DeathsHawkMoth

It’s hot in there. Darkly lit. It’s loud. There’s more people than she was expecting for such a small place too, although she supposes that it is a Friday night. She finds the bar, and she goes up and orders a drink. The bartender is a woman, small silver hoop through her nose. Nancy can’t quite pinpoint this woman’s age, she could be anything from twenty to sixty. She smiles as she hands Nancy her drink.

‘Haven’t seen you around before, what brings you to the pink pony tonight?’ The bartender asks.

‘I just moved in upstairs, today actually.’

The woman gives a low whistle through her teeth. ‘Today, huh?’ Nancy nods. ‘You need something to eat? You look like you’re about to keel over.’ The second that she asks, Nancys stomach gives a rumble, and she remembers why she left her apartment in the first place. She nods again.

‘Yes, please.’

The woman hums and starts fixing her some sort of sandwich. ‘So, where’re you moving from?’ She asks.

‘Just a little town in Indiana.’ Nancy responds, looking around at the club. There’s music playing, and she realizes that it’s from a live band up one end of the room, though she can barely see them for all the people dancing in front of the stage. The bartender hands her the sandwich.

‘Thanks, er…’ Nancy’s looking around for a name tag or something but the woman doesn’t seem to have one. ‘Call me Ethel, kid.’ Nancy smiles back at her. ‘Thanks for the sandwich Ethel, I’m Nancy.’

‘Nice to meet you Nancy. Say, pardon me for being nosey, but moving all the way down from Indiana, who’d you move here for? Boyfriend? Parents? College?’

Nancy shakes her head. Takes another bite of her sandwich and swallows before replying. ‘Felt like it.’

Her eyes are looking down at the bar now. But she looks up when Ethel nods knowingly and says: ‘You’re running from something, but we all are, aren’t we?’

It’s weird, because Ethel walks off and starts serving other customers after that. And Nancy’s left sitting there wondering why she isn’t feeling as angry as she ought to. Because this woman who she has known for less than ten minutes seems to think that she has Nancy all figured out. But she’s not mad about it. Maybe it's the sandwich. It is a good sandwich, after all.

She’s feeling better now, the invasive energy of the dancers is calling to her. There’s black lights along the wall, and it’s just this endless wall of bodies ebbing and flowing with the loud music like ocean waves.

The old Nancy Wheeler didn’t dance, not really. Not unless she was really wasted or angry or both. But she’s new Nancy Wheeler now, New York Nancy Wheeler, so she can dance if she wants to. And she does want to.

So she does.

-

Thanks for reading! So far i have the first chapter (very clearly Pink Pony Club inspired) done. I plan on writing a few more chapters over the next fortnight or so before uploading anything on Ao3 as i want to ensure i don't leave anyone hanging for a crazy amount of time. Let me know what you think!