Impossible Girl - 41

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The apartment felt violated. A chemical residue lingered in the air and the cushions on the couch were in the wrong spot. Put in place by someone who didn’t know where they belonged.

She opened her wardrobe and imagined gloved hands touching her clothes, checking the pockets and lining, looking for clues… evidence of wrongdoing.

The Impossible Girl sat on the bed and kicked off her heels. What the f&*k was she going to do?

A bottle of duty free vodka was sitting on the top of her luggage so she unscrewed the cap and took a swig. It took about a millimetre of the edge off. She wondered if Rowan had anything stronger in his special guitar case but then remembered the police search. Detective B*#chface would definitely have mentioned it if they had found anything illegal in the place. The blue fairies? There had been almost a full box and the prescription was legal but a quick search told her they too were gone.

She took another swig of the vodka and sat back down. Thinking of the fairies made her think of her own need. Something had changed since the night with Marc and Belle. The urge was gone. Indefinitely? The Impossible Girl had no idea what was going on but her skin had been fabulous all week and there was no itch, no climbing the walls feeling of emptiness.

From day four of Tokyo Fashion Week she had been preparing for the compulsion to strike, but it never did. Two and a half years on and the disease just disappeared? She hadn’t been able to bring herself to believe it and the thought of the long haul flight made her nervous. On her last night in Tokyo the Impossible Girl had returned the advances of a drunk Japanese male model.

They ended up in her room. He was surprised but also excited when instead of fellating him, she had punctured his inner thigh and sipped from a plump vein beside his scrotum. She’d kicked him out soon after dick in hand. He probably thought she was a freak but it didn’t matter, his lips were sealed. He was engaged to be married to a very lovely girl from a prestigious family.

Had it even been necessary? What the hell was happening? She wanted the truth and she wanted Rowan but it didn’t look like either of them was coming home to her. All she had was a litre of duty free vodka and even that was now half gone. A fat tear rolled down the Impossible Girl’s cheek. She got up to brush her teeth and gurgled with another shot.

Her phone rang just as she fell into bed.

‘Mmmmmm..’

‘It’s me…. God you sound f*#ked up’
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Impossible Girl - 40

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Arriving home to a sh*#storm
Conversation # IG (IGirl) DB (Detective Beekhuyzen) DD (Detective Daniels)

DB: Do you want a coffee? We got you a coffee. Are you comfortable?

IG: Of course I’m not comfortable.

DD: We understand you have been in Japan for the last nine days?

IG: What’s going on? Am I accused of something?

DD: When was the last time you spoke to your boyfriend?

IG: I want to know why I’m sitting in this room instead of in a taxi on my way home.

DB: Your apartment has been searched.

IG: What? DB: Detective Daniels?

DD: A search warrant was issued as part of our investigation.

IG: What investigation?

DD: A woman’s body has been found. She was last seen getting into a taxi with your boyfriend. Items of interest were collected from your apartment.

IG: Wha.. who is she?

DD: We’re not at liberty to divulge that information.

DB: Do you know how to contact Rowan Bark?

IG: No! He’s not answering his mobile.. if he’s not in the apartment I don’t…

DB: Are you aware of your boyfriend’s fetish for spiking and sucking blood from his sexual partners?

IG: I want a lawyer.

DB: We simply want you to co-operate in our investigation.

IG: Rowan is into a lot of things Detective but he wouldn’t kill anybody!

DD: What about you? Are you into the same things?

IG: F&%^ this, I want a lawyer!

DB: Can you give us any information pertaining to the whereabouts of Rowan Bark?

IG: I haven’t spoken to him for a week! God what if something has happened to him?

DB: We’re as keen to locate him as you are. When exactly did you last speak to him?

IG: It… it was late, after my show opened on the 6th.

DD: He called to congratulate you? IG: Not exactly… kind of.

DD: Which was it?

IG: We had a fight ok.

DB: Was he very angry?

IG: I’m not saying any more until I get a lawyer.

DB: No need. You can go. IG: What about my apartment?

DB: It’s been secured. We don’t consider it a crime scene at this time. If you have any concerns you can contact my office.

IG: So that’s it?

DB: For the moment. If you hear from Rowan notify us immediately. Likewise if you plan on leaving the city for any length of time. Here’s my card.

