Beautiful Souls

Chrystal Winter's life is about to change forever. Fleeing from her dark past and her former self, she finds her self making a small but successful living in sunny LA. Whereupon, she meets the young, wild force of nature that is Ashton Irwin. Immediately drawn to one another but for what reasons? Chrystal's heart isn't the only thing she's desperate to keep secret...


19. Chapter 19

Chrystal woke late Saturday evening. She groaned loudly, tonight was the night of her private performance. She hated them with a passion. It had been three days since her date with Ashton and he had neither called or text. She was in a foul mood, she scowled at her reflection in the mirror. She hated the influence this man had over her happiness. She ate her dinner without much pleasure and got ready for work slowly, with little enthusiasm. Unwillingly, at 10pm, she left her home. The weather outside seemed to mirror her temper perfectly. Clouds were building, and there was an electricity in the air which made the hairs on her arms stand on end. There was going to be a storm, Chrystal shuddered at the memories they brought flooding back. "Not tonight," Chrystal growled, blocking the rush of thoughts that were about to engulf her. At the same time, lightening flashed over head, which was followed by a low rumble. She smiled, and got into her car, slamming the door behind her. 

The oncoming storm seemed to be setting everyone on edge tonight. The girls at work seemed more wound up and snappy, even Jack barely managed a smile as he lined up her Sambuca shot. She necked it without flinching. "Another," she said. This stopped Jack in his tracks. He raised a thick eyebrow at her quizzically but poured another without asking any questions. She managed a small, half-hearted smile and he smiled warmly back at her. He then poured out another shot for himself and raised it towards Chrystal, "Bottoms up." 
Sighing heavily, she clinked her glass against his and drained the small measure of burning liquid. He leaned on his forearms across the bar from Chrystal, studying her face for a moment. She was looking down at her empty glass, her elegant eyebrows were furrowed slightly, and she had a small crease in her forehead, which Jack had come to recognise from when Chrystal had gotten upset, or frustrated. He was tempted to reach his fingers out and smooth away that little crease. It pained him to see her upset. 

"What's the matter Angel?" He said softly. Chrystal looked up at him, he was leaning on his forearms, his face just a foot from hers. The closeness of him comforted her somehow. "Just nervous for tonight," she lied. He scoffed and shook his head slightly. "You are the most beautiful, talented woman in this club," he said, his voice louder now, "You have no reason to be scared." She rolled her eyes but smiled affectionately at him. Jack always knew what to say when she felt like this. "Thank you Jack," she said, laying her hand on top of his which were clasped in front of him. He looked down at their hands for a moment before looking up at Chrystal, his expression was unreadable. Something flickered in his eyes, and Chrystal briefly noticed that his eyes had hints of yellow in them before gently pulling her hands away from him. His face reddened slightly and he stood upright, flashing her a toothy smile. The same smile she'd seem him land many successful dates with countless women. She laughed at her friend before disappearing into the dressing room. 

Sticking to her word, she wore her Geisha costume- it was the least revealing. It was made mostly of black silk, which had green and red ornate designs. It stopped just before mid thigh and covered her whole body, except a key whole cut out, which fastened at the throat, exposing a good portion of her cleavage. It had long, loose flowing sleeves which came to rest at her knuckles. She wore the lowest black stilettos she owned. She got Kelly to pull her hair up into a tight Asian bun and inserted chop sticks for effect. Chrystal had always sucked at doing her own hair, make up was her forte. She wore the lightest foundation she had, no blush. She painted long, elegant flicks onto her eyes with her gel eyeliner and painted her lips a bright red and filled in her eyebrows. She left her mascara till last, curling her lashes before applying a single coat. She smiled at her reflection, satisfied with her work. She pulled out her matching black fan and clipped it to the small loop at the waist of her dress. It was ten past eleven, she should be on the floor by now. She sighed and began to mentally prepare herself for the shift to come. 


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