It was past ten when the club closed, much to the disappointment of its customers. The workers stayed for an extra hour or so, to clean and set everything up to be ready for the next night. Stella was now wearing her usual waitressing uniform. She was still buzzing from the excitement of her debut. According to her boss, she had stirred up the audience, even more than the Vixen ever could "Stella, you still with us darlin?"
A hand floated in front of her face, Stella batted it away and laughed, her eyes fixing onto the face of her fellow waitress, Diana. "Yeah I'm here, just thinking."
Diana rolled her doughy brown eyes. They landed on the purple rose, which Stella had wrapped up in a wet newspaper. "From an admirer I assume, look out Vixen may come after you."
Stella playfully slapped her friend on the shoulder. "I ain't enough to rival her, also that little bitty would be worried about breaking a nail."
The woman's voice was laced with a hint of New York, but it there was something else in there. It had the undertone of an English accent. But it seemed to mix with the slang that Stella had picked up from the locals. She came to New Orleans in the hopes of finding a better job, compared to New York, this dusty place was calmer and tad more cheery. Something that was an improvement, Stella had been raised here as a child. But her father's business took them to New York. Shortly after he died, Stella worked hard to earn enough money to return to her home town. She had only been home for half a year. And she was pleased to be back. Even though she was currently residing in a small flat in town and living humbly, there was more of a skip in her step and her eyes were far brighter than ever. And now with the thought of a sudden raise in her pay, which meant she would be doing what she loved every night. Stella was ready to burst into tears of joy.
Though this city was warm during the day, the nights were chilly. Stella tucked herself further into the regions of her jacket as she made her way home, alone. As she walked, her heels clicked against the gravel in an almost uneven fashion. Stella inwardly groaned she should have brought another pair of shoes with her. These shoes were meant to be danced in, not be worn all over the place. Her feet were suffering for her assumption at the comfort of dance shoves on streets.
Finally making it home, Stella fished in her bag for her keys as she made her way up a small flight of stairs to the second level. Reaching her door, she shoved her keys into the lock. Twisting it, the door sprang open, entering her humble abode flicking on the lights. Stella threw herself down onto an old somewhat moth eaten couch, and proceeded to remove her cramped feet from her shoes. Within seconds she had shimmied out of her waitress garb. With a hint of reluctance, Stella got up and made her way over to the bed nearby. The apartment was quaint, small, a single large room, small bathroom, and a kitchen just a few steps away from the couch and bed. There was a good sized window, which over looked the city. A rather enjoyable view, as to enjoy it more, Stella had set a small wooden table next to the window.
Throwing on the ratty nightgown, Stella glanced out the window at the lights of the crescent city, the metropolis that that never slept. Even after ten it was alive, of course it was nothing compared to New York, but still the energy of the people was impressive. Smiling, Stella walked over to the small stove top in the back of the apartment. On one of the burners sat an empty tea pot; which was half full with water that she had boiled last night.
As the water began to slowly come to a boil, Stella finally focused her attention on her dance partner's gift. Removing the now dry newspaper, she placed it in a small vase filled with cold water. Smiling she placed it on the small side table next to her bed. Stella's eye widened when the purple rose slowly blossomed, causing it to release a pleasant but faint aroma. She stared at it, not fully sure that this rose was normal. The tea pot began to whistle. Tearing Stella's attention away from the strange flower, a minute later, the young woman was sitting on her bed a book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. However she remained completely unaware that the rose had somehow moved itself, into a position, as if it were watching her.
On the other side of town, within the confines of a dark Emporium, dark spider like hands danced across a fogged orb. Violet eyes watched the image that slowly came into focus. Facilier's smile broadened. There she sat, oblivious to the fact that his gift was his way of observing her. The rose simply needed fresh water to bring it to life, he inwardly sighed. Though he considered himself a gentleman of sorts, he felt slightly disappointed that he was missed Ms. Able's change from her work attire to her nightgown. She looked so innocent, relaxed with a cup of tea and a book. An interesting choice in literature; a collection of Sherlock Holmes's many adventures, the girl had taste. The good Doctor watched as Stella brought her cup up to lips for another sip. Her lips were so alluring; her parents must have been a mixed race couple. Illegal they may be, but if one of her parent's skins had been light enough to pass for a very dark tan. The family could have gotten away with it. But those lips didn't like, they were as full as any black woman's.
This little charade lasted for about an hour, until Stella finished off her tea and put her book down. Leaning forward, over the rose, she turned out the light. In that brief moment, Facilier could have taken the chance to see what lay under that shabby nightgown. But the Doctor did not feel like that little peek would be justified. No, if he wanted to see Stella in that light, oh he needed to earn it. So when she leaned forward, Facilier turned away, giving Stella her unknown privacy. When he looked back, he could just make out the silhouette of her relaxed form. Smiling, Facilier moved her hands away, allowing the crystal orb to go black. As he retired for the night, Facilier made plans to start frequenting "The Swing."