Author's note: Hey Hotaru, the link doesn't work, I have not the pleasure of seeing Vicious. Frenchy: Why the name?
Chapter 5: "Myself"
Sunlight pierced through the orange lined apartment as the morning broke free. Below, street vendors were already busy with their wares, with strikingly bright colors from apples to salmons that distinguished themselves from the dark, wet asphalt street. A wind chime sang as short gales caressed it with their wails. Nichole let the sound of the bells linger as warm water trickled down her body. The bathroom wasn't something she was proud of, the whole apartment was something she wasn't proud of, but she was content. A rail that had the shower curtain was bent and a bit rusted, with water traveling across its silver spine and dripping at the end of the equally unimpressive porcelain bathtub. The tiles were lined with grime and the such, but nothing that would repulse anyone. No mirror was in the small square room. Nichole turned the shower off and stepped out, taking a white bathrobe from a hanger and putting it on. "Good morning." Greeted a middle-aged woman who wore a white blouse. She had shoulder length hair and brown skin. "Hey mommy, the hill on the back of ate Nichole's neck is getting bigger!" claimed a little 9 year old girl who closely resembled Nichole. "Shut up Christie." Rebutted the elder sister.
"Hey mom." She greeted after giving her sister a sharp look.
"Ready for school honey?" asked a man in a white uniform and tie, with a newspaper in one hand and a coffee mug in the other. "Yep."
"Lunch money is on top of the…"
"Coffee table. Got it. Thanks." Nichole folded the five-dollar bill and went to her room, where she stripped off her bathrobe and put on a long sleeved red shirt as well as a phage skirt. Her room was small, with one bed that filled its entire length, while a desk and a mirror stood opposite it. She fixed her hair without sitting down, and quickly put on her red sandals. After looking at the mirror, she grabbed her backpack and headed out, kissing her parents before she left the door.
Ben pulled on a green sleeveless shirt and dark blue jeans. His room was a mess, with a desk beside a square window that pulled in the scents from the wet pavement from last night's rain. The bed was unmade, with its sheets sliding to the floor, which itself was tossed about with paper and plastic. He already had the money left to him in his wallet, with a note saying that his father won't be back in four days because of a spiritual retreat he needed to attend. A wooden crucifix hung beside his door, a small lifeless symbol that he always clung to as a sign of hope. It was a stupid idea, to respect a piece of wood shaped to a fancy intersection, he knew that, but he was brought up under the fear of the Unseen. He would doubt the essence of hybrodization yet never doubt the Existence of this Higher Being. The young man asked God to keep him and the people he loves safe, and then he proceeded to leave, locking every window and door.
Last night passed by like the moon's lunar orbit for Carlos. He stopped over at Bryan's apartment for the evening, and was lent a green polo shirt that had breast pockets on both sides. The sleeves ended a good few inches before his elbows, and it was already a bit faded. Bryan walked by his side, wearing a red shirt and khakis pants. Both of them were still feeling the sting from last night's fisticuff, but neither of them let it show. "Hey man, I'm headed for the canteen, I'm going to meet someone there." Announced Bryan as they entered the lobby. Carlos just nodded and waved, then left for his first period Literature class. He trudged up a staircase, meeting plenty of faces as he did, some he knew, most he had no clue of. Nichole passed went down the stairway, and met the young man's gaze as he kept going up. Their eyes locked, as if there was some sort of intrinsic understanding between them both. No words were uttered as they passed each other. Nichole was lost in the river of youth as she made her way to the canteen where Ben was.
"What is this worth?" Carlos asked himself as he stopped on the platform between the two floors, where a jalousie overlooking the poverty struck neighborhood poured in the rich sunlight. "I'm just going to live and die like everyone else here, not a difference in this world…just a damn statistic. I won't save any life, I won't go head to head against some apocalyptic force or shit…I'm just me. Just another person in a world full of people." He ran his palm through his dry hair and returned his way.
"Look Ben…aren't those the guys from the shelter last night?" Nichole asked, pointing at a table with her eyes.
The canteen was a rectangular room, with the counter at front, the main doors opposite it. Twenty rectangular steel tables lined the room opposite each other, ten at each side. A second floor that was more like a platform along the three walls held some circular tables. Ben and Nichole sat on the platform, with the girl peering down at the group of young men below them who were sitting by the far left wall. "Looks like the Betas are at it again." Ben heard a girl whisper her to her friend at another table. "People never learn, do they?" Nichole asked herself and shook her head.
"That's a part of life." Ben commented, looking at the group as well.
"What, stubbornness?"
"No, stupidity. People can't live without it."
"Oh really?" Nichole asked with a giggle.
"Yeah. They're stupid if they plan to get into another brawl when they look like a ten year old kid could punch a hole through them… and I'm pretty stupid for not telling you how gorgeous you look today." He gave her a smile that she swore melted her heart.
"Lame!" she joked while throwing a crumpled tissue at him.
"Hey, you can't blame me for trying! And besides, its true you know." He defended, putting the crumpled tissue aside. Nichole smiled at him and stuck out her tongue.
"Stop that!"
"Stop what?" she asked, whilst still holding out her tongue.
"Being so cute."
"…Your very breath exudes lameness!" she took another tissue paper, crumpled it, and threw it at Ben who was beginning to laugh out loud. "You're blushing!"
"I am so not!"
"Cute or blushing?"
"Shut up! Flirt."
"I am not a flirt!"
"You just happen to have no sentence that would possibly not be a pre-requisite to a pick up line."
