Chapter Text
-Fang-
“Heyyy Lenny, don’t be like thattt! J-Just gimme till tomorrow, I got a gig I’m going to right-”
“I’m sorry Fang, but there’s no way you’re gettin’ four months’ worth of rent in a single night playing at some bar. What you can carry out on your back is what you can keep. The rest is taken as collateral, as per the contract you signed. All of this—this whole charade with you being some musical diamond in the rough? I shoulda never fallen for it.”
Each and every word cuts into me more and more, leaving me entirely quiet by the time my landlord finishes his statement.
After a few moments, he sighs, as if he was expecting some sort of response to that that would solve everything.
“God help ya, kid, because the other landlords in this area sure as hell won’t anymore.”
-Click-
…
“MmmmmMMMOTHERFFFFFUCKER!”
The first thing sent into the wall of the apartment is a couch cushion, followed by the TV remote, a shoe, and finally, a chair, all in quick succession. The rage only subsides once I realize just what I chucked at the well-abused barrier, the chair now stuck sideways, its legs having embedded themselves a few inches into the wall itself.
It would be a bit funny, if not for the fact that I just got fucking evicted.
That stupid bastard, I was THIS close to being able to make it big—just one more day, and I would’ve been riding the high life and all paid up.
But now?
I’m done.
Destroyed.
Royally fucked six ways from Sunday.
…
I feel like I should be having a panic attack right now.
I should, shouldn’t I?
Like, I’m gonna lose all the shit I busted my ass for, all because my soulless, money-grubbing worm of a landlord couldn’t wait a single damn extra day.
And yet, I feel… fine?
No.
Fuck, when’s the last time I felt that?
I feel… done, I guess.
This is it, huh?
One last hour or so living in some semblance of comfort, before I end up on the streets of Skin Row and die from getting mugged?
Who am I kidding, this was the natural endpoint of things.
I guess I could only rage against the machine alone for so long before it ground me to a worthless pulp—that much is apparent as I look back on things.
Bit by bit, slip by slope, my dream’s finally gotten to be too much in the way of cost, and as such I’ll be dragged into the abyss of nothingness, along with the husk of its failure.
…
What fuckin’ time is it?
6:07pm
Gig’s at 7:30…
Fuck it.
I’ll find a way out of this.
I always do, every single time.
But…
If this is how things go out, I’m gonna make sure tonight is a fuckin’ blaze of glory, at least.
I hope you’re happy everyone—Mom, Dad, Lenny. Reed, Trish.
I don’t know who else. Whichever pedo’s the president these days too, I guess.
Tonight’s the night Fang Aaron either jumps across another hurdle all on their own, or finally fades away into legend.
Now, before anything, I guess I need to pack what I can.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
-Anon-
One day in Volcaldera, and I’m already beginning to regret my choice.
As bad as Rock Bottom was, I’ve never had to cross the street to avoid carfentanyl zombies before. It’s hard to believe those guys are even still alive, much less upright at the angles they’ve placed themselves in.
Fuck, I’ve seen more homeless crackheads here alone than in the last five years of that hellhole.
Did Dad even look where he was sending me?
…
Who the hell am I kidding, of course he didn’t. It was probably easier to just pick the cheapest option as fast as possible and send me on my way.
Better to just get me out of town so people could stop laughing at him and Mom.
“College or the military. I don’t care which.”
Yeah? What if I just vanish? Make something of myself, and disappear? What then?
Fuck, those really are the only two options that don’t involve me becoming one of Skin Row’s esteemed finest over here.
Whatever, I’ve just gotta get home with my “groceries” and I can game until school tomorrow. Diet discount liter of soda, rice, beans, and pepper for flavor.
All I need.
It’s at this point that I realize there’s sounds that I really don’t like coming from down the street—a gang of stumbling, rowdy Saurians, all of them some absurd bright color and slurring their words as they push amongst each other, and they’re right in my path.
Alright, just gotta cross the street and I’ll be fi-
“Heyyyou, skinnie!”
Fuck.
