x-CD Store Romance
3:Hangover & No Alcohol
When Axel woke the next day, he felt like shit. Pure, utter, unadulterated, possibly-found-in-the-next-door-neighbours'-cat's-sandbox shit.
If he didn't know better, he would have classed it as a hangover. Thing was, Axel abhorred alcohol, to the degree that he tended to date girls who did drink it just so he'd have one more excuse to tell them to fuck off. Hence Point Number Two on the Letter Of Reasons For Breaking Up he'd penned for Alice. He liked to pretend that he gave in easily; that way he could also accuse said girl of cruelly manipulating him. Fairly standard letter that was, now that he thought about it – pretty much every reason he had listed could be used for every girl. Was that cruel, that he couldn't even be bothered being original for each one? Maybe, but he didn't care.
As he did not have a hangover, however, the only reason for this sudden, as-yet-unexplained headache had to be that he was getting sick. Add dizziness, lack of coherency in both thought and action, a sandpapered throat and the fact that not even three double-strength Aspirin tablets had caused the pounding to go away, and he could probably settle in at no less than 'fucked' in the health department.
Maybe it was a good thing his house was so small. He managed to make it down the hall without banging into anything. The TV, as always, was on. Mickey Mouse was not, though, and that only made him more irritated for some reason. "Ninja Turtles should all be shelled, then cooked, then given as a food donation to a needy family," he mused aloud, eyes narrowed at the playful green fight scene before him. "Or, maybe, just maybe, popped into a boiling aquarium until they start developing skin abrasions from the extreme heat-"
He could hear it. Larxene's voice, in his head. Taunting him for his sadistic thoughts. God, it was awful, this sickness. "Like you aren't," he snarled at the image, pushing it away as he turned the television off. Looking down at the remote in his hand, he gave it a measuring, nasty look, then threw it across the room. It slid under a couch – the one Demyx had been on – and he grimaced.
He had to be sick. He wouldn't be thinking of those – those people, if he wasn't. It just wasn't normal Axel behaviour.
"Fuck off!" He snarled, maybe too loudly for his thin walls, as a dog started barking outside. He lurched for the table, clasping a bottle of cough syrup, and downed the stuff while he plotted mean – very mean, on the level of 'you-should-be-reported-to-the-nearest-animal-protection-society' mean – things to do to that damn dog. The syrup made his already pained throat burn – so much for actually doing something helpful– and he glared at the bottle; one with freakin' bright, happy colours and a kitsch giraffe.
"I hate my life." He groaned.
It was 7:43 in the morning. And he had work. At ten. For the lunch shift. And he was sick.
For once, he wasn't just complaining for the sake of it. He wasn't just plain bitter; this time, he had every goddamned right to complain. And he wasn't even happy about it.
Life sucked.
-x-x-x-
On the plus side, though, he mused as he walked through the busy streets, black bag swinging at his side – maybe someone else was sick too. Spotting the coffee shop nearest to the X Complex, he made a beeline for it through the crowd of people. Surveying the menu, he grinned. "Two hot chocolates," he told the woman at the counter, who smiled politely and fetched it for him, only giving him a real smile when he flashed his money and a grin of his own.
Sipping one steaming hot chocolate from the foam cup, he ducked out of the shop, hoping that Aerith didn't catch him walking in with products from another café. She could be particularly touchy and temperamental about such loyalty issues; overly so, he thought grumpily. Of course, her mode of attack in such a case was generally to act so depressed that the culprit ended up regretting it, but still, Aerith's moods were not to be laughed at. Much. His mood lightened almost instantly as he turned into the street where the complex was situated and sighted Roxas a mere two metres ahead of him.
"Hey! Roxas!"
Said blond boy turned curiously, and gave a small wave when he saw the redheaded, green-eyed man trotting up to him, all decked in dramatic black and grinning. He waited while Axel caught up, and then fell back into pace. He seems early, Roxas mused to himself.
"Mm, this is the time I usually get here," Axel said cheerfully enough.
Roxas blinked, slightly shocked. Mentally, he hit himself. Hard. "I said that out loud?"
Turned out he really should've spared his brain the trouble; Axel smirked, and, carefully manoeuvering his two hot drinks, smacked the boy on the forehead anyway. Confused, Roxas blinked again at him, causing Axel to laugh even more and scruff up his hair.
"…Why are you doing that?" Roxas heard himself say.
Axel cocked an eyebrow at him. "You look like a dog," he offered by way of explanation. Truly, it was some deep affectionate shit, coming from Axel, who had (secretly) loved dogs since he was a child and was (again, secretly) desperate for a golden retriever. Too bad Roxas didn't know it yet.
