“This is unfair.” Powder stood with crossed arms outside the dingy red pickup.
“You gotta make friends somehow, Pow-Pow.” Mylo called from the driver’s seat. He rested his arm on the car door, where the window had been before it was lowered. “We all know no one’s gonna hang out with you unless they’re forced to.”
“Hey,” Vi snapped, Mylo shrunk back inside the vehicle. She turned to Powder and put a hand on her shoulder, “If you don’t wanna go, you don’t have to, but you were the one who begged-“
“I do want to go! It’s just-“ She fidgeted with her hands, then sent Vi a look that made her heart hurt. “Why can’t you come with me?”
“I promised Vander I’d teach Mylo to drive.” She raised a hand, counting off her fingers, “Then I gotta help out at The Last Drop, get groceries for dinner, do laundry, then I got those assignments for class, homework-“
“Homework.” Mylo scoffed. “We all know that’s code for your second job that Vander doesn’t know about-“
“It’s like you want to get punched.” Mylo snickered obnoxiously. Vi rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, forcing a smile out of the blue haired girl. “Point is, I’m busy. Besides, this’ll be fun. You can meet some new friends and get help with that thingy you’re working on.”
“Bah. Friends.”Powder shuddered dramatically. “Why does everyone make such a big deal about having friends? What’s so good about them, huh? I mean, you don’t have any friends and no one gives you any crap.”
Ignoring Mylo’s laughter behind her, Vi huffed, trying to find the right words to convince her sister she’d be fine on her own.
Her eyes were unwillingly drawn away at the sight of another familiar head of blue hair. Caitlyn had spotted the little group, and she’d perked up once their eyes met. She gave an excited closed mouth smile, waving one hand while the other clutched her textbooks to her chest.
Vi bit back a matching grin, sending a discreet wave back. She got a glimpse of Cait’s smile widening, tooth gap becoming fully visible.
“What’re you-“ Powder frowned, turning to look over her shoulder. Vi panicked momentarily.
“Little man!” She blurted out.
Powder tensed in her grip. “Where?”
“He told me he goes to the Engineering club after school too. You won’t be all by yourself.”
“Ooo, Powder and Little Man hanging out after school,” Mylo sung mockingly, Powder’s face turned bright pink and she sputtered angrily.
“I’m leaving.” She gripped both straps of her baby blue backpack, spinning on her heels to head back into the building.
“See you, Pow-Pow!”
“Use protection! We don’t need any little Powders running around- ow!”
——————-
The music store was quiet, as usual. The last of the stragglers browsing through vinyls had left a some time ago, leaving Vi at the register with little to do other than wait.
Technically, she was supposed to be putting out the new stock from the delivery, but since Benzo wouldn’t be in till Saturday - which was three days away - she decided she’d do it tomorrow to keep the store quiet for just a little longer.
Was it a little selfish? Maybe. But in her defence, she’d been looking forward to this all week. Ever since Benzo had first told her they were getting a delivery of new, limited edition Motörhead merchandise she’d been vibrating with anticipation over getting her hands on it.
As a little added perk for working there, Benzo let Vi get first pick over deliveries. Something about it being important to pass good metal down to the younger generation- or whatever.
None of that really registered. All Vi could think about was finally being able to rifle through all the boxes she’d brought in near the start of her shift.
She felt a little guilty for keeping her second job from Vander, but she knew he’d never agree with it.
He’d always been a ‘school-first’ type of guy. If he found out that Vi was working while she was still barely passing most her classes he’d make her quit straight away.
A real hypocrite, if Vi did say so herself. He had adopted Mylo and Claggor about six years ago. Thats how they’d first met. Mylo, Claggor, her and Powder all roughed it out in the same group home since they were kids and Vi and Powder made a point to visit once she’d heard some guy had decided to take them away.
She had to make sure he was a good guy before letting him take her brothers.
He was. Because he cared. He cared so much that he wasn’t just making sure Mylo and Claggor were fed and warm and happy, he started doing the same for Powder. Then her.
After a particularly bad fight with some of the other kids in the group home, he brought up the idea of fostering her and Powder. Just to get you out of there for a while, he’d explained.
That was two years ago, the adoption becoming official just one year after and over those years he was adamant that Vi learn to stop being so stubborn and accept help from others.
Though now, when the Last Drop was barely breaking even and Vander was working double triple shifts, too tired to even try hiding the threatening letters he’d been receiving from the bank, he refused to accept any money Vi gave.
