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Chapter 6
Millie; February 21st, 8:32 P.M.
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Levi’s car pulls into the girls dorms’ parking lot with a small screech. Thank god, is all I can think as I scramble to get out of the car— flustered and hasty. I mutter a quick thank you to him before shutting the car door as gently as possible because I am very conscious of my actions at the moment.
Forcing myself not to look back, I trudge up to the entrance. He doesn’t pull out of the driveway until I shut the door behind me and finally look back over my shoulder. When I get inside my dorm, there’s a mess in the sink. Actually, there’s a mess everywhere. You see, my roommates aren’t exactly reliable. They don’t seem to mind the idea of living in filth, but I can’t stand a dirty living space. So, I spend the next hour cleaning even when I so desperately want to shower and scrub the smell of cheap tequila off of me. Then, and only then, do I get in the shower. I did, thankfully, pick this school specifically because the dorms each have their own bathrooms, so I’m lucky enough to not have to worry about hauling a butt-load of things halfway across the school.
Once I'm certain I no longer smell like a beer-belly dad who picks corn out of his teeth and rubs his belly in his free time, I throw on my Pj’s, brush my teeth, and head to bed. That night, I sleep better than I've slept in days. Weeks, even.
When I wake up the next morning at around 9:00 AM (which is a strangely normal time for me, might I add), I make myself tea, go back to my room, and immediately pull out my laptop & begin searching for my next ‘job’. Okay, fine– I'm trying to find somewhere to steal something. I’m practically a disney villain; I hate doing this part. Actually, I hate every part of my ‘job’. Whatever: I don’t have time to complain. I need to figure out my financial situation, STAT.
After a couple hours, I find what seems like a pretty high profile event. “‘H.A.A.’ is all the site provides on the name of the event. I would like to start a petition to permanently remove all acronyms from the world– they’re cryptic and annoying. I click on a link. It’s an auction, and the items they're selling look like they could go for a lot; The starting bid for one painting– a painting of, believe it or not, a singular red dot, is $5,000. Cartoon money signs start to rotate around my head and I do my best to keep my tongue from lolling out.
And, the dress code is–I click on a link labeled “H.A.A dress code”– Strictly dresses and coat & tie. Shit– I don’t even know if I own a nice dress. I check the date;-- today at 7:00 PM, before booking a seat towards the back of the auction house and rooting through my closet to find a dress. After fumbling around for a while, I find an old dress from my high school graduation. It's red with spaghetti straps and hugs tight to my abdomen, but flares out and frames my legs with little ruffles. The back of the dress is much longer than the front– almost like a train, hitting my calves, while the front only hits around my mid-thigh. The back also has a big, swooping neckline that falls down as far as my butt, leaving my back almost entirely exposed.
It was kind of flattering on me back then, so I guess it’ll work. I toss it to the side and decide to rot in bed until 6:30.
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When the time rolls around, I reluctantly put my phone down and start getting ready. The first thing I do is hop in the shower and scrub my hair. Then, I dry it with a towel until it’s damp, style it with leave-in conditioner & mousse, finger curl, and diffuse it. Now, my curls look more promising than my future. Which, admittedly, doesn’t say a lot. Whatever– the sentiment is still there, and I look fabulous. Or, at least I'm about to. Still dressed in an oversized Batman T-shirt, I snatch my makeup bag from the counter and open it, peering inside like I'm a pirate who’s just discovered a pot of jewels.
Just after I apply eye shadow– a nice, gold, shimmering shade– and eyelash clusters to the corners of my eyes, I hear a rhythmic knock on my door from outside. One of my roommates opens the door, and I set my makeup down to see who it is. Rounding the corner, I catch a small glimpse of Jackie, pleasantly talking to Capri, my roommate. She catches sight of me and raises an eyebrow, looking me up and down. At the sight of her sudden silence, Capri turns to look at me, too. A supportive smile falls across Capri’s face, while a knowing smirk grows across Jackie's.
“You look…” Starts Capri, crossing her arms and tilting her head.
“Stunning,” Jackie finishes.
