The rain continued to spit its fury on earth. Sandra stood on the sidewalk just outside a closed antique shop, but the rain was pouring so hard that half of her trench coat was already wet. The brunette looked around for open-stores or just any place where she could hide from the rain, until she spotted a club not too far from where she was standing. From the alley she stood on, the brunette was sure it would probably be a 45-second run and she would be wet, but if she would stay from where she was at the moment, she also knew she would be soaking wet in just seconds. With a determined spirit, the brunette sprinted her way towards the club. As the brunette reached the main door, she pushed herself in and was welcomed with the explosion of crowds inside.
It was a huge bar. A lesbian bar divided into two different spaces. From where she entered, there was a pool of crowd scattered along the space as the neon lights of pink and purple continued to dance around. There was a Disk Jockey on the booth blaring his music, and on the other side of the bar was this calm space, somehow filled with muted silence and whispers and there was a lady singing on the stage, yet she couldn’t hear her. There were too many worlds swirling around her that she felt the need to sit, but from where she was, there was nothing to sit on. Sandra tried to push herself out of the dance floor, passed by too many people and successfully, she arrived at the other side of the bar and finally, she could hear the woman singing.
We only said goodbye with words
I died a hundred times
You go back to her
And I go back to
I go back to us
I love you much
It’s not enough
You love blow and I love puff
And life is like a pipe
And I’m a tiny penny
Rolling up the walls inside
Wow. The brunette muttered under her breath, the fascination building up inside her. She was so amazed about the fact that she could not hear the on-going party on the other side, despite the fact that the two spaces were only divided by a glass. Shaking her head, the brunette looked around. There were only eight people inside – in pairs, all of which were women. Thinking she wouldn’t be there for long, Sandra walked back towards the other side and walked straight to the bartending area.
“Vodka, please.”
The lady in dreadlocks looked at her, her face turning sour as if Sandra said something unacceptable, “Excuse me?”
The brunette looked around the throngs of people dancing before she looked at the woman again, “I want a vodka, please.” She spoke again, smiling as she said so.
“Do I look like a bartender to you?”
Upon hearing it, the brunette was taken aback. She looked at the woman, who was looking so offended and she wondered what on earth did she say to make her react like that. Wasn’t she a bartender? Sandra looked around the bartending area, still there was no one else, but the woman in dreadlocks.
With an apologetic smile, she spoke, “I’m really sorry. You’re not a bartender, aren’t you?”
The woman rolled her eyes at her, “Do I fucking look like one?”
“I’m really, really sorry. I just thought you are because —”
“I’m here, but that doesn’t mean I’m the bartender.”
“Okay.” The brunette replied as she held the stool that she was sitting, “I’m sorry.”
“You should be.” And with that, the black woman walked away, casually slamming the door before she went off.
Sandra sighed. All she wanted was a drink, but there was no one else to do that for her. She scoured the whole scene – everybody was obviously enjoying, excluding her. She didn’t really mean to offend the woman a little while ago, it was really an honest mistake. Shaking her head, the brunette took her phone out and started texting Jennifer.
To: Aniston
Hey, you up? I’m at a bar.
She watched as the message was delivered. She waited for the reply, but her screen was gradually turning black already, yet, she didn’t receive one. Jennifer might be sleeping soundly already, she figured. The brunette then pulled her eyes off from the scene of the crowd and focused on her phone. She, enable to pass time, started to scroll on her gallery and looked at the pictures stored in there, when the door of the bartending area slammed open. From her peripheral vision, she could see that the real bartender had already arrived, but she didn’t order just yet. The bartending area seemed to go alive as the bartender started opening drinks, mixing and sizzling drinks up. There were two women who approached the area and ordered drinks, but she didn’t really mind them as Sandra watched a video of Akira playing scrabble. She missed the kid, terribly. As the women left the area, the brunette continued to scroll through photos and videos when she felt a presence watching her.
“And? Your order, Miss?”
The world muted itself. The chaos and the blaring sounds disappeared like a weakling fog. Her heart crawled out of her chest, and went out past her rotten skin. Her own repressed yearning slid out of her ears like blooming daffodils and on the bar stool that she was sitting on, Sandra froze.
She couldn’t be mistaken. How could she when that voice was the lullaby in her dreams? Sandra abruptly looked at the bartender and when she did, her crimpled heart bloomed. The heavy bones that sat like abandoned gods on her shoulder finally rested and Sandra, like a pitiful little kid, sobbed as she got off the bar stool and ran towards the bartending area.
“You fucker!” Sandra threw herself towards the bartender, burying her weeping face against her chest, “I have been looking for you!” She continued as she cried before she finally looked at her, “Why? Why did you do it?”
As that question came out of her quivering lips, Sandra cupped her face and looked at her. It felt like years and having to see her in flesh was a breath of relief. It felt like the poets imprisoned inside her bones got out and she felt free, her heavy bones, a featherlight thing now. It was Cate and she looked different – like a Greek soldier returning home after a century-long battle, yet, in Sandra’s palm, she felt the same. Her blond hair was even shorter now and even sleeker than the brunette remembered. She was wearing a black vest and a faux leather pants. Her neck had layered necklaces, still, she looked so pretty.
Sandra shook her head as she gently cupped her face, her eyes coming to look into the blonde’s eyes, unbelief still plastered inside Sandra’s veins, “I looked for you…for years.” She mumbled, her tears spilling out even harder.
Instead of Cate hugging her back, the blonde was still, her face, deeply shocked by the occurrence.
“Cate…”
The blonde shook her head as she held Sandra’s arms before she gently backed her away, “Ma’am? I’m so sorry.” She spoke so gently as if to pacify the sobbing mess that the brunette was, “I think you are mistaken. My name is not Cate.”
“What?”
“You maybe mistaken. My name’s Lou.” The blonde looked at Sandra like how a person looks at a mere stranger, “Lou Miller.”
***
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