She fell asleep in the middle of a fucking rave. She literally pulled that job off in less than 15 minutes and now she's asleep. And wait, I'm fucking cuddling her. What in the hell?! Matt needs to hurry up before anything goes down. I have no idea what happened after she took that girl in the private bathroom. I assume she left her alive or we'd be getting out of here but I've been surprised before. Alraune can always surprise me. In fact, I didn't realize just how tightly I was holding her till now. Why did I even grab her up in the first place? That's something Matt does, not me. Not Mello. Looks like it's time for chocolate and a text to Matt. His phone better be on him.
There are way too many people in here and I hate these things if I can't drink. Matt promised he'd play one set but he just keeps on chugging red bulls and moving on to the next song. I hope she got what we needed. This whole thing is in a way my fault. If I had stayed in LA I could have continued to work for Rod, possibly even taken over as his successor since he didn't have any sons. He would have set me up with one of his daughters who are basically fucking perfect future mob wives. Matt could have just been on payroll as IT and this could be his side job. Being number two again just wasn't going to cut it for me. Not after all of those years being second to Near. Alraune says that I have a borderline personality disorder. I was really pissed off when she said that. Like, who gives a shit about her opinion? She just laughed when I asked her that very question and said "I didn't mean it in any way other than the way I meant it. It's a fact. You exhibit all of the signs. I myself have the same signs. I just hope one day you find someone or something that can tone it down for you and be the rock you need. You just need something that will never go away, something that will always remain even when there's nothing left of you anymore." Honestly, I was caught off guard by that statement. What could possible remain when nothing else could and when I had nothing left either? I'll just keep munching away on this chocolate bar till that answer reveals itself.
I guess it's been nice, though. Having her around seems to make Matt a lot happier and even more sociable. I can respect someone who can speak to me the way she does. She never pulls any punches and she tells it like it is. I also know that she doesn't have sticky fingers when it comes to the drugs I deal. In fact, she doesn't take anything unless given to her or agreed upon. I know she likes nice things and I do as well. But, she never goes out of her way to pick up a job because it means a big pay out. I guess I can respect that, too. Overall, I can tolerate her. So, that's why this situation is even more confusing. She's completely against me and her lips keep brushing against my collar bone. Her breath is hot and smells like mixed berries. It's nice. Why the fuck did I just think that?
"Can I get you anything, sweetie?" The cocktail waitress chirps as she removes my empty coke can. She's wearing the outfit they all have to wear up here. Heels, hair pulled back in a high pony tail, and a skimpy leotard. Her shoulders boast faux military insignias from God-knows-where. Over-all, she's a cute little brunette that on any other night I'd bring home with me. "No." I take a particularly harsh bite of my chocolate bar and level a glare at her. I just want to be left alone and I said it before after she brought me the drink. I can tell my glare worked because she's practically shaking. "Well… what about her?" She looks down nervously and I don't really understand. "What?" Brown eyes flash up to mine. "Her." She hesitantly points at Alraune and as if on cue she snuggles closers into me and makes the most adorable face. You know, if you could find her adorable. "I almost knocked your girlfriend down the stairs coming up. I asked my boss if I could give her a drink on the house. Do you know what she'd want when she woke up? Or is she… you know….already done for the night?" At the last part she makes the cut off sign with her hand. The music blares and the strobe starts up before I can catch the face I must have made. I'm angry that she won't take the hint and leave and the fact that she just assumes that she's my, never mind. I won't even say it. "She's not my….I don't know….." I mean, would she be thirsty? I guess I could just wake her up. "Hey, get the fuck up. What do you want to drink?" I shake her and push her away. Why, because I'm Mello and I don't give a shit.
When I take a look at Alraune's face the glare she gives me is enough to make even me want to shake from fear. As if she remembered herself, the look disappears and she simply says "I want to fucking sleep but I'll take a Becks and vodka shot. Thank you." The waitress runs away and if her leather pumps could have been heard over the music of the rave the sound would have been deafening. Alraune scoots away and looks over the railing and I can't help but feel slightly like a jerk for waking her up like that. I just don't do well with emotions and I don't play well with others. That was basically the disclaimer that was mumbled before every meeting of a new orphan at Wammy's House.
