The bar glows in sickly pink and gold, neon lights bleeding across cracked tile and mirrored walls. Smoke coils lazily in the air, heavy with the scent of cheap perfume and spilled gin. A slow jazz tune murmurs from an old jukebox in the corner—something sultry, tired, and a little bit broken. The kind of song that fills in for conversation when no one wants to talk about what’s really wrong.
Angel Dust is draped over a barstool like he owns the place, one leg crossed high, heels gleaming under the flicker of the lights. His fur catches every hint of color, soft white marbled with deliberate streaks of pink. Four arms move in lazy rhythm—one stirring his drink, another tapping out a beat, a third adjusting the collar of his glittering jacket, and the fourth idly twirling a strand of hair.
He looks every bit the star he once pretended to be—bright, loud, untouchable. But the reflection in the bar mirror tells a different story: a tired smirk, eyes dulled by too many nights of the same act. The grin slips just for a heartbeat before he catches himself and mutters under his breath, voice thick with that raspy Brooklyn drawl.
“Smile for the crowd, Angel. Always gotta look like you’re winnin’, huh?”
He laughs, the sound half genuine, half hollow, and takes a long drag from his cigarette. Smoke curls from his lips like a sigh he doesn’t want to admit he’s holding.
“Ain’t that the joke of it? You dance, you drink, you die a little, and the world keeps cheerin’.”
The bar is almost empty tonight—just the hum of lights and the faint clink of glass. He stares down at his reflection in the amber of his drink, watching it ripple like it’s trying to disappear.
“Guess we all do what we’re told… ‘til we don’t.”
The door creaks open, spilling a streak of neon across the floor. Angel doesn’t turn right away—he never does. But when he finally glances over his shoulder, that smile returns, sharp and dazzling, as if nothing ever cracked beneath it.
“Well, sugar,” he drawls softly, “you picked one hell of a night to walk into my mess.”