In the rusted and decaying slums of a steel city, where LED plastered rot in flashy optic bandages concealing corruption and alienation, sat a building alight in an enthralling glow. A land-marker at the crossroads of two streets too many to be named, squished in the shadow of iron and glass giants. Gnarls of wires humming with disdain for codes and regulations joined ropes of gaseous light in a plethora of colors. Their tangling masses canopied and framed a two story building of old grey brick. Awash in rainbow haze, a red 'open' sign flickered in a crusty and transparent green window. Advertisements for cigarettes and beer rallied up to it's sides, cherry hues oscillating over their hyper saturated surfaces. Above a creaky sliding door apt to take its time was another sign, luminescent blue and violet, punching through the night in its draw. It read in slanted script,
Midnight Market.
The locals, poor unluckies, and those reckless enough to roam the sleaze and muck gave out directions like the little market built the sector. 'Head west three blocks, until Midnights', then a mile north and you'll reach the business district. 'Swing left at the colorful market, and just a block down and you'll be there.' 'Head to Midnight Market and take the road on the right.' The little store decked in ropes of lights and colorful posters was advertisement enough in the endless grey city. Regulars and new visitors alike stepped through the doors, searching for sustenance or substances. There were also those who didn't purchase anything, just stopped for a moment of rest at shabby plastic benches and tables bolted along the front windows.
A bell, rudely drilled into the machinery of a dead sensor, rang as it hit a screw forced into the metal or the door. A delayed chime in organic contrast to the beeps and whirs of an electric world.
Inside sugary treats and carb-riddled goodies filled tall shelves lined in slim aisles. A few scuffed up stools folded up at their ends, needed to reach their highest cubbies. A humble grocery section stuffed into a corner hosted a chilled unit lightly stocked with veggies and meats, while clear faced fridges filled with beverages and beer lined the walls. Stickers and remnants of old glue tacking up their glass. In the far corner swinging saloon doors led to darkness leaking trills and clinking, the scent of hope and desperation found in spinning digital tiles leaked into the rest of the establishment. Above the door was an old sign that guided poor souls through their swinging hinges. 'Video Lottery'. A cracking linoleum checkerboard floor added to its shabby charm, diagonal tiles all leading to the front counter. A long metal box with a scratched and cut up counter, caked in stickers, with a clear square displaying scratch tickets. An old glass teddy bear-turned cyborg had a scanner mounted to its head. The little fellow held its gut in front of a sputtering heap of a register possessing tech a couple decades old.
And commanding it all, in front of rows of boxed cigarettes, vapes, juice pods, nefarious 'enhancement' pills, and tins of sweet leaf-- like a goddess of register, regulator of ID's, partitioner of payouts, queen of tobacco, granter of intoxication, wheeler and dealer of snacks, modest and always polite receiver of tips-- was the store attendant. Or at least for her shifts, Sunday through Wednesday from eight-thirty at night until four in the morning.
"Ahhh! The ever lovely Ever." A masculine voice sung out and fingers drummed across the counter. A familiar face slid into view.
"Eriiiiiiii—." Ever sang back, cutting his name by a letter and drawing it out.
He groaned at the whiny exaggeration and drug his hands down his face. "Not that. I hate that"
She giggled. "All alone tonight?" Usually the charismatic and alluring man came in with a group. Two to three men, all a little rough and suspicious. That and sometimes women, different ones, never the same any more than twice from what she had observed. A natural playboy. Enchanting everyone with foxish deep blues and an easy smile.
Eris shrugged, leaned against the counter, "Maybe I wanted to see only your beautiful face tonight."
Ever routinely grabbed a pack of '70/30 Mint Fines' off the shelf. Twenty little white tubes, seventy percent tobacco-thirty percent mint, served right up. "Ha!" She scoffed. Tapped on the pos screen and held the pack out to him between two fingers. "Unlikely, but I'm charmed."
He plucked his smokes from her, tongue dancing over his teeth and an amused smirk on his face. "Oh? Are you really?"
"I think you charm everyone." She joked, brushing off his casual flirting with a wave of her hand. Her work persona flipped on, her already light and airy personality amplified into the perfect candidate for customer service.
He tapped the cigarettes on sticker and wood, packing their contents before he casually leaned in over the counter. The amber musk of his cologne mixed with mint and smoke. Those royal blue eyes trained on hers and she was pulled for a moment, suddenly a little more aware of his presence, "But do I charm you, Ever?"
A tiny breath wheezed from her as his more demanding question caught her off guard. Her smile twisted nervously and her eyebrows scrunched up a bit. Heat radiated from her face and she was sure she was redder than the neon 'open' sign in the window. "Um.." An irritated voice inside her begged her to say something to the handsome man. She just stared with a stupid small smile, unsure of how to proceed as he and his rugged beauty crowded in like a weapon wielded against her.
After a moment he let out a rich laugh and leaned away. Still close enough to crowd over the teddy scanner. He looked her up and down, eyes dragging over her appreciatively something delightfully sinister in their depths. "You wear everything on your face. It's so adorable."
Ever shook her head, doing her best to keep her head, laughing along with him, red cheeked and swollen tongued. "Well when you lay it on so thick it's hard not to."
"Have you thought anymore about my offer?"
The bubbly laughter died in her throat and her smile shrunk as amber eyes looked up at him through feathery lashes. A lip rolled between teeth. Yes she had thought about it, panties soaked through rolling around in her bed while she contemplated sending him a message. He'd made it very clear what he was offering last week when he'd loaded his contact info into her phone. Casual fun.
