The Bagman's Destiny

HENRY AND PHOENIX

Henry appeared to have a routine in his life centred around quitting. He quit school at a young age to paint houses. He quit painting houses to be a rent-boy. He quit being a rent-boy to be a sailor. He quit being a sailor to be a priest. Now he was quitting being a priest to be a Moth. He hated the trend but it was in his bones to quit. He wondered how long it would take before he quit being a Moth.

The thought of quitting came thundering in like a machete thrown at a wooden door after his initiation. He was meant to mingle amongst the other Moths, make some ties so he wasn't completely fucked when it came to working together. If he had just a couple of friends sticking up for him around the base maybe the friendliness would flow through everyone else; at least that's what Atlas kept saying over and over to calm his nerves.

Henry stood in the middle of the rumpus room, his arms crossed so he could pick at the skin flabs on his elbows as he looked around at all the faces. They were quite intimidating now even though they had only been clapping for him minutes before. Nobody wanted his attention now. Their smiles appeared vicious. He went to run to Atlas but he had disappeared. The next safest bet was Liam but he was wound up in a conversation with a man made of the purest ebony.

The priest wasn't one to cry or vomit when things got scary but rather just go numb. So numb he was, standing alone at his own party. That was, until, a girl with ghastly pink hair came stumbling towards him. Refraining from sweating at making eye contact with the over-enthused girl, he decided to examine her before she was close enough to speak. She couldn't dye her hair for shit; the pink was fading and regrowth was sprouting from her scalp for about an inch. It was blotchy and looked rushed like her movements. She had blotchy freckles too, scattered over her chubby white face and thick nose. Though her face was round, her figure was quite slim. Her legs would look skinnier if they weren't coated in fur. It looked like fur rather than leg hair to Henry. Did she know what a razor was?

"Here, have this. Looks like you need it" The girl blabbered, shoving an overflowing glass of champagne in his hand.

It spilt against his formal wear and the bubbles clung to his hand. He wiped it off but his hand was still grossly sticky and it made him uncomfortable. He watched her take a inelegant sip of her own drink and just put his glass down, feeling rather off of it after watching her.

"How was kissing Atlas?" She smiled.

At least her teeth were straight, was all Henry could think.

"Fine" Henry snobbishly grumbled.

"He's a good kisser. I mean, he takes that to full advantage by kissing everyone all the time. I mean, why shouldn't he? If I was a good kisser, I'd kiss people all the time. Girl, boy, both, neither!" She drunkenly chortled, how many glasses had she had?

"So you're not a good kisser?" Henry frowned.

"I don't know. I've never kissed myself, I'd have to get someone to kiss and tell. Wanna find out?"

Henry stared at her as her cheeks glowed and her eyebrows suggestively raised at him. He had never felt more repulsed.

"Another time, maybe"

"I suppose I should tell you my name, first. I'm Henry"

"No... I'm Henry?"

"I was just seeing if you were really listening to me, so I'm keeping that 'maybe' you have me against you" She smirked, "My name is really Phoenix"

He had to escape.

•••

When Henry discovered Phoenix would be one of the three to fuck off to Italy, he had never felt more relieved. He had made friends with a couple of Moths like Fetch and Niall but whenever he was with them Phoenix would be there. She would join in the conversation or watch him from another conversation with other people. He always found her eyes when he looked up. It was irritating and her smirks didn't help.