Chapter 3

“Here you go, Bianca.” one of two security guards said, pressing down on Song’s shoulders, forcing him to take a seat between his two cohorts in the back office of The Hanger. “It’s a good thing we happened to be walking by.” The large man then rested both hands on Emmanuel’s shoulders, giving them a quick, but firm shake, making sure the only boy he thought would give him any actual trouble was thoroughly intimidated. “We came right in once we bumped into this one when he bolted out of here like the place was on fire.”

The auburn haired young woman, and manager of the store, Bianca Russo, handed the guards a little bag of sugar donuts with a smile. “Thanks for not taking them in, guys. I’m not sure these three understand how bad they’ve screwed up, but it’d be a shame for them to have to go to jail. They’re only eighteen.” she said, glancing over at one of the boy’s open wallets on her desk. “Practically babies. Of course they’ll need to be dealt with, but we can take care of that in house. No need to involve the police if we can help it.” She made sure the boys heard each and every word.

“Oh, for sure, hon, and thanks for the treats, by the way. You just let us know if you need anything else. I’ll give Marvin your best.”

“Please do.” Bianca’s dimpled smile won a lot of hearts, and the older guard was no exception.

The younger one bent over to meet the boys at eye level. “Listen punks, we’re going to be right outside for a little while just to make sure you don’t run off. I promise you, if we catch you trying to run, we’ll make sure the cops bury you, and there’ll be nothing this sweet lady can do to save you, understand?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Good.”

Bianca was twenty-six years old, two years removed from college, now managing the store where she’d worked since her junior year. A few years earlier, her childhood family-friend, Ariel Serra, also worked there with her. Life after graduation had not exactly gone according to plan. The decline of print fashion magazines, and the paltry wages that were paid to freelance photographers by their counterpart websites didn’t help. She had to settle for good enough for the time being so the top position in her store wasn’t the worst circumstance she could find herself in, but without a sense of fulfillment it was like time slowed to a crawl.

Bianca tried to spice things up a little with a new dye job, transforming her chocolate brown hair into a bold shade of red the last time her best friend Stephanie was in town for a visit, but it didn’t do the trick. She was stuck in the same repetitive cycle with no end in sight. The bored young woman was actually sort of happy when the three young hooligans had done what they did, breaking up the monotony of her day, though at the same time she was incredibly furious at the toxic level of entitlement displayed by the three teens.

It was barely June, and already swaths of wild teenagers destroyed her store nearly every day. They never hung up anything where they found it, they tried on a hundred things they were never going to purchase, and if anybody dared asked Bianca about the current hygiene of the dressing rooms, that’s what they’d be talking about for the next twenty minutes. She’d seen these three around the mall, and had a rough idea of what they were about.

She’d heard about the loud, demanding one who behaved as though he owned the mall and was a pain to deal with every time on the rare occasion he actually made a purchase. Then there was the blonde idiot who’d hit on anything with breast and a pulse. He proved himself to be just that as he was actually dumb enough to try and chat up a girl while he was supposed to be peeping as though she’d actually take it well. The third however was a bit of an enigma. She’d just heard a few hours earlier, chatting in the corridors with a few of the other managers, about the lanky kid who pretended to steal a t-shirt for some inexplicable reason. He also wasn’t in the dressing room with the other two little perverts, but wherever the other two went, he was there, so he couldn’t be completely innocent.

Just a few years prior, her friend Ariel went by the name Ari, and Ari was another young sex-criminal in training. When she found out Ari was selling not only pictures of her, but also dozens of other girls around campus in the privacy of the girls’ locker room, she was distraught. She was furious, and wanted him punished, but didn’t want to throw a hand grenade into the relationship between her parents, and their best friends, Ari’s. Fortunately Stephanie had a different punishment in mind, one she knew Ariel definitely learned a lot from. By the time they were done with him, he was basically a different person. It seemed like she was going to have to teach that lesson again, but fortunately for her, and unfortunately for the boys, she didn’t have much else going on, and she needed a project anyway.