DD: One more thing. We’ll be making a statement to the media later in the day. Rowan’s name will be released as a person wanted for questioning pertaining to the case.
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Impossible Girl - 39

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‘Good afternoon Ma’am, I’m Detective Beekhuyzen and this is Detective Daniels of the New South Wales Crime Squad. We need to ask you a few questions. If you would just follow us please.’

The Impossible Girl hadn’t expected a reception at the customs exit. She’d deliberately avoided telling anyone her change of flight details, especially Roly - brand manager, leak pimp & PR genius extraordinaire. Privacy and the space to think, outside of the craziness and pressures of work, was what she desperately wanted.

And she definitely hadn’t expected a reception like the one she was getting. Two plain clothes detectives, badges hanging in the pockets of bad suits, addressing her by her legal name.

‘What? I don’t have anything to declare.’

This isn’t a customs issue Ma’am. If you’d just like to come with us.’

‘I don’t understand. Is something wrong, is someone hurt?’ The Impossible Girl was shaking.

‘We just need to ask you a few questions, probably best if we do that in private hey?’

She followed the detective’s gaze to a girl standing with her back to the carousel, holding her iPhone up to them. Shit.

‘What about my luggage? I can’t understand why I wasn’t phoned.’ She checked her messages as she said it, just a text from Roly, nothing about the police.

‘Someone will collect your luggage.’ It was the first time the female detective had spoken, she had her eyes on IGirl’s mobile, looking like a cat ready to pounce.

‘Is Rowan alright?’ It didn’t add up, if Rowan had been hurt someone would have called her, but, Oh God, maybe they knew about… maybe someone had…

‘As far as we know yes, but we should discuss this in the station. Shall we?’

The Impossible Girl allowed herself to be led away. She kept her head low and her hand up as the girl who had obviously recognized her continued to video.

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Impossible Girl - 38

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You have to talk to me eventually
Conversation #IG (IGirl) #RBVM (Rowan Bark Voice Mail)

RBVM: It’s Rowan. Leave a message and maybe I’ll get back to you.
IG: It’s me again… I guess you’re not getting back to me…
IG: I know you’re angry but we need to talk…
IG: I’m ringing back… Please pick up…
BEEP
RBVM: It’s Rowan. Leave a message and maybe I’ll get back to you.
IG: F*&k Rowan… don’t do this to me…
IG: You have to believe I didn’t know… I still don’t… but I want to… I want to know what’s going on. Don’t you?
IG: You have to talk to me eventually…
IG: My flight gets in Monday morning, please be home.
BEEP
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For the Impossible Girl label Tokyo Fashion Week 2010 was a phenomenal success. Big time pay dirt according to Roly. Orders and opportunities were flocking in from all over the globe. Another year of this and they could start shopping for real estate in the Seychelles… hardly but still it was good, very good.

People were finally taking her seriously. She wasn’t just an eccentric ex-model pimping for the limelight with her exhibitionist behaviour, her collection spoke for itself. She should be ecstatic, sharing her success with Roly and the girls, not trudging along alone in her gutters of self doubt and misery.

The streets of Tokyo, normally so vibrant and alive, felt stale and dead to her now. Her retail therapy had achieved nothing, glossy bags of vintage Jun Takahashi hung from her fingers and, nothing. Even the people were cold. It was as if they could see through to the core of her shame and they wore their disgust like a shroud. A young Harajuku couple broke off their kissing and returned her stare. Everything she looked at was an ominous reminder of the night with Mark and Belle. Their blood...

With eyes down the Impossible Girl didn’t see the boy until she had ploughed right into him on the busy Shibuya street. She mumbled ‘Gomennasai’ and was on the move again when his words struck her from behind like a stake.

‘Nukekubi, Nukekubi Kono Ama!’

Where had she heard those words before? It came to her with a chill, Belle crouched above her, blood dripping from her chin as she grinned and uttered that exact phrase.

Vampire, You Vampire Bitch.

When she turned around the boy was just a head in a sea of pedestrians. His insult apparently nothing more than the outburst of an angry teen.

