Post by Ana Somnia on Jun 1, 2020 13:51:11 GMT -5
II.
ALEKSEI HOUSE.
MIAMI, FLORIDA.
MONDAY, MAY 25th.
10:04 p.m.
ALEKSEI HOUSE.
MIAMI, FLORIDA.
MONDAY, MAY 25th.
10:04 p.m.
It is late in the evening this Monday night in Miami, Florida. The sun is long gone and the city’s vibrant nightlife has surfaced in throngs, commandeering the streets and flooding the night sky with their raucous din. On the outskirts of this spirited horde congregating to worship at the altar of debauchery stands an intermediately sized building with stained glass windows and a heavy door beneath a large green sign reading ALEKSEI HOUSE. Tonight, one would find, through the door and inside the bar, a smaller crowd than even two blocks away might possess. The patrons predominantly fill in the booths lining the far wall across from the bar, though two men and a woman sit fairly spaced out at the bar itself. In the back, past the pool tables, spans an averaged-sized floor space, presumably for dancing when the bar is busy, though tonight it is barren. The woman seated at the bar wears a black bodycon halter dress and gladiator heels, but it is the expression she wears upon her sultry visage that serves as the most salient piece of her attire. Her brow is lightly furrowed, her eyes glued to the nearly empty glass of alcohol before her, and her lips are pressed together as if she were biting her tongue. With her artificially fair hair gracefully flowing straightened and just past her shoulders, Anastasia Westen pulls the glass to her arterial red lips and polishes off what remains. Once she has done so, she slowly slides the lipstick-stained empty glass forward and nods to the bartender. A tall woman with a prominent jawline approaches from behind the bar and pulls a large bottle of expensive vodka down from the shelf, prying it open to refill the glass. After pouring the glass halfway full she goes to close the bottle and return it to its home on the shelf, but Westen stops her before she can do so.
“Leave the bottle, ‘Leks.”
The bartender nods and chuckles softly before pouring a shot for herself. She takes the shot and then rests her elbows on the bar, leaning forward to converse more comfortably with Westen, a friend of over a year now.
“Rough weekend?”
“You could say that.”
“I had to work so I wasn’t able to catch the show last night. Guessing it didn’t work out so well?”
“Ain’t come close to workin’ out so well. Sad part is that… That ain’t even the problem right now.”
“You and Sara fighting again?”
Taking Westen’s silence as an answer in and of itself, Aleksei takes the bottle of vodka Ana had asked her to leave and places it back on the shelf to the Dallas native’s chagrin. Westen frowns and prepares to question the action, but before she can Aleksei turns back around with stronger, more expensive vodka and places the bottle down.
“How bad was the fight? Something you’re gonna’ be able to come back from?”
“You’d have to ask Dani.”
After expressing this matter-of-fact sentiment, Westen finishes her glass and refills it with the new vodka, filling it just above the three-quarters mark. The humming of the liquid caressing the glass permeates the air, a sound Ana finds quite cathartic. She looks down at the vodka as it settles into the glass before flicking her mint green eyes up to Aleksei.
“I… I think I mighta’ fucked up.”
“You cheat on her?”
“No.”
“Get too drunk and hit her or something?”
“No. She’d probably like that anyway.”
Aleksei chuckles quietly as the door opens and new patrons, to whom she offers a welcoming nod, enter the building. Most of them saunter over to a group in one of the booths as the bartender and owner turns her attention back to Ana.
“Then I don’t think it’s anything you two can’t come back from, мой друг. You talked to her?”
“Not since she took her дерьмо and moved out.”
“She’ll be back. I guess you could say I’ve got a gut feeling about it.”
“How can ya’ be so sure?”
“Because she’s standin’ right behind ya’.”
The voice of Sara Daniels crawls up Westen’s back and plays upon her like music to her ears. Ana turns with disbelief and finds none other than the blonde topic of her conversation with Aleksei. Daniels wears her hair braided as if she were about to climb into the octagon as well as a black pair of wet-look leggings, black boots, a platinum crop top, and a black leather jacket to consummate her ensemble. Before Westen can pick her jaw up off of the floor, Sara takes a seat beside her and gestures with her eyebrows to Ana’s glass, prompting Aleksei to return with a glass for Daniels as well, pouring the newer bottle of vodka into it.
“Thanks, ‘Leks.”
