Aurelia

It’s past midnight by the time I shut the door of Dad’s boardroom behind me. The entire house is silent, everyone already asleep by this time.

I make my way to his desktop, powering it on.

I set the flier in front of me, logging into the website. There’s an application requirement. My eyes narrow on the written instructions.

You are here to apply for the role as a prize in the establishment. The application process is entirely simple.

All the establishment requires is a motion picture of the applicant following the prompts listed below;

The applicant (female), is required to show themselves in full profile, from the top of the head to the lower chest.

The applicant (female), is required to show side profile, ie. Turn head to the left side slowly, and repeat same for the right.

The applicant (female), is required to pull hair up in a high bun/ponytail so the video has a clear view of the applicant’s neck.

The applicant (female), is required to smile at the camera, revealing a full, clear view of dentition.

The applicant (female), is required to splay both hands over upper chest region for full, clear view of digits.

The applicant (female), is required to say the words, ‘I am applying for the role as a prize at your establishment, in the event that I am given this role, you have my full consent.’

All this for the role of a waitress?

It seems a bit extra. But it cant deny that the application process is entirely simple.

I follow the instructions, making a video covering all the prompts and then clicking submit.

Thank you for your application.

Now I just have to wait. But, for how long?

The incoming footsteps only register in my head a single second before the door swings open.

Rune walks into the room, and I grab the flier, shoving at against my chest and pulling the lapels of my robe together.

He pauses, his eyes zoning in on the action. And then a slow smile spreads across his face.

He cocks his head, “What you got there, Cinderella?”

I shift the chair back, rising to my feet, “Not any of your business.”

“Ah,” he drawls, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him. A tornado of nerves shoot down my spine.

“Wherever you’re concerned?” He grins, “Will always be my business. Haven’t you learned that by now?”

He walks further into the room, my eyes trail down his bare chest, lingering on his unbuttoned pants.

“My eyes are up here, Cinderella.”

My response comes out sharp, “I wasn’t ogling you.”

“Seems to me like you were.”

I scoff, wrapping my arms tighter around herself.

“What are you hiding?”

“Like I said, I really don’t think it’s any of your business.”

He grin intensifies, it’s that same taunting, easy glide of his mouth that aggravates me to no end, “You know I could take it from you in a second.”

I hesitate,“You wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t I?” He drawls, “You tell me,” He moves closer, the only thing between us now being the large mahogany table. “Tell me you don’t see me shoving my hand in that flimsy get up you’ve got on and ripping out whatever that is from between your tits.”

My face flushes. It only fuels his amusement.

I attempt darting past the table, but he blocks my path, tutting at me, “Gotta be faster than that.”

I lift my chin, “Let me through.”

His eyes slide down my front, lingering on my arms crisscrossed over my chest. “What are you doing up here all alone at this time of the night?” His gaze darkens, trailing down my bare legs and slowly back up. His voice drops an octave, “Must have been private.”

My cheeks heat at the insinuation, and I back up a few steps. But he follows, sauntering towards me unhurriedly, hazel eyes focused on mine. It’s so obvious he’s toying with me. At this angle, the moonlight hits him perfectly. Reflecting off his tan skin, almost every inch of his visible flesh covered in art, dark swirling, beautiful markings trailing up both of his arms, covering parts of his chest and torso.

I hate to admit it, but I’ve always loved Rune’s tattoos.

He runs a hand over the wooden table, sinking into the leather chair behind it. My heart pounds in my chest. Once glance at the computer screen and I’m done for. It’s the only reason I don’t bolt to the door.

“It’s two am and you’re up here all by yourself, if it’s not for reasons quiet obvious to me,” He laughs to himself, “Then why the hell else?”

“Why do you care.”

His eyes narrow, the smile on his face thinning to a slight tilt on the corner of his mouth as he turns in the chair, spinning in the leather seat. For a moment, he seems in thought. Then suddenly, he stands up, making a beeline towards me.

I try to move away, but he’s already eaten up the distance between us with his strides, grabbing my wrist and pressing my back against the bookshelf. He stares down at me. We’re so close, I can count each individual eyelash framing his dark hazel eyes. I’m finding it so difficult to breathe, yet he’s holding me in place like he could do it forever.

And then he smiles again, but it’s small, softer, “How are you, Aurelia?”

My lips part in confusion.

I think that’s the first time he’s ever called me by my actual name.

“What?” I breathe. My chest rises and falls in the space between us.

His eyes trail over my face, slowly. His lips part, as he leans in closer. I feel his breath across my cheeks when he whispers, “It’s been a long time. I’m just wondering… you been okay?”

“I…” The response stalls on my lips. He’s asking how I’ve been? I shake my head. What am I supposed to say to that? “Rune-”

“Rune!” A shrill voice interrupts, “Where are you? I’ve been waiting forever!”

Seems like his blonde friends spent the night.

He keeps staring at me though, like he didn’t hear a thing.

“Rune!”

Slowly, his grip around my wrist loosens, as he pulls away. He lets go of me.

His hand runs through the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging on the black strands as he walks out of the room. I let out a long breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. It feels like I’ve been thrown off kilter.

The desktop pings with a notification. Sighing, I walk back to the desk, wanting to close off all the tabs and check back in tomorrow night. But my eyes zero in on a notification.

1 new message.

I click on it. My eyes moving over the words written on the screen.

You have been accepted as a prize of the establishment.

​What?

So soon?

The response, my acceptance came in less than an hour.

Choose your colour.

There are options; red, blue, black, violet, gold…

I choose blue.

Choose your alias.

​It’s a blank space. I think for a moment, then type in the letters I V Y.

Insert address for the collection of membership.

There’s a slot provided for it. I type it in.

And then I read what’s written underneath,

STRICT GUIDELINES FOR THE PRIZES OF THE ESTABLISHMENT

1. YOU ARE NOT TO ARRIVE AT THE ESTABLISHMENT WITH ANY PERSONAL ITEMS.

2. YOU ARE NEVER TO COME TO THE ESTABLISHMENT WITHOUT YOUR MEMEBERSHIP.

3. YOU CAN NEVER BE SEEN WITHOUT YOUR MEMBERSHIP.

4. YOU ARE NOT TO INTERACT WITH STAFF OTHER THAN FELLOW PRIZES.

5. YOU ARE REQUIRED TO SHOW UP TO THE ESTABLISHMENT ON TIME.

6. YOU ARE NOT TO ATTEND TO SERVER AFTER WORK HOURS.

7. YOU ARE NOT TO ACCEPT INFORMAL SERVER REQUESTS.

8. YOU ARE NOT TO PART WITH YOUR MEMBERSHIP EVEN AT THE REQUEST OF SERVER.

9. YOU ARE NOT TO ENTER THE ESTABLISHMET WITHOUT ESCORTS.

10. YOU ARE NOT TO LEAVE THE ESTABLISHMENT WITHOUT ESCORTS.

11. YOU ARE NOT TO DISCUSS THE DETAILS OF YOUR SHIFT AT THE ESTALISHMENT.

12. YOU ARE NOT TO DISCUSS THE ESTABLISHMENT WITH ANY OTHER PARTY OUTSIDE THE OF ESTABLISHMENT.

Welcome Blue Ivy, to 12 Strokes of Midnight.