Bound.

Bright coloured lights spilled from the dusty windows of the warehouse, staining the night sky blue, red, green. I smirked as a loped closer to the rusty door, the aching beat of the music trembling comfortingly under the soles of my feet. This was my domain, filled with sweaty bodies, blaring bass that shook the speakers and, most importantly, drugs.

The rush of illegal chemicals is what we deeties thrived on. It was our oxygen, our food. Passed around freely, we shoveled as many of those powdery white pills down our throats as we could. Our bodies shivered and shuddered under the wealth of good feeling the tablets provided, but it was never enough. Handful after handful they went into our gaping, hungry mouths. Until, one by one, we passed out.

Some of us never woke up.

Most of us never cared if we did.

But if the drugs were our sustenance, the strobing lights that blinded us were our sun; the bone-rattling, numbingly loud songs that quivered in the air were our sweetest lullabies. Because, truly, us deeties were completely and utterly fucked up.

It was that thought that pulled the corners of my mouth into a sneer. I began walking again -- having stopped for some stupid-ass reason -- and thrusting my thumbs through my belt loops, allowing a breath of fresh air to brush down through the bright yellow pants that clung almost desperately to my hips, so tight they were like another layer of skin.

But it was also that thought that filled me with despair. Us idiotic Detached who were cursed to live a half-life because, for some retarded reason, we couldn't be Bonded. My hand scuttled down my leg, searching for the fix that I so suddenly, so desperately needed.

It was then when they found me, standing in front of the blood-red door, my tongue stuck through the gap between my teeth in concentration as I tried to pry the packet of pills from an unbelievably tiny pocket lodged on the inside of my thigh. Naturally, it just looked like I was touching myself -- my grunts of frustration weren't exactly helping that fact.

"You know, it's easier if you take your pants off," came a voice from right behind me, literally dripping with malicious amusement. I jumped, actually surprised for once.

But I couldn't let anyone know that. Oh no, no, no. I wouldn't dare dream showing any true emotion.

So I didn't. I turned to the mystery speaker smoothly, my sharp features arranged in a slight glare, my eyes giving off a "why-don't-you-go-fuck-yourself?" kind of vibe. Very cool, very unfazed.

They would never even think of the blush that I was struggling to hold back.

And she didn't -- for the stranger definitely was female. I could see the immediate change in her when she saw my face; the interest that sparked in her unnaturally blue eyes, the way she immediately stood up straighter and thrust out her, well, large chest.

I could feel a twitch in my pants as my eyes trailed down the thin straps that were perched precariously on her shoulders, only to dive into a horrifyingly plunging neckline that just brushed her belly-button. Another twitch.

"Ahem."

My eyes snapped up from they were previously ogling at -- her boobs, obviously -- to meet the girl's gaze. She was smiling stupidly, her eyebrows cocked in a fashion that she probably thought was sultry and mysterious. But really, she looked higher than the moon. Oh, and constipated.

She definitely looked constipated.

A smirk ghosted across my lips at the thought. Mentally, I snorted. What a dit-

"Ahem!"

I started slightly, realizing that the voice was, in fact, not coming from the grinning figure in front of me. I gazed around wildly, squinting slightly through the darkness that surrounded us -- after all, it was nighttime. Two feather-plumed boys escaping around the side of the warehouse, hand in hand; a couple leaning against a tree doing someth- oh fuck. I twitched again, my pants growing tighter as I fought to tear my eyes from the sight.

"Oh, gosh! Would you please just pay attention for one second?" And with that, a pudgy hand grabbed my chin, turning my head sharply to meet a pair of beady little eyes. It turned out, the mysterious speaker was, in fact, right in front of me. Granted, she was about a foot and a half shorter than me, and lacked the, erm, appeal that her ditzy companion held. So, really, it was no wonder that I didn't see her.

While the first girl was stick thin -- not including her, uh, chest area -- the second was definitely not. The tits-chick was tall and willowy, looking very much like a dark bird with her black leather and raven hair. The fat one? She looked like a slug, being very wide and short, barely grazing five foot, with a body that was covered in a sheen of sticky, slimy sweat.

Actually, she looked like more of an over-stuffed sausage, having remarkably squeezed her lumpy frame into a tube top and what looked like shorts -- I really couldn't tell, there was just so much flab hanging over them -- that probably would have been tight on tits-face. I snickered.

Sausage-gal gave me a watered-down glare and I just shook my head in amusement. What a stupid, ridiculous girl. I wasn't necessarily laughing at her because of her appearance -- though there wasn't anything not funny about it -- but rather because she was so obviously a Bonded. I could just tell from the way she shifted uncomfortably under my stare, from the way she held herself, and, most importantly, the fact that she was fat.

Deeties were never obese or chubby. Actually, most of them were basically skin and bones, much like tits-face. It was because of the drugs we took -- they deteriorated our bodies, took whatever good stuff was in us and used it all up. Just another wonderful highlight in the life of a Detached.

Speaking of drugs, I really needed some at the moment.

"Look," I said, a slight tremor of desire roiling under the tone of my voice, "I don't know what you want Sweet-cakes, but unless you've got some pills or sommat, you're not worth my time."

And with that I turned on my heel and walked away, into the mesh of closely-packed bodies that lay behind the rust-red door. Fuck, I needed to forget all of this.