Amy

Starting my new job at a private club rooftop, I met... Amber, a soft-spoken girl with a faint French accent, and seashells in her long frolocks. The shisha bar rooftop housed only the rich and famous, many of which were just a bunch of Middle Eastern men.

Blueberry, spiced apple, and cinnamon mist fragranced the rooftop interiors because of the shisha.

'You haven't got any tips yet?!' Amber laughed, wiping the bar table.

'No', I shook my head, 'how can I start?'

'It's so easy! Just smile and look pretty', she beamed, 'watch'. By the swimming pool, Amber approached a huddled group of men holding a silver tray, the receipt. A mesmerising smile, a short skirt and gothic clothing seemed all it took to capture their gloating eyes, and money. 'You see? An easy one hundred dollars, right?'

'Okay', I replied, '...or, you know, we could just steal their wallets?'

'Amy! Vous sérieux?' Amber whined in French, 'besides, you're so beautiful! Never doubt in your abilities'. I rolled my eyes, 'oh – look who it is...' Amber dramatically slowed down her table wiping to point out a famous politician.

With a glass of red wine to her red lips, the politician sat at balcony edge, close to the night cityscape view, Black hair framing her pale bright face.

'Mon dieu! I want a picture next to her', Amber squealed, over excited, 'can you take it?'

'What's so special about her?' I moaned.

'She founded a charity that makes women's enhancement drugs more accessible to us for wellbeing, birth control, cures to woman disabilities or illness and so on'.

'So... she makes illegal drugs... legal?' I summarised.

'Well when you put it that way – gees', Amber thought I sounded morbid, 'she's doing a good thing'.

What I saw next surprised me.

Red lips parting in a big smile, the politician was greeted by a man... Sergio. They proceeded to have an informal talk, unnaturally close. Often, he made her laugh.

All of a sudden, I was blocked by a tall guy, dark-skinned with short afro twists. Amber's boyfriend. He came to remind me that they were going to a costume house party, which I was invited to.

Amber went as Harley Quinn, her boyfriend as Superman, and I... as an ordinary person in a hoodie.

'Why didn't you choose a character?' Amber protested, waving her baseball bat in the air, annoyed at me, 'I knew I should've chosen Cat Woman for you'. I rolled my eyes.

'Even if you did, I wouldn't have worn it anyway', I mumbled below my breath.

Of course, the occasion was special to her; we were celebrating her boyfriend's success in landing a big contract as an actor. Music, boys, and wild dancing... everything I found boring.

As I expected, the drinks were spiked too much. About an hour into it, the party vomiters emerged.

Another thing that emerged, was that "purple stuff" drug. When an ounce of it was laid out secretly in backroom tables, everyone went crazy over it.

In facts, party contests were conducted by the ringleader, Amber's boyfriend. To show off, he had someone breathe fire from a lighter, then he manipulated the direction of the flames with his hands.

A handful of his close friends used the drug to play games and perform tricks. Most of the time the boys just wrestled or carried a bunch of girls on their arms to test their super-strength.

To them it was fun and games, but that same drug was a beta version of what I was injected with at birth. I knew for sure it came with side-effects.

'Amy!' Amber leaped over to me very drunk, 'I saved you some'. When I saw the stuff in her hands, I wasn't happy.

'Don't touch that!' I raged, slapping the powdered drug out of her hands.

'What the hell is wrong with you?!' she fired back. I shoved her aside. She clung tightly to her baseball bat.

'Amber, listen to me. Everyone I've seen use that stupid drug ended up in the hospital or dead in a week. I'm saving your life'. Amber flinched, then stood up straight, 'now you might wanna consider saving his', I pointed to her Superman.

Amber moved hesitantly towards her boyfriend, wobbling every step. Two minutes into their conversation, Amber started shouting, and they both looked enraged. A minute later, Amber's boyfriend pushed her, his unnatural strength causing her to fly across the room. She slammed backwards into a coffee table full of drinks.

