A/N - This story idea popped into my mind this afternoon. Wrote it up and decided to post to see what you all think. Let me know x
"Sir?"
"Yes what is it?"
"We've received a new contract that requires your attention."
Allen shifted his gaze to the man holding the large envelope and gestured that he pass it over.
Quickly he did so and left the office.
Allen's desk was neatly kept and placing the items he was tending to beforehand away, his focus was on the large yellow envelope. Picking up his sharp letter opener he cut through the slit and put it back on the desk.
Tipping it downward a small folded piece of paper fell onto the wood. Allen cocked an eyebrow and folded it open. Reading the typed words an intrigued smile twitched on his lips. Folding it back up and into his pocket, Allen stood from the desk and picked up his suit jacket, slipping it on.
"Lauren, hold my calls this evening I will be back within an hour or so." Allen informed his personal receptionist. She complied with a nod and went back to typing on her computer.
Pulling the car keys out of his other pocket, a small beep sound told him the door to his new BMW was open and slipped inside to the comfy leather. He loved the smell of the leather and feel, but was nothing in comparison to the feel of a new contract, moreover the completion of it with skillful success.
The drive wasn't far until he pulled up to a large strip club. Parking the car he walked inside and towards the back.
"Employees or staff only." The tall dark man's voice towered over and stopped him from going any further.
"I'm here to see Hammell. Important business."
The man gave a questioning glare but gestured with a tip of his head that he goes on through. Walking past the 'private' area and the changing room for the 'performers', careful that he didn't touch anything, he reached the managers door and knocked.
"Come in!" the drunken voice bellowed out.
Allen twisted the doorknob and walked in, "Hammell." He greeted.
"Allen! Good to see you!"
"Not a mutual feeling Hammell."
The man laughed which was more a wheeze; Hammell was lounge back behind his desk in the swivel chair. The man's beer gut was barely contained by his cheap suits buttons. Partial bald with a receding hair line in his light blond hair, a goatee and shades, anyone would think Hammell walked out of a disgusting porno… or was the owner of a strip club. He reeked of booze which numerous empty glasses sat around his 'desk' used more so for sex or snorting substances off than business use.
Allen exhaled his nostrils, hoping to push away the foul odor, "I've received a contract, one that told me to come here would you believe."
"Oh yes, yes!" Hammell swiveled his chair to the side to stand, "Oh uh-.. can I offer you a drink?"
"From those glasses? I think not."
"Oh I only have the best glasses saved for you Allen." Hammell laughed.
The noise annoyed Allen to no end just like this whole place, but business between the two had run for a long time. Working in the shadows it was an attractive business for Allen's… hobby and job. It was a mutual grounding with connections allowing information and help that has been of great benefit to both parties involved.
"The client is in the private area, thought he would get a dance first." Hammell informed whilst pouring another drink for himself, the ice clinking in the cup.
Allen rolled his eyes and reluctantly he sat in the chair beside the door.
I'll have to burn this suit…. or have it washed multiple times.
"He's a frequent customer then?" Allen investigated.
"Yeah seen him ere' a few times, he's a right prick but he's got money!"
"That's the likely trait in those with money… and in a fine place like this." Allen stated with disinterest, "Any idea on who'd he want to kill?"
"Not–a-clue." Hammell tipped the contents down his throat and walked back to his desk, ready to sit down a knock at the door stopped him, "YES?"
The door opened and the young man walked in with a smirk, "Just me Hammell."
Hammell grunted, "I have some business to attend to. Just as you both do, so-" Hammell walked towards the door, "I'll leave you to it." And closed the door behind hm.
Allen racked his brain for where the man seemed familiar. The young male wore a leather jacket, fine blue stripped button top and a blue tie with expensive looking jeans.
Anyone would think he is an ivy league, quarterback, fraternity dipshit.
Allen inwardly smirked and stood from his chair.
"Mr. Smith?" Allen asked with an unimpressed expression at the original fake name.
"Yes, you are Allen?" Tom raised his hand for a handshake.
Allen looked down at the hand wondering where it had been 10 minutes ago, choosing to ignore it, "You've asked me here. Here I am. What's the contract?"
"Straight to business I like it! I- I want someone killed." Smith whispered.
"You hired a Hitman to have someone killed? No?" Allen sneered, "No need to whisper boy!"
"Don't call me boy! I'm a client, your client! Who will be paying you a lot of money!-"
"I am a Hitman. Do not think you can use your money to waver and make me a slave. I am a Hitman, do not waste my time." Allen snarled.
After all, Smith was coming to Allen, not the other way around. Allen held a majority of the power here, he would be doing the work, all Smith had to do was pick up a pen and sign a check.
Smith took a step back from the man's intimidating expression, "S-sorry… this isn't how I wanted our meeting to go at all, and I apologize."
"Why did you want to meet in a strip club Mr. Smith?" Allen placed his hands into his pockets.
"Hammell subtly dropped word when he saw me angry one time that such issues could be fixed. I expressed my interests to the fullest extent."
There in the simplest of terms is the equation for how the business fused together. Hammell would serve as a demon upon shoulders for those using a strip club to forget their 'worries', whispering in their ears. It was up to them whether they wanted to go further and meet the devil.
