Bastille Imagines

All This Bad Blood Pt. III

"Not particularly, but I-"

"So wouldn't you rather have a job with a higher pay and is actually worth your time?"

You slowly nod, cautious of the trap he's leading you into.

"Okay." He straightens his expensive tie. "I'll make you a deal. How would you feel about doing a couple of simple, personal errands for me some time? I can guarantee that you'll enjoy it much more than your current job. It's nothing too hard either. You can get away from that diner, start to live a little. No more shitty jobs."

Do you dare even consider his offer? It sound so appealing with his convincing voice is luring you to it. But you know that there's always a possibility of danger, an element of risk around every corner. You're not quite sure if you even get a choice in the matter. So what do you do? He sees that you're indecisive and the corner of his lips curl up ever so slightly.

"There will be pay involved of course. More than you could imagine."

Thoughts of persuasion roam your head, telling you to take the offer and just like that you'd be rich. But you can't. It's not morally right. Of course you have struggled financially throughout the year, and you do suppose that a better apartment would suit you, but there's more consequences than there is benefits; people would hate you for it, you would break the promises you've made with gangs, you would became a walking target.

But the money, one voice tells you. 
But Charlie, the other says.

You can't do it, you have to refuse. For Charlie's sake. Reluctantly, you shake your head at him making clear that working with him would not have the greatest outcome. He sits there expressionless, maybe a little disappointed if anything, but he doesn't appear to be feeling too rejected.

There's a moment of awkwardness as silence falls to accept his defeat. He suddenly places his hand on top of yours, engulfing it completely. Then you realise why; he's managed to subtly slip a folded piece of paper into your hand and penetrates his blue eyes into yours. You feel drawn to them, the colour having such vibrancy that you can't pull away.

Eventually he releases and slowly rises from his chair, buttons up his blazer and looks down onto you with those menacing cerulean eyes with a haunting smile plastered on his face.

"Don't worry, darlin'. You'll get what's coming for you." He fires you a wink, and walks off with a smirk still curling at the corners of his lips. You, however, are left slightly overwhelmed. Having no immediate reaction you're slightly unsure with what to do with yourself. What does he mean? "You'll get what's coming for you". Is it a threat? Was this all just a bluff and he's really intending to send some hitman on you? God knows. You peer your eyes down into the neatly folded piece of paper in your hand, unfolding it and reading the message...

'Phone me if you ever change your mind'. And below his number written elegantly with a kiss to finish. He must've planned this, no way did he write that in front of you without it gaining your attention. But whether it will come into use you don't know.

You look over to your right to see Charlie leaning against the doorframe of the mezzanine. He has his eyes glued to Dan as he struts back to his own seat before he approaches you, curiosity riddling his face. Before he reaches you, you crumple the paper gently in your hand keeping it hidden from Charlie.

"Are you alright? What did he do?" He asks, searching for any indication of physical damage. You wave him off and mumble a 'nothing'. "What was he saying?"

"He asked me about not raising my hand when he asked, and I told him that I wasn't part of a gang so I had no reason to. And for some stupid reason I told him it what he did to Carlos wasn't necessary. Obviously he thought otherwise but then..." You gulp, thinking back to just moments before. "I mentioned your brother..." Charlie's eyes immediately widen and an anxious hand runs through his hair. 

"Why?! Are you stupid?!" He whispers, but he's struggling to maintain a volume below audible.

"I don't know! I didn't mean to it just blurted out but..." You freeze, words halting at the edge of your tongue.

"But what? Tell me. What did he say?"

"He told me to tell you that...your brother knew what he was doing...to Dan...behind his back." You mutter.

"And you believed him? I thought you were the one telling me that he just talks bullshit?!" He shouts a little louder. You hush him discreetly, trying to avoid the irritated glares of the others.

"I never said I believed him, alright? Anyway, that's not the point."

"Then what is?"

"He offered me a job so to speak; run a couple of errands for him a-and I would get paid for it too. But I refused, and his only response was "you'll get what's coming for you" and walked away. I don't know what that means but-"

Ding ding ding!

Your eyes snap to Dan raising his glass of champagne. You automatically block the sound of his voice, not wanting to hear him rambling on about the success of the alliance because you know that you will never have to come in contact with him again...or so you hope.

~~~

You finally return home safely with Charlie escorting you to your front door. With a quick farewell you head inside your tiny apartment, flicking on the dim light revealing the mess of your home. Kicking off your heels you heave a heavy sigh at the exhaustion lingering around after tonight's events. God. Tonight couldn't have gotten worse.

Regrettably that decision you refused taunts you, still wondering if your decision was the right one.

Of course it was, what are you thinking?
You won't get an opportunity for money like that ever again. 

Again those voices are battling it out in your head. But it was something about Dan that made it so appealing disregarding all of the despicable things he's done. Something about his calming demeanour that made it so enticing, he made you doubt your current job - that you didn't seem to mind in the first place - and make you want more than that: the thrill, the adrenaline, the money. Do you think it's too late to reconsider?

You whip out Dan's number, looking at it over and over again, debating about your decision with each number you punch into your phone. You hold your breath as your heartbeat pulsates out your chest. Before you know it, you have the Dan's number waiting to be phoned glaring at you through the brightness of the screen. The call button is waiting for you to press it but something's holding you back. The pressure is becoming too much and panicked thoughts are zooming through your mind at one hundred miles per hour, too quick for you to process. Adrenaline is pumping through your veins as each recoil becomes less and less the more you get closer to pushing that button. This is too dangerous, this man is dangerous, the thought of you even doing this is dangerous.

So you phone him.

Three steady rings echo into your ear before silence. You've chocked on your words and your voice doesn't even have anything to produce. But it doesn't have to before his recognisable voice speaks into your ear.

"I knew you'd change your mind."