In a different time, in a different place…

This outfit doesn’t fit me. Hmmm, nope. It definitely does not fit me in the slightest. No matter how many times I watch the blonde in the mirror move her hips around, slapping her waist or adjusting the sleeves of her qipao. This is irritating, frustrating, annoying. Why did I agree to this? Why did I get roped into this nonsense?

“And most of all,” I lament, “why this color?!” The aggressive flapping of my skirt. It’s peachy, with a coral green flower pattern over the abdomen. I wanted to choose one that was darker, something that was closer to a velvet purple. But this, and shaking the frontal skirt again, which barely conceals my thighs, is frustratingly ugly.

But, I can’t hate it too much. Li picked it out for me, and I didn’t want to hurt her feelings so I went along with it. But now, oh—crikey… I feel like I’m regretting life choices. And as I wonder on that thought, shaking my head and sighing—something cold rests on my hips. “Now now, Vicky,” the incomprehensible dialect of the towering Olga gives me goosebumps.

I still can’t get over how… masculine Olga’s voice is. When I first met Olga and even now, I’m convinced that she reminds me of a supporting character of some tactical espionage visual novel I played a few years ago… though it felt more like a movie, given its unprecedented amount of unskippable cutscenes. “It does not look too bad on you,” Olga continues. I move to the side to give Olga some space in the mirror view, and she’s more than happy to accept the invitation… a little too chummy, I think.

She gently rubs my shoulders, her cold prosthetic and warm hands slowly rubbing more of my arms. I expect her to grope me any moment now, but she seems to be mindful. I’ve found, to be honest, that Olga is pretty touchy-feely at times. She literally can’t seem to stop touching the other girls. She can get ballsy, too. On some occasions, Olga likes to try and mingle with Alexa despite the fiery redhead not-so-politely asking her to keep her hands at her side. And then there’s Vinnie, who’s even somehow more vicious than Alexa.

Of course, Li pays no mind to it. But whenever I glance at her she does disapprove of Olga’s actions with silent pouting objections. But she tries to play it off whenever I take notice. “I think it’s quite lovely,” Olga continues. “It matches your hair, no?” She reaches with her prosthetic hand to sort of curl and play with my bangs a little. The texture of her fingertips leaves me chilly nonetheless.

From behind the holographic mirror, emerges a wild Friederika. “Well, I’ll give this bloke one thing—it does look good on you!” Exerts Friederika. She also has a qipao—as do most of the female staff. Hers—and this surprises me even now—is conservative like Li’s—it leaves more to the imagination compared to mine. I would say this is probably only because Friederika doesn’t have a figure like mine. Friederika is almost as skinny as Olga here, but not quite.

Speaking of which, Friederika is not amused in the slightest. When Friederika pops out, she huffs air through her nostrils; a pout if there ever was one. And maybe I’m imaging it, but it almost looks like there are cracks on the holographic panel, as if she is gripping a little too hard—so even if that is the case, it’s subtle. If I didn’t know any better I’d say she’s fuming.

Before I or Olga react, Friederika jumps out from the panel and grabs me by the wrist—my world spins—briefly recollecting my surroundings. I’m staring at a surprised but amused Olga. Friederika hugs me intently as if I’m the most precious thing in the world to her. Maybe a little too intently—and I guess what Friederika makes up for in poor athletics, she makes up with her hidden gremlin strength. It practically rivals that of Alexandra’s.

Anyway, why do I feel like I’m in the midst of a custody battle? Olga and Friederika stare each other down so intensely that if I didn’t know any better, an electric spark would materialize between the two. And what else is sandwiched between them? This poor little blonde, already suffocating from the overwhelming tightness of this dress. It would be an understatement to say I’m in a bit of a pickle—in more ways than one. If these two crushing me with their bodies don’t kill me, this dress will.

Honestly, what even is with these two? I can’t even comprehend why they are fighting in the first place. Let alone fighting over me of all people, it makes no sense. Well, I mean…

Things change gears, though, the moment a certain cool, scar-faced raven-haired mistress strolls into the changing room humming to herself. Li must’ve just arrived because she still has the black leather jacket hanging off her shoulders, her brown gloves slowly coming off. When she realizes the room’s atmosphere Li pauses, giving us a passing glance before passing us by with a displeasing sigh.

In tow are a few of her buddies—Simon? And that Brute or Bryce or whatever the chap’s name is because I’ve never bothered being acquainted with him too much. Neither of them tries to pay us any mind, but Brute or Bruce or whatever his bloody name is can’t help but chuckle. Olga unexpectedly backs off from Friederika and I to follow the trio—or Li, I guess, in this case. But whatever the case it’s a literal breath of air for me. But this qipao is still tight and makes it uncomfortable to even breathe in though.

