Stardust [Sekah & MothMINDLESS]

[Sekah]

The Stardust was a dark, empty bar at this time of day, for all the music was still gamely chugging away. The back rooms were mostly silent, but for some desperate day-drinkers; the whoring that would go on well into the night would pick up around five o'clock, when people got off work, and it wasn't that time yet.

Wasn't time at all for Crow, who sidled up to the bar with that look about him he always had, a dog who chews patches of himself raw. He smiled at the new bartender, trying to make a good impression, though it was a painful smile and only at the corners of his mouth—at least he'd bothered with that much. Plenty of the other hookers hadn't.

"Er, hello," he told her, leaning in. He'd just given a man a lap dance, and was sweaty and uncomfortable. He lay half on the counter and sighed, looking out at the bar, before back to her. "Could I have some ice water, please?"

He said it quietly, just to her. Most of the requests she'd get from the hookers and dancers were for vodkas and gin martinis. Water wasn't so unusual, though. It was intentionally hot in here, so the dancers would sweat.

He had to lean in to be heard over the strumming base, nearly whisper it in her ear.

 

[mothMINDLESS]

On the other side of the bar was the bartender's world. Equipped with plentiful beverages, most alcoholic and some not, the wall was fashioned like something out of an armory, yet the supplies were sadly on the cheaper side. The bartender's ammunition consisted more of $20 whiskeys and gins than the stuff of the aristocracy, but in a place like this... who's looking for expensive wine anyway? You're either there for the whores or to ogle the whores. The drinks are just to wet your mouth and dull your mind, and maybe also to give the woman before them a more professional look.

That depends on your point of view. Some might say she looked fine enough without them. Maybe some would say she looked hellish.

A glass of water on the rocks clinked against the bar beside Crow, hand delivered by a redhead with a pretty smile. With an elbow on the bar and her hand on her cheek, she kept close to Crow, her blue eyes glaring into his with focus. "Water? You mean to tell me you're not enamored with the thought of doing some heavy day drinking right now?" The whisper was returned with a slight chuckle. He could still hear her loud and clear.

This was Hope. New to the work of The Stardust, she'd joined just recently to replace an older bartender who was making their way out of the business. She seemed a bit young and her experience was something to question... but the brothel's madam didn't seem to mind anything of the sort, and for her credit? The young woman did seem to slot into the team like a missing puzzle piece. She seemed the agreeable type.

"Regardless, smart choice. I've half a mind to join you, if bartenders were allowed to drink their own product. You guys really keep this place sweltering." Dressed in her simple black button-up and white pencil skirt, she's probably feeling it.

 

[Sekah]

Having been smiled at, Crow retreated further from the woman, smiling back at her like it hurt his teeth to do it. It was forced, obviously forced, and quickly dropped off. He seemed more likely to have a surly, morose expression walking around the bordello than any genuinely cheerful smile like hers. It always cut into his clientele, and preselected him for people who wanted whores to look pained and unhappy, but he could never seem to change it. That was just his face; he had to live with it, he guessed.

He picked up the glass of water and knocked it back like most knock back gin—hell, he'd been thirsty. He tried to laugh at her joke, but it was as forced as his smile. Jesus, didn't this guy ever relax? "I'm not one for whiskey at, oh—1:55 in the afternoon. Call me, um, old-fashioned." Small talk. Damned hard, and his eyes kept slipping off of her, looking to the side, like he expected someone to come up behind him.

"Don't talk to me, talk to Misses Ruby." The respect he put on a fake-ass name like Ruby was comical. "We're all supposed to be sweating—I guess the clients too. But—" And his voice slid into a whisper, leaning in to say it right against her ear, a puff of breath that smelled faintly sweet, like he'd eaten some caramel recently. "—it's awful, right?"

"Are you new in town?" he asked her. The music was just too loud, nobody was listening to it anyway, damn. He wished they could turn it off—it was murder on his stress headache.

 

[mothMINDLESS]

The bartender didn't seem none too displeased, if his social discomfort was rude. She simply kept smiling kindly, her attention clearly focused on Crow in a manner that was not too intrusive nor too apathetic—a unique look only a skilled socialite would be capable of... did she notice his anxiety? The shakiness in his replies as he struggled to keep up? The sorry attempts he'd made to appear like a functional and normal person in this den of sin? If she had... not an etch of judgement would pass through her gaze.

Just kindness that tasted like cinnamon.

