Note: For anyone who understands the language better, I hope the attempt at Japanese in the last chapter was alright. The thing with Aby is she's lived long enough and traveled all over to know so many languages and I am not fluent in all the languages I'm attempting. Plus I'm a special kind of stupid. Thanks for the comments and support. Hope you can find entertainment during these standby-ish times.
Chapter 10: Meeting Madam Mimzy
Alastor flexed his arm where Aby held onto him. She looked up at him as they approached the club the male had planned their evening around. She had heard of the place but had yet to really look into it. It was supposed to be a performance club like the ones you'd see in old detective movies. Aby loved those kinds of places. Not just because they were- as shown in the films- good for gathering Intel, but also since they had the most beautiful staff. Aby remembered a couple mentors she had had in the past while living in the human world. She remembered the demand going down after the wars ended. And she remembered losing touch with those women not long after that. Like ghosts that vanished in the fogs of history.
I never did find out what happened to them, she realized. Not that she had ever looked very hard. Yet another regret of the old girl.
Alastor kept an eye on her face from the corners of his vision. He didn't need to look too intensely to know what was on her mind. Or to know what she was thinking. Even if he didn't know the details, he could safely draw his own conclusions. Aby was just that kind of partner.
When she finally snapped back to reality, she could feel his gaze on her. Catching herself before her previous expression dropped. Her smile being smaller than she would have liked. Not that she could help it at the moment. Nevertheless, she did her absolute best to keep it from falling any further. 'Less she wanted to disappoint her lover. They were in public after all. And image was everything. Which was why Alastor had been keeping a closer watch on her as of late. He figured she must have sensed he wanted to check on her. Resulting in the reason behind giving a reassuring giggle when their eyes met. She followed it by looking forward after straightening her posture to a more ideal height. One fitting that of a queen.
Alastor was about to say something. Beaten to it when she spoke up first saying, "It's unusual for you to want to come out in the middle of the week. Didn't Charlie ask you to finish up the last of the new advertisement script. We have to shoot the commercial soon or we'll have to drag demons in by the horns to get them to even remember the place exists."
Attempting joke after joke behind each fact stated afterward. Aby had yet to realize she had begun babbling. Alastor laid his free hand over the one tucked between his arm and his body. Patting it a few times as he raised a brow to her. Saying nothing, but able to alert her to his amusement none the less. When she finally caught on to her rant, she rolled her lips in on themselves.
"Oop", she said by habit.
Silencing the noise abruptly. Her left hand snatched away from its resting spot of Alastor's wrist to cover her mouth. The tips of her middle and ring fingers being to only ones needed for her small, supple mouth. She looked sheepishly at Alastor, who only shrugged in response. She brought her hand back to rest on his wrist when she decided he had forgiven her for the outburst. Though he still said nothing. Finally, she decided to go against her urges to push him. Figuring he must have something planned.
I just hope I'm not in trouble, Aby acknowledged.
Already knowing herself too well. The lead point in any argument to their relationship being that she'd go anywhere Alastor told her to. Come Hell or high water, she would remain loyal to the man she loved. Unfortunately or fortunately for her- depending on the context- so did he.
Alastor gave an approving bounce of his arm to signify that he was grateful for the change in atmosphere. Against Aby's prior knowledge, he had finally arranged an appointment for Aby and Mimzy to meet. Without Aby's knowledge. He repeated it over and over in his mind. An instinct telling him, he should have at least given her some warning. Confessing to himself that since Aby had no idea who he had been upon her arrival, it may have meant a lot of things were no longer kept in her memory. So, he had no hint as to how she would react when his intentions were revealed.
This should be entertaining, He thought smugly. Eager to see it firsthand. With his own eyes.
Once the couple made it to the line, the bouncer noticed Aby immediately. Alastor caught him looking her up and down. When the two men made eye contact, the bigger of the two jerked his head. Calling them to the front of the line. Alastor guided Aby with little indication of what had gone on. The bouncer then removed the chain blocking the doorway. Allowing the pair to pass with no hassle. Aby guessing it was due to her significant other's status as a Demon Lord more than anything. Aby wasn't granted the luxury of overthinking, as the inside instantly gripped her concentration. Her eyes widening in amazement.
Inside, the club was bumping with a jazz beat that had a strong lead from the trumpet and trombone players. Prioritizing the low notes harmonizing with a quick change to give it a tune that allowed even new dancers to find a rhythm with their partners that was both enjoyable and energized. A subtle undertone also made it easy to move slower if the dancers wanted to. But in a place like this; who would? Aby loved it instantly.
Especially when the singer dropped in from her place on center stage, radiating from the spotlight, with a full, passionate, high note to take the audience by storm. Belting it out she ran with it until it came time to sing the lyrics. Aby could tell who the regulars were because they started snapping to the beat. Some completing the old ways of appreciation by nodding their heads along with their hands. Aby glanced about the room. Discovering the song was an original piece with that old golden town flare. Approving silently. Listening as she took in every detail about the club. Letting Alastor pull her along to their table.
It was a large club. Set up in a way that drew inspiration from ancient Greek theatres. Granting the ability to not have to rely on just microphones to project. The walls had a special lining on them to allow control over the noises that were naturally formed in these settings. Next, Aby took a look around at the seating areas. With the main part being closest to the stage in an indented space that required taking a short staircase straight down the middle to get to. Wheelchair ramps off to either side near the stage. The subsections atop the stairs had smaller tables. A booth made to fit between ten to fifteen people filling the corners of the room. Utilizing the space so the waiters had enough room to move and duck when they needed to. The main tables downward alternating between large and small. Giving it a symmetrical, even appearance when it filled up.
All of them were lit by a candle or two on a mirror tray. The V.I.P. seating lined the stage. Marked by the small vases with flower arrangements. Each one different from the other. Aby tried to figure out all the enter flowers. But could only safely name the ones with a Forget-me-not, a Lilly, a Lavender, a Tulip, an Acacia, and finally- at the only empty table in the area- a wide bloomed rose. With it, was a string of Baby's Breath all around it; looking like falling snowflakes in the dark to Aby. More petals scattered on the table over the silk onyx cloth. Running her hands down the fabric to feel at the thorn decorated vines embroidered in a way that made them curl up. Reaching to towards the top part of the table. Reminding her of the similar design of her halo. But that wasn't the last part she caught.
