the dick head and his queen

never meet your idols

(based off ferocious) 

Amanda, a young brunette woman. Walked down the damp streets of the little downtown her city provided. Her black boots trying to avoid the miscellaneous puddles of stuff she couldn't nor wanted to determine. Uren, vomit, maybe alcohol, some fourth more horrific thing. She held up her hand to her face, setting her cigarette between her lips and taking a much needed breath of its toxic smoke. Her shoulders heightened in her knitted cardigan, displaying white skulls in the black pattern. She pulled it over her black rumper with decretive buttons that shun in the lamp lights on the street. It did nothing to warm her with her spiderwebbed fishnets on. 

She took another puff of her cigarette. Her body shaking a little as the wind picked up. She scanned the area's signs. Watching the buildings go by until she spotted one. A small bar hat looked pushed into place like all the other clubs on the street. A sign flashed at her. 'Blackwing' the green light told. Under it was a case full of flyers of stuff no one ever read. The building dipped like a little u shape where the doors sat in the middle of. On the double, paint chipped black door sat a poster. 'Opening soon, hiring female waitress'. Amanda stared at it and finished off her cigarette. She let out a deep breath with the last of the smoke then put the snuffed out bud in her pocket. 

Amanda swayed in her stands twice then reached for the door. She gripped the handle hard then pulled, expecting the thick door to be heavier. And for her to not be as strong as she was. But it opened easily and she walked into the building. Inside was dimly lit. She hardly saw the stacked up tables near the front. Almost stepping into one and knocking it over. She peered out as she took slow unsure steps. Spotting people in a single proper light, all situated on a round table. Three woman she thinks. And a man who's voice carried over the spacious room.

She heard his hands clap and a chuckle escape him before he turned to look at the entrance. She faltered in her walk. Not really able to see him properly. But he was tall, lanky but deceptively so. The closer she got the bulker he seemed to get. An imitation denim over shirt sat on him. Hiked up by his body's movements, making the front bubble a little around his chest where three of the buttons were undone. The sleeves were rolled up, showing off tattoos she couldn't make out in the light. His black jeans crumbled around his legs were they hung over the tops of his boots. A chain gleamed at her around the side of his thigh. 

"You here for the job interview" he asked, his voice deep with a slight accent she couldn't determine. Brooklyn. Maybe southern. Canadian. She blinked up at him, catching his surprisingly bright eyes staring at her. "Y-Yes" she forced herself to say. Hoping she didn't shout the answer in her attempt to be louder then her pounding heart. The man turned and hurried over to the bar near by. He picked up a paper as she walked into the light, closer to the girls that all seemed to fit an arch type. Long blond, small waist, big tits that barely stayed in their shirts. 

The man walked into her space and she snapped her head up. Seeing his features a little better now. His long face, his clearly broken nose that had a band aid over the bridge. His hair was buzzed at the bottom but flopped in a brown mohawk. Strips of bleached blond intermingled in it. "Just fill this out" he told her. As if his words were crashing reality, she looked down at the paper he held. She gave him a quick glance and smiled as un - nervously as she could manage. "Thank you" she told, reaching for the offered items. Paper and pen. She stepped away to sit down with the other girls. 

Amanda did her best to not breath to loudly and just fill out the application for the job. Seeing on the first page that she should of brought a resume. She cursed herself for not remembering to bring a resume. She set the pen to paper and began filling it out anyway. Already here might as well. 

She heard the interviews going on as she filled out her paper. The man listing off things he saw on the other girls pages and then them spiraling into nervous explanations. One rambled so much he simply told her he'd be in touch. If that wasn't an obvious 'you didn't get the job' line any employer had spoken. Amanda tried to focus with all the noise and her own anxiety's spiking as another woman left. She swore she saw someone moving in the shadows. Heading up the stairs. She shook the thought from her head. She finished her application. Looking up now she could see there were only three people left in the building. Herself, the man, and a woman who sat on a stool net to him.