"Here, have one. It's on me." Axel passed him a warm foam cup before he even had time to acknowledge the comment, and just gazed at it when he got it.
"-hot chocolate. It won't bite. Maybe." The redhead was saying.
"Huh?"
Axel grinned, feeling somewhat better for the first time that morning; well enough to actually bother explaining. "I said, it's hot chocolate. I don't even know why I bought two. For that matter, I'm not even sure why I bought one…" he made a face of disgust, looking at the dark brown goop in the bottom of his cup. For some reason, the after-effects of hot chocolate on Axel were always less than pleasant. "You ain't a morning person, are you, kid."
That definitely wasn't a question from Axel. "Mm." Roxas responded absently, trying to make a negative-sounding noise and sip the chocolate at the same time. It was good – not too hot, but not cold and grainy.
Larxene looked up as they walked in together. "Hey," she muttered, dumping the price stickers she'd been applying to the new stock and walking over to greet them. Axel grunted in response.
"Not a mornin' person, eh, Axel." The blonde woman laughed, managing to convey whole worlds of nasty meaning in the short-lived sound.
Axel just tossed his cup at the bin closest to the double doors, glaring at the object when it didn't go in. Roxas obligingly picked it up for him, earning a softer look from the redhead. There were small drops of chocolate goo on the carpet the cup had flown over on its spectacular miss.
Larxene snorted. "Definitely not a morning person. Except with people you like."
"One of whom you aren't. And I am a morning person. I love morning, therefore I must be a morning person. I'm just bloody sick right now." He scowled and coughed weakly, flapping a hand at Roxas who looked suddenly, cutely concerned.
The blonde woman thought for a moment. "Well, you mustn't notbe a morning person, because you definitely ain't not a night person, yeah?"
"…"
Two pairs of eyes, one blue, one green, blinked at her. Axel sighed. "Shut it, Larx. You sound like Jack Sparrow on crack."
She smiled, seeming suddenly to drift off into her own world. "Yeah…"
Roxas was freaked out by the sudden change in the usually bitchy woman's attitude, and quickly trailed after Axel as he shook his head and stalked over to Demyx, who'd just come down the main stairs to the above X Café. The honey-haired man smiled seductively and waved, leaning back against the black metal railing in a ridiculously fake pose. "Heidi-ho, m'dear," he hailed Axel, disengaging his grip on the rail and immediately gripping Axel's arm, although the man shook him off right away, grimacing. Roxas, unnoticed to them, followed them curiously.
"Don't try my patience, Demyx," he muttered. "I'm very badly feeling the need to-"
"Molest me in the worst way possible right before all these people?"
"Screw up someone's life in the worst way possible. Namely, yours."
"Awww." The man followed him, pouting. "That's not very nice. Although I don't mind the sound of the screwing part, not at all-"
"Get away from me, dog." He turned down a predictably CD-filled isle sharply, hoping Demyx would go away.
"Why'd you call me that?"
Axel growled. "Because you're following me around like a fucking Labrador with that puppy dog look on your face." Another turn down a different isle. It didn't really need to be said that while Axel may have longed after a silky-haired golden retriever, the same sentiment could not be said about Labradors or Demyx.
That made Demyx smirk. "Really? But you like dogs, don't you? Just 'cause you can't pull off an adorable look like I can…"
"I don't need to. I'm hot as it is. Whereas you are starting to make it look like you're working over at Marluxia's and Xenmas'. Or like one of the girls at the Wonderland Club."
Demyx scowled at that. "Don't insult me. I'm much prettier than they are."
"You still say that, after I informed you your face is something akin to a monkey's behind that time?"
The CD store owner preened. "Aww, you're just saying that."
"If you don't shut up, I'm going to do something to your face. Something indescribably horrible, and involving acid and a permanent marker."
Abject horror was apparent on the musician's countenance. He knew enough to about Axel to know that Axel's most outlandish threats were the ones to watch out for. "You wouldn't."
I swear, that guy is gonna get shot one day by some angry old woman… "Try me." He headed over to their usual talk place by the stairs that led up to the restaurant. Demyx followed him, holding his hands up in defeat.
"What amazing witticisms are you two trading now?" Larxene asked, the smirk on her face the closest she'd ever get to smiling in public. She'd beat them easily to their usual meeting spot, considering Axel's detouring attempts at losing his musician friend. "Here." She tossed a can of Solo to Axel, who caught it with a grunt, and merely directed a menacing look at Demyx when he looked at the woman pleadingly. "You really aren't bullshitting. You look horrible, Axel."
