The Canary Cage

The low, smooth seductive singing of Valeria's prized singer can be heard from the backroom.

"He's dead?" Valeria asks Diego, narrowing her eyes at him.

"I had someone get him in his holding cell." Diego nods.

"Good." Valeria replies. It's a shame, Nicholas was loyal and a good bartender, but she just can't risk having him squeal to the cops. "That's that, then." Valeria stalks out of the storage room and heads to her office. She has a couple sheets of tax forms to fill out. Fun work, Valeria loves doing taxes. She scowls.

She swings open the door and nearly jumps out of her skin. You're standing in the middle of the room silently, and at the sound of her entering you turn to look at her.

"Christ. Why are you in here?" She asks sharply, embarrassed over being caught off guard.

You frown. "You told me to come at eight." You say. Right, yes. Valeria had forgotten about that.

"Of course." She mutters. She'd be more pleased to see you if you were here for other reasons. She could use some stress relief.

Just because she deserves it, she lets herself have a little peak at your cleavage before sitting down behind her desk. She takes a sip of the whiskey sitting atop it.

"I'm glad you came to your senses and decided to work here." She says slyly. Looking you over meaningfully.

"You were a last resort, actually." You mutter, taking a seat in front of her. Valeria simply hums in response and moves on, getting to business. She reaches into a drawer and shifts through the papers, looking for the new employee forms. she finds the sheets and slides them over to you. You reach out for them and Valeria zeros in on a few fine lines barely visible peeking out from under your wrist.

"You have a cat?" She asks casually. Watching you closely while you fill out the forms.

"No." You reply. No. Valeria didn't think so.

She's not sure what to think about you self-harming. She likes the romance of a tragic girl, but purposefully harming oneself is a fine line between tragic and just too much. Though she knows your type is easily influenced, she muses. You're like an egg. A hard, defensive shell, but once cracked open there's nothing inside but the fragile yolk. Valeria's stomach rumbles, complaining over not being fed in over ten hours. She could go for some eggs. Maybe an omelet?

"Here." You speak, tearing her from her thoughts. She takes the forms from you and sets them aside for later.

She clears her throat.

"You already have experience in this line of work so I don't think you'll need much training. But I'll have Amelia watch over you and guide you on how we do things here, you've noticed it's a little different from the Fireflower, I'm sure." She says.

"Okay." You reply, shoulders slumped and eyes lidded. You don't seem all that excited to be working for her.

"You can wait in the singer backroom, it's the door across from my office." Valeria tells you, waving you away. "Amelia will come speak to you when she's done with her set." You rise and politely push in your chair, then turn and walk out of the room. Valeria eyes you appreciatively as you leave.

It's late when Valeria finally finishes up her paperwork. Past closing. Her eyes burn and her stomach cramps painfully. She gets up and stumbles at the lightheadedness washing over her. Lumbering out of her office she walks into the empty main bar, the young bartender working on cleaning glasses and wiping down counters.

"You can go home, Arlo." She says tiredly. He looks at her and nods, setting down a shot glass.

"Thanks." He replies quietly. Gathering his stuff and hurrying out of the bar. Valeria takes a seat and rests her head on the counter. She really needs to eat. But she's tired.

"Valeria." Diego calls.

And she needs to oversee the inventory downstairs.

With a groan she gets up and walks behind the counter. She pushes through an undescriptive door and walks down the old steps to the cellar. Diego and a new guy she never bothered learning the name of are waiting for her beside crates marked as wine. Though she knows wine isn't the only thing inside.

"Everything accounted for?" She asks.

"Yes, there's even some extra." Diego replies.

"Good." She says. "We can start loading up the trucks tomorrow."

"What about the hares?" The other man speaks up nervously. Valeria doesn't like his nasally voice and would prefer it if he doesn't speak.

"We'll be shipping them out in a couple of weeks with the untampered ones." She replies impatiently. Irritated that he didn't know that.

