That's right, I'm still alive. I've been in Japan for the past year, and just now decided to return to writing. I'll be using this piece to warm up my engines, along with some other shorter things that I want to cross off my list. Once I feel like I've cleaned off the rust, it'll be back to longer and more complicated stuff. That said, I hope you enjoy this!
Jaune heaved a wistful sigh, stepping onto the street. A misting of rain fell from the night sky, drowning out and replacing the music that pulsed from the nightclub as the door slammed behind him. Left alone with his thoughts, he walked into the center of the street and gazed upward, halfheartedly considering just staying there until something interesting happened. When nothing happened after a minute, he heaved a second sigh and stared at the club again.
After a hard week of work and sorely in need of a drink, he had decided to step outside his comfort zone and go to a nightclub in the seedier part of town. Although he didn't really have a goal in mind he hoped to at least have an interesting conversation or two, anything to take his mind off the desk work overtime he'd pulled to get into his asshole boss's good graces. At least he'd be able to make new friends, and if he got lucky, just maybe, he'd be able to hit it off with a pretty girl. . .
But it seemed that luck simply wasn't in his cards that night, as everybody he talked to showed only minimal interest. Likely because he'd arrived in what was very clearly his work outfit and made every conversation he'd started sound more like a business transaction than a chance encounter. Each time he was left alone at the bar with a palm pressed to his forehead. Too formal! He reminded himself countless times, but to no avail. He couldn't avoid the fact that the problem was him, and that hurt far more than the pain of rejection.
The club doors opening brought Jaune back to the present as a couple left the club arm in arm laughing, pausing while the taller of the two pulled out an umbrella to shield them from the rain. Walking close together, they left; an insult to Jaune's injury.
"Well, nothing to do but cut my losses I guess," he muttered to nobody in particular, pushing his wet bangs back and out of his face. He had to walk a good mile before he made it to a main road, by which time he was thoroughly soaked. The taxi driver that picked him up looked none too happy to get his car soaked, and charged extra for the inconvenience. Having long since given up on having a good night, Jaune handed the Lien over with no complaint.
The walk from the taxi to his apartment door seemed more drab than usual, exhaustion and regret shattering his youthful rose-colored lenses. The trace amounts of alcohol in his system made fumbling for his keys that much more frustrating.
As he was about to step inside, a colorful scrap of paper caught his eye. It was half submerged in a puddle, the ripples of raindrops echoing off its surface. He deliberated on the doorstep for a good ten seconds before caving in, walking back into the rain to further examine it. Picking it up by the corner, he was surprised to find that it was not attached to a greater amount of magazine, but was merely the corner of one of the pages. He could barely make out the printed words, which concluded with a phone number.
"Down on your luck? Feeling lonely? Call this number for the companion of your dreams!"
Jaune let out a wry laugh, throwing the paper back into the puddle. As if. The gods must be laughing at me. The door to his apartment closed behind him with a gentle click, the rain continuing to pour down as he stripped off his wet clothes and brushed his teeth. He collapsed onto his bed minutes later, uncomfortable yet unwilling to move.
Sleep refused to take him; he tossed and turned, yet each time he only felt more and more uncomfortable. Trying to clear his mind in vain, the only thought that made itself within the swirling tumult was the scrap of paper he'd picked up from the puddle. After another hour of sleeplessness he stood with an exasperated growl and padded out into the rain in his pajamas.
It being 1 in the morning, he would've looked the part of an insane person, fishing around in a puddle for a scrap of paper in the rain had he been seen. Luckily, he fished out the scrap just a moment later, shaking it off on the way back into his apartment. The text had become only more faded with the wash of the rain, yet the phone number at the end was still legible - Jaune pulled out his scroll and dialed it before he could have second thoughts.
The call connected after three rings, the voice which answered a low feminine sounding one. "Your call has been received, may I have your name please?" Jaune stood dumb for a minute before answering.
"Um, I was actually hoping to ask a few questions about this, what are-"
"Name please," the voice responded, intolerant of his speaking.
"Jaune Arc?"
"Thank you Mr. Arc. Your request has been filed." The line went dead a second later, leaving Jaune alone, face illuminated with the blue glow from the screen. He considered calling again to get answers, but something made him think that the conversation would go just as the first had. With little afterthought, he dropped the scroll onto his bedside table and collapsed onto his bed. This time, sleep took him instantly.
The next week passed in a blur of paperwork, angry supervisors, a constant headache and an even worse ache in his lower back. While it payed decently, pushing papers for the Schnee Dust Company took just as much in energy, leaving him tired and malcontent at the end of the work day. How he envied those with fun jobs, the kind where they could honestly say "I never work a day in my life." No, the SDC was far from one of those jobs, a fact that had become increasingly clear after he first joined the ranks of the mega-corporation. It didn't even work with his degree field; he had studied Environmental Management and Resource Conservation. All things told, the SDC stood in direct opposition to his beliefs, and yet. . .
And yet, by the time Friday rolled around, Jaune was still an employee, free for the whole weekend thanks to the mercy of a company holiday.
A crowded bus ride home did nothing to improve his tired mood. Already planning to spend the afternoon doing nothing but relaxing, he walked the rest of the way to his apartment. A quick key turn later, and he closed the door behind him, throwing off his jacket.
"Welcome home Jaune."
"Thanks," he responded on instinct, before realizing that he lived alone. "What what the-?"
He searched the room lightning fast with his eyes, until they alighted on a man sitting cross-legged on the bed. His bed.
The man had long black hair sporting a pink streak, which he wore loose. It cascaded around his face - which struck Jaune as exceptionally elegant - and across his lean shoulders, which were bare. His eyes matched the pink streak of his hair, and he stared at Jaune with a raised eyebrow and a slight smile. All things considered he was incredibly beautiful, graceful, and cute. Jaune pushed those thoughts aside as fast as he could, focusing on the crux of the problem. "Who are you?"
"I'm Lie Ren, but just call me Ren. If you don't mind?" He phrased the statement like a question, tilting his head slightly at the end. His hair followed suit, rolling over his shoulder.
"Right, but who are you?" Jaune frowned, too nervous to put his keys away or take off his shoes. "How did you get in?"
"You mean, you don't know? But you're the one who called, aren't you?"
Jaune's head spun. "Called? I. . . called? What are you talking about?"
"Oh, don't tell me you don't remember?" Jaune shook his head in response. "You called and requested a companion just last week."
A million thoughts raced through Jaune's head at once. What had he gotten himself into? Why was the "companion" a boy? Who was Lie Ren? And how had he gotten inside his apartment?
In the end, he found his mouth couldn't quite form words, and stuck out his hand to fill the silence. "I'm. . . Jaune. But I guess you knew that. . . huh?"
Ren smiled and reached out with both his hands, startling Jaune with their warmth and softness. "That's right! It's nice to meet you, Jaune."
"Yeah, you too," he responded, still bewildered. As Ren let his hand go, he felt a small flash of disappointment.
Calm down, Jaune, he reassured himself, Ren doesn't seem like a dangerous person, let's just see how this plays out. We can work out this misunderstanding and hopefully this won't be a huge issue.
Another glance into Ren's eyes brought back unbidden thoughts.
Why do I think he's so cute?
