The first thing one would notice upon entering the kitchen was an overwhelming sensation of order and cleanliness. Nothing seemed out of place, ever. No counter was unclean and no silverware unpolished. However, today was different. The couch was home to a huddled and shaking figure. The smell of charcoal clouded the air. A dirty chopping board was drenched in blood while simultaneously crushed under a mountain of knives.
Trip had dragged Aoba down by the ear when it was decided that she had taken too long to get out of bed. Aoba had been thrown to the counter, knocking the wind out of her lungs. Pushing herself off the marble, she stood small with her chin down.
The phone wasn't back in its stand. Aoba assumed that Trip's takeout order would be here soon. If Trip was still angry, Virus and she probably wouldn't be eating tonight.
"Virus, get the hell up and sit on a chair!" Trip barked. Aoba flinched. Virus jumped from her fetal position and scurried over. Trembling hands grasped for the back of the shining silver dining chair. She missed the first few times before eventually finding it. Aoba studied her face: her mascara was running in thick black streams down her cheeks; the nail on her right thumb was broken; hairspray had frozen her normally flawless locks into something akin to bedhead; she wasn't wearing her glasses. She was, in short, a mess. There was a small puddle near the stove. Can only imagine what that is, Aoba cringed.
God, Virus was so fucking stupid. Today was meant to be a great day! She was gonna tell everyone about the Morphine expansion. Hell, she was even going to have cooked food! And that was Virus' job! But no, her girlfriend's paranoia had made her lose her temper and now it was all ruined. Ruined, ruined, ruined!
It was all her fault. If that blue-haired brat hadn't upset Virus, none of this would have gone down. Virus would've been happy and everything would've been fine. But no… Aoba wouldn't let any of them be happy. And here she was, having the nerve to pretend like she's the victim!
"Aoba, I want you to know that all of this is your fault. All of it." Trip couldn't even look her in the eye. She was that angry.
Aoba's eyebrows furrowed and her eyes squinted as if confused. She'd have to spell it out to the girl.
Was she really that paranoid? Maybe it was all in her head. She hadn't been quite right after Trip's affair with that cute intern. Or the client that always seemed too affectionate. Or the secretary back at the house. Maybe that's why Trip didn't like her that much. Because she was a bad fiancé—no, girlfriend. She didn't wear sexy lingerie to bed like the intern. She didn't compliment Trip lots, like the client did. She didn't look perfect all the time, like that secretary. She was a stupid, jealous woman. A stupid, jealous woman eager for someone, anyone to love her. Even Aoba hated her. She knew that it wasn't great keeping her locked up in the apartment, but it was what Trip wanted. Hell, she even felt bad about keeping her inside all the time. Why couldn't Aoba see that?
She wasn't expecting any food to enter her stomach tonight. Not after her little outburst. Fingers crossed Trip would've calmed down by breakfast.
How the hell was this her fault? She hadn't even entered the fucking room! Virus was an emotional trainwreck; that was common knowledge. It was no surprise she was crying. She'd being crying more and more lately, but she couldn't care less. Plus, Trip wasn't the tender type. How they'd been together so long, she couldn't understand. Trip was a serial cheater, an abuser, a manipulator. How could Virus stay with her? If she were her, she'd pack her bags in the night and leave.
The doorbell uttered a soft ding. No one moved. Silence hung in the air. Ding.
"VIRUS!" Trip yelled. Aoba and Virus snapped their heads up simultaneously. Trip was glaring at Virus, hands balled into fists. They looked like they could snap Virus' neck like a twig at a moment's notice. Luckily for everyone, the small woman stood up and ran to the door. Aoba just returned her eyes to the floor and twiddled her thumbs.
Returning as quickly as she could, Virus pulled a plate from the cupboard and shakily placed three slices of cheese and tomato pizza on it. Sliding the box to the side, she silently put the plate on the glass dining table. "At least there's something you can do," Trip snorted.
"On the couch," she ordered.
Virus and Aoba shuffled to the couch closest to the fireplace. The fireplace was at the back of the room. No wood was in it today. Apparently the girl in charge of bringing them firewood was killed in a shootout downtown.
Virus sat down and patted her lap, motioning for Aoba to sit. The blue-haired woman resisted rolling her eyes. Virus loved to pet her when she was sad. She sat down and wrapped her arms around the blonde's shoulders. Just the way the ghastly woman liked it.
Trip sat down on the couch opposite, pizza in hand. "I was going to make this announcement over dinner, but considering it was ruined by you two," she spat, looking between Virus and Aoba as she spoke "I'm going to make it now: Morphine is expanding. Further than Japan. Guess where we're going?"
Aoba and Virus shook their heads.
"AMERICA!" Trip exclaimed proudly, throwing her hands in the air. Aoba frowned. Virus smiled a closed smile.
"That's great Trip," Virus murmured absent-mindedly.
"Yeah, great," Aoba snapped. Virus gently slapped her wrist and gave her a warning glare.
So that was what she was building up to. Some petty expansion project. What a miserable day it was.
Aoba looked at Virus after receiving her warning. Virus looked disappointed, as if she was expecting something from Trip and didn't receive it. Strange people.
The room was silent for a few moments. The moments felt like hours, but no one knew what to say, what to do. Virus ran her fingers through Aoba's hair, tangling it a little.
After a thick silence, Trip spoke.
"That's it from you two? Some weak 'congrats'?" She looked around expectantly. "Get to bed if you have nothing decent to say then." She stormed out of the kitchen, slamming the glass doors with a huff.