The Cattery's Girl

The pink-and-purple-haired receptionist at the Asterisk Lounge inspected her fingernails, leaning on one elbow as the pre- and post-trip groups crowded in the little front area, a cloud of haziness obscuring everything there was to be thought and said. As it was, there wasn't much of either; some people were too busy enhancing their Lounge trip with actual drugs, and others were muttering to themselves about disappearing people, burning to ashes, and bloodless corpses. The usual signs of the addicted.
   She would never admit to being addicted to what the Lounge provided, herself, but that was just to keep up appearances. She was a Catter through and through – she belonged on the negative second floor; this was just her night job. Looking up and giving a distracted "deal" of the usual hundred dollars to a group of five she hadn't seen before, most likely tourists, she let one of the addicts who hadn't been in yet sneak behind them so they could get down to their trip level. Everyone had their preferences, and it definitely showed in the crowd, and she had been instructed to let the addicts in for free, so they became popular and well-known faces around the building.
   The other staff didn't envy her job, and she didn't envy theirs, but at least she got enough social interaction from hers. The last maid had gone crazier because she'd been instructed not to speak with any of the other staff, a cruel joke on the part of the owner of the Lounge that he had promised would never happen again. The receptionist, however, was the one who could be fired at a moment's notice and had to deal with the owner's mood swings daily, whereas the others were free to come and go as they pleased. Plus she had to deal with the "word ban" day after day... she didn't get why they couldn't just say the damn word; it was fine enough on its own.
   Penelope dealt with it, though. Life went on, even when you couldn't say... that word.
   "Hey, Penny!" She looked up at the source of the voice, and nodded, her voice a little shaky – but she wouldn't let that show, now would she?
   "Hey, Marv. New friend?" she asked, nodding to a nervous-looking new guy, whose eyes were darting all around the building like there was some kind of escape route. "Hey, listen, there's a new deal for groups of six or more... A round hundred for all of you to go down, but you know the rules – down to the eighth before you come back up."
   Marvin grinned, shaking his head. "Drac thought it would be a good idea to bring the newbie here, scare him into the nightlife a little. Hey, Drac, got a hundred?" he asked over his shoulder, aiming the query at the somewhat overweight pale boy who followed him in here every time, and, every time, gave him the money to get down below the Lounge's ground floor. This time wasn't any different. She took the two fifties and settled them into her lockbox with the care of a loving mother and scanned seven of the entry cards for the group, trying to smile reassuringly at the new guy as he passed. The Asterisk Below wasn't so bad, not if you eased into it.
   For some reason, she doubted he would be eased into it. Whatever; she didn't have to worry about the customers unless one of the vamps tried to kill them or something. Returning to inspecting her fingernails, the receptionist smiled, and anyone watching could almost say there was a bit of evil to it. Either that or her song was playing; it was hard to tell. All trippy elevator music tended to sound the same.