Official Pandemonium

Part I - Scene VIII

I learnt to lie when I was seven.

The deathly quiet. The whispers. The pity.

The dark.

They told me my parents had gone away to hunt for a treasure, just so I could be raised as a rich princess. It was a plausible theory, but children are more intuitive than adults will ever understand. I remember shouting at them, kicking, throwing a tantrum of epic proportions. I was their treasure. They had made a mistake. My parents wouldn't leave without me. They knew I was smart. They knew I could help them find this treasure.

So I waited for the adults to change their story. Maybe tell me something that involved pirates or dragons or endangered bears. Anything except the treasure.

They never did.

So I lied to myself. If my parents wanted to hunt for a treasure without me, then fine. Its not like they'd find it without help from me, anyway. They could spend an eternity finding it and I couldn't care less.

And they did just that.

My parents never came back.

But let me tell you something, lies never hurt. Not unless you're the one who utters them. Not unless you lie to the one in the mirror.

In this moment, I lie to myself.

I observe from my place in the shadows. There is a beauty to the quiet of the morning. The muted light filters through gauze curtains; the only illumination in the dark room. The sound of my footsteps echoes in the room as I lean in the doorway and study the man before me.

And I lie. I couldn't care less for him.

Slivers of light cast mysterious shadows across his face. I can see him in profile. The angular jawline. The slope of his nose. Features chiseled to perfection. His arms are folded as he sits at the wooden table by the window. Everything about his posture screams brittle.

Tense.

My gut is knotted. A ball of emotions, threads entangled beyond the point of rescue. I need to go back to my room and process all these unwanted feelings. Or possibly set them to fire and rejoice in the ashes...

And just when I thought that the silence would strangle me, he turns.

Thoughts scatter when I gaze into his cerulean eyes. They anchor me. And yet the sensation is almost like falling except that there is no impact. No jolt to reality. Nothing but a buzz in my mind, dimming rationality.

"Mai."

Its just my name, ricocheting in the room but the word ought to be written in poetry.

A step forward. Focus on breathing. Don't look. Don't.

The one problem with infatuation is that there is always an impact. A collision. Even when you think there is none.

I crash when I take in his appearance. Sleeplessness evident by the darkening circles under his eyes. Disheveled. Coat lost.

Everything pointing to his interlude with Masako.

My best friend.

Well, hell.

"Hey." I swallow, looking down at my feet. "I just wanted some water. I'll be going back to my room."

According to Taniyama Mai, there could be nothing more awkward than having an office affaire or worse, having to face the aforementioned person the night after.

Clearly, my systems need updating. I will get to that in a minute. Or ten. Whenever my brain feels like connecting me to my medulla.

What - I ask - could be more awkward than having to face your boss the day after he might have done the deed. Not with you, of course. With your best friend.

With Masako.

Infatuation, indeed.

We stare at one another. He wants me to contribute to our enjoyable conversation. I want him to look the other way. As usual, my wish is never granted.

Say something. Say something and let me go.

I'm acutely aware of the heat climbing up my neck.

"Why."

Davis never asks questions, I've noticed. He commands. I obey.

Not this time. I don't know what he's asking. Even if I did, I doubt I could talk around the lump lodged in my throat.

"What?" I croak.

He stands up, hands in his pocket and pushes the chair back with his boot.

"Don't lie." Another demand. One step forward. I back away until I collide with the closed door of my room. "I have no tolerance for that."

For one terrifying second, I think about Martin Davis and his elaborate plot. All spoiled. I think of the castle I've built, of my infatuation with this man. All lies.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" I snap, tears threatening. Why?! God! No more lies. "Stop bullying me!"

When he's close enough, I notice the burning curiosity in his gaze.

No, this isn't about the plan his father created. There is something else. So many lies to choose from.

Another staring contest ensues. I search his gaze for a reprieve from this position but he gives none. He looks at me in part exasperation, part resignation.

"You were crying." He states. Just that. I blink and make the mistake of looking up at him. Eyes wide. "Why."

"What?"

"Why do you keep doing that, Taniyama?" His voice is low yet unrelenting. The phrase rings in my head. "Why do you run?"

"I don't." I close my eyes. Longing sweeps through me. For a man I hate. For a man I barely know. Someone who keeps me on my toes, every single second of the day. All those games. It's all coming back to haunt me. "I don't know."

I'm so wound up that I don't even care enough to cry out in relief that he hasn't uncovered that one deception.

There isn't enough air in my lungs. Not enough strength in my system to be Taniyama Mai, Executive Assistant to Dr Oliver Davis, not enough to be the lie. This is me, all entangled in emotions. Fascinated by the cold in his eyes. By him.

And then he leans down.

Too close.

Not enough...

One whisper and I break.

"Liar."

He wasn't the one who was brittle. That was me. It was all me. We're one of the same kind.

"Why do you care?" I snarl. Why can't he just leave me alone! Why can't he go enjoy post-coital bliss or whatever it is with his childhood sweetheart? "Go to Masako, Mr Davis. She needs your kindness. Not me."

"I don't want to." His voice is flat. Words blunt. "I'm not Gene. I don't have oceans of kindness at my disposal."

