SlenderPump Rules

The walls of PUMP hadn't changed in four years.

The neon still pulsed soft pink. The booths still felt velvety soft. And the smell--spiced alcohol, polished leather, and something else faintly unnatural--still hit the same way when you walked in.

But Ann had changed.

And back then, the first time she walked through those back doors, her hands were shaking.

She'd just turned nineteen: a baby. Moved cities (or, somehow, realms), no real plan, but curiosity nearly killed the cat, when she walked a little too far--too deep--into the woods. She hadn't even known what kind of woods these were, or what kind of place PUMP was, until she was standing in it.

"Just serve the drinks, spit in the food, and you're allowed to talk back to anyone if they don't have cash in their hand. Also, please, for the love of God, don't open any glowing basement doors," Jeff said, shoving her away from the bar in annoyance.

She didn't like Jeff. Whenever she was feeling risky, she would talk back. But today was the first day on the job. She was in the deep end now. Sharks with razor-sharp teeth eyed her as she shakily passed around food and drink from a tray.

And that's when Jane found her.

Sitting at the end of a marble counter in a jet-black off-the-shoulder top and silver hoops that she's probably used to choke a man, her lipstick matched her stare: sharp.

She clocked Ann from across the room: hesitant, out of place, and dressed in the color pastel yellow--far too soft for this crowd.

Jane didn't smirk or roll her eyes like Jeff.

She waved her over. "You're the new one?"

Ann nodded. "My name is Annabelle. Ann for short."

"Jane. Sit for a sec. You look like you're gonna run." She stared up and down her slightly trembling body.

"I--just don't wanna mess anything up!"

Jane tilted her head, amused but not cruel. "You will, Dear."

Ann blinked. A deer caught in headlights.

Jane shrugged. "We all do; even Jeff. But not tonight. Come on. I'll show you how not to spill a drink on a demon."

That was how it started. Weeks passed, and in those weeks, Ann learned.

She learned how not to flinch at blood on a bar napkin. She learned which monsters flirted too roughly and which ones tipped in black diamonds. She learned that it was okay to backhand the monsters who flirted too roughly, and she learned how to convert black diamonds into their average currency. She learned that Ben could hack the music in ways that made the room, and all of its light fixtures, strobe in actual slow-motion. She learned that Jeff, as dick-ish as he may seem, would always have her back, should there be the need to ward off any unwanted creatures from the woods. She learned that Eyeless Jack's silence wasn't cold--it was watchful and informed and safe. But most of all, she learned Jane.

Jane was subtly electric--soft with Ann, loyal to her crew. She always carried two knives: one for show and one for surprise. She made people nervous. She made Ann feel safe.

Late nights meant rooftop drinks. After-hours dancing in the locked-up bar, sharing lipstick and stories.

Once, Ann fell asleep on Jane's shoulder while they watched the sun come up after a double shift.

Once, Jane kissed Ann on the lips, high as a kite, and whispered, "You're the only soft thing I let stay in my world."

Ann didn't know what to do with that.

It changed somewhere between then and now. Not all at once.

There was a night Ann showed up late to work, flushed, grinning about some new cook she'd met. Jane smiled, but it didn't touch her eyes.

There was a birthday--Jane's--Ann got her a vintage switchblade with her name engraved. Jane hugged her longer than she should've. Then, didn't speak to her for two weeks.

Time did what it does.

Ann started dating Leona. Jane stopped inviting her out alone. They still worked together, laughed together, but the space between them started wearing thin, like a wire about to snap.

And now, every stare Jane gives her at work feels like it's dragging up the past. When did it get so painful? Where did the nostalgia go?

Why does she long to go back to a time when Ann was new?

When Jane taught her how to survive.

When Ann was hers.