Shouting slurs, Amber's unstable boyfriend approached her. Before he could do something stupid, I walked speedily towards him, grabbing Amber's baseball bat from the ground. Then I pointed the bat to his chest, hindering him. The music stopped.

'It's you, punk-ass white girl', he grumbled, 'filling Amber's head with lies about me!'

'All I said is that it wasn't a good idea –'

'Back off, bitch!' he snatched the bat from my hand and dashed it away. Before his beastly palms could grab me, I teleported and tripped him up from behind. He fell forward onto his stomach. Loudly, his friends laughed at him.

'Hey, you alright?' I attended to Amber, sitting her upright. In pain and anger, her face was screwed. 'Alright – we're leaving'.

'Woah, Amy. I didn't know you could do that', Amber groaned, lying down at the back of my car, 'take me back, I need to speak to him'.

'No, you need to go home', I retorted.

'So you took the drug all along – then told me not to take it –'

'No, I didn't'.

'Then how could you do that?' Amber's curiosity at my powers was unwavering.

'It's... a long story. I'll explain later', I replied. After we arrived, I placed her carefully on the couch while she wobbled, intoxicated.

'You're insane', she laughed and cried at the same time, 'you know that right? Like literally out of this world! Are you... an X-men?' In cased she threw up, I tried to keep her upright, 'because the guys couldn't do what you did'.

'Amber, don't do anything stupid from now', I warned, 'and get some rest'.

'But you didn't answer my question. You're acting like my mom'.

'Maybe because I care', I snapped.

'Well – can you stay?'

'Erm...' I hesitated. Amber's helpless eyes glistened in the nightlights; half-red half-blue locks wildly thrown around as she moved. 'Sorry. I can't'. Got to babysit'.

'Babysit? Now?'

'Yeah'. My wimpy excuse only hid that I was nervous... because I liked Amber more than I needed to. When she giggled, I was often thrown off by her movie-star lips, and helpless behaviour.

Tired and fatigued, I flopped myself into my car, meditating for a moment... and in that moment, a sack was thrown over my face.

I awoke just to discover that I was kidnapped into a lavish bedroom. Chained to the bars of the king-sized bed, I was seated upright, my back leaning on the furry pillows.

'Do you like them?' a familiar voice came from beside me, 'they're cuffs specifically designed to prevent your powers'.

'Britney?!'

'Hello Amy', she retorted, with distain in her voice. Violently, I pulled against the cuffs. She was right. I was powerless. 'Don't bother trying'.

'Britney, let me go'.

'I will', she leaned over and whispered in my ear, 'but it's time to acknowledge you've been a really... bad... girl'.

Reaching the peak of sizzling rage, I breathed, trying not to lose my shit.

'I learn from the best', calmly responding, I sat up.

'Oh don't project your guilt on me. You've always been a thief – and a crook'. Condescending mean girl shit never got old with Britney.

'What's your problem? Why am I chained to your bed?!' Surely, we were too old for this. 'Shouldn't you be at home ironing something for your bourgeoise husband? Being the good wife?'

'Don't tell me what I should be doing', she retaliated.

'Are you unhappy already?'

'Shut up!' she growled, 'let's cut the crap. I know where you got your powers from. It's the drug, isn't it? You went crazy with it waaay before everyone else did'.

'What –'

'And you crashed my engagement party to start your business dealings here! Right?!'

'Wrong!'

'My dad and his business friends came to speak to you. You had super-human abilities since high school. If I'm wrong –'

'You are!'

'How do you explain all of that?!' she bellowed, as we shouted over each other. Britney was oblivious that a big chunk of her family wealth came from the purple stuff. Debt paid, rent paid, luxuries exploited... all because of it. 'You're just obsessed with me', Britney babbled on, 'that's it'.

'Right. That's why I'm chained to your bed!' gradually, I raised my voice. Falling silent, Britney took a seat on her bed beside me, eyeing me intensely. But instead of anger, she looked sad.

