As I wandered through the main area of the Vault, I felt like I was in a world where all morality had long ceased to exist. The Vault was always alive with activity. I passed by rooms where deals were struck with hushed tones and eager hands. The black market was in full swing, with people exchanging everything from stolen electronics, rare, illicit drugs, pornography, and what I'm pretty sure was jars of piss.
In one corner, a dealer was showing off a glittering array of designer watches to a nervous-looking buyer, who was trying to haggle over the price. Nearby, a couple of guys were involved in a heated argument that seemed to escalate quickly. Their voices rose above the din, and before long, they were throwing punches.
It was then I saw a young girl, a teenager, caught in the middle of the chaos. She was being surrounded by a group of older men; their faces twisted with aggression. They shoved her against the wall, accusing her of scamming them. Her desperation was apparent, and it struck a chord in me.
I didn't think twice. I stepped forward, shoving one of the men away from her. "Hey! Back off!" I shouted, trying to make myself heard over the commotion.
One of the men turned and took a swing at me. The punch landed squarely in my eye, sending a sharp pain through my head. I staggered, my vision blurring momentarily, but I quickly regained my footing. Fueled by a mix of adrenaline and anger, I launched myself into the fray.
I fought with everything I had; my movements fueled by the need to protect the girl. It wasn't a clean fight, but I managed to hold my own, pushing the attackers back and shouting at them to get lost. Eventually, they retreated, grumbling and glaring, leaving the girl and me standing amidst the wreckage of our impromptu battle.
I turned to her, rubbing my bruised eye. "Are you alright?"
She eyed me, sizing me up with a smirk that was more defiant than grateful. "I'm fine. Didn't need rescue, but thanks for the assistance. Name's Farrah, by the way."
I nodded, still catching my breath. "Lux."
With a quick wince, she straightened her rumpled clothes, brushing off the dust. "Those idiots? They thought I sold them fake gold." She rolled her eyes, clearly amused. "It was fake, but what did they expect? Good luck finding the real deal down here for that cheap. Besides, the way I see it, the fight was almost worth it just for the entertainment."
She chuckled, despite the pain, and added with a hint of arrogance, "If I hadn't been so high, I would've taken them all on myself. I'm pretty good at handling myself."
I raised an eyebrow, admiring her bravado despite the situation. "Seems like you've got some fight in you. What's your deal around here?"
Farrah shrugged, "just trying to make a living, you know? I wasn't expecting a fight today, but hey, shit happens."
I glanced at her, curious. "How long you been messing around down here?"
Farrah scoffed, running a hand through her messy hair. "Messing around? I was born here. This place raised me. Learned to fight, scam, and survive before I could walk. The Vault's in my blood." She grinned, that same mix of cockiness and pride flashing in her eyes. "You? You look a little too fresh for this place."
A surge of frustration bubbled up inside me. "I've spent my life on the streets," I shot back, trying to keep my voice steady. "I know how to stand on my own."
She raised an eyebrow, her gaze flicking to the black eye I was rubbing. A smirk played on her lips as she pointed at it mockingly. "Yeah, clearly."
I lowered myself to the ground beside her, feeling a strange sense of relief wash over me. It was nice, for once, to have a conversation that felt…normal. No one trying to read between the lines, no one digging into my business.
Just two people sitting in the chaos of the Vault, sharing a moment. I wasn't sure if it was the anonymity of the place or Farrah herself, but for the first time in a while, I didn't feel like I was under a microscope. Alliances weren't forged in boardrooms—they were built in moments like this, between shared laughs and scraped knuckles. If I was going to survive here, I couldn't just fend off attackers. I needed connections.
I tugged my sleeve down, hiding the violet chain bracelet before Farrah could notice it. The last thing I needed was for her to ask questions about that. We both sat there for a moment, letting out long, tired sighs at the same time.
Then, out of nowhere, we started laughing—just a quiet chuckle at first, but it grew louder.
"Those guys were way too soft to handle a couple of chicks," she joked, her eyes gleaming with amusement. I snorted, shaking my head. "Honestly, they didn't stand a chance."
