IMPORTANT – As the title suggests, this story is connected the Blondie storyline of Relationship Problems. It takes place after one of the potential ending scenarios. With that in mind, I'd strongly recommend you read Blondie up to its current point before starting this. This project might become the replacement of Ego Problems as well. Be sure to catch my journal entry on DeviantArt to get the fullest update.
Anyway, with that out of the way, welcome! Several people have asked me to bring Beli into the Problems Series for a long time. Well, you're in luck. This right here is a trial chapter for a wider tale I want to tell. Please let me know if you like it! Now then, let's get started!
Kisses and Raindrops
How long had it been? A couple of weeks? No. A few months? Maybe more. It wasn't the most heroic of exits, but it was a way out. There was no sense in trying to justify it. It was an escape through and through. There was no sense of direction in it – just the desperate need to get the fuck away, because the whole mess of a situation was so painstakingly fucked.
Halfway down the uneven sidewalk, a backpack slung over shoulder, rain dripping from his peroxide locks, Mike Winters caught sight of vibrant neon billboards, wide concrete towers and the all too familiar sight of college girls huddled under umbrellas, trying to escape from the elements.
It was grey, it was gloomy, and dear God did the sky look vengeful today, but regardless, such precious sights brought something that resembled a smile. This was home – the place where he belonged.
"Ironic…. I was so desperate to get the fuck out when everything went down. Yet here I am. I've missed Glenberry so much."
No longer could he bum around his uncle's place, putting in a few hours here and there at the family music store to scrape some cash. Not a day more could he sit in one of the quiet bars of small-town Greenville, singing for middle edge men with beer guts who worked over at the admin offices.
A shake of the head pushed that crushing thought away. It was high time to get back on the horse, return to his rightful place in the world, and live the life he'd been so dedicated to building in the months and years prior.
Turning left, down a side street, and another, and another, past the rushing pedestrian traffic, uncaring of the rain. It was there, beyond the roaring cars and the music, tucked away in a quiet part of town, that Mike found his place of belonging.
Glass and metal towered before him – one of the newest development projects in Glenberry. Modern, spacious and perhaps a little too far out of his price range if not for his fortunate circumstances.
Taking the key from his pocket, Mister Winters smiled. It was almost exciting to see the apartment building again, a butterfly fluttering at his core.
"West Drive…. Motherfuck… I'm home."
Down the pathway, past a couple of the other tenants, both smoking feverishly under the entrance archway. Sandra and Rajit – why they came outside for their collective nicotine fix when the landlady allowed smoking in the apartments was anyone's guess.
Giving a quiet sigh, Mike put his key in the lock and nudged the door open, eyes dead ahead – senses overtaken by the clean disinfected small of the main hallway. Bright halogen illumination and clean, crisp blue paint bathed his sight. Next stop, upstairs.
The clock ticked over, slow and rhythmic within the wide, dusty confines of the apartment. It was then, leaned up against the windowsill, watching the raindrops slither down the glass, that Mike felt that oh so wonderful nostalgia slip away. The notorious romance couch, to the plasma screen, to the massive, blackish grey sound system wired up on the kitchen. Everything was here, perfectly in place, but there was one thing, more important than any physical possession, that was missing.
'Hey Playa! You have a good day? Screw some hot broads? Pound some pusaaay?'
An echo of her voice – a reminder of that wonderful time they had together, her vibrant candyfloss hair and those hypnotic, intoxicating pink eyes. A winged beauty through and through.
"Kyu…. I'm not surprised I lost you, especially after you told your boss the deal… but I'll miss you. Yeah, I'm worried, but I've got to stay strong. No more fuck ups."
There it was – sat dead in the middle of the coffee table, taunting. A lone piece of paper, cream colored with bizarre squiggles of magenta fountain pen. Hopping across to the couch, leaning over to pick it up, Mike narrowed his eyes.
The almighty final judgement – the end of a yearlong friendship between human and fairy. When the boss lady spoke, she did so elegantly without a hint of nonsense. Snooty was putting it mildly. Highfalutin was more like it.
"Venus…. I've never seen a creature like her before. One look and my heart was on fire."
It was the way she sat there, legs crossed, flanked by elegant dress-clad fairy bodyguards upon this very couch, penning the fate of another with little to no remorse. If anything, Mike needed to remember, he needed to burn the very memory into the core of his soul as to never forget.
He'd start by reading the all too painful contract one more time. Eyes taking aim, he began at the top line:
'In the interest of Love Fairy Inc. and the Lower City District of Sky Garden, I, Venus, goddess of love, have found it necessary to terminate the agreement forged between Kyu Sugardust and Mike Andrew Winters due to gross negligence.'
