In a New York Minute

by Bryn Wolfe

It was the most wonderful time of the year. Well, maybe for someone else it was. For Bryn, it could have possibly been the worst time of the year. It was the day after Christmas, when most people were still caught up in the festivities and good-tidings of the holiday. All she could focus on was Christmas Eve. Merely two days previous, her world had come crashing down around her. It had all been perfect up until that point – spending Christmas Eve with Drago was supposed to have been a wonderful night. About a half an hour into the festivities the evening took a turn for the worse.

*****

"Hey there, honey," a smooth speaking hussy named Vanessa purred as she slipped her arms around Drago’s neck. He acquired a shocked look the moment she touched him, and didn’t lose that look until Bryn reached over with a frown and forcibly removed the girl’s arms from around her boyfriend. She gave her a sweet smile, laced with a foreboding look. Vanessa glared at her, her hands on her hips. "And who do you think you are?"

"His girlfriend, a bit more respectable than you," Bryn shot back, matching her glare. A bit, she thought, but not that much. Vanessa just looked her over.

"Really, now?" she asked, but then she paused. "You look vaguely familiar. You come in here often or something?"

"Never before, actually." She was growing tired of small talk with a girl that represented what she had escaped from.

"Then I must’ve seen you somewhere else. I know your face."

"I don’t believe I’ve seen you before," she said, looking over at her.

"Oh, but I do believe you have," Vanessa said, studying her once more. "You a New Yorker from birth?"

"No."

"I thought not. Where are you from then?"

"Chicago," Bryn said automatically.

"Then of course I knew you, I spent a good deal of time in Chicago," Vanessa said with a smirk, and then a small laugh escaped her lips. Bryn tensed. This couldn’t be good. "And you say that you’re respectable?"

"What are you talking about?" she asked nervously, paling.

"I think you know very well what I’m talking about. You were one of those girls at Madame Celia’s house for lonely men," Vanessa said with a malicious grin. Bryn’s heart sank. This girl knew who she was, there was no doubt about that.

"I...I think you’re mistaken," Bryn stammered, feeling all the colour drain from her face.

"No, I definitely recognize you now," she said, her tone taking on a meaner twist. "Bryn, right?" Bryn closed her eyes for a moment, but then silently turned back to the bar and took a sip of the drink Benvolio had set out for her. She could hear a low chuckle a few seats away and knew that Tino had it figure out as well. "Your lack of response only convinces me of my correctness. Go ahead, try and deny it."

There was no way she could, and she knew it. She knew her name, where she was from, and her former residence. It all added up to a ruined night and possibly a ruined life. As Vanessa stepped closer, she watched her carefully. "Then who’s this?" she asked, running her hand slowly along Drago’s shoulder. "A boyfriend? Not for the likes of you." That was the last straw. Not only was she publically humiliating her, she was also touching Drago. She turned and slapped her hard across the face, glaring at her. No one was allowed to touch him but her, that’s just the way it was.

As she turned back to her drink, Vanessa stalked off to the backstage area. Her cover was blown, that’s all there was to it. Completely and entirely ruined. At least Tino was amused, since he hadn’t stopped chuckling since he had figure it out. Myrtille, the sweet French girl who currently had her arms around Benvolio, looked at her sympathetically and gently tried to console her by saying, "Ignore her, she’s always like that."

Nodding was all she could offer as a response to what should have been slightly calming to her. All she was now was nervous and fidgety. Tino’s chuckling kept getting louder and louder, all the while she was just looking around at everyone, paranoid that someone else would have figured out what Vanessa had. When a hand touched her shoulder, she pulled away quickly and looked over to see who it had been. She bit her lip, her expression softening when she saw herself face to face with Drago.

*****

As tinsel flew from Annette’s hand to Bryn’s face, she was jerked back to reality of the present. She didn’t know, Bryn knew, and she liked it that way. There was a great possibility in her mind that she would be kicked out of the house if she knew. "Oh, sorry!" Annette exclaimed, realizing she had hit her with the tinsel.

"It’s alright," she said, offering her a small smile as she glanced over. With any luck, she would entirely forget that Christmas Eve ever happened.

"And how're doing on the day after Christmas?" she asked cheerfully, still digging tinsel out of and off the piano. There was no response but a shrug to appease her question. This seemed to spark her memory and she frowned. "Which reminds me, you never told me why you ran out of the party."

Damn. She had been doing well with avoiding that question until then. She bit her lip and looked over at her. "I was hoping you’d forget, truthfully..."

"Bryn, I'm in charge around here," Annette said, throwing tinsel at her purposely and hitting her in the face again. "I'd appreciate knowing what's going on."

"Do I have to?" Bryn asked, wrinkling her nose and throwing the tinsel to the floor. Annette was right up there on the list of people she didn’t want to know.

"I’d like you to."

"I’m not sure you would."

"Actually, I would," she said, looking over at her. "I like to know what's going on with people, so I can try and help out." Bryn bit her lip, staring at her hands for a moment.

