The street was dark and dreary, the old lights barely illuminating the road in spotty infrequency where they still functioned. Quinn remembered when the gloomy, bumpy roads at night used to scare her when she first started driving in high school, but now it just seemed like a good metaphor of her dismal life. It was amazing how quick life could go from its simple innocence to depressingly defeating.
After college fell through, she found herself working late shifts at the corner store just to pay rent. On top of that, her bills accumulated faster than her earnings, so month by month the credit cards filled ever more. Each passing day dragged her a little more down the road to disaster, and it frustrated her that there was little she could do to get out from under the teasingly slow collapse.
After arriving home, Quinn forced herself to stay on her feet. If she was to get ready in time, she could not afford to fall into the eager embrace of her raggedy old couch. If she did, it would never release her. With little concern for where they landed, she stripped off her unflattering work clothes. It had been awhile since she cared much for her appearance. Sure, she showered regularly and kept herself clean and neat, but the corner store paycheck left nothing for new clothes, makeup, or little extras. What little she had was free samples and old bits she saved for special occasions. Before she stepped into the shower, Quinn looked herself over in the mirror. Her naturally crimson red hair was dull from months of dollar store shampoo, and her green eyes had fatigue bags below them. At least her high school acne was no longer a problem, her pale complexion clear and smooth.
Some friends from her old neighborhood, Vanessa and Roy, had invited her over for dinner. They had even let her bring her work friend, Thrace. The free meal was a budgetary boon in and of itself, but the couple was incredibly fun to hang out with, not to mention supremely interesting. Years ago, when she was just starting college, she had found out that her old neighbors, who had been the fun young couple next door, were polyamorous. One day while hanging out, they had introduced her to Macy, a girl that lived with them who would do all sorts of things almost too scandalous to believe.
It took Quinn a while to understand the dynamic, but she soon realized that it was not some dark, scary situation, but a consenting relationship between these adults. Over the last few years, Quinn had become more comfortable with their lifestyle, meeting a few of their subs on the odd occasion. It was not necessarily a secret the couple held, but they remained discreet to anyone they were not close to, both for their own benefit and their third.
Quinn was stepping out of the shower when she heard impatient ringing at her doorbell. Quickly wrapping a towel around her dripping body, she rushed to the door. Looking through the peephole, she saw Thrace outside.
"Just a sec," Quinn called, looking around for some clothes to throw on.
Thrace banged on the door again, "Come on, it's freezing out here." Quinn bit her lip. She did not want to open the door in her state, but if she waited any longer than Thrace was bound to either break down her door or cause enough of a scene that the neighbors would call the cops. Reluctantly, she opened the door, clutching the towel to her body with her other hand.
Thrace was right, it had gotten cold outside and the air that blew in chilled her wet skin to the bone. Her friend scurried in and tossed her purse on the old couch, turning to regard Quinn with a smirk, "You always answer the door naked?"
"You're early..." Quinn muttered under her breath. When Thrace asked what she had said, she answered differently, "Sorry, I'm almost ready."
Thrace seemed impatient, but relented. Unlike Quinn, she wore makeup regularly, often spending most of her paycheck on that, new clothes, fancy phones, and all the things Quinn had gone without for some time, a benefit of living in her parents condo. Her raven hair was always shimmering like something out of a Pantene commercial, and she had an artificial tan from days spent at the salon. Her attitude often mirrored her appearance, always frivolous and talkative, but Quinn did not mind. It was easy to hang out with her and let Thrace do all the talking, allowing herself to stay out of the spotlight. They had known each other for a while, and Thrace seemed to enjoy her company too, not having to fight for the attention she craved.
Quinn quickly got dressed, and ready, throwing on a comfortable outfit. When she walked out of her room, Thrace stopped her, shaking her head.
"What?" Quinn asked worriedly.
"Come on," Thrace replies, "You can do better than that. Tell me that isn't your nicest outfit."
Quinn looked down at her long sleeved college shirt and faded denims. "These are my nicest jeans," she mumbled.
"Probably your only jeans," her friend replied, "and you didn't even bother to get your makeup on. Let try this again, but this time, I'm in charge."
Thrace shooed her back into the bathroom, but despite her annoyance, Quinn went along with it. They would be late, and Vanessa and Roy would hardly care what she wore. After all, they had been hanging out for years now. Regardless, she was not confrontational enough to argue, even with Thrace, so she let the talkative diva doll her up.
When they were finished, Quinn had to admit that she looked good. Thrace had created a pretty interesting combination from her outdated, tattered closet. She wore one of her old flannel shirts, so stretched it hung off one shoulder, and an old plaid skirt she had not broken out since high school over some torn up tights. Around her waist was tied a grey hoodie that added that extra fun to her now edgy grunge look. To go along with the tattered outfit, Thrace had done up her hair in a fun but rebellious burst of crimson locks, all framing her now touched up face. The whole ensemble screamed of a punk girl with an attitude, definitely Thrace's style. Even though it was not exactly "her", Quinn liked the look and had to admit it was a step up.
