After being cheated on by her fiancé, the last thing Lydia wants to do is room with her brother and his 2 roommates, but what happens when she has no where else to go?
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Devastated by a betrayal...
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*Three Months Ago*
It was a foggy October night filled with laughter as little children walked the neighborhoods with their parents, buckets half filled with candy in tow and I was dressed in my costume- a black eye mask and blonde wig not dissimilar to the one worn on those television shows with vigilantes portrayed as heroes.
I held out my police issue baton in public, glad that Amazon really did have everything. Granted it wouldn't do well in a gun fight, but it was my first night attempting to do something even remotely dangerous so I figured I'd taken things slow on my first time out.
The bars were crawling with girls dressed to the nines in costumes that left hardly anything to the imagination, so I was glad that my black liquid leggings were practically molded to my skin and my top was skin tight, so I wasn't going to stick out much.
I counted my steps as the spikes of my stilettos created an echo off of the taller buildings around me and took a few steadying breaths to reel in my nerves that seemed like they had a mind of their own.
Once seated in the bar that I'd only frequented a few times since I'd been in Boston, I glanced around at the partying college students and zeroed in on a few questionable looking guys eyeing the scantily clad women around them and tried to flush out my target's target.
It wasn't hard to find the group of three guys who were watching the women before them like they were their prey out in the wild and they were the lions, the predators. I kept tabs on them all night while I drank my glass of wine, nursing it slowly so I didn't give myself an accidental buzz, although that might've helped with the nerves.
The first one made their move. The girl rebuffed his advances and he retreated back to his table sullenly, conversing with his friends and I could just make out the words, "bitch," and "slut."
It was ironic how they assumed that a girl not wanting to go with them upon first meeting was a 'slut' just because of her rejection of them. I rolled my eyes at their idiocy and focused in on a man sitting by himself observing the room.
A scar trailed down the left side of his light brown skin and his dark hair was a shaggy unkempt mop on the top of his head. His gaze was piercing and unwavering and for a moment we locked eyes but I quickly tore mine away, terrified that he would be able to discern my identity underneath my mask and come looking for me in a dark alleyway somewhere. He screamed danger and disgust and he was my new target.
I meandered in the bar long after the college kids zipped out, eager to get to the frat parties that I was still too terrified to even gaze upon from the outside looking in.
When it seemed like I was about to be the last girl in the bar, the scar faced man (no relation to the movie) stood and wrapped his arm around a waiting girl at the bar not three stools down from me. I gripped onto the slimy and sticky bar top, awaiting the surge of rage to come out of the girl as he was outwardly groping her chest in public with seemingly having just met her, but she was swaying on her seat, clearly out of her wits.