She leaves the bar and gets into her car. Stopping at one of the few convenience stores still open at this hour for some quick food. She parks and gets out. The sidewalk is washed out from the bright blue florescent lights. She swings open the door, a little ding announcing her presence. Valeria hunts through the isles. Looking at chips and pre-made sandwiches. She eyes the tuna sandwiches. The sight of them is incredibly appetizing but eating one would be like gambling with her digestive system. They're dubious at best and she wonders if her hunger is worth potential food poisoning.

She happens to glance up at movement in the corner and pauses, seeing you lingering by the cold drinks. You're wearing your big heavy coat, tucked in comfortably despite the less than freezing weather. She doesn't know why you own such a coat, even in its coldest months Las Almas rarely sees anything below ten degrees. Valeria grabs the pack of sandwiches and approaches you.

"You're out late." She comments, amusement bubbles in her chest when you jump and turn to look at her.

"I missed my bus." You say stiffly. "Twice."

"Hm." Valeria acknowledges.

She takes the chance to study you in the harsher light. She can see the little blemishes on your skin more clearly, and the dark circles under your eyes look like deep shadows. You're not as pretty as she originally thought.

"I can give you a ride home if you want." She offers. It's of course not a kind offer, because nothing Valeria does is ever under the name of kindness.

"No, thanks." You reply, turning away.

"It wouldn't be an issue, I have to go by your apartment anyway." She continues breezily. You grab a bottled water and close the door. Not looking at her.

"Being stuck in a car with you doesn't strike me as a very good time." You reply.

She normally doesn't like when people argue with her, but in this situation it's fun. She follows you to the counter and steps beside you. Placing her sandwiches beside your drink. You turn to look at her.

"It's on me." She tells the clerk. Ignoring your protests. She pays and hands you your drink, following you back outside.

"I can afford to buy my own water, Valeria." You say flatly.

"I'm just doing my good deed for the day." She says, raising her hands innocently and widening her eyes. "Are you sure you don't want that ride? I'm not limited to only one good deed a day."

"I'm sure." You start walking away.

"It's going to be a long wait, in the dark by yourself." She calls out to you. You slow to a stop and triumph flares inside of Valeria. Young women typically don't like to be out alone at this hour. Even Valeria herself avoids it when she can.

You turn and stalk back towards Valeria.

"Fine." You say, brushing past her to her car. "But I'm not going to owe you anything for this, you offered and persisted." You say firmly. Valeria's almost impressed at how easily you set boundaries with her. It makes her excited to figure out how many of them she can break.

"Sure." Valeria smiles, opening the passenger door for you. You climb in and she shuts the door for you.

It won't be a long drive. There's very little traffic at this time. the only people out are her own men and junkies patrolling the shadows. They become more common the closer to the west side she gets.

"How was your first day? You like it at the Canary cage?" She asks.

"It was okay." You answer vaguely, looking out the window.

"Make any friends?"

You look over at her, unimpressed. "No."

Valeria shrugs. She doesn't really care if you've made friends or not. "Pity."

You get out of her car without another word when she gets to your complex. She sits and waits for you to walk inside before driving off back in the other direction. By the time she gets home she's famished and bone-weary. Barely able to drag herself inside. She takes her sandwiches to the bathroom and wolfs them down hungrily right on the bathroom floor, then she strips and washes herself. Her movements in the shower are sluggish and weak. The hot water streaming down her back making her even more tired and lazy. She steps out of the shower and wipes steam away from the mirror. She brushes her teeth, flexes her arms, and then promptly heads to bed with wet hair. She's too tired to care about drying it right now.

The first thing Valeria does when she wakes up is have a shot of Vodka. Needing that little buzz to get through the rest of her day and to stave off her morning headache. Her body feels heavy and she's feeling terribly uninspired, but she has to get up and work. She wonders what you're up to right now. If you're still asleep or if you're going about your day like she is. She checks on the Hare Warehouse and the fisheries, and the Canary Cage. She also speaks to her informant for any steps Los Vaqueros may be making. There's no more talk about fighting her cartel. Which makes her wonder if they're giving up. She doubts it. She's worked alongside Alejandro long enough to know he'll only quit when he dies. Well, that can certainly be arranged. For now, though, they're staying out of her way. Valeria will enjoy the peace while it lasts.