But by the time she closed her hotel room door she was in tears. Every molecule in her body screamed at her to get out. She needed to get back home… would it still be there for her?
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Impossible Girl - 37

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The Impossible Girl woke up sprawled on the sheet less king-size bed in an open bathrobe. The combined smell of blood, sex and vomit made her gag and cough. A spear of light shone through the thin space between the curtains and hit her in the face. She felt groggy, her throat was clogged and her lips were crusted. She got up and pulled the shades.

The unfriendly light revealed a pool of burgundy puke that had soaked into the bare mattress. In the mirror she could see where it had dried on her chin and congealed in patches on her robe. Around the room she counted six empty champagne bottles and two ice buckets. One of the buckets was on its side next to a patch of wet carpet.

A simple note sat on the bedside table. ‘Don’t be angry, our time will come. Yours M.’
The previous evening came flooding back to her. She held out her hand and shut her eyes as if to stop it.

What she really wanted was an exit out of all of this mess. She pictured herself sitting on the grass beside Rowan at the Blues Festival in Byron Bay, enjoying the music and the flow of the crowd. Anonymous, young, in love and everything simple and beautiful.

But that was fantasy, her reality was this room. Its stony silence made a nightmare of her hollow wishes. She opened her eyes and found her shadow falling across the ice bucket. This was probably what a mental breakdown felt like.

Her bag and clothes were in a pile on the bathroom floor. When she picked up her phone she felt a pain in the tendons of her wist. Rolling her forearm she found a black and blue weeping bite mark.

There were five messages from Roly. He’d lined up half a dozen interviews and an invitation for some bash tonight that according to his message ‘could not be missed’. As she sat on the toilet listening she felt another puncture bruise on her ass, and spotted yet another on her right breast. Ugh… She threw up blood onto the white tiles in front of her.

Mark and Belinda had disappeared and so had his luggage. The Impossible Girl doubted she would see them again this week. Mark was a pro at the quick exit, she thought bitterly.

She stood under the shower thinking how naïve she and Rowan had been. They had denied their condition for as long as they could, and when they couldn’t ignore its urges they had merely placated them. Why hadn’t they pushed for answers?

As she turned off the faucet it occurred to the Impossible Girl that there were no messages from Rowan. It felt ominous. Mark was connected to Belinda and Rowan thought she knew that… that she had known it all along. Could she blame him? How would she feel if the tables were turned?

Whatever the implications of last night she had to put it behind her and get on with the job, at least for the moment, at least for this week. The Impossible girl owed it to herself and she owed it to Roly. She would finish what she came to Tokyo to do.
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Impossible Girl - 36

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He was as charming as a snake. Possibly more lethal. She sat through it all though, half smile pasted on her face. It wasn’t enough to produce a knock out collection, IGirl had to learn to play their game. Ironic that in a pool of sharks she was the one depicted as the bad sport.

Maurizio was the fashion editor you wanted on your side and right now he was sitting on IGirls left. After hours of preparation she had let the stylist take over and taken her place at the front. Hiding out the back wouldn’t do her any favours at this event.

There had been a stream of copycats on the catwalk this week but IGirl knew she was a step ahead. And Belle was sensational. She rocked the dresses. She injected the jackets. She was Medusa in a mini and a cut away top.

When IGirl took the stage she knew they had nailed it. The sharks had taken the bait. Champagne flowed and cameras snapped and Belle leaned in to whisper in her ear. If IGirl had enough blood in her system to blush she would have. Wine wasn’t the only thing that would intoxicate.

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Five hours later IGirl knew she was very drunk. They were the dolls of the fashion press, Maurizio’s exact words. They were world news in the space of an evening. Mark had stopped reading the reviews about an hour ago. He continued to bring her drinks.

She lay in the oversized spa bath in his suite. Wet Japanese silk clining to her body. Shoulders loosened by the stroke of Belle’s fingers. Belle had disappeared back into the room with Mark. IGirl wondered if they were f*#%ing. She doubted it was the first time.

Should she be here? IGirl was far from a prude. If she had ever been prey to Christian guilt it wasn’t the thing that nagged her now. It was her relationship with Rowan.

Falling in love with him had altered her perspective. Made her life liquid joy. It had given her happiness and clarity she could not have imagined.

Even with things as they were…. their relationship in tatters…. that clarity haunted her. IGirl knew it wasn’t the person that you betrayed it was the purity of love itself. And that love was always with you, even if the person was a thousand miles away.

