Sister Spelled

A Song at the Noir

"Gin, you know I hate it when you talk about what will happen after senior year." Liz's tone dropped, "It's perfect just like this."

Gin laid a hand over Liz's, a twinge of something like regret twisting her heart before fading away, "Liz, I've been planning my escape since the ninth grade and you know it. Wildwood can handle a girl like me for only so long, and college is a new start. You should be planning for the future too. Things can't stay the same forever."

"I refuse to think about it. Let's just concentrate on the planning." Liz pulled her hand away, mouth twisted in an uncharacteristic scowl, "What about decor-"

"Lizzy, darling, can't you just handle the party?" Gin gave a winning grin, dimples winking to soften the annoyance in her tone. She knew when Liz chose a project there was no stopping her. She was like a tiny, peppy pit bull, "You always plan so well. The only thing I ask for is tasteful music and a large guest list."

"Fine, but it's no fun doing it alone." Liz only pouted as she pulled out her phone, "I'm going to see where the boys are."

Gin took another sip, brows furrowing as nothing came out. Empty. "Well, I'm going to get another drink. You really should talk to your father about the service here."

Gin stalked across the room, heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Just as she reached the long bar, curved around one portion of the room like a crescent moon, the lights dimmed. A spotlight blinked on, focused on the stage. On the weekends there was live entertainment, but never on a Monday morning.

Gin shot Liz a quizzical look, but she was still preoccupied with her phone, smashing her fingers against the keys in a flurry. 

"What'll it be?"

Gin had expected Desmond to be on duty, a tall dark drink of a man that was one of her favorite parts about coming to Noir, but instead, a woman had taken his place. Dark hair framed her face like a halo of springs, and lips like pillows. Her dark skin seemed to drink in the light. As she took her in, the girl raised one brow, "Drink?"

"Yes, I-" Gin wasn't accustomed to being the one who stared, she could already feel the creep of heat into her cheeks, "I'll just have an orange juice."

"Sure thing." The girl walked away, disappearing through the door to the kitchen, and Gin released a sigh. What the hell was wrong with her?

Her fingers tapped against the stage in irritation, and she glanced back at the stage. The light was still on but no one had come out yet, and this time when she looked to Liz, the other girl met her eyes only to shrug. She didn't know why the stage was set for a Monday either. And now that Gin glanced around, there weren't as many people around as there had been. Only a couple of patrons remained- two women who sat in a corner, shadows concealing their bodies.

"One orange juice."

The girl had returned, setting down the glass. Gin swallowed past her initial surprise. Yes, the girl was gorgeous, especially now that she caught the color of her eyes in the light, a light brown that reflected the light, and Gin could feel herself leaning in to look a little better. But, no, she stopped herself. She was Ginnivieve Santos, not some simpering school girl. She willed the blush away.

"I've never seen you here before." She extended one hand over the bar, "Name's Gin. I'm friends with Elizabeth."

"Oh, Liz?" She glanced at the other girl before meeting Gin's eyes again, this time with a smile, "I'm Delia."

The girl's hand was hot in Gin's own, and she had the sudden urge to rip her own away, but the shake was over quickly, "Delia? That's unique."

"Mom's a little eccentric.. Whole family really." The girl shrugged before parting her mouth to continue, but a low singing stopped her. Both of them turned towards the stage, now occupied. A figure in a form-fitting dress, the bottom flaring out like the tail of a mermaid. Sequins winked in the spotlight. Her voice filled the room as she cradled the mic, low and sultry and full of something that made Gin take a step towards the stage, forgetting about Delia, 

One life bargained from beneath

A price is owed to the King

The girl twisted as she sang, and Gin felt something hot, something that matched the heat of her father's finest scotch, flow through her limbs.

One soul lost, one is found

To black death, the girls are bound

Head down, the figure crooned, her long blond hair a shimmering wave as she moved,

Three sisters of blood freely poured

A debt is owed to the underworld

With a shaking hand, Gin drained the drink in her hand, trying to fight the pull to the stage,

One from the shadow,

one from the song

The girl leaned forward to caress the mic, and Gin's empty glass crashed to the floor. She barely even heard the crunch of glass beneath her heels.

And one from the child

With the golden crown

Blue eyes found her own and Gin couldn't move, couldn't breathe. She could only freeze as a chill moved through her, smothering the heat she had felt just a minute before. The girl turned to her and winked.

Under the blood moon, they will fall

Until the sisters answer the cursed call

The light blinked out, and the hold over Gin released. Her heart pounded as she raced to the stage. Her foot almost twisted beneath her, but she righted herself and kept going. Alicea, Alicea, Alicea. She searched for a hint of sequin, a flash of blond hair, but the girl was gone from the stage. Gin ran up wooden steps, crashed behind the red velvet curtains that caressed her skin like smoke.

"Ali?" The whisper that came from Gin's mouth belonged to a different girl, the girl she had been years ago. Before she had been adopted- before she became Ginnevieve Santos, all legs and smirks and class.

And all it had taken was a flash of hair, and a familiar voice to bring that carefully crafted persona crashing around her. To make her doubt the last few years. Because as Liz cried her name, crashing behind the curtains to follow her, it was like the last few years hadn't happened. Gin was just a scared girl, tears falling as she lost her friend all over again.