Hey, here's the first chapter of my new fanfic. It's just kinda spurred up out of nowhere a couple weeks ago and I've been writing it on and off. I apologize if there are any misspellings or mistakes, it's been through multiple edits but you can't catch everything.
Summary: Who knew that even demon contracts come with a 30-day free trial offer? But, with all devious creatures, there's always a catch… So I've got a few choice words for him: Run, Devil, Run.
And yeah, that's a basic summary of the story, although, I don't want to give away anything too soon. I've kinda got a lot plotted out for this fic, so I can't wait to get started. Review and tell me what you think of it so far?
*Side Note* For those of you who care, I've revised and re-edited MLC, and also put it under a lower rating. And 's been screwy and pissin' me off. Well, here it is, the new version of Misery Loves Company.
~Enjoy!~
It's not that I hate life, but its not like I love it either. I mean, I wouldn't mind if I died today, but I'm not exactly wishing for it to happen. My friends say I'm lacking personality, but I prefer apathetic. It's a personality where you don't need to show any emotion at all, which is just how I like it. No worries, no stress, no problems. It's the ideal life choice. But, I guess, along with that means no love, no happiness, and no joy. I don't get to experience any of that. It doesn't matter to me, though, because feeling nothing at all is better than being hurt. Never again will I succumb to that weakness again, to having to feel the endless pain. No, I'd rather live a life without love; it's easier that way.
You see, I don't believe in love. No matter how you look at it, it doesn't exist. It's an illusion people fall into, and when the illusion starts to fade, that's when you get the term "falling out of love." But I wouldn't call it "falling out of love," I'd call it "returning to reality." When they return to their former lives, they dwell on that person they were "in love with," and basically, are still somewhat stuck in that dreamland. No matter, someone is always hurt, before, during, or after this horrid illusion. People brag about how wonderful it is to be in love, and to be loved back, and all this useless shit; they are so blind that they cannot see the internal damage it does with every heartbreak. Love is the invisible killer. It murders you from the inside out, until finally, there is nothing left but an empty shell of your former self.
Trust me, I know from experience.
But I'd rather not go on about my life story now, its unimportant and a waste of both of our time. Well, I guess, maybe if you're lucky, I'll tell that story one day. But, for now, I've got more pressing matters to attend to, so if you'll excuse me, I'll be on my way now.
"Seul, it's time to wake up," My brother shook me gently awake and I peeled open my eyes. "I swear, you could sleep forever if you had the time."
I only blinked in response and the continued to stare up at him in boredom. I quickly surveyed his small, frail body and noted what he was wearing; a dapper blue cardigan hugging his tiny frame paired with black skinny jeans and cerulean blue converse. Expertly styled, of course.
"Chris, when is Alois gonna be here?" I questioned groggily. I stretched my arms skyward and yawned open-mouthedly. A good nap always did you good, but it was mighty tiresome to wake yourself afterwards.
As if on cue, the blonde in question bounded into the room and mauled me on my little square of heaven on the couch.
"Oof, get off," I said in disgust, shriveling up my nose in response.
"You're no fun, as always," Alois whined, but he shrugged off of me and got up. He was used to my rejection by now.
I sat up and ruffled my mussed-up blonde toss of hair; I wanted to show some sort of civility.
"What time is it?" I asked, more alert this time.
Chris was still standing in front of me, only now he had a confused expression upon his face. "What did you just say?" he inquired. He obviously was completely distracted by Alois, who was currently wrapping his arms around Chris's petite waist.
"The time, Chris. What is it?" I questioned once again.
"Oh, it's six-thirty," he replied languidly. "You have work in an hour."
"Thanks," I said gratefully.
That caught Alois's undivided attention. "You're working at the emo strip-club again?"
I rolled my eyes in somewhat irritation. "How many times do I have to tell you this? Just because depressed people like to hang out there and our boss makes us dress like whores does NOT make it an emo strip-club!"
"Sure…." Alois taunted. "That's what they all say." He added with a wink.
I folded my arms and glared up at him. "Mhm, and how many people have you known that work at the same place I do?"
