Captain Uni
Sick Ducker
Ezekiel
DocTachyon
Antlers
Eddie Brock
Pirouette
Supermaxx
Natty
Eve; featuring Sienna Mercer @Melissa
Death and all her Friends - VI Truth for a Truth
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The Velvet Room at night. Home to the who’s who of the Lantern District and a few more, usually. All whipped up like frosting into a nice frenzy and those who had more than a dime rattling in a purse could choose a song, and as Eve strode in, her pick for the ambiance was Depeche Mode. Brooding, dark, and a thrumming bass that she felt through the floor as it kicked in. A pair of practical, split toe flats for the evening – after having lost a Versace already this week, she wasn’t in the mood for risk and her plans for further recklessness later needed something for a getaway.
The skin she had on display shimmered under the atmospheric lighting; a buzzy red that contrasted the darker corners and reflected back from the mirrors set about the place. Bad decisions were born here.
She shoved shoulders with a man on his way out who seemed satisfied with himself over something; a smugness in his eyes and the slightest curling against the corners of his mouth. Eve worked her way through his trail to find her way to an empty chair that still held the warmth of his time sat in it. Her eyes tracked the place for anyone of interest, anyone who might help her to shed some energy, anyone who might give her some attention for a song or two on the dancefloor, or failing that, something that would take her mind elsewhere. Her mind wandered with distraction to earlier in the day and skimmed over everyone else and she settled on reading the menu instead. The owner was around, as she often was, and Eve knew very little about her but while she waited for the woman to take her order she took a careful and measured look at her face; heart-shaped and soft, normally her expression was broad and bright, sexy eyes and a smile that pulled more definition to her cheekbones when she wore it, and she often did, and even though tonight it was less so, she was still offensively hot. Had something pissed her off?
“Don’t suppose you’d make me a Sazerac? Feel like getting into all kinds of shit tonight.” ᴬᵇˢⁱⁿᵗʰᵉ? ᴿᵉᵃˡˡʸ?
Sienna had been midway through straightening the bottles along the back shelf so their labels were facing outward when someone dropped into the seat that had only just gone cold - and for half a second, before her face caught up with the rest of her, she felt something close to relief at the interruption. Anything that wasn’t replaying the last conversation she’d had in this exact spot.
She knew her face - not just from the bar, but from the particular currency of names and lineages that moved through rooms like hers whether or not their owners ever sat at the counter. Eve Raciti-Seeley. Silvio’s girl - the kind of name that came with its own weather system, the sort of family connection that made people in certain rooms straighten their posture without quite knowing why.
The brunette had served her before, many times actually, but she couldn’t remember actually having a conversation with her that wasn’t surface level. Maybe, this opening was meant to be, in a way.
“A Sazerac,” she repeated, already reaching for the whiskey in the well. “I can do that.”
Sienna worked with the same precision she brought to everything, the faint, familiar ritual of it a welcome distraction from what had just occurred. She built the drink properly - the absinthe rinse, the bitters, the long twist of lemon peel expressed over the glass rather than dropped in - and set it down with the kind of care that wasn’t strictly necessary but had become a habit regardless.
“Rough night?” she asked, mostly to redirect the conversation away from her own face rather than out of any real need to know. “If you’re feeling like finding trouble, this is usually the place for it.”
“I don’t need to feel like it,” Eve answered, taking the glass into her hand and taking a sip to taste first. “Finds me or I find it usually.” The flavour of the anise bloomed over her tongue and she took another sip. She smiled a little. “Besides, the right kind of trouble in the right amount… Well doesn’t that just make things more fun? So no, not a rough night.” ןnɟǝɹɐɔ ǝq 'ʞuıɹp ƃuoɹʇs ɐ s,ʇɐɥꓕShe let the glass sit on the bar in front of her and crossed one leg over the other to take a glance out across the room; bodies becoming darker under the red lighting, their contrast playing in the spaces until they were a blur together and then she returned her gaze to Sienna with a glint of mischief in her eyes. Sienna didn’t want to talk about it, that was clear.
“Who do you think out there will find the most trouble tonight?” Eve smirked. “My money is on the specsy gent at the corner table…” ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ᵍᵒ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁿᵉʳᵈ?
Sienna followed Eve’s gaze out across the room, genuinely considering the question - a welcome one, for a change. The gentleman with the glasses had potential, she’d give Eve that. There was something in the way he kept checking his phone and then deliberately not checking it that suggested a man working up the nerve to do something he hadn’t fully thought through.
But she’d been watching this room for years. She had her own candidates.
“Tempting,” she said, “but no.” She nodded subtly toward a booth near the far wall, where a woman in green was leaning in just a fraction too close to a man who was definitely not the date she’d arrived with. “Her. She’s been making eyes at someone else’s table for twenty minutes, and her actual date just ordered her a second drink without asking if she wanted one. That’s not going to end quietly.” She picked up a cloth, more out of habit than necessity, and let herself enjoy the small, simple pleasure of being right about something for once tonight.
“Care to make it interesting?” she said, setting the cloth aside. “Whoever’s pick causes the first scene buys the next round.”
