Bar Talk
The pulse thrummed through the floor and into my fluttering chest, every beat coursing through the very fibers of my being. . . and destroying my ear drums. Why we chose this place, I have no idea, but we came here every Friday night. No, we never came here to dance with the other jiving bodies or to pick up a few dates, things you would normally do at a high class nightclub. We came to do business.
After flashing our IDs to the bouncer at the door, we waltzed in to the main arena of the club: the bar and dance floor. All the senses were a-buzz from the ear-pumping bass to the sight-blinding strobes. While my partner, Soul Evans, checked his cell phone for texts, I gazed through the smoky blackness, trying to catch a glimpse of exactly all who were here. It was impossible with the constant movement of colored lights and twisting forms. Instinctively, my hand reached down the fabric of my little black dress and brushed the discreet bulge on my thigh. I always packed, just in case. You never knew who was full of enough grudges and alcohol to try and pull something. At least I never came alone and my partner always kept a close eye on me.
Seeming to sense my slight anxiety, Soul tapped the back of my hand and jerked his head to his right, indicating me to follow. We weaved through the swaying mass towards the spiraling black stair case at the back corner leading up to the balcony dining area and private booths. I stifled a giggle at seeing my partner's snow-white hair change from green to red to blue in the roving lights.
We finally arrived at one of the private rooms, particularly our weekly reserved room: the Red Room. Soul slid back the black-paneled door and stepped aside to let me in first. The entire room was in various shades of red: Red couches lined the walls, a red-wood coffee table sat between them on luscious red carpet. The walls were maroon with dull red light fixtures. Usually these private rooms were here for . . . well . . . private matters. But we were here for rather different private matters: business, remember?
"Ah! Maka! Soul! You guys finally made it! Of course you would be late," Kid greeted. He sat sipping on a glass of red wine between his twin partners, Liz and Patty, who held margaritas.
"Lookin' sexy, Maka!" Liz held up her glass towards me and winked. Patty simply cheered and took another swig of her fruity drink. Honestly, I don't know why they let that girl have alcohol.
"The Great and Powerful Black*Star will not tolerate your lateness!" yelled the overly obnoxious Black*Star, sitting opposite Kid.
"Oh get over yourself, everyone! Sheesh! You're acting so not cool," Soul said, sliding the door shut behind him.
Black*Star pouted and moodily crossed his muscular arms over his beefy chest. Soul plopped down next to Black*Star and poked him in his star tattoo on his shoulder.
"C'mon, I was only joking! You're cool!" Soul grinned, revealing his dangerously sharp teeth. Black*Star grinned in reply and leaned back on the couch, putting both arms on the back rest of the sofa. His beautiful but deadly partner, Tsubaki, blushed slightly. Her long black pony tail swished away from Black*Star's hand as she smiled and waved at me.
"Hi, everyone!" I said, waving back at Tsubaki.
"Geeze, what a dork," Soul teased.
"Hey!" I jabbed at him.
He responded by grinning and patting the empty space on the couch next to him. I slid into the space near him as he casually slid an arm on the back of the couch behind me.
Kid turned to us, a serious expression on his face, like always. "Soul, Maka, nice job on the last mission."
"Hai," we said in unison while nodding our heads.
The door suddenly slid open and the blast of bass that, up till now had been a mere pounding, flew in. A scantily clad waitress entered.
"Drinks for the newcomers?" she asked in a sugary voice, eyeing the boys like candy.
"I'll have a Jack with Coke, and she'll have a kiddie cocktail," Soul ordered, eyeing the waitress's cleavage with his stark red orbs.
A vein throbbed in my head. "A kiddie cocktail?" I raged, thrusting a fist in Soul's face.
He simply grinned mischievously, saying, "Yeah, cuz you don't look old enough to drink, Flatty."
That's it! My fist smashed down on the top of his head. Then I turned to the waitress who had, like the rest of the people in the room, sweat-dropped.