Bacchian indulgence could pretend Dionysian ecstasy but there was only one true nectar. IGirl and Rowan had sipped it. They’d understood intrinsically that it was a prize to nurture and hold and then he’d lost his grip. Everything had changed with the blood…..There was a fine line between celebrating a gift and betraying it.

To hell with it, IGirl thought. It was gone. What drove her now was not so much a desire for orgasm but a lust for blood. She stood up and looked for a towel. Her head spinning from the wine.

As if on cue her phone buzzed. It was on the basin beside her. She reached over and registered Rowan’s name on the screen. Impeccable timing.

‘Hellllooo,’ IGirl didn’t care that she sounded wasted. She hadn’t expected to hear from him on this trip.

‘What the f*#% are you doing with Belinda?’

‘What’re you…. tlking bout?’

‘Belinda, in the photos. Your f*#%ing star model. What is this? Have you been f*#%ing with me all along? Did you ever f*#%ing care about me?’

IGirl was trying to register what he was saying.

‘What? No.. I mean….’

Click. Mark had taken the phone and was stepping her out of the tub, dripping wet into the bedroom. Belle was naked. There was a growing drop of blood just below her collar bone and everything Rowan had said was starting to make sense. Bitch.

Belle let out a scream as IGirl lunged at the bed and bit into her open thigh.
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Impossible Girl - 35

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IGirl felt it when she walked through the door. A thickening of the air. A presence with more gravity than it’s mass.

She wasn’t exactly beautiful. Cheekbones not quite full enough, lips on the thin side, plus she had the gap. Yesterday’s bad teeth were today’s most prized possession in the industry. Belle had the gap and something else. An attitude that dared you to look behind the mask.

It wasn't comfortable but something definitely got under your skin. Mark was right. She was perfect for the IGirl range.

‘I’ll leave you girls to it.’ The tone of voice was all Mark but walking out on a business introduction wasn’t. Especially when the introduction involved two attractive women and a bar. It had to be a very important meeting for him to leave this.

Belle must have been close to IGirl’s age. A latecomer to modelling. Too old for pubescent sensitivity to the trade. She looked tough enough to fend off a dozen bitchy models, a sleazebag agent and a handful of old pervert photographers without breaking a sweat.

‘What do you think?’

She was direct too.

‘Can you do my look?’

‘Like this?’ Belle’s face was a death mask, so absolutely soulless it made IGirl flinch.

‘Can you walk in a 4 inch heel?’ She recovered herself quickly though there was something about that look that scraped IGirl to the bone.

‘Like a sex on a stick.’ And just like that Belle’s face went from soulless to the fullness of lust.

There wasn’t much left to discuss. Belle was the gift you would choose for yourself. The thing you would max out your credit card for without blinking. She was going to own the catwalk. Together they would blow the stage out from under Japanese Fashion Week. IGirl was already dressing and styling her in her mind.

‘Do you have anything in your room I could try on?’

It was as if Belle had read her mind. Her eyes and a brush of her hand suggested another motive for visiting IGirl’s hotel suite.

It was a tempting offer. IGirl couldn’t help herself. She thought about biting in to Belle’s thigh and her mouth watered and she had to swallow. Visibly.

Belle didn’t miss a trick and the display flushed her lust with confidence.

‘We should try things on each other,’ she said before IGirl had the chance to speak.

Mark must have known the models ‘preference’. Perhaps she was bi and he was planning a party with both of them after the show. It would be just like him. Always trying to find a way back in.

‘I think tomorrow will be soon enough,’ IGirl forced herself to say. It was the sort of weakness that if surrendered to could really f*#$ with your business plan.
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Impossible Girl - 34

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The bath was deep and spacious and filled with suds. She sat submersed, sipping a glass of rich, chocolately red and listening to the soft music filtering from the speakers. Japanese Fleetwood-Mac covers. Tell me Lies. How lush. Her only regret - he wasn’t here.

The decision was made though. Rowan needed his space and so did she. Romantic holidays together might ease their problems but they didn’t make them go away.

It would work itself out… or it wouldn’t. No choice really. They were tied. This ‘thing’ had bound them more tightly than marriage. Perhaps that was the problem.

For now she would work. And working meant meeting Mark and the new model downstairs in an hour. IGirl sighed and reached for her towel.

