"I want you laid bare; I want to make you mine."
…
"Hey careful with that!" Bard admonishes a fresh-faced youth as he tries to take apart the mic set up for his drum kit. In his haste, the kid accidentally drops a mic on a high hat; the steely clang reverberates throughout the empty room making everyone jump.
The label sent lackeys to help us set up for rehearsals and the performance itself. I guess we're too cool to do our own set ups anymore. They scurry around the stage like mice, gathering everything together and setting up for the opening act. Despite the initial mic drop, they've been quite good in making the change over as seamless as possible.
Saturday came surprisingly quickly and it's the day we debut as a properly signed act. Everyone seems to love soaking up their fifteen minutes of fame, whereas I prefer to be exactly where I am at the bar working on a set of lyrics. Tapping the back of my pen down on my notebook, I play out the rhythm of the song in my head and make some minor adjustments. With each change comes another line crossed out. I'm messing up, I'm unfocused, totally distracted and have been since Thursday night.
I've been preoccupied with thoughts of my miserablist. The kid twists me up so tight I'm nearly wrung dry and I like it.
Smiling to myself I wonder if he'll even show? I sent him a quick text with the location and time, and asked if he was coming but Ciel simply replied with 'maybe'. This eager anticipation is about all I can stand, as I will the time to move faster. Looking over my shoulder I can see the set up for the first band is complete. In a bid to impress, I've made sure the fact he's here to see us play stayed a secret. This was no mean feat on my part as Ciel's blond firecracker friend has spent the last few nights attached to Claude. However, he seems willing to keep the secret to surprise him as well, a gesture I find amusing, it's like he's almost human.
A hipster with two-toned hair, thick-rimmed glasses and a sharp black suit comes over to me, resting his back against the edge of the bar.
"You're Sebastian, right?" He asks me with a grin.
"Yeah," I nod, still trying to focus to my mind on something other than Ciel.
"I'm Ronald," he holds his hand out to me. "I'm the front for We Hate You, Please Die."
"I know who you are," I reply, giving his hand a firm shake. "I watched you rehearse, you guys are good."
His eyes light up behind his glasses. "Yeah? You think so? That's such a compliment coming from you."
"Me?"
"Well yeah, I heard you guys on the 6 Music emerging artists show the other day. Fucking brilliant mate, fucking brilliant." Ronald enthuses.
"Of course they were brilliant!" Our manager interjects, coming up from behind me. Throwing his arm around my neck he jerks me into him, tossing his long slivery hair over his shoulder. "Haven't heard a sound like 'em before, which is why I signed 'em."
You can divide managers into two types; first are the Svengali nutcases like Malcolm McLaren and Phil Spector or the straight-laced accountant types like Brian Epstein. Luckily, for us, the label deemed us worthy to have both types.
Undertaker, as he prefers to be called, embodies the first type and is totally mental. We have many theories as to why this is but I suspect it's because he did more blow than Elton John in the late 80s. The other curious thing about him is his age; no one is entirely sure how old Undertaker actually is. He often regales us with tales of Gin soaked nights with The Prodigy, as well as pogoing with The Damned at 100 Club in the mid-70s. I like his look though. He's a tall, lanky man with very long grey hair - grey hair that covers his eyes and reaches down to his ass. He's dressed in a tight black t-shirt with matching leather trousers and black patent thigh boots with buckles and straps looping around his legs. Undertaker is my kind of manager; he has a hands-off approach and just lets us get on with it, something I greatly appreciate as his counterpart is a giant pain in my ass.
The soft trill of a mobile phone sounds off in Undertaker's pocket. Grinning, he pulls it out and answers it, nodding; he taps me on the shoulder and leaves us.
"That guy's odd," Ronald notes, watching him go.
"Yeah but he's pretty good at what he does, so I can't complain." I smile.
