Loud music blared in the cheep filthy club that was located in what seemed
to be the worst of places one could place a club. The streets outside were
dark, with only occasional weak light bulbs lighting certain corners and
leaving long stretches of road completely dark at night. The buses only
went one in four hours and it was so far away from the main road that to
catch a cab was nearly impossible. The building looked anything but
glamorous from outside and even less so from inside. It smelled of smoke,
sweat, weed and cheep booze.
The lights flashed in between sweaty shifting and twisting bodies making it even harder for Ray to think clearly. Everything was swaying; the room kept coming in and out of focus. Each scene around him was like a snapshot of a movie taken by someone else and showed to him in slow motion. He could hardly feel the lower part of his body, it was like his legs didn't even exist. He couldn't feel them at all, all he could feel was his spinning head and swaying torso. Everything was rushing by so fast, and it seemed like he wasn't even there, like he was just an observer looking from the inside of some different world out, like he was in a safe bubble where nothing could get him and the rest of the world did not affect him at all.
Just moving his eyes from subject to subject took a lot of effort, keeping his eyes open was even harder. Sometimes they would close of their own accord and he would not even remember when or how he shut them. Sometimes his whole body would sway and lean so far forward before he even noticed that when he finally forced his eyes to focus he would be staring right into his mostly empty glass. It was a real wonder how he managed not to fall of the chair he was sitting on, since it was really tall, narrow and offered no back support, a bar chair.
It was probably getting really late now, but he didn't attempt to get up, Ray didn't really think that he could even if he wanted to. His body felt like it weigh a ton, he would never be able to get down from this chair without falling head first or something of the sort. It took so much effort just to lift his arm, to move anything for that matter, his limbs didn't seem to want to listen to him, like they were not even his. And his head, it was kind of lolling from side to side, he had every desire to just let it drop somewhere, anywhere, as long as he could put it down, it was just so heavy, but he knew he had to keep it up or else he would never be able to raise it again.
He was such a mess. Long raven hair cascaded down his back barely brushed and unbound. His white shirt, damp with sweat was unbuttoned at the front exposing his muscular chest. Beads of sweat were rolling down his face and body. His blue cargo pants were torn at the side where he must've caught them on something and smudged ashes stained the front. In a few places they were even burnt from where he accidentally dropped his joint earlier, it was miraculous that he didn't get burnt.
"Hey buddy!!!"
Ray was barely able to lift his head up to look at the bartender.
"Yeah?" Surprisingly, his voice sounded quite normal, at least to him it did.
"I think you've had a few too many, how about you pay up and get the hell out of here?!" the way the bartender said that was almost threatening, but Ray didn't really notice. To Ray's surprise he was actually able to move his limbs to reach into his pocket and pull out his last... ... .... five?
It hardly registered in Ray's fogged up mind that he was in deep trouble, a five was not nearly enough to pay for all the drinks and drugs he has consumed.
"Well, well, would you look at that... Looks like you are a few short there, aren't you?" the bartender almost grinned, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he was about to call the bouncer to see what other ways they could invent to make the kid pay up.
Ray unfortunately hardly even heard him, he could feel it, he was going to pass out. He saw the counter rushing up at him and then everything went black, later on, he wasn't even sure if he ever fell or not, he couldn't remember anything, at that moment, he didn't even register that he was falling.
The next thing that he knew there was something pulling him off the chair and holding him up as he almost fell still not being able to feel his feet, let alone control what they did. For a moment, everything came back into focus again, everything seemed clear all of a sudden. He straightened himself and attempting to focus stared out straight forward doing his best to grasp on to his train of thought, thinking one thought at a time, trying to keep track of his mind.
In this moment of everything being crystal clear he saw a fifty being placed on the counter and watched as the bartender took it and put it in his pocket. He was saying something to someone, but Ray felt like he was watching everything from behind a glass window, it almost didn't seem real and despite all the noise, it almost seemed like the bartender's voice was put on mute. For a moment Ray wondered if he was deaf, but that couldn't be it, he could hear voices all around him, flooding him.
