Her eyes squeeze shut tight as she pinches the bridge of her nose to keep more blood from pouring down her face. Just a few days ago she told Nolan Ross that destruction was in her DNA and tonight is just another example of that. She feels like she was thrust with a mission by some greater power but that greater power is her father. She feels she must take on his burdens and avenge him, but she knows how much trouble it is going to get her into, how much work. She knows she can't do it alone but time and time again she will convince herself otherwise.
A few days into 2003 and she's already back to her old haunts, blowing money on vodka and cheap tequila shots, at least until she figures out her next step. There are so many names and hints in her father's journals that she doesn't know where to start.
Nolan won't stop trying to contact her and she is just as persistent as he is when it comes to blocking his number. If she's going to do this right then she can have no connections from her life before, at least not yet.
Out on the dance floor she was elbowed in the face and she recalls what it feels like to be a victim again.
Ever since she got out of Allenwood about eight months ago it's all about not being the victim. It's been all about control but now she's on the short end of the stick and she feels her system is blurred.
Everything around her spins and the music's overpowering beats shake the club. They make her body feel as if she is vibrating and that vibrating sensation makes her think of the beds in motel rooms where you put in a quarter and you get a hell of a ride.
She feels like she too is electric and is powering the entire club with her rage. The walls and high arched ceilings bloom with color as the lights flash and change faster with the blink of an eye.
She doesn't know what she's going to do yet, not a clue. All Amanda Clarke knows is that someone has to pay.
Amanda beelines it to the bathroom and stands over the sink before folding a cardboard colored paper towel and pressing it to her nose, she watches the white porcelain catch her blood. Looking at herself in the mirror she feels the sudden need to smash it into a million pieces with her fists. She knows she won't mind the pain because all she really wants is to feel something, to feel anything at all.
She's felt entirely numb since her father's passing because when you are told one thing and then you learn it's the entire opposite, when you are thrown for the biggest loop of your life, it is unsettling.
Cleaning herself up, Amanda takes a breath before gaining composure. The old Amanda from 2002 just days ago would have found the culprit and beat him to a bloody pulp even for making a mistake but this new Amanda knows she can no longer be so reckless.
Walking through the club already feels nostalgic like a memory, but it's a familiar face that brings her back to reality.
Nolan Ross was staying at home, preparing for what he thought would be a perfect storm, his long practical fingers checking the alkaline batteries and loading up flashlights but the idea of Amanda Clarke out there without guidance was just too much for him to handle.
Bumping into her he watches her slight smile change to a scowl. It's a quick transition and she transforms into a banshee within seconds, practically tearing his arm off as she leads him into the back alley, dumpsters and empty beer bottles in sight.
"What the hell are you doing here?" she asks as she pushes him against the wall, using the collar of his brown leather jacket as a gripping point. He looks slightly disheveled as if he hasn't slept in days and she's right there with him, her eyes lined with black.
"Checking up on you since you called me in hysterics and then hung up the phone the other night…"
"How did you know I'd be here?" she wonders as she keeps his back pressed flat against the brick.
"Heh, lucky guess…" he replies but it only makes her press harder, her knee jutting into his rib cage. He's not wearing enough layers to mask the pain.
"Try again," she barks like a rabid dog, a certain seething hatred in her glare. She doesn't hate Nolan but she does hate being followed.
"I know you don't give up easily, you're stubborn so I figured you'd come back to the club that kicked you out and see if you can get back in…and I was right," he murmurs, pleased with himself for the time being.
"Well aren't you special," she murmurs before gripping his face, her fingers leaving indents in his dimpled cheeks the way she touches him.
He tries to fight it but then gives in; little does he know that this is his entire life laid for him, right here right now.
"Why did you come back for me?" she barks with madness dribbling over her tongue.
"To help you…" he whimpers, his words sounding muffled from his face being squished like a grape under a heel.
"No one is that gracious. People are selfish, they look out for themselves…" she says as she places her hand at the seat of his pants, cupping all that he is.
