Title: NIRVANA, INC.
If only her landlord didn’t have something crawl up his ass to make him raise her rent by a hundred creds, she would have already met her quota for the week. Rayn didn’t like staying at any rathskeller for this long. Shit, she didn’t like having to set one foot in the bitch in the first place.
A SnowAngel junkie walked in, multiple injector marks flashing on her collarbone. Rayn was always weary of the ones who weren’t somewhat scared. No one dared walk in the middle of Main Way with their vice exposed like that, unless you were a fool or had a death wish.
The bar drone nodded in her direction. A man slid off a vinyl stool and walked towards her. The flashing lights flickered on his face as he crossed the dance floor, his motion blinking in and out, making him look like an automate.
He is a newb, Rayn thought as he sat across from her table, his eyes looking at anything but her.
“How much?” His manicured fingers rubbed his thighs in a manic back and forth on his cheap polyester pants. He wore the style of the slums but his clothes were new, betraying the fact he wasn’t a ghetto boy.
“One hundred.” She caught his fleeing eyes and cocked an innocent smile. She knew just how much to shake down the rich kids looking for a thrill. Her painted fingernails strummed against the seat next to her.
He smelled of tabajuana, sweet and musky, mixed with the fresh sting of the peppermint leaf he was nibbling on.