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chapter six ——wilted rose
SHE'S STANDING AT THE BAR, its the fancy one where women dress up in pearls and the men wear three-piece suits, its the one hidden on the corner of main street Chicago, hidden behind the facade of a prim and proper motel. Speakeasies were out of date, the 1920s gone and dusted.
Yet it was the sense of rebellion that drew everyone in, the need to feel like someone else for a while — even if that while was only for a night. It the memories of sneaking out at sixteen — drinking the night away, only to wake up the next morning, parents completely unaware of the events partaken the night before.
It was the rush of adrenaline.
And it was this rush of adrenaline, the fight or flight drug released, that made Jude go to the club that night - she was never one to go out, never one to enjoy blasting music or putting on copious amounts of makeup, but Vera had insisted that Jude take some time off, that she went and got a drink with some friends or saw a movie in the new cinema that had just been built into the mall.
Only Jude didn't have friends, she had people she could call if the occasion arose, but no friends — hell she hadn't spoken to anyone from her high school in years.
The bar was elusive, set in the basement of the motel, stools and chairs and swingers and singles crowed inside, some wanting to get lucky, others wanting to waste the night away. It was an invite-only entry, elusive and exclusive was the goal of the bar, and it had been more than achieved. The invite had come in the form of a red envelope and it had instructed Jude to bring herself and no one else.
