The bait shop was completely dark. It made me question if I got the right place. Or if Hauyne was just pulling my leg this whole time. Knowing my luck, it would be the latter.
And yet, where’s that pulsing vibration in the dirt coming from? Would it be considered trespassing if I look around? Imagine if I somehow got in trouble with the cops on top of everything. That’d be pretty funny.
I made my way to the back of the shop. And there I found that the vibrations were even heavier. Then I saw it. Cellar doors. I turned the handles and pried them open. Loud music and strobe lights seeped from the door at the bottom of the steps. I walked down and opened it. A wave of loud witch house and synth punk slammed into every bone of my body. The vibrations made it hard to breathe. Everything was dark save for the aggressive strobe lights and occasional flash from a camera. And then my vision was blocked by two muscular bodies.
“U-Uh um. Hello there.” I offered sheepishly. They didn’t budge, instead glaring at me with the force of a million daggers.
“Hauyne invited me,” I tried again. At these words, both men nodded and let me through. God that was kind of terrifying. I’m surprised they didn’t pat me down though. Well this place doesn’t exactly look official. I wouldn’t be surprised if heavy drugs were being administered there.
Right as I thought that, I saw a crowd doing lines off of a pool table. That can’t be sanitary. Oh well.
It wasn’t hard to find Hauyne. Even though everyone was dressed similarly to her in gothic, punk, and rave outfits, she was very clearly the life of the party, currently dancing on one of the tables in her chunky sneakers. I felt severely underdressed.
As I made my way over to her, I tied my flannel around my waist, the tats on my arms catching the wild colored lights.
“Chris!” She yelled happily over the music as I approached.
"Hey!” I yelled back.
“I didn’t think you would show up?”
“I’m hurt. Truly.”
Hauyne hopped off the table and grabbed a red cup nearby, shoving the alcohol into my chest.
“It’s my cup! Not roofied, unless you want it to be,” She added with quirked eyebrows. If I was any one else I would think she was kidding. I’m not though.
“I probably shouldn’t. I don’t have a place to stay tonight. I have to be mentally stable enough to find a motel.”
“We’ll take care of that, baby!” A new voice hollered over the music. I turned and found its owner, a man with striking black eyes, half white and half black hair, and an oddly seductive way of carrying himself. Beside him was a taller woman with chocolate skin, two electric red space buns on the top of her head, and a shockingly poreless complexion beneath the rainbow glitter dust decorating her cheeks. I couldn’t tell if she was tall or he was short, but it was a cute sight.
“Imani! Ivory!”
“Hauyne!”
I watched in amusement as the three erupted into hugs and squeals.
“This is Christopher,” Hauyne informed the two.
“Hey,” I awkwardly waved.
“He’s so cute,” the woman giggled.
“I’m Imani. This lovely girl here is Ivory,” the man introduced.
I took a swig from the red cup in my hand. It tasted vile and strong. Perfect.
“How long have you been together?” I asked in a desperate attempt to make conversation. I’m way too sober for small talk.
Imani burst into laughter, informing me that I fucked up big time. “We aren’t dating! She’s like my sister.” To prove his point, Ivory gagged dramatically.
“Oh sorry,” I sighed, drinking as much as I could from the cup before my lungs screamed for air.
“Damn. Downing that like a champ,” Hauyne remarked. I shrugged. I’ve grown a tolerance, not that she needs to know that. Maybe for one night I can pretend I’m not a lame piece of shit.
“Do you want?” the woman asked, waving a bag of small, innocent-looking, pink pills. I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t. I verbalized so.
“Aw come on!”
“It’s just Molly. You’ll feel good in a bit! I promise.”
“I have to be on the road tomorrow.”
“You’ll be sober by then.”
“Come on Christopher, pleaseee?”
“I-” I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t. But-
“Fine.” Fuck it all. I’m screwed anyways.
The small crowd cheered as I popped a pill, washing it down with the next putrid drink I was handed. In only thirty minutes, I was high off my balls. Colors and sounds began bleeding together. I felt fuzzy and warm and in need of physical comfort. I couldn’t tell if I was imagining it, but I kept feeling hands running up my arms, tracing my inked sleeves. The whole room felt like it was breathing. Dancing pressed up against strangers felt somehow familiar. Time itself didn’t exist anymore. Only all these feelings.
