Smoking Hipsters
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Summary: Rukia is an anorexic nineteen year old who works at a vinyl record and bookstore in Karakura Town. When the new local band, Smoking Hipsters, is playing at an underground bar, Rukia decides to go. She sees Ichigo there: a hot, Supreme-wearing, guitar-playing, and smoking twenty year old that looks like he just waltzed out of a hipster's Tumblr account. Things soon get very smokey, very fast.
Rating: M (for language, underage drinking, sex, drugs, you name it…)
Written By: Liym Enello
Blog: Link: [ smokinghipsters . blogspot . com ] remove brackets and spaces.
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Rukia lost her grip on the stage, and stumbled forward, totally drunk. The people that were crowding around the front of the stage caught her, and Rukia's drink showered them. Rukia started to laugh, and she felt more carefree than she had in a long time. She looked up at the vocalist, who was smirking at her.
"Well, how was it?" Rukia slurred.
"Not bad, bunny, not bad."
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The berry-headed vocalist looked down at the skinny, pink-haired hipster and smiled. The rest of his band was still playing along to the song, letting the last notes fade out and die in the bar. The girl had stumbled, and fell into the crowd, splashing her drink—what appeared to be some kind of rum, maybe Captain Morgan—all over the mob. They didn't seem to care; they liked her voice, so they liked her. The crowd set the hipster girl back onto her feet, holding her up by her pale arms to make sure she didn't fall.
"So, what's your name?" He smiled down at the girl, who looked up at him. His fingers strummed on his guitar absentmindedly, causing light-hearted and airy notes to penetrate the bar's atmosphere.
"Rukia." The girl slurred, and downed her drink—what was left of it—in one quick drag.
"Huh," the singer said, "I like your voice, Rukia."
"Uh… thanks?" The girl said sarcastically, drunkenly.
He furrowed his orange-hued eyebrows. "Can't take a compliment?"
"No." Rukia said, her face morphing into a scowl. She sets her empty glass on the stage's edge, and puts her hands on her hips. Cocky boy. "I'm not really one for compliments."
He laughed, and adjusted the Obey beanie on his head. "Well I, for one, thrive on compliments, unlike you." Was he really saying that? Rukia rolled her eyes.
The boy spoke again. Arrogant. Cocky. Slightly sexy. "Care to say a few nice words about my music?"
Rukia snorted. "No."
"What, you don't like my band?" The boy gestured to the thin pianist and the grunge-looking drummer. The pianist simply nodded to her, and the teal-headed one just smiled, showing his canines in a menacing way, waving his drumsticks at her. Rukia glared at him. She had a funny feeling about that guy. Maybe it was the way his eyes glinted mischievously when he looked at her.
"Your band is okay." Rukia admitted.
"No, you guys are awesome!" Orihime screamed loudly from across the bar, her sixth rainbow jelly shot almost slipping out of the tumbler.
"Shush, Inoue!" Rukia shouted back to her, her cheeks flaming—with either embarrassment or drunkenness, she wasn't sure. "It's not nice to lie to people!"
"Friend of yours?" The vocalist with the strange orange hair nodded towards Orihime, who blushed and averted her gray-hued gaze.
"Yeah, what's left of her." Rukia murmured. "She's usually very innocent. So innocent that it's obnoxious. But when she's drunk—" Rukia shook her head condescendingly and chuckled. "She's like a wild animal."
"I see." He smirked, and the notes he was strumming on his guitar quickened their pace, and followed a melody. The two other band members reacted, and started playing their instruments, the collected noises slowly formed a hypnotizing beat that urged the crowd to dance again. The harmony was erotic—dangerously so—the people in the bar ground their bodies against one another in time to the Smoking Hipsters' beat. It was intoxicating.
Rukia found herself staring at the lead vocalist of the band. He seemed so relaxed on stage, so in control. But when Rukia looked closer, and harder, she could see a rising tension in his dark amber eyes. They were swirling with of secrets. Rukia wondered what they were. And she wanted to figure the boy out. What was his motive?
"I never got your name." Rukia said, looking up at the boy with hooded eyes.
