Jason and I were at the kitchen, one of us just got home and the other was about to leave. Therefore, maybe, I could say I was having dinner with my roommate for breakfast.
I started up the conversation by asking him, "So, were you late last night?"
"Yeah a bit, but they didn't make as much fuss of it as I thought... Well, I got a full five minutes complaint in total which was not bad."
"What a picky boss!"
"Correction. Picky, mini-bosses. They're all like one-forth my size, but I couldn't do anything!"
I laughed at his exaggerated frustration and took the chance to question about his occupation, "What do you actually do at night? Taking care of kids?"
He groaned and rolled his eyes.
Anyway, I shoved the thoughts away because I was dying to tell him about my night, "Guess which Bat I got to talk to last night!"
"Oh, so you've asked about mine to tell me yours. I'm hurt. I thought you were being considerate."
"I was! But, I also want to tell you mine. So make a guess."
"Nightwing's not here. Batgirl and Orphan doesn't come around this part of the city much. The Big Bat doesn't talk. Robin's a brat. Red Robin's probably overdosing on caffeine somewhere. We live near Crime Alley, so it's Red Hood."
"Correct! But I'm curious, what did you mean by 'Red Robin's probably overdosing on caffeine somewhere'? How did you even know about it?"
"I had to go after him on one of my missions. He was drinking gallons of coffee with energy drinks. He probably already invented caffeine patches for himself by now... Sometimes, I don't know how that kid's alive."
"Oh... Like the ones from 'Meet the Robinsons'? Twelve cups of coffee a patch?"
"Yeah, but probably more."
"No wonder why, he doesn't grow."
He burst out laughing at my comment.
"Hey! Don't laugh! I was being sentimental for the poor guy! It must be tough for him!"
He did not listen, but he settled down soon enough.
"Alright, let's get back to what I wanted to tell you."
"Mm-hmm," he sounded, picking up his glass of water.
"The Red Hood reads the same book you do."
Suddenly, he choked on his water and vigorously coughed it out. "Say what?!" he quested with an eyebrow arched and his voice almost an octave higher.
"Yeah, I know right! It was sticking out of his back pocket when he climbed back up to the building. It was far away, but I can clearly see that it was that cover. I can't believe my eyes, too!"
He paused, realizing something, and uttered, "Oh. Yeah. What a coincidence."
"Is the book that good that he also had one?"
"Excuse me, 'is the book that good'? It's a classic! I would've said, he got a great taste in literature."
"Hmm, really? You're not just praising yourself by praising him? (I'm not trying to discredit you, or anything, it just seems like what you'd do when you got the chance to.)"
He shrugged. I guessed, he did not care how I wanted to interpret it.
"Anyway, there's more about him I want to tell you."
"Seriously? More about the Red Hood? Isn't knowing that he can differentiate between a good book and a bad book enough already? What's so good about him anyway?" he laid a guilt trip on me for talking too much about the anti-hero.
I did not feel a tint of guilt, and if there was some, I flicked it off like dust. I continued, "Well, first of all, he's a good listener. (Unlike you, right now.)"
"Oh, c'mon, he was probably dozing off under that mask," he asserted.
"Seriously," I scolded. "You can't just shove your bad personalities into someone else's throat!"
"So defensive," he pouted bitterly.
"Well, I've been following his work. I don't see why shouldn't I. He's a good guy."
"... Are you sure? Do we even have the same definition for 'good guy'?"
"Yeah, I think so," I explained, "I know he kills people. He taints the glorious Bat's code of no killing. Actually, no one even knows if he's part of the family, or not. He might have just taken the Bat's sign for himself... But, he stands tall in the grey area where no one dared to. He's not scared of making his hands dirty, and he is really brave to do so. Not like the others that tries to keep their hands clean, while they were already half way in the mud."
I paused, discovering that it still did not clarify how he was a 'good guy', so I concluded, "I guess, from where I grew up, I learned that good things always come with a price. And, the price has to be paid, no matter if it was to do the wrong things. But, most importantly, it's how much you pay to end it for good... He paid the most, it shows, and the result doesn't lie. I just couldn't help but respect him for that."
"... Hmm," he sounded, covering his face. He seemed so uncomfortable that his ears redden.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be a hypocrite by shoving my idea to you. It's just an opinion, and it's very biased... Just forget it."
"Wait," he spoke softly, "You can't just give it to me and take it away like that."
I was really out of context about what he said, but my hand was already reaching out again when I heard the shatters in his voice. He caught me again as well; although, this time he held on to it.
He sighed out of ease and squeezed my hand gently, before placing it back to where it should be: away from him. There was an obvious line between us that he did not want me to cross, and I respected it. I stayed on my side, and he remained in his.
"What you said," he spoke distantly, "if you really mean it, don't take it back."
I shook my head and repeated, "I won't."
Soon, it was time for me to leave, but before I did, I gave him a pat on the back. I had no idea what he was going through and no intention of stepping over the line, but I wanted to support him as a human to one another, a roommate, a friend.
He did not oppose my action, but he also did not accept it openly. He had no need to because I just wanted to give him the message.
After work, I went straight to do the errands, so I would not end up walking at night again. There was too much dear in my life that I did not even want to risk it by facing a mugger.
Upon leaving with my required groceries, it seemed like I always encountered the unnecessaries and gave into it. And this time, there was a displayed mountain of strawberries on sale, sixty-percent off.
As most people may notice, I had a small complex with strawberries and ended up taking four boxes of it with me. Then next to it, there was some whipped cream and chocolate syrup, and of course, how could