In the back of his mind Ray knew that he was drunk and stoned, and he observed everything with a sort of almost wonder, almost observing how he himself was affected by the weed and liquor. It was like a sense of curiosity that caused him to even notice that he was picking up conversations in foreign languages much clearer against all the other noise which almost seemed like static to him.
Then everything was hazy again, he was hardly aware of walking, stumbling, being dragged and swaying from side to side. He could hardly keep a grip on his consciousness at all, he was passing out every other moment, or at least it felt like that. He could hazily remember sitting down, but he wasn't sure if he ever did, or if it was just a dream, the line between what he saw in his sleep after and what actually happened before was so thin he wasn't even sure what did, and did not take place. He could remember walking up the stairs and seeing only stairs and more stairs, there seemed to be so many stairs, it didn't even seem real how many stairs there were. All he knew was that he didn't really remember climbing them, it was almost like he floated above them somehow, he felt heavy and weightless at the same time, his head was heavy, but his legs didn't even seem to be there, he still couldn't feel them.
The last thing that Ray could vaguely remember before he blanked out was loosing the support that he never registered was there all along, he was falling but he didn't remember ever landing, he couldn't remember at all what happened after.
Ray woke up with a killer headache. It was the first thing he felt, his head was pounding so badly he wished he could just pass out again. He cracked open his eyes expecting to see his hotel room even though he had no idea how he would get back there, he just assumed that he would not be able to remember it right away. What he saw though was a medium sized room shrouded in semi-darkness and it definitely did not look like a hotel room.
"What the?" Ray groaned as he attempted to sit up a little but failed as a sharp jolt of pain raced through his head forcing him to close his eyes and lay still waiting for the throbbing and pounding to subdue. The next time he opened his head he was more careful about what he did.
Slowly he looked around taking in the appearance of the room. There was a simple small dresser, probably large enough to hold the clothing of one person if that person didn't have too much that is. A small square mirror hangs above it, simple wooden frame, nothing elaborate. A thick black carpet covered the whole floor; it made the otherwise plain room look more comfy. There were a few framed paintings hung on the walls, whoever lived here seemed to like birds of prey quite a bit, they were quite beautiful, but Ray couldn't understand why someone would put such beautiful painting into such simple frames.
The bed he was lying on was taking up most of the space in the room that was otherwise empty except for a few chairs and a small coffee table in front of the large window. The window had thick curtains drawn over it, dark purple, plain, with no design whatsoever. Ray noticed that nothing in the room had a pattern or design, it was mostly plain and simple, but tactfully arranged with colors that were obviously thought out to bring the room together.
It bothered Ray that he had no idea how he got here or where here was. He thought that maybe he should attempt to get up but when he tried to move his legs he felt sharp pain in his left ankle. Pulling the warm blanket off he cringed, his foot was swollen a little, it was turning a nasty blue and he could not move it at all. Whoever took of his shoes last night, he was thankful to them for doing so, he would hate to have to take of his shoes now when his foot was swollen and bruised like that. Well, it looked like he was not going anywhere, not that he could have gotten far with the kind of headache he had right now.
Ray thought it best to just lie down for a while and hope that it was just someone he knew that came across him passed out in the bar and took him to their place not knowing where he was staying. That would be the logical explanation, except for one thing, he couldn't think of anyone that he knew in Russia. In any case, it hurt too much to think and he just wanted to close his eyes and sleep again. Ray focused his gaze on the plain wall that was painted in a soft light purple, in the darkness though it looked almost grey making the room look cold. Ray wanted to see what the room would look like if the curtains were drawn back, but he knew that if they were, the light would cause him quite a bit of pain.
Deciding finally against thinking he closed his eyes and fell back into oblivion his head sinking into the soft pillow and his raven hair spilling over it.