"Well…"
"Flirt." She took another piece of tissue paper but stopped, just as Ben was raising his arms to defend himself. Three betas climbed up the staircase, with their eyes fixed on Nichole and Ben. "Those are the people we Ben helped in the shelter…" thought the girl as they stood beside the table, all with serious expressions on their faces. "Yo guys, we just wanted to thank you for the assist last night." Came the man's weary voice. The blonde boy was nowhere to be seen.
"Anyone would've done the same." Modestly replied Ben.
"Yeah, well it was cool you did that." said the African American in a blue jacket over a green shirt.
"Hey dude, can we…talk for awhile? Somewhere private?" asked a brown haired man wearing a loose red shirt. He wasn't there last night, but he had bruises on his arm and a cut on his cheek as well. Nichole shot Ben a nervous look, but the young man remained calm.
"What about?" he asked.
"If it has anything to do about your fraternity, then don't bother." Came a stern comment from Nichole.
"It looks like you've already read our minds." Muttered the brown haired man.
"You do know that the shelter you work in is directed by one of us, right?" the African American boy asked Ben. "Jessica? No shit."
"We've always been using that shelter if anyone of us 'not able to pay the hospital bill types' got a good gash."
"That shelter is official Beta property man."
"And what, you're going to pull some Gestapo crap on me?" Ben asked, raising his voice a bit.
"No man, just telling you that we're the right side, that's all." Quickly responded the African American. With that, the Betas bade farewell and went off.
It was afternoon when Lily found herself walking alone, with both arms clutching the opposite shoulder as if she was but a frail child. In a sense, she was. Paul was taking a Christian seminar, and he was the only one she could ever talk to. He won't be done until about another hour. She placed a hand gently over her abdomen, feeling the bruise that was left by the boot last night. "I wonder what he's doing right now? Could he be thinking of me? About last night? Does he hate me now?" she asked herself, not giving room for any answer, just a bombardment of questions dealt by her insecurity. She knew that she needed someone, someone to touch and to hold. At the same time, she also knew that she had to push everyone away, to be able to tone herself mentally and physically without the burden of emotional attachments running her down. On the other end of the block, she could see a woman happily buying her child a cone of ice cream, as if all there was in the world was seeing the little boy smile. Smile. Something she has forgotten to do for ages now. Something, she thought, she didn't even deserve to do.
"Hey! Those kids stole my purse!" shrieked an elderly woman on the other street, her voice, consequently muffled by the sounds of everything else. Lily turned to look, she could help her, she could stop them, but what would that accomplish? Words of gratitude? A dollar for your help? Saving her now would just mean getting her in line for the next time. "What the hell." Lily gave chase, unmindful of the relatively few, but careless cars that passed. Her brown trench coat blew in the wind, making her look like some sort of fictional superhero as she ran. A middle-aged man passed in front of her, muttering something about his wife cheating on him.
Lily pushed forward, and her right elbow forcefully met one of the two boys' left cheek, causing him to fall with a loud cry. He was about fourteen years of age. His brother, wearing a green jacket with a matching bonnet, turned to see the boy hit the ground hard. Lily quickly introduced her boot to the elder boy's face to incapacitate him from doing any harm. The old woman ran up and immediately grabbed her purse from the downed boy, while two police officers took care of the kids. There were no kind words of appreciation, no dollar for your help. Almost as fast as it got stolen from her, the elderly lady scurried off. The policemen, apprehending the juveniles, did so as well. Lily twisted her neck left and then right, to hear her bones crack. She then tucked her hands into her warm trench coat and once again began to walk.
It was inside a room in one of the better apartment complexes in town that Carlos began to put his clothes back on, after an overweight man still in his underwear gave him his payment. He would've vomited, but not there. There was a decent view of the children's park, as well as an old Church. The man gave him a wink as he left the front door, feeling the cash that he just spent an hellish two hours for. He left the apartment, still trying to ignore the man's smell that kept on lingering. A few more moments, he found himself hunched over the sidewalk, vomiting loudly. There were people who passed him by, some glancing and thinking what his problem was, others jumping to conclusions that he was a drunkard. He wore a white shirt and black denim pants. A car passed by, splashing water to his face and shirt, causing him to yell out profanity in disbelief. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and trudged on the unlit streets. The icy wind stung against his moist skin as he entered an empty alley, to his left was the garage of a building where trucks parked; while to his right was the graffiti marked brick walls of an apartment.
The sound of an aluminum can rolling made Carlos turn to face the direction that he previously came from. An empty can of Umbrella Cola rolled to his feet. "Beta…" came an intimidating hiss from a Black man who wore a white bonnet and a jacket of the same color. Three more men came from all directions, all wearing the same attire but with different colors and designs, all dark thanks to the gloomy night. Carlos was surrounded. "Hey bitch, we ain't through yet." Taunted a white boy, about 17 of years.
"What the hell do you freaks want?" Carlos asked, masking his nervousness.
"We want you on the ground dead!" cried a young man who came from behind Carlos and punched him at the back of his neck. The rest followed, beating on the young man with fists and feet. Blow by blow, Carlos gritted his teeth, gasping out loud with each kick and grunting with each punch, but he did not scream. He did not want to give them the pleasure of seeing him scream. Blow by blow he hid the pain, until the men left, with him laying motionless, half awake, and indeed half dead.
Author's note: That took an eternity to take out, pretty short, and pretty transitive, but more Carlos and Nichole and action to come soon. I'm pretty sure you guys know where I'm headed with the main people. Sorry it took so long, and I hoped you like it!