At some point those ghost hands were replaced by Hauyne’s. Nothing really made sense anymore. I felt like I should have been confused. But I wasn’t. And then her nose was buried in my neck and another pair of arms was circled around my hips and I couldn’t tell what the hell was happening but I didn’t care all that much either. It was only when her lips were pressed to mine that my brain formulated a half thought, shoving the words out inelegantly from my foreign mouth.
“I’m gay,” I somehow said. Her pale blue eyes deepened in color as she leaned forward again.
“Who the fuck cares?” She purred. And then my lips were on hers, devouring the way the morning does stars. I don’t even give a shit who. Make me feel something. Make me feel wanted. Make me feel.
Her lips tasted like cherry pink and nicotine. There were people everywhere but my own body didn’t feel like a body anymore. I gripped her hips and she deepened it, pulling hard at my hair. And suddenly I wasn’t kissing Hauyne anymore. I was kissing Imani, tugging at his collar, coaxing whimpers out of his mouth with my tongue. Exploring his body knowing that I’ll never remember it.
I don’t recall much else about that party. Only that, despite the drugs and alcohol, I felt more lonely than I’ve ever felt in my goddamn life. I woke up on the dock, slightly more sober and with a raging headache. The sun was just rising over the water. The sky was split into millions of colors. Blue bled into purple bled into red bled into orange bled into pink. And I cried. Enough to make me feel like a shriveled up piece of absolute garbage.
Thankfully I still have my phone. There have been times I lost ID’s, phone, keys even at parties when I got blackout drunk or high. What day even is it?
Getting to my feet was a fucking chore. Everything was still spinning. Screw a motel, I just want my car. I want my blanket. I want to sleep.
I just started walking in a random direction and prayed I would find my way. By some weird miracle, I ended up in the parking lot, my car practically haloed with light from the heavens in my drug-hazed and sad gaze.
I made it. I’m going to crash in the back of my car. Maybe I’ll eat some more of that mess of a cake. Then I’ll sleep for the next twelve hours. It’ll be bliss.
Or so I fucking thought. At top speed, just mere feet away from my haven, a body slammed into me, knocking me to the ground with such force the air was slammed out of my lungs.
“The hell-” I groaned, clutching my abdomen as I turned over in pain. I sucked the air back in my body and searched blindly around me.
“Sorry about that,” A voice whispered sheepishly. A pair of bright green eyes was staring intensely into my own.
“What-” Two hands slapped themselves over my mouth to silence me and I grunted in surprise. I was about to start screaming or some shit. Until I realized police sirens were blaring loudly in the night. Guess I’m not as sober as I thought.
I raised an eyebrow at the figure on top of me. Looking closely, I could make out his face in the still-somewhat-dark. Wait I know this face.
“You’re the-!” The hands slapped back over my mouth. Oops. Didn’t mean to yell. “Chicken wrap man,” I added in a hasty whisper.
“Sorry,” he apologized again. The look on his face made me roll my eyes. How could such an innocent and apologetic-looking person be on the run?
The sirens got louder. The delicate-looking man with caramel skin and curly brown hair began to freak out.
“I need to get the fuck out of here. Can I borrow your car?”
“Fuck no,” I hissed. “I need that car. I’m so far from my house right now.”
“Then take me with you!” The sheer desperation in his voice made me pause.
“Please,” he begged quietly.
“What the fuck is going on?”
“No time. Just please. I can tell you all about it on the way.”
“How the hell am I supposed to trust you? What did you do? Did you kill someone?”
“No! Never! Please. Please help me.”
“I’m going out of state,” I growled.
“Even better! I’ve been trying to leave this place my whole life.” Damn it. Don’t go making me empathize with you now. The last thing I need is the cops on my ass.
“I won’t bother you at all! I just need to get out of here.”
No. No. No. Christopher, don’t do it. You don’t even know this guy. He could be a trafficker. He could be a serial killer. Hell, he could still watch cable porn and pour the milk in before the cereal. You’re out here for a reason. You’re out here for Toby. To get closure and get away from Greenville and those stupid ass people and-
-the monotony of life.
Oh fuck me. I’m so going to regret this.