I feel her hand on my thigh as she lays something on it. Her hand pulls away and it feels like there is a fire beneath my skin, another reason why I loathe to be touched by her. I look down and see that it's a phone and the USB. Thank God, she got it. I need this if I'm ever going to become the number one mob boss. The information on this USB is going to destroy Rod and my enemies in Europe. The phone, though, is a mystery. I didn't ask her to get this and I don't want unneccisary risks being taken while on the job. She could get hurt and Matt would be upset. I guess I would be too but Matt is my only concern here. With my regular smoothness I say "Why did you grab the shitty phone? We only needed the USB." She turns to me and gives me the most un-amused look. "Isn't it obvious why I took the phone?" Her voice is heavy with sarcasm and sleep. She really looks like shit. Her eyes are glassed over and rimmed with pink. Her lips are pouty liked she'd been crying. Has she been crying? I searched her eyes and felt myself shudder as I took in her ice blue eyes. They reminded me of a Viking princess. Beneath those eyes was something I'd only ever glimpsed. There is so much that I don't know about her feelings. I can't imagine her having secrets since she freely gives Matt and I information whenever we ask but everyone has to have secrets. Her hair is curly today and it falls in large sausage curls around her shoulders and back down to her waist. Her hair is ash blonde and it reflects all of the lights that are going on around the club. She looks weak and that scares me. Alraune is never weak. I want to take her back into my arms but I push that thought away. That's more of Matt's thing. "If it was, I wouldn't have asked you the question." She turns away to face the stage again and I can see her alabaster neck through a thin veil of hair. That skin is normally so soft and smooth but now there are purple bruises that look like passion marks. I feel this heat overcome me and I just want to scream. She's been away on the job but apparently found time to have a tryst with who knows who. That's why she's tired. Before I can even blink I realize how angry I am at her and just let the words fly out of my mouth. "Are you just going to be a bitch and not tell me?" With that I saw rage flash over her features. The waitress returned with her beer and shot. She took the drinks off the tray before the waitress could even lower it, pulled out a 100 Euro bill, and stuck it in the waitress's free hand in what seemed like milliseconds. Alraune lifted the shot and dropped it into the beer glass and proceeded to chug the entire thing. With a slam of the glass down on the table she stood up and turned to face me. From the angle she was looking down on me and her face displayed all of the colors of the stage. Her eyes bore into me and their heat stunned me. "Listen, I don't give a shit what the fuck you have to say about anything. Honestly, you are the most rude individual I have ever had the misfortune to make the acquaintance of and if you think for one second I consider you to be a close friend then you need to rethink our relationship. You know why I'm here and if you don't let me remind you. Matt is one reason. I value our friendship and I intend to always honor that friendship. Money is another reason I am here. Power and revenge rank high up there on the list and a little glory never hurts. But you, Mello; you're not on that fucking list. Maybe you could have been but that would mean that you'd have to stop being such an asshole and stop taking out your insecurities on other people. You walk around like you're invincible but you're falling apart inside and out. If you had your shit together we wouldn't be here in this mess and you fucking know that. So, fuck off and take care of Matt tonight. I'm leaving." With that she turned around and walked off to the stairs, until she stopped and turned around to look at me one last time. Her face showed so many emotions all at the same time: rage, sadness, contempt, disgust, pity. Pity is the one that stung me the most. She looked me in the eye before spitting out the words "You fucking disappoint me" with more venom than a viper. I felt those words hit me like bullets, tearing my flesh apart. With that she turned around and started off again.
I couldn't move as I watched her walk off. The red light illuminated her as she walked, no slinked, towards the stairs. Has she always walked like that? She started to descend and the stairs and I noticed that I wasn't the only one looking at her. Our little scene didn't go unnoticed by the other VIPs and I half expected to see staunch judgment on their rich ass faces but instead I saw another emotion entirely: Lust. I felt a shudder and as I realized I didn't like that. My fists balled up at my sides, their white knuckles glowed in the dim light. I saw one bastard smirk as he snuffed out his filthy cigarette. He made eye contact with me a nodded his head in the direction she left as he left out a whistle. He started to chuckle and his friend turned around to look at me as well. They were sitting at a table for two with a Turkish tea set in front of them. They each wore button ups and Kenneth Cole dress shoes; I would know because I have a pair. The one who whistled had the nerve to say to me "Looks like your girlfriend put you in your place. Someone else is gunna take her home tonight for sure." Then his little bitch ass friend chimes in "Yeah, I hope it's me." I take the beer glass and make sure to hit that fucker in the head.
No one has ever talked to me like that. Matt and I have argued, sure. I'm not the easiest person to be around but Matt is different. He's my best friend and I love him for putting up with me. Alraune is just an acquaintance. How dare she talk to me like that! That fucking bitch, she can't talk to me like that. It's time to go.
[To: Mattie 5:09 a.m.] Let's fucking go. Shit is done.