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Chandra squinted into the sunlight streaming through her blinds.

She didn't want to be sick today.� She didn't want to be sick anyday,
but today especially.� Not today.� It was a sunny day.� She was a young
girl. She still had her looks.� Not today.� Not sick today.

Today she wanted to pull her hair back, scrub her face, and go looking
for boys.� Any boy would do.

She wanted to flash them a look with devil-may care eyes, restless blue
jewels that they were, and drive all the boys mad with a sashay of the
hips and a carefully placed laugh.

She wanted to wear tight jeans and bend over.� She wanted to flip her
hair just so.� And in the sunlight, her long brown hair would be dazzling.�
They wouldn't know what to do with themselves.

Not today.� She would not be sick today.� Not on a day like this.

She rose out of her hospital bed and turned off the infusion pumping
away at her arm.� She pulled the IV out quickly.� It was a sharp pain, but she
stifled it.� No one needed to know.

Chandra was unsteady on her feet for a moment, her pale skin shot
white, until she caught herself.�

She steadied herself with a single thought:� NOT TODAY.

Not today.� Today she was a young girl.� A young good looking girl, if
she dared think so herself, and she would not waste it in another hospital
bed.

She went into the bathroom and hurredly washed her face.

Chandra rummaged in the closet and found her clothes.� Not exactly form
fitting.� They were casual things, sweatpants and a non-descript
sweatshirt.
In her sweatshirt pocket she found her deliverance:� stowed inside a
pink hello-kitty wallet she adored she kept a credit card.� And her credit
was GOOD.

Throwing on a jacket, she carefully stole out of the hospital.� On the
sidewalk, she hailed the first cab she saw.

"NorthPointe Mall, please."

One uneventful cab ride later, (the man talked on and on about
politics...didn't he know better?), Chandra hopped out at a local
clothing store.� Everything seemed to be working to plan.� As much as it
could, anyway.

Once in the store, Chandra tried on an outfit of a blood red turtleneck
sweater and jeans that fit just right.

She turned and admired herself in the mirror.� Still thin as ever.� But
then, she hadn't had the desire to eat in a long while.

She meandered throught the knick-knacks until she found a brown
hairclip that matched her hair.�

The mall seemed full of hustle and bustle.� Full of life!� Even the
plants seemed to thrive, produce their own aura of energy.� As if she could
taste the oxygen being thrown off of them.� She never noticed before.�
Everything seemed so vibrant.

Wandering through the cosmetics at another department store, Chandra
came across the perfect matching shade of red lipstick and nail-polish.�
What was the odds of that ever happening?� An old boyfriend called them
'slut-red'. What ever happened to that asshole?

Not wasting any more thought on that, she turned to go to a register.�
A cosmetics salesclerk stopped her with a sprtiz of perfume.

"Would you like a make over?� You have the prettiest eyes!"

Chandra reached into her back pocket, got out her pink hello-kitty
wallet, pulled out her credit card and slapped it down on the counter.

"Why yes.� Yes I would."� she said.

An hour, a cab ride, and one hundred and fifty dollars later (because
she just absolutely MUST have the latest skin moisturizer, and well, her
eyes were "simply to DIE for" and needed this new dark eyeshadow.� And
liner. And...),� Chandra hopped out downtown.� Now, where did the boys hang
out these days?

She walked along the sidewalk towards the metro-skate park.� Boys still
skated, didn't they?� Things hadn't changed all that much since her
ordeal beagan, did they?� It all seemed like so long ago.

Chandra approached the park with a definite strut.� She wanted to look
at the fountains, throw in a coin, make a wish.� She needed her wish to
come true.

Long haired boys with baggy pants clumsily did tricks with their
skateboard that made a lot of noise.� The spoke with loud immature bravado at each
other, and respectfully stopped when Chandra walked by to throw her
coin in the fountain.�� Too young.� It wasn't what she needed.

