Girlfriends - A Birds of a Feather prequel

Girlfriends

The bartender sighed as he thought about the lonely, cold pizza waiting for him in the fridge back in his small studio apartment. He was on the early shift and would be off shortly, but he wasn't looking forward to leaving the bar, partially because of said pizza but mostly because of the silence he knew would accompany it.

It was early evening still, but the place was already half-full, with students from the nearby University stopping by before moving on to glitzier places or rowdier parties. The atmosphere was cheerful like it usually was in places where the clientele had their whole life ahead of them and no real responsibilities to shoulder just yet. It was as if the smell of optimism hung in the air, softening the mood with its promise of bright and shiny things to come.

A short, slim girl in her late teens sat at the bar, a little to the side, watching the crowd. She was pretty, with long wavy hair and a sweet smile on her face. When he noticed how she kept looking at her watch, the bartender assumed that she was waiting for someone, and wondered who in their right mind would stand someone like her up. Then she turned her face toward him, wiggling her empty bottle of water to indicate she wanted a refill. Her eyes were happy, but there was a hint of experience, or maybe resignation, in them that made him wonder if he'd misjudged her age.

"Excuse me," a haughty voice said.

The girl right in front of him wasn't the standard version of beautiful, but she was certainly striking. Her curves and long brown hair looked soft, but her face was guarded, almost hard. She had an air of self-assurance that was daunting, and her dark eyes cut through him as if she could see his every thought.

"Can I have a coke, please?" she asked, making the simple question sound like a royal command.

He nodded and filled a glass for her, at the same time leaning down to snag a bottle of water from the small fridge under the counter. The bar suddenly seemed quiet, despite voices floating through the air and the music still playing, and the bartender straightened.

A tall girl with long, white-blonde hair had entered the bar. She stood just inside the doors, surveying her surroundings in a way that made him wonder if she was working in law enforcement. The girl seemed too young to carry a badge, although when she walked straight through the room, people instinctively moved out of the way. Maybe she did work with the police, the bartender thought, watching with apprehension as she stopped next to the curvy girl with the coke. There was something about her that made him uneasy, at the same time as he felt safe. Protected.

"Water, please. Regular from the tap's okay," she muttered, turning her back toward the bar to survey the room.

She still had her dark sunglasses on, and they were as black as her clothes.

Another girl who had been sitting by the bar for a long while, staring at a piece of paper laid out in front of her, suddenly started crying. Her sobs were mostly quiet sniffles, and she barely moved, so if a few tears hadn't fallen from her cheeks onto the paper, the bartender wouldn't have noticed. He saw it, though, and silently put a stack of napkins next to her. It wasn't uncommon in a place like that to see females of varying ages crying, although it was mostly from different stages of inebriation which didn't seem to be the case this time.

"Are you okay" the small girl on the side murmured and touched the crying girl's arm gently.

"Yes, of course," she replied, but the hiccup following her assurance that everything was just fine contradicted her words.

"What can I do to help?" the small girl asked softly.

Her eyes were gentle, and she moved a little bit closer. The white-haired girl on the other side had turned slowly, and behind her, the curvy one was surveying the scene thoughtfully.