"Oi! Ronald! You planning on joining us at some point?" Someone shouts from by the stage. He's also in a black suit with glasses; it must be their uniform or something. Ronald rolls his eyes and runs a gloved hand through his hair.
"Sorry mate, maybe we can talk some other time?" He grins.
"Yeah," I nod. "Have a good show tonight."
"You too, I'm so fucking excited!" He shouts over his shoulder as he heads over to his band mates.
Another loud clang and tirade from Bard later, I know I need to get some air. Dropping my pen down on the countertop, I rub my eyes. After a moment they open to see the other person the label stuck us with, the bane of my existence and Undertaker's counterpart, the far too serious William T. Spears. Not one strand is out of place on his perfectly coifed hair or a speck of lint on his crisp suit. What he's doing with a Goth band is the great enigma of our signing. He hates me and the feeling is well and truly mutual.
"Can I help you?" I ask with an arch in my brow.
"Have you gone over my notes?" He questions in an acerbic tone whilst adjusting his glasses.
"If you mean the scrap of paper with meaningless scrawling on how to come across in interviews, then yes I did," I smile.
"Oh?"
"I filed it in the bin."
"Sebastian, I need you to take this seriously."
"Who says I'm not?"
"There have been some complaints from other members-"
"You mean Claude," I interrupt.
"No, I mean other members-"
"Claude," I cut him off again, my head turns to look for the nagging bastard but I can't seem to see him.
He sighs. "All right, yes, Claude has raised some concerns about your attitude and personally, I think there are some improvements to be made in how you come across in interviews."
"Is that so?" I snort.
"Oh my God Claude, this place is amazing," A voice gushes from behind. Turning I see the blond firecracker from the other night in the middle of the room with two girls, another blond and a brunette. Looking around, the firecracker spots me at the bar.
A big grin streaks across his face, he saunters over to me with an over articulated switch in his hips. I slide off my stool and push past William as the blond stands in front of me. He bats his eyes slowly and extends his hand.
"You must be Sebastian," he states, placing his hand in mine. "I'm Alois, Alois Trancy."
"Nice to meet you formally Alois," I smile. The two girls accompanying him walk up from behind. The one as blond as Alois is in a fitted black dress which accentuates every curve of her perfectly formed body. The brunette is shorter, her dress is belled out from her waist and her face is round and childlike, they couldn't be more opposite.
"Sebastian, this is Lizzie," Alois motions to the blond who leans in to kiss both of my cheeks, giving my shoulders a little squeeze in the process.
"Pleased to meet you," she smiles, studying my face.
"And this is Sieglinde," he introduces the brunette who holds her hand out for me to shake but instead, I take it into mine and bend to plant a delicate kiss on her knuckles. Blushing furiously she giggles and snatches her hand back.
"I will have you know I am taken," she informs me in a thick German accent.
"Is that so?" I smirk. "Then they are very lucky."
She wraps her arm around Lizzie's tiny waist and pulls her into her.
"Yes, she is quite lucky," she smiles, causing Lizzie's rouged cheeks to burn bright red.
"Oh Sieg, stop it," she admonishes with a giggle. Sieglinde responds by nuzzling her neck, running the tip of her nose along the side.
"I can't take you two anywhere," Alois sighs, rolling his eyes.
Looking around, I don't see the familiar pout of my miserablist.
"Has Ciel come with you?" I ask, not seeing a glimpse of him anywhere and trying to stifle my disappointment.
Alois shakes his head. "No but don't worry, he'll show."
"You seem sure."
"If there's one thing I know about Ciel, it's that he's good to his word."
Before I can say anything more, I feel a sharp tug on my elbow and I'm lead away from the group.
"We haven't finished," William reprimands, dragging me to the other end of the bar.
"I was talking," I snap.
"How is it you can be so charming to those people but an absolute pillock when interviewed?"
"I like them," I shrug and he grimaces.
"Look, I don't like you-"
"You don't say?" I simper.
