Tainted Love

⇸ Chapter 1 ⇷

Charley opened her eyes to the dimly lit room, though it was daytime, no-one had bothered to get up and open the broken blinds. Her body ached all over as she heaved one leg over the side of the stained blue sofa. As her bare foot scraped against the floor, the telltale clink of bottles roused Alice for a moment. The girl hummed and rolled over to her other side, the only barrier between her and the broken glass on the carpet a weathered Radiohead shirt that was three sizes too big. With an awkward wriggle over the glass, she hummed and began to doze again.

 'Best let her sleep it off,' Charley thought as she planted both her feet on the floor. She squinted against the morning light that stabbed through the broken slats of the blinds, her mouth dry and sticky with thick saliva.

She surveyed the room, though she didn't know what she had expected, Jack's parties always ended in a trashed gaff. The floor was littered with all sorts of crap: booze stains, condom wrappers, bras, snapped cigarettes and small nuggets of weed that had been dropped when rolling, not to mention partygoers, half she didn't know, that sprawled across the room. With a groan, she stood, careful to tip-toe around the glass into the kitchen which wasn't in much of a better state. Bottles lined the counter like some chaotic city skyline all stuck to the side with dried, sticky vodka. Why did alcohol always get spilled? Granted it was the cheap shit that was probably laced with bleach and tasted like vinegar but that shit's expensive; it was expensive to them anyway.

She took the cleanest looking glass from the mass of bottles and drained what she assumed was vodka down the sink. Refilling the glass she leaned against the counter and chugged. Gasping for air she took a moment to assess the damage. Her fishnets were full of holes. Well, more holes than usual. Wait... less holes? Yeah. Less holes. Other than that and her thong riding so far up her ass it could have cut her in two, her outfit was still pretty sound. Her clothes and underwear were still on; all in all, a successful night. The same couldn't be said for Jack who was probably upstairs with a girl or two wrapped in that stained duvet of his without a sheet. 

'He's gonna' flip when he gets up,' Charley thought as she threw the last dribble of water down the sink. Speaking of Jack, it was probably best she was gone when he finally returned downstairs.

Charley mustered what remained of her strength to creep back into the living room and grab her Demonia's and her leather from the sofa where she'd dumped them. Demonia's sound pretty posh given the fancy price tag; she liked to let people believe that she had bought them on ebay for a deal but in reality, she'd found them out by the bins of some rich kid's place. Sure they had a few scuffs and the platform needed glueing but other than that it would have been a waste to let them be thrown! She shoved her feet into the boot and shifted uncomfortably as she pulled up the zip. She had socks last night but they weren't worth looking for.

Assuming that the front door was locked she headed out back through the kitchen. The glaring sun blinded her. 

'Since when the hell do we get sun in this part of the planet?' She grumbled internally. After a moment of adjustment she stepped into the yard as her eyes caught a glimpse of two dudes curled up by the bins under the window in various states of undress. Wow... Ryan had reached a new low.

Her friend slept like a baby under the bare, muscled arm of Kyle Connor. 

'Didn't know he was into dudes,' she commented with a little chuckle. At least that explained why they were outside. She would certainly enjoy questioning Ryan about him later, but right now she just wanted her bed. Charley kissed her hand firmly and planted the mark right on Ryan's forehead. He mumbled and shifted a bit but soon stilled. With a slight grin, she stepped out of the yard through the broken chain fence and made her way to the street.

Not many people were up at this time in their part of town. Not many had jobs to be up early for, those that did mostly did bar work and stuff and were likely still sleeping off last night's shift. She enjoyed the quiet. Cities were so loud! Everyone was in such a hurry all the time and never stopped to think that someone might want to cross the road. The only good thing about the cities were the underground clubs she frequented which a bit of cash came her way.

It was weird to think that there was a worse part of town than where Jack lived. The houses devolved from mould-ridden terraced council accommodations to mould-ridden, metal-lined trailers clustered together behind a wire fence. Hers was three from the back, a couple trailers over from where Alice and Ryan lived with their dad, or, usually lived with their dad. He'd been gone for weeks down. Alice didn't want to admit that he was gone for good but Ryan knew better.

She didn't worry about noise as she pushed her flimsy key into the padlock, there was no way that her mother was up at this time. Her nose wrinkled as she shut the door behind her. Her trailer didn't smell much better than the party. Though, that wasn't the disappointing part; Cliff was there, his signature weathered leather jacket slung over the back of the chair by the small two-person table in front of the stove. She'd tried to tell her mum that Cliff was a pervert who always seemed intently interested when she and Alice went to her room to change. Though the gross 'jokes' like 'need some help in there' or, 'C'mon girls, give me fashion show' didn't seem to alarm her much. She just said that 'Men will be men' with a shrug and the sooner she got used to that fact the sooner she could get on with her life. Perhaps it was her smutty romance novels she bought from the charity or just general human decency but she didn't think that she would ever 'get used' to that idea.

With a grunt she flung herself down on the sofa and flicked on the old TV that she'd scavenged from the back of a care home down the road; still the best find she'd had in months. Through the grainy speakers she managed to make out the news story. Another murder. Perhaps she should have been more alarmed at that and sure, normal people would be, but murders were all but rare in Holbek. Drug warfare one week, jealous ex the next, it was almost enough that you could gamble on what the cause of death would be this week; a stabbing or a bludgeoning? Alice called them sick, Ryan and Charley called it making the best of a bad situation.

But, with no one to gamble with, Charley flicked off the TV and stalked to her room. Her mum sacrificed space for a double bed (easier for her 'activities') but Charley had favoured the opposite. Plus, a single was the only way to get a desk into the trailer and she'd be damned if she was going to attempt to do her drawing with Cliff shouting at the TV every two minutes. Perhaps the TV wasn't the best find after all.

She threw her leather down on the chair by the desk and collapsed onto the bed, not even bothering to crawl under the sheets before exhaustion overtook her.