Welcome to the Playground

[...five years later...]

There was a dull rumble amid the endless void, the sounds of 89.7 Growl FM piercing through the veil of black. A shifting motion, up and down... no... back and forth... carried a shoving force with it as a pair of eyes slowly opened.

W-Was I asleep...? ...no, just another fuckin' blackout...

The eyes fluttered as they adjusted to their surroundings, the hazy blur coming into focus. The room was dark, although polluted neons glowed in the background, providing an eerie and inviting ambiance for those with a particular appetite as the shapes shifted and shadows persisted overhead. The shifting motion and shoving continued, accompanied by low masculine grunts buried in the clutter of bassy rhythms as warm breath washed against perspiring flesh. With every shove, a rush of pleasure followed.

As the figure overhead came into focus, the girl remembered where she was. She was flat on her back against ruffled and unwashed sheets, bent at an almost unnatural angle as the skin of her legs rubbed against her ears while a swollen member throbbed inside of her, stretching her pink walls wide open. She had in fact blacked out, but her reflexes quickly came back as she wrapped an arm around the neck of the man working in and out of her, nails digging into his back with her other hand reaching up as she bit her knuckle and moaned loudly. She was back in action, the flood of synthetic endorphins running rampant in her brain. Her eyes fluttered with a pink glow as she drooled over her fingers. The entire experience was intoxicating, and she was thoroughly intoxicated, barely able to string a syllable together as she moved with her partner to the rhythm of the music blasting over loud speakers.

The man slowed his tempo as the girl unwrapped herself from around him, instead pushing him up by the chest as she released his meat with a squelch and a whimper. She quickly turned over on her stomach, arching her back to present herself as she stretched her arms forward and swayed her ample hips side to side. The man growled as he pressed back in, firmly grabbing her hips and further ripping her waist-high black fishnet stockings as he resumed his work with a fistful of her hair.

The girl reached over to the bedside table, grabbing for something before the man swatted her hands away. He maintained a smooth and steady rocking motion as he reached for the object of her desire, a glass tray with a crystallized mix of pink and white powders spread over. He stopped rocking, letting the bed settle before he placed the tray down in front of her face. Like flies to honey, the girl grabbed for the tiny metal tube, inserting one end up her nostril and positioning the other end over a poorly cut line as she sniffed up hard. The pink glow in her eyes intensified, a deep exhale escaping as she laughed and started pressing herself back against her partner.

The man read her mind, thrusting again as he took the tray in one hand, his other hand holding the girl down by the back of her neck. Her face was shoved firmly into a soiled pillow, only her eyes visible with trashed and runny black makeup as they rolled back in her head and her lids quaked like butterfly's wings. Beads of sweat tinted pink were forming under the bangs covering her face, her entire body almost luminescent and covered in the same lather. The man admired her svelte figure, the long line of her tattooed back and wide hips. He tipped the tray over just enough to deposit some of the powder in between her shoulder blades before setting it back on the bedside table. She felt the man's nose buried between her shoulders, and the vibrations of a loud snort through her body before the wet tip of his tongue followed, lapping up any leftovers.

As their speed increased again, so did the girl's moans, in frequency and volume, her hands curling into fists as she grabbed the sheets between each finger. There was pain buried in the pleasure, but she welcomed it, unconsciously punishing herself as she tiptoed the fine line of blacking out again. With every shove, she felt more of her guts giving way to the man's cock, his swollen sack hanging heavy and slapping against her clit as he grabbed her by the ankles and folded her legs in, her heels digging into her ass. Her back was arched, her tiny bare breasts and razor sharp nipples teased against the mattress as she slid back and forth, again and again.

She felt the rush rising like a tidal wave from deep inside, shutting her eyes as she bit the pillow and screamed into it, begging for more. She wanted it, all of it. She wanted all of him inside her, his own moans turning to feral grunts as he pressed harder and deeper, the sweat pouring off both their bodies and soaking the bed. She wanted to cum, and she wanted his cum, desperate to milk him dry as she tried to slam her hips back in this precarious pretzel position. He pressed into her body, leaning forward and wrapping his arm around her neck as he pulled up. Her back arched even further as she fought to breathe, her tongue shooting from her foaming mouth as she gagged and laughed at him. She wanted to hurt, to feel him hurting her, and she ran her nails up and down her body before tweaking her own nipples as she choked in his iron grip.

