March 1995

When Lori Bell arrived for her shift at The Flamingo that Friday night, she was still processing everything that had happened over the last few hours. Slowly but surely, her thoughts were gaining some coherence, though it was nothing too notable. At the moment, her brain seemed to be looping one thought over and over again.

It repeated like a broken record: fuck you, Lena.

She pushed the tinted-glass door to the bar open and stepped inside, her wedges making noticable clapping sounds against the linoleum with each purposeful step. Though it was nothing unusual, the brightness of the neon pink lights illuminating the barroom caused her to squint, the burning behind her eyes warning of an oncoming migraine.

Some synthesizer-driven pop song played faintly over the speakers, mere background noise for the early hours of the bar's service. Having worked at The Flamingo for over a year, Lori knew full well that the music would only get louder as the night progressed.

She winced as she made her way into the back of the bar,  hurriedly throwing her purse onto the counter. In a near frantic state, she rifled through the contents of her bag in search of a bottle of aspirin.

After a while, she stopped, ruling her efforts futile. She must have left all of her over-the-counter drugs in the medicine cabinet at she and Lena's apartment. After all, she hadn't quite gotten the chance to gather her things before being thrown out in her ass.

Once again, that spiteful thought came back around. Fuck you, Lena.

For a few moments, Lori found herself gripping the countertops, leaving her head down as though bowed in some sort of silent prayer, — which was a laughable idea, really, considering the type of person she was. Still, she closed her eyes, focusing on taking even breaths and composing herself to the best of her ability.

In the near silence of The Flamingo's shitty excuse for a kitchen, she attempted to convince herself that none of this really mattered.

Sure, it might have felt like it was shaping up to be the worst evening of her life, but it could all be over in the morning.

Maybe Lena would change her mind, if only until Lori got the chance to regain her footing.

Better yet, maybe she would decide that they couldn't live without each other. Lori knew that she was making more money bartending than Lena made being a stupid fucking bag girl. Besides, was it not just the week before when Lena had looked her dead in the eye and proclaimed she was the best she'd ever had?

That thought sent an unexpected pang to Lori's chest.

This time last week, the two of them had literally been intertwined with one another, legs tangled and eyes heavy, relishing the afterglow. Things had seemed so perfect to her then, so wholly uncomplicated, as Lena's laughter fell on her ears like music, making her heart skip a beat.

She felt a sickeningly familiar burn prick at the corners of her eyes, her even breathing beginning to falter.

Fuck you, Lena. I loved you.

The sound of the kitchen doors swinging open broke her from her thoughts. Lori relinquished her hold on the edge of the counter, straightening her spine as she took note of Aaron approaching her.

As always, her manager wore an exuberant grin. Very seldom had she ever seen Aaron upset, — even when the odd fight broke out between a few drunken patrons, he always seemed to maintain his composure and good spirits. She envied him, truly.

"Miss Lori!" he greeted her happily, stretching his sinewy arms out wide in welcome. "Glad to see ya. And how are you this evening?"

For a moment, Lori attempted to formulate a genuine, decent answer. No matter how hard she tried to stop them, however, the tears were still welling up at the bottom of her eyes, threatening to spill over.

Grin slowly fading, Aaron dropped his arms. "Oh, shit. What's the matter?"

Though the threat of tears caused her throat to constrict, Lori was just barely able to choke out an answer to that question. "Lena..."

Her words were interrupted by a sob.

Aaron's frown deepened. "Oh, honey."

He reached for a roll of paper towels, ripping off a generous amount before holding the bunched up wad out as an offering.

Gratefully, she took it, wiping furiously beneath her eyes.

"We broke up," she sniffed, "and she kicked me out. Said I was always a better friend than I was a partner, that I was... too cold, or some shit like that. Not attentive enough or something. Basically that I'm a fucking bitch..."

Aaron reached out one large hand, clapping it against her shoulder. "Hey. Come on, now. We both know that isn't true..."