A short laugh, drowned in part by the sound of the music yet helped by her starkly clear tone and presence. Locks of her fiery red hair waved slightly to the side, the young woman tilting her head to the right. "What? You shan't be my knight in shining armor and brave the dragon for me? I am the new girl. I complain and my job gets lifted like a wallet in New York," Hope joked. "But, misery makes for company."

The bartender scooped up the emptied glass, quickly pulling it back to dispose of in the sink behind her. "And yes," she'd continue while moving. "I came in just this week, actually. Found a decent apartment that wasn't likely to financially ruin me with bills and enough space for all my junk, so here I am." The cup is dealt with. Praise the sink for its utility and hard work!

Hope turns back to offer a playful smirk.

"Wanna give me a housewarming gift? You're like my senior in this job since you've been here longer. Help a girl decorate and buy her a fern? Or a gun. Neighborhood seems a bit shady, after all."

 

[Sekah]

Crow laughed, unable to hide that he was genuinely flattered she would invite him to her apartment. Whether gay or straight, it seemed a man's buzz at the attentions of a beautiful woman were universal.

"I'd like that," he said. "I'll come over, you want plants?" His secret could come out for that. The weird power he'd always had, to grow them. "I'll fill your apartment. Won't be able to see the wall or ground for greenery—guess like mine," he muttered.

"Do you like flowers? You want a fern? Fan palm? How 'bout a tree." He coughed in his hand. "I'm, uh, I'm a good horticulturalist and I can you know, make sure you have plants that are virtually unkillable." Literally unkillable; he'd leave some of his power in them.

"When do you want me to come over?" he asked, making the date eagerly. Talking about plants for too long and to an extent that was easily boring people was not an uncommon trap Crow fell into, socially.

 

[mothMINDLESS]

Eyes of green stared back at him in witness of his... enthusiasm. Truthfully, in the face of it, maybe most might have been bored or otherwise put off by such plant talk. The type of consideration there to care so much for floral things in a world like this might make a girl turn her nose up, but for Hope... perhaps that would've been a more preferred reaction. She'd only smile wider, her response delayed heavily as she'd do nothing more than stare at Crow.

... It was a little creepy. She'd snap out of it with a laugh.

"Sorry! Sorry, I... did not expect that response. The gun mention didn't clue you in to the joke? I didn't mean to invite a guy I just met out to my house first thing; we haven't even had dinner." She seemed to figuratively and literally pull back, the offer proven to be no more than a playful tease... stinging. Was it that funny to her? But the bartender would calm shortly with a hand to her face.

"Well, let me apologize again. The laughing probably made it seem otherwise, but..." The bartender quickly reached underneath the bar, taking out a small pencil and a torn piece of paper—cheap writing implements necessary at times in the world of bartending. She quickly wrote out a few numbers on the paper and slid it over to Crow. "You've got me curious about your green thumb. When are you off work tonight? I'll meet you around back and we can head there?"

 

[Sekah]

Crow felt his enthusiasm and his faith in himself waver and drop in the face of her long, strange silence. When she spoke, finally, and he realized he'd miffed it, his cheeks burst into scarlet color. Seems you can make a whore blush.

"Sorry," he told her, backing off immediately; wrong-footed. "I don't—I'm actually gay," he told her, meaning to put her at her ease. He meant, he wasn't coming on to her; just genuinely liked the idea of being asked over. "I didn't mean to—I hope I didn't, um, make you—uncomfortable—"

And then she made the date anyway. "I don't get off until two, three AM—I might be able to get out a little earlier, though, if that's okay with you. I didn't mean to—I hope I'm not being rude—" The simplest social situation, and he was falling to pieces, flaming red as a tomato. Not socially adept in the slightest; but maybe an honest young man who truly cared that he didn't bother people. He seemed pretty allergic to situations in which he might have upset someone.

"—If you'd like me to, I can ask her—"

He picked up the numbers, his palm sweating. Shoved them in his pocket. Looked at the floor, afraid he'd upset her, and not wanting to see it.

 

[mothMINDLESS]

Snap! Snap!

... The sharp sound cuts the air, demanding attention to the source as a stern gaze met Crow's. It softened immediately. "Sorry," Hope repeated. Her expression was apologetic, tone low and sincere as she'd seem to regard the young man with more honesty.

"Really, I didn't mean to tease you like that. You seem nice and I don't mean to be rude. I understand your intentions perfectly well, so... I do ask for your forgiveness in this mistake of mine." The apology was partnered with a soft smile and the bow of her head. She seemed almost ceremonial in her politeness, and after a moment to reflect... Hope would continue.