"And I don't pretend to like you but I was assigned to your band and it's my job to ensure you're a success. So, if you could please stop being a giant horse's arse and just try a little, it would make everyone's life a little easier."
I know it's not William's fault, I'm sure we're out of his comfort level as he normally works with Classical music artists. I feel for the guy, I really do. Undertaker is unstable on the best on days, I honestly can't be fucked, the rest of the band, well, and he's stuck with us. Still, that doesn't mean my hand doesn't itch to high five his face on occasion.
"I'll try harder," I concede, deciding it easier to just get on with him for the time being.
"Thank you Sebastian," he says dryly. "Now can we talk about your set list?"
"What about it?" There's that itch in my hand again.
"You didn't include the single."
"I don't like it," I dismiss.
"It doesn't matter if you like it or not, you still have to promote it," he advises. "Just put it between-"
"I'm not changing the set list," I state.
"Yes you are," he says firmly. Simply snorting and shaking my head I push past him and go behind the bar.
"What are you doing?" He huffs; watching me as I select a bottle of what I hope is something strong.
"I need a drink, you're doing my fucking head in," I reply, leaving the bar, bottle in tow as I head for the curtain partition.
"Where are you going?" He demands to know.
"To drink in peace," I answer over my shoulder but then I stop, in my annoyance I almost forgot something. "If Ciel does turn up, let him know I had to do something. I'll be back shortly," I give my most charming smile to the kids who stare back at me with a blank look. They nod nevertheless and I disappear behind the curtain.
…
Making my way through the busy streets of Camden, I take comfort in the eccentricity of this place. Walking down the street chugging a bottle of what I now realise is whisky seems the norm here. Nobody knows me and nobody cares to know me, it's bliss. Over the last few months it has been nothing but interviews and promotional performances. My name is making its way into popularity along with the band, no doubt due to William's heavy promoting. It's only a matter of time where moments like this will seem like a memory.
Getting down to Regent's Canal, I walk along the pathway down the stairs and along the locks.
I like to come here to cool my head and empty my thoughts. It's peaceful and quiet despite the noise from above. Getting to my spot, I lean against the wall and stare out over the rippling water. This shit is starting to get to me. It was supposed to be about the music and the enjoyment of what we do and now it's being put through the system, processed, and manufactured. I must be an idealist, thinking things would be different but they're not. We're being paraded around like show ponies, the latest next big thing and we've yet to release an album yet. I'd walk away, chuck it in but it wouldn't be fair on the others who've worked just as hard. What is my problem? This should be what I wanted right? This is the dream, isn't it? Feels like a bloody nightmare.
"Ugh, fuck this," I groan aloud, resting my head against the cold stonewall. Taking another swig of whisky, I gulp it down and hold the bottle up to my face. Giving it a little swirl, I become transfixed by the dark amber liquid inside in a bid to occupy my mind with something else.
I wonder if he'll really show? His friends seem to think so, but I'm not convinced. Smiling, I think about what he'll look like. Will my miserablist wear the same dissatisfied look as when I first met him? I hope so. I know that his haughty demeanour would put off lesser beings, but not me, I love a challenge.
What will he taste like? Will he be as he smells - soft, sweet and decadent? He has made it clear he doesn't really want anything to do with me, so what I can do to change his mind? He's not the type to be easily swayed by my charms, he might be a lost cause but I can't seem to let this one go, what can I do to win him over?
Looking up at the sky I can tell it's getting late, I'd better get back or I'll catch hell from William. Patting myself down I find my spare pen tucked away in my back pocket, pulling it out and holding the lid between my teeth, I mark the bottle at the level of the liquid and screw the top back on with one hand. Searching around for a place to store it, I hide the bottle in a small enclave and head back to the club.
…
As I approach the club I spot William standing out like a sore thumb amongst the crowd waiting to get in. His arms are clenched tightly around his chest as his eyes dart around, looking for me I suspect. His gaze lands on me, and he drops his arms in a huff.