"Up until now…one."
"That's what I thought."
Alois made a sort of huff and looked down in shame.
"I can't believe you guys are really leaving to go back to L.A.," I complained, changing the subject.
"It's only for a month, Seul," my sibling assured me. "I'm sure you'll be fine. Besides, I haven't seen Mom and Dad in forever."
"But why does Alois have to go too?"
"Because, silly," Alois kidded. "It's your brother and I's one-year anniversary. Have you already forgotten?"
"No," I replied sharply. "But England's always so dreary, even in the summertime."
"Seul," my twin brother reminded me. "You knew London was like this when we moved here. You thought it would be a good experience to study abroad for high school."
"I know, but I didn't realize it would be so desolate. It's constantly raining. Anyway, you've already graduated high school; I've still got another year to go."
Although I mentioned earlier that Chris is my twin, we aren't really on the same intelligence level. He's like a super-nerd, and he skipped the sixth grade. I, though, had to endure all three years of middle-school hell, and let me tell you, it was not fun at all. So, while Chris and I are both seventeen, he's going off to college next year, and I'm stuck going back to high school to finish off my senior year. Alois, on the other hand, is actually eighteen, and a year older than Chris and me.
Also, while we are twins, Chris and I look almost nothing alike. Well, there was that time period when I dyed my hair, but that was a special occasion. Normally, I have a short, layered blonde mess of hair, while Chris has a darker head of hair. Actually, I looked more like Alois's sister, and even though I was only one year his junior, it still gave him reason enough to call me 'lil' sis." Really, the only defining feature that Chris and I shared was our deep, ominous, cerulean eyes.
"Ugh, I can just imagine the sunny weather and the sparkling ocean water now. Hate you both." I lied down on the couch and laid my head on the nearest pillow. I closed my eyes and imagined I was halfway across the world, in my hometown.
"I know, we're so lucky," Chris joked. "And we get a condo all to ourselves." He leaned up on the tips of his toes and gave Alois a teasing peck on the lips.
"I can't wait," Alois wrapped his arms around Chris's lithe waist and enraptured Chris's lips in his own. His tongue soon snaked its way into my brother's mouth, and feeling somewhat uncomfortable during the full-on make-out session, I decided to clear my throat.
"Well, not that this isn't fun, but don't you two have a plane to catch?" I pointed out.
"Oh, right!" Alois remembered airily.
We bid our quick farewells, and then my younger brother (he is younger by a full twenty minutes!), and Alois headed out the door, leaving it closed with a sudden slam.
After hearing the door shut loudly, I sighed, leaning back on the couch a bit more. I remember how peaceful my and Chris's life had been before Alois had arrived in it, but now, with him in it, it was that much more enjoyable. Especially at the start of last year, Chris's junior year of high school, when he had finally come out to me and the world. I accepted him right away, because he's family, you know, but the rest of the teenage population at his school didn't have quite the same reaction. And as my kid brother, I couldn't stand to see him get bullied by his peers and even receive death threats.
Even our own aunt, who was our main supporter while we were living in England, turned her back on us and stopped helping us out. When that happened, I had to find a job- fast. So that's how I found myself working at the "emo strip-club," struggling to make ends meet and keep food on the table. I didn't want Chris to worry or get stressed out even more than he was, so I didn't make him work and left the expenses up to myself. Also, since I didn't want our parents to be concerned about us, I decided not to tell them about our aunt's disloyalty.
Additionally, right about then, Chris sunk into a deep depression and even I was unable to coax him out of him. It wasn't until Alois appeared in our lives that things finally started to turn around. Alois was a tan blonde surfer, quite the jock from L.A., and he was a bright supplement to our school and brought Chris a little reminder of home. I think the most distinct thing about Alois was that he was also a homosexual. The district of London that we live in is usually pretty unforgiving towards those of different sexualities, but with Alois's charm and humor, no one could resist being around him, no matter his sexual preference. Though the most surprising thing out of all of this was when one day after school, Alois asked Chris out to dinner for that following Friday. Not a couple weeks later, they were dating. Alois was like the perfect recovery for Chris, and afterwards, my brother pulled a complete one-eighty.