“I’ll take that bet…” Eve answered with a smirk, half-inclined to cheat her way to the win by nudging her guy a way forward. She was feeling in good spirits with her spirits and spirit so something in good faith would be fine for once. “Disappointed it won’t be me making the scene myself, but I’ll respect your patrons for tonight.” She watched Mr Specs and tilted her head just so, her mind wandering to wonder many things about him; what would happen if she airdropped him a selfie? – would he find her attractive? Was Sienna more his type? ᵀʰᵃᵗ ⁿᵉʳᵈ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵍᵒ ᶠᵒʳ ᵉⁱᵗʰᵉʳ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘ. She looked back at Sienna then while in her thought trail. She was beautiful in a carefree, could, and would, kick your ass way. ᴵ'ᵈ ʰᵃᵖᵖⁱˡʸ ˡᵉᵗ ʰᵉʳ ᵏⁱᶜᵏ ᵐʸ ᵃˢˢ. She was self-assured; a woman with her own successful business and the freedom that it allowed her and she wore it well.
Airdropping a snap would be exactly the kind of cheating she was looking to avoid, fun as it would be. She sipped from her drink instead, letting the peel soak into the liquid and get perfumed by it in the glass. “Do you think he’s hot?” ᵀʰᵉ ᵍᵘʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ ⁿᵃʳᶜ! She asked Sienna. “Wait, no,” she continued, raising a finger to the air. “Do you think he’s hotter with or without his glasses?”
Sienna considered the question with far more seriousness than it deserved, which felt, in its own way, like a small kindness she was doing herself. She studied the man properly now rather than the half-glance she'd given him earlier, the dark curl of his hair and tanned skin.
“I’d say without,” She replied decisively, tilting her head as she continued to inspect his features. “He has a nice face but his frames are definitely a little too thick.”
She let her gaze drift back toward him, considering, and then - almost without deciding to - let the smallest, gentlest tug settle over the bridge of his nose. His glasses slid forward and dropped neatly into the table. He blinked, startled, before sliding them back into place with the particular fluster of a man who had no idea why gravity had just taken a sudden interest in his evening. The brunette smirked, turning her attention back to Eve, acting as if it was kismet.
“I change my mind. I like him better with them on.”
Eve’s head had tilted slowly as the scene unfolded and she took him all in too. Humming in agreement with Sienna. ”He’s so serious and surly with them on. I like it,” she bit her lip for a brief second before chuckling. She hadn’t noticed at all the push and pull that had come from Sienna’s hand.
She had wanted to say something else, a tidbit about her day – an unusual overshare, but her attention snapped to the woman who had been Sienna’s mark, at a very distinct eye roll as she took the drink from her date. ”Ooooh…” she began. ”Your girl is on the move.” She wished there was some popcorn. Now seemed like quite the time for popcorn. ”You might be a winner tonight…”
The brunette smirked, satisfied with her prospect, reinforcing her innate ability to read a room. The couple sitting next to Eve departed, leaving her to wipe off their section of the bar with her cloth, working in small, rhythmic circles. She silently hoped the seats would remain empty for just a moment, a brief reprieve.
“So, what brings you to my part of town this evening?” She asked, making small talk. “I highly doubt it’s to place bets and people watch.”
”Weird night, met a weird guy,” she answered with an honest nonchalance. ”And I wanted to take the edge off before tonight, maybe dance, maybe pocket something stronger.” Eve knew that Sienna wasn’t the type to judge, she’d seen it all, and the playful glint in Eve’s eye would be nothing to her. ”Dutch courage for later, even.” She gave a slight smile. ”Bets and people watching are a bonus.”
Sienna's hands stilled on the cloth for half a second before she caught herself and kept moving.
"Weird guy," she repeated, with a small, dry laugh that came out more honest than she intended. "Funny. I think I might have had one of those myself tonight." She didn't elaborate; some things were easier left as a passing comment than an actual conversation, and tonight had given her quite enough of the latter already.
"Yours sounds like it might've been the better story," she replied instead, reaching for the bottle to top off a glass nobody had asked her to. "Mine mostly just left a bad taste." She set the bottle down, the corner of her mouth lifting, easier now.
"What was wrong with yours?"
”Nothing wrong really… He had some interesting… baggage,” was the easiest way to put it. She didn’t want to out him or herself, not that she thought Sienna would care. Maybe it would be freeing. ˙ʇǝǝʍs ʎɹǝʌ sɐʍ ǝɥ ɥO Eve turned the glass around in her hand again, taking another sip, thinking back to the way Qing’s energy had felt in her space, that frayed and incomplete piece of a death relay that had attached to him, but she herself couldn’t get to. Frozen in time and held within him. She shrugged, ”and he was just a talker. Like, just yapping. Yap yap yap.” She opened and closed her hand like a puppet.
”Yours does sound worse…” Eve added, looking up at Sienna, the penny was beginning to drop that this was probably the pissed off feeling she’d stepped into earlier. ˙˙˙dǝʇsɹǝʌo ʇ,uoꓷ ”Maybe you don’t have to see him again though.” it wasn’t really a question, but the intonation of her words suggested it as one.
“Maybe,” Sienna stated, hesitant.
