In This World Of Butterflies (1D BxB)

4. Exposure

A loud bang resounded throughout the street. Gunfire. Not a single NightBlights ceased their actions, other than the college kids because one girl had tripped on her heel before the fire, and now they were all on the ground in laughter.

I checked my surroundings , but I didn't see anything suspicious or disgustingly disturbing. No blood, no shooter, no second fire. The shooting happened somewhere else. 

I started moving at a more urgent pace, more desperate to find him now more than ever, challenging my earlier leisurely walk. The gunshot made me paranoid. Though I knew the possibility of the gunshot being Niall related was fairly slim I couldn't help but worry. That kid is liable to talk himself into anything.

Please be ok Ni.

~~ Niall~~

A few hours earlier...

I walked down the filthy, falling apart, crap excuse for a street with my head held high and my eyes wandering. I had absolutely nothing on me besides the clothes on my back, but the lowlifes around here would jump you if they thought you had a piece of gum. They had nothing better to do other than sit around in strips of fabric and sagging pants and wait for their Comps to come in.  If I was in their position I guess I'd try to find entertainment as well, but drugs, murder, theft, and prostitution aren't exactly the first things that come to my mind as fun. Nethanderthals that's all they are, incapable of adequate self-function and thought.

Exactly the reason I wouldn't bother wasting my time to stop and ask for directions. Not only would they try to jump me so they could put my hair on the chop block to make 'weave' but they wouldn't even know how to give me directions to the Connector so I could return to the surface, let alone communicate it. I don't speak Nether. No I'd much rather take my chances of walking until I meet some sign indicating where to go, since Louis was into much of a hurry to go find some ass to eat that he couldn't even leave me my damn PA. I swear I will kill him the next time I see him. If I make it out of this hell hole without getting shot for wearing the wrong colors.

I'd been walking down streets passing all kinds of disturbing shit- it took everything I had to keep my mouth shut, but I do have myself to worry about. These Nethanderthals wouldn't see my insight on how they could improve their lives as that. No they'd probably try to jump me because they thought I was insulting their mother or something. I have to watch my looks after all, who wants a picture of a bruised faced? No matter how handsome. Not to mention, that would hurt... A lot.

I had enough problems without that. When I had been so rudely shoved from the car the sun was already beginning to set and now it was almost completely dark.

My feet hurt from walking. My back ached from standing. I was tired off my ass. My head was hurting. I was starving, but every food place I passed made my stomach churn either from the revolting smell, the disgusting establishment, or both. Whether the odor was the food or the people was anyone's guess. It's not as if I could have purchased anything to eat, even if I had found a place that was not absolutely and utterly nauseating, my PA was in Louis car. Meaning I was moneyless, contactless, timeless, GPSless, internetless, and scheduleless. And to top it all off I'm missing the newest episode of Dangerous Desires. Now how am I supposed to know whether or not Michael found out that Cherie is cheating with Lance! Louis is so lucky it's not the season finale. There would be blood.

"Hey sexy," an incredibly nasally voice purred. The owner of said voice was a tanned red-head. Her hair was cut in an unattractive curly pixie cut that did nothing to complement her round make up caked face. Her blue eyes were highlighted with silver, but the most attention getting parts of her were hot pink lips, and her clothes. She had more skin showing than was covered by her tight half hot pink turtle neck shirt  that barely came within an inch of her belly button revealing her toned stomach and had a strange neckline that went out to her shoulders before swooping down to show off her large amount of cleavage, barely covering her nipples. Her bottoms were revealing black spandex high-waisted short-shorts, showing off her long thick, tanned legs, hot pink heels, and occupation. She was a whore. Though the clothes were a dead giveaway, it was her sickly sweet arousing smell that confirmed that thought. Even though I'd never been with one, I'd been out with my brother enough to know the smell of a whore's aphrodisiac.