PRIVATE When it rains, you can drown or be baptized

[Lace]

Three months ago...​

She picked at the bruise blooming out from beneath her skirt, pressing her thumb into the purpling skin. That was her one weak point, having skin that bruised. The teenager pulled at the hem as someone walked by. It was just instinct to hide when Lena was sitting in the school office, an awkwardness that kept her eyes cast down.

"Again, Lena?"

A new shadow loomed over her, causing Lena to look up into her mother's eyes. Blue eyes, not like hers. There was a lot of her mom she wasn't like anymore. Didn't seem to matter how much they had in common, Mom was quick to find what wasn't.

"It's not my fault, Mom," she said dully. Lena was sure it wasn't, not this time. When she had been in trouble in the past, it was for something obvious. Like calling an aho teacher an aho, or telling Chærl'oh'tt there wasn't any of the dye she was allergic to in the new batch of Cirrus Cola Blood Breeze in the soda machines. Lena actually did feel a little bad about that last one, it had been necessary to help keep up her rankings.

Besides, Lotte could afford to miss an exam or two, most of her peers could. Not her, not even how high she stood in the rankings. She needed to be higher, at the top if she could, to make colleges look twice at her. Lena's parents didn't have the money for any school like Lotte's or a guaranteed job at the company paved way for her. If she wasn't the best, there would be no chance at getting out of this shithole of a town.

"We'll see," came Mom's terse reply. Great, she was in one of her no-nonsense moods. The kind of mood that made Lena want to be anywhere else, made all the worse by the fact that it was still the middle of the school day. Coupled with the next reminder her mom made. "Where's your father?"

Lena could only shrug. "I don't know. I called Dad, but it—"
"—went straight to messages. That's your father these days..."

"He's trying, Mom." Or he wanted to, Lena knew. She also knew he was probably sitting on the couch at home, off from work early again. By this time, he'd be an hour deep into the haze that kept him from the world around him. It kept him from feeling pain, too. That was the silver lining, the reason that Lena defended him. She might have been far more bitter if he was really as selfish as he seemed.

"If he was really trying, he would be here. Then I wouldn't have to lose prime tip hours." And naturally, Mom never missed a chance to bring that up. How she was the good parent, how she worked two jobs and managed her landlord's Netpage on weekends so they could stay afloat. Lena loved her mom, especially on days when they had time to spend together, but she still felt like crawling out of her skin every time Mom brought him up.

This wasn't the way the teenager wanted to spend time with her mom either. Lena wasn't the kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar today. She had no earthly idea what caused her summons to the office, nor happy that it had come during Mr. Leski's class. He was notorious for handing out extra work to make up for missed class time, even an ill-timed bathroom run. Maybe that's why Lena was feeling particularly annoyed right now, not that her mom's bitter energy was helping things. "I said it wasn't my fault!"

"And I said we'll see."

Lena blew out her breath and found someplace else to look, just in time to avoid the rebuke when the secretary looked up from her desk to call on her mom. "Mrs. Bauer? The—"
"—Ms. Thompson."
"Mrs. Thompson, I apologize for the wait. The Deputy Headmaster is ready to see both of you now."

---

"So does that mean I'll miss prom?"

The gentle hum of the car did nothing to allay Lena's frustration. Well, less frustration and more abject rage. The vehicle was far too small and thin-walled for her to let it out, and not be grounded for three months thereafter as well. It didn't mean Lena wasn't thinking about making a fist-sized hold in the dashboard though. She could do it, her hand might need stitches but she wouldn't break a single bone, that much was guaranteed. The only debate in her head was whether it would make her feel good enough to be worth the trouble.

"Since it's not until your senior year, I think that's likely, sweetheart." Mom was being awfully nice now after the talk with the Deputy Headmaster. Not even the Headmaster, Westbrook Prep Academy was far too esteemed to let him dirty his hands with something so uncouth as money matters. For once, it wasn't Lena in trouble, and for once she wished it was. That would have made all of this simpler, then she could be angry at herself instead of her circumstances.

