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writing-by-katt · 1 year

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Chapter 1: Fight or Die Well

The flash of short blonde hair is all that can be seen as a short figure sprints through the after-school crowd. The figure shoves harshly into a tall figure before leaving them sprawled on the concrete. The man gazes at her with rage, scrambling to his feet. He sprints after the short girl, following her to a dead-end between buildings.

Surrounded by three tall brick walls in an empty space, the girl can do nothing but stand and fight. Her breathing is ragged as the tall, suited, man stalks toward her with laterally stretched arms. His aviator sunglasses and shiny brown cowboy boots are an odd pairing for his completely denim suit.

“It kind of fits the outfit tho…Maybe add a bolo tie or a bandana and cowboy hat and we have inner-city chic meets hicksville.” She thinks.

The tall not-quite-cowboy takes a slow drag from a new cigarette before addressing her with a puff of smoke. “Now, ahm sure ya didn’t mean anything by knocking me down lil’ lady.”

He leans down slightly, “But….ah am not a man to be trifled with. And ya? Ya lack manners.”

The blonde backs up a step as the man’s tone grows darker. He is looking at her with wolfish eyes and using his body to keep her trapped in the ally. She has a few choices, she thinks. One, kick him in the balls and hope he goes down. Two, go straight for the eyes. Three, sock him directly in the jaw and hope she doesn’t kill him if he does go down. There is no way she can make it past him without him grabbing her and she can’t scale the walls, they’re too high and any objects in the ally are entirely unhelpful.

“So this is how it’s going to be,” she thinks. Her eyes dart to the man’s when she speaks, “...I apologize sir. I should’ve been more careful when I was-”

“NO! Ya do not get to apologize now! Ah am speakin’ lil’ lady. Ya disrespectful little bitch,” He snarls, “Look at how ya mucked up my suit. This costs more than yer life is worth! Now, I want some form of compensation, or are ya too stupid to figure that one out lil’ lady?”

Icy blue eyes widen and her breath hitches. Her words are caught in her throat as her mind reels with ways this could end. Thinking quickly she asks, “What do you mean by com-excuse me,” she clears her throat,” compensation…sir? I, ehem, don’t have much money.”

“Now lil’ lady, ah am a gentleman. So ah’ll let’cha off with a warning if ya empty yer backpack there an give me anything of value ya have.” The man pulls a medium-sized hunting knife from his belt. The handle is a mahogany color with silver etchings and a sharp silver blade. “If ya have nothing of value….I can just gut ya like the fish ya are and we’ll call it even. Sound like a deal?”

The blonde nods, slowly grabbing her bag from her shoulder and taking a few steps toward the man. She looks him in the eye before swinging her bag with all her might at his head, successfully knocking him down for a second time.

The cowboy man spews curses before she curb-stomps him and runs out of the ally.

Heart thudding, she brushes past two people in black outfits with generic ball caps covering their faces. One wears a bomber jacket and the other a leather one. The two stand there sharing a shocked glance before spinning on their heels, calling out her name.

As the two give chase, the girl notices the time, 4:15, she’s late. Her lungs scream for air and her muscles ache but she can’t stop running now. As the trio ducks through crowds of people, the girl starts to slow, fatigue clearly starting to take its toll.

“Just a little further” She pants lowly. She spots a densely packed crowd near an ally, but her way is blocked by an average-height man, covered in tattoos. He is stocky and muscular in build and watches her through purple-tinted sunglasses. His floppy hair moves as he steps aside for her to make her way through the ally, ‘accidentally’ blocking the two giving chase. The tattooed man smirks, pulling out his phone to make a call. His boss is going to love this.

The girl doesn’t even spare him a glance as she sprints down an ally before leaping onto a dumpster and climbing the wall, losing her pursuers.

The winded undercover cops, wheeze curses at the girl as they realize they lost her.

