In hindsight, I'm wondering why I didn't just have Irene picking me up from home herself in the first place. Saves plenty of time, plenty of effort, and I wouldn't be in here at the back of the bus, fighting the futile fight against the gentle sway of inertia and keeping myself awake.

The thing was, she's a smart girl… the thinking, scheming type 24/7. The thought must have crossed her mind at some point, which must also mean that the fact that I'm still here anyway sticking out like the sorest, fanciest thumb amongst the casual-wearing crowd, she must have ultimately decided against it. 

Why? And why a dinner date, anyway? Since when has our thing in common been our shared love for pint-sized ridiculously overpriced candlelit meals on clothed tables, huh? After my last experience with fancy-schmancy restaurants, I daresay I'm not super keen on a second venture so soon after the last.

What if the manager here has a limp too? Well, let's just pray we won't be needing his assistance, I suppose…

By the time I got off the rock-a-bye bus, rubbing groggy eyes, and yawning my widest yet, the sky was already tinged with a cool blue, blowing an even cooler breeze.

According to my precise triangulations and the position of Orion and the Big Dipper the way they were… I deduced that the restaurant in question was somewhere right around the corner. 

I walked the sidewalk, head empty, hand stroking my neck, and my lips still tingling with that soft, warm sensation… her sensation. No, don't think, don't get distracted, you're not supposed to! Your life here depends now on your seducing prowess. Don't fuck it up.

You told her you wouldn't. 

Argh, stop thinking of her!

The building to my side reflected my strides back to me in its clear glass panels. Mirror-man walked hunched, strolled struggled… not exactly looking the illustrious beauty to any beholder here.

I stopped, turned, meeting his tired gaze face-to-face. I spent a few moments there amending every glaring blemish I could find. Starting with his bent posture, straightening it upright, and keeping it upright. After that I worked on ironing out the creases on his face, before moving on to those lifeless eyes of his.

Slowly but surely, he was finally looking just a touch shy from charming. His suit was fine, his tie was slick… it was just his hair now, they looked ruffled. Why were they ruffled?

Just a single wonder, a second's ponder… and I was back to thinking of her, and the way her hand, so gentle, so light, glided through them. I could just almost feel her still there…

Goddamn it.

"That settles it, man," I whispered to the mirror-man. "You're gonna die tonight."

His stare back at me didn't seem to disagree with that assessment, in fact, that small smile slowly forming made it seem like he was amused by the whole thing, really.

Then as soon as it appeared, that smile had already faded. His eyes remained staring forward, but he wasn't looking at me… and I wasn't looking at him. No, beyond him, beyond the glass panel.

Clothed tables layered in velvet, pint-sized ridiculously overpriced meals served up on golden platters. Fancy tuxes, alluring dresses, seated on either side by candlelight.

But among them all, one stood the only outlier, like a glittering diamond in a sea of deep silver and gold. Distance did absolutely nothing to belittle her beauty, and even through the looking glass I still found myself catching my breath at the first glimpse of her.

Red. Stark red running along her smooth, pale white skin. A red evening dress, with an open seam revealing one of her long luscious legs. Low-cut too, exposing her shoulders, showing a lot…  but showing just enough.

Her hair was braided, tied, a sleek long ponytail with her bangs in swirling stands… and was that makeup she's wearing there? That faint blush on her cheek, the bright red on her lips, and since when does she wear earrings? And… and also… also…

Who the hell is that sitting with her there? Talking to her there? Smiling at her there? Laughing… 

A man, a fancy man, and a wealthy man too by the looks of it…

Where the hell's the damn entrance?

I trailed the side of the building, rounding the next corner in a whirl, coming upon a grand entryway befitting with its own grand awning and rolling red carpet. A team of handsomely dressed valets standing ready by a podium at a moment's notice for the next luxurious vehicle to roll on by. 

As I walked past and towards the double mahoganized wooden doors adorned in intricate gold, they made it their absolute pleasure to bow and welcome me in, with one of them even hurriedly pacing forward to pull open the door with a gesture inwards and a smile.

Once in, the first thing I noticed was that the restaurant had an air, an elegant air, the kind I never, ever breathed in, and if I were to let out my own air, I'd risk contaminating it. It's something that's gonna take some getting used to.

The reception lady was the second one to approach me. Wearing a practiced smile, she asked, "Reservation?"

My eyes looked past her briefly, seeing that same table filled, that same man chuckle.

"Ah, yeah, reservation…" My eyes returned. "Irene Madison, table for two. Seven o'clock."

"Yes, yes, I remember, just a moment," with a gloved finger, she searched her list, stopping the next moment, glancing up at me with a peculiar look on her face. "Twenty minutes late, I see." 

I nodded. "That's me."

She gave me another look, before slowly raising her hand forward. "Table in the center. Lovers course meal. Would you like me to take you there?"

"No, that's fine," I told her, already marching forward before I even finished. "I know where she is." 

I slithered between teeming tables, weaving past scurrying waiters, the closer I got, the better I could see, the better I could hear. The man sounded grand, trying a little bit too hard to exude magnificence. 

He was just about to ask why not he keeps her company for the rest of the night, but he never got to finish, sad for him… on account of me tapping him hard on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, sir," I said, momentarily forgetting my manners. "But you're in my seat there." 

The exact moment I entered the fray, and she caught sight of me, Irene's eyes seemed to flare up like beacons in the foggy night. She straightened herself in place, her lips parting open to say something.

But before she could, the man right around towards me, and let me tell you, he looked exactly as he sounded - pompous. Glittering rings on his fingers, the most extravagantly groomed mustache I've ever laid eyes on, with eyes leering me up and down, narrowing with disdain.

"I beg your pardon?" He asked, too overtly polite with his words, with his smile. "You seem to be mistaken, for this seat is mine. You see, I was just about to ask my fair lady here to accompany me to my home. You're more than welcome to take the table after the fact, alright, not before." 

Irene, unbeknownst to him, was drearily rolling her eyes, stifling a sigh, so brazenly exposing his already unconvincing lie. 

"Nice try, but I think the lady would much prefer to pass on that offer," I firmly pressed a hand on the table. "Now would you rather refuse, and I call staff to kindly escort you away, or you refuse, and I personally escort you out myself. It's really your choice, sir." 

"Surely, you can't be serious?" He chuckled, no longer hiding the contempt he harbored. "Do you have any idea who I am?"

"I dunno, a pig?" I replied, staring unyielding into his scorn. "Or at the very least you do oink like one. Next time, try a farm… probably more your style. Now if you'd kindly waddle away, I'd be more than happy to point you to the nearest one." 

"Please," He tried to scoff aloof, but the furrow in his brow told otherwise. "You really expect me to believe in your lie? Have you no sense at all? Someone like you, dressed like you, speaks like you, would, in any event, be in the company of someone like her?" 

"Well, why not? It's a more believable prospect than her being in the company of someone like you, don't you think?"

He grumbled, he murmured. "You little piece of - "

"Hey, if you're still adamant, why not let the lady have her say, then?" I lifted my hand from the table, waving it forward across from me. "Irene? What do you wanna do?"

The man faced forward again, surprised in his eyes from the sound of her name leaving my lips. "You told me your name was Jean." 

Irene breathed out in amusement, both hands on the table. 

"Mr. Ferdinand, I really do find your talks about your winery utterly fascinating, and I appreciate your offer to keep me company, but, as you can evidently see before you now..." She glanced at me, a wry smirk shaping her crimson lips.. "I got a date waiting." 

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