Lorenzo was downing shots at the bar, watching the show and enjoying himself as much as he could have been in a place like this. Booze helped with being homesick. He hated this place. Hated his lack of influence, his lack of power. Everything was just one big pile of shit.
Enzo glanced at the stage, tipped his newly acquired bottle of beer to his lips and contemplated where he was going to go from here. For all his recklessness and anger issues, he had been int he business of gunning people down long enough to know when he had no weight to throw around. It was naturally in him to be a leering prick, honestly, he couldn't help that part of his personality.
When he'd gone home to Angelo, red in the face and so angry he could barely speak, his friend hadn't left him alone about it. It was some reverse psychology shit, how Angelo had Lorenzo admitting what happened.
God. Fuck this place.
He wasn't quite hammered, but he was drunk enough that his body felt light and pleasant, teetering the line. He could hold his alcohol and knew how to manage himself. Enzo rarely got blackout drunk, but on nights like these he liked to get drunk enough to forget (or simply not care) about all the problems he had.
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Last edited:
- Mar 20, 2014
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Marie, the little French dhampir girl, was working the bar that night—rapidly shifting back and forth between customers on a rather busy night. In general, Club Gambit was a social club—customers came to hook up with each other, or to talk to the servers. So the one guy drinking completely alone, obviously irritable, was a bit unusual…but Marie was there to serve drinks, so that is what she did. He was obviously absorbed into his own thoughts and not too interested in chit-chat.
So Marie kept moving from one end of the bar to the other, keeping up with the high demand for drinks. But soon, she wasn’t alone as Yura Bengall slid behind the bar. Marie’s attention was completely on her for the moment as Yura slid an arm around her waist and whispered in her ear. It was a bit funny—the two were the same height, and yet Yura had a natural presence that Marie could not compare. One was the obvious boss, and the other an obvious underling by comparison.
After Yura finished talking briefly to Marie—just work related business—she slid her arm from the girl’s waist but did not leave the bar just yet. The truth was—she had seen Lorenzo earlier. It was rather amusing—of all the places he could have walked into, he ended up in her club after the events of the Winter Holidays Party. How unfortunate for him.
Being a busy woman, she was not able to get to him right away. He was not exactly top priority. But now…now she had a little time, and now she stood in front of him from behind the bar.
“Hello, Lorenzo,” Yura said with a big, wide smile as she leaned toward him from across the bar. Those who didn’t know Yura might have thought it a flirtatious action. Those who did know Yura saw something a bit more sinister.
“How about we have a little chat, hm?”
So Marie kept moving from one end of the bar to the other, keeping up with the high demand for drinks. But soon, she wasn’t alone as Yura Bengall slid behind the bar. Marie’s attention was completely on her for the moment as Yura slid an arm around her waist and whispered in her ear. It was a bit funny—the two were the same height, and yet Yura had a natural presence that Marie could not compare. One was the obvious boss, and the other an obvious underling by comparison.
After Yura finished talking briefly to Marie—just work related business—she slid her arm from the girl’s waist but did not leave the bar just yet. The truth was—she had seen Lorenzo earlier. It was rather amusing—of all the places he could have walked into, he ended up in her club after the events of the Winter Holidays Party. How unfortunate for him.
Being a busy woman, she was not able to get to him right away. He was not exactly top priority. But now…now she had a little time, and now she stood in front of him from behind the bar.
“Hello, Lorenzo,” Yura said with a big, wide smile as she leaned toward him from across the bar. Those who didn’t know Yura might have thought it a flirtatious action. Those who did know Yura saw something a bit more sinister.
“How about we have a little chat, hm?”
Lorenzo was normally more observant. Being in the mob meant you had to be, the higher up, the more perceptive. That was reduced by heavy drinking and irritated incoherent thoughts. He didn't take notice of Yura until she slid in front of him and spoke directly to him.
For a moment, he could have almost imagined he was home, with someone calling out to him on one of his bad days. He looked up at her bleary-eyed, but once recognition lit his face the sneer he wore only grew.
"For fuck's sake. Ya a bartender?" It didn't even register to Lorenzo that Yura might have been the owner, that wasn't a matter of sexism so much as Enzo was too drunk to connect any two dots.
Inebriated as he was, he knew Yura's leaning in closer to him was not flirtatious, and even if it had been, he'd have not gone for it. The bitch put a blade to his neck, after all.
"Fuck. No way. I don't wanna talk to you." He stood up, fully intending to leave.
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