Gross negligence? What, an admission of personal feelings was neglecting duty? Being honest after so many months of hiding her true feelings, was the kind of thing a fairy lost her job over? Bullshit. Utter Bullshit. Fingers squeezing around the edges of the paper – Mike carried on reading.
'Kyu chose to knowingly neglect the well-being of Mike's romantic life, deciding not to tell him essential information relating to a family bond between Miss Tiffany Maye and Miss Jessie Maye. This issue in itself lead to a short-lived affair that essentially damaged the relationship prospects of both candidates.'
The reminder of that terrible mistake wasn't appreciated, but it was needed. If anything, the only way Mike was going move forward was by accepting it. Taking a breath to cool the tension, he pushed on, determined to take in the last of it.
'Instead of following guidelines, Miss Sugardust (due to her personal feelings) decided to deliberately guide her client in an unsavoury direction which she believed would ultimately favour her own ends. Given the extended period since the foundation of their contract, and no agreeable results on the relationship front, I have found that from this day onward, Kyu will be placed on an intensive course of retraining, and not be allowed to interact with Mister Winters for the near future. Their contract is hereby terminated. However, I will not be taking it upon myself to afflict Winters with purple magic.'
Eying the massive 'Terminated' stamp across the front, adorned in red and mystical sparkles, Mike brushed the paper aside. Giving a heavy sigh, thinking hard about the whole scenario one last time, he got up from the couch.
Where better to go than the liquor cabinet right now? Scooping a glass from under the counter and an unopened bottle of the good single malt, he frowned sadly, snapping off the cap. No half measures – not today. He filled the glass to the brim, glancing one last time in the direction of the paper.
"This one's for you, Kyu. A quirky, horny bitch through and through… but you have no idea how empty my life's gonna feel without you in it."
Down in one, the whole glass of glorious firewater greeting his throat in a pleasing burn. Sighing with relief, turning to look at the clock upon the back wall, Mike detached from his overly gloomy thoughts, instead deciding what to do with the rest of his day.
"Eight in the evening."
He ran through a list of potential places to go. The nightclub? No, he wasn't feeling Lusties tonight. Nutmeg Café? Not a chance. It was so quaint that he'd end up thinking about Kyu all over again. Not only that, but he'd have to deal with that grumpy waitress with the blue hair.
A light flicked on inside his head – sparking him into action. That and a quick glance toward the small lounge mirror sat upon the dinner table helped, too. Even through his tee shirt, he could see a great offence staring directly at him.
"I've put on a little weight," he groaned indignantly, clutching the tiny roll around his tummy. "That's what I get for takeout binges and cutting my workout sessions to once a fortnight. That's it… I'm going to the gym. Last I checked they're open twenty-four hours."
Sliding across the lounge hardwood, Mike kneeled down to unzip the front of his backpack, rummaging through in an attempt to find his outfit for the evening.
"Shirt and pants is a little too snappy for the gym. That and I'm sure as fuck not shadow-boxing in shoes. Ah, there they are…."
Tugging hard, he brought out a creased white vest, a little frayed around the edges, and some black sweatpants with a silver stripe down the side.
Nodding, content with his decision, the musician scooped up the articles of clothing, heading in a quickstep toward the open bathroom door.
"One… one… one two!"
Fists thumped against a punching bag, focused, refined, and in something as close to a rhythm as possible. Damn, he was out of practice, and not only that, but the seriously out of tune dance music blurring from the beat up boombox in the corner wasn't helping. A little Rock, something with a bit more fire would do nicely for a workout session.
Taking a moment to breathe, filling his stiffened lungs with a hearty mouthful of air, Mike paused in thought, his eyes of curious green darting from left to right. Was there anybody else here? No wonder it seemed so quiet aside from the background sound!
"Not a soul in sight…. Weird. There's usually a few people hanging around at this time at night… even on a weekend."
Shrugging, the tired singer reached for his towel, slinging it over shoulder and making for the greyed, dented atrocity pumping out music just across the way. Reaching out, giving the sound device a solid slap, he corrected the horrendous audible hiccups, smiling in honor of this small victory.
"Whoever owns this thing needs to get a Bluetooth speaker. A boombox? I'm appreciating the retro… but this thing's gotta be almost as old as me."
A glint of light – something just barely noticeable from the corner of the eye. On alert, especially as he was alone right now, Winters turned. Was there somebody else here after all? Moving around the abdominal crunch machine, he stopped just short of a large set of brown, double doors.
