Don't be dirty ice cream Who: Deidara & Itachi (...to be announced). Where: Downtown nightclub, general area. Summary: To be announced. Warnings: Drugs. Language...eventually.
Typical afternoon. That's what it was for the blond art student who boreded on insanity.
Deidara was grinning from head to toe, with an ice cream cone in his right hand while his left helped to cradle his bookbag on his shoulder. His last project was passed with flying colors; literally, as it would seem. The piece was a retrofied version of modern day fireworks - in paint.
He hated working with paint. He hated the brushed, hated the dirty water, the trips back and forth to the washtub to rinse and get fresh water.
But the project was a success. Against his teachers wishes, Deidara promptly tore the painting apart and threw it in the trash after he had been graded and given permission to take it home. What was the point though? It would be forgotten, shoved into the shadows of a cluttered closet and that would be the end of it.
Six blocks and one ice cream cone later, the sun was setting behind the tall buildings that made up the city skyline, and Deidara was changing into something more club-wear appropriate. A few clients were meeting up with him, a normal transaction that took place deep in the darkness of a club with its hot strobe lights and overpriced alcohol. The alcoholics and the new drinkers would willingly pay; the smart people knew to find someone else willing to pay for the drinks.
Six hours into the night and it was growing close to one a.m. Deidara peeled a tall skinny (clearly buzzed out of his mind) man from around him and lazily headed out of the club.
He spent too much time in clubs. It was starting to get boring, not to mention it took a fourth of his cash flow. Stupid bartenders.
The night was a little cooler than he thought it would be, so he pulled his thin jacket tighter around himself and walked a few blocks before he made himself comfortable on the back of a bus stop bench. The blond glanced around then when he felt it was safe he went ahead and lit up the joint he had in his pocket. It was a decent size, and he desperately needed a pick me up after handing sticky, disgusting hands on him all night.
At least it was friday.
Deidara started to zone out a bit as he watched the embers glow at the tip of his joint, and watched as the smoke slowly drifted upwards before getting caught by the breeze and pushed away to - god only knows where.