Head hurts.
Mouth tastes like he performed cunnilingus on an airport ashtray.
It happens when he’s been up too long, smoked too many Camel© Menthol Wides, too many hastily rolled blunts.
Looks over at the lump in his California King Flat form.
Hopefully she’ll at least be good looking.
Can’t believe he’s done it again.
Been a while since he woke beside a random female.
Remembers why he stopped.
Fucking Entertainers.
Swore off them.
Knows why he did it.
Fucking “Hook-ups”app.
He’d seen Ronnie on the site.
His Ronnie.
On ‘Hook-ups’?
He’d drank like a fish all night.
Bar maids are happy to oblige.
He never asks them for anything.
Always quiet.
Watching people.
Notices everything.
Makes sure nothing happens.
That night Kyng is not at peak.
Starts off noticing the bored expressions of the dancers, glassy eyes of the patrons, hundreds of ones being thrown, typical night.
Tells Nia the barmaid he wants 3 fingers of Jack.
Once he explained she handed him a fresh one each time he held up 3 digits.
Decides to find out who is in his bed.
Karma.
The dancer, not the thing.
Even though it kind of could be.
Doesn’t care for the tall arrogant woman, has no idea how they ended up at his house.
Can’t even begin to imagine the conversation they might have had.
Never said a nice word to one another before.
Swears he won’t ever drink again.
Now that he’s up he has to cash app his team.
The only downside to employing a lot of monsters is that you have to keep them happy, and always remember that they are monsters.
Gorilla Man, Turnpike, Ears, and Bigfoot.
The best crew working in strip clubs.
Has other employees but if he has to work with anyone it’ll be them.
As he transfers funds, lithe body in his bed begins to stir.
Doesn’t look forward to the conversation, even less to having to see her at the club later tonight.
"Hey Wake up, shawty."
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