Dirty Work: Volume 2

Story One - Cravings - 1

Why is it that no matter what a man goes through in life, he can always rely on a greasy burger to get him through the day?

I was in a small place near Chorus' place in 22, a few weeks into the repair of Dirty Work. I haven't seen him since the place was reduced to near rubble, but I know his workings. Since then, the boss has been going double the speed, twice as hard and twice as goddamn fast but he hasn't contacted me yet.

The burger place is dark and dingy, more of a cave than a fast food outlet, and the tables are slick with oil and grease, and probably other stuff too nasty to mention. I try and imagine those dark stains on the floor are just sauce and not blood, and that drying white stuff on the cracked wall tile is just burger filling. The smell is good, but then all cheap and nasty fast-food smells are good; that's the whole point. It can look crap and be made of the actual stuff that comes out of your ass, but if it smells and tastes good then the masses will wolf it down in seconds. Apparently I'm one of the masses in that respect.

I'd gone back to the art gallery a few times in the near month since I'd been there last, hoping to find that girl that I had met there, staring at the painting of the Nightingale. No such luck so far. When working at the club I'd thought I desperately needed someone to talk to that wasn't in relation to it, and now that I can't get to the club I can't find anyone else. Even Markro, Ashrore, Siala and the others weren't talking as much. I had no idea if they'd gone their own ways, or gone underground for a bit. Certainly I was playing hermit for a small time.

Which is why I was there, washing down a crap and greasy burger I'd had sudden cravings for, about to go into Chorus' place for a night.

What had suddenly prompted this thought is something I can't tell you. Why I suddenly decided that a night club in another region was the place to be is beyond my comprehension. But sat there finishing off the burger and draining the can of Fizz-E, I didn't care. I needed some kind of release, something manic but controlled. Chaos in the dark.

I sat there and, staring out of the window, realised that I was sat in exactly the same place, eating the exact same food I had eaten after leaving Chorus' place the first time, taking a small package to Ochre Vaults. That was where it all started. That was where Red Rose first made themselves known.

I sat there, thinking that it was almost like re-treading a route once travelled on in a dream. It was like going back to your childhood home, complete with a somewhat strange smell of nostalgia.

'I hate nostalgia,' I said to myself. I picked up my rubbish and threw it in the bin on the way out. It wasn't raining, thankfully, though overhead sounded like it would unleash a torrent at any moment. I decided I would take a quick walk around the block before heading to the club. I had the uneasy feeling that the sound of rain collecting above was more the sound of the rolling thunder of an oncoming storm.