It’s dim in this dark little place. A jazz tune is softly playing in the background with a nice calming aroma. The arrangement of furniture was welcoming as well. The nice dark grey and red seats in the back with glass tables in the center had a single sheltered candle placed there, illuminating the small space of the confined seats. Across from the secluded area of candles where normal wooden tables and chairs sitting in front of the stage. The small, old time lamps centering the tables gave off as much light as the dimness of candles. Secretly, in the right hand corner of the club, was a bar made from a dark oak wood with bar stools from the same tree and dark leather seats. On the wall was glass upon glass shelves containing everything from the worlds finest champagne to, backwoods moonshine. At the bar, a late teens/very early twenties, red head was wiping down the bar. She was grumbling to herself, cursing someone to be more exact. No one else was around, for the club wasn’t going to open for another hour or so.
"… believe he did that! It was just so easy, wasn’t it? Having the perfect body, mind, and soul. Oh wait, he doesn’t have a soul right? He’s supposedly an Angel that can’t feel, love, or consider any emotions into their perfectly shaped heads. God, he pisses me off so much. Oops." She looks up into your color filled eyes and registers your essence. Dropping the cloth, non-shalauntly, back onto the bar, she takes in your face with her lavender eyes, studying every crevice and line, forcing your image into her brain. It feels like you have been staring for hours in her eyes, but it has only been minutes. She smiles promptly and overs you her hand. Shaking it, you notice the weird tattoo brand on her wrist. You swear its something you have seen before, but quickly forget and brush the feeling off.
"I didn’t notice you come in. Sorry. I’m Kiala. The bartender and co-owner of this place. I know its kind of dark in here, but it gives me the feel of an old Jazz club. I really do miss the 20’s. The whole time was just wonder. Jazz music pouring from every downtown window. The celebration and romance was everywhere you went. The cars were sleek and polished. Feathers flying everywhere, and the men! Such gentlemen back then. Just, magnificent…"
Kiala starts to day dream of the past, causing you to wonder if she really was there. How could she though? This was March, of 2013. Not October of 1922. She would be dead if she was there and surely wouldn’t look like how she does. You think, it would be nice though wouldn’t it? The parties and drink, the music filling your every vein with lust and happiness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Suddenly she’s there. First the smell of cigerattes, sweat, and perfume fills her nostrils. Second, she hears the sweet voice of Billy Holiday, then Louis Armstrong playing his trumpet solo up on a well lit stage. She looks down to the floor below the platform of music and notices people dancing. Her mind is currently blowing by the many colors of the dresses, feathers in the hair, and pearls around the women’s necks. The men all dressed in black or white tuxedos, dancing along with them while the beads from the dresses hit their sides.
She notices that she’s standing in the entrance and quickly side steps away to let the other members adventure to their paradise. She feels soft touches on her bare pale legs, causing her to look down. She freezes in place, not to dare move an inch. Cautiously, she turns toward the wall only to be greeted by a surprisingly beautiful image. The dress was made of navy blue silk, with the assortment of pearl glass beads hanging down in three layers. The cold pressure of a necklace was making it self known on her, thought to be, bare chest. Slowly, she reachs with one hand to feel the metal, to look down and discover, the shape was of a peacock with an actual feather as the tail. The big surprise to her was the girl staring back when she looked back up again.
Her auburn brown hair was curled and pressed against her soft porcelain face. Her cheek bones were, if she had to guess, very similar to Nina Dobrev’s. Except her skin was a milky white and her lips were a light pink/red. Her height was shorter and smaller. The heels she was wearing must have at least made her 5’8. She moved her eyes from her glitter navy blue heals, to, meet the girls in the mirror. They were a soft blue with milky brown trimmed around the pupil. Nothing like her dark emerald ones she remembered, yet, something told her this was her. It had to be, because if it wasn’t, than…
She didn’t notice, till a hand drifted to her shoulder, that someone had been standing behind her. She swiftly broke the trance she was in, forcing her eyes to look up into the man’s reflection. Instantly, she was mesmerized by his beauty.
His skin was the color of mocha and caramel, with hair that was brown with tips like gold. His black suit barely doing him justice on hiding his figure. The line of his face was square, but smooth in the perfect way every woman dreamed. The man’s lips were a taunting light natural pink with an outline of soft caramel like his skin. She wanted so badly to just barely touch them, though, something else grasped her attention. The eyes.
It was like looking into a river of gold and ice. The swirls of the two were breath taking-ly wonderful. To her, the colors were circling around, wrapping her in warmth and comfort. Just by looking, having that glance, makes her feel like she can trust this unknown man. She can say or do anything and yet, something was telling her to leave. To run away and hide so he will never be able to find her.
"Hello sweet Rose. I have been waiting for you for a long while. Where have you been hiding?"
She moves away from his touch in disgust and turns to face him. But, it wasn’t her doing that. She wouldn’t have ever forced herself away from him. No. It had to be the other girl, Rose. But how? How was she even here in the first place? She was leaning against the bar, saw the tattoo, watched Kiala drift into a day dream, and than, what? She couldn’t remember. She started to freak out when she felt a hand on her waist, pulling her towards the dance floor. She obviously missed some of the conversation during her thoughts.