A door creaked open and the sound of a lock clicking into place could be heard. Soft footsteps followed a moment later, probably the moment it took for whoever it was to take of their shoes. The footsteps were almost inaudible drowned out by the softness of the thick carpet. A tall muscular figure moved across the room to where he left his guest this morning. It looked like the boy has been awake but has fallen back asleep. 'Good' he thought 'Saves me the effort of explaining for now' he noticed the swollen ankle and knelt down beside the bed to closely examine it. He never noticed it in the morning, he thought that he should make the effort to look the boy over for more injuries that he might have missed.
Getting up, he walked out of the room into a small kitchen and poured himself some coffee first, he has been awake all night yesterday and most of the day today, it was already late afternoon, he was deadly tired and if he was going to tend to the drunk druggie, he should at least be able to keep his eyes open.
Half an hour later Ray's ankle was bandaged up, and there didn't seem to be any other injuries on the kid either. It bothered the older man a little that Ray never steered from his sleep, from what he knew of the neko-jin, they were supposed to be very light sleepers. He wondered if alcohol and drugs affected humans in a different way they affected the cat people.
The figure rose from his observation and leaned over the sleeping boy, his bare chest was rising steadily under the blanket. The light empty eyes of Ray's saviour narrowed for a moment contemplating before he reached out and with his strong hand tilted ray's face to look straight down into it.
Ray could feel something, a discomfort, as if there were eyes on him, that feeling like someone was watching him. The headache made it hard to think and it was tempting to just drift back to sleep, but he couldn't, something was bothering him.
Bright amber eyes opened just a little bit blinking up at the face that was poised above him. Suddenly something registered in Ray's head, his eyes went wide, his silted pupils narrowed into a thin line. He jerked back from the hand that was holding his face but before he could scream that hand was clamped tightly over his mouth and he was pinned to the bed by a body that was too strong and heavy for him to move, he couldn't even budge. Ray lay frozen staring up at the man feeling how hard it was too breathe against the weight on his chest and listening to his own heart pounding in his chest and ears as if it was trying to get out. The adrenaline rush was so strong, it was getting harder and harder to breathe by the moment, he was feeling faint and the pain in his head made his vision blur.
'I'm in trouble...' thought Ray as his body, tense like a string convulsed from the pressure that it was being put through.
The lights flashed in between sweaty shifting and twisting bodies making it even harder for Ray to think clearly. Everything was swaying; the room kept coming in and out of focus. Each scene around him was like a snapshot of a movie taken by someone else and showed to him in slow motion. He could hardly feel the lower part of his body, it was like his legs didn't even exist. He couldn't feel them at all, all he could feel was his spinning head and swaying torso. Everything was rushing by so fast, and it seemed like he wasn't even there, like he was just an observer looking from the inside of some different world out, like he was in a safe bubble where nothing could get him and the rest of the world did not affect him at all.
Just moving his eyes from subject to subject took a lot of effort, keeping his eyes open was even harder. Sometimes they would close of their own accord and he would not even remember when or how he shut them. Sometimes his whole body would sway and lean so far forward before he even noticed that when he finally forced his eyes to focus he would be staring right into his mostly empty glass. It was a real wonder how he managed not to fall of the chair he was sitting on, since it was really tall, narrow and offered no back support, a bar chair.
It was probably getting really late now, but he didn't attempt to get up, Ray didn't really think that he could even if he wanted to. His body felt like it weigh a ton, he would never be able to get down from this chair without falling head first or something of the sort. It took so much effort just to lift his arm, to move anything for that matter, his limbs didn't seem to want to listen to him, like they were not even his. And his head, it was kind of lolling from side to side, he had every desire to just let it drop somewhere, anywhere, as long as he could put it down, it was just so heavy, but he knew he had to keep it up or else he would never be able to raise it again.
He was such a mess. Long raven hair cascaded down his back barely brushed and unbound. His white shirt, damp with sweat was unbuttoned at the front exposing his muscular chest. Beads of sweat were rolling down his face and body. His blue cargo pants were torn at the side where he must've caught them on something and smudged ashes stained the front. In a few places they were even burnt from where he accidentally dropped his joint earlier, it was miraculous that he didn't get burnt.
