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Everything hurt. Everything. Alex woke to find that he was in agony.
Except for that one little patch on his back that had somehow avoided
the pain. He focused on that, tried to use it to fool his body into
thinking he was OK. Once the initial shock of the pain had subsided,
Alex prised his eye open. Far too much daylight in the room. This
wasn’t his flat, clearly - he had blackouts up until about twelve. He
was on a sofa, sleeping under his leather jacket. Who’s sofa though?
“I see you’re waking up. Want a cuppa?”
“Unless it’s got morphine in it, no th- fuck it, yes please.” Alex sat
up with difficulty, swinging his legs round and planting them on the
floor. He slipped on his leather jacket and yawned.
“Moss, what did you do to me last night?”
“Funny.” Spoons clattered in the kitchen.
“Seriously though, what happened? You called me to come with you on a
story... it was in the tenements... and we ran into Marco, and fuck.”
“‘Fuck I just remembered’ or ‘Fuck my booze-addled mind can’t remember
anything else’?” Harry prompted, handing him a mug.
“Nope, nothing. And I’m not booze-addled.”
“We ran into Marco’s boss. And then one of Marco’s boss’ rivals showed
up. Stuff heated up. You tried to defuse things. You kind of did -
they stopped fighting each other for a while, at least.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. Didn’t think it was a good idea to leave you at home alone.”
“Fair enough. Well, thanks for looking after me.” Alex paused. “Fuck,
it’s just come back to me. Did I really appeal to their ‘sense of
brotherhood’?”
“‘Fraid so.”
***
Alex had never really counted on having to go into hiding. The City
was smaller than you thought, and everyone seemed to recognise him.
But when he jumped out into the road, heart pounding, narrowly
avoiding a car-induced death, all to avoid the shadow of an alley-cat,
he knew the drug bosses had won. They had got into his head.
Except for that one little patch on his back that had somehow avoided
the pain. He focused on that, tried to use it to fool his body into
thinking he was OK. Once the initial shock of the pain had subsided,
Alex prised his eye open. Far too much daylight in the room. This
wasn’t his flat, clearly - he had blackouts up until about twelve. He
was on a sofa, sleeping under his leather jacket. Who’s sofa though?
“I see you’re waking up. Want a cuppa?”
“Unless it’s got morphine in it, no th- fuck it, yes please.” Alex sat
up with difficulty, swinging his legs round and planting them on the
floor. He slipped on his leather jacket and yawned.
“Moss, what did you do to me last night?”
“Funny.” Spoons clattered in the kitchen.
“Seriously though, what happened? You called me to come with you on a
story... it was in the tenements... and we ran into Marco, and fuck.”
“‘Fuck I just remembered’ or ‘Fuck my booze-addled mind can’t remember
anything else’?” Harry prompted, handing him a mug.
“Nope, nothing. And I’m not booze-addled.”
“We ran into Marco’s boss. And then one of Marco’s boss’ rivals showed
up. Stuff heated up. You tried to defuse things. You kind of did -
they stopped fighting each other for a while, at least.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. Didn’t think it was a good idea to leave you at home alone.”
“Fair enough. Well, thanks for looking after me.” Alex paused. “Fuck,
it’s just come back to me. Did I really appeal to their ‘sense of
brotherhood’?”
“‘Fraid so.”
***
Alex had never really counted on having to go into hiding. The City
was smaller than you thought, and everyone seemed to recognise him.
But when he jumped out into the road, heart pounding, narrowly
avoiding a car-induced death, all to avoid the shadow of an alley-cat,
he knew the drug bosses had won. They had got into his head.
Friend In Need
Oct. 10th, 2010 10:14 pmSkip the before-last step, it’s about to shatter. Button up coat before leaving, since it’s raining. Again. Alex rummaged in his pockets for a cigarette, and once it was clamped in between his lips, shoved the door open with his shoulder. It was heavy, and the hinges screeched. He had left his iPod at home. Sod’s law dictated he would now get stuck in an elevator on his own for a week or something.
Water was dripping from the gutter. It was leaking all over the place, had been for weeks now. Alex added it to the list of things he needed to get fixed without people noticing it was broken. He fumbled with the lighter for a while, struggling to light his cigarette in the face of gusts of wind and rain.
Narrowing his eyes and turning up his collar, Alex walked down the steps and onto the pavement. It was really tipping it down. He glanced at his watch. The last bus had left five minutes ago.
“Alex!”
“Harry? Fuck are you doing here?”
“Reporting, remember? How are you?” Kissy-kissy, stand back, judge. Alex suddenly remembered he hadn’t shaved in ages.
“Same old. But seriously, it’s getting late. How’re you getting home?”
“Getting late? What, you think it’s not safe?” Harry snorted.
“Off the record?”
“Maybe.”
Alex scowled. At that moment, three young men sloped out of an alley.
“Marco, go home, will you? You’ll catch a cold.”
Two of them sniggered at the third, who made an unpleasant gesture at Alex.
“Ah, worried I’ll get mugged, eh? I can handle a few youths, don’t worry.”
“Not Marco I’m worried about. Come on. Let’s go.” Alex laid a firm hand on her shoulder and propelled her towards the exit of the cul-de-sac.
“Well, alright then, let’s. How you getting back?”
Alex squirmed for a moment.
“Left the car at home. Kinda hoping you could give me a lift, actually.”
“Aha! Sounds like someone needs a favour.”
“I’ll walk it if you push me too far.”
“You’ll have to put that out, though.” Harry jerked a thumb at his cigarette. Alex shot her a disgruntled look and then spat the cigarette skywards, grinding it under his heel as he walked over it.
“Classy.”
“One more fag-end isn’t going to tip the block into disrepair, is it? That ship sailed long ago.”
Next Bingo Square: Beauty
Water was dripping from the gutter. It was leaking all over the place, had been for weeks now. Alex added it to the list of things he needed to get fixed without people noticing it was broken. He fumbled with the lighter for a while, struggling to light his cigarette in the face of gusts of wind and rain.
Narrowing his eyes and turning up his collar, Alex walked down the steps and onto the pavement. It was really tipping it down. He glanced at his watch. The last bus had left five minutes ago.
“Alex!”
“Harry? Fuck are you doing here?”
“Reporting, remember? How are you?” Kissy-kissy, stand back, judge. Alex suddenly remembered he hadn’t shaved in ages.
“Same old. But seriously, it’s getting late. How’re you getting home?”
“Getting late? What, you think it’s not safe?” Harry snorted.
“Off the record?”
“Maybe.”
Alex scowled. At that moment, three young men sloped out of an alley.
“Marco, go home, will you? You’ll catch a cold.”
Two of them sniggered at the third, who made an unpleasant gesture at Alex.
“Ah, worried I’ll get mugged, eh? I can handle a few youths, don’t worry.”
“Not Marco I’m worried about. Come on. Let’s go.” Alex laid a firm hand on her shoulder and propelled her towards the exit of the cul-de-sac.
“Well, alright then, let’s. How you getting back?”
Alex squirmed for a moment.
“Left the car at home. Kinda hoping you could give me a lift, actually.”
“Aha! Sounds like someone needs a favour.”
“I’ll walk it if you push me too far.”
“You’ll have to put that out, though.” Harry jerked a thumb at his cigarette. Alex shot her a disgruntled look and then spat the cigarette skywards, grinding it under his heel as he walked over it.
“Classy.”
“One more fag-end isn’t going to tip the block into disrepair, is it? That ship sailed long ago.”
Next Bingo Square: Beauty
