Ah, the winter nightlife.
Even as the sun bid farewell, the darkness of the nighttime sky assuaged any feelings of weariness from the day as the city came to life in the starry night's embrace. The roads, well-traveled and coated in patches of soft snow, were filled with cars of all shapes and sizes, lights of red and orange dotting the asphalt expanse. To either side, I could see towers and fortresses of concrete given luminance by warm lamplights and glistening festive decor—not a shadowed corner in sight as the metropolis bathed in the brilliant veil. Groups of night owls prowled the streets and sidewalks, covered in heavy garments and with misty breaths, accepting the moon's invitation to roam where its beams fell. I enjoyed these sights from the comfort of the familiar steel chariot whose engine whirred with a mechanical hum as the air within was heated to combat the encroachment of the October cold.
We were on the path towards downtown, an irony as the buildings only grew higher and higher as we did. Towers pierced the indigo void, their sheer scale impossible to fully understand from the low angle we cruised from. We were headed to a fine-dining restaurant in the area, a popular spot with a price tag that matched its fame. Reservations were tricky to find, let alone book, but our clients managed to sneak one in during its most busy hour—dinner service. It really was quite the spot. Searching for its name would lead to countless sites listing it as a must-visit, a surprise considering it catered to the high-brow demographic. The name was Tre Venti, a restaurant built on the foundation of age-old European flavors with a style and presentation that matched the modern landscape of the metropolitan paradise.
Even so, I'll admit that there has been one thing I've omitted from these lengthy descriptions of my beloved city, one that would become fully visible as we turned a corner and my eyes fell upon its glow.
The roaring waves that ate the dusk-sun were not the only body of water nearby, "It's really frozen over, huh?" The car drove onto a bridge, and beyond the scaffolding, I could see the fragmented ice sheets that listlessly floated on the water's surface.
Heh. Bridger on a bridge.
"Indeed. Quite early, may I add." My partner replied, the sight and her voice of similar temperatures.
A river ran through one half of the city, kissed by the salt-lined tides upon its farmost edge. Many establishments made their home next to it as the view was nothing short of serene. The water ran pristine in the warmer months, a deep shade akin to sapphire that reflected the countless lights during the evening - looking like an artificial twilight sky. However, during the winter, the channel took on a shade between jade and turquoise, with heavy layers of frost emerging from its surface and cracking to create a white jigsaw puzzle that reflected the surrounding luminance like a polished mirror. Even so, the season mattered little, as it really was a stunning natural monument in the otherwise urbanized town.
Speaking of, we were now on our way from the shoreline, dressed to the nines as Lily's beauty proved only a match to the keenness of her fashion-savvy eye. I brought the visor down, slid the mirror open, and looked at her labor that was literally plastered on top of my face. Any and all tackiness was quickly remedied by the siren, even deciding to mess with my hair as she prepped us for the outing. My black locks were pomaded and slicked back, a few tufts jutting out to give it an added charm. Regrettably, the two also had the remaining bits of my stubble shaved, leaving me smooth-faced, albeit looking younger than I recalled.
As for my ensemble, she helped me pick out an ebony duet consisting of a velvety turtleneck and satin slacks—boasting a shade like a shadow that clung to my body. The articles were surprisingly well-fitted to me, but it was far from the statement piece. Draped over my top was a supple overcoat dyed with a rich, wine-like burgundy as it reached above my knees.
I've never been one to boast about my barely above-average looks and dated fashion sense. But I had to admit, I looked pretty good today. Of course, I was only one part of the equation here.
I thought as I turned to my left - my partner similarly donning a suitably cherry-picked outfit that tended to her charms well. Winter outfits were, as you'd expect, an obvious match for her.
She wore a turtleneck of a similar fabric to mine, this one of a taupe gray that created a gradient with the ashen strands that rested on it, with a small cutout that partially revealed her pale collarbone. Below this, wide-cut cedar trousers rose all the way up to her waist, underscoring her figure. Finally, it was finished with a sleek Chesterfield coat with a natural and dull olive green, the blend of warm and cool tones carrying an unmatched grace. Her hair remained wave-like, sterling tresses forming a hypnotic crown that sat above a noble visage with gemstone eyes - hints of a tender viola fragrance surrounding her air.
Uhm...Bridger? You have a job, remember?
Oh, right.
I shook my head and exhaled a soundless breath before distracting myself with some last-minute preparations, "Their last message said they were on the way, right?"
