“You were great tonight, Charlotte,” suppressing a grimace at the sound of her full name, Charlie smiled and picked up her guitar case from the ground. The spiky haired man, who was standing on the top steps that led into the hole in the wall bar, was looking down at her with sparkling green eyes. The smile on his lips was the same cocky grin that he had worn the day Char had met him, when she had been just seventeen. “Thank you, Mitch.” The tone of her voice was cautioning, yet light hearted as she waved a hand slightly towards him backing away without a second thought. Being around him spurred to many old memories that she figured were best left buried deep under the shed. “Hey, wait!” His voice, and the hand that snaked gently around her forearm, stopped her as she moved to leave. Charlie sighed, a sound that was completely exhausted and almost a little sad. “Mitch, I have to go...” “Yeah, I know. Just, Char...” He let go of her and crossed his arms over his chest. He could have been defiant had it not been for the soft, almost caring, expression written all over his features. “I just wanted to say that I-I’m sorry for... well y’know.” Yeah, [i]she knew[/i]. He was sorry for cheating, sorry for being an ass their entire relationship, sorry for screwing [i]everything[/i] up. “Just, lemme make it up to you.” He was pulling a small black object from his pocket, the iphone screen lit up to a picture of him holding a beer can and grinning goofily at the camera. It had been taken at the bar, she could tell. The rack of old liquors in the background was one of the many small charms that made people return to this dump every week. “Here’s my personal number.” He rattled off a bunch of random numbers that Charlie didn’t even bother trying to remember. “We should go out for coffee, why don’t you call me tomorrow and we can set up a time?” Charlie pursed her lips. “I, oh...” She couldn’t help but smile a little. There had been a time in her life when Charlie would have killed for a date with Mitch Warton, a time when she had thrown herself at the smart, handsome bar owner just like every young girl trying to make it in her business did. But that time in her life had past, quite disastrously, and as she stared at that cocky smile with that confident build she just felt sorry for him. Mitch would be standing on this stoop for the rest of his life, trying to pick up on the newest, prettiest young girl. He would never settle down, never have any kind of stable family. He was doomed to this bar, to this night, she as much as she was... just as much as Mila was. Charlie shivered. “Not this time.” Her hoarse voice was barely a whisper as she backed away. “I’m sorry.” But really, she wasn’t. She gripped the guitar case tightly in her hand and briskly walked through the darkened streets. Knowing what she did, Charlie should have been scared of this never ending black that threatened to swallow her like the throat of some unholy monster. But Char had faced monsters, both the real and fictional kinds, and despite the fact that she should have been absolutely terrified she could hardly muster a small cautiousness as she slowly sauntered towards home. [i]Home.[/i] She loathed her apartment, despite the fact that there was no longer any monsters lurking in the corners there. It was only her, alone with her thoughts that were worse than any beast that life could throw her way. A fierce wind caused her to shudder violently and she reached up to rub her arms that were full of gooseflesh. Her head was down and she watched her feet beat against the gritty pavement. Charlie’s downcast eyes flickered suddenly when [i]something[/i] caught her attention. Something familiar, something startling enough to make her stop dead in her tracks. “Mi-” She stopped herself, clenching her teeth painfully shut and tightening her grip on the guitar case. ‘You’re just seeing things again, shut up.’ Her inner thoughts warned her. It wasn’t implausible to think that she was seeing [i]that woman[/i] when she wasn’t really there. Too many times in the past couple of days she had to double take on someone with pale skin and dark hair, and each time that person was not who she was subconsciously looking for, a hole in the pit of Charlie’s stomach would widen and grow denser with unease. She would tell herself that this hole was from fear, from an undeniable terror that Mila would come back into her life again but the truth was much more bleak than that humane response. The truth was that Charlie missed her... and [i]that[/i] was the real terror here. She blinked her eyes tightly, trying to clear her muddled thoughts, and continued towards her empty home, humming a soft song under her breath. --- Lisette was standing casually, a little ways away from Mila and Booker. Her impartial eyes snapped up when Booker’s voice interrupted the night. [i]“Looks like I’d better hurry, too, so Mila can get another fix before she gets cranky again. Guess she didn’t get quite enough to become her high and mighty self after all.”[/i] Lisette grinned towards him. “Oh look at you, Booker!” She giggled and shook her head. “Looking out for a friend, how generous you are. You’re such a [i]good[/i] person.” Her gaze flickered to watch Mila. [i]”Lisette, I was just telling her that she really should feel at home with us. We could have this much fun all the time.”[/i] “Now wouldn’t that just be wonderful.” Her voice raised in mock excitement and her hands clapped together once as the trio walked with unearthly silence through the streets. The night was almost completely dead now, but if you knew where to look you could still find the unlucky fools who dared to grace the streets at this hour. Lisette watched Booker carefully, seeing the tell tale signs that he had found his prey even before he spoke. [i]“Hm, sounds like an unhappy couple, think I should try to mediate?”[/i] Lisette didn’t say anything as her curious gaze snapped in the direction of the arguing voices. The young couple seemed to be in a heated argument that looked to be going nowhere pleasant as Booker slyly intervened. There was fascination in Lisette’s grim eyes. Where she toyed a little, Booker toyed [i]a lot[/i] and it was always amusing to watch his little games before he frenzied like a wild animal. Her lips curled into a devious smirk and she looked towards Mila standing just a few paces away from her. It was easy enough to close the distance between them so that Lisette was once again evading the concept of personal space. “So did I hear Booker mention pets? Mila that is so five decades ago!” She scoffed and clucked her tongue with disappointment. “No wonder you’re so weak, poor thing. I guess you really did need us.” She patted the other woman’s stony shoulder softly, withdrawing her hand when Booker turned around with a bloodied muzzle. “Now what would your mother think!” She called giddily watching his toothy, blood filled grin with delight. “Clean yourself off before I’m forced to do it for you and let’s go. Poor Mi over here is still [i]starved[/i].” She lowered her voice from a shout and eyed Mila dangerously. “And don’t be afraid to go for it all this time, honey. We can clean up the mess.” The sordid smile that had formed on her face only grew wider as she observed the tense banter between Mila and Booker ending with their acquaintance walking hastily through the night. Lisette watched her going and finally glanced towards Booker with a lazy salute. “Oh, Bookie.” Her voice was still taunting when she addressed him, but there was a certain underlying affection that made her jeers seem less cruel. “You have a little something right there.” She murmured, wiping at the blood on his chin. Her eyes studied his face for a moment, dark and glistening malevolently. “Do you think she’ll stay?” Lisette asked with a thick voice as she scrutinized Mila walking a little ways in front of them. [i]“I think I heard something over this way. Come on.”[/i] Lisette turned her head, ears peaked towards the direction Mila had said. “I don’t hear anyone...” She murmured, straining to hear. “Are you sure, Mila? I mean let’s get real you are a little off game tonight, l-love.” Her voice stuttered when the sound of soft singing wafted towards them. “Oh. Well...” An unpleasant smirk, that held none of her usual exuberant dolefulness, grew on her lips as both her eyebrows raised curiously. It wasn’t lost to her sharp, yet devastatingly morbid, mind that the singing was coming from the direction Mila had just abandoned. She glanced upward at Booker with a smug expression. “Mila, sweetheart, are you sure it wasn’t that way you meant?” Her hand slowly raised in the direction of the voice. “Let’s go see who it is...”