She walks through her city like a dog patrolling its territory. It's a hot day but that isn't stopping civilians from enjoying their lives. Stray dogs crowd around food stands, tails wagging for scraps. Armored trucks occasionally pass by blaring music. She spots a flower stand and thinks of you. She eyes the selection, all protected under the shade of a colourful tarp above. She wonders what flowers you like. She decides on a dozen roses. Because you can never go wrong for the universal symbol of love and romance. Valeria gives the man running the stand your address, paying him extra to have them delivered. Valeria knows you won't be too receptive to the romantic gesture. You're the kind that will make her fight every step of the way until she finally breaks you down enough to give in. And that's just fine for Valeria. Because she also knows that her will is greater than yours.

You're singing again tonight. Valeria has sat herself at the back, repainting her nails. The table overlooks the whole bar while holding some mild privacy. She looks up and watches you on stage. Where Amelia's voice seems have built in autotune, yours is a lot less polished. Valeria finds it has its own charm though. She finds that short dress you're wearing charming too. You're standing closer to the edge of the stage than the other singers do. A mistake on your end. With the height of the stage and how close the tables are, if a person were to angle their head a certain way they could get a peak up unsuspecting skirts. Valeria supposes she should warn you. Maybe later. She caps her nail polish and pockets it, then stands and walks towards her office, leaving a few pesos on the stage for you.

Valeria retreats back to her office. Soothing her headache with a cool glass of whiskey. Like magic, when the amber liquid runs down her throat her headache vanishes, and she feels more refreshed. She shuffles through a stack of papers, (It's like killing a hydra head, more keep popping up.) and stops at a little note. It's barely legible, which means Diego wrote it. Letting her know he's hosting a little party on Saturday. Why he feels the need to tell her she's not sure. Valeria doesn't like parties, thinks they're a waste of time. She's never been much of a socialite. Valeria's about to throw it away when she halts, an idea springs into her mind. She could take you. Maybe loosen you up enough to be more receptive to her.

Valeria lingers until you're finished for the night. Watching you limp down the hall with sore feet and tired eyes. She leans against the wall by the singer's door.

"You look tired." She comments.

You wrinkle your nose. "And you smell drunk." Valeria frowns, does she? She didn't think she was drinking enough for you to pick up on the smell.

"I had a few glasses, nothing wrong with that. It helps me focus." She shrugs, following you into the room.

"My dad used to say the same thing." You reply mildly. "Then he dropped dead from liver failure."

Like a snake shedding its skin you drop the Primadonna performer act. Slouching and shuffling your feet before throwing yourself onto a sofa dramatically. She eyes the slip of bare thigh that appears.

"I'm not an alcoholic." Valeria tells you dryly. "This is a bar, you're supposed to drink."

You give her a meaningful look. "Not if you're working."

Valeria rolls her eyes. "To each their own." She says. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Mhm?"

"A friend is throwing a party this Saturday, I want you to come as my date." She says, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

"I'm not interested in you, Valeria." You say bluntly. Turning your back to her in obvious dismissal.

Your blatant rejection actually wounds her pride a bit.

"Why not? And don't try to tell me it's because you don't like women, I've seen you looking at the other singers." She murmurs.

"I'm not interested in you." You stress, looking at her again. "I get such evil, wicked vibes from you. I just know you're an awful partner, and I'm not in the right headspace for a relationship anyway."

Valeria straightens, offended by your assessment of her character. "You're not interested because of vibes?" She asks indignantly.

You shrug. "I've got evidence to support my feelings. Good people don't forcefully take money from the poor in exchange for protection they don't even provide."

"But that's it? Your disinterest is because you think I might be a bad person?"