With a more casual and friendly smile as she had before. "Call it water under the bridge? I'll keep wait for you after work. I'm actually off around that time too anyway, so it works for me?" She'd prompt with the question and a raise of her eyebrow. Just with her act alone, it almost seemed like the whole incident that'd just happened was immediately brushed off. A rock washed away by a big wave on the beach; the wave named "Hope" and the rock being the problem. Was she... always like this?

The redhead drummed on the table with her hands, pulling back again with a side-eye glance to the brothel door. "Speaking of... might be best we return to work."

 

[Sekah]

Crow forced another laugh. "It's okay," he said. He nearly sagged in relief at being let off the hook.

"Sure, sure," he said, agreeing to the time, and when she let him go, glad to get out of an awkward social situation, he avoided the bar no matter how thirsty he got for the rest of the night, drinking out of the tap in the bathroom, damn the bacteria and the fact he half-thought the tap was wired to the toilet.

But when he got off, he went to go get her, standing dutifully by her side like an anxious, eager Labrador. He smiled at her—again, like his teeth hurt—and followed her out of the bar. He commuted home, didn't own a car, so at the door he was curious if she had a car, or if they'd be taking public transportation.

 

[mothMINDLESS]

Just as he'd kept to himself for the rest of their shift, so too would the bartender, if in respect to his apparent plight. The next time she'd so much as look his way would be once Crow had come to her, himself. Hope would just be finishing up her task of cleaning the bar and setting cups and bottles back into their respective places; they hadn't had much company, so she finished quickly. "... Mhn. Ready, then." A beatific smile met his own before the bartender would leave her position and lead the way out to the parking lot.

Crow would come to find that Hope, too, didn't own a car. Rather, the redhead seemed to be the owner of another kind of vehicle, one which drove on two wheels and required handlebars. "My wondrous steed," Hope proclaimed as she'd caringly stroke the motorcycle's seat. "Big enough for two, but I've only one helmet. It is yours if you can fit it." In offering, she'd take the bike helmet in question and offer it to Crow, almost pushing it into his hold as she'd turn her attention back to the bike before straddling it proper. A good chunk of the seat would be left for Crow to take.

"If this might be your first time... I hope you're not terribly afraid of bikes? I know some find worry in terms of safety, but I assure you I'm as safe a rider as they come. I'm fairly experienced." Her words were calm and confident. Her position, relaxed as it was, seemed as inviting as her smile. "Might even be fun."

 

[Sekah]

"Um—" Crow said, but at the thought of leaving her waiting, at the thought of putting her out, he neglected to mention his own discomfort, and just said, "That's fine, really—"

But the look on his face didn't seem fine—he was struggling with mild terror as he buckled the helmet in place and put the visor down and climbed onto the back. His hands searched for the best way to hold her, finally settling on curling around her stomach. His t-shirt didn't hide his supple muscles against her back, or the fact that he was trembling slightly.

"Go ahead," he said, kind of sounding like the way a man said, "Just shoot," when someone had a gun on him.

 

[mothMINDLESS]

She watched him blankly. He was stiff and hesitant, with lagging movements and a nervous stutter in tone. His approach was laced with a unique laze; a type of sluggishness bearing evidence to his true feelings. Any observer at all, anyone with good eyes, would notice his discomfort and act accordingly. It was clear this was far from Crow's neck of the woods.

But perhaps she just hadn't noticed. Her expression remained unchanged. Her body still, as if she weren't even breathing. The bike shook as Crow climbed aboard—but that was all.

"I'll be gentle. Just hold on," was the biker's reply. Without further ado, Hope revved her engine and kicked off. Her trusty bike responded with a metallic roar as life powered through it, the energy directed to its motor and pushing its wheels to press onward... and onward, onto the streets of their little city. Rushing lights passed by like an ocean. Even at such a late time, their busy slice of the planet always seemed to have its everyday workers and citizens milling about. But they were like blurs. Hope seemed to be honest; she was keeping the ride quite smooth, but with such little traffic on the roads... she didn't seem to find any harm in keeping at a fast speed.

Eventually, they'd end up in the residential district. From cleaner streets to rougher houses made of concrete. Tall buildings began to blot out the sky with a type of gloom settled over the area. Hope took a turn at an intersection, speeding closer to a set of buildings near a brightly lit cornerstore. She ducked into the parking lot and slowly pulled her bike to an empty spot. The ride, fast yet rather controlled, came to a steady end.

... The bartender turned her motorcycle off and turned her head back to Crow, a gentle smile gracing her features. "Held up well? We're here. My flat's up in that building there, just a few flights of stairs away."