Making Rent (Myah and Ourobouran)

[Ourobouran]

There was no knock at the door. Just two quiet and yet deafening clicks as first the deadbolt and then the handle lock were turned, and defeated.

“Good afternoon!” Ward cried out as he stepped into his tenets’ two-bedroom apartment. He was an older man—older than some, anyway—in his mid-forties with dad bod and highly styled hair. He wore flashy, tacky jewelry and an off the black suit he thought made him look like a mafioso instead of just a sleaze.

Behind him were two thick, dumb looking men. One was going bald, the other had braces, and each were well over six feet.

“I thought I would drop by, have a bit of a chitchat. Now everyone,” he looked at the family, arrayed in front of the three intruders crammed between the hallway and a cramped kitchen that led off the front door.

There was Michael, the family patriarch, out of work with crippling back pain and a beer gut that couldn’t be helping matters. Then Megan, the bleary-eyed mother working double shifts at a diner to make rent. Then Marissa, the little girl who looked frightened standing behind Marley.

“You can’t be here! You can’t just walk in like that!” Michael protested.

“Yes. I can,” Ward replied, his hazel eyes smugly bearing down on the man. “I can do... Whatever I want. I proved that in the courts, didn’t I?”

“They—the judge was corrupt!” Michael burst, slapping a fist impotently against his hand.

“Yes,” Ward agreed. “He’s a dear friend.”

The sleaze clapped his hands together and brightened. “Now let’s have a chat before Larry and Lester break your things for treating me with such disrespect.

“Starting, oh, retroactively to the beginning of the month the rent is going up by... Six hundred dollars.”

Megan gasped, his tired eyes widening and hand clapping to her mouth to smother a protest.

“You can’t, that’s extortion!”

“Ding ding ding, Mikey! You got it in one! And what prizes does the man get, Larry?”

The bald one looked confused. “I dunno, boss.”

“You don’t? Another hundred dollars tacked onto rent.”

“We’ll be homeless,” Megan sobbed.

“Well,” Ward cast a glance at Marley, “I’ll cut you a deal. You toss me Marley, make her part of the rent, and we’ll call that six hundred dollars a month. Right there. So you’ll only be one hundred behind on rent. And if Marley does really well, I’ll knock off some extra.

“What do you say, guys?

“Want to be homeless?”

 

[solacing]

The moment the door flew open, Marley almost instinctively tucked the younger blonde behind her back, a scowl on her lips. Growing up, she had heard about how hard life was, but she never imagined it being this hard. She never imagined her father being laid off, or her mother hardly ever being home, nor did she ever imagine that she would be the one to practically bring Marissa up.

It wasn’t that her father didn’t try, he did. But there wasn’t much he could do in the state he was in, hell, he could barely stand for a couple hours at a time, let alone drag an almost nine year old to and from school everyday, a school that was about as shitty as the house they shacked up in, mind you. Not that they could really afford anything else, though. If she were being honest, it killed her, knowing she wouldn’t be able to give her sister the life she, herself, never got.

Marley couldn’t think of anyone else she hated more than the man standing before them. The hatred only seemed to intensify as his gaze locked on hers, the words falling from his lips enough to have her lips parting in disgust, her nose scrunching.

She cleared her throat, glancing towards the stunned faces of her parents. “Come again?” She quipped, brows raising. “What do you mean, make me part of the rent?”

The brunette wasn’t dumb, she knew she was beautiful, she just never paid as much attention to it - even though it mattered around these parts of town more than she’d like to let on. Brunette locks were almost always cascading down her back, reaching mid back. She was thin, yet curvy, standing at almost 5’5, with 32C breasts, something that she always favoured, they weren’t too big, or too small. They were perfect.

Megan stared dumbfounded, her brows pinching together. “What?! No that’s crazy!” What kind of mother would she be if she allowed her daughter to do something so...degrading!

 

[Ourobouran]

"Seven hundred," Ward replied in a sing-song tone. "So now you're... Two hundred behind. Before Marley's contribution to the home."

Michael began to lever himself up from the comfortable, worn out chair he spent half his life on and Ward didn't even have to snap his fingers. Lester trundled out of the kitchen and stood at his boss' side. The threat was implicit and Michael let himself back down, defeated before a fight had even began.

Arguably, he'd been defeated a few weeks back when the judgment came down and the case was dismissed with prejudice. Meaning, they couldn't raise the case again with new counsel or evidence.

"You can't do this," Michael said quietly.

