mascara // m.c.

6 // convict.

michael hadn't seen nico in days.

after the party, and the long, boring cleanup that followed, michael returned to life as normal.

but a piece of his life was missing. when he got on the 184, the usual bus, there was no red hair. no girl who happily slided next to him and applied mascara without a care in the world.

parahmore road came closer. but this time, he didn't see nico. he didn't watch her walk down parahmore road. it was like she'd disappeared.

after he was finished with studies, he headed to the local corner shop to pick up a few things.

he was browsing the music magazines when he saw red from the corner of his eye. he turned. it was nico, it was definitely nico.

she looked different. her face was scrubbed clean, a large jumper covering her arms, and black jeans. she was looking straight at michael, her eyes wide and lips quivering.

"nico," michael spoke, after a few moments. her eyes darted around wildly, like she was afraid someone would hear her.

"michael...michael, you have to help me," nico spoke, hushed. even in the low light, michael could see her eyes filling up with tears. he felt sick seeing her like this.

"nico," a male voice spoke from behind one of the shelves, and behind them emerged a tall young man. he had prickly hair, like a buzzcut, a plain tee and stonewashed jeans. he looked like an escaped convict. "it's time to go."