Miss Saigon · Y/n story by @sparklindiamond

The heat hit first. Thick, wet, clinging like a second skin as the bar's ceiling fan sliced through the cigarette smoke in lazy, useless circles.

John Thomas

pulling up a chair at a sticky table near the back Christ, Chris. You look like a man about to be shot.

Gigi

appearing out of the smoky haze, a slim Vietnamese woman in a red ao dai, her lipstick a gash of pink Johnny! You come back. You miss me?

John Thomas

Every night, beautiful. You know it.

Gigi laughed, a practiced sound, and slid onto his lap. Her eyes flickered to Chris, appraising.

Gigi

clicking her tongue Your friend, he is sad tonight. Too much work?

From the corner of the bar, behind the counter stacked with bottles of Ba Muoi Ba, the engineer wiped a glass. He nodded towards a figure standing near the back curtain.

Engineer

gesturing with his chin New girl. Kim. Just started tonight.

Chris followed his gaze. She was apart from the others, not mingling with the soldiers clustered at the bar. A girl, barely a woman, with dark hair falling across a face that held none of the bright, desperate cheer of the other bargirls. She looked like a deer caught in headlights. Lost.

Engineer

You want a drink? Go say hello.