The pause that followed lasted a beat too long to be casual, her hands going still on the bar, her gaze drifting somewhere past Eve’s shoulder toward the door the man had walked out of less than ten minutes ago. Something in her expression shifted, briefly, into a stillness that had nothing playful left in it at all.
Then she blinked, and it was gone, tucked back wherever she kept the things she didn’t intend to discuss.
“I wish,” she expressed, lighter now, reaching for the cloth again though the bar in front of her was already spotless. “Unfortunately I don’t think I get to decide that.” She glanced back up at Eve, the easy almost-smile returning, though it took slightly more effort to arrange than it had a few minutes ago.
“Anyway.” She set the cloth aside, realizing she was just trying to keep her hands busy. “You were saying he was a talker.”
Eve drank down the last of the cocktail; whatever door had been ajar to Sienna’s psyche had been firmly closed. ”Mmhmm,” she uttered with a gulp. ”Was his job, I guess. To talk me through all the… Fixable things in my apartment. I should have felt like I was talked at, but… He actually seemed to want to help me out. Now I’m just talking at you about it.” She sighed and almost smiled. ”Anyway, him and his particular baggage has gotten all in my head… His baggage and his stupid gorgeous eyes. Uomo molto bello… Not the kind of distraction I need in my life right now, or ever, really.”
Sienna laughed, low and genuine, the first real one of the night.
“Stupid gorgeous eyes will do that,” she empathized, reaching for a fresh glass rather than refilling the one Eve had just finished. “Especially the blue ones. Those are the worst kind of distraction.”
She caught herself half a beat too late, the specificity of it hanging there longer than she meant it to, and busied her hands with the bottles in front of her rather than examine why she’d said it at all.
The brunette worked quickly, swapping the rye for cognac, easing back on the absinthe rinse, finishing it the same way - the long twist of lemon peel expressed over the glass rather than dropped in. Softer around the edges, the kind of drink she made for people who wanted something familiar.
“Sazerac’s cousin,” she explained, setting it down in front of Eve. “Try that instead. Sometimes the thing you don’t think you want is exactly the thing you need.”
She didn’t say anything else. She simply held Eve’s gaze for a beat, letting the comment do whatever quiet work it was going to do, and reached for the next order.
Under the advice of Sienna, Eve took a taste; raising her eyebrow and shooting an impressed smirk over the rim of the glass. Approved. It hadn’t been all that she’d inferred, though, had it? ”Blue eyes, brown eyes, green eyes… Not a one quite as sexy as our gentleman over there though, right?” she said. ”You make a good drink,” she added. ”Like you should make a living out of it or something.”
There was quiet for a moment, and Eve gave a short laugh. ”You know what? Now I’m just annoyed –” she sighed, a larger sip followed. ”We failed the bechdel test because of those fucking guys.” She rolled her eyes. ”Like it’s not enough they burst into our homes and bars and dangle their baggage around, or try to spin us a fair deal, or they leave a bad taste around. They make it so that when we talk about it, they get to define our very innocent, drink time conversations!”
She blinked a few times and looked at her glass. ”See that was the cognac talking. She pipes up fast.”
Sienna laughed - properly this time, the kind that came up from somewhere real rather than the practiced warmth she usually offered across the bar. She set down the bottle in her hand, giving herself fully over to the moment for once, rather than half-managing it the way she managed everything else tonight.
"God, you're right," she replied, shaking her head. "Honestly, the audacity. As if they don't already take up enough space rent-free." She leaned forward against the bar, propping herself up on her forearms, something easier in her posture than there had been all night.
"New rule," she said. "Next round, no men. Not even hypothetically. We talk about literally anything else."
She glanced toward the room, scanning for inspiration, before looking back at Eve with a mischievous glint. "Starting with - tell me something good. Anything. Doesn't have to be true."
She mulled it over. Sure, she could tell a lie and make something up but the best thing she could possibly say was the truth, a truth that sounded too ridiculous to be anything other than a lie and when she thought of it like that, it felt powerful in her pocket. “I'm breaking into a dead woman's apartment tonight,” she confessed. Oh, so we’re really doing this? Nobody else had heard it, that much she knew. Like really doing this? The music and general hum of the evening drowned it out. Even as she said it she felt the space between the two of them close in. She wanted something good, Eve wanted something good in return.
Sienna blinked, genuinely caught off guard for the first time all night - and then, slowly, something like delight spread across her face.
“Well,” she answered, “that’s certainly better than anything I had.”
She studied Eve for a moment, recalibrating, the easy warmth in her expression sharpening into something more curious, more genuinely interested. A dead woman’s apartment. Said so plainly, so unbothered, like it was simply the evening’s agenda rather than something most people would spend hours working up the nerve to confess.
“I’m not going to ask why,” she said, “because I have a feeling the why is the least interesting part.” She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice, though there was nothing stealthy in it - more the conspiratorial register of two people who’d just recognized something familiar in each other. “But I will say, for what it’s worth - I’m not exactly in a position to judge anyone’s evening plans.”
She reached for the bottle again, topping off her own glass this time, an unusual thing for her to do mid-shift.