"Hey buddy!!!"
Ray was barely able to lift his head up to look at the bartender.
"Yeah?" Surprisingly, his voice sounded quite normal, at least to him it did.
"I think you've had a few too many, how about you pay up and get the hell out of here?!" the way the bartender said that was almost threatening, but Ray didn't really notice. To Ray's surprise he was actually able to move his limbs to reach into his pocket and pull out his last... ... .... five?
It hardly registered in Ray's fogged up mind that he was in deep trouble, a five was not nearly enough to pay for all the drinks and drugs he has consumed.
"Well, well, would you look at that... Looks like you are a few short there, aren't you?" the bartender almost grinned, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he was about to call the bouncer to see what other ways they could invent to make the kid pay up.
Ray unfortunately hardly even heard him, he could feel it, he was going to pass out. He saw the counter rushing up at him and then everything went black, later on, he wasn't even sure if he ever fell or not, he couldn't remember anything, at that moment, he didn't even register that he was falling.
The next thing that he knew there was something pulling him off the chair and holding him up as he almost fell still not being able to feel his feet, let alone control what they did. For a moment, everything came back into focus again, everything seemed clear all of a sudden. He straightened himself and attempting to focus stared out straight forward doing his best to grasp on to his train of thought, thinking one thought at a time, trying to keep track of his mind.
In this moment of everything being crystal clear he saw a fifty being placed on the counter and watched as the bartender took it and put it in his pocket. He was saying something to someone, but Ray felt like he was watching everything from behind a glass window, it almost didn't seem real and despite all the noise, it almost seemed like the bartender's voice was put on mute. For a moment Ray wondered if he was deaf, but that couldn't be it, he could hear voices all around him, flooding him.
In the back of his mind Ray knew that he was drunk and stoned, and he observed everything with a sort of almost wonder, almost observing how he himself was affected by the weed and liquor. It was like a sense of curiosity that caused him to even notice that he was picking up conversations in foreign languages much clearer against all the other noise which almost seemed like static to him.
Then everything was hazy again, he was hardly aware of walking, stumbling, being dragged and swaying from side to side. He could hardly keep a grip on his consciousness at all, he was passing out every other moment, or at least it felt like that. He could hazily remember sitting down, but he wasn't sure if he ever did, or if it was just a dream, the line between what he saw in his sleep after and what actually happened before was so thin he wasn't even sure what did, and did not take place. He could remember walking up the stairs and seeing only stairs and more stairs, there seemed to be so many stairs, it didn't even seem real how many stairs there were. All he knew was that he didn't really remember climbing them, it was almost like he floated above them somehow, he felt heavy and weightless at the same time, his head was heavy, but his legs didn't even seem to be there, he still couldn't feel them.
The last thing that Ray could vaguely remember before he blanked out was loosing the support that he never registered was there all along, he was falling but he didn't remember ever landing, he couldn't remember at all what happened after.
Ray woke up with a killer headache. It was the first thing he felt, his head was pounding so badly he wished he could just pass out again. He cracked open his eyes expecting to see his hotel room even though he had no idea how he would get back there, he just assumed that he would not be able to remember it right away. What he saw though was a medium sized room shrouded in semi-darkness and it definitely did not look like a hotel room.
"What the?" Ray groaned as he attempted to sit up a little but failed as a sharp jolt of pain raced through his head forcing him to close his eyes and lay still waiting for the throbbing and pounding to subdue. The next time he opened his head he was more careful about what he did.
Slowly he looked around taking in the appearance of the room. There was a simple small dresser, probably large enough to hold the clothing of one person if that person didn't have too much that is. A small square mirror hangs above it, simple wooden frame, nothing elaborate. A thick black carpet covered the whole floor; it made the otherwise plain room look more comfy. There were a few framed paintings hung on the walls, whoever lived here seemed to like birds of prey quite a bit, they were quite beautiful, but Ray couldn't understand why someone would put such beautiful painting into such simple frames.
