Author's Note: So, another story beginning. Hopefully it'll be... better than that other one. (Oddly enough I get rather embarrassed about previous stories because I notice plot-holes and stupid mistakes. I hope I'm improving).
Title: Liquid Courage
Summary: Bryan cares too much about Tala: who doesn't feel the same way. What else is there to do but drown his sorrows in liquor? Other than humiliate himself in front of Robert and fall in love with the snob, obviously.
Warnings: Male/Male relationship, Sensitive Topic (alcohol abuse), swearing/vulgar language. If any of these offend you, please do not read this story and click back.
Chapter One
"Listen to the moron," Bryan scoffed, he hated anyone with an attitude worse than his. He hated anyone who thought they were untouchable and so the dislike he felt for Robert Jurgen was undeniable.
There had to be a charity event for the BBA seeing as the amount of damage that it had sustained last year - stocks fell, people just didn't want to beyblade after the 'Brooklyn incident'. It wasn't that the BBA had made the last few, more privileged, bladers stand up and talk for a good half hour to try and interest others.
"Going on about donations," Bryan glanced back up to watch the aristocrat spout some nonsense about good sportsmanship and the need for more sponsors. Hiwatari was rich and annoying but not even in the same way. Robert acted as if he had more class, more knowledge than everyone around him. Hiwatari just was stubborn this guy was what Bryan classed as a rich snob. He'd probably never had one hard day in his life - and that pissed Bryan off.
Still it were as if the whole world had stopped just to listen to Robert speak and that was the final strike with Bryan. How could one person gain and thrive while so many people were watching, depending on him? "What's the point in us being here, Tala?" Bryan frowned at the captain hoping that he would sense his mistake and finally give them the chance to leave. Bryan could easily walk out of here, but he doubted he could do it on his own - attention was not something in which he favoured.
Having a beybattle was different, the attention was never really on the blader for more than a few seconds. It was of course of the beybattle itself, and just to make sure Bryan didn't gain the spotlight which he detested so: he'd attack the blader in front of him. All of the audience would note their wounds, their faults but never anything of Bryan's. They'd be too busy looking at the loser of the beybattle to note anything wrong with him.
"We told Mr. Dickenson we'd come and unfortunately," Tala glanced at the rest of the team: even Ian was back this year, not much had changed apart from his height. "We've still got a while to go." He could tell that everyone's patience was wearing thin, well at least the Demolition Boys' patience was taking a plunge. Perhaps the camera crew were also beginning to get fed up? They didn't look too interested in what Robert was saying to the rest of the oh-so-mighty stock holders.
"Can't we just leave..." Bryan hissed, "if I have to listen to that guy say something else about being the European Champion, I'm going to have a fit." Spencer sighed to himself as he saw Bryan begin to fidget. This wouldn't end well, when Bryan said he was having a "fit" or going to, it wasn't some form of epileptic fit nor convulsions which required any medical attention. It was more like waves of anger which would be released on anyone and everyone within a two mile radius. An angry Bryan was certainly a dangerous foe, especially if he had either Falborg with him or a drink in hand.
A round of applause let Bryan's hell end, finally he shut up...
Robert couldn't help but feel oddly paranoid as he glanced around the room, most people had shook his hand and congratulated him on his wonderful speech. It should have been wonderful, he'd had to pay quite a sum for that speech - although there was only one thing wrong with it. It did, as it was suppose to, the stock-holders would be more than willing to re-invest in the BBA. It however did not stop the silver haired teenager at the front from glaring at him.
Even if Robert gave a quick glance to where the young man was sitting, he couldn't help but catch the cruel glare again. What had he done wrong? It wasn't as if he had humiliated the boy before... Robert frowned, perhaps he'd beybladed him? Maybe he was just being a sore loser? There was no other explanation and with that Robert cast a disgusted look in Bryan's direction.
There wasn't many people left in the hall when Robert had decided to sign his death wish by giving Bryan a dirty look - one of which all of the Demolition Boys had noticed. With a simple jerk of Tala's head they all stood up and left, Spencer hauling a very pissed Bryan behind him. "Calm it, Bryan." Ian hissed as the bladers' attempts to escape the blonde's grip. What had infuriated Bryan most was not the glance but the way Robert was now looking at him - a small frown and a somewhat perplexed expression. Was this guy trying to get killed today? Was he trying to imply that Bryan was acting weird, implying that Bryan was different from others?
Robert sighed loudly when he noticed that the boy was finally dragged by his friends out of the hall. "Which team was seated here?" He turned to one of the older men, the owner of such a magnificent building. Still he frowned when Robert asked, and quickly flicked through the paper on a small light clipboard.