The only way she could help out was, luckily, through the only way she knew how. Taking care of her siblings.
She started taking them back to school shopping without asking Vander, offering to teach Mylo to drive instead of paying for real lessons and buying clothes and groceries before Vander even knew they needed them.
Vi made sure to not argue when he insisted on paying her back - this part was essential on avoiding suspicion - but pointedly made sure to never remind him once he inevitably forgot after getting home from another 12 hour shift.
The jingle of the bell above the door sounded out and Vi’s attention snapped away from where she was absently colour coding the records behind the register.
Caitlyn looked entirely out of place amongst the black walls and metal posters, but Vi knew better.
Despite her neatly pressed blouse paired with a cream vest, black skirt and tights, all of which probably costed more than Vi’s entire wardrobe put together, Vi knew that Caitlyn was right at home.
She was grinning widely the second she registered who was at the door, and Cait was grinning right back.
“Is it here?” The blue-haired girl was practically vibrating with excitement.
“Hell yeah.” Vi said, then she was launching herself over the counter the way Benzo always told her not to and sprinting across the store to the backroom. “I call first dibs!”
“Vi!” There was a moment of shock before thudding footsteps were hot on Vi’s tail. “That’s cheating!”
Throwing the door open, she promptly ignored Caitlyn.
The pair had done this song and dance before. It was a classic free for all, first one who gets there gets first picks. Vi had been on a losing streak for the past 4 shipments with Cait finding the coolest stuff first, and she wasn’t losing again.
(There was more than enough for both of them, and Caitlyn always shared her finds but still, it hurt her ego.)
She dropped to her knees, sliding across the smooth flooring till her knees hit the first of the boxes she’d brought in earlier, immediately beginning to rummage.
The sound of Caitlyn’s hurried footsteps came from behind her. The other girl placed her functional black leather backpack on the floor, elegantly folded her legs beneath her before rifling through a different box.
“Oh my god, Cait.”
“What?”
Vi pulled out her prize with reverence. Turning to look at the girl behind her with wide eyes. “T-shirts.”
Caitlyn gasped. A black Mötorhead T-shirt hit her in the face with a fwump.
She glared at the pink haired girl for a maximum of two seconds before she couldn’t resist the urge to analyse the find.
It was all black, with white scrawl on the front depicting the logo and band name. On the back was the words, ‘Make a Difference, Go Fuck Yourself’ and it was everything.
“Holy shit, some of these are signed!”
“Really?” Caitlyn abandoned her box to crawl over to Vi’s, peering over her shoulder.
The pink-haired girl’s breath stuttered as she felt Cait press against her back. The warmth felt impossible to ignore, but she resolved to do so anyway.
There had been a lot of new developments in her life. Getting a second job that Vander didn’t know about, teaching Mylo to drive, the other thing.
None of which threw a spanner in the works like Caitlyn Kiramman did.
“I’m gonna frame it and put it on my ceiling so it’s the last thing I see before I go to sleep.” Cait spoke softly, eyes shining with delight.
Her breath against Vi’s ear made her shiver. The words lilted pleasingly with her posh, Piltie accent and it sounded like a voice Vi wouldn’t mind hearing for the rest of her life.
“You sound so creepy right now.” She said instead.
Cait laughed, shoving her in a way that held no real force before shuffling forward to take her pick.
“Socks, hoodies, posters.” Each word was delivered with more excitement than the last, and Vi felt her inner die-hard metal lover rear its head. “Beanies?”
Yeah Vi. Forget your stupid crush on your best and only friend. Who cares? You got Mötorhead merch.
“Underwear?” Vi rummaged in the box before pulling out a pair of boxers.
The pair regarded each other for a moment before they both dove for the pile.
“Give me it!”
“It’s mine, I found it!”
“I need it! My mother would have a fit if she saw half of this stuff, I don’t have any other way to express myself!”
“I don’t care about your sob stories, Kirmman. It’s first come, first serve!”
Caitlyn realised she wasn’t gonna win the tug of war and let go of her side early. Vi’s back hit the floor with a thud as she whooped in triumph.
Huffing, Cait poured for a moment before pulling out the big guns.
“Please, Vi?” She asked, with big blue eyes and her brows raised, pointing upwards in a pleasing manner, and enough sweetness to rot teeth.
And how could Vi say no?