"Gee, thanks," was the sarcastic rejoinder.
"Any time. Dem, I had to get Yuffie out of the ska section this time – she was trying to grab a few Cat Empire CDs-"
Roxas snickered, and held his hands up innocently when Larxene whirled. "Didn't say anything. Just, does she ever stop?"
"No." She narrowed her blue eyes until the almost bold boy turned shy again – it wasn't good to encourage impertinence in the younger staff, she well believed – before informing him, "You get used to it after a while. Axel, you'd better get upstairs and work. We'll see you later, for lunch. If we don't see you, you will die if you aren't dead already. Got that clear?"
He groaned, starting up the small set of stairs. "Got it memorised, Larx. Bitch."
"Man-whore."
"Demyx, not me." He waved at the three below him, ignoring the musician's noise of protest.
His muscles were smarting when he finally reached the small landing at the head of the stairs; a definite sign that he wasn't in the best condition. Selphie beamed oh-so-brightly at him as she whizzed past with two trays of Devonshire teas, eeped as she nearly collided with a potplant, but righted herself again and hurried on.
The world above was almost completely different to that of beneath; the frenzied buzz that was always apparent in the atmosphere of the café was slowed to a lazy crawl in the CD store. Axel knew that across in the X Palace, the largest part of the Castle Oblivion complex the three stores were in, the pace would be somewhere between hurrying and relaxed; it was an altogether different climate (or 'climax', ha ha, he told himself sourly) in that place. Stands to reason, I suppose, considering the type of business that goes on over there… I mean, god. Their motto is "Lose yourself in your fantasies"…
Aerith nodded quickly at him as he strolled over to the counter, reaching it quickly with his long strides. Reaching in to a small, practically hidden cupboard beside her, she deftly drew out a black apron and threw it to him. He caught it and tied it around his waist, noting that the pretty brunette was short of breath. "What's up?" He asked her.
She twisted her lip. "Selphie broke a glass already. And Saïx appears to be about to explode, yet again."
He scowled, then wiped his face blank when Aerith frowned warningly at him. "It-"
"-Scares the customers, I know. What do you need me to do?"
She looked him over critically, brushing a spike of red out of his eyes, then walked around the counter briskly. "Tables four, seven, and eight are already being served. Table six is booked, but they haven't showed up yet, and I'm thinking we should hold it a little while longer-"
He interrupted her, looking over her shoulder at the pad she was referring to. "Strife? Aer, that's a little obsessive – you can't ignore the restaurant rules just because you think the guy's hot. The table goes in fifteen minutes, 'kay?"
She pouted, trying to ignore her flush. "Okay then… anyway. Tables fifteen, seventeen and, ah, oh, five too – could you take their orders? Zexion's flat out in the kitchen today; Xaldin had to go out and buy more hair nets. I keep telling him to put it all in one braid, but he always ignores me…"
"Hmm. So. Got a notepad?"
She handed him one, used to his brusque manner. "And Axel?" she said sweetly as he turned to go.
"Mm."
"Don't sneeze on the customers, honey. You're sick, I know you are even if you try to hide it, and I don't want to lose business just because you felt it was necessary to come to work today."
He gave her the Glare of Doom. She fluttered her eyelashes at him, straightened her black skirt – denim with slashes of leather – professionally, and went to see how Zexion was doing with the food.
Two hours and fifty-two minutes later, he was standing in a currently empty corner of the café, ignoring curious looks from their customers as his pink-bowed work partner crossed her arms, biting on her lip. Before them were two long tables pushed together, both with the customary black table cloths and silverware."No, Aerith. No flowers. Especially not pink daisies. If you want flowers on the tables, they have to be red or black roses. Got it memorised?"
The woman sulked. "But I like pink…"
"I know. Believe me, we all know."
Decorating the tables for booked groups was always a hassle, with Aerith insisting that there be a bright colourful theme, and Axel having to insist on keeping it the same as the rest of the restaurant and complex in general – the overall theme was black, with varying fluoro colours in assorted places. The theme for the restaurant was black and red, but Aerith never liked it, even though as co-manager she'd had a say in it; she always insisted that he'd bullied her into it.
"Well…" Aerith tried to change tact. "What if I just put little pink ribbons around the rose stems then?"
"No. Okay, yeah. Whatever." He sniffed, trying to look disdainful and knowing he only looked sick. Last time he'd been to the bathroom, there had been huge dark bags under his eyes, and he knew that that with his pasty skin couldn't be a good look – this opinion seemed to be reinforced by Demyx, who, one time when he popped up the stairs to grab a small snack of bruschetta, mock screamed and ran away.
