Gangstress

August 1998 (1)

***Angel's POV***

"You're not staying?" Luis asked me with confusion, watching as I quickly moved myself from his bed. Truthfully, I'm not actually even sure if that is his name, but it's my best guess. I'd say he looks like a Luis at least. 

Paying him no mind as I began re-dressing myself in the red tube top and matching skirt I had arrived in, I casually replied, "I have work tomorrow." 

"Well, couldn't you just leave from here in the morning?" Luis asked once more.

Rolling my eyes as I stared into his large dresser mirror, my digits fiddled with the strands of my jet-black hair, correcting anything seemingly out of place. "No, sorry."  

Pausing for a moment, he nodded before making one last hopeful request. "Can I have your number at least?" 

Offering a tight-lipped smile, I turned towards him. "Give me your number, I'll call you later maybe." 

Quickly grabbing both a pen and a fast-food napkin from off of his side table, he jotted down his number. Slipping my black heels on, I grabbed the scrap piece of paper from his hand. "Thanks. I'll call you." Smiling my best fake-smile, I turned before exiting his bedroom. 

"Do you want me to walk you out?" I heard as Luis yelled from behind me. 

"No thanks!" I exclaimed in response.  

Reaching his front door, I let myself out of his apartment before checking my watch. Fuck, two am already? I'm going to be so exhausted for work tomorrow. And not to mention, hungover. I still feel tipsy from all the drinking I was doing earlier in the night. 

Stepping outside into the warm, August air, I chucked the napkin in the garbage, flagging down a cab simultaneously. Giving the driver my address, we begun our short, twenty-minute trip towards the small house I had been renting in Brooklyn. Remaining silent the rest of the way, I chose to just watch as the buildings and nighttime lights passed us by. I never imagined cab drivers liked it when their passengers talked too much, so I usually would just shut up and reminisce on all of the well-loved areas of my city.

Pulling up to my address, I quickly reached forward as I handed the driver some cash. Thanking him, I peeled myself out from the worn leather interior before making my way towards my front steps.

"Angel!" I heard as a familiar voice yelled from across the street. Cranking my neck, I recognized Bert waving his arms, his stolen grocery store cart filled to the brim with empty cans and bottles. "Why you gettin' home so late?" Bert yelled once more. 

"Another night another dick, Bert!" I yelled, walking up the steps as I listened to his loud laugh echo off of the old, run-down buildings. Bert was homeless, and always seemed to hang out around my house. I had gotten to know him pretty well over the years through drinking beers on my steps, or bringing him the odd joint or two whenever I had weed to spare. He was always so nice to me, and I enjoyed having him around to watch my place and make sure it never got broken into. That's happened one too many times to count at this point, so I appreciate the added level of security Bert brings me. 

Unlocking my door, I said goodnight to Bert as I dropped my purse and shoes at the entrance. Heading towards my room, I quickly threw on some old sweats and a tiny tank top that had been laying on my floor. Fighting the urge to just climb into my bed, I knew Zoe would kill me if I didn't call her and tell her I got home okay. 

Walking back out towards my kitchen, I picked up my landline before dialling Zoe's number. "Hey! You're home safe and sound, I presume?" Her cheerful tone rang through the speaker. 

Nodding to myself, I began to wrap the coiled cord around my pointer finger. "Yeah, just got back." 

"How was that guy you went home with?" She inquired with interest.