“Where’dya think yer goin’? Yeeeeu scared of us or somethin’?”
The lead guy in the group catches what I’m doing as I’m halfway across the street, and almost immediately four disdainful, very jeering pairs of eyes are glaring at me all at once.
Just ignore them, they’ll go on their way if I—aaand they’re starting to follow me.
Is this seriously how I die? Torn apart by the first meteor dodgers I ever interact with? Why’d I have to choose sundown to get my fucking food supplies for the week?
C’mon, THINK, Anon!
…
Grungy-sounding music drifts into my ears from a couple dozen or so feet in front of me—an open, greasy-looking sports bar.
That’s my ticket out, surely they won’t follow me inside.
I nearly break into a run to cover the distance, the jeering and calling of the group getting louder until I swing the door open and duck inside.
After a few seconds of holding my breath, I relax; I was right, they’re not interested in tormenting me enough to follow me into a public establishment.
The sigh I let out is more than relieved as I slump against the wall, taking a moment to savor the joy of continued life on this miserable rock.
…I fucking hate this town already.
Do you understand what it meant to me
When you waltzed in here so carelessly
And said you know you’re special
And said I know you’re good
The sound of soft piano and a mournful, almost-husky voice cuts into my thoughts, snapping me out of my headspace and drawing my attention.
All traces of grungy rock are gone, now replaced by a rather gaunt, thin Pterosaur playing a piano up on the stage, surrounded by a couple of speakers and a beat-up looking black guitar in a small stand.
What about all the lies we lived
What about all the things we said
Raptor Jesus, she looks like shit—her scales are a dull gray or something like it, covering her thin, almost-emaciated frame with a tightness that makes it almost uncomfortable to look at. Random tattoos cover her arms and hands as well—there’s no pattern to them at all, just random insignias and symbols that are meaningless to anyone else but her.
Her face is… wow. Large, gray bags sit below sunken-in, dead-looking eyes, staring blankly at the keys she’s pressing as if it’s a robotic movement. The charity case is made whole by a ratty, not-so-clean-shaven head, along with the combo of black lipstick at the end of her snout and a black rag that could’ve been called a bandana at some point wrapped around the base of her head crest.
And I won’t forget
No I won’t forget
What a shame. Despite all of that, her face is still conventionally attractive—in another life, she probably could’ve had a good run as the front runner of a band somewhere away from here.
The song peters out after a few more repeats of the last couple of lyrics, and it takes a moment for a few people to start clapping.
As if roused by the sound of applause, the Ptero snaps up and out of the chair, blinking a few times before a forced smile takes over her face.
“Thank you, thank you! That was an original by me, actually!”
Her statement is met by relative indifference, and she stands there for a moment before reaching over and grabbing her guitar.
“That’s enough of that sorry shit though, you all probably want some more rock, right?”
A few cheers and whoops affirm her question, and she throws the strap around her shoulder, only pausing her preparation to grab a bottle of beer that sits next to her chair and take a long chug. Oh damn, she’s a few deep already, judging from the four empty bottles around the stage.
Well, I’ve seen enough—time to get out of he-
My stomach stops me with a clench as the smell of fatty, greasy fake Italian reaches my nostrils.
…Fuck, that pizza smells good.
I still have a good bit of cash for the first month, too. I could indulge for once. On something besides just Saturnia.
Screw it—while I’m here, I may as well get some actual food in me.
For school’s sake and all, of course.
Just as long as no one notices my stomach’s rumbling while I’m here.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Once again, my stomach has betrayed me.
What was supposed to be a quick order has turned into a boring hell of shit service, shit attitude, and an increasingly-drunk singer and audience on-stage.
It took over an hour for my pizza to come out, and as good as it was, getting a to-go box may be just as hard, especially given I’ve been waiting twenty minutes for that alone. Hell, it’s even gotten to the point where I’ve completely ran through any and all sources of entertainment in the form of easily-baitable schizos on the boards.
The bar is basically completely empty at this point, with most of the patrons having stumbled out as the music set ended about ten minutes ago. It’s got me, a few late staffers, and the singer herself as the only people left in the establishment.
