Demolition Lovers (Frerard)

12: this is the bit when i introduce 45789 new characters & the plot is fucked

Alicia had left work that day - two hours early and with a pistol in her handbag, and far too much adrenaline in her veins, because for such a sin - it felt so good, and maybe, just maybe she shouldn't drink vodka, but maybe, just maybe the world should step up its game if life was getting so boring that she was forced to resort to creating her own kind of fun with a gun.

The first shot was shaky and kind of nervous: the darkness in the back of an alleyway and someone that didn't deserve it at all: just a person, but just someone with a skull for a bullet to crack open, and for Alicia, that was more than enough.

It was only a small hand size pistol and therefore, the bang wasn't too loud, which admittedly did work in her favour, but still despite the man's bleeding body on the floor before her, it didn't quite feel real and despite his death, she still felt like she hadn't really done anything.

She stood in silence for entirely far too long as she just about struggled to accept what she'd just done, because maybe, vodka or not, this was a bad idea - this was a life-ruining idea, but maybe, just maybe Alicia Simmons didn't care one little bit.

And that confidence was over before it even started with the firm grip of a hand on her shoulder as she practically died on the spot, much in contrast to the guy a few feet away, who did actually lie dead on the floor, and the pistol in her hands that very much revealed to just who'd shot him.

"What are you still doing here?" The voice was deep, and kind of rough, yet somehow just a little off and unplaceable, but even if this was the voice of pubescent Justin Bieber, it would have still been enough to have Alicia shaking like hell. "I could have been a cop, I could have been a person with any sort of moral complex and you could have been done for right now. Put the gun away at the very least."

Alicia followed the voice's instruction and hid the gun away in her handbag.

"Good. At least you didn't shoot him out in the open- you're a beginner, but you're not an idiot - I can tell. I don't care why or why not you did it: I'm not a feelings person, I'm a reality person - you shot him and that's that. I'm in no position to make a judge of your character." And really, for some sort of intimidating, psychotic asshole, he was really quite a considerate guy. "You do need to get out of here though. Walk with me and I'll be your alibi, after all, the police are going to find this body - we just don't have to be here when they do- unless you have a death wish, like your 'friend' here, that is."

"Who the hell are you?" Alicia exhaled loudly, finally turning to face the voice that had been pretty much haunting her head for the last few minutes. "You're a girl?" She exclaimed as she turned and found herself face to face with a dark haired, tall, and fucking intimidating looking woman.

"So are you." She noted with a snort. "I'm Lindsey. You?"

"Alicia." She practically forced the word out as Lindsey grabbed her by the hand and dragged her back through the alleyway and to god knows where. "Where are we going?"

"To a friend's: I need to tell him about the fact that you shot someone- otherwise he's going to think it was one of his men, and then someone's going to get into trouble for nothing-"

"His men? What is this? The mafia?" Alicia exclaimed, the vodka beginning to wear off for the most part, and now reality seemed so fucking messed up and she soon came to realise just how out of her depth she was right now.

"It's a gang - he's a gang leader, but he's a nice guy as long as you're nice to him. I think he'll like you anyway." Lindsey added a smile to the end of her sentence, as if it was somehow going to miraculously make Alicia take her mind off the unavoidable reality of what had just occurred. "Why did you shoot that guy? Was he a particularly psycho ex-boyfriend or something?"