CH 8: Maybe This Time

Night soon fell over New Orleans as Alastor dropped his belle off at the parlor. He lingered around the space as she parted from him to begin preparations for her performance. The basement saluted her with the usual smell of musky wood and strong gin, setting a powerful tone for this evening. 

Esme walks to the back dressing room to find Mimzy and the other girls getting ready, noticing the blonde yapping like a chihuahua as she mingled with the others. The newcomer makes her way in between the numerous girls walking back and forth to their station, "Hey Mimz." She smiles as she settles at her vanity amongst the chaos of women scampering about. 

"Why don't you look prettier than a magnolia in May." Mimzy says sweetly, walking up to Esme. "I was afraid I wouldn't ever see you again." She smiles, helping Esme with her things.

The two had developed a solid friendship between the two of them as time had passed by, despite the usual bickering and having to be broken apart by their other companion. Mimzy had truly become one of Esme's more trusted companions. Their trio was one of unimaginable proportions - a serial killer, a mafia princess, and a loanshark leech. 

What could go wrong?

"Oh, you know I couldn't do that to you." Esme chuckles, removing her coat and sitting down. Mimzy smiles and begins to walk back to her vanity, but her friend had some business she had to address.

 Esme grabs her wrist, "Hey..." She looks into her eyes with sincerity, "Thanks for taking care of me that night." Mimzy smiles and gives a quick small nod before walking away, the two nonverbally deciding not to go any further with that discussion. 

Esme turns to her mirror and begins to touch up her makeup, putting on bright red lipstick and fixing her jewelry. As much as she was pressured to look 'natural', she wanted her personality to shine through on that stage. There was nothing demure about her as she commanded any space she walked into. Something told her, that despite the preferences of some individuals, she would find a place in their mind nonetheless. 

She runs her fingers through her curls and applies some hair gel to her scalp to keep the flyaways in place. She stands up and adjusts her outfit before heading back to the front of the house. 

Slipping behind the bar counter, their jewel from The Big Apple begins to prepare herself a chocolate martini. She also prepares a glass of whiskey and brings to where Alastor is sitting, no questions asked. She smiles as she puts the glass down, catching the attention of the dapper man as she passed on by. 

It was commendable how she was able to adjust back into the space following the events from the nights prior. She didn't need saving, but he was willing to provide it in those lapses of her better judgment. 

It was both concerning and refreshing how she openly welcomed his darkness, not pushing to find out what happened to that scum, but rather thanking him. 

She was company that he very much appreciated. He wanted to keep her close, continue his studies, and exist alongside her.

As she's walking back to the counter, a man from the neighboring table grabs hold of her dress, tugging at it slightly,

"Hey Missy, I haven't seen you in a while..." He said seductively. He was one of the men from the night of the incident. Esme's blood ran cold as she recognized him. "I haven't seen you since that night. I was hoping I could treat you to another drink, you seemed to enjoy the one my friend gave you." He winks, handing her a cup of alcohol. Alastor is noticing this and is becoming increasingly annoyed. How many of these fuckers am I going to have to sod off? He grits his teeth and presses against the table to sit up.

Before he can do anything, Esme takes the glass. His eyes widened in disbelief. 

You aren't that stupid now, are you? 

She looks at the liquid, swishing it around in the cup before she looks back at him. She smiles sweetly and quickly splashes the liquid in his eyes before throwing the glass down at his feet, shattering it. 

That's my girl. 

Alastor smirks from his chair, chuckling to himself as the man screams in pain, holding his eyes. "You fucking bitch!" He goes to reach for her neck, but the security quickly grabs him and escorts him out. The audience of men looked over in annoyance as he's dragged out, wanting to enjoy their glasses of liquid courage without being disturbed. 

Esme sighs and shakes off her nerves before walking to the dressing rooms to freshen up again. She enters the room and sighs as her back hits the door. She takes a deep breath, laughing to herself of what she did to that man. Damn, she did get joy out of his screams. Did that make her a bad person? Oh well. She sighs contently before heading back outside to perform for the night.

She walks over to the piano and greets the pianist. "Hey Joe, how are you?" He was older than she was, but was one of the rare men that treated the girls of John's establishment with respect and care. He would come in early to go over his sheet music, polish his instruments, so on and so forth. 

"Perfect, doll. Ready to do this?"

"Born ready, baby." She smiles, hoping on to his piano, crossing her legs, and grabbing the microphone pole. 

As soon as she made her appearance, the crowd grew silent. You could hear a pin drop in the parlor, proving to just about everyone that she woman was the songbird they longed to hear. 

Esme clears her throat and parts her lips, her tone low and luscious as she begins. 

Maybe this time, I'll be lucky

Maybe this time, he'll stay

Maybe this time, for the first time

Love won't hurry away

Esme was quickly becoming confident in herself these past couple of weeks. The more she sang, the more power she felt. She had this city wrapped around her finger and there was so much potential for her. Perhaps she could continue to build a name for herself here, one that wasn't tainted within the blood of her family's enemies, but rather consumed by her talent and knack for entertaining.