“So you just heard the cops haven’t been called yet, but I can and will do so if I must. That’s up to you.” Bianca had done this a dozen times before. There was always some creepy old man trying to take a peak at a poor girl, usually old enough to be his granddaughter. The police would come, the man would be charged with a meager misdemeanor, which came with at most a year in jail. It was a punishment she believed fell short of what true justice demanded, but usually just a thousand dollar fine, hardly impacting the perpetrator beyond the inconvenience.

This knowledge frustrated her to no end, but with it, she knew she’d have to inflate the crime if she was to have her way with the hoodlums now at her mercy.

Bianca pulled the identification from the boy’s wallets. “You three ought to be glad that I talked that girl’s mother into not pressing charges. She was a minor after all.” She paused after adjusting the truth, her steel blue eyes taking the three teens in. “From what I see here, you three are all freshly eighteen. That makes your little adventure a felony. A third degree felony to be specific. I’m not a betting woman, but I’d guess that none of you want to spend your freshman year of college in the state penitentiary.”

The normally relaxed boy was feeling more than a little nervous after being corralled in the cramped room. “We’re actually still in high school.” Emer explained, eliciting a kick to the shin from Song.

“I see.” Bianca said with a smirk as she continued to work out the details of her plan. “Then I’d say you’re doubly screwed.’ She gave a small shrug of her shoulders, like it was no big deal to her. “I doubt your school is going to be too keen on letting three registered sex offenders return to finish and graduate after five years locked away. It isn’t all bad news though.” She paused for a bit of dramatic effect, wanting to raise their hopes just a little before taking them away. They’d need desperation to accept her lifeline. “Five years is a long time, but with good behavior I’m sure you will get out in two…two and a half, tops. If that doesn’t sound like good news to you then you might want to consider what even a year behind bars would be like.”

While she spoke, each boy behaved far differently from their companions. Emmanuel sat quietly, hearing every word, but his mind was off somewhere else as his thoughts turned to his parents, and that dark day years ago. Emer kept fidgeting, wetting his lips every few seconds, his mind not able to stay on one subject for long. In the blonde boy's mind his father was looking at him with disappointment, and then worse, his step mom with a look of pity and disgust. He had seen prisons before, at least on tv shows, and it terrified the boy. Meanwhile Song sat there in the uncomfortable chair with a smug grin on his face while he calmly held the gaze of the woman. The topic bored him and had already been dismissed as far as he was concerned. In the past he smoothed things over with the rent-a-cops using his bank account, and if it cost a little more money, he would end up getting his parents involved. That was unfortunate for the random white lady, and if she really pushed matters, well that was why his family had a lawyer on retainer.

Trying to stay in the present and not think about the fun she was going to have, Bianca shifted her weight before continuing with the real push. “The good news is, I managed to convince her you three could be redeemed given the right instruction. As such, she’d left it to me to see to your punishment. It’s your choice though. You can either take your chances with the police, or you can all agree to spend the rest of the summer going through my little training exercise. It’s got to be all three of you though. I’ll give you a minute to discuss it amongst yourselves.” She sat on the edge of her desk and crossed her legs confidently while she waited for the youths to play right into her hands.

“You can’t pin shit on me.” Song said calmly, just about done with this bitch. “Call the cops, call the national guard, or the army, or whoever. Why not call Old Navy while you are at it, I don’t give a shit. My family has the best lawyers in town. You fuck with me, and I’ll sue this shitty little shop out of existence.” In reality he was scared of how his mother would react, but still he was her precious baby. She wouldn’t let him go to jail.

“I don’t know about that.” Bianca replied, grinning wickedly. The flippant attitude irked her, but she wasn’t done playing her cards. Flipping the monitor on her computer around, showing the boys the security feed, a ten second loop of Emer getting slapped in the face while Song stood there laughing.

Eyes going wide, Emer peered over Song to his taller friend before looking back to the woman who held his fate in her hands. “Woah, I’m not like Manny! I wouldn’t survive one minute in jail. I’m too handsome!” Emer was so scared his knees were literally knocking together. It was to the point that both Song, and Emmanuel could hardly believe what they were seeing. The usually easygoing do-nothing was far from his typically unflappable self. “I’m not the convict type. My dad is gonna kill me! Let me do a uhh-a plea deal thing.”