The metallic sign across the front gave it away.
"Dance Studio? How did I not notice this was here? Fuck knows - I used to come here often enough."
Pushing the heavy doors wide revealed yet another interesting realization. A long walkway leading outside connected this building to another. The dance studio was in an entirely different building too?
Propping the door with his foot, Mike slipped through, wincing as it banged shut behind, the sound echoing in tandem with the howling wind as he stood, assailed on all sides by the cold nip of night air. Yeah, the sleeveless vest was certainly a bad idea, in hindsight.
"Might as well check it out… especially since I've never seen this part of the gym before."
Every footstep across the walkway brought a squeak from his sneakers, each seemingly louder than the last. Holy shit it was slippery. Holding onto the railing for support with one hand, and flicking his drenched peroxide hair aside with the other, Mike growled, holding tight as to keep his balance in check.
The smack of a sudden windy gust against his face was far from helpful.
"I swear! Whoever decided to connect these two with a metal walkway… fucking metal… needs a boot so far up the ass."
He finally reached the other side, thank goodness – fingers scratching desperately against the wood in attempt to grip. Getting a solid hold, fingertips squeezed tight, Mike mustered everything he could, using arm strength and the post-workout adrenaline to shunt the blockade of sorts asunder.
Sliding against the wood, eyes a little delicate under the contrast of the lights, he winced, taking a breath of desperation as everything came back into proper focus.
The first thing that left his lips was a whistle – low and impressed. They certainly put more effort into this place when compared to the gym just across the way.
A wide, hardwood floor spun out underfoot, cool LED's beaming in neat little rows from above – all while mirrors reflected from both sides, creating an almost surreal trick effect, reflections infinitely lost within one another. Across the back of the room, near the door, away from the glass, there sat a neat line of benches, dotted in-between the occasional stepping stool for gymnastics and physiotherapy. Not to mention the scent, so new and fresh.
It made the travesty that was the connecting walkway fucking bearable.
Seating himself, yanking at soggy shoelaces – Mike brought his sneakers away one after the other, folding his socks inside them and kicking the pair beneath the bench, out of sight and out of mind. Barefoot wasn't his thing, but dammit hardwood flooring was a pain with socks, his apartment had taught such harsh lessons many times over.
That was when he saw her – sat in the middle of the room, so plainly in sight that it was almost stupid how he hadn't noticed until now.
An awe-inspiring, heart stopping, beautiful goddess, silky black hair pouring down her back, and a tall slender form adorned in a free-flowing, loose fitting purple pants and top. She sat, crossed legged, droplets of water escaping from her eyes, two magical whirlpools of deepest fuchsia.
Rendered speechless, Mike allowed a hand to rest upon his chest, taking measurement of the frantically elevated beats of his red organ. He wanted to speak, wanted to say anything, even if it was just an apology for barging in like this, but he couldn't.
Between her exotic features, and her almost magical way of dress, like something out of a Bollywood musical piece, she held him in place. A deeply religous man, Mike most certainly wasn't, but he couldn't help but wonder if he was in the presence of an Indian deity, perfection incarnate.
"I'm so sorry," she sniffled, quiet and reserved, placing an arm around her exposed midriff. "What must you think of me, sat here like this?"
Without another word, the girl dried her eyes, unfolding her legs to sit with two hands held together in a neat clasp. Despite her best efforts however, those tears didn't stay at bay for long.
There was something about this scene, so tragic, so heart wrenching in its own way. It was a real fight to keep the guilt under control. Whoever this young woman was, she looked to be beside herself.
"No," he was quick to counter – desperate to find a way to pardon such an insensitive intrusion. Talk about awful – this was obviously a tender, personal moment.
"It's my fault. I didn't know anyone was here. Seriously, I was just looking around. I'll grab my stuff and get out of your way."
First port of call was to collect his shoes. Reaching under the bench, Mike brought them out, pulling his socks free from within.
"Beli. Beli Lapran... and please… don't leave on my account."
Mike froze up – silenced by the sincerity of her voice. Outside of the now resolved name issue, there were so many questions. Why was she here, sat alone like this so late at night? Not an inch of her was damp, either. Just how long she'd been hidden away in this quiet corner of the fitness centre was anybody's guess.
There wasn't much he could say, nothing with enough sentiment to match, anyway. Not that he needed to. Beli was doing all the talking, and not just with a handful of shy, mousey words, but by way the sheer emotion pooling from her eyes.
She was saying one thing, through her expression, through the way she watched his every move nervously. Please don't leave me.