"Pity, then." My words are so sharp. A lesser man would have flinched. "What a burden must it be for you to pretend."

A muscle in his jaw twitches. A slight flush on the crests of his cheeks.

"I don't know whether I want to strangle you or..." His words hang in the room, heavy. "Or..."

"Or what?" I taunt, dangling on the precipice of insanity. My heart pounds, threatening to break clean through my chest. He knows. He knows that John is not my fiance. He knows I am infatuated.

He seems to struggle with some thought for a moment. Stares at me, in deep contemplation.

And his gaze lingers at my mouth. Watching. Silent.

This was desire.

My head spins. Fast. So fast. Round and round and round.

He blinks.

Then he straightens. Putting distance between us. My lungs deflate, dragging air in.

"Mai." He pauses and I receive the distinct impression that he mentally shakes his head to clear it. I would know. I am in a similar state, after all. "Taniyama."

My breathing is irregular.

"You..." He stops, carefully thinking of words suitable enough. As if trying to salvage lost control. "You had nightmares, last night. I would have interfered but the door was locked."

I reel. I wasn't even aware of dozing off, so acute was the sting in my eyes. "How many times?"

"The whole night."

I gaze at him in wonder, the meaning of his words crashing on me like a wave. "So, you... you were up all night...just so I couldn't hurt myself..."

"I'm not sure how anyone could've slept through it." He averts his gaze, looking out of the window. Liar. Liar. "It was hardly martyrdom."

"B-but!" I stammer, failing to summon logic. "There's a connecting door between our rooms. How...?"

A frown tilts the edges of his mouth. "I'm not sure I understand. I was out here. In the living room."

This is too much to process.

Golden light streams in. The horizon is red, angry streaks crossing through careless splotches of blue.

The sun rises. Brilliant. Bold.

I watch, transfixed as all that colour puts him in a whole new light. There is a strange indentation near his left eye. The little imperfection to the slope of his nose that hints of being broken. A scar to the right side of his mouth, narrowly missing his lip.

Human.

The magic spell wears off too soon; Davis takes a step backwards as if proximity threatens to scald him. He collects his coat and his spectacles from the table and leaves.

Without a backwards glance.

And as I stand there, fazed and dizzy, I realize something.

Somewhere, along the way, in the moment with Davis, I forgot to lie to myself...


Oliver


I do not need my extraordinary powers of observation to know that Lin is here. At my house. At seven in the morning.

"Noll." He salutes me with a glass of wine, dangling from one hand. "You have recovered your navigational prowess, I assume."

Clearly, my guardian needs to be reminded of boundaries. Several of which, in fact, do not tolerate frequent breach.

"Lin." I acknowledge, discarding the coat, not even caring where it lands. I stand in front of him and fold my arms, looking down at him in clear disapproval.

He raises an eyebrow and tilts his head. "Don't throw your tantrums, Noll. Its despicable."

"Why are you here?"

He stands, drawing himself up to his full height, glaring at me.

"Answer this, Noll. And try being truthful." He enunciates each word as if talking to an infant. Or an imbecile. "Where were you?"

I refuse to answer. Stubborn. Staring ahead.

"Were you or were you not at Taniyama's apartment?"

No point in concealing the truth now. He knows. He has to.

I am an anomaly. I need to be scrutinized.

"Yes."

"Did you or did you not lose control of your emotions?"

I grit my teeth and force myself to answer. I owe it to Lin. I'm dangerous. I need their help. I need to keep all impulses in check.

"Yes. Almost. Twice." I avert my gaze because I know I have failed him. Twelve years. All of it takes a leap out of the nearest window when she appears.

I concentrate on my breathing. In and out. Any moment now. The treatise on the importance of control.

But when I look up, I catch him smiling. Almost.

He walks towards the door, stopping on the way to pat my shoulders.

"Good for you, Noll." He says. "Good for you."


"Miss Taniyama, is it?" The tinkling, feminine voice confirms over the phone. "I hope I can talk to Oliver, if he isn't busy, that is."

Oliver, is it?

The flirtatious undertones to her words make me raise my eyebrow in curiosity.

Davis and I have waged a campaign of resolutely ignoring each other this afternoon. He doesn't even leave his office to order minions about, just to indulge his sadistic streak. I stick to my desk confirming reservations and checking in on flight times for our trip tomorrow. Up until this point, I haven't disturbed him for anything really.

And now we have another woman who is on first-name basis with Davis. Slow clap.

"Who may I say is calling?"

Hag seems a good enough epithet. Not that jealousy ever resulted in productivity. I need to get over this. Whatever it is.

"Oh!" She exclaims and then laughs gracefully. "Tell him its Miss Ubusuna from Japan. Kei Ubusuna."


A/N: I think this pretty much wraps it up. I wanted this chapter to be a sort of filler. We've had much excitement by this time and since now we're off to Part II, I felt like we needed neutrality.

And of course, we have Ubusuna in the game now...

See you all in Part II. Much more to come, lovelies!

Please review. They are lifelines! Cookies to all~

-borntoflyhigh-