A/N: Yes, I know, how odd of me to post something that isn't smutty. But this idea hit me and wouldn't let go, and technically still deserves a mature rating. So it's going here, and I would absolutely love to hear what people think of it. The chapters will all be fairly short, but that's for a reason. I'm using it both to set the tone, and to allow for quicker updates.
So, please, tell me what you think of it!
The last rays of the sun were shining down, turning the grungy street a shade of deep red. The fading light bounced off of broken glass, mostly from beer bottles, some from busted head-lights, and almost set the side-walk aflame. Almost made it pretty, if only because it took one's eye away from the heaps of garbage and half-ripped open trash bags.
It didn't hide the smell though, which was sour and putrid, like rotted meat and heat-filled vomit. Was enough to make most new comers retch and turn away - but Todd wasn't a new comer and he couldn't leave. Not now, in prime business hours.
He stood near the street corner, back pressed against a rusted lamp. It didn't work any more, with the bulb cracked and small pieces of glass scattered on the cement walkway. It pressed up into the thin soles of Todd's shoes; the same red converse sneakers that he'd worn when he was fifteen. The only thing about him that was the same, the only thing he hadn't found a reason to replace or destroy or hide from the world at large.
His tawny hair was pulled back into its customary ponytail, which went down to his shoulder and helped to hide the streaks of grease from passers-by. The shirt he wore, which was too long but also a good size too small, rubbed at his skin whenever he moved, scraping away at crusted over scabs and cuts as he nodded at a busty blonde passing by.
Starla offered him a nod in return, but didn't change her path. Her low-cut shirt revealed all and his skirt was more like a pair of briefs than anything else. But who cared about desency back here? That wasn't what got you money.
Appeal was.
Maybe that was why Todd's collar bones stuck out from his wide-neck collar, pressing uncomfortable tight against his paper-thin skin. Or why his stomach had long ago ceased to hurt from hunger, and he now felt nothing but a twitch every now and then as it struggled to liquify and devour itself.
Because he had no appeal. Not to most customers, anyway. Only the most desperate would take him - and he hoped that the car sliding up to the edge of the sidewalk a few feet away, which was a cherry red and so clean that it shined in the light of the fading sun, like nothing that Todd had ever owned or dreamt of owning, would maybe carry someone just desperate enough to offer some money in exchange for his body.
When Todd drew himself up, forcing his spine into the straight posture of a normal human and ignoring the twinge of pain it brought, he sent a pointed glance down, first the left side of the street, then the right. A few of the other girls frowned at him and flipped their hair, but they knew that they would get twice the amount of business if he wasn't around. So they let him walk towards the now parked car; shoulders back in a manner that said he knew what he was doing, eyes half-lidded and mouth drawn into a crooked smile.
Whoever was in the passenger side rolled down the window, and for a brief moment Todd felt panic brew in his chest. Groups were never fun for him, and were rarely safe. They paid well though, and the mutant boy forced himself to keep that in mind as he sauntered over, snug jeans flush against the skin of his legs, kept up only by his protruding hipbones.
Vaguely, he noted that whoever was driving the car must not have been from around here. Locals knew better than to just roll their window down all the way. Not until they made sure it was a hooker coming up to them, and not some crazy ass freak with a gun.
Still, the young man used the action to his advantage. Bending down (and, God, it felt nice to let his spine curve), he draped both arms onto the edge of the window, hands dangling inside of the car. The sleeves of his dark red shirt fell past his knuckles, letting only his long, thin fingers show.
"You need somethin', hot stuff?" he drawled, and his eyes stayed mostly closed, even as he took in the cars passengers.