The Duke and the DJ

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Spin watched the sea of people moving like waves. She was the moon pulling at the gravity of the large open space. With a flick of her wrists, the bodies slowed like a retreating wave pulling at the tide. With the slide of her fingers, she brought them back forward, arms straining overhead as they reached up toward the high ceiling. The crowd of warm bodies drenched in sweat inhaled as she held the needle over the vinyl record. Then she let the beat drop, and the bodies crashed into each other.

Being a DJ was life-bringing. She was heady off the power she commanded with just her hands and her ear for a good mix of beats. She looked out at the dance floor where she was the one making people feel, driving them into a frenzy, causing them to let loose their worries and woes and just be.

Spin cradled her headphones in one hand and tweaked the faders with the other. Her own body bopped to the beat as the approaching change in tempo neared. This crowd got her. They felt the crescendo coming. They slowed their movements in anticipation. Spin could see the whites of their widened eyes as they held their breath.

She aligned the tempos, holding onto the notes, matching the beats before mixing in the new track. When she let the needle drop on the new song, the crowd went positively wild. Spin threw her hands in the air and jumped to the bass along with them.

As the sound came down, the applause drowned out the pulsing sound. Spin didn't take a bow. She never did after a session. It was the music and the muses that created this moment. It flowed through her as though God spoke to the crowd through her fingers.

Spin stepped off the stage and received accolades from the partygoers. She took them all in humbly, as her mother had taught her. People could always choose not to listen to the sounds she created, but they would always pay attention if she made them feel something.

Spin pressed her hand to her chest. The cool feel of the gem hanging on the chain reinforced the link to her mother. Spin knew the woman would be proud of her only daughter. If she were here.

"Great set, DJ Spin d’Elle."

"You set the roof on fire, girl."

Spin gave high fives. She accepted sweaty hugs. She held out her hand for kandi when a girl slipped a few of the glowing bracelets over her wrist.

Even after her set, Spin was still on a high. She sipped at her cola, letting the sugar give her a rush. Who needed drugs when music could make you soar with zero side effects?

Though of course there were tipsy twits teetering in stilettos. Frat boys chugging beer after beer like it was Kool-Aide. And clueless stiffs dressed in what they thought was cool for a night slumming in a rave club.

Those types of partygoers annoyed Spin. They were here for an experience. Music was her life.

When a few of the frat boys made a beeline to her, Spin slipped behind the staging area. She was not into mama’s boys. She had no desire to take care of anyone but herself, and those boys clearly advertised that they were looking for a girlfriend to do their laundry and beer runs. No, thank you.

Spin made quick work of the cables on the ground. She heard a thump and was sure one of her suitors had likely not been watching where he was going. Looking over her shoulder, she saw that she was home free. The way was clear.

"That was awesome."

Spin jumped, whipping around to face forward. A tiny brunette stood before her where the back hall had been empty a second before.

"Stop doing stuff like that, Lark.” Spin huffed, her heart rate pounding at its cage. "Keep your magic tricks on the stage where they belong."

“This is a stage.”

Spin reached out and gave the woman a playful shove. Glitter flittered from Lark’s shoulders like fairy dust. Spin looked at her friend quizzically.

Lark shrugged, casting more glitter from her person. "Part of the new act. The Great Nitwitini thinks it adds to the magic. More sparkle to razzle dazzle them."

"Well, at least he’s stopped trying to saw you in half."

Lark rubbed at her belly and winced. That trick had not gone well during their practice sessions. The young magician never seemed able to get the hang of the oft-performed trick. Even Spin, who provided the music for their act, had been able to see through the illusion. As Nitwitini, or Northwood as his true surname was, grew increasingly frustrated, he also grew increasingly careless with the trick that included the use of a blade.

Lark had put her foot down about it. Luckily, it was while her legs were still attached to her body. As a magician's assistant, Lark had been put through the wringer. Literally.