“The nerve of that lousy woman!” Friederika sneers. I guess someone like Friederika can get pretty defensive too, for some reason. It’s rare for her to get mad… but I do wish she and Olga would at least have the decency of getting along sometimes. Seriously, I have no idea what compels these two to be so catty when they happen to be in the same room for more than a second. And it’s not even with me half the time—it could over anything. What strikes me as even odder is Friederika is a total darling when she’s with Bryan or—agh, whatever.

“It’s almost a new year, mate,” I say, “would it kill you to at least try and get along with her as a new year’s resolution?” Friederika ponders the question, but crosses her arms under her breasts and frowns. Hmph! Well, I should’ve expected better. To my surprise, though, Friederika relaxes, and she has a sly smirk glancing at the doorway Olga left through.

“Well…” Friederika starts “wouldn’t hurt to try, right? I mean, she’s not a bad person so to say…”

“Other than the fact that she’s trying to grope us every hot minute, you mean,” I interrupt, and Friederika can’t help but laugh. Olga is only this way when Li isn’t around, mostly. It is exceptionally rare not to see the two at the hip, at least when Olga can’t help it. It’s no secret Olga likes Li dearly, but it’s also absolutely not a white elephant that Olga cannot for the life of her be affectionate with other girls… other than Alexandra and Vinnie, that is. Try as she might, Olga could never lay a finger on either of them.

“New year’s resolutions, huh?” Friederika muses, pacing the room. She stops and turns to me, “yeah… huh, I guess I could make that mine,” she twirls her finger in a circular motion, “getting along better with Olga without it resulting in me getting molested in some way.”

“That sounds like an impossible task, but I wish you all the luck,” I answer slyly. Friederika only scoffs.

“What about you, love?” Friederika asks, plopping down her heavy bum on the table next to me, letting her legs kick freely. “You never were the one to have these, come to think of it.”

“You could say that,” I say, a hidden scoff escaping my lips. I lean against the table that I feel could break under Friederika’s weight any moment and ponder what my resolution would be. In the past, all of mine have usually been to wake up earlier and make the most of my mornings, but one year after another it never pans out. Mum always wished mine would too because it became a common routine to practically splash water on me at times. I love her, but she can be evil sometimes.

“The only thing you can think of is not sleeping on days off, innit?” Friederika muses.

“Can’t think of a thing, I think the only thing I can think of is—oh, you bloody rat,” I say, groaning at Friederika correctly assuming what my new year’s resolutions would be.

“Well, it’s not it’s common for people to go through with them—their resolutions I mean,” Friederika says, “I can say for sure that yeah, you are right, it will be a challenge to be chummy with Olga over there,” she points at the trio coming back from their changing rooms. Slightly embarrassed, Friederika continues what she is saying, “er… but it’ll be something I’ll try nonetheless.”

But even as Friederika says such a cool thing, I can’t help but focus on the two men wearing bunny suits that I despicably wish I could unsee but the most I can do is make the situation less awkward by averting my gaze from theirs. As absolutely disturbing as it is, we do occasionally get female patrons so some diversity, the manager argued, is necessary ‘to spice things up’. If I were in their shoes, though, I’d rather just die on the spot immediately.

The manager is a cruel person with unethical and unusual punishments. But hey, business is a business.

Li sees her chaps off. Friederika gives me one last smiling glance as she hops off to head into the lobby with the others. But before she can, Li stops her for a brief chat—and once they finish, waves the latter off. Li leans against the wall, peering outside with a slight smile. “Not going to join them?” I ask, grabbing Li’s attention. She grimaces, rubbing her scar, deliberating for a moment before joining me by the table, her weight more against my shoulder than the table. “I imagine it’s going to be quite busy out there today… usually you throw yourself into the thick of work, you know?”

“Never mind that,” Li answers, “how does the dress feel? I kept thinking on the way back that you wouldn’t like it—you did mention that it looked sort of small when I picked it out.” Oh boy, I guess this is her way of getting straight to the point. “I should’ve changed your mind and had you put on the other one… the hazy one, right?” Her eyes wince as she tries to purse her lips.

“Sounds like it’s been weighing too much on your mind,” I say “maybe a little too much.” Li is quiet for a bit, her breathing heavy on my shoulder.

