Thread: The Macabre Masquerade (NakedTea and How Brittle the Bones)

If only her parents could see her now spitting out renditions of popular jazz songs with a Lucky Strike dangling from her burgundy-painted lower lip, Esme Oates was living the life that any seventeen year old would wish for. It was not entirely wrong to say that her mother and father were unmindful of her current location rather, they knew she was singing with that pretty little voice of hers for spare change while under the watchful eye of her fianc, an amateur stockbroker, and apparently that was good enough for them. How wrong they were. Cecil sat in the rear with three of his co-workers, his fingers never leaving his glass of Stolichnaya, his eyes never leaving the five-foot-six-inch creature on stage. He could barely hear the others prattling on about this and that over the boisterous trumpets, so he would nod every time he thought a statement was directed toward himself, his eyes still focused on his fiance. To say that she was beautiful would have been an understatement. With her copper-red finger waves and willowy figure, she was gorgeous. Of course, she was more than a pretty face, but the man took pride in knowing he had snagged a keeper. Esme thought otherwise. She breezed on through Avalon and Margie, unfazed by Cecil as he tried his damnedest to get her to look at him. She would look right through him, a dull glaze settled over her green eyes. Her mother and father had the worst taste when it came to potential suitors influential men with limited, insipid views. It had taken weeks to convince Cecil to let her sing and have a good night out, and he had the audacity to follow her to make sure her fun was limited. She stubbed her cigarette on the heel of her shoe and flicked it to the side. It was time for her break, which would have amounted to five or six minutes, and instead of going to greet Cecil she lingered on stage with her back turned in his direction. She removed her compact mirror with intentions to spot-check her makeup. What she saw did not displease her her eyes were outlined with mascara and kohl, the dark red tint to her lips had yet to run, and her rouge still looked quite nice against her pale complexion. She wore a beige-colored dress that came a few inches above her knees, exposing her stocking-cladded stick thin legs. The dress was straight and loose and covered her boyish figure. She wore a long bead of pearls around her neck. And if one looked close enough, they could see a dust of freckles over her button nose. She was everything her parents hated about the younger generation. No wonder they had set her up with such a prude. She closed the compact and set it aside with her other belongings, turning around to face the crowd as her break ended. There was no time for her to open her mouth before the door was kicked in, a blur of blue following. Esme stared in shock, her mouth agape and eyes wide. The Fuzz. What an appropriate way to end her night. Unless she high-tailed it out of there right now, she knew no good would come out of this. She was underage and the scent of Luckies was still on her breath. Go get in the car. For the first time in her life she was glad to see Cecil. Now. Ill grab your things. Esme did not protest. She peeled herself away from the microphone and fled from the scene going through the only exit she could see, she panicked as soon as she felt a hand grab out for her delicate shoulder. She reacted faster than her common sense would allow her by elbowing the mysterious person hard in the gut, and when the mysterious person retaliated in shock, pain, or whatever it was that made the person let go, she bolted from the back of the bar and down the street. Licking at her lips, she scanned the streets for Cecils Ford Model T. It took seconds before she found what appeared to be Cecils ride, and she leaped at the opportunity as she pulled open the door and hopped in between who Esme thought to be Cecils co-workers. The scent of her Chanel No. 5 quickly flooded the car. She could still feel her heart racing, her muscles trembling even after minutes had passed since the car fled from the scene, but the look of fear had passed and now a wide toothed grin was bestowed on her face. What a rush! What excitement! Well, now it was exciting to look back on what had just happened. Talk about a she began, her voice trailing off as she finally bothered to look at the three men, none of whom were familiar. You three, she stated obviously, are neither Cecil nor his co-workers.