A Sample Chapter From Mr 303 Part Two
The following is a sample chapter called Falling Stars, about Sian – a character from Mr 303 Part One and Two. Please note that this has not been edited or finalised. It is simply a rough draft and a teaser for those that have read the book – Mr 303.
Sian was experiencing déjà vu. Hollywood Boulevard was still magical and it still filled her with excitement even with noone around. The familiar stores; some of which had been around back in the days from when she worked those streets at night. She remembered all too well that feeling, when she first started earning the bucks and was finally able to walk into these stores and buy whatever she wanted. She’d bought an ugly, gold necklace because it was expensive and because she could. She’d given that away to a wanna-be aspiring actress once, just so she could get her vote for her role in a movie at the Oscars. Oh what a disaster that had been.
She’d spent weeks dining at every restaurant; for breakfast, lunch and dinner in those early years. She remembered those first days of being recognized on the street, “Oh my God! It’s Sian!” they would scream before rushing to her. That wonderful feeling of importance, having bodyguards suddenly appear and push people away for her. The power she felt when she made a decision to either give them what they wanted, or ignore them. She even spat on a fan once; that had been hilarious. Her PR manager and assistant spent days going into damage control and denying it. She’d laughed when she’d first read the headline, Queen of Pop Chokes and Spits. The proceeding story had spun some bullshit about how she’d cleared her throat after almost choking on a snack and had ‘accidentally’ spat on a fan who’d asked for her autograph. Bullshit, nothing I do is by accident. But she’d learned – the hard way. She soon realized that those things tried to dent her fame and that by treating her fans in that way, she was sure to lose them quickly. So she’d changed tactics and began wooing them. She began telling them how much they meant to her and how much she appreciated their feelings. Stupid assholes, Sian loved their money and not much else, but she learned to play the game. She even wrote that song about it. Disguising her lyrics to mock her fans and their stupidity. They’d bought into it! Her song had shot to the top of the charts and stayed at number 1 for 10 weeks! She’d laughed and suppressed the urge to reveal it to anyone. Not even her collaborators knew what those words meant – so carefully had she written them.
A sound across the street startled her and she whipped around and backed into the store window – suddenly fearful, then relieved to discover some stray dogs looting a bin for scraps.
Scraps. She was hungry too. Time to do some shopping.
She walked into the prestigious and overpriced mini-market on the Boulevard and briefly wondered how long ago the glass door had been shattered, before she walked into the store and looked for something that was ready to eat. The smell of rotting vegetables hit her immediately and she almost gagged. Disgusting, why isn’t someone cleaning this up? She worked her way towards the crackers and biscuits section, then found a brand of biscuits she liked and quickly checked the carbohydrate content. Damn! Even though it was high, she realized it was still one of her better options.
She took the packet towards the back of the store and found a small step that must have been used for stocking items on the harder-to-reach shelves. She sat on it and opened up her packet and began to eat the plain crackers.
“You go grab a trolley…actually, make it two. We might as well take as much as we can now and save ourselves a trip for later,” the man’s voice appeared to her right and she almost dropped the packet. She jumped up and tried to rush back to the safety of the biscuit aisle before being seen.
She did and turned towards him trying not to look disgusted. He was feral; unshaven and grime-filled with a hooked nose and deep-set, intense eyes. His cheap clothes looked as though they’d been overused for several weeks and his unkept and long, black hair, nearly made her vomit. She said nothing but stopped eating her crackers.
“Yeah, you…what are you doing?”
Her impulse was to tell him to fuck off but she bit her lip and said nothing. She stood up and faced him. Scum.
“Listen lady, this is how it works,” he started towards her and she took a step back.
“I said stop! Didn’t you hear me?” she continued to step back even as he advanced towards her – moving faster. He came within meters of her and slowed his pace, though he continued to walk towards her very carefully, as though she were an animal that he might frighten away.
Then she saw the recognition flash across his face and she recoiled; taking two more steps backwards.
“Oh my God! It’s you! You’re Sian!? Hey Rick!” he turned his head to call out to who she guessed must be the other guy. She took the opportunity to take another step back towards the biscuit aisle. One more step and she would be hidden from view. She could run. She was fit; with a regime that included marathon running, Yoga, gym and Pilates. She knew she could outrun him and was about to go for it.
But he was too quick and rushed forward, grabbed her arm and held tight.
“Yes! It is you. Holy cow! This is your fucking lucky day my lady!” he almost broke her arm as he roughly shook her arm and then pushed her back. She hit the wall of biscuits with a thud and felt a flash of pain shoot up her back. She lost her balance and fell to the floor.
“I have a little secret too, Sian. Want to know how many times I’ve wanked over your music videos? Never thought I’d get a chance to show you my fantasies,” he began to unzip his jeans even as he said it. He took another step towards her and was suddenly towering above her.
A small sob escaped her and she hated herself for it. Weak bitch, get out of here! But she couldn’t; she was frozen. Even as he pulled his jeans down and showed her his unwashed and quickly-growing manhood, she didn’t think she had much choice. She put her hands on the ground to try and lift herself to at least a crouch. At least then she might stand a chance. Something cold brushed up against her hand. Sian didn’t dare look down and see what it was but she used her fingers to trace around the object, all the while holding the hideous man’s attention.