Ward briskly walked to Michael and got onto a knee, just out of arm's reach. "I can do anything I want. I own you. I can keep each of you from being able to rent in this whole state if I want. That's what one eviction will do to you. That's before I pursue back rent with the sheriff and you and Megan end up in debtor's jail.

"Then who knows what will happen to Marley and Marissa.

"Probably foster care for Marissa. I don't think they'll see Marley as a fit caretaker. She's a little young."

He stood back up and looked at Marley.

"I'm going to leave now. You'll have... Until 8 PM to make your decision, then I'll meet you outside the door. If you're even a minute late, I'll be retroactively increasing your rent by seven hundred dollars."

He left the apartment with a wave, "Ta-ta for now."

 

[solacing]

Marley’s knees threatened to buckle underneath her as she watched the ward leave the apartment, the colour draining from her cheeks. Well. Shit. What was she supposed to do now? No - fuck that - what were they supposed to do now? Ultimately she knew the decision didn’t fall on her parents shoulders, nor her little sisters shoulders, it was all down to her.

And as much as she didn’t want to admit it - there was only one right answer.

It was an answer she didn’t even want to think about, she wasn’t stupid, she knew what he meant. At least, she sort of had an idea. She very much doubted he wanted to have a fucking tea party with her. If that was the case - he would’ve asked for Marissa.

Truthfully, it wasn’t the fact that her parents could end up in jail that had her bordering the line of complete humiliation and degradation, it was the threat of foster care. She knew he was right, she wasn’t fit enough to take care of the little blonde by herself, even if she was the legal age now. She could barely take care of herself. She couldn’t let them take her away.

“Marley?” A small voice broke her from her thoughts, her pale blue eyes casting towards her little sisters figure.

Plastering a (fake) smile onto her lips she rose a brow. “Yeah, pumpkin?”

“What did he mean?” Marissa’s bottom lip quivered as the older brunette crouched in front of her.

“You don’t have to worry ‘bout that, okay? You let me worry about that, yeah? Why don’t you go colour me something?“

The blondes eyes lit up as she nodded, completely forgetting about the previous topic. “Yeah! How about a princess? Or a car!” She seemed to contemplate something for a minute, before shaking her head. “I’ll just do both!” And with that, she scurried in the direction of the room way too small.

With a sigh, Marley stood up, watching the young eight year old.

“You’re not...thinking of doing it, are you?”

The quiet voice of her mother broke the almost deafening silence as the teen turned on her heel, offering a sad smile. “I don’t really have much of a choice, do I?”

Her mother’s eyes widened as she shook her head. “What?” She echoed, casting a wary glance towards her husband. “Of course you do! Look...I can pick up extra shifts, Adele wouldn’t mind, a-and we can report it!”

Megan was talking nonsense now, and both her husband and daughter knew it. They couldn’t report jack shit, and her mother truly couldn’t pick up more shifts than she already had. It was either Marley became part of the rent, or, they were evicted and left to fend for themselves out on the streets.

“It’s fine, I’m a big girl, I can look after myself.” She grinned, though, her voice broke ever so slightly. “Besides, you know we can’t do nothing about this - I have to, you’ve done so much for me, let me do this one thing for you guys, yeah?”

Michael hadn’t said a word since the ward left, too broken up about the entire situation. If he had just gotten off of his ass and found a job, none of this would’ve happened, his daughter wouldn’t have to practically whore herself out to disgusting men, and they wouldn’t be living in such a dump. Where did they go wrong?

———

Time had went by quicker than Marley would’ve liked, and before she knew it, she was standing outside of their apartment - her family only inches away, a thick wooden door keeping them apart. She ground her teeth, her arms folded loosely across her midsection, she hadn’t bothered to change. An oversized jumper and a high waisted skinny jeans being her option of clothing, she wasn’t going to dress up for him, fuck that.

 

[Ourobouran]

Lester appeared, trundling down the hallway to collect Marley for his boss. His small mouth minutely broadened as he affected something like a smile, showing off braces and the spinach that had been caught within them. At least he was eating his greens, even if his other life decisions--the heavy scent of burnt tobacco, the poorly fitting track suit, working for a slumlord like Ward--were decidedly sub par.

He stopped in front of Marley and his piggie eyes squeezed into little slits when he saw her. Lester ponderously shook his head, "No, no. The boss won't like it. Go back in and change into something bettah. Somethin' that says hey you're my type-a guy."

