Young & Broken (Vicerylle)

2. Deadlock

"A bit of vodka. No ice."

The bartender placed a small glass in front of her and Karylle took it into her grasp. She stared at the contents for a while. She was under aged to be drinking; but that was the beauty of it, right? To be able to take part in tasting the forbidden fruit, yet in this case, alcohol. She sipped, the familiar and welcomed liquid burning as it went past her throat.

Her gaze darted to the entrance every now and then; he still hadn't arrived yet. But Billy was only being himself; it could be five minutes to five hours before he decided to show up. So she had decided to make herself comfortable at the bar. Maybe if she drank enough, she could make up an excuse about being drunk and go home early for the night.

Karylle had never liked private parties, where the richest of the rich and the classiest of the classy all decided to chat and eat caviar and crackers. She craved for the sounds of coin machines and the feel of money between her fingers. Fast-paced, lively, and all risk; the casino was her place, not soirees. Drinking the last of her vodka, she requested another. Even though she never enjoyed galas, she still liked to dress for them if forced to go. Her apparel for that evening was elegant. She had chosen one of her best dresses; a deep crimson colored, thin-strapped material that clung to every part of her body leaving little for the imagination. The cleavage was dangerously deep, yet that was the way she liked her more formal outfits. Nor did Karylle mind any and every compliment given to her, she would basically indulge herself with the praises.

After her fourth glass of vodka, Karylle had finally grown impatient and irritable. Not only was she supposed to meet Billy but also friends of his. Yet she could only stand to wait for a person for so long. If she did, she would probably appear desperate for a relationship and that was not her intention. Even though they had been seeing each other for a few weeks, and Karylle did have strong affection for him; she was not ready to know about his life. If that even made sense. He knew so little about her own personal life and she planned to keep it that way for a few more weeks. Or at least until she could trust herself to talk about such touchy subjects. Talking about her past...talking about her mother...had never been to her benefits.

But she could never honestly say her and Billy's relationship didn't have its own confusion. Sometimes, out of the blue, he would treat her so coldly. Like a complete stranger. But Karylle could never understand why he couldn't trust her. She had heard the rumors, especially when she visited him while he was at work. It had started when she and Billy begun dating. She remembered how some people believed she was just some shameless prostitute. How Billy had 'hired' her to be his personal whore.

Karylle smirked, the vodka was finally taking its toll on her. "But I know from experience," She murmured quietly. "Sex with Billy is never about tenderness and passion." Slipping from the stool, she made her way through the crowded hall and onto the silent balcony which overlooked a well-lit garden and fountain.

Spring weather was at its prime but the night air still chilled her skin to the bone. Karylle wrapped her arms around her bare shoulders to keep the much needed warmth. It was either bare the cold or go back inside. But the sudden feel of a jacket being slipped around her stopped her from turning. Gratefully, she grabbed the jacket's arms, not caring who had given it to her. But who, she asked herself mentally, was the person? Her inquiry was answered when they spoke.

"Pretty cold tonight, isn't it?" The person, a man, with a voice as blithe as anything. She had still not turned from her position, opting to keep her eyes on the water fountain.

"Yeah," Karylle whispered. "Thanks, for the jacket."

"No need for thanks." He replied. There was placid silence before he spoke again. "So...do you come here often?"