Part 1: The Foyer
Violet stared absently at her coffee. Black. The calming aroma of the small riverside cafe did little to smooth her nerves. She took a sip. Bitter.
Usually Violet limited her caffeine intake in the evening, but tonight she would be needing the energy. Across from her, Alice nursed a latte. Extra sugar.
"I don't know if I can do this." Violet couldn't tell if she was shaking from anxiety or coffee.
"You only begged me for months to take you out." Frothy milk stuck to Alice's upper lip like a creamy mustache.
"I'm scared. What if we run into someone we know? Someone I know?"
"I doubt it."
Alice placed her hand comfortingly on Violet's quivering thigh. They both wore matching stockings, the translucent black nylon followed the smooth lines of their calves, stopping at the fatty part of their thighs. The elastic band squeezed Violet's legs as she fussed with the fringe, trying to force them up higher under her skirt. She wasn't usually so risqué in public, but something about Alice made her want to do things-- bad things.
"Okay, I need the rundown again. How are we getting there? Bus?"
"No. I already told you I arranged for a friend to drive us."
"People will see us get in the car." Violet's right foot twitched in staccato rhythm underneath the table.
"What's suspicious about getting in a car?" A devious smile flickered across Alice's lips.
"Well, we're not exactly easy to miss. People will assume the worst if they see two girls in short skirts get into some old geezer's hot-ride."
"Vivi, are they really assumptions if they're right?"
"Fair enough." Violet took another swig of coffee to steady herself. Her face scrunched upon contact with the now lukewarm brew and unceremoniously set the ceramic mug on the hardwood table with disgust.
"Look, you don't have to do anything you don't want to do. I trust Herbert. He'll make sure nothing bad happens to you."
"God, what an old person name. How old is he?" Violet nervously tapped the side of the mug with her fingers.
"No idea, but probably older than your grandpa," she chuckled.
"That's quite the reach considering he's dead," the words cut out of Violet's mouth sharply; all the extra caffeine put her on edge.
Although Alice did little to comfort her, curiosity continued to eat away at her insides. Months of fantasizing finally culminated in this moment. And to be honest, Alice did look cute in that plaid skirt and skintight turtleneck. Knowing she only wore a skimpy pair of panties and a matching bra underneath almost made her forget how nervous she was.
"We should get going. He said he'd meet us at six."
Hands jittering, Violet stood up, leaving her coffee unfinished. She hoped no one noticed the bare skin peeking out over her stockings. Unlike Alice, she wore a buttoned-up jean jacket for some modicum of modesty. Stepping outside, a cool autumn breeze teased the hems of their skirts.
Grabbing Alice by the hand, Violet took a deep breath and prepared herself.
"It's not a walk of shame if you haven't done anything," she assured herself, but she knew that statement wouldn't be true for long.
Only a block stood between them and the meeting point. For such a small street, shops and restaurants packed every nook and cranny. People turned to stare as they made their way through the early evening crowds.
Of course they stood out like a sore thumb. Violet's face burned with embarrassment as she tried to avoid their penetrating gazes.
She shouldn't have shaved yesterday. Now every step caused rough pubic stubble to rub uncomfortably against the fabric of her underwear like sandpaper, making it itch in the worst way. On the other hand, Alice seemed to enjoy the attention, giving Violet's hand a comforting squeeze as they weaved their way to the main street.
"We can go back home if you don't want to do this, Vi."
"No!" Her fluttering heart threatened to burst into a million butterflies. "I want to. It's just, I've never done this before." Glancing down toward the pavement, she sheepishly trailed behind Alice.
"Just stay close to me. Do you remember our names?"
Violet gazed into Alice's large chestnut eyes, kind and caring. She knew she could trust her. A mix of confusing emotions swirled around her caffed-up mind.
"Um, you're Scarlet, and I'm... I'm... I forgot."
"Scarlet is for the other place. In this town I'm Starlet. Don't you forget it-- Vixen."