“For what it’s worth,” she added, “I think I like you considerably more than I did ten minutes ago.”
”Give it another ten and you might change your mind,” Eve riffed back. This was nice, she had to admit. To actually connect with someone and be noticed. To notice them too. She meant it only half in jest, but the truth was she would eventually do something offputting but at least for now it was like having a friend, a friend for the moment and that was enough. ”And since I have ten minutes before the good will expires…” She leaned in just a little, glass close to her lips still, but eyes fixed to Sienna. ”Tell me something real, pretty lady.”
A truth for a truth. It was simple enough.
Yet something in Sienna’s throat stalled at the notion of sharing something personal, something real. Her life at The Velvet Room felt like smoke and mirrors half the time. A smile here, a compliment there, a laugh polished smooth enough to catch the light. She was good at giving people exactly enough of herself to make them feel like they'd seen behind the curtain, while the curtain never actually moved.
"Real," she echoed, tasting the word as though it belonged to someone else.
A beat passed between them - not awkward, exactly. Just quiet enough that it asked for honesty instead of demanding it. Sienna's smile faltered, just enough to notice.
"My mom and I..." She paused, searching for words that didn't feel rehearsed. "We love each other." A soft laugh escaped her. "We're just not very good at liking each other all the time."
She watched her thumb circle the condensation on her glass.
"She wanted a different life for me. A steadier one, I think. Something she could explain to people without changing the subject." The joke landed gently before dissolving.
"Every time I see her, I feel like I'm trying to convince her I'm doing okay. Prove I made the right decision opening this place." Her shoulders lifted in a small, helpless shrug. "And every time I leave..." She looked back at Eve, a smile tugging at one corner of her mouth despite itself. "...I wonder if she still thinks she raised a disappointment."
The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable. Sienna took a sip from her drink.
"That’s real."
Eve was quiet as the weight of both of their real truths settled, and all Sienna’s did was unsettle a string of something within Eve that she hadn’t stirred up in some time. The thought of what her own mother would have thought of her were she still alive. sʇɥƃnoɥʇ ǝsoɥʇ ɯoɹɟ ʎɐʍɐ ʎɐʇS I guess we’ll never know. She thought, with an almost callous edge to it and she bit back a comment that rose in her throat, something bitter to throw across the bar, aimed right at Sienna. ʎǝuoɥ ʇɐɥʇ op ʇ,uoꓷ
”Yeah but… Do you feel like you made the right decision?” she asked, with sincerity, having let the bile dissolve. She veered away from trying to dig any deeper, for one reason or another. “This is a pretty great place. You made it great.”
Sienna’s expression shifted at that last line. Not into surprise. Not quite into gratitude either. Something steadier. Pride, quiet but unmistakable. Her hand rested lightly on the polished wood beneath her glass, fingertips brushing the surface like she was reminding herself it was real.
"This place..." she answered, slower now, choosing each word with care, "is probably the only thing in my life I’ve never second-guessed." A small breath of a laugh followed, but it wasn’t self-deprecating this time. "I’ve made bad calls. I’ve walked away from things I probably shouldn’t have. I’ve stayed in things I definitely should’ve left sooner."
Her eyes lifted briefly, meeting Eve’s.
"But this?" A faint gesture around the room- subtle, not showy. "I built this. I fought for this.” There was warmth in her voice now, the kind that didn’t need defending.
"And I’m damn proud of it."
And like hell was anyone going to take it away from her.
“So then who cares what anyone else thinks about it? About you?” Eve had nothing of her own like this and she found herself right back at the start of their conversation all over again; right back in front of her as someone who she thought she should look up to. Her problems seemed so small though and maybe they were and so she chided herself for even going there. The doorway to that side of herself where bitterness and jealousy festered was hanging open and there was a light inside beckoning in her to come in and bathe in it. The fire in the rye was sparking something tonight.
She fidgeted uncomfortably, shuffling just enough that it looked like she was stretching her back from having been sat upright. Eve looked back into the glass, it should have been a slow sip but she drank the rest of it entirely. She had decided she wanted to keep the good will with Sienna. They had been having a nice time. All that fabric – far too flammable. ˙ǝɔıoɥɔ ʇɥƃıɹ ǝɥʇ s,ʇɐɥꓕ “If nothing else, you should be proud of how that drink tasted,” she said, having swallowed it – the strong blend of alcohols working its way through her system; hoping to incite a shudder from her but she remained still.
She eyed the empty glass and then looked back up at Sienna. Not exactly a friend, but maybe something else now. “Well, this apartment isn't going to break into itself and if I drink anymore I'm not going to make it. Dutch courage will become absolute failure.” She stood, all slender now with a slight sway to her posture that would work itself off soon enough. The bass was making the floor shudder again.
“Hey,” she said before she left entirely, “thanks for this. Maybe… Maybe we do this another time.” That felt strange, and yet not horrible.
Maybe it was just that easy, all the time.
Sienna watched her stand, the sway of her posture, the particular quality of someone bracing themselves for something they hadn’t quite admitted to be nervous about.
“Hey,” the brunette said, before Eve could fully turn away. “Be careful tonight.” It came off less like the easy professional concern she offered every departing guest and more like something she actually meant. She studied Eve for a moment, a steadiness in her expression that hadn’t been there before.
