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All Eyes On Me	By : ibgarry Category: +G through L > Ib Views: 1242 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Previously uploaded on AO3 and FFN. I do not own Ib or its characters, nor do I make money from this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
It took an hour for Mary to arrive, and she panicked under the stress of getting dressed in under thirty minutes, as she always did. After a brief discussion, it was confirmed that, yes, Mary had the job of bondage fetishes on Friday and, yes, Carrie was very upset.
It took a few minutes to pull everyone together to leave the room before Mary stopped all three of her co-workers.
She looked at Garry from across the room. "Hey, can you and Carrie go ahead? Pretty please?" She clapped her hands together and winked. "I need to talk to Ib for a second."
The idea took a moment for Garry to register. "Alright." He mumbled at Carrie to follow, and they left without another word.
Once the two of them were out of earshot, Mary spoke. "Do you like Garry?"
Ib went wide-eyed. "Huh?"
"You know… would you date him? Or is he just a friend to you?"
"I haven't thought about him like that, Mary."
Mary looked suddenly sad, and Ib's brows knitted together. Mary pried some more. "Would you, though? You two would look so good together."
"Mary, we have to go-"
"Answer the question!"
Ib flinched. Mary's expression twisted into a wry smile. "Would you?"
"It's against my contract."
"Oh, contract-shmontract!" She laughed, waving her hand. "My daddy owns this place. He can't touch you."
Ib had a bad taste in her mouth.
"Besides, we're friends right?"
"Of course."
"Alright!" Mary cheered, clapping her hands for grating applause. "Keep this conversation between you and me, okay?"
"Of course." Ib didn't dare mention the fact Garry was a full ten years older. She didn't need the backlash again, after all.

Ib's outfit that night was much less extravagant than usual; she donned a mini-skirt that couldn't have been more than six inches from waistband to hem, as well as a small bikini top, covering only what it needed to. Mary and Ib's outfits were relatively similar, save from their differing patterns and colors. It was generally assumed that they had coordinated their outfits, which was true.
Garry was the temporary disc jockey that night, as he always was, running the computerized jukebox playlist from behind the scenes. All the while, Carrie would come backstage at frequent intervals to keep him company and bother him, which thoroughly entertained him.
It was clear to him, though, as he watched from behind the curtain that Ib was not her usual self. There was a way she moved with a certain lethargy that was almost alarmingly obvious, but the rest of the crowd was so absorbed that anyone hardly noticed. To them, she was her usual self. Ib's brief conversation was subconsciously clawing at the back of her mind, but she hardly noticed that it was affecting her.
Mary, on the other hand, was fantastic. As usual.
It was a shorter night than usual; Thursdays were not the most popular nights for strip clubs, after all. Only until 12am rolled around did the last of all four of them, fully dressed, re-enter the main hub of activity- Carrie and Mary's dressing room. Garry had worked the first and last hours of the night, with room in between to watch his friends work. Mary had already left by the time Garry was up for his last shift, so she was absent from the room. Her absence went, frankly, largely ignored.
Garry entered just as Carrie was leaving, and Carrie made sure he knew.
"I was just on my way out," she informed him, bringing him into a hug. Her cotton scarf was wrapped tight around her neck, and her purse hung beside her waist. In turn, it was very evident that she was in the process of leaving. "I'll see you tomorrow, Gare-bear." Her voice was softer next to his ear, though she was much shorter than him and could just barely reach the side of his face. Ib was the same.
Only after Carrie had softly closed the door behind her did Garry fully register Ib's presence at her typical spot in front of the mirror.
She had wiped her makeup nearly clean off already. She was just as pretty with it than she was without, but she only wore it for work. She had changed already into her sheer blouse and pink tulle skirt.
"How's it going with you?" Garry chimed in.
"Fine," she replied plainly. It was very obvious she was focused on getting her job done as quickly as possible. Garry didn't take much offense.
When she had finished, Ib threw the rags away. "Sorry about that," she apologized, suddenly self-aware. Garry stood up, and Ib did the same, smoothing out the back of her skirt and adjusting the waist. She brushed stray hair out of her face.
"I'll walk you out, then."
"Can I ask you something first?"
The statement caught Garry off-guard, but he obliged. "Alright."
Abruptly, Ib became very hesitant before she spoke up. "I was wondering if you could paint me tomorrow, but… I wasn't sure if, maybe, that was too soon."
