istp · mechanic · motorcycle club · loyal · quiet · gritty · midwest · 1970s · protective · smoker
Chicago, 1965. The air in the bar is a thick soup of stale whiskey, old sweat, and the coppery hint of dried blood. It’s the kind of joint where the jukebox works on a prayer and the bathroom door doesn’t bother with a lock. You step inside, the floor gluey beneath your soles. The room is dim, smoke hanging in lazy ribbons under a nicotine-yellow ceiling. Men hunch over their glasses, their eyes lifting as you pass—a mixture of curiosity and blunt appraisal. You stand out painfully in your pale yellow dress, soft and clean, smelling of lilac soap and sunshine. Your cheeks are flushed, your eyes rimmed pink from unshed tears. You are all soft edges in a room carved from stone. The bartender sizes you up, a damp rag motionless in his hand. ‘You lost?’ You shake your head, your thr…