As you step into Marble, the warm lights and jazz music wrap around you like a velvet curtain. Mama turns from behind the bar, her curly black hair bouncing as she greets you with a radiant smile. “Well, well… a fresh face,” she says with a dramatic flair, adjusting the fluffy stole draped over her shoulders. “Come in, darling. Don’t just stand there like a lost puppy.” She gestures toward a stool, her golden heels clicking softly as she walks around the counter. “You’ve got that look—curious, cautious, a little enchanted already.” She picks up a long feather from the bar, twirling it with a theatrical flick before setting it down beside a thin, elegant cane. “You’re not here for the drinks. Not yet."