NIKKI & JOE, CASUALLY | updates every monday

07: serial killer vibe

            Despite my resolution to not talk about this until Cece sobers up enough for a word I say to penetrate his brain, I can't stop myself from breaking the silence. 'How'd you even get in?'

My body is too jittery to drive yet. The adrenaline drains at a nebbish pace, making me feel like I've got thrice the usual number of limbs and somehow also zero. So we sit in the car while I try to breathe through the vines, negotiate their retreat to my spine until I get into bed and they're free to infest every joint.

'It's not Ocean's Eleven. Nicked a key, didn't I.' Cece finishes the text he's typing, checking in with Diwa and the others before they dig out a key card from their pocket. They toss it at me. 'Oh, also—got you this.'

A box lands on top of the lanyard in my lap. 'I'm not taking your stolen–' I pick up the packet of sheet masks. The text is only in Korean so they must be quality. Well... I can't go return them now, can I? I doubt Seamus will be as sparing about phoning the police a second time. Might as well use them, right?

I slot the packet into the compartment in my door and pick up the lanyard. The photo on the key card shows a handsome Asian man. Asymmetrical dimples, downturned eyes, tawny skin. Michael Khair.

I hold it out to Cece and when they don't take it, slip it into his thigh pocket myself. 'You'll give it back.'

'I don't know the bloke.'

'Google him then,' I seethe. 'You can send him a message on Facebook.'

'What century d'you think I'm from that you reckon I've got Facebook?'

When I don't smile, their confidence flickers. Through their intoxication, understanding is slow to unfurl until Cece realises that I'm dead serious about him returning it and the grin drops. 

'Can't I just drop it at the police–?'

'No.' I'm about to lecture him that if they want to avoid awkward confrontations then don't steal people's shit when a silhouette rounds the dark corner of The Lowry and catches the lights from the front. It's Joe, out of her uniform.

I twist the key from the ignition in case Cece gets impatient and decides to try driving themself home. '¡Quieto!' I command as I climb out of the car and Cece flips me off through the windscreen.

I jog over to Joe, then jerk to a walk. Should probably not run at women who don't know me across car parks in the middle of the night. 'Hey!' I call when I'm several yards away and Joe's focus flinches from her phone.

An easy smile spreads on her face when she recognises me. 'Hi—um, sorry, what's your name again?'

'Nikki,' I say and grimace.

I don't have time to correct myself before Joe repeats, 'Nikki.' She smiles again and hooks her bi-flag tote bag higher on her shoulder. Her eyeliner, I notice now, is also done in the bi colours.

'Did you get off work?' I ask though it's a dense fucking question. I doubt she'd change out of her uniform just to go on a break. But on the chance she has, I don't wanna use up her fifteen minutes when I've already likely spoilt her night.

'No, I got sacked.' Joe laughs at my horror. 'Don't worry about it. It would've happened in a few weeks anyway. I have this thing where I can't keep a job for more than three months.'

I cover my face in my hands, rake my fingers to the back of my head. My eyes lock with hers, begging her to admit this is just a wind-up. But, though Joe continues to smile, all perfect teeth, she don't break the act.