Author's note: The formatting should be more decent since I'm on my other computer and can save this as .html instead of .txt! Thank you to the reviewers (just two so far! *sniffle, sniffle*), and I hope more of you join them!
Disclaimer: Same as before! It will never change! Oh, yes, the club and store in this chapter are made up ones, haha, I figured there are enough clubs and shops in New York City to add a few with no harm done! And I don't know any real ones there that I could really describe!
Anya always got a little disoriented in crowds; it was like being surrounded by radios playing at a very, very low volume—you wouldn't even notice if it was just one or two, but altogether it made a racket, and the thoughts and emotions of the people around her were a ringing in her mental ears as she made her way across the crowded quad to her psychology class.
The buzz subsided a little when she reached her classroom and sat down; the other students' minds focused on the teacher's pointless jabbering, and Anya found it easier to concentrate when everyone was thinking about approximately the same thing.
"Today, we're going to talk about fear," Professor James said, finally getting to the point. He went on to discuss the physiological effects of being frightened, the chemical components, the psychological causes… Anya scribbled down notes, hoping she could write fast enough to not miss any of the major points.
"Sometimes fear can have deadly consequences. Fear, in fact, is the major root of prejudices. Fear of people who are different from you. Racism, homophobia… even the recent mutant problem."
Anya's pen slipped and ripped a hole in her paper.
"You okay?" the girl next to her asked as she noticed Anya's startled face.
"Yeah, fine," Anya whispered back with the most natural smile she could muster. The girl turned back around, and Anya focused on her for a minute ,then sighed with relief. She wasn't suspicious; Anya was safe.
"Professor, we SHOULD be scared of mutants. They have powers! They kill people," a blonde girl commented.
"A normal person could kill someone, too," a guy pointed out.
Anya was too scared to speak up; she could feel the very fear and prejudice Professor James had mentioned in the heads of the people all around her.
"Well, it's plain to see that we have all have our fears. The question is, are they justified or not? Where is the line drawn between a rational fear and a phobia? In other words, is it right to be afraid of mutants because of the powers they have? Or are people simply afraid of what they don't know?"
The issue was controversial, obviously. Anya's classmates all began giving their opinions, mostly along the lines of "I don't think I'm prejudiced, but I think that mutants are dangerous," or "I heard that there's this mutant who can…" followed by some horror story.
By the time class was over, Anya was too tense to even think of chatting with anyone after class, they way she usually did. College thus far had been pretty easy, people-wise, and her classes weren't too torturous, either. She really liked her roommate, Allyson, and had, in fact, told her that she'd go with her to a club she'd heard about that night.
When Anya got back to her dorm room, Allyson was, as usual, cleaning. She was a neat freak; she even cleaned up Anya's side of the room for her, just because she couldn't stand to look at clutter. She was perky and talkative and altogether very nice company, especially to Anya, whose behavior depended a lot on the signals she couldn't help but get from those around her. Allyson was always cheery, and her good vibes never failed to improve Anya's mood.
"Hey, girl, what's up?" she shouted over the roar of her hand-held vacuum.
"I just finished psych class."
"Are we going to that club tonight? Rising Sun?"
"Oh, yeah, I guess so. Oh, man, what should I wear? I don't think I have any… clubbish clothes."
"You can borrow some of mine if you want!"
"I don't think they'd fit…"
"We're the same height!"
"But not the same… width," Anya retorted with a laugh.
"We could go shopping after my next class. Do you have any more today?"
"Nope."
"Okay, great. I guess we'll go at like… four then?" She turned off the vacuum, finally. "I saw a really cool looking store
"Yeah, cool," Anya said, her spirits lifting a little from their depressed state after the weird class she'd just had.
And that's how it came to pass that a few hours later Anya and Allyson were pawing through the bargain bin in a giant, fashionable, but very expensive shop called Yellow Brick Road; if you walked through a door at the back, you entered the adjoined shoe store, which was labeled Emerald City and painted various shades of vermilion.
"Ooh, hey, how about this?" Allyson cooed, holding up a one-shoulder top with a diagonal hemline.
Anya sensed that Allyson liked the shirt a lot, but her usual people-pleasing skills didn't apply in this case. "No way! It shows stomach, I can tell."
"So?"
"So that's not the best look for me, trust me."
"Ah, you're just insecure."
Heck, yeah! Anya thought. "No, just realistic!" she said out loud. I'm such a fake, she thought irritably, then went back to rifling through the clothes.
They finally settled on a short black fake-leather skirt and a black tank top with clouds screenprinted across it in shades of white, blue, pink, and lavender.
"And I have shoes you can borrow!" Allyson said as she proudly held the clothes up to Anya. "These really awesome black boots, because I'm gonna wear my stilettos instead tonight."
"Awesome," Anya said, studying herself in the mirror. Man, she was pale. Pretty much just plain white. "I really need some fake tanner."
"Nah, your skin looks good that way with black. Cool contrast!" Allyson picked out a pair of glittery shoelaces for herself, and they joined the end of one of the two impossibly long checkout lines.
A guy with spiky black hair was standing in front of them; he looked over his shoulder, saw Allyson, and immediately turned around and started flirting. Anya picked his signals up clearly—distinct admiration of Allyson, apathetic dismissal of her. Ah, well, she thought, pulling a loose thread that was hanging down from the hem of her new top. He wasn't very cute, anyway.
The guy waited around as Allyson and Anya made their purchases, still talking away a mile a minute, and Allyson answering enthusiastically. Anya gave him a smile from now to then, but mostly zoned out and started mentally adding up how many calories she'd eaten that day; she hadn't planned on wearing a short skirt or a tank top anytime soon, so she felt kind of unused to the idea. She was used to dressing to camouflage her "problem areas", not to show herself off.