All at once, she felt the rush again, her body tensing as her mind blanked and she screamed in pleasure at her partner's girth pumping inside of her. Her own juices gushed out, mixing with the seed and running down her legs as she felt her partner's teeth digging into her shoulder with muffled shouts. As the movement slowed and then ceased altogether as they stood against each other, breathing heavy and bodies soaked, the girl reached back and playfully scratched at her partner's peach fuzz scalp, giggling in postcoital bliss as her legs convulsed.

The man released his arm around her throat as she fell forward into the pillow. She lay there for several seconds, feeling the last bits of pleasure lighting up her brain and leaving as her sore and swollen cunt dribbled everything inside out and onto the bed. Her partner followed up with a not-so-gentle smack of his hand against her asscheek, eliciting a playful puppy-like squeal as the flesh bounced back and he said, "God damn, Maya..."

She laughed into the pillow as she tried to form a slurry sentence in a puddle of her own drool and sweat, "...I-I learned f-from the... b-best..."

"Girl, gash that good...", the man mused, trying to catch his breath and stay conscious as he wavered from side to side, "You should be running the rooms at Clouds..."

"Mmm... the party favors aren't as good...", Maya joked as she fought just as hard as her partner to keep her eyes open. Playful and cheeky as she looked on the outside, her mind was a flood of self-deprecating thoughts and unresolved destructive tendencies. Though she'd never say it loud, she hated herself and spent every moment trying to drown the pain in drugs and drink, all the while driven by the fact that she had to keep the lights on somehow. At the end of the day, she didn't need to say it. Anyone who knew Maya Valdez for more than five minutes since she'd moved into the Glen's H3 megabuilding could read her like an open book. She wore her damage on her sleeve for all to see.

In the first year since her father was killed during an anti-Arasaka demonstration gone horribly wrong, she and her brother were shifted and shuffled between what was left of his rapidly diminishing group of friends and supporters. Everyone pitied the two orphans, but nobody wanted to take responsibility. The Valdez name was poison at that point, and the both of them were declared untouchables. Anyone caught associating with or carrying forward Emiliano's legacy was promptly and swiftly dealt with by Arasaka's Section 9, either disappearing under mysterious circumstances or cut down in broad daylight. It was only a few months before the worst of the riots were finally put down, but the City burned nonetheless as a result. Arasaka owned the streets, that much was apparent. They had all but declared martial law in the immediate weeks following Emiliano's death. The city ground to a halt, and yet business carried on like nothing had ever happened. The rich still got richer while the poor languished away.

The second year was the hardest for both of them. With nowhere to go and no one left to turn to, Maya and Tony spent most of that time on the streets, begging for scraps and fighting for a place just to sleep without some horribleness being visited upon them in the dark of night. Maya watched as her father's posters were defaced or simply torn down, his life's work reduced to trash, and she tried her damndest to shield Tony from as many of the horrors of Night City as possible. She was only sixteen the first time she was offered 100 eddies, no questions asked, to service some fat corpo fucker in a dark alley. She had never seen that much scratch at one time, and although she never would have accepted otherwise, she had to consider the fact that she hadn't eaten in three days just so Tony could. The experience was eye-opening, and Maya started to notice that even as young as she was, heads turned when she walked by. More than she cared to admit, she caught people admiring her petite upper body and fully-formed hips, and she had always had a pretty face, just like her mother...

By the time she was seventeen, she'd been picked up by the NCPD a handful of times for indecency. Thank whoever for small miracles, once the pigs found out her last name, they washed their hands of it and tossed her back in the streets. At least she got to stay close to her brother instead of being shipped off elsewhere. With no other options, she gave herself up to the inevitable outcome: pussy paid the bills. She hated it... until the first time she tried Lace. The sheer rush of energy and pleasure surging through her tiny body from the synthetic endorphins and cocktail of stimulants and hallucinogens made her feel like a million eddies, and her johns seemed to like this version of her better. She was more enthusiastic, eager to please, and she came to crave the validation and flattery. The money wasn't anything to complain about either. She kept her brother fed and clothed, never once acknowledging that she was losing a part of herself with every snort and every suck.

