Hey kids... I've got nothing to important to say, other than I'm finally feeling the creative juices again. HAPPY TURKEY DAY!
- Chapter Two – Big Boom! –
"Hey," I started, breaking the awkward silence that walking brought upon us, "Do you mind if I just sort of hang out and take a nap for awhile? Plane trips really suck."
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Sure." Criss seemed as if he was staring off into space.
I slipped the plastic card into the key slot and was welcomed by the little click of entry. Upon entering, I was entranced by the lavishly decorated room; it really had the Egyptian flair that took my breath away. For just a normal room, I felt like I was staying the presidential suite… I dared not think what that must be like.
I slumped down on the cushiony bed and looked up at Criss, smiling contently. Crossing his arms, he looked around and was off in his little world while I stared at him. After what seemed like an eternity, he turned and our gazes were locked.
"I'll let you relax, now." Criss said softly. "You know where to find me… just take the elevator up as high as it goes. Only room on the top floor. You can't miss it."
I giggled and then stretched back, leaning all the way until my body was engulfed by the bed.
"Nighty night."
I heard the door close before I saw him leave. Rolling my head, the clock read noon, which meant I had seven hours until my presence was requested at the cousin's gig. A feeling of guilt swept over me… I'd done this last time. I'd rejected Criss's company to sleep. Hm… Not cool. I'll make it up to him somehow. My eyelids drooped and gently shut before I could think of anything else.
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My eyes fluttered open an hour later. As I sat up, I rubbed my face and noticed, groggily, that my suitcase was brought up. That man's way too sweet for any normal person, but then again, I wonder how often friends of his fall from the sky (metaphorically, of course.). I felt like I owed him a lot more that I thought, and so it became my goal to repay him in some way for his generosity. Grabbing a small black bag out of my duffle, I ventured into the fancy bathroom and proceeded to make myself look presentable.
After a quick comb of the hair and some toothbrush action, I deemed myself good enough to go out. Slinging my trademark messenger bag over my head, I left the room in search of the Mindfreak's living quarters. I followed his excruciatingly difficult instructions, taking the elevator all the way up to the top floor. When I arrived there, the first thing I saw was a set of gigantic wooden doors with a season three poster plastered on. I was hesitant to knock… who knows if there's a meeting or something going on? But Criss did say to come up whenever, so I guess it was ok. Just as I was about to flick my wrist forward to strike the wood, the door opened and I saw, through the small crack, Criss's face.
"Melanie! So nice to see that you're alive," Criss boomed, swinging the door wide open and granting me entry. "I never thought you'd come around."
My jaw hit the floor. Sure, I'd seen clips and pieces of his suite on the show, but I never noticed just how fantastic and huge the room was! It was Egyptian mixed with a chic contemporary style that I fell in love with. I couldn't help but look around like a kid in a candy store. There was a train set winding around the plants, numerous awards on the shelf, and even a bag of cat food! This place was ridiculously amazing.
"I can't tell if you've learned to clean up after yourself or if you're still lazy and use the maids," I jeered, sitting down on the black (Italian! Wow, pricey!) leather couches.
"Ha ha, very funny," Criss threw back, lounging next to me. "For your information, I'm too busy to clean up after myself."
"Oh really? Then who takes care of…" I stopped just as a cute little kitty brushed past my legs and looked up at me with adorable eyes. "Hammie! It's a pleasure to meet you."
I gently lifted the famous feline up onto my lap where he curled into an adorable little ball of fluff. I smiled as I felt a purr ripple through his body.
"I do, thank you very much!" Criss said, reaching over to scratch Hammie's head lovingly.
I felt a tinge of jealousy for Criss and his pretty kitty. I've always wanted a cat to call my own, but most of my friends are allergic to cats, which means no kitty in my house. Me? I'm a big animal lover. Except snakes. Snakes, as interesting as they are, are downright creepy.
"Well," Criss started, interrupting my train of thought, "How about we go get lunch? Then we can catch up."
"Sounds fantastic!" I replied, maybe a bit too enthusiastic.
"Great. I'll be right back," he said, heading for his bedroom door, "And try not to drool on the couch."
I threw a small, but probably pricey, pillow at him, which the martial artist stopped with the back of his hand without even looking back. He shut the door behind him quietly, leaving me in the much too large suite. Carrying Hammie with me, I inspected every little thing—what sorts of plants were growing in the vases, what each plaque and award was from, even the brands of food he had stashed in the cabinets. This all seemed to fascinate me in some way, oddly enough. You know, I wonder just how many girls would kill to be in my place. The idea made me scared, as if some giant mob of fangirls were about to jump out from behind the couch and attack me. But just to be on the safe side, I Hammie and I peered behind the furniture. Fangirl free!
After that inspection, I looked around on his large desk. Well, it would have been a desk had it not been covered in folders and notes and DVDs of all kinds. Hm. I really shouldn't be looking, but… come on! How often does a gal get behind the scenes action and a preview of the next season?!
"Exactly," I whispered to Hammie, who meowed back. "Now let's see what's in file number one!"
I flipped open the first manila folder to find a page filled with complex diagrams and notes scribbled in awkward places. These seemed to be… stunt ideas! How exciting! It looked like a motorcycle was involved, as well as a crane. Hm. Just as I began to sift through the papers some more, I heard the door open.
Like a bat out of hell, I shut the file and turned around to look at Criss, who had just returned. He looked really groovy sporting some killer Affliction jeans, a skull-covered shirt of the same brand, and a really soft looking leather jacket with his insignia all over it. Hanging from his neck was a Greek cross and handcuffs, along with his CA logo doubled around his neck. My breath was taken away for almost a second when I suddenly snapped out of it, aware that I might do something weird.
"Hammie giving you a tour of the place?" Criss said, stroking his cat's head.
I smiled and gave Hammie one last squeeze before letting him down.
"So where are we venturing off to?" I asked, drumming my fingers against my thighs.
"Eh, I've got a place in mind." He replied, clearly leaving me in the dark. "Come on, let's get going."
Criss grabbed his keys off of the counter and set his sunglasses on top of his head as we made our way out the door. We walked close; my shoulder was nearly always touching his arm. Just as I opened my mouth to say something, Criss's phone rang. Well, crap.
"Hello? Oh hey, man. Make it quick."
The guy on the phone was loud and distracting as we rode the elevator down.
"What?! No no no, I said pyro or it's off. I want a big boom!" he then turned towards me, "Sorry, Mel. Work stuff."
"No no, it's fine!" I assured softly. Criss rolled his eyes at whatever the man was saying, which made me laugh.
"Listen, you tell him again. Make sure everyone else gets the memo. Yeah. Alright. Bye."
Criss stashed his cell back into his pocket and exhaled loudly.
"Jeez, Mel." He said, using me as an armrest in a joking manner, "This business drives me crazy sometimes. I tell one person that I want something and they tell everyone else not to get me that one little thing! It's madness, I tell you!"
"Yeah, sounds pretty intense." I agreed. "Madness, alright."