Li’s shoulders sag. “I shouldn’t have forced you to wear the outfit,” Li mumbles, “I know you’re just playing along for my sake. I should’ve asked for your honest opinion on it… you were just trying to… er, what is it I’m looking for—protect my feelings?” Oh, blimey.

“Close, it’s more like—uh, shoot,” I stammer, “I think the phrase you’re looking for is… well, my mind is shooting blanks right now but that’s beside the point!” I retort, shifting my leg around to face her, “Olga says it goes along with my hair—Kiki does too. They might butt heads over things but it’s rare for them to agree on something. But… I don’t think they’re wrong. It’s pretty, it’s just—I think it’s a little too tight—okay it is a little ugly.” Li frowns, biting down on her lip. She averts her eyes from mine, but I reach to cup her cheeks.

“It’s ugly,” I say, “so damn lucky I’ll tell ya. It’s also so ugly and so tight it’s like a corset—I can barely draw enough hair not to feel lightheaded.”

“I think I get it, Ve-toria,” Li mumbles in a husk voice. She tries to pull my arms away, but I only get closer and caress her cheeks—resting my forehead against hers.

“But you know, if it was anyone else who picked it out, I wouldn’t bother putting it on,” Li fights to keep her eyes averted from mine, her breathing gets sort of troubled. It does make me feel a little heart wretched, but I don’t want her to take it the wrong way at all. “You picked it out for me, and as much as it pains me, wearing something from you gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling under all this suffocation.” Li loses the battle in looking away, and the two of us lock eyes for what seems like forever. “Er… I think what I mean to say, Li, the gift itself doesn’t matter. It’s who it’s from that matters the most, right?”

Li’s lips twitch, but she gives in with a winced smile—rather from the scar or the truth, I don’t know. “Thank you, Ve-toria,” Li says softly, rubbing my hands.

“Say, Li, what would your resolution for the new year be?” I ask, Li’s eyes widen for a moment before chuckling it off.

“My resolution, I wonder,” Li answers. She’s quiet for a long time, looking away to ponder the abrupt question. She smiles knowing the ache she faces, again stroking my hands. “I want to remain faithful to this practice of being with you and the others,” she says each word carefully, our cheeks burning red with utterance. “And what about you… love?”

I reply, “well, I can forget about actual necessities like getting better sleep or not keeping my room tidy like a civilized being. Honestly, I think I have two: mine mirrors yours, and most importantly it’s not to be coerced into wearing dresses smaller than me from cool, mysterious raven ladies.” I expect to laugh it off, but she only frowns. “What? I’m only teasing…”

“Is the qipao really that small?” Li asks, sighing, “you won’t hurt my feelings if you want to wear the other one, Ve-toria…” I squeeze her arms before I interject.

“Li, love, it’s ok,” I say, “it’s just awfully bloody tight around the chest—that’s all. I can bear with it,” I say. Li doesn’t seem convinced—and I’m only partially lying, so if she were to call my semi-bluff, I couldn’t hide that from her. It marginally hurts, mate. I let Li go so that she can shrug.

“Suit yourself,” Li responds. She reaches behind her and grabs one of the trays we use for drinks. “I will do my best to respect this personal goal of yours—“

“Which one?” I ask “there’s two, remember that,” Li eyes me like I’m a lunatic. She tilts her head, our eyes interlocking, a smile.

“Both of them,” she answers. “But first, you have a job to do upfront. I will not allow slacking when I have the floor.”

“This seems like less of a promise and more of a threat if I don’t do a good enough job,” I say wryly. Li leads the way to the door, holding it open for the two of us. It’s awfully ruckus outside, and until now I feel grateful for the thickness of these walls.

“I suppose it can be if you wish to look at it that way,” Li answers. She holds the drink tray with her other hand, smiling a little too smugly for my liking to remain at the table. I get up and take the tray from her, heading out into the lobby where it’s the busiest I’ve seen in a long time. Our lovely maid and butler waitresses scurry around delivering drinks and deserts. Among the chaos I spot Alexandra, in an explosively red qipao unleashing a bottle of wine into a rowdy patron’s face, sending the poor chap crashing into the table. The crowd roars with laughter as Alexandra ever so casually helps him up.

I share a glance with Li, happy to know that everyone is enjoying themselves on this lovely new years eve. “Everyone!” I shout, lifting the tray high into the air. “I hope everyone is having a lovely new years’ tonight!” The responses are overwhelming hurrahs, stomping feet, and clattering of glasses, “this hardy year may be over but our youthful spirit is everlasting! Come, let us make this a night to remember at the Will-of-the-Rose!”

It’s going to be a long night. And there is nothing I could enjoy more with Li and the others by my side.