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It was close to an hour past posted show time, and Ashe needed a cigarette like nothing else.
On the one hand, she absolutely could’ve been helping out more. Back when she’d done a little local work here and there, she’d frequented this bar on more than one Thursday night showcase. She could’ve pointed the bewildered touring acts towards the green room, could’ve helped track down the still-missing usual sound man, could’ve helped smooth out load-in. Then again, the new proprietors of the Winter’s Claw had already told her in no uncertain terms that they neither needed nor wanted her help these days, so, hey, if they insisted. Not her circus, not her monkeys.
Not that the absolute shitshow of a gig wasn’t really, really trying her resolve. But she wasn’t about to kick off her weekend getting kicked out of a bar she was trying to enjoy, either.
The cold evening wind cut through the black lace of her top like nothing as she stepped outside, but that meant little more than the day ending in “y.” Really, she was more concerned with what a pain in the ass lighting up was going to be with the wind whipping through the venue entryway than she was with the temperature. As it was, this was just the warmest it was going to get tonight.
Ashe drew her pack from her coat pocket, tapping it a time or two against her thigh before drawing one out. She’d no sooner steadied the cigarette in the corner of her mouth when a sharp wolf-whistle and a holler of “hey-hey, pretty girl, lemme talk to you!” rang out from the parking lot.
As if the night wasn’t already annoying enough.
Ashe whipped around, already reaching up to grab her cigarette so she could properly tear into whatever utter jackass had the nerve to try it with her tonight, but the sarcastic little finger-wave and shock of red hair registered before the expletives could start flying.
“Oh, great, who invited you?” Ashe scoffed aloud, smiling nonetheless as Sarah half-jogged to the door. “Surprised to see you out, I’d kinda figured you weren’t coming tonight. Later than you like to get here.”
“I kinda thought about not coming, but then I remembered I pre-paid my door charge and would’ve been pissed to be out the cash.” Sarah yanked Ashe in for her usual hug, and Ashe only barely had the time to return it before Sarah was pulling away again, cursing and shoving her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket. “Ashe, it is so fucking cold out here oh my god how do you people live like this?”
Ashe laughed at that—paused to finally light her cigarette—grinned as she took a lazy draw. “Is it that bad?” She’d lived here all her life, of course, but Sarah never missed a chance to bitch about the temperature when she visited. “I was thinking it was actually kind of balmy out today. Unseasonably warm, even.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Sarah laughed, bouncing on the balls of her feet to try to work some warmth into her system. “I feel like I’m in one of those old SPCA commercials. ‘If you’re cold, they’re cold, bring them inside.’ But with smokers.”
“Nobody’s keeping you out here.”
“Hm.” Sarah held out a gloved hand, beckoning with two fingers. “Mind if I grab a hit, actually?”
Ashe finished her drag and raised a brow, but passed the cigarette over anyway. “Little miss I-quit-smoking over here.”
“Yeowch, the scathing repartee of it all,” Sarah deadpanned. “I’d love to not be smoking right now. Hexgate personnel confiscated my pen. Since when were those even contraband?” She snorted and shook her head, pulling the dark green scarf down to expose her face fully. “I feel like they’re just constantly changing shit up over there just to have a reason to pull me out of line.”
Ashe’s pale brows jumped sharply at the sight of a nasty-looking bruise mottled yellow and green across her nose and cheekbone—mostly healed now, but certainly evidence of one hell of a former shiner. “And just what in all the hells happened to you?” She reached up to catch Sarah around the jaw, holding her still so she could get a better look. “That looks like it hurt.”
Sarah scoffed, gently shaking out of her grip to take a good drag of the cigarette. “Remember how I told you I got a ticket for the Pentakill farewell tour in Noxus?”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Wasn’t paying enough attention too close to the pit and got popped square in the face.” Sarah passed the cigarette back to her. “On the upside, the gal who got me was a good sport. EMT, turns out, gave me the full concussion check before buying me a drink.”
Ashe nearly inhaled her cigarette wrong. “You did not seriously flirt with the girl who broke your nose.”
Sarah’s impish grin gave her away even as she went back to bouncing in place against the chill of the Freljordian evening. “Who said anything about that? It’s mosh pit code to buy someone a drink when you knock them on their ass. It’s just manners.”
Ashe pursed her lips, glancing skeptically at her out of the corner of her eye as she turned to glance into the venue. Still setting up. Sheesh. “She says as though I don’t already know she flirted with the girl who broke her nose.”
She laughed. “What gave it away?”
“Historically speaking, your libido.” Sarah always did have a weakness for a girl in leather, and Ashe suspected that particular concert had those in spades.
Sarah clutched at her chest as if genuinely wounded. “You act like you know me or something,” she accused, still grinning. She fished her phone out of her jeans pocket and set to searching for something. “No but seriously though like hear me out on this one.” The phrase alone told the full story, even if she didn’t say as much.
“Say sike right now.”
“Hear me out!” she insisted, holding the phone screen out. Ashe took the bottom of the phone between her thumb and finger to hold it steady as she squinted down at the selfie Sarah was showing her.
The girl was a handsome sort, Ashe had to admit. Severe in the face, with a painful-looking old scar across an eye. Smirking at the camera with one arm wrapped solidly around Sarah’s waist, black hair falling into her face. All chains and leather and metal spikes. Sarah still looked worse for wear in the photo, grinning despite the dried blood still flaky under her nose—the butterfly bandage above her brow.
“Hm,” was all she said, releasing the phone back into Sarah’s custody.
Sarah smirked, triumphant. “Right?”
“Oh, you misunderstand,” Ashe clarified around the cigarette she brought back up to her mouth. “I’m still judging. I see the point you’re trying to make and I am absolutely still judging. The looks were never going to change that.”
“But also, like, goddamn, right?”
“Don’t be gross.”
Sarah stuck her tongue out. “Jealousy, party of one.”
“If you genuinely think I’m jealous of you getting your shit kicked in, I believe she should’ve checked your head a little longer after rattling your brain around like that.”
“Oh, you are in such a mean mood today. Honestly kinda doing it for me,” Sarah added as an afterthought, reaching out to give Ashe a playful pat on the cheek before she had the reaction speed to bat her away. “Opener not everything you hoped they would be?”
Ashe made a face, thankful for the change of subject. “The opener hasn’t even gotten here yet.”
Sarah’s brows lifted, lips pulling taut in a grimace. “It’s an hour past show time. Two past doors.”
“I know.”
She blew out a sharp, understanding breath. “Damn, they really don’t know how to run a show around here, do they?” She bounced on her heels once again, thinking. “Okay, well, it’s cold as fucking balls out here, so I’m going inside to watch the shitshow up close. Want me to grab your usual?”
Ashe mimicked the gesture, sighing out a lungful of smoke. “Make it a double, it’s gonna be such a stupid night.”
“You got it, princess.” Sarah tapped her lightly on the ass as she turned for the door, and Ashe repaid her with a sharp swat to the bicep. Sarah grinned mischievously back at her over her shoulder. Ashe offered her a raised middle finger.
“Jackass,” she scoffed, smiling nonetheless.