"Its always gotta be rain, always gotta be fucking rain.
A strap was pulled out of taut pants, which were sullied with liquid rain. Just feet away from the entrance of the closest building she could reach, a young woman cursed to herself under the dimming night, and the patters of rain here and there. Stretching her shirt out to twist water from it. She had walked maybe eight blocks in the torrential downpour and could feel a chill just sitting under the crevice of her nose, right on her philtrum. No doubt, her body was going to have a field day with the fever the rain would produce. Though in the end, she had no choice, her mini jet sat in the main hanger of MARKET 1, and she was forced to leave it there in case those Zebra's from two weeks ago were still attempting to follow her trail across each of the stations. She was marked by the gang, and would need to be disposed of, this much she gathered from their attempts to kill her and the agent who sought her company for those few months. Suddenly she stared into the nexus of stars above as the rain, and the clouds cleared from the sky and wondered whether or not she secured his safety. Admittedly, she grew to care for him, though in a maternal sense, he had naivete of a child which probably allured him to her anyways.
Her clothes had shrunk and attached to her body in a distressing pattern. The fabric nipped as she walked into the entrance of the club, her ebony hair irradiated as the dim light under the bar cast over her head. She stripped off her jacket as it dripped water onto the bar's floors, which the bartender was quick to quip her about with the scowl he gave her. She nearly flipped him off, but instead gave him a morbid look before tying the cloth around her waist to keep from losing it in case she decided to leave anytime soon. Rhea looked across each of the seats beside her filled with eager men who had famishing eyes, she moved her attention to whatever they were staring at so intently. A woman, maybe a little older, but certainly more sophisticated came onstage. She tipped her head to the side, marveling at her attractiveness and her suave voice. Closing her eyes, she grasped a drink beside her, and listened, leaning on the counter, her lips in a slight pout. She took a sip of what tasted like Bourbon, slightly astringent for someone her size, but she sipped anyways. Imagining the little club as one of those old fancy occasions that the wealthy attended. She wouldn't be too far off with that thought, some of the audience members looked like high rollers. For once it wasn't the loud amplitude of water falling in her ears, but instead pleasant music, and her clothes were drying off in the warm room. Finally, a little stretch of comfort in the last two weeks since leaving her old tedious, apartment based life, in a silent slum. The universe was more than going to the marketplace and buying some groceries. This she felt, was probably even better than the life she lived before even that, the life she could not recall or maybe she forced herself not to dwell on it.
Before she knew it the song ended, she stared around and noticed one of the men rushing backstage, and most of the others either turning back to the bar, or leaving. She placed her drink down, took a tie out of her small satchel, and bound her hair in a ponytail. It was when she reached into her pocket and tried to scour around for money that she realized that all she had were soggy, deteriorated bills, which folded and tore as soon as she tried to pull them out. At least the bartender went off to serve another customer while she contemplated her plan for escaping. She tapped the counter for a moment, before looking towards the entrance to the backstage as she watched one of the customers leave to no doubt talk to the singer herself. She scooted her chair slightly, being meticulous in the way she sneaked around the bar. She made it seem like she was nothing but a normal customer probably going off to the restroom. She looped around the room, pushing through casual customers and then near the backstage door, to which no one noticed her escaping to. It was when she heard the voice of the I.P.F member, that she backed away, and leaned on an alcove not too far from the stage and the bar, the guards couldn't see her, and she guessed the other man couldn't too. Though she felt that this small little coup would keep her safe, and her senses told her that the restroom would have no window to her luck. She cast off a worried glace towards the bar as her drink sat placid, and the bartender looked around the empty space.
"Shit I have to think of something soon."