Page 39 of Feed Your Fiends

“A sidecar,” A pretty Asian girl, one I’d nearly mistaken for Bae given her long, silky locks, calls out to me from across the bar.

Damn, the guests are really into character. Thank goodness I’d gone over popular nineteen-twenties drinks last night, and thank goodness for the free shots that keep my station somewhat manageable.

There’s no way I could stand behind the bar for hours, so Hale bought me a tall rolling bar stool, which surprisingly doesn’t slow me down as I’d thought. I’m about to push off the bar to roll myself to the opposite shelves to grab the ingredients when an annoyingly posh voice stops me.

“Seriously, whose grandmother are you?” some bloke I don’t recognise from the academy asks between puffs of smoke he blows across the bar at Rie Rie.

He must be from Bradley for Boys or Ennox Prep. Even if I didn’t know the cover charge, I’d know he was a ‘someone’ based on the golden ring on his finger. It’s imprinted with a family crest. One I bet most of Beaulieu’s population would be able to recognise, just like the unmarked designer handbags hanging on every girl’s shoulder.

“Not yours,” Rie says, studying him, her coke bottle lenses flashing. “If I’d had children, they’d be cute, and I can tell your parents aren’t.”

He stiffens, blowing another plume into her face. Rie doesn’t cough nor flinch. “Do you know who my parents are?”

“I would’ve said descendants of the Habsburgs dynasty, but they all died out from inbreeding, so I’ll guess cousins? Siblings? From the looks of it.”

The snort that escapes my nose is unstoppable.

“That’s funny? Little Annie,” He asks coolly, taking in my red hair before nodding left to the backrooms. “Won’t be so funny when you’re screaming my name back there in an hour.”

“You’d have to tell me what it was first,” I say, eyeing his precious ring dismissively. “I’ve never heard of you.”

“Let me introduce myself.” He grins. “Daddy Warbucks. Now how much?”

“This isn’t a brothel,” Rie Rie says, unfazed like she’s been through the disrespect a million times before.

“You’re right. That’s Pierrot's.” His smirk broadens. “I just saw Hale’s mother last night. No…this isn’t a brothel, nor a cemetery, yet, here you are.”

“You can order a drink and nothing else,” I grit. “So this is the only time I’m going to ask, what do you want to drink?”

He eyes me again, his gaze dropping to my rolling stool as if finally noticing it. I’m so high up that most people haven’t. He takes in my long skirt that’s hiding my bandaged feet I’ve tucked away in soft flat boots.

“Oh, you’re not Annie. You’re Cinderella, aren’t you?Fuck me.From dancing as Beaulieu’s lead with Gant Auclair to serving with hags. My, how you’ve fallen. Gant made sure of it.”

I straighten my shoulders and ignore the gazes that are zoning in on me.

“Drink,” Rie Rie says. “Or fuck off.”

“Fine,” he says, never taking his eyes off of me. “Your performance that night has inspired me. How about… A Bloody Mary. Or a Carrie? That’s practically what Gant turned you into. Soaking you in all that fucking blood. Since it was your own, I guess it was swine’s blood all the same.”

“I wouldn’t recommend a Carrie. Carolina’s no good. She vomits a little every time she sucks my dick and she makes a horrible skewer. Can’t take it at both ends,” A deep voice says over my shoulder, and I look up at Hale. “Besides, she's your sister, and you want to place that order? I guess nothing will stop your curiosity of wanting a taste. Or to watch…”

The boy’s face flames. “Stay the fuck away from my sister.”

“Stay the fuck away from my grandmother,” Hale snaps with so much vitriol even I recoil.

The boy sucks his teeth, takes another slow drag and disappears but not before Hale whips around the bar and goes after him.

“That was sweet,” I say to Rie, who nods, a confused expression washing over her features.

“But who’s his grandmother?”

“Never mind. I’m sorry, Rie. Teenagers are asses. Turning eighteen makes you legal but not considerate. I would’ve called a guard over, but we only have two tonight.” And I can’t see either one through the thick crowd. Just the pretty girl who asked for the sidecar.

Quickly, I gather the ingredients, and she sashays away a minute later, drink in hand, with a flick of her silky hair.

“A guard, just for that baby brat? You must not be as cultured in these streets as I thought,” Rie Rie sniffs. “Besides, not all kids are horrible. Just look at my Haley and you too. I could almost imagine you were mine, just like Hale if you weren’t lily-white.”

I take in Rie Rie’s rich caramel skin. She’d told me that she was a whole heap of races, and it showed in her ambiguous features. I just know she was an utter knockout working these same floors a few decades ago, and I make a mental note to ask her for a photo later.

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