Sin City *On Hold*

3

November 2, 1929

The pair of friends spent the entire night chatting their mouths off and ordering rounds of drinks until they realized that they should probably be reserving their money for emergency purposes, considering that people's jobs were being dropped like flies. Still, they enjoyed being in each other's company and as they learned more and more about each other, they realized that they had nothing in common at all. Josephine's love for jazz music, Kenneth's love for art. She had not one artistic bone in her body, but he didn't have a musical bone either so they were technically even.

"Oh my!" Josephine covered her mouth as she wiped the tears falling down her face and waited for her laughter to die down. "I don't know if it's the booze talking, but you are one funny fella', Kenny." She giggled some more, fanning herself.

When Josephine heard the music it was like liquid adrenaline being injected right into her blood stream - not so strong as to freak her out, but just enough to make her tingle and start to move her body. She'd never had a dance class, but her and her mates had jived to music since their early teens. Now she was a well oiled machine on the dance floor. She didn't dance to show off, to make the men watch - but they did.

"Well, nobody's laughed that hard at my old sap stories, so I assume that you're out on the roof." He chuckled, seeing how red her face got.

"I don't get drunk, I get—" She stopped and hiccuped. "Tipsy."

"I think it's about time I get you home, little lady." Kenneth slid out of his chair and grabbed her hand to help her down. She stumbled a bit, but he caught her before her legs could give out. "Do you always go this overboard?"

"Oh, don't be prissy, boy. I'm just living the— hic! —feminist dream!" Josephine slurred on her words as Ken helped her down into his car. He would've called her a cab, but he didn't want to put her in danger like that. He would've rather taken her home himself, that way he knew she was in good hands.

Although she was stumbling over her own feet, slurring on her words, and hiccupping in between every one of her sentences, Ken admired how open she was to being herself. The way her cheeks flushed red even on her brown skin, she laughed loudly and obnoxiously, but it didn't bother him. Nobody else laughed that hard at his jokes, or at least took the time of the day to listen to them.

"Well, then you need some sleep so you can live your feminist dream all over again tomorra'." He strapped her seatbelt over her waist and started up his car, pulling off.

As the car engine sung to the lone midnight city roads, Josephine relished the roaring winds that twirled in her short black hair and whistled in her ears. "Driving at night is all about communicating with the lights." She mumbled as she stared up at the sky with her right arm handing over the door.

"How so?" Kenneth questioned, taking glances between her and the road ahead of them.

"You can take the time out to be alone, at one with the universe. And that's the moment where you— hic! —listen. Listen out for signs, warnings, because they're everywhere. Written in the stars or right in front of your face." She let out a tiny burp, covering her mouth in embarrassment. "Excuse me."

Ken tapped his finger on the steering wheel as they sat at a red light. There weren't many people on the road, but the light wouldn't change yet. Josephine hummed along faintly to a small tune that playing nearby. "I love this song."