She smiles seductively into the microphone, brushing through her curls as she continues to sing.

He will hold me fast

I'll be home at last

Not a loser anymore

Like the last time

And the time before

The song reflected her hopes for her life, believing that perhaps within her doubts she could have a chance of the life she always envied. She could settle down, put roots in the soil, and grow as a person within time. 

Meanwhile, Alastor stayed at his table sipping at his drink and watching Esme carefully. Behind him, a group of women watching him intently. His attention never strayed, keeping his eyes locked in Esme's direction. 

His ears were made to only listen to her voice. Everything else was simply useless background noise.

That intoxicating, alluring, voice could drag him anywhere she wanted. He was still trying to fight off the feelings he was harboring for her. He knew that if he gave in to his desires, they would never be the same, and he couldn't promise that he could keep her safe, safe from himself. From who he truly was. Yet, there she was and with every look she gained from the men around him, he wanted to burn the parlor to the ground.

Well, all the odds are, they are in my favor

Something's bound to begin

It's gonna happen, happen sometime

Maybe this time

Maybe this time, I'll win

Esme smiles at the crowd as she finishes the song. She blows kisses and sultry waves. Alastor's grip on his glass tightened. 

There's nothing I can do about it, she's not mine of course. 

He tries to ration with himself and his slow burning jealousy. He wanted to take her away from this, to hide her, and prevent all these disgusting eyes from roaming her. He wanted to take the blade stored within his breast pocket and jam it into the jugular of every revoting, vile, loathsome creature who salivated at the sight of his friend.

He wanted to watch them hemorrhage and fill his wine glass with that crimson substance, relishing in the coopery taste.

Esme, however, enjoyed the power she had on the crowd, and she truly did feel in her element whenever she found herself lost in song. She was a siren in the most comfortable of waters, unaware of the monster that wanted to consume her.

The hours passed, and most of the patrons had gone home with the afterglow of gin, whiskey, and wine roaming the air. Now it was just Mimzy, Esme, Alastor, and a few stragglers scattered amongst their own tables. The three sat at the bar, chatting as per usual.

"I have to say, Missy, that was one hell of a performance." Mimzy comments, pouring herself another glass of whiskey. She held the small glass in the air, tipping it towards the other dame in solidarity.

"Thank you, kindly." Esme smiles, sipping on a martini. She looks over at Alastor, who is quiet, more so than usual. This was unlike him. Usually, the radio host would be yapping nonstop. He loved to hear his own voice, so for him to fall silence was an indication that something wasn't right. "What's up with you?" 

"Hm? Oh nothing, just tired is all." Alastor said calmly.

Esme frowns, "Do you want to head home?" She asks softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. He takes in a quick inhale and moves away from her touch. Her eyes widen slightly as she notices the change in his demeanor, assuming that she had done something to offend or upset him, "I-" She pauses, "My apologies. I'll be back." She stands up and walks away to the dressing rooms, closing the door behind her.

He sighs, reaching for the glass of bourbon, pouring himself another even though his glass was nowhere near finished. It's to the rim now. He downs a couple of quick sips.

"Losing yourself, huh?" Mimzy asks with a knowing smirk.

"Never." He quickly bites.

"She fancies you, it's obvious."

That couldn't happen by any stretch of the imagination - not if he could have any say about it. He didn't believe it was physically possible for her to have any interest in him, considering she had been the only woman besides Mimzy to see him for what he truly is. Then again, she didn't coward away, she didn't show fear, she instead showed respect. 

Like he said, he did find it refreshing...

Perhaps a life that the other men had could be somewhat enjoyable-

No. No, it was a terrible idea. It was something he wasn't capable of doing, something he was uncapable of feeling. Affection was weakness, a vice that could attach him to someone and rid him of his independence and therefore his power. He was not a man to experience that. He wasn't even sure if he was capable of baring romantic or sexual attraction, although he could not deny that there was something about their connection that quickened his heart rate.

To settle down, to even have a spark of interest to another person would mean to risk whatever sanity he possibly had left. 

His mind races with the thought as he continues to drink, "You and I both know that isn't a good idea." He mumbles, his chest tightening uncomfortably.

Mimzy smiles and looks down to the wood of the bar, taking a moment to herself. He was right, she knew that this was dangerous, but the more she watched the two interact, the more she felt something different. She sighs, "Yes...but...could be a nice thought." She sings smirking, standing up, and heading towards the dressing room where Esme is getting changed into her street clothes.

She opens the door and heads inside to join her, noting how Esme keeps her eyes on the ground as she slips on her street shoes. 

All while Alastor is left to sit at the bar. 

Alone in his thoughts. Drowning in the bourbon. 

🖤Words: 2071🖤

~ Artemis 🦌💗