Spades -Past- 1212
I was wearing one of the dresses Kellea told me to buy. It was covered in gaudy blue sequins and I was wearing combat boots on my feet. My fingers stunk like bleach and were dyed a mottled purple and blue from the hair dye I just used. My hair was separated with a middle part, both in sloppy dutch braids. My makeup, done in the same colors, was streaky and my fingers were caressing the trigger of Kellea's gun, while I thought about what I was going to do. I even took the time to paint little spades and stars on my face with her liquid eyeliner, the one she never let me use.
The streetlights were gray, everything was gray except for the lighted sign above the drug store where I stood. It read Marshall's Liquor in the same blue as my hair. My heart was pumping and I was angry. Kellea and I were finished although I never even told her I left.
The pockets of the dress and the worn purple jacket I found were filled with bullets for when the gun ran out. I blinked, my eyelashes brushing my cheeks. The street was dark. Although the lights of Aforica never stopped glowing in the distance, those tall skyscrapers and shiny glass buildings I wasn't good enough for. I wiped my nose with the hand the gun was in, staring through the glass window of the drug store to the lights over racks of merchandise. I didn't know why I had a gun in my hand or what I was even going to do with it. I just wanted something so I was going to take it.
I exhaled, pointing the gun at the glass. I squeezed the trigger, a bullet hitting the glass. It shattered, frozen for a second before falling to the cement tinkling like windchimes. Euphoria flooded my senses even better than when Kellea let me shoot up. I giggled, I actually giggled and took a step forward. There was a beeping inside the little store that smelt of plastic and snacks in bags.
My chest rose and fell with the waves of elation crashing over me as my purple painted lips stretched into a smile. There was a counter at the end and behind it a rack of sticks. That. That was what I needed. I would need what Kellea gave me too but that wasn't attainable in a drug store.
I watched my finger, the fingernails Kellea made me keep short because only whores and straights had long nails, pull the trigger again. The bullet hit the floor ricocheting off and hitting a light. The place was supported by machines, you could take what you wanted and the money would be charged digitally. But I had no money. I did have a gun. I kept pulling the trigger, shooting at the counter and hitting the glass behind it. While it shattered I shot at the shelves, the lights flickering as bullets hit them. I reloaded as fast as I could and at one point I hit the fire alarm.
The loud beeping mixed with the high pitched alarm for the break in. The water wet my hair, dye washing out of my braids, the makeup streaming down my face. I laughed up at the water, shaking my head back and forth, my arms outstretched.
Then I reloaded the gun and continued shooting ahead, alarms wailing in the distance. I pulled myself on top of the counter, boots squeaking in the water as I hopped off before the case of sticks. I pocketed the gun with only three bullets left, taking a pack out of the display. It was still raining in the wailing store as I hopped on the counter, ripped the package open, and slid the cartridge together and lifted the white rectangular machine to my lips.
I inhaled, mist streaming through my lungs and out my nose as I pulled it away, purple lipstick marks where I had my mouth, letting it leak through my teeth.
My eyes flickered closed as I exhaled the last of the vapor and lifted the stick to my mouth again, breathing in.
"Hey!" Someone walking by pointed inside of the little shop. I pulled the gun out of my pocket, holding the machine in my mouth and shot at the floor. The person ran away, vanishing in the dark. I needed to leave now. Everything felt better after the mist though, my head was clearer, my thoughts calculated even though my esophagus burned.
I lifted the gun to the ceiling, shot twice before jumping off the counter and striding to the shattered door. My makeup was melting down my face, the fresh dye of my hair running over my features and staining the dress and jacket.
I stepped into the night, the alarms and sprinklers running, the little white machine still in between my fingers. I needed somewhere to hide, now they would know I was a criminal.
I would be wanted. I laughed, dropping the empty gun. I had no use for it anymore. I laughed again striding down the streets, inhaling the vapor through my mouth and out my nose.
