Outdoors, it was raining. Not hard, but a firm pitter-patter on the roof of the small one bedroom house. Wisps of smoke were flowing through the damp air, disappearing once it drifted into the path of the rain drops. The grey clouds were coming from a young woman with a cigarette tucked between her pursed lips. Her eyes were closed as she breathed out the cancerous vapor. She was safe under her tiny little porch from the rain, just listening to the sound of the rain and the soft alternative music coming from her phone that was sitting on her knee. Her name was Viktoriya and that day had been long for the girl; full of dissatisfied customers and stressful encounters. And to top it all of, the familiar feeling of not knowing herself settled in. Her life seemed rather meaningless even though she did whatever she wanted, or what she thought she wanted. Of course, she was not rich or anything. But, she made enough to live on. Sometimes, she even had some money left to go out. Which was a thought that was edging on her mind rather quickly. Sitting alone and wallowing in her own self pity was not something that she enjoyed doing and one of the things that could assist in stopping that was going out for a drink or two; a distraction. Her mind always brought her back to how her parents would be ashamed of her if they know what she was actually doing with her life. They were living back in London where she grew up, thinking she was still in college. When in reality, she dropped out at the end of her first year. Sitting in lectures and scrambling after deadlines just was not for her, it seemed. She was not doing too terribly though, with her job as a tattoo artist. Or apprentice more like, as she had not been working there for too long. Viktoriya shook her head, clearing it as she decided she was done with the pity party for that night. A large sigh escaped her lips along with another cloud of smoke, flicking the cigarette into the rain. She pocketed her phone and made her way in through the door.
The only light that was on was the living room. All of the furniture was made out of dark colored wood and the walls were an ordinary eggshell shade. But her attention did not waver from her direct path to her bedroom, which was just around the corner from the living room. Now this room was a bit more decorated; the walls painted a deep red with a few rock posters and vinyl records scattering the area. There was a television but it was not much at all. It was a small box shaped one that you could tell had been in a kids bedroom before it was sold at a garage sale. Viktoriya's priorities on electronic spending put stereos and turntables before anything else. She had a black, slick looking turntable sitting on her dresser, which had cost her a few paychecks to afford. It was her pride and joy, being an avid record collector. But she did not bother with putting anything on as she started searching through her drawers for something presentable to wear out. The gray sweatpants and Manson t-shirt she was then wearing would not cut it. After a few minutes of mindless searching, she came up with the best she could do. Being the type of person that she was, she only owned two dresses and both of them were black, unsurprisingly. She took her phone out of her sweatpants pocket and tossed it aimlessly onto the bed, music still spilling from the speaker. A few soft hums escaped from closed lips as she pulled the rather fitting dress over her body. The black material of the cloth making her appear paler than she was, as it usually did. But before glancing in the mirror, she tugged on a pair of fishnets which she believed looked good with any outfit. Her light eyes gazed over her reflection, absentmindedly tugging on the hem of the dress that came down a little below the middle of her thigh. She still had some makeup on from work earlier that day, so all she did was freshen it up a little; add more eyeshadow and such. Her long, black hair had a slight wave to it as it fell over her shoulders quite naturally. With a few spritz of perfume, she grabbed her phone and worn out leather jacket and headed into the living room. She hopped towards the front door as she pulled on her combat boots. Most girls would be wearing heels with the type of outfit she was wearing but it did not even come to Viktoriya's mind. The dark haired female snagged her cigarettes and lighter from the porch and made her way to her car. It was not a very expensive thing either. She had bought it with the money she made from a previous, less respectful, job. But it ran, and that's what mattered. Before long, she was on her way to a well known bar/night club in the city, a lit cigarette in between her thin fingers. Her mind soon focused on the road and the music playing on the radio. Until the sound of her phone's ringtone blared from her pocket. With an impatient groan, she squirmed to get it from her jacket. She tucked the cigarette in the corner of her mouth as she looked at the caller ID, her mother. Another groan slipped from her lips as she answered.
"Hey, mom!" Her voice dripped with feigned excitement.
"Hey, Vik... I was just calling to check in on you," Joy, her mother's Russian accent flowing through the speaker, "Just making sure you haven't forgotten about us yet!" Viktoriya laughed ever so slightly at her old childhood nickname, that she had grown to dislike.
"I'm great, actually. Just heading out to one of those American college parties.." She replied, hating that she had to lie to her mother about being in college but too scared to tell her the truth.
"Oh, how fun! I'll let you go then. Glad to hear you're doing good, I love you. Call me when you have some free time, okay? And don't get into any trouble tonight!" Her mother rambled on. She agreed that she would and that she loved her as well before they both uttered their goodbyes. By then, Viktoriya was pulling into the parking lot of the night club, "The Brown Lady". She hopped out of her car and made her way inside, stomping on the finished cigarette she had previously been sucking on. As soon as she entered, she made a beeline for the bar. She was craving a few vodka shots but, maybe that was just her Russian roots.
"Give me a few shots of Smirnoff and a coke," She ordered loudly so the barista could hear her from the other side of the bar and over the loud music. Viktoriya glanced around as she waited for her drinks. There were a good amount of people there. About how many there should be at ten o'clock on a Friday night. The music was loud and it was some techno genre, something she never got into. But the crowds of dancing people seemed to love it. Or maybe they were just too drunk to notice the songs they were grinding to. The sound of glass hitting the bar broke her from her thoughts as the shots she ordered were placed in front of her. She went to grab her card from her jacket and realized it wasn't there.
"Shit...," she mumbled to herself. Her eyes connected with the barista that was waiting for money. "I forgot my wallet at home."
"I'll cover it," a new voice joined the conversation. Viktoriya's eyebrows furrowed confused as she looked to the side to see a young man that hadn't been standing there a few seconds before. He was wearing the same all black uniform that the barista was and pulling out some cash. She only assumed that he was a bartender as well.
"Here you go, Steph. You can go home now, I gotcha." He spoke to his co-worker, handing her the money before she took off her apron and walked off.
"Uh, thanks. You didn't have to do that..," Viktoriya spoke to the male that had just paid for her shots as he tied the apron around his waist.
He just grinned at her, "you looked like you needed a drink or two." She nodded, silently glad that he had decided to help as she downed her first shot, chasing it with a sip of coke afterwards.
"I'm Viktoriya," She introduced herself to him as she put down the empty shot glass.
He nodded towards her as he discarded her finished glass, "Maynard. Nice to meet you."