Circumstances that her parents could no longer fix.

"So I have to go to South? With all the dorphers and freaks?" That was worse than being in trouble. Worse, even, than messing up her hand. And far worse was the stark reality that nobody, not even the valedictorian, got looked at by colleges if they graduated from South City High School. "You might as well just crash the car now, my life is over!"

"LENA!" The car swerved just a little as it filled with her mom's thundering cry, almost making Lena smile from the satisfaction. It would take a lot more than that to make her smile right now, probably ever. Nor did she need her mom's worldly perspective right now. Probably never on that one, which wouldn't save her from having to hear it either. "This is just a setback, those happen in life. Lord knows you're already familiar, and you came through that with your head still attached. I know this isn't what you asked for, none of us asked for your father's illness or the struggles with our family. If I could sell everything I have to pay for your school, I would, Lena you're that important to me. It hurts me so much that I can't. But right now, we need to keep our heads attached and our eyes forward. What's the goal, Lena? Two years? You can do two years at South, and yes, you will find more kids there than the dorphers and freaks. You might even make it your own, think about how far ahead you will be in your studies. They've got no chance for valedictorian once you join them. You can do this, Lena."

Now it was her turn to be the bitter one. "And then what?"

There was a pause, and a long breath, before her mom answered. "And then, life will happen. As it does to all of us, sweetheart."

No, life didn't happen to other kids like it did to Lena. Not to Lotte or the rest of Westbrook Prep, kids of Corporate execs and climbers. They were destined for greatness, in Night City and beyond. As the car sped through the roads of Night City, heading for the quant, multi-tiered complex she called home on nights with her mom, Lena knew one thing for certain.

This was her life now, and it sucked.

 

[Lace]

Two months ago...​

The lights were off again when she got there. Lena had to put down her coat and bag first, fumbling in the dark for the light controls. The coat was already dripping over the floor and her bag from school. The tablet inside it could have offered what she needed, illuminating the path and the switches that seemed to be eternally in the wrong place. It was all wrong, this condo instead of their house in North Oaks, feeling too much like a guest in her own home, and not knowing whether the lights would come on when she pushed the button.

Lena was greeted brightly by the snap of light when her finger reached the controls, finding that much by muscle memory. Her shins bore a fading red mark from the box she had walked into on her way over, and she bent down to examine it. Something from her dad's work it seemed, she could read the Dynalar label along with the clear markings for confidentiality. Her interest faded after that, searching the rest of the room for its would-be occupant instead.

She found Dad in the kitchen instead of the living room, nursing the last drop in a glass of water. Lena hoped it had been water anyway, judging by the empty pharmacy bottle next to it. Her eyes moved on to his form, not needing to examine the bottle to know it wouldn't have his name on it. For once, he greeted her first, a groggy smile on his face as if they were meeting in the morning rather than this dreary afternoon of rain. "Oh hi, Lena. When did you get home?"

"Just now, Dad." Lena hated these days, the ones where she had to talk to her dad as if he were a child. What if something incredible had happened at school, or something else to make her miserable, and she needed to share it with someone she could trust to give advice? That was her dad, she needed her dad sometimes, still. Not whatever this was, sitting at the kitchen table wearing his face. "What're you doing sitting in the dark?"

"It's not that dark out." He followed her gaze and looked, really looked for what might have been the first time since Lena arrived home. "Well, it wasn't just a minute ago. I must have just closed my eyes for a second."

It had been raining since just after noon, but Lena refrained from saying that. She refrained from saying a lot lately, trying to put his odd statement out of her mind. The fridge door opened at her touch, revealing its paltry contents. "Where's all the food?"

"I meant to go shopping, here. Thought about going today after work, and then the morning just got so hard, Lena." Hard meant something very different to the both of them, but that was another thing she was refraining from saying. He must have come home early and tried to bring it with him, explaining the boxes in the living room. "I just sat down to give the ol' dogs a rest, and then I was going to go."