“And yeah,” she replied, “Another time. I’d like that.” She picked up the empty glass between them, turning it once in her hand before setting it down in the rack with the other dirty ones.
“You know where to find me,” she added, the corner of her mouth lifting. “I’m not exactly hard to track down.”
The skin she had on display shimmered under the atmospheric lighting; a buzzy red that contrasted the darker corners and reflected back from the mirrors set about the place. Bad decisions were born here.
She shoved shoulders with a man on his way out who seemed satisfied with himself over something; a smugness in his eyes and the slightest curling against the corners of his mouth. Eve worked her way through his trail to find her way to an empty chair that still held the warmth of his time sat in it. Her eyes tracked the place for anyone of interest, anyone who might help her to shed some energy, anyone who might give her some attention for a song or two on the dancefloor, or failing that, something that would take her mind elsewhere. Her mind wandered with distraction to earlier in the day and skimmed over everyone else and she settled on reading the menu instead. The owner was around, as she often was, and Eve knew very little about her but while she waited for the woman to take her order she took a careful and measured look at her face; heart-shaped and soft, normally her expression was broad and bright, sexy eyes and a smile that pulled more definition to her cheekbones when she wore it, and she often did, and even though tonight it was less so, she was still offensively hot. Had something pissed her off?
“Don’t suppose you’d make me a Sazerac? Feel like getting into all kinds of shit tonight.” ᴬᵇˢⁱⁿᵗʰᵉ? ᴿᵉᵃˡˡʸ?
Sienna had been midway through straightening the bottles along the back shelf so their labels were facing outward when someone dropped into the seat that had only just gone cold - and for half a second, before her face caught up with the rest of her, she felt something close to relief at the interruption. Anything that wasn’t replaying the last conversation she’d had in this exact spot.
She knew her face - not just from the bar, but from the particular currency of names and lineages that moved through rooms like hers whether or not their owners ever sat at the counter. Eve Raciti-Seeley. Silvio’s girl - the kind of name that came with its own weather system, the sort of family connection that made people in certain rooms straighten their posture without quite knowing why.
The brunette had served her before, many times actually, but she couldn’t remember actually having a conversation with her that wasn’t surface level. Maybe, this opening was meant to be, in a way.
“A Sazerac,” she repeated, already reaching for the whiskey in the well. “I can do that.”
Sienna worked with the same precision she brought to everything, the faint, familiar ritual of it a welcome distraction from what had just occurred. She built the drink properly - the absinthe rinse, the bitters, the long twist of lemon peel expressed over the glass rather than dropped in - and set it down with the kind of care that wasn’t strictly necessary but had become a habit regardless.
“Rough night?” she asked, mostly to redirect the conversation away from her own face rather than out of any real need to know. “If you’re feeling like finding trouble, this is usually the place for it.”
“I don’t need to feel like it,” Eve answered, taking the glass into her hand and taking a sip to taste first. “Finds me or I find it usually.” The flavour of the anise bloomed over her tongue and she took another sip. She smiled a little. “Besides, the right kind of trouble in the right amount… Well doesn’t that just make things more fun? So no, not a rough night.” ןnɟǝɹɐɔ ǝq 'ʞuıɹp ƃuoɹʇs ɐ s,ʇɐɥꓕShe let the glass sit on the bar in front of her and crossed one leg over the other to take a glance out across the room; bodies becoming darker under the red lighting, their contrast playing in the spaces until they were a blur together and then she returned her gaze to Sienna with a glint of mischief in her eyes. Sienna didn’t want to talk about it, that was clear.
“Who do you think out there will find the most trouble tonight?” Eve smirked. “My money is on the specsy gent at the corner table…” ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ᵍᵒ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁿᵉʳᵈ?
Sienna followed Eve’s gaze out across the room, genuinely considering the question - a welcome one, for a change. The gentleman with the glasses had potential, she’d give Eve that. There was something in the way he kept checking his phone and then deliberately not checking it that suggested a man working up the nerve to do something he hadn’t fully thought through.
But she’d been watching this room for years. She had her own candidates.
“Tempting,” she said, “but no.” She nodded subtly toward a booth near the far wall, where a woman in green was leaning in just a fraction too close to a man who was definitely not the date she’d arrived with. “Her. She’s been making eyes at someone else’s table for twenty minutes, and her actual date just ordered her a second drink without asking if she wanted one. That’s not going to end quietly.” She picked up a cloth, more out of habit than necessity, and let herself enjoy the small, simple pleasure of being right about something for once tonight.
“Care to make it interesting?” she said, setting the cloth aside. “Whoever’s pick causes the first scene buys the next round.”
