Assassination Through Romance and Devastation (discontinued)

Chapter Three: Where my story begins?

I wake up with a cold sweat.
Fuck... my head.
I look around but nothing seems familiar..
"Where am I..."
I whisper to myself as I stare at the pictures and decor in front of me.
"My dressing room."
I slightly stern voice speaks to me from the other side of the room. I slowly turn my head to see the same black haired man sitting at a mirror applying small sacraments of makeup. I stare at him, watching his every move. He doesn't seem to show much emotion.
"Why do you have a dressing room at a club?"
I ask in hopes of starting a small conversation. All he does it slightly glance at me through the mirror. He doesn't respond.
"Only the dancer have dressing rooms. Are you—"
He cuts me off.
"I get paid for it. So yes, when I feel the need to be."
He continues applying his makeup. From this distance, I can't pick up his facial features. The man stands up, and walks over to me. I watch him as he stands before me.
"How are you feeling?"
He asks with little concern in his voice. I try to recall what happened.. but I can't seem to.
"Erm.. I can't remember—"
"You blacked out."
I stare at him blankly.
"Ah, I see. Well, I'm feeling alright. thanks."
He nods and turns around, making his way back to the mirror again. He sits down and stares at the top of the counter. I watch him.
"You know.. staring is rude."
I jolt a bit and I look away. He sighs.
"Saijo Takato."
I look back at him in confusion.
"What?"
He sighs.
"My name. Dumbass."
He mumbles. I relax a bit. This is the guy I need.
"Uh. Nice name?—"
He nods, and turns around in his chair.
"What brings you here? You don't seem like the person to hang at a.. stripper club."
He hesitated. And I begin to think of an excuse.
"Well... why are you here?"
I attempt to change the situation to him, rather than me. He glares at me.
"I practically live here."
I chuckle.
"You're a whore."
He looks at me with wide eyes.
"Excuse me?"
I lean back on the small sofa.
"You're a whore? You sleep with men for money. That's called a whore."
He stares at me in shock for a few seconds, and then he begins to stutter.
"That's very disrespectful—"
"I mean't what I said."
We both glare at each other. I made this situation worse than it could have become. He stands up and walks across the room, over to me and leans his face to mine. My heart begins to go crazy and.. I can't control it. Our lips are barely two inches away from each other. I swallow hard, as my ears turn red. He holds a serious face.
"Watch your words, Azumaya-kun."
I look at him in shock.
"How did you—"
I begin to speak.
"I accessed your file. It wasn't difficult. You are a 25 year old male, your height is 190cm (6'3 ft), you weigh 73kg, and your birth date is November 11th, 1997. You are a Scorpio. You used to live in Spain with your father before something happened. It didn't say what, but I assume you were thrown out?"
He chuckles, and continues.
"You get paid by a man named, Hikarvi Atto. 58 year old male, around 172cm (5'8 ft), weighs 90kg, birth date is May 3rd, 1964. Are you here on a... mission? To kill? I'm curious."
I stare at him in shock for a few seconds until he snaps his fingers in front of my face.
"Oi! Are you listening to me?"
He yells in my face. I was confused but shocked at the same time. I attempt to speak but I stutter.
"How did you- I mean.. what?.."
He chuckles, and then leans closer to me and stares into my eyes for a bit.
"You know.. I have greater talents than just being a 'whore'"
He winks at me teasingly. And then he stares at me and smirks.
"Awh.. you're cute when you blush."
He flicks my forehead and walks away. I want to argue against his comment but I can't say anything. I'm too shocked and I can't tell if it's because he knows all of my information or if it's because I can't control my heart at the moment... It's beating loudly and my breathing is heavy. I think I'm just hungover.. I watch him as he grabs an outfit from his wardrobe.
"What are you doing?"
I ask in curiosity.
"I'm on in fifteen."
I tilt my head in confusion.
"On.. where?"
He looks over his shoulder, giving me a look like I should know what he's talking about.
"The stage."
I let out a sigh, as I just figured out what he mean't.
"You know.. if you need money, you could have just asked."
He looks at me with a disappointing look. Did I say something wrong? He sighs and looks away.
"I'd rather work for my money."
His response sounded so emotionless.. it kind of made me feel bad. He pulled out a black lingerie outfit from his wardrobe, and sighed as he stared at it. I watched him as he made his way back to the mirror and fumbled through the drawers of the dresser, pulling out a pair of small black netted gloves and socks.