It was an unexpectedly articulate thing for Lester to say. Without missing a beat he laboriously began removing a thick key ring from a carabiner off his belt. With hamhock sized hands meant more for blunt force trauma than any sort of useful dexterity, he ruffled through them to find the one with her apartment number written on a tag dangling off the side.

"I'll walk you back in, miss, and make sure you wear something proper for the boss." He used his mass to displace Marley, less pushing than letting simple physicsmove for him. He fumbled at the door and pushed it open, then pointed. "Come on now. Dress up good for Ward."

 

[solacing]

The teen couldn’t help the way her nose scrunched at the sight of the man who no doubt came to do his bosses bidding, it was incredible, really, how a man could be so...disgusting. She wondered if he knew how repulsing he was, clearly, he didn’t know very much. Not if he pranced around thinking he was the shit.

Marley rose a brow as he spoke, defiantly shaking her head. “I don’t think so, this, is my outfit and if he doesn’t like it, he can fuck off.” Probably not something she should’ve said to the man who had deep enough connections to raise the rent again, but, she didn’t really care at that very moment. She refused to dress up for him.

“I’m not a fuckin’ doll, he can’t just play dress up with me, he wants me to be part of the rent? That’s all he gets.” It wasn’t until she caught sight of her mother nervously chewing on her thumb that she allowed her shoulders to drop. No doubt remembering who she was doing this for. She couldn’t afford to fuck it up.

With a tight lipped smile, she shoved past Lester, ignoring the worried glances of her parents and baby sister - she couldn’t allow them to see her like this, nor could she allow herself to interact with them right now, it was hard. They would understand that. Hopefully.

Once safely inside her room, she blew out a breath. Her eyes fluttering closed for a second, before reopening, “You can do this,” she murmured to herself, trudging towards the small wardrobe stuffed in the corner of her bedroom. Without much thought, she pulled out a pair of denim shorts, and they were in fact, short. Truthfully, she didn’t really have clothing that properly fit her frame anymore, most of it she had outgrown long ago, but, she made do with what she had. And perhaps, the short ass shorts would come in handy, after all.

Sliding out of her jeans, she pulled the shorts up her legs, slipping out of the jumper only to pull a low cut black cropped tee over her head. Ideally, it wasn’t the best outfit, but she didn’t have clothing that would deem fit enough for him, when she bought her wardrobe she didn’t really have dressing up for old men in mind.

Before long, she was back outside, uncomfortably shifting from one foot to another. “Can we go now?” She wasn’t so much impatient as she was eager to get everything out of the goddamn way.

 

[Ourobouran]

Perhaps contrary to Marley’s expectations, Lester didn’t have much to say about her outfit. He grunted in something like approval at her skimpier, albeit casual, outfit. When he she left her room Lester was in the middle of mean mugging Michael, staring the man down with an unblinking stupidity. He stepped out of the way as Marley left the apartment and exercised the exact kind of courtesy you would expect from a thug of his caliber.

“Yeah, kid, we can go.”

He leaned forward and spit just inside of their doorway before walking down the hallway towards the stairwell. While there was, nominally, an elevator it climbed at a lethargic pace and marked by sudden starts and unsettling stops as it traveled towards ground level. The hallway paint was patchy and mottled, the paper beneath it peeling where time and the air had eaten away at the paint.

Lester slowly moved down the stairwell, keeping his lips sealed, before they exited into the cool night air. They had left a car running on the side of the street, and in the backseat Ward was wearing the same suit he had been earlier that day. He readjusted his small wire-framed glasses on his nose when Lester opened the backdoor for Marley.

“Welcome, welcome! You look like a streetwalker.” Marley’s landlord chuckled at the comment. “Your generation has no sense of style.”

He lifted a beer from between his legs and took a swig, “Come in. You’re letting the warm air out.”

 

[solacing]

Marley shot a sad smile over her shoulder at the grief stricken faces of her parents, she was at least thankful that Marissa hadn’t been paying much attention - even if her outfit genuinely wasn’t that bad, she felt exposed, and didn’t want her little sister witnessing such a...downfall.

“You’re disgusting,” she muttered as her gaze tore away from her parents, the door slamming shut behind them. “Anyone ever talked to you ‘bout manners? You could sure as hell use some.” If she were being completely honest, their landlord had chosen the complete wrong family, in a sense. Marley had an attitude, an attitude she wasn’t willing to control, but, hey, at least he’s deserving of it.