“I’ll take that bet…” Eve answered with a smirk, half-inclined to cheat her way to the win by nudging her guy a way forward. She was feeling in good spirits with her spirits and spirit so something in good faith would be fine for once. “Disappointed it won’t be me making the scene myself, but I’ll respect your patrons for tonight.” She watched Mr Specs and tilted her head just so, her mind wandering to wonder many things about him; what would happen if she airdropped him a selfie? – would he find her attractive? Was Sienna more his type? ᵀʰᵃᵗ ⁿᵉʳᵈ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵍᵒ ᶠᵒʳ ᵉⁱᵗʰᵉʳ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘ. She looked back at Sienna then while in her thought trail. She was beautiful in a carefree, could, and would, kick your ass way. ᴵ'ᵈ ʰᵃᵖᵖⁱˡʸ ˡᵉᵗ ʰᵉʳ ᵏⁱᶜᵏ ᵐʸ ᵃˢˢ. She was self-assured; a woman with her own successful business and the freedom that it allowed her and she wore it well.
Airdropping a snap would be exactly the kind of cheating she was looking to avoid, fun as it would be. She sipped from her drink instead, letting the peel soak into the liquid and get perfumed by it in the glass. “Do you think he’s hot?” ᵀʰᵉ ᵍᵘʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ ⁿᵃʳᶜ! She asked Sienna. “Wait, no,” she continued, raising a finger to the air. “Do you think he’s hotter with or without his glasses?”
Sienna considered the question with far more seriousness than it deserved, which felt, in its own way, like a small kindness she was doing herself. She studied the man properly now rather than the half-glance she'd given him earlier, the dark curl of his hair and tanned skin.
“I’d say without,” She replied decisively, tilting her head as she continued to inspect his features. “He has a nice face but his frames are definitely a little too thick.”
She let her gaze drift back toward him, considering, and then - almost without deciding to - let the smallest, gentlest tug settle over the bridge of his nose. His glasses slid forward and dropped neatly into the table. He blinked, startled, before sliding them back into place with the particular fluster of a man who had no idea why gravity had just taken a sudden interest in his evening. The brunette smirked, turning her attention back to Eve, acting as if it was kismet.
“I change my mind. I like him better with them on.”
Eve’s head had tilted slowly as the scene unfolded and she took him all in too. Humming in agreement with Sienna. ”He’s so serious and surly with them on. I like it,” she bit her lip for a brief second before chuckling. She hadn’t noticed at all the push and pull that had come from Sienna’s hand.
She had wanted to say something else, a tidbit about her day – an unusual overshare, but her attention snapped to the woman who had been Sienna’s mark, at a very distinct eye roll as she took the drink from her date. ”Ooooh…” she began. ”Your girl is on the move.” She wished there was some popcorn. Now seemed like quite the time for popcorn. ”You might be a winner tonight…”
The brunette smirked, satisfied with her prospect, reinforcing her innate ability to read a room. The couple sitting next to Eve departed, leaving her to wipe off their section of the bar with her cloth, working in small, rhythmic circles. She silently hoped the seats would remain empty for just a moment, a brief reprieve.
“So, what brings you to my part of town this evening?” She asked, making small talk. “I highly doubt it’s to place bets and people watch.”
”Weird night, met a weird guy,” she answered with an honest nonchalance. ”And I wanted to take the edge off before tonight, maybe dance, maybe pocket something stronger.” Eve knew that Sienna wasn’t the type to judge, she’d seen it all, and the playful glint in Eve’s eye would be nothing to her. ”Dutch courage for later, even.” She gave a slight smile. ”Bets and people watching are a bonus.”
Sienna's hands stilled on the cloth for half a second before she caught herself and kept moving.
"Weird guy," she repeated, with a small, dry laugh that came out more honest than she intended. "Funny. I think I might have had one of those myself tonight." She didn't elaborate; some things were easier left as a passing comment than an actual conversation, and tonight had given her quite enough of the latter already.
"Yours sounds like it might've been the better story," she replied instead, reaching for the bottle to top off a glass nobody had asked her to. "Mine mostly just left a bad taste." She set the bottle down, the corner of her mouth lifting, easier now.
"What was wrong with yours?"
”Nothing wrong really… He had some interesting… baggage,” was the easiest way to put it. She didn’t want to out him or herself, not that she thought Sienna would care. Maybe it would be freeing. ˙ʇǝǝʍs ʎɹǝʌ sɐʍ ǝɥ ɥO Eve turned the glass around in her hand again, taking another sip, thinking back to the way Qing’s energy had felt in her space, that frayed and incomplete piece of a death relay that had attached to him, but she herself couldn’t get to. Frozen in time and held within him. She shrugged, ”and he was just a talker. Like, just yapping. Yap yap yap.” She opened and closed her hand like a puppet.
”Yours does sound worse…” Eve added, looking up at Sienna, the penny was beginning to drop that this was probably the pissed off feeling she’d stepped into earlier. ˙˙˙dǝʇsɹǝʌo ʇ,uoꓷ ”Maybe you don’t have to see him again though.” it wasn’t really a question, but the intonation of her words suggested it as one.
“Maybe,” Sienna stated, hesitant.
The pause that followed lasted a beat too long to be casual, her hands going still on the bar, her gaze drifting somewhere past Eve’s shoulder toward the door the man had walked out of less than ten minutes ago. Something in her expression shifted, briefly, into a stillness that had nothing playful left in it at all.
Then she blinked, and it was gone, tucked back wherever she kept the things she didn’t intend to discuss.