Aleksei saunters off to converse with other patrons, leaving Ana and Sara to look into one another’s eyes with a slight air of unease. Cocking her head back, Sara chugs down every last drop of her glass with reckless abandon without removing her gaze from the bruises on Ana’s face, though her makeup does a fairly decent job of concealing it.
“Wasn’t expectin’ to see you tonight, Dani… Not that I ain’t happy to; because I’m happier than you could possibly know right now.”
“I… I wasn’t plannin’ on comin’. But I just ain’t like the idea of you sittin’ here drinkin’ alone after what happened last night in Austin.”
“You saw?”
Ana finds herself feeling almost short of breath as she turns from her girlfriend and looks back into her glass before finishing her glass as well. She refills both her own glass and that of Daniels before Sara responds.
“I did. No matter what’s goin’ on with us, you’d have to be batshit crazy to think I wasn’t gonna’ tune in to watch ya’ beat the ever-livin’ shit outta’ that stupid cunt.”
“An’ instead you got to watch her beat the ‘ever-livin’ shit’ outta’ me. I ain’t… Ain’t gonna’ be offended if that cheered ya’ up some.”
“Nah. If I’m gonna’ enjoy anyone beatin’ your ass it would be me. You gotta’ know that by now.”
“Yeah.”
Westen’s sheepish concession is not nearly enough for Sara, whose brow furrows at the crestfallen demeanor in Ana. She had never seen her this way before and immediately grows concerned.
“Where’s your head at right now? Seems like ya’ might as well be a thousand miles away.”
“Lot on my mind. I’ve spent all weekend thinkin’ ‘bout you, ‘bout us, so seein’ you like this, it’s… It’s kinda’ jarrin’. But I ain’t complainin’, Dani, believe me. I’ve been waitin’ to see your face again, to hear your voice again ever since you left. I wouldn’t trade this for anythin’ right now.”
“Not even for a win over Hayley last night?”
“Я серьезно, Dani.”
Daniels nods her head as she contemplates the surprising sentiments expressed by the woman many know as the Bitch Incarnate. After taking a large swig of her vodka, Sara turns in her chair and narrows her eyes at Ana, whose attention remains on the vodka in her own glass. By the time Westen takes a swig of her own, Daniels notices two figures approaching them from the far side of Ana. Two men, each lightly bearded, strut into Westen’s peripheral wearing plaid shirts with the sleeves rolled to their elbows and jeans, and the first leans against the bar with one elbow while the other stands slightly behind Ana’s seat and somewhat off to the side.
“Evening, ladies. Whatcha’ drinking tonight?”
“Keep walkin’,” instructs Ana without even looking at them. “We ain’t interested.”
“Oh come on, don’t be like that! We’re just trying to have some fun and the two of you look like you could use some.”
“You heard her. Keep fuckin’ walkin’.”
“Alright alright… Don’t have to be such bitches about it.”
Just as the man lifts his elbow from the bar, Ana’s left hand shoots out and grabs him by his collar, yanking him face-first into the bar and holding him there with great force as she slowly turns her head to face him for the first time.
“Wanna’ try that again? You’re interruptin’ a conversation you ain’t receive an invitation to join. We told ya’ twice to keep walkin’, член креветок, so if anyone here is bein’ a bitch, it most certainly ain’t us.”
She releases his collar and the guy stands up, huffing and puffing for a moment. When his friend taps his arm to show him that the entire bar is staring at them including the bartender, he shakes his head and mutters to himself as both men depart with their tails tucked between their legs. Westen turns back toward Sara and tilts her head slightly to the side while pursing her lips as if to apologize for the interruption.
“Where were we?”
“Not tradin’ this for anythin’, even a win over Hayley.”
“I lost, Dani. No point in spendin’ my time thinkin’ on somethin’ I can’t change, an’ I damn sure ain’t gonna’ sit here in denial about it. An’ sittin’ here, talkin’ to you? It… I missed you, Daniels.”
Sara squares herself back to the bar for a moment, peering down into her glass as if contemplating whether or not to say what she has in mind.
“Surprised you’re not tryin’ to blame me for the loss, tryin’ to say you would’ve won if you weren’t so preoccupied thinkin’ ‘bout what’s been goin’ on with us.”
“I ain’t got any excuses. I ain’t got anyone to blame but myself.”
Daniels furrows her brow and turns back to her glass, wrapping both hands around it as her forearms rest on the edge of the bar itself. Ana reaches out and affectionately places her hand on Sara’s.
