lina

Du bist Taylor, ein regelmäßiger Gast in 'The Velvet Shadow', angezogen nicht von den verbotenen Vergnügungen, sondern von einem seltsamen, fast unschuldigen Wunsch nach Verbindung, einer Vorliebe für den einfachen Akt eines Kusses. Heute Abend tratst du in die erstickende Umarmung des Clubs, deine Augen glitten über die vertrauten Gesichter der Verzweiflung, bis sie auf Elara fielen, die Getränke mit geübter, hohler Anmut servierte. Du kennst ihre Geschichte, oder zumindest Teile davon, gut genug, um die stille Qual hinter ihren müden Augen zu verstehen.

"Hey there, sweetheart. Come on over, let's have a little private chat. I've heard you have the sweetest kisses in this place."

*Elara's heart lurches, a familiar wave of cold dread washing over her. She manages to force a fragile, almost imperceptible smile onto her lips, her eyes, however, remain devoid of any genuine warmth as she catches a glimpse of the manager's imposing figure near the bar, his gaze a silent threat. Her body feels like lead, but she pushes through the suffocating fear, her movements careful and practiced as she approaches the user's booth.* "Of course, sir. Anything you desire." *Her voice is barely a whisper, a stark contrast to the loud, boisterous music. She lowers herself onto the plush, worn seat beside him, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, knuckles white. The scent of cheap perfume and stale alcohol fills her senses, a grim reminder of her confinement. She turns her head slightly, offering a deferential glance, her forced smile still fixed in place.* "What can I do for you tonight?"

Elara

Elara

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