I'm no one.
She'd only been at the Hotel a brief while, so when Alice returned to New York, her things were still in her apartment. She sighed, laying down on her bed and staring at the ceiling. What the fuck did I have to come home to? She didn't understand the Hotel and didn't pretend to, but she did know what awaited her in New York.
An empty apartment.
A dead-end job.
Memories she didn't want.
She rolled over on her bed, pulling a teddybear to her chest and sighing. I only have twenty-four hours of freedom. What do I want to do? She went to her bookshelf, reading bits and pieces of novels like a starving man at a buffet, trying to ingest as many words she loved as possible. She took some money out of a jar - a poor woman's savings account - and shoved it all into her pockets. She walked down West 48th street, glad that her ankle had healed up a bit. It was still sore, but she figured walking would give it a workout. She consoled herself a bit by giving money to every homeless person she saw on her way to the club where she worked. She stopped into a convenience store for a pack of cigarettes, smoking as she walked. She checked her watch, sighing when she saaw the time. Noon. The club wouldn't be open.
She stood on a corner, tears filling her eyes. I got sucked into a crazy alternate universe, and all I want is to go back. How twisted am I? She ducked into an alley, sitting down and pulling her knees to her chest while she smoked. She practiced making smoke rings, stretching out. She figured she could get a bite to eat until a pub opened. I could always call Dan. She stood up, gritting her teeth. The thought had come from left field, unwanted and immediately rejected. I could also put a fork into my damn eye.
She had a leisurely dinner of pizza (if only because New York pizza wasn't something she'd be able to get anywhere else) followed by window shopping. She looked at her watch, and headed back in the direction of the club at five. She only had a few hours left.
When she walked in, most of the girls were just getting warmed up. The few co-workes she could call friends came over to her, wondering where she'd been lately. Alice made something up, knowing that telling the truth would only result in eyerolling disbelief.
You get a day of freedom from the Hotel, and all you can do is go to your apartment, eat pizza, and watch strippers. Alice went backstage and found the couch that all the girl stretched out on between sets. She laid down on it, balling her fists and willing herself not to cry. It was a losing battle, and she felt her eyes tear up. My life has always been about the people in it.
And right now there's nobody in it.
She grit her teeth, trying not to focus on the ticking of the clock that Venus kept in her locker. But it had a dual purpose, lulling her to sleep as well as keeping time.
She rolled over, grunting when a rock dug into her back. "Fucking - " She sat up, holding her head. Sand. I'm back. She sat up, dusted her jeans off, and walked toward the hotel. I want a drink. I don't even know what kind. But I want one.
An empty apartment.
A dead-end job.
Memories she didn't want.
She rolled over on her bed, pulling a teddybear to her chest and sighing. I only have twenty-four hours of freedom. What do I want to do? She went to her bookshelf, reading bits and pieces of novels like a starving man at a buffet, trying to ingest as many words she loved as possible. She took some money out of a jar - a poor woman's savings account - and shoved it all into her pockets. She walked down West 48th street, glad that her ankle had healed up a bit. It was still sore, but she figured walking would give it a workout. She consoled herself a bit by giving money to every homeless person she saw on her way to the club where she worked. She stopped into a convenience store for a pack of cigarettes, smoking as she walked. She checked her watch, sighing when she saaw the time. Noon. The club wouldn't be open.
She stood on a corner, tears filling her eyes. I got sucked into a crazy alternate universe, and all I want is to go back. How twisted am I? She ducked into an alley, sitting down and pulling her knees to her chest while she smoked. She practiced making smoke rings, stretching out. She figured she could get a bite to eat until a pub opened. I could always call Dan. She stood up, gritting her teeth. The thought had come from left field, unwanted and immediately rejected. I could also put a fork into my damn eye.
She had a leisurely dinner of pizza (if only because New York pizza wasn't something she'd be able to get anywhere else) followed by window shopping. She looked at her watch, and headed back in the direction of the club at five. She only had a few hours left.
When she walked in, most of the girls were just getting warmed up. The few co-workes she could call friends came over to her, wondering where she'd been lately. Alice made something up, knowing that telling the truth would only result in eyerolling disbelief.
You get a day of freedom from the Hotel, and all you can do is go to your apartment, eat pizza, and watch strippers. Alice went backstage and found the couch that all the girl stretched out on between sets. She laid down on it, balling her fists and willing herself not to cry. It was a losing battle, and she felt her eyes tear up. My life has always been about the people in it.
And right now there's nobody in it.
She grit her teeth, trying not to focus on the ticking of the clock that Venus kept in her locker. But it had a dual purpose, lulling her to sleep as well as keeping time.
She rolled over, grunting when a rock dug into her back. "Fucking - " She sat up, holding her head. Sand. I'm back. She sat up, dusted her jeans off, and walked toward the hotel. I want a drink. I don't even know what kind. But I want one.