"Gimme a Pena Colada," I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest, hiding the fact that my partner's reference to my chest size was all too accurate. I'm a late bloomer, okay?
The chick laughed nervously. "Sure, hon, but I need to see some ID first."
I twitched. Really? I grabbed Soul's limp body by his pinstriped suit jacket and dug in the inside breast pocket. He kept both of our IDs in his wallet for occasions such as this so I wouldn't have to worry about the trivialities of carrying a purse to a nightclub. Nice guy, right? Only on rare occasions.
I thrust the ID in her face just long enough for her to catch my picture and birth date. Then, without a word, she bolted.
Soul finally regained consciousness and the normalities of the evening proceeded. Black*Star made outrageous declarations about his greatness. Kid had an OCD breakdown about the asymmetry of the carpet. Patty cracked up about something that wasn't even funny. Liz made sarcastic remarks while trying to calm Kid down. Soul slumped back all "cool-like" next to me, drinking his Jack and Coke and tugging playfully on my hair every so often. Tsubaki apologized for absolutely no reason. And I smiled and kept the conversations moving, along with bantering with Soul here and there. Yup, this was our little group!
Now where is the business that I keep mentioning, you ask. Well, we weren't just a group of friends out having some drinks on a Friday night. We were your less-than-average specialty assassin team of technicians and weapons. The things that you worried about only in nightmares were our day jobs. Well, we mostly worked at night, but evil occasionally came out in broad daylight.
Let's just say we made a living off exterminating your nightmares, and we were good at it, too.
"Well there was something important I wanted to talk about," Kid said after a break in the conversations. Everyone shifted in various ways in order to face Kid better, giving him their undivided attention. "My father has told me that Shibusen intelligence agents have been picking up on some rumored witch activity. Nothing has been confirmed for sure yet, and no one knows motives. They're just rumors. However, we've also been picking up increased insanity waves."
Everyone stiffened. Insanity waves had almost ruined everything we had known and loved back when we were a last-resort team in high school. None of us went unscathed by the effects of those waves.
Kid continued, "Our team has not been called into action just yet, lesser teams of older Shibusen students are taking care of things for now."
I heard Black*Star snicker a little. Yeah, that was just a nice way of saying their fulfilling extra curricular lessons. We'd been in that boat only a few years ago.
"But, we need to be on our toes and on watch. There's no telling if this is just a ruse or a legitimate concern. Be prepared to be called on last minute, understood?"
"Hai," we all responded in unison with complete seriousness, a rarity for us.
This was interrupted by Soul slamming his third glass of Jack Daniels mixed with Coke on the table. The atmosphere was heavy.
"Well, whatever happens, we can handle it," Soul said, eyes closed for effect.
I smiled, the tension in the Red Room dissipating.
"You mean I, the god, Black*Star, can handle it!" Black*Star shouted, jumping on the table and pointing dramatically into the air.
Everyone rolled their eyes, except Soul, who jumped on the table with Black*Star and started bickering with him, "You idiot! You ruined my moment!"
"Just my presence sets the atmosphere!" Black*Star shouted back at Soul.
I sighed and debated the consequences of stepping in and ending this. The last thing I wanted was the two to start a brawl in here. They could both do serious damage to the place, even if alcohol wasn't involved.
The two continued bickering, Tsubaki politely tugging on Black*Star's arm, trying to get him to back down. This was responded to with a "Black*Star never backs down from anything!"
I sighed and slumped into the plush sofa. This could only end in some sort of a disaster.
Kid abruptly stood up with an annoyed look on his face. "I think we should call it night, shouldn't we gentlemen?"
The two short-fused boys continued staring each other down, but finally retreated off the table and didn't say anything else. I mouthed a quick "Thanks" to Kid, who merely nodded and made to leave.
Soul hastily snatched his jacket saying, "Come on, Maka, it's late." He slung his coat over his shoulder and grabbed my elbow.
I barely got to tell anyone 'good-bye' before he whisked me out of the room and back into the pulsing club. Sometimes I will never understand him.