She didn’t comment on Ward’s words, instead opting to silently slide into the backseat, keeping somewhat of a distance between them. “You’re one to talk,” she grunted, lips curling up in distaste. “Have you seen your outfit? You need a serious wardrobe change, honestly, you look disgusting.” Her gaze dropped down to the bottle of beer between his legs before she rolled her eyes. “Smell disgusting, too.” She muttered, though, much quieter this time.

Truthfully, Marley had no idea what she was supposed to do, or where they were taking her. He had been pretty vague about the whole situation upstairs at their apartment, she very much doubted she was brought here to insult them, though. That didn’t stop her from continuing, however.

“Are you thinking about going out in public dressed like that? Because if you are, I’m walking ahead. No offence I just refuse to be associated with someone who dresses like...you.” Yeah, she really did need to shut up. But that was much easier said than done.

 

[Ourobouran]

Ward nodded, keeping up with the stream of critique and criticism that flowed from Marley's mouth. He chewed over them, not particularly interested in her opinion but unable to lie to himself and say that it didn't sting. Words had a habit of doing that.

"... honestly, you look disgusting."

"I look like a pimp." He felt okay with that, but it lacked a certain something. Another swig of beer past his lips and his ears perked at her comment about his smell. Now, there was something he could do something about.

Lights and signs flashed as Lester silently drove them to their unknown destination. The towncar lumbered like an ox as it turned, drifted without signalling to cut off other drivers, and made a mockery of the law and road safety.

"... refuse to be associated with someone who dress like... you."

There was the mouth again. A mouth that was getting Marley into trouble, just like her father's mouth had gotten him and her whole family into trouble with that lawsuit of his. Unlike her whole family, who seemed to feel a need to comment and be heard and live within a just system, Ward was a predator. He was one of the types that lurked by the watering hole, who picked and chose and then pounced.

So he counted up her insults, one after another, and decided on what would be an appropriate course of action.

"Lester. We're going to the mall."

And like that their direction changed, no longer tacking east from the slum they lived in, but getting onto a main thoroughfare and heading towards a tacky monument to capitalism that spawned for blocks on the edge of town. It only took fifteen minutes of silence, during which time Ward finished that beer and started another, counting verbal injuries.

Lester dropped them off in front of the mall and went elsewhere to park. "Since you're a filthy little fucking urchin of a thing, we're going to go shopping. You'll thank me later, I'm sure.

"C'mon, streetwalker."

He walked into the mall with Marley and kept a close eye on her, corraling her towards a store targeted at roughly her demographic.

"Get whatever you want, but I have veto. I'll be waiting by the fitting room, you'll come out, you'll show me, I'll yay or nay. Can you remember that or do I need to snapchat it to you?"

 

[solacing]

“...I look like a pimp.”

Marley’s brow shot up as he spluttered the comment, a laugh bubbling past her lips. “And you’re okay admitting that? You’re okay with people believing that? Granted, they wouldn’t have reason to believe you’re lyin’.” Truthfully, they wouldn’t. Because he did look like a pimp. Though, whether he should be pleased about that, she didn’t know.

“...We’re going to the mall.”

Who knew a simple five worded sentence could confuse someone so much? What was he doing? Was this his way of flaunting that he actually had money? Because if so, she didn’t fall for it - nor did she care all that much. She could have money, if she really wanted it. It wasn’t that hard for a girl of her looks to get it, she just preferred to not stoop that low.

Something she had no choice of doing in this situation.

It wasn’t until they stood outside of a store that the reality of the situation finally kicked in. Immediately she wrapped her arms around her midsection, shaking her head. “Uh..” she trailed off, gaze flickering from the random strangers, waltzing around, to his. “I don’t think so, like I told your little buddy earlier, I’m not a doll. I refuse to play dress up, especially with someone of your nature,” she bit, shifting from one foot to another.

With the amount of people hanging around, and the look of both Marley and Ward, wouldn’t they believe her if she screamed? Not necessarily for help, but...something about danger? Did she have the upper hand right now? Guess they were about to find out.

“Also,” she started, offering him a sly smile. “You can’t force me to do anything I don’t want to right now, coming to a public place probably wasn’t your brightest idea, you know how much trouble you’d get into if I screamed? Perhaps lookin’ like a pimp wasn’t such a bright idea, either.”

 

[Ourobouran]

"I don't think so, I don't think so," Ward aped in a nasal tone of voice, rolling his eyes at the girl showing off her midriff with the temerity to talk back to him. Of all people, she decided to play games with him.

Her stupid little smile put him on edge--not in the sense of danger or anxiety, but like a low buzzing drill in his molars. The words that came out her mouth put the cherry on top.