Chris stopped receiving the nasty threats and getting beat up after school. If anyone made an offensive comment or remark, they knew they would have to go through Alois first. And being well built like he was, Alois was not someone you wanted to mess with. Also, luckily, our aunt realized she was hurting me as well as Chris, and she decided to pay for me to go to private school and for our current apartment. She still wasn't all right with Chris's life decision and always made constant jabs at him when she visited, but at least it was a step in the right direction.
Even though I don't believe in all that "true love" shit, if there were two people meant for each other, it would be Alois and Chris. They were just a perfect match and seemed to complement each other in every way. But they were the only exception. And I still don't believe in love.
Well, now that I got that whole "life story" business out of the way, I had an hour to kill, didn't I?
What to do…I reached around the ottoman until I found my iPod touch lying atop it. I scrolled around on it until I found the selection marked "Lady Gaga." I went down to "Monster" and pressed play.
He ate my heart. He a-a-ate my heart. He ate my heart. He a-a-ate my heart out.
As I hummed along to the electric beats, I returned to my room and started on my makeup.
Look at him, look at me. That boy is bad, with no restraints. He's a wolf in disguise but I can't stop staring in those evil eyes.
Although, you see, as aforementioned, I had work tonight. I guess I failed to mention, that it is a café/bar populated mainly by people miserable with their lives. Don't get me wrong, I'm not unhappy or unsatisfied with my life in the least, I just enjoy the fact that the kids are too depressed with themselves to care about me at all, so for the most part, they didn't bother me. A job where there were no annoying customers to worry about fucking up my day? Fantastic. But, since my boss, Aleister, is a total pervert and creep, he insists that all of us barmaids wear annoyingly slutty costumes. It's almost like we work in a burlesque club or something, minus the dancing. I can't dance for my life. Set me out on a dance floor and you'll want to burn your eyes out for years to come. And though I can't help how my boss's deviant mind works, Alois never lets up a chance to tease me about my job. On the bright side, it made decent money and I was content with it.
I asked my girlfriend if she'd seen you round before. She mumbled something while we got down on the floor, baby.
All right. Eyeliner was finished, now time for the false lashes and dubious coats of mascara. Hot pink lipstick was applied next. Following was blush and foundation, and then I was done.
We might have fucked, not really sure, don't quite recall.
Next was the fun part of getting ready: the uniform. I stripped off all my other garments and first slipped on the black and baby pink lace corset. Once on, my fingers fluidly tied all the strings as tightly as possible and finished it off with a nice bow in the back. I pulled on my fishnets, my black booty shorts, and my garter. I added a simple black choker as a finishing touch.
But something tells me that I've seen him here before.
I tousled my hair one last time for a side swept effect and stepped into a pair of pumps. I gathered the things I would need into a small clutch and put on a coat to, you know, cover up. I shut off my iPod and headed out the door.
That boy is a Monster (m-m-m-monster), that boy is a Monster (m-m-m-monster).
That boy is a Monster.
I approached my destination and looked up at the sign out front. Misery & Co., it read. The windows were blocked out by red velvet curtains and it was impossible to see in from the outside. I sighed deeply, it was time for me to get to work.
"Hello."
I finished polishing up the clear glass in my hands before filling it up with water and setting it on the hardwood counter of the bar. I fixed my hair quickly and looked up at the owner of the voice.
The voice had been somewhat deep, so I was surprised to see a young man looking back at me. He had tousled black locks and piercing red eyes, obviously contacts, I observed. He was dressed in a simple coal black v-neck and matching skinny jeans.
"Do you need something?" I asked with a bored expression on my face. It was getting late, and I couldn't stand to be here much longer. I knew I would be alone when I got home, and as depressing a prospect that was, it was still better than covering the night shift at work. While Misery & Co. usually had pretty tame and lame customers, the creepers usually showed up late at night, around 10, and judging by how we were dressed, these men usually mistook this place for something else.
"Nope," the man finally answered.