"I... did." She'd resisted. He was promiscuous and she had seen the volume of women he entertained. Not that she was seriously interested in him. Eris was strictly a no-strings-attached kind of guy. "But I don't think it's a good idea." They'd fuck a few times and then what? She'd have to watch him come in and out of the market. Sell him his cigs and act like it wouldn't be awkward. And the heavens forbid he brought a new fling along. That'd be really weird.
"I won't pressure you, sweetheart." He retreated yet his intoxicating scent lingered. A wrist held up to the bear and a beep signaled the transaction had been processed. "But if you change your mind, you have my number. I'm always available for you." He gave her a devilish wink as he sauntered to the door, calling over his shoulder as its creaking panes slid open, "Have a good night, Ever."
"Goodnight." She called back, cheeks still flushed and a little starry eyed. And then he was gone and the spell of his beauty was wearing off. Stupid, stupid, stupid, Ever! She scolded herself about entertaining him and yet her phone and the draw of his number weighed heavy in her pocket.
...maybe.
In the fashion of the busy market, the door chimed again and in came another familiar face, though it was not one she expected to see at one in the morning. "Good evening, Bill." The manager of Midnights was a portly man with a hard face. One that wasn't likable from first glance, accompanying a reserved attitude that could border abrasive.
"How ya doing tonight, young lady?"
"Pretty good!" She had learned long ago the best way to be with Bill was to counter his gloominess with rainbows and sunshine. Her co-workers had always matched the man, straight faced and strictly business. Ever, on the other hand, had never been too good at being reserved. She was too smiley. An ever present optimism instilled by her gran was a core part of her personality she refused to sacrifice to the cruel clutches of their capitalist society. And it'd worked for her. She didn't think many people opened up the door to have more comfortable and human interactions with him. "It's been a steady night so far. What brings you in here so late?"
He adjusted his pants with a grunt, shifting his weight from one thick leg to the other. "Well, I just got finished with a lo-oong meeting with the big bosses"
"Oof, an all dayer."
"Mmmhmm." He grimaced and pointed a thick finger toward the shelves behind her. "Grab me a carton of the Royals, would ya." He interjected, turning the creaky old register towards himself to add his smokes to the ledger. "They're is some restructuring happening up top. Big wigs dishing out some promotions and your name was brought up."
"Really?" Ever was mildly shocked and even wondered what kind of promotion could possibly be had at the little market. When she was hired a year and a half ago, she signed employment papers to a company formally known as Midnight Market Management Group, which supposedly had locations 'all over'. But when she researched the little market the only listing that came up was for the single store in the slums with no street address. Just a little blue marker as confirmation of its existence.
"Yup, they've been doing watch-throughs," Bill pointed up to the blinking cameras sunk into the darkened corners of the room. "I got a lot of compliments on your personality and work ethic." He bragged looking proud. "I figured since I was already in the area--instead of waiting-- I'd stop in and extend their offer of a promotion to ya' right away."
Her eyes grew twice in size, stars swirling in their color. "A promotion?" That usually meant better pay and better hours. A little more cash for her and gran. Perhaps no more night shifts. The work economy in the steel city was cruel and Ever had desperately taken what she could when she'd been hired. But she missed the morning. Missed waking up with the sun, not trudging her way home as its rising rays stung her tired eyes.
"Yup. Our head of inventory and registrar is in need of a new assistant. Mostly just grunt work but there is a pay raise and-
"I'll take it!" That was all she needed to hear. That was all anyone needed to hear in the world they lived in.
Bill chortled, took his carton of smokes in one hand, swiveled to register back around and scanned his wrist under the teddy. The credits transferred and the trilling ring of confirmation now hit her ears with a refreshed musical quality.
"Alright. I'll make the arrangements. Your weekend starts today right?"
She nodded.
"Alright. Enjoy yourself then come in at your usual time on Sunday. Your new boss will meet you here. He can be quite an eccentric man. Likes to work nights, not a fan of formalities. His name is Veil Deveaux."
Veil Deveaux. Ever nodded with a big grin, thinking about how cool his name sounded, only a little disappointed she would still be stuck with night shifts.
"Easy with that smile, kid. You look a little too happy to leave me." Bill joked.
"No, no, not at all!" She whipped her head back and forth. It was the truth. Many of the people stuck in the service industries hated their jobs, management, and the unlivable pay that often came with the work. And though she definitely had her gripes with the system, she genuinely enjoyed her position as the store attendant. Her coworkers were nice, the customers were great, and Bill had been accommodating and kind for a manager.
"Yeah, uh-huh, whatever." The big man rolled his eyes in good nature. Then he gave her a soft smile and a salute. "Good luck with the new job kid. I'm gonna get my ass home and in bed now."
The smile hadn't left her face as she stretched it wider. "Of course! And thank you!"
"No problem." He headed towards the doors in the jaunting rhythm big men usually had. "You're a hard worker, you deserve it. I'll see ya when I see ya, Ever" And then he too was gone, the last traces of him vanished at the end of murky green glass.
"Yes! Yes, yes!" She punched the air, jumping around in a violent dance. Advancement in the steel city was like striking gold. If a position opened up someone was canned, fucked up so bad they were thrown out. Or they had died. Positions were tight locked. Jobs were desperately held onto like ones very survival depended on it; because it did. Money didn't move and retirement never came. This meant less hours working for her grandmother, who-- at the sturdy age of fifty-six-- had long been wearing down from her labor as a garment worker. If the pay was good enough maybe even better treatment for grans arthritis. Not just the pain pills that cost a third of her salary, but actual therapy and real healing.
Ever sent out little prayers in her dance to anyone who would listen.