Finally, the two left the house, and after an apologetic text to her friends for being late, they hit the late night road again.
——————-
Vanessa and Roy's house was much nicer than Quinn's. It was no mansion, but it fit perfectly in the quaint little suburbia around it. A manicured lawn and clean facade told a story of residents with a comfortable income to work with. Quinn had been here dozens of times before, so little things popped out to her, like the extra car in the drive. She recognized it as the older model Saturn she had seen before. It belonged to their current housemate, Trish, who Quinn had met once before. Thrace, on the other hand, had never met the couple, and they preferred to be discreet to those they were not especially close with, so Quinn expected Trish would probably be staying out of sight for the night.
Thrace did not even notice the older car as they walked to the door, somewhat out of place in the picturesque neighborhood. Instead, she knocked rather aggressively before Quinn could stop her. Vanessa answered the door, and Quinn passed her an embarrassingly apologetic look. She imagined it would not be her last tonight as she introduced her rather filterless friend to the couple.
"Hey," Vanessa greeted, "Dinner ended up taking longer than we thought, so I'm glad you guys were a bit late, too." Quinn was not sure if she was telling the truth, or just saying that to make them feel better. Roy came around the corner and greeted them as well. Thrace, to her credit, stayed on her best behavior and shook both their hands.
Vanessa was tall, but not from being a large person, but more from her always perfect posture. It was a touch of elegance that Quinn had always admired. She had gone to school with Vanessa's younger sister long ago, and had been surprised to meet the always polite and to-the-point older sibling who, even in her early college years, held herself to a standard of etiquette that was both warm and welcoming. Vanessa had long, wavy blonde hair, falling past her shoulders like a golden waterfall. Though she was several years older than Quinn, she looked just as youthful. Quinn wondered if that said more of her cheerful composure, or of Quinn's own inability to take care of herself.
When she saw Quinn's creative outfit, she rose an eyebrow, impressed, "I like the new look. Reinventing yourself?"
Quinn blushed, "No, Thrace here apparently couldn't be seen in public with me in my usual stuff. I like this, but it's not exactly my style."
"Oh well," Roy said, stepping over. His low, gravely voice always seemed laced with laughter, "It's nice to see you dress up for once. I'd swear you're smiling more."
Roy was big and broad, not heavy set, just large. He worked as a construction foreman, building residential neighborhoods, but he still loved to get his hands dirty, so he maintained a solid frame of dense curves without looking like some bulgy body builder. His hair was red as well, though an entirely different caste from Quinn's. Where hers was dark crimson as dancing flame, his was light and exceptionally Irish, curling in tight bunches both on his head and in his thick beard.
The moment the couple turned to lead them in, Thrace shot her a look of sultry excitement at Roy's built frame. Quinn blushed and gave her friend an angry look. She was already nervous about introducing Thrace to her couple friends, and she was wondering if something embarrassing would happen to make her regret this all. For a moment though, she found herself picturing Roy and Vanessa using Thrace as their live-in house girl. To Quinn's surprise, a jumble of thoughts all rushed through her mind at once, leaving as quickly as they entered: arousal at the image of the three in bed, humorous disbelief at the thought of Thrace being at all cooperative, then a twang of jealousy toward her friend.
The last feeling caught her off guard. She had never thought about the couple's arrangement like that. At first, it had weirded her out, but she had learned to accept it as part of their lives that did not really affect her, therefore was not worth dwelling on. Before she could think any more on the matter, they were all called to dinner and conversation spread into a variety of topics.
Thankfully, Thrace stayed pretty civilized throughout, though she tended to steer the conversation into dangerous waters, bringing up politics, celebrity scandals, and even giving Roy a hard time about his favorite sports team. The group enjoyed the conversations though. Quinn loved to hang out with Roy and Vanessa. They were just older than her enough to have that experienced maturity she was still waiting for, but young enough to still throw the sassy barbed comment back at Thrace when she got rowdy. By the time they finished dessert, all four of them were rolling with laughter over a joke Roy had just told.
"-and now Tom is not allowed anywhere near the nail gun," he said with a hearty bellow. Quinn was busy trying to contain her laughter when she saw his eyes rest on something behind her. Several things happened in the next instant. His expression changed slightly to something she could not quite read, then Quinn heard a startled squeak behind her. The noise was so sudden, it made Quinn and Thrace jump. They spun around in surprise just in time to see a girl their age wearing frilly dark lingerie scamper quickly back up the stairs and out of sight.
"What the hell was that?" Thrace asked, suddenly confused.
"It's ok," Vanessa said, getting up from the table, "she lives here." She leaned over and kissed Roy's cheek, "I'll be right back." He nodded as she left the dining room.
Thrace was clearly not satisfied, "She was too old to be your kid. Who had a roommate who just sneaks around wearing that stuff? That's kinda weird..."