“There’s more in here anyway.” She grumbled, ducking her head to hide pink cheeks while rifling through the box for a new pair.
Cait happily folded hers and set it aside for safe keeping. “I know.” She replied happily. “But I wanted these.”
The jingle of the bell above the door rung out and the pair groaned exaggeratedly.
“I’ll be right back.” Vi pushed herself to her feet. “Did you bring your CD Player?”
“Obviously. Did you bring your math homework?”
“Obviously.” She mocked, relishing in Cait’s over exaggerated eye roll before she slipped through the door to head behind the counter.
So yeah, there had been a lot of new developments in Vi’s life.
None of which were half as damning as Caitlyn Kiramman.
When she’d first strolled into Benzo’s Music Store, she’d half thought the girl had gotten lost on her way to the hair salon a few blocks over.
They’d stared at each other for a good few minutes before Vi reluctantly peeled her gaze away to help out a customer.
Caitlyn had looked just as out of place then as she did now. There had been a new shipment of Judas Priest albums so the store had been full of grown men with enough piercings to explode a metal detector. And there was Caitlyn. With her freshly straightened hair and ironed clothes, perusing the bestsellers with the same care and focus she gave to her textbooks.
Vi couldn’t help the way her gaze shifted over to her every time she had the chance. While she was waiting for someone’s card payment to go through, or when a group hmm’ed and ah’ed over buying an extra CD as a gift.
She couldn’t help it! Valedictorian Caitlyn Kiramman. Captain of the Shooting Team Caitlyn Kiramman. Politician’s daughter Caitlyn-mother-fucking-Kiramman, slumming it in a metal record store in Zaun.
And she had surprisingly good taste. Vi observed, looking down at the array of CDs she’d brought to checkout.
“Just these, please.”
Vi jolted, realizing she’d just been staring at her for an awkwardly long time before she stuttered into motion like an old car with a shoddy engine.
She stared in a mixture of impressed disbelief at every CD she scanned. Judas Priest, Lamb of God, Slough Feg, Mötorhead.
Shakily, she pushed the stack of CDs across the counter to the other girl who watched silently.
“Do you-“ She hesitated, then cut herself off with a shake of the head. “Nevermind. Card please?”
Vi complied. She feigned aloofness until the interaction was over, then stared after her in stunned silence once her back was turned.
“See you tomorrow.” Cait called over her shoulder, sending Vi a small smile that made her heart stammer as she was caught staring.
“B-bye!” Vi said, at an embarrassingly loud volume that made a few heads turn. Caitlyn’s smile widened at that, laughing at her, Vi realised, and she was out the door. Leaving only a pleasant smelling mist of coconut and vanilla body spray behind her.
Tomorrow.Vi registered. Tomorrow. At school. Oh fuck.
In retrospect, it was a little bit of a dramatic reaction. The worst thing Cait could’ve done was tell people at school but the red head with shaved sides, piercings and scars working at a metal music store wasn’t exactly breaking news.
Besides. She didn’t do that.
Cait instead continued to frequent the store regularly, and over time the two became something close to friendly.
Vi didn’t want to jump the gun and call them friends yet, (and a part of her knew that she didn’t feel about Cait the way friends felt about friends.) seeing as they only ever spoke in the store.
It could be the case that Caitlyn was just using her for early access to the newest stock. An outlet for an interest that she couldn’t find amongst her Piltie friends and in exchange, she occasionally helped Vi with math.
But for some reason, Vi felt so sure that Caitlyn wasn’t like that.
Maybe it was because she never let Vi sell her something that hadn’t been stocked yet. Maybe because she never let Vi gift her any of the recalled, or discontinued, or soon-to-be-sold-out items. Maybe it was because Cait had told her about how she wanted to be a reporter and she aimed to root out corruption and make the world a better place.
Maybe Vi found it hard to believe that someone who could have such an amazing goal, someone who could believe so stronglythat the world could be better, that other people - even Vi - could be better, would do something like that.
Or maybe it’s because you have a big fat crush on her. That part of her inner monologue had Mylo’s voice.
Vi had long since become accustomed to her feelings. She’d denied them at first, but there was only so much she could do when such a pretty girl was looking her in the eyes and telling her that ‘Darkthrone was pretty much responsible for the sound of modern black metal.’
But Vi had also come accustomed to the knowledge that her feelings could never be acted on. Lest she ruin what was probably one of the things she looked forward to the most after a long day.
