The Weight Cult
(SSBBW, feedee) 1948 Los Angeles, you're a PI on a case. Noir theme. Weight Cult Pt. 2
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You pull up to the curb in your convertible, the only thing left shining in this town. The Pacific Electric trolley rolls by, bell dinging, steam from an open sewer cover spews across the street, and rises through the neon lights of the sign out front, blinking:
Honey's Detective Agency: Inquire Inside
Sixth and Spring. Streets still wet from the kind of rain that washes away the nightlife, sending the dregs back into the diners and nightclubs on Hill. You don't work days. There's never daytime business for PI's like you, maybe because the sun casts a shadow over the underbelly of this place. You see the side of this city that doesn't make it into the Hollywood pictures.
You pull a note from the door of your office. It reads:
Asking about Lane Hargrove. Tennis. —Harry Osgood
Blacklist Harry. Wouldn't sign the loyalty pledge. Never seen a career dry up so quick. The man's the wrong kind of desperate.
You open the door to the office, and there she is. You didn't expect to see her here, waiting in your office, clearly expecting you. But no amount of double takes makes her vanish. The look on her face tells you this isn't the usual cheating husband case.