Therese looked at the woman with the cast and crutches, who reminisced at the old junk on the wall. Well, Therese wanted to think of old junk, didn't want to admit that she was impressed, even slightly in awe. She thought she hid her feelings well enough and then followed the woman to the bar. A shot? The bar was stocked with some seriously pricey stuff, but Therese was one of those kids who at an early part of her life was forced to make a choice.  Either become a loser drunk, crazy ass bitch like her no good mother, or stay away from that shit for good. Living on the streets for the most part she was usually surrounded by stoners, drunks, and often dangerous and totally mental people. She had been raped a few times, had to run away from a pad a few times when some meth crazed people tossed her out, but she wasn't going to let that happen to her. Of course her luck that the bitch she had to slave for was a drunk too. Except she neither looked nor smelled like a habitual abuser. Her mother literally had that stuff oozing out of her pores. Belle didn't smell or act drunk, and she was kinda cool, especially how she handled the P.O., that was something she had never seen before.  She didn't act stuck up, didn't act like a cunt, but that didn't mean she would just like bend over and do whatever she was told.<br/><br/>Therese climbed up on a barstool and began to doodle in the dust. She loved art and graphic design but tagging was as close as she got to being out there, being seen. She knew she had semi fame in her area for it, her tag was well known. The girl rose and walked to the refrigerated beverage center and spied a small bottle of real orange juice. The real stuff, not Sunny D but real, honest to goodness orange juice.  She felt her mouth moistening with anticipation, she broad had said she could take whatever, surely the OJ was part of that. She opened the cool stainless steel door and retrieved the cold plastic bottle of orange juice and sat on the floor. Real orange juice... she hadn't had something like this in .... when was the last time she'd had it? It wasn't exactly a food pantry item and she slowly sipped the juice until she felt her tummy rumbling. A quick survey of the drawers lead her to a container of peanuts. She took some in a napkin and ate them, one at a time, until they were gone and the juice empty. She stood up and rinsed the bottle before putting it in the recycle bin, and threw away the napkin. Her hunger diminished and the sugar coursing through her body made her feel less angry. She looked at the dust and scowled. She didn't owe this bitch shit! Except she had given her no reason to hate her and she had just eaten her food. Bitch was loaded, who cared.... Therese ran her hands through her long hair and stomped her food and grunted with frustration.  But then she picked up the dusting cloths, dampened one, kept the other for drying and started to clean. She never noticed the small camera hidden in the corner.