"Ichigo." The boy glanced down at her, before flicking his gaze back to the crowd. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a bar to entertain." He winked at her before he started to sing another song. Ichigo's voice only added to the erotic nature of the song.
Rukia scoffed, annoyed, and turned on her heel. She walked in the opposite direction of the stage. She approached the bar, where Orihime jumped up and gave her a bear hug, practically crushing Rukia with her huge ta-ta's.
"You were amazing, Rukia!" She squealed.
"You think everything's amazing when you're drunk, Orihime." Rukia sighed.
"No, she's right," Urahara butted in their conversation. "You should come in the bar and sing for me sometime."
"Only in your dreams, Urahara."
"Hey, I serve your under-aged ass alcohol, don't I?" Urahara smirked, thinking that he got Rukia trapped in a corner. The girl was actually a very good singer, and he wanted her to play in his semi-famous underground bar.
"Only because I saved your ass a while back, Urahara." Rukia raised an eyebrow and smirked, just daring the bartender to challenge her.
"Fine, fine, fine." Urahara waved both Rukia and Orihime away. "Get back to your homes, girls, you're drunk enough as it is."
"But I was going to order another rainbow jello shotttt!" Orihime slurred while she rested her head on the bar counter, her face flushed from all the alcohol she consumed.
"To bed! Both of you. Freeloaders." Urahara said. He would never admit it, but he was a little pissed off that Rukia didn't want to sing at his bar. "And make sure you call a cab, you'll get run over or something if you do otherwise."
"Whatever, Urahara!" The girls said in unison. Then they both looked at each other and laughed full heartedly.
"Let's just go, Orihime." Rukia mumbled, touching Orihime's arm. The pink-haired girl grabbed her bag, and scooted off of the leather bar stool.
"Yeah, yeah," the other girl slurred. Rukia helped her friend slide out of the bar stool, and they both stumbled away. Rukia threw one last glance at Ichigo, who was just finishing his song. He looked up at her, and their eyes connected for the briefest moments. Rukia threw up a sarcastic peace sign towards the band's lead member as she retreated. Ichigo smiled at that, and watched her slender backside exit the bar.
Then they began a new song, and played until the early hours of the morning.
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Rukia and Orihime had ignored Urahara's supposedly 'shitty advice', according to Rukia, by walking back to Rukia's apartment on foot. In their drunken stupor, it took the girls longer to reach Rukia's abode then necessary, but they arrived without any trouble.
Rukia attempted to unlock the door with her huge set of brass keys for a full five minutes before they managed to open it. The two girls staggered into Rukia's apartment, giggling the entire way.
"You're too drunk to drive, Orihime. You can just crash on my couch." Rukia said in-between a laughing fit.
"Okay!" Orihime chirped, and crashed on Rukia's old floral couch without even washing her face. The already-smudged eye shadow on her lids soiled her face even more, seeming to cover almost half of Orihime's face with the dark makeup. Her red bandana slipped down to cover her eyes as she snored. It was hilarious.
Rukia chuckled, and made her way into her bathroom. She sloppily washed her face and brushed her teeth, without even looking in her mirror, like she usually does. She slipped into bed and was dead to the world for a full ten hours.
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Rukia awoke to a solid color of cream. She jumped back. Her spine connected hard with the backboard of her bed. Rukia hastily felt around her face, wondering why she could only see the water-downed color of yellow. Her fingers touched something smooth, and thin. She yanked it off her face, and Rukia could see again. It was a sticky note. That had been stuck on her forehead and blinded her.
Thanks for the fun night out! That band was H-O-T!
Sorry I couldn't stay long—I'm going to go visit Sora for a few days. Bye!
P.S.—I fed Kon for you!
P.P.S.—What cat doesn't like peanut-butter and avocado beef?
~Orihime
Damn Inoue. Rukia didn't even have any avocadoes. She chuckled and threw the sticky note in a waste bin under her bedside table. Kon jumped up onto her bed and purred hungrily. Rukia ran her hand over his mane absentmindedly. "Poor cat. I promise that I'll never let Inoue torture you with her cooking ever again."
