“Ah, if that isn’t a familiar couple of friends?” the musician’s eyes glinted underneath his hood. He stretched out his arms in a greeting. “Remember me?”
Liara squinted her eyes at him. “Ah,” her eyesight was terrible, but she remembered, “YOU’RE THE HEARTBROKEN MUSICIAN SINGING ABOUT HIS EX–”
Lotte clapped her hand over Liara’s mouth. “Remember. First, you think about your sentence. Then you say it. And mind your volume.” Lotte smiled apologetically at the musician. “Sorry about that. We never caught your name, did we?”
The musician cocked his head, thinking. His obsidian eyes scrutinised the pair before he smiled at them, noticing how close they stood to one another and were close to holding hands. Again. “Call me, Bill. My artist name, if you will. Tell me, how was your trip?”
“It was…”
“Eventful,” finished Liara, catching herself touching Lotte’s fingers; both blushed. “We got caught in quite some trouble.”
“So I’ve heard,” Bill smirked at them from underneath his hood. “Quite a spectacle to witness, but something came around it, didn’t it?”
Liara and Lotte knew what he was referring to and awkwardly looked away from one another before their eyes met again.
Lotte replied first, with rosy cheeks and a smile on her lips. “Yes, something great.”
“C-can’t deny that.” Liara awkwardly scratched her head, avoiding Lotte’s gaze for a change. “Bet you knew that, didn’t you? You found our bags and brought them to that couple. How did you know where we would be?”
Bill shrugged and put a finger to his lips. “Artist secret. Anyway, are you two interested in some entertainment?”
“Entertainment?” they gave Bill a confused look.
“A place you might enjoy. Follow me, my friends.”
Bill walked past them, not waiting for a reply. Liara furrowed her brows. “This sounds shady. We should ignore it.”
“I don’t know…” Lotte said. “I think we should go. Sounds interesting.”
“Really? I don’t- hey, what-”
“Come, let’s follow him.” Uncharacteristically for the two, Lotte dragged Liara to their next destination. Liara had a queasy feeling about it all—yet couldn’t say no and got herself hauled along.
They passed the many crowds that passed them like crashing waves. Bill moved unwaveringly through them, splitting up groups without them noticing so he could walk through.
In one instance, Liara’s gaze flicked upwards, and she felt like the clouds moved faster and the sun was setting quicker. “Did just an hour go by in minutes?”
Her eyes settled on Lotte, still pulling them forward. She didn’t seem to notice anything strange going on, and before Liara knew it, she forgot about it all when Bill stopped.
“We’re here,” he announced, stuffing his hands into his hood pocket and turning around. The setting sun coloured his form ominously in orange light. “Welcome—to ‘Club Kur’!”
“A-a nightclub?” Liara gawked, staring at the dark facade of the two-story building with a large sign reading the club’s name. A red carpet was rolled up, ending right before the entrance with a typical dark rope barrier. A bouncer stood under the entrance’s canopy with crossed arms. “L-lotte, this is a nightclub, you know? My parents will most likely deport me, and yours will imprison you at home until you’re 30 when they find out.”
Liara wasn’t the nervous type, but even she knew this was not a good idea—especially since they were still underage.
“To calm your nerves,” Bill said, “it’s not a nightclub.”
“Liar,” Liara rebuffed, “it’s obvious what it is!”
“It’s a private club,” corrected Bill. “Ever been to one before?”
“Ehhhh,” Liara had nothing to reply.
“Thought so.” Bill snapped his fingers. “We don’t handle ourselves with typical drunken parties or all-night clubbing,” explained Bill. “Our owner hates over-the-top self-indulgence due to her pampered little sister being a pain in the ass. We all unitedly hate her and will never-.”
“You’re going off-topic here.” Liara signalled for a timeout. “What exactly does this club do?”
“Does it matter?” Lotte asked with such an eagerness in her voice that Liara was caught off guard—her excitement was contagiously uncharacteristic. “I feel excited already.”
Liara waved. “I’m not sure we should-”
“Don’t worry.” Bill grinned encouragingly. “We don’t just let in anyone, only on recommendation, and when our Lady, the owner, says so,” Bill warbled with his tongue and waved his hand enthusiastically before him. “Get a stamp, leave your parents’ numbers—if you want—and enjoy the night. Drinks—non-alcoholic smoothies—and desserts are on the house. Let’s go!”
