Bitch

Chantelle was woken up to a shuddering feeling as someone started shaking her shoulder. Chantelle's blue eyes snapped open and she glared up at Malcom as he stared down at her.
"Gotta go," he told her. "Time to start a days work".
Chantelle groaned, rubbing the back of her neck painfully as it felt stiff and was throbbing with a dull ache. Her eyes were still bleary and her muscles felt sore from sleeping on the ground.
"Don't worry, you'll get used to that," Malcom assured with a smirk.
Chantelle moaned, closing her eyes and trying to drag her abscessed legs from the clinging old sleeping bag. She rubbed her aching eyes as they adjusted to the dim lighting of the underpass, her arms prickling with goosebumps against the brisk biting cold and her empty stomach rumbling. She ran a hand through her blonde tangled hair, her fingers stopping at a huge frizzed up knot and trying helplessly to untangle the tethered monstrosity.

She wanted to cry out in frustration. She was cold, she was hungry and she was filthy. Her nails were more chipped than a slab of wood just gone through a paper shredder and her dress was still ripped and torn. She needed new clothes, she needed food but more importantly she needed to get home. But how? With no mobile and no way of knowing her way around these parts of New York, she was completely lost. And after her little stunt the day before, she doubted these people were going to let her anywhere out of their sight.

But for once Chantelle didn't say anything. She didn't whine, she didn't moan and she defiantly didn't throw a hissy tantrum. She just screamed silently in her head while climbing out of the sleeping bag and rolling it up messily for Malcom to place it back in his rucksack. She also went to remove the fleece but he shook his head at that.
"No, keep it until you buy yourself one," he simply said and Chantelle nodded, not wanting to complain and then have him snatch it off her.
She stood up and actually tried pulling down her dress further to try and insulate herself from the brumal cold instead of doing her usual routine of pulling the dress up to expose her long gorgeous tanned thighs. Chantelle shivered, hugging her wast with her skinny arms, the fleece hanging of her small curvy frame like a sack. It was several sizes too big for her and was speckled with dirt. She looked a state. Malcom finished packing his possessions back into his large bag and slung it over his shoulder, smiling weakly at Chantelle.
"Come on," he muttered. "Lets go get some money."
Chantelle nodded, following him out of the freezing cold underpass and out onto the busy street.

"Kris explained to you how begging works didn't he?" Malcom asked, "before he handed you over to Scarlet?"
Chantelle thought for a minute, trying to brood over who Kris was.
"Brown hair and friends with Alexus?" Malcom reminded Chantelle and she frowned.
"Alexus has friends?" She almost spat and Malcom nodded slowly.
It puzzled Chantelle how someone so cold and unfriendly could possibly be able to make friends with anyone.
"Well, they're more like brother and sister to be honest, Kris has known Alexus a very long time," Malcom explained and Chantelle just nodded, walking beside him uncomfortably in her alluring heels. "Why?" Malcom asked, obviously not getting the idea.
Chantelle shrugged. "She just doesn't seem like a companionable person," she muttered.
Malcom nodded, agreeing with her. "She can be like that, but once you get to know her she's...agreeable" Malcom slowly responded, carefully treading on his words.
"Why? I don't understand why she's so cold. The moment she laid eyes on me, she hated me."
Malcom shook his head. "It's nothing," he replied quickly. "She's been through a lot, that's all. Just don't ask her too many questions about it."
Chantelle shrugged, falling silent although itching to ask so many more questions.

"Tell me more about the others," she finally said. "Tell me more about this Isaac guy."
Malcom sighed. "Look, there's someone over there we could try begging off," he pointed out, trying to change the subject.
Chantelle's eyes followed where Malcom was pointing and she saw an old woman hobbling on a crooked walking stick as she shakily crossed the street. Chantelle stared blankly at Malcom, blinking once before speaking.
"Her?" Chantelle whispered and Malcom nodded.
"But she's so old and innocent looking!" Chantelle complained and Malcom rolled his eyes.
"We're asking for change, not stealing her handbag," he reminded her.
"But..." Chantelle trailed off.
Malcom sighed. "Fine," he said. "We'll go for her instead," he pointed over to a woman who seemed to be in a hurry, each arm carrying a heavy load of shopping bags as her heels clacked on the pavement.
Chantelle nodded, following Malcom as they approached the woman, standing in front of her to prevent the woman from going any further.
"Hello miss," Malcom greeted politely. "Could we maybe ask you for some spare change so we can afford something to eat?" He asked, his British accent heavy.