“I wish,” she expressed, lighter now, reaching for the cloth again though the bar in front of her was already spotless. “Unfortunately I don’t think I get to decide that.” She glanced back up at Eve, the easy almost-smile returning, though it took slightly more effort to arrange than it had a few minutes ago.
“Anyway.” She set the cloth aside, realizing she was just trying to keep her hands busy. “You were saying he was a talker.”
Eve drank down the last of the cocktail; whatever door had been ajar to Sienna’s psyche had been firmly closed. ”Mmhmm,” she uttered with a gulp. ”Was his job, I guess. To talk me through all the… Fixable things in my apartment. I should have felt like I was talked at, but… He actually seemed to want to help me out. Now I’m just talking at you about it.” She sighed and almost smiled. ”Anyway, him and his particular baggage has gotten all in my head… His baggage and his stupid gorgeous eyes. Uomo molto bello… Not the kind of distraction I need in my life right now, or ever, really.”
Sienna laughed, low and genuine, the first real one of the night.
“Stupid gorgeous eyes will do that,” she empathized, reaching for a fresh glass rather than refilling the one Eve had just finished. “Especially the blue ones. Those are the worst kind of distraction.”
She caught herself half a beat too late, the specificity of it hanging there longer than she meant it to, and busied her hands with the bottles in front of her rather than examine why she’d said it at all.
The brunette worked quickly, swapping the rye for cognac, easing back on the absinthe rinse, finishing it the same way - the long twist of lemon peel expressed over the glass rather than dropped in. Softer around the edges, the kind of drink she made for people who wanted something familiar.
“Sazerac’s cousin,” she explained, setting it down in front of Eve. “Try that instead. Sometimes the thing you don’t think you want is exactly the thing you need.”
She didn’t say anything else. She simply held Eve’s gaze for a beat, letting the comment do whatever quiet work it was going to do, and reached for the next order.
Under the advice of Sienna, Eve took a taste; raising her eyebrow and shooting an impressed smirk over the rim of the glass. Approved. It hadn’t been all that she’d inferred, though, had it? ”Blue eyes, brown eyes, green eyes… Not a one quite as sexy as our gentleman over there though, right?” she said. ”You make a good drink,” she added. ”Like you should make a living out of it or something.”
There was quiet for a moment, and Eve gave a short laugh. ”You know what? Now I’m just annoyed –” she sighed, a larger sip followed. ”We failed the bechdel test because of those fucking guys.” She rolled her eyes. ”Like it’s not enough they burst into our homes and bars and dangle their baggage around, or try to spin us a fair deal, or they leave a bad taste around. They make it so that when we talk about it, they get to define our very innocent, drink time conversations!”
She blinked a few times and looked at her glass. ”See that was the cognac talking. She pipes up fast.”
Sienna laughed - properly this time, the kind that came up from somewhere real rather than the practiced warmth she usually offered across the bar. She set down the bottle in her hand, giving herself fully over to the moment for once, rather than half-managing it the way she managed everything else tonight.
"God, you're right," she replied, shaking her head. "Honestly, the audacity. As if they don't already take up enough space rent-free." She leaned forward against the bar, propping herself up on her forearms, something easier in her posture than there had been all night.
"New rule," she said. "Next round, no men. Not even hypothetically. We talk about literally anything else."
She glanced toward the room, scanning for inspiration, before looking back at Eve with a mischievous glint. "Starting with - tell me something good. Anything. Doesn't have to be true."
She mulled it over. Sure, she could tell a lie and make something up but the best thing she could possibly say was the truth, a truth that sounded too ridiculous to be anything other than a lie and when she thought of it like that, it felt powerful in her pocket. “I'm breaking into a dead woman's apartment tonight,” she confessed. Oh, so we’re really doing this? Nobody else had heard it, that much she knew. Like really doing this? The music and general hum of the evening drowned it out. Even as she said it she felt the space between the two of them close in. She wanted something good, Eve wanted something good in return.
Sienna blinked, genuinely caught off guard for the first time all night - and then, slowly, something like delight spread across her face.
“Well,” she answered, “that’s certainly better than anything I had.”
She studied Eve for a moment, recalibrating, the easy warmth in her expression sharpening into something more curious, more genuinely interested. A dead woman’s apartment. Said so plainly, so unbothered, like it was simply the evening’s agenda rather than something most people would spend hours working up the nerve to confess.
“I’m not going to ask why,” she said, “because I have a feeling the why is the least interesting part.” She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice, though there was nothing stealthy in it - more the conspiratorial register of two people who’d just recognized something familiar in each other. “But I will say, for what it’s worth - I’m not exactly in a position to judge anyone’s evening plans.”
She reached for the bottle again, topping off her own glass this time, an unusual thing for her to do mid-shift.
“For what it’s worth,” she added, “I think I like you considerably more than I did ten minutes ago.”
”Give it another ten and you might change your mind,” Eve riffed back. This was nice, she had to admit. To actually connect with someone and be noticed. To notice them too. She meant it only half in jest, but the truth was she would eventually do something offputting but at least for now it was like having a friend, a friend for the moment and that was enough. ”And since I have ten minutes before the good will expires…” She leaned in just a little, glass close to her lips still, but eyes fixed to Sienna. ”Tell me something real, pretty lady.”
