Chapter 7-4

Leonas had a knack for finding gay bars, even those who wouldn’t admit they were gay bars. The Noun’s Noun looked like little more than your average tavern, and the fresh-faced young barkeep behind the counter had probably thought it was until he looked around one day and realized that he was surrounded by men, and affectionate men at that. It was a steady clientele at least.

It was nothing Leonas hadn’t seen before. The guys were young, stupid, and self-consciously feminine. They twittered with delight at their difference, and took great pains to sound like bad stereotypes. Maybe there were some who wouldn’t irritate Leonas enough over the night, but he had no desire to dig through a pile of queens and the language barrier to get them. He knew he shouldn’t have come out here, but Anjanette was so insistent. Occasionally she came along with him, when she just wanted to get drunk and not be hit on, but that was pretty rare.

“Don’t see you around here much,” a deep voice said behind him in Imperial. A tall man with long dark hair sat down behind him. He was strikingly handsome, his features sharp as if molded from clay.

“I’m only stopping in town for the night,” said Leonas, taking a swig from his gin.

“A pity,” the other man said. “Call me Ash. Because it’s my name.”

“Leonas,” he said.

“Is Leo okay?”

“Only one person has permission to call me Leo, and she had to beat it out of me.”

Ash chuckled. “Leonas it is. So what brings you to our fair town?”

Leonas shrugged. “Damned if I know. I think I’m on a quest or something.”

“So how’s questing?” asked Ash. His smile absolutely refused to die or abate.

“To be honest, it involves a lot more walking and a lot less action than I’d expected,” said Leonas.

“Yeah, well, that’s life,” Ash said. Leonas couldn’t fight back the laugh. “Want me to show you around town?”

“I’m only staying here for one night,” said Leonas.

There was an irresistible twinkle in Ash’s eye. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

“Well, it’s not like I have anything better to do.”

* * *

The men hovered around Anjanette like a swarm of bees over sweets left unguarded.

They flattered her, bought her drinks and food, asked standard questions, tripped over their heavy accents. Anjanette giggled and flirted her way through it, keeping them all on strings.

Milly had paid for every one of her drinks, which were starting to add up. Nobody approached her. Occasionally she would try to enter into conversation, but she was usually ignored. She was, she realized in an instant of clarity, the ugly wingman.

“Fuck...” she mumbled clutching the bar counter. Hands feeling like they were on someone else’s body, she took another long swig of ale. She had stopped noticing the bitterness a few drinks back.

“You okay, Milly?” Anjanette asked.

“I’m fine,” Milly bit back. “Not like anyone gives a shit.”

“Milly...” Anjanette trailed off, sounding concerned.

Milly stood up, slamming her hands against the bar. “Great, Anj. Just fucking brilliant. Fucking look at you.”

“You know, this might be the first time I’ve heard you swear,” Anjanette said off hand.

“Shut UP!” Milly screeched. “Was this the whole point? Look at how pretty I am, look at how ugly you are, guys love me because I have big boobs and don’t wear a lot of clothes... is that it, Anj? Is this all you want, to fuck morons who drool over you? Well have a blast! Fuck!”

Milly stormed out of the bar, ignoring Anjanette shouting after her. She fought off tears valiantly. She shouldn’t cry, there was no reason to cry. She was angry.
Anger and passion burned through Milly’s veins, something primal that she wasn’t entirely sure about. She felt disoriented, with everything a bit blurry and uneven before her, but she was sure she could take it. Milly began the walk back to the inn.

She had only gotten about halfway when a hand grabbed her by the shoulder. Milly was surprised that someone had caught up to her without her noticing – her senses were normally better than that. She was even more surprised when it was just a fat drunk. He laughed, blowing bitter breath into her face. “Hey pretty girl. What’s your name?”

“Let me go,” Milly demanded. It came out as a slurred murmur.

The drunk laughed at Milly and pulled her in closer. Milly flailed at him with her fist, but the blow was sloppy and soft. She didn’t have her weapons and, terrifyingly, she found the zone she normally entered when fighting completely gone.
So she did the only thing she could: she screamed.

“Quiet down, l’il lady,” the drunk slurred, moments before being a kick came down on his skull with the force of a rockslide. He toppled over, laying in the street.
Anjanette lowered her leg, looking concerned. “Some guys just can’t say no, right?” she joked feebly.

Milly opened her mouth to launch into another tirade, but promptly collapsed into Anjanette’s arms.

“Sheesh,” Anjanette grinned. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

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