I would go to one of Kellea's hangouts, where she stayed while I worked and found customers. It was underground, hidden from the cops. I found the alleyway, tucked between two apartment buildings. It was closer to Aforica's center and the green graffiti that was sprayed on the walls told me I was in the right place.
I dropped the stick, it had run out, and strode down the metal staircase, my boots clanking. There was a walkway down here, one that may have been used by the government but was long abandoned to criminals and people who needed a place to hide. I found a door, pushed it open and found myself in the club.
I was never allowed inside, Kellea told me to wait outside when I was done working or find another client. But never go inside.
It smelt like alcohol and bodies, people kissing and sweating. Music played so loud my brain was rattling in my ears. There were lots of hidden places like this.
When people aren't smart enough they can't get jobs. But the government still expects us to work, even though the world has no place for people like us. So we do work. In all sorts of different ways and places.
The floor was platinum silver and strips of blue and purple glowing light stretched overhead. There was a bar in the back and on the side of the wall to my left. The center of the club was a few steps below the rest of the floor, just beneath a huge glowing white block. There were women dancing on platforms with hardly any clothing, artwork of similarly dressed women decorated the wall in various lewd poses.
I smirked, dye still dripping down my head, leaving puddles in my wake. I pushed past a woman in a tube top and jeans singing to whatever song was playing. She held a drink above her head, voice terribly off key. I pushed through a man kissing a woman far too drunk to comply, nauseous for her, the strap of her dress falling off. We were all here for the same thing. To forget what we are. I slithered past three men calling to one of the dancers on her platform.
"Beautiful ass darling," one of them shouted. "Come down and lemme touch it."
I passed a man handing a woman a bag of something gray while she slid him a paper with a banking code on it.
I looked back into the lowered pit, where a man and woman lounged on the sofa . Both watched me with clear eyes. I ignored them while the lights of the place flickered into what I thought was red and the same blue.
I just wanted to get to the bar for something to distract me. I slid past a couple dancing together, clearly drunk and took a seat in the corner at the far end. I ordered something quick, my mind blurring from the bright colors I couldn't really see. A dark man slid into a seat beside me and put the money for my drink down.
He was tall and broad, missing a front tooth. His eyes were small and he looked like he was on a permanent high, his suit far too tight in all the wrong places.
"How are you this evening sweetie?"
"Fuck off," I said, sipping the drink that was placed before me.
He leaned closer, running a hand down the arm of my jacket, fingers closing on my forearm. "You looking for anyone tonight?"
Another man appeared beside him. "Jack, you ain't fucking her unless you pay. That's Kel's bitch."
I turned my gaze to the new man. He was one of Kellea's acquaintances, he'd been at the house before. He answered to her.
The other man recoiled in disgust before standing up. "I'm not fucking some gay whore."
He left me with the other man who took his seat. "I'm not with Kel."
"Why you here then?" He was dark skinned, his hair long and greasy. I never liked him when he visited the house. Sometimes Kellea forced me to help him. But Kellea wasn't here to force me on him. I was in control.
"I got in trouble."
"Still gay?"
I looked at him while he laughed to hide the annoying question. I took another sip of my drink before turning away to leave.
"Hey wait." He took my arm, forcing me to sit. "I'm serious. I wanna know."
"I like men too."
"Well I know that!" He laughed again. "You blew me once."
"Oh," I said. I remembered the cold bathroom floor, his pants slipping down and his hands pulling in my brown hair. I didn't want to be near him anymore.
"You still work like that?"
"No."
"How you paying?"
"I've only been away a few days."
"Oh, the split is fresh. How's Kel taking it? I haven't seen her-"
"Can I buy it off you?"
His lips curled into a stomach tightening smile. "Sure..." His hand rose to my jaw, forcing me to look at him while I inhaled, anxious tingles running through me. "You're even hotter now... Yeah, you could get it off me, but this time I get more than head. I got some now, we could head somewhere, you get the rest later."
"Where you want it?" I said weakly, glancing back towards the club filled with drunk women and high men. "Here?"