“Why, thank you.” I give them an exaggerated curtsy, grabbing the edges of my T-shirt and bending over. Capri shrugs and walks back into her room as Jackie walks towards me like a beast planning her attack. She’s going to ask questions, and I know that, so I bolt into my room and try to slam the door shut. She runs at the speed of light after me, and with a small zip sound, she’s behind me in my room just after I shut the door. I keep forgetting she can do that. 15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYWZPoksQNR
“You’re not getting away that easy,” She states dismissively while she flops onto my bed, resting her head on her hands & staring at the ceiling. I accept defeat and take a seat on my desk chair. “So,” She starts again, turning her head to look at me, grinning. “Where are you going tonight?” I groan and flop my head back in response. “Yeah, real funny, Jackie. You know where I'm going.”
“You’re right,” She says, finally sitting up on the bed. “I know what you’re doing and who you’re going to see, but I don’t know where you’re going.” A fair point. “First of all,” I preface, “We don’t know if he’ll be there for sure, and second, I’m going to an auction about thirty minutes out.” Jackie examines my face as if trying to figure out something. “What?” I ask. “If you see any kind of end-table at the auction, can you steal it for me? My nightstand broke like a week ago and I don’t trust my good friend Ikea to provide me with another replacement.” I quench my lips and fold my hands in my lap, thinking. “You know I'm not supposed to–”
Jackie tries to bat her eyelashes at me but ends up looking like she’s having a stroke– because, let's be honest, who really knows how to bat their eyelashes– and holds her hands up at me like she’s praying. “Puh-LEASE!!!” She says, pleading.
I let out a tired exhale. “Fine,” I say finally. “I have to go and finish my makeup now.” As soon as the words leave my lips, she jumps up from the bed and places her hand on my shoulder while she’s walking towards my bathroom. “You’re a good friend,” She states, not looking back at me even once.
Once i’ve applied a dark, velvety shade of red lipstick to my lips, I throw on my dress, say goodbye to Jackie, and barely make it to my car, which is now back from the shop (My tire blew out on the interstate, and i’m trying my best not to remember it), at 6:40. I bring a large black purse with me, which carries my cloak, black leggings, a black sweatshirt, and my mask. I drive my beat-up bug for thirty minutes and park it in a parking lot in front of the auction house. It’s full of sleek, black, fancy cars that are so shiny the light bounces off of them like lasers, And I have to force myself not to look at the remodeled 56’ Chevrolet by the entrance.
The sun is finally setting, and dusk is just around the corner. I pull out my phone and pull up the QR code for the ticket, along with my bid number, and my photo ID. The man at the entrance looks me up and down before taking my phone, comparing my ID with my face, and finally scanning the code, handing me my ID back.
When I get inside, I wait my turn to set my bag, along with my phone and ID, on a conveyor belt and walk through a metal detector. Since I have no metal on me or in my purse, I’m cleared to go in. I grab everything from the conveyor belt and make my way to my seat.
Just before I can sit down, though, I'm approached by a group of– well, let’s just say unique, and frankly very round– looking men. They’re all at least ten years older than me, and I shiver, allowing myself to hope that they’re not coming to talk to me.
To my demise, I soon discover that they are, collectively, coming to talk to me. This can’t be good.
“Hey there, beautiful,” One of them starts, smirking and looking me up and down. Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, and did I mention ew? This is so disgusting & revolting that I can't stand to look at any of them for any longer. I begin to speed walk away, hoping to lose them in the crowd, but one of them wraps their sausage-fingers around my arm, nails digging into my skin. I wince in pain, yank my arm away and continue to back away until I reach an empty hall (and hopefully an exit), when my back hits a wall. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT!!
Okay, think, Millie. You’ve made it out of worse. Think, Think, Think, Think, Think, Think, Think, Think, Think, Think, Think, Think, Think, Think, Think, Think, Think, Think– Come on; THINK!
My eyes immediately draw towards one of their faces. I train my face to not show any fear as I evaluate the situation. There aren’t many, if any people around, so I'm on my own. 1v6, huh? Not great odds. Maybe I'm overthinking things– they might not want to start a fight. They could let me go easily if I stand up to them. “Just come with us,” One of them says, “It’ll be fun.”