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Mark was alone when she arrived. Chewing a toothpick, glass empty in front of him. Asshole probably planned it that way. She looked around for a photographer.

‘What, no Papps to photograph our romantic date?’ she said as she sat down.

‘I’d rather have a date with a proctologist. This is a business meeting and you’re late.’

He was peeved. Edgy about something. IGirl doubted it was over the incident in the Hummer. Something else?

‘By nine minutes and it looks like our third party isn’t here yet.’

‘She’ll be here.’

She could keep fighting him but what was the point. Someone had to break the ice.

‘Is something wrong?’

He looked like sh#$. It was seven hours since she had left him in the back of the Limo but from the look of him it could have been seven years. His face was dry and lined, even the skin on his hands was flaky. Mark looked haggard.

‘My afternoon appointment didn’t turn up that’s all. Minor issue I should have resolved in an hour or so.’

‘You look like you need a good sleep.’

‘Am I sensing some concern? The ice maiden cares?’ Even tired Mark was a flirt.

‘It’s listed on my resume under weaknesses.’

‘See, we do have fun together.’

‘Sometimes,’ IGirl conceded.

‘I’m sorry I snapped. Belle will be here soon, then I’ll leave.’

‘Really, you’re not going to stay and have one drink?’

‘There’s something I really need to do.’

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Impossible Girl - 33

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IGirl scanned the line of vehicles outside the airport. Nothing resembling her ride. Just the stretch Hummer with Mark the prat opening the passenger door for her.

She got in and he followed. Taking the seat opposite.

‘What, you’re not my driver?’ IGirl spat between clenched teeth.

‘I could take you for a drive baby.’

He leaned toward her just as the automatic window slid down. Lenses poked their way into the car. The bastard was puckering up to kiss her so she slapped him. The light from the camera flashes intensified.

‘Drive, drive now,’ she yelled at the driver.

This was proving difficult with two cameramen clinging to the door frame. She flicked the button to raise the window and the driver pulled away from the curb.

‘You f#$%ing bastard.’ She wanted to bite him. Rip the conceited grin off his face with her teeth.

He was sitting back. One arm across the back of the seat, his legs stretched and casually open.

‘I was doing you a favour, the publicity will be amazing.’

She lifted her foot and shoved her heel into his groin. The look of pain that shot across his face WAS amazing.

‘What exactly do you want Mark?’ It had been such a promising start to Tokyo. However brief.

‘Unh, I came to offer you something. Something you WILL want. Don’t know if I’m feeling so generous now.’

His phone buzzed and he pulled himself together and answered it. Russian? She didn't know he spoke Russian. IGirl stared out the window as he talked to whoever and central Tokyo emerged before her.

'... Spasiba.'

‘Are you going to tell me what it is that I'll want so much,’ she asked as he hung up. Despite herself she wanted to know what was on offer.

‘Are you going to kiss my cock better?’ His smile still looked a little hurt.

‘Let’s skip the foreplay and get to the point Mark.’

‘An apology at least?’

‘I’m still waiting on a queue of apologies from you.’ She wished it back the minute it was out of her mouth. It made her sound vulnerable, like those memories still mattered.

Mark sucked it up. Better than an apology.

‘There’s a new filly in my stable. You’re going to want to take a look at her.’

He was using this language to goad her. Remind her of the flesh she had been to him. IGirl wished she could push him out of the car.

‘I can choose from the models tomorrow.’

‘I came to offer you an exclusive.’

Mark was an asshole but on the subject of women and image he was a maestro. If this model was as good as he claimed an exclusive was valuable.

‘Is the offer still open?’ IGirl hated negotiating with him. Especially now. But this week was important.

‘Of course. It’s in lieu of my absent apologies.’

‘When can I meet her?’ IGirl chose to ignore his bait.

‘Join us for a drink tonight.’

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Impossible Girl - 32

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Why the hell would you want to join the mile high club? She bashed her elbow against the lock on the door for the third time. Be like f#$%ing in a sardine tin. A final dab of black under her eye. Under these circumstances it would do. She was ready.

An amused business man hits the wall of paparazzi ahead of her. He keeps glancing back at her, obviously wondering what the fuss is about. IGirl follows the path he has carved through the lenses. Camera’s flash. Someone from the Airline is saying that they need to move aside, they still have three hundred people to get off the plane.

