Before opening the door, I stop and take a deep breath.

Beyond is the apartment I pay rent in. It's only $50 a week for me and it comes out of the trust fund left in the inheritance I got from my mother. A medium fortune I don't have full access to until I'm 21. Until then it can only be used for living space, so I rent a room here in this three bedroom Crime Alley apartment, and an allowance every month.

I only sleep there when I can't afford a motel, or when I want to be somewhere that is my own. Since I'm not actually a prostitute and only posing as one to protect the real ones, the money I get from my target's pockets and the pay for odd jobs I do for certain individuals is my main income. A majority goes into staying away from this place.

Occasionally I pedal drugs, if they're ones I trust myself not to take. Good pay comes out of that. However, I do not carry cocaine, heroine, zealous or boison. Those are my weaknesses.

Which is why staying in this apartment is dangerous. One of the tenants, Michelle, grows boison in her bedroom and deals it. The other couple Sandy and Danny (yes, like in Grease) get cocaine from real dealers and powder it down with baking soda and flour, then sell it to the desperate.

On top of that, they're assholes who try to tempt me into getting high, or get me to work for them for free. They have parties all the time with blaring music and horrible people. Luckily my door has six bolts on it and the only things in my room are a shitty single bed, a bedside table with some clothes in it and a locked chest that sits under the bed full of anything I can't take with me.

That's my life.

As prepared as I can be, I open the door to find Danny, gaunt, thin and unconscious with a needle in his arm, strewn across the shabby sofa. Our living/dining/kitchen is a small space currently trashed with random crap everywhere. I step over plastic cups, drug paraphernalia and broken glass to get to the hallway.

Michelle's door is wide open indicating whatever woman/women left her bed this morning forgot to shut it. Danny and Sandy's is shut but I can hear Sandy snoring inside. She probably locked him out.

At the end of the hallway it splits into a T. You can turn left and head to the bathroom which is currently open, leaking and filthy, or right to my bedroom.

It takes me more than a minute to undo all of the locks on my door, but it's worth it once I get inside and see my room untouched. My blankets are still neatly tucked under the mattress and my bedside table still has a pack of cigarettes, a cluster of hair ties and a book on it.

I take my phone out of my pocket. It's the most expensive thing I own since it's the latest model of its type. I stole it from a target and paid a guy I know to wipe it clean and give me a new card.

As expected, Jason has texted me Roy's address. It's a bit far away but maybe that's for the best. I have a plan for him, to at least get what Jason wants and therefore, what I want.

I sit on the bed and open up the piece of paper he gave me.

Rules:

• No talking about, mentioning or referencing his daughter Lian

• Keep narcotics out of reach

• Do not involve him in your own crusade (killing)

• Be on alert if his ex-wife visits (she's bad for him)

• Try to stay positive to keep him positive

• Don't let him get involved with people he shouldn't 

• If you think he is taking on a job alone, call me, anytime

• If he is badly injured, call me or the number on the back, anytime

• If he needs my help, call me, anytime

• Record the hours you spend with him so that I can pay your hourly rate

"Got it all planned out huh?" I mumble, folding the paper back up.

Once I meet him I should be able to tell how it will go. If he seems like an asshole then it's unlikely I'll end up sleeping with him. If he isn't then maybe it can happen, but it depends on his mental state.

Sex can be healing, sure, but not for everyone.

Until tomorrow night, I have some free time. It's only four in the morning so I'll have a sleep until about ten and then head out to do some shopping. I have saved a nice bit of money, contrary to Jason's belief. I dedicate some of it to clothes and makeup and hair seeing as my appearance contributes to my job.

I can't wear a lot of what I have so casually around his apartment, even if that's pretty much what Jason wants since 'Roy likes girls' and he could do with a 'female presence'. That's all fine, but dress hoodies, thigh highs, short shorts and lingerie aren't the best assets for being domestic.

I'll put on my suburban girl charm and head into the city later today.

◊

◊

Jason pushes the door open, expecting to hear the usual roll of glass bottles. Instead he is faced with a relatively clean apartment. The living room before him is void of rubbish; just the sofa, the television and a coffee table. On the other side of it is the kitchen where Roy is standing with his back to Jason, palms pressed on the counter behind him.

"You cleaned," he says, trying not to sound too surprised. Roy's shoulders jolt before he turns around. Relief floods his face. He must be expecting Jade, Jason thinks.

"You told me to."

He nods, pleased Roy listened and is willing to go along with his plan.

"Signing the papers today?" He asks, heaving the grocery bags up onto the counter.

Roy looks at him dully, "Yeah."

The younger man had never been a fan of his friend's ex-wife. He knows Roy knows she's no good for him. If anything, he'd only be emotional over the divorce signing because Jade is an attachment to Lian.

He can't be sure; these days he has trouble reading him.

"Want me to stay?" Jason asks as he puts away the groceries away. At first this oddly domestically-styled friendship had been strange, but once he got over the social pretences, it came down to helping Roy survive. If he didn't put food in the cupboards, Roy didn't eat.

"I guess."

Still closed off.

"When is your friend coming?"

"I'll bring her here tonight, that okay? You could probably do with some cheering up." Jason wiggles his eyebrows.

It brings a hint of a smile to Roy's face, "Don't think I'm up for...that kind of thing, anymore."

