Chapter 5: Stop One
Char's P.O.V.
I walk back towards the bar and Andy rushes towards me from her post.
"So, what he say?" she asks.
"He said 'no'. Said it'd be 'indecent'." I say.
Andy and I were conversing amongst ourselves for a few minutes when we were approached by a dancer at the club. Even through all of the tobacco smoke, I could see her unhealthily thin, pale physique and her sunken face. She rudely stepped between us and faced Andy.
"Yo, Andy..." she sniffs violently like she's trying to circulate the filthy air into her brain. "Fix me a Schnapps with some Pepsi in it..." she requests.
"Oh HELL NO! If anything, you need fucking rehab now get the hell on!" Andy shoves her from out her face. "I don't know why boss man still got your crackheaded ass in here!" she seethes as the junkie is retreating.
"What the--- who was---" I inquire about the skeleton she pushed.
"Oh girl, that's just Sinus." she waves her hand in a "don't worry about it" gesture.
"Sinus?"
"Yeah, well her name used to be Sohpie but ever since she got introduced to that powder, her career's gone downhill. She's been sniffin so much crack it fucked up her nose for good so now we call her 'Sinus'."
"Oh..." I say, giggling to myself at the clever nickname for the dancer. "Well, Mr. Vercetti also told me to tell you to take me to...Ocean Heights?"
"Sure child, no problem."
We exit the club, hop on the mangled Faggio and scoot off into the night.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
About 30 seconds later (with OH being litterally right around the corner), we're at the door of this grand fuschia lit hotel.
"Here we are child, now go get some real sleep. You've had a long weekend." I hop off the bike and when I'm halfway up those stairs I can hear her laughing to herself.
"What?" I ask
"It's just funny how Boss Man's taking in a refugee. There's gonna be some changes around here, I can sense it." she laughs some more and drives off.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I walk up that long long flight of stairs and finally manage to find my room. I think could tell this was the one Mr. V wanted me to stay in because the door was slightly ajar. Inside there was a small bed, a lamp, a television, a table, a couch, some posters and a few other furniture pieces. Not bad. On the wall however, there were some posters of some girl named "Candy Suxxx".
But then there was this one poster that kept my attention for a good five minutes. It looked as if to be a panel straight from a comic book. Funny thing is, it had a picture of a very handsome man with huge sideburns, a wide set forehead and facial characteristics that gave him a "baby" face. He was wearing a black leather jacket and baggy olive cargo pants. Wonder who he is? I thought.
After gazing at that poster, I flop down on the soft full-sized bed and like magic, I instantly fall asleep amazingly without crying.
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
(10:00 am next morning:)
I awake to a near 1st degree burn on the side of my face from the sun shining on it through open blinds. I roll over onto my back, sit up and stretch my arms. For some reason, the phone rings. Unbeknownst to whoever could be on the other end, I pick it up anyway.
"Vercetti residence?" I say, unsure of who was on the other line.
"Real cute kid." says Mr. Vercetti " Listen, wash up and be outside in five minutes." he says.
"Huh? Why?"
"Are you hungry or what? We can go out to lunch OR you can end up like those Ethiopians with the huge stomachs now get ready, kid." he says then hangs up without saying goodbye.
In less than three minutes, I hear a blaring car horn outside the hotel. I look outside my room's window and indeed, there is Mr. Vercetti...In a very nice car. I quickly run downstairs and gracefully trip down the steps outside the hotel door.
"Smooth move, Exlax." Mr. Vercetti says removing his stylish Carrera sunglasses. "Now get in." he reaches over and unlocks my car door from the inside. Embarrassed, I get up, dust myself off, open the door and step into the pearl white Infernus.
"Nice car, Mr. Vercetti..." I compliment him. "And sharp suit!" I say again looking at his expensive looking black and salmon pinstripe suit.
"Whoa kid, don't call me 'Mr. Vercetti' so much. Makes me feel old. You can call me Tommy." he shifts gears and we're on the move. "And for the record, this car belonged to this cocksucker who betrayed me and almost got me killed. Never trust anyone whose last name is 'Vance'."
