$witchblade - sequel to $carecrow. A $crim fanfiction.

Chapter 2: Victoria

TW: drug use.

I'm running late for work today. It could be the anxiety of seeing Scott again just making me want to stay at home. I switch the lights off and lock the front door, leaving the flat. Victoria has already left without me, so I have to take the bus today.

As I get on, I tap my metro card on the scanner and look for a seat, it's quite busy, but I finally see one at the back. I grab the end of my coat and make sure I'm sitting on it, on the seat, since I'm wearing lingerie underneath. It starts to rain outside, it's always raining here. The bus drives through all of the shady looking neighbourhoods, before it finally stops near the club. I try not to make eye contact with anyone who gets on, in case they try to talk to me or even worse, hit on me.

Finally it comes to a halt, almost throwing me off my seat. I click the buzzer to let the driver know that someone is getting off. Then I trail down the aisle and out the door. The rain was picking up, I have to try and make it inside without my makeup coming off or ruining my hair.

I walk down the alley and push through the door out the back that leads to the private show rooms. Then I rush down to the dressing room. Victoria is sitting at my station.

"I picked up some hair bleach for you at the store, you have a private dance booked for later on today, so you might wanna get all that old colour out....it could also help you look like someone else," she says,

"Wait who is my dance for?" I ask,

"Here," she reaches over to another station and grabs the appointment book.

Victoria flips through all of the pages until she finally lands at today, she finds my name on the column, pointing at it. I read until I realise who it could be for. There's another girl booked with me, so it's entirely possible it could be Scott.

"Let's go to the bathroom so I can do your hair," she tells me,

"I kinda have to be on the floor," I say,

"I mean, if you want Scott to recognise you then sure,"

"Let's go." I tell her.

We get into the bathroom as she starts mixing up the bleach. I study myself in the mirror, making sure my makeup matched my blue velvet lingerie. It went well with my aqua hair, but I guess it's good to change it and release all the baggage I was holding from when I dyed it last.

"Okay, just leave this on for 40, or until its blonde," she says, painting my head.

It felt weird and had a acidic smell to it. I watched my hair slowly start to lift its tones out and be replaced with a golden-ish colour.

"Has he come in yet?" I ask,

"I don't think so, I haven't seen him, usually one of the girls will say something, he brings coke in so they all get excited to see him," she tells me,

"He's on coke a lot?" I ask,

"Every time he's in, yeah, I was offered some when I danced but I didn't trust him at first,"

"Should I do it?" I ask,

"If you want, it's not like he's going to snap at you if you don't,"

"Scott was known for snapping at me," I laugh,

"Oh really?" She asks,

"Back when we were in Miami, he found out I was fucking his cousin...."

I begin to speak but then I space out into a flashback. I remember when we finally got to the hotel, he left but forgot his phone. I was already getting with Aristos when he came back. I should have been more careful, if he came back and I was just rolling a blunt, the whole trip would have been more peaceful. But why do I blame myself so much when I think of him?