Page tries to find where the trash went

"Let's go." Page said, taking herself, and Jodie's searching mouth, toward the door.

The door led to a narrow hall used to get around easier for maintenance or employees. Currently there was a larger man walking slowly through it, just looking at his phone. His body alone took up most of the hall, and Page had to turn sideways to squeeze by him, afraid to catch his attention too much in case they were not supposed to be in there. If she paid more attention, they would notice he had a badge just like them, but she was in a rush. She needed those gloves.

Moving past him was fine, though her curve of her butt did brush against the side of his hip or love handles. Feeling her butt, only really covered by that thin stretched bodysuit, was not really expected. She felt a little too much. On the other side now, she saw a door that led presumably back to the Con, and a set of double doors that led to something far less lit. She opened that one.

"Could we get in trouble?" Jodie asked between when she managed to drink more juice.

"I don't think so," Page assured her. She looked down this wider area between the halls of the Con. Businesses probably attached themselves to the back here. There was an echo of the outside noise. There were many shelves, and rows of trash cans, recycling cans, and other random cleaning supplies. Large as the place was, it was well packed with things.

"There'd be a lot to sift through." Jodie said with a whistle. "Although, wait, that trashcan has the name of the cafe!"

Page rushed to the trash. She looked inside, but there were bags and bags in it. She put the juice on a nearby shelf, and Jodie groaned and had to strain her neck to reach the straw.

Page leaned over to sift for her gloves. Within moments, she found them, but there was also a gasp. She looked behind her just in time for the entire shelf to fall on her. Jodie apparently was too impatient and stood on the bottom shelf, causing the whole thing to tilt.

The metal shelf had a lot of hinges and joints, of which as Page tried to shimmy out of it, her back was thoroughly stuck. "Oh no, I'm so sorry." Jodie said and tried to lift the shelf. It was, however, rather heavy, and Jodie could not really get a grip with her gloves on. A lot of liquid, hopefully not trash (it smelled like cleaner or something) was spreading under Page.

"Hey!" They heard a voice yell from the far end. And employee, no doubt.

"Let's go!" Jodie urged, and Page complied, shifting the jacket from her shoulders and standing. It was cheap, and being arrested or trespassed from the Con was more prevalent in her mind than saving a cheaply made jacket. In fact, only one pocket really worked, which she had the mind to grab her wallet and phone as she moved. Still sliding from under her jacket, though, she felt that hole on her knee caught, and she could only hope it would not be too bad as she **** her way out. Freed, she and Jodie ran back to the door with yelling behind them. They cut into the other door back into the Con area. It was crowded and close quarters, and within seconds, Page felt they would be thoroughly lost in the crowd, even if someone was chasing them.

Page's front was apparently slightly lighter now than the rest of her. It was bleach, or some kind of cleaner with bleach, but that was hardly an issue, even if it would damage her clothes a bit. The bigger thing was now the lack of her jacket fully set in - in terms of Rogue cosplay it was not horrible, but she wanted the complete costume. Worse than all that, though, was the tear. She actually had no shoes. The hastily made boots, which were nothing more than layer spandex and nylon of the same yellow color with some belts to keep them on her knee, were gone, caught and slipped off. They were loose and badly made to begin with, though they looked good. Her left leg was still fully covered by the body suit, though her right was half gone, asymetrically showing her right calf, and had a large run that ran parallel the seam along the side of her leg, all the way up to her hip. It was hardly noticeable, but she could see and feel the slight bump of where her thong was on her hip under that run. That revelation alone caused her to flush slightly.

"Jodie, we should go back to the hotel." Page said. Jodie was beside her, grabbing her arm.

"Woah, your suit got messed up." Jodie commented, then touched Page's back. "You're missing like half your back."

"What?" Page turned, or tried, as if she could possibly see. "How much?"

"It's just like, I dunno, a hole torn into your back. Not that big. From here," Jodie touched Page's back not that low, "To here." She drew her hand up higher. It was maybe half a foot of a hole.

Page put her phone and wallet in Jodie's jacket. "Well, let's go back. Which way do we go? We cut through half the center."

Jodie shrugged. "That way?" She suggested and began to move left. Page realized then likely it was to the right, but would it even matter?