Kit Marquez represents one side of the coin. Heads. She's a heart attack with poisonous smiles and eyes like melted chocolate, captivating and deadly. She's also angry. Angry at the world, angry at the people in her life, angry with everyone except...
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IT'S NOT UNTILTHEO'S feet hit the ground of the dingy back alley that she lets loose a breath of air she'd been holding in for what felt to her as a full week. She tucks her hands into the pockets of her bomber jacket and slants a brief look of guilt up to her bedroom window, which sits open in the darkness.
She shakes the feeling off and quickly strides off to the main street. She's greeted instantly with the life of New York: that individual smell of cool night air that causes her breath to solidify in front of her, the distant sound of car horns and the zoom of vehicles racing past, the hollers and shouts from drunken citizens, the cheers from inside pubs and bars as some football player scores a goal a thousand miles away.
She can't deny the slight skip in her step as her eyes dart around, trying to take in everything about the city around her. She doesn't need her phone or a map to find Elysium, since it's a local club and she'd walked these streets enough times to know where everything was. She follows the map written in her thoughts past the cosy Italian café that made the best milkshakes on the block, a sweet shop smaller than a broom shed run by two sweet old ladies who always seemed to be watching Buffy The Vampire Slayer, a couple of apartment buildings. She turns a corner. A charity shop, a bank, another couple of bars. She crosses the street. A Hot Topic, more apartment blocks . . .
She passes friendly-looking faces, drunk adults, giggling teenagers enjoying the beginning of their summer. Women in suits, men in suits, people walking their dogs, people going to and from their jobs. Theo is in love with the hustle and bustle of the city. She crosses the street as the traffic light glows red, turns another corner, and—
"Theo? Is that you?"
She whirls around. Her heart stops and she chokes on the bile that rises up her throat whilst simultaneously yelping, "Aidan!"
He smiles at her brightly. He's clothed in full black with the intricate blue E of the club's logo imprinted on his right shoulder. He's of average height, but what he lacks in that area he makes up for with strong arms corded with muscle. Despite this, the constant grin on his face he fights to keep up sort of contradicts any intimidation he might give off. Still, he's serious when needed be, and that landed him with the job of a bouncer.
