Pyramids [Frank Ocean]

Start.

The media often portrays Las Vegas as a city of vibrance, serenity, and of course—a well rounded place for all ages; what it failed to show were the downsides, like the decrease in economy, and the increase in suicide rates -you know, shit that emphasizes the social issues other than education, something Nevada prided itself so much on.

Hāna couldn't completely relate with the youth, though, she'd seen A few students discussing miscellaneous things amongst friends she assumed on their way to school in her day-to-day routines of course—often reminiscing to be in their shoes at times. Rather, she was selling herself short by sleeping with various men to make ends meet—an ugly profession at that.

How'd she tell her kids this?

That her mom didn't finish high school, nor had any recollection of her youth, or how this way of coping begun?

She was some whore, wandering aimlessly around the Vegas strip looking for clients, Often times people stared in disgust as she ventured. At first Hāna was a bit self-conscious at the roaming eyes that seemed to follow her on buses, cities, and shrines—but now Hāna grew accustomed to it to say the least.

"Aye," A velvety voice mumbled, causing Hāna to shake from her deep stupor as she observed her surroundings; An alley way, Hāna told herself mentally with her back hunched over and gaze landing down her over-worn heels—the same panties she put on this morning were crinkled at her ankles while the stranger's beefy fingers thrusted into her without as much of a warning, causing a yelp of pain mixed in with pleasure to sound her lips. His size was average and by the assumption of his erratic movements, he was also inexperienced when it came to pleasuring the opposite sex.

However, what he did next caused her to eyes to widen in bewilderment as her back met the brick wall, knocking a few used cardboard boxes over in the process,

"Suck me off," he panted grabbing her forcibly by the shoulders hoping she'd kneel down.

"That wasn't what you paid for," She fumed, her heels grazing concrete as her knees touched the ground, his cock sprung at her face.

"you bitch! I paid enough don't you think?" He hissed gripping the back of her head, roughly pulling her lips to his manhood. "You're pretty expensive as well,"

Expecting her to be docile and comply to his ministrations, the client was taken aback when a sharp pain jolted up his spine then right to his manhood.

He removed his hand away from her hair, but knuckles making contact with her nose. Hāna letting out another yelp as her dainty fingers covered her nose, hoping to alleviate pain from her client's sucker punch.

"Slut," his voice sounded in utter disgust, "there's no hope for someone like you in this world, you might as well commit suicide while you're still young." Her client left her to resonate with that, his silhouette now ways from here as she took time to reflect on such harmful words.

"Now that wasn't very nice," Hāna says monotonously as she felt a wet substance drip down her nose, now becoming constant when she removed her hands to see what it was,

Blood.

Great, just what she needed right about now, she pulled herself together before venturing out the alley, ignoring disapproving eyes along with the ogling ones that danced around the curvaceous of her legs up to the skimpy skirt that showed more skin than coverage.

"I'm going to get an earful from my boss about it later tonight," Her thoughts coming as a deadpan while her nose remained covered up, still reeling back to the events unfolded at the alley-way.

Slut.

A word that came commonly to Hāna, as if it were her name, yet a word she'd refuse to accept. It was needlessly degrading and often times misogynistic—she'd REFUSED to ever let a word so defiling against who she was, define her.