"The Demolition Boys," Robert frowned at the name, he had definitely heard of them but he was sure that he had never beybladed the glaring boy before, "it consists of Tala Valk-" Robert shook his head motioning that the man stop reading. Robert didn't care too much about the rest of the team, they hadn't exactly been polite by yawning and slouching... but they hadn't glared at him as if he was the devil.
"Who was the boy with the argent hair?" Robert questioned the butler who hadn't left his side most of the evening, he had apparently been panicking more about this event than he had. Maybe the old man was getting a little too old for this line of work? Still he was useful, and unlike Robert's parents he was always around and most importantly, he was reliable.
"That would be, Bryan Kunzetsov." The name rung a bell in his mind, he had beybladed Rei Kon, former BladeBreaker and landed the boy in hospital. A fierce competitor or as some said a sadist, whichever category the boy belonged in didn't make Robert to rethink the first decision that popped into his mind.
"Send out a beyblade challenge to Mr. Kunzetsov and report to me, in detail, his answer." The butler bowed and quickly went after the team that had suddenly left, leaving Robert to go home and take a quick look at his beyblade before the battle would be accepted. This way he could make sure that the boy would definitely have a reason to dislike him.
"I'm here to issue a beyblading challenge." Bryan was a little confused when the older man appeared out of seemingly nowhere and requested such a thing. He was old enough to be someone's grandfather - perhaps he had gone senile. Bryan was sure he'd seen this man before though he couldn't quite place the wrinkled face to anywhere in particular. He'd always been bad at remembering trivial stuff...such as people.
"A beyblade challenge? From you?" Bryan scoffed when he heard Ian chuckle, he really wasn't a bad blader - so why on earth was he getting a challenge from an old fart like this? Even Tala appeared to be having a good ol' snicker at this one. Bryan's pride was hurt by the fact that this old man probably thought he could beat him.
"No - Master Jurgen." There was sudden relief, however Bryan couldn't help but frown at the name, he had no idea who this Master Jurgen was. Some rich snob? Probably only they would send out another person to issue a challenge. Seeing his confusion Tala decided to fill him in on who Master Jurgen was.
"Robert?" Bryan scowled at the name, he knew who that was instantly as the speech he had given a few hours ago was still being repeated inside Bryan's head. It wasn't even the best part of the speech just the '...as you know I am the European Champion...' It made Bryan want to stand out and yell something along the lines of, 'And?' It was a pointless title to be a regional champion: it was the World Champion that was the goal of many and would no doubt be more respected.
"No, if he wants to beyblade me, he can get off that royal high-chair of his and come find me, himself." Bryan smirked when he saw the old man raise his eyebrows in surprise. There were less than a handful of people that had declined a beybattle from Robert: but none had said it with such an attitude.
"He'd probably be alright," Ian chuckled, "if he got that stick out his ass." The fact was that the Demolition Boys had a great disregard for the rich - after what had happened to them, all because of two rich old guys, their lives were a lot different than everybody else's. It justified their attitude towards most: however they knew it was no excuse for any wrong actions. Seemingly it was why the Demolition Boys were grateful they had a bad-ass stereotype in the first place, people now expected them to be cruel just for the sake of it.
"You tell, Mr. Rich-Kid that he's no blader in my book. Can't even challenge people without looking at them in the eye." The man seemed taken aback by the comment and scowled at Bryan, though as the Russian team walked off the older man heard one of the other team mates mutter, "What a coward." The butler was not sure on how to handle the information...
Master Jurgen did want a detailed report after all.
Robert hadn't been too surprised when his butler has appeared with a declined invitation. The fact was Robert had more important things to worry about for the meanwhile. In only a matter of months would he be starting to work and this hobby of his would need to take a back-seat to his father's work. Sighing Robert sat straight on leather car seat of the limo, he wanted to slouch on his seat, or curl up in a ball and feel somewhat more comfortable in his journey. I cannot do such a thing, bad posture would give out the wrong kind of messages, I cannot be seen being lazy.
Journeying wasn't a bother for the aristocrat: he'd merely stare out at the world around him knowing that he would indeed never be able to have half the freedom they people playing in the park would have nor would they have the financial security his own family provided him. There was someone up ahead on the small stone bridge which Robert had on a few occasions asked to stop near... The small river below was an adequate place to practice his beyblading without interference from anyone else.
