eight

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I spend the next morning walking up and down the side streets of LA which is safe to say it's a bust.

there's no signs of pirate but ive run into too many stupid stray dogs, none of which answered to the name mattress.

I still have some time before I have my afternoon shift at 10,000 hours and im praying billie isn't there.

I am not looking forward to seeing her again.

ugh just thinking about her makes me wanna punch something.

or someone.

I throw away my slurpie cup in the trash and keep walking down the street, making my way the opposite way to where ive been walking.

across the street is a vintage clothing store with mannequins in the window which look older than I am.

when I step inside, theres a bell over the door which rings and is audible over the pop music playing over the speakers.

the shop is dimly lit with a musty scent, all of the clothes being tightly packed together because there's so much shit in here.

I scan my eyes over the store and realise there's only one person in the store other then me, sitting by the register at the back.

I spot a rail of black clothes near the counter.

bingo.

some of hem smell funky and have unusual stains on them and a few are way too ugly for my taste but there's dozens of options here to choose from.

halfway through the rack I find a vintage looking black leather jacket which looks like the perfect oversized fit.

on the way to the counter i find a beautiful looking belt which I pick up too.

I pay the girl at the register and while she's ringing me up, the bell over the door rings.

crap it's z.

"what's up mama" z smirks, lazily sliding up to the cash register, talking with the cashier while she collects my change.

I glance up at her face and she's got deep under eye bags, wide eyes and sunken in cheekbones.

somethings off.

ive never really looked at they look like they're sick.

"I told you not to bother me at work z" the cashier says to z.

"yeah well it's an emergency, I need you to help a brother out"

"not now" she spits, accidentally dropping the change onto the floor, silently cursing at herself.

z puts their hands on the counter and leans closer, watching as the cashier bends down to collect the change scattered on the floor.

"please man, I wouldn't ask if I wasn't desperate"

"I thought-"

z cuts her off with a heavy sigh. "I know I just need a little"

hello? do they know this conversation isn't private?

"it's just for today I promise"

"that's what you said last week" the cashier argues, finally handing me my change.

"come on baby"

the cashier runs her hands through her hair and sighs "ill make a call, it'll be a couple of hours"

I turn to leave but z turns to me, leaning against the counter with a smirk.

"hi there pretty girl"

I don't reply and I can feel her looking over me while I take the bag with my coat inside, shoving my change in my pocket.

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