Charleston Cobblestone

Stiletto heels smacked the floor of the club as the clicking and clacking emerged into the humid streets of Charleston, South Carolina. Charleston at this time of year was always hot, but the streets of the town felt suffocating when one would exit the cool air-conditioned bars in the night. The city was its own small inferno tonight, the gothic architecture that aligned the streets added a haunting feel to her exit. The woman was tall and enigmatic; she pulled attention as she walked through the club. Her image was lit up through the dim flashes of phone screens, and her actual presence seemed to be alarming to people surrounding her. Zilla’s heartbeat thudded as a stranger slammed into her and spilled his drink on her. She turned around, looking at him wide-eyed and siren-like. The bass of the music inside continued to thud.

“Get out of my way!” She shoved. The man felt backwards, mumbling curses under his breath as she stomped off. She could feel the stranger's eyes on her, but she marched forward, ignoring it as it was lower on her list of concerns tonight.

“Zee, get back here!” As Zilla heard the voice call her, she continued shoving through groups of sorority girls, frat boys, and grown men that had a snakish air to them. It was to her dismay that the people she surrounded herself with were akin to rotting fruit.

“Zilla, what is wrong with you?!” The male voice chastised loudly across the street. His eyes were hysterical while his face looked frustrated and stern. Zilla had assumed he would be angry, that was the point after all. The anger in him made her a little happy, as though she regained some power back from her desperately wanting his attention. She felt as if her life was falling out from under her; if she could hold onto something, it would be comforting.

“Oh?” She paused and smiled cheekily. “What have I done?” The music roared aggressively in the background. The street smelled of alcohol and urine, a scent that became even stronger in the heat wave. The heat and the emotional intensity made the situation all the more headache-inducing, yet she could not rip herself away, get in a cab, and escape home. No, she was imprisoned here with him.

“You sent this to Alison!” Max shoved his flip phone in her face. He always had to compensate for something, and when his self-image was threatened, he grew even more petulant. His insecurity and selfishness were visible to everyone, but most chose to ignore it on their first encounter due to his money and influence. His good points had always been outshone by the bad; it was only right for the unsuspecting girl who was being manipulated to know. Zilla believed in her own mind that this could justify her.

Zilla looked at the picture of the two. It was a short video of her and Max sent to Alison. Though not explicit, the video was proof enough of their relationship. Zilla had partially done this out of spite, knowing he had been blackmailed and was now under her thumb.

“Why wouldn’t I?” she stated nonchalantly. If her pride could tower over him anymore, he would be eclipsed in darkness, her smile full of venom.

“She knows I was with you!” As he yells this, he looks upset, but she couldn’t be sure if it was the denial of another prospect or genuine distress. He all too often exaggerated his truths or blew smoke to make someone believe him. He was a spoiled child, so this was of no surprise to her. He threw tantrums when he had no other dignified means of getting what he wanted.

“You made that decision, though, not her.” Max narrowed his eyes and snorted at the comment from the woman in front of him.

“Zilla, can you shut up?!” His voice is hoarse as he yells, attracting the attention of other people passing by, a man in a group of several others looks over with a threatening and concerned glare. The scolding was alerting those outside the conversation. Zilla looked at him in shock. Nothing in her had prepared him that he would raise his voice with her. The level of disrespect it exhibited gave her pangs of poison in her stomach.

“No actually. I don’t want to. You don’t get to have control over what I send, wear, say-”

“You ruined what I had with her-”

“I did?” Max had no self-awareness. The cold wind blew her hair out of the way. She no longer felt desirable and beautiful but like an insane monster being pulled out of a cell. “Max, you are the one who sleeps with multiple women, I don’t make that choice for you.”

“She’s gonna be so mad at me.” He laments. He begins to bury his head in his hands, if she had no idea what he was crying over, she might actually pity him.

“I’m mad at you!” Zilla yells at him, garnering the attention from the group across the street once again. Her hands flail and move with this statement, one settling on her face to wipe tears away in a nonchalant way. Trying to avoid any more feelings of guttural depravity and patheticness.

“We were never serious!” He yells back, claiming innocence as usual. Zilla stared at him with her jaw agape as she breathed, trying to suppress her unveiled rage.

“I know, but-”

“But what?!” He yelled back, immediately taking back control. Zilla could feel the words crawl up her throat like black sludge as she snarled at him, “Alison didn’t know and wasn’t supposed to.”

”I find it hard to believe a girl like that would be with...” Zilla pauses, “y’know,” spills out. The words land on the pavement like a bag of scattered marbles, despite it being some of the most dull and incomplete in the conversation.

“Someone like me!?” Max was angry. Zilla stared at him, part of her wondered if she would make it out of this situation alive. He was breathing heavily, his eyes were bloodshot, and his fist was clenched.