I Wanna Get Off This Riiiiiiide Now [Cedric Costello]

[Magdalena (DELETED 8618)]

The beat of the music pounded against the back of her skull. If she were a porcelain doll, her eyes would have fallen back into her head by now. The tiny blind girl pushes her way through the throng of club-goers, apologizing pathetically as her walking stick banged against shins. She almost wanted to throw up, but not in here, not with the crowd. They’d look at her. They’d see how gross she was.

She could barely hear herself think. Maggie wanted to scream. She couldn’t see the eyes on her, but she could feel them, feel them judging her. She didn’t even want to be here. Maggie could’ve been home, could’ve been tending to her doll collection, could’ve finally fixed Little Lola’s messed up hair that Moira had ruined.

Finally, finally, she burst free of the sea of limbs and torsos only to fall to her knees and start to dry heave. She hadn’t gotten the chance to eat before her sister had shoved her in the car. As it stopped, she lowered her head to the cold concrete and imagined how Moira would look with a knife stuck in the back of her head.

[Cedric Costello]

The Cocoa Bean had been set up so that, when Cedric was not there, it could run itself. Although he did check in every night to make sure everything was in order, most of the time it was only for a couple of minutes, half an hour at most. Unless he was at the piano, in which case he could spend hours. Tonight was not one of those night.

Tonight, Cedric was on the prowl. Although he hated the music at these clubs, it was where he had to go. It was the easiest way to find what he needed. It was the easiest way to find lonely girls, similarly on the prowl. Some looking for a good time, others looking for something more. None of them should have been looking for Cedric, but some of them found him anyway. Later they would regret it – but they wouldn’t have the time to really dwell on it, unless there was life after death. At least he showed them a good time beforehand. At least they didn’t suffer.

Though this time, it seemed, he didn’t even have to go inside. Out on the cement pavement, a girl was hunched and retching. Cedric watched from a distance, making certain that he wasn’t going to get vomit all over his good shoes. When he did approach, it was to hold out a hand, an invitation to help the girl to stand.

”The music in there makes me sick, too,” he said, accent definitely European – somewhat Dutch, somewhat French, a strange combination of both. Though his English was perfect.

[Magdalena (DELETED 8618)]

Maggie jumped. The voice -- the man's voice -- entered her ears in a way that drowned out the cacophonous drone of music. Her ears were ringing as he finished speaking, not because of volume but rather surprise. He was closer than she expected anyone to actually get to her, especially if she looked as ill as she thought she did.

She didn't react to the hand -- couldn't see it. Rather, she groped in the dark for her iconic red and white cane and sliped the loop back around her wrist before standing on her own. Maggie knew how she must look -- a tiny girl who got in over her head at a big girl's club. Probably looked hideous, too, after being nearly sick and squishing her face against the pavement.

What she didn't know was that she looked absolutely fine. A bit pale from the shock, yes, but certainly not a monster. Light bounced off her opaque, unfocused white-blue eyes, making it clear that her failure to take his help was out of ignorance rather than spite.

"Sorry, sorry. I'm sorry. I'll get out of your way," she apologized hurriedly.

[Cedric Costello]

The hand was not taken, and Cedric had to arch a brow. Independence was a virtue, for sure – but it was then that he noticed the cane. She looped her hand through it, and stood, and he didn’t have to look at her strange eyes to realise she was blind. Interesting. What was a blind girl doing at a club like this? Was she some kind of female Daredevil, able to navigate the crowds and wanting only to move to the music – or let the music move her. But, well, she was tiny. Instead, Cedric couldn’t help but get the impression that she’d just get trampled by the ignorant and merciless masses.

He cleared his throat as he folded his hands in front of him, head canted to the side.

”Now what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” he asked, hardly subtle himself. Clearly she wasn’t enjoying herself, if she was out here on the pavement trying (and failing) to throw her guts up. Maybe she was a vampire who didn’t realise she couldn’t drink yet – but if that was the case, she’d definitely have found something to purge. Cedric had only to reach forward and hover his hand over the skin of the girl’s arm – not touching, but able to feel the heat radiating from it. Definitely human. The music pounding from the entrance obscured any heartbeat that he might be able to hear.

”You look like you could get trampled in there…” he suggested. Preamble, to what he might suggest next, though he couldn’t help but try to guess. How old was she, really? To what depths would his depravity fall? Of age, for sure… at least. He should have just kept walking, but even Cedric was curious as to what lengths he would go to sate his needs.

[Magdalena (DELETED 8618)]

Middle school. Nathan Sweet had asked her to the eigth grade dance out of pity but left her on the dance floor to go hang out with his friends instead. High school. Everyone treated her like glass or only spoke to her if they needed to get in touch with Moira for some reason. Moira was the popular one, anyway. At least she was useful when she served as a messenger.

If Moira said she'd never have any friends, why should Maggie question it? Her older sister certainly had that power.

If so, then why was this mysterious man with the alluring voice even bothering to question her? She wasn't worth his time and she didn't want to pester him with her talk about dolls and knitting.

But his voice was so deep and nice... it was selfish, but she wanted to hear him speak more.

"I'm here with my sister. I didn't want to come but she insisted I needed to get out of the house," Maggie admitted, a hint of bite in her voice. "I don't know why she bothers. She's just going to get smashed and forget me here."

It had happened before, Moira getting drunk and going off with some guy and leaving Maggie alone at the bar. She'd ended up having to beg the owner's wife for a ride home because it wasn't like she had enough cash for a taxi. Mom certainly wasn't going to answer her calls, especially so late at night. Chances were she was already stuck in this hellhole, her only lifeline this enigmatic stranger.

"You have a lovely voice," she said absently, not even registering she'd said it. Maggie almost wanted to smile, but the very fact that anything made her happy was so preposterous that not even twitch of her lips manifested.

[Cedric Costello]

Cedric couldn’t say that he’d ever had any trouble with social mores. As a teenager, he’d been a bit of a recluse but it had been his own choice. But he still had to go to school, and even when he was studying at the conservatorium, he’d had friends. Friends who were all as obsessed with their music as he was with his. While they didn’t often frequent the mainstream clubs, they did find social hubs where they belonged, where there was music that they enjoyed – like piano bars, for example – and where they could enjoy their own brand of revelry. There was almost always drugs involved. It was so very Hemingway, but set in the grunge of Brussels proper, rather than in the twinkling lights of Paris.

The pianist had to chuckle at the compliment; had he ever been told he had a nice voice before? Probably not. But then, he’d never had a full conversation with a blind person, either, who would be more likely to pick up on things like that.

”I’m holding out my arm,” he said, even as he held out his arm, crooked at the elbow, for the blind woman to take if she chose to. All she would have to do is lift her hand and she would find it.

”And suggesting that we go somewhere else, then. Leave your sister behind, for once. Show her how it feels,” he said. And he sounded perfectly happy to do so, as if he were a good Samaritan performing a service for someone in need, with no requirement of repayment. Cedric almost believed it himself, that he didn’t have any ulterior motives. But who was he kidding, really?

Cedric Costello almost always had ulterior motives.