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Sooner or Later You're Gonna Be Mine - Chapter 1

oh
god,

I was
Hearin' Da
Rumors,

But I
Didn't
Believe he'd
Actually
Do it.

As if our town wasn't a big miserable wasteland of violence, misery and, murder already, now he's actually welcoming their kind into it as well.

(y/n) paused, her hairbrush in mid-stroke, as she heard the piano man grumble crudely under his breath. She hadn't sang in this club before and truth be told, it didn't have a great dressing room for performers to get "ALL DOLLED UP" as many owners put it. So (y/n) took it upon herself herself to dress up in the ladies bathroom.
After putting on her shimmery low-cut baby blue dress and applying all that heavy makeup to her face, she exited the bathroom, leaving her aftershow clothes in one of the broken stalls and began brushing her hair on stage.
It didn't take much to style it, which was one reason why (y/n) had cut it short into a bob hairstyle. One less thing she had to worry about before she got on stage. Just brush it till it looks neat, put a flower in it and the crowd still think you look like a "MILLON BUCKS."
Not that (y/n) cared too much about what her "FANS" thought of her. All she wanted to do was sing, get paid and go home before she saw another fight break out between the members of her audience.
Gang members erupting into violent and bloody fights in the middle of her songs were becoming more and more common over the last few months. And what were these fights over? Anything, really.
Gang members entering other gangs territory, drugs deals gone bad, gun deals gone horribly bad. It didn't matter.
The results was always the same: somebody would be leaving in a body bag. (y/n) hadn't gotten used to it, but she had definitely become quicker with dodging flying bullets and pieces for furniture that came her way.
She tired to deny it when she was younger, but now it was obvious. Her once pretty city was quickly sinking into corruption thanks largely to the mob groups that were overtaking large areas of her city.
The dons and high class mobsters ran everything from the small mom and pop store to the police force. Even the city's officials were nothing more than corrupt individuals in nice suits with clean smiles. The good decent poor folks suffered the most, having to pay out "PROTECTION FEES" but there were always ways to make money.
Everybody had to pay a price. Everybody could endure or change themselves for money.

(y/n) knew.

To her despair, she watched a number of her long-time friends get lost in he world of easy money and quick deaths. She had been to more funerals than birthday parties this year alone. She could never blame them though.

The world was going there a depression after all. And (y/n) herself was not exactly a wealthy professional singer. Right now her gigs were at speedy clubs with seedier owners. Who's business reeked of cigar smoke and strong booze and no matter how many times (y/n) showered the smell seemed to linger. And her nightly audience were the lowest class of criminals. Not that (y/n) judged them on poverty levels. In fact, most of the best people she knew were struggling to get by. But when it all came down to the wire a rich mobster was just as his poor lackey.  Both types murder for money and power and both types will harm the innocent to get what they want.

(y/n) really needed to get out. She just didn't save enough money yet. She may have been a popular singer in these type of bars, but the pay wasn't great. She made just enough to pay for her crappy apartment, her bills and the protection fee her local police force demanded for its residents.

(y/n) finished brushing her hair and making sure her flower was just clipped on just right while walking with her piano man looking through the red curtains right behind the stage. Seeing an old man with a rather tall man but you could see considering all the musky cigar smoke, "Look at the last table in the back. You'll see what I'm talking about, toots." You gasp seeing Don Dee was a shock in itself. Even a small fish like (y/n) knew who he was just by looking at him. A top dog, a bit shot, a huge fish...and the fact that he was sitting in this piece of shit of a bar was astonishing in itself.
The man was known for class and expensive taste. The suit he was wearing outshined all the cheap ones that almost all the other club patrons were wearing. But the Don being here wasn't the most shocking part. The most shocking part was his companion.
The gentleman sitting besides the Don was...Not from the city to say the least. And if he had entered the club my himself, he would have been killed instantly. But sitting next to Don made him untouchable. I'm fact, most patrons were going out of their way not to stare at him, "Say, is he-" you were cut off shortly, "Ha ha hah! Yep. That's the Don himself is inviting monsters in the operation now. Can you believe that, toots?" You continue to look through the curtains getting a good look at the old man, "Disgusting monsters. Pfft....he's makin a mistake is what he's doin'. Gonna lose all that respect." "Monsters...Now this town really has sank as low as it can go." (y/n) frowned at his choice of words, and the effect  they had on her, but continued to stare, even though she felt a little bad doing it.
She knew that people who differ from her own race and in this case species shouldn't be stated at like they were some kind of spectacle. But (y/n) really couldn't help herself. Sure she heard all about the monsters that lived in the neighboring cities miles away from her own, and sure she knew the looked different from humans and their customs and politics were worlds apart from human, but to actually see one was...well it was something that deserved a second glance.