"Oh..." We both remain silent as he continues to drive. Taking advantage of my ride in a car that I've only seen in secret agent movies, I run my fingers along the smooth, plastic dashboard and touch the soft leather seats, applying pressure in my fingers to feel the plushness of it.
"So, whatcha' got a taste for, kid?" he glances over at me.
"Is there a pizza spot or something around here?" I actually had a craving for Chinese Takeout but I didn't want to seem picky to Mr. Vercetti so I figured it to me more courteous to suggest something more common and readily available.
"Y'know what, that just so happens to be a little bit past out first stop." he smirks
"Stop?" I ask.
"Yeah, I have a buddy who so happens to be one hell of a lawyer. He's gonna pull some strings to see what we can do with ya, kid."
"But I thought you weren't gonna help me for another---" I interjected.
"I was bored alright!" he shouts and startles me.
"O-okay..." Tears start to well up in my eyes as I hung my head down looking away from the monstrous side of Mr. Vercetti who had yelled at me.
After five minutes of complete silence...
"I'm sorry, kid. I ain't mean to yell. I'm just so used to being surrounded by pricks that I haven't quite learned to adjust my voice properly..."
"Oh..." I feel better...I guess. The car swerves and stops.
"We're here, kid."
I open the car door, step outside and move my neck in circles. We're outside a brick building with old, bronze letters on it that spell "Rosenberg & Co.".
- - - - - - - - - -
After climbing about 3 short flights of stairs, we're walking down a narrow hallways approaching an office with it's door wide open. Tommy creeps inside first with me following him. Inside the office is the typical. Tall bookcases with tons of books just to fill it, a small worn out couch, a tall, slinky lamp, a window with the blinds wide open and of course, a wide hand carved wooden desk with a roledex, and various knickknacks on it.
Sitting at the desk is a frumpy looking man with strawberry blonde hair wearing wide aviator style eyeglasses and is sporting a hideous purple suit. I think we were interrupting something because he seemed to be sniffing the desk using a straw. Tommy turns back towards the door and slams it on purpose, startling the lawyer and causing him to fall out of his chair.
"AHH! Oh geez, it's just you Tommy! Christ, I got the powder all over the floor!" the man cries
"That should tell ya something ya dumbass...Crockpot lawyers and cocaine don't mix." Tommy says as an effort to excuse his actions.
"Yeah, yeah whatever...But ah..." he steps towards me, fixing his glasses. "Who's the model cutie you brought with ya?" he runs his fingers through his hair and looks me up and down. Feeling a tad uncomforatble, I ease back behind Tommy then take a little interest to the nearest bookshelf.
"Hey, watch it. This is the kid." Tommy points his finger in the other man's face.
"What! You have a kid? Who's the unlucky gal?" he gently elbows Tommy and chuckles a bit which is followed by a backhand to the head from Tommy.
"You idiot! This is THE kid!" he shouts. I turn around then quickly resume to looking at the titles of the various books in the office.
"Oh...OHHHHH yeah, the kid, the kid...Damn, you're tall!" he exclaims "How's the weather up there heh heh heh!"
We both give him a hard, annoyed stare at his failed attempt to make a decent pun.
"Ahem..." he clears his throat "Well, I've found a little something for her." he takes a manilla folder from his desk and holds up a paper from the folder. "There is a foster home located in Little Haiti, believe it or not."
I gasp softly and cringe at the sound of "foster home".
"I'll go with not. She ain't goin in no foster home Ken! Let alone Little Haiti." I sigh in relief.
"Well, I don't know what to tell ya, Tom. I mean, what do YOU plan to do? Keep her? Heh, you can't take care of yourself let alone some...kid!" says Ken.
"I could too!" Tommy interjects raising his voice again.
"Oh really?" Ken says sarcastically.
"Yeah, you know what...I've actually had a lot of time on my hands right now so I guess I will take this kid under my wing for a while."
"Well, it's your funeral kid. He's a maniac." Ken says to me.
"Meanwhile, you get Kent and some other people together and see if you can find out anything about the plane this kid fell from."
"Okay, will do Tommy." he says.
"But keep this a secret, expecially around Paul. His mouth is bigger than the Atlantic Ocean."
We leave the office.
End Chapter
- - - - - - - - - - -
sigh...i feel so hurt being that I have no reviews and all (except one)