— ALICE:
tw drug use
call it a treat to allow her the slack, venturing to the heart of Over for what was nothing more than work—though she hardly saw things as they were. yes, a treat, she tucks a pill into her mouth, letting it rest beneath her tongue while she is bathed in golden light as she walks in and walks over to the bar not far from the entrance.
(in a past far away in many respects, she remembers this place—trailing behind her father—so much taller then, nearly looming. the fountains water playing with a gentle gurgle in the background, a glittering in her eyes.)
wrapped in silk white, draped across the soft planes of her body, revealing where revealing must, a coy curve of her shoulder as it slopes into the soft bare skin of her arm—a tenderness seen in the unmarred skin, the way her eyes dilate, stretching, as she waits gently at the bar for the man to show up, the bartender noticing her with a silent understanding.
it is as mother always had taught her: tardiness was never to be tolerated—in the matters of men, you must wait upon not be waited upon.
instead of the expected heaviness of a hand at the center of her back, a guiding gesture as if the bar were a pretense and perhaps it was—a voice she had not heard in years, a bright spot in her dreamworld that she turns to as inez slides into the seat next to hers easily: “ah inez—what a surprise! it has been quite a while hasn’t it? my, it really has been over a year now.”
her smile is nearly as bright as the gleam of gold that surrounds them, the chandeliers that dangle their crystalline faces to glint in the light.
she hardly needs to look at the time. this is Over and so it moves regularly here, “i’m a bit early for my engagement,” ambiguity, discretion which has been asked for all packaged in the soft lilting voice that emerges from her, “so you’re welcome to join me, of course. i’m surprised you’re here as opposed to poivre, wasn’t that always our favorite?”
past lives; perhaps they are doomed to haunt.
the past had been as hazy as the present, clouded waves that smashed against eroded rocks, failure to maintain the presence of everlasting friendship — friendship that fizzled and strained with the fallen angel. but in a sense they were both falling. falling deep into the eroded depths of despair and angry beasts that growl and moan, bitter eyes and hungry teeth, yes, they’re waiting.
inez understood that her failures were not the same in comparison to klara’s, but how inez’s were kept under tightly pressed lips and klara’s misfortunes traveled around the office like gossip and wildfire. devilish flames sparking the damnation of someone that could of had it all.
“it has been so long klara,” she mused, turning her body ever so slightly to face the other, thigh crossing thigh, her black dress slightly rising. how time flies in the undeniable world that they both called home, how years could feel like seconds or days can feel like years trapped in twenty four hours. “you sure have disappeared from the circles! the girls miss you so much. though your spot at the poivre table was filled by someone else within the instant, you still come across conversation here and there at the soirées!”
inez sighed, gesturing the bartender to come over so she could order the same martini she was accustomed to when venturing into the depths of midas’s glory. “lemon drop please,” she paused, glancing over at her company, “and whatever she wants. you know what tab it will be under of course.”
she tapped her finger atop the marbled counter, golden flecks embedded into the polished rock. “the midas has a place in my heart all in the same. well that was until the silver veil became known as second place, and now the midas is the hottest spot! which is odd,” inez glanced around once more, the restaurant was still barren excluding the three tables filled, “this place is looking a little dead.”