Even after Jade, Roy had relationships with Hawkgirl and Starfire. Like Jason told Ever, Roy really likes girls. Not that he wants to think about his friend's sex life, but again, if Jason had to guess, his guilt and grief over Lian is holding him back.

"Tell me about her again?" He asks, looking away bashfully. His hair curtains his unshaven face.

Jason snorts, "She was born in Gotham, then ended up moving to Star. She stayed there until she was sixteen and then came back here. She'll be twenty soon- Her birthday is actually on Valentine's day. She's on her own personal crusade to rid the world of scum by luring them into bed and making their deaths look like natural causes."

"And she's moving in here?"

"Yes," Jason confirms, "She's pretty and young and while she might be tough, I'm worried about her, so I want her to live here. I'm also worried about you. I think she'd be good for you."

Roy looks at him doubtfully.

"This feels like an arranged marriage," he mutters, turning around to continue washing the dishes- the last dirty things in the apartment.

"Wrong book," Jason says.

"What?"

"Nothing."

◊

◊

It's almost disheartening, the difference between the city centre and crime alley. 

Those with money mix with paupers and their difference is clear, but being Gotham it is not an unusual sight. Looking like you're from crime alley only becomes a problem when shopping. Security guards follow you, store clerks ignore you and customers steer clear.

It's why every time I come here I wear the same thing. A plaid skater skirt, stockings and a soft pink knit. I accessorise with jewelled sunglasses, some big earrings, light makeup instead of heavy and dramatic, fake gold bangles and pink wedged shoes.

I look above middle class with just a few outfit changes and shifts in demeanour.

When I walk into urban outfitters the clerk greets me excitedly. I give a short smile back before heading over to the tops section. I'll make it three new outfits here, and I'll get three somewhere else. That will be a nice boost to my wardrobe seeing as I only own three actual outfits.

Unable to immediately stray from dark colours, the first thing on my arm is a black cropped hoodie. Next is a black off the shoulder crop with sleeves attached at the elbow, then an Adidas long-sleeve shirt with the shoulders cut out. 

As I head over to pants, the woman I pass turns around and speaks.

"Hey there, Pretty."

I recognise the voice immediately, mostly because of the nickname. As I don't tell the prostitutes my real name, they make their own for me. Pretty is one of them, used by-

"Alice?"

Dressed neatly with a shop key on a lanyard around her neck, I find the prostitute who used to work the corner of the abandoned chemist standing before me clean and well. Her brown hair is shiny, tied back in a low bun. Her face is much like mine- makeup only light. She's smiling like I have never seen her do before.

"You and I clean up pretty good, huh?" She grins, nudging me. 

I stare at the lanyard, "You work here now?"

"Yup! And I go by Alison now. Ever since Carter died of that overdose I've been free as a bird. I got out off the streets, moved to the other side of the city and got a job here."

Good. Carter Anderson, a pimp, was my target partially for the treatment of the women who worked for him. But it was mostly because he is one of the few pimps who deal in the underaged.

"McKenna moved to Metropolis, Tina found her son in some orphanage and now she's working to adopt him, Sadie is going to community college. She met a guy who treats her right!"

I rarely get to hear what happens to the women I free. Some of them stay in this line of work, but they get to choose their own clients and prices, with no cut going to a pimp.

I nearly draw my knife when Alice- Alison jumps on me with a hug.

She whispers, "I know you helped. Thank you." 

It's common knowledge that I don't talk a lot, or like being touchy feely, so she doesn't have any issue when I don't respond. When she draws back she's smiling, before taking my hand and pulling me towards the pants.

"This is you, right?" She asks, pulling a pair of leather skinny jeans from a nearby rack. I nod silently. She then proceeds to lead me around the shop, adding a pair of shorts, a skirt and a red faux leather aviator jacket.

Even though I never stayed near them for long, or told them my name, the girls of crime alley still treated me with tremendous care like I was one of them. The camaraderie among those women could rival that of much more mainstream groups.

"What about this?" She asks excitedly, pulling a pretty maroon minidress out of nowhere. It has spaghetti straps with a lace up front. Even though I had plans to go somewhere else for my other outfits, I just nod. She throws it and a cream trucker jacket on top. Her last choice isn't anything I'd ever choose for myself; an off the shoulder black romper with white flowers on it.

I end up voluntarily grabbing some over-sized graphic tees for sleep. A pair of flats and sneakers later and I'm standing at the counter as she scans everything. It's a whirlwind, but I find I don't mind if I can get out of here and head back to a black where I can be myself.

"That'll be an even hundred," she whispers with a sneaky grin.

I look at her dully, "Alison."

"Don't worry! I've done it for the other girls lots of times," she winks. I guess she's only hurting herself. After paying for about 20% of what I actually had, I help her bag everything up.

"Are you leaving town with all this?" She asks.

I shake my head, "Moving."

"Away from Danny and Sandy? Good for you!"

I suppose that's true. Although by the sounds of it Roy is just as addicted.

Before she hands over my receipt, she takes a pen from her pocket and writes on it.

"There's my number! If you ever need anything, call me, okay?" Her joking tone remains, but her eyes are dead serious. It's interesting how people feel the need to pay me back. It's not like my intent was to help them specifically.

Instead of arguing that, "Thanks."

I leave the store with three bags and head to Sephora, this time with a real smile.