The final- and probably the most obtruding- detail was strangely distinct. Making it clash with the theme of the entire club for its existence. The table had been spritzed with a deep scent of a spice Aby couldn't name. Though upon looking at Alastor, he seemed to know it. Relaxing as he sat in his own seat after seeing Aby to hers. Having been distracted, Aby hadn't offered much praise to the polite behavior. Causing her to feel guilty. Even so, she said nothing since Alastor was not one to take praise from those who he didn't seek it from.
I'm still not sure if that is meant to be a compliment, the lighthearted lass admitted.
Coming back to the matter of the spice. It was strong but not overwhelming. Experience in her dietary palate informing her that it was something similar to Chili powder. Possibly native to India. She remembered becoming standoffish with Indian cuisine due to a large portion of it being too hot for her liking. By this point, the lack of knowledge was starting to consume her.
Not noticing the performance had ended. A roar of applause swimming towards the stage. The lovely singer clearing her throat to one side, away from the microphone, at Aby. Alastor eventually used his staff to tap at her toes. Causing the vibration on the floor to startle her enough to look around without looking suspicious. When she caught the room cheering, Aby gave a polite, cheery smile at the songstress. Taking in her features now that they were close enough.
The woman was dressed in a magenta-like colored flapper girls' dress that had a deeper purple hue to it. A very appealing shade for the creamy gray skin tone the performer possessed. Beads dangling down over her knees and dazzling her breast area. Her tall dance heels were made with another type of velvet Aby was used to seeing on shoes. The expensive, high-dollar kind. Her hair was a dangerous mixture of a pale grey and platinum-blonde that was cut to a cute just-above-the-shoulder look. Tidied up with parted long bangs that hid behind a gem decorated headband and matching feather. The ends of her hair curling forward as if calling all those around her to a spectacular show. Over her hands was a pair of elbow high glamor gloves. The same color as her dress. Bringing the look together with a satisfying radiance of the roaring twenties only a true showgirl could provide.
Aby only took a brief second to process the slight disappointment of the time pass. Another second was used for her insecurities. After that, it was time to play her part and pull her weight. She was, first and foremost, Alastor's lover. And that came with a price. So if Alastor brought her here- it was for a reason. Aby knew she had to be of clear mind to survive it. Whatever it was.
Not long after the crowd ceased its applause, the singer made her way off the stage. The couple at the table placed an order with their waitress. Alastor ordering another Cajun dish; called Étouffée. When Aby couldn't find it on the menu, she asked her dear about it. He simply ordered a milder version of it and asked for the meat to be replaced with crawfish. As far as Aby knew, the meat was supposed to be crawfish. What was Alastor substituting in his? Aby remained confused. Watching. Waiting. Trying her best to understand. Then it struck.
Alastor is a Demon Lord, Aby concluded. The sort with a particular food preferences. He wanted what he wanted and he didn't compromise.
Aby had known it, sure. But she never had the time to sit and think of what it could mean for every aspect of life. Even if she did, Aby doubted she would ever know the full details. In fact, the more she thought about it, the less sense it made. She was pleased to be his. Yet, there was so much she didn't know. The part that concerned her: was the fact she didn't care. Aby never asked about the possibility of past lovers. Or family. Or even consider the future with Alastor. As if there was nothing to think about but the time with him. Down to the current second.
Aby had given up her newly fixed halo. And for what? A man who made her happy, fulfilled and beautiful. But who also made her feel mediocre, undignified, and childish. To top it all off, she had no clue why Alastor chose her of all options. She remembered the times she started to grow clingy in her throws of sexual arousal. How Alastor looked pained to do more when requested. Even if it was just a hug. Aby had always double checked with him. Mainly due to his germ-a-phobic like tendencies. Always seeing how, with Alastor, everything had to have a proper place. Be there. And stay there. The only exception was during a kill. That's what Aby assumed. There was no such thing as a mess-less kill. Less messy; yes. Mess-less; fuck no.
Even then, she had no idea what he was like in those moments. Was he merciful? Did he torture his prey? She knew he preferred to eat his meat raw. That being said, it didn't stop him from eating it cooked. Which he would do if he knew he was going to be in the presence of company. Despite Alastor not being shy about his habits or ideals, Aby didn't try tooth and nail to see every side of him. She was taking it slow. Living in the moment, so to speak. At every turn. In moments like this, when the back of her mind got so sick of the fog, she'd try to get a train of thought going. Until she'd tire of it. Then she'd retreat back into her everyday state.
It still felt like a dream being with him. Aby gave a quirky grin as she thought about the one song, from the one Broadway show that seemed to fit her mood. Whenever she went through these weird little moods, she'd catch herself. She'd hum the melody. Then look at her lover. Aby would close her eyes, ending it on a single thought in the midst of her foolishness. Guilty over her emotional swing. Judging only herself.
Nice going Angelica. He was right- you will never be satisfied…
Aby sat in silence with her lover across the table. Resting her face on her hands, going over details of his frame. His movements. Being with him was like having a veil over your eyes while dancing in the rain. The feeling of freedom mixed with the ability to do whatever you wanted gave you a powerful rush. You couldn't help the feelings of being so comfortable and untouchable. Forgetting the world you hate. Only being there with the parts of life you love. Your imagination filling in the blanks your vision doesn't see clearly. Giving you more control. Then when the veil gets too wet, it sticks to your face. Something that doesn't become an issue until you try to breath. When you do, it's just like water torture. It's cold. It sends your body into a shock. Breathing hurts. Some part of Aby felt…being with Alastor…hurt. The only question remaining was: For who?
Aby wouldn't be allowed to figure her emotions out. As the couple was greeted by a special guest coming up to their table. The older female crossed her arms. Alastor was in the middle of finishing his wine when he caught her in his line of sight. Doing that thing people do when they need to finish drinking or eating before they speak. That weird subconscious bop of the shoulders as one moves forward with wide eyes before sitting straight and placing the glass or fork back onto the table. Aby half closed her eyes in observation and skepticism. Figures that right when she was thinking of other shit- Alastor shows a more human quality. Aby's smile became emptier than it had ever been.
The voice returning to remind her, Keep smiling. No matter what you do, never stop smiling. He mustn't see you without it.