Questions fire along with the flashes.
‘You’re back’.
‘What is it with you and Japanese Fashion Week?’
‘Will you see Mark Snashell while you’re here?’

‘Yes, I’m back’, IGirl forces her lips into a half smile. She would answer their questions on her way to the exit where a car is apparently waiting. The airline would deliver her luggage to the hotel.

She kept her gait slow enough to signal encouragement. This was a business trip after all.

‘I love this event. It’s never afraid to take risks and it does it so courteously.’

‘And Mark? Will you see Mark Snashell while you’re here?’

That question again. It wasn’t so much difficult as it was dull. To IGirl anyway, obviously to other people it was fascinating.

She reinstates her smile. A photo of her irritated frown would probably be twisted into a moment of emotional turmoil at the mention of Mark’s name.

‘If Mark’s here, I’m sure I will see him.’

‘Is it true you’ve broken up with Rowan Bark?’ Another question she expected but still hurts. And it’s served up within the auspice of truth.

‘I don’t know what the truth is but I don’t think it’s that.’

Not a single question or comment about the collection. She had to use every ounce of mental energy she had left to swallow her contempt. It wasn’t their job after all. And Roly was right, this hype sold more frocks than a dozen good reviews.

She would be interviewed by ‘real’ fashion journalists later in the week. A prospect which always terrified her. If the paparazzi were vultures the fashion media were tigers, flashing you their beautiful coat one minute, tearing you apart the next.

The dozen or so photographers and ‘reporters’ that had met her at her gate were still tailing her but the camera’s had eased off and no one was bothering to question her anymore.

She was envisioning that long hot bath and congratulating herself on the way she had handled the paparazzi when she saw him. Through the exit doors, casually leaning against the waiting SUV. He smiled and raised his hand in a wave.

The clicks and flashes whirred into a new found frenzy. She was almost knocked off her platform heels by a photographer eager to get a close up of the moment.

F#$%ing Mark. It was just like him to pull a stunt like this.

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Impossible Girl - 31

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IGirl woke with a crick in her neck, even business class recliners were crap to sleep in. She couldn’t wait to get to her hotel room and soak in a long hot bath. The stewardess brought her a bloody mary and the colour of it reminded her of how deeply she’d drunk from Rowan the night before. She pushed it from her mind, she might have to go weeks now.

She fired up her laptop, there was paparazzi at Tokyo airport. Roly would be pleased. To Roly paparazzi equalled photos, equalled magazine exposure, equalled sales. IGirl knew he was right but after a twelve hour flight she couldn’t find the mind set. She was too tired to put on a show.

IGirl had worn her hair in the bones onto the plane in Sydney and all she got was snide comments and amateurs with I-phones. She felt embarrassed, a ‘poser’ as a passing someone had put it. As soon as she got on board she’d pull them out. Her hair was a mess. Later on, when she’d had time to clean up, she would secure the IGirl illusion back in place and go court them. If they would have her back.

She'd burned bridges when the interest in the IGirl phenomena had stalked beyond the fashion shows and the Rowan Bark gigs and zoomed into their apartment with a telephoto lens. She couldn’t handle the microscope then. She didn’t know what it would see.

IGirl had needed time off, to lie low and learn to live again… with Rowan and … it. IGirl had avoided most of the winter fashion season, letting Roly take responsibility for launching the last collection. It wasn’t as successful and of course Roly blamed her absence for this.

Now Tokyo city and Japanese Fashion Week loomed large again in front of her. Tokyo had been so good to her. IGirl hoped her re-entry would be as welcome as the plane’s landing.

The early release pieces were getting good press. But according to Roly it was way too early to rest on her laurels. She needed to get out and work the scene again. It wasn’t enough to design the frocks, she had to wear the skull and bones, she had to be the brand, be the bad girl.

‘Celebrity designer’, she resented the label. When she was working every line, every cut, every seam obsessed her. None of the money or the acclaim mattered, she just wanted to make something beautiful. But now that the season’s designs were complete IGirl new she did want it. She always had.

