Heaven - ONC 2022 LONGLISTED - old version

chapter 3: cyanide

The night bloomed over Heaven yet when it touched Club Purgatory it exploded into a black stain, deeper and darker than in any other part of town.

Inside, the music raged. It was a desperate thunder in the ill-lit place. On the stage, a dancer with a shock of mermaid hair of multiple shades of greens and blues rolled over a layer of bills. Below him, the limited patrons hurled cash like broken ATMs.

In the dressing room, Sina slipped into his street wear and grabbed his backpack. As he made his way out, he looked back promising to bring Cookie a new pack of cigarettes the following evening. 

If it wasn't for the smudged smokey and glitter rings of makeup around his eyes, and the glitter decorating whatever bit of flesh stuck out of his t-shirt, Sina would have looked like another patron and not a dancer. His shift had ended half an hour ago and he headed to the bar in dire need of a drink or five. Plopping like a deadweight in one of the stools, he slouched down until his head touched the bar-top.

"The usual, Sinful?" The barkeeper who barely looked old enough to be working in a club had a shaved head and was covered in arm and neck tattoos. Leaning against the counter he poked Sina in the arm.

Peering up through a lock of long hair at the mermaid stripper, Sina grumbled, "I hate that Ariel wannabe. I wish he'd go stick his head in a blender and turn it up to turbo speed. Ever since he came the usual pevs have no money for Cookie or me." Turning up to the bartender he huffed, "How about a shot of cyanide."

Chucking, the bartender leaned closer. "You know I save the good stuff for myself." Without asking again, he poured Sina a shot glass full of tequila and one for himself. Passing it over, the tequila sloshed out all over his fingers.

Inching forward, Sina bowed into the barkeeper's fingers and licked the liquor off before lifting his gaze and snickering.

"The day I begin to speak fag, I'm coming after you," the bartender said in a this-is-for-your-ears-only tone.

Looking up, Sina raised a brow. "You've been saying that for three years now, Cody."

"I'm not your type." Cody chuckled and reached for his own shot glass.

"What do you know about my type?" Lifting his glass, Sina waited until Cody clinked glasses before drinking.

"Ah," Cody set the glass down on a ring of moisture and began rolling it around in the nearly perfect circle. "I know you like guys with hair," he teased good-naturedly. "Dark hair." He paused in thought, then snapped his fingers. "Short dark hair. No blonds. No mermaid hair."

"No blonds. No mermaid hair," Sina agreed.

"I know you like them older."

Sina raised a brow. "True. And you're still a pipsqueak."

Halfway to lifting the shot glass to wipe away the ring, Cody stopped and sighed. "I'm twenty-two, old man."

"I'm twenty-three," Sina lied.

"And you've been twenty-three for how long?"

Sina lightly shrugged and reached out to mutilate the ring of moisture until it looked like a spiky star.

"Since I've known you, at least, Sinful."

"Whatever."

Poking Sina in the arm, Cody asked teasingly, "Why don't you age?"

"I've forgotten how."

Cody folded the tea towel then set it neatly next to him. "Anyway. Your type. I know you never liked anyone who ever entered Purgatory." When Sina raised a brow, Cody continued, "Not really. I mean not like heart-thumping kinda love." He pumped his hand against his chest and mouthed thud thud. "Come on, I can see." He briefly pointed two fingers towards his eyes. "No one here's ever your type, right?"

Sina bit his lip and rested his head on the counter. Around him, music played. It sounded angry as it bounced off the walls of the semi-empty club. "I hate this place... I hate glitter, too, and I always leave here with both stuck to my skin. And no matter how much I wash, I can't get rid of them."

"I know, pal. But it's all we've got. Anyway, where would people like us go to get better work? A bank? Can you imagine me showing up asking to work as a teller with this?" Cody looked serious as he pointed to a screaming eagle occupying most of the right side of his neck.

Sina let out a sound, something between a snort and a chuckle. "You want to go work in a bank?"

Pouring them another shot, Cody's lips curled in a smug smile. "Hell no." Passing Sina the tequila, he added, "I ain't working anyplace I can't get shit-faced in."

Sina raised his glass. "I'll drink to that." When his second shot of tequila was finished, he pointed to the bottle. "Another and keep them coming until I no longer remember what I look like."

Leaning towards his friend, Cody frowned. "What's eating ya?"

"I'm getting kicked out of my place at the end of the week. The fool is moving in her grandson and his wife so out I go," Sina said bitterly as he hooked his thumb over his shoulder.

"Kinda last minute, huh?"

Waggling his finger to the tequila bottle, Sina replied only when he'd downed his fourth shot. "Who's going to care? Not like I can do anything about it. So as of Sunday, I'm homeless."

"Damn..." Cody sighed. "I wish I could let you crash until you find a place," his tone was apologetic, "but we've got the baby now."

"Your house is tiny. Where would I sleep, the bathtub? Anyway, Joni hates me."

"She doesn't hate you," Cody lied. When Sina raised a brow the barkeeper chuckled. "Ok, Sinful, she hates you."

Slowly extending a glittery arm, Sina took hold of the tequila bottle by the neck and brought it to his chest. "Thanks anyway." Holding it close, he got up and tapped a black painted nail against the glass.

"Yah, go ahead," Cody nodded. "Just slip it in your backpack so no one sees."

When his lips curved into a faint smile, Sina spoke, "You're good people." Giving Cody a twiddle of his fingers, Sina slipped out of Purgatory and into the dark, lonely streets of Heaven.

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total words: 2978