As Michelle stepped into the lobby in the Chicago airport, she couldn't help but notice that everyone's eyes in the room were glued to her. She reveled in the fact that even in the city she was from, where no one would know her, people couldn't help but stare. Smiling to herself she hurried to the baggage claim; once she had gathered everything and placed it on a luggage cart, she slide her designer Gucci sunglasses down over her eyes, and pulled the luggage cart outside. No one had told her whether or not someone was going to pick her up or if he had to hail a cab; as she thought about it, a cab didn't sound like a bad idea. She raised her hand flagging down the first cabbie that she saw, as the driver stepped out she offered to help Michelle with the baggage; "Help?" Michelle began to say, "Do YOU not just put all the luggage in???" As the woman laughed Michelle took in every inch of her, from her bleach blonde hair down to her cheap looking sparkling flats. "Ms. I don't know what you're used to, but no. I do not put your luggage in for you. And by the way, the names Cynthia." "Oh. I'm Michelle." After a pause she picked up her purse and her special bag, the one she had perfectly hidden in a compartment within her suitcase, placed them in the cab and then helped Cynthia place the rest of the baggage in the trunk. Once Michelle had taken a seat in the back seat she handed a paper with directions to the Down Under; after reading the paper the Cynthia raised an eyebrow at her, "So, you're one of those girls." The statement was so blunt that Michelle was taken aback; "What do you mean 'one of those girls'? There is nothing wrong with my profession as a dancer." "Dancer?", scoffed Cynthia, "Never have I heard of a person being just a dancer in a club. Those girls are into feud, drinking, sex, and whomever they can get their hands on." The judgement from this woman, who had just met her, pisses Michelle off beyond comprehension, "Who are you to judge me? I chose this profession and whatever comes with it. The drugs, the alcohol, the sex, ALL of it. I knew what I was doing, and I chose to continue. Keep your comments to yourself." Cynthia simply shrugged, "Have it your way ms." After 20 minutes more of awkward silence, Cynthia pulled the cab in front of the club, and just as she was getting out to help Michelle with the luggage, a man who had come running out the club bumped into her and nearly knocked her over. "RUDE FUCKING HOOLIGAN!!!" Cynthia screamed at the man, "My bad miss!" but he man kept running even as he apologized. Still pissed, Cynthia's offer to help with the luggage came out rather rudely "Here's your stuff ms. Need help taking it in?" "No thank you Cynthia. Here's your pay." And with that Michelle walked towards the building that would be her knew he until she found her family. "I will find them," she thought to herself, "how hard can it really be, how many Garcina family members could there really be." With a sigh, she went straight up the man standing at the front door, handed him the card that had been mailed to her as her entrance. "Hey. I'm the new girl Michelle. " Once those words left her mouth she knew it was all too real now; She had no friends, she didn't know a single souls here, and all she could look forward to in her spare time was searching for her family. She was all alone, and all she could hope for was to befriend some of the other workers and the djs, maybe a few dealers too.
