Watercolour Eyes

The Life We Knew

A/N Some stuff doesn't follow timelines but it's okay because it's fan fiction. 

Tiffany had gotten home late. She'd just visited Sid who at the moment was stuck in a jail cell. 

It seemed she was the only one who had been genuinely caring for him, she was worried about him. Malcolm had been trying his hardest to build up money for Sid's bail which seemed to be becoming increasingly difficult and time was running out. 

As Tiffany got back to the hotel room she shut the door, throwing her back against it and leaning her head on it. She felt drained more and more as the days passed, and with all of her heart she wanted to believe Sid didn't do it. 

"Tiffany?" Mickey shouted from the bedroom. "Yeah it's me!" She shouted back before taking her heels off and walking into the bedroom where Mickey sat on the edge of the bed, shooting heroin into his arm. He looked at her as she stood in the doorway. 

"You alright?" He asked simply. He'd not been himself lately, however Tiffany just put that down to him losing Vanity. She sighed "This shit with Sid is fucking killing me." She slid her leather jacket off and threw it onto the bed. 

"I don't know why you bother." He replied, grabbing his packet of cigarettes and lighting one. taking a drag before continuing "Never in my life would i have thought you'd spend your time on a murderer." He mumbled. 

Tiffany's eyebrows furrowed. "What?" She stepped closer. "Wait...You don't think he did it do you?" She asked. Mickey looked up at her again "Well unless you've got any other ideas. I mean who else?"

Tiffany felt her heart drop at Mickey's words, a cold wave of disbelief washing over her. "You're serious?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "You really think Sid did it?"

Mickey took another drag from his cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke that seemed to fill the room with tension. "I don't see why you're so surprised, Tiff," he said, his voice laced with a bitter edge. "The guy's always been a ticking time bomb. Maybe Vanity just pushed him too far."

Tiffany's hands clenched into fists at her sides. "You don't know what you're talking about," she snapped, her voice rising. "Sid loved her! He would never hurt her!"

Mickey shrugged, his eyes cold and distant. "Love can make people do crazy things," he muttered. "I've seen it happen."

"You're wrong," Tiffany insisted, her anger mounting. "You're so fucking wrong, Mickey. Sid's innocent, and you know it."

Mickey's expression hardened, his jaw clenching as he stubbed out his cigarette. "Why are you defending him so much, huh?" he demanded, standing up to face her. "You got a thing for him or something?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Tiffany shot back, her eyes blazing with fury. "This isn't about me. This is about Vanity, and finding out who really killed her."

Mickey laughed, a harsh, humourless sound. "You think you're some kind of detective now?" he sneered. "Face it, Tiffany. You're just as clueless as the rest of us."

The room seemed to crackle with tension as the two stared each other down, neither willing to back down. Finally, Tiffany shook her head, her voice trembling with emotion. "You can't seriously believe Sid did this," she said, her eyes searching Mickey's face for any sign of doubt.

Mickey looked away, his expression wavering for just a moment before he hardened his resolve. "Who else, Tiffany?" he asked, his voice cracking. "Who else could have done it?"

Tiffany's mind raced, trying to piece together the fragments of the night Vanity died. Her eyes widened as a horrifying thought struck her. "Wait a minute," she said slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Mickey... where were you that night?"