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Impossible Girl - 30

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I can’t be responsible for your guilt
Conversation #IG (IGirl) RB (Rowan Bark)

RB: I can’t be responsible for your guilt..
IG: You can’t be responsible for anything but your own comfort..
RB: Is my love not good enough for you?
IG: F*#$ Rowan I just drugged and bled a kid…
RB: You did what you had to do.
IG: Why can’t you be here for me?
RB: Do you want me to go and check the kid’s still breathing?
IG: NO. God why don’t you get it.
RB: I do get it. There’s just nothing I can do about it.
IG: Mr cool calm and f*cking conscience free…
RB: Don’t take this out on me.
IG: I just want you to share it.
RB: I’m not going to crucify myself every time I need to feed.
IG: What are you going to do?
RB: I’m not a bad person.
IG: We don’t know what the f*#$ we are.
RB: We know as much as anyone..


It’s business time
Conversation #IG (IGirl) Roly

IG: It’s not what I want.
Roly: What you want is unaffordable
IG: What’s the point then? I may as well do a range for Target.
Roly: I thought I was the princess in this partnership.
IG: You are.. I’m the Queen.
Roly: Ha ha.. your royal highness needs to keep it real.
IG: The reality of that dress is the flow of the fabric.
Roly: You can’t run a business without a profit margin.
IG: Well charge more. Treat it as a signature piece rather than a rack piece.
Roly: Someone will just rip it off.. we may as well give it away..
IG: I want to create beauty…
Roly: Oh get off the stool..
IG: It’s my vision that makes this business Roly..
Roly: Alright, maybe we can do signature piece and a rack version, make you happy?
IG: Yes
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IMPOSSIBLE GIRL - 29

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Thump Thump

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IMPOSSIBLE GIRL - 28

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‘You should have this,’ IGirl pushed the pill at him.

‘What about you?’ Ben asked.

‘One for me too,’ she said.

She dropped the panadeine and passed him the bottle of water, watching him swallow his own pill without hesitation.

It would be only be a few minutes before the fairy took effect. For IGirl that seemed like an eternity. She was completely consumed, she could feel his pulse inside her throat. But it would be dangerous to prick him too soon. He was easily twice as strong and she couldn’t afford to panic him.

She pulled his shirt off and ran her fingers across his chest, tracing his nipples and belly button, the fine line of hair disappearing beneath his belt.

‘God your skin is so beautiful,’ IGirl whispered.

‘And you’ve got a great ass,’ Ben’s teenage hands were eager.

It was a shame his touch couldn’t match his body in beauty, IGirl thought as she pulled herself away from him and stood to undress.

Taking off her dress didn’t qualify as much of striptease but if she timed it well Ben’s tentacles would cease being an issue.

‘Don’t touch now, Ben. Be patient, I want to really want you first’ she said as she slowly peeled her dress over her head.

His eyes were glassing.

‘Whhaatt do...’

‘Nearly there…..’

He was out. Throat exposed on the concrete floor. So sweet. She straddled him and used her thimble to create a flow from the top of his neck, closing her mouth over it and letting the blood trickle into her desperate mouth.

When she swallowed it was syrupy, warm and tasted of iron and salt. She jerked and leeched on his neck. She felt her teeth, his skin, her lips, his blood, her stomach. God it was good. IGirl felt she could have drunk of him indefinitely. But there were consequences to that sort of indulgence. Consequences she was not ready to deal with. Ben’s shallow breath in her ear was a pertinent reminder of that. After a minute she pulled away, using a tissue to stem and clot the flow of blood.

First the sated feeling and now waves of euphoria. She felt soooo good, invincible really, like having just snorted a couple of lines of great coke without any of the associated heebie jeebies.

IGirl allowed her mind and body to flow in appreciation for a moment or two before surveying the scene. It would be another half an hour or so before Ben came to. She felt a stab of conscience at the thought of him waking alone and confused. But there was no room for conscience in her life now so she pushed it aside.

What she really needed to do was cover her tracks and get out of this concrete bunker. IGirl pulled on her dress and crouched back down over Ben’s body, adding a couple of passionless hickies to his chest. The bruising wouldn’t be as severe as the mark on his neck but they would at least diffuse the focus.

This park would be a no go zone for her now but it had fulfilled its purpose. In the future she would need to remind herself not to wait so long. It was stupid to think she could rely on Rowan.
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