When he put his feet up on the table, Lena did actually break into a smile. She used to bark at them when Dad said that about his feet, but that was when she was a little girl. They spent a lot of time together then, when she would play the good little girl and not put undue strain on her bones. He seemed like the strongest person in the world to her then, now it was just another of their roles that had reversed, one that had nothing to do with the metal lace reinforcing the structure of her bones. For one sweet moment, Lena could enjoy her dad being Dad again.

"If you give me some eddies, I'll go pick some stuff up for dinner." She cast a gaze around the kitchen, a stark contrast to the spic and span place kept by Mom. Even working more hours than Lena thought there were in a week, her mom always had time to keep their place fastidiously neat. It could be a real drag sometimes, and part of the reason she often yearned to escape here to her dad's. Here she didn't have to drop everything at a moment's notice to clean or attend to whatever other agenda item of Mom's that required her attention. Here, where the unfortunate kitchen looked worse than a gutter dump, turned out to be far from the escape she'd dreamt of in school this week.

"I...might be a little short this week." Dad looked into his glass as he said it, no doubt in search of all the scattered molecules that used to make up the visible water droplets. Without his ocular implant, Lena was skeptical of his chances. "I know it's not right to ask this of you, kiddo, but maybe you can float me some for today? You'll have it back, next deposit!

She bent down to look at him through the glass, peering up as if, for once, he was the bigger man again. Whether it was the glass itself or the glaze in his one real eye that made his face look odd, she couldn't know. "What happened to the hundred I gave you last week?"

The hundred she'd asked Mom for, in fact. Lately, she had turned out to be the supportive one, always willing to lend time or money despite working so much. She would have been so pissed to learn that Lena had lent it to Dad.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Maddie-Bear. I forgot that one came from you!" He looked so contrite she could actually believe him. Dad's memory wasn't all it was cracked up to be these days, after all. "They went toward a good cause, I promise! There's this new formulation of the meds, very experimental stuff, see..."

Lena glanced at the bottle on the table. He followed her gaze, hesitating for just a second. The second was enough for her to close the distance, she was pretty light on her feet with all her years of dance and cheer. Her hands closed around the bottle just as his did, gripping them both in her smaller fingers.

Smaller, but not weaker.

"Lena, stop," he started, and it felt wrong to hear the pleading in his voice. He could have been stern for once, he should have gotten angry at her. Mom would have, for daring to touch her things. Dad didn't get angry or defensive, just sad. "These are very experimental, I've been entrusted with the highest confidentiality to be able to take part."

"Cut it out, Dad, I know they're not yours." She squeezed, real flesh gripping his hand but backed up by the steel core within them, flexing muscles that martial arts had trained her to use within measure. Lena was straying just a little bit outside of that right now.

"Ow! Maddie-Bear, please let go, you're hurting me"

And you're hurting me, Lena wanted to say back. Neither of them were ready for that conversation. What she was read for, right now anyway, was for her dad to stop lying for once. "Then tell me whose meds those are. They're not yours, and you didn't get them from the doctor, so what's the skinny?"

"I can tell you if you just let—ow, ow, OKAY!" she could see the sweat starting to form on his brow, and Lena almost let up. "Enough already, Lena!"

Stunned for a moment, she let go, watching silently as her dad nursed his fingers. They were nearly white to the knuckles, and she could already see yellow starting to seep in first for color. Bruising tomorrow, Lena knew all too well, diving into the freezer and turning back with a bag of something cold; her own act of contrition. "Dad, I...I guess I forgot my own strength."

He took the peace offering from her, and that at least made her glad. The icy balm cooled the tensions between them, Dad didn't even push back against her own lie. This time, when he opened his mouth, he seemed finally ready to be truthful for once.

As it turned out, Lena might have wished to stay blissfully ignorant.

 

[Lace]

Two months ago...​

A few turns took Lena from the quiet, sleepy Charter Hills to a neighborhood that could have passed for parts of Heywood. Only the signs in Spanish, looming large above her head, told the difference to the mostly-sheltered teen. Or once she had been, there wasn't much of shelter she could name right now. Her parents could offer a roof, food —when Dad could focus on life that is, but that was about it. Lena didn't think her sheltered classmates at Westbrook Prep would ever find themselves on the prowl this far from their homes.