A truth for a truth. It was simple enough.
Yet something in Sienna’s throat stalled at the notion of sharing something personal, something real. Her life at The Velvet Room felt like smoke and mirrors half the time. A smile here, a compliment there, a laugh polished smooth enough to catch the light. She was good at giving people exactly enough of herself to make them feel like they'd seen behind the curtain, while the curtain never actually moved.
"Real," she echoed, tasting the word as though it belonged to someone else.
A beat passed between them - not awkward, exactly. Just quiet enough that it asked for honesty instead of demanding it. Sienna's smile faltered, just enough to notice.
"My mom and I..." She paused, searching for words that didn't feel rehearsed. "We love each other." A soft laugh escaped her. "We're just not very good at liking each other all the time."
She watched her thumb circle the condensation on her glass.
"She wanted a different life for me. A steadier one, I think. Something she could explain to people without changing the subject." The joke landed gently before dissolving.
"Every time I see her, I feel like I'm trying to convince her I'm doing okay. Prove I made the right decision opening this place." Her shoulders lifted in a small, helpless shrug. "And every time I leave..." She looked back at Eve, a smile tugging at one corner of her mouth despite itself. "...I wonder if she still thinks she raised a disappointment."
The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable. Sienna took a sip from her drink.
"That’s real."
Eve was quiet as the weight of both of their real truths settled, and all Sienna’s did was unsettle a string of something within Eve that she hadn’t stirred up in some time. The thought of what her own mother would have thought of her were she still alive. sʇɥƃnoɥʇ ǝsoɥʇ ɯoɹɟ ʎɐʍɐ ʎɐʇS I guess we’ll never know. She thought, with an almost callous edge to it and she bit back a comment that rose in her throat, something bitter to throw across the bar, aimed right at Sienna. ʎǝuoɥ ʇɐɥʇ op ʇ,uoꓷ
”Yeah but… Do you feel like you made the right decision?” she asked, with sincerity, having let the bile dissolve. She veered away from trying to dig any deeper, for one reason or another. “This is a pretty great place. You made it great.”
Sienna’s expression shifted at that last line. Not into surprise. Not quite into gratitude either. Something steadier. Pride, quiet but unmistakable. Her hand rested lightly on the polished wood beneath her glass, fingertips brushing the surface like she was reminding herself it was real.
"This place..." she answered, slower now, choosing each word with care, "is probably the only thing in my life I’ve never second-guessed." A small breath of a laugh followed, but it wasn’t self-deprecating this time. "I’ve made bad calls. I’ve walked away from things I probably shouldn’t have. I’ve stayed in things I definitely should’ve left sooner."
Her eyes lifted briefly, meeting Eve’s.
"But this?" A faint gesture around the room- subtle, not showy. "I built this. I fought for this.” There was warmth in her voice now, the kind that didn’t need defending.
"And I’m damn proud of it."
And like hell was anyone going to take it away from her.
“So then who cares what anyone else thinks about it? About you?” Eve had nothing of her own like this and she found herself right back at the start of their conversation all over again; right back in front of her as someone who she thought she should look up to. Her problems seemed so small though and maybe they were and so she chided herself for even going there. The doorway to that side of herself where bitterness and jealousy festered was hanging open and there was a light inside beckoning in her to come in and bathe in it. The fire in the rye was sparking something tonight.
She fidgeted uncomfortably, shuffling just enough that it looked like she was stretching her back from having been sat upright. Eve looked back into the glass, it should have been a slow sip but she drank the rest of it entirely. She had decided she wanted to keep the good will with Sienna. They had been having a nice time. All that fabric – far too flammable. ˙ǝɔıoɥɔ ʇɥƃıɹ ǝɥʇ s,ʇɐɥꓕ “If nothing else, you should be proud of how that drink tasted,” she said, having swallowed it – the strong blend of alcohols working its way through her system; hoping to incite a shudder from her but she remained still.
She eyed the empty glass and then looked back up at Sienna. Not exactly a friend, but maybe something else now. “Well, this apartment isn't going to break into itself and if I drink anymore I'm not going to make it. Dutch courage will become absolute failure.” She stood, all slender now with a slight sway to her posture that would work itself off soon enough. The bass was making the floor shudder again.
“Hey,” she said before she left entirely, “thanks for this. Maybe… Maybe we do this another time.” That felt strange, and yet not horrible.
Maybe it was just that easy, all the time.
Sienna watched her stand, the sway of her posture, the particular quality of someone bracing themselves for something they hadn’t quite admitted to be nervous about.
“Hey,” the brunette said, before Eve could fully turn away. “Be careful tonight.” It came off less like the easy professional concern she offered every departing guest and more like something she actually meant. She studied Eve for a moment, a steadiness in her expression that hadn’t been there before.
“And yeah,” she replied, “Another time. I’d like that.” She picked up the empty glass between them, turning it once in her hand before setting it down in the rack with the other dirty ones.
“You know where to find me,” she added, the corner of her mouth lifting. “I’m not exactly hard to track down.”
