In This Lonely Place

The job was simple: find the girl and bring her back.

Staring into the mirror you adjust your tie and look yourself over. The person who stared back wasn't you, but it was the person you needed to be for the job. Your benefactors had spared no expense on authenticity. A clean red tie, light brown overcoat, and a dark double-breasted suit perfectly tailored to you completed the effect.

Opening your attache case it becomes obvious that they also had no interest in your being unprepared. You remove the contents: A Browning Hi-Power pistol, a sealed manilla envelope, and lastly a small off-white bottle resembling a phantom wrapped in chains.

You holster the pistol and open the manilla envelope. Inside are pictures of a young woman with piercing blue eyes and dark brown hair that tumbles down to her shoulders, Elizabeth. She's beautiful, really. But a job is a job, best not to get distracted by the details. From the looks of it she performs at a place called the Kashmir, should be easy enough to find. The name certainly sounds familiar.

Stepping out into the Bathysphere station you are bombarded with noise. A loud grating noise emanates from a red vending machine. Several people are standing near the machine with ears covered while a technician removes the front plate to begin repairs. Even utopia breaks down every now and then.

Thankfully the elevator at the end of the transit hub is in better condition. The bronze lift promptly opens for you and you step inside, pressing the button to take you up a level.

As the life reaches it's destination you see a sign to your right that reads 'Kashmir Restaurant' in pink neon. Well, that was pretty damn convenient. Now all you need is for Elizabeth to be there. It'd be a hell of a thing to go all this way only to end up with nothing.

You're so focused on your thoughts that you bump into a young woman tending to a small child in a stroller. "Sorry about that ma'am." You say as you turn to help the young woman.

"Oh, you're fine." She says with a smile.

Weaving between a loitering couple you step into the Kashmir's foyer and take in the sights. You take it from the banner's and silver Cupid statues that this must be some kind of Valentine's day celebration. A number of well-to-do types mill about the opulent red carpet, occasionally gravitating towards a well-stocked buffet in the middle of the room to grab a quick bite and further intermingle. You steal a quick glance up at the glass ceiling and feel a sense of claustrophobia wash over you. How can people live like this?

A simple job, in and out. Searching the crowd you find a young man about your age standing near the buffet by himself. Walking over to the buffet and try to strike up a conversation. "Hey Mister, has Elizabeth performed tonight?"

The man's eyes close as he takes a drag from his cigarette. "Tough luck pal, you just missed her. She sang about a half hour ago."

"That's too bad." You reply, pocketing a small bottle of gin.

"A real treat that one is." His voice following you as you make your way to the. "Hey, uh, you got a name?"

Ignoring the question you push onward. You guess that the staircase guarded by the large balding man with the scar under his eye must be the backstage. As you step up to the staircase the man rises from his seat and bars your passage. "I'm here to see Elizabeth."

"Sorry pal, nobody goes up to see the talent." The man states bluntly, folding his arms in front of his chest.

"Not even her friends?"

The man chuckles to himself. "You aren't her friend."

You shrug in reply. "Fair enough." Well, that was a dead-end. Time for plan B.

Rounding the corner you find an empty alcove. Good, you'll want privacy for this. Taking out the small off-white bottle you down the contents greedily. Immediately you throw yourself against the wall and slide to the ground as a burning sensation ripples through your body. You try and stabilize yourself but notice that your hands fade in and out of translucence. Finally the burning subsides and you slowly right yourself. And not a moment too soon, that was dumb and reckless and you know it.

As your vision clears you see a young woman standing over you. She kneels down and touches your shoulder. "You alright mister?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Got the blues?" She asks, idly running a hand through her curly red hair.

"Huh?"

The woman gives you a crooked smile. "The plasmid blues. Doctor's say it's caused by splicing up too often."

"Maybe so." You respond, managing a force smile "Listen, I appreciate the concern but I think I'd prefer be left alone right now."

"Yeah, sure thing." The woman says, visibly taken aback.  She hesitates briefly before leaving, taking one final glance back at you with a concerned look on her face. whoever she was, she was too nice for place like this.

Once you're sure she's gone you reach out and feel your body go numb. Looking down you see that your whole body has become ethereal and ghostlike. Effortlessly you stride through the wall and up the stairs, finding yourself in front of the dressing room. The door is cracked slightly and you can hear music coming from inside.

You gently open the door and peer into the dressing room. Amidst a mess of makeup products and discarded clothes you see a young woman in a red cocktail dress applying an even deeper red lipstick. while she applies her makeup she sings along to bits and pieces of the song on the radio, some old love ballad you've never heard of.

"Hey there."

Elizabeth jumps, visibly surprised. "Hey yourself, stranger. How'd you get past security?" Quick to composure she swivels in her chair to face you, resting an elbow on the table.

"I have a way with people."

Her eyes furrow. "I'll bet. Should I be expecting trouble?"

You deftly produce the bottle of gin you stole earlier and set it next to her. "Depends on the trouble."

Elizabeth hands the bottle back to you, only drinking once you've proven that you yourself would drink the contents. "See? Perfectly safe."

"You can drop the nice guy act now." Elizabeth says suddenly.

"Huh?"

Elizabeth takes a quick drink of the gin before continuing. "I know a hired man when I see one. So what's your game?"

"I'm here to offer you a way out of Rapture." You say, stepping forward.

Elizabeth pushes you back with one hand and retreats further into the dressing room. "A way out, how?" She inquires, raising an eyebrow.

"All you need to do is remember."

Elizabeth shakes her head and gives you a confused look."What do you mean?"

"Paris, Elizabeth. You and me. We danced in the Luxembourg gardens together."

"I-I don't understand." Elizabeth takes another step back, visibly shaken. A small trickle of blood leaks from her nose. You step forward again and this time Elizabeth doesn't retreat. You hand Elizabeth a handkerchief, which she uses to dab her nose.

"We had our first kiss while watching Amelie, remember? I told you I didn't like the movie and you got upset with me."

Elizabeth looks at you with a dawning realization. "Anon?" It looked like the Luteces were right, all she needed was a direct confrontation with her memories and she would start remembering.

"I'm here." You say, bringing her close to your chest. "Let's take a walk."

With Elizabeth leaning heavily on your shoulder the two of you descend the stairs. The guard looks at you in confusion and moves to block the way, but Elizabeth waves him off. "It's fine, Bruno. He's a friend."

Exiting the Kashmir you find a balcony that looks out into the ocean. You can see that she's still visibly upset by the revelation. You stand with her in silence for several minutes, unsure of whether holding her or talking more about your shared memories would do more harm than good.

Eventually you decide to break the silence. "You feeling better" You know it will be a while before she's really better, but you can't just do nothing.

Elizabeth nods in reply.

"Hey, I just thought of something." You continue.

"What's that anon?" She asks, her voice swollen with repressed tears.

"It's our first Valentine's day together, isn't it?"

The tears flow freely now, no longer held back by her stoicism. The force of her sudden embrace nearly knocks the wind out of you. "Happy Valentine's day, Anon." She croaks.

"Let's go home."

Elizabeth takes your hands in hers and guides you from the railing. "About that."

"What's wrong?"

Elizabeth rests her body against yours and begins to guide you through a dance. "Absolutely nothing." She replies. The two of you dance through the night to the music coming from the Kashmir. All other thoughts are washed from your mind. And why not? You've got all the time in the world. Might as well spend it with the one you love.