My name is Harvey Eckhart. And it just so happens that today is my birthday.
Have the guys sang happy birthday yet? Not a chance. Due to the fact I barely say anything to even my own clan means they're probably still trying to decide whether it's worth any risks. They've been more than ok just wishing me happy birthday, and I can see the relief in their faces every time I send the slightest smile in their direction.
I'm in the downstairs dormitories at the moment (though most are upstairs), just searching through my emails and ignoring friend request after friend request on Facebook. I don't see why Melvin insisted that I sign up for an account; on the rare occasion that I actually want to talk to someone, I'll find them, or they can come and find me.
Though speaking of finding people, I notice a familiar, red-haired gentleman knocking on the window and giving a calm wave in my direction. Without even giving it a second thought, I slide the bulletproof glass up (Copper believes you can never be too careful) to let Jaxx peep his head through.
"Good morning, Mr Eckhart," he chimes, smirking in a rather devious manner as he tips his hat off to me. I only speak to those who I choose to speak to, and not having said a word all morning means it's actually quite the chore to ask the obvious question.
"Just what are you doing here, Jaxx?"
"Can a gentleman not wish someone a happy birthday?" He says, staring up and pretending to be insulted before producing what looks like a handkerchief-wrapped something. "I even took the time to find you something nice."
"Is that hankie...soaked in blood?" I ask, sounding a little irked in the process. I have the feeling that Jaxx may have tried to prise the something from someone rather dangerous and the price he ended up paying was his own blood. But Jaxx is a well-covered gentleman so there's no way to properly tell.
Oh well, might as well get his little gift unwrapped. As I take the handkerchief bundle from his grasp, my fingers seem to automatically grip around the 'shape'; soon revealing the true nature of the present, I have to stop myself from sighing when I notice a very familiar sight upon removing the fabric.
"Huh, a gun," I say, raising an eyebrow. "Not like I've never handled one of thosebefore."
"I think you'll be changing your tune once you observe the handle," Jaxx replies, sounding rather confident in his tone. "I know how you love new additions to your collection."
I hate being right when it comes to things like this; not only has Jaxx managed to wrestle a gun off the Montana of all clans, but the handle of his 'present' dons the initials D.M.
Don Montana.
This is Don's actual gun and the crazy, red-haired psycho at my windowside nabbed it off him in broad daylight, most likely.
Of course, all the franticness is inside my head, as all I can feel on my face is my usual, silent stare. Jaxx catches sight and gives a titter, as if he was expecting nothing else as a reaction.
"Secretly, you're worried," he says, sounding serious before he breaks out into his trademark, psychotic smirk. "But you needn't be. He'll be too confused by why a GHEIST would attempt what I did to even suspect you."
"How are you not dead yet?" I find myself nonchalantly asking, only to be replied with one of the redhead's trademark manic grins. I think it's safe to say that he doesn't really have an answer to that question himself, but it won't stop him from pushing his luck if it means he can make sure I'm looked after properly; once again in my life, I ask 'why me of all people?', but then again, this is Jaxx we're talking about. Does he really know why he chooses who he chooses?
"Mr Eckhart, just one thing in regards to my little gift. Just promise me you won't...you know."
"Won't what?"
"You won't go out and try to score ven-"
"Harvey! Move your ass from your laptop and let me in!"
"Ah. Well it seems that that's my cue. Farewell, Mr Eckhart," Jaxx says, tipping his hat once again before closing the window and leaving without any further fuss; seriously, I wouldn't be surprised if that guy was Jack the Ripper in a past life, he's silent and swift enough when it comes to leaving the scene.
And as one redhead leaves, another makes himself known; banging on the door in a somewhat impatient manner, Melvin's really letting his stupid colours show. As he catches sight of the open slit, he carefully pushes the door and looks somewhat irked at my gesture to the fact it was obviously already open.
"I knew that," he replies, with no hint of embarrassment. "But I didn't want to give you any pleasure in declaring that I should have knocked first."
Upon noticing the gun in my hands, his tone soon changes from annoyed to somewhat impressed.
"Nice new gun there, Harv. Looks a little swanky for the likes of you if I say so myself. Bonus steal from the Montana? Still, it'll be perfect for your free shot."
For once I'm not staring him down due to his stupidity, instead staring at him a rather confused way. And he has the balls to look disappointed at the fact I have absolutely no idea what the hell he's on about.
"Come on, Harv," Melvin says, a little too eager about the situation. "One free shot on any resident in Clint City and Copper can't reprimand you for it. It's a Sentinel tradition and you just can't pass it up. Besides, don't you want to get your own back on Fabio?"
Between you and me, I could never target the Montana like that. Why? I...have my reasons. And Melvin's far from being a man who I feel is allowed to hear them, so all I can do is shrug him off and let the silence do my talking as usual.
Of course, Melvin's now shooting me a look as if to say he can't tell whether that was a yes or no, causing me to feel a little satisfied; believe me, confusing that oriental redhead is surprisingly amusing.
"Ok, I lied," he then says, sounding rather guilty as he can't bring his eyes to meet mine. "I just wanted to see your reaction at the chance of one-upping Fabio but once again, I completely misread you. You're a complicated one, Harvey, you know that?"
"You're not the first to say so," I reply, then turning to walk away from him before he can drag me into any other further conversation. However, it's never stopped him from trying, and it's certainly not stopping him now.
"Harv...HARV! Come back! We haven't even started the cake! HARV!"
The last thing I'm going to stop and turn back round for is cake, even if it's rumoured that Martha made it especially. The only thing I'm hungry for at the moment is alone time, and soon the only way I'm going to get it may be to shoot that asshole Melvin just to shut him up. I've got a brand new gun to do so...