I cringe and do my best not to contort my face in disgust. “No, thank you,” I manage elegantly, trying to push my way in-between two of them. I only get halfway out before one of them puts their grimey hands on my bare back, gripping my wrist. And it… burns. Like, actually. It feels like someone’s touched my back with a searing hot metal rod. I turn around to see him smiling, his eyes glowing an unsettling yellow color. “Oh, come on,” He says, sneering, “Don’t be like that,”
This is what sets me off. I whip around, Purse in hand, and smack him right in the face. He cups his face in his hands, momentarily stunned. “You’re going to regret that, little miss,” says one of them from behind me. Little miss? Seriously? Of all the names he could have called me? This is some next level Disney-Channel villain behavior. He throws a sloppy, predictable punch, and I easily dodge it by crouching down and sweeping his legs from under him with my leg. When he falls, he lands on top of two others, who fall like bowling pins. Mind you, I'm doing this all in heels.
Suddenly, someone grabs me from behind in a hold I can’t break. Super strength. Damnit. The other three are closing in on me now, knuckles cracking. Again with the Disney Channel villain shit? I knock my head back and am about to nail him in the head when someone walks into the empty hallway with annoying ease.
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Oh, you have got to be kidding me.
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What is he doing here? Cy doesn’t even flinch when he sees me, and it takes me a second to register that I’m not currently dressed as Gloom. Right now, I'm just Millie– a broke college student who also apparently has the time to go to auctions on the occasional Wednesday. Yeah, hopefully he doesn’t ask about that. What this also means that I can’t fight back, solely because I don’t think I could take on three guys twice as big as me and then proceed to bat my eyelashes and play it off as self-defense. He never shows up anywhere outside of hero work, so why choose now to show up in public?
Damnnit– Cy crashes the party once again. And I was just starting to have some fun. Because of my momentary distraction, I take a pathetic blow to the face. God, chivalry really is dead. Tears spring up in my eyes from the impact to my nose. The metallic taste of what is, unmistakably, blood from a nosebleed, seeps through my lips and hits my tongue.
“See,” The man who continues to hold me tightly from behind starts, breathing down my neck. He smells like rotten tuna. I shutter, and he runs his fingers up my neck. “You’re outnumbered. If you would just—”
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Thwack!
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The man releases his vice grip on my neck, and I let out a sigh of relief, allowing myself to close my eyes and straighten out my neck. Hey, I'm just making lemonade here– I just had to play damel so my literal worst enemy could save me from a group of creepy men. I might as well stall for a bit. I open my eyes in time to see the two remaining men fall in what seems a synchronized pattern, both of their eyes lolling into the back of their heads. Cy stands behind me, casually staring down at the man who once stood behind me on the floor; he didn’t even have to touch the other two. If he has this kind of power, a part of me wonders… Is he not catching Gloom on purpose? What motive does he have? What happens if he does catch me?
Finally, I decide to face my fears and turn around with my best smile. As I turn, he faces me. “Thank–” I start reluctantly, when I’m interrupted with a rather painful blow to the head from behind me. It’s one of the men I took out myself, just now deciding to come back for seconds. Saved by the bell, some stubborn part of me screams from deep in my soul as I watch the world blur, flickers of jarring blues, greens, and reds crowding my vision. My mouth feels like it’s full of gum, and my head feels fuzzy. Oh, absolutely not. I am NOT about to pass out! Not after one punch…
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…
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When I wake up, a crowd has formed around me. It actually takes me a hot second to adjust to the light and discern the insistent ringing in my ears from the chatter of voices. I squint my eyes, still not quite able to see much of anything. Some guy (I’m honestly not conscious enough to figure out who right now) shakes me, gripping my arms like my life depends on it. “Millie.” He sounds distant, muffled. “Millie!” This time I hear him loud and clear. Maybe a bit too loud. He smells strongly of pine and eucalyptus, and it overrides my senses.
“Aw, jeez, man– I’m not dying.” I don’t really feel like I can open my own eyes right now, but somehow, I manage to croak that out. I don’t realize I’ve said that out loud until someone responds with a whispered “thank god,”, placing her hand on my back and helping me up along with around three-fucking-hundred other people. Seriously, the oldest man alive wouldn't even need this much assistance. My eyes finally adjust and fall on the man who was leaning over me a second ago. You know– eucalyptus man. Turns out my eucalyptus man was actually Cy. I’ve never seen him that worried for anyone, ever. My arms still have marks from how hard he was shaking me and— wait. Did he call me Millie? He stares back at me, narrowing his eyes and raising his eyebrows before giving me a small side smile. He turns away before I can ask:
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How the hell does he know my name?
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((OK MOTIVATION IS BACK I THINK TY FOR WAITING 2 MONTHS! *MWAH*))
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