That was when he spoke, "Right- Good to see you old girl. Aby! This is Mimzy. Mimzy. Well- you already know."
"Sure do. Pleasure is all mine. Getting to spoil you in my own club and all." Aby noted the small back of the throat squeak Mimzy had when she talked. How it was much less noticeable when she was singing. At the same time, there was a trade mark at the end of each lyric.
Aby took a minute to exchange looks between the two. Both were giving Aby expectant glances. Studying her. Aby turned on the charm fast. In case it was a test. Aby smiled brightly, offering her hand to shake. In turn, Mimzy took her hand and leaned down. Hugging Aby around the shoulders. Pressing her cheek snuggly against Aby's. Mimzy was friendly to the fallen. It was appreciated. Up until she turned to address the Radio Demon. Mimzy was cautious not to get into his space too much. She was polite but overly friendly when the formalities were finished. Recognizing the swipes Mimzy took at the air. Longing movements that pushed and pulled to get the message across. Though, Alastor didn't seem to notice. This only made Aby more paranoid.
It didn't help matters when Aby gave another look over at the woman beside her. She was lovely. Prideful. And sounded daringly close to the famous singer Doris Day; if she had a voice that was a pitch higher and had an under-squeak effect on the air it lingered on. So maybe a mix between Doris Day and Jennifer Tilly. That may have been more accurate. Either way, Aby noticed another thing. Her tits were huge! Aby instinctively rolled her shoulders back. Making sure she didn't look stiff. Partly disgusted with herself. It didn't matter if she was a c-cup. This was as good a declaration of war as any. Made even more clear when Mimzy was granted a kiss on the back of the hand before Alastor took his leave. Stepping around the table to place his hand on the center of Aby's back before offering a kiss to the temple.
Why was that necessary?
*#*
Alastor graced the girls with a charming, soft smile. Simply stating, "I shall return. One moment ladies."
With that, he was gone. Leaving to get drinks for the trio. Also inevitably leaving the girls to chat. Aby and Mimzy seemed to be on the same page. Smiling and waving until he pointed his attention elsewhere. Vanishing into the darkness of the club. Shortly after that, Mimzy sat down where Alastor had been. Shimmying into the seat. Never breaking eye contact with Aby.
Aby's face turned to one of stern intimidation. Mimzy didn't seem fazed. Her smile melting into a smug grin. Since they would have nothing else to do, Aby broke the silence first. Feeling it was best to start with questioning the relationship between the other two.
"Now that I think about it", Aby started, "Alastor did mention something about you."
Mimzy perked up at the news.
"Oh, did he now? What an honor." Mimzy shifted in the chair again. Giving her short legs a chance to cross as she leaned her weight to one side. Obviously becoming more relaxed compared to before. Pulling into the bait Aby had laid out to her.
"After all, he did help me keep my business afloat. I owe him a great deal."
"Oh, is that all?" Aby was being snarky. But she wasn't in the mood for games.
So far everything Mimzy had offered in tums of body language was a silent middle finger to Aby's inelegance. Baiting her back with a bitchy, I-know-something-you-don't-know attitude. And Aby took it as an insult. The flames fueled by the fact that Alastor had known her before meeting Aby. Only making things worse since Alastor never did anything for free. Whatever their relationship was, it relied on Alastor taking the lead. And getting something in return for his services. Leaving Aby to question how far it went. After all, prideful girls who run things don't throw themselves at just anyone.
Mimzy seemed to catch on to the hint that Aby's brain was calculating at a hundred miles an hour. Going over every one of his interests. Taking a measurement of each interaction to look for evidence missed. Words escaped. Even to see if there might have been false signals exchanged. At this point, Aby wouldn't put it past Alastor to try to manipulate Aby. Just because he couldn't lie to her, didn't mean he couldn't make her do what he wanted. Making her more and more paranoid. Because of this, Aby tried to think of any opportunity that could have been used to drug her. The demons she had been around. Were any of them mutual 'friends'? Where had she been going lately? Where had Alastor been going lately? When she started going in circles in her head, the anxiety took over. Making it hard to breath. She looked for a new angle. All the times she felt like someone was watching over her shoulders. The fights. The arrangements. Nothing could just be coincidence.
Because Alastor never did anything by coincidence. Everything was methodical. Meticulous. Every detail mattered, Aby thought.
The moment was broken. Shattered when the flapper girl decided to speak.
"Let me guess. He asked if you knew me right", Mimzy had no real tone in her voice. Clarifying, "When you two were first getting to know each other."
Aby stood straight. Providing her attention back to the other female. After letting the question bubble in her head she asked, "How did you know that?"
The club was still bustling. All the traditional sounds were filling the air. But to the two ladies, there was nothing but dead silence. Nothing spoken. Nothing denied. Aby felt her stomach jump when the waitress returned. Replacing the breadstick basket and serving the dishes that had been ordered moments earlier. Aby gazed confused. She hadn't kept up with the time. Yet, it somehow got away from her. How long had she been losing it for?
Aby took a deep breath.
Wanting to say something. Feeling something should be said…
Defeated again. Mimzy assured Aby, "You're the only gal Alastor could ever show such affections to, though. In the end- I mean."
Aby stared daggers at Mimzy. Her eyes burned with rage and the display of loathing towards the possibility of deceit. In those eyes, Mimzy saw Aby dare her to tell her: how. How could she know? How could she be confident in forming the words? How could she challenge Aby's very core shaking? Trembling to find the truth. Followed by the strong willingness to kill anyone who betrayed her. To slaughter them to bits, stuffing them into the crevasses of the walls to block out the future whispers of liars. Those who'd dare to fool her again.
Mimzy saw it all. She felt the sweat bead along her back. The tingle of her spine making her stretch her neck. Hoping she could embrace it as well as get away from it. She had met many people. But this moment was probably the closest the songstress ever got to know the soul hanging magic that any adrenaline junkie could speak of. Her smile remained. The affection it showed, however, grew more genuine. Mimzy spoke again.
"He wouldn't accommodate anyone else", she started, "And as far as working with him has led me to believe…There's only ever been one woman he ever loved before you."
*#*
What's the greatest feeling you have ever known? Something that made you rush to get to the next place because you couldn't imagine another moment away from it. The only thing so great in your world, it left a flutter in your head and a numbness in your throat. For one specific gal in the flapper business, it was those days as a stage performer. In the smallest club in one of the largest cities in the world; New York.