He hated that guy so very much sometimes.
Aerith finished her talking, and gave him one of those looks that said plainly 'if-you-dare-argue-about-this-I'll-castrate-you-because-I-know-you-weren't-listening'. "Any objections?" She asked him rather icily.
He merely grunted, and nodded over her shoulder as a guest rose and walked over to them. "Hot blond at six o-clock, Aer."
"Wha-?" She twirled as a guy with yellow spikes enough to rival the look of a chocobo reached them.
"Miss Gainsborough?"
"Ah, yes!" She said brightly, cheeks tinged a rosy pink. Axel shook his head, the bad mood only slightly alleviated by the sight of his co-worker in plight. He checked his gold watch. "I'm going to my lunch break. Have a good time." He pulled her long brunette braid as he strolled past, easily towering over her and the blond she was happily engaged in conversation with. She stuck her tongue out at him, blushed again when Cloud Strife smiled at her childish action, and pointedly turned her back on the redhead to continue conversing with Cloud.
Axel practically stumbled down the staff stairs; he couldn't think of a time he'd felt worse. He felt partially cheered when he saw the new kid smiling happily at the foot of the stairs, but all that was blown away when he saw that Roxas was standing with Demyx, and, to a lesser extent, Larxene. "Going to lunch," he told them, pausing briefly. "What's the music now?" It had a metal sound to it, but a little lighter; probably some kind of punk. I don't think I mind it much, even though right now it just hurts my head.
"My Chemical Romance, 'Bury Me In Black.' You're actually going back to work?" Larxene asked him with a hint of incredulity, and more than a touch of disdain. "I already told you, Flame – you look crap."
"Lovely as ever." He passed a hand over his eyes tiredly. I really hate it when she's right. I do.
Larxene gave him a long, measuring look, and pulled her black jacket on. "Come on, Roxas. We're knocking off early today."
"Ehhh?" Three voices chorused.
Larxene looked almost smug. "Axel's not going back to work; in fact, Dem, be a wonderful hot dear and text Zex, tell him Axel's not, please? And if he doesn't work, there's no way I'm gonna be here and suffer while he's off somewhere. So I'm going too. And Roxas shouldn't have to stay here with company like you-" she pointed contemptuously at a bewildered Demyx "-so I'm taking the kid with me. Any objections?"
"Well, uh, yeah." Demyx scowled. "You realise you have to ask for the manager's permission before leaving?" He crossed his arms.
Larxene smirked. "Right." She turned to Axel. "O' restaurant manager, would you kindly grant us leave?"
If I wasn't feeling like I was about to die, I'd be laughing. "Sure," he replied with a shrug.
"I meant your goddamn manager, Larx. You know that." Sea eyes surveyed the blond with her arms around the shorter trainee and the tall redhead, absently flicking a lighter as he waited. "Fine," he said at last. "I'm coming."
"Cool!" Roxas grinned, piping up, then shrinking as they looked at him in surprise.
"Speak up, Roxie-"
"'Roxie?'" Axel interrupted, snickering.
"You're allowed to talk," the blonde said to her favourite new kid. "Say something. Go on."
"…Ah… well, where are we going to go?" He said hesitantly, all eyes on him.
Demyx blinked, arms still crossed. "I didn't even think of that." He put away the phone that had been dangling from his hand for the better part of the conversation; apparently he'd already texted Zexion.
"A theme park?"
Larxene erupted into laughter, while Demyx and Axel grimaced at the trainee's suggestion. Boy in question turned bright pink and looked down.
Larxene smirked again. "What? No one wants to see me 'ride that pony' again?" Demyx hid his face in his hands.
"Larxene practically gave a strip show on the merry-go-round just out Vexen, our tech guy," Axel explained. "Trust me; you don 't want to see her at a theme park. And Xenmas threw up because he went on the Mad Mouse at Luna Park too many times after eating slush puppies."
"Oh…"
"Nouk Café?" Demyx butted in, grinning. "Their hot chocolates are the greatest."
The blonde seconded his notion. "Just out Prahran way; it'll only take about half an hour to get there."
"Nouk? I live somewhere around there," Roxas said shyly.
"Oooh, really?" The musician started for the exit, nodding to Lexaeus as they passed him. "Can we go to your place?" He lifted an eyebrow.
"Pedophile."
The man looked affronted. "Larxene, I'm not, truly. The boy isn't that much younger than me."
"Whatever." A sneeze followed this statement.
"Bless you."
I hate being sick…"Shut it."
More editing. Some parts are dramatically different, in fact. Good thing, too. Eugh. I cringe...
Tallyy.
