“Natasha darling? Are you feeling ok? You haven’t been yourself darling.” Mitzi asked the usually chipper and happy Turkish angora. Said cat looked over at the older female and sighed and pushed her empty glass to Viktor. “Just thinking about the good ol’ glory days. When you had to practically scream at each other just to have a conversation because this place was so busy. The endless party. The beautiful lights and the sound of laughter and fun. I miss those days.” Natasha sighed as she leaned against the bar with Zib hunched over next to her.

The tabby was drunk, as usual. She remembered when the bottle wasn't his best friend and when he was a regular body keeping her sheets warm. Now he was like a shell of his former self. The prohibition really brought everyone down. “Well just think about how much good this might do for people?” Wick said, trying to lighten the mood. Only this earned him glare from the singer. As she did this, Rocky, Freckle and Ivy made their way into the club looking a little worse for wear. “The hell happened to you?” the cat asked with her eyebrows raised.

She honestly wanted to say she was surprised by their disheveled state but she couldn't be. For some reason, whenever something happened, it was always this particular trio. Rocky, who was like a sweet brother to her. She took on a mother role for him when she first met him. She loved his goofy little quirks and the way he spoke like a poet. Ivy who was her very best friend. The pair would stay up late all night talking about love, marriage and boys. She loved her little haircut and thought it suited her well. Last but not least was Freckle.

To say she thought he was the cutest thing to ever exist was an understatement. This cat was anything but menacing. Though this isn't to say that Natasha didn't once look at him in a romantic light. She has. Multiple times. She would never admit that for a few nights on an occasion, Freckle became the object of her very illicit and perverted fantasies. It was something about him she just couldn't put her paw on. Was it his voice? His underlying aggression he only let slip through on occasion? His body? His tail? Whatever the reason, it attracted her more than it should have.

The cat tried not to think about it as said male walked past her to stand next to Ivy. She suspected they might be a thing but was never sure. “Oh hello Natasha! My aren't you looking rather ravishing tonight!” Natasha rolled her eyes at the tomcat as she playfully complimented her. “Oh yes! Ravishing indeed. She's the cat’s meow. Makes you wonder who she's all dressed up for?” Zib said slyly as glanced at Natasha. More like glancing at her boobs in her shirt. “Definitely not you ya drunk.” Natasha said, turning away from him with her tail flicking his face.

“Why dont ya dip a bill huh? I'll buy you one. On me. Least you can let me do with you lookin like a dish.” Looking over her shoulder at him, Natasha smirked. “I'd rather get copped by a daisy than ever drink with you again. Just close your head and down another drink.” Turning away again, her eyes met a large muscular chest that belonged to Viktor. “Oh. Hello Viktor. Nice night we’re having. Right?”

The bigger cat only glared at her and Natasha took this as an opportunity to leave. “Well, I should get going now. I'll see you all tomorrow night if I don't bump myself off tonight. Or get bumped off, g’night!” As the female left, Freckle watched in worry. “Um, was what she said not alarming to anyone?” Ivy laughed and patted his back. “She says stuff like that alot. Trust me! She won’t do it! I know my best friend!”

At Natasha's apartment, said cat was laying on her bed with a gun in one hand and a bottle in the other. One she managed to sneak away from the club. As she took a sip, she sat up and winced at the flavor. “Good God this stuff is strong. Agh.” Looking up at the ceiling, Natasha thought about her life, her friends, her love life, the start of her depression and how this night could potentially be the end of it. Would she finally have the nerve to do it tonight? Will she finally be able to pull the trigger? She wanted to. She wanted to so badly.

But everytime she went, she felt something stop her. A strong unknown force stopped her every night. Like God himself was telling her, she still had a lot of fight left in her. She can do it. She can make it. Be strong.“I'm sick of being strong! I'm sick of being the rock that never breaks! I'm SICK of acting like I got my shit together! I don't! I'm so deep in this dark place…no one can get me out…” As the cat raised the gun to her head with tears running down her face, there was a knock on the door. Stalking over to it with the gun still in hand, she opened it. Standing there, clad in his famous suit, a familiar face. “Mordecai?”