Kon purred with gratitude, and jumped onto Rukia's bedside table, successfully covering her alarm clock with his furry fat ass.
"Get off, you stupid cat." Rukia mumbled sleepily and brushed Kon off of the nightstand.
She looked at the clock—it was eleven-fifty.
"Shit!" Rukia exclaimed, and peeled the quilts off of her bed. She was supposed to work at Karakura Vinyl & Lit in ten minutes. She ran into her shower and washed herself as fast as she could, then put on a cropped American flag t-shirt, her denim jacket, and some dark-wash cutoffs with the tights she wore the night before. She, much to her dismay, didn't have time to put on makeup and rushed out the door, her bag in tow. As she ran down the two flights of stairs to the ground floor of the building, Rukia piled up her long pink hair into a messy bun.
"Great. Fucking fantastic." Rukia said to no one but herself. She unlocked her bike from the bike rack and took off uphill at a dangerous speed, almost running over innocent pedestrians in her path. She arrived at Karakura Vinyl & Lit only three minutes late. There was nobody waiting outside the store, thank god. Rukia breathed a sigh of relief. She unlocked the store with her handy dandy set of brass keys and entered; reveling in the scent of old books and packaged French roast coffee.
Rukia set up the coffee narthex, having four different types of coffee on the burner at once, and two different types of tea. She turned on all the lights, and started to organize the books that had just been shipped in. A few people entered the store, and Rukia greeted them with a soft "Hello" before returning to her work.
Rukia, after about an hour, was officially bored. She drifted back to her usual place—behind the counter, lounging in a chair—after she had emptied the new shipment boxes. Rukia picked up her copy of It's Kind of A Funny Story and started to read where she left off yesterday, only stopping if someone came up to the counter to buy a book or vinyl record.
"Oh, it's you." Came a velvety, yet gruff voice.
Rukia ignored it. Her view was covered by the pages of her book, but she could recognize the voice that tormented her last night. God help her.
"Hey, hipster girl, I have a question."
She rolled her eyes and tried to focus on her novel.
"Rukia."
She scoffed and finally set her book down. "I was at a good part, Ichigo." The girl said, and appraised the young man. He was wearing dark skinnys, and a Jim Morrison t-shirt. The words "The End" were spray painted on it. Ichigo adjusted his Obey beanie on his head. He's also wearing a set of dark red reading glasses, which he pushes up his nose.
"What book are you reading?" He peered over the counter to get a closer look.
"It's Kind of a Funny Story." Rukia said, and rolled her eyes. Ichigo's brows furrowed.
"Why is it a funny story?" He asked, his voice was laced with confusion.
"No, that's the name of the book, brainless." Rukia waved the novel in front of his face mockingly.
"No need to get sassy…" Ichigo smirked, his eyes lighting up with the action as he observed at Rukia. "Is it any good?"
"Look, is there a reason you came here? Because I'm sure that it's not to have a polite conversation with me." Rukia asked, and crossed her arms over her chest.
"Yeah, actually," Ichigo's eyes roamed over Rukia, making her blush and avert her gaze. His eyes suddenly flick up to meet her violet ones. "I wanted to buy this album."
He set Fair to Midland's InterFundaStifle demo album on the counter. It was a pretty good album, full of original beats, incomprehensible lyrics, and vocals that were unlike any other.
"You like Fair to Midland?" Rukia asked Ichigo. "From what you played last night, they don't sound like your kind of genre."
"My band mate Ulquiorra mentioned them to me. I'm buying it for him." Ichigo said, and pushed the album farther up the counter towards Rukia. "I've got places to be, so…" he trailed off. His eyes trained over to the store's exit. He wanted to leave.
"Fine, fine," Rukia said, and checked the book out for Ichigo. "That's fifteen dollars and twenty-three cents."
Ichigo handed her a twenty, and Rukia gave him his change. Their fingers brushed, and Rukia felt a spark bolt up her arm. She retracted her limb away from Ichigo, surprised by the feeling.
"Have a good day." Ichigo said, out of courtesy, although there was a troubled look in his amber eyes.
"You as well." Rukia said, and gave him a sarcastic peace sign.