We laughed again, the tension of the fight melting away as we found some humor in the madness around us. For a moment, it felt like we were just two regular people in an otherwise impossible world.
I glanced over at her, "so, born and raised down here, huh? You ever get out of this place?"
She stretched her arms above her head lazily, then shrugged. "Sometimes I go topside for some fresh air or a change of scenery, but it's too much up there, you know? Too big, too loud. Down here, everything's in its place— even if that place is a dumpster fire." She smirked.
"And you've always been down here?" I asked, still trying to wrap my head around growing up in a place like this
She nodded. "Yeah, pretty much. Raised by Vigo—you know, the guy with all the fake luxury junk? He's the one who taught me how to spot the fake stuff and pass off the real. I also lift a few items off his shelves every now and then. That's how I get my hands on gold for these scumbags. They think they're getting a deal, but I'm just trading trash for whatever I can get."
I raised an eyebrow. "Vigo doesn't care that you're stealing from him?"
She laughed, a hard, cynical sound. "Oh, he knows. But he lets me get away with it 'cause he want to fuck me. Thinks I don't see it, but I'm not an idiot." She rolled her eyes, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's all a game to him. But I've been playing it long enough to know all the tricks."
I studied her for a moment. Despite the laughter and the careless way she spoke, there was something sharp behind her eyes—like she understood everyone's motives a little too well, but she didn't care enough to let it bother her.
"You seem like you've got this place figured out," I said, not entirely sure if that was a compliment or a concern.
Farrah shrugged again, her grin not quite reaching her eyes. "Maybe. Doesn't mean I'm any smarter than the rest of 'em. Just… quicker to spot bullshit, I guess."
Her mix of wisdom and recklessness made her both impressive and concerning, like someone who'd learned too much too fast but still didn't care what happened next.
I hesitated for a moment, unsure if I should push further, but curiosity got the better of me. "What about your parents? Do they—"
Farrah cut me off with a dismissive wave. "Don't know, don't care. Never met 'em. Probably for the best." She said it with such ease, like it didn't even matter.
I couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy. The way she seemed so detached from it all, like none of it weighed her down. Here she was, navigating the chaos of the Vault without getting tangled in its mess. Meanwhile, I carried my past like a shadow that I couldn't shake, always feeling the weight of where I came from.
"Must be nice," I muttered under my breath.
Farrah glanced at me, raising an eyebrow. "What, not giving a damn? Yeah, I guess. Beats the alternative." She smirked, but I could tell she wasn't giving me the full picture. Still, I couldn't help but admire her ability to disassociate from it all, like she had learned to survive by simply not caring. Something about it felt liberating, even if I didn't fully understand how she did it.
She suddenly jumped up from the ground, grabbing my arm and pulling me to my feet. "Come on, let's get something to eat… and maybe some ice for that black eye of yours," she said with a playful grin.
I panicked for a moment, forgetting I even had the black eye. And then it hit me—I had clients waiting on me. But before I could say anything, Farrah yanked me into the crowd, weaving through the chaos with ease. She moved like she owned the place, slipping past people and dodging obstacles like it was second nature. I followed her closely, trying not to lose her in the maze of people.
Eventually, she stopped in front of a small, tucked-away shop where an older Indian lady stood behind a large pot, stirring something that smelled incredible. Without hesitation, Farrah grabbed two bowls from the counter. "Just bill Vigo," she said casually. The lady nodded, not even batting an eye as we walked off with our food.
We found a quiet corner to sit in, and I took my first bite. I was surprised at how good the soup was—rich, creamy, with spices that warmed me from the inside out. It was like nothing I had ever tasted before. "What is this?" I asked, genuinely impressed.
"Curry soup," Farrah said, slurping from her bowl. "Pretty great, right? Old lady's been making it for years."
I nodded, savoring each bite. It was so different from anything I'd had, and it made me forget, just for a moment, about everything else. We sat in comfortable silence, enjoying the soup together.
Farrah glanced at me between bites, her curiosity clear. "So, what about you? What's your story?"
I hesitated, the weight of everything I had been through pressing down on me. "It's a long story," I said, brushing off the question.
