frankie [episodes 1-3]

-10-

The crumpled directions to Ink Stains and the flyer for Rebecca's band seem to burn through my jeans pocket as I sit through Psychology. I don't even know why I'm still carrying them around. I'm not considering actually going, am I?

"...and in Presentation of the Self in Every Day Life, Goffman says we present ourselves in different ways dependent on our audience, which leads to some interesting questions about identity and who we are beneath the performance..."

Kim, our teacher, talks animatedly at the front of the room, but I can't focus on her words. I keep thinking about what Carter said. He thought I could access the thoughts of the dead girls who make up my body; he thought I could tap into their skills. My mind brings forward the image of his face when he realised I couldn't. His disappointment adds another piece of emptiness to the hollow abyss growing in my gut.

But still, last night's dream keeps coming back. It niggles at me; whispers in my brain, gnaws at my conscience.

Daisy wants me to go to the tattoo parlour.

The man with cat like eyes knows something.

When I'm packing away my things at the end of the lesson Rebecca saunters over.

"She's a freak magnet," I overhear Sarah whisper to Chris, one of the boys who I used to have a crush on. He sniggers. Rebecca doesn't seem to notice.

"You thought anymore about tonight?"

Yes. I want to come.

Sarah's laughter gets louder and I swing my bag over my shoulder.

"I'm not coming. I'm not who you think I am."

The corner of her lip tugs upwards and there's an irritating look in her eyes – it's like she knows that I'm considering it. And I am. But something about this is personal. I don't need an audience. I've had an audience every damn day for the whole year and a half I've been back. If I go, I go alone.

Rebecca smiles.

"It's not who I think you are that matters. It's who you think you are that does." She makes her way to the door then stops, glancing over her shoulder, "And I think you might surprise yourself if you gave yourself a chance."

She disappears behind the door.

The two slips of paper still burn into my leg through my pocket.

***

At the end of the day, after waiting for Courtney and her gang to disperse, I hurry past the bus stop and make my way down Kensington High Street. The lights from shop windows permeate the darkness; each one spotlighting me as I pass before allowing me to sink back into the cover of night. I wrap my scarf around my face - protecting myself from the cold winds and stares from passing cars. Finally  I reach Kensington High Street Tube Station.

Before I allow myself any time to think about it I swipe my Oyster Card against the barrier and make my way to the platform. Then, after consulting my directions, I step onto the next train and make my way towards Brixton and Ink Stains; the last place Daisy Malone was seen alive.

***

The outside of Ink Stains is brash – I don't know how else to describe it. Its name is written in flashing, neon lights above the glass front, and the low roar of metal music blares out into the street. It's not my kind of place at all and I pull my coat tighter to my body, shielding myself from its glare.

I think about turning back but my feet won't let me. I've made it this far, I may as well take a look inside.

My hand lingers on the door-handle for a moment before a middle-aged, heavily tattooed couple burst out into the street – bumping into me. I brace myself for the inevitable comments about my appearance but they don't come. Instead the couple apologise, exposing pierced tongues, and head on down the bustling street.