Fwoop.

I own nothing you recognize.

Adeline shut the door behind her dejectedly. Although the coffee table was missing and the shattered cabinet full of miscellany had its front smashed in, the place had been cleaned. The cat jumped down from her shoulder and carried himself off into the kitchen.

"The hell happened here?" Brendan's voice held no more interest than it did during the conversation that had started this mess.

"Moray was being a fucking asshole," she answered sharply, pulling her shirt up to show the small square bandage on her belly. There was a small copper stain on it from the time she'd spent hopping around during the round of DDR.

"No surprise there. So, I take it didn't go well?"

"Nope. I broke their stuff and now I have to pay them back." She handed him the slip of paper. He let out a low whistle.

"How are you going to manage this?" He knew the answer. With half a high school education – maybe more by the standards in this country – and no real talents other than musical ones, and those obviously weren't going to get her anywhere, she'd fall back to her old habits. Besides, it did make some damn good money.

"Pray for the best is all I really can do," Adeline admitted, flicking a mini lighter to ignite the end of a black cherry cigarette. The sweet smell sparked a little longing for her new friend. "And I guess I should move somewhere Moray won't find me, 'cuz I don't know what he'll do next."

"Why don't you get yourself some big, muscly boyfriend to keep you safe?" Brendan suggested as they both watched the snowy screen of the no longer functioning television. Finally an excuse to get an upgrade for the stupid thing.

"How would I pay the bills? Usually boyfriends get all uppity if you take your clothes off for an audience. So he wouldn't want me doing it."

"Oh. Yeah. I guess." There was a pause. "What were they like?"

Adeline wrinkled her nose and puffed out a stream of smoke. "Fucking...overrated is what they are."

"You don't sound sure."

"I...I guess...I made a friend of one of them...or something."

"No crushes?"

"Nope." She could truthfully admit that they seemed creepy, at least from what she'd witnessed.

"See, 'cuz I think that's what you've gotta do, Addy. Get a rich boy. Live off him. Be a housewife or something."

"I'd fucking...hate that. I'd rather be a stripper."

"So, you're going to try to get back your job at Alimony Jack's?"

"What else am I supposed to do?"

"Dude, I told you, be a trophy wife! Solve all your problems right there."

Adeline squinted at him. "Sooo not doing that."

"Fine." Brendan played offended. "Who do you keep texting?"

"The dude I made friends with."

He snatched the cell phone away and frowned at the texts. They were mostly comprised of Norse, the conversation flowing much easier without being face to face and without her accent getting in the way. "Dude, why...?"

"Why not?" She stubbed out her cigarette and took her phone back.

"Why don't you be this dude's girlfriend?"

"Will you cut it out? Girlfriends tear bands apart and shit."

"But you're totally and completely awesome, you're just too hard on yourself."

"It's just...simpler?...to be a stripper. So fuck this shit, I'm going to be a stripper."

"If you insist."