"Yeah, but we're close by anyway," Myla assured, her driving as usual smooth, "How are you feeling?"
"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow at her query, admittedly happy to hear it, "I'm alright, I guess. Leave it to Alex's pep-talk to wash away a lot of the doubt, huh?"
"Then we're more or less aligned in our thoughts." She admitted, a faint but lingering nervousness in her voice, "Either way, if it takes feigning confidence to ensure Gale listens to us, then we'll just have to adjust, no?"
"Yep. It wouldn't be the craziest thing we've had to do." I remarked, my elbow on the door's armrest as I placed my head above my hand and looked out into the window, " Hopefully, it turns out fine." My eyes dotted from building to building, but my mind was too preoccupied to observe much.
"It's best we do more than hope," My partner began, drawing my eyes to her voice, "We're here to make it happen." And while it grew no more than an inch, the subtle curve of her lips made it hard not to feel affirmed and ready.
I snickered, perhaps to cope with the tension or at Myla's amusing but appreciated expression, "Will do, ma'am." And as our exchange concluded, we had arrived right on time.
The building stood tall, but there was no shortage of structures that still eclipsed it, some even on the same street. What made it unique was its design. The place looked almost like a ten-story lamp. Windows lined every wall up to its corners, each exuding a dull honey-hued light. A red-bricked outer wall contained it, along with the outdoor areas and parking. The second floor was particularly distinct as that was where the restaurant was—the glass panes were grander and shaped in complex geometric patterns.
Myla drove us through the entrance, a large gilded gate between the walls, finding us a spot to park amidst the crowd of other cars, "So this is where we'll settle things? It's quite the stage to perform on." I noted as she found a spot off to the side beneath a lampost and by some shrubbery.
"With you on it, it's less a play, more of a circus." Multitasking, she took a jab at me as she turned around to park.
"At least you admit I'm funny." Not one to accept the perfectly valid insult, I turned it into an unearned compliment.
The vehicle stopped as the handbrake was pulled, its engine calming and lights dimming as we waited. It was hard to get a good view of the restaurant as we were more or less directly below it, only giving us a clear view of the first floor as people came to and fro. Jackets, dresses, and some even enjoyed the formal air of suits - the place bringing out one's Sunday's best no matter the date.
My eyes continued to peruse the space before my ears were pricked by a sudden chill, "Ah, I forgot to apply some bronzer." The unfamiliar word stuck out, making me turn to her as she fumbled through her handbag.
Bronzer..? I think I recall hearing that from Amanda whenever she'd get ready for an outing, which means...
I pulled down her visor, opening the mirror, which triggered the indoor light to turn on, "I'm guessing it's makeup, but what does it do?"
"It adds warm accents to your face. Lily and I forgot to apply some before we left and..." Her words trailed off to a stop, her eyes squinting as she continued to rummage through her belongings.
"I see, I see." I said with a chuckle, "Makes sense then. Of all the people I know, you're definitely one to need some warming up, my lovably cold companion." I leaned to her side of the car with a grin, but she budged nary an inch instead, furrowing her brow and resigning a long sigh.
"It's because you tease me so much that I'm using some in the first place...Ugh, it's still a little dark..." We tended to throw verbal punches at each other without pause, but her reaction to the latest product of Blaithe Humor Incorporated,
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Seemed to have irked her a fair bit more than usual. Admittedly, Myla's become more self-conscious as of late—at least, that's how I saw it. I always believed she was effortless in her presentation and that her charms came naturally from her looks and blasé nature. Maybe I was giving her too much credit, even if I felt my descriptions never do her the justice I think she deserves. But I guess even she had outings where she wanted to look good, and tonight just happened to be one of those nights.
Well, I guess she's also been paying attention to some of my comments...Which is...kinda cute.
I organized my thoughts and resolved myself, an apology in order as I admitted fault, "I tend to make jokes about it, but I don't mean it in a bad way," I didn't look at her as I spoke, a reaction done out of a mixture of guilt and embarrassment that ran through my mind, "We've met a lot of warm and energetic people on our outings, some even bordering on eccentric, but you stand out quite a whole lot, at least to me." Combining both amends and praise, I spoke with slow and mumbled words as my gaze focused on nothing in particular.
The sounds of her searching came to a stop following my words—heck, even the drone of the car became so faint that a pin drop would deafen you. The silence slowly crept its way into my nerves as the thought of me worsening the already sour mood entered my thoughts, causing me to turn to her with anxiety welling up in my throat.