"What do you want this time Haydin? I have already discussed most of the business with Quentin. So the only thing you could want to do is compel me back to your hotel room."
She, or Rose, was looking distastefully at Haydins’ face while forcing the words through her clenched teeth. Haydin looked down to her eyes, searching for anything that might remotely show something other than hatred. He must have failed because he huffs out a breath and looks back in the direction of Louis, hearing him start out playing slow and low.
"This is just business, I promise. They figured out that you can’t die," The two reach the dance floor, causing Haydin to twirl Rose once then, gently press her into him. He smiles a cocky smile, while, Rose’s resembles a frustrated sneer. "so you’re fine there. I have one question though Rose. Don’t you miss this? Us dancing around to slow jazz, holding the other close, sneaking soft kisses between, and exchanging sweet nothing’s secretly?"
Rose closes her eyes, breaths in an annoyed deep breath of his woody spice scent, releasing it all too soon. She had been missing it, since the day she left him in the covers asleep, almost three years ago. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, be able to lie to him. So she decides to tell the truth while they swayed back and forth in a waltz. Opening her eyes again, she stared into those eyes that can make anyone melt for him on the spot.
"Haydin. I do. God, I do so much, you don’t reali-"
"Then why?! Why did you leave me there?! Do you realize how scared I was? I thought the Council found you, or worse, Quentin. I tore the house apart till I found the letter you taped under the dresser drawer. I just. I just couldn’t handle it. Do you realize what I did after that?!" His golden ice eyes were swirling faster and faster, his grip tightening, but, he never let her stop dancing. The girl guessed his eyes reacted to his emotions. Though, Rose already knew this. "I went on a rampage and tried so many ways to murder that basta-"
Haydin was raising his voice, causing Rose to quickly shush him with a rough kiss. She didn’t mean too, but, that’s the only way she knows on how to get him to being quiet when so serious, and furious, about a topic of their love life.
Haydin is shocked at first, but quickly comes to his senses, and kisses forcefully back, trying to capture all of her lips before she pulls away. Holding her in his arms had brought back so many memories and dreams. He had missed her for so long that when she finally broke the kiss, he refused and kissed her back even sweeter, cupping her face with his hand and pressing her into him with the other. He wouldn’t let her go. Not this time. He had to eventually end it, for the eyes they had and still were attracting. By then, they were both breathing hard and neither let the other go, till, Rose forced herself to push him away with both hands on his chest.
"I know what you did. You don’t have to say it. Quentin tol-" All to suddenly, Rose and the girl felt a sharp, but fast, moving pain go through their spine, than, through their lung. Rose looked down at the already forming blood stain on her dress and almost falls to the floor, but, Haydin reaches her head just inches from the floor.
She faintly hears the music stop, a woman screaming, and felt Haydin holding her in his arms against his chest tight but loose. Afraid if he slacks even a little, she will crumble away through the floor all too soon.
"Rose. Rose! Come on Dreamer. You can’t leave! You can’t die on me right now! Please. Please! I just got you back!"
Rose smiled up to Haydin, blood already starting to trickle from her lips, and whispered something for only him to hear. Focusing on his gorgeous face, staring intensely into his eyes, that now looked like a raging storm between fire and ice, blocking out everything else around her.
"You need to find Quentin." She heaves and coughes a little clump of blood, slipping through her small fingers, spattering all over Haydins’ suit, staining mostly on the white dress shirt. "Ha. That was my favorite one. Quent will have all the answers to your questions. I’ll see you soon, Hay."
Rose stares into Haydins’ eyes, seeing water form into them, waiting for them to spill over. Rose knew better though. Angels couldn’t cry. They can’t do anything that shows they feel. She didn’t care though. She knows he feels for her even if he can’t show it here on Earth. She will always love him.
"Forever my Dreams…" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She gasps and reaches for the bar. What did she just go through?! She just died and came back to life! She was in the 1920’s, with music, and dancing, and-
She quickly feels around her back and chest, feeling nothing but the cloth of her shirt. She let go of the breath she was holding in. She turns towards, now watching, Kiala who had saw her random outburst with confusion and curiosity. Before she could get out a word, Kiala placed a shot of whiskey in front of her, the girl gently pushed it away from her.
"It helps. I swear it gets easier. I’ll explain later what happened, but right now, you need to drink that."
Kiala pushed the liquid back towards her without even spilling a drop. The girl just stared into the liquid, sighed, then knocked it back. The taste was like an intense sweet perfume, causing Kiala to laugh at the girls reaction.
"So. You got a name there girl? Wait," She held up a hand, thinking that the navy blue haired girl was about to answer, wanting to guess for herself. "let me guess. Is it Tina?"
The girl could barely be able to shake her head, let alone fathom what just happened to her only a couple of minutes ago. She was about to ask about what happened, when Kiala cut her off again.
"No? Then, how about this: Athena."
The girl looked up into the womans’ lavender eyes and stared. How could she have known that quickly? No one has ever guessed her name that fast. Most think her name is old and misplaced for a quiet person like her, to be named after the Goddess of War.
"Ho-how did you know?"
The woman winks and smirks slyly at the 6’1 feet, porcelain cream skin, emerald jade wide eyes, soft pink lips, soft narrowed shape face, skinny, quiet, beautiful seventeen year old girl.
"I know a lot more about you then you think."