probably the sickest beat ever
gee // girls generation
It was perfect.
Faina stumbled the few feet to the rotating door and collapsed, remaining conscious to let herself flop out into the lobby as soon as she could. A trail of red smeared behind her.
They would call the ambulance from there but for now she was indoors, with no clear shot, and surrounded by witnesses. It was the best she could do with the time and strength she had.
Dammit. She’d went inside a building.
She would get some help now and call an ambulance, no doubt. About 10 minutes before it would arrive.
Mercedes couldn’t complete the task without having to deal with the staff and security inside, which would take much longer than 10 minutes. And she wasn’t well equipped for that.
Maybe, wait for the ambulance, try and finish her off at the hospital? That’ll have to do.
She should have got her on the first shot. She didn’t plan to have missed. She was pretty flexible - adapting and thinking quickly was essential for what she did - but this was inconvenient.
agenteidetic has come to The Grind
Lily stepped up to the cash register, pulling her apron over her head as she did so, her shift having just started, and smiled at the woman standing just on the other side of the counter. “Hi there. What can I get for you today? We have coffee, smoothies, froyo, and muffins. I recommend getting one of our mocaccinos, they’re my favorite.”
"Hi! Could I have a frappuccino and…" she hummed for a second, "Your favourite, hm? How good would you say they are?"
"Sorry, what did you say? Were you talking to me?"
Back against the wall, Josh lets out a slow breath, the program in his hands now the shape of a paper airplane that probably wont get to fly that well. He pushes himself off the wall and decides to send Mercedes a message, atleast if they didn’t see eachother tonight, he could say thankyou and tell her how good she was.
But he only managed to fish his phone out before hearing his name being called out, turning towards the familiar voice, looking a little confused as to how she was over there when he had been waiting for her to come out here. Not that it mattered…
”Hey!” He beamed, walking over quickly — and suddenly not knowing if he should give her a hug or not and he sort of ended up doing this hesitating motion and oh wow embarassing. Uhm, “Congratulations. You were..amazing.” He hopes it sounds as genuine as he means it.
Was that a hug? No? Err, probably not. She was probably going to hug him anyway. Or, probably not.
"Thank you!" She gave a grand smile. Then she went forward and put her arms around her. It could have been the adrenaline from performing still rushing through her, or just that she was glad to see him. Because she really was glad to see him. "I was waiting at the lobby, I thought I’d see you over there but then i didn’t see you over there. But you were here! How long were you standing here for?"
She knew the sound of a sniper rifle, even from a distance out. Direction was harder to tell, with city sounds and tall buildings warping the winds.
Where are you?
She turns, starts to walk. It’s not the pain that registers really, but she knows when the bullet hits her, downward angle, entering at the ribs.
Move. Get in a crowd. Avoid a second shot.
Getting her injured was not the plan. And now, among other people, it would be difficult to get the job done nicely.
Mercedes took the gun with her, descending the building by its fire escape stairs. First, discarding the gun; a couple of buildings away, she left the gun inside a dumpster. Not her gun away, no need to stress about that. Next, find the girl; she went onto the main street, looking towards where she last saw her, trying to find her again. How far could she continue with that injury?
It wasn’t too crowded, but there were far too many people around for her to do anything. Mercedes would follow her from a distance, wait until she could get her aside and deal with her then.
i wanna intimidate you
The performance was over and he said goodbye to the older lady that sat beside him, wishing him luck with a smug smile. He wondered if he should stick around to talk to Mercedes. Perhaps she would go out and celebrate with her pointe shoe friends, or was too tired to chat and just wanted to head home straight away. But he stays, lets the program get wrinkly between his hands as he steps out and finds the stage entrance to see if he can catch her.
And he waits, and waits outside, and sees the audience walk out of the building a few meters away, focuses to stay out of the way of what he assumes are the other dancers and members of the orchestra with their big instrument cases.
Perhaps he’d missed her.
The ballet program has been wrung so tightly in his hands he tries smoothing it out again, ducks his head as more people walk out, but still no Mercedes, and he feels just a little silly standing there. But he’d wait a bit more.
A couple of her peers walked by her - they were maids of honor - praising her for a job well done. She congratulated them too, and gave them best wishes for the next night.
How long had she been standing there? The crowd was thinning, and there was no sign of him. Maybe she could wait just a few more minutes?
A few more dancers passed her, they exchanged praises. One of them stopped to talk to her. “You’re still here? Thought you would’ve been gone by now.”
"Yeah, I’m waiting for a friend," she shrugged her shoulders. "Haven’t seen him by any chance, have you? Lanky, blond-ish…"
"Well, I did see someone waiting by the stage."
By the stage. After saying goodbye, she headed back, further into the building, and behold, standing by the entrance to the stage…