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You're somewhat disappointed at the somewhat limited selection she's offering you here. Probably because you're a new customer and she doesn't want to give you the spicy shit yet. Or maybe you're too early and they haven't restocked? Who knows. You mull this over while making your selection of items.
The clothes and makeup is what catches your eye first. It's been a while since you managed to update your sense of fashion in any meaningful way. New shirts, new pants, a dress or two, eyeliner, lipstick, some skirts, a pile of cheap yet fashionable items. You glance up at the bored teenager.
"$250? For this?" You jab an index finger at the selection. "L-look at this! Ew!" You pull up a decent looking shirt. "I think I saw this on a hobo once! Real nasty type. FUCKING FILTHY, I TELL YOU!" The teenager doesn't bother responding. You hold up a set of eyeliner. Again, decent quality. If you ignore how your vision twists it to be three times the length it should be.
"This looks like a colored pencil! I thought your store wouldn't steal from a kid's art supply! C'mon, $220 should be enough for this!"
The teenager stares blankly at you. She pulls the cigarette out of her mouth. With a small tap, she lets some ash fall onto the front counter.
>20
Her expression softens when she takes a closer look at you. You hope to god she doesn't mention your fucked up head. "...You really do need this, don't you?" There's a tinge of pity in her tone. "Shit, I get it. This stuff is expensive and, uh, no offense?" Smoke trickles out of her mouth.
"I think you need this way more than I care about $30. Sure. It's $220, miss." She pops the cigarette back into her mouth. "Is that all you're buying?" Her whole mood has changed just by you asking for a discount. You were expecting her to be annoyed or somethin' but you're not sure if you like the pity look she's giving you.
[UNSTABLE] SHE KNOWS. SHE KNOWS HOW MUCH OF A FUCK UP YOU ARE. YET, YOU WERE ABLE TO SPIN IT IN A WAY WHERE SHE ISN'T CALLING FOR THE COPS. THE FEDS. THE ONES WHO GLOW.
[PERSON OF INTEREST] They wouldn't bother even if she did. They have bigger plans for you.
"No, no." You mutter as you scratch at your snout. The teenager raises her eyebrow at what she must be seeing but doesn't comment. You grab a bulky rectangle with a bright red cross slapped on it and a dinky set of goggles with green lenses. "I'll take these as well. C-could you get, uh, more utility items in stock later?"
"Uh. I'll ask Neal?" The teenager shrugs. "Total is $580. I hope you have the money on hand. Last time we accepted credit, we had to hire ten Q-Corp Drones to resolve it. Ugly sight." Her body shivers despite the heat of the fireplace nearby.
It takes a bit of effort to get the wad of cash out of your pocket (damn drug messing with your head) but you eventually slap the $580 down. The teenager quickly checks it before plopping it into the cash register. She hangs you a full plastic bags. "See you later." "See ya."
