Sing To The Storm

Chapter 1: Nobody's Baby

The first time she'd stepped into the Maribel hotel, she was actually overwhelmed. The reception hall was a sight to behold, especially to eyes unused to glamor or charm of any kind. Every surface was adorned with floral patterns, their intricacy accentuated by the reflections cast down from the golden chandeliers. And as if that wasn't enough, it was bustling with people. They were squeezing through imposing columns, the clinks and thumps of their shoes against the cold marble floor resonating through the walls, as they were trying to get to the real jewel of the building: the Marigold room.

It was, simply put, the most brilliant place Evelyn had ever seen. So bright and warm it could have put the sun to shame. Though the heat might have just been due to the inebriated mass of individuals shamelessly writhing across the polished dance floor. Needless to say, Evelyn wasn't part of that mess. She knew better than to drink. After all, she wasn't really there on a pleasure trip to begin with.

On a sparkling stage, showered in light and surrounded by a semi-conscious audience, sat the lounge band. Evelyn eyed them carefully as they were preparing their instruments. One member specifically, the pianist, caught Evelyn's gaze, and smiled. She was beautiful, Evelyn thought, with her plump lips and upturned nose, but her skin looked strange. She had big, pale, rosy spots sprinkled on her otherwise dark skin, covering her left eye, her neck, her shoulders, and even the very tip of her nose. She was a black canvas stained with speckles of bright paint. When her slender fingers started dancing on top of the piano keys, her eyes looked awake and full of energy, and she was hypnotizing. Evelyn watched her tuck a strand of short hair behind her white ear.

The second time she'd visited the Maribel hotel, she'd just landed a job. Her own ears were ringing with names she forgot seconds after first hearing them, and her feet were hurting inside her fancy new shoes, and her thoughts were swirling and mixing traitorously in her head. Am I doing the right thing? Is this going to backfire on me? What have I gotten myself into? These questions scratched and tore at the walls of her mind, but she did her best to ignore them, as she started to vigorously shake another stranger's hand.

She could tell something was different about this one, though. He was a heavyset man, probably in his early to mid-forties, judging by the look of his prominently wrinkled forehead and abundance of grey in his carefully slicked back hair. While his appearance in itself was by and large unimpressive, there was just something about his eyes... Evelyn couldn't help but sense something darker lurking beneath his friendly grin.

Her small hand was still firmly held in his iron grip when he finally presented himself.

"I'm Asa Sweet. I run this crummy place by night. What's your name, darlin'?"

"Evelyn Moore, sir. Good to meet you," she smiled, finally retracting her hand from his.

"Evelyn, huh? Well, I'm looking forward to hearing you sing, Evelyn."

There was something greedy and dangerous floating over his words. Almost as dangerous as the looks the man behind Sweet was throwing her way. Prominent, square jaws and smooth cheekbones framed his long nose and sharp eyes. She reciprocated his stare for one second, two, three. Try me, her warm brown eyes challenged.

There was something undeniably familiar in his cold, green gaze, guarded behind his round spectacles. She finally looked back at Asa, putting a stop to their little staring contest.

"I hope I live up to your expectations, sir."

And with that they bid each other goodbye, and the crowd swallowed Asa and his silent guardian up again.

She wouldn't get to see her boss, or those dark emerald eyes for a while after that. Nonetheless, her life had been quite eventful up until that point, starting with her first day on the job.