“I—”
Before Ana can even begin her second syllable Daniels pulls her hand from beneath Ana’s and rises to her feet, nearly knocking the chair upon which she had sat over in the process. Westen grimaces as she turns to look up at Sara, who adjusts her jacket and sighs.
“I’m sorry… I can’t… I thought that I…” She buries her face in one of her hands and massages her temples to alleviate some of the emotional stress mounting in her muscles. “I just need more time. I’m sorry.”
With this, Daniels turns and struts to the door. She peers back at the demoralized Westen for the briefest of moments before her own face twists into sadness and she must push through the door out into the night air to avoid becoming emotional. Ana watches Sara leave before turning back to her glass. Raucous laughter erupts from the group in which the two men who had hit on them now reside, causing Ana to glance uneasily over at them before diving back into her vodka. Whatever Ana is looking for, she hopes to find it at the bottom of this bottle.
“Leave the bottle, ‘Leks.”
The bartender nods and chuckles softly before pouring a shot for herself. She takes the shot and then rests her elbows on the bar, leaning forward to converse more comfortably with Westen, a friend of over a year now.
“Rough weekend?”
“You could say that.”
“I had to work so I wasn’t able to catch the show last night. Guessing it didn’t work out so well?”
“Ain’t come close to workin’ out so well. Sad part is that… That ain’t even the problem right now.”
“You and Sara fighting again?”
Taking Westen’s silence as an answer in and of itself, Aleksei takes the bottle of vodka Ana had asked her to leave and places it back on the shelf to the Dallas native’s chagrin. Westen frowns and prepares to question the action, but before she can Aleksei turns back around with stronger, more expensive vodka and places the bottle down.
“How bad was the fight? Something you’re gonna’ be able to come back from?”
“You’d have to ask Dani.”
After expressing this matter-of-fact sentiment, Westen finishes her glass and refills it with the new vodka, filling it just above the three-quarters mark. The humming of the liquid caressing the glass permeates the air, a sound Ana finds quite cathartic. She looks down at the vodka as it settles into the glass before flicking her mint green eyes up to Aleksei.
“I… I think I mighta’ fucked up.”
“You cheat on her?”
“No.”
“Get too drunk and hit her or something?”
“No. She’d probably like that anyway.”
Aleksei chuckles quietly as the door opens and new patrons, to whom she offers a welcoming nod, enter the building. Most of them saunter over to a group in one of the booths as the bartender and owner turns her attention back to Ana.
“Then I don’t think it’s anything you two can’t come back from, мой друг. You talked to her?”
“Not since she took her дерьмо and moved out.”
“She’ll be back. I guess you could say I’ve got a gut feeling about it.”
“How can ya’ be so sure?”
“Because she’s standin’ right behind ya’.”
The voice of Sara Daniels crawls up Westen’s back and plays upon her like music to her ears. Ana turns with disbelief and finds none other than the blonde topic of her conversation with Aleksei. Daniels wears her hair braided as if she were about to climb into the octagon as well as a black pair of wet-look leggings, black boots, a platinum crop top, and a black leather jacket to consummate her ensemble. Before Westen can pick her jaw up off of the floor, Sara takes a seat beside her and gestures with her eyebrows to Ana’s glass, prompting Aleksei to return with a glass for Daniels as well, pouring the newer bottle of vodka into it.
“Thanks, ‘Leks.”
Aleksei saunters off to converse with other patrons, leaving Ana and Sara to look into one another’s eyes with a slight air of unease. Cocking her head back, Sara chugs down every last drop of her glass with reckless abandon without removing her gaze from the bruises on Ana’s face, though her makeup does a fairly decent job of concealing it.
“Wasn’t expectin’ to see you tonight, Dani… Not that I ain’t happy to; because I’m happier than you could possibly know right now.”
“I… I wasn’t plannin’ on comin’. But I just ain’t like the idea of you sittin’ here drinkin’ alone after what happened last night in Austin.”
“You saw?”
Ana finds herself feeling almost short of breath as she turns from her girlfriend and looks back into her glass before finishing her glass as well. She refills both her own glass and that of Daniels before Sara responds.
“I did. No matter what’s goin’ on with us, you’d have to be batshit crazy to think I wasn’t gonna’ tune in to watch ya’ beat the ever-livin’ shit outta’ that stupid cunt.”
