It Kinda Smells Like Teen Spirit, Doesn't It?

That awkward silence... waiting for the elevator to crawl to the twelfth floor—‘cause no way in hell were we taking the stairs.
We looked like two overdosed hobos’ corpses, and while the empty hallway was fucking perfect before, now it was packed with nosy guests, making it even better.

“Wanna talk about something? Anything… this’ll be boring as shit if we’re quiet,” I said, with eyes almost attached to the floor numbers lighting up, like that’d make the damn thing move faster.

“Uhm…” Aya scratched her hair, thinking, as she stepped into the elevator. Oddly, she let an old lady go first. Who knew she had manners? “Aah… uhm…”

“Alright, don’t force it,” I said, leaning against the wall. “Hey, lady, see something you like?” I asked, leaning toward the old hag staring us down.

“Want me to blow you off?” Aya asked, propping an arm on the wall like some twisted rom-com confession.

“Aya…” I muttered, nodding toward the old lady.

“Pfft, who cares? She’s like two hundred years old, her tongue’s probably is already worn flat,” Aya said.

I sighed, slumping back against the wall. “Pass…”

“Kidding… unless you didn’t want it to be a joke, then it wasn’t,” she said, smirking.

“What the fuck are you trying to pull, you psycho?”

“Just curious.”

“‘About what?”

“Wanna see what gives first, if your stitches or your load,” she said, grinning.

“Fucking insane bitch…” I muttered, rubbing my face.

“Come oooon, lighten up… or you want the old lady to do it? Heard it’s weird with no teeth.” As Aya spoke, the old lady mashed the button for a floor she definitely wasn’t getting off at. “Yo, granny, don’t act shocked… like you got to that age a virgin.”

“I’m this close to smacking you, Aya. Shut the fuck up,” I said.

“Rather you spank me… or you into kinky shit? What, candle wax play?” she said.

“Okay... adding another sex toy to the list,” I muttered.

“Don’t gimme that—I’m into real shit, you know, actual people, living people...preferably,” she said.

“Did you need to clarify that last bit?”

“Probably not, but everything gets twisted these days…” She shrugged. “Ugh… fuck, you got boring…” she huffed.

“Swear, if I still had my gun, I’d blow my brains out,” I said.

“Pfft… what, are you Kurt Cobain now?” she asked.

“That was too far.”

“Yeah, now you mention it, maybe. Scratch the name, you know, sensitive audience and all that crap,” she said.

The button didn’t work. The old lady endured our whole shitshow, and trust me, if she could’ve pried the doors open, she would’ve.
The second they slid apart on the ground floor, she bolted like death was chasing her.
Didn’t know old folks could move that fast—thought they just broke hips and called it a day.
Guess it’s their baptism by fire or some shit.
Whatever, doesn’t matter.

“That granny’s probably praying for dementia now… or we turned her on?” Aya said, strutting out of the elevator like she was in a damn dance routine.

“Don’t want that mental image,” I said, keeping her pace.

“I can wipe it out for you,” she teased.

“Nope.”

“Come on… you’re denying your girlfriend the chance to please you…”

“Since when the fuck are you my girlfriend?” I asked.

“Didn’t we have a deal back at the bar? Or was that just my other half?” she said, smirking.

God, I wanted to slug her and bring the timid one back.
But, folks, priorities. So I walked as straight as I could—considering I was fucked six ways to Sunday—until we reached the car.

“I’m driving!” Aya yelled, yanking the door handle.

“In your fucking dreams,” I said, swatting her hand and sliding into the driver’s seat.

“In my dreams, you’re tied to a bed… maybe gagged, maybe not…” she said, climbing over me to the passenger seat.

“You gonna keep this up the whole time?” I asked, sticking the key in.

“Yup.”

Turned it once—on the second, a weird hiss.

“Fuck my goddamn mother…” I muttered, letting my head drop onto the steering wheel.

Smoke poured from the hood. Yeah, I fucked the car.
Everything’s gotta go this wrong?
Just one good break, for fuck’s sake.

Aya laughed, kicking her feet up on the dash. “You properly fucked it up, huh? That’s what you get for screwing with the ignition while Cher was banging bar dudes.”

“Cher didn’t bang any bar dudes,” I said, barely stopping myself from ripping the wheel off and yeeting it at the next passerby.

“Yeah, sure… still doesn’t change you fucked the car,” she said, crossing her arms behind her head, leaning back. “Now what?”

“Where’s Watermelon Guy’s jacket?” I asked.

“Think it’s in the room. Why?”

“Left my phone in it.”

“And?”

“It’s our only cash source, you braindead fuck. Everything’s on there,” I said.

“No credit card or something? Fuck, Hiro,” she said.

“Do I look like I deal in legal money?” I asked.

“Tax evasion!” she yelled, sticking her head out the window. “Cops!”

“Shut the fuck up, goddamn it! You’re pissing me off,” I said, lunging to cover her mouth.

“Oh… Hiro… here and now?” she moaned softly. “In front of everyone? You absolute beast…”

“I’m done with this shit,” I said, kicking the car door open.

“Just hit a bank, easy… I’m not just sexy as hell, I'm filthy fucking rich, remember?” she shouted from the car as I walked off to nowhere.

“Ain’t walking aimlessly to find a damn bank, you schizo freak…” I said, approaching another car and smashing the window with my elbow.
Don’t try this at home—hurts like hell and probably won’t work outside this mess.

So there I was, in a stolen car—nothing new—trying to hotwire it.
Way harder than TV makes it look like.

“Hey, chill out,” Aya said, climbing through the broken window when she could’ve used the door. “I'm just messing with you…”

“That’s exactly why I’m pissed,” I muttered, fumbling with the damn wires for a spark. “No clue why you’re acting like this.”

“Eh… it’s just me,” she said, grabbing my hands, twisting them slightly—one spark, and the engine popped to life. “Plus… if I don’t, you’ll spiral into madness obsessing over finding Cher.”

“Thanks… I guess,” I said.

“Thank my pretty tits, be honest,” she said, pointing me with her finger.

“Fuck off.”

“Thank me, damn it!” Aya yelled at me while shaking me by the collar.

“Alright, alright, dammit… thanks. Happy?” 

“Fuck yeah!” she said, clapping once, hard. “My first good deed...how thrilling.”