"I was just in the area searching for a good meal, but I couldn't find anything appetizing enough," he replied with a slight smirk on his face and a quick lick of his lips. "Although, when I walked in here-"
His sentence was cut off by the splashing of water in his face. I stood there, breathing heavily, clenching the empty glass in my hand. The water droplets started to drip off his face in tiny wet lines. I glared back at his surprised face.
"I don't know how many times I have to clarify this, but this is neither a strip club, nor a whorehouse. If you looking for entertainment of that sort, I would suggest that you look elsewhere. Get out, bastard." I set down the glass, balled my hands up into angry fists down at my sides, and waited for a reply.
"Oh, you thought that… oh," he sort of mumbled to himself, and I was confused as to whether he was referring to me or not. He looked up and nodded his head at me. "Alright, I'm deeply sorry for the misunderstanding. I will leave immediately. I apologize for wasting your time." He bowed slightly towards me and left for the door.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I felt the urge to call him back, but I quickly pushed it away. He was just a creepy guy looking for a prostitute, that's all he had meant. There was no other agenda of his. Not in the slightest.
After that, I returned back to the bar and he left the building. The rest of the night continued on in its usual fashion, nothing special at all, minus the earlier disruption.
I feel it in my skin; I feel it through my bones.
Your fingertips are falling far from where I know.
I try to pin you down, but you move like a dream.
I wanna find you but you drop me in the sea,
In the sea,
In the sea,
In the sea,
In the sea.
Work was finally finished and it was time for me to lock up. My boss, Aleister, trusted us enough to keep the place secure, so he had one of us girls usually close up the place.
I threw on my coat and shivered as I put the key in its slot and turned it to the right before pulling it out and pocketing it. It was awfully cold for May; there was actually still snow covering the ground. Our winter had lasted quite a while in London, and although it hadn't arrived until March, it had stayed for its full three months. I only hoped that the weather would clear up in time for summer vacation. I had finals in a couple weeks for school and the only good parts of that were the half-days and the imminent summer approaching. Maybe over the next two weeks the temperatures would reach eighty and I could throw on my bikini after school to catch some premature tanning time to darken up my pale-ass skin.
Well, enough daydreams of summer. It's not coming anytime soon, and I'd be surprised if it even got to seventy degrees in all of July. Guess my "warm" wardrobe would consist of things to keep me warm, as opposed to vice versa.
I headed down the street that led me to my compact apartment. Chris and I couldn't afford anything too expensive but our flat was pretty nice.
I stepped out onto the cold street around the corner and let the brisk wind shiver my body. Tonight was an unusual night; the black sky completely clear and the full moon was a shining bright orb illuminating the midnight air. The stars seemed so dim next to the brilliant light.
I stopped looking at the sky and headed on my way. But not a few steps after I did, I wasn't watching where I was going and tripped over a dip in the sidewalk. I stumbled to the ground and skinned up my right knee pretty good, ruining my tights in the process. I took a moment to study the damage and noticed the skin was sheared a bit and tiny specks of blood were starting to form.
Better get home quickly, I thought to myself. The later I'm out, the more at risk it is for an infection. So, I helped myself up and started on my way. Unfortunately, though, I must've twisted my ankle or something during the fall because I was having trouble walking now and I had begun to fall again.
Although this time, a pair of strong hands reached out and caught me mid-plummet.
No, no don't rescue me. I like the saltwater sting. It feels so good to feel. It feels so good just to feel something, in the sea.
I looked up and found a pair of deep red eyes staring back at me. I nearly shrieked after being caught off-guard. The firm hands kept me in place for a few more seconds, then they brought me up and set me back on my feet.
You move so softly in the middle of the night.
"You again?" I wondered aloud. "What the hell are you doing here? Are you stalking me now?"
"Nothing of the sort, milady," he answered, his words slick as ice. It was that creeper guy from the bar. "I was just in the neighborhood."
"I thought you left hours ago. What could you possibly be doing that would you keep you here so long?" I started to return on my way again, ignoring the slight limp my ankle was giving me.
Like a cocoon in sheets, you wrap me up so tight.
