[b]Maria - The Florence/alley/her apartment[/b]

Maria smoked as she waited, glancing at her watch and swearing repeatedly under her breath. The longer she stayed out here the more risk there was that she was going to be caught. The last thing she needed was for Harry to find her buying drugs. The Fallen Angels hated drugs in their city, but hey technically she wasn't a member of the Angels. Plus Harry wasn't her father so he could kiss her tight caramel ass.

Finally the seller came around the corner. Needless to say he was highly nervous about making a sell behind The Florence. But money talked and she got what she wanted and he quickly disappeared like the rat he was.

Maria closed her hand around the small packet in her hand. It wasn't much, but it would be enough to make her numb to reality for a while. And if she mixed it with some tequila...
Yes she knew what she was doing was dangerous. But honestly, she didn't really care. No one particularly cared about her. She had never really belonged in a group. She had tried to belong in the Fallen Angels, but that obviously was not going to happen. Maria had hoped that maybe she could belong with the guy who had become one of her best friends, but now that was shot to hell too. And the moron didn't even realize. He was too caught up in a fairytale romance with the princess to notice a [i]punta[/i] like her in the background.
She was like the moon and the [i]princessa[/i] was like the sun : when the sun is out, the moon is invisible.

Maria felt the blackness taking over her heart, squeezing it tightly. She shoved the packet in her pocket and stomped on her cigarette. Time to play sick.

--

It didn't take much to convince Jasmine. She was a sweet person who was automatically concerned and insisted Maria go home. And after stopping off for a bottle of tequlia she went straight there.

Slamming the door shut, she threw on the dead bolt and tossed her jacket aside. Her apartment was a mess, but she didn't feel like cleaning it. She felt like crashing. So that was what she did.

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The packet was opened along with the bottle of tequlia. Thankfully it didn't take long for it to start working together in delicious harmony. It was actually quite beautiful, how the combined efforts of drugs and alcohol made you just not give a shit about anything or anyone.

Things got blurry and far away. Maria was flying high above everything. What had been upsetting her so much? What had been weighing her heart down so? Tony? Let him have his [i]princessa[/i]. What did she care? Maria was no [i]princessa[/i] and she never would be.
Men always wanted the [i]angeles[/i], the pretty girls, the soft and cute and sweet barbie dolls. Men didn't want Maria for anything more then a one night stand, rough sex and no calls afterward.

Maria started to laugh for no particular reason. She laughed until she cried. She wandered around her apartment. She slammed her fist into a wall, making a dent. Her hand hurt like hell, probably broken, but it felt good to her mind. She walked around drinking out of the tequila bottle while breaking things : a picture of her and Tony outside the bar, a statue of an angel Isabelle had given her, pictures of the Fallen Angels, glasses and empty bottles, mirrors... 

Soon the apartment was littered with glass, bits of wood and plastic. Maria sat in the middle of it, rocking and laughing to herself. She ran her hands thorugh her hair repeatedly, messing it up. She looked like a crazy person. Maybe that was what she was.
She smiled.
But she felt good...
very, very good...

Looking up, she stared at the fan blades above her head. They were spinning so fast. It was funny how fast they were going. Why did fans spin so fast? She followed the blades with her head, her entire upper body moving in a circle until she was so dizzy she fell down, cutting her arms and feet on broken glass.
Frowning at the stinging interuppting her good feeling, she tried to get up on the bed but only managed to fall back down.

Laying on the floor, she held the nearly empty bottle of tequila with the nearly empty packet nearby.
Maybe she'd go out and find a [i]gringo[/i] to fuck. The best way to get over someone was to get under someone else. She'd fuck a [i]gringo[/i] that looked way hotter than Tony, who was way better. Screw Tony and his [i]princessa[/i]! Once he got tired of the vanilla and virtue life he'd come crawling to her for some caramel and sin. And she'd tell him to kiss her ass! No... she'd tell him to kiss Harry's old hairy ass! Maybe that's why his name was Harry. Harry... Hairy... made sense.

That was what she would do...

Damn Tony.
Damn Harry.
Damn Fallen Angels.
Damn Crown City.
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