"The usual, Britney?" Elliott looked up at the sullen teenaged girl. Both of then sighed, almost in sync.
"Yeah," Such a simple word, but her voice shook like a leaf in a gale.
"Sit down, I'll bring it over," He gave her a small smile, she didn't return it but nodded vacantly and turned to sit in her usual booth where her and Cori used to sit together. Elliott couldn't help but feel sad seeing her like that. She sat there staring at the empty seat in front of her, continuously pulling at her long sleeves with her thin fingers. No confidence. No secretive motives. No anything. She was just a shell. No one else was there. At this rate, Hotspot was lucky to get more than two full tables of customers a day. It was mean to think it, but a broken teenaged bitch made Elliott's day far more interesting. He put an extra fiver into the till and made himself a frappé while he was at it. When he was done he brought both drinks over to the booth and sat down in front of her.
"Alright?" Britney gave a slight nod, half expecting him to join her.
"Alright?" He nodded back, raising the green straw to his lips.
"Not really," She murmured, "It's my fault, isn't it?"
"It's your fault you've got no friends," Elliott started, "It's not your fault Fiona's dead,"
"I asked her to get the drinks that night," She said, blank, "Something happened inside. Maybe at the bar. Something me and Cori didn't see,"
"I saw nothing, Britney," Elliott shrugged, "I saw you kissing Spike before he passed out, but other than that, I can't help you,"
"Someone must've seen something," She took an angry sip from her own frappé.
•~~×~~•
"Dad!"
Ian stopped what he was doing, the key to his hotel room stilled in midair before he sagged in defeat.
"Lexi," He sighed and looked down the hall at his daughter.
"I need to know, Dad," Her voice was sharp, "Why were you here that night?"
"Lexi-"
"No. No excuses. You need to tell me or I'll report you," Her tone wavered. She was scared.
"I'll tell you if you stop interrupting me," Ian sighed again, "Okay?" Lexi went quiet then, "Alright then. I came to town to see someone,"
"Who?"
"What did I say about interrupting?"
"Fuck off, Dad," She furrowed her eyebrows, walking a little closer, "Who did you come to see?"
"Not you and not Fiona," He said, "I didn't even see Fiona that night,"
"You were in the pub,"
"Before the youngsters poured in, I left to see... left to see this.. person," He kept pausing.
"Who?"
"I didn't get to see her anyway, Lexi. It doesn't matter anymore," Ian shook his head and squinted his eyes into his hand.
"Her?" Lexi eyed him. He wasn't getting away from this.
Lexi.. Why do you think your mother threw me out?" He said after a deep breath.
"Because you were hardly around anyway," The blonde shrugged, "And all your fancy women- oh my God, you were meeting up with one of them?"
"Well, not exactly, no," He coughed then. Nervous that this conversation was happening whether he wanted or not, "Y-y-you have.. you have a sister,"
Before Lexi could even react, the elevator doors opened to reveal Trixie, cigarette between her lips and struggling to get her lighter to work. Then she looked up to see her old classmate with her estranged father.
"Sorry, wrong floor," She quickly punched the button for the ground floor, letting the doors close again and she was left waiting for them to open again. And she trotted her sloppy trot through the lobby once they did.
"You can't smoke in here,"
"I live here, I can do what I want," Trixie rolled her eyes, still struggling with the lighter.
"You're Trixie, aren't you?" She was about to walk past the woman but she stopped to look at her.
"Who's asking?"
"My name is Cleo, can I ask you a few questions about your former employer?"
Trixie froze, her feet stumbling slightly, before turning back to Cleo.
"When you say questions, do you mean questions or some crude and unnecessary accusations?" She asked her slowly.
"I just want to talk," Cleo put her hands up in surrender.
"..Fine, but I'll need a drink," Trixie grumbled, leading the way to the hotel's lounge, "Vodka and cranberry juice, please," She tapped on the bar counter. The bar tender looked at her disapprovingly and opened his mouth to say something.
"It's on me," Cleo said quickly, "And a beer for me,"
The bar tender nodded and got to work.
"Thanks," Trixie looked at her awkwardly, making her wat towards one of the many empty tables, "...My, um. My bar tab is through the fucking roof,"
"Take it as my thanks for letting me speak to you," Cleo shrugged, then took out a pen and notebook, "So, tell me how you met him, your last employer,"
"Well, I'm sure you heard about my previous profession, y'know, before magic," Trixie couldn't help but roll her eyes, "Zap, this middle aged magician who did childrens' parties and events for the community dropped into the house I was in,"
"As a client?" Cleo was already furiously scribbling in her notebook.
"Possibly. We never talked about it," Trixie shrugged and finally took the unlit cigarette from her mouth, dropping it on the table, "All that happened was he saw me there and offered me another job. It's the only detail that matters to me,"
"Okay, so when you left that place, where did Zap take you?" Cleo asked, briefly glancing through her notes for the magician's name.
"Here," Trixie gestured to the hotel that surrounded them, "He had me sleep on the floor and he took the bed. It was fine, really. Better than being a whore, right?"
"Yeah," Cleo gave an awkward chuckle, "So then you did shows as his assistant?"
"Yeah, that's right. It didn't work out all that often, mind you," Trixie looked around the room, as if she was looking for a distraction, "Everyone knew where he found me, so I wasn't welcomed into family homes. He'd make me just wait in the kitchen. Fucking boring is what it was,"
"Trixie, I need to ask about his sudden death," Cleo leaned forward, as if to ask permission.
"Go on, ask," Trixie juxtaposed her, leaning back in her chair.
"Were the sleeping pills he overdosed on yours?"
"Yes,"
"Did you think he was suicidal?"
"No, he just seemed exhausted. Him dying was unexpected to me. I had already taken my dose, asleep, when he decided to off himself," The dark haired girl with such shadowed eyes folded her arms, just waiting to be told that she was liar.
"Where did the pills come from?" Cleo asked. This surprised Trixie.
"Oh, well I've been taking them since I started university, really," She blinked, taking a second to remember.
"You went to college?" Cleo gave the girl an odd look.
"Yeah," She shrugged.
"How did you end up as a prostitute?" The question had been nagging at Cleo for quite some time, but she let it slip with a dumbfounded expression on her face.
"Well, that's for me to know and you to wonder," Trixie took a moment to find a suitable smirk and then went back to the bar counter, seeing that their drinks had been waiting for them for some time.
