Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 133191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
At least Prague was beautiful. She hadn’t stayed long during her previous visit. The historical center and its mishmash of architectural styles charmed her. There was Romanesque, Gothic, Renaissance, Baroque, neoclassicism, all mixing in with art nouveau, cubism, functionalism, and the stern, gray, concrete architecture of the Communist era. Thea would walk past a neoclassical building and standing right next to it would be the modern prefab, glass-walled buildings that went up in the latter half of the twentieth century.
The only reason she knew anything about architecture was because every city she stayed in, she’d roamed the libraries, spending any spare time she had educating herself on subjects she missed out on growing up, and then some.
Like all the cities she’d spent time in in Europe, Thea was drawn to the old towns with their cobbled or brick-paved streets, trams and the bustle of tourism. It wasn’t just that she loved the centuries of life those places had witnessed—it was being able to disappear among the crowds. To feel like a normal young woman. A number among many.
Instead of what she was.
As the day wore on, a ceiling of clouds blew in over the city, and Thea grew more concerned. She’d asked at a lot of bars and restaurants, but she couldn’t find someone to hire her who didn’t need all the legal crap. Thea had snacked as she walked but she was still ravenous. Perhaps it was the excitement of the last few days. She’d probably expelled more energy than she’d thought. Deciding it was maybe time to give up and find a hostel and somewhere she could buy cheap vendor food, Thea walked down a busy street as night fell.
The booming bass of music and the chatter of partygoers outside a building in the middle of the shopping area drew her attention. Thea slowed to a stop in front of the place and looked up. It was a building she’d visited yesterday and many times during her last stay in the city. Called Lucerna Palace, it was an art nouveau building designed for a former president. It was now a shopping mall of sorts, and housed a cinema, shops, restaurants, bars, and cafés. And she knew from her wanderings inside it seemed to be particularly famous for its music bar. It was the one place she hadn’t asked if they were looking for a bartender.
Her eyes drifted over the people walking in, some dressed to the nines, but most casual in jeans and shirts. A lot of English language tourists passed her by, which meant the Lucerna Music Bar was more than likely keen on English language bartenders.
What the hell, Thea thought, ignoring her grumbling belly. She might as well check it out.
Following people as they followed the music, Thea’s boots echoed across the checkered floor, the sound muffled by the bass in the distance. She passed a statue suspended from the ceiling of a guy riding an upside-down, dead horse. Every time she’d seen it, she’d wondered at its significance and so eventually looked it up. It was supposed to be a satirical version of the statue of King Wenceslas on Wenceslas Square.
Continuing down the hall, the bass led everyone to the left.
At the coat check, Thea risked her worldly belongings and checked her backpack. She took off her shirt and stuffed it into her bag, leaving her dressed in a pair of the new, dark blue jeans she’d bought and a dark green T-shirt. The shirt had a V-neck and showed off her generous cleavage. As wrong and sexist as it was, she found she always got further on the job hunt if she showed a little skin.
Fuck my life, she griped to herself, wondering when it would change. Thea pulled her long hair into a ponytail and handed her bag over at coat check, pocketing her ticket.
She supposed she could use her gifts to live in the lap of luxury and never have to worry about being sexually objectified again, but it would mean hurting people more than she already had.
And Thea was pretty sure she’d filled her quota on that.
Simple Minds’ “Don’t You Forget About Me” filtered out from the music hall and she overheard two English girls saying it was eighties night. Great.
Thea raised an eyebrow as she walked into the dark, smoky room and turned around, looking up. Above was a galleria where more people congregated. The dancing crowd surrounded the stage as the band played a cover. It was smaller than she’d expected. And claustrophobic. Thea stealthily made her way through the crowd, heading toward to the bar when out of nowhere, someone grabbed her wrist.
“What the—” Thea huffed as a young woman hauled her close in the swarming, hot darkness. The stage lights suspended on the ceiling flickered over the girl’s stunning elfin face.