Slaves to substance (open)

[Josie Raines]

Some time later Josie stumbled out of the entrance of the club, unwilling to ignore the growing craving for nicotine any longer. Parking herself on a stretch of brick wall between gaggles of like minded partiers, she fished a half-empty pack and plastic lighter out of the pocket of her shorts and lit up.

As blue smoke streamed from her lips, Josie wondered idly how long she'd been here. The night had flown by at first, but then the rude fucker had shown up. After she'd bailed on him, the night began to drag on and on, never going long without a glance over her shoulder. At least the guy was tall as hell, that made him easier to spot and easier to avoid. Josie didn't like having to scope out the bar every time she wanted another drink, though. Maybe it was time to call it a night.

One hand carried the cigarette back to her lips for another drag; the other pulled out her cell phone. Not even one o'clock yet, but what was this text she'd apparently received an hour ago? She didn't recognize the number... Tap to open and Josie felt the bottom of her stomach fall through her feet.

Even through her drunken haze Josie recognized both faces in the photo immediately. On the right, red hair spilled over a pillow, gloating smile, mole on her cheek, was the woman who'd shown up on Josie's doorstep back in February for a fight. On the left, blond hair mussed, light eyelashes fanned over his cheeks, lips slightly parted in sleep, was Cal.

Josie stared, cigarette dangling precariously, trying to unjumble her jumbled thoughts as something began bubbling up in her chest. She knew who the bitch was, knew what she was doing, but she vaguely remembered finding out she'd dumped Cal too some time ago, but here she was, that fucking whore, it wasn't enough that she and Cal had ruined everything, now she needed to salt the wound too?

"I won and you lost," the photo told Josie. "I may be a piece of shit shameless whore but he still chose me so what do that make you?"

Nothing Josie hadn't been telling herself, at least.

Arm taut, shoulder back, and her rage carried the phone in an arch over the street and onto the opposite sidewalk, where it clattered and skidded and hopefully broke into a million pieces. She needed another cigarette.

[Casey Snyder]

He hadn't exactly been looking for the woman, but he wasn't just doing nothing either. He was busy taking sips from his newly bought bottle of vodka as he nodded at random women passing by, shouting stuff that wouldn't be accepted in most situations. But being as tall as Casey was came with the perk not being addressed in a bad way all that much, and even if he did have someone on his hands who took a chance with him, he'd just beat the shit out of them.

He finally decided to go out into the fresh air with his bottle, knowing he'd likely not get in again and realized he was okay with that, shit was too crowded for his own good anyway. He was sure he'd end up stabbing someone with his bottle of vodka. And that would be a waste of perfectly good vodka.

With something of a buzz keeping him from walking like he usually did, but not to the extent of him being visibly awkward he struggled to get out of the club, brushing up against multiple people and throwing fucks and other insults around randomly on top of pushing people out of his way. Most people just eyed him and noticed the bottle of vodka in his hand, probably concluding that he was drunk and didn't know what he was saying. Though there were the people that said less than acceptable stuff to him, so, as expected he was thrown out by the bouncer as people complained about being punched.

As he finally got outside he inhaled deeply through his nose and took another swig of his vodka. The smell of smoke entered his nostrils and he heard people talking all around him, though not as loudly as inside the club. The lack of music was exciting too, he could hear himself spouting fucks right now if he wanted.

The sound of something hitting the ground loudly suddenly shook him out of his buzz as he noticed a phone clattering on the ground in a rain of little mechanical bits. He grinned slightly at how flimsy the companies made their phones these days, he could remember a time he could hammer a nail into a plank with a phone without it breaking.

He traced the arc of the phone back to try and see who threw it and saw that it was the same bitch from before, smoking, looking angry. Casey liked angry and stepped over to her.

''Say, bitch tits, something got you upset?''
He kinda hoped so.

[Josie Raines]

The voice addressing her sounded plenty different now that it wasn't yelling to be heard over pounding music, but Josie didn't have to guess twice who it belonged to. Only one person she'd met that night insisted on being so blatantly shitty, she thought with a grimace.

"Nah," she replied, before taking another pull from her cigarette. Her scowl betrayed her, but she didn't care if he knew she was lying. Like it was his business. "I was jus' ... practicin' my aim. Can't get - " A small burp escaped between her slurred words - " ...can't get too rushty, ya feel me?"

Josie leaned carefully against the wall to steady herself. Her head was spinning with drink and fury, but now that Captain Douchebag was back, she was all the more determined to stay on her feet.

[Casey Snyder]

Casey smirked widely at the woman and her reply and attempt at sounding more in control than she actually was. She wasn't okay, this much Case knew as he extended his hand. Maybe he was going to put his hand on the shoulder of the woman, maybe he was going to flip her off and add insult to injury.

''Smoke.'' He demanded as he wriggled his fingers back and forth. He didn't actually smoke, but it was the gesture that counted, he learned. And somehow he was making such a gesture right now. And whether he got a smoke or not he would still lean up against the wall next to her with his arms crossed, completely ignoring the slurred speech and the inability to stay on her own two feet. He just took in some of the fresh air (and some second hand smoke with it) and cracked a smile as he looked at the woman beside him.

''Who do you need killed?''
He wasn't lying, he'd do it. Maybe not now, but he felt she needed some irrational to go with the insane.

He walked over to his bike and turned on the ignition, revving it a few times to make sure it was running stationary.
''I can use a detour.''

[Josie Raines]

Rather than offer up a cigarette, Josie just glared at the man's extended hand in indecision. Should she cough one up? The guy was an asshole, no question, but he had purchased her an entire bottle of vodka. Which she'd promptly given away. Fuck, why did she do that? Another drink sounded mighty fine right now.