"Where have you been?" He snaps.
"For a walk," I reply over my shoulder, passing him. Stomping up behind me William plants his hand firmly on my back and pushes me past the security guard and into the club.
"Your complete lack of professionalism baffles me. I hope to God you pull it together when you're on stage."
"You'll have to wait and see, won't you?" I jibe.
"Honestly Michaelis, I don't get you."
"What's to get?" I grin.
Shuffling me down the corridor, past the curtain and into the club, he ushers me to the other members of the band but I stop dead, sending him straight into my back.
I see him, my pouting miserablist. He came after all.
"Why did you stop?" William keeps pushing into me but I shrug him off. A smile creeps onto my lips as I move past the others who start to fill the club and make my way over to him. I need to hide my enthusiasm at his being here; I don't want him to know how much he's been on my mind these last few days.
I don't rush, choosing to take my time. My eyes linger on him, his back to me as he stands at he bar. He seems different than when I first met him, more comfortable and at ease in the clothes he wears but his pout is still there. So engrossed with tapping the edge of a beer mat on the bar top, he doesn't realise I'm standing behind him. Taking a moment to breathe him in, I still catch the scent of tea with a hint of sweetness and chocolate.
"You made it," I purr sweetly into his ear. He drops the beer mat sliding to the side to face me. His eye lowers as he takes me in; a slight smile creeps onto his lips and rests his arm up on the bar.
"What's with the rosary?" He asks. What, not even a good evening? Still planning on making this difficult for me I see.
"What can I say? I've been known to commit a lot of sins," I reply with a devilish smirk.
"Ha," he retorts dryly.
"I'm surprised you came," I smile and he arches an eyebrow in response.
"Oh?"
"Well you made it clear you don't want any friends or whatever," I say languidly, moving closer to him. "I didn't think I'd see you again."
Ciel lets out a soft snort as he takes a little step to the side. He's trying to hide it but I can see his cheeks as they flush.
"What kind of club night is this anyway?" He mumbles. Leaning against the bar, I rest my elbow on the top and let my hands dangle down.
"It's a band night," I answer, running my hand though my hair. Glancing over to him I notice a look of worried fear on his face. "Don't worry, there's only two tonight," I add, figuring his fretting over how long he'll have to listen to music he's not really into. I know this isn't his crowd or his scene, which makes me even more so pleased he's come. Ciel talks a good game but he wouldn't be here if he weren't the least bit interested.
He studies me, his gaze firmly on my hand.
"What's that?" He asks.
"It's the tetragrammaton, a variation of it anyway," I reply.
"There you are Sebastian; I wondered where you fucked off to." Bard grumbles as he approaches us.
"Bard, have you met Ciel?" I introduce.
He nods with a grin. "Ciel and I go way back," he pauses as his eyes dart to the both of us. So, how long have you two been fucking?"
Ciel coughs, hitting his chest to help him breathe as his face flushes bright red.
"We're not, uh, we just-"
"Why do you have to be such an ass, Bard?" I interject, trying to save Ciel from any further embarrassment.
"What? He knows I'm just fucking with him, right Ciel?" He laughs and I sigh shaking my head.
"Don't mind Bard, he's crass for the sake of it."
"Quite," Ciel clears his throat.
"He's from Los Angeles, the home of no culture," I jest.
"Fuck you buddy," Bard snips with a deep frown. There's a little chuckle from Ciel and we both turn to him with a mixture of amusement and surprise on our faces at the fact he can laugh at something. "Looks like the boy's got a sense of humour."
"Only slight," Ciel smiles.
"Well let's get a drink in ya and see if we can improve on it," Bard chuckles, landing a few sharp slaps to his back sending him forwards.
The lights dim and a hush comes over the crowd as an emcee takes the stage.