Once she turned eighteen, she qualified for affordable housing in one of the megablocks, and she had enough saved to secure a two-bedroom apartment in the H3 building. This allowed her to further shield her brother from the sacrifices she made for them both, but choosing H3 specifically also kept her close to her dealers... and her clients. She had the chance to stop, to find some other work, but she was already addicted to her lifestyle... and the drugs. She was off the deep end by the time the second month's rent came due. In time, she didn't care anymore if Tony saw her, and he grew to quietly resent her for this. It's not what their father would have wanted, but he dared not turn his nose up at the fact of finally having a roof over their heads, no matter the cost. Instead, he became increasingly cold and distant from her, often disappearing for days at a time as he pursued other options. Young as he was, only 15 when they moved into the Block, he was smart and strong, and despite Maya's early efforts to shelter him, he was also streetwise. He knew there was a better way, but getting his sister sober enough to see his side of things was half the battle, and an uphill one at that.

Time for the come-down..., Maya thought as she breathed in deep, forcing herself awake as she rolled over onto her back, crossing her legs up and staring at the ceiling. She reached over to the bedside table for a pre-rolled joint, wetting one end with her tongue as she lit the other end and took a long drag while crossing one arm behind her head. Old habits die hard, they say, and she opened her mouth to let some of the smoke freely trail upward before a sharp suck in through her nostrils. She held the smoke for several seconds, letting it light up her lungs before she exhaled with a sleepy moan. She was in heaven for at least a few more minutes, and so she sought to enjoy it while it lasted.

She smirked, watching her partner quickly dress himself as she held the joint out and offered a hit. He gladly accepted, leaning in as he held the moist end between his lips and took a quick drag. He had his tight syn-leather pants buttoned, throwing a tattered black tanktop over his head as he exhaled and found the arm holes. He looked down at Maya for a moment, admiring her naked body glistening under the ultraviolet and neon lights as she was in her own world altogether, softly running her fingers up and down her stomach. He gently kicked the edge of the bed to get her attention as he said, "Hey... see you again... soon?"

She looked at him, pushing and leaning up on her arm as she bit her lip and motioned him to her. He was captivated, drawn closer before she reached around, grabbing him by the back of the neck as their lips met. She forced her tongue into his mouth, wanting to taste him. He closed his eyes and reciprocated, trying with all his might to not melt into her. After what felt like an eternity, she pulled away, slowly opening her eyes as she giggled and said, "You keep it up like this, I may even stop chargin' ya..."

The man laughed as he pulled away, reaching for a wad of physical eddies in his back pocket. He thumbed a few bills as he cautioned her, "Nah, 's better we stick to what we got, babe. This deal works better for both of us, and you know it."

Though she'd never admit it, or show it, Maya was saddened at hearing the words. Lifestyle aside, this was easily one of her favorite johns. He was gentle when he needed to be, and rough when she wanted him to be. He knew all her little tricks, and was eager to please. But the realization sank in that as much as she liked him, once that nut was busted wide open, it was strictly business for him.

He held the loose eddies in his hand, returning the larger stack to his pocket as he reached out. Maya was grabbing for the cash before he pulled his hand back, startled as the apartment's front door slid open. He watched closely as a skinny teenage boy entered, a disgruntled look on his face as his eyes cut away from Maya's room. The man recognized Tony, and Tony recognized the man, though he tried to pay no heed to what he already knew went down while he was out. The man's face suddenly twisted into something... disappointment, maybe?

He grabbed the stack from his back pocket again, thumbing another few bills loose into his hand. His entire demeanor had changed, and he unceremoniously tossed the scratch at Maya as he made his way for the front door, his barking voice trailing off, "Jesus CHRIST... get the kid a real fuckin' meal, Maya! I can see his ribs from here..."

The door slid shut, the thud resounding louder than it should have in Maya's head as she sat utterly bewildered on the bed, loose bills covering her and the sheets.

Where the fuck does he get off...?!

She scoffed and took another drag before ashing the butt in a nearby tray. She collected the scratch in a small pile, neatly organizing it as she called out, "Hey, Tony!"

