blackOUT. | 18+

3. | TRUE colors shine through.

"You asked him what?" Nikita stared at me in disbelief, holding a knife dripping with tomato juice in mid-air.

I sat across from her and Luna as they prepared food for Luna's showcase tonight. She was a photographer and tonight was the first time she was putting her work on display. Instead of hiring a caterer, we decided to prepare the food ourself which ended up taking most of the day. There was no time to spare when Romero dropped me off this morning.

"And I thought I was fucked up last night," she said with a raise of her freshly threaded brows.

"You asked for the details," I said with a shrug, stirring a bowl of cupcake batter.

"Yeah, about his 'pink' dick, not you living out your supernatural books and not even getting the vitamin you clearly needed," she retorted.

Nikita snickered, waving her knife hand around to dismiss Luna's comment and proceed with my story. "Okay, and? What did he say?"

"Obviously, he denied it," I answered with a dramatic sigh, recalling Romero's laughter.

"That man sucked your soul from your pussy, left you dick deficient and had you talking crazy. Does he have any brothers? I'm asking for a friend," Luna said.

"Bitch, you're a vi—."

"I KNOW QUALITY WHEN I SEE IT, RAVEN," she interrupted me waving her hand in a 'shut up' motion.

"Yeah," Nikita snorted as she resumed her tomato chopping. "We definitely need to take those erotica books away from you. The most experienced virgin for sure. I'm sure that's a sin."

"Whatever, Nikki. A gal must always be prepared," she said with a curtesy.

I shook my head with a snicker.

"You're coming tonight, right?" Luna asked with narrowed, damn near accusatory eyes.

I nodded, averting her gaze. "No worries."

She stared at me as she moved around the kitchen, probably contemplating on whether or not she believed me.

I met her eyes with a big smile, before returning my attention to the cupcake batter.

We've all been living together for about several months now, and everyday I was thankful for them. I met Nikita when I was 19 in Uni, during a morning lecture. I moved in with her a year later and a year after that, Luna took up the last room in the house. When I decided to drop out of Uni, I stayed to keep the cost of living down—not that those two had any money problems. Nikita was a personal trainer with a degree in Exercise Science while Luna was a photography major.

I, on the other hand spent the better half of my teenage years just trying to get to the next day, so much that it left no time for me to figure out what exactly I wanted to do in life. Academic wise, school was never a problem—my good grades landed me scholarships to university but there was always a disconnect for me.

The girls believed I had a job, and in a sense I did. It just wasn't exactly legal. The couple of years I spent out on the streets after aging out of the system taught me a few things: Life wasn't going to hand me anything—I had to take it, and that's what I did.

Being out on the street surrounded by gangs, thieves and con artists was all about survival of the fittest. I frequented the popular hangouts and networked with who I needed to for safety. Before my parents died, my father, a mechanic, was a motorcycle lover. He spent as much time as he could teaching me about the bikes, from different brands to the mechanical side of things. This knowledge came of use when I sweet-talked my way into the arms of a local biker, who taught me how to ride a bike and bought me my first set of wheels. For a while I did a bit of illegal street racing. At night, Miami streets were good for that and I was good, so the money came flowing in, but after some time I realized that it wasn't enough.