Little Bird [-hs]

004 - pink pony club

Trigger Warning:
Gun Violence (mention) and Police (mention)

NAOMI

"Who wants a shot?"

Bright-eyed Annie waits for any takers. A wide tray of vodka shots sits on the bar before her. Most of the girls reach around me to help. She smiles triumphantly as the drinks disappear down the throats of her coworkers, then her eyes meet mine.

"Birdie," she sings, sliding a glass toward me. I laugh and shake my head. "For me." She pouts her lip.

Annie and I started dancing around the same time. She's always been a bit drunker than me, a bit louder, a bit more intense. She's the club's "it" girl: wavy brown hair, soft almond eyes, a rack of cheekbones, and a razor sharp jaw. She holds the shot under my nose. I wince at the harsh smell.

"Just a wee sip." She morphs into her horrible cockney accent. The girls laugh. I roll my eyes and take the glass. She raises her fist victoriously in the air. "Yes!"

"You're gonna regret this when I crack my head open." I toast the shot in the air. The other women whistle as I tip my head back and let the liquid coat my throat. It burns a fiery trail all the way to my stomach. I slam the glass down, and they cheer. There's a chuckle from behind the bar.

"Don't crack anything, ladies." Louis stacks the used glasses and hides them underneath beneath the counter. A white towel drapes from his shoulder.

"We'd never." Annie giggles. The alcohol brightens her. She leans over the bar to boop his nose, but he swats her away. Now that they've had their drinks, most of the women wander through the employee's only door, but Annie and I stay at the bar. She twists a bit of her hair and sticks her tongue in between her teeth. "Louis," she coos. He looks back at her with hooded eyes and a lazy smile. "Could I have one more, darling?"

"Are you going to tip me, darling?" He sings back.

She grins. "Of course."

He fills another shot, saunters over, and sets it before her. She stands on her tiptoes and leans over the six inches of wood. The strings of her hoodie hanging between them, she plants a kiss on his lips. He grabs her chin and holds her steady against him for a few seconds. I look away until I hear them pull apart.

"How's that?" She sits back on her stool.

"Very generous." He pokes his tongue into his cheek, and he walks away.

Annie takes the shot. She smacks her lips together and sighs away the bad flavor. "Who was in our dressing room last night?" She wipes the corners of her lips with her thumb.

My mouth goes dry. "Who?"

"You know who." She wiggles her eyebrows.

I grimace at my onslaught of thoughts, and I pick at the callus on my palm. "Just some fan."

"You have no game, Douglas." She rolls her eyes, playfully perching her chin on her hand.

"He's no one." The heat of the shot races to meet me. My toes curl at the thought of Harry, of his eyes squinting at me through the rain last night. I swallow. "He wasn't nice."

Annie straightens. "Oh, shit. What happened?"

Annie's an older sister, and loyal as all hell. She's unpredictable and easily set off. If she knew what happened last night she'd go batshit crazy. It's a nice thought to entertain, but this isn't her mess. I don't want to accidentally get her involved, to have her end up on that dock like I did.

"I'm alright."

I feel her gaze hard against me, creased eyebrows and tight lips. "Alright."

Louis flicks a switch. The club descends into a darkness accentuated with hazy purple light. He gives us a knowing look, and we stand up. The thumping beat of a song erupts into the room. The heavy front door swings open. I watch our few regulars go to sit at the bar, Mark and Patrick. Some young women rush to the edge of the stage. Already plastered, they sway their hips and throw their hands into the air. Annie darts through the employee door, and before I follow her, I take one last look.