The girl can hear their wheezing as she catches her breath on the other side of the wall. She takes a peek at her appearance in the reflection of shop windows as she makes her way to the nearest Mooncents coffee shop. Lucky for her, the cops don’t seem to know that she recently got an after-school job as a barista. Unlucky for her, she hit that one tall person really hard, and her shoulder fricken smarts.

“That’s definitely going to bruise” She mumbles to herself.

The glass door creaks softly as she slips into the cafe. She apologizes to her boss for being late before making her way to the bathroom to change from her school uniform into a white tank top with black joggers and her beat-up old platform Converse. They’re tearing at the seams and literally falling apart but they’re comfortable and it isn’t like she can afford new shoes for work anyway. The blonde was right. Her left shoulder sports a large purple mark that is darkening by the minute. No wonder it hurt so much.

“Holy shit Carina! What’d you do, try to break down a door!?” Her coworker Miles chirps as she emerges from the back, tying her apron.

“Oh shut up Miles! You can’t break down a door with your front. I may or may not have completely shoulder-checked some dude on my way here.” Carina gives Miles a lopsided smile as she washes her hands.

“Oi Carina, I want you to cover on bar so that I can do payroll. Sound alright kiddo?” John, her boss, and owner of Mooncents asks.

Carina nods with a smile as he places a hand on her good shoulder.

“Oh and kiddo, you know that if you need any help, I’m here. I know you don’t like asking but please promise me that you will if you need to.” John says softly before disappearing to the back of the shop.

The short blonde girl’s smile falters slightly before she smoothes the purple apron and gets to making drinks. She and Miles make quips and snarky comments to each other while they work until something weird happens. Around 30 minutes before close, a tall figure sidles through the door, clad in a suit made of denim. Despite the change of dress, Carina recognizes the vibes of this man.

She motions for Miles to take the order as she keeps her head down, pretending to be busy wiping a spot on the counter.

“--well the day was going well until some ungrateful brat knocked into me and didn’t even bother to apologize. I feel like I should get some sort of compensation for that…..” The man locks his brown eyes on Carina’s bright blue. Something about him is setting off alarms in her head. She needs to run. Run. RUN.

She makes a beeline for the back of house, almost running into John, who had finally finished payroll. “Woah woah! What’s going on kiddo?! Where’s the fire!”

John takes in her fearful appearance. Carina doesn’t respond but she doesn’t have to. John squares his shoulders, removes his glasses, and steeles his eyes before walking through the door.

Carina peeks out from the swinging door to see her, former marine, boss calmly ask what was going on. His body language gave off an aura of intimidating strength. John never had to raise his voice, he simply had to look at a person in a specific way and they would back down. Not this denim-suited man though. He was not backing down in the slightest.

He started screaming incoherently at John before pulling his knife. Carina was glued to her hiding spot. Miles went to hit the guy with a broom but the man slashed at him. For just a second, Carina thought that Mr. Denim had missed, oh how wishful she was. Time felt slowed as Miles staggered back, clutching his lower left chest. His wheezing breaths were the only thing that broke the silence at that moment.

John grabbed the man’s knife-wielding arm, pulling it toward him. He lifted his other hand to the man’s hair and slammed his head repeatedly into the counter as Carina finally regained her legs.

Carina sprinted to Miles, putting pressure on his wound. She wasn’t much one for praying but she sent a quick prayer for Miles. He shouldn’t have to suffer for her actions. If she had just apologized or something….

John ties the not-quite-cowboy up with his apron before calling the police. Knowing how skittish Carina is around police, he tells her that he will be ok there and that she should take her tips and leave out the back door. While taking over holding Miles’s wound, he places a firm, fatherly, hand on her shoulder.

“This was not your fault Aria. That man needs psychiatric help. It is entirely his fault that he attacked you, and that he attacked Miles. Miles is going to be ok. You go home to your sister and have a movie night or something kiddo. I’ll take it from here.”

Carina nodded without looking up. She jogged out the back door to make her way to the Jade Dragon Night Club.

“Sorry John,” she thought, “I still have work to do.”