The neighborhood was like Heywood in a lot of ways, almost enough to keep Lena from feeling the knot bundling up in her stomach. People kept to themselves, they passed her in cars and on foot as if she was just another one of them. As if she wasn't wearing a sweater over her outfit from school still, wearing her privilege like a banner. When she felt a shiver in her spine, her first instinct was to move faster; not for warmth but just to ensure she wouldn't lose her nerve.

She'd had the sense to leave her bag at home, after memorizing the address and directions that is. The helmet she'd had to leave on the bike itself. At least it wasn't the shiny mopeds or the tricked out rides that Westbrook's parents bought their kids, those would have been a loud target down here. It was the best her parents could afford though, with Dad chipping in for the occasion of her birthday. She left it parked a few blocks away with a group of other cars, hoping that meant what it did in Heywood. No one else in Westbrook had to think that hard about parking spaces.

It was hard to miss the place, and she could hear it before she spotted the steps leading up. The tagged walls almost looked cheery with their bright colors and designs, giving her some courage as she bounded up the stairs. They creaked under her weight but held anyway, depositing her on the rooftop terrace. The music was louder now, joined with laughter and an easy chatter that faded when she approached the pair sitting in plastic deck chairs. Lena didn't get close before a third appeared from the shadows where she hadn't seen him before.

"What's your business?"

His size and demeanor spelled it out for her, she wasn't welcome. It was something Lena had tried telling herself since she turned into Santo Domingo. Now that someone else had the same thought in mind, her feet planted flat on the rooftop's concrete. Unmoving, not until there were answers anyway. "I just came here to talk."

The big man's eyes narrowed, boring through her. He could have flicked her away like an ant, but thankfully he only spoke. "Talk about what?"

It was now or never.

"About how you're going to fix what you broke." That sounded like a line from an old movie, better than anything that could have come out of her mouth alone. Lena wasn't about to take it back, not even when a laugh came from the chairs.

"Who's the little chica so far from home?"

The big man didn't react at the question or take his eyes off Lena to shout back, "Says she wants to talk. Apparently we broke something of hers."

"Come here and let me get a look at you." Lena's path was suddenly clear as the big man stepped aside, letting her see the speaker in the white bucket chair. He was the scrawnier of the two, the she hadn't expected to be in charge. "You've got my interest, it's usually my man Encarlo here who's accused of breaking things." He talked with his hands, gesturing to the bodyguard as he named him. "Hearts, mostly." He paused and mused on the quip for a moment, then added. "Sometimes fingers."

I'd like to see you try, Lena thought to herself, saying nothing of the sort as she stepped forward. Her heart thudded in every step, and she was fairly sure her stomach had left her body entirely when she wasn't paying attention. All that was there was a gaping hole now, nipping at the rest of her insides to eat the rest of her as well. Lena stopped in front of a low fire burning in the raised brass bowl between the chairs, feeling none of its warmth. "You're the one who sells things that break people. People like my dad, who barely even exists now thanks to you."

The boss spread his hands, "And why is this my problem? To me, you barely exist."

"These are yours, aren't they?" Lena withdrew the bottle from her sweater pocket, the one she had taken from Dad when he wasn't paying attention. Not that it was a very difficult feat in the first place. She tossed them to the scrawny man, but it was the other one of the pair who caught it. His assistant, or secretary maybe. Lena tried not to smirk at the thought, only now recognizing that she felt more courage now than she had in the school office a month ago. "It's your fault, so it's your job to make it right."

He waited until his helper nodded before chuckling. "My fault? It's not my fault your old man can't handle his shit, chica. Who's your daddy, anyway?"

"Felix Bauer," she told him.

"Felix, Felix, Felix...oh yes, un caballero encantador! What a story, I truly feel for all the hardship he's been through. He always seems to have more eddies than he knows what to do with these days," the man goaded, opening his mouth with a predator's smile. "And I am always happy to help with that particular problem. You see," he leaned forward, "I am in the business of helping people, not breaking them. I think you have the wrong hombre."

