Title: The Ninjas Stole My Best Friend
Fandom: 3 Ninjas
Rating: T
A/N: This piece wasn't originally apart of my layout for the story. After reading the fanfiction 'Survive and Escape' by M.L. Shards, I was inspired to try my hand at a darker scenario. Hopefully I didn't go overboard or get carried away. :)
Summary: Remnants from throughout the years showcasing how the ninjas stole my best friend.
Age: 23

The Ninjas Stole My Best Friend

Chapter Six: Reflection

Several tables in the joint clapped politely as the music faded from the speakers. What mattered to me was the one table front and center that seated four young women who jeered loudly and lifted their glasses in salute.

With a stupid smile on my face, I hopped down from the small stage and hugged my friends before heading for the bar with an empty pitcher in hand. Somewhere between the challenging classes, nagging family, endless job search, and bills hanging over my head, karaoke night with the girls had turned into the highlight of my months. And tonight, especially, it sure beat staying in my dorm room alone not doing my assignments, crying and wondering what went wrong in my latest failed romance.

"Excuse me, good sir!" I called out jauntily to the man behind the bar. When he turned an unamused gaze towards me, I lifted the empty pitcher in signal. He nodded then returned to finish taking care of a pair of pretty, petite, young things. Dropping the plastic container onto the bar top, I crossed my arms on the counter and hummed loudly.

"You must be drunk." A voice commented at my side.

I jerked my head immediately to the source and felt my brain reel at the coincidence.

"You must be sober." I responded within a reasonable beat. "We don't meet much, but it sure is nice to see you when we do."

His hair was reasonably shorter, cropped close to the skull but still long enough on the top to sweep across his forehead. And, his face was slimmer; a frown now seemed permanently pressed on his lips and creased in his brow, but it only drew the attention more to the eyes. This was almost frustrating, because in that moment they were downcast and turned away from me. He continued to nurse the one drink before him without acknowledging that I'd spoken. It made me wonder why he'd even bothered alerting me to his presence in the first place.

The bartender reached forward and snatched the pitcher without a word. I eyed the elder man then, wondering if I was just being paranoid or if the male species really did have a problem with me.

"So, do you go by Jeffrey now, or is it still Colt?" I broached conversationally.

His chest rose as he sighed heavily. "It's Colt to a few." Then, as if it pained him to do so, he tilted his head in my direction. "Girls night?"

"Spur of the moment," I agreed with a smile before nodding to his drink. "Lone reflection?"

His eyebrows lowered and he turned back to the glass in his hands. "Long overdue."

The microphone wined in protest then, sending a high-pitched wail through the building. It was quickly fixed and soon the sound of a happily strumming guitar took over along with a familiar and intoxicated voice.

"Natalie! You get your butt up here and away from that boy!" Jordan Miller, big, blonde, and short, held the microphone close to her mouth and pointed her finger accusingly in my direction.

Undeterred, I called back: "Do you want your beer or not, woman?"

She missed the first few lyrics to her song as she took the time to respond with: "I do want it. I love you!"

"Sing the damn song!" Alejandra Galvan, tall, curvaceous, and one hundred percent Latina, slammed her hands onto the table top in demonstration of her impatience for Jordan's and my two-talk.

Chuckling to myself, I turned back towards the bar just in time to see the bartender slide a full pitcher in front of me. Still choosing to not be rude, I fully intended to bid some form of farewell to Colt before leaving. But a glance to my side proved he had taken his drink and slinked off to some other area of the bar.

I added hurt feelings to the list that already contained: a bit buzzed and brokenhearted. Grabbing hold of the container, I sped back towards the table where people who actually enjoyed my company sat.

In between songs, I reflected on the very brief exchange between Colt and me. The question had been there, somewhere on his face I couldn't be sure where. He wanted to know where Ashley was but had decided not to ask. This was a small distraction, but one that occupied my mind until I returned to my room by myself.

Ashley and I had practically been joined at the hip for life. The only time I ever ran into Colt or either of his brothers had been through Ash's wish and with her. I guess a lot of things changed when we both transferred to separate schools.

Tossing my jacket on the desk chair, I sank down into the mattress of my twin bed and began the slow process of pulling off my boots. Once I was down to my socks, I pushed myself back up and crossed over to stand before my sink. My hands gripped the ceramic edges as I studied my reflection, hoping that the dark irises would tell me something I could not quite piece together yet.

I saw red where white should be and suddenly there was an expression I was unaccustomed to seeing on my own face. Fear. Sadness. Pain. Brokenness. I turned away from the mirror and mustered a useless growl.

He should have asked. I would have been more than happy to enlighten him.

Angrily, I snatched down the pictures of now worthless memories from my corkboard, crumpled them up and threw them into my trash can.

If he had asked, I would have told him.

Ashley's moved in with Rocky, dude. Her nights of coming out with the girls have been radically reduced. Doesn't matter that her friend was dumped by an asshole who prefers to have someone younger and more mysterious than I could ever be.

I halted, standing in the middle of my room.

I realized the need to pinpoint the root of my unhappiness otherwise I would throw hateful thoughts in every direction. The search only resulted in my standing mutely for three or four minutes. Lifting my gaze back to the corkboard over my desk, I considered the remaining pictures keenly.

There was one of Ashley and I on the steps of the state capital building. Nothing important had taken place; we'd just been bored that day and decided to take a walk. A long walk. Our heads were drenched in sweat, our faces flushed, and our eyes shone tiredly. Our smiles, though exhausted, were genuine.

I ran my hands back through my hair so that my fingers tangled within the loose strands. Hot tears streamed down my face but instead of fighting them, I relished in the feeling. The anger hadn't been sparked by Colt or Ashley's moving in with Rocky; they were just fuel.

I was lost. I'd taken a path in life that led to an unexpected road block – I could thank my asshole of an ex for that. My eyes shut as my chest ached with unvoiced cries.

I was unsure where to go; and terrified that I'd have to overcome this obstacle on my own.