The bed he was lying on was taking up most of the space in the room that was otherwise empty except for a few chairs and a small coffee table in front of the large window. The window had thick curtains drawn over it, dark purple, plain, with no design whatsoever. Ray noticed that nothing in the room had a pattern or design, it was mostly plain and simple, but tactfully arranged with colors that were obviously thought out to bring the room together.
It bothered Ray that he had no idea how he got here or where here was. He thought that maybe he should attempt to get up but when he tried to move his legs he felt sharp pain in his left ankle. Pulling the warm blanket off he cringed, his foot was swollen a little, it was turning a nasty blue and he could not move it at all. Whoever took of his shoes last night, he was thankful to them for doing so, he would hate to have to take of his shoes now when his foot was swollen and bruised like that. Well, it looked like he was not going anywhere, not that he could have gotten far with the kind of headache he had right now.
Ray thought it best to just lie down for a while and hope that it was just someone he knew that came across him passed out in the bar and took him to their place not knowing where he was staying. That would be the logical explanation, except for one thing, he couldn't think of anyone that he knew in Russia. In any case, it hurt too much to think and he just wanted to close his eyes and sleep again. Ray focused his gaze on the plain wall that was painted in a soft light purple, in the darkness though it looked almost grey making the room look cold. Ray wanted to see what the room would look like if the curtains were drawn back, but he knew that if they were, the light would cause him quite a bit of pain.
Deciding finally against thinking he closed his eyes and fell back into oblivion his head sinking into the soft pillow and his raven hair spilling over it.
A door creaked open and the sound of a lock clicking into place could be heard. Soft footsteps followed a moment later, probably the moment it took for whoever it was to take of their shoes. The footsteps were almost inaudible drowned out by the softness of the thick carpet. A tall muscular figure moved across the room to where he left his guest this morning. It looked like the boy has been awake but has fallen back asleep. 'Good' he thought 'Saves me the effort of explaining for now' he noticed the swollen ankle and knelt down beside the bed to closely examine it. He never noticed it in the morning, he thought that he should make the effort to look the boy over for more injuries that he might have missed.
Getting up, he walked out of the room into a small kitchen and poured himself some coffee first, he has been awake all night yesterday and most of the day today, it was already late afternoon, he was deadly tired and if he was going to tend to the drunk druggie, he should at least be able to keep his eyes open.
Half an hour later Ray's ankle was bandaged up, and there didn't seem to be any other injuries on the kid either. It bothered the older man a little that Ray never steered from his sleep, from what he knew of the neko-jin, they were supposed to be very light sleepers. He wondered if alcohol and drugs affected humans in a different way they affected the cat people.
The figure rose from his observation and leaned over the sleeping boy, his bare chest was rising steadily under the blanket. The light empty eyes of Ray's saviour narrowed for a moment contemplating before he reached out and with his strong hand tilted ray's face to look straight down into it.
Ray could feel something, a discomfort, as if there were eyes on him, that feeling like someone was watching him. The headache made it hard to think and it was tempting to just drift back to sleep, but he couldn't, something was bothering him.
Bright amber eyes opened just a little bit blinking up at the face that was poised above him. Suddenly something registered in Ray's head, his eyes went wide, his silted pupils narrowed into a thin line. He jerked back from the hand that was holding his face but before he could scream that hand was clamped tightly over his mouth and he was pinned to the bed by a body that was too strong and heavy for him to move, he couldn't even budge. Ray lay frozen staring up at the man feeling how hard it was too breathe against the weight on his chest and listening to his own heart pounding in his chest and ears as if it was trying to get out. The adrenaline rush was so strong, it was getting harder and harder to breathe by the moment, he was feeling faint and the pain in his head made his vision blur.
'I'm in trouble...' thought Ray as his body, tense like a string convulsed from the pressure that it was being put through.