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Okay, I’m going to make this fairly quick as I’m between soccer games right now and should probably be doing homework. I have part of a story (the beginning, actually), which I’m going to post after a quick story (the one I’m posting is about the embittered drunk, FYI).

Okay, so this weekend is going to be very busy for me. I went to a massive conglomeration of art exhibitions downtown known as First Friday’s, since it’s done on the first Friday of every month. This morning (repulsively early) I went to a soccer game, came home, had food and a shower, and am now killing time between games. Directly after my game I’m going to a wedding, then I have a third game Sunday morning, and have plans with friends that afternoon.

Because of a few successful (and cheap) purchases, I have now decided to paper my entire room with different forms of art, whether it’s band posters or scribbles, etc.

Now that we’re done with the gripping tale of my weekend plans, I suppose I’ll give you my snippet. It’s a bit rough around the edges, and will likely undergo some modifications later on. Please forgive any errors, typos, and inconsistencies.

Lin sat in an armchair, relaxed position belied by her drumming fingers and the gun stuffed in the seat cushion to her right. She sipped from her glass, ignoring the way the alcohol seared her throat. “I knew you would come.”

A girl stepped out of the shadows. Not a girl any more, a woman. Early twenties. But Lin had known her as a kid, so she would always be one in her eyes. “This isn’t like you,” Shirin said, flicking her long brown hair over her shoulder.

Lin laughed harshly. “You know me?”

Shirin looked hurt. Lin almost managed to not care. “You never drink. Hate the way it dulls your senses. Always said alcohol never helped, only made whatever your problem was seem worse.”

Lin drank again. “No I didn’t. I said it made your problems hurt worse,” which is kind of the point. “What do you want, Shirin?”

“What happened to you? This isn’t the Tigress I knew.”

“The Tigress is dead.” Long live the drunk.

“Jake saw you last month. Said you looked okay.”

“Good enough to fool even Jake, huh. Not bad.”

“So something is wrong.”

“No, I just picked up drinking because I thought it would be fun.” As if I, Lin Fucking Santiago, would suddenly cut off all contact with the people who were my world for the past seven years for no reason. Im surprised Shirin thinks so. Kind of hurts. Suppose I deserve it. She took another drink.

“Out with it, then.” Shirin folded her arms, pulling herself up to her full height of five feet four inches.

“I woke up,” she said coldly, “what are you fighting for, Shirin? What’s the point?”

“I fight for a cause. One that you introduced me to.”

I cant believe she used that against me. Thats sick. “I’m sorry for it. The cause is dead. What do we fight for? To have the people we’re pointed at win nine times out of ten, and for every one that falls have ten spring up?”

“So that’s what this is about? You weren’t winning every battle so you gave up?”

Lin stood abruptly, pushed herself into the taller woman’s personal space. “Are you calling me a quitter?” she asked in a deadly whisper.

Shirin’s chin jutted out defiantly. “You quit, didn’t you?” A fair point.

“This isn’t about my pride. This is about knowing when a battle is lost. Half the time the targets we’re put up against didn’t do much of anything wrong, while the boss-man lets all the big fish go free.” Not her reason for quitting and trying to drown herself in alcohol. It’d be good enough for Shirin, though. She was passionate, but she wasn’t great at reading people. Particularly people like me.

“Then go freelance with me.”

Lin sprawled out in her chair again. “Give me one reason why I should drag my ass out of this pleasant drunken stupor and off this chair to fight for a cause I don’t believe in?”

“The stupor isn’t pleasant. Besides, I doubt you’ve completely given up on us.”

“Why’s that?”

“You haven’t shot me yet.”

Lin tipped her drink in the younger woman’s direction. “True, you’re not dead yet. Consider it lenience for old time’s sake.”

“Bull.”

“Excuse me?”

“You were never sentimental.”

“Jake’s listening in. Telling you what to say.” No way she’d pull that. Should’ve known when she mentioned me bringing her into the cause.

Shirin licked her lips. “Maybe. Will you at least think my offer over?”

Lin sighed, setting her drink aside and bracing her elbows on her knees. “Okay, fine,” she paused. “Done. Won’t do it.”

“Lin–”

“You’re wasting your time. Go home.” That’s another thing about Shirin. She never knows when to give up on a lost cause.

Shirin folded her arms. “We’re not done.”

“I am. Goodbye, Shirin.”

TBC

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