Excerpts van Compagnie
Uit Chapter 4 | LaGuardia
March 31 4:52 PM
The little cafe is a certifiable transplant trap. If it wasn't obvious from the outside, on the streets where trees have sweaters and where passersby could see posters with slogans like "Fuck ICE" and "All Rights Are Human Rights" plastered to the windows, the interior drove the point home. It was ritzy, had QR code menus, and served matcha. Only difference between here and LA were the baristas, who were dressed almost business casual instead of boho or alt.
At least the tea smells sweet and floral, like that garden in Orange County she visited years ago, before she was signed, before she ever even thought to make an OnlyFans account. She still thought she was going to be on TV, in a some cool series with too many seasons, playing a character like some Jennifer Jareau, if she was a mixed girl from the Heights instead of an all-American blonde.
Uit Chapter 5 | The Players Club
February 30 5:34 PM
The brute gathers her cinnamon-colored curls up in his big fist, tugs gently to expose her throat and the jumping muscle there. The girl whimpers. Cynthia feels her own pulse begin to jack rabbit.
“If there are no objections…?” Says the pale-eyed man, with the hint of question. When he gets no response, he nods to the big man curlty. The blade is lifted, glinting under the stage lights.
“Wait!” Someone cries out. It takes a moment for Cynthia to realize it was her. She is gripping the edges of her seat cushion, sweating at the palms, teeth gritted. She feels the weight of nearly a hundred pairs of eyes fall on her.
She had hoped never to have an audience like this again. Dissecting.
Uit Chapter 4 | Bryant Park
November 30 6:38 PM
It is a dreary day for a protest.
The rain pools in uneven patches of concrete and asphault, and the low lying plants are heavy under the downpour.
Aria and Leanore stand at the northern entrance of Bryant Park, cataloguing the other attendees.
"Clarify something for me, love." Leonore’s Castilian tongue makes the words sound like clahreefy sumthing for me, luv. It’s such a lovely accent. Aria is sure she’s playing it up; Leonore’s family has been exiled from Spain for fifty years. One simply doesn’t keep an accent for that long. Even vampires. "Why are we here? What do you get out of this?"
Uit Chapter 3 | LaGuardia
February 28 11:20 PM
In the handicap stall, certified crashout Misty Jervis and her latest victim, Yessica Sanchez, were popping pills or sharing razorblades or something like that. They were blasting Interpol, so no one outside their little bubble could hear the finer details of their activities. Misty was another one making a mess on her head. She had started the school year with Kool-Aid colored hair, which had faded to something like apple juice over her natural blonde.
She was like, genuinely emo, which Vicky and Cyn both agreed was a little gauche. It was one thing to have a penchant for the spooky—Vicky liked the really gorey horror movies and Cyn sometimes wore too much eyeliner—but to actually do the whole studded belt and lip piercing thing felt like trying too hard.
Uit Chapter 1 | West Village
February 28 11:48 PM
When Julia opens her eyes, it is dark. It is cold. The floor is smooth and hard and pooling with some warm substance that sticks to her cheek when she feebly lifts her head. The tips of her fingers tingle like she’s been out in winter without gloves.
Distantly, like its coming from another room, Julia hears some gentle, crooning rock ballad. Phil Collins, maybe. The night up til now trickles back into her mind. It feels like waking up from a dream. But there is a peristant ache in her neck, probably from passing out with her head at a weird angle, and all Julia wants is to keep sleeping until it goes away. Warm vinyl crackling cradles her as Julia retreats back into her mind.