WHEN: 29 March 2012 WHERE: The Leaky Bucket STATUS: Closed | @emboldens
The evening chill bites into her skin as she steps out onto the pavement, deftly waving off the concierge’s offer to call her a cab. The fresh air is a welcome change from the recycled air of her office—see, Marlene, we do recycle—and it helps to clear her head, makes it easier to take the knowledge of all the despicable things her family is doing—that she is doing—and hide them away in little boxes. There is no room for guilt in business, her father had told her once, when she’d been brave foolish enough to question the ethics of what they were doing. You’ll do well to remember that, he’d said, and Alecto recognises a threat when she hears one. She learns to switch herself off at work after that, existing outside herself, pretends it is not her hand gliding across the papers, not her name on the dotted line approving future exploits. It gets easier over time, but she takes longer to re-learn how to be a person again, after.
The sun’s just beginning to set when she finally makes it to her destination, and she takes a moment to stand outside, peeking in through the windows. The dying sunlight casts a golden glow on everything within, the tables, the chairs, the woman currently scrubbing down the bar counter. Alecto takes a moment to admire the sight—gaze trailing from the hands on the countertop to the ink winding up her arms to the sliver of bare neck visible from underneath a hastily tied ponytail. I love you, she thinks, choking on the feeling, but I cannot keep you. The truth of the matter wraps itself around her heart like a vice, thorns digging into flesh; it might destroy her when this inevitably ends, but perhaps she should have known from the start that their relationship would be nothing more than mutually assured destruction—two chaoses coming together and leaving a trail of devastation in their wake.
She stands outside for too long; Marlene starts to turn, and she ducks into the bar before she can be caught staring. “Hey Mars,” she calls, walking over to kiss her girlfriend and smiling into it as she registers the song playing, recalling memories of Marlene serenading her—BABY IT’S YOU, YOU’RE THE ONE I LOVE, YOU’RE THE ONE I NEED!—in nothing but her bra and panties as she’d laughed, half-heartedly trying to shush her—baby, you’re going to wake the entire neighbourhood up!—before giving up and joining in instead. “I brought Chinese,” she announces, placing the takeout bags on the counter before unwrapping her scarf, draping the fabric around Marlene’s neck instead and tugging until they’re close enough for Alecto to steal another kiss. “Leaky’s looking great.”