1.1 The Chronicles of Us - Vice & Virtue

Chapter thirty-two

Where is my bra?

I scan the bedroom in search of the missing item. Ah! There it is. Right where it landed last night. I chuckle and grab it from the desk. A piece of paper whirls to to the floor. I try to snatch it from the air but fail comically. Once I have it taken it from the floor, I take a peek. What's this? An invoice?

Holy guacamole!

This is insane. I figured the renting prices would be through the roof, but one can rent three houses for this amount of money in Faroaks. They'll probably throw in a farm barn as well. Lots of those in Far-away-oaks.

Getting off topic.

How much money does he actually make with the band? I have no idea how that works. Does he receive a monthly pay? Is that enough? We should talk about me chipping in somehow.

Right before I put the bill down, my eyes catch sight of another mind-blowing detail. Who the heck is Anthony Chase? Why is the invoice addressed to him?

Wait.

The bulb in my head finally lights up. It must one those energy saving ones. They take forever to work.

I feel so stupid. Of course, his real name is not Tex. Why didn't he tell me that? Should I be worried?

No, he must have a good reason. I'm sure he'll tell me in time. I can't risk pushing him away with intrusive questions. Besides, I have some much-needed shopping to do. After all, tonight's surprise desires a smashing outfit. Something sexy and racy. Tex likes that.

I gather my things and head toward the MTA. According to Tex, I should end up at a shopping area if I get off at the third stop. I keep my eyes on the electronic sign-board and follow directions.

Is this the right station? It looks a bit grimy and ... well, unclean. It smells, too. I walk up the stairs anyway and smile immediately.

The street is crowded with people from all over the world. A bustling market blocks the middle of the road. Interesting boutiques and department stores, mixed with lunchrooms and food-carts, occupy the sides. The Mexican influences are evident. My Spanish isn't up to par, but I can translate some of the retail signs.

A man with warm brown skin and lively eyes hands me a rose, showing a gold tooth when he smiles. "Para una bella dama."

I take it and inhale the flowery scent. "Gracias."

For a while, I stroll around. Simply observing my new hometown—city. I knew every face in Faroaks and every face knew me. Here, though, I'm a stranger. I like that. I like how we are all just passing through. There's freedom in anonymity. The strain of tying to be perfect has been lifted. No one will bat an eye if make a mistake. No one will know.

I shake my revelations and enter a slightly trashy-looking lingerie shop. Perfect.

The woman behind the counter greets me with a nod before attending to another customer. Automatically, I walk over to a rack with pastel-colored panties. They're cute but predictable. And definitely not how I want to present myself tonight.

Nonetheless, I grab a few to add to my wardrobe and head over to the back. Leather might be too much but chiffon could work. I hold up a bodysuit with a hole instead of a crotch and quickly hang it back. No need to be that forward.

Something between cute undies and porn-wear, then. Although, I think that's what they wear in adult movies. I've never seen them. I circle the store, wondering whether I should suggest watching one those movies with Tex, when a mannequin catches my eye.