Kizzy fly by night.

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Back at the house Benita and Phoenix snuggle on the sofa watching The Godfather. She had closed the shop, tired of waiting for Kizzy. She stifles a yawn as Phoenix sits enthralled, even though he has supposedly seen the movie 30 times.

He nudges her, "Hey, watch this bit!"

"Can't we watch something else? Anyone would think you've got shares in it." She said rolling her eyes.

He squeezes her arm, "Aw don't be like that." He looks at his watch, "No Kizzy tonight?"

She gets up and heads to the kitchen, "I'm not her keeper, why...You missing her?"

He laughs, "Course not, just concerned that's all."

Benita giggles, "One thing you need to learn about Kizzy is she don't need no concern...especially from you."

He falls back dramatically on the sofa, "Ouch."

She brings in coffee and places it on the table, "Look, why don't we call it a night? I've got a busy day ahead." She hesitates, "I really need to sleep alone."

He sits up alert trying to prise past her brown eyes, was she pulling away? This wasn't part of the plan. He fights back his composure and stands up, "OK beautiful, have it your way. Catch up tomorrow ok."

A flutter of guilt rears its head but she bats it back down, something is wrong but she has no idea what.

Phoenix stands outside by the wall hidden by the hand of a jagged tree. He lights a cigarette and stares into the night taking deep long drags. Not long after he sees Kizzy strolling along the road with her hands in her pockets. He watches slyly, observing her confidence, and swallows back a bubble of rage. She opens the door and closes it quietly and he wonders what it would be like to smash her head in with a hammer.

Kizzy

Soho is heaving. Mornings always put me in a good mood, the air of possibility, new chances, and hidden pasts. Some men on the market stalls wave and I wink back. Half of them I no longer recognize. It's as if the good old days have melted away into a puddle of slush. I notice an abandoned large box on the corner near the bakery and feel a strange longing. Shaking myself free I rummage in my bag for the keys.

Once inside I leap into action laying out an array of pastries, sandwiches, sausage rolls, and cupcakes. The coffee machine is loaded with fresh beans. It splutters into action and all is well with the world. I wipe down the tables and stare outside, a shiver runs down my spine and I shake it away. Soon I become lost in a sea of customers, I imagine Todd sitting at the back table knocking back espressos and smile. He's still around, I'm sure of it, I can feel him.

Benita strolls in at lunchtime time arm in arm with Phoenix. I can't help scowling.

"Not late am I?" said Benita, turning to plant a kiss on him.

"No it's not been that busy, only rushed off my feet." I open a cupboard and grab my bag.

Phoenix studies me smiling and I feel his aura suffocate me, I walk past him and out of the door. "Catch you later B."

Star sat in Tam's flat staring into the mirror, she no longer recognized the girl looking back, the Devil had come and snatched up her soul, she was way out of her depth. Pornography had always seemed immoral to her, which was ridiculous considering some of the repulsive punters she'd serviced, but you know, doing it and having it out there for the whole world to see was a completely different ball game. She loved the idea of fame, endless adoration, and of course, not forgetting money! But doing what was required wasn't as easy as it looked. At the core of it all, she would always be plain old Sue chasing a dream.

Tam had instructed her to dress in a tacky black and red lace lingerie set. It hung miserably on her tiny body as she resignedly applied another layer of thick red lipstick. She smiled at her reflection, grimacing as some of it caked to her teeth. She felt horrible she looked vacant, young, and very lost. Tam rapped at the door,

"Star, get it together we need to do a quick photo shoot to promote the video. Dean should be with us in half an hour."

Her mind raced, the mystery Dean. All she had been told was that he was dark-haired, hairy, and hung like a horse. This image was not appealing. She'd rather sit astride that weirdo Randy any day, somehow it seemed much less threatening. Sighing she buckled up her shoes and left the room as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.