As she stopped at the fountain and made her wish, the boys skated by.�
One emitted a low whistle at her.� She turned and locked eyes with him for
a moment, and he tumbled from his board.� She giggled and walked away.�

A few blocks down the road, two foreign men approached her, speaking in
rapid-fire french.

"No parlez-vous francais!" she said.

"Chere!� Chere!� MA chere!" another said, blowing a kiss at her.

"No parlez-vous francais!" she pleaded.

Chandra looked over her shoulder and shot him a bright glance, blowing
a kiss back.� He clutched it to his heart and stumbled down the sidewalk.

And that was nice, too, but still, not what she was looking for...

She saw a dark nook of a bar.� 'The Get Me High Lounge' the sign read.�
Why not.

Chandra looked around the place.� Small.� Dank.��There wasn't a whole lot of people in the place.� In fact, only a few.�
But she wanted food.� Real food.� Something she could sink her teeth into,
not the crappy hospital food.� No hospital food.� Not today.� Today, she
wanted a cheesburger.� And....FRIES.� So bad, yet so decadently good when green jello is all you've got.

She sat at the bar and looked down.� At the end of the bar, sitting
alone was a man, youthful looking of indeterminate age.� Muscular, brown
hair, blue eyes.� Blue polyester shirt and jeans.� Black shoes.� Bedroom blue
eyes.� Good looking.� Nice body.� Centered, he seemed an isle of calm
unto himself.� He� also seemed to be aware of her and not to notice at the
same time.� Intriguing.�

And he looked like an smug, arrogant prick.� The kind of guy that was
good looking, and knew it.� The kind of guy that women threw themselves
after.
This would do just nicely...

Chandra sat down next to him and ordered a cheesburger and french
fries.� He quietly drank his beer and smoked a ciggarrette, smoothly and calmly
flicking ashes into the tray, his eyes had a distant, yet warm�quality to them.�
Like he was staring at the bottles in front of him behind the bar and not
seeing them.� Chandra sat up straight, flicked her hair over her shoulder and
waited.

"So,"� the stranger began in a slow, deep clear voice, "I have a very
important question to ask you."

Chandra looked over at him and looked into his eyes, and nearly melted.

"What's that?" she said, confidently.

"Are you having a good day?"� he asked with a smirk.

"I'm having a BEAUTIFUL day."� she said with verve.

"I bet you are."� he replied quietly with a smirk, exhaling a cloud of
smoke and tapping out the ash from his ciggarette.

"What about you?"� she shot back, "Are you having a good day?"

"Sure." he replied with an unnerving calm.� "What are you up to?"

"Shopping." she said, which was something of the truth, "What about
you? Just sitting in a bar all day?"

"Pretty much." he said flatly, and then turned to regard her for a
minute, as if he'd just noticed that she was there.�

Chandra shook her head and regarded him for a second.�Shot glasses littered around him. And je drank his
drink with vengance and anger.� Not like he was trying to get drunk, but like
he was trying desperately to pound nails into his coffin.� Who uses mixed drinks for a chaser?� And where did
the arrogance come from?�

"Lets do shots.� Bartender!"� he called to the barkeep.� "Two shots of
jack!"

Chandra looked him in the eye.� "I'm not doing that."� she said.

He chuckled faintly to himself and threw one back without expression.�
He slid the other over towards her.

"My name is Mark." he said, "What's yours?"

She thought about the shot for a second, but only a second.�

"Chandra."� she said, smiling at him and leaning on the bar.� He grabbed the shot and threw that one down as well.

"Thirsty?"� she asked him.

"You have no idea."

The barkeep sidled up and Chandra ordered a cheesburger and fries.

"Brave soul, aren't you." Mark commented.

"Well, its a judgement call at this point.� You seem to be allright, and I bet you eat here all the time."� she said smartly.

"That's true."� he replied.

"And I look at the help, and if they're not too sketch, then I can eat."

