35

4. Honest Grievances

   Pouring rain pelted violently against Brandon's black umbrella as the two of them both sat outside for a smoke. There wasn't much cover from the rain besides the front doorway of the bar, but with the countless attendees waltzing in and out of the large black doors that complimented the decorations of the Rosemary Saloon, there wasn't much of a choice anyway.

   Brandon didn't mind it. He had plenty of time to kill, and so did Cindy. Cindy herself, tonight at that very moment, felt that she had all the time in the world to wonder away with her fears, thoughts, memories. She had nothing to worry about here. Cindy didn't think she would've caught onto a man so quickly in all of her years of trying to find anyone in her life willing to listen, even one out there that'd dare lay their eyes on her mundane, scrawny, unhealthy figure. She wasn't the ideal body for any man, and long before her trip to the saloon as she'd thought about for days and days passed, she believed her luck would've played the same as it always had been. Despite her assumptions, for whatever reason, Brandon still kept talking.

   He passed over his lighter to the woman. She thanked him, noticing the absence of her own that she'd left in the car, and in the pouring rain she figured she would save herself from being further drenched. The rain was loud.

It was beautiful out tonight.

   There was a pause between the two of them for a while. Cindy didn't even know how to begin with what she had to say, it had all been living rent free in her mind and her mind only since she was a little girl, though each puff of her freshly lit cigarette gave her just a little more courage each time that she inhaled.

   "I'm an open book, if it helps." Brandon spoke up in between the dead air. "I'm just here for a good time. You kind of need it when you're in Redsbouro. Not much shit here can offer you other than the poor, the sad, and rain. Lots and lots of it, apparently." He wanted to keep talking. She didn't understand him, or why he would've even bothered, but she was okay with that.

"I'm not here for a relationship," her eyes traveled to her boots.

   Brandon paused for a moment, taken back by the sudden assertion. He was more so confused by her body language and her voice to take real note of what she'd just said, though he did hear her clearly. "What makes you say that?" He asked.

She gulped down deeply. "I'm here for sex. That is all."

   Brandon was surprised by the statement, and gave her a look of confusion that made him even more curious as to who this woman really was.

   It wasn't something he hadn't necessarily seen before at the Rosemary. Some people were more blunt than others, some played too hard to get.

"Sex? Are you a sex worker?" He questioned her. "You a prostitute?"

"No", she added, giving herself more room in her mind to think, to explain herself. "But I'm willing to pay you."

Brandon froze up. 'What was this?' he thought in his mind.

"How much do you want? $300? $500? Just for a night. I got the money. I honestly don't care."

   "Hold on, hold on," Brandon chimed up again, further analyzing the situation. "You leave me more questions than answers, Cindy. I only just met you a half hour ago."

Cindy trailed off, her mind now seeming on autopilot. Her mouth spoke before her brain could think.

"I know, and that's okay. I don't have any diseases. I'm clean. In fact, I've never had sex."

   Brandon took back the lighter from her hand. He did believe her, with her frame and seeming inability to get out of the curled up, anxiety riddled position she sat herself in against the concrete wall since they first sat outside, he honestly wouldn't have been surprised that she'd never done anything with another man. She didn't even seem like the type that would've ever put herself out there.