The year was 1921. Women all over the city were listening to fast music, wearing bright makeup, and dancing so hard their feet practically fell right off 'em once they stopped. It was a new era. The kind where the last couple months of the war were creeping up, the discovery of Insulin was announced, and the Yankees were kickin' ass all throughout the season. Remember that tiny club from earlier? Well- it plays a part here too. Mainly due to being owned by a woman. That very same flapper girl mentioned just before that to be exact. A sweet sensation that cheered the nation in the big apple. But since it was a different time than the one some would come to know, her ownership of the club was a secret. Hidden behind a man by the name of Mr. Conjurske.
He was just her type in the way that he was pretty and stupid. Solidifying his place as the face of the business when the beloved performer had no desires for him. Just as all who failed before him. No man had turned her head. So she focused on positive qualities instead. Sided by her big dream to make it big. Making her own way in the world. On her own terms. Something Mr. Conjurske could never grasp. All the same. Being easy to please made it less troubling for the younger female to choose between her dream and the fight against time. Due to this arrangement, the pair had little issue keeping their façade intact. Giving her room for another hobby.
You see, making it big was the kind of thing that was both a game and not. It came with rules to follow that only certain people could break. Expectations to fill or die. As for the fight against time, that was one of the obstacles in the game. To live forever before your age started to show. Success only came to the young. Something no one could be forever. A very disconcerting factor indeed. With such a booming club came much competition. Hotter. Smoother. Younger. And don't even get started on the more talented. It would break anyone else. But not her. Not…
"Mimzy!"
"I told you not to call me that", the older woman stated in a half-hearted nagging tone.
She didn't need to look behind her to know who it was. Pressing her lips together to better work her lipstick. Breathing in deep. Bringing her hands to fluff her short flapper hair. When no apology came, she finally turned around and spoke again. Her tone now one of soft scolding.
"Well? Didn't I? Alice?"
*#*
"What the hell does that mean?!"
Aby slammed her hands on the table. Leaning over it as she now stood up from the table. Giving a mean glare to the other female across from her. Though it was asked like a question, the fallen one didn't really care for an answer. Aby was many things. But she did not consider herself a fool. That this kind, anyway.
Knowing deep down it wouldn't matter what the other one said at this point. Because Aby wouldn't believe her. Mimzy had shown Aby enough. Brass or tact's. Brain or brawn. Aby had had enough!
Life hadn't been kind to her. She never asked it to be. But- just once- for the first time, she had someone like Alastor. And she wasn't ready to give that up. Not for any reason other than what he told her. Between dealing with Charlie, helping Angel, walking on eggshells with Husker and everything else Hell had thrown at her; Alastor didn't cause her much stress. Overthinking and being self-conscious? That was nothing. Aby would even go as far as to say normal.
For the first time in my life I'm normal…
Aby was in the middle of taking deep, heavy breaths. Hard exhales that moved her shoulders, even when she tried to control it. She couldn't believe what she just thought. What it meant for her. Aby wasn't happy to be normal. She was happy because she felt alive. No duties. No responsibilities. No pressure or morals. She did what she wanted because there was no one to tell her she was wrong. And she wasn't even that shitty of a person. If anything, she was a pearl in a barrel of clams. Some expired.
All these years…
Meanwhile, Mimzy didn't move from the pose she had taken. Sitting there watching. Her eyes glossed over. Had Aby gone too far? Mimzy looked at the rival standing her ground, yet said nothing to her. Aby couldn't get read on her. Missing the sound of the bell tinging in her head. Knowing she needed to hear it to make her next move. Aby started to panic. Mimzy wasn't reacting in anyway Aby had mentally prepared herself for. She then realized she hadn't even acted the way she intended. The plan having been burned in the window sill long ago.
Aby felt sick. Unable to keep from starring at the table. Feeling Mimzy was hiding something from her. She wanted to run. Her head began to pound. Thump, thump, thump. Throbbing from the back. Moving towards her temples. She felt light-headed. Thump, thump, thump. Aby felt the fog grow thicker. Again, the silhouette of the man in the distance. She felt his eyes on her. A pool of something wet gathering at her feet. He didn't move. All Aby could do was get on her knees. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.
The beating changed, she thought. Why did it change?
Aby chugged the last of her wine. The bitterness gathering in her mouth. Practically suffocating her. The taste lingering in the back of her throat. It made breathing even more of a chore. The room was higher. Aby realized she had been in a kneeling position on the ground. Now, fighting back the urge to vomit. Her eyes stun. Grinding her teeth, she peeked over the table. Mimzy hadn't moved.
The flapper smiled. "Now, now dear. Do sit back down won't you. Let's have a real gal's conversation. It'll be lovely- you'll see."
*#*
"Why must you insist upon such a ridiculous nickname, child." It wasn't a question. The older one continued. "What the good golly gracious does that mean anyway? Miiim", Mimzy said the shortened nickname in a way that put so much emphasis on each letter it made Alice laugh.
"Mim is short for Musical Instrument Museum. Trust me. It fits you. The Z-Y just makes it sound cuter. Like Gabby or Stacy. All the best names end with that Y sound. It adds to the social factor."
"There is no such place", Mimzy snapped. Not really mad, just more tired. And sore.
This was due to another activity she participated in offstage. It took a lot out of her both physically and mentally. If only because Mimzy was the type to do things with her entire being. For passion and honor. Building herself up from the ground into something unique. You see, this gave her another little secret. Something just as important as owning her own club. Her devilish secret. She… was a murder.
Some serial killers enjoyed beating around the bush, or justifying their theories behind their work. Not Mimzy. Calling herself by what she was straight out the gate. Never making excuses for herself. Refusing the basic of emotions towards her victims- even rejecting regret. Mimzy knew what she was, why she did it; none of it numbing the feeling of happiness it provided. She did it out of pure spite. Anger. Killing off her costars one by one. Slitting their wrists and then their throats. Making sure to leave a calling card on each one's bathroom mirror. 'XOXO'. Sure the police investigated; coming to the club every time. Leaving just as frustrated as when they came in. Never being able to catch the suggested murderer due to evidence leading the investigation to paint the image of an unknown stalker. By the time victim five rolled around, they really thought this mysterious unknown may have had something to do with it.