“Three rules,” I whispered firmly, trying to pretend like the way his eyes lit up didn’t remind me of a happy puppy’s. “One, you don’t get a damn say in where we’re going and that means no complaining because I’m out here for a reason. Two, no arguing with me over the music I play because it is my damn car and that also means I get the blanket and the birthday cake. Three, tell me your name because I’m not going to call you chicken wrap man forever. Oh and a fourth rule, I guess, I’m not sharing my underwear. Don’t get any crazy ideas.”
“Ok! Sure! Thank you so much! And don’t worry about that, I already have everything I need here,” the man motioned to the backpack on his back. I rolled my eyes and wiggled out from beneath him, sneaking to my car. I climbed into the passenger seat with a groan.
“You’re driving first. I’m way too fucked up right now.”
“You’re really trusting a stranger to drive you?”
“I don’t really have a choice.” And even if I do end up dying, at least I’ll see Toby sooner. “The address is already in the gps.”
“I’m Quinn,” the man blurted.
“Christopher. Now get us the fuck out of here. Those sirens are giving me a damn headache.”
I covered myself with my blanket as Quinn backed us out of the parking lot and onto the road, away from the dock and the town and all the police lights and sirens.
“So what’d you do? Tax evasion? Got caught with the wrong crowd? Mommy found your stash? A hit and run? Trespassing? Did you do something stupid on lean? It’s always lean.”
“Why is your first assumption of me tax evasion?”
“You’re working at a goddamn old people cafe. How old are you anyway?”
“Not important.”
“Fucking child.”
“I bet you literally any amount of money that I’m not that much younger than you.”
“Whatever. I’m not an idiot, answer the question.”
“Well literally none of those things you just listed. What the hell happened to you in your life?”
“Hey, I’m asking the questions here.”
“Fine. Fine. A heist.”
“A heist?” I deadpanned. I didn’t believe him for a goddamn second. He smirked in the rearview.
“You don’t believe me?”
“It’s either you’re lying or a stupid ass motherfucker. How do you perform a heist with no backup plan, crew, or a getaway driver at least?”
“It’s stupid trying to explain it,” Quinn huffed.
“Of course it is! That’s a stupid plan! What did you even steal? And from where? And literally why? That town looks like it’s struggling enough.”
“Damn I didn’t know you could get angrier.”
“Don’t fucking test me. My natural mood setting is cranky. On top of that, This year has been shit, I lost the only person who ever really loved me, I barely got any sleep last night, I’m a rat in a maze, and I’m not completely sober yet. My hands are just itching to wring a neck. If you value your life, back the hell off.” I was panting by the end of the rant. Quinn took his eyes off the road for just a second to make sure I was ok. The stupid patient kindness in his eyes made me feel guilty. What the hell… He should be the one feeling guilty.
“Are you ok?”
“Fine,” I huffed, wrapping the blanket tighter around myself.
“I mean I deserved that. Sorry for completely putting a wrench in your plans. The truth is, this town isn’t special at all. But there is one special thing it possesses. There’s an artifact, a necklace worn by some European princess or some shit from centuries ago. No one is quite sure how it got here but if I were to take a wild guess, I’d say through years of pawnshops and the black market. The Angel’s Tear. That’s what it’s called.”
“So you stole jewelry from an old lady?” I asked with another roll of my eyes.
“You must be fun at parties.”
“Actually, I am. Just ask the many people I was with last night who I can’t remember the names of right now.” I defended poorly. I’m way too on edge right now. I need a nap.
“This conversation isn’t over,” I said with a yawn. “But I can’t think straight. I need to go to sleep.”
“Do you want me to wake you up in a few hours?”
“Yeah. Wake me up in a few. And make sure we aren’t being tailed.”
“Already on it. And, uh, Christopher?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks. You know, for helping out a stranger.”
"If you’re lying and this is all some weird plot to kill me, I’m haunting you until the day I can drag you down to hell with me.”
“Um ok sure,” he said, suddenly tense. I rolled my eyes and sunk down in the passenger seat. It seems like he’s more afraid of me than I am of him. Actually, I’m not afraid of him at all for whatever reason. I think I’m just tired of everything. Or maybe it’s because he reminds me of a little pomeranian. I think I’m more afraid about being caught as an accomplice. If that’s the case, when I wake up, we have to talk about splitting the cash. If Imma be charged with aiding a criminal, you bet your sweet ass I’m getting some dough out of that one.
Toby, I’m sorry. Looks like I’m already breaking your rules. I would feel worse about it but, knowing you, you probably already anticipated this.
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