"Fine." With that, Annette sat down on the piano bench and waited for her to continue. "Do you remember all that stuff that...girl said?"

"Vanessa?" she asked, rolling her eyes. "She’s a bitch."

"Yes, but..." she continued quietly, really unsure of telling her this, "everything she said was true."

"Really?" Annette asked with a look of surprise. "I’d never have pegged you like that."

"I have changed, you know..."

"No offense meant, I’m just saying..." Annette stated with a shake of her head.

"So," Bryn said with a frown. "You aren’t going to kick me out?"

"Of course not," she said with a little laugh. "Where would you get a ridiculous idea like that?" Bryn just looked at her a moment, not sure if she was serious or not. The house they both lived in was operated by a church – surely they wouldn’t want girls with loose morals hanging about.

"Not everyone is that accepting. That's why I left."

*****

"Bryn, are you well?" Drago asked, obviously worried. A dozen different responses flashed through her head, but none of them were true. All she had to do was pick one and it would work fine.

"Yes," she said, quickly, nodding. Ah yes, the easiest response of them all. Short, to the point, and an utter lie.

"If you need to talk to me, I am here," he said gently. He didn’t seem to believe her, and she couldn’t blame him. It was too obvious. With a nod, she acknowledged what he said, and then she quickly gulped down what was left of the liquor in her glass. As she set the glass down, Drago gently took her hand in his. "Let’s go somewhere and talk." He gestured to a table that was perhaps halfway across the room. Not all that thrilled at the possibility of circumstances that could come from this, she bit her lip and let him lead her across the room.

"Thank you," she said softly after he pulled out a chair for her. She sat on the edge of her seat, ready for an experience that was anything but pleasant. He sat across from her and watched her with a gentle expression.

"Are you certain that you are well?"

"I’m...I’m fine," she said, looking away with a sigh. "It’s just that girl..."

"You should not worry about her," he stated with a frown. Obviously he didn’t think highly of her, though Bryn couldn’t imagine why anyone would. "There is no way that I would believe such an obviously false accusation." Bryn just stared at her hands, falling silent. He didn’t believe the truth. It would be far worse if she had to tell him. After a moment of silence, he softly inquired, "why would something so untrue worry you so?"

"It’s not," she said in a shaky voice, not daring to make eye contact. She would surely cry if she did, and now was not the time or the place. How could he not add it up? How else would she have known her name?

"But it is worrying you. I can see it plainly." He had misinterpreted. If she had to keep saying it, there would be no way for her not to be crying when he finally figured it out.

"No, you don’t understand," she said as she looked up at him, tears shining in her eyes. "It’s not untrue. It’s the plain and simple truth of the past."

"What?"

"I was a whore," she finally said, looking away from him. If he would have just picked up on the subtle hints it wouldn’t have been so bad, but that she actually had to say it was the worst part. She looked over at him as he abruptly stood up and walked away from the table. That was what she could not stand to see – him upset; especially at her. She stood and walked over to him. "Drago..."

"Leave me alone." He wouldn’t even look anywhere near her, let alone at her.

"You don’t understand..."

"Please, leave me alone."

"Just listen to me..." she pleaded, resting her hand on his arm.

" I told you to leave me be," he said sharply, his tone raising a little as he brushed her hand off his arm. She didn’t move, she couldn’t. Never before had he used a tone anything like that with her, and she couldn’t stop staring at him because of it. Finally, he looked at her. It was far worse that she expected. There was a look of disgust on his face as he turned his gaze on her, almost that of absolute detestation it seemed. She couldn’t stand it; tears flowed freely from her eyes as she ran out of the bar.

*****

"Listen, I’m going to go talk to him," Annette said firmly a while later. "Tell me what you need to say." Oh, the possibilities of things she wanted him to hear. She didn’t want to fill his day with her endless rants, though, so she decided that simply what was necessary would work."Well, he should at least know why."

"Okay, then why?"

"Because," Bryn said, her tone cold and her face expressionless, "My brother was a lazy bastard and put me in a brothel when I was thirteen and I wasn't able to get out. That's why. It wasn't by choice."

"Then he should definitely understand," Annette said nervously, her voice a mere sad whisper as she looked at Bryn with widened eyes.

"I hope so."

"Don’t worry, Bryn," she said, nodding a little. "This will definitely work out."

"Thanks, Annette," she said softly, watching as the other girl slipped her coat on and went out the door. She could be hopeful, but she was so unsure. In the back of her mind all she could see was rejection and that disgusted look on Drago’s face. Even when she had been a prostitute she had never received that look from anyone, not ever her brother or his friends.

Once Annette was gone, a feeling of loneliness overtook Bryn once again. Everything was bleak now, not a single speck of light at the end of the tunnel for her. That night just progressed from bad to worse --- and then when all seemed like it could get no worse, it did.