Now, here Mimzy was. Keeping up her innocent charade. Her reflection endlessly bound to the mirror of her vanity. Locked away from everyone except Alice. A new singer who moved from California. Ever proving difficult to kill since the new arrival was a lot more careful than any woman had any right to be. Earing both Mim's respect and loathing. Mimzy's thoughts came to a tidy close with Alice's response.
"Trust me", Alice said again. "It'll be lovely." This time, she said it more softly. Mimzy gave a small 'hump' in response.
At the moment, the ladies were hanging out in Mim's dressing room. Currently it was quiet. Mim played with her dress and makeup. Preparing a look for tomorrow's show. It was a special event where men would get exclusive photos of their favorite performers. The club had four girls working that night. Each was supposed to wear something from around the world. Exclusively inspired by the strongest nation and its allies. Mimzy was going to be a propaganda idol. Flaring skirt that rose much higher than a flapper girls dress and all. On the other hand, Alice had decided to go for a French gypsy look. Telling the others, "I already have the perfect dress. I just need to see if it still fits."
Sometimes I don't know about this girl, Mim thought to herself. Shaking her head in her hand.
*#*
"As far as I'm concerned there is nothing to discuss", Aby stated firmly. "Being a talented singer doesn't make you the boss of me. Hell, I don't even care about your relationship with Alastor." The two had a split moment of silence. In it, they found their reaction to the last line Aby spoke. Mimzy shifted her gaze to the lower corner of her eye.
Aby breaking the silence with, "Now that I have had time to process everything."
Aby sat back in her chair. This time, it was her time to cross her arms. She was starting to get real tired of everyone's shit. The minute she steps into Hell, everyone wants a piece of her. For one reason or another. Okay; she was different. Yeah; she had a reputation that backed her powers. And so what if they didn't like her attitude? Who said she even liked it? Being independent was never meant to make you look like anything other than a lonely bitch anyways.
Not really anyway…
But no one ever talked about that little detail; did they?
Mimzy spoke again. "Brave words from a kid who never got her shit together."
Aby closed her eyes. Snuffing the other. Still listening. Still present. Just- defended. And starting to feel sick, again. She was used to being lectured after all. You would be too if you had had even one percent of number she did. It didn't mean she liked it, but she always listened. Otherwise she would never learn anything. About how the other party felt, or why they hated her. What they truly felt about her; small, little things that told her if the relationship was coming to an end. You could always read in between the lines if you just listened. The way people were meant to listen; to hear someone else. Though that didn't keep her from responding with a defensive remark either. Subsequently adding fuel to the fire.
Another thing you would also do if you were even half a percent in the amount of pain Aby was. Years of trying, failing, healing, moving, learning, trying, thinking, adapting, leaving, crying, bleeding, screaming, listening, trying, reading, talking, walking, fighting, writing, marking, trying. Over and over. Round 'n round. Year after year. Some humans couldn't even stand doing all that in a single decade. Here was Aby. Still torturing herself. Letting Mimzy finish. For no other reason past, 'It's the right thing to do…'
"I take it you don't sing in the human world anymore", Mimzy assumed. Fingering the zippo in her right hand. Warm from the time it spent in her cleavage. While Mim never looked away from the distorted reflection of Aby in its silvery coating. A reflection that had a suspicious face. Upset by being caught off-guard.
"Bet your wondering how I knew." It wasn't a question. "Well that's easy. You never had the desire to finish anything properly. You were to type that would try with everything you had. But the minute you got rejected- you took it personally. Like the world you had dreamed of and busted your rump for so valiantly, had told you this wasn't who you were inside."
Mimzy lit the zippo. Letting the flame burn in the palm of her hand. Moving her gaze to the source of heat and light. Sliding it in front of Aby's face as she continued.
"That it was who you were never gonna be. I bet you never stopped searching, though. But I gotta wonder sugar…." Aby didn't move. She stayed as stiff as a picture. Mimzy didn't expect her to. "….Did you ever find it?"
Mimzy slammed the zippo shut. Aby more concerned with the loud sh-link it had made upon the action. Wanting to fight Mimzy by this point in the conversation. Feeling it would have been easier. Easier to understand. And easier to shut her up. In the end, Aby did nothing. She sat there replaying every word over and over again. Waiting for Alastor to return. Pretty, quiet, and in her proper place. That's how she felt it was.
That's how she felt it should be…
*#*
An abundance of keys were played on the classic Ebony Steinway & Sons M grand piano. It was a newer model. The player was a dark skinned man, seated in the chair in front of it. Swaying his head left and right to the tune of the music. Flashing a sideways smirk from under his hat. His midnight purple suit and bright blue tie gave a pleasant contrast to the dimly light club. Everyone was already in a good mood. The room was filled with laughter and booze. Making it all the more enjoyable when it was time to watch the stage.
The third songstress of that tiny club in New York. Deep down a dark alley, just down a flight of steps on the left hand side. The only sign showing you were in the right place, was the red stained glass oil lantern burning next to a small sign. Swinging eerily against the brick wall behind it. Scrapping it. The painted words long washed away from the dripping water leaking out towards the alley from the rain gutters. Inside, the singers would make their impressions with customers' one on one. Gathering tips, cigarettes, or anything the gentlemen offered. Then hold a contest at the end of the night. Three rounds; each marking dancing, singing, and a talent. This particular gal enjoyed combining them if she could. She'd lose; but you always knew her when you saw her.
Her name was Alice. She was a lovely girl in her own right. A little different than the other stage girls. She was built. Almost masculine based on the opinion of others'. A much more working class physique. Thicker than most ladies. A body structure that was wider; taller too. A slight disadvantage in heels. Her hair was her only saving grace. Being long, dark, and shimmering like glass under the spot light. Most estimated she came from a wealthy family. Since her clothes were from all over the place. But mostly because while she wore down the easily replaceable street clothes, the more formal wear was well made and very custom fit. She was young too. Barely old enough to be legal, perhaps. Exciting her older callers. The women figured it explained why she could waste so much time with her life singing.
She must be using daddy's money, they would think. Out fishing for a husband as most girls her age should be. One she could get into the will with.
Alice didn't mind. She had heard it all before. It was her time now. Time to take the microphone in hand and show off what she'd learned. Occasionally giving a good show. Favoring having fun above all else. This time around was no different. Taking the American crowd by surprise when she began to sing in German.
