Chapter 42: No Rest For the Sleepy
Gareth laughed, patting Max’s back so hard that he thought he would tip over or cough up a lung.
"I knew you would come through." He laughed and walked into the club, leaving Max to his own devices.
Max grimaced and looked at the time. He could still head home, get an hour or two of sleep, then start work.
He yelled to Gareth, "I’m going to get going; I’ll be back at around five. Do whatever you need to do."
Gareth waved dismissively.
Max sighed. He wondered if something in the universe just didn’t like it when he got a full night’s sleep. If he could, he would spend all his time sleeping, but nope, duty calls.
He took a few more photos, then left.
Racing against time, he made his way back and flopped onto the bed. He set a quick alarm, and faster than he could blink, he fell asleep.
He snored up a storm until the alarm woke him up again, nearly causing another bout of possible heart failure.
All black, that’s his outfit of choice for today. Any strange liquids won’t be seen on the shirt.
Before he even arrived, he was already texting, DMing, and Random Chat chatting, hundreds of people. He needed to lock in reservations and convince people there would be great tables and hot girls.
He was also trying to recruit attractive women to the club.
The second he stepped out of the car, he headed straight towards the club. The bouncer was someone he knew, so he got in without a hitch.
Quickly, he found Gareth. He asked him about the cost of the girls and the bottles and such. He also made sure to solidify his own portion.
He already told him he would get paid; he was expecting to get paid. Even if a portion of it was going back into his debt.
He confirmed 10% of the minimum spend. Max wasn’t about to be upset. That was a good chunk of change if things went well. If it all went to shit, then he got nothing. But it gave him more time to pay the debt.
Either way, he won.
Max was lucky enough to get a seat in a corner and continue his chatting. He knew he would be on his feet for the rest of the night, so he was taking the time to relax.
At nine, a few people Max found started dripping in. Along with them were some people Gareth knew. There weren’t many, but they were something.
He signalled for one of the bottle girls to walk by, attracting some attention. He saw some of the people take their phones out.
Assuming they were doing what he thought they were, more people were on the way.
Max stood, ready to be on his feet for the rest of the night. He put on his best salesman smile and walked out.
By ten, the place was starting to look like something, and Max felt proud. His first set of clients came to the door.
"Hey, Georgie, let’s go. What are you doing standing out here? The party’s inside."
The man saw Max, knew he was the contact, and without waiting for anything, he walked towards him. Max gave a signal to the bouncer to let them in.
Then he found one of the girls.
"Dina, Gerogie, Georgie, Dina." He introduced them. "Dina’s a great girl. She’ll be dealing with you for the rest of the night. If you need anything else, just let me know."
He said everything he needed to say, then he left them to their own devices. His job was done, and he needed to get to his other clients.
For the next hour or two, Max was back and forth, ensuring all his people were able to get in.
Every time he went inside and saw the crowd, he felt good. He was the one who brought them here, and he would definitely be getting some good money.
By the time everyone was in, he was fielding different complaints. He felt like an underpaid babysitter.
"Our bottle girl is too slow."
"The guy at the next table is looking at us."
"Can you get those girls to come over here?"
The requests and complaints were never-ending. Sometimes he really wanted to smack someone. By someone, he meant the one weird guy who kept calling him over and asking him for blow.
It was after the tenth time that Max realized that the man wanted him to give him a blowjob. Max’s fist almost found his face.
Then he remembered he was working and he would get money for this. He walked away muttering, ’ten fucking times’ to himself.
By twelve, he was dead on his feet, but he knew he couldn’t stop.
He could swear there was a point in the night he fell asleep and was working on autopilot, but he wasn’t entirely sure.
By the time the club closed, he didn’t care where he was; he crashed. He kicked his feet up, breathing heavily, and just lay on a booth with no intention of getting up.
Well, that was until his hand touched...he didn’t even know what it was. He wiped his hand furiously with a napkin he found, then rushed to the restroom to wash his hands.
When he stepped out, he met Gareth.
"Max, my man, you did good."
Max mumbled. His dark circles had now become dark saucers. He didn’t have the energy to care about Gareth.
He looked at him, eyes red-rimmed and tired from sleep.
"Let’s not do this again. Whatever my cut was, just reduce the debt by that amount. I’m about to fall over. I’m going home."
Max didn’t care about anything else. He called a taxi.
Gareth called behind him as he walked out. "Don’t be like that, Max. Remember what I said. Sleep is for the weak."
He heard the laughter behind him but didn’t care; he dragged himself to the taxi he ordered. He slumped in the seat and forced himself to stay awake.
As soon as he got in, he shut off his phone. It didn’t matter who would try to contact him. What he needed was sleep, and he would be damned if he allowed anyone to disrupt that.
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