The itch

The same old guy with a sort of punk rock attitude procured her the drugs.

So now she was in the village, sitting impatiently at the counter of a too loud, too filled, too dark bar.
-"Tequila anejo, please" said at the girl that was secretly glancing at her from the other side of the counter.

The amberish liquid slipped into her throat together with a sense of contentment.
Some old hit from the 70s was now playing, one of those drug addicts, rock metal singers and bikers must have requested it when the line to the jukebox was long and no one coudl have thought he was the criminal for choosing such a pussy's song. What a shame to be one of those who listens to disco songs, just like listening to Britney Spears right now seems to be a crime.
What would the poeple think if they knew that "oops i did it again" had been for months my favorite song? The same thing was thinking that secret queer man who asked for the 70s Diana Ross song, no one has to know he's gay. Doesn't he remember he's in the village?

Lily rotated her black eyes and still wasn't seeing what she was expecting, no girls, no friends and she was starting to feel itchy.
-"Another please" said in the direction of the bartender. She thought she was cute, and she wondered what she was doing there, she could have been easily a model but in the end everyone has to eat, beauty or not. What was her name?

She started wondering if she really wanted to see the fairy again, well she wasn't that fairy looking, what she saw was more like a granny disguised to please the grandchildren.

The itching became more intense all of a sudden and her right hand, which was comfortably sweating on her lap, moved suddenly to placate the pain. She hit the counter, screamed and called the attention of every single eye in the room.

-"Great" she exclaimed in a cynical tone bringing her hand on the top of the counter. The bartender was looking at her, her eyes hidden behind a thick layer of eyeliner and long brown hair.
-"I'll get you some ice" and she disappeared behind the fog of a smoker's cigarette sitting just beside Lily and observing her just like everyone else.

She put 20 dollars near her shot glasses and walked out.