"But I am!" Lori bunched up the mascara-streaked napkin and attempted to throw it at the garbage can across the room. She missed, leaving the sad ball of brown paper in the middle of the floor. Somehow, this managed to make her mood even worse.

"Now I don't have a place to live!" Lori threw up her hands before beginning to pace the floor. "Stupid fucking Lena... I could kill her, Aaron, really. What the fuck am I supposed to do?"

Aaron crossed his arms in front of his chest, leaning back into the counter. "Well, breathe, for a start."

Begrudgingly, Lori stopped her aimless walking, taking a deep breath in to humor him.

Aaron smiled. "Atta girl. As for the living situation... Well, you know I got an open room at my place. Nobody to bother you but me and the dogs."

She looked up, meeting his eyes. "You really wouldn't mind?"

"Course not. I could give you the key right now, and you could go on back. Get some rest, have the night to get your head together."

Lori shook her head. "Can't," she said decisively. "I've gotta work tonight. I need that money now more than ever."

"Fair enough," Aaron replied. "Might clear your mind to be up and about. Besides..." His grin grew. "We've got a show here tonight. The band should be here any minute."

Despite the building pounding in her head, this possibility piqued her interests. "What kind of band?"

Aaron shrugged. "Some foreign rock outfit," he said. "Don't know how we got ahold of 'em, but they seemed excited to play here. Which is funny, cause they could hit up any other bar in America, but... I'm flattered, nonetheless. Ashtray Heart, I believe they're called."

"Sounds... interesting." Lori dipped back into her bag, retrieving a hair tie as she sniffled once again. She'd done her crying. Now she had to collect herself and get to work. 

She pulled her long dark hair up, sending Aaron a cautious look out of the corner of her eye. "Here's hoping they don't suck."

"We can only hope," Aaron agreed with a chuckle. "Now, chin up, princess. You're at a gay bar. Ain't no place for tears."

🖤

Within an hour, the bar really seemed to be waking up for the evening.

More and more people were filing through the door. The music coming from the stereo grew louder, — Aaron had put on some Cyndi Lauper, a favorite amongst patrons.

People flocked towards the bar in groups, ordering up drinks and the occasional pizza or plate of fries. Dutifully, Lori took their orders, handing their food requests off to Jeffrey the frycook before beginning to mix and shake their beverages.

As the routine of the night came into full swing, she found herself feeling a bit less hopeless, or at least just a little more human. She struck up playful conversations with the bargoers, laughing at their occasional jokes.

The bar became more and more crowded, an hour passing in what seemed to be the blink of an eye.

At half past eight, she noticed her.

Or at least, she thought it was a chick. She couldn't quite be sure.

Whatever the case, her eyes instantly seemed to land on the figure in the short black dress, even from all the way across the room.

A rather slight figure, the person moved with a strange sort of grace about them, some strange sense of dignity coming along with it. A tall man with a shaved head followed close behind, trailing some box on wheels, — containing an instrument of some sort, Lori realized. The band.

The man wandered towards a room at the opposite end of the bar, Aaron following not far behind him, mouth moving a mile a minute as he engaged him in what was surely a thorough conversation. The person in the black dress, however, stayed in the middle of the barroom floor, head tilted up beneath the neon lights. Seemingly observing.

A voice in the back of Lori's mind warned her that she was staring. At this point, though, she wasn't quite sure that she could help it.

There was just something about this person.

Their plump lips, painted a brilliant red. Their eyes, wide and large and lined with dark makeup, turned so curiously upwards. The way that they seemed to be off in their own world, despite all the restless people around them, simply milling around the bar.

Lori wasn't sure quite what it was that drew her in. But she was intrigued.

Suddenly, an unnerving feeling ran up her spine. It was at that moment that she came back to earth and noticed exactly what was happening.

The person in the black dress was looking at her.

She stood behind the bar, frozen like a deer in the highlights. Her throat went dry as cotton as her face burned.

Before she could ruminate on the awkwardness of the situation for two long, she noticed the smile curling up the corners of those ruby lips.

