Disclaimer: I do not own Shaman King or any of Hiroyuki Takei's characters.
Enjoy!
Chapter 2: Has Choco lost his dream?
"Choco! Hurry up and get that tray of food out there!" the manager shouted impatiently. Choco flinched but quickly picked up a tray, accidentally spilling some spaghetti sauce on his white uniform. The manager sighed and shook his head but decided not to say anything, so Choco left the kitchen to serve table twelve.
"Here's your food, Choco smiled at the four people sitting, skillfully twirled the tray before setting it down.
"That was awesome," cried the little boy.
"Bon appetite," Choco said charmingly before returning to the kitchen.
"Hey Mr. Smith, I was wondering if I could perform on the stage tomorrow night," Choco asked his manager after work that day.
"I don't know Choco. I already had another act planned and," but Mr. Smith was cut off by the ringing of his cell phone. "Hello," he answered the call, holding up a finger to the waiter. Choco watched as Mr. Smith's expression darkened and he grunted, "okay."
"What's wrong," Choco asked concerned
"The band that was coming for tomorrow night can't make it," he answered gravely.
Choco's lips spread into a wide smile and he asked, "So you have no one else booked for tomorrow right?" Mr. Smith sighed and nodded, suspicious of the hope disguised behind the concern in his voice. "Well you know," Choco began, "I could perform if it's alright with you."
"I guess," Mr. Smith sighed yet again.
"So just for clarification, is that a yes," Choco asked trying to contain his excitement. Mr. Smith answered ("Yes.") and Choco's chest burst with happiness. "Thank you, thank you. I just can't thank you enough," Choco cried out happily.
"Don't disappoint me," Mr. Smith said with a friendly smile.
"And by the way," Choco said on his way out the door, "I'll be inviting a few friends." And before Mr. Smith could reply, Choco was out the door.
"Hey Mic," I have my very first gig tomorrow," Choco spoke to the air beside him. A golden jaguar suddenly appeared out of nowhere.
Choco loosened and tightened his bow tie nervously. In ten minutes he would be up on a real stage in front of a real audience, and for some odd reason he couldn't think of anything funny.
He quickly peeked out through the black curtains and his stomach did flip-flops repeatedly. When he peeked out again, he saw his old gang sitting at one table. The six of them stuck out like a sore thumb in the crowd of people. But they had tried hard to change their ways and had, in a manner of speaking, succeeded.
"Now I am happy to bring up to the stage Chocolove, a comedian right out of our own staff," the announcer introduced him to the crowd dining below. Choco nervously walked up to the stage and cleared his throat, a glass of water sat on the stool in front of him.
"Good evening ladies and gentlemen. I hope you're enjoying the food. And man I gotta tell you, I went to a seafood disco last night and pulled a mussel," Choco paused awaiting a laugh from the crowd. But the only sound was forced laughter from the table where his old gang sat. "Um, so me and my brother broke the elevator at the mall. Needless to say, we were grounded." Choco began to sweat as the eerie silence filled the room. His mind was running and he couldn't get his train of thoughts going.
"Mahatma Gandhi walked barefoot most of the time, which made an impressive set of calluses on his feet. He also ate very little, which made him rather frail and with his odd diet, he suffered from bad breath. This made him a super callused fragile mystic hexed by halitosis," Choco told his next joke, but only received a small, stifled laugh. His bow tie seemed to be tightening around his neck and he tried to stretch it as his mind raced to think of something funny.
"Um, aw man," Choco cried out looking at the ground in front of him, "I used to be indecisive, but now I'm not so sure." No laughs came. He was getting desperate. "Did you hear the one about the man who dreamed he was a muffler on a car and then a part of the wheel?" He paused for effect. "He woke up exhausted and tired." Choco smiled ruefully. "Knock knock," He whispered into the microphone.
Someone
in the crowd loudly booed. Choco was starting to feel light-headed.
The room was spinning and he closed his eyes to make it stop. "Get
off the stage!" Someone yelled. Another person shouted, "You
suck!" And then it all happened in slow motion. The sound of chairs
hitting the floor and people screaming echoed throughout the room.
One of his friends had gotten up and was holding a gun to the head of
one of the customers. Needless to say, the other five of them
followed.
"Say that again and you'll be sleeping with the
fishes," the man with the gun threatened. The man at the point of
the gun trembled and stared at the floor.
"Mike," Choco shouted jumping off the stage. "There's no need for that here. Put the gun away." His friend hesitated but obeyed.
"Choco! You're fired!" Mr. Smith came storming out of the kitchen screaming.
"But Mr. Smith," Choco began but never had the chance to finish.
"I want you out of here now," the manager ordered sternly. "You and your gangsters get out of here!"
Choco's head drooped and he obediently left. His six friends followed.
"Yo, Choco. Cheer up man," Anthony slightly punched Choco's arm. "You're back and life is good again."