There was no answer. She wasn't surprised that there was no answer. Just like her, Tony wore his emotions all over his face, never able to hide how he really felt about anything. It wasn't the first time he'd walked in on her conducting business, and sure as shit it wouldn't be the last. Still, even as her head was spinning, she forced herself to stand up from the bed as she tried to put her best foot forward. She was still leaking the efforts of her previous engagement, so a towel was the order for the moment. She looked around, finding only a small microfiber cloth bunched up on the floor at the corner of her bed. She reached down, nearly losing her balance as she grabbed the cloth and tried to stand back up.

There was no telling how old the cloth was or how many times she had already used it to clean herself. She didn't really care, and she propped one leg up on the bed as she wiped up and down, wincing slightly as the drugs wore off and she realized just how sore she was. As intense as the rush of Pop-Rocks was... powdered Lace mixed with an aphrodisiac known as Pink Fizz... so was the crash. She hurt all over, inside and out. So why couldn't she stop? She had probably asked herself that very question in the back of her mind a thousand times already, and she found the answer as she looked up in a filthy mirror hanging on the wall.

What the fuck happened to me...?

Maya stared at her emaciated visage staring back. Her cheeks were gaunt, eyes heavily bagged amid the running makeup streaking down her face from her own tears and spit. Her collarbones protruded awkwardly, as if the skin were hanging off of her altogether. Her flesh was bruised, both new and old, from the nonstop abuse she subjected herself to every day. She half expected to see tracks running up and down her arms, but a personal rule she hadn't yet broken like all the rest was to stay the fuck away from needles.

Not like she'd have a hard time, what with the way her veins ran taut across her forearms and hands. She remembered how soft and delicate her hands used to be, how all of her used to be. Now she was a collective pile of skin and bones... and ink. As she turned to look at her backside, she saw the large tattoo of a beheaded snake engulfed in flames covering most of her upper back. Her shoulders and upper chest were covered in a medley of black skulls and red roses with a single solid black band wrapped around her right arm just below the elbow and a horned succubus above. Each thigh had a simple lace garter design, and her left ass cheek had a pair of heart-shaped cherries. An arrow pointing down with a tribal design was spread across her lower back, just above the start of her ass crack; the design matched a similar tattoo wrapping around her still-pierced navel and adorning her stomach... her womb. That was her worth, her entire identity. No longer was she the bright-eyed and spunky firstborn of a beloved son of Heywood. Here and now, she was a drug-addled misfit toy.

She tore her eyes away from the mirror, a single tear running down her face as she knelt down and picked up a pair of syn-cotton shorts with a worn elastic band and a cropped tank-top. She put both of them on quickly, trying to at least appear somewhat decent despite the torn fishnets hanging loose as she ruffled her messy hair and walked out of the room into the common area of the apartment. The place was a wreck, several weeks of trash and unwashed clothes having piled up. At least with the wall-length windows open, the smell was replaced by the smells of the City, which weren't really much better.

She stopped at the doorway of the kitchen, eddies clutched in her hand, and turned to find Tony sitting at a small table, swiping up and down on a handheld deck. Again, Maya wasn't surprised to see him upset, his jaw clenched as he tried not to notice her. She leaned against the doorway and asked, "Hey... I'm going to shower, then... want to go grab some food?"

Tony didn't look up from the tablet as he answered, "Sure you're not too busy fuckin' every gonk on our level...?"

Maya scoffed, not that she had any lofty notions of what she did to earn, but more at the audacity of being judged for doing what she saw as the only option, and had been the only option for years. In her hazy mind, she had half a notion to ask her baby brother what the fuck he was doing to keep a roof over their heads, but she didn't want to ruin the remaining high with another argument. She bit her tongue, considering her words for a moment with a deep inhale to calm herself, releasing the breath slowly as she looked at Tony for a few moments.

Recent difficulties aside, she was proud of the young man he was turning into. He was just as handsome as their father, and if he could crack a smile, he'd be just as charming. His hair was shaved up on both sides, a tousled shag of black hanging over his head. To the previous john's point, he could use some meat on his bones, but he was still strong. And most importantly, he was smart. Way smarter than Maya, and she was happy to concede that point. If he could keep his head on straight, he'd go far in the City. But like all teenagers, he had his own issues for the moment, and whether or not Maya realized it, most of them were to do with her.

She tested the waters again, leaning in as she spoke softly, "Look, Tony... I-I don't want to fight... I just want to get out of here for a bit. It's my treat, okay? Whatever you want."

