own our worst behavior >> theo&venus

v e n u s    g a u l t i e r   .

The tequila's playing with my mind - I want to go home! How long have I even been here? God, why do I always do this. 

Bella Noches is home to all the beauties like me, delicious little sirens hiding behind the smog of the lower district. It's a secret cove of trans girls, angel night means we drink for free so that means I've been drunk for hours. Sorry, but can you blame me? I'm going to have such a headache in the morning, so right now I'm dancing with this boy who has the confidence of a much taller man. His hands are on my hips, my back to his chest, he crushes one of my wings. Ugh, watch it, these things aren't cheap! 

Nothing about me is. I've been one expensive girl since Ainara showed me how to get away with it. Remember, just steal the small things! Oh fuck, am I crying? The music is so loud I swear it's messing with the rhythm of my heart beat. I swear I'll be here all night if it means finding a man with a wallet worth treating right. The boy's hands are getting tighter and tighter on me and I feel like I'm going to vomit, who does he think he is?

It all goes away once I make it to the bathroom, the music fades and the green light kicks on. A shallow buzz my ambience as I try to save what's left of my make up - I don't know why I keep crying so much. It comes out of nowhere, he looked just as shocked as I did when my mascara started running. I can hear some suspicious noises coming from one of the stalls but I mind my business the best I can. That's a first for me, I'm usually so eager to stick my nose where it doesn't belong. 

But it definitely doesn't belong there. 

When I come back out, the dance floor's even more sparse than I remember. It's getting late, but I'm not finished until the lights come on. What else will I do with my time? I didn't get dressed up just to go home alone, so I run my hands across each patron from the bar to the back of the smoker's section. I practically gasp when I see him, Theodore Horner, speaking to a pair of nobodies. I can't say I know who they are, just that I know they aren't me. 

I tap on his shoulder twice. He ignores me, twice, so I squeeze myself between him and the cohorts heckling my man, shooing them off with my rhinestoned gloves before I turn to him. "If it isn't Mr. Bring-Honor-to-the-District," I say, hands on my thighs as I flick on the charm of an eighteen year old gold digger. "You don't know me yet," yet, but he will, "but I can be your personal vixen, baby." 

Read it carefully: I'll take everything.