She pulled the blanket up over her head with an exasperated sigh. "Why can't I get him out of my system! Why is he even in my system!"
She felt like pounding the bed with her fists while kicking and screaming. The image made her laugh. Instead, she got out of bed and dressed. Her baggy black pants hung low on her hips and the red skin tight T-shirt stopped just above her navel. She ran her fingers through her hair, effectively making it spike into the usual appearance of a halo of flame around her head. Seconds later, her leather bracelets and two-inch thick leather choker, all covered in small circular silver studs, were in place.
Before she pulled on her boots she dumped out the white envelope. After puling on the boots she slipped the contents out of the envelope quickly counting the green bills.
Damn piece of shit pawnshop owners that don't know the first thing about actually jewelry. She hadn't even gotten a fourth of the price of the necklace. Not that that really matters, seeing as I stole it, but still… at least half wholesale would have been nice. She grabbed her keys off the dresser by the door as she left, locking the door behind her.
Now that she was up, Yalana knew there was no getting back to sleep, so she went for a walk. Even at two in the morning, New Orleans was full of life. Some people said that "once the sun goes down, the natives come out." It was a kind of running joke. She smiled slightly as she strolled down the road, returning the greetings of the people she knew, anyone from Homeless Dan on the corner to the stunning Jazel who sat on a swing in an upper floor window enticing customers to view the "shows" inside. Yalana smiled, despite the fact she lived on "Lewd Lane" every one that was there regularly had learned in the past several years that she wasn't for sale, and newcomers learned quickly. Sometimes Yalana thought about moving away from all the brothels and adult stores, but then she remembered that anywhere else questions would be asked about her and how she got her money and she laughed at her own foolishness.
She put her hands in her pickets as she watched a pair of jugglers and found a folded, forgotten piece of paper. A single sentence was written in an unfamiliar scrawl: Warehouse on the corner of Bourbon and Conti at 11 p.m. It took a minute for her to remember where the paper cam from. She smirked as she remembered the boy with short, spiked red hair that had flirted with her non-stop the other day and given her the address and time of the party. If she knew this city half as well as she though she did, then the party was still going strong. Yalana found the warehouse easily—the music was audible from three blocks away.
The slamming of the heavy metal door was drowned out by the pounding music and she laughed, loving the crowd of people she knew wouldn't try to get too close.
"Yo' a bi' la'e don' yo' t'ink?" She turned to see the boy who had given her the paper in the first place. His smile showed even white teeth and she saw a golden stud glinting from his earlobe. His black pants were loose and slightly baggy, with a muscle shirt to match. His blue eyes sparkled with mischief, and she was sure girls practically threw themselves at him. Well, she wouldn't be one of them.
She shrugged. "Figured I might as well check it out." Her voice was bland the picture of near boredom. It only made his smile broader.
"'ave fun, non?" he laughed as she rolled her eyes before he faded into the crowd.