Renovating the Heart (FFXV)

VIII) Reaching

~2 years before~

The crumbled streets of Insomnia were wrecked, degraded into chunks of rubble and deconstructed to dust at its very core. And yet, the outskirts were still very much intact, touched only by the clouds of powered stone that once billowed from the Imperials' destruction. The rain fell at a lazy pace, not quite hard enough to soak, but cool enough to chill. Citizens of the Crown City wandered the streets, staring at the black sky in wonder as if they were unsure if the sun would rise in the morning. Would daemons invade their city in the dead of night? Would their families be safe? It had already been several months since the Dawn, and yet, they could still hardly believe their eyes when the light of day inevitably returned.

A lone woman hugged her arms to her body, sickly thin and pale as the light of the moon that hid behind the clouds, and wandered down the dimly lit street. She was dressed in a sheer black dress and heels that made her appear far taller than she really was. Her hair was long, curling in ebony waves down her back, shining in the flickering neon 'Open' sign she strode past. Her neck, ears, and wrists were adorned with all sorts of glistening pieces of jewelry that, if one looked close enough they would realize, were simply gold-painted plastic pieces. The young woman hurried down the sidewalk, across the lifeless street, and into an alleyway that was dimly lit with gas lamps where oil-stained men with thick skin and even thicker wallets bellowed laughter beneath a tarp, clearly drunk.

"Hey, hey, what's this, gentlemen?" One of the older men stood, appearing to be in his mid-forties. "A lady of the night! Didn't think they made those anymore." His entourage chortled. Uneasily, the woman took a few more steps into the alley. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Rachel," she replied cautiously, her pale eyes glinting in the light of the lanterns. "What are you doing back here?"

"Surviving!" The men cheered, raising their drinks. The man, who appeared to be the leader of the group, laughed, crossing his arms. "How 'bout you? Lookin' for patrons?"

"I..." Her voice cut out and she looked down to the puddle she'd stepped in. She was no good at this way of life, but what else could she do? It pays the bills.

"Course you are! Even when the world's tryin' to get back up, the Crown's drinkin' up all our money." He cocked his head to the side, grinning. "What's your fee, Hon?"

"Fee...?" She swallowed hard, forcing herself to straighten. "I, um, could we speak about this somewhere a little more... private?"

"Oh? What makes you think these guys won't want a turn?"

"I..." Her heart sank as he sauntered closer, pinching her chin and forcing her head back until she was staring up into his bright eyes.

"You're a pretty one—all our women are dead 'n gone, if they ever existed." He raised a dark eyebrow. "Tell you what; I'll give ya double what you tell me you were gonna say. How's that?"

"Me too!" another voice cried. She cringed, swallowing her pride and the lump in her throat, and nodded. For Ana.

"Good. What'll it be? Be as pricey as you want."

"Twenty-five—"

"Nah, c'mon. Bump it up. Forty, times two... That'll getcha eighty gil just from me. Deal?"

"Um... S-sure."

"Good." His dirt-smudged fingers gripped her shoulders and pushed so hard that her legs gave way and she landed in the puddle on the ground. "Quit lookin', perverts!" he called over his shoulder. His friends laughed again, long and loud, clinking their bottles together cheerfully. The man reached down and gripped her hair, jerking her back up, and snarled something she couldn't understand against her ear before straightening with a smug smile. "Let's get this over with, huh?"