Now You See Me...Now you don't

I live for compliments like that, so thank you. And also, you’re welcome.

Good to know. And just offering it now, but if you ever need a space for a fashion show, you’re more than welcome to rent out my gallery. You can always advertise as living art work or something. 

Ionna nods, thinking for a moment before pulling together a series of ingredients in a cocktail shaker with ice, including strained, fresh pineapple juice, a gold tequila of decent quality, and a splash of triple sec, strained into a Nick and Nora glass with a twizzle of orange peel for garnish. She made sure to pour just a bit into a disposable shot cup to taste it, and then tossed the empty container fairly unceremoniously into a bin behind the bar with a satisfied expression. “Dealer’s Choice has its risks and rewards. You up for it? Tequila’s not a lot to go off of, but it’s something. Now, if you just want shots, I can set up a flight or something similar of things you may not have tried before.”

“Yeah, give me the shots,” Kat smiled, a little interested in what the bartender would put in front of her, “I’m always down for an adventure, so try for stuff I haven’t had before,” she challeneged, “I’m sure I’m up for it.” 

$1000 and you and I go out back for a bit for some making out.

Deal. As long as you’re not Beyonce when we’re making out. 

“…It would be too rude if I wore a please don’t talk to me sign around my neck, wouldn’t it?” He sighed. “That’s fine – I think I’ve perfected the expression that says the same thing.”

“I’m a big fan of you just doing you, so I don’t think that I’d really care,” Kat shrugged, “What’s your name anyway?”

Oh, I have been there for a few shows. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kat. I’m Elliott Wu. I’m a fashion designer and I own and operate the boutique Sew In Style, also downtown.

Oh, I got one of your dresses before. I had a gala, and it fit like a dream. 

I might say yes if I didn’t know that you have enough money to pay me much more than $100 dollars for celebrity table dances.

Fine. $1000. Final Offer. 

     “Oh” he replied, a little startled by the cause of the ruckus “well, I do like pastries… I guess it would be rude to idle by” he grinned, getting into place behind the woman in line. It was funny to him, that the first thing on the womans brain was not eating the delicacy, but instead capturing it’s image and sharing it on the internet. He chuckled under his breath, gently shaking his head at the thought. 

“Something funny?” Kat asked, looking at the man a little suspecious, “Or did you get a glimpse at what the pastry thing looks like and it looks ridiculous? Because I haven’t gotten a good view yet.” 

“Not an uncommon opinion,” Ionna acknowledges, shifting her weight and setting the hovering hand back on the bar top. “But you’re not the only one who just walked in that door, and if I don’t cover everyone in the rules explicitly, it has a fun habit of biting me in the arse. This is neutral territory, is the point.” They shrug. “If they aren’t wise enough to know that they don’t do crime, so the crime statement doesn’t apply to them, that’s not my problem and they can take their money elsewhere. We do well enough,” she states, gesturing to the moderately filled bar. “Now, would you like a menu or do you know what you’d like to drink?”

“Yeah, I can respect that, I guess,” Kat chuckled, even though there was no guarantee that she wouldn’t pick someone’s pocket if the opportunity arose. She’d just have to make sure the bartender was looking the other way. “Why don’t you surprise me. I’m normally a tequila girl, but I always love giving the bartenders a choice. I’m sure you’ know what’s good.”

open for all at singularis! 

     It wasn’t exactly freezing, but Rhys could tell that the weather was turning. Summer was well and truly over and autumn, or fall as it was called over here, was quickly settling in. It was weather he enjoyed, honestly, the weather here was similar enough to that back home, but it did get marginally warmer than back in England, he thought at least.       Tucking his scarf into his jacket as he walked, he quietly contemplated the tasks he still had left to do for that day, when a commotion in a small square across the street caught his attention. Curiosity piqued, he headed towards the small crowd that had formed to take a peek.      “What’s going on?” he asked quietly to the person he sidled up next to, peeking over the heads of those in front of him, his height giving him quite the advantage.

“Some fancy pastry thing that’s about to launch, which obviously is worth standing in line so I can get it on my insta feed,” Kat said, “I’m thinking that it’s some sort of fusion thing like a cronut, but like obviously it’s not a cronut.” 

“Free drinks and I don’t have to talk to anyone?” Simon smirked. “That sounds exactly like my kind of night. I’m in. Where are you going?”

“The Waystation,” Kat replied, “And just a warning if someone starts talking to you, that is not my fault, so don’t blame me.” 

[Open]

Ionna looks up as she wipes down the bar top, setting out napkins with her spare hand as she goes. “Good to see some new faces, but let me be clear since you likely didn’t read the signs when you walked in. This is a neutral bar. Check your bullshit at the door, and that includes your crime and your prejudice. Failure to do so may not end well for you the next time we see you. DDs get free soda, water, and tea, and we can open a tab for you, card-only, and we hold the card until you close out for the night. And if you need help, ask.”

Three heavy shot glasses find their marks, and a lithe hand hovers over the collection of glassware, and she sucks in a breath. “Now that that’s out of the way, what can I get you?”

“You know it’s pretty offensive that you just outright say that you think that I do crime,” Kat pointed out, because even though it was true it wasn’t like she publicized that. Most of the time. But defintiely not at th moment, “Like don’t you think you’d ostracize people who would pay you if they actually took that the wrong way?”

And who would I have the pleasure of thanking for my free drink and fun?

Kat Bouchard-Tremblay. I run the art gallery downtown. And you are? 

Drake walked in time with the woman. The people around them paid no mind, at least from what Drake could tell. “They’re your step kids?” Drake was taken back checking them out again. He wasn’t up-to-date on familial norms but going to a club seemed like the farthest place a stepmom would take the kids. “Oh uh I’m Drake, and you?” Drake tucked his hands into his jeans. “Are you guys celebrating something?” 

“They aren’t, they’re just their friends who i unfortunately have to play nice with. My stepdaughter lives in Paris and my stepson is off building huts somewhere and pretending that makes him a charitable person when really he’s just trying to make himself look good,” Kat explained with a chuckle, “I’m Kat, nice to meet you,” she smiled, “And yeah, I just sold a 10 million dollar painting so obviously got to celebrate the fact that I got money.”

“If I go, hypothetically, just how much socializing would be involved in that?”

“I don’t know, however much you want?” Kat offered, “I’m not forcing you to talk to anyone, that’s not a part of the deal.”

“Fuck yeah,” He looked at the bunched up apron and tossed back behind the counter. Drake ruffled out his unruly hair. He was already in a black t-shirt and skinny jeans. He was practically ready to go anywhere at that point. As long as no one minded the stench of coffee and chocolate. “Lead the way.” He eyed some of the woman’s friends taking them all in. He only knew one or two of them because of how regularly they walked into the shop. 

“Yeah, I’m just going down a couple blocks,” Kat said, as she started walking, “So what’s your name kid? And also ignore all them they’re my stepkids friends, and before you ask, my stepkids are older than me and it’s a long story.”

I’m on my way. But be aware, if somehow this hour ends up with Beyoncé doing a table dance, it’s your fault.

Okay I will literally give you $100 if you do that. Please do that. 

Drake had been overhearing the woman go off about getting the first hour of drinks on her. He had just gotten off the clock from the coffee shop. He balled up his apron sticking it under his arm, “If your lousy friends aren’t game, I’m in.” He made sure his boss wasn’t around, “I’ll get you a months worth of free drinks if you are serious on the first hour on you.” 

“Hey, I’m up for meeting new people. so if you’re down, I’m down,” Kat smirked, her eyes brightening at the idea of getting something free, “Well for that offer, you’ve got got yourself an extra hour of drinks.”