"Welcome to Slaughterhouse-Five, how's everyone tonight?" He shouts. The audience whistle and cheer. "Excellent! We have an awesome show for you tonight starting with We Hate You, Please Die, followed by the main event, Devil's Blood!" The audience scream loudly at the mention of our name. I never thought I would feel as excited as I do, but hearing the crowd cheer for us, it's exhilarating.
The emcee amps the crowd up with their traditional attitude check. As we all flick a two-fingered V at him and shout back a resounding fuck you, I steal a quick glance at Ciel who looks completely unamused. His brow is furrowed in perplexed confusion and I think I may have even caught a little eye roll.
"Police check!"
"Fuck me!" The crowd shout back and everyone bursts out into a roar of laugher.
"I suppose that'll do. Now let's get started. Welcome to the stage, We Hate You, Please Die!" The emcee announces and then leaves the stage, letting the band come on.
They begin loud and hard.
Ronald grips the microphone tightly in his gloved hands as he screams his lyrics into it. I like their sound, the way they use static and hiss to create a rhythm and the bass providing a solid beat - it's clever. As I nod along to the music I see a fleck of blond pass me as Lizzie pulls Sieglinde on to the dance floor. Alois has already ensnared Claude, grinding against him whereas Drossell and Bard hang out along the sidewall.
Rolling my head to the side, I trail my eyes over my miserablist as the band begins their set. Ciel doesn't strike me as the type to dance and judging by his lack of movement at the club the other night, it's a safe bet he won't want to. However, this may be the only chance I get to feel him and have him close. Taking my chances, I lean over to his ear.
"Do you want to dance?" I ask.
"Do I look like I dance?" He returns. I figured as much but I've decided I'm not taking no for an answer.
"Fair enough," I smile and put my hand on his back pushing him forwards. Ciel staggers a few steps but enough for me to slide behind him. In a quick motion I hook my fingers into his belt loops and pull him against me. His back thumps against my chest as I wrap my arms around his waist.
Tensing up, his whole body is rigid but I give him a little squeeze to comfort him. The band starts a new song with more of a movable beat and I rock my hips from side to side taking him with me.
I like the feel of him on me and how my arms envelope him.
His hips press firmly against mine as we move and it's making me crazy. Ciel starts to relax into our rhythm and I start to feel bold. My hands lay flat on his hips and then they creep around to the sides of his waist. He gives an approving hum and as I'm an opportunist, I take advantage of his permission and slide my hands down to the tops of his thighs. His head rolls back as he looks at me with a wide blinking eye.
"What are you doing?"
Bowing my head, I smile. "Feeling you."
Ciel's body rocks with a shudder causing him to slip down but I catch him, holding him tight in my arms. He keeps his head still tilted towards my face; he closes his eye as his lips curl into a small smile. This kid, this fucking kid. He's driving me out of my mind. With the slightest of smiles and the feel of him against me, I know I'm fighting a losing battle with my self control. Running my hands up the length of his sides, my fingers burn to feel the skin under these clothes and explore every part of him. Each touch and shake of his hips makes my thoughts turn to the debauched and depraved as I watch him enjoy himself to the rhythm of the music. There is a faint vibration of a satisfied hum against my chest, it's like he's purring. Ciel's hands reach back and graze against my thighs as he rubs me in just the right spot and this is about all I can stand.
However, before I know it, the audience cheer and the set is done. I don't want to move, not wanting him off my body. Bard comes over to us with a knowing look written on his face, it's our turn I guess.
"I need to borrow him for a bit," Bard grins. Giving Ciel a gentle squeeze, I move him to the side. The distance between us already felt.
"I'll see you in a minute, try not to miss me," I whisper in his ear just before letting him go.
Bard leads me to the others who are waiting by the side door. Giving it a quick pull, he opens it and we head backstage.
It doesn't matter if it's a gig where we're crammed in the back of a tiny pub, or in a large place like this, the feeling is the same. The excitement hits like rush of blood to the head, it can make you dizzy or it can make you feel powerful but either way, it's a high. As everyone changes and readies themselves, I lean against the wall and try to clear my mind, still feeling the weight of Ciel against me.