"You want to play this game?"

Ward reached into his coat pocket and fiddled with something for a moment before withdrawing his hand. Without warning he grabbed one of her wrists and yanked her off balance, fifty dollar bills spilling from the hand he had used to grab her.

"Pick pocket! Thief!" He shouted. "I tried to help you when I found you begging! Jesus H., kid!

"Can someone get security!"

Now they were making a scene, with Ward grabbing onto the girl, bills on the ground. People were whispering to each other, sidelong glances abound, fingers were pointed. A portly middle aged man in a black mall security uniform jogged towards them as fast he could.

"What's going on, sir?" He asked, blue eyes swiveling from Ward to Marley and back again.

"This little thief picked my pockets after I tried to help her." He pushed her hand away, hard, and knelt down to pick up the dollars he had palmed from inside his jacket and spilled to the ground. "I found her begging and told her I'd help her get interview clothes so she wasn't dressed like..."

Ward made a gesture towards her, encompassing her very short shorts and low cut crop top.

The security guard nodded.

"Come with me, miss," he said, putting a hand on Marley's shoulder.

 

[solacing]

Well, shit.

Those were the only two words floating around her mind as she watched him reach into his pocket, she didn’t have time to do anything before he yanked on her wrist, causing her to stumble over her own two feet. By the time her gaze locked on the fifty dollar bills, she hadn’t had enough time to realise what he was about to do.

“...Pick pocket! Thief!”

Marley locked her jaw, her teeth digging into her gums as everyone turned towards the sudden commotion, pale blue eyes narrowed into a glare as she blew out a breath. “Really?” She spoke through gritted teeth. Granted, she supposed it was some type of karma, she had threatened him, she wasn’t quick to act on it like he was, though.

“You fuckin’ liar!” She shook the security guards hand off of her, turning her heated glare on him. “Don’t touch me, I did nothing wrong.”

She hated how quick everyone was to believe the man before her - in a way, the judge didn’t count considering he was supposedly a friend of Wards, but this man? He wasn’t. He didn’t know shit, and still, he chose to believe him. The man who looked like a goddamn pimp.

Her gaze flickered from the countless stares, to the security guard. She was somewhat nervous, she had always hated being the centre of attention, especially when it was for something she didn’t even do. Fuck him. “He’s a liar, I was just minding my business and he came up to me and tried to offer me money for sex!” In a way, she supposed that was half true.

The young brunette took a small step back from Ward, wrapping her arms around her midsection once again, playing the part of an innocent. “The way I’m dressed has nothing to do with this! Does he look like the kind of guy who’d get pick pocketed anyway? C’mon, he practically screams ‘I’m a pimp!’” Yes, she did use his words against him, and hopefully, it was working. Hopefully - she was beating him at this game.

 

[Ourobouran]

Ward sighed and shook his head. He put his hand to his chest and squeezed something beneath his chest before moving his hand away and revealing a cross necklace there, now dangling through the top two buttons of his shirt. "Drugs these days, you know? I just saw a young girl in need and decided to do my Christian duty."

The security guard shot him a questioning look, then another at the girl. However, Marley did little to help her own case.

"So, miss, you're claiming that... This man is a pimp who offered you money for sex?" The boomer raised an eyebrow. "So, you're soliciting on mall grounds?"

It was then one of the on-lookers spoke up, "Actually, she's lying. They came up to the store together."

The security guard sighed, "Just come with me. Sir, did you get all of your money back?"

Ward bent down to grab some bills off the ground, counting out two hundred and fifty dollars. "Yes, yes I did. And I think I would like to file a police report."

"Okay, okay, I'll have someone from security come and take you to our office." The security guard got a look like this was the last thing he wanted to do. He put a hand back on Marley's shoulder and began to guide her away before any other public eruptions could further disrupt his evening. "Just come with me. Don't make this harder than it needs to be."

Ward was left smirking outside of the store, arms crossed, while Marley was being lead away. He knew exactly what he had done and what would happen. He was older and male, and while he dressed like a sleazeball his word mattered more than hers did. When it came down to brass tacks he automatically had more credibility, and it was something he would use to her advantage. If things went exactly how he wanted them to, she'd get herself a bit of a criminal record and have an ever harder time finding a job.

It would, perchance, necessitate pushing things out a little bit longer to let her stew in the consequences of her actions. Or maybe force her to come to him and beg for forgiveness.

Either way, she had insulted him five times already on just this evening--and this was just the first way he was getting back at her for it.

