right side of rock bottom

pt i

Larry sat at the hotel bar nursing his bourbon, he'd never much liked places like this. Too clean, practically medical. It felt like work. It was no wonder Anna had picked it for him, which was rich. He fucks one whore, one night, and it's constant monitoring. She screws around for a year with cunty Cupid Dan, and if he tried to check up on her it'd be a verbal slaughter in his direction. He didn't need to though, Dan had been out of the picture for a while. At least, out of hers. Larry had seen him a handful of times in the last two years, the drippy fuck wouldn't stop whining. He couldn't confide in Anna like he used to, not about this anyway, not without putting dangerous thoughts back in her head. They were giving it a real go anyway, so why jeopardise?

Larry couldn't take the hotel anymore, this was New York, city that never sleeps. Why was he wasting it? The dermatologist trawled the streets for some time, already feeling the buzz, looking for somewhere suitably scuzzy with enough character to be redeeming. Six blocks over he found one, there was bad jukebox music blurring through the door which hit him in the face when it opened.

Inside it was half full of drunks, someone over-chalking a pool cue, someone trying to start a sing song to Piano Man, girls flirting in booths with men who had no intention to call next week. The girls would cry about it on Twitter, a bland post about how men were terrible. He would brag. People were predictable. It got boring.

Larry went to the bar and ordered another bourbon, something he'd taken to the last couple years, and leaned his elbow on the counter as he took in the local talent. Purely observation, of course. He was ever loyal, as was his dear wife.

They were pretty, but nothing exceptional. Exceptional seemed to have run out on him.

"Manhattan."

That voice... Larry stood straight and turned to see the back of a slender brunette. "Alice?" She didn't respond, didn't even flinch. "Alice." He repeated, sterner, demanding a response. She continued looking at the beermat.

"Drink's ready Jane." She took the glass in her hands and turned around to face him. She was dainty but solid, seemingly unfaltered by his appearance in her town. Larry didn't believe it for a second.

"I told you my name is Jane."

"We both know that isn't true."

"Why would I lie?"

"You've lied either way."

"It's Jane."

"Does Dan know that?"

"What brings you to New York?"

Larry smiled, crooked and pleased. At least she was constant, still defending with her questions. Other than that, not so much. Her hair had grown, and it was lighter. She looked softer, older, knowing.

"Conference." He didn't bother forcing anything from her, it was too early, and he wasn't paying this time.

"Interesting." It dripped with sarcasm, that's my girl. "Are you still with the witch?"

"Anna? Of course." Alice- Jane rolled her eyes and held back a laugh. "It's going well."

"I don't believe you."

"Let me buy you a drink."

"I've got a drink." She murmured over the glass she brought to her lips, lashes fluttering. Same old girl.

"Your next drink." Larry offered again, and she didn't answer, merely faced the bar and sipped at her glass. He followed suit and they drank in silence. When she was nearing the end of her drink he waved the bartender and ordered another set. Jane gave a protesting look but she still accepted it when it was put on the table.