<strong>Tyson:</strong><br/><br/>"My name's Emmie," the other girl said.<br/><br/>"If you can promise I won't have to deal with him, ever again, I'll... I'll go dance." Desiree looked over to Emmie for support, and got a small nod back from her. "Yeah. Okay."<br/><br/>As Tyson looked through his playlist, he got an answer back from Alyson. {"He's not very popular. Magic likes how he keeps the place running, but that's about it. Stubborn ass, won't change his mind or listen once he's made it up. Thinks 20 years in the air force sitting at a desk made him a tough guy. Turnover isn't high for a strip joint though, no. What happened?"}<br/><br/>Lindsay was waiting at the bar in the corner right next to the STAFF door when Tyson walked out. "Jesus, he hit her? What the fuck? Uhm, the only camera is locked in the office, we don't have a key. I mean, I'm sure somebody has a phone with a badass camera, but uh, I don't. Oh! Hey, that delivery guy needs a signature from you, Mr. Management." She pointed him in the direction of the man in his uniform, back over at the table with the women that Tyson had noticed earlier.<br/><br/><hr/><br/><strong>Sun-hwa:</strong><br/><br/>The small item turned out to be a playing card of some sort, apparently old and cheaply made. It was nearly black with age and dirt, and had a piece of scotch tape sticking up on the top and bottom edges, like it had been taped to something. On the back was a misaligned knockoff of the Bicycle deck design, and the front had nothing but a picture of a small stone tower.<br/><br/>Down the hall, Sun-hwa could see that the door leading into the bedroom had been replaced with what looked like a metal-reinforced screen door. Since the door wasn't solid, she could see into the room easily enough. It had all the usual bedroom furniture, a bed, a dresser, a nightstand, and included a small table with a mirror and some makeup scattered around on it. Leaning up against one wall was a regular interior door, likely the one that had been removed to make way for this one.<br/><br/>The kitchen looked like a standard kitchen, except for the lack of a microwave. The counter dropped down to serve as a bar on the living room side of the apartment, and two stools were set up at it, although one had been knocked down. Next to the other stool, on the floor, was a disconnected answering machine, a tiny bit of dust on top of it. Sitting on the bar above it was an old plastic telephone. Mounted on the wall above that was a calendar, still on August, with careful red X's through every day up until the 29th. A pair of small books sat next to the phone, one a day planner, the other had a plain black faux-leather cover, and sat open midway through. Inside was a list of names, addresses, and phone numbers. These two pages were for K's, and had four entries.<br/><br/>The living room had two couches and a recliner, all arranged in a circle around a sturdy-looking wooden coffee table. There was no TV, but there were a couple bookshelves against the walls, filled with an assortment of paperback novels. Behind the couches, a sliding door let out into the area behind the building. The stick to lock the sliding door was out of the track, laying on the carpet. On the bottom shelf of one of the bookshelves was a pile of old calendars, about nine of them.<br/><br/>There was a clock in each room of the apartment, but the only picture to be seen was one of those novelty old-timey photos, of a girl probably in her late teens, and a woman who looked like her mother, hanging on the long wall in the living room. Nobody was home, and aside from the stool that had been knocked down, and the wooden stick for the door being out of the track, nothing looked like it had been disturbed.<br/><br/><hr/><br/><strong>Jessie:</strong><br/><br/>"Aside from having to be here? No." Angie turned her phone so that Jessie could see the screen. She had a text conversation up with her classmate, and had sent her a couple of messages. Her last message read {"yes we have hot lesbian sex all the fucking time. look ive sat through most of this dance. you said if i came to candybar and sat through one dance, youd do your work. are we good?"} "I'm going to fucking stab her, I swear to god. Just waiting on one stupid reply, then I'm through with her."<br/><br/>Angie pushed her shot across the table to Nadia, and both the other women reached out for it. "Fuck you, you're an asshole," Nadia growled at the student, as she snatched it up. The woman blinked in surprise again, apparently not expecting to be unpopular tonight, and leaned back in her seat. Her forehead wrinkled, and she picked her phone up off the table again, messing with it.<br/><br/>"Yoooo," Liam called out from behind Jessie again. "Looks like it's later. Nah, the manager is in the back right now." He pulled up another chair, and settled himself down at the table, the package resting in front of him. "We having a glare session? I'm down for it." He put on a faux-angry expression, directing his glare at Angie's classmate, who was beginning to look somewhat resentful, and sinking down in her seat.