The A Team: A Novella

Chapter Three: Gorillaz - "Feel Good Inc."

            Nina's flat, as I am informed by her, is really a loaner from Jax; the head drug dealer in the city. He's the kind of guys who thrives on risky deals and cheap hair gel. I didn't like the sound of this guy, but it was my best chance of getting rid of this jittering sick feeling that writhed in my stomach like summer cicadas rising from the dirt. They were sharp, flickering pains of want. I just need to calm them down is all, but truthfully, nothing really helps if it's not a drug. I had to keep my hands busy; constantly rubbing my thumb and pointer fingers together anxiously. I'd gone four days without a fix before. Why was it so bad now?

It wasn't a large place, but enough for maybe three our four people to live comfortably in. Nina supposedly only lived here until Jax tells her to stay somewhere else for a few days so his family can come visit. But for the most part, she stayed in one place. The creaking door let to a short hallway with a set of stairs up to two opposite apartment doors. Nina chose the one to the right; unclicking the lock and stepping aside to let me in. Another long hallway with multiple openings greeted me. The door clicks shut behind me; Nina emerges and begins to give me a glossed over tour, "These rooms to your right are for other passerby's to come to stay in every so often. I've been here the longest, so I'm like the Hagrid of this place; I take care of it. Halfway down the hall is my room, and the last entry way is a former bedroom turned living room. It all links together in a line, really, because the kitchen is on the other side of that and so is the only bathroom. Want a beer?"

"Sure, " I say, as Nina strolls off towards the kitchen and I settled myself down on her futon in the "bedroom turned living room". Cozy. I wouldn't mind staying here for a little while; just to get myself more familiar with the city and living on my own. She returns a minute later with two-opened Budweiser's, handing one over to me kindly.

"So, Janie, what brings you to good ol' Beantown?"

I take a timid sip of my beer, the bitter flavor of hops settling on my taste buds, "That's a rather long story."

She titled her head curiously, "Well, I won't push you if you don't want to talk about it. Round here, everyone has a story. It's never really good. Most come from broken homes, I think. How about we just give basics about each other? Like...something we'd type onto a social media profile. Want me to go first?"

I nod, letting out the breath I was holding for some reason. Guess the idea of telling my deep secrets wasn't the best idea at the moment, since my anxiety of it all practically forbade me to breathe. It was nice of her to do something like this and not push for details. I certainly wasn't used to it, but that was enough to make me like her as a friend that is. I'm not into girls.

She began by pursing her lips; pondering her mind to grasp upon some memories and typical markers that defined her, "My name is Nina Aria Monroe. I'm a twenty-year-old former high school dropout. I emancipated myself from my Ma when I was eighteen when the foster system thought my Ma was incapable of taking care of me. In reality, I was just a handful and she worked three jobs. She could deal with my ADD issues, and slapped me one day. I don't blame her. I'd slap me if I were she, too.

"I'm a bit of a bitch, and I take no ones shit. You screw me over once, and we're threw. I live the way I do for the fun of it. I can't stand rules and boundaries. I take and deal heroin strains on the side for extra cash. I like being inhuman, I guess. I'm not following the typical path of a girl my age by getting a boring fucking job, dating a boring fucking guy, having a ton of psycho, maniacal kids, and living in a plain, and lifeless fucking house. I don't live for those things. I want to create; I want to live life rule less. My hair reflects my philosophy...." She trailed off, lost in thought.