Bare Her Soul (James Patrick March x reader )

Two

You took a seat, swinging your legs off the high stool as you waited for a bartender to arrive. The bar was extremely classy looking, decked out with gilded gold and a plush design that matched the rest of the hotel. It reminded you of a scene from a Bond movie. You were busy deciphering the various bottles of alcohol presented on the shelves, labelled with names you'd never heard of, when a bartender appeared around the corner. A tall woman, with extravagant makeup and an Egyptian-style outfit.

"Hi love, what can I get you?" the woman asked with a welcoming smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Hi! I'll have a French martini please."

It didn't take her long to whip up the cocktail for you, and when she set it down on the bar, you noticed the opulent nail varnish she wore.

"That's a beautiful colour" you complimented and her face lit up in response "what is that?"

"Oh! Thank you. It's 'Le Boutique' in 'willow-grey'."

"Can I get it at Macy's?"

She let out a light laugh "no love. It's nowhere near as expensive as it looks. I get it at the market a few blocks left of here, they sell all sorts of recherché shades..."

"I'll have to check it out" you smiled.

You were sure to make a shopping trip at some point and would much rather spend your money supporting the local community than the large, monopolistic brands than ran LA.

Another woman joined you at the bar then, she wore a tight fitting black dress with stockings, and her skin was so translucent looking that you might not have even noticed her, if it weren't for her shock of frizzy hair. Liz had left you to prepare her drink, seeming to already know this woman's order.

She was very attractive, but that's not why you were staring - there was something strange about her. The way that, despite her modern clothing, she seemed to blend into the hotel as if she were part of the wallpaper.

She noticed of course, sitting only a few stools to your left, and as she wrapped her painted plum lips around a cigarette, she shot you a wink.

You blushed and tore your eyes off her quickly, smiling in response.

Liz watched your reaction to Sally, it was the same reaction you'd had to her - kind. If you'd cared that Liz was a transgender woman or suspected Sally to be a drug-addicted prostitute, you showed no indication. She smiled at you now, a sadness in her eyes.

"So. What's a pretty-young-thing like you doing in The Cortez,  alone?" Liz asked, tidying the bar in an effort to appear nonchalant.

"It's a long story" you sighed.

"Honey" she chuckled, leaning her forearm on the bar "I work ten hour shifts in this place, long stories are my only entertainment."

"Ok...well" you started, taking a mouthful of your martini.

You ended up telling the two strangers the crux of the story, being perhaps a too honest. It was like your words tumbled out of their own accord, you were no more in control than a ventriloquist dummy. You supposed it wasn't unusual for a bar to have that effect on a person. You wondered idly how many secrets this place had drawn out of people.