familiar
room.
Everything is the
same, and yet I sense a difference in the atmosphere. A subtle shift I’m unable
to pinpoint exactly.
“Lucky.”
The way he says
my name draws a shiver.
“Hi,” I manage as
I shut the door behind me.
“Sit down.”
My movements lack
perfect coordination as I move forward, and for the first time since this whole
surreal situation started I experience real fear. Oh, I’ve been afraid for my
life since fleeing The Villa. But there’s nothing like being offered hope, and
having it yanked away from you without explanation.
Fists balled in
my lap, I stare at the surface of the table. Looking into the camera is too much.
My desperation is too raw.
“Look at me,
Lucky.”
The request is
absurd seeing as he’s not in the room with me, but I know what he means. I want
to pre-empt rejection with a plea. Or a fuck
you . But words refuse to form.
I look into the
camera.
“I’m told we have
an accommodation problem.”
Shock spikes
through me. “I…what?”
“You’ve been
evicted from your motel.”
Fionnella.
My gaze drops.
“Yes.”
“Lucky.” The
demand is robotic, but no less intractable.
I find the lens
again.
“A situation like
this is potentially disruptive. Do you agree, Lucky?”
Potentially . All’s not lost. Yet. I clench my gut
against premature relief. “I won’t let it get in the way of what I’m doing.”
“It already has.”
“How?”
“I’m here.
Talking to you.”
I ignore the
sting of the words. “Right. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”
“You said you
wouldn’t fail me.”
“I haven’t,” I
answer, sharper than I intended. I wince and bite the inside of my lip. “Not
really. I’m sorry Fionnella had to disturb you, but I had things under
control.”
“How?” He throws
my question back at me.
My gaze drops
again, even though I sense that doesn’t please him. But I can’t bear for him to
witness my shame. “I was going to find another place tonight.”
“Where? And
before you think of lying or refusing to answer, know that I won’t allow you to
leave until I have an address where I can reach you.”
I glare at him.
“I wasn’t going to lie.”
“Good.”
He waits.
I purse my lips,
stomp down hard on my shame. It doesn’t die a complete death but it’s
temporarily maimed. “I was going to find a bed at a shelter for the night, then
hunt for somewhere else to live tomorrow.”
Thick silence
pulses through the wall, feeds through the lens. I’m not even sure if he’s in
this apartment or this building, never mind the same city as me. And yet I feel
him. Around me. Above me. Inside me.
“A shelter.”
I nod.
“Remember the guy
in the bar, Lucky? The one who wants to fuck you more than he wants to live? Do
you think that guy would want the woman he craves to be spending the night in a
shelter?”
Who
is this guy? Who the fuck is he to mess with me like this?
Fuck him and fuck
this bullshit.
I charge to my
feet and glare straight into the blinking light of the camera. “That was a
made-up fantasy. This is my life! I’m sorry if I ruined your grand plans for
the evening. You think I enjoy being made homeless? You think I enjoy being
tossed out on my ass without getting my money back for the rathole I had the
privilege of calling home, or some dumb fuck telling me the only way I’m going
to get my money is to suck his cock?”
I know I should
stop, but my last nerve is shredded to pieces along with my hope. And if all
I’m going to get out of this acid trip is a waxed crotch, nice smelling hair
and a few free meals, then I deserve to rant a little.
Because, fuck
karma.
“I know I’m
nothing more than some expendable commodity to you, but you have no right to
call me out for doing what I need to do to survive. I said I’ll take care of it
and I will. If that’s not good enough for you, then too bad.”
My chest burns
with the need for air and I realize I haven’t taken a breath throughout
room.
Everything is the
same, and yet I sense a difference in the atmosphere. A subtle shift I’m unable
to pinpoint exactly.
“Lucky.”
The way he says
my name draws a shiver.
“Hi,” I manage as
I shut the door behind me.
“Sit down.”
My movements lack
perfect coordination as I move forward, and for the first time since this whole
surreal situation started I experience real fear. Oh, I’ve been afraid for my
life since fleeing The Villa. But there’s nothing like being offered hope, and
having it yanked away from you without explanation.
Fists balled in
my lap, I stare at the surface of the table. Looking into the camera is too much.
My desperation is too raw.
“Look at me,
Lucky.”
The request is
absurd seeing as he’s not in the room with me, but I know what he means. I want
to pre-empt rejection with a plea. Or a fuck
you . But words refuse to form.
I look into the
camera.
“I’m told we have
an accommodation problem.”
Shock spikes
through me. “I…what?”
“You’ve been
evicted from your motel.”
Fionnella.
My gaze drops.
“Yes.”
“Lucky.” The
demand is robotic, but no less intractable.
I find the lens
again.
“A situation like
this is potentially disruptive. Do you agree, Lucky?”
Potentially . All’s not lost. Yet. I clench my gut
against premature relief. “I won’t let it get in the way of what I’m doing.”
“It already has.”
“How?”
“I’m here.
Talking to you.”
I ignore the
sting of the words. “Right. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”
“You said you
wouldn’t fail me.”
“I haven’t,” I
answer, sharper than I intended. I wince and bite the inside of my lip. “Not
really. I’m sorry Fionnella had to disturb you, but I had things under
control.”
“How?” He throws
my question back at me.
My gaze drops
again, even though I sense that doesn’t please him. But I can’t bear for him to
witness my shame. “I was going to find another place tonight.”
“Where? And
before you think of lying or refusing to answer, know that I won’t allow you to
leave until I have an address where I can reach you.”
I glare at him.
“I wasn’t going to lie.”
“Good.”
He waits.
I purse my lips,
stomp down hard on my shame. It doesn’t die a complete death but it’s
temporarily maimed. “I was going to find a bed at a shelter for the night, then
hunt for somewhere else to live tomorrow.”
Thick silence
pulses through the wall, feeds through the lens. I’m not even sure if he’s in
this apartment or this building, never mind the same city as me. And yet I feel
him. Around me. Above me. Inside me.
“A shelter.”
I nod.
“Remember the guy
in the bar, Lucky? The one who wants to fuck you more than he wants to live? Do
you think that guy would want the woman he craves to be spending the night in a
shelter?”
Who
is this guy? Who the fuck is he to mess with me like this?
Fuck him and fuck
this bullshit.
I charge to my
feet and glare straight into the blinking light of the camera. “That was a
made-up fantasy. This is my life! I’m sorry if I ruined your grand plans for
the evening. You think I enjoy being made homeless? You think I enjoy being
tossed out on my ass without getting my money back for the rathole I had the
privilege of calling home, or some dumb fuck telling me the only way I’m going
to get my money is to suck his cock?”
I know I should
stop, but my last nerve is shredded to pieces along with my hope. And if all
I’m going to get out of this acid trip is a waxed crotch, nice smelling hair
and a few free meals, then I deserve to rant a little.
Because, fuck
karma.
“I know I’m
nothing more than some expendable commodity to you, but you have no right to
call me out for doing what I need to do to survive. I said I’ll take care of it
and I will. If that’s not good enough for you, then too bad.”
My chest burns
with the need for air and I realize I haven’t taken a breath throughout
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