“An’ instead you got to watch her beat the ‘ever-livin’ shit’ outta’ me. I ain’t… Ain’t gonna’ be offended if that cheered ya’ up some.”
“Nah. If I’m gonna’ enjoy anyone beatin’ your ass it would be me. You gotta’ know that by now.”
“Yeah.”
Westen’s sheepish concession is not nearly enough for Sara, whose brow furrows at the crestfallen demeanor in Ana. She had never seen her this way before and immediately grows concerned.
“Where’s your head at right now? Seems like ya’ might as well be a thousand miles away.”
“Lot on my mind. I’ve spent all weekend thinkin’ ‘bout you, ‘bout us, so seein’ you like this, it’s… It’s kinda’ jarrin’. But I ain’t complainin’, Dani, believe me. I’ve been waitin’ to see your face again, to hear your voice again ever since you left. I wouldn’t trade this for anythin’ right now.”
“Not even for a win over Hayley last night?”
“Я серьезно, Dani.”
Daniels nods her head as she contemplates the surprising sentiments expressed by the woman many know as the Bitch Incarnate. After taking a large swig of her vodka, Sara turns in her chair and narrows her eyes at Ana, whose attention remains on the vodka in her own glass. By the time Westen takes a swig of her own, Daniels notices two figures approaching them from the far side of Ana. Two men, each lightly bearded, strut into Westen’s peripheral wearing plaid shirts with the sleeves rolled to their elbows and jeans, and the first leans against the bar with one elbow while the other stands slightly behind Ana’s seat and somewhat off to the side.
“Evening, ladies. Whatcha’ drinking tonight?”
“Keep walkin’,” instructs Ana without even looking at them. “We ain’t interested.”
“Oh come on, don’t be like that! We’re just trying to have some fun and the two of you look like you could use some.”
“You heard her. Keep fuckin’ walkin’.”
“Alright alright… Don’t have to be such bitches about it.”
Just as the man lifts his elbow from the bar, Ana’s left hand shoots out and grabs him by his collar, yanking him face-first into the bar and holding him there with great force as she slowly turns her head to face him for the first time.
“Wanna’ try that again? You’re interruptin’ a conversation you ain’t receive an invitation to join. We told ya’ twice to keep walkin’, член креветок, so if anyone here is bein’ a bitch, it most certainly ain’t us.”
She releases his collar and the guy stands up, huffing and puffing for a moment. When his friend taps his arm to show him that the entire bar is staring at them including the bartender, he shakes his head and mutters to himself as both men depart with their tails tucked between their legs. Westen turns back toward Sara and tilts her head slightly to the side while pursing her lips as if to apologize for the interruption.
“Where were we?”
“Not tradin’ this for anythin’, even a win over Hayley.”
“I lost, Dani. No point in spendin’ my time thinkin’ on somethin’ I can’t change, an’ I damn sure ain’t gonna’ sit here in denial about it. An’ sittin’ here, talkin’ to you? It… I missed you, Daniels.”
Sara squares herself back to the bar for a moment, peering down into her glass as if contemplating whether or not to say what she has in mind.
“Surprised you’re not tryin’ to blame me for the loss, tryin’ to say you would’ve won if you weren’t so preoccupied thinkin’ ‘bout what’s been goin’ on with us.”
“I ain’t got any excuses. I ain’t got anyone to blame but myself.”
Daniels furrows her brow and turns back to her glass, wrapping both hands around it as her forearms rest on the edge of the bar itself. Ana reaches out and affectionately places her hand on Sara’s.
“I—”
Before Ana can even begin her second syllable Daniels pulls her hand from beneath Ana’s and rises to her feet, nearly knocking the chair upon which she had sat over in the process. Westen grimaces as she turns to look up at Sara, who adjusts her jacket and sighs.
“I’m sorry… I can’t… I thought that I…” She buries her face in one of her hands and massages her temples to alleviate some of the emotional stress mounting in her muscles. “I just need more time. I’m sorry.”
With this, Daniels turns and struts to the door. She peers back at the demoralized Westen for the briefest of moments before her own face twists into sadness and she must push through the door out into the night air to avoid becoming emotional. Ana watches Sara leave before turning back to her glass. Raucous laughter erupts from the group in which the two men who had hit on them now reside, causing Ana to glance uneasily over at them before diving back into her vodka. Whatever Ana is looking for, she hopes to find it at the bottom of this bottle.