Barfly

Cassandra couldn't stay in her hotel room a minute longer.

It was obvious her new roommate was starstruck. To Samantha's credit she was trying to play it cool, but the glimmer in her excited eyes, the way she being just a little too deferential gave her away. She really did seem like a nice girl, but she couldn't seem to quite get past the excitement of getting to share a room with the star of her favorite childhood show. Cassandra just didn't have the energy for that right now. As soon as Samantha had entered the shower, Cassandra took advantage of the opportunity to slip out.

She made her way to the first floor of the hotel and found her way to the barroom. It was certainly one of the classier hotel bars she had ever seen. A heavy, curved L-shaped counter of dark hardwood, beautifully varnished and ringed with matching bar chairs dominated one side of the room. Along the opposite and farside walls ran tall-backed, cushioned leather booths. The lights were tastefully dim, and alongside the wall she had just entered through stood a small raised stage with a black baby grand piano. As she scanned the room, she discovered she wasn't the only one there. Bailey had apparently beaten her down.

Cassandra tried to suppress a sigh. She wasn't feeling very sociable right now. Still, she made her way up to the bar, her high heels clicking against the hardwood floor. Bailey seemed too absorbed in her fruity cocktail to notice her approach. She seemed more relaxed now then when Cassandra had last seen her. She supposed the mostly empty cocktail glass might have something to do with that. It was only as she drew nearer that she noticed that Bailey's hair was slightly frazzled and she was still coated with the slight sheen of sweat. As she slide into a bar chair three seats down from the other woman, Cassandra was approached by the barkeep, a man wearing a white button-down shirt with a black vest, his sleeves rolled up. She ordered a whiskey, neat, and began to sip on it as the barkeep cleaned a cocktail glass with a towel. There was no TV or any other distractions, so Cassandra watched the man diligently clean the glass.

“That's all he's been doing since I got here.”

Cassandra turned towards the black woman, but Bailey kept her eyes on the barkeep.

“Unless he's taking your order or making a drink all he does is clean glasses.” Bailey absentmindedly stirred the remnants of her cocktail with it's tiny straw, still staring at the man. “No one else has come in here besides us. How many dirty glasses could he have?”

Cassandra watched as the barkeep put the cocktail glass away beneath the counter, before he pulled out a beer glass and began to dutifully wipe it down. A beer glass that already looked quite clean. If he could hear them, he made no sign of it.

“I think it's for the aesthetic.” Cassandra mused.

“The what?”

“The aesthetic. It's for the look. Look, this whole place is Hollywood themed, right? I think this guy is cleaning glasses because that's what movie bartenders do. He's like an extra that has to look busy in the background.”

“Huh.” Bailey took a long sip and finished her drink. “Well, as long as he doesn't try to start listening to my problems and offering me life advice that's fine.”

Cassandra couldn’t quite find it in her to smile at the joke. She threw back the rest of her whiskey, and ordered another. Sure enough, the bartender poured her drink, then went back to cleaning drink glasses.

“You know, you could get a better whiskey,” Bailey offered unsolicited.

“I like the cheap stuff,” Cassandra replied shortly, hoping the girl would take the hint. “I don’t drink it for the taste.”

“That’s not...look, everything at this bar is free. I checked. Why not take advantage?”

Cassandra continued to stare down her tumbler of cheap booze. Bailey sighed, and waved the bartender over.

“Two glass of Lagavulin 31. You can leave the bottle.”

As the barkeep retrieved the bottle and two glasses and began to pour, Bailey moved over to the seat next to Cassandra. She took one of the tulip shaped glasses in hand, while gently nudging the other towards the former child star.

“C’mon. Don’t make me drink this alone.”

Cassandra sighed heavily, then wordlessly took the glass. She’d never had Lagavulin before, but she suspected that the taste would probably be partially wasted on her. Bailey raised her glass in a “cheers” motion that Cassandra barely bother to return before she took a careful, measured sip.

The taste was exquisite. The scotch whiskey initially had a smokey taste, reminiscent of old hardwoods, before it gave way to a hint of dark chocolate. There was a light suggestion of citrus and nuts as she swallowed it down.

“Wow…” She said quietly. “That’s pretty great.”

“I know right?” Bailey was wearing a loopy I-told-you-so grin. “I first got a taste of it at an Oscar afterparty last year. The studio my Dad works for was feeling generous.”

This time Cassandra managed to give a polite smile as she tried to ignore the Hollywood excess Bailey so casually mentioned.

