Sphinx
The girls next to him are no different, short dresses.
Dresses short enough for me to know they both agent wearing underwear, unfortunately. Their hair is all over the show sticking at odd ends and laying flat against their faces. But they're aware, not drunk to the point of oblivion.
"Where you been?" Freddie's slur cause his saliva to land smack on my face.
Rubbing at the now infected skin, I turn my head to him.
"Work. Yo, where's the tattoo artists?" I have to shout in order for him to hear me because unlike him I don't shout for a living.
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