Making it all too easy to hear the emaciated Ptero talking with what looked like the owner of the place.
“Alright, here’s your cut.”
“Thanks.”
I didn’t realize grabbing a box from the back was this fucking challenging.
“H-hey, where’s the rest?”
The singer’s nervous voice draws my attention—please don’t tell me this is about to turn into some sort of altercation right next to me.
“I-I was promised two hundred—this isn’t even enough to cover a stay in some shitty motel!”
“Yeah, that was before you downed ten beers and half a pizza by yourself—keep that in mind for next time.”
The Pterosaur beside me sputters as the dull looking Pachy pulls away from the conversation to continue cleaning up.
“God dammit.” She hisses as she look down into shaking hands. “I’m so fucked…”
After a few moments, she slams her first into the counter, making the empty plate in front of me bounce as her shocked frown turns into a snarl, a look of pure despair in her eyes as she stares at the rather meek wad of cash laid out before her.
You’d think an establishment would cover the needs of their entertainment. What a shithole.
“But of course, I choose the one place that doesn’t…”
S-shit, did I say that last part aloud? Yeah, I must’ve. She doesn’t say anything else though, instead electing to lay her head down and bury it under her arms, a low, almost-keening whine that turns into an inebriated burp escaping her as she sits there.
Thankfully, she doesn’t pay me any further mind as the server who’s been ignoring me the entire night finally comes by and drops me my pizza box.
“Here ya go, have a good night.”
Yeah, I would’ve, had I been able to get out of here an hour ago.
Whatever, time to go.
…
The singer hasn’t moved at all.
No. No, Anon, you door-humping retard, leave the disturbed druggie alone.
But shit she looks awful.
Maybe she’s not!
Doubt it.
Eh, screw it—here’s my good deed for the day.
She stirs as I take a slice out of the box and put it on my plate, sliding it towards her.
“The music was good.”
Her dull, brown-orange eyes stare up at me in guarded confusion, before softening into something else as I awkwardly break eye contact and begin my short journey home.
Just before I can make it to the door, I hear a stool screech along with the sound of someone stumbling, followed by a voice.
“W-wait!”
What?
Who, me?
I slowly turn around to find the singer standing at a rather unbalanced angle now, staring at me with an utterly incomprehensible expression, something between desperation and more guardedness as her gaze bores a hole into my head.
After a second or two of this awkward standoff, she slumps her tensed pose a bit.
“W-would you mind helping me clean up?”
Alright, time to see just how nice I can say ‘no.’
“Hic-Please, it’s not a lot…”
…Fuck, she’s staring at me like it’s life or death.
Fine. Screw me for being charitable for once.
“Alright.”
The look on her face changes to one of relief as she sighs.
“T-thanks.”
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
‘It’s not a lot’ my ass, these sleazy fucks are having us mop the entire stage.
I swear to God, this is the last time I do something nice for someone in this godforsaken city.
The singer’s packing up her guitar on the other side of the faded wooden performance area as I get a head start on the mopping, drawing the curtains to the area closed around us once she sees that I’m done with the outer area.
Strange, but whatever—I’m getting annoyed with the way the stupid workers are leering at me every so often, anyhow. Just so long as I can speed my undeserved part in this up quicker and without interruption is all that matters to me.
“S-so, haven’t seen you around here before.”
…So much for that last part.
Part of me wants to keep my lips sealed, but I’d really rather not test my luck with seeing whether or not the second plastered meteor dodger to interact with me is belligerent or not.
“I’m new.”
There’s silence for a moment, before I hear a snort.
“You’re ‘new’? As in like, to the area?”
Duh?
“Yeah. Just moved here a couple days ago.”
This elicits a laugh from the Ptero—I guess the alcohol content in her body is enough to find amusement from anything at this point.
“You-hic-‘moved’. To Skin Row.”
Okay, there’s no way I’m getting lip from the poster child of African malnourishment about this of all things.
“Yeah. I guess I did.”
I don’t know if she noticed the annoyed tone I gave with that last response, but if she did, she doesn’t seem to care.
