Page 25 of Worse Fates

“Fuck you, fate.”

Suddenly, and with a keenness that demands immediate action, all I want is to go home.

Pushing up and darting out of the alley, I rush between pedestrians and their screaming kids to get to the long line of waiting taxis.

Jumping inside, the scent of lemon cleaner hits me while I drop into the soft leather seats.

“Where do you wanna go, mate?” The gruff driver asks.

Rattling off the address, I close my eyes as we glide away from the curb; for once grateful the driver isn’t a talker. Away from flashing lights and into the night.

The journey back is long, but I know every pothole on the road to my neighbourhood. And from the way I’m jerking in my seat, I’m home. The place is rundown, more shops boarded up than open. Concrete flats towering so high it makes me dizzy. It’s nearly seven at night, but already it’s so dark the street lights are on, and everyone’s avoiding the cold.

The driver stops outsideKing’s Tattoo Studio, and I hand over a bundle of cash I picked-pocketed yesterday, before jumping out. The studio front is bright red, the name a flourish at the top and a window painting of a skeleton king of hearts in bold colours, grinning.

The bell over the door dings as I enter and come face to face with a hulking blonde man covered in tattoos.

“No fucking way!” I’m swept up into his arms. “The prodigal son has returned.”

A bolt of laughter jumps out of me. “Hey, Luuk.”

“Oi, Kai! Get out here, Golden’s back!” Luuk calls, dropping me down and shooting his big goofy grin.

“Golden?” Kai storms out of his room, wrapped in his usual leather jacket covered in purple painted designs. A small unicorn pencil tucked behind his ear.

He’s taller than me, but shorter than Luuk. Kai’s got light brown skin with bleached braids that sit on his shoulders, and cover half his face.

“You bellend!” He punches my shoulder.

“Ouch!” I grumble, rubbing where Kai hit.

“You deserve it!” Kai yells, shoulders tense. “I’ve been so bloody worried!”

“I know, I’m sorry.” I tug on his arm, coaxing him into a hug. “C’mon grumpy puss, hug me back.”

He grunts, but soon I’ve got an armful of my friend. “Idiot.”

A short man, warm brown skin like my own, with a mess of wavy black hair sitting on top of his head, strolls out the kitchen and hands me a cup of tea in a mug with my name on it. “I told you he’d be back.”

I take the tea, smiling. “You knew, Apollo?”

“How was the wacky burger, lad?” he asks.

“You…wait-...what?”

He shrugs, grinning.

Apollo is like that, saying random weird shit which either comes true,istrue or makes no bloody sense. Normally, we chalk it up to Apollo being an odd guy. But with all I’ve learnt, I wonder if he’s magical.

Hopefully not cursed.

A woman with peachy white skin and blonde hair, wearing paint-covered overalls and black rings on every finger, comes up from the basement. “Are we talking burgers? Because I’m starving.”

“Hey, Summer.”

“I was wondering when you’d pop back up, babe.” Summer grins, kissing my cheek. “Don’t run off again. Or at least answer your texts.”

“I know, I'm terrible.”