With a strange expression of knowing on their face, the person lifted a cigarette to their mouth, placing it between their teeth and lighting it without ever breaking their gaze from Lori.

After a few puffs, they pulled away, offering her a plume of smoke and a sly smile before they turned around, following behind Aaron and the other man.

🖤

When the band came onstage and the black dress person began to sing, Lori figured out relatively quickly that she had miscalculated the chick thing.

This fact did nothing to disrupt her fascination, of course.

So, it was a guy. A pretty guy, with kohl-lined doe eyes and a cherry-colored mouth and seemingly boundless energy. He stood inches away from the microphone, leaning in close enough to it for Lori to imagine it was some lover instead every time his lips came close to brushing against it.

She watched him as she idly wiped the inside of a newly-cleaned glass, transfixed.

There was no use in the feeling that was stirring in the pit of her stomach. Surely, it was simply a side effect of the fact that Lena wouldn't be waiting in bed to welcome her home with her own pretty mouth that evening.

Besides, they were at The Flamingo, and he was dressed in drag, and he was singing about men. The attraction couldn't be any more misplaced.

But then his eyes seemed to wander right back towards her, and she had to wonder as she absorbed the next coy line.

Does his makeup in his room, doused himself in cheap perfume, eye-holes in a paper bag...

He was grinning again, gaze seemingly focused on Lori as if she were the bullseye at the center of a dartboard.

Greatest lay I've ever had.

Lori tore her eyes away, looking back down at the glass in her shaking hands.

🖤

All too quickly, the show comes to an end. The frontman leaned into the microphone, smiling proudly as he bid adieu to the slowly-applauding patrons.

"Thank you," he said, voice laced with an accent Lori couldn't quite put her finger on. "We're Ashtray Heart, and we've had an excellent time with all of you tonight. Thanks again, Flamingo."

With that, the lights went down, the dark swallowing him whole.

🖤

"Jesus Christ, I need a drink."

The voice caused Lori to snap to attention, then startle once again when she noticed exactly who was sat on the barstool in front of her.

Her heart began racing as she took in the sight of the singer, even prettier up close. She was doomed.

"Well, what do you like?" she asked him.

"Don't care." He shrugged, truly looking completely unaffected. "Something stout, I suppose."

"You've got it."

She began preparing his drink, trying desperately to halt her trembling.

This is ridiculous, she chided herself. Grow up, Lori.

Still, when she slid the drink to him and he offered her a crooked grin, she felt her knees go weak almost immediately.

"Thanks, love." Those lips wrapped around the stupid pink straw she had stuck in the top, sucking down what looked like a quarter of the drink over the course of a second.

"You're welcome." Hoping to keep from staring too unabashedly, she scrambled for a conversation starter. "I liked your band. You guys are really good."

"Glad you think so." He pulled away from the straw, leaving it vaguely lipstick stained. He fixed her with an appraising look, his eyes a cool blue. "Not to sound picky, but you aren't the type of service I usually get in establishments like this." His eyes dipped down to the neckline of her blouse then back up again, a silent implication.

Lori chuckled. "Don't worry. I catch your drift. Mostly, I'm here as eye candy for the girls."

"Haven't seen many girls here tonight. Reckon they're missing out."

Lori raised her eyebrows. "On me or you?"

"On your spectacular drinks." He took another pointed sip, maintaining eye contact all the while.

At this point, Lori's face was kind of hurting. Holy shit. She was genuinely smiling.

"Speaking of the ladies..." she began. "You've got me a bit confused. You know... between the dress and the way you were staring at my tits, I kind of assumed you were a friend of Sappho."

"Sorry to disappoint. I just happen to be a boy in a dress... and a bit of a dog, I suppose." His boyish smile faded, something like concern setting into his expression. "Say... speaking of the girls, I wouldn't happen to be barking up the wrong tree, would I?"

Realizing what he was implying, Lori shook her head. "No. No, not at all." She felt her cheeks growing warm once again. "I, um... bark up both trees, myself."

