Chimera Origin

Chapter 11

Three months later, the small crowd watched me sing an acoustic version of Beneath My Throne by Nina Tribus, knocking back beers in the dark lighting of the pub. They weren't all paying attention, and that was fine by me, as long as the tips kept pouring in. Helena was in another pub within the same block, her butch woman look making her more suited to the environment in there, just like I was more suited with my goth looks to this bar with its red walls and black furniture, vampire posters, and True Blood Fangtasia wannabe vibe. If they objected to my singing Casual Affair by Panic At The Disco nobody said a word. Though the cute guy in the corner did wink at me.

Knowing my life was on the line had a weird effect on me lately. On one hand, I could catch RDI and die. On the other, I could get caught by those soldier scientist dudes and locked up for who knows how long, and what for. The nasty feeling that might involve torture, and what kinds of torture they could possibly inflict on a person with my genitalia, clawed at my throat every single time I thought about it.

I didn't want to get caught, but if I did, I hadn't kissed anyone since my parents passed away. No boyfriend after that either because fixing my issues and doing well in school were priorities. Being a virgin at eighteen wasn't bad by any means, but being a virgin that might possibly have things done to her against her will in a lab... I did NOT want my first experiences to be like that. The need to make memories, to experience life at its fullest while free was overwhelming. Like Helena said, prepare for the worst, hope for the best.

So I winked back to the cute guy. He was close enough that his smell was easy to distinguish. It was hormone heavy, he was attracted to me, and it was disease free, he did not have the caramel popcorn like scent of the virus. 

My set was over at two am, and I put the guitar away inside the case. The guy met me at the bar while I sipped my coke. Drinks were technically allowed, Chloe Halliwell was over majority as well, but being intoxicated while on the run seemed stupid. "Hi."

"Hello." He sat on the stool next to the one I was on with my legs crossed. He eyed the mesh shirt and the black triangle bralette, both playing peekaboo with the aid of the leather jacket on top.

"Can I offer you a d-drink?" He stuttered. So cute.

"I am all set, thank you, but you can sit down and talk. My time is free right now." He perked up at the encouraging smile. Under the black hair and eyeliner he was probably my age with an ID as fake as mine.Except in his case he probably wanted to pretend to be older.

"Hm. That caught me by surprise. I thought you were going to tell me to scram." If his scent didn't confirm he was truthful I might have thought he was just trying to score by pity, but no. He was really that shy, and the couple of buddies by the pillar giving him encouraging thumbs up probably weren't helping him any.

"What's your name?"

"Mark."

"Mark, I'm Chloe. Your friends challenge you to try to get a girl?"

"What? N-" I raised an eyebrow. "Yes. Totally blew my cover, huh?" His rejection was palpable. Shy guys were the best, they made me feel safe.

"Kiss me, then." His head snapped up.

"What?" He sounded so disbelieving.

"Kiss me. I'm not going home with you, but that doesn't mean we can't have some fun mocking your friends." If I was to live life again, this was a good start. Just some kissing with a guy who looked, smelled, and acted nice. Attraction was beside the point. He didn't evoke any in me.

He leaned forward, still slightly hesitating until I kissed him back. The matte lipstick kept him from getting black in the face, and he pressed his lips more firmly against mine. I'd forgotten how it felt. For that matter, I'd forgotten how fun it was. The sound system was playing Halestorm, his friends were high fiving in the corner, but I pushed that to the background and tried to enjoy myself, but despite the superficial fun and bodily closeness, nothing happened. I was too aware of everything going on around me. The beers sliding by us in the counter to the people on my other side, the shouting of a woman who got teasingly scared by a friend... the man entering the bar with the bitter scent I now recognized as gunpowder. A soldier?