Britney knew very well how much I used to be obsessed with her when we were school kids. It only felt like yesterday. With her blondness, her make-up, her figure, her socialite qualities, obsessed.

Even worse... I used to be her leashed puppy, faithfully treading in her footsteps.

Though in contrast, I was the shortest, weirdest, and most impressionable kid, I just about met the friendship group standards.

When did it start? The day I accepted Britney's two-hundred-dollars in exchange for my opioid pills. No longer was I the badge girl. Often, I grew out my hair, curled it, spoke like a valley girl... all to make her happy.

For private house parties she dressed me like a doll, and at school I was her baggage holder. As a poor hustler thief coming from nothing, I was okay with it, until the unforgettable day things took a twist for the worst...

A house party. Loud music. Hyperactive thirteen and fourteen-year-olds crammed together, and I was one of them. Overexcited at everything, I feared missing out on any high.

Hazy late hours into the party, Britney, and her then boyfriend Brody invited me into a room. Lights off. Secretly drugged, I couldn't coherently communicate how I felt.

But I was aware.

All at once, I remembered Britney's lips being so soft when she kissed me, and Brody's palms unzipping my dress, then caressing my belly. At first it was a shock, but then I loosened up, and let it happen. Helpless, but aware. When she told me to kiss Brody, I did it.

When she told me to take it a step further... I did that too. Anything she wanted. But hours after Britney fell asleep, Brody didn't want to stop, and instead of appearing weak and helpless, I was having fun.

Jaded because we took it too far, Britney threw me out the room naked. In front of a group of sexually curious middle school kids my age, this quickly became a nightmare.

Somehow, the revolving rumours always pointed to Britney being the victimised angel, and me being the kinky lesbian villain.

At this point my only dream was to change school, but even I couldn't do that; I had to follow suit with my alias as the false daughter of my foster mafia parents.

So, I cut my hair, dressed a bit differently, and tried as much as possible to distance myself. While the path I took became darker, I became a better thief.

But I had always been a thief... not a drug dealer.

'Amy...' Britney nudged my chin up with her finger, 'you know if it's money you need, or a place to stay, all you need to do is ask'. Her fingers travelled onto my face, then she twiddled my hair.

'I'm good thanks', I twisted my face left, trying to shake off her fingers. Britney missed this, petting me like her doll. She missed exerting her power, controlling me, dressing me.

'Are you sure? Because this drug business is gonna get you in serious trouble, and not like the trouble you were in before –'

'I told you before, I don't deal with drugs!' I reinforced.

'Your powers give you away –'

'Why do you suddenly care about me?' I growled, yanking my cuffs again.

'Why do you think I called the police on you every time you started doing bad things again? Yes, we've feuded in the past, but that doesn't mean I want to see you hurt'.

'So this is how you show your care? By abducting me in the middle of the night and chaining me to your bed?!'Britney couldn't formulate an answer for me. Instead, she pointed her face down and fidgeted with my fingers.

'Do you hate me, Amy?' she whimpered, lifting her head up in tears. I didn't respond. Britney felt the effects of all her school friends suddenly hating her; she could not comprehend it and should've saw it coming.

'Britney', I sighed impatiently.

'You do, don't you?' she sniffled, continuing to victimise herself, 'I know I was a mean bitch in the past. If you hate me, I'll understand, but... I wish you hadn't gone rogue'.

Britney faithfully preserved the old version of me in her mind, the nice and kind Amy. When she stroked my skin expecting me to react helpless, and obsessed just the way I used to act, she was dissatisfied.

'I'm not you're doll', I whispered defiantly.

'Yeah – of course not', she reiterated, 'I just thought, maybe we could... just be friends?' For a few seconds I just eyed Britney. Friends? Something was irreparably wrong.

'Okay'. When I agreed, she wiped her tears and smiled, feeling uplifted.

'Okay', she giggled like a little girl.

'Great. So. Now we're friends, I need you to do something for me'.

'Oh – yes! I'll let you go, of course!'

'Yes! But I need you to do something else for me...'