“This isn’t Law and Order, and she’s not a cop, you nitwit!” Song snapped, his calm voice gone, unable to keep his composure any longer. Between the situation, and the dumb blonde’s antics, his face flushed red with rage.

“Bro, you said your parents have a good lawyer. It’ll be fine for you!” Emer then looked back up at Bianca like a lost puppy. “It was all Song’s idea.” He nodded several times rapidly like he was agreeing with his own statement.

“Not cool, bro!” Song made a point to emphasize Emer’s favorite word as he spit it back at him. “And how many times do I have to tell you!? It’s Jae! Call me fucking Jae!”

This outburst was enough to rouse Bianca from her seat. She stood and placed her hand between the two frantic teens' faces, all five red fingertips splayed open. “That’s enough of that, now. Calm down. Also, you can go ahead and forget about that whole Jae thing. It doesn’t suit my purposes. I need an answer, you three. If you agree to my terms then please stand up and wait by the wall over there.” She then turned her attention to Emmanuel, who’d been sitting quietly with his head in his hands. “What about you, stringbean? Does this sound like a good deal to you?”

Throughout all the commotion, Emmanuel hadn’t said a word. He sat frozen, thinking of the day his father went to Jail, and the chaos it reigned down on his mom. As he lay in his bed that night, not having yet processed the whole situation, he heard his mother out in the living room crying to herself all the way up until he finally managed to fall asleep. At the same time this scene played over and over again in his mind, he had to listen to Emer slandering him, and Song refusing to take things seriously. The troubled youth knew he couldn’t hurt his mother like that, and continue to live with himself. She’d be left alone in that empty apartment, and who knew what would become of her. “Ok, I’m in.” He stood up and found a spot against the wall.

“Are you kidding me?” Song practically hissed, he was so pissed. He couldn’t believe the brute had the gall to defy him, especially when so much was on the line.

“Just shut up, Song. For once in your life shut up.” Emmanuel was deathly calm, his words cutting into the Asian boy despite their low volume, showing just how serious his words were. “I do shit I don’t want to do all the time for you, but I can’t go to jail.”

Without having to be asked, Emer jumped up, and found a spot right beside Manny. To him the deal was a no-brainer. Anything was better than prison.

Ecstatic with how easily everything seemed to be falling into place, Bianca turned her attention back to the most vocal detractor. “Looks like it’s up to you…Song.”

The boy of Korean descent crossed his arms defiantly, and turned his pert little nose up to the ceiling. Trying to regain control of his emotions after the outburst, Song scrunched his face. His focus allowed his normal smug grin to return as he thought about his family's lawyer suing her and the store for false imprisonment. His devious mind was already formulating a plan. He’d just say he thought he was in the boys dressing room. The help might have momentarily moved against their leader, something they would regret later, but he knew before anything went to court that he’d have them back in line.

“C’mon, dude!” Emer pleaded with his friend. “Just like…be cool!”

Emmanuel stepped forward, and leaned down to meet the stubborn boy’s uncaring gaze, standing much closer than he knew Song was comfortable with. “Do you really think you could weather the storm with the police once they find out about what you were selling all last year at school?”

“You wouldn’t!?” Song’s soft voice sounded hoarse. He was so angry that tears started forming in the corners of his eyes. One look at Emmanuel’s expression told him that he would, completely ruining his schemes to take the woman down a peg or two.

“Oh, the plot thickens.” Bianca mused while she tapped her fingers together giddily like a cartoon villain as she watched the soap opera unfolding before her.

Song searched the faces of everyone else, trying to find a weakness to attack, or an exploit to take advantage of, but for once he couldn’t even dream of a way out of this. Finally relenting, he looked Bianca in the eye, and said, “Fine, we’ll take the deal.” He stormed over and stood with the other two boys, refusing to so much as even glance at anyone else while he stewed in his little pity party. With a hateful thousand yard stare locked to the corner of the room, he asked, “What did you have in mind?”