"Ich bin die fesche Lola, der Liebling der Saison. Ich hab' ein Pianola zu Haus' in mein' Salon. Und will mich wer begleiten da unten aus dem Saal. Dem hau' ich in die Seiten und tret' ihm aufs Pedal."
Alice cha-cha'd across the stage. Tangling her legs in the microphone cord. Spinning and kicking up her legs like a French cancan dancer. Using her dress to parade the skin of her thick thighs peeking through the fishnet leggings strapped to a hidden garter belt. Flirting with the sailors in the back row hanging out at the bar. Blowing kisses or jumping over props on the stage.
Leaving the group of drunks eating out the palm of her hand. Alice had so much energy, she rejuvenated anyone who watched her preform. Getting into the music and releasing all their problems. At the end of her routine, Alice hoped next to the music man at the piano. Taking over a solo before concluding the song with an enthusiastic press of the final notes. Ending the song abruptly in what Alice figured to be a cartoonish way. She preferred fast and easy to slow and long. Said it left her watchers on a high note. Keeping them on that high feeling.
The fellows erupted in a euphoric applause. Cutting her some slack since some didn't know what German sounded like and others figured her too stupid to know what she just sang; mocking the enemy in the process. When she was done with her bow, Alice ran backstage. Sticking a leg out from behind the curtain. Upon the men shouting out their delight, Alice gave it an excited wiggle. Pulling it back fast. The men ever grateful for another promiscuous performance.
Mim came up to her. Letting Alice bask in her glorious seven minutes of fame and fun. Having figured out quickly that Alice was more about quality then quantity. And knowing she loved quantity too, Mim showed mercy. Deciding not to scold her too harshly for knowing multiple languages. If anything, Alice was guilty of thinking the country of origin didn't matter as long as the song caught people's attention. That's how the "Finland incident" occurred.
Either way, Mimzy met her just past the curtain. Taking Alice by surprise.
"What's the matter with you?" The older female gave a demanding, lecturing tone that matched the flick of her hand going upside Alice's head. Thwacking her in the back of the head, right on the hard part of her skull.
Alice rubbed at it with a sheepish giggle. "Oh come ooooon. It's an easy song to sway to for drunks. What's the harm?"
"The harm is that one day a copper is gonna be in here. And he's gonna take you away. You dumb flapper bitch."
"Just one step away from a dead one- am I right?"
"Keep it up and you just might be."
Alice just laughed. Mim found herself having to ask. "You do know you could have sung the English version instead, right?"
"Ahem", a man's voice said over the banter.
The ladies turned to face the source of the sudden distraction. Seeing a tall, handsome man standing before them. Alice smiled warmly. He was an Englishman who she had seen in a far corner of the club. She had had her eye on him throughout the night. Unable to get to him since the newest gal had been working him up all night. Alice never imagined he come to meet her. Mimzy straightened out before making a mad dash to the dressing room area.
Alice greeted the stranger. As expected, he was charming and polite. They spoke for a short minute. Alice guiding him to the part of the back where one could find her dressing room at the end of a show. The group room sandwiched between the two rooms that belonged to Alice and Mim. Alice earned hers when she proved she wasn't the kind to leave without saying a word. Mimzy had told her it was because the uncertainty of the times had made it difficult for women to devote themselves to the craft. Alice did; so she got the only other room available. This was the first time she got to take a fan to her space. Alice was excited. Meanwhile, Mimzy had taken off to her own room.
Alice walked him to her door. However when Aby went up to him ready to take him by the hand, he asked about Alice's friend. Alice was wide eyed. Though not surprised.
"I'm sorry, I think I misunderstood. I thought you came to see me."
"Don't take it hard old girl. It's just that I have other business to attend to. So I wanted to meet her before I must go. She's more my type anyway."
Not my type, too young, too old, not endearing enough; Alice had heard it all. Just more and more round-a-bout ways of saying they were not attracted to her. Often silently mocking her when she was put in this position. They never had to tell her, she knew it. Always given away when the little bell chimed. When she was finally sought out, it was always by the same type. Someone who hadn't had any company for their urges and liked how shapely she was. Someone who wanted to be doted on without having to do anything in return. Creeps, losers, home wreckers, brain less, undignified and perverted in the least fun way. Alice felt so angry. Humiliated. Dejected.
Unhappy…
Quick to recover from yet another disappointment, Alice stated it was Mimzy he wanted. The man looked confused. After clarifying herself, the gentlemen repeated how he wanted to speak with her instead. Pulling a bouquet from behind his back. Aby led him to her superior's room. Leaving before she opened the door. Watching from behind a curtain. Scolding herself as the same old routine unfolded.
Should have known, she thought.
Every time there was a traveler, they flocked to the prettiest girl in the biz. This time it was the Englishman who wrote stories. Before that, it had been a Frenchman painter. Before that, a doctor from Italy. Though that particular go-around, everyone got a small piece of him. Italian men were just that way. He was charming, but was clearly not planning to keep any of the promises he made. It was a nice change. Especially since it gave Alice the illusion of what to wish for in a mate. All the things on an insignificant list of desires and hopes. The ideals of partnership and connection that came with the safety of understanding. For a week- it was everything she had ever wondered about.
The best dream I ever had, she mentally deduced. Feeling she would never know it. Having decided long ago, that she was just made differently.
From everyone…
*#*
Alastor stood close to the door. Mimzy was sitting beside Aby, who was now lying on the couch in the performer's dressing room. The color had finally began to return to her face. Mimzy brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Letting her fingers drag through the rest that hung down the edge of the pillow resting under Aby's head. Looking like a dark colored waterfall. A soft glow of blue bouncing off it from the dim lights in the room.
During their conversation, Aby fell unconscious from fatigue. It didn't help matters that she had tried to get drunk from a few shots she snuck while Alastor wasn't looking. Needing the liquid courage to face a mysterious place.
Stupid girl, Mimzy thought to herself.