 

[solacing]

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

In a way, she should’ve seen this coming. Of course his word was going to matter over hers, because he was a fucking man. That’s just the way shit worked out these days, and it was disgusting. He was older too, and whilst she hated to admit it, the way she dressed did come into play. The way somebody dresses - in her eyes - had nothing to do with anything, but it had everything to do with everything to other people.

“...I would like to file a police report.”

Marley stopped dead in her tracks, clenching her fists. This fucking bastard. Honestly, if she were to get even more angrier, she swore she would explode. A police report would result in the opening of a criminal record, something she has yet to have of. Something that would surely make it impossible to get a job. If she couldn’t get a job, and help pay the rent, she’d be stuck being the rent.

She caught a glimpse of him smirking before she was led away, a fire burning at the pit of her stomach. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. “Sir,” she started, tugging her lower lip between her teeth, thoughtfully. “You have to believe me, I didn’t do anything.”

The security guard sighed, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah. It’s the same with all you kids these days, you know? Do stupid shit and then swear blind you ain’t do nothin’, It’s about damn time y’all got called out on it.” Truthfully, though, he couldn’t care less about this kinda drama - it was more of a nuisance than anything, really.

She huffed, her shoulders dropping ever so slightly. What was she supposed to do now?

 

[Ourobouran]

The security guard, J. Johnson, lead Marley down a nearby hallway with restrooms and through an unmarked door. The room had four desks, one of which was manned by an unimpressed woman in a mall security uniform, and Johnson lead her to a heavy chair opposite one of them. Without warning or theatrics he slapped a pair of handcuffs over one of her wrists and the other end over the chair's arm.

"Don't make a scene. I'll tell the cops if you do, and if you make a scene they'll just be harder on you. Now sit tight, they should be here soon." With that Johnson began doing paperwork to trespass Marley, asking for her name, age, address, and a bevy of other personal, identifying details.

"I'm going to trespass you from the mall. That means if you show up to the mall again you're going to be arrested. Sign here..." He slid a piece of paper with two yellow and pink carbon copies beneath it. "Press down hard."

The remainder of their time was depressing and banal.

It was quite--neither Johnson nor the woman were interested in speaking to or hearing from Marley--and when the cops finally did show it was a fit man in his mid thirties.

He glanced at Marley and then started speaking with Johnson, glancing over some paperwork, nodding, uh huh, uh huh.

"Okay, then." The man introduced himself as Officer Wallace and sat down in a chair opposite her. He removed a notepad from his belt, "Here's the deal, you're a first time offender and this was misdemeanor theft. Normally there would be different charge for pickpocketing, but I don't see any reason to throw you head first into the system while you're still young.

"You'll receive a letter in the mail with a court date, and I'm issuing you this ticket in lieau of arrest." He put down a white sheet of paper with dire warnings about failure to comply on the bottom. "If you don't show up to your court date, you'll be placed in contempt and a warrant will be placed for your arrest.

"You should be aware that it is very dangerous for young women like you to work on the street." He raised a finger, to forestall the inevitable denial. "Don't bullshit me. It's obvious what you were doing. I don't like it, and I'm tempted to take you in and hold you overnight to prove a point.

"There are ways of making money that can seem easy, maybe even a little fun, but you never know who you'll run into. Maybe tonight you even decided not to, and need to get some cash some other way. I've flagged you for solicitation in the system. That means if you're ever picked up on that charge you will not be cut loose. Instead, you'll go straight to jail. Think about what your parents would say if they knew."

With that Officer Wallace stood up, said goodbye to Johnson and the other security officer, and left.

After a few minutes Johnson undid Marley's cuffs and lead her through the hallways between and behind storefronts where maintenance and other workers gathered to do work out of the public's prying eye. He opened the door for her and said, "Go straight to the sidewalk. Don't linger. I don't want to have to call the cops on you twice in a single night, young lady.

"And for god's sake.

"Get yourself together."

He closed the door to the mall in Marley's face.

 

[solacing]

The anger boiling in the pit of her stomach was almost too much to ignore, her gaze hardened as she glared at the door to the mall - not only was she forced to walk back home dressed like she was, but, she had been kicked out of the mall. Her neighbourhood was dangerous for someone like her to walk through by herself, but, she didn’t care.

With incoherent mumbles, she spun on her heel, and began the long trek back towards the apartment she was forced to call home. How dare he treat her like this? How dare anybody treat her like this? She hated the fact that people always took the mans side of things - no matter what happened - it would always be the woman’s fault. Fuck that.