Bailey suddenly let out a short bark of a laugh that drew Cassandra's questioning gaze.

“Sorry,” Bailey said with a wry half-smile, “it's just I didn't expect to end my day drinking with the star of Lily Livin' Loud. I used to watch that show all the time growing up.”

“A fan, huh?” Cassandra fought the urge to immediately throw back her scotch. “You could have fooled me earlier when you found out who I was,” she continued dryly while slowly sipping.

“No offense 'Lily,' but I don't think you crack even the top 100 most famous people I've met.” Bailey's loopy grin appeared to be here to stay. Cassandra was beginning to wonder how many cocktails her companion had drank before she arrived.

“That meathead kid on the show, Richard, or Riley or something? He was my first childhood crush.” Bailey reminisced with a faraway look in her eye.

“ 'Riker?' ” Cassandra laughed. “The bully?”

“Hey! He was tall, muscular and cute! What can a girl say?”

Cassandra chuckled into her whiskey glass. “You know he was gay, right?”

“What?! No...”

“Super gay and a total sweetheart off camera. Obviously the producers tried to keep that quiet while the show was running. Him and 'Peter' eventually ended up together.”

“The dweeb loser?! Shit...”

“Yep. They have a small cabin just outside Sacramento. I get a Christmas card from them every year.”

It was Bailey's turn to laugh now.

“Figures. I do know how to pick 'em. Hey, what about 'Becky?' You keep up with her?”

Cassandra's face suddenly fell at the mention of her former costar and “friend.”

“No,” She drained her scotch and poured herself another.

Bailey opened her mouth like she was going to ask something, then shut it as she seemed to think better of it. Instead she raised her glass to take a sip. As she did, she inadvertently raised her glass too far and some of the scotch spilled out around the corners of her mouth. It ran down her chin and dribbled onto her exposed chest, landing right beneath her collarbone. Before Bailey could react, Cassandra was already dabbing up the liquid with a napkin.

“Uhhhhh...” Bailey was too shocked (and tipsy) to respond with anything further.

Cassandra suddenly realized what she was doing.

“Shit...I...I'm so sorry.” Cassandra threw the used napkin across the bar like it had burned her. “I think that was my cleaning transformation...”

Bailey just stared at her stunned for a moment.

“What did it feel like?” She finally blurted out.

“What?”

“What...what did it feel like? Being **** to clean me?” Bailey asked a little more cagily this time.

Cassandra thought for a moment. The reaction had been so fast she barely had time to recognize what she was doing much less how it felt.

“It felt...you know when you tell someone they have something stuck in their teeth? And you're trying to give them directions to get it out, but they just keep missing it?”

Bailey nodded slowly.

“And eventually it gets to the point where you're so uncomfortable watching you wish you could just get it yourself? Kinda like that I guess...” Cassandra finished uncertainly, staring into her drink. She wasn't truly satisfied with that description, but Bailey was nodding like it made perfect sense. The two women sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity to Cassandra.

“Do you mind if...can I ask what yours feels like?” she finally asked Bailey.

“MY transformation?” Bailey looked slightly surprised.

“Yes...You don't have to answer...” Cassandra finally raised her gaze from her drink and looked at the woman sitting next to her, who was uncertainly chewing on her lip.

“No, no, it's ok.” Bailey reassured her. “I asked first, it's only fair.”

She took a long swig from her scotch before answering.

“Well...the horniness doesn't really feel any different. It's just the being tied to my anger part that's weird. If I'm annoyed it's just a mild buzz, you know? Like you just saw someone really sexy across the room. That's not too bad. But as I get angrier...”

Bailey shook her head and gently pressed her legs together.

“God...we're really in a shitty situation, aren't we?” Cassandra sighed.

Bailey's eyes flashed.

“At least you didn't spend the day on the verge of orgasming in front of a bunch of strangers,” she spat. Her last few words were more of a gasp.

Cassandra held up her hands defensively.

“True...but the way this show is shaping up, I wouldn't be surprised if we weren't all at risk of doing that by the end.”

That seemed to soothe Bailey somewhat, and her anger deflated. She shifted slightly in her bar chair.

“Hey, all the more reason to drink the good stuff now, right?” Cassandra said as she held out the bottle of Lagavulin as a peace offering.

Bailey gave Cassandra a sad smile as she took the bottle and refilled her glass. They spent the rest of the bottle chatting about anything but show business or their current circumstances. Cassandra wasn't sure if it was the **** or her recent loneliness, but she found herself actually enjoying Bailey's company. It was enough to almost make her forget the shitty situation.