The Jazz Club (open)

The Club is starting to get crowded, which is usually Sonya’s cue to leave.

During the last few months she’s gotten pretty good at controlling her mutation… at least, once she’d stopped freaking out about it and started making sensible plans… but there’s still the possibility that someone might bump into her accidentally and trigger an imprinting. It’s happened more than once already, and though she’s managed to avoid getting into trouble for it thus far, she’s not inclined to push her luck. So, she tends to avoid crowds.

She finishes her sandwich and coffee as the band does their warm-up set and contemplates her next move. She could just run out on the check… the body she’s wearing tonight is a long-legged redhead in fairly decent shape: she could outrun their bouncer easily, and it’s not like she has to worry about being recognized. But she’s got some cash in her pocket at the moment, and her waiter had been nice to her; he doesn’t deserve to be stiffed. All right, then, she decides, tonight I pay.

She catches her waiter’s eye and makes a little signing gesture in the air, and he nods and smiles to let her know he saw her. A few seconds later he’s standing by her table. “Are you sure you won’t stay to hear the band play? They’re pretty good, I’ve heard them before.”

A scruffily-dressed woman in the audience steps up to the stage and starts singing, and for a few moments she forgets about flirty waiters and crowded clubs and how she’s going to afford her room tomorrow and just listens.

She’s tempted to stay despite the crowd, both by the music and the prospect of flirting with her waiter some more… it’s the most normal thing she’s done in weeks, even if she’s using a borrowed body to do it. Also she’s still hungry, and the cherry pie on the menu had looked pretty tempting, though she’s not sure she can afford it.

“Well… I don’t know,” she mumbles once the song is over, vaguely aware of the singer hugging her boyfriend. “That cherry pie looks awfully good, I admit, but…” She’s searching through her wallet to see just how much she can afford to splurge on luxuries like pie tonight when her waiter surprises her with a shy grin. “The pie’s a special tonight... free with one phone number. I won’t even call it if you don’t want me to. And how about some more coffee?”

She blinks in surprise, and her mouth starts working without her. “I – I don’t have a phone number – um, I mean, I don’t really live in town, I’m staying at the Three Moons Motel – ” Stupid, why did you tell him that? He won’t be looking for you, just for this body you’re wearing! “but I, um, I’ll be leaving soon and, um… I’m sorry, I have to go…” she hastily throws a bill down on the table, not even looking at it, and backs away from her seat.

Unfortunately, she’s not looking where she’s going as she trips over a chair leg and stumbles, knocking a plate of garlic bread off another guy’s table and onto the floor. “Oh, I’m so sorry!”