Myocardium

Part 12

 As soon as I enter the place I have not missed for even a second during the past two nights, I can already feel the drama and chaos cooking. I can smell it, it smells like hell.
"Oh, look who's here! Mr. 'Hot guy asked for my schedule so he can come talk to me once I'm back'!", Stacy laughs as soon as I've entered the changing room. Oh no, please...just, NO!
"Uhm...what are you talking about? What happened?", I ask obliviously to get her to tell me more about it while I'm taking my clothes off.

"Well, Tuesday night, hot dude from the nights before came in and asked where you were...or, to say it in his word, where the kid with the silver hair and the cute outfits was. So, I told him that you'd have the night off and that you'll be back tonight", she explains, lying on the bench with her head dangling off the edge, completely naked. Damnit, Stacy. 

"Uhm, okay?! Did he say why he's looking for me? I don't get it. Fucking freak", I downplay the situation and try to get as much information out of her high ass as I can before being screwed anyway. 

"Hmm...no, he didn't say anything. He just asked for you and left once he found out you weren't here. Bitch didn't even want to fuck me. I wanted him to fuck me. Hell, I'd even peg him if that's what he's into or...idk, let him tie me up or something. Man, do I loooove me some sexy, dominant men", Stacy drools over him and keeps babbling about all those things she would do for him. Tonight's going to be bad, I just know.

To make matters a bit better for me, I hesitate while debating about whether or not I should leave the room sober and eventually come to the conclusion that I definitely should not. So, in my cute-ass pastel-pink outfit, I sit down, strap some piece of clothing I've found – probably somebody's thong or something – around my biceps. 

The bruise is massive, covering a big area on the inner side of my arm that creeps up my biceps and down my forearm from where the little pinholes from the needles are isn't exactly easy. I ignore that and use another one of my sterile needles to suck up some of the obsidian-coloured liquid I got from Stacy, before watching carefully as the needle pricks my skin once again and I squirt the poison into my system, feeling instant relief.

After letting the venom kick in for a hot minute, I pull the needle back out and am on my way to throw it away, but Crystal stops me.
"Hey, I forgot my own, can I borrow? I know you're clean, boy. No worries."
Since I know exactly that this is a terrible idea and I'm not high enough to feel okay with giving her the used syringe, I instead give her one of the ones I got from Joe, before messily covering up what I've done with some makeup and leaving the room. 

With a smile as charming and alluring as ever, I walk over to the bar and sit down on one of the stools, waiting for someone to approach me. It doesn't take long for a shark to fall for the bait and attack. It's a man, about 45 years of age and seemingly a bodybuilder by hobby. Arms like fricking tanks, just like our bouncers.

His whole body's at least twice my size and I know I'm screwed. Literally. Damnit, I really need to get back to working out more, I can't let clients outmuscle me like this over and over again. I greet him and give him a submissive smile, if something like that even exists. He responds and actually sounds as friendly as people can get in a place as fucked up as this. 

The poison in my system makes me so 'happy' that all I want to do is inject more and more. It calms me down so well, makes my hands and legs less shaky and stops my mind from racing as much.
"I like your jacket", I compliment him completely mindlessly. The venom gives me an unexpected rush of energy and numbness at once. It feels so strange to feel as careless as I do right now again, just like I was before my parents died.

"Thank you, sweety. I like your socks", he responds and hooks his thumb into the seam of the fabric around my thigh. I, of course, place my hand on his one and run my finger over the back of it. I thank him and both impress myself and make myself cringe simultaneously with how submissive I can make myself sound.