"...Alright, yeah. I'm sorry abou-" But when I directed my eyes toward her, all traces of that emotion were whisked away.
Her hands were still, holding what seemed to be a case of brown powder. She had her eyes opened wide, brows nearly to her forehead with a rosy glow not from her blush but one that reached even to her ears.
Uh oh, I don't think that came out right. Quick! Activate Damage Control Mechanisms to full throttle! I haven't used this technique since my high school days.
"Oh! What I mean is your natural skin color looks good even without the use of products that do nothing but make women feel self-conscious and create unfair beauty standards by catering to the belief that the baseline for an attractive appearance necessitates the use of makeup all for the sake of profiting off the insecurities and vulnerabilities of people." I blabbed on instinct, spouting nonsense that was only a little more ridiculous than what I usually said, "...So, uh, don't worry so much...You look great, honestly." I followed with reassurance, my eyes staring right at her with no less than the literal word panic tattooed on my face.
Wow, I now remember why I left that on the shelf since high school.
But instead of a scalding or an exasperated remark, what happened was certainly puzzling. Myla's eyes suddenly narrowed, and her cheeks puffed up as it sounded like something got caught in her throat. That was until she hunched over, her hands trembling as she let out...a laugh.
Uh oh, part two. I think I broke my partner.
The regal elegance she practically breathed began to melt away as a melodic string of notes came from her opened mouth. Her eyes fully closed, and her hair fluttered gently with each hearty chuckle she emitted.
"You really don't know how to compliment a girl on a date, huh?" She tried to speak through her fit, one eye open and a hand covering her lips as her expression turned bright enough to replace the moon.
A smile slowly replaced my surprise, only to quickly open again to share in her delight—not quite how I expected to resolve things, but a pleasant outcome nonetheless.
After a few moments composing ourselves, I exited the car first, placing my feet upon the bricked path that sounded with the cracking of ice—the winter breeze quickly engulfing my entire being. I stood still for around half a minute, hearing the second door's hinges move but no footfalls following. Confused, I walked to the other side of the car only to see Myla busily fixing herself - this time with tall heels of oak in her grasp.
She briefly glanced at me before lowering her head, "Apologies. I couldn't drive with them on, so I'm just swapping. You can go ahead and-"
"Ah, lemme help then." Crouching down, I took the pair from her hands and undid the straps, to which she accepted my offer with a tiny nod.
I realized early on that we guys take a lot of things for granted—one of which is the comfort of our apparel. None represented this better than the high-heel. I understood the appeal for both sides, but the hassle always felt a bit much for the few inches.
Then again, the things some guys would do for a few inches are...Scary. As to where those inches go, that's up to you.
So, I did what I could to alleviate some of the trouble and put more of what I learned from my time with Amanda into practice.
Right, pull this here and...There, done. Man, some people would pay to do this kind of thing.
I was about to stand up when I was suddenly stopped, "Wait, don't move." Hearing the request I had no reason to deny, I stayed put.
Myla plunged her fingers into her bag, pulling out a fine-toothed comb before directing her hands onto my scalp, "There are a few loose strands. This'll only be a moment." Asserting with a cold voice whose warm breath reached my face, she gently straightened parts of my hair.
A quiet chuckle escaped me as the sight made me recall something equally endearing, "Is this payback for when we were back at the studio?"
"If it means we're even, then believe whatever you want." Vague as it was, I took it as confirmation with little hesitation, "Alright, it's done."
She returned her items to her purse, the tiny pause letting me see her face from up close. The difference the makeup made really was subtle, only adding to the features she already carried without being apparent at a glance. Along with this, on her ears, I could make out the glint of golden earrings, contrasting with her platinum crown as she placed a lock of it behind it. Her eyes returned to me, a tilt of the head meeting my intent gaze, prompting me to stand up.
"You all set?" I offered my hand.
"I'd prefer if you asked yourself first." And she accepted - her long yet delicate fingers briefly interlocking with mine.
"You guys...," An energetic voice sounded from behind as the both of us finally set foot on the ground, "What did I say about flirting before work?" And to neither of our surprises, it came from our lively-as-ever client.
"Oh, you guys were here," I replied, ignoring Fable's comment and blatant grin.
"For the past few minutes, actually." Gale ever the comedian added - revealing his shared fondness over our antics.
Well then, aren't these two just sweethearts?
Instead of dwelling on whatever implications had arisen in their mind, I distracted myself with the outfits the pair decided to bring to tonight's show.