Years of partnership taught Mimzy that Alastor hated this sort of thing. It was foolish and embarrassing. So it was nothing short of a shock when Alastor had come back to the table. Practically running when the crowd gathered around Aby's knocked out form. Though most were males who were trying to cop-a feel before anyone could help her. Luckily, the crowd quickly dispersed when they saw the infamous Radio Demon making his way over. Mimzy's jaw almost dropped when Alastor, though not pleased with the reason for such a display, tried to be understanding. Swooping her up into her arms. Taking her to a more private area. Tending to her before growing into acceptance. Acceptance of what Aby had done, why she had done it, and then to the unknown amount of time needed to recover. Mimzy couldn't believe what she was seeing.
She didn't want to. Particularly if it meant that Aby was able to get away with it. It didn't matter what kind of Samaritan she showed herself to be for the sake of a pipe dream like rehabilitating demons; she was the same girl she had always been. The one Mimzy had always known her to be. Rational, collected, calm, considerate. At the same time: Emotional, impulsive, condescending, selectively strict and uprooted. Mimzy found herself arguing back and forth on how to proceed. On the one hand, she was pissed. On the other, she was anxious. Eager to see Aby awake again to watch the scene between the two known lovers to unfold. Eventually- due to the stress, mostly- Mimzy started smoking a cigarette as part of an old habit.
Alastor was the one who became intrigued now. Letting out a sound that was a strange hybrid of a scoff and a chuckle. He wasted no time in asking, "What kind of habit would be worth endangering your heavenly voice?"
Mimzy stayed quiet for a moment. Starring at the ground, back to Aby, then back to the ground again. Breathing long, soft takes of air. Explaining, "Someone very special to me."
"How interesting", Alastor cooed. "Just whom could take such a place in your heart?"
"You don't know her", Mimzy stated plainly. "She was the only costar I never killed."
"A treat indeed-y."
Mimzy said nothing as she blew a puff of smoke from her mouth. A slow, controlled, outward breath that left her mouth in the shape of an O. Mimzy turned her head, slightly tilting it to one side. Blinking as she gazed at Alastor. His only response being to ask if there was something on his face.
Mimzy couldn't help herself. She said, "What would it take to steal you away from a place like this?"
Alastor gave a polite but disgusted toothy smile at the songstress. "Don't take it hard old girl. But absolutely nothing you, yourself, are capable of. She's far more my type", he used his head to signal to Aby's unconscious form. "I still think of you as a worthy alley, though."
Mimzy stayed silent. She gave a sweet, amused smile before turning back to face Aby. Making sure Alastor couldn't see her face from the angle he was standing at. Then it dropped to a hateful look filled with pain and a promise of death.
Alice took it like a champ every time, she thought. I couldn't imagine how hard it was for her until now. She took a long drag of her cigarette. In spite of all that- I refuse to take it lying down the way she did. Mimzy starred hard at Aby's emotionless face. Maybe if you could have fought a little harder, you would have beaten me. Just once…
Mimzy felt the sting in her eyes. Her mouth tightening. Fighting hard due to not wearing waterproof mascara.
If you could have just gotten mad… you might not have had to suffer so much. I don't pity you in the slightest. But I don't admire you at all, either.
*#*
"Girls! Come with me!"
Alice and Mim had gotten out of their seats in the group dressing room. Doing as they were told, they walked fast behind Mr. Conjurske. Not sure what was happening. Not having enough time to ask questions. Instead they both decided to trust the man since telling them here didn't matter to them. It was one of those 'move now, questions later' type of situations. They made it all the way to his office up stairs before they were allowed to catch their breath. Once all three made it in the room, the door was locked, the curtains were drawn, and the white male too his seat.
"Listen, I gotta tell you something about what's been going on in that Negro Wall street place", he explained.
The ladies stood opposite the desk, waiting for him to finish before they interrupted. Both were nervous. Rumors had kicked up all over the country about this community that had sprung up. Due to its context, information was limited. Controlled. However, there were plenty of lines getting around amongst the community. Prejudice was a slow and long battle. But those who wanted change, had their ways. This club was no exception. Often working as a railroad pit stop courtesy of Alice. She had been missing work a lot and Mim had caught her out back by the dumpsters paying off coyotes.
"Word is- some young black man named Dick Rowland was riding in the elevator with a white woman named Sarah Page. She accused him of raping her."
"Oh sweet Jesus", Mim cursed. Alice shot Mim a short glance. One that said, 'really?' The owner ignored it and asked, "Where?"
"Drexel Building. At Third and Main."
"You're from there, right", Alice added. Looking at the elder performer.
Mim took a moment to sigh in thought, "No- but close."
He opened a drawer. From it he pulled out a rolled up newspaper. He slapped it in the pal of his hand a couple times, contemplating his next action. In the end, he handed the newspaper to the girls. Confirming with them if they knew anybody there. Keeping a grip on it until they both got an honest answer from them. When the girls said nothing, he spoke again.
"Doesn't matter. Tell anyone who'll listen to get the hell outta town until this blows over. If it doesn't turn into a hunt, it'll end in a pile of flames and ash. Or worse."
Again, the ladies didn't speak. Mr. Conjurske got up and made his way to the door. Struggling to turn the knob. His shoulders slumped over in desertedness. Eventually, he found his gusto. He left the two there. Mim was about to rip the paper up when Alice took it from her hands. Studying the article repeatedly. Mim saw the color fade from the other's face. Shaking her head, she tried to snatch it back.
"I'm going."
"What", Mim shouted at her. Genuinely confused as to what was going through Alice's mind.
Alice instantly regretted saying anything. Now her back was in a corner. Alice wanted to explain things, but felt there was no way she could. The reality was that while Mim may have formed an idea of what she thought Alice was planning the truth was far harder. Knowing she had to leave because she had been around too long. Mim would never buy it. Even if Alice explained what she knew about Mim. Even if she told Mim what life really was to her. Mim would never listen. That's when Mim spoke again.
"Are you crazy? What's this got to do with you?"
"Nothing its just-…"
"Exactly! Nothing! And besides- as much as I would love to get rid of you- we have other things here. You know so many people. Think of the life you could have."
"I know people there too."
"Oh, really? Who?"
Alice paused for a moment. "No one you would know. But- trust me, I don't have a choice in this."
That was it. The elder flapper's face went from a deep, angered red to a ghost pale. Drained of its belief just as it had been drained of its color. Of all the ways their paths would separate- Why like this? Mim realized she can't stop her. The only thing she wanted to do in this moment, and she was even denied that right.
Alice always does this, she angrily thought. Though- maybe angry wasn't the right way to describe it.