By before she could make up her mind, the man apparently gave up waiting, instead parking his ass and offering his services as a hitman.

"Who says I need anyone killed?" Josie demanded, stuffing her hands in her pockets. Not that she wouldn't mind throwing a few punches herself, but there was no way she was going to admit to this guy what had her worked up. "Maybe I jus' got that thing, y'know, 'reshting bitch face'."

She watched with relief as the man made for his bike. Good riddance, Josie thought. Hopefully he wasn't a frequent flier a this place or she might have to start avoiding it. Except apparently he wasn't leaving yet.

"...Detour?" she repeated, blinking slowly in confusion. What was he talking about?

[Casey Snyder]

''So, let me get this straight. I buy you a full dose of vodka and you refuse me a cigarette?'' He asked as he took a seat on his jet-black motorcycle. ''And don't even start with me about not wanting to kill someone. Everyone has this need to put someone under a few feet of dirt.'' He crossed his arms over his chest as he, without liking to admit to anything of the sort, a smile crept on his face.

Casey rubbed down his arm and shrugged slightly. Whatever, right? Not like he could force her anyway. She seemed fun, bit drunk, but fun. That and she was feisty, Case liked feisty.

He took his phone from his pocket -for some reason the newest model that had come out, which was way too expensive for his own taste, but hey, selling bikes- and quickly glanced over the time, way too early to go sleep, way too early to even be tired. Maybe he'd go for a few rounds through town, get the buzz out of his system.

''Oh and if you feel like hitting someone, stabbing some chests, I'm right here shitface. Bring it.'' He offered, not as a joke but as a very real outlet. He'd heal, unless she stabbed him in the face or something. She'd just need to provide food for him. Speaking of, his stomach was beginning to speak up quite a bit.

''So, tits McGee.'' He began as he sat down on his bike in the riding position and kicked the standard out from under it, using his own two feet to keep it up right. ''Wanna go for a spin, ride your buzz away?'' And with riding he didn't necessarily meant on his bike.

[Josie Raines]

If he wanted to take Josie's silence as refusal, fine. She wasn't about to feel guilty over a single cig, not when he was the one begging. Nor was she going to let him needle her into crying on his shoulder or whatever he was going for.

She scoffed at his stabbing suggestion, having failed to notice his hand healing back in the dark, crowded bar. Either he was some kind of masochist or he was hoping he could sue her, maybe buy himself another fancy phone or bike.

"Thanks but no thanks," Josie replied as she stubbed out her cigarette under her boot. "I only beat up guys who don't get off on it."

The idea of which was more tempting every time he called her some stupid name. "Tits McGee"? Barf. But as he watched her expectantly, she realized his offer was serious - at least, the offer for a spin. Which was crazy, the guy was a prick with no name and an attitude problem. So why was she abandoning her post on the wall and walking towards him?

"Kinda rishky, innit?" she asked him. Now that he was seated, illuminated by the streetlights around them, she had a better look at his face, the tattoos climbing out of his sleeves and collar. "How d'you know I'm not some kinda serial killer, pickin' off -hic- shitheads I meet in clubs?"

The line was a joke, but Josie certainly didn't know he wasn't a serial killer. She couldn't find it in herself to be afraid, though. There wasn't enough room in her head for it, not with the anger lingering from the photo and taking up so much space. Hell, if he wanted to fight, it almost felt like she could take him on adrenaline alone.

[Casey Snyder]

Risky? Possibly. But weren't risks fun? Besides, in her current state Casey could take her with both arms behind his back. And if everything was going to go according to plan, he'd do just that. He smirked at her comment about serial killers as she walked over to him.

''Because, Tits on a stick,'' Case started with his arms crossed over his chest. ''if you were you wouldn't be doing a very good job. You tried to lose me back there, remember?'' He pointed to the club they had just left with his index finger. In all honesty, she would have been doing a good job because anyone willing to scout out a woman who had all but rejected him was a bit of a douche.

He turned back to the dash on his bike and revved it some more. ''So, what'll it be, you gonna join me or not?''

[Josie Raines]

The man could probably have seen the cogs spinning in Josie's brain from where he sat. She was drunk, not a child - she knew what he wanted. Or at least suspected very strongly. He was a man she'd met at a bar, she'd have to be an idiot not to figure it out, right? And that was all the reason she needed to just flip him the bird and walk away. Walk back home, to her apartment, to the bed she'd left unmade because no one else was around to care, the bed that waited empty for her every night for the last six months. Where she'd expected to return when she'd set out that night, because that was how every night ended.

For her, anyway. Not for Cal. Just her.

Eyes leveled steadily on his, Josie cocked her head to the side and smirked. Maybe she could still play herself off as casual, in control.

"Make it worth my time, asshole." Without another word she swung one leg over to straddle the bike behind him, snaking both arms around his waist in preparation for takeoff. Josie neglected to ask about a helmet; like safety was anywhere near a priority as this point. She just wanted to be gone.

[Casey Snyder]

After a short fleeting moment in which he realized with a smirk the woman before him was really just trying to win time, he found her eyes on his as she took place on the bike, wrapping her arms around him for their takeoff. Before they actually took off Casey grinned as he looked over his shoulder. ''No helmet? Daring. I like that in women.''

He slowly stepped forward with the bike between his legs and placed one of his hands on the arms of the woman, shooting her a brief smirk. ''We all know you want to lower your hands.''

[Josie Raines]

"Jus' go 'fore I change my mind," Josie snapped. Or before she threw up all over his back. Was it the liquor that was making her stomach churn and clench like that, or the feeling that this was a really fuckin stupid idea?