"Oh, wouldn't you like to know?" he teased devilishly. He took a few steps and kept in stride with me.
"No, actually, I don't think I would," I said searingly, turning my back to him. My ankle was really killing me know, but if I stopped now, who knows what this creep would do? "Mind leaving anytime soon? You're being quite a bother."
"Am I?" He winked at me charmingly. "Well then, I shall leave you alone. But would you do me the favor of answering a question first?"
I exhaled sharply. "Why? I don't have any clue who you are." He didn't answer so I decided I would just answer his question. Besides, it wouldn't hurt just to reply to one, simple, query. "Fine, ask away."
Remember how we used to tangle up and breathe?
"Form a contract with me."
Now you're so far away, you roll me in the sea.
Several images flashed before my mind, some of them of weirdly shaped stars, purple light, and multitudes of black feathers.
In the sea, in the sea, in the sea,
"What is that supposed to mean?" I cocked my head to the side. Was that 'contract' a codeword for something else? What did he want?
You dropped me in the sea,
As if in response to my question, the man leaned forward and kissed me. The cold presence of his lips on mine seemed to send the veins in my heart on overdrive. The tips of my fingers began to tingle. He gripped my short hair in his hand and held my waist with the other in order to deepen the kiss. My eyelids flew open and my heart started to flutter in fear. Deep blue stared back at him, but he made no movement to stop what he was doing. I closed my eyes again and allowed him to continue his assault on my mouth.
In the sea, in the sea, in the sea.
I felt myself return the actions; it's not like they meant anything anyway. This was all just simple, stupid, and meaningless. It had no effect on me either way.
No, no, don't rescue me. I like the saltwater sting.
He moaned something into my mouth that I couldn't quite catch. I jerked away from him and locked eyes with his.
He stared at me. "There's something not normal about you."
We were still holding each other, which was somewhat awkward, but neither of us really felt the need to move.
"Wow, thanks. Just what I wanted to hear," I said sardonically with a casual roll of the eyes.
"Come now," the outer corners of his mouth started to twitch upward as he lifted my chin with his pointer finger in one precise motion. "That's not what I meant."
It feels just so good just to feel.
"You're not normal because you're not like other girls. Any other girl in your position would have been swooning the moment they laid eyes on me."
"Conceited much?" I raised my eyebrow challengingly. "But anyway, I'm not a normal girl. And I don't believe in love."
"Oh? And why is that?"
"Reasons."
"Care to explain?"
"Not exactly."
"By the way," I added. "Is your name m-muh-Micheal or something like that?" A confused expression crossed my heavily makeup-ed face. The words just seemed to slip off my tongue, sliding on the glassy surface of uncertainty.
"Michaelis."
"Oh."
It feels so just to feel something.
His hand that was resting in my hair traveled down to the small of my back. "It's quite peculiar how you knew that. How, I wonder?"
"I-i-i-," I stuttered. I truly was at a loss for words. The previous ones had just flown out of my mouth and now none were coming to mind. I really had no answer for how I had known something like that.
"You have no answer, as I suspected." He took one hand off of me and reached into his front jean pocket. He pulled out a small piece of paper with some writing on it and handed it to me. I accepted it and put it in my coat. "Meet me here tomorrow at 2:30, don't be late. I have other appointments to attend to."
"We'll see."
He stepped away from me, removing all contact with me leave for a single finger, which he let trail down my face. "I guess we will, my lady."
His words set off some kind of spark deep in the depths of my mind. I couldn't figure out why, but when I blinked and looked up from my confusion, he was gone. To where, I had no clue.
I set off into the dank, empty street lit dimly by the light posts, not looking back upon that sullen spot near Misery & Co. I held the slip of paper up near my face and studied the address neatly printed in cursive script on it. To go or not to go?
In the sea, in the sea, in the sea, in the sea.
Golden sunlight streamed in through the shades on the tiny window in my room. I blinked a couple times before shutting my eyes again. Today was not a day I was excited to wake up for. Actually, not many days were exciting to wake up for or that "carpe diem" shit, but you catch my drift. Besides, life on the safe side was better than death on the…dead side?