He fights her and tries to speak but she doesn't give him that chance.
She knows what boys are like; at least she thinks she does. She thinks all men are the same but Nolan Ross wants to prove he's different.
"Is this what you came back for?" she wonders as she hisses, her jaw clenching and her eyes twitching from the stress.
He feels his cock twitch in his pants as she moves her hand against his bulge. He bites his lip, mostly afraid of what she's got in store for him. He tries to read her but he can't see through her for the wall she's put in front of her is too high.
"This is dangerous…" he murmurs as he looks down at her, thinking of David Clarke's wishes, this not being one of them.
"No kidding…I could get cum all over my new shirt…" she growls as she looks at him. She's laughing at his expense and he doesn't like it one bit.
"This is serious Amanda…no ha ha matter…." he says as he recoils from her, turning away from the young girl.
"My whole life is a joke Nolan…you can't expect me to just open my heart to you and let you play Yoda. I've got to live my own life and I just don't think you can stomach what I have in store for it,"
"You don't know what I can stomach, what I can handle… What I have handled…" he says as he licks his lips, finding them dry in the cool winter weather, snow clinging to the ground and sticking.
"Fill me in," she states as she takes out a cigarette from her shoulder bag that's thin like a wallet with strings. She doesn't ever carry much with her, only cigarettes, a lighter, a 100 dollar bill and a metro card to ride the subway if she ever feels the need.
Before he can fill her in on anything a little white baggie falls out of her miniscule pocket book. He eyes it on the alley's ground and she prays the snow covers it like it never even existed. He bends down to pick it up but she crushes his digits with the heel of her fashionable combat styled boot. It's not enough to hurt him but just enough to shake him up a bit.
He already is.
"Guess you're going to try and tell me you're holding this for a friend?" he asks as he peers up at her.
She sets her eyes on the dime bag instead of his frowning face. He looks disappointed, like she's less than David made her out to be.
"It's mine," she states as she releases him again, making him palm it in her hands. She puts it into the back pocket of her jeans before she walks away from him but he follows her, leaving a trail of footsteps in the snow behind him.
"Your father wouldn't like to see you like this Amanda, he was never a big fan of the whole downwards spiral…" he reveals as he wears his heart on his sleeve.
Turning to him she sneers, a scowl at her brow, appearing at different points in her face. She reminds him of David a lot actually, they're both stubborn. He practically had to beg the man to feed into his company.
He doesn't realize now but he's going to be doing a lot of begging and pleading when it comes to following Amanda around.
He doesn't know what the future holds.
"Well it's a good thing then that he doesn't have to…" she says as she walks towards the nearest subway station, admiring fresh graffiti on the walls surrounding her.
Her mother enjoyed drawing from what little she can remember of her, she never took to it but she hopes to in the future to try to feel a connection to what she's lost.
And she's lost so much.
"Where are you going Amanda?" Nolan asks thinking of how they spent their evening together the other night. He doesn't want to see her fade away, he wants to see her stronger than ever, strong with a vengeance to paint.
"Home," she murmurs as she kicks a few stray pebbles on the sidewalk that have yet to be covered by a blanket of snow as they remain in the shadows like her.
"Where's home?" he asks as she almost cuts him off, loving to be sarcastic whenever possible. It's something that both fades away with time and turns into more subtext if anything.
"Where the heart is," she quips, smirking at her own cruel comeback, not giving a shit about what anyone thinks but her tonight.
This is a goodbye to Amanda Clarke and a hello to the new girl who she has yet to create. She feels like Dr. Frankenstein as she thinks up an alias for herself only she isn't sure if she's the monster or this new persona will be.
Time will tell.
He follows her the whole way home through crowded subway stations, dark alleys, swarms of people, tourists and a string of rats that preside in the neighborhood she inhabits. He wonders why she has chosen such a slummy place to live when she can live off the money from his company but then it hits him, she's trying to live low key, in a world where no one will find her or look for her.
Well he's found her and he isn't going anywhere, at least not tonight.