"I have some limits," he joked, like he wouldn't have me do it in a dimly lit corner. The woman from the low pit on the sofa stood up, striding in this direction.
I blinked, looking back at him as he released my face and stood. He offered me a hand, acting the gentleman, to help me up. I was resigned to where this evening would end. Maybe someday I would march back into the house I just left and shoot her for starting me on this life, because now I couldn't stop and I had to pay somehow. It wasn't really her fault though.
We were on our way out when the woman approached us. Her hair was half shaved, flopping over one side of her head, the rest long and brown. Her skin tone was brown as well, her eyebrows bushy and unplucked over blue eyes. She had a septum piercing, three lip piercings, a nose ring and when she spoke her tongue was pierced too. Her entire face had some sort of jewelry drilled in it, especially her ears, which were poked with metal dangling and mended in her skin.
"Locke, move," he said.
"Get the fuck out of my club."
"Just what we're doing-" He tightened his grip on my arm pulling me past her. Her black nailed fingers wrapped around my arm.
"Does she want to go?"
I yanked my arm from hers. "Fuck off you bitch. I know what I'm doing."
Her pierced eyebrow rose.
"See, Locke," his hand dropped to my ass, squeezing me. I would have slapped his touch away but I wanted metal face to leave off.
"I don't allow this shit here."
"It won't be here, we're leaving," I snapped.
"I don't allow prostitution."
"I'm doing this cause I want to."
"So you can get shit from him, now you-" She pointed at him. "Leave."
"You can't seriously-"
"I said leave, or never come back."
He rolled his eyes. "Really Locke, you're gonna do that? Just let me handle my shit-"
"I am. Get out. Come back and I shoot."
"You won't."
"I've done worse."
"God," he flashed me a look like this was somehow my fault. "Good luck finding someone else willing to fuck your gay ass."
I narrowed my eyes as he left then spun on the woman. "Really? You couldn't have just let it happen? Now I'm going to have to find it somewhere else!" Or go back to Kellea.
"You're coming with me."
I was getting frustrated. If I didn't find something soon. I couldn't... I'd never even gone this long before. As we walked, I noticed she was wearing a suit, cut down low to show the skin of her sternum gold chains around her neck and no makeup whatsoever.
She took me to the low sofas she had been perched on, people waiting there now. She flopped next to a man. I think he was wearing only green and pink, but those colors looked strange in my eyes. His boots were thick and heeled, his hair shaved on one side and flopping over the other, a heavy fur jacket rested over his shoulders. His shirt was pink and tight, pants the same idea but green. He blinked what I thought were green eyelashes and took a sip of his drink, one leg over the other.
On the other sofa across was a young girl, too young to be in a place like this. She wore a black skirt, her scraped knees closed and touching like a schoolgirl. Her light blue eyes stood out against her pale skin and dark eye makeup. A white and black striped long sleeved striped shirt was tucked in the waistband of her skirt, chains hanging off it. Her hair was black, the roots beginning to show blonde and she sat on her hands, not meeting my eyes. There was a gold chain around her neck, the pendant falling on her chest.
"I like to be called Bullet Face." The woman said.
I laughed, still pissed at her for chasing away my only chance to get Adenophyll.
"Flare," She pointed to the man in green and pink who raised his hand slightly, still sipping his drink.
"Bolt," Bullet Face said, "My hitwoman."
The young teen glared at me while I glared right back.
"Now what do you want with me?" I spat.
"We'll get to that, but I have a feeling you're a little bit like us."
I raised an eyebrow, my makeup still smudging down my face. The music was still so loud, the people choking. "We'll get you what you need, you'll be comfortable, I promise, but first you're gonna have to tell us your story."
"Why are you helping me?" I snapped.
"Because," Bullet Face said, "We have a vendetta and we wanna blow shit up and I know of what we can hit. Do you wanna make the men up there-" she gestured to the outside world, "Pay?"
I looked at the faces around me, the young girl, and the green haired man.
"Good, because we do too and we're gonna shoot some people to make up for it."