"Are you sticking around here for the after after party?” Lark asked. “Or you headed out?"

Spin shook her head. "Nah, DJ Satisfriction is up next."

Both women cringed.

“All you had to say was the party is about to be over," said Lark.

DJ Satisfriction had a big bankroll, courtesy of his parents, and no skills. But he was a celebrity, so he brought in the crowd. Spin had warmed them up for him. Now he would cool them down, and the true partygoers would go off and find a new party. It was the Millennial way. They party hopped until dawn.

"Let's grab a bite," said Lark. "I'm starving. You're paying.”

Before they could take two steps, Lark reached down and grabbed Spin’s hand. She whirled on her friend with arched brows.

“You have gotten paid tonight, haven't you?”

Spin shrugged. She’d forgotten to go to the manager’s office. She did this for the love, not the money. Before Spin could open her mouth, Lark steered them to the owner's office. Spin knew better than to protest the tiny bundle that was Lark Voorhees. She carried a wand and, unlike the magician she assisted, Lark knew how to use it.

The club manager looked up and grimaced when he saw Lark enter his office. No words were necessary. He didn’t hesitate. Spin was certain the man didn’t want a repeat of last week. Lark was just as good at making things disappear as she was at making them appear.

The manager reached in his desk drawer and drew out a wad of cash. "I was just coming to find you, Spin. Here's your pay."

Lark snatched it and counted. The owner gritted his teeth as she did so. A drop of sweat trickled down his brow.

"It's one hundred Euros short," said Lark.

“What?” His brows rose in surprise. “It’s what Spin and I agreed on. Right, Spin?”

It wasn’t.

“Oh?” said Lark. “Well if you agreed to short her, I’m sure that money will appear someway somehow.”

Lark turned back to the door, a mischievous grin on her face as she made her way to Spin.

“Wait,” the manager called before Lark could cross the threshold.

The look on Lark’s face screamed thought so.

He dove under his desk to the door to a hidden safe open that Spin had only learned was there after Lark’s last visit with her to the office. Lark smirked when she saw his actions. She could get into it with no trouble. It wouldn’t be the first time. He reemerged just a minute later with a fresh note.

Lark snatched it from his grubby hands with a polite smile that belied her true feelings. “Nice doing business with you.”

"Lark," Spin tsked when they were out of the room, "You promised to use your powers for good."

"All bets are off when I'm hungry. Besides, he’s a chauvinist. He pays the male DJs more than you. He’s lucky I didn’t change the combination of his safe after emptying it."

“It has a lock and key now.”

“Child’s play.” Lark handed Spin the wad of cash as they exited into the warehouse that had been converted into a club.

Most of the places Spin played were such converted places. A cool breeze greeted them as they stepped outside the sweat-drenched club and into the night air of Nice, France. Being near the water, the nights always turned a bit cold. As the two friends began to go down the list of possible places there was to eat, a rustling sound came from behind the garbage can.

They froze. But they saw a gruff shoe poking out from behind the overflowing dumpster. It was a woman. Her face was covered in smudges of dirt. She clutched a half-eaten sandwich in one hand. She held onto the similarly grubby hand of a child in the other.

The child was a bit cleaner with somewhat nicer clothes. She held a burger patty with no bread. She chewed quickly as she eyed Lark and Spin, as though she was afraid they’d take her last bite of food away.

Spin took careful, slow steps as she went over to them. The mother pushed the child behind her. Spin peeled off the one hundred Euro note and handed it to the mother. The woman's eyes grew wide.

Without waiting for a thanks or any praise, Spin turned and continued on her way with Lark in tow. She didn't hear anything from her friend. They'd both known that particular struggle.

"Thanks for getting me all that I was due,” Spin said. “You were right, I needed it."

Spin pressed her hand to her heart, finding all the security she needed in the cold gem she found there. She knew money was necessary. But holding on to it only brought bad things. Money behaved best when it was put into service for someone in need.