The Lips For It

(FICTION)

It’s happened – he’s done it again. Fucking JJ. He’s relentless.

This time, it happened when he pulled up in his swanky black BMW. He rolled down his window and looked me down, and up, and down again, with a smile. I said hi and leaned forward to tell him my order. I was barely two words in when he turned around and barked at Si, whom I didn’t realise was on duty and sat in the backseat, to get out the car because he wanted to talk to me. Si seemed hesitant for a moment; he remembered what I told him happened last time. Yet he couldn’t think of an excuse to stay in the car. JJ sucked his teeth and Si ignored my eyes as he opened the door and got out. I opened the other door and sat behind JJ.

“Move over so I can see you”, he purred.

I slid to the middle seat, my back firmly pressed against the backrest. He turned around so he could face me. His pupils were two black dots lost in pallid yellow eyeballs.

“You’re very sexy”, he began, “sexy and beautiful…” he continued. I tried to shrug it off. He insisted: “very, very sexy”.

I half-heartedly thanked him.

“What did I say last time? £50 for my mate. He likes you too. I’ll give you £100 for me”.

His face was slowly edging closer to mine. So did his right hand. All I could do was stare at those needle-point specks in his vacant eyes and hold my breath as to not breathe in his. £100. Possibly £150. Fuck.

“That, and a nice sample of both – straight up. The cash would come after, though”, he snarled.

Cold shivers ran down my spine and made the hair on my arms stand. I caught his eyes get drawn to my nipples before I felt them get hard.

“A nice bit of cash, innit? And that’s for starters. If you’re as good at it as you look, I’ll keep on paying you good money”.

My head was spinning. I was trying to formulate an answer that wouldn’t piss him off like last time; the bruise had barely started to fade.

“I’d have to check with my boyfriend”, I finally replied, pointing at Si with my chin. That was a half-lie; Si and I weren’t technically together. But the streets are lonely, so you’re better off having someone to kick it with. Plus, I thought that claiming to be another man’s property would get me off the hook. It didn’t.

“Don’t worry about that”, JJ said with his hand now stroking my knee. He turned his head to glance at Si through the tainted windows: “I’ve cleared it up already”.

My heart sank to my stomach. JJ’s fingers were drawing circles on my lap. I couldn’t take my eyes off Si. He was sat on the sidewalk further down the street, smoking a cigarette, fixedly staring at the ground.

“You could make so much more money than he does as a runner”, JJ carried on, his sweaty palm flat on my thigh. “So much more money. I’d look after you, too”.
“I already have a gig”, I said with an apologetic smile.
He scoffed and slapped my thigh playfully. “What? Begging outside Tesco’s? Nicking makeup at Boots? Grow up, girl, you’re better than that. That’s petty cash – and I’m talking about big money”.

I could feel his fingers gradually tightening around my thigh, securing me into place. I didn’t have it in me to move anyway. £150. And some gear on top. It could be easy money, definitely easier than grafting on the Tube or being a dealer’s runner like Si. He ended up in more debt since he started selling for JJ. For every shot he gets paid, every hour, he’s probably already smoked four out of the pack he’s supposed to shift.
£150. £150 for what, hypothetically, half an hour to an hour? Jesus.

JJ was so ugly. Probably younger than me, too. It was his older brother’s line, and when he went to jail, JJ picked up the torch and kept the business going. He still had the shadow of a prepubescent beard on his chubby cheeks. His face was covered in craters, vestiges of a decade of acne. His piggish eyes were very close to a crooked aquiline nose, and the whole was sheltered under bushy eyebrows. He hadn’t been using for too long – he had only started after his brother got nicked (he wouldn’t have allowed it – he knew better as to never get high off his own supply), so his face wasn’t too marked yet.

JJ crossed over from the driver’s seat and straddled the centre console, facing me, so he could grab my legs with both hands.

“I bet you give good head”.

Si had gotten up and was pacing up and down the street, carefully keeping his gaze away from the car. All I could do was stare at the beating vein on my wrist, the blood pumping frenetically as my heart pounded my chest. £150.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Si crouching by a fence and sprinkling some crack on his pipe. JJ slid his hands around my hips and yanked me closer to him.

“You’ve got the lips for it”.