Besides, they weren’t that close anyway.Vi reasoned. Caitlyn probably had hundreds of friends and Vi was just putting too much importance on the one person she talked to outside of family.
“Thanks kid.” One of her regulars called out, bag full of vinyls in hand. Vi waited impatiently till he was out the door before she vaulted over the counter and jogged towards the back.
“Aw, what?” Caitlyn looked up at Vi like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “You started without me?”
She’d been sat with her back against the wall, legs straight out with her portable CD player in her lap, headphones already plugged in and from the faint noise in the quiet room, she’d already started listening.
“I’m sorry.” Caitlyn had the decency to sound guilty. “I couldn’t help it. You were taking ages and I was looking forward to this all day.”
“So was I!” Vi huffed, slinking over and sliding down the wall to sit next to her.
“I’m really sorry,” Cait bumped her shoulder softly against Vi’s own before letting it rest there and sending the other girl’s heart into overdrive. They locked eyes, and Caitlyn raised the other headphone with a hopeful look.
“Fine.” She grumbled, taking the headphone and averting her gaze. She pointedly ignored the warmth on her face and hoped Caitlyn wouldn’t mention how pink she must’ve been. “But I want you to know how good I’ve been. I got the shipment at the start of my shift and I waited all this time for you.”
“I know, Vi. You’re very good.” Caitlyn laughed lightly. The way she spoke was as if she was reassuring a small child that she liked their drawing.
The metal drowned out the musical quality of Cait’s laugh, her unwanted thought and Vi let her eyes close to fully take it in.
——————
The desk crashed against the wall with a solid slam. The wiry man behind the counter cowered against the wall as two of the goons closed in on him, wrapping meaty arms around his to drag him forward to the third man who watched impassively.
“Your check bounced.” Was all he said. Then the goon on the left kicked the back of the shopkeeper’s knees, making them buckle and sending him to the ground with a yelp.
The goon on the right then began to prank about the small bookstore. Slamming into shelves and smashing decorations.
Each loud crash and smash made the shopkeeper wince, knowing he’d be in the red for months before he could afford to get it fixed.
“How can we protect you from these troublemakers if you don’t give us the funding? You ain’t learn your lesson from last time?” The guy’s tone was mocking, almost pitying if it wasn’t for the wide greasy smile on his chapped lips.
“P-please,” He startled with a shout as another bookshelf came crashing to the ground. “I’ll get you the money. I’ll get you double- triple!”
The goon smashing things stopped, glancing over at the man in charge who shrugged. “Sounds good to me.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you-“
“But in the meantime,” With a snap of his fingers, the other goon went back to smashing the store. He pulled out a knife and ripped into the small couches in the corner labelled ‘The Reading Nook’ and tore down the children’s drawings on the wall.
“No! No, please!”
“Just some insurance.” He spoke loudly over the crashing. “To make sure you remember to pay us this time.”
He stepped forward, towering over the pitiful shopkeeper who knelt on the floor. The goon behind him was no longer restraining his arms, so the hard boot across his face sent him sprawling onto the floor, glasses knocked clean off his face.
“And to remind you, you sad sack of shit,” He gripped a handful of the guy’s hair, yanking him up to spit in his face. “That no one’s gonna help you. Not Vander. Not the ‘Hound of the Underground’. No one. And-“
The bell above the door of the bookstore jingled pleasantly.
There stood a figure, clad in a black leather jacket with a popped collar and silver spiked lacing the edges. There was a rubber dog mask over their head, reminiscent of an angry grey Doberman. One that had long since become familiar for everyone in the Undercity.
“Hellhound.” The man snarled, releasing the shopkeeper who had begun sobbing in relief. “Speak of the devil.”
The figure said nothing. Standing at the door with hands in the pockets of their leather jacket. White wraps winded around their chest and stomach, acting almost as an undershirt. The same wraps laced their hands up to the elbow, ready for fighting.
“My boss is real pissed about you getting involved in our business. Thinks it’s time we had a discussion-“
The man’s face whipped upwards, spittle flying from his now broken jaw as the Hellhound flew forward, sending the uppercut to end all uppercuts and knocking the guy clean out.
The closest goon sprung into action, rushing forward to be met with a series of jabs and hooks he took on the chin.
He swung wildly, far bigger than the hound and with hands that could definitely cause some damage.
If he could land a hit, that is. The Hound expertly ducked under blows, leaning back to avoid hooks before sending a jab to her face, pausing the onslaught.