“...Young women like you to work on the street.”

Had she actually been dressed like some flimsy hooker? Was she perceived as that trashy? Not that she had anything against women who fucked around for money - in fact, she thought it was incredibly brave, the amount of self humiliation they’d have to endure for it. Personally, she could never do it. Though...she supposed she couldn’t say that anymore. Then again, she wasn’t even sure what Ward wanted with her.

“...It’s obvious what you were doing.”

The fact that a cop automatically assumed she was nothing more than a woman on the prowl for her next victim irked her beyond belief. He hadn’t even given her a chance to explain herself, she hated the system. She hated how fucked it was. Unless you had money and a dick - nobody wanted to hear from you.

Folding her arms over her chest, she briskly walked the half a mile to the apartment blocks, hurrying through the shitty stain covered door, barely even casting a glance in her parents direction before she was through the threshold of her bedroom, the door slamming shut behind her.

Megan cast a wary glance towards her husband, the faint sound of a lock clicking shut was the only audible sound. “Should we check on her?”

Michael shook his head with a soft sigh. “No, give her some space, if she wants to talk, she will.”

 

[Ourobouran]

In a week the letter from the court came in the mail. It was Michael who got it. There'd been a free day for physical therapists down at the community center and he'd been able to get a ride from one of his few remaining friends there and back.

He came back and got the mail before taking the elevator back up. He spent the whole slow, jerking ride staring at the envelope, seeing who it was for. His older daughter, who was having such a god damn hard time. He knew what a summons looked like. He'd gotten speeding tickets before, and got into trouble a couple times when he was young, but he'd never expected this from Marley.

She was so responsible.

More responsible than she should have had to have been. Tears burned in Michael's eyes when he thought, again, about what an incredible failure he was.

Half a father.

Half a husband.

Half a fucking man.

He wiped his tears away before he stepped back into his apartment, and handed the letter to Marley when he saw her with Marissa. "I," he began, and then stopped short of saying anything.

Who was he to lecture his daughter?

She was bringing more into the house than he was.

"I love you, sweetheart. I know you're doing your best."

He shook his head--at himself, not his eldest--and stalked to the recliner. He grunted as he lowered himself into it.

It was then Marley received a text from Ward.

Hey, you ready to meet me tonight or not? Last chance.

 

[solacing]

The week passed in a blur - a blur of hazy thoughts and late nights. She had barely been able to sleep properly, too much shit on her mind. She wanted nothing more than to get away from it all, to whisk Marissa and her parents away, to have no goddamn worries. But that was too much to ask, it always was.

“How was school, kiddo?” Marley hummed, a bright smile on her lips.

Marissa glanced up from her position on the floor, a pout on her own lips. “Not good, I got in trouble again! I didn’t even do anything!”

The older sibling rose a brow, leaning forward in her chair. “Oh yeah? What happened?”

Letting out a dramatic sigh, the blonde dropped her pencil, pushing the bangs from her eyes. “Hayden kept talking to me, and the teacher thought I was the one talking and put me on timeout! Can you believe that?” She whined.

Marley laughed, shaking her head. “What a jerk!”

It wasn’t until their father trotted in that she sobered up, her gaze falling to the envelope in his grasp. Her mood instantly dropped, her smile faltering. “Thank you,” she murmured, wrapping her fingers around the white paper. She knew what it was, and quite frankly, she didn’t want to deal with it right now. Without much of a second thought, she pushed it under the coffee table, standing to her feet.

“Hey, Rissa? How ‘bout you go get cleaned up for dinner? We’re having spaghetti tonight!” With a loud cheer, and a way too overly enthusiastic dance, the younger sibling left for her room.

Her fingers grasped at the phone that was hidden in the pocket of her sweats, her brows furrowing as she read the text. Chewing nervously on her lower lip, she swallowed the lamb of anger, before typing a text of her own.

You know I don’t have any other goddamn choice.

 

[Ourobouran]

Don't be a big old bitch about it. You owe me an apology. 8 PM sharp.

And with that, Ward was done texting her.

"Hey, Mar 'n Mar," their father called out his pet name for his two favorite ladies in the whole wide world. "Your mom says that she's getting off a little early tonight. She'll be home in time for dinner if we push it out to eight. What do you guys say?

"I'll make a little snack now, and then we can have dinner with your mom!" It would be the first time in weeks that would have been possible.

 

[solacing]

Marissa almost immediately poked her head out of the door, her eyes lighting up. “Yes!” She cheered, a grin on her lips. She had missed the four of them spending time together, it always seemed like someone was too busy, or their mother was working.

