The wind howled. To the newcomers of the city, Florida's near unbearable wind was taxing. But to the born and raised Floridians It was no big discouragement. It just meant that people would be a little more cranky. It in no way interfered with one's work and as such leads us here.
The Roaring Draco{1}was as shady as it's customers and was no place for a young woman. Well in truth it was no place for any one. The awe struck customers seemed to not mind the half dressed women dancing on the elevated platform.
The heels so high one could wonder how they could even stand with out falling much lass dancing. But enough of that, the woman of the hour wasn't one of these women but another. A woman wanting to help her mother. But while her white shirt and blue jeans were making her figure shown it only made the drunken workers happy.
The group all clothed in white shirts and orange construction pants cheered This woman on.
"Hey beautiful" the brunette called out. He had already consumed 3 beers and it seemed that he kept going to get her number. Said 'beautiful' sighed. Charlie O'Connell delivered the martini to the woman and slowly walked back to the table where the man sat. Her light blue eyes were dull and her choppy shoulder length blond hair seemed to be bed hair. Though as it seemed she did not care nor bother to fix it.
"Yes" she said as the man smirked.
"I need more beer beautiful" She narrowed her eyes silently wishing looks could kill.
"I'm sorry sir but I just gave you one not ten minuets ago" The man gave a quick glance to his glass before dumping the amber liquid out onto her tray. Glaring at the offending liquid she grabbed his glass. Her fingers met his for a brief moment as he let go of the handle. Smirking he pet her hand. Quickly she grabbed the glass.
"I'll be right back with a refill sir" she said. Turning around she clenched her fist as a wondering hand decided to take undo liberties.
'Don't punch him don't punch hm don't punch him-' she kept repeating in her mind. If she punched him he would complain and the club can't have a violent employe. And as such she would he terminated.
Grimacing she dreaded going back to that table and began sheathing at the third of many eventual trips that night.
TWO HOURS LATER
Charlie slipped back behind the stage and walked through the crowed of scantily clad women and to the one sitting in front of a large vanity decorated with small lights. Make up was spread out on the surface and a pale hand was brushing long black hair. Amber eyes watched her in the mirror as she got closer and the face smiled as Charlie took the brush out of the hand and stared grooming the silky tresses.
A hand reached up and caressed her cheek as a aged yet youthful voice spoke softly.
"How is my beautiful angel doing tonight?"
Charlie smiled and pushed into the hand.
"Fine momma" she echoed. Those amber eyes looked sad as they gazed at their only child. The sound of the brush was the only sound for what felt like forever.
"Now now angel, don't lie. It's bad for your health" Charlie seemed to stop moving.
"I hate this job, I hate this place, I hate this life!" She suddenly cried. Her mother almost cried at seeing such a sad look in her child's face.
"I know angel. But be need the money" Charlie let a tear fall and bowed her head to the floor.
"I know. But when will it change? I wish we weren't stuck like this" Her mother smiled and stood up. Turning on her heels she pressed her forehead against her daughter's.
"I know my dear angel child. I know. But it will get better. Just you wait and see" Charlie snorted in disbelief.
"But when?" She pressed. Her mom just gazed into her eyes.
"I don't know baby. I don't know" Charlie just snorted.
A sixteen year old boy slept peacefully at his desk. His Shaggy Silver hair hung just past his ears. His sunglasses were in the verge of falling off his head and his tinfoil ring glinted in the light reflecting onto the classroom wall. Th e classroom it's self was small. The wall opposite the door was all windows allowing for light to flood in. the light was the only solace to the boring repetitious monotone voice of Mr. Greensboro. This man was one of a kind, being able to recite six hours of facts one one small comment or thought.
The boy had woken up just in time to hear that there would be a test on what they just learned. He grimaced. His shoulder was throbbing. Rubbing it and looking at the cause he was meet with the face of his friend. Her out fit consisted of a long sleeved shirt white pants that cut off at the calf and rainbow sneakers. Her hair was a perfect chocolate brown and her wide doe black eyes gave her the impression of seeing into your very soul. He wasn't affected though. Savira was just Savira.
The two friends walked down the hall slowly then gained speed as the dodged spitballs and flying air planes.
Charlie pulled a picture of a wolf out of his pocket and stared longingly at it. Savira grew annoyed and snapped.
"What is with your obsession with wolf's?" she asked violently. Charlie just shrugged.
"I can't help it they are just amazing. They can live up to thirty years while a dog at best can live to sixteen"
"You keep saying that-" her sentence was cut short as Charlie rambled off more facts.
"And they bigger and stronger than dogs. That and they hunt in packs. They have more wisdom and use more tactics-"
"CHARLIE I don't care!" she yelled. Charlie seemed unaffected by the volume of her voice only stopping when Savira bumped into a passerby and in the process knocked the papers out of her hands. The tan hands started picking up the papers as calm green eyes and waist length black hair floated around. Seeing and touching everything. Charlie bet down to help while Savira seemed to get annoyed.
When the girl had her paper's and had proceeded back down the hallway Savira hit Charlies arm in anger. He yelp and grabbed it glaring at her.
"What was that for?!" She just glared at him.
"You know why!" She yelled. Charlie just shook his head confused. Girls were so weird.
A collaboration with 4fireking. he gives me the plot and the chapter and i re-wrote it in my own words and style.