My eyes drift down and I can see the glint from shiny black polished shoes standing in front of me. Looking up I see William standing with his arms folded, waiting to be acknowledged.
"You are ubiquitous," I smirk.
"Will you please reconsider including the single in the set list?" He requests as politely as he possibly can with a fraying patience. I give him a hard stare and then nod.
"Yeah, all right," I agree. His face instantly scrunches up as though he caught a whiff of a bad smell.
"Are you messing with me?"
"Not at all dear William, I would be happy to perform it."
His eyes narrow as he looks at me suspiciously.
"Michaelis, are you high right now?" He asks. "Just tell me what you took and-"
"I'm not high but thanks for the vote of confidence," I snort.
"Forgive me, I didn't realise you'd do as asked for once."
"Don't get me wrong, I'm not doing this for you-"
"All right kiddies gather round," Undertaker chuckles, waving his arms to make us huddle close. "This is your first performance as a signed act, don't fuck it up."
"The hell kind of pep talk is that?" Bard grumbles.
"The best you're going to get from me," Undertaker laughs. "Now get out there and make me proud."
"Wait, there's a change in the set list," I interject and I'm met with curious stares from the group. "We're dropping Only Hollow and doing What I Want instead."
"Oh the single, excellent, excellent!" Undertaker excitedly slaps me on the back. "I wondered why it wasn't included in the first place."
"Why indeed," William mutters under his breath.
"Well we are now," I smile.
Walking into the corridor and down towards the stage entrance, we wait to be called on.
"Attitude check!" The emcee exclaims from the stage.
"Fuck you!" The crowd shouts back.
"You ready?" Bard asks me from behind and I nod. The crowd clap their hands and shout but in my mind, it's silent as I steady my nerves.
"All right, I know who you're waiting for so let's bring 'em out, put your hands together for Devil's Blood!" He introduces us, the fine hairs stand on the back of my neck as I roll my shoulders and step out onto the stage.
Deciding to get straight into it, Bard pounds out a thump on his kick drum and we begin. Getting close to the mic, I keep my voice low as I sing into it. I'm not a screamer, preferring to keep my voice clean and clear. The audience move and sway along to the music as they sing along with me. I feel like a snake charmer, making them dance to the cadence like hypnotised serpents under my spell.
We're good, a finely polished act our managers can be proud of. Drossell provides the rhythm as Bard and Claude create a beat. I let the words pour from my lips as I add the style, plucking out various chords on my guitar. I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy this, I love it. The command and hold we have over the audience is spectacular. Huge speakers along the sides of the stage rattle the floor as everyone moves to our sound like they're possessed, completely taken over by the music.
Glancing down I see Ronald and the other members of his band thrashing about to the music.
Ploughing through the set list and finishing a few songs, we pause for a quick breather. Bending over I grab the water bottle by the base of the mic stand, unscrewing the lid and taking a sip.
"You might know this next one," I smile at the crowd, sitting the bottle back down and clearing my throat. "It's called What I Want."
The audience erupt into a boisterous cheer giving us their approval for the next song and we begin.
Fingers slide along the neck of my guitar, stretching, and pressing down on the strings as I switch from chord to chord. Glancing down, I see a group of women in the front waving their arms and shaking their hips actively trying to catch my attention. Lowering my eyes, I give them a little smile before my gaze travels over to the bar; seeking out the one person I want to see.
Ciel is still by the bar, his eye unblinkingly staring at me with the small trace of a smile on his lips. Holding his stare, my hand gently caresses the top of the mic. I can't wait to sing the next line as it's for my miserablist; I want him to hear it, to feel it reverberate through him.
"I'm desperate to feel you again, for you to know my touch," I sing softly, making sure my eyes never leave his. "I want you laid bare; I want to make you mine."