One glance at her phone, and Marley’s heart sank. 8pm sharp. Chewing on her lower lip, she offered both of them an apologetic smile. “I...can’t, I’m sorry.” Her shoulders dropped ever so slightly as she breathed a sigh.

Her sister shot her a sad glance, bottom lip jutting out. “What? Why?”

“I have to meet somebody important, Munchkin, but there’ll be more times!” The fact that she had called Ward important made her want to throw up, but she couldn’t exactly tell Marissa what she had to do.

However, Michael seemed to understand the true meaning, and his face dropped. For some reason, the meetings had completely slipped his mind - he hadn’t really thought that they would be continuous, she hadn’t had to see him in a whole week.

 

[Ourobouran]

Michael cleared his throat, pushed a hand against his chest, and cleared his throat again. "Don't worry, princess, your big sister is doing something to help us all out. She's being a good sister and I'm," he choked on the word, "proud of her."

Instead of getting up and going to his room and having a good cry because he was pimping his daughter out to his landlord or picking up a beer and drinking and never stopping because he needed something else to handle this for him the middle aged man did his best. He mustered up what he had left in him, picked himself up off his chair with the familiar stabbing pain that lanced through his soul, and said, "What if we did something nice before Marley had to go? What if we played a board game?"

~~~

8 PM

It wasn't Lester this time but Larry who came to fetch Marley at 8 PM. He was the bald one, not the one with the braces, and immediately stopped and ogled the woman.

"Da boss says, uh, you gotta dress nice for him like you did the last time. But, he did use the phrase less young crackwhore." Helpful in his own way, Larry made quotation marks with his fingers to emphasize that they were not his words. He double-checked his phone, "Yeah, I took notes, less young crackwhore.

"Think you can do that?

"Oh, and, gimme some wourder I'm parched this walk up those, uh, stairs."

 

[solacing]

By the time 8pm rolled around - Marley was about ready for the ground to open up and swallow her. She didn’t want to do this, she didn’t want to meet with him again, but, she had no choice. Well, she did. But the consequences weren’t something she wanted to think about.

She knew she was upsetting her father, not necessarily because of what she was doing, but more because of what he couldn’t do. She knew it must’ve been a kick in the gut, it must’ve hurt. She couldn’t imagine feeling so weak. She hated knowing she was the reason that he was hurting so much, but, she couldn’t do much about it.

Her gaze flickered over towards Larry as he barrelled through the room, her heart dropping almost instantly. “Of course,” she ground out through gritted teeth. Standing to her feet, before she shuffled out of the room, she stopped beside Marissa. “Can you get the weird man a glass of water?” She mused, eyes twinkling. The younger sibling giggled, standing to her own feet.

Without another word, Marley shuffled towards her bedroom. This time, picking out a pair of tight skinny jeans, with a less revealing cropped tee. It was classified as nice but not nice or short enough to be deemed as something a hooker would wear. With a content sigh, she moved back into the main room.

“Let’s go,” she muttered, again, wanting to get this over with.

 

[Ourobouran]

When Marley came back in Larry was guzzling down a glass of water. He reached down and patted Marissa on the back. "Thanks, little lady, it's hard work them stairs. I appreciate it."

He dropped the glass onto a counter and left with Marley, closing the door behind him without spitting in their limited foyer.

The thug lead Marley downstairs to the same waiting towncar she had been picked up in a week ago. There was Ward, in much the same outfit, although this time he managed to look even more a pimp.

The suit was a full canary yellow.

He took a swig off his beer, "Mar-mar, come in, come in. You have an apology for me, don't you?"

 

[solacing]

The brunette scrunched her nose up in distaste at the sight of the man, but, she didn’t comment on his outfit this time, nor did she mention anything or insult him. He did look ridiculous, though.

She slid into the car, making sure to put as much distance between them as possible, once again. “Don’t call me that,” she grunted, casting her gaze out of the window. He had no right to call her that, no goddamn right.

A dry laugh bubbled from the back of her throat as she nodded. “Right,” she muttered, fidgeting ever so slightly. “I’m sorry you’re an asshole.” Perhaps that wasn’t the apology he was looking for, but, it was the apology he got.

Truthfully, she probably shouldn’t test him anymore than she already had, she didn’t want to actually end up being arrested and maybe that thought was the reason why she cleared her throat, casting her gaze away from him. “I’m sorry for whatever it is that I did.” Still not good...but good enough.