“Oi! Short-Fuse! You don’t go on until midnight! The hell you doin’ here?” A mildly concerned voice shouts as she enters the club.

“Got off work early Marty.” Carina mumbles. She makes her way to the seat at the end of the bar. Marty sets a Monster and a shirly temple in front of her. Carina pulls her laptop out of her bag and starts doing her homework. It’s 8:45 pm, which gives her nearly three hours before she has to change and warm up for her second job. She spends the first hour working on homework before she starts to nod off.

“May as well change into my gear…” She thinks sleepily. The short blonde stands up, joints crackling. “Oi, Marty, I’m off to change!”

The barkeep raises a bottle in acknowledgment as Carina moseys on down to her dressing room to change. She says dressing room but it’s just a little storage closet with a vanity, med kit, and different Jade Sisterhood branded outfits. Tonight is cold so she grabs a white tank top with green scaled panels on the sides with well-fitting black shorts decorated with J on one side and S on the other. She slips into her green fuzzy Crocs and a green, lightly oversized, hoodie that has the Jade Sisterhood logo on the back and arms. Scarred hands throw her hair into a tiny ponytail with a green, white, and black, headband for her fly-aways.

DING

Sparing one last glance in the mirror, Carina looks down at her phone. It’s a message from Aksana. That’s weird. Her sister knows that she has work after school and that tonight is one of the long nights.

9:58 pm

Ana: Dude

Ana: Don’t go home after work

Ana: Can’t talk much, but cops

Ana: At the station, something happened to Greg and Mum

Ana: Thye wont tell me til you’re here

Ana:They*

10:01 pm

Carina: Are you safe

Carina: ???

Carina: Do you need me to come get you

Carina: You’re a minor, they can’t hold you

Carina: What do you mean Greg and Mum

Carina: What happened???

Ana: I’m safe, you stay

Ana: I’ll ask her for help if anything happens

Ana: Don’t worry

Ana: Just come when you’re done, I can wait. They’re going to be waiting for you at home so don’t go there.

Ana: Come straight here but leave any ‘you know whats’ there

Ana: Nosey coppers are snooping around. Including my phone.

Ana: Fight well

Ana: Be safe, love you

10:13 pm

Carina: ten four good sister

Carina: Love you too

“An hour and 45 minutes till I’m on…ughhhh. This kind of sucks.” Carina grumbles while walking back to her seat. She finishes her homework by 11:15 then puts her head on the bar to rest her eyes and listen to inebriated people make fools of themselves. She dozes off for all of twenty minutes before being roused by the smell of fresh sweet potato fries and half a club sandwich. She can’t eat much before her fights lest she puke it up but Marty knows that she hasn’t eaten since lunch at school, if not breakfast. Carina has a terrible habit of getting engrossed in whatever task she is doing and “forgetting” to eat until it’s done. By that time though, she is so exhausted that she just won’t eat anything because it’s too much work. He can tell that she’s getting to that point so, as a good brother figure, he shall force her to eat at least a little bit.

Besides, if she doesn’t eat, she won’t fight well. If she doesn’t fight well, the sisterhood will….be unhappy. Very unhappy. Bad things happen when you anger the sisterhood.

Pale blue eyes glance at the food, then at the kindly bartender. “Thanks, Marty.”

“No problem short-fuse” he chuckles as she yawns, “You better eat then stretch youngin, your first match starts in 35 minutes. Can’t have you cramping up munchkin.”

The sandwich was delicious. Marty was the undisputed top bar chef in the entire Sisterhood territory. He had grown up cooking with his abuela and mother, even going as far as to get a culinary degree from the community college in his home city. Carina took a last swig of her monster before grabbing a bottle of water and heading to her warmup zone. She scrolled through her spotify for warmup music before starting her stretches. Thoughts of what Ana had texted lingered in the back of her mind.

“What did it all mean? Is Miles ok? Does John hate her? What happened to mum and Greg? Why are the police out to get us? Is it because they found ou-!?”

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