The American Drag
By Kitty
Soundtrack:
Kill Hannah – Lips like morphine
Dem franchise boys & Korn – Coming undone with it
Prologue/Chapter One
Trixie leaned against the brick wall and smirked haphazardly to herself. "Boy, if you go Rapunzel on me Ima go Rumplestilzkin on you."
"You'll give me a glass slipper?"
She blew up on dregs of bright black kink, she so proudly called her hair, freshly escaped from twin tails. "Foolish …" she shook her head hopelessly torn. She could feel the renegade tears rolling down her dark brown cheeks.
"Cuz I gotta tell you, I'm more of a Chuck man myself." He shuffled over the window sill onto the fire escape, he throw down his satchel, and dropped several spring ladders to get to where she was.
He offered a huge smile and watched her dark brown eyes with his own. "Come on now, don't cry Mama Trixie, just donate them to Salvation Army."
Trixie took a deep breath and punched him in the shoulder, "Jake's late; I guess there was a Dragon issue in the Village."
Earnest humbled them like the fall out of Hiroshima. "It's alright; he's like a superhero or something. He could tell someone."
The girl's heart went in knots.
"I'm gonna miss you, Trixie, thanks for everything. You're my best friend … I could never afford Krispy Kreme by myself."
She punched him again.
"But really." Spud squirmed in his sweats, "I want you to know that with every shenanigan I've gotten one shenanigan wiser." He retrieved his hands from his pockets and encased her trembling fists. "Wise enough to know what I feel is not the result of a rebellious donut, not what I feel for you, Trixie, I—"
Then the sirens started screaming and a dozen cop cars pulled onto that particular patch of Manhattan sidewalk.
The red alternating blue transformed the expression on his face into pure shock, he glanced at Trixie and her guilt-stricken eyes gave him every answer he wanted and didn't want to hear.
Six seconds of shock and Spud was running. Unfortunately, that was about five seconds more than the cops and Jake Long need to depart from the multiple drivers' and shotguns'.
Within a moment there was practically a rough cop hand or similar safety device for every square inch of Spud. Like a choreographed dance sequence they had brought Spud and his rebellious ass to the concrete. Like the rap battle pro-antiestablishment he was yelling every profane thing ten years of public school and fifteen years of the Yorker lifestyle had taught him.
"Spud!" Trixie cried.
Jake wrapped his arms around her and for once she let herself be the damsel in distress. Trixie glanced up into his solemn almond eyes and his slight lips usually so prepared with a smart smirk and fell into his practiced hero embrace. "They're gonna help him. Yo, you did the right thing."