oh look. another lesbian. sweet.

[MAX BLEU]

listen! we've got a situation
← ← T H E Y ' R E A L W A Y S P U T T I N G U S D O W N ← ←

Tonight was going to be a good night.
Music was pulsing. Lights were flashing. and Hot damn.
Max looked good.

She'd definitely have to thank Wally later. He wasn't gay. Not one bit. but he'd make a fabulous gay guy. He was actually starting to change her opinion of men, Whether she realized it or not. And he had great fashion sense. and there was no way in hell she'd let him have the satisfaction of knowing she liked looking well, like a girl.

Max's green unicorn heels (or so she called them) clicked as she made her way down the street to the club. She thought she looked good in her tight purple dress that showed off her tattoos, miscellaneous jewelry, and blue fedora. The cat calls and whistles from guys on the streets made her ego grow.

Bouncing up to the door of the club, Max smiled. Flashing her pretty brown doe eyes and her best, man eating smile. The bouncer was putty in her hands.

"You can let me in babe, I'm old enough."

With a wink from her and a nod from him, she was in.

Maxine wandered around for a bit, until she spotted the bar. Pulling up a tool and pulling out her pipe, Max made herself comfy. She lit her pipe and let the familiar scent of vanilla wash over her. Normally, she wasn't a big drinker. Alcohol just didn't do it for little Maxie. Most of the time she stuck with smoking. But tonight, she was up for a bit of booze.

"Hey!"

She tapped the nearest girl on the shoulder. Almost immediately getting her attention.

"What do you recommend to drink around here?"

tag ! jenna ! outfit ! link to clothes ! lyrics ! we are the young , MCFLY ! notes ! notes here ! credit ! ALICIA the LISH ! steal and cucumber shankage occurs.

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[JENNA GRAY]

She stepped from the limousine, the heel of her right shoe clicking against the sidewalk. “Thanks Joe,” she said nonchalantly as she rummaged through her handbag, dislodging a thick roll of quarters and flicking it expertly through the driver’s window. “See you at five thirty.” She allowed her chauffer a small smile as he saluted, pulling away from the curb and into the blurry mess of movement that was New York City traffic. Jenna took a deep, haggard breath, feeling the familiar twinge of pain jabbing her vehemently across her chest.

She was blessed with about two seconds of cool evening air, the aroma of gourmet delicacies and street carts selling late dinners laced with the stench of the city streets. Then the paparazzi pounced. Jenna’s sight was clouded with camera upon camera, blinding lights flashing hostilely in every corner of her vision. Don’t photograph me, she thought, wrestling back the torrents of tears that were pushing to spring to her eyes. I’m hideous. I’m hideous. I’m hideous.

Then came the voices, as they always did. “What are your plans for the club tonight, Miss Ward?” “Got any special guests tonight, Miss Ward?” “When’s closing tonight, Miss Ward?” “What’s this we hear about a renovation, Miss Ward?”

Jenna steadily made her way across the sidewalk to the door of her club, pasting a smile on her face until her lips throbbed almost as violently as her chest. She made clever, witty, and poignant remarks to even the most vapid of questions, winking and nodding and nudging until she felt nauseous. “Just a normal night, sweetheart. We’ve got Rick Johnson and the Pepper Corns in the lineup for tonight, with Optimal Orange dropping in around one tomorrow, and a special surprise on Sunday, dear. I can’t disclose the details now, but know that we’ll certainly be upscaling some aspects of our look in the near future, honey.” Why do you crowd me? I am disgusting. I am disgusting.

She twinkled her fingers in a princessy wave as she stepped through the glass revolving door and into the 40/40 Club. She accelerated her gait, strolling briskly through the marble lobby, nodding approvingly at the various attendants busily setting up for the night. She reached the bouncer on the far end with the remnants of a smile still sending pulses of pain through her face. Pain. She was going to be drowning in it for the next eleven hours. “Evening, Zeke. Slow tonight?”

“You’re just in time, Miss Ward.”

[/b] Zeke blushed a bright shade of pink, shuffling to the side to allow her to enter. “Things are heating up in there.”[/b]

“Please, call me Jenna,” laughed her voice. Please, call me Jay, said zir mind. Jenna smiled, dipping her head politely as she entered the club.

The crowd was decent, if not the largest that the 40/40 had ever housed. The members milled throughout the floor, clinking glasses and chattering politely. Jenna knew that this sophisticated atmosphere would not last long by any standards. Still, it was nice to enjoy the hour or so before the music and the guests turned raucous. Jenna moved forward into the room, knowing that she should mingle.

But first, a drink.

She made her way to the bar, slipping elegantly between guests, waving and exchanging greetings while keeping her eyes on the bartender. She was a new hire, and Jenna needed to observe her technique. Also, she was awfully thirsty.

“Tutankhamen please, Linda,” she said, pulling herself onto one of the stools. She kept a close eye on Linda’s hands, her technique as she drew the glass smoothly towards the tap. She had about twelve bartenders lined up for this job, and she knew that Linda knew this too. She’d have to see how the girl acted under pressure.

"Hey!"

Jenna turned, briefly taking her eyes from the barmaid. A young woman with blonde hair and brown eyes glared coyly at her from the stool opposite. Grimacing inwardly, Jenna allowed the fabricated smile to return to her features. “Why hello there,” she replied, feigning the flirtatiousness and seductiveness that she had always been such an expert at manipulating.

"What do you recommend to drink around here?"

“Recommend?” Customers at the 40/40 didn’t generally request ‘recommendations’ when it came to alcohol. Still, everyone was different, she supposed. “Sam Adams Utopia is good, if you’ve got the dough. Or you know someone.”She chuckled, turning back to the bar, where Linda was still doing an admittedly fine job dishing out the drinks. “A Utopia over here, Linda, when you’ve got a second to spare?” She pointed at the woman beside her. “She’s with me.”

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- tag : Max!
- notes : say what?
- words : 772
- music : A Red Sox Game
- outfit : Clickey
- credit : template brought to you by The_Actress. lyrics from RIVER by LIGHTS!