Farrah raised an eyebrow, leaning in slightly as a spark of curiosity lit up her eyes. "Come on, Lux," she teased, her voice laced with intrigue. "You can't drop something cryptic like that and leave me hanging. What's the story? Spill it." She slurped another spoonful of soup but didn't take her gaze off Lux, her youthful curiosity matching Lux's own unspoken intrigue. "Don't make me guess—I'm terrible at guessing games." Farrah's grin widened, her tone both playful and insistent. We shared another laugh, the tension easing as quickly as it had come.
I smirked, leaning back as I absentmindedly stirred my spoon in the bowl. "Another time, Farrah," I said, keeping my tone light but firm. "It's… complicated." I glanced up at her, catching the mix of disappointment and curiosity in her expression. "Trust me, it's a long story, and I wouldn't even know where to begin."
Farrah tilted her head, her grin softening into something more understanding. "Alright, fine. But don't think I'll forget," she said, wagging her spoon at me like a playful threat. "You owe me a good story."
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Yeah, yeah."
Farrah pulled out an old flip phone and handed it to me, a grin spreading across her face. "Here, give me your number. I like you. We should hang out more. Could use a partner to help me kick more scumbag ass."
I took the phone, holding it as if it were a foreign object. "I don't actually have a phone number… or a phone," I admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Never really needed one, and I couldn't afford it anyway. I've just always found who I was looking for."
Farrah's eyes lit up with a knowing smile. She reached into her bag and pulled out another flip phone, this one a bit more battered. "No worries," she said, pressing it into my hand. "You can have this one. I collect burner phones people toss. Most of them still have months' worth of minutes and texts left."
We exchanged numbers, and I slid the phone into my pocket. I looked up, curious. "Do I owe you anything for this?"
Farrah waved it off with a flick of her hand. "Nah, helping me kick ass earlier more than covered it." We shared a laugh, the bond between us feeling stronger with every moment.
She took another sip of her curry soup, her eyes glinting with curiosity as she studied me. "So, what's the deal? Are you living in the Vault now or what?"
I hesitated for a moment before nodding. "For now, yeah."
Farrah leaned in a bit closer, her eyes narrowing with a mix of curiosity and sincerity. "Come on, just tell me," she pressed, her voice almost pleading. "I promise I'll keep it to myself. I don't make friends down here often, and almost everyone's friendship here comes with a price." She paused, tilting her head, her expression softening. "Seriously, just give me a hint. Something. You can't blame me for being curious. You're like this mystery I can't figure out."
Her honesty made me think. I sighed, feeling a bit of the burden lift from talking to someone who seemed to genuinely care without an immediate agenda.
I took a deep breath and gave Farrah a brief rundown of my situation—how I ended up working for Oliver and the tangled mess of circumstances that led me here.
She burst out laughing, a sound that echoed in the quiet spot we'd found. "Oh man, that's rich," she said, shaking her head. "The ticket guy at the orchestra? He gave you that ticket to make sure he could fuck you later. He wanted to put you in debt with Oliver so he could use you. He'll show up at Oliver's place sooner or later, guaranteed. I've seen him pull that trick a few times."
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. It all fell into place—the manipulation, the control. Farrah's laughter faded as she saw my reaction. "Yeah, it's pretty messed up," she said, her tone softening.
I felt a mix of embarrassment and frustration, the truth stinging.
She gave me a sympathetic look. "Don't let it get you down. You're still kicking ass, and that's what matters."
I pushed my bowl of soup aside, suddenly losing my appetite. "I've got to go," I said, my voice apologetic. "I've got clients waiting, and I can't keep them hanging."
Farrah smirked, leaning back in her chair. "Hanging, huh?" She waggled her eyebrows, her grin widening as she waited for my reaction to the pun. I rolled my eyes and chuckled.
Farrah's face fell, her disappointment clear. "Aw, come on. I was just starting to enjoy hanging out with you. Call or text when you can chill again, alright? Make it soon! I'm bored out of my mind out here."
I gave her a small smile, touched by her genuine offer. "Definitely. I'll be in touch."
With that, I stood up and made my way back through the bustling corridors of the Vault, feeling the weight of my responsibilities pulling me away from the unexpected comfort I'd found with Farrah.