Chantelle wondered how Malcom had actually ended up in America. He was clearly from Britain and guessing by his accent, he'd spent some time there and had only just recently started living in America.
The woman sighed, obviously wanting to hastily get home and to get rid of Chantelle and Malcom as quickly as possible. She dropped some of her bags, digging around in one and stuffing some change into Malcom's grubby out stretched hand before grabbing her bags again.
"Learn to get a job," she hissed before shoving past them both.
Malcom beamed down at the money, handing half of it to Chantelle before slipping his own into the side pocket of his rucksack. Chantelle secured her own change in the pocket of the fleece she wore, having nowhere else to put it since her small summer dress had no pockets. She now had enough money to buy a coffee. Nothing that could help her hunger or protect her from the raw cold but at least it might wake her up since it was still early in the morning.
"Right," Malcom began, giving Chantelle a grin. "Lets see if we can at least get breakfast."

Chantelle was very proud of herself. After collecting change, her and Malcom finally decided that they'd defiantly raised enough to buy a meal. But before they did that, Malcom offered to put in some money for Chantelle to at least buy herself some cheap trainers and pants so she can stay warm and calm her aching blistered feet. After a quick trip to one of the stalls set up in the poorer parts of the shopping street, she'd managed to buy a cheap pair of trainers and some jeans. The jeans were too big for her and no doubt the trainers would be wrecked in less than a week but it was a good start and Chantelle was already feeling better now her long legs were covered up from the benumbing cold.

And so Malcom and Chantelle found themselves in a kebab shop, tucking into some deliciously filling deli kebabs. It was mid afternoon and Chantelle's stomach had been completely empty by the time they reached the shop. She'd felt like her muscles were about to snap from all the walking and the inside of her stomach was going to start building up cobwebs from being neglected for so long.

She was enjoying herself, tucking into the salad of her kebab while Malcom droned on about begging skills and how he'd managed to survive the street life. She was surprised with herself really. All them diets and all them food restrictions she'd had to follow in order to keep the stunning figure she held right now. But here she was any way, tucking into this greasy monstrosity. At least it filled her up though. And at least she wouldn't starve to death.

Suddenly Malcom look up as the door of the shop opened. Chantelle twisted her head round and groaned when she saw Alexus and Kris walk in, shortly followed by Scarlet and some boy with closely cropped brown hair and tanned skin. He was wearing a ratty old jumper and baggy jeans, he would have looked handsome if it wasn't for the tired look in his eyes and the exhaustion washed over his face. Alexus looked over at Malcom and Chantelle and frowned, obviously annoyed with meeting up with them both like this. Kris on the other hand seemed slightly please, waving at Malcom before they walked up to the counter to order their meal. Chantelle looked at Malcom who just smiled at her apologetically.

A few minutes alter the group came to their table, Chantelle was squashed right up against the window in order for the boy and Alexus to be able to sit on the bench with her. She gazed out the window miserably as they ate and chatted amongst themselves, occasionally glancing at Chantelle but trying to pay her as little attention as possible. She felt like she was intruding something and wasn't wanted. Which wasn't what Chantelle was used to because usually people would love to invite her into their group and usually Chantelle was the main centre of attention. But not now. Now she was obviously the extra wheel.

"Hi, I'm Edwin," the boy with the brown hair suddenly greeted and Chantelle just gave him a polite smile, not wanting to start small talk with this boy.
He obviously got the message, looking away awkwardly before grabbing the remains of his kebab.
"I'm gonna hit the road," he told the rest of the group. "I hardly got any sleep last night so I'm gonna try and get some rest," he explained.
Everyone nodded, giving a few mumbles of goodbyes before Edwin climbed out of the table and left the shop. Leaving Chantelle sitting regrettably next to Alexus. Oh just great, Chantelle thought bitterly to herself, glancing over at Alexus who gave Chantelle a bitter death glare.