The Hound didn’t let up. They stepped in the guy’s space, sending a combination of punches to the stomach, punching him back before finishing with a powerful spinning kick that launched the guy so hard into the wall pieces of rubble came down from the ceiling.
He groaned, sliding down on his ass before passing out.
Hellhound didn’t bother watching. Levelling the mask’s intense stare onto the final goon’s hulking figure at the back of the store.
He looked torn, glancing between the door and the attacker. Despite the size difference, the goon wasn’t blind to how his friends had just been annihilated.
Nor was he deaf to the stories of the Hound of the Underground, who took down criminals thrice their size in a single blow.
Hell, he’d just watched it happen.
“We’ll give the money back, okay?” He tried, reaching into the pocket of his jacket to throw his wallet across the floor.
It landed inches from the Hellhound’s large leather boot. They didn’t spare it a glance, stare locked on the goon.
“That’s- that’s all I have.” The stare didn’t waver. “Look man, we don’t get to keep the fees. It all goes to boss, we- we’re just workers, you know?”
He warily stepped forward. The Hound made no movement of approval or disapproval for the action so he continued, aiming for the door.
“I got a family too, I got a kid at home. You can’t make money nowhere else, not enough for a family. I mean, you’re one of us! You know how it is.” He chuckled nervously, giving the Hound a wide berth as he inched closer and closer to the door, all with that same impassive stare locked onto his every move.
Once close enough, the goon pulled open the door and ran. As fast and as far away as he could.
Hellhound turned their gaze to the sobbing shopkeeper on the floor.
“Oh, thank you, thank you, sir, you’re a good soul, a great soul-“ He cut himself off as a paper was shoved in his face.
During his babbling, the Hellhound had picked up a scrap of paper that had been lying scattered on the floor near the upturned desk and using a nearby pen wrote one word.
“‘Vander?’”Theman hesitated, glancing up at the intimidating mask with confusion. “What- what about him?”
The Hound turned back to the paper, writing something in fast, frustrated movements before showing the man once more.
‘Helping?’ It read in big letters.
“Oh, yes- yes he has.” The shopkeeper nodded frantically, a little afraid. “He usually pays the protection fees so I can stay open. I- I don’t exactly make a lot of profit since no one goes to bookstores in Zaun so I’d have to close down if it wasn’t for him.”
The Hellhound slowly lowered the power at that. Their expression unreadable beneath the mask.
“I was supposed to handle this month. He-“ The shopkeeper let out a fond little chuckle, “He’s a good man. He wanted to buy his children something special this month so I told him to save his money. It’s the least I could do after all he’s done for us.”
An anger furrowed the shopkeeper’s brow. His fists clenched as the frustration of helplessness, of uselessness set in once more. “But I can’t even manage to do one fucking thing right. I couldn’t make enough and I have to rely on someone else to help me. Again.”
He opened his mouth to continue, but when he looked up, the Hound was gone.
It took Hellhound less than ten minutes to get back to the Last Drop after that. Their usually longer patrol of the Undercity’s streets was cut short at the new information they’d gathered.
They reached the trash cans in the back alley just outside the bar, and they pushed aside one of the larger ones to reveal the small black duffle bag filled with clothes that had been placed there.
The mask was removed, jacket, and combat boots. Wraps around their chest were undone and replaced with a grey Metallica t shirt and checked black and white pants.
Once everything was tucked away, Vi slipped through the back window that had been left open just a crack for that exact purpose.
The room was bathed in the blue light from the glow-in-the-dark star stickers that were scattered across the ceiling and upper walls. Vi sent a quick glance to the bunk bed in the corner, pausing when she realised Powder had migrated from the top bunk to Vi’s own bed at the bottom.
She was curled around the ratty stuffed bunny with boxing gloves that always lay in Vi’s bed, clutching it for dear life.
Vi hesitated, resolve to go speak to Vander faltering before dissolving completely.
Letting out a sigh, she gently maneuvered Powder to the side, taking off her now wet socks to ball up and throw into the laundry basket before slipping beneath the covers.
Powder instantly turned over to cuddle into her side, previously furrowed features relaxing and Vi was hit with a wave of guilt at the fact that she must’ve had a nightmare and Vi wasn’t there to help her.
She’d discuss what she found out with Vander tomorrow, she decided. Wrapping an arm around Powder and closing her own eyes.
She just had to come up with an excuse for how she found out.