Chapter Two: The Hyde
"…Sigyn?"
Sigyn jumped, realizing someone was talking to her. In her defense, it was loud in here. Turning to Ingrid, she saw that her friend was struggling to keep from smiling. "What is it?" she asked in confusion.
"You've been cleaning that glass for ten minutes," Ingrid informed her.
It was true. Glancing down at the glass she'd been polishing absentmindedly, Sigyn blushed but didn't stop scrubbing. "It's not clean yet," she protested.
"Yes, it is." Ingrid was assembling some sort of beverage for one of the patrons who had approached the bar, putting ice and booze in a blender and looking back at Sigyn.
"No, it's not," argued Sigyn, still polishing feverishly. There was a spot on the inside, large enough to warrant attention, that was refusing to come off. "There's some gunk on it."
"Sigyn, it's fine!" Ingrid responded, laughing as she finished making the drink. "There you go, Sir," she added politely to the man at the bar as she handed it to him. "Look at it! It's clean! I need some help over here."
"But-"
"Sigyn, please! Look at how many people just got in. I can't do this on my own."
Sigyn glanced around the establishment, realizing her friend was right. A party had just arrived, and the moment they got settled the bar would be swamped. Reluctantly she set the glass down, draping the dish towel over the counter as she moved to assist Ingrid.
"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Ingrid teased, nudging her playfully. "Better get working," she added as a young woman approached the bar, ready for another margarita.
Following suit, Sigyn began addressing patrons, whose levels of intoxication ranged from slightly relaxed to completely inebriated. There was always the one tipsy bachelor or middle aged man who made some flippant flirtatious comment, unaware that Sigyn was a 21-year-old virgin who probably couldn't act romantic if her life depended on it. It's just Vegas, she told herself amicably, and continued nonchalantly making drinks. Ingrid, on the other hand, was an outgoing vision, always knowing exactly what to say and how to charm the most jaded clients.
Slowly the night wore on, more and more customers trickling in as the bar came to life and conversations picked up. Eventually allowed to take a break, Sigyn escaped from the bar long enough to get out of the hotel and breathe in the night air. Lights were shining, people were moving about the streets in loud, raucous groups. Taxis raced along the street, and a bachelorette party meandered past her, laughing and nudging one another.
Yanking a tube of hand sanitizer out of her purse, Sigyn slathered herself with it, shuddering at the thought of the amount of germs she must have picked up. She looked up, taking in the view with the starry eyes of someone infatuated with her city as she tugged her jacket around her and pulled her bag back onto her shoulder. Escapism. Fantasy. Culture.
Her phone vibrated in her back pocket, startling her from her trance. Looking around nervously to make sure her boss wasn't watching, she quickly grabbed it and checked the screen. A text message was there, from a phone number she recognized all too well. I'm gonna be in Vegas for a few days. Mind if I stop by? XOXO Mom
Sigyn cringed, then meticulously pounded out a reply: Why now?
Crossing her arms, she waited until a response came: Stuff going on. There's something I need to talk 2 u about.
Sigyn toyed with this for a minute, shifting from foot to foot. With a heavy sigh, she answered. Ok. Come to my apartment.
Just as she'd finished, a new message came, this time from Ingrid: Get back in here! I'm drowning. Sigyn made sure to shut off her phone before pocketing it again. Putting thoughts of her mother out of her head, she scurried back into the hotel to rejoin her friend at the bar.
"Thank god," Ingrid cried the moment she saw her. "I have to pee! Do you mind…?"
"Nope. Go ahead," Sigyn answered, sidling up behind the bar as Ingrid bolted in the direction of the bathrooms.
Her cell phone felt heavy in her pocket. Why now? It wasn't that she didn't want to see her mother- on the contrary, that might actually be nice. It was what that would entail- the unpleasant reminder of "You're different. You don't belong here" forced into her mind like a poison. You're not human. You're not a mutant. You're something else. This isn't your world.
Shaking herself, Sigyn brushed her hair behind her ears, turning to the man who had just arrived at the bar. "Welcome to the Hyde bar. What can I get you?"