Bill sauntered off towards the entrance. Liara gave Lotte a wary look and squeezed her hand. “Are you sure we should go there? Not to say anything, but this sounds shady.”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t feel shady to me. Besides,” Lotte smiled at Liara and squeezed back, “we said we would have fun, didn’t we?”
Liara murmured. “I’m rubbing off a bit too much on you.”
Lotte tugged Liara closer to her and chuckled. “Just for a while, ok?”
Liara agreed, “OK, if you want to.”
The bouncer stopped Bill and the two. She looked like your typical security staff for clubs to separate the wanted crowd from the unwanted, but looked far more stylish.
She wore a fine-trimmed suit with a shining midnight blue tie, a pair of sunglasses to hide her eyes, fair skin that was almost grey and short black hair styled back neatly and falling slightly from the side.
But there was one detail that nagged at Liara’s consciousness.
“Hey, Natalie, I’m back!” announced Bill, towering over the barely over 150 cm tall bouncer. “Remove the rope. I got two wonderful gals to join in for the evening program.”
Natalie sneered at Bill and crossed her arms—a behaviour Liara anticipated, but stood in stark contrast with her short height. “No entry for you, Gil– Bill,” she replied with a stutter and squared her shoulders, placing her hands on her hips.
Liara had to hold back a laugh because Natalie didn’t look intimidating at all with her slim figure. It was as if she saw a 6th grader trying to look tough.
“Ah hahaha,” Bill laughed and slapped Natalie’s shoulder repeatedly. “Stop joking, Nat. See you later inside–”
Bill, trying to go past the bouncer, made the mistake of putting his hand on her shoulder. In one lightning-speed motion, Natalie twisted Bill’s hand and threw him over her shoulder—adding him to the pile of trash a corner away.
Liara whistled in appreciation. It was a perfect judo throw, which would make any master jealous. “I like her and the club already.”
The couple gulped when Natalie looked their way. Her shades dipped slightly, revealing a pair of sharp golden eyes before she readjusted them again. Clasping her hands in front of her, Natalie took on a formal posture. “Name, Age and Recommendation, please.”
“Ehm,” both gulped nervously. “Liara Shepard and Charlotte Mae,” Lotte started.
“We’re both 17,” Liara continued. “As for recommendations…”
They looked over at Bill. He remained prone in the trash, barely able to get his bearings. They did not want to be associated with him.
“They are with me,” someone lilted behind them. They both turned to a woman who smiled at them with mischievous eyes, stating nothing but entertainment danger. “Recommendation on my behalf, my love.”
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—✩—
“My love?” the girls looked puzzled at the bombshell of a woman. She wore a bright red cutout dress, bright golden earrings, and an expensive Roségold watch. Her midnight blue hair cascaded in beautiful locks over her dark brown shoulders.
Pulling down her shades, she revealed her brown eyes where a golden-rimmed halo illuminated them—lenses they presumed. The tall woman with strong, revealing, long legs sauntered confidently towards them, her red heels brushing elegantly over the carpet.
She pulled her arms around Natalie and passionately kissed her with all the forbidden romance Lotte and Liara only dreamed of seeing in movies. Natalie dropped half-conscious to the ground.
“That was nice, new lipstick?” asked the stranger woman and licked her bright lips for another taste. She turned to the girls. “What are you standing there? Come on inside!”
“First thing, wow!” said Liara in all the buzz she just felt—Lotte nodded enthusiastically and felt dazed by how red her face became. “Second, who are you?”
“Me? I’m your ticket in,” the woman laughed, holding a hand before her chest. “Mamakee, they call me, but you can call me Mama.”
“Nope, definitely not,” the girls thought, shaking their heads. Mamakee laughed it off and slung her arms around theirs, pulling them single-handedly inside.
“Come on in, girls. We have a great evening ahead!”
“No,” complained Natalie, “they’re not cleared yet.”
Mamakee blew a kiss and a wink towards Natalie, making her pallid face flush. “See you at my booth later, my love. I know when you have your break.”