"You are a bad person."

"But I'm not unattractive to you?" Valeria asks.

You frown.

"Physically... No. But you rub me the wrong way and I don't trust you or want anything to do with you." You huff. You sit up and start taking off your heels, wincing as you do so. You don't find her ugly, which means you think she's attractive.

"Let me rephrase my earlier words," She starts. "you will accompany me to that party as my date." Her voice leaves no room for arguments.

"No I won't." You reply incredulously, screwing up your face into a grimace.

"I'll fire you if you don't." Valeria retorts, getting impatient with your continued refusal.

You perk up. Oh, so that really caught your attention. You shouldn't show your hand so easily. "You can't do that." You protest.

"I can and I will."

"This is extortion."

Valeria snorts. "It's coercion, honey."

"Same thing."

Valeria uncrosses her arms and leans towards you.

"Now, are you going to go with me, or is this your last night here?" She asks slowly. Making sure to enunciate her words very clearly. You scowl and hold her gaze for an impressive four seconds before looking away.

"Sure." You snap. "But it's not a real date, I don't like you, and I won't go home with you after."

Valeria finds your attempt at taking back some control amusing, so she lets you have your little moment.

"I'll pick you up at nine, wear something nice." She mocks, turning and exiting the room.

* * *

Valeria doesn't feel the need to dress up all that much. She doubts anyone else will either. Though she does put a little more effort into her appearance. A breathable dark button up tucked into jeans. She looks good, and she feels good. She gets in her car and drives over to your apartment.

"I'm here." She texts you. While she waits she re-reads previously exchanged work texts. You're quite dry and disinterested. a loud knock on her window startles her. It's you. She unlocks the doors to let you in. You stare at her silently for a few seconds, expression unreadable.

"What are you wearing?" You ask, mouth twitching. Valeria frowns and looks down at herself, confused.

"Clothes?" She replies dryly, looking at you questioningly. "Something wrong with it?"

"... No." You say. Valeria doesn't think you're being honest though. If that look on your face is anything to go by.

She stares at you silently.

"... Is this like, a formal party?" You ask. "I'm not going to show up and get weird looks because I'm not 'on theme' right?"

Valeria furrows her brows. "Why would it be a formal party?" She asks, puzzled. She starts the car and pulls off.

"You look like you're going in to work at some corporate office." You mutter, crossing your legs and setting your purse down on the console. Valeria frowns.

"Well at least I don't look like I charge seventy for a handy." She shoots back. Your head swivels to look at her, giving her a scathing glare.

Valeria pulls up to Diego's Villa. Driving past luxurious potted plants over a newly paved driveway. The place is crawling with cartel and from the corner of her eye, Valeria sees you shift. She parks the car away from the others. She turns to look at you, admiring your profile.

"Let's go." She says. Valeria gets out and joins you around the other side, offering to carry your purse which you decline. She walks close to you, arms brushing while she leads you inside. Some men nod at her and she dips her head in response.

It's not as obnoxious as Valeria thought it would be. There's no blasting music, instead it's playing at just the right volume that it's not interrupting any conversation. She observes the women brought by her workers. She's able to clock what they are right away. Paid for entertainment. she casts you a sidelong glance and sees your frown.

"You fit right in." She murmurs, earning another withering glare. Your gaze shifts past her and widens in recognition. She turns.

"Dolly?" You speak. An older woman turns, surprise flickering across her features. She has her arm around one of her lower workers, who seems quite pleased with himself.

"Oh dear." She says, eyeing you and Valeria sadly. "When Tony told me you were fired, I had hoped you found a safer job."

You stare at her blankly before your eyes light up with understanding.

"I'm not... I work at a bar, Dolly." You reply. Valeria raises a brow and looks back at Dolly, wondering what the relationship is there. Dolly gives Valeria a suspicious once over and Valeria narrows her eyes back, challenging this woman to say anything she doesn't like.

