Deidara woke up in his shithole apartment. same as every evening. he worked two jobs. one in the early -ungodly early- morningshifts as a waiter at a restaurant, and in the evenings at an infamous Club Blood and Fire. no one really knew why the owner Orochimaru named it that, since everyone knew that said owner was a snake obsessed freak. but it was the best club in the city. And Orochimaru DID have good terms with the police. So there was hardly ever any rades there. Deidara in all honesty hated the club. he hated his perverted pedophile of a boss, he hated his life, he hated everything about it. except the dancing. that was the only reason why he really worked there aside for the money to pay for his flat. Deidara groaned as he got up. hitting his alarm clock and going straight to the shower. the water only ever blasted ice-cold on him, so it was pretty easy to wake up after that. skipping dinner like always, he just went straight to the falling apart and half-rotting dresser he owned and quickly pulled out his costume for that night. Tight black leather pants that clung to his lower half and had about a gazillion chaines hanging from the pockets down, but flared out slightly once they got to his knees, a black fishnet top that also clung to his upper half -and revealed much of his upper assets- but was loose around his arms, and a belt with a skull on it. for finishing touches, he added a leather dog collar and matching wrist bands. Orochimaru allowed his dancers and waiters at the club to usually pick out what they would wear the next night for "work"...but on occasion he would walts in without explanation, randomly pick something "drop dead Sssexy" as the snake-feind put it, and order said employee to wear that next time on penalty of being fired and band from the club. putting his hair up in his favorite style...a ponytail, then adding some thick eye-liner for the heck of it, he sauntered into the living room grabbing his favorite needle and headed over to the secret spot in the floor where he kept his "stash". putting some of the drug into the needle, then inserting it into his upper arm that was better hidden by his revealing shirt, he started to feel better. sure, the drugs would eventually kill him...but hell, he'd been out of rehab seven times in the past two years for attempted suicide thanks to his friend Sasori saving his butt. Deidara always knew that one day one or the other of them would winde up in the gutter somewhere, so he might as well go out with a bang as he said whenever one of the "doctors" asked him. Sasori got into almost as much trouble as Deidara, mainly because he did some of the more...interesting...jobs at the club, Deidara shuddered at the very thought of What Sasori did day in and day out just to stay fed. he sure was a hell of a lot richer than Deidara at the moment though because of it. Deidara's main emotion these days was Ampathy. He felt nothing. but he could hide it so well with his smile that the nineteen year old could fool just about the best actors. walking out the door, not bothering to lock, he lived in a pretty-shady but abandoned part of town anyway and even if someone DID break in there wouldn't be mutch to steal, his art and what few clothes he had for outside the club sure, but that was about it aside from a few personal things...like the ruby necklace he always wore no matter what shit he was in. his mother had given him that necklace on the day she died when he was about four. he'd never known who his father was. but that necklace saved him. he'd never give it up. the ruby was no bigger than a tear drop...but it was inlade in silver on a pure silver chain. Anyone who looked at it up close once they got past the beauty of the little brooch would think that it would shatter into a million pieces in an instant if touched, yet it had never once broken as far as he could remember. Not even with all of the harsh beatings all of his "foster families" and the entire orphanage seemed so fond to give the young man when he was little. Eventually, Deidara had come to work at the club when he was about twelve...and had somehow gotten out of the "foster homes" when he was about fifteen, from there on out, he'd lived in this cheap, going-to-hell apartment on the edge of town. Wearing himself out during the day at the restaurant and almost-whoring himself in a club he despized with all his passionate being just to pay for his flat and buy his "med's" as he referred them too. walking down the street, through a couple of alleys, and onto the main part of downtown that would lead him to the more "flashy" downtown area of the City where he worked during these lonely but beautiful hours of the night, Deidara couldn't help but marvel at the beautiful hoax of the entire city that seemed so alive. beyond the occasional flashing lights of a sign, beyond the glammor of a downtown area that knew no bounds, hookers worked the corners, enticing anyone who looked like they could pay enough into the dark corners, gamblers who snuck from they're homes in the dead of night chatted in small groups laughing about how much they'd made at a single card table or bitched about how much they had lost somewhere. Drug dealings were pretty much everywhere. this was no Vegas Deidara knew, it was still too dark to be, even with all the lights this part of the city seemed to have it's own darker nature at night that seemed to blossom out of it's false shell once the day was gone. finally reaching Club Blood as it was known as on the streets, Deidara didn't even hesitate as he walked past security, down another alley, and came to the back door that would take him inside. putting his perfectly practiced mask on, Deidara walked into the club...outwardly smiling..but inside wishing that he would die as he knew that it would be hell tonight.