“Well, that sucks.”
The last word there is a bit slurred there, but I try not to pay it any mind.
“Yeah.”
…
It only takes a few more minutes to finish up thankfully, but before I can grab my pizza and go, the singer speaks up again, turning to face me as she sets her guitar case down.
“Thanks. For helping out.”
“Yeah, no prob.”
The two of us awkwardly stare at each other for a second before I begin to move away, but a nervous look crosses her eyes the moment before I break contact, and she clears her throat.
“S-so, what’s your name?”
Her voice comes out much softer, though it’s a bit strained. Probably from the singing tonight, if I had to guess.
“Anon.”
I fully turn around now, picking my pizza box up off of the ground.
“Well, see you-”
“I’m Fang.”
…
“Cool.”
God this is such a miserable fucking conversation.
I’m about to finally take the moment to slip onto the other side of the curtains and speed-walk out of there, when she takes a step towards me, her hands fidgeting at her sides.
“H-hey, look, uh—I rrreally appreciate the help tonight, along with you sssticking around till the end of the show. I-it’s not-hic-often someone does that.”
As nice as the music sounded at times, I don’t really know how to tell her that I was only there that long due to the dogshit service of this fine ‘establishment.’
Fuck it, a white lie might help prop her up a bit.
“Y-Yeah, it was nice on the ears.”
Something akin to a blush settles on her face, and she breaks eye contact for a moment as she lets out a soft snort.
Oh God. Please don’t tell me she thinks that was a flirt.
She takes another step forward, and the spaghetti alarms begin to blare with the wildest hypotheticals possible.
No, there’s no way she’s gonna—she’s taking another step forward.
“I-I’m glad to hear that.”
Alright Anon—it’s been good, it’s been great even, but it’s time to book it the fuck out of here.
“Nice. S-so anyway uh, Fang, I’m gonna get going-”
“I-I was thinking I could pay ya back for helpin’ me out, at least?”
Two more steps forward are taken now, and I only manage to take one step back before she’s right up in front of me, the slightly-taller Pterosaur staring me down with a hazy look of… something.
Raptor Jesus, she really is still completely sloshed, isn’t she? Her pupils are dilated, and she absolutely reeks of alcohol.
Fuck, her wings are tattered, too…
“N-no thanks, I-I’m just happy to help, really. Look, I-I’ve really go-”
“C-C’mon, jjjjjust lemme give you a little-hic-shomething for your trouble, alright?~”
I can feel my entire body lock up in real time as she haphazardly throws her arms over my shoulders, leaning in and closing her eyes as she—wait what is she-
Oh fuCK DEFCON 1 DECFON 1, A DRUNKEN METEOR DODGER IS STEALING MY FIRST KISS!
Before I can even begin to react to the feeling of her glossed, scaled lips pressing against me, something pokes at my teeth before sliding past them—immediately, my tastebuds are assaulted with the taste of strong, pungent alcohol as her long, thin tongue slides into my mouth, and I reflexively manage to push myself away from her from pure reaction to the overpowering bitterness alone.
FUCK, that tasted like shit! D-did she really just try and get in my pan-
I can feel two sets of talons dig into my shoulders now, her grip going rigid as her head pushes back in, this time missing my face entirely and going over my shoulder.
Oh fuck I pissed her off, she’s gonna-
“hhhhueerghhh…”
…Did she just fucking puke all over my back?
A quick turn-around shows that her stomach ejection thankfully completely missed any part of me, instead turning the freshly-mopped floor behind me into a veritably acidic splash zone.
Shit, that’s gross. God dammit, it’s everywhere! Eugh, why does it look like that?!
It’s at this point that I realize she’s gone limp, on account of her body now slowly sliding down on my own.
Oh for fucks sake—I manage to catch her with one arm before she completely falls to the floor, fumbling with my pizza box in the other hand as… Fang, begins to shake and sniffle.