"What're you doing here then, sweet girl? You know what kind of party this is." She murmurs.

You give Valeria a sidelong glance. "This is my boss, she invited me. I work at the Canary Cage now." Dolly's red lips thin. she gives you a long, thoughtful look before nodding.

"Stay safe." She says. She looks like she wants to say more but smartly decides against it. Instead, she leads the young man away, leaning down to whisper something into his ear. Valeria wonders if it's about her. She decides she doesn't like this woman. Who's she to tell you to be safe? Like Valeria can't protect you here.

With a slightly soured mood, she plucks a cocktail off of a platter carried by a waitress.

"Who was that?" Valeria asks calmly, taking a sip to ease her frayed nerves. You stare after Dolly longingly. Jealousy sparks in Valeria's gut.

"A friend." You murmur.

"You're friends with a prostitute?" Valeria furrows her brows. Valeria doesn't understand mingling with people so desperate they're willing to sell their bodies for a little cash. Unless of course, they're selling it to her.

"Yeah?" You reply, giving her a warning look. "Dolly has a lot of life experience. I've learned a lot from her."

"Did you learn how to stay on your knees without bruising them?" Valeria scoffs back.

"What's your problem?" You snap at her.

Ruffled, Valeria responds.

"It's hard to respect someone who degrades themselves like that." She says defensively. "If all you have going for you is a body, then really, what good are you?" You stiffen and Valeria thinks you might slap her. Instead, you just huff and shake your head, turning away.

"Sometimes they don't have any other choice but to use their bodies, that doesn't mean they don't deserve respect." You growl.

"Would you ever resort to that?" Valeria asks curiously. "If you had no other choice?"

"Maybe." Your eyes darken. "Or maybe I'd just kill myself. Who knows."

Valeria plucks a cocktail from a passing waiter and offers it to you.

"You're so uptight, have a drink." She says. You glare at her like she just shot your dog.

"I don't drink!" You snap.

"Just one won't hurt." She persists. Wanting you to drink. You take the glinting glass from her, fingers brushing, and then proceed to dump it out into the carpet. Valeria stares at you silently.

"I. don't. drink." You repeat more firmly.

Valeria's attempts at getting you drunk fail miserably. You're stone solid in your resolve to avoid any kind of substances. She finally gives up and decides to just drag you along with her while she mingles with her workers. You might even be more tempted after. Valeria knows she is if she has to listen to idiots boast about their latest conquests and participate in dick measuring contests.

"I don't know why I haven't become a sicario yet." The man she's talking to says. His name's Emile, she recalls. Someone Diego hired to cart her drugs from one place to another. She's more bored and disinterested then anything. Until he speaks again. "He made a woman a sicario before me, you're strong don't get me wrong, but I'm more than capable." Valeria stiffens and snaps back into the conversation.

"You're not a sicario because El Sin Nombre doesn't like little entitled pricks." She says sharply. She feels you shift away from her. Emile scoffs at her but doesn't argue.

"Suppose so. I'm going to go see if I can get some ass." He says, pushing past her.

She turns to glower at him as he leaves. Limbs tingling with fury. She left the Special Forces to escape the misogyny, and it's followed her into her own damn cartel.

"Sicaria, huh?" You speak up from beside her. Valeria looks at you.

"That an issue for you?" She asks hotly.

"Everything about you is an issue for me." You retort. "We've been here for like an hour, can we go now?"

"We can go when I say we can." She snaps. Valeria doesn't want to be here either, but she's annoyed and taking it out on you.

Another hour passes and she winds up in one of Diego's kitchens, engrossed in a heated discussion with two men and a woman. She's aware of your bored hovering. Like a child waiting for its mother to finish speaking in a grocery store. At some point you slip away without her noticing. She does notice when someone starts yelling. She whips her head around and finds you and the man from earlier, head to head.

"Watch yourself before I slap you upside the head." He snaps at you, crowding you into the wall. Despite your obvious trepidation you don't back down.

