dirty soul

“Ronnie, I’m going home, it’s–I’m too hot, I got a headache…”

“What?!” The man looked at Sky in disbelief, yelling over the thump-thump-thump of the monotonous bass booming from the walls. “It’s only two-thirty, kid!”

“No, I’m–I’m too tired, Ronnie, I wanna… I wanna go home…” Sky slurred, shaking her head and pushing Ronnie away with limp fingers. She was too drunk, too high for this. The strobe lights and flailing limbs of people around her were just overstimulating and claustrophobic now, and she felt like death.

“But you were goin’ out for us tonight, remember?” Ronnie grabbed hold of Sky’s arm and pulled her back, making her stumble on her platform heels and grab onto his shirt. “We got another couple pounds we gotta shift and they’re not movin’ ‘emselves-”

“Ronnie, I’m goin’–I’m going home, a’right?” Sky shoved him away, stumbling back slightly with the force of it. “I’ll make it up to you, dickhead… you can stick it in my ass or somethin’, okay? I’m leavin’ now!”

~

After battling through what seemed like an endless jungle of bodies in the club, Sky let her shoulders fall hard against the brick wall outside as she fumbled in her jacket for a cigarette, flicking her sunglasses with her free hand so they fell back over her eyes. She really was drunk, she really did have a headache, and she really was tired… and she really was going home. Only home wasn’t her apartment. Not really.

Sticking her arm out for a cab, Sky took a deep, long drag on the cigarette and ignored the drunken holler from a passerby as she tried to plan out what she was going to say to Jen. But she gave up after realising she didn’t really have to say much at all… she knew how her friend’s relationship had been going, all Sky had to do was show up.

~

So, when the taxi driver pulled up outside a tall, dirty white apartment building, Sky let her mind go completely blank as she forced her legs to climb the steps inside, the uneven sound of her heels on the concrete echoing in the silent hallways. She pulled her hair back and tied it in a high ponytail as she walked, and undid the top button on her shirt, so that her bra was only just visible, then knocked on the door of Jen and Quinn’s apartment.

Which it did, showing a tired and slightly annoyed Jen standing in the doorway. Sky grinned and reached into her pocket at the sight of her, pulling out an abnormally full bag of off-white powder.

Her mouth was halfway open to curse him out when she realized who was in front of her. “…Oh,” she blinked, her eyes immediately traveling down to Sky’s barely-exposed bra. “You look like you’ve been havin’ a night,” she said quickly, tacking a smirk onto the end of the sentence in an attempt to recover how stupid she must’ve looked. Jen told herself that the sudden increase in her pulse was from excitement at the bag in Sky’s hand, notbecause of how good she looked…

“Nah, the fucker’s not home,” she muttered, half-turning around as she slid her arm around Sky’s waist and tugged her into the apartment, shutting the door behind her. “Probably off fucking that new friend'a his. Dick. He drank all the booze, too…”

After spending the past two weeks with Red, his clothes were covered in blood, most of it his own and not all of it recent. It was in his hair too, and stuck to the skin on one side of his face and down his neck where an especially deep gash was made, bruised around the edges and spanning at least three inches. Smaller cuts were peppered over the visible parts of his skin, and he was grateful she wouldn’t be able to see beneath his clothes where they were much deeper and more plentiful.

“What the fuck have you been getting into?” She suddenly exploded, her voice louder than it should’ve been and her gestures too wild for the small distance between them. “What the--.. What the fuck happened?” A little too rough, she began to tug at the zipper of Quinn’s hoodie, pulling it down so that she could inspect the gash on his neck. Her brow was furrowed, and her anger really only masked the deep concern she felt for him--and she didn’t wanna think about what that meant. 

After just a few minutes’ search, she found Quinn in the shadows under a glowing green sign, the end of his cigarette illuminating his pale hair when he inhaled. Jen sighed, immediately filled with an itchy craving at the sight of it, and she hurried over to him, huddling next to him with her shoulders hunched. 

Being on patrol in the city was never much fun, but it wasn’t horrible. It was what it was – Frank didn’t feel strongly enough about it to feel either way particularly.

Immediately upon getting into the van he looked around at who he’d been put on patrol with: two guys and a girl, the guys sitting in the front and the girl in the back, an empty seat next to her. Saying nothing and letting the others’ existing conversation take up the space, Frank slid into the van and sat right up against the door so that the girl wouldn’t touch him. It wasn’t as bad through clothes and when it was accidental, but he still hated it.

Cool, cool.

Experiencing the worst fucking trip and trying to get in contact with a friend who’s about to go missing if she doesn’t answer her goddamn radio…

Er, sorry, that…

I’m Apollo.

//laughs// I know how that feels, shit. What’d you take?