Gale's hair was styled opposite mine as above his gentle matte eyes sat a head of hair fuller than I recall, looking plush as the strands were more or less left to decide where they wished to rest. His attire was entirely monotone, with near-invisible differences in the fabrics' hue differentiating the pieces. Atop his sweater was a lustrous blazer that gave his otherwise short stature a striking and masculine frame with trousers beneath the pair—all of which dyed a deep navy blue that could melt into the night sky - the only break from the color being his white leather shoes.
"Shall we?" With an unconvincing attempt at a high-class accent, my focus swapped to the musician's other half, who seemed rather proud of herself as she did a curtsy.
Fable carried by far the most decorated apparel among us—all gracefully draped below the spiral braid of mahogany. Her top consisted of a black linen coat, worn like a cape as it reached above her ankles and made the mellow whites of her sweater catch your eye with no effort. However, the showpiece for this one was her maxi skirt—the charcoal weave embroidered with golden tulips in the dozen and reflecting a beautiful luster. Finally, a wide waist belt and a pair of tall boots completed her set.
If I have to describe one more outfit, I'm changing career paths and becoming a fashion designer.
We climbed up the stairs and entered the reception hall, not even the dining area proper, one step away from just slapping us with its opulence. Chandeliers were hung far above our heads, piano keys and violin strings tugged at and welcomed our ears, as the servant- err, employees greeted us with good tidings. The checkered floor bore a mirror-like sheen, and each piece of furniture, be it the chairs, tables, desks, and even lampshades, was carved like they belonged in an art gallery—no luxury spared and were no farther than two steps in.
"Let me just settle our reservation. 'Tis but a moment." The young woman expressed with a smirk, walking to the front with a satisfying clack beneath each stride.
"Oh, Fable, wait. I think I called under my name-" Following quickly after her, Gale carried himself to his partner's side - being slightly towered over.
While the height discrepancy was adorable, it wasn't quite enough to dampen my remaining doubts. Behind the stylish ensemble and pleasant smile, a distressing feeling welled from my stomach to my head as if telling me we were in the rising action in some operetta and that this quaint calm portended a storm. I kept my expression free of such emotions, but I could tell my eyes betrayed any such attempts. That was until my thoughts were disturbed by a soft tug on my arm.
I turned to the force, seeing Myla in hairsbreadth of me, "W-What is it?" I muttered, the intensity of her gaze more than usual as I wasn't used to having her at eye level.
She brought her lips to my ear, the warmth of her whispers like an icy shock of voltage, "Don't let your nerves get the better of you. We're not just here to support them, but each other, alright?" And before I could utter a startled but heartfelt thanks, she had already moved to my side with her unchanging expression of stoic poise.
I can never get a read on this partner of mine, can I?
I reserved myself to accept her affirmation with a wordless thank you hidden behind my smile, concluding right as tonight's pair of interests returned.
"Right! We're good to go." She remarked, outstretching her hand in the lift's direction on the far wall - a duo of men in tailored suits receiving us with a courteous bow.
We entered the transitory passage, the aesthetic maintained as we rose in what felt like a gilded chariot. The ride was no longer than a minute, yet when we exited, it felt like we'd traveled to a whole other country.
The entire space was submerged in rays of honeyed gold, coating every inch of it with no corner or edge spared from the glow. The ceiling was high- too high, as it felt like a sky crafted by human hands—complete with stars of crystal glass that rained down endless brilliance. Countless seats and tables were laid out on the tiled floor, but not one felt out of place as I scanned their velvet blue cushions upon ivory legs. Then, as my irises were nearing to burst with the sheer flood of colors, a monsoon of scents rained upon my senses—the delicate fragrances of fresh herbs and crisp fruits, the intoxicating but sweet air of cocktails and wines, or the rich and deep aromas that I could nearly taste of the many, many dishes upon ceramic plates and beneath glinting silverware. Even so, I had yet to behold the most stunning sight of them all. Large windows adorned every side, the shapes they were sculpted in even more extravagant and complex up close as they presented what was, without hyperbole and with words that would fail to even convey an ounce of their beauty, a work of art. The concrete spires answered heaven's calls with their own stars, agleam with countless lights. The river reflected this duet of radiance, making the twilight darkness seem nonexistent. And beyond all of this, the rich violets of the sea could be seen—melting with the nighttime sky as the horizon's expanse looked infinite.
Okay, scratch new country - this ain't even the same planet.
And with that bewildered thought in mind, we sat down to begin our mission.