Chapter 1.
Over 'ere darlin'!"
Jasmine let out a tight smile in response to the Cockney man's summons.
"I'm afraid you're not in my section, but I can get you your waiter if you'd like?" Her tone was polite but cold. She'd stopped getting flustered by this kind of thing pretty early in the job.
"Nah! Don't worry about it dear. All I want is to have a chat." It's then that she noticed the slight smell of alcohol on him. Not enough to be drunk, but enough so that inhibitions were a thing of the past.
Another tight slightly harder smile was her only response.
"When do you get off?" He shone out a lopsided smile.
"Not for a while. My boyfriend is picking me up." Still polite, he hadn't done anything particularly rude, just irritating.
"Alright alright. I get the message. Have a nice night love." And with that, the burly Northerner was gone.
The old Jasmine would have told him to go fuck himself and gotten herself fired... Immediately for almost nothing. But she wasn't her anymore, not on the surface atleast. Instead she bottled up her anger and discomfort and let it simmer.
By the third man that night she was practically seething. Her answers more and more clipped. She found out why they were so rowdy near the end of her shift, as it turns out there was a football match between some Northern team and some London team going on that night.
Jasmine was not particularly interested in football or the intense rivalry between teams. To her it was just kicking a ball around at a net and then getting paid an inordinate amount of money. Hot take, I know. She was just like a sizeable chunk of the population. Mostly clueless, and largely apathetic towards it.
She guessed that is what most people would think of her passion too. Jasmine loved dancing. She had been doing it for the majority of her life and at 17 she was one of the best in London. She had won many competitive situations and was given a eighty scholarship to Urdang Academy, one of the most notorious dance schools in London. She couldn't go however, as the price was still rather ridiculous. Instead she went to an average sixth form, free and uninspired.
There was the full mix of students; people who only went because it was illegal not to; those who really wanted something from life; people like her - stuck ; and most interestingly of all, the Dessain brothers. They didn't all go to the sixth form, one had gone through and one was still in the adjoining highschool.
The Dessain brothers were somewhat of a black hole when it came to the law. They seemed untouchable. Four of them in total, they were the main reason for the state of the neighborhood - dangerous.
They formed a gang that dealed in everything if the rumours were to be believed. However, if Jasmine had learnt anything in life it's that very few things were to be trusted.
The two brothers that attended her sixth form very rarely actually showed up, and when they did... Boy were there issues. On her first day she saw them. Together they made quite the pair. Both incredibly gorgeous yet even then without knowing who they were, she knew to stay away.
They made her... Uncomfortable. By the end of the day her suspicions were confirmed when they started a fight that left the other three guys hospitalised.
She never found out what happened to start it but like magic the brothers never got into trouble. This was a recurring theme with them. They'd show up, cause shit and leave for around two weeks to a month. Repeat.
Lost in her thoughts, Jasmine hadn't noticed that her shift had gone over. She helped the kitchen staff clean up before signing out and getting her things.
The January weather was cold and dreary - the wind but and tore at any exposed skin like a rabid dog. Attacking her until she was thoroughly unhappy - further dampening her bad mood.
Her boots splashed through the snow melt making little "splooshes" as she stepped. It was by focusing on the sound of her footsteps that she didn't realise she'd missed her turn.
Looking up from wondering what she'd eat, Jasmine finally noticed that she had actually no idea where she was. The streets were like most in the area, badly lit and empty.
She was just about to turn around from the horror film waiting to happen when she heard a muffled cry followed by a masculine snarl.
Her ears pricked the followed the route of the sound until she rounded onto a side alley.
What she saw made her blood boil. A girl - no older than 15 - was shoved against the cold brick and there was an older man perhaps 40 trapping his hands over her mouth and groping her chest whilst his mouth made its disgusting course along her neck.
Muffled cries could be heard from the terrified girl and tears poured down her face. All she could see was red. It was not the man she saw but him. It was not a girl she saw but a younger version of herself.
Without really thinking or taking in the full scene, Jasmine acted.
