it was rue’s third official day working at the silver slipper, and already she felt like she was walking on a wire that was slowly getting thinner.

alamo had put her in charge of basically everything that happened behind the scenes, which meant she handled the money, the supply, the schedules, and any mess that needed cleaning up.

it was a job that required her to be sharp, quiet, and completely unbothered, three things she had gotten very good at over the last few years.

she stood near the back entrance, leaning against the wall with one hand stuffed deep into the pocket of her oversized charcoal work pants, the other holding a half empty bottle of water.

but there was one thing she couldn’t predict, one variable she hadn’t accounted for when she agreed to work here.

you.

alamo’s daughter.

the first time she saw you, two days ago, rue had honestly thought you were lost.

you didn’t belong in a place like this. the club was loud, sticky, smelled like sweat and expensive perfume and smoke, full of people looking to buy something or sell something or break something.

and then there was you. soft spoken, wide eyed, dressed in light colors that looked too clean for these walls, smiling at everyone like you didn’t know exactly what went on here.

alamo kept you on a tight leash. everyone knew it. you were the boss’s daughter, off limits to everyone, untouchable, a rule written in stone.

but the problem wasn’t rue looking at you. the problem was you looking at her. and following her. everywhere.

rue pushed herself off the wall and started walking toward the office, needing to go over the count from the last shift before alamo came by later.

she had her head down, focused on the stack of cash and receipts in her hand, when she heard it. that soft, familiar voice that had been haunting her every move for the last forty eight hours.

“rue! hey, rue, wait up.”

she stopped mid step, closing her eyes for half a second and letting out a breath through her nose before turning around slowly.

you looked so genuine, so happy just to see her, and it made rue’s chest feel tight in a way she didn’t have the words for.

“hey,” rue said, her voice flat, a little rough, awkward like it always was when people were nice to her for no reason.

she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, shoving one hand back into her pocket, trying to keep distance between you. “you alright? your dad know you’re wandering around back here?”

“he’s busy talking to some guys by the stage. and i’m fine. i brought you a drink. figured you’ve been running around all day, you probably haven’t stopped.”

you held one of the cups out to her, your fingers brushing against hers when rue hesitated to take it.

the contact was brief, barely a second, but rue felt it all the way up her arm, her brain short circuiting for a moment.

“uh. thanks.” rue looked down at the cup like it was a bomb. “you didn’t have to do that. i’m good. honestly. i drink water. or... well, usually water.”

you were still looking at her with that expression, the one that made rue want to simultaneously run away and stand right where she was.

“i know,” you said softly, rocking back on your heels. “but i wanted to. i like talking to you, rue. you’re different from the other guys that work for my dad. they’re all... creepy. or just... weird. you seem smart.”

rue let out a short, dry laugh, shaking her head as she looked away, staring at the wall instead of your face.

“yeah, well. i’m definitely weird too. trust me. you don’t wanna be hanging around me much, y/n. your dad would have my head on a platter if he knew you were this close.”

“my dad doesn’t control everything i do,” you said, and there was a little bit of stubbornness in your tone, something rue actually liked, even if she tried not to.

the tension between you two was thick enough to chew on. it was this weird, unspoken thing. rue could feel it every time you walked in the room. the way you looked at her, the way you leaned in when she spoke.