I digress.
I glanced over at the digital clock on my bedside table and remembered my appointment with that M guy. What was his name again? Oh yeah, Michaelis. And whatever his first name was. I could almost feel the name on the tip of my tongue, but I just couldn't place it. He hadn't told it to me, but some instinct in the back of my mind told me I already knew.
I rubbed my head in soft circles in order to try to relieve the throbbing headache I'd gotten from the full bottle of wine I'd drank after arriving home last night. It'd seemed like a good way to release stress at the time, but now I was seriously regretting my decision.
I got up and stumbled over to the counter in my kitchen. I kept a pretty good hangover cure in the cabinets, and that was exactly what I needed at this moment.
After concocting and consuming that, I took a quick shower and got dressed. Then, I sat down on the couch and pulled out a phone book. I flipped over to the 'M' section and searched for "Michaelis." I thumbed down and was pleasantly surprised to find that there were only seventeen people with the surname. The first was named "Lacie Michaelis," which I quickly ruled out. There were several other names that listed married couples, which I also ruled out because by the way that man had acted last night, I was pretty sure he was a bachelor. Another few of the "Michaelis's" turned out to be middle-aged and elderly men, which I had also assumed were not the man from last night. Finally, I narrowed it down to three names.
I decided to call them and see if I could recognize any of the voices as belonging to that strange fellow. The first one didn't answer, so I dialed the second one.
I heard the ringing noise on the other end and it took four rings before the person on the other end picked up.
"Hello?" The voice was certainly deep enough to be the guy from last night, but I still wasn't completely satisfied. There was something off about the voice.
"Hey…" I replied shyly. "It's, um, Seul. From last night? Do you remember me at all?"
I could almost feel the receiver on the other end smirk. "Should I remember you? You sure sound like a cutie."
I resisted the urge to throw up and answered back quickly. "Um, I don't think you are who I'm looking for. Good day."
I immediately ended the call and placed my cell back on the table. I scanned over the phone book. Only one more name, I thought dryly to myself. Well, you know, they say that third time's the charm.
I hesitantly picked up my phone and typed in the digits. The phone on the other end started ringing, but no one accepted the call and I was soon transferred to the answering machine.
Hello, you have almost reached Sebastian Michaelis.
The first few words came out of the speaker and I instantaneously knew that it was him. His slithery words were practically squirming out of the device. I bet anywhere and anyplace I would be able to identify that voice.
I regret to inform to you that I cannot answer the telephone at the moment but I will try to return your call as soon as possible. You can attempt to reach me at my work phone:
He then continued to list his phone number, which I hastily jotted down on a nearby scrap of paper and then called the place of work he had mentioned.
A young woman answered the phone politely.
"Hello? This is Christine Matthews from the Funtom Corporation. What can I help you with today?"
I took a deep breath before calmly responding into the speaking device. After all, the Funtom Company was one of the most prestigious in all of London. They made items of the highest quality in almost every field.
"Um, I was wondering if I could speak to Sebastian Michaelis?"
There was a slight pause before the woman responded. "I'm sorry, he's in a meeting currently. If you want to see him personally, you'll need an appointment. Can I get your name?"
I didn't want to him to find out I called. "No, no, that's fine. Thanks anyway. Goodbye."
I shut off my phone before she could say anything else in response. I sunk down in my seat on the leather black couch and took a moment to process everything. Sebastian was a part of a large corporation such as the Funtom Company? What kind of power and position did he hold there? What could he possibly want with me?
I decided to take my questions to the location of the world's answers: the Internet. I speedily typed in "Sebastian Michaelis" into Google on my Macbook on the coffee table and awaited the results. Almost immediately, the screen popped up with hundreds of links. I browsed through a couple but they all said the same thing.
Sebastian Michaelis is the president of the Funtom Company. Ever since gaining the position five years ago, little has been known about the head. He keeps mainly to himself and not many see him. His life in secret has caused a certain number of rumours to circulate about him. He rarely makes public appearances but is said to have donated quite an amount of money to charities in London. He is unmarried and currently has no heirs to the company's fortune. The question as to who will inherit it will be interesting to see. Although, it is rumored that Michaelis is quite young and will be around for while, so it shall be interesting to see what he does with the company.