Robert merely asked the driver to stop and he did so readily, scurrying around to the door and opening it up for Robert to step out. Bryan wasn't happy to see the purple-haired kid again. There was a time and a place for people to annoy him, belittle him and it certainly wasn't after Bryan had been in a few fights; both of the physical and beybattle kind.
"What'd you want, Rich-Boy?" Bryan tensed when he noticed that the young man was smiling, as if hiding a secret joke from him - or making fun of him mentally. Stupid rich, snob...He doesn't know anything. Robert watched his driver slam the door and wander back to the drivers seat, obviously not intending to listen in on the conversation.
"Stop with the inferior insults." Robert sighed, running a hand through his hair: oddly enough the air was humid and Robert was finding himself most irritated by it. The heat bothered him greatly. "I'm here to challenge you to a beybattle," the request was not meant to shock or even so much as raise an eyebrow of Bryan's however Robert was surprised to see just how disgusted Bryan looked.
"I'm not battling you." Bryan hissed, he was tired: couldn't this guy just leave him alone before he went mental at him? He might be arrested for assaulting someone or breach of the peace but Bryan would not hold back if this stupid little kid wouldn't move out of his way. He couldn't even issue his own beybattle challenges, why should he even look in his direction?
"Are you frightened that I'll win and your tough-guy facade will all be for naught?" Robert was surprised to see that Bryan was a lot calmer than what he had imagined. Surely he should be stark raving mad like he had been at the hall. Still Bryan had had enough of beyblading today. He had taken out two entire beyblading gangs, who thought that he'd just hand over Falborg as if he hadn't a care in the world. That had only been the first, the second had been more forceful, and Bryan was sure he was going to feel those kicks tomorrow.
"Enough with the baiting, it ain't working." Robert inclined his head wondering what he could do to entice the blader to beyblade him. There wasn't much he could do if he refused, maybe offer him the chance to beybattle him on some other occasion but forcing Bryan to blade wasn't what Robert had in mind. Robert wanted to beat this boy very badly, so he could at least ease his mind into thinking that the reason why he wasn't liked was because Bryan was merely jealous and nothing else.
"What problem do you have with me?" Robert folded his arms over his chest now becoming a little more paranoid with why Bryan was so cold towards him. He knew, he had heard those rumours, that the Demolition Boys were cold. That they didn't care about anyone else apart from themselves, but really - the sheer intensity in which Bryan was glaring at him made Robert feel angry. Bryan was resenting him for some unknown reason, what else was he to do but ask?
"I hate you." Bryan smirked when he saw the boy in front of his frown; as if he'd just insulted his family. Bryan could feel his leg start to tremble, after the gash given by one of those sneaky bastards had caught him by surprised. It was pretty deep, but there was no point in yelping about it... The pain would disappear eventually, just like with everything else.
"Hate? You know nothing-" Robert was furious, how dare some commoner state that he hated him without any logical reason. It was as if Bryan had already decided on whether or not he was a good person or not. Robert cursed under his breath: he had enough people to make good first impressions with and knowing that this young man had made such a quick deduction made Robert worried. What if he couldn't impress those businessmen? They'd no doubt be harder to please than this common blader.
"You're pathetic." Bryan shrugged, he really needed to get out of here; his leg was beginning to throb now that the adrenaline had worn off. No doubt he'd hear a mouthful from Tala or Spencer if it got infected and he couldn't blade well enough. Robert was staring at him, something that Bryan couldn't help but be unnerved by - it were as if he was looking for a weakness, a fault... Bryan scoffed at the aristocrat and turned on his heel hoping that he could quickly go back the way he came from, but not bump into those other bladers again.
It was a little surprising seeing none other than Kai Hiwatari suddenly appear out of nowhere. "Hiwatari." Bryan hissed at him, eyes narrowing and hands clenching. Robert however witnessed the conversation that was occurring between them and one that he found interesting. Kai and Bryan apparently didn't enjoy others company or so it seemed with the glaring match which ensued for a good few minutes.
"Not everyone with money is evil." Kai hissed before walking off, Robert frowned at the comment and watched as the enigma wandered off. On the other hand Robert glanced back to where Bryan had been standing but was disappointed to see that the blader had already disappeared. Where had he gone now?
"I wonder what that scene was all about...?" Robert rubbed his head, he would need to arrive back at the manor soon his mother would be back with some rather interesting news and garments from her day out. Robert sighed as he quickly entered the luxurious car again, this time however... Bryan wasn't leaving his thoughts as the silver haired boy had made him most worried about his meeting tomorrow. Bryan had not truly meant to say hate, perhaps an exaggeration on his behalf? If so, how on earth was he meant to get some close-minded fools to be fond of his company?