The guy finally left, but not until Allyson had told him that they were going to Rising Sun that night and mentioned that it would be cool if he wanted to meet them there. "Wasn't he nice?" she bubbled, and she regaled Anya (who agreed with everything, as usual) with his praises all they way back to the subway station.
Once they were on the train, she switched to talking about how fun the club was going to be, and Anya could join in that discussion a little more enthusiastically.
When they reached the dorm, Allyson immediately went to one of the community bathrooms to start getting ready. Anya collapsed on her bed, relishing the relative silence. She never had complete silence, of course, with everyone's minds buzzing around the dorm, but she was learning to tune things out better. She tuned them out so well, in fact, that she fell asleep, and was shaken awake by a dressed up and anxious Allyson.
"Anya! You're not even ready yet, come on, we should leave soon!" Anya yawned and drowsily followed her roommate's orders as Allyson oversaw her preparation, taking matters into her own hands when it came to Anya's irrepressible hair. She sprayed and combed the ethereal curls into reasonable submission, then handed Anya the promised boots. She finally gave her approval of Anya's appearance and rushed the still-sleepy mutant out the door.
The club was apparently popular, because they had to stand in a long line on the sidewalk before the bouncer admitted them through. As they walk passed, Anya felt his thoughts (and his eyes) focused on the back of her miniskirt, and she grinned as she realized that Allyson must have done her work well.
The guy from Yellow Brick Road had come as promised, and he and Allyson went off to dance. Anya scanned the room for a good prospect. Someone was checking her out from the bar. She turned to look and saw that it was a guy who was at least forty.
Nasty cradle robber, she thought, trying to block out his rather disturbing interest. Someone else was watching her from across the room; she looked over and saw that it was a decent-looking guy about her own age. She gave him a gracious smile, and he countered with a little wave. She glanced over a few more times, and eventually he began making his way across the room. Score!
"Hey, what's up?" the guy said, obviously trying to sound cool. Anya picked up some rather nervous vibes from him, which always made her feel better. She was used to bending her behavior to others, so someone else being nervous about what she would think was a pleasant change.
"Not much. What's your name?"
"Ty. What's yours?"
"Anya."
"Cool name. You wanna dance, Anya?"
"Sure thing."
He turned out the be just the kind of dancer she'd expected—good, but so worried about looking good that he held back the whole time. That was her style too, in life as much as dancing, so they were a pretty well-matched pair. A slow dance came on after that song, but instead of feeling romantic, Anya just started getting sleepy as they stepped back and forth to the music. She stifled a yawn and tried to focus on what Ty was thinking, but she found it to be rather dull; all he was thinking about was worries about what she thinking about.
If someone was reading my mind instead of the other way around, they'd think I was a really boring person, Anya thought glumly.
Ty roamed off somewhere after the dance was over, and Anya was left to sift through the club for possibilities again.
She danced a few more times, with a rather preppy boy who confessed that he was still in high school and had gotten in with a fake ID and a bribe for the bouncer, and then with a guy who had a safety pin through his eyebrow, which ruined the mood during their slow dance because she was occupied with probing his memories to find out just how much that must have hurt.
She went and got a glass of water at the bar after that, and as she slowly sipped it, she stopped searching the bar for people that were paying attention to her and just looked around for anything interesting. The DJ was a Bob Marley lookalike whose mind was in a trance-like state as he spun the records; Anya got so tuned into his thoughts that she could almost feel the discs under her hands. Her eyes slid closed, and her foot in its borrowed boot began slowly tapping the music. The song was weird mix of reggae, rap, and techno, and she zoned out so completely that she didn't even notice the first time Allyson tapped her on the shoulder.
"Anya… Anya, hey!"
"Oh! Oh, hi," Anya said, feeling like she'd been jerked out of a dream. Maybe she really had been dreaming. But then, over Allyson's shoulder, she saw the DJ staring straight at her with a weird look on his face.
Oh my gosh, she thought weakly. He caught me.
Panic rose in her throat. No one had ever noticed her reading their minds before, never! "Ally, I gotta go, OK? I feel kind of bad. I'm gonna go back to the dorm."
"What? Are you okay? Do you have to leave now, we haven't even been here long!"
"Yeah, I'm fine, I just need to rest."
"Do you want me to go with you?"
"No, it's okay, stay." Anya slid off her barstool and looked over at the DJ; his eyes were closed now.
She walked to the door as quickly as possible, shoving past people, her mind a blur. She didn't slow down until she was a block from the club. This street was much quieter, pretty much deserted. She relaxed in the solitude and tried to calm down. The DJ had gone right back to his work, maybe he just happened to be looking over when she'd looked up. But no, he'd been staring, looking puzzled. He'd sensed her interference.
"I'm so tired of hiding," she whispered, not even noticing that she was speaking out loud. She felt a little choked up, almost like she would cry, and she was so distracted that she didn't even notice the dark figure following her, getting closer every minute.
She finally picked up his signal and whirled around, startled, but before she could speak or even think, the man tackled her, and something cold pressed against her neck. She realized it was a knife, and her tears overflowed. As he dragged her down a dark alley, she thought, I'm going to die alone.
Just how she'd always lived.
A/N: I have the fourth chapter all done, but I won't post until I get at least a few reviews! I hardly have any now, it's really depressing. The next chapter introduces a familiar character, whoo! Come on, you know you're curious, review and I'll post!