An ounce of kindness would go a long way here. Tossing his shoes aside, Mike got up, moving to join her, kneeling with a softness to his expression. "Mind if I ask what's wrong? It's getting late… and I'd hate to see you sat in here by yourself all night."
At first, Beli shrank away, a wilting violet within a wide, empty garden of sorts. Fragile was a word that came to mind, and if anything, it was downright cruel to leave a lady looking as such.
"You need not worry about me. I'm here to centre myself… to get my energies in balance. Besides… I don't even know your name."
Of course, how could he forget?
"Name's Mike Winters. Just a guy who felt like swinging by for few rounds against the punching bag."
"Well, Mister Winters…."
Beli looked off, gazing into the rain drenched windowpane at the front of the studio, seemingly lost to the droplets of water as they slithered down in slow, almost artistic patterns.
"Would you mind terribly if I asked you a question. I know we've just met but… I'd be quite grateful for your company."
After the countless shitty mistakes and things he'd done wrong, there wasn't a chance in hell he'd pass up an opportunity to do some good.
Mike Nodded softly, greeted by a sad, lonely smile from his newfound acquaintance as she looked back. "Of course. Ask away… and I'll do what I can to help you out."
"Okay," she paused, preparing herself with a small, shaky breath. "Have you ever wondered where we go when it's our time? Forgive me for the personal question but… do you think we get a second chance? An afterlife?"
A deep and meaningful question through and through. "I'm not all that religious…. Spiritual, maybe, flat out religious, no."
It took a little time to ponder, to find an answer that really meant something. Belief wasn't something Winters brought up all too often, yet deep within, buried somewhere at the centre of everything, a light glowed softly in support of the idea.
Right now, a nod was the best thing he could give. "Yeah… I like to think so. I mean, I couldn't begin to guess where we go when we pass… but there's a place out there... somewhere..."
It was hard not to believe in such things, especially after a fairy crashed in so boldly a little over a year back.
Kyu had certainly changed his whole perspective.
Beli gave a relieved sigh, reaching out to clasp his hands, cheeks reddening under their small union of sorts. "I'm glad you think so…. You see, I'm struggling with my home life right now."
"But," again, she stopped flat. "I won't say anything more. You must think I'm such a bother, opening up to you like this. I'm sure you have problems of your own to deal with. You don't need to hear silly little me going on and on."
Mike shook his head – tightening his hold upon her hands in a showing of support. She seemed to shiver under the additional contact, but didn't back away in the slightest. "No. Don't say that. My issues aren't worth jack in comparison. Beli… doesn't matter if you're a stranger… You're hurting and you need a shoulder to lean on. Talk to me."
"It's my grandmother," the Indian beauty clarified, closing her eyes in reflection. "She's quite seriously ill at the moment. I worry she doesn't have much time left. It's old age… heart problems."
Mike felt a sting, sharp and unforgiving, flashing him back to a different time and a different place, his photographic memory recalling the sight of a familiar headstone. Angela.
"Go on," tidying away his own emotions – locking them behind a wall, he stayed quiet, content to let Beli keep on talking.
"Well… they say she needs surgery… a transplant, but it isn't that simple. You see, I used to attend a business degree, but I stopped halfway to care for Awa. Mother and father live at the other side of the country, out on the east coast."
Beli took in a deep breath, squeezing down hard against Mike's hands, shuddering as yet another deluge of watery pain slipped free. "She's ninety-four. They say she might be too fragile cope with the procedure… and even with the help of my parents… we still don't-"
Breaking down – she sobbed freely.
No way could Mikey watch this any longer. His heart, his conscience, everything that made him human, screamed against it. Taking his hands back, he put a pair of gentle, caring arms around Beli's shoulders, bringing her close in a cradling, compassionate cuddle.
Shushing her as she cried against the nape of his neck, the singer discarded all of his own petty fears; all of his worries, wanting instead to do nothing more than provide comfort.
"You're fine," he reassured her – playing the part of an older sibling as he patted her back with his palm. "Take as long as you need. I don't care if it gets to midnight…. I'm here for you…."
Eventually, after all the snorting and sniffling, Beli inched back, her beautiful eyes puffy and swollen – hair in a seriously scruffy mess of waves and frizz. Her expression conveyed a thankfulness – one so demure and sincere that it almost knocked Mike flat on his back.
"Thank you," she whispered, not letting go for a moment. "How could I ever begin to repay you? You don't know me and I don't know you…. It's not often you find someone kind enough to bare your burdens."
"No charge," Mike insisted, offering a warm, friendly smile. "I'm not exactly the best person in the world myself… but if I can make a difference… even if it's just this once… then I'm happy."