*****

Sobbing. That’s what she was doing as she stumbled away from Milton’s Bar that cold Christmas Eve. Sobbing so much that she didn’t even notice someone had followed her out of the bar until she felt someone grab her roughly by the shoulders and spin her around to face him. A sharp gasp escaped her lips. It was Tino. "Hey there," he snarled, "it’s the little slut."

With an evil grin, he brandished a knife and swiftly cut her arm. She barely flinched. Tolerant of pain was what she was, and this would be no different, she was sure. Her sense were numbed partially because of the alcohol she had consumed and partially because of her emotional state.

Tino only seemed aggravated by her lack of response. If he had been hoping she would scream, or even whimper in pain, he would be most put out. He stabbed her deeply in the shoulder before moving his knife to press against her throat. She drew in a sharp breath, but then just closed her eyes. What was there worth living for anymore? Drago, one of the only people she cared about, had just rejected her. "Go ahead," she said quietly, not opening her eyes. "It doesn’t matter anymore."

Almost as if that killed the spirit of the moment for him, he took the knife away from her throat. Did it take away the fun of it if she would let him kill her? She figured he would jump at the chance to do so, even with her blessing, because he disliked her so much. Apparently it wasn’t challenging enough for him, so he just cut her across the stomach before lumbering back in the direction of the bar.

"Ouch," she whispered, wincing as she pressed her hands to the wound on her stomach, leaning back against the building behind her. He was gone, so now she was able to express her pain. She absolutely refused to do so in his presence. After standing against the building for several minutes, her hands blocking the blood flow from her torso, she started the long trek back to Astoria.

*****

"Are you serious? Now?" she heard Annette exclaim at something Benvolio said. She had just come back from visiting Drago’s house not too long before Benvolio came rushing in to talk to her; and now they were both shooting her nervous looks, as though they didn’t want her to hear anything they said. Whispering was all they did after that exclamation – lots of whispering until Benvolio left and Annette attempted to act nonchalant about the whole ordeal.

They sat by the fire, the two girls, wrapped in blankets to keep out the cold winter air. Annette was constantly shivering, but Bryn barely felt the cold. She barely felt anything, for that matter, and just wished that she would be involved in matters that involved her personal life. "Is it bad?" she asked quietly after a few silent minutes.

"What do you mean?" Annette asked in a faux cheery voice, looking over at her. That was what she couldn’t stand -- that even Annette thought she was stupid enough to buy anything she was going to dish out, and it made her frown.

"You sounded upset at something Benvolio told you."

"Oh, that?" Annette asked, her voice having a nervous edge to it. "That was nothing. He...uh... just had to tell me that...er... was having some problems at the bar." Bryn just frowned more, not believing a word she was saying. "It's not too big a deal...you see he tried to break up a fight and..." she stopped there and looked over at Bryn. "You're not buying this are you?"

"Not at all." She was somewhat annoyed at the fact that Annette even tried lying to her about a subject that was so obvious.

"I didn’t think so," she said with a frown. They avoided talking or looking at each other for a few minutes, Annette looking at a picture hidden in some sheet music and Bryn staring into the ever-changing flames of the fire. When she couldn’t take it any longer, she tore her gaze from the flames and sighed.

"I’m going out for a while."

"You’re not well enough yet," Annette protested with a frown.

"When will I be?" Her frown just kept getting deeper and deeper as she considered the situation.

"I don’t know, but not now."

"Fine," she said, just frowning more.

"Listen, Bryn," Annette said with a sigh. "If I tell you, you have to promise me you'll try not to be upset." There it was, perhaps the truth was coming out.

"I can’t promise anything."

"You just have to try," she said, as if mocking someone at the same time.

"I’ll try," she said, crossing her arms, a frown still ever present on her face. "But I’m not promising anything."

"Okay, we’ll just have to go with that," she said, taking a deep breath. "He took a job."

"He took a job?" Bryn repeated, hoping she had heard it wrong as she looked at Annette with widened eyes. "Where?"

"We don’t know," she said, averting her gaze away from Bryn and back to the fire. Bryn just stood up, still holding the blanket tightly around herself as she stood there. Not get upset? How could she not get upset? Merely two days after a falling out, her boyfriend took up and left to go kill someone! How dare Annette even tell her not to get upset when she knew that such news would cause pain! She practically threw the blanket onto the couch as she made her way to the entryway, grabbing her coat and pulling it on as she stormed out the door.

Find a bar. That’s all her mind was focusing on as she threw open the door and hurried off the porch. She didn’t even realize she practically collided with Miroslav as she walked down the pathway. Alcohol – the one thing in her life guaranteed to make her problems disappear for at least a little while. Her mind was so intent on finding a place to dispose of her worries that she didn’t notice that Annette sent someone to follow her.

Maybe it was all a dream. At least that’s what she hoped, anyway. It would be wonderful if when she woke up with a huge hangover, she realized she had made the entire thing up in her subconscious and none of it had happened. She had to laugh slightly at the thought, a bitter edge to her laughter. Such dreams were nightmares, and her nightmares were real.