Bianca had done nothing to hide her glee throughout the culprit’s deliberations, and once she knew they were in her clutches, her countenance was beaming with joy. It appeared she’d have an exciting few months to look forward to.

“Well…” She clapped her hands together one time to accentuate her point. “...since you like to peep in on girls so much, I’ve decided to help you discover what you’ve been missing. You poor things. After all, why else would you do that? You must want to explore your feminine sides. I mean, if that wasn’t the case then you’d have to just be plain ole perverts, and perverts get the cops called, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Huh? Pervert jail?”

Song’s thousand yard stare was interrupted when he glared at his moronic companion. ‘Of course Emer is befuddled.’ Song thought, admitting to himself that he was too, but he wasn’t about to let anyone know that. Instead he maintained a stern face, making sure everyone was aware of just how unhappy he was.

Bianca explained, “You want to know what it’s like for girls, so you’re going to be girls. I’m going to help you with your shopping while you enjoy being pampered, getting makeovers at Rim Beauty. It’s a cute little boutique salon in the mall, very upscale. Now, say thank you.” she said, not connecting the store's name with Song’s surname.

“Absolutely not!” Song reacted like she’d just suggested he go swimming in a portable toilet.

“Dude, calm down.” Emer said. He might not have been the sharpest tool in the shed, but he was smart enough to know Bianca was serious. “You wear a dress. You wear some makeup. What’s the big deal? I’d rather do that than go to jail. Quit being a jerk and don’t ruin this for us. If the three of us have to be girls then we’re gonna be girls.”

“Let me correct you, there” Bianca said, cutting him off. She pointed to Emmanuel and said, “That one isn’t getting off scot free, but he’s off the hook for this part of our deal. He wasn’t in the dressing room, and didn’t **** a naked minor, ergo he gets a more lenient sentence. He’s only an accessory. It’s just you two, but he’ll still go to jail, the same as you, if you don’t agree. So what’s it going to be, Song? You do want to find out what life is like for a girl, don’t you? That’s the last time I’m going to ask that question. I’m going to need to hear an answer in five…four…three…t-”

“Okay, fine.” Song fumed.

“That’s not what I asked for. When someone offers to help you with something it’s only ladylike to thank them. What do we say, girls?”

“Thanks.” Song mumbled.

“Huh?” Emer was eager to please, but befuddled, like a dog in training desperately trying to figure out which trick earned the treat. “Oh, Thank you!” He sounded like the kids in R.O.T.C.

With an exaggerated frown she playfully chastised her new **** proteges. “We’re going to have to try again. Try to act like the young ladies you are this time. Clearly, and sweetly. Be specific, and gracious. Now say, thank you for teaching us to be young ladies, Miss Bianca.”

Song briefly thought about snapping again, but a stern glare from his tormentor told him she meant business. The two boys meekly said in almost perfect unison, “Thank you for teaching us to be young ladies, Miss Bianca.”

“Excellent, girls! Shall we get going? If you’re good, you’ll get your phones back before it’s time to go home.”

For the first time since she’d watched Ariel get proposed to by her ex-boyfriend, and that ring was slipped on her finger, Bianca was thrilled. She was already formulating the kind of girls her new toys were going to be. The blonde was well past halfway to bimbo already, really just needing a pretty coat of paint and big enough hair to make up for what she lacked in brains. The little Korean girl served resting bitch face like it was her job, so perhaps she could be the hot and cold temptress type. The possibilities were endless.

“Come along, Emmanuel. I’m going to need your help picking out some things for your little girlfriends.” She sized up the quiet youth one more time. All the evidence said that he wasn’t the same kind of ignorant, selfish asshole as his friends. As best she could tell by the state of his pants, shoes, and the shirt that he ‘stole’, he probably only hung out with them because Song’s money was a means to an end. Still, she thought if you profited from the devil you were culpable. He’d have to play his part in Bianca’s new little game, but if he did as he was told, he was probably going to enjoy himself. It could even be good for him. She’d start by giving him a job, and some new clothes. Bianca told herself all this, but truthfully it boiled down to one simple desire. She was going to enjoy having two new Barbies to play with, but this time she also really wanted a Ken doll.