"That makes two of us, I suppose." He took another long sip of his drink, this time managing to drain it. When he was done, he held a glass-cooled hand out to her. Without hesitation, Lori took it and shook.

"I'm Brian," he introduced himself. "Molko. And what about you?"

"Lori," she said. "Bell. Pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Brian." She pulled away from him, afraid to linger too long, for fear of seeming desperate. As it stood, she could've stood for him to touch her for a bit longer. Perhaps in a less chaste fashion.

"I'd say 'pleasure' sums it up quite well." He propped his elbows up against the bar, leaning in closer. "So, Lori... the night is still young. Would your shift happen to end anytime soon? I'm thinking we could share one more of these, of you'd like, then, well, we could go back..."

She turned around, reaching for a rag to wipe the countertop down with. "Forward, aren't you?" She reached for a spray bottle, spritzing some on the surface and beginning to scrub in circles. "Unfortunately, there's nowhere for me to go back to, except my boss's house, which is a definite no-go. My ex-girlfriend happened to kick me out today..."

"What're hotel rooms for?"

She stopped cleaning for a moment, meeting his gaze. "Jesus," she said. "You're serious."

"Of course I am."

She stopped, considering this situation. The opportunity that some part of her had been intent on throughout his performance had arisen. If she turned it down now, she'd surely regret it by the time she got to Aaron's house, doomed to spend the night alone.

"My shift's over in fifteen," she declared finally. "Your drink's on me. And I think I'll skip straight to that hotel room, thank you."

🖤

In spite of the unmarked bus outside that belonged to his band, Lori and Brian piled into a taxi outside of the club.

"The boys are gonna be a bit pissed when they realize I left them," he said as they rolled into the backseat. "But they'll get over it. Besides, it's for a good cause."

Lori laughed. "The good cause being that you get to see me naked?"

"Something like that."

After giving the driver the address, he allowed the two of them to fall into silence. Lori sat, watching the lights pass out her window, until she felt a hand brushing her thigh beneath the cut of her skirt.

With a slight start, she turned back towards Brian, only for him to close the distance between the two of them.

With only the partition separating them from the driver, Lori began to feel her restraint dwindling.

She kissed him back with fervor, hands tangling in his hair as his lips trailed from her mouth, down her jaw, all the way down to her neck. She bit down on her bottom lip as he kissed above her collarbone, imagining his lipstick smeared across her skin, the beginning of a culmination of a daydream.

Soon, the taxi stopped, and he pulled away from her, offering the driver his fare before they left the cab behind.

"Well... that was a first," she declared breathlessly, taking a puff of crisp spring evening air. "Never started foreplay in the back of a taxi before."

"Well... there's a first time for everything."

In a blur, they made their way through the lobby, up to the third level of the hotel. As soon as the door was shut behind them, his mouth was on hers again, aimlessly stumbling towards the bed.

She let him undo her blouse, despite the obvious danger his trembling hands posed to the buttons of her uniform. Without even looking, she found the zipper at the back of his dress, sliding it down easily.

Brian pulled back, offering her a look of amusement.

"Now that's something I've done a few times," Lori said.

He chuckled, mouth returning to her already-bruising neck, travelling down her chest. Before she knew it, he wasn't on the bed at all, but at the foot of it, on his knees, poised between her thighs.

She sat up, breathing already coming a little shallow as she took note of the look in his pale eyes. "You don't..." she began.

"Let me," he cut her off.

Swallowing hard, she nodded, falling back against the plush mattress.

The next few moments began the blur that became the rest of the evening.

Her underwear were discarded, likely thrown somewhere across the room with the rest of their clothes.

She found herself unravelling beneath his mouth, hands reaching down to grab at the back of his head again, as she noted the way he did everything with more urgency, more need, than Lena had ever thought about letting show.

And when that part was over, and he was laying between her hips, she offered only two words. "Come here."

With that, she kissed him again, eyes falling closed as she wrapped her legs around his waist, inviting him to go ahead, take anything he wanted.

Without a second's hesitation, he did.