"Go on Smith."
"I want someone to be killed."
Allen rolled his eyes with a sigh, "We've established that. Give me a name!"
"Chloe Beale."
Allen cocked an eyebrow at the well-known name, "Chloe Beale?"
"Y-yes. I want her dead. I want her dead be-"
"Stop. I do not care. You have given me the name, how is it you want her dead?"
"Uhm I-I don't know…"
"Publicly? Or by an… accident?"
"Oh… an accident?" He guessed with a shrug.
"The contract being you want Miss Chloe Beale dead from an accidental cause. Any particular time?"
"No, whenever suits you."
Allen gave a nod and was pensively deliberating the contract in sum for a quote.
"I will give you 50 thousand dollars." Smith informed with a smirk.
Allen's eyes slowly gazed up from the ground into Smith's, chocking back a laugh at the man's offer.
"Chloe Beale, a world renown pop star, who is under watch from paparazzi and millions world wide. Are we talking this Chloe Beale?"
Smith's expression changed to anger with squinting eyes, "Yes."
"This is a contract that will require the utmost precision…" His eyes bore into Smith's "500,000 thousand dollars."
Smith with his mouth wide open and eyes wide he gasped, "That's a lot of money!"
"Indeed it is. Is she worth it?"
This question placed Smith back into his original state before answering with confidence, "Yes."
Allen gave a curt nod, "Well then, I extend my hand to you now and once you have shaken it, the contract will be locked. There is no 'I've changed my mind' and failure is not an option she will be killed." His hand shot out from his pocket and held it out towards Smith.
Smith eyes the man's hand and menacing eyes before back at the hand, "A deal with the devil so it seems." He joked, then grasped the mans' hand with his own in a firm shake.
Allen smirked, "And so it is."
"Miss Beale?... We are looking for Miss Beale has anyone seen her?" the man ran around frantically backstage in search of the star. Everyone shrugged not knowing where she was. The man was in a fit and searched every room down the long corridor but was yet to find her.
Not watching where he was going, he accidentally bumped into one of the dancers, "Geez William what's the rush?"
"Sorry Jessica, do you know where Chloe is?" William huffed.
"Yeah on stage rehearsing." Jessica plainly stated.
William slumped, "What?! That was the first place I checked!" he threw his hands up into the air then took off in sprint towards the stage.
Chloe stepped forward to her mark on front centre stage and sat at the piano.
"Okay so after that song, this is where I will be?"she had done this many time before but was running by the section with pyro crew and lighting.
"That's correct Miss Beale." The young female's voice sounded through the amps, she sat way up high in the booth, programming the lights whilst checking with pyro.
"Okay." She smiled, and placing her hand on the keys played the song that was to be played. It was always calming playing the piano and loved the feel of the keys under the piano, manipulating to make sweet, sad or intense compositions.
Humming the tune instead of singing, to conserve her voice she peered out into the large empty arena, excited for the large show she would be playing in just a short weeks time. One that had already sold out month's prior. Chloe was already excited and wished it were tonight.
"Miss Beale!" William ran out on stage and Chloe swung herself around on the piano stool to see her flustered manager.
"What's up?"
"You have the fan greeting today, well actually, now!"
Chloe stood from the chair wide-eyed, "NOW?!" she asked shocked not realizing the time.
He frantically nodded, and moved out of the way when she jogged past him, he of course quickly followed.
"Why am I here?" the young girl drawled.
"Thank you for the most amazing birthday present ever siswa! Oh my gosh this is going to be amazing! I cannot wait to meet her in the flesh. …. These are the things you should be saying to me right now." The taller brunette turned to her younger sister.
"Stacie, you forged these passes to get in here."
"Yes I did, and again this is where we say; 'Thank you Stacie! You are incredibl-"
"Okay stop gloating would you!"
"I will once you say thanks Beca!"
Those in the area were starting to look at the pair. Beca relented lest they draw more attention to themselves, "Thanks oh glorious Stacie."
"Oh I like that! Call me that more often… but without the attitude." Stacie smirked and nudged her sister's shoulder, "Your probably more nervous than anything I suppose."
"No I'm not." Beca's face was stern to hide her pending embarrassment.
"Becs you cannot hide anything from me." Stacie looked around and toned down her voice, "I know you really like this Beale woman for both her talents and looks," she winked "and I wanted to surprise you with this gift. One that will have a good memory instead of bad ones." Stacie's serious eyes bore into Beca's.
Beca nodded in understanding, her sister was trying, "Thanks Stacie." She gave a small genuine smile, "I guess I'm still learning to adapt you know?"
"I do Beca and we both are. But we are both talented…" a different word was on Stacie tongue and Beca caught this, turning to her with a slight smirk, Stacie continued with, "women. We are going to do just fine in our new lives."
Beca nodded and opened her mouth to speak but all the air was sucked out when the far doors opened to the small dull function room they were all standing. A room that just went from dull to completely bright within seconds, maybe it was the red hair in comparison to the white walls but it was definitely more than that when the bright personality that is pop star Chloe Beale entered the room.