Lotte and Liara watched as Natalie frothed with embarrassment and squealed as she hid her face. The poor girl was being teased by her partner. Liara couldn’t help but laugh. Lotte felt her cheeks redden, thinking about a rare idea of what to tease to go with Liara.
The hallway was dark and narrow—lit only by dim red headlights. Someone asked at the reception to take their clothes, but they wordlessly passed by them. Lotte regarded the man for a second and thought to see something blue flicker inside their suit, but wasn’t sure as Mamakee dragged them to the club’s interior.
“Welcome to Club Kur. Enjoy!”
The lights reflected off of the varnished dark cedar flooring. Dark navy blue single sofas lined around stone and wooden-edged tables. Low lamps hung from the ceilings with crisscrossing wooden beams. Fog rose from smoke machines underneath the bar counter in the back, billowing downwards from stone columns and dark-tinted red windows.
Behind the bar was a Middle Eastern mural engraved against the wall from the ceiling down to the floor. It was a naked woman with owl-like feet, downcast wings and a twisted crown, holding a rod and ring in each hand.
They sat down at a corner booth, listening to the calm atmosphere and chatter of the people. Contrary to their belief, there were only a few people wearing suits or dresses, with many opting for casual wear as they intermingled with each other and chatted.
Someone occasionally walked up to the little stage at the corner and engaged in discussions with the audience. The meaning of life and death, what love was, ethics, and the right or wrong way to judge people. Opinions varied; disagreements came up, but they never escalated and kept themselves cordial to find a consensus.
It hardly came to one, but they went their ways respectfully—agreeing to disagree. It was a rare atmosphere, from what Lotte was used to seeing. Rather than having their opinions and right thoughts forced on others, they talked and considered the other side at the very least, and didn’t just rebuff or ridicule it to an extreme extent.
For a change in a long time, Lotte could breathe easier, which helped with Liara sitting next to her.
“Not quite what I expected,” confessed Liara, slurping on her milkshake. “But it’s alright.”
“Mhm.” Lotte nodded, sipping on her smoothie. “I like it. It’s quaint.”
“Sure, but it could use some-”
Just then, two uniformed women came by—each with a grape tiramisu for the girls. One was a bright and slim woman with billowing brown hair, full lips and a wide smile. The other was more timid and hid her hair under a blue hijab—she fidgeted uncomfortably with her uniform.
“On the house,” said the cheery one while her friend nodded politely. “Service from the Lady of the Club.”
The women pointed at a dark-lit booth on the second floor, which they hadn’t noticed until now. There sat a woman with various shades of maroon for her hair, skin, and dress, seeing her wave silently at them. They spotted more silhouettes with her, but nothing they could discern.
“Well, that was awkward.” Liara took a bite of the tiramisu, feeling it melt on her tongue. “Oh my gosh, that care!” Lotte nodded in agreement, enjoying each of the purple grapes it came with. She couldn’t help but eye Liara’s tiramisu with the purple grapes. “A bit more entertainment would be fun,” Liara continued. “This place is gloomy!”
Lotte laughed, masking the fact she took a bite out of Liara’s grape cake. Then, the lights went out in the entire club. Lotte was startled; not by the darkness, but by Liara grabbing her hand.
“Hey, relax.” Liara pinched Lotte’s hand, scooting over to Lotte. “I’m here, remember?”
“Liar,” Lotte wrinkled her brow, squeezing Liara’s hand tighter. “Still afraid of the dark, aren’t we?”
“What? Me? No…” Liara bluffed, wiping the sweat off her neck. “I’m not afraid, you are… just don’t let go.”
“I would never.”
Blue lights lit up on the stage, revealing Natalie holding a mic. She was sweating more nervously than Liara did in the dark. Natalie’s slick hair clung to her face; she adjusted her collar. Remove her jacket, and you might see her drenched shirt.
“Wooooo, go, my love!” Mamakee cheered from a nearby booth, embarrassing the nervous security guard even more. Lotte could barely watch. Liara nicked Lotte’s cake.
“So, ehm, don’t you think how awkward it is being a human?” Natalie fumbled. “L-like, have you done something so awkward and then thought about it for eighty years?