He sighed, masking a grumble under his breath as he dropped the deck on the table. His eye twitched before he turned to look at his older sister. He honestly wondered if she had any idea what she looked like from the outside anymore. Once upon a time, she had a luxurious mane of long black hair hanging down almost to her waist. Some time over the last year, she'd chopped most of it off, only sporting messy sideswept bangs covering one side of her face just below the jaw, the frayed ends dyed a deep-fried neon green. She always had a smaller build, but her habits had left her looking like the walking dead. She needed a good meal almost as much as he did. Powder and booze made for one hell of a diet...

And then there were the tattoos. The snake, Tony could at least understand the deeper meaning behind it; hell, he could even empathize with her. There was no good answer in his mind for the rest of them, particularly the tramp stamp or the womb tattoo, except that Maya was blatantly advertising herself as, "open for business", and the thought of that turned his stomach. He knew in the early days that she was just doing what she had to for both their sakes, but her current predicament of fully embracing the lifestyle was entirely of her own making. He wanted like hell to pull her out of it, but she had to make that first step herself, and despite his best efforts, she was just as stubborn as he was.

After far too long of just staring, Tony begrudgingly nodded and said, "Okay... fine...", before turning back to the deck on the table. Maya cracked a slight smile, hoping this was at least a baby step in the right direction, "Okay... I'll just be five minutes."

She bounced on the balls of her feet as she walked back toward her room, turning at the last second to the shared bathroom as she quickly disrobed, avoiding looking in the mirror altogether as she stepped in the shower and hit the button. The hot water poured out, the steam rising as soon as it hit her body, and all at once the relief washed over her as she closed her eyes and leaned against the wall...

Maybe just ten minutes...

--

[Kenmore Diner - Mission Street, Arroyo, Santo Domingo]

The small yellow and teal waterfront establishment was unsurprisingly packed like a can of sardines for a late afternoon. Maya and Tony were lucky to get a table, otherwise having to resort to holding their food and standing. And even luckier, they were able to dine inside, not subjected to the polluted stink of the harbor's waters. Still, the entire place reeked of old fryer grease and body odor, and only the bravest of souls sat directly at the counter. But for what it was, the Kenmore made for a good greasy spoon without having to shell out for Tom's Diner. There were certainly worse places to get a burger, or what passed for a burger by today's standards. And it was close by, only a ten minute walk across the canal from the Block.

Maya sat across the small table from Tony, picking at her food and marveling at just how sticky the plastic surface was on which her tray sat. She didn't know which was worse, the tabletop or the floors, and she tried not to think too hard about it. The drugs still in her system already left her without much of an appetite. Tony didn't seem to mind, shoveling food into his mouth as fast as he could and drowning it with heaping gulps of NiCola. For as thin as he was, his order came out to three cheeseburgers and two orders of fries. He really was starving. Maya sat humbly with her plain burger and carbonated RealWater, probably the healthiest thing she'd put in her body in almost a month.

Not a lot was said between them on the walk over, but what was there really to say? Maya hadn't seen Tony in almost a week, and anything she might say was met with a snide comeback. She already felt his disapproving glare in the fact that even just going out to eat, her choice of attire was little more than an invitation for passersby. She really hated how much things had deteriorated between them over the last year since moving into the Block. She knew what was behind it, and yet she couldn't stop herself. Why couldn't she stop herself...?

She was pulled from her own mind and looking out the window as Tony called to her with a mouthful of food, "Not hungry?"

Maya looked down, only having taken three small bites of her burger, and she shook her head, "Not really... just... wanted to get some air and make sure you were fed..."

Tony stopped chewing for a moment, eyes turning upward as he saw his sister staring at him with a longing. He knew what she was thinking. She wished they could go back to just being kids, to how things were before. Her own demons aside, she still looked after him just like she always had. He smiled, still with a mouthful of food as he muffled, "...thanks..."

She tried to bridge the distance between them as she asked cautiously, "So... it's been a couple days... where ya been?"

Tony navigated the mouthful of food, swallowing hard as he carefully considered his answer, "Been... been looking for work. Try and help out, y'know?"

"Really ought to be focusing on school...", Maya took her chance, "You're a smart kid, Tony. I can hold it down 'til you finish..."