Ichigo smirked, and waved goodbye as he left the building.
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Around four o'clock, Rukia's stomach started to growl. Her hand flew to her stomach, and she clawed at the skin there, trying to will the noises to cease. She hadn't eaten anything yet today, and she wanted to keep it that way.
"Shut up, shut up." Rukia whispered to her snarling stomach. A few of the customers in the store gave her a wary look. She just smiled at them, and waved innocently. They looked away uncomfortably, and continued to browse through the store. She must seem like a crazy person.
When Rukia's shift ended at five thirty, she had to wait for the next person to come in and guard the store before she could leave. Fan-fucking-tastic.
Rukia lounged around the store, and drank two cups of pure black coffee, before Neliel waltzed into the store around five-forty five.
"You're late." Rukia appraised Nel. Her sea-green hair was in a high pony tail, and her light green cropped t-shirt showed off her toned torso. She wore short cut offs, tights, and a black leather jacket. A brand new purplish-pink tattoo of a ram adorned her neck.
"I'm sorry, Rukia," Nel seemed genuinely sorry. "Something came up—"
"Don't worry about it, Nel." Rukia set her cup of coffee down and clocked out of the door. "Is that a new tattoo?"
"It is." Nel winked at Rukia. "Do you like it?"
"Ha, yeah." Rukia told her, and appraised the purple ram tattoo, confused. "What's the symbolism?"
"There isn't any," Nel rolled her eyes and laughed. "The guy at the tattoo shop was practically giving away tattoos for free. So of course I had to take advantage."
"Is that why you were late?" Rukia gave her an all-knowing look as she gathered up her things and opened the door. Nel could be so spontaneous sometimes.
"Oh shut up, Rukia." Nel said playfully to her co-worker.
"Have fun working the late shift, Neliel." Rukia mumbled to the green-haired girl as she glided out the front door.
"You know I will!" Nel piped up sarcastically and waved goodbye.
Fucking Nel, Rukia thought to herself.
People these days.
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Rukia walked into her apartment, and set her bag down on her floral couch before she sat on it and turned on the television. She surfed aimlessly through the channels, never really finding anything good. Old news. Cooking show. Latino Soap Opera. Rukia sighed. When did her life become so boring?
Her stomach growled again. Rukia's large purple eyes trained over to the kitchen, where her refrigerator lied. She would allow herself one slice of toast. Just a slice. Rukia rose from her place on the couch and walked over to the refrigerator warily. She kept every single item of food in the fridge, even if it didn't need to be cooled. If she had food sitting out on the counter of her kitchen or something, Rukia was afraid that she would be tempted to scarf it down in one bite.
She opened the fridge, and peered inside. The loaf of bread sat on the middle shelf. Eye-level. It taunted her.
Eat me! Eat me!
Rukia shut the fridge door, disgusted with herself.
You're so fat, Rukia. Only fatty's eat. Don't eat.
Rukia shook her head to no one in particular. But she was so hungry.
She opened the refrigerator without a second though and took three huge bites from the loaf of bread before slamming the door back into place. She ran out of the kitchen and sat on her couch, feeling a shiver rack her body as the food glided down her throat. In her mind, she could see her stomach working on the food, digesting it, and storing it just under her skin in huge lumps of fat.
Rukia wanted to throw up.
She ran into the bathroom and puked into the toilet, spasms racking her whole body, until nothing but bile escaped her throat.
The sad thing was, Rukia didn't even know that she had a problem.
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A/N: First of all, I'm extremely sorry for not updating either this story or The Ivory Tower as fast as I said I would/could. I was thinking about lying, saying that I had tons of stuff to do, or that my dog died or something, but that isn't the case. I was just lazy and got distracted by stupid things like YouTube videos of cats and the Sims 3. So for that, I'm really sorry. :/
And yes, the end of this chapter is really depressing. But I'm trying to write realistically, and in detail, of Rukia's problem. Many girls around the world have to deal with anorexia and bulimia every day. I'm just trying the send a message. Hell, I actually don't know what I'm doing.
But review anyway?
I promise that this fic is going to get better, lol.
-L.E.