Arms are waving, everyone dances and sings with me but I couldn't care less about them, there's only one person I'm performing for. I can see him swallow, his face lit perfectly by the lights. He's under my spell now; I've managed to draw him in.
Closing my eyes and letting my hand drop from the mic, I graze my fingers over the cold steel of the handle, stroking it gently.
"I've got you in my sights and I won't let you get away. I want what I want, I always get what I want," I finish the last line of the song with a long drawn out burst of air. Transitioning into a new song, we carry on with our set. Each new song drives the next one, we stomp our feet and play to the crowd and then it's over. The audience screams loudly and we make our way off the stage.
"Fuck that was amazing!" Bard declares excitedly as we get backstage. "Did you see how much they love us?"
Ignoring him I grab a towel from the side table and dab my face before quickly dropping it and heading for the exit to the main room.
"Where're you going?" Drossell asks me, following behind slightly. I don't reply, keeping my mind focused on only one thing. Have I done enough to entice him? I wonder, pushing the door open and disappearing off into the crowd.
I'm not a romantic. I don't believe in love at first sight or fairy tail stories. I hate anything cliché, sappy sentiments and sayings are trite and meaningless to me. However, as I make my way over to him, I feel like the room is moving in slow motion. The surrounding sounds are gone and what's left is only my breath with each exhale. My legs propel me towards him, drawn like a magnet. He smiles at Lizzie and my heart thumps hard in my chest. It's cliché, sure, but it's an amazing feeling and something I can get used to.
My thoughts are impure as my eyes study him. I can't imagine what he'd be like underneath me, how he would move or the sounds he would make. Will he purr at the gentlest of touches? Will his voice go hoarse as I make him scream? I don't know but I'm desperate to find out, if he'll let me. I want to be addicted to him; I want him in my veins.
Have I done enough to make him interested?
Lizzie's eyes roll to the side and light up when I come into view. "Hi," she smiles. "You guys were amazing."
"Thank you," I smile, coming up behind Ciel. Sliding next to him, I notice he's not looking at me but is fidgeting. "What did you think Ciel?" I wonder, leaning against the bar. My arm lightly taps against his and I can feel him quake with a shudder. I love the fact I make him nervous and I love how his body responds to even the gentlest of touch.
"Yes, you were quite good," he replies quickly. "Good show," he ends with the most perfect receded pronunciation.
"Pip pip and all that," Bard mocks, trying to put on his very best practiced Cockney accent, no doubt picked up from his occasional girlfriend Mey-Rin. "Care for a spot of fish 'n' chips, guv'nor?"
"Yes all right, I get it," Ciel mumbles under his breath, obviously embarrassed. Leaning into him, I give Ciel a gentle nudge and smile.
"I know it seems this giant excuse of a human being is a jerk, and he is, but it also means he likes you."
"Yeah kid, you're all right," Bard chuckles. "But I'll leave you two love birds alone, I'm going out for a smoke."
Bard leaves us but we're still surrounded by his friends and the club is jam-packed. I can see a group forming along the side of people who seemingly wish to get my attention but I'm desperate to get Ciel alone. His eye anxiously darts around the club, I'm sure he can see them waiting for their moment with me and perhaps he thinks he should leave me to it but I don't want him to go. In fact, I'm frantically searching my mind for any reason to get him to leave with me right now.
"Hey, can I take you someplace?" I suggest with a smile but he seems hesitant.
"I should probably stay with my friends," Ciel brushes me off. Glancing over my shoulder, I see his friends otherwise engaged and I know it's now or never, he's leaving with me.
"They seem busy," I say quickly as I take his hand, not giving him the opportunity to deny me again. "Come on, it's not far from here, I'll have you back before they even know you're gone."
"Okay fine," he sighs.
Without a second thought I pull him through the crowd and head for the curtain.
I don't have a plan and I don't know what we'll do but I know one thing, I need to get him alone. I need him all to myself.