"Yeah... school worked out really well for you, right?", Tony snapped back, his entire mood changing in an instant. Maya was taken aback, eyes wide and mouth agape as Tony continued, deciding then and there to lay it all out for her, "It's time I cut my teeth in this City... we both saw how it ended trying to do it the right way, so now I'm doing it my own way..."

Maya tried to talk him down, "...Tony, I—"

"I can look after myself, Maya...", Tony cut her off, "Padre's got a good crew around him, even a few guys my age... and he's given us some small jobs..."

"Tony!", Maya couldn't believe what she was hearing as she spat, "T-That's not... 'Tinos are way too dangerous! Papá wouldn't have wa—"

"What?! He wouldn't have wanted that life for me?!", Tony fired back, his voice raised to the point that the other patrons were looking at them, "Who the fuck are you to tell me... you think Dad wanted you turning tricks? You think he wanted you fucked up and face down in a mattress all day, every day?!"

Maya felt the tears forming, seeing the same in Tony's eyes as he kept twisting the knife deeper, "You know what it feels like to hear every swingin' dick in the block making jokes about you? The sideways looks?! You probably don't... you're too busy tearing yourself up to even notice!"

By now, everyone else in the diner had stopped eating, or talking. All eyes were glued on the verbal pissing match taking place in their very midst. Maya retracted inward, shoulders sunk and head sagging as she tried to hold it together. Tony kicked the chair back with a crash as he stood up, fists clenched. He wanted so badly to say so much more, but seeing his sister on the verge of tears brought him back just enough from the edge. He tried to calm his breathing as he lowered his voice, "Don't ever tell me how to live my life until you fix yours..."

The regret welled up inside of him, and he knew there was no coming back from this. He said what he said, all of it from the heart. And yet, for all his frustrations with her, Maya had never once walked out on him, never left him to fend for himself. She was always there for him, fucked up as she was most of the time. She gave herself up so he would never have to, and in that moment, he couldn't even look her in the eye as he said with a deep sigh, "I... look... I got to go see Rafael... got a job. Don't wait up, okay?"

Maya didn't even acknowledge the words, biting her lip as her face contorted and she scratched at her arms and the shaved side of her head. Tony gave one last shot at making amends before turning to leave, "...t-thanks for the food... and I'm sorry..."

Still no response, and Tony walked briskly out of the diner, leaving Maya alone at the table as she finally caved. She propped both elbows against the sticky tabletop as she held her head in her hands and cried. As was all too often the case in Night City, as soon as it was all over, everyone else went right back to minding their own business. Everything around her was falling apart, and she was lost in all of it. She just wanted what was left of their family to keep going. She had already lost so much, and now she felt like she was losing her baby brother to the churn as well. What hurt most of all, more than his words, more than anything, was that she knew she was to blame for it. She had failed him, and so she had failed their parents, and it broke her heart.

--

[Some time later - Megabuilding H3, the Glen, Heywood]

The walk back to the Block was long and solemn, and most of all lonely. The sun had set, leaving the twilight sky a shade of polluted purple and orange, but with the flood of neon signs and headlights at the street level, it was hard to appreciate the subtle beauty. This deep in the jungle, it was always dark.

Maya spent most of the walk smoking a joint and beating herself up, head hung low and hands in her jacket pockets. She was torn in so many directions, she didn't even know where to start. Every subtle crash of her not-so-subtle platform heels against the concrete sidewalk brought a different fleeting thought to the front of her mind. More than anything, she just wanted Tony to be safe. She wished that she hadn't driven him to this life... that she hadn't driven him away. Some dark part in the back of her mind barked that she couldn't stop even if she wanted to, and her biggest fear in that moment was being proven right.

For the first time since moving into the Block a year ago, she saw Tony's grievances over her life choices realized with her own eyes. Even in a sixty-story arcology housing 128,000 souls, she couldn't help but notice the eyes following her, watching her every move. She felt them admiring the ample sway of her hips and her ass hanging out of a pair of denim cut-offs, the empty and glazed-over come hither look in her eyes, and even the small bead of saliva forming on her bottom lip as she thought of her next fix and what she'd have to do to earn it. She felt the itch of their filth all over her, but that could just as easily be the aches and shakes of a crash or the underlying beginnings of permanent nerve damage.