"Just promise me you won't do anything too crazy. I'm fully aware prevention of representing your damned stupidity is unavoidable. But- well, you know."
"Yeah…I know."
Alice and Mim shared a brief, but strong hug. Mim had nothing left in her home state. And she had no intention of ever going back. Alice was different. She could go anywhere if it meant getting to do something she hadn't done yet. She was her own stage. Never calling for the final curtain until it was time to move again. All those dresses and songs to show for it. In the end, Mim was happy- as well as disappointed- she didn't get the chance to kill her fellow singer.
Instead, she just sat and waited. Three days later, news got out about the Tulsa Race Massacre. At the time, it was estimated about 800 were injured and 36 were presumed dead. It would be decades before the numbers went up into the thousands. The true horrors of that night put under a microscope for all to know of the terrible things mankind was capable of. Though none of that mattered to Mim. Because she didn't need to hear about any of it. Not the three nights of terror. Not the thirty-five city blocks that had been turned to ash and cinders. Something that she would later joke about whenever she remembered Mr. Conjurske's words. Fuck, Mim didn't even care about the final verdict for one poor sucker who was in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong white woman.
The only number that mattered to Mim was: one. One confirmed death. One single female thought to be in her early twenties. With long length dark hair; glistening under the lights of the flames. She was presumed dead after a building collapsed. According to witnesses, a pair of siblings had been left alone in their apartment while their mother went to work. They were left alone due to her being single and raising them on her own with no hope for affording a babysitter. The fire spreading too fast for anyone to go in and get them. Except that one. After the incident, they had nicknamed her the Ember Siren, since she had had the reputation of lulling the children to sleep by singing to them in the designated shelters before the fires spread.
Not always doing so in English, either.
Mim sang her hardest the next two weeks. Each time seemed a little less hard. She even learned that stupid German pub song Alice used to sing. Not that it was her style- so she changed it up a bit. Singing it to the crowd on the anniversary…then again on Alice's birthday. It would be a long time before anyone heard her song.
Mimzy could still remember that night. It wasn't more than ten years after coming down to Hell. She had long since established herself as a sing queen. Keeping up appearances and traditions she had taken a favor to while alive. Getting a surprise visit from the main lord of the territory: The Radio Demon. He came in on the anniversary. Sitting thought the show without ordering anything. Sipping on an ice water as he took in the club around him. Once all was said and done, he took the opportunity to get to know Mimzy after the show. Starting off the conversation the way many men did.
"That was a very interesting song you closed on. Is it German?"
"Yes. I learned it from someone who passed by the club I owned post being a Hell-bent", she stated. Flattered by the attention.
"I seeee," he brought his head to rest against his fingers. Lost in thought. "And- what was her name, exactly."
Mimzy was taken aback. No one ever cared to hear the whole story before. Having to think fast so she didn't stumble over her words. "Oh, well. Alice", she admitted. "Her name was Alice."
Alastor smiled bigger than before. Satisfied by the answer. Clearly expecting nothing less than the name he was given. Which is why it made Mimzy furrow her brow when he ended their meeting with, "I do hope we can all get together sometime. It would be ashamed if my darling didn't get to see how far you went to learn such a fun piece in her memory."
Alice had no daaarling, Mimzy repeated over and over in her head. No man ever picked Alice over me. Though she disapproved of the demon's request, Mimzy still found herself nodding her head approvingly. Wanting to be soothed by the charm of such a fine young man a little while longer. Maybe once he saw how powerful Mimzy was in her own right, he would be hers. She could finally have a diligent, dependable, and seditious partner in her life who made her redefine the definition of sin.
A girl can dream…
*#*
"I never knew", Mimzy said with a dazed expression. Staring blankly at Aby's face.
"What's that?"
Alastor had now been squatting quietly next to Aby on the couch. Calculating the best way to pick her up as he was ready to take his leave. Figuring it best not to leave her there. Aby was now seated up. Her upper body leaned against him tiredly. Not fully present, yet not quite asleep either. Lost somewhere in limbo between the two states. Mimzy watched the scene play out. Finishing her thought out loud just as it had started. Snuffing the last bit of her cigarette out on a tray.
"That I didn't actually lose one of the only friends I ever knew that year."
Though Mimzy would never admit it. She grieved for Alice terribly. Even growing sloppy in her clean-ups. Resulting in a homicide investigation or two up towards the end. Not to mention so bad choices. Well- worse choices. She wasn't proud of it. Especially now that she understood why Alice had faked her death that year. Mimzy then felt a separate thought cross her mind.
What would have happened if she had stayed? What if Alice had just told me what she was? Would she still have gone? Would I have ever seen her again?
Mimzy glanced back to the Radio Demon once more. Keeping her gaze on him. Taking him in with every slide of her vision. His breathing, his fangs, and every part of him she could see. Fueling her obsession. In the midst of her starring, she allowed her mind to wonder. Thinking back to earlier in the evening. How Aby got up from the table. Basically threatening Mimzy. Alice had never once fought back when men came a-calling. She didn't whine or bitch. Not even showing any signs of being bothered by the lack of worship. Mimzy was even willing to bet her life that Alice didn't harbor any ill will when she felt jealous. After all, it was natural for a girl to want that connection.
To feel cheated when one wasn't desirable in the way they wanted to be. Alice may have wanted someone to love her, but surely it could have been anyone. Who'd have thought that for every one man that came through, Alastor would put a hundred- no, a thousand of them to shame. Alice never spoke to Mim how she wanted the men who chose the other instead. On the other hand, Mim never got the chance to even try to make Alastor hers. She had lost. Long before the game even started. And whether it was Alice or Aby that beat her, she had no clue. So much had changed.
The night ended on a low note. With Alastor taking his leave via a portal made from Aby's magic. Aby hanging limp in his arms. Mimzy felt her eyebrow twitch when she saw how he carried her bridal style. Quickly after she put on her stage persona, Mimzy gave a flirty smile, partnered with a cheery finger wave. When the last of the portal light disappeared, Mimzy dropped her hand to her side. Her flirty expression melting to a distant smirk.
"I don't know if it was what you were looking for, Alice. But you found something worthwhile", Mimzy took a deep breath before concluding her last spoken thought of the evening, "And I wish more than anything that I had found him first."