As Time Goes By
Moonlight and love songs
Never out of date.
Hearts full of passion
Jealousy and hate.
"As Time Goes By" - Casablanca
The barkeep has never asked, but he can see the silent love story in their eyes.
He has been running this Republic City dive bar for very long time now, and they show up every evening right on time. They are lovers, he knows, who cannot be seen together outside of the smoky rooms. They cannot say a word outside of his speakeasy. It's a forbidden love, it's a tragic one, and it is one that has always interested him. And it is one that has broken its pattern tonight.
The two women are beautiful in such starkly different ways. One of them is the type who smiles at everybody in the room and collects the free drinks, only to give them to her love and leave the men not even caring. Her hair is braided in patterns that tell tales of a person who has walked too many paths for her young age.
She knows every single song on the radio, and if she does not, she pretends that she does, and she wears rosy summer dresses even in the grey winter rain. Anyone would go to bed with her, but her eyes only see the girl she hides with on crowded Saturdays.
And her love has such beautiful features, classical and piercing. Her eyes could look right through people and the world is really just a show put on just for her entertainment. When that girl in her sundress sits on her lap and they look through the smoke with dazed expressions, though, the show is very clearly behind her eyes.
Originally, he was certain that they were purely a tragedy and always would be. That those hollow, remorseful expressions and the secret meetings meant they had met only misfortune. When the golden-eyed girl's blood red, sharp nails lifted up the hem of the sundress, she often revealed that the bright colors were just a lie, covering moon white scars. He could see that they were obviously just clinging to a story that ended so sadly.
He saw the jealousy and the subtle refusal of the golden-eyed girl to drink the free liquor meant that the sundress girl had betrayed her heart. He saw the markings of the Agni Kai Triad on one of them, and the watercolor lights on the other. He saw that one was a hellcat and the other was a kitten, and that was likely why they were kept apart by society.
Yes, he knew that was the basic story, the one that happened before they made a new story within the walls of the speakeasy.
He couldn't help but watch for months and seasons, pitying how they were trying to make something last, even though the curtains had fallen. He thought about all the women who had broken his heart, and he thought about all of the women who drove him to break their hearts.
But one night, he saw that there was more as he was adjusting the labels on new inventory and that cute girl with caramel hair who swung by had just left, and he saw the sundress girl pulling on the golden-eyed girl.
"I need you," her lips mouthed, and the barkeep knew that part of the story.
But her lover was cold as ice even though that poor little girl was the sun.
Then, he was fairly stunned as he gave out the last drink and he watched them dance in the shadows to a song crackling on the radio about two lovers who hacked up the gal's husband to pieces and they ran off. He couldn't remember the name, but it was something about love being insane.
Their haunting dance was a melancholy sway, spin and swing, and the golden-eyed girl was not very good at it. But he could suddenly see that there was not always a lament as they were together, but this vibrant and molten love within them that could not be quenched.
Another night, he saw them kiss and it was not that cold and quick desperation. It had been a kiss that was a long time coming, and they kissed again and again, their lips colliding with a burning hunger. The secret meetings were becoming less muted and riddled with longing and need.
Another night, the sundress girl told an animated story to her lover like she always has. But the golden-eyed girl did not just nod along, bored, this time; she seemed to really care. He did not know what she was talking about, but it must have been awfully important.
That invigorated the sundress girl, and she was no longer the sundress girl. She was the sun itself.
She escaped the table before her lover could stop her, and in the middle of the smoke, she was so vibrant that it didn't matter that one of the bar's only three lamps had broken three nights ago. Because everybody was looking at her, but she was only looking at one person.
Their story had so many nights, so many moments that he knows he must have missed, but he can imagine very easily. They always had a few hours in the night that they forget in the morning, because they are not supposed to be here, and they are not supposed to love each other.
He rarely read their lips, solely because he had a job, and they were just two interesting regulars who paid without tabs and never caused trouble.
But the sundress girl said, "I want to get out of here. Take me away from this city. Let's just go."
They came back the next night, and the next, and the next, and don't ever mention it again. Mostly because the golden-eyed girl always seems to be in control, without ever exerting it openly.
It was the night before this one when they spoke of planning their escape again.
"We don't know where we're going." The golden-eyed girl.
"But traveling is more fun than the destination. Leaving is what I need, I don't care where we go. I just wanna go with you, please. I'm suffocating." The sundress girl. "We could go tomorrow. Or tonight."
"I need to think about it." It does not sound so optimistic.
Tonight, the barkeep sees the sundress girl sitting on the table, and she has been waiting for almost all of those sparse few hours they have together. The golden-eyed girl hasn't showed up yet, even though the rowdy bar goes on. Even though the world keeps moving, and it seems to make her so angry.
The barkeep does his job, as he always has since Republic City was more than a construction project. But he has a realization in the night, that the most interesting thing in his life was those two girls and their escape to here.
It is not his business to speak or ask questions; he is supposed to serve drinks and run this place while it falls apart, and listen if people want him to. Bartenders are not supposed to talk, but he is closing for the night, and she is sitting there like a statue painted summer colors.
And then, suddenly, the golden-eyed girl walks in, the second he is moving to close the bar, as if she timed it. He has the gut feeling he is about to be robbed by them, and moves for his sword, but she walks to the girl in the sundress.
He knows it is not his business, but his business is really not supposed to be open right now.
"You should leave before I am forced to maim you," says the golden-eyed girl and he squints at her. "I know you have a sword under there but I will strike you with lightning before you are able to even reach for drawer."
The barkeep is silenced by his shock.
"Is this a yes?" the sundress girl whispers to the golden-eyed girl, daring to grin.
"Obviously," the golden-eyed girl replies with a careless shrug.
"Do you have any idea where we're going?" the golden-eyed girl asks, cocking an eyebrow. "I don't."
The sundress girl shakes her head and shrugs again.
And the barkeep, risking being maimed says, "There's a town called Kodo up near the Si Wong Desert, and it's real nice. There are these, uh, red canyons, and there's a nice inn run by Fire Nation people that don't ask many questions, where most people stop for the night. On the third day you get to the new train station and can go anywhere now."
They look at him, silently, and he feels like he is being eerily watched by owl-crows.
"We will take your input into consideration," the golden-eyed girl says icily before seizing the sundress girl by the wrist.
"Thank you!" shouts the sundress girl as they walk out of the bar, her lover dragging her along. The sundress girl is laughing, and the girl with golden-eyes is glowing.
They never come back, and he finds other interesting customers. None of them pay so well and cause so little trouble as those girls.
But the barkeep thinks that this is a mighty good end to the story.