As she boarded the massive cargo elevator, she rushed to the back, nestling into the corner as she turned and watched others board in front of her. Even with their backs to her, she still felt them watching her. She felt as vulnerable and unprotected as she did at sixteen. And with that sensation, the memories she tried so hard to drown rushed back. She remembered the first time she was bent over an oil drum in a dark alley and taken by some fat fucking suit. Even if money changed hands, she didn't want it. She never wanted her first time to be like that. She remembered the way he barreled into her with no warning, and the way his meaty hands and sausage fingers violated every inch of her small body. She remembered the way he slobbered all over himself, snarling like an animal. She remembered his stench; cheap sake, noodles, and stale cigar. Most of all, she remembered his heinous laugh piercing her ears as he finished inside of her and left her exposed, hurting and wanting nothing more than to die right then and there. She wished some cyberpsycho had shown up to just blow her brains out.

Maya reached up with both arms, fists clenched as she tried to hide her face. The laughing had returned, piercing her ears and violating her all over again as she trembled. She felt it growing inside of her, consuming her, blocking out everything else. She heard her own whimpers drowned out, and then all at once it ceased with the ding of the elevator.

Sudden silence, save for the crowd of people shifting and shouting over each other to disembark the elevator. Maya nearly missed her cue that this was her level, barely squeezing through the closing gates at the last second. She looked around for a second, almost lost as to where to go next. During the day, the entire block was illuminated by the natural sunlight shining through the open-air atrium and filtering down. At night, only dim fluorescents and barely working flood lamps guided one's way unless they were lucky enough to be in the market sectors where the various shops and stalls shone bright with their advertisements and hung signs. In reality, the entire block was a depressing shit-heap, but Maya would take it any day over being back on the streets.

She wiped her eyes as she turned and started on the homestretch. She just had to make it past the markets and a long stretch of open hallway. Somehow even that felt like a tall order in her current state. Her gait was shiftless and disaffected as she moved among the sea of unwashed masses. The walk itself wasn't even the problem. It was the people along the way. All over again, she felt the eyes following her, the voices whispering. She tried to duck out of the way, cutting between a few carts selling various odds and ends. Before she even realized, she had swiped a bottle of vodka from one of the carts. She waited for the screams and shouts in her general direction, but they never came. Had she really gotten away with it?

She walked few more paces before she cracked the bottle open and took a victory swig... one hell of a swig. She managed to down nearly a fifth of the bottle in one run, her face twisting from the burn down her throat as she guzzled grain alcohol like it was RealWater. Still, it was something to calm her nerves. Blasts from the past like that didn't do her any favors, and she was frazzled enough already.

She started to ease up, her pace picking up speed as she tried to hold her head high. She couldn't explain why, but she certainly wasn't going to complain. As long as she got home soon, she could just crash out and hope for a better day tomorrow. Maybe Tony would be back by then...

She shook her head with a scoff. He said his piece as plainly as possible and washed his hands of the whole matter. He had better places to be. Maya took another swig from the bottle as she tried to wash all of it from her brain. If he was old enough to walk out on her, he was old enough to look after himself.

As if to drive the point home of his earlier words, Maya's attention was drawn to a group of three musclebound meatheads covered in Valentinos ink, each of them over half a foot taller than her, and one of them calling her way "Oye chica! You're Tony's sister, right...? Maya?"

She almost didn't stop before a lightbulb clicked on in her head. If Tony didn't like the sarcastic remarks from the regular gonks in the Block, how would he react if they came from his own comrades? She slowly turned, allowing her hair to mask the one side of her face as she looked the ganger in the eyes, "Who's askin'?"

The ganger smiled, stifling a laugh as he looked to his chooms before pulling a clear glass vial and a wad of eddies from his bomber jacket. Maya recognized the pink and white powder mix immediately, salivating again as she tried to keep her composure. She smiled as that dark part of her took over again, flipping her hair out of her face as she pulled open the folds of her jacket to reveal a tight black tube-top and traced a finger along her exposed collarbone, "A hundred eddies..."

The ganger squared off, his two chooms joining him in stepping forward as he smirked, "A hundred eddies...?"

Maya broke into a full smile, flashing her teeth with a raised eyebrow and a wicked shine in her eyes, "...each..."

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