*chirping of crickets*
Liara cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, “YOU SUCK!”
The crowd laughed at Liara’s lead. Natalie’s face grew red behind her shades. She stormed off the stage with Mamakee after her.
“That was awful.” Lotte gripped Liara’s arm.
Liara snorted. “Tell me about it. I can crack better jokes than that.”
“No doubt there, but Liara, that was not nice.”
“Nah, look behind you.” Liara dismissed it with a wave of her free hand. Lotte spotted how Mamakee held Natalie in her arms with a content face. She winked at them. “She’ll be fiiiiiine. Got her girlfriend pampering her-” Liara stuttered when she saw Lotte’s face in the gloom—it was as beat red as a flare just from the image she got hearing the scene happening behind them. “Jealous?”
“Maybe a little?” Lotte laced her fingers between Liara’s, who smiled contently at this, her eyes gleaming behind her glasses.
“Shall we continue after this embarrassing comedy act?” Bill asked on stage, twirling with the mic and causing an interference with the speakers before he brought it to his mouth. “I mean, I could start trash-talking about our Lady’s bratty sister, but I think I nailed it the first time when I called her an apartment that shuts out her owner.”
Knowing snickering followed. Bill felt excited to continue and unfolded a large piece of paper.
“I mean, she’s like Wi-Fi with only one bar.
“She’s paint that leaves your wall half dry and half wet.
“Insurance that doesn’t pay.
“Cola that tries to disguise herself as diet.
“She’s a car fuelled with the wrong gasoline and chokes down half the road!”
Now the crowd was laughing. An embarrassing horse laugh escaped Liara, and she had to clamp her mouth shut. Lotte was more rolling over from Liara’s laugh than about the terrible jokes.
“You liked them?” asked Bill, waiting for a positive reply in the form of more laughing. He and the audience looked up to the balcony where the lady of the house sat—whose sister was being ridiculed.
She gave a thumbs up. Her assistant, a woman with bronze skin, golden hair and a pencil skirt, approved. “Fine jokes today, Bill. But maybe stay on the program? Also, send a copy later to the lady.”
Bill winked at them. “Will do. Now, who wants to hear my singing?”
Deathly silence. More chirping crickets.
“...boooooo,” and Liara’s booing. Lotte slapped her arm lightly.
“Thanks for the enthusiasm,” Bill said drily, picking up a guitar from the back. “To begin our evening program, we’ve got some special guests flown in from Greece. Enjoy their music that brings even the most stoic and workaholic people to weep.”
When Bill pulled the string, a man with black locks and a woman with dreaded, firewood-red hair came to the stage. Lotte recognised the man carrying a Turkish instrument, a bağlama, while the woman used her voice to entrance the crowd.
Her olive skin glowed like fire in the light of the headlamps that changed to burgundy. Her voice carried far throughout the club and was only amplified by the backing the two men provided.
The song was titled ‘Farewell and Goodbye’. She sang of lament and death, finding freedom after the end of one’s life. It was full of warm emotion, but the tune switched quickly when the man took over singing.
His was more mournful and solemn about the loss and tragedy of seeing their loved ones depart. Then they switched to a duet, telling about love and finding it in the darkest places after an arduous journey.
The crowd listened enamoured, enjoying the woman’s singing and the man’s play, dipping their heads to the melody.
“Farewell, my weight to the world
In time, it all falls away
We’re free in our departing
No more judgement
No sleep of good times
Except dreaming in one’s arms
Safe from all the harm
Calm, with you.”
Lotte and Liara shared a glance. They smiled at each other from the beautiful music and inched closer. In the dark and song, they shared a kiss—one blossomed by the emotions they never knew how big they were.
The crowd grinned silently at this display of affection. The musicians strung their instruments, and the songstress exhaled deeply before resuming.
“Goodbye to all the burdens,” she sang and noticed with a few other guests the flashing of a camera. They frowned at the direction, noticing someone disappear between the shadows.
Seeing as the girls didn’t notice it, they waited for the lady of the club to give the word. She raised a hand, pointing it upwards to search for the intruder, but not disturb the peace.
The song was far from finished.