"Right on."� he said.� He tapped a shot glass on the bar, and the bartender filled it up.� Mark threw it back and wiped his lip savagely.

"Wanna dance?" he asked, looking in her eyes.

"There's no music," she said, looking around the empty bar.

"I'll hum." he replied.

"What makes you think I want to dance with you?"� she said, casually.

"All girls want to dance with me."� he said, getting off his barstool with a hop.

"A little full of yourself, aren't you?"� Chandra needled him.

"Not really."� Mark sighed over his shoulder.�

Mark walked over to the jukebox and popped in a few quarters.��The opening bars of "Superbad" by James Brown floated through the bar.� He approached Chandra and grabbed her hand.

"C'mon.� You can't say no to James Brown. He's the godfather of soul."� Mark deadpanned.

"No, I can't say no to the Godfather of Soul, but, I CAN say no to you." she replied.

Mark dropped his head, and spoke in a tone of sincerity.

"Really?"

He looked cute as a puppy.� Dammit, he was right.�

"Ok.� Just one, until my food arrives."�

'Oh my god' Chandra thought, 'WHAT have I gotten myself into?'

Mark stepped out on the floor.� Mark mooved with grace, sublime and subtle, he swayed his hips and stayed contained.� It was pleasing to watch.� He looked like he'd probably be good in bed.�

Chandra stepped out with him, gently swaying, erotic shifting her hips to the beat, locking eyes with Mark.� The energy and connection was palpable.� She lifted her arms and spun around, letting him see her.� Mark stepped forward, and they shimmied together, in step, in unison.� Fred Astaire and Ginger Rodgers never did so well without choreography.

The song ended and 'I Put A Spell On You' by Ray Charles wafted through the bar.� Laughing, Chandra fell into Marks arms.� They locked eyes again.� She felt safe.

"Ever dance cheek to cheek with a stranger?"� Mark asked her.

"No.� And I don't think I want to.� Stop."� She protested lamely.

He pulled her close and put his cheek to hers, chuckling.� He had stubble, maybe a day old.� It was rough, prickly.� It was a man.

"You know you want to."� he said.

She paused and swayed with him.

"Maybe."� She said, and rubbed his back.� Giving in, she rested her head comfortably on his chest.� The connection between them was there.� And Lord, it felt good to have her arms around a boy after all she'd been through.� All the pain.� The needles.� The medicine that made her vomit.� Feeling like shit every day.� Every day brought a new low.� God, she needed this.� This heat.

He carressed her back, then let his hands rest around her hips.� Having Chandra tight to his body aroused him, and Chandra noticed.

The song peaked, and he spun her out.� Hands locked, she rolled out like a whip, and as the creshendo passed, they locked eyes.� She felt vibrant.� Beautiful.� ALIVE.

Chandra looked into Mark's eyes, and inside she saw the passion and tumult there.� She'd gotten to him.� She really had.� Mark was beside himself for her.� It felt good to be lusted after.� Desired.� Wanted.� It was exactly she wanted.� What she needed.� She'd had enough of those pitiful looks from the doctors and nurses and they shuffled in and out.� Just another stop on the assembly line.� Nobody gave a fuck.

Chandra felt something drip from her nose.� How embarassing!� Here in the most picturesque of moments she had a runny nose!

She looked down on the floor, hoping he didn't notice.� On the floor were spots of red.�

Chandra wiped the back of her hand on her nose and looked at it.� It came away covered in blood.� Bright red blood.� She looked at Mark, horror stricken.� Darkness swirled in.� He stepped forward and caught her, collapsing to the floor with her, pulling a phone out of his pocket.�� Blood everywhere.

One day....one day...all I wanted was one day....

From what seemed a place far away, she heard Marks deep voice, booming loudly wherever it was at, a strain of panic in his timbre, bellow, "SEND AN AMBULANCE NOW!� I NEED A FUCKING AMBULANCE!"

And then no more.

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