That was from the site "Funtom Fiction." So apparently, if this Sebastian is so wealthy, what would he be doing with me? I had never met the man before and what was that contract business he was talking about? Did he want me to work at his company? Hey, my job wasn't exactly a slice of cherry pie, but I enjoyed doing it and it sufficed to pay the rent, with some money afterwards.
And going with the fact that he was basically a hermit, why would he bother coming out just to go meet with me? I wasn't anything special. Oh well, I guess some more sleuthing would be in order before I finally met with him. 3:30, did he say? Or was it 2:30? Who cares, I'm not going to bother to check. I'm going to go all Nancy Drew on this bitch.
I thought for a second about changing out of my yoga pants and North Face before I went out, but then I was kinda like "fuck it." I can go out dressed as homely as I want, even if it's with a multi-billionaire. I don't know him so I don't have to respect him. He's the same as any other person on the street, ignoring that, er, random makeout session last night. But…I regret nothing!
Throwing on a pair of worn boots and grabbing my wallet, I stepped outside my door and locked it. Then, I continued to the elevator and pushed the button for the lobby. There was no one else in the elevator for once; perfect. I hated to be in noisy and cramped elevators. I just kind of hated loud and crowded places in general. Solitude was my type of lifestyle. I guess that Sebastian guy and I had something in common. Fan-fucking-tastic.
The doors slid open on the ground floor and I got directions from the doorman to the Funtom building in London. Luckily, it was only a few blocks away so I wouldn't have to take the bus. Yay for avoiding dirt-coated floors and STD-infested seats.
I took a left at the next stoplight and passed a couple buildings until I came across the enormosity that is Funtom. To say that it was huge would be an understatement. The place was massive. I know it was the headquarters, but still. Even if I craned my neck, I still couldn't see the top. I wonder what the view from the highest floor would be like. Probably terrifying, heights weren't my thing.
I wandered in through the glass double doors and felt my mouth gape open. A giant diamond chandelier hung from the center of the lobby, elegant structures hung on the golden walls, and each piece of furniture itself looked like it cost more than my entire apartment. The people who lived in the lap of luxury definitely were affiliated with this place. Lackeys like me had no place here. Really, what did Sebastian want with me?
I ambled over to the receptionist with dark brown hair. She was wearing a slim gray pencil skirt and a frilly purple shirt that looked like it had just walked the runways in Paris. Her put-together look made me feel just the slightest bit insecure about my sloppy last-minute look.
Her nametag read "Christine," so I assumed that it was the same lady I'd spoken with this morning. She looked me over and asked, "What are you doing here?"
"Is Sebastian Michaelis available?"
"Mr. Michaelis is out at the moment, but even if he wasn't, I doubt he would have the time to see you."
I stared on at her indifferently. "So, I assume you must know him pretty well to know who he would and would not like to meet. Am I right?"
Her face began to get all flustered. "No one sees him outside of his close accomplices. Even I have never met him; I've only spoken to him on the phone. I was hired by his personal assistant."
"Then, I guess you have no right to judge whether I can see him or not, correct?" I folded my arms and smiled sweetly at her.
Christine huffed at me and I could feel the temperatures rising inside of her. "You dare question my knowledge of my own boss?"
I shrugged my shoulders casually. "I'm not suggesting anything, I just think you're putting up an act that you know more than you really do."
"Oh, really?" She stood up from her seat at the desk. "I can tell you that Mr. Michaelis is twenty-three years old, has two cats and lives on the 27th floor of the Empress Hotel. " Her breath came out in short pants as she resumed her seat and glared daggers into me.
"Excellent." I flashed a smile at her and sauntered over to the door.
"Hey! Wait a minute!" I heard Christine yell from behind me, her loud heels clacking on the floor. "Come back here!"
I figured she had continued yelling, but by that time I was already outside and had found out what I needed to know. I took my phone out of my jacket pocket and checked the time. 3:00. Eh, I still had time.
