Kizzy fly by night.

Untitled Part 2

Chapter 2.

I slam the car door and gaze up at the neon lights of Piccadilly, for a split second I feel lost.

The driver hurries away anxious to distance himself from any association with me, ha, what a joke. Smirking I shove my hands in my pockets.

The comforting caress of a Rose quartz crystal distracts me from picking at my cuticles. A habit I've never been able to drop. I do it when I'm excited, anxious, you name it. It's kind of like a drug and you get so use to the pain that it really doesn't bother you anymore.

I head for the toilets in the tube station and began the ritual of scrubbing my hands. I soap and wash eight times, as eight is my lucky number. I read that once in a magazine.

Funny the things that stick with you.

After applying clear lip gloss I check inside my shoe to feel the money, It's still there, I knew it would be but I always check as it makes me feel warm and secure. I smile and exhale a bubble of stress, wink at the mirror and exit the station, heading back to Soho.

Staring up at the sky I think of it as my empty vessel, a dawn of a new day, another chance wrapped in hope, my favorite word, without it I may as well throw myself into the Thames and float away. Dreams are what I'm made of and I've got no intention of stopping. I need them as much as I need to breathe, the sky is my canvas and all I've got to do is colour it in.

I amble past theatres, stopping to stare at pictures of the various stars. I like to imagine that it's me up there. See I've got dreams of being an actress one day, kind of like what I'm doing now, you know pretending, playing a role, sort of thing. It's just until I find my feet mind you, as once I reach eighteen the world will be my oyster and London had better watch out.

Berwick Street is bustling tonight with office revelers happy drunks, shop workers, and tourists. You name it, they're out there all out desperate to be part of the freaky night party that symbolizes Soho. I stand up straight and walk forward, keen to make eye contact, smiling brightly, most of the men look away, but that's ok, the night is young.

I step into the road narrowly missing being run over by a black cab which screeches to a halt.

"Kiz! Kiz!"

It's Lulu, I wonder what she wants.

"You busy?" she asks smoothing her hair away from her face.

I peer into the cab curiously and a middle-aged couple smile in the back seat. I turn back to Lulu, all lipstick and eyelashes. She looks good for an old lady really. She has to be at least forty.

"Come on Kiz, help us out. You know I'll make it worth your while."

I sigh loudly, feeling put upon, "Dunno Lu depends on what I'd have to do."

Lulu smiles tightly, "Not much."

The male passenger huffs loudly tapping his watch, "Have we got a deal here or what?"

I hate him already.

The cab driver jumps in on the action, "Get in or get lost. I haven't got all bloody night you know!"

I reluctantly climb in and smile half-heartedly at the couple. I sit opposite them and look, yep, defiantly sleazy.

The male passenger has that look as if to say 'I'm going to give you ladies the time of your lives, the lady appears to be shy but I know this is just an act. There are no surprises left. I jump into character.

"Hi."

He leers back, while subtly groping Lulu. His fingers tap her leg impatiently as the cab pulls away then we all sit back, one big happy family.