"I don't think so," she said flatly. Lena felt warm again, finally, heat rising from under her collar. These men happily took advantage of people like her dad, and then laughed about it to her face. They were nothing but bullies, grown men who had never grown up. If Lena could have caught this man alone somewhere, maybe she could have taken him and had her revenge. With the three of them, especially with the size of that bodyguard, she stood no chance. "You think you're untouchable, but you're not. Someday, I'm going to make you pay back every eddie you took from my dad."

The chorus of laughter had three parts this time, with even Encarlo the bodyguard joining in. When the boss straightened up, the grew silent for him, always deferring to his lead. "You got guts, chica. But guts only get you so far in life. What exactly do you think you can do to me?"

"I'll think of something." Even as she said it, Lena knew how hollow the words sounded. Her teeth ground on each other, pushing her jaw out in determination.

None of that seemed to faze the boss, who just leaned back in his plastic throne. "You gonna think of it...while taking your math test?"

The hole in her belly reached for her throat, squeezing it just enough to hold her voice back. Lena tried to take a step back, finding herself against Encarlo's large belly instead. Suddenly, she was realizing just how much trouble her mouth could get her into.

"Felix never did say he had a daughter. I would have asked about you, how your grades are at that fancy school of yours."

She swallowed, finding her mouth had gone dry. "What does that matter?"

"It matters a lot. See, the people in my community, we're like family." Lena's heart went next, climbing up into her throat to escape the hole. But nothing could escape the growing maw of her insides, and she felt the big hands on her shoulders the second her feet tried to move. "Family is supposed to care about each other, we share our struggles, chica. That's the first thing you didn't understand when you stepped onto my roof."

"If you care so much, then why do you sell things that hurt people?" Lena asked, her voice wavering more than she'd like now. Nonetheless, she genuinely wanted to know. She didn't think it would make the man re-think his position, as nice as that would have been. She dug a little more, since it wouldn't make a difference anyway. "Or do you only hurt people who aren't your 'family'?"

"Oh, Felix is a lot like family to me, too." He stood up, and for the first time Lena saw him eye to eye. From the distance between them, it was harder to tell he was only a little taller than she was. "I told you before, I'm in the business of helping people. Felix came to me in pain and I helped take it away from him. And now you come to me demanding that I stop. As much as it wounds me to cut off family, I can see that you care a lot about him, too. So maybe we can help each other out here."

Lena twisted her shoulders, but the big man only clamped down harder. It actually hurt now. She was used to pain, and sitting still. What she wasn't used to was letting someone corner her, not anymore. "I'm not going to be your girlfriend."

The boss laughed alone that time, echoing just the same. He stepped around the fire, getting close enough so she could smell his beer-ridden breath. "There's not enough of you to satisfy me, chica. No, I like your moxie, you got steel for cojones. Better than that, you got access to that fancy school of yours."

Her eyes widened as she realized what the man was really asking of her. The words came out like spittle, though the bitter taste remained in her mouth. "I'm not dealing for you, either."

"Why not? I bet your school's full of kids with cash to burn, isn't it? And I bet they're wasting it on all the good things poor daddy won't buy for you, am I right?"

Lena didn't answer, only grinding her teeth tighter.

"Open this door for me, and you'll get what you came here for. Or don't, and hope your daddy makes it through another week"

 

[Lace]

One month ago...​

The one free period she had managed to arrange this semester was giving her a chance to keep up with all her assignments. There was an exam next week in Digital Literacy, and the netpage project due two days before that. Only those would have to wait for this weekend to be started, she was spending it at her mom's so she'd have time to herself. Today's assignment was due in an hour, a short dossier on each executive at a corp of her choice.

Choosing Dynalar had been her way to make the work go faster, it wasn't much more than that.

"You're Lace, aren't you?"

Lace. She went by that more now. It helped make things easier, between home and whatever it was she called her excursions to east side.

Lace looked up at the boy who had climbed up to her row in the bleachers. He was in the same gym uniform as the rest of the class below her, working through serving drills for the school-appropriate version of murderball. His skin looked natural, with sweat all over, betraying none of the lines or mods that the really good kids had. It was the chromed-up ones who were really flying through the drills.

"Yeah, and you're Colon?" She asked, and her face split in a kind of mildly-apologetic grimace.

He laughed a little at that, and for a moment Lace wondered if it was her he was laughing at. She glanced back at her screen for a moment, feeling the urge to get back to her assignment before he explained. "Collin actually, my parents just have a warped sense of humor about spelling."

"Oh, I didn't know," she said to her screen. Then Lace picked up her bag from the seat next to her so Collin —or Colon or however it was spelled— could sit down. "I think I'd be pretty pissed if my parents named me after a body part."

Collin took the hint, plunking down into the barely-contoured plastic arena seating next to her. "So they named you after a shoe part, instead?"

"What?" Now it was Lace's turn to laugh, and she glanced over with a little shake in her head. "Yeah, no, Lace is just a nickname. Because..." She didn't have time to explain it all over again to someone who didn't know. Plus, some people got weird when they first learned about her implants, it wasn't like the typical chrome that a kid at Westbrook Prep would sport. "...long story, really. You didn't go to Edgewood Juniors, did you?"

Collin shook his head, his shaggy hair spraying little droplets of sweat everywhere. "No, we actually moved here last year. My mom got a promotion with Arasaka, and it was either here or Japan."

"Good choice," she said, deciding not to be bothered by the canine-like behavior next to her.

"Yeah, I thought so." Collin seemed nice enough, for someone Lace had only just met beyond hearing his name. She was pretty sure he had tried out for the actual murderball team, though. "Still don't know as many people yet, and most everyone else are all chooms for life so far."

No wonder he hadn't made it.

Lace felt a sudden sense of irony at the dynamic between them. In a few months, it would be her in the role of the new kid, trying to break into the cliques and in-crowds. The prospect thrilled her even less than her assignment could.

She shrugged and looked at her screen again, as if it could have written more of the dossiers on its own. "They get like that." Lace had about as much luck with her assignment as Collin had with the cliques. And she'd had enough bad luck with the cliques to last her a lifetime, she wasn't exactly looking for more. "It's not all bad, though, looking in on it from out here. Makes you think about how silly it all is, you know?"

"That's true." There, that seemed to placate the boy. Now, if she could send him away, she had a chance to finish her assignment in time. No luck in that department either, Collin just had to open his mouth again. "Anyway, so I heard you help people sometimes."

Lace turned to look at Collin, studying him up and down. He wasn't sitting by her to ask if she'd open a jar for him, so it had to be the other thing people wanted from her lately. The part she actually hated playing. "Sometimes. Help with what?"

"Well, I got invited to a party this weekend, and I don't want to be the only one who shows up empty-handed, right?" Collin's ears almost seemed to perk up at the sound of his own voice, and she could hear it too. This was his chance to get in, he couldn't blow it. Lace had all the power in her hands, enough to open the door to the next generation of Westbrook Prep...or slam it in his face forever.

This was why she really hated this part.

"Oh, that kind of help." He wanted drugs, naturally. Narcotics, probably, for a boys party. Those didn't come cheap, but it meant that Lace could make bank on them too. "I should be able to help...you said your mom works for Arasaka, right?"

"Right."

Lace made a quick calculation in her head, adjusting for the boss's cut. It was more last time, so she doubled it just in case. Then her skim off the top of the regular rate...what the boss didn't know couldn't hurt him. And what Collin's wallet didn't know could hit it much easier.

"No problem, meet me by the oak tree after school. Usually it's a few grand for a party pack," Lace held up two of her fingers, "but since you're new at this I'll give you a discount."

Then she turned them over to shoo him away, putting her head and hands back to work. There wasn't enough time left for the whole assignment now, not unless Lace decided to switch out one of the executives for one she could describe in her sleep. On his good days, that is.

She was doing all this for him, and yet he was the reason she only had a few months left of this place. Now that was irony.