“G-God-fuhkin-damnit, I-I couldn’t even sh-shcore before I get put on the street…”
She’s slurring every other word now as she breaks down, her hollow eyes soullessly staring down at the ground as tears well up and fall from them in succession, the thoroughly-wrecked Saurian paying me no mind as she starts to cry in earnest now.
Slowly letting her down fully, I can only watch as she just stares at the floor, her hands hold the rest of her up as more and more tears run down her face, ruining her eyeliner as she weeps for herself.
I-I think I should just go.
This really isn’t my problem, and even if it was, there’s no way I could help.
The sorry case behind me continues to sob and cry as I start to back away, and I’m about to turn away until she mutters something else.
“I-I couldn’t pull it off, a-and now that’sh-it, isn’t it? I-I’m gonna die in shome fuckin’ alleyway without anyone knowin’…”
…Does she really have nowhere else to go?
Fuck, in this area of town? That really is a death sentence.
“I-I’m sho shorry, Nasey… I-I never meant to let you-gwuhhh…”
The mumblings stop after this, the girl now only hiccupping and weeping as she begins to dissociate.
…Just go, Anon. This isn’t anyone you know—she’s just another one of the downtrodden denizens of this horrible area. You can’t help her any more than she can help herself.
It’s better to just leave her, and let her figure it out on her own.
…
The thought of seeing her body on the side of the road tomorrow pops into my head without warning or care, and I immediately feel my skin starting to crawl.
...Fuuuuuuck!
FUCK!
FINE.
The sharp sigh I let out nearly hurts my throat as I turn around, and I march over to her guitar case and a little bag of… clothes? Shit, she wasn’t lying about having no home to go back to.
One night. I’ll help her ONE night, and that’s all.
The guitar and clothes are picked up by the same hand I’m holding the pizza box with, and I have to play a balancing game with my food and her stuff as I lean down and slide an arm under Fang’s shoulder, lifting the barely-conscious girl up and helping her along off the stage. Damn, for being a slight bit taller than me, she’s ridiculously light.
Shit, I can’t believe I’m doing this…
The side of me against all of this is immediately silenced when I see the uncaring looks the staff are giving me as the two of us stumble to the door however, and it becomes a matter of spite as I kick the shabby portal open. Fuck all of you, have fun picking up all of that puke on your stupid little stage.
Once we get clear of the restaurant, I just let out a sigh as my guard lowers, just a bit.
…
Fuck, I’m gonna have to sleep on the floor, aren’t I?
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
My alarm beeping drags me kicking and screaming out of my pitiful attempt at rest, and I can’t help but let out a groan as I feel my back tighten in several places all at once.
Hobbling over to my chair, I take a seat, twist my back, and give it the old reliable: All at once, my entire spine loudly cracks, and a loud, if not slightly-fruity groan of satisfaction and relief escapes me.
Shit, that was gay as fuck.
Before I can ruminate on ways to make sure I never, EVER make that sound again, something lightly shifting in the side of my vision makes me jolt.
Ah right, I have a soon-to-be-hungover Ptero girl in my house.
Great!
Fantastic.
Well, this is going to be a miserable conversation to have before my first day of class of all days, but first? I need a shower.
…
The lukewarm water thankfully gives my ever-so-sore back the break it needs, at least for the few precious seconds I have before it goes ice-cold, and it’s a short order to get dried off and in a new fresh new set of the old reliable combo from there.
Now, will she be up thanks to all the noise, or will I have to go about the awkward process of poking a stranger in the shoulder until they wake up in an unfamiliar place.
Alright Anon, just go out and do it–you’re the person who lives here, after all.
Just go out there and tell the person that could rip you to shreds to kindly leave as soon as possible.
Fuck, here goes.
Opening the bathroom door leaves me blind for a few moments as my eyes adjust to the darkness of the apartment, but it only takes a few seconds to see that my ‘guest’ is very much awake after all the noise of my morning routine.
The Ptero called Fang is sitting on the corner of the bed, her thin body curled tightly, packed into the most pathetic, scared-looking fetal position I’ve ever seen someone take in any medium.
G-Geez, what’s got her so spooked? All she’s doing is staring at my backpack.