Beli leaned in again, drinking up his warmth in one last squeeze.
"Well, Mike…. I'd be honored if you kept in touch. That's if you can deal with me seeing me again. I feel like a terrible pain for bothering you, and it simply won't sit right until I've done something to show my thanks."
Talk about role reversal. Now it sounded as though Beli felt guilty. She'd done nothing wrong!
Yet there was something aglow within those fuchsia pools of hers, like a beacon lighting the way within a dark, mesmerizing ocean. It made one thing clear as day – she wasn't going to back down. In her own gentle way, Miss Lapran was insisting.
Finally giving in, Mike bowed his head in approval. Slowly edging back from their shared embrace, he reached into the confines of his pocket and pulled out the Huniebee, running his fingers across the smooth, tactile edges. A magical masterpiece.
Why Venus didn't confiscate his lifeline to the fairy world when she had the chance was beyond sense – but he wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Giving a flick of the screen, he waited for Beli to catch up, as she brought her own, far simpler flip phone from the confines of her purple pants.
An exchange of numbers later and they were good to go, the dark-haired girl giving a regal bow. There she was again, being so respectful.
"You don't need to be so nice," Mike assured. "All I did was give you some of my time. Anybody else out there wouldn't done the same, seeing a girl as beautiful as you looking so dejected."
A soft gasp slipped free from Beli's delicate pink lips, "B-beautiful," she stammered, looking away shyly. "Goodness me. I- I don't quite know what to say…."
Silence hung over the room – an invisible wall of sorts dividing the two. Damn. He hadn't meant to let that slip, even if it did come from an honest, truly compassionate place. Yeah, he'd about outstayed his welcome now, the thickness in the air spelled it out quite clearly.
So, getting to his feet, Mike gave Beli one last supportive gesture, providing a thumbs up before moving in the direction of his discarded shoes.
"If you need me then don't be afraid to drop a line, Beli. Most of the time I work on Fridays and weekends, so I'm usually free Monday to Thursday."
She'd shuffled to her feet, greeting him up close and personal by the time he'd slipped his footwear back on, socks and all.
"Mike…"
There was something different about Beli's tone, nervous yet, strangely empowered – far different from her reserved, soft-spoken demeanour in the moments before. Not to mention her hands were trembling, those cheeks of hers so damn red she'd shine if somebody turned out the lights.
Taking a deep breath, and another, and even a third, Beli brought her hands outward, trembling as her fingers, so beautifully soft, caressed his cheeks.
"I can't believe I'm doing this but… you seem to be a wonderfully kind individual. Again, thank you…. Thank you from the bottom of my heart…."
Lips, tender in their intent, edged ever closer, brushing against his cheek and pressing down in an innocent kiss. There they stayed for many a long, precious moment. A pleasing, fluffy sensation filled Mikey to the core as they departed. Beli remained fixated on the hardwood underfoot.
A genunine kiss, vastly different from anything he'd experienced prior – one that in its own special way held so much loving sentiment.
It was like watching an innocent schoolgirl confess her crush for the very first time. There was no doubt - this girl held the kind of purity that was lost to the world. All she wanted was to share her compassion, to show her heart in all of its splendor.
"Beli…."
"Now if you'll excuse me," she spoke up – silencing the endless tsunami of thoughts raging within Mike's mind. "I really must be off. I have to wake up early for a morning yoga class. Until the next time I see you, stay safe and be at peace."
Without another word, she bolted, out of the door and into the pouring rain before he could muster so much as a response. It was there, left in the silence of the dance studio, that Mike took his time to reflect, happy and surprised in equal measure, gazing into the infinity of his reflection.
Bringing his fingers to rest upon the place where Beli's angelic lips had been, he gave a tiny smile.
"I think I can call my first day back in town as a success. Feels like I did something good for a change. All I can hope is that I really got through to her."
His other hand sliding downward, settling upon the centre of his chest, he let out a tiny sigh. "Heart problems? Well… Old Lady Lapran… I hope you stay strong…. My best wishes go with you…"
To be continued?
So, there you have it, the end of Kisses and Raindrops' first chapter. Did you like it? Is there anything you'd like to see in future? Are there any Beli fans in the room that particularly enjoyed it? Let me know!
I'm also going to put the current Envy Problems poll on hold to open a new one. Do you want to see more? Cast your vote! You're more than welcome to leave feedback in any form you wish.
As always, keep on supporting Huniepop and Huniecam Studio! I'll see you in the next chapter of whatever it is I'm writing!