The Empress hotel was also conveniently nearby, which I found annoyingly strange. I didn't enjoy the fact that some pedo lived and worked within blocks of my apartment. You know, out of sight, out of mind? Well, I couldn't really get that if he was every freaking where I went.
Upon arriving at the Empress, I could tell that this also was a place fitting of Sebastian Michaelis's living quarters. I'm not going to go into detail about the sophistication of the place, but by the way it was decorated, I wouldn't be surprised to find that the rooms had golden toilets. Just saying.
I delicately placed my feet on the lavish carpets, afraid of leaving any dirt on their expensive fibers. A kinder looking man with light brown hair awaited me at the desk this time.
"Hello," I greeted. "I was wondering if you had any information on one of your guests, Sebastian Michaelis?"
"You mean the man who lives in the penthouse?" He queried. This time his nametag read 'Fred Abberline.' "I'm sorry, but all the information about the guests staying here is classified."
"Oh, is it now?" I played with a strand of my hair. "Well, you can't tell a lady just a tiny fragment of information?" I put a pretend pout on my face.
"W-well, I-"
"Is there a problem here?" a voice shot out from behind the brunette man. An older guy than the one at the desk appeared and fixed his glasses. His all-black suit complemented his shady swept-back black hair and that kind of piqued me. I was getting fed up with men in all-black attire as of late. Pick a different color, hoe.
"N-no, not at all, sir," Abberline stuttered. "This lady here was just inquiring about the man in the penthouse."
The new intruder shot me a dirty look. "Listen, ma'am, you don't want anything to do with that man. He's nothing but scum."
I rolled my eyes. "Like I needed a second opinion. Who're you, anyway?"
"Spears. William Spears."
"Oh, like Britney Spears?" I joked.
"Don't compare me to that horrendous pop star."
I held my hands up in protest. "All right, all right. Calm down, dude. I was just leaving."
Mr. Spears didn't even give me a friendly goodbye. "Don't come back around looking for answers about that troublesome fiend. You'll only find yourself in trouble. My advice is to stay away from the subject all together."
I clapped my hands slowly and sardonically. "Thanks for the tip, Mr. "I Keep a Stick Up My Ass."
I turned my back towards him but I could still feel his piercing gaze. I glanced at the grandfather clock on the right side of the room and saw that I had ten minutes still. Enough time to make it to my meeting with Sebastian.
And now, time for some Britney. You know, because I don't feel like walking without theme music.
I'm Miss American Dream since I was 17
'Hey, I'm actually 17!' I added mentally.
Don't matter if I step on the scene
I guess swaggering down the street to imaginary background music isn't the
most normal of things to do. Oh, like I really give a royal fuck. I do what I want.
Or sneak away to the Philippines
I nodded to some random bum on the street who in return gave me a thumbs up. I strode past a little faster than usual, mental side note not to motion to creepy people on the street. Stranger danger, motherfuckers!
They're still gonna put pictures of my derriere in the magazine
I kind of needed to get pumped before talking to possibly the creepiest guy in the UK. I mean, if I showed up there right now, I'd be freaked out of my mind. But there's nothing wrong with a little "Rocky" training mode. But instead of "Eye of the Tiger" …it's Britney Spears.
You want a piece of me?
I was only several stores down from the aforementioned place now. Just a few more steps 'til my date with the devil. Wait, what am I saying? It's just a small talk with some guy I met last night. No big deal.
You want a piece of me...
I took the slip of paper out of my wallet and scrutinized the fancy script scrawled onto it.
Meg's Café 6012 Main St.
There was nothing else written on it. Just the few words written by someone I had no clue about. Perfect.
7000 words. How's that for a first chapter? Haha, it's about time I got this here fanfic posted up. Please review and lemme know whatcha think about it!
Disclaimer: (I've started doing these at the bottom so it's less annoying). I do not own the concept, plot or characters of Kuroshitsuji, "Monster" by Lady Gaga, "In The Sea" by Ingrid Michaelson, or "Piece of Me" by Britney Spears. Thanks.