He was a massive monster. He was taller then any human (y/n) has ever seen and he was wide too. Not fat, but there was no denying how incredibly powerful he looked. He made the Dons bodyguards look like little boys. And his suit was more impressive than the Dons if that were possible. His jacket, fedora hat and trousers were black, while his waist coat was an eye catching red. 

(y/n) wasn't to fond of that color, but she had to admit the monster had style. A fat cigar was in his teeth and the smoke coming from it was strange. It wasn't gray smoke. It was red smoke and curled in unusual designs before it disappeared. But his size and clothes were nothing compared to what he actually looked like. He had a huge smile on his face and despite the dimmed lights, (y/n) saw a glimmering gold tooth flashing in his mouth every time the skeleton turned his head, "Damn freak." Said the piano man before walking off leaving you to continue staring at the monster before noticing he caught a glimpse of you staring. His dark eyes seemed to have glowing blood dots in his eye sockets. He put the cigar back in his mouth before winking at you which made you take a step back and closing the curtains.

That look...(y/n) didn't understand why his friendly little gesture sent a cold chill down down her spine, but she quickly dismissed it, "It doesn't matter, I'm not gonna talk to him if I can help so that's that."
The piano man sat down stretching his fingers making cracking noises before staring up an down at your dress. You noticed before crossing your arms over your chest, "Hey I ain't touching 'em toots. No law against lookin'."

She needed to get out of this city. Go somewhere nicer where smoke from cigarettes and guns didn't greet her every second of everyday. Where people actually cared if another person was killed. Maybe when she had enough saved up she could move to the country. Maybe live in a pretty cottage and start a garden. (y/n) brush hair hair behind your ear thinking about it. She couldn't remember the last time she saw a flower growing outside. She smiled faintly. Her mother always talked about starting a garden when (y/n) was really little and- ,"But going back to our conversation," I lost pace of my thought listening to the man, "The Don really isn't makin' a mistake. As soon as we let one monster in, more are gonna come. Just you wait. I mean, look at what happened when we started lettin' the darkies in- " you cut him off full of anger and disgust, "Why don't you keep those thoughts to yourself and get ready for the show?" You shift your position and face into unpleasant and aggressive look, "Word around the grapevine is that you aren't the cream of the crop when it comes to playing that thing." It was a lie of course. (y/n) knew nothing about this man, but that didn't stop her from feeling a sort of smug satisfaction enter her as the piano mans face changed from cocky and arrogant- to enraged and disgusted, "Goddamn bleedin' heart whore, you and your type are the reason why there are so many problems in this world."
(y/n) continued to get ready brushing her hair down, "You treat the inferior a certain way and suddenly they start demandin' to be treated that way by everybody..." (y/n) hummed to herself. It was always nice to be told that. Whenever somebody told her that or something similar to that, (y/n) couldn't help but feel like she was more than just some speedy bar singer who sang for murderers and criminalss.

As the lights dimmed and the speaker was up front introducing you to everyone there who got up from their seats to be up front to see you. Showtime. As the curtains draws back revealing a bright light over you, you could barely see the faces in front of you making you almost close your eyes. You heard the piano man play a lovely slow and gentle song.

She sang the first song with ease and much to her disappointment the piano didn't make one mistake. Guy knew his instrument. To bad he was a racist prick. For the most part, (y/n) loved musicians. All that passion being played through their fingers or mouths. And whenever she spoke to them they always wanted to be something more than what the were. Just like her, they dreamed of getting out of the city and being somewhere safe and pretty. At one point when (y/n) was younger and still wanted to male singer her life's career. She would dream about marrying a young gentle musician. The two of them would become famous and sing at only the best clubs and have children who loved music and would sing and play too. (y/n) never would of thought in a million years that she would grow to hate the talent she once cherished.