Landfill

I couldn't stay in the room any longer. The room made me itch, the thought of claustrophobia crossed my mind. I left the room after putting on my shoes and grabbing my coat.

I went down to the lobby, smelling pastries and hot coffee. I wanted coffee and cigarettes immediately. I went up to the front desk; the hostess smiled at me, "Hello, how can I help you?"

"Where's the closest liquor store? I'm not familiar with this town."

The hostess grabbed a map, and began to write; "Just down the street, on K. Make a left and there's a block of a few stores." She slid the map to me.

"Thank you." I told her.

"You're welcome."

I left the hotel; seeing how warm it was outside. I wasn't expecting it, but at the same time, there's a reason why everyone likes Los Angeles. It rarely ever rains and the sun is always shining.

Still, there was a chill in the air.

I walked down the block, going the way the woman had told me to. There were so many people, all on phones and under dressed; pretty, talk women with large bags. Cell phones attached to ears, it looked as if they were on one joint phone call together.

I managed to get down the street and to a liquor store. I gave coins to the homeless man out front and went in. I went towards the drinks, grabbing a chocolate milk before going to the register; "A pack of Marlboro reds."

The cashier; a male a few years older than me, grinned, "I.D. please?"

I looked at him incredulously, "You're joking, right?"

He shook his head, grin slipping into a smirk, "Nope."

I grabbed my wallet and pulled out my ID, and cash, "I'm 24, dude." I handed it to him.

He laughed, a soft one, "Alright, alright." He handed me a pack and rang me up. I handed him a twenty and ripped open the pack. "Have a nice day." He waved.

I grabbed my drink, "Thanks."

I pushed a cigarette between my lips and lit it with Ryan's lighter. I looked around at the space, at the android like people mulling around. I didn't know where to go or what to do with myself.

I opened my carton of milk and started to walk. I didn't know where I was going, I just walked. I walked and walked and walked until my legs ached. I stopped at what looked like a bar.

I tossed my empty carton and went inside. Inside, it was dark and some music played. There weren't that many people inside, but I did freeze when I saw Ryan.

He was with a man; the two at a booth in the far corner. Ryan was facing me; I couldn't move, not until he saw me. But, the only move I did was rush over to the bar and sit.

The bartender came over to me, "What can I get you?"

"Uh... I don't know. What do you recommend?"

The bartender went to open his mouth, but he stopped. I felt a hand on my shoulder, the bartender smiled, "Hey, Ryan."

I filled with dread, his palm squeezing my shoulder, "Hey, excuse us, Gary."

The bartender -Gary- gave a nod and stepped away. I sighed and looked up at Ryan; the smile he had was gone. "Nikki, what're you doing here?" He asked curiously.

"I don't know. I needed something to do. I couldn't stay in that room." The way I spoke, I sounded like I hadn't been upset at all that day.

"You still mad?" He asked cautiously.

I shrugged. I didn't know if I really was. I was tired; I suddenly felt it in my bones.

"You don't want a drink," he said, taking my arm, "It's only 1."

"So?"

He tugged my arm, "C'mon."

"Where're you taking me?" I questioned as I climbed off the stool.

"To eat." He said simply.

"No, I don't want to go anywhere with you."

He sighed, "Nick, c'mon. Please?"

"Who were you talking to?" I asked instead.

"I'll tell you when we're somewhere else."

I pulled my arm away from his grasp, "No. Last time you did that, I wanted to kill you."

Ryan grabbed my arm and pulled me against his body. Without warning, his crushed his lips against mine. I was dumbfounded for a moment, and then pulled back. I hated how much my body yearned to hug him. I hated how badly I felt for him.

"I hate you." I muttered, moving around him and out the bar.

Ryan followed behind me, grabbing my elbow, "Follow me."

I didn't disobey, I followed his lead, out to a large parking lot behind the bar. He opened the passenger side door to the car and I climbed in. He got in the driver side and immediately took off without any other word.

The drive was short, and near the hotel. It was quiet between us; I half expected him to try and salvage his actions. He parked in a parking lot of a posh restaurant with some fancy French name. I tried to read it, but failed miserably. I looked down, at my lap, at my jeans, seeing a tiny frayed hole on the thigh; I picked at it as we sat in silence.

"That guy is one of Shane's manufacturers." Ryan finally said.

"Great." I muttered, my jagged unpolished fingernail picked at the frayed hole with annoyance.

"I know you don't want to hear it, but--"

"Don't even say anything," I told him, my eyes shot at him, "Don't tell me why you were meeting that man. I don't care."

Ryan dropped his hands into his lap, "You should know--"

"Well, I don't!" I exclaimed, "I don't want to." I felt my emotions coming over me, "Do you know what you've done? I don't even want to return to my apartment, I don't want to go back into my home because of you."

"Why?" His brow furrowed.

"Because! Those men found out where we live, and who the hell knows who else knows! I have to move," tears spurt, I hated myself for it, "I can't live there. And, I can't be with you anymore."

Ryan's face smoothed over, he looked shocked. Awe, disbelief. "You can't mean that."

"I mean it," I wiped my eyes, my cheeks, "I don't want to be with you. I love you, but that's all I can handle. I won't--"

"Nikki, you can't just--"

"Yes I can!" I snapped, "I'm not carefree and happy to live on the dangerous side, Ryan. I barely let you in, and look what you've done!"

"I'm only doing what I think is best. What's the easiest at a time like this."

I rubbed my eyes, and then clasped my hands together. I sat back, "You have all that money..."

"And more." He added.

"Quit." I said simply. "You can quit, you have money. You can quit... For me."

"I can't." He said shortly. "Shane won't like it if I just quit. I still have to work for him and ease my way out," he sighed, "That's why I was meeting with his manufacturer. I'm gonna meet with the a supplier."

"For what?" I felt anger course through me, "So you can do it on your own? Be a fucking drug king pin?"

Ryan bit at his lip. And then, he ran a hand through his hair, "You don't know what it's like, Nick." He spoke softly, repeated said words from the night before. "To... To not worry about things that you used to worry about. It's a good feeling."

"So you get high off of getting paid?" I asked sarcastically.

The look he gave, made me regret what I had said. He looked so damn sad and pathetic. I felt terrible, and I wish I hadn't, but I did.

"I guess I do." He said softly. "I'm doing this for my future --Our future, Nick. I want to marry you in a big wedding, and buy a big house, and if we ever have kids, they'll be taken care of."

I exhaled, "Ryan, I don't need a big wedding or a big house. I like things small, I don't like extravagant things. Living like that seems inconceivable... Erratical ways of life."

"I still want it that way." He murmured. "And, I'll get out of it someday."

"Get out now." I cried, "Just fuck it all, please! I'm begging you--"

"Nicole, just give me some time." He looked straight ahead. "I promise, I won't be who you think I am much longer."

"Then, I can't be with you." I told him.

Ryan didn't say anything, he just sat there. He got out the car and leaned against it, his back against the window, his leather jacket darkening it. I sat back and grabbed my cigarettes, even though I didn't feel like smoking at all. I lit it out of habit.