The Real World: Revived

"If you need a friend, you can call me anytime. I don't care at all to take you there or visit if you need someone to talk to. We may have just met, but sometimes a stranger helps better than family."
Felicity pulled out a piece of paper and wrote down her cell phone number, than handed it to Linas.
"Just remember, I'm here if you need me."

Lina's thanked her yet again. He was kept in the hospital for a couple days to make sure his body is detoxed for all the drugs. The day he was discharged he immediately found the closest rehab facility and checked himself in.

Felicity woke up early, her mind was still wandering to the night she helped Linas. She had hoped he went for help. If he did he'd be the first she helped to actually do what they said. Maybe if she took her own advice, she wouldn't be a stripper and going to college like she had always dreamed of doing.

Linas was sitting in his room in the rehab facility. "This is actually nice" he said to himself. He's been living off the streets for quite sometime now so it's nice to actually have a bed to call his own and a regular schedule for meals. He couldn't help but to think of Fecility. She has helped him more than she knows. He found the number she wrote down and gave her a call on his cell phone that the rehab facility issued him.

Felicity rolled over towards her ringing phone. She checked the caller ID and didn't recognize the number.
Probably a telemarketer...
She sighed and answered the phone.
"Hello?"

The phone rang a couple times before he heard her voice. "Hey Fecility, it's Linas. The rehab facility issued me a phone so I can contact people every know and then. How are you?"

"As good as I can get I guess. Hows life in the rehab clinic? Do you feel like you can do it this time?"

"The clinic is awesome! I feel like I've started a new chapter in my life honestly. But there's a reason why I'm calling. When I get out, I don't really have a place to stay. They say I need a stable place to live until I finish the program. This clinic does follow up visits. Is there anyway I could crash at your place for a couple of week until I get myself back up on my feet?"

Felicity was walking into her kitchen when Linas asked to stay. She looked around. She had one bed room, a bathroom and kitchen/living room. She frowned slightly. It wasn't much of a place. She'd have to get a futon if he was going to stay here. All she had was her bed, tv, and cruddy dining room table in her living room.
"Yeah, sure. When exactly is it you get out so I can have my place ready?"

"I'm currently in Phase 2 of my treatment. There's 4 phases and it takes a couple of weeks to move up each phase. Phase 4 is when you're released but they still check up on your every few days. It'll be 3 or 4 weeks before I make it there so I some time. I just wanted to make sure so I'm not crunched for time you know."

"Yeah I understand. Well I'm glad you checked into rehab. I'll have a spot for you to sleep when you get out. Just focus on getting better."

"Thanks so much Felicity. I have some great ideas once I get out of what in want to do. I'll keep in touch"

"Alright Linas, take care."
Felicity hung up her phone and flung herself back onto her bed.
Great, now I have a roommate to look forward to.

Rowan stood on a street corner, a cigarette dangling between her lips as she adjusted her skirt to show a little more of her hips, and her tube top to hide her emaciated looking rib cage. Clothing adjustments could make a world of difference in this business, and rent was due in a week. She needed the cash, and there wasn't a strip club in town that would hire a hooker. So standing there in a leather miniskirt, tube top, thigh high leather boots, and a fur coat from a thrift shop at roughly 11pm was really the only option she had.

Inhale, exhale.

The smoke that followed could have been her own breath in the cold, or her cigarette, most likely a combination of the two, but it was a cathartic release. Her breath, visible as smoke in the crisp night air, was another piece of her soul sliding out through her lips. If she was lucky, the next puff would bring her down; a final piece of her soul escaping into the ether.

Inhale, exhale.

Another puff of smoke, and she was still standing.

"Fucking hell..."

Felicity walked down the sidewalk to her job. Job, that's a funny word. A business set up to make men pay to see women in hard times strip down to the body nature gave them, then have these same men stuff dollar bills into their ass cracks.
Felicity sighed, only she could make what pays her bills sound so glamorous. Sarcasm was her only friend now.
Felicity pulled out another Camel, lighting it slowly to savor the flavor. As she walked, she noticed the local hookers had set up camp at the end of the club's block, something they did only when the owner was out of town.
I have to hand it to these women, they know business better than I would ever thought. We'll get those guys nice and hot for them, then they can cash in on the boners they leave with.

Rowan looked up to one of the passing workers. There was a sadness in her hollow, sunken eyes, the marks along her arms from heroin, the raw edges of her nose from coke, the slight yellow tint to her teeth and nails from the cigarettes. The things she would do to keep taking off her clothes the end of her job for the night.

But, that was only a distant dream, much like the dreams of her past that had since all been forgotten in the haze of her mind, not all there, and not all gone.

She flicked her ashes against the pavement, a bittersweet menthol and salty taste in her mouth as she raised the butt to her lips and inhaled once more, letting the smoke roll down her lips and across her nearly-bare chest.

Felicity could feel the eyes on her, each one of the hookers always did this. Stare at the strippers, most of them did it to psych her out. Scare her a little, maybe ruin her routine for the night. She was used to this though. She wasn't any better than them. Sure, she didn't go through what they did, but she still used sex appeal to make money. It was all a sex game.

Rowan kicked her cigarette butt on the ground and waited around till patrons started leaving the club. Again, she adjusted her clothes, as a few straggling drunks came over to ask them about pricing.

A man with broad shoulders and blondish-gray hair approached Rowan, a coy smirk on his lips, "Hey babe, you girls doing okay tonight."

She flashed him her best fake smile, looking up at him through her lashes, "Doing much better now that you're here."

Felicity turned her head away from the hookers. Her mind now was getting inside and dealing with the men left inside.
I hope the same for these women tonight as I do myself, we all make it through. Unscathed and unharmed. Let's have a good night ladies. She silently prayed.

"You give discounts to nice, handsome men?" he chuckled.

Rowan gave a false laugh, "Unfortunately I can't much afford to. Standard rate, $50 an hour."

He ran a hand along her jawline, "Not even a little bit?"

Again, she shook her head. It was just them on the street now, which was what worried her.

Ten more minutes, then I can go back to hell.
Felicity lit another cigarette. The street was almost empty. The club was bumping with outdated music, a few cars sped by, and one woman remained. Felicity watched the prostitute and her potential customer make their exchange. She didn't want to go in just yet. Something felt off. She took a draw off her smoke, her mind focused on pair out front.

He grabbed a hold of her throat, his large back and shoulders blocking off the view as she tried in vain to pry his hands off of her neck, "If I'm gonna be fucking nice to you, you goddamned better believe I get something out of it, you hear?" he asked, a rough whisper that spat with each syllable in her face.

She tried to pull a knife from the back of her skirt out on him, but he brushed it out of her hand as it hit the pavement with a clink. He forced his lips to hers, pressing her back in the alleyway roughly, hand still on her throat, keeping her silent.

Felicity's cigarette dropped from her mouth.
Oh shit.
She fumbled in her purse, finding what she wanted. She pulled out her small hand gun. She dropped her purse, held it up with a shaky hand and pulled back the hammer. The whole alley was filled with the sound of a loud click from the gun.

The man was too drunk and too absorbed in his power to notice, biting hard into Rowan's lip, drawing blood as he forced his hand into her skirt, pulling at her thong and letting it slide to her bony knees. She squeezed her eyes shut.

Just let it be over quick...

Oh fuck fuck fuck! God, forgive me.
Felicity aimed her gun, hoping she could just hit something that wasn't the girl. She shot, she skimmed his leg. She shot again. She hit ankle. Felicity was gripping her gun tight.
What the fuck do I do now?!