"Why did you have to pull a gun on that guy," Choco asked, clearly frustrated.
"No one is going to insult Shaft and get away with it," Mike, the one who had the gun, replied.
"And that was a sad gig anyway," Josh, another member, added.
"It was my only source of money. How am I supposed to survive in New York now," he asked rhetorically.
"Don't worry man. We got you covered," Mike assured him. He had pulled a wad of dollar bills from his pocket.
"I don't want to be a part of that. And I thought you guys had stopped living that way," Choco asked suspiciously.
"Well, when we get a little short on dough there's no other way to go," Anthony chuckled at the rhyme. The others, obviously amused, chimed in. Choco rolled his eyes and sighed. He had nowhere else to go. This was his last resort, but it would have to do for now.
A month was passing by quickly and Choco stopped struggling against the ways of his gang. He didn't care anymore about himself or what happened to others. He had tried so hard to improve himself and look where it had gotten him. Back to where he started, alone and miserable in New York City with a gang that would do anything to get money. The shaman tournament had only been a good memory, but nothing more.
He watched silently from the getaway car as Anthony and Mike pointed guns at the cashier of the Seven-Eleven. They were probably telling him to hurry up and stuff the money in a bag. He didn't want to go along with this, but he needed food to survive. Within a few minutes they were out and he was speeding off down the road back to their hide out.
The next day he wordlessly stood aside as the six members of the gang kicked a boy name Nicholas to the hard ground. They cussed and insulted him for no other reason then the pure pleasure of hurting someone weaker than them. Choco tried to stop them but they didn't listen. He felt guilt and shame in the pit of his stomach but ignored it and looked the other way as the gang continued with the beating.
What else could he do? No one but Shaft cared about him now. So he let it go. But the gnawing of guilt at his stomach grew deeper each day and at the end of the month he decided to go out into the world searching for a new life.
Choco sighed as he exited the decorated building. He had been looking for a new job ever since he got fired five months, well four months since he had to subtract the month that he had been depressed and unwilling to do anything. Living with his old gang wasn't as fun as it used to be and he hated being the one to ruin their "fun". Most of the things they did were just wrong and his interview could not have gone any worse. It was the eleventh one he'd had and he'd been turned down again. But as he took a deep breath, the happiness of the season brought his hopes up.
The streets were lit with colorful lights that seemed to hang in mid-air but were actually strung on dead trees. White snow covered the ground and everywhere you looked you could see decorated pine trees and signs of holiday festivities. But in a darker side of town an unfortunate man tried to escape the infamous Shaft gang.
"Hey man!" Anthony called from the street into the alley. "Where you going?" The man he had addressed turned and ran down the alley trying to get to the other side.
"Whoa. Not so fast now. We don't want to hurt you. We just want your wallet," Josh said, popping out from the dark and sounding as comforting as a thief can be.
"Please I don't want any trouble," the man's voice trembled with fear as four other men surrounded him.
"Wallet," Josh commanded. The man quickly pulled out his leather wallet and threw it at Josh's feet. Josh picked it up and frowned.
"There's only fifty bucks. And no credit cards or anything," Josh reported.
"Today is not your lucky day," Mike smirked and pulled out a gun, holding it up to the man's head.
"Please! Please! Don't kill me," the man begged pathetically for his life.
"Hey! What are you guys doing," a voice boomed from behind them. The six guys quickly looked up, shock written on all their faces.
"Oh, it's just Choco," Anthony chuckled with relief. The six of them turned back to their victim.
Choco's
mind flashbacked to when he met Orona, his master. It was on that
fateful Christmas eve when he finally found his dream of saving the
world with the winds of laughter. He couldn't fail now. Not when he
had come so far. He shouldn't have let the gang rob that
convenience shop, or bully that kid until he couldn't stand. He
should have stood strong and fought against them. He regretted not
doing anything and now was his chance to get rid of a small amount of
guilt that had been layered on his heart in the past five
months.
"Stop. I'm not going to let you guys do this,"
Choco warned angrily.
"Come on man. Stop playing around. This sucker's about to die and he deserves it," Mike reasoned with him. Choco shook his head integrated with Mic as he ran towards them. They were down in ten seconds flat and the first thought that crossed his mind was 'Ren would be proud. Not that it matters.'
The man created quite a ruckus as he stumbled away, and it brought Choco's mind back to reality. He picked up the wallet and ran after the man. Surprisingly the stranger didn't push him away and accuse him of robbery; instead they had a nice chat about life and joked around. It was the hardest Choco had laughed for almost half a year now. And when the man left him to go home, Choco smiled to himself. He finally had his dream back in full view. And nothing was going to come between that ever again.
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Note from me: This one was kind of hard to write. I couldn't really think of any ideas. So it was a bit sloppy. But for the next chapter I think I'll just finish team Ren with Horo before moving on to the other characters. Leave some reviews. Please.