It was a pricing gun. Not much of a weapon but the best she could do given the circumstances.
The man suddenly lunged at her and dragged her by her hair to the center of the aisle; making her eyes water, so she grabbed his hands and repulsed at the coarse feel of them. With a strong hand he ripped her designer skirt off. Her first thoughts were about the designer and how upset he would be to learn that his latest gift had been ruined by a fragrant, lowlife. But then she knew he would be dead; like most of the others. She kicked away and slid on her backside away from him. He dropped to his knees and with great strength, he grabbed her ankles and pulled her towards him. She quickly tried to turn but he held on fast. She looked at him, she clung to the pricing gun and calculated that she would have one shot at this. Sian mustered all of her energy and counted on him holding her ankles down so she could propel her upper body off the floor. As he leaned in, she knew she had one shot. With one fast and well-calculated move, she smacked him on the side of the head with the heavy labeler. His hands shot up and that was all she needed.
Suddenly free, she twisted and launched herself upright and shot down the aisles as fast as she could; gaining momentum and readying herself to vault over the checkout on her way out the door. Her heart hammered loudly in her chest and echoed in her ears. The thrumming became her soundtrack.
Just as she reached the end of the aisle, the other man suddenly stepped into view and blocked her path. She skidded – thinking quickly – she decided to launch past him and use his surprise to her advantage. But the man was quick of mind and fleet of foot. He looked past her and saw his friend clutching his head, he shot out and grabbed her arm, then slowly turned his head towards her.
“No!” she screamed while struggling frantically to get away from him. Her voice sounded so thin and desperate – even to her. She glared at him as she struggled to free herself and took him in. The smell coming off of him was nauseating. Slightly longer and lighter-haired than his companion, he might have been good looking once, if it hadn’t been for the grime on his face and the missing teeth amongst yellow-stained ones. His grin was filled with lust, his eyes were hungry. Sian tried again to yank herself free.
It was no use; he was even stronger than the first man and she was no longer holding the pricing gun. She must have dropped it in her panic to get away. Nothing in any of the nearest shelves looked like a suitable, alternate weapon.
It was too late.
The other man had reached them and before she realized what was happening, they dragged her to the ground and finished removing the remainder of her clothes.
“Jesus is that who I think it is?”
“Yeah mate, I’m going first.”
She felt the cold floor of the supermarket against her bare back as they took turns with her. One sat on her face and pushed his knees into her arms to pin them down. Then they would swap. She gave up fighting then. Even as they did things to her, she zoned out and thought back to a time when similar things had happened to her. Her early days of starvation on the streets and the men who’d used her and abused her. Her mind was as numb as her back and her vagina had become.
Sian slowly began to hum a song to herself; it was one of her favorites. She rarely sang it anymore because it meant something to her from her past and reminded her of someone she once loved more than life itself. She hummed louder, then began to sing – even as they commented about her, and did what most men in this new world thought they could take from anyone. In that moment, she understood that the virus had taken more than just their civilization. It had also taken away all the prostitutes; the cheap and easy game and left a lot of horny, desperate survivors. She had become just another victim who would be safe only until someone needed her.
“Man, I thought she’d be looser than this!”
A journalist had once asked her what her favorite song was. She’d purposely taken her time in answering the question because she didn’t want reveal the real answer. She chose another song which she knew that her fans loved. She’d flicked her hair and smiled at the cameras coyly, even as she told them what they wanted to hear.
“Yeah man, fucking old bitch! She’s been fucked a lot but still pretty good. I reckon she’s had one of them operations…you know? The one where they tighten ’em up.”
She wasn’t with them anymore. Sian was gone – she walked from her dressing room towards the stage, pushing the dark curtains to one side as she slowly took her place.
“My turn, I wanna give it to her real hard this time. I think she’s enjoying it.”
Even after the guys left her on the floor and walked away, she continued to sing the song to herself. She was loosely aware of the stickiness between her legs running down to the ground but no longer felt it. She continued to hum her song and for a few more moments, she was back on stage.
The lights in the auditorium were as bright as they always were and had become her sanctuary. The crowd had gone from an excited screaming and cheering to thumping their feet on the ground, to a sudden quiet. She felt their anticipation and she fed on it. Truth be known, those moments were what she’d lived for. She savored that beautiful energy and waited a few more seconds while the band rearranged themselves. Her band – like her audience – were waiting and listened patiently for her to start. The band knew that the moment she uttered those first few words, they would kick in with the familiar riff which would instantly alert the audience to which song she was about to sing.
In the distance, she knew the men were scrambling to take things from shelves and heard the wheeling of their trolleys as they continued with their shopping. But she was on stage and she needed to feel that moment – that split second when the audience heard the first words erupt from her mouth and recognition would silence the anticipation. Then the music would kick in and the crowd would roar. They would scream with joy – clap and cheer and stamp their feet – lounder than thunder – and Sian would dramatically end that first line with a sharp intake of breath. Their adoration and their energy would then wash all over her as they chanted out her name, Sian, Sian, Sian…and she stood there and drank it in.
Every last bit.
**** End of Sample ****
Mr 303 Part Two is coming soon…ish. I’m thinking, by September 2016. Want to be a beta reader? Get in touch.
Thanks to Pixabay for the use of the main image.
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