#acelynneoconnor

“For them life has just begun  But mine is ending...                              ...I was losing the man that I love                                        And all I could do was cry.”

The band slowly ended, the singer gave a calm nod of her head to the applause, blew a kiss to the raving men below, and exited stage left. The set was done, and she quickly pulled the few pins from her hair, letting her brown locks tumble down her back. Slipping out of the slinky star covered evening gown, Acelynne donned a pair of skinny jeans, draped tank and leather moto-jacket. A quick buckle of her straps and her pumps were secure. She wasn’t planning on dancing the bar that night, but you never knew what a dare and a free drink might do. 

The siren hated the meager life she’d put together, but it was better than nothing. She hadn’t done well enough in school to go for anything worthwhile so lounge singing at the Diagon Alley pub, The Rose and Dragon. She could almost write out the rest of her evening - a few free drinks, a handful of drooling men’s numbers slipped into her hands, and a lot of smirks from the bartender. Not the same sort of smirks as those who were woo’d by her song, but the sort one gives when they’ve got something to say. And Owen seemed the sort who had something to say - a lot of somethings. 

 sizeisnoguarantee SAID: *COUGH* WE COULD START A THREAD ON ONE OF MY OTHER BLOGS *COUGH*

 acelynneoconnor said: "Or both???" She chewed on the inside of her cheek, "It just get’s old… Flashing the blue eyes like you’re not aware they’re digging holes into every woman’s heart." She shook her head in a ‘tisk tisk’ manner.

"It's not really my fault they all love me, is it?" He rose a brow, folding both arms over his chest, a heavy sigh leaving his lips, followed by a sardonic snort at her next words. "--Hole in their heart..."

       Therapy. Seriously!? She was livid. With the death of Dumbledore, her schooling hadn't been the same. Matter of fact, she hadn't returned to school. She finished through a private tutor but still hadn't quite mastered her powers. Her parents suggested she move to London and receive treatment at St. Mungo's. Which sadly had meant therapy. Apparently there was something about "quelling your inner demons". It just made the girl's eyes roll.

       Now she was living in London, bartending some seedy bar, and making weekly trips to the wizarding hospital. Life as she knew it had quickly spiraled down into something quite lonely and fairly depressing.

       Acelynne wasn't watching where she was going, and rounding the hall corner, ran headlong into a passing physician. Her bag went flying and she sailed right onto the floor. Great... She huffed as she attempted to pull herself together and gather her things. "Sorry... Didn't see you there..." The girl rose and held her bag close. The man was handsome enough, but wasn't she just in therapy to not worry about men? 

Ace's white tee was stained with whiskey, rum from wiping the tables, and the chambord that splashed her while mixing a Red Velvet. "Damn..." She huffed as she ran her fingers through her hair. The girl stood in the restroom, fluffing up for the night crowd. Thankfully she always kept a few spare changes in her work locker. Just in case. 

Donning, quickly, a red miniskirt and a black scoop neck tank, she tugged on her boots and checked herself. "It'll do..." She ran her fingers through her hair once more, satisfied with the curls that fell about her face. 

The night crowd started early, there was a live band that night so various patrons arrived sooner than later. It enabled them access to their preferred seats before the groupies arrived. Ace didn't mind, meant more tips. And if the band was good, she might even be inclined to kick a few glasses off the bar. 

Music played, and drinks were made; regulars popped in and out through the evening. Then in walked him. He was suave, well kept, and tipped well. Not to mention, he was definitely a patron of The Rabbit Hole. "Well how's it hangin' Doc?" She shouted over the music, wide smile on her face. She ran a white rag over the bar where the man was headed, ensuring he had a clean place to lean. She rested her arms on the wood, her chest heaving slightly in the process, "The usual?" Dr. Damian Harris was probably her favorite customer, and she couldn't resist laying it on thick whenever he strolled into her little corner of hell.