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The first set ended with applause, cacophonous inside the bar. Zarsori could enjoy it for about half a second before she had to take her leave, setting her bass on its stand as the others stepped down to mingle and grab drinks. The chaos of their descent lent her just enough cover to head out the back.
The cool air of the alley hit her like spring rain. It always got too hot at shows, especially ones cramped inside local bars. Unfortunately, she could only strip down to her wifepleaser before Genuine and Naz started giving her shit about public indecency. She lit a cigarette, smirking behind the first drag. In a place like this, going shirtless would probably be doing the public a favor.
By the time the door opened again, the sweat had already dried from her skin. Seila stepped out into the alley wrapped in a heavy leather jacket. It was hard to tell whose it was from the half-dead bulb hanging above the door, but Zarsori doubted it was Seila's.
"Hey,"
"Zarsori," Seila answered, and for half a second her eyes warmed- softened, relieved- before they flickered down to the cigarette in her hand. "I thought you were quitting."
Oops. "Yeah, um, I am," she said, pulling the cigarette away from her lips without a drag. "Just- during shows I guess. It's a habit."
Seila stepped close enough for Zarsori to feel the warmth of the bar still fresh on her, and held out her thumb and forefinger. Zarsori slipped the cigarette into her hand seamlessly, and seamlessly Seila dropped it to the ground, poking it with the tip of her shoe like it would bite her. Zarsori huffed out a laugh in spite of herself and nudged Seila's boot out of the way. She crushed the ember down with her own. "Sorry."
Seila eyed the remains of the cigarette dejectedly. "Your breath is going to reek," she sighed.
"Maybe Naz has a mint." Seila glanced up at her, expression soft and neutral. But Zarsori knew disappointment well enough to recognize it when she saw it.
"I've got one," Seila said, and broke that disappointed gaze to reach into her purse, pulling out a round, plastic-wrapped peppermint, the same kind they offered at the front of the bar. She must have grabbed it before coming out here.
"Thanks for believing in me," Zarsori mumbled.
"I am believing in you," Seila said, seemingly shocked at the suggestion. "Its a process. I'm here to help you." She untwisted the plastic and took the mint between the tips of her fingers. "Open up," she added.
Zarsori bared her teeth wide enough for Seila to slip the mint between them, the pad of her thumb just barely brushing against her bottom lip. Zarsori dwelled on this as she sucked the mint into her mouth, knowing Seila wouldn't kiss her so long as she tasted like smoke.
"Dont smoke after the show, okay?"
"I won't," Zarsori said, and she wouldn't, because Seila had licked the remnants of the mint off the tips of her fingers and that should be her, damnit.
"You're doing very well by the way," Seila added. "I love watching you perform."
"Oh yeah?"
"You know this. Why else would I subject myself to a bar on a Saturday night?"
"Free drinks?"
"You're the only one buying me drinks," Seila dismissed. "And I'd rather-"
The door to the alley opened again, and Seila startled from where she had begun to pick at the belt loops at Zarsori's sides.
"Zarsori- oh, eugh- you're not smoking out here, are you?" Genuine asked.
"Nope!" Zarsori lied. "Just getting some fresh air!"
"Right- well the second part of your set is about to start, we need you back inside."
"Sure thing, boss," she said, with enough irony to make Genuine wither. The door closed behind him, and Seila was quick to follow, bashfullness clear even in the dim lighting.
"I'll see you after the show?" Zarsori reached past her, holding open the door so Seila could step back inside in front of her.
"Absolutely. I'll give you a ride home."