Monday Sneak Peek: Noir (Patreon)

This sneak peek picks ups as Julia and David hit up Noir, the trendy bar near work, after their day out shopping. They're there for a singular purpose: to pick up a man for Cindy and bring him back to Julia's. Tomorrow: a piece of fanart by Fraylim capturing a surprise moment at the bar....

***

That night, we looked hot. Or rather, Julia did, crimson halter top maxi dress, bare back criss-crossed by slender straps, gold chain belt, and those Byzantium earrings and bracelets gifted by a foreign lover. I looked—cheap?—next to her, flashy and younger certainly—as I fidgeted in a sparkly, sequined miniskirt over fishnet thigh highs paired with that bustier—underwear as outer. Her makeup was bold, mine was brash; her earring classy, mine were dangling purple hoops. Julia presented as mature and confident , and I was the over-compensating little sister barely in control of the flirty signals she flashed.

            “This isn’t fair,” I hissed, perched opposite her at our table. We were at Noir, the first bar I’d ever visited as Cindy. She knew that; she also knew it was a popular pick-up haunt for men with money to flash and aspirational girls looking to hook their claws into a success story. Over the months I'd become a semi-regular here, though not so often with the girls. It wasn’t really their kind of place. Willow felt out of place, it made Mel angry, and Emma had bad memories of an awful night here. Me? I kinda loved it.

            “Why?”

            “Why?” I couldn’t keep the incredulity out of my voice. “Look at me.  I look….” I searched for the word: “indecent.”

            She laughed. “How very classist of you. I didn’t realise Cindy was such a snob.”

            “Fine. Cheap, then.”

            “Like an office assistant on minimum pay?”

            I glared at her. “Very funny, Jules. I’m poor, not cheap. You could’ve let me—”

            “What?”

            “Pick—” a dozen better outfits jumped to mind, and I flushed under my makeup. My foundation was too heavy, bordering on orange and left a carrot-coloured crescent at the nape of my neck, beneath the taut pull of hair drawn up into a high ponytail. My lips felt tacky. Purple plastic bangles the colour of my nails clinked against the table. And that fucking choker she’d fixed at my neck! It was all so embarrassing. “I dunno. A dress. Something pretty.”

            “You want to wear a dress?” Her smile grew. “Do my ears betray me? David Saunders wishes he wore a pretty dress on a night out. What, something slinky? Or flowing? Maybe a nice mini?”

            “What you’re wearing would do fine.”

            “Well, too bad.”         

            “I feel ridiculous,” I grumbled, and fluttered press-on eyelashes. They were too long, heavy with glittery mascara and driving me fucking crazy. It was all I could do to resist peeling them off my lids then and there, though I probably would’ve stabbed my eyes out with those tacky press-on nails.
            “Good,” she stated flatly. “You’re twenty, it’s about fucking time you start dressing and acting like it. You’ve still steeped in the privilege of a thirty-nine-year-old man. You’re not some classy lady on her way to the opera. You’re a goddamn kid! You should be experimenting, pushing boundaries. Following trends and trying to impress. You should be filled with constant anxiety and still figuring out who the hell you are.”

            She stood, leaving me perched on my stool. “I’m going to buy us some drinks. You sit there, and stick those D-cup titties out, and flash a pretty smile at any dreamy men that wander by.” The stubborn petulance she saw in my glare made her pause. “I mean it. I’ll be watching from the bar. Now lick your lips and make eye contact with someone.”
            “Fuck you,” I muttered under my breath after she was gone. “I’m still a C-cup.” Julia’s fucked-up, anxiety-fuelled childhood had me living out her memories, and I didn’t like it one bit. Living as a girl was one thing, but… this? I stretched out my fingers, fanning too-long, too bright nails. Then I hooked those too-tall heels into the stool, arched my back, licked my lips and looked around.