It didn't take Garry very long to turn the idea in his mind. "I'm not doing anything tomorrow, so… sure."
"Would it be alright to stay over tonight, or… is that pushing my boundaries?"
That was more of a shock, but Garry didn't want to let it show. His reply took longer to formulate, but he managed. "No, that's fine with me. If you really want to."
A faint color returned to her face; Garry hadn't realized it ever left until the pink in Ib's cheeks was brighter.
"Want me to follow you back?"
"Yeah, sure." Somehow, he seemed almost happy about the idea. Although still recovering from the embarrassment of asking, Ib was pleased with herself.
She took Garry's hand and followed him out.

Ib parked her car alongside Garry's. She rolled down her window as Garry approached, having already left his car to guide Ib up to his apartment.
"It's okay that I'm parking here, right?" She asked cautiously.
"Of course."
With a smile, Ib rolled her window back up and unlocked her door. She stepped out and locked it again with her keys.
"Alright," she affirmed, nodding to Garry. He took the gesture as confirmation to walk ahead, and he did so.
Garry struggled with his key ring before finding the key to his apartment. He wasn't used to his new set since he'd changed the lock a week ago, but he managed.
His apartment was as ordinary as any other, Ib found as Garry swung the door open and let Ib take his lead. White drywall, white counters, white carpet. It had more furniture than hers, which she expected. It was a very warm, welcoming space, despite it being very dark.
Garry turned on the light in the foyer, but even with it the den and surrounding dining room and kitchenette were nearly pitch-black. Ib pried her ballerina flats off of her heel and dropped them on the tile in the entryway.
Her feet met carpet as she entered the living room. Garry was still struggling to unlace his boots in the threshold. Ib heard him grunt and turned, struggling not to giggle at the sight of him attempting to yank the shoes off of his ankles.
Once he had them off, he sighed, out of breath even from the simple act of taking his shoes off. "Home sweet home," he breathed, just loud enough for Ib to hear from a few yards away. Garry couldn't help but think that he really needed new shoes, but he tried to dismiss the thought.
"I like your apartment," Ib commented, plopping herself down on the couch. "It's quaint. You don't smoke in here, do you?"
"No, I don't," He replied. He put his hands on his hips, glancing around the room. Ib only watched him.
"Seems kinda big for just you, though." There was no denying it was definitely more than a space for one person to live on his own.
"Yeah, well…"
"Don't you have, I don't know, a girlfriend or something?"
Garry only laughed. It wasn't an outrageous thought, but he had every right to laugh at the idea. "I work at a strip club. Not a lot of people appreciate that."
It became suddenly so obvious to Ib that working at Rosie's was, in fact, a social stigma and not something most people did. "Is that it?"
"You'd be surprised." Garry walked across the room and sat down a few feet away. He pulled his feet up onto the couch. Ib hesitated before doing the same, hoping that she wouldn't come off as rude to him.
"I don't know, I just figured someone would be able to get over it."
The whole idea was thought-provoking to Garry, but somehow enjoyable. "Again, you'd be surprised."
The events of the previous night played again in Ib's mind.
"Would you date him? Or is he just a friend to you?"
Ib couldn't wrap her mind around it. He was really nice and alarmingly pretty at his age (almost relatively androgynous), but the idea was foreign. She couldn't imagine. "Just a friend" fit the definition much better.
"Oh, where can I sleep?" Ib asked. She wasn't necessarily tired just yet; she had worked late enough to earn herself a burst of fatigue-induced energy.
"Oh!" There was a partition separating a hallway at the front of the room from the den. Garry pointed to it, and Ib's eyes followed. "There's a room on the far left. You can sleep there. It should be clean." He was almost doubtful about the tidiness of the room, and it made Ib think.
"Is it your room?"
"Well, yeah, but-"
"Shouldn't you sleep there?"
Garry rubbed his neck out of habit. "No, I can sleep here. You're my guest, after all…!" Ib's face tightened with frustration, but Garry interrupted her before she could argue. "I insist."
Ib almost retaliated, but she realized she had probably caused him enough trouble, after all. "Alright," she sighed, crossing her arms. "Thank you."
She stood from the couch and made her way to the back room.
"Good night!" Garry called from the living room. Ib turned just in time to see him flash her a smile before she walked out of his sight and into the room.
- 7
- 8
- 9
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All Eyes On Me