"Get your fucking hands off of me." You slap his hands away. Valeria storms over and pushes herself between you.

"Get this bitch under control." The man tells her, glaring at you over her shoulder.

"Keep your hands to yourself!" You snarl back. Valeria gives you a small push in the other direction and scowls at the man.

"We're walking away," She murmurs threateningly. "I'd suggest you do the same, Emile."

She forces you out of the kitchen, irritated with you causing problems.

"She doesn't belong here." She hears him mutter behind her. She pushes you forward, wondering if you heard or if you even care. You'd probably be pleased to know you don't belong. The music is louder this side of the house. Things are less restrained over here. Coupled pairings are dancing and grinding against each other. She eyes a woman in a skimpy top, admiring her body and the way her long hair flows over her arms and shoulders.

"She looks too young for you." You say into her ear. She looks away.

"And you aren't?" She scoffs. She's older than most of the women here, except for Dolly.

"I'm a grown woman," you say dismissively. "That girl looks like she has to get up at 6AM for a first period math class." Valeria swipes another drink from a shot table and downs it, relishing in the burn in her throat.

She discards her empty glass and takes your hands, forcing you deeper into the throng of dancing people, making you dance close to her with a hand on your lower back.

"You sound jealous. Maybe you like me more than you think." She hums. Looking at you closely.

"I'm not." You say flatly. She believes you, unfortunately. Disappointed, she stops talking but moves behind you, shifting her hands to your stomach. You stiffen and lean away, head swiveling around like you're worried about something.

"Why are you so on edge?" Valeria mumbles, barely being heard over the pounding music and chatter.

"People might think we're..." You trail off.

Valeria frowns.

"Think we're what?" She asks sternly.

"Gay." You hiss. Valeria huffs with laughter.

"Are you serious? You're not one of those people who cares about what others think are you?" She asks with disbelief. You twist your head, fixing her with a serious look.

"Maybe you can get away with being out, but some of us have to be wary about who knows." You snap, expression darkening.

Valeria frowns back.

"Well you can't care that much, you're not very good at hiding what you are." She scoffs back. The loud music is starting to give her a headache that not even alcohol will get rid of.

"Whatever. Just put a little more space between us." You growl, pulling away. Valeria sighs but relents for now.

The night drags on into early morning. There's less dancing. Couples now taking up rooms. Valeria's eyes are heavy. She's sitting in the living room, listening to Diego bicker with some girl. She casts a glance towards you. You're curled up beside her, feet tucked up under you with your head on the arm rest. Your eyes are closed and your breathing is deep and steady. Valeria yawns.
"I'm going to head home." She tells Deigo. He looks away from the woman.

"You sure you're okay to drive?" He asks, looking Valeria over.

"Don't ask me stupid questions." She snaps. She lays a hand on your shoulder and gently shakes you awake. You crack open sleepy eyes and fix them on her blearily.

"What?"

"Let's go." Valeria mutters, getting to her feet.

You uncurl and stretch, yawning tiredly. The ride back to your apartment is silent. Valeria struggles to stay awake and focus. Running a red light. She parks by the door. Litter flutters by in the wind as you step out of the car, stumble would be more accurate. You didn't even drink, she imagines how much worse off you'd be if you had. You close the car door and walk off without saying goodbye, disappearing inside of the complex. Valeria lingers, her eyes drooping shut. She rubs her eyes and notices your purse in the corner of her eye, left on the floor of the passenger seat. She leans over and hooks the strap onto her fingers, pulling it up.

Valeria debates if she should go inside after you. Ultimately, she decides not to. Curiously and without any regard to your privacy, she shifts through your belongings. Phone, wallet, pepper spray, lip gloss, concealer. She stares at the lip gloss, then pockets it. It doesn't look expensive, you probably won't miss it. The light from the streetlamp outside winks off your phone. You'll probably miss that. She stuffs it back into your purse. She'll hold onto it for you, let you be nervous over it for a while to make up for the disappointment that was tonight.