"Right." Violet, who was now Vixen, gulped as a white Toyota Camry pulled up in front of them.
Inside sat a plump elderly man wearing a plaid shirt and denim jeans.
"He looks like blue-collar Santa Claus," Vixen whispered into Starlet's ear, and in a sense, he did.
What he lacked for in beard, he made up for with demeanor. His wrinkled mug highlighted kindly smile lines. Droopy grey eyes peered out under his weathered folds.
The only certain thing, Vixen thought, was neither of them were going to be on Santa's 'nice' list this year.
"Starlet, long time no see!" A jolly voice greeted them as Herbert motioned for them to get in the back seat.
"Oh, Herb, I missed you." Starlet pecked him on the cheek. Violet, or rather Vixen, quietly sat in the back, too tense to say anything.
"Who's the young whippersnapper?" He revved the engine and began driving into the night.
"Believe it or not, my girlfriend. She says she wants to go to the movies."
"Jeepers, Starlet. Is that why you haven't been keepin' an old man like me company?" He gazed at Vixen through the rearview mirror. "What're you called, missy?"
"Oh, um, Viole-- I mean Vixen." She flustered at forgetting her own name.
"Hoo boy, we don't get much of your type here. Do you have a prick or a cunny?" Wrinkles melded together in long, chiseled lines in tandem with his grin.
"What?"
"You'll find out later tonight, Herb." Starlet came to the rescue.
For the rest of the car ride, Starlet stroked Vixen's arm reassuringly. After what felt like an eternity, Herbert drove into a back street, parked the car and killed the engine. Looking out the window, Vixen could make out a dark alleyway. Truth be told, she was no stranger to this smelly taint of the city's underbelly.
When she first moved there a few years ago, she lived in a shabby apartment complex only five minutes away. One humid midsummer's eve, she found herself lost in the maze of dilapidated buildings.
The dark cloak of night hid familiar landmarks, and street lamps were few and far between. Sweat uncomfortably soaked through her t-shirt as she wandered aimlessly. Sticky, on the verge of heatstroke and with a dead phone, she hopelessly tried to navigate her way back to the main strip. That is when she stumbled upon the theater.
The outside walls boasted movie posters of half-naked women, tits proudly on display. She remembered how shocked she felt. How could such blatant porn be out in the open like that?
Even more shocking, she ran into Alice (or Starlet) loitering outside. Earlier that day they both volunteered at the same community center as nameless companions. They didn't exchange any words at the center and they didn't exchange any words outside the theater. With shamefaced glances, they parted ways - very purposefully - in opposite directions. How could Violet (or Vixen) know they would meet again, much less date?
'And to think Alice wasn't lost that night...'
"Alright you two, no dilly-dallying. We only got til ten before they kick us out."
A poster for Lustful Temptations: Wife Fucker IV lay nestled in a glass display case surrounded by flickering neon lights. Following Herbert's lead, they stepped through the double doors to the great unknown
"Five dollars to enter. Extra three for balcony seating."
If Vixen thought Herbert was old, the ticket master was geriatric. Propped up on a cushioned stool, he sat behind a tacky chrome booth reading a faded yellow newspaper. He barely moved. Quizzically looking at the catatonic staff member, Vixen began to wonder if they were in some sort of strange time capsule.
While Herbert went to pay for the three of them, Vixen took in her new surroundings. The once pristine red velvet floor of the foyer now sat matted and stained. A strange smell she couldn't place wafted through the air. It probably didn't get cleaned often.
"All right, in we go. You two are going to be the bee's knees."
Stepping through another set of double doors, they entered the darkness.
The first thing Vixen noticed was the bathroom. No door to keep out prying eyes, a woman inside adjusted her wig. They made eye contact for a moment, but the bathroom woman merely checked the amount of lube left in her purse and adjusted her fishnets before strutting to the front of the theater, glaring at the trio as she did.
"Why does she look upset?" Slightly disappointed, Vixen tugged on Starlet's arm.
"She's a working girl. There's an unspoken rule we don't invade their turf."