dark horse >> malum

Chapter One

When I passed the young man on the sidewalk, he jerked his head to the side awkwardly. Did he think I didn't notice things like this? It made me want to keep walking, but... As I glanced over my shoulder, he pulled out an iPhone. All his clothes look expensive. Hell, I wore some of those brands myself at one point.

Closing my eyes and hoping I wouldn't get a smack or, worse, spat on, I turned around, and followed at a brisk walk despite my legs aching. 'Please, please, please..'

"Excuse me? ... You look like you could use some company."

—

I felt my face heat as I turned to face the whore. I only knew because of that one sentence, but already I was scowling at him. "Not interested," I muttered, pulling my arm away to leave. But he wouldn't let go.

"I said I'm not interested." I snapped loudly, flatly. "Let go."

I will never know how to explain the look that I saw in his eyes. "Please," he whispered, "I'll do anything. you can do whatever you want to me. I just need-"

"Need what? The feel of someone new inside you every night? The money behind your heroin addiction? I. Said. No." He flinched at the insults, but I didn't feel bad. I said no. I had no interest in messing around with some street urchin.

He finally pulled away and started back in the direction he'd been heading before he'd stopped me. Filthy whore. "Could've apologized," I mumbled as I turned and stomped off toward my usual route home. My phone buzzed in my hand, and I realized that I'd never texted Luke. I'd see him tomorrow, anyway.

Ashton's contact image popped up on the screen and I felt my anger ebb away almost instantly. "Hey babe," I chirped as I answered the phone.

"Hey," he replied, sounding disconnected. It was typical of the curly-haired boy. "You coming over tomorrow?"

"I dunno, Luke and I have a project due for design, so he and I might have to meet tomorrow night. I'll let you know?"

"Sure."

"Great." I pulled out a piece of gum and popped it into my mouth, cinnamon leaving a nice spicy burn on my tongue. My thoughts were still revolving around that prostitute and it was starting to get on my nerves. He shouldn't have been what I was thinking about as I talked to my boyfriend. "Oh my god, some slut stopped me on the way home. Asked if I needed company." I giggled into the phone receiver and glanced in a dress stop as I headed by. Ugly designs, as always. I could turn their world upside down if I could just graduate from this damn school.

"Seriously? What did she look like? How old was she?" I could hear the smirk crawling over the other's face.

"It was a boy, actually. And I'm not sure. Seemed to be my age, so nineteenish. He had dark skin and dark hair. He was a walking fashion suicide, too," I added, beginning to describe the monstrosity that was this kid's outfit, but Ashton cut me off.

"You know I don't give a shit about your stupid fashion crap, so just shut up."

I flinched a little but bit my lip, frowning slightly. He sounded.. Nervous? What, was he afraid of the other young man stealing me away or something?

But he'd always been like this. I knew better than that. "Right, sorry."

"I just don't get how you always forget." His pretty angel voice made me forget that he was an asshole, even as he insulted me.

"Well, I'm home," I said quickly as my apartment came into sight. "Call you tomorrow?"

"Yeah," he said shortly. "Bye."

"Love you, Ashton."

"Bye."