As if she’s read my mind, her gaze slowly moves to me, eyes wide with a primal fear that makes my skin crawl.
It’s the kind of stare that someone gives you as you tell them their life is over.
After a few moments of this tense, awkward staredown, she finally speaks.
“...P-please be honest, a-are you a minor?”
Oh.
OH.
Ohhhh I see the problem now. Yeah, I think I would have the same reaction.
“No, I’m eighteen. I’m just still in high school, is all. We didn’t do anything last night either–I just took you back here since you were muttering about having no other place to go.”
I try to put everything as bluntly as possible, so there’s no room for any other errant concern–shit, she looked about ready to start yanking the feathers out of her elbows.
This thankfully works though, and immediately the grip she has on her own arms relaxes, and a soft, entirely-relieved sigh escapes her as she loosens up, just a bit.
Alright, now for the hard part.
“S-so, like, do you have anywhere else to go, or?”
All I get in response is a quiet shake of her head in response.
Great.
Fantastic.
Now I have to push the question.
“Do you think there’s any chance you can figure out where to go here before I go to school? Because like, I really don’t know you, and I don’t want to leave my stuff here wi-”
A soft scoff cuts me off, and Fang just rests her head against the wall.
“Dude, I’m going to put my situation as simple as possible: I have no place to go, where exactly would I take all of your stuff when stealing it?”
“To the nearest pawn shop.”
Her eyes widen as I give a very rational, very matter-of-fact answer with zero hesitation, the concept of such a place even factoring into her rhetorical question making her blink, before she just gives me a rather understanding look.
“Y-yeah, that’s fair, actually.”
It only takes a few seconds for her expression to change to a pleading one, though.
“H-hey, look… W-would you mind if I just stayed here until you’re out of school, at least…? I can-I can look up options, and I promise I won’t steal your shit or anything.”
Fuuuck, she’s trying to compromise…
I think she can see the exact thought process I’m going through too, because her pleading look only widens as she gives me the best imitation of puppy-dog eyes she can muster.
“Y-you kept me off the streets for a night, I promise that means something to me. I’m not gonna double-cross someone after they probably just saved my life.”
She winces, and a hand flashes up to rub at her head.
“...Not like I could even do anything strenuous right now anyhow–fuckin’ head is killing me.”
She has a fair point–damnit.
…Fiiiiiiiiine.
FINE, fine fine.
A loud sigh escapes me as my shoulders sag, and all I can do is exasperatedly pinch the bridge of my nose as I decide to not push the issue any further.
“...Fine.”
I REALLY don’t like how that word is becoming more common in both my thought processes and vocabulary as of last night.
Fang’s eyes widen even further, and a look of excitement mixed with relief washes over her as she fully slumps against the wall.
“Thank you, thank you so mu-”
“But we’re going to need to have a chat about your next steps after I’m home, because I need my bed if I’m gonna be able to function even a little bit at school.”
It’s a defendable point, but also entirely untrue–like I give a rat’s ass about school beyond doing good enough to keep myself from failing.
She doesn’t see through me there thankfully, nodding her head and giving me an affirmative ‘mhm’.
“Alright then, I’ve got to go now. You can… well…”
Ah shit, what’s it matter. I point to the TV, XRox, and phone charger respectively.
“There’s the TV, it has cable. There’s an XRox there if you wanna play any games, and the phone charger is right there if you need a charge. Just… keep yourself busy with trying to find a place until I’m back, I guess.”
Her gaze follows wherever I point with earnest attention–it’s kinda cute in a completely innocent way, like a dog following someone’s finger.
…Yeah that sounded really weird, shelving that thought forever.
“A-alright, thank you again, really.”
I just give her a nod for her troubles, and lean in to scoop up my backpack.
“Sooo, see you later, I guess.”
She blinks at me, staring for a moment before responding.
“Y-Yeah, see you later.”
With that, I take my leave, making sure to lock my apartment as I make my way down the steps to my first day of school.
…
Fuck, what a first day in Volcaldera.
Hopefully Volcano High grants me some much-needed leniency.