Very rarely did a night with Wendy go bad, as she was now a self-proclaimed pro at cooing those at a bar to buy her a free drink. However, planning to go to a new bar across town turned sour, as a few other girls with the same agenda didn’t exactly like another gold-digger in their territory. They dragged her by the hair, not shy to leave a few cuts and bruises on her pretty face. Wendy did her best to put up a good fight, but a three to one ratio had never been a favourite for anyone--- at least, in this reality. With no money on her, Wendy was forced to make it back home on foot, cold and hungry. Embarrassed, she did her best to not look at anyone in the eye in fear of getting caught, especially by her own brother who wouldn’t hesitate to make fun. She took her time going home, walking down a few residential streets and alleyways in a mere miniskirt and tube top, ending up a few miles from her neighbourhood on a quaint-ish street. She blinks in an effort to moisten her contacts, falling when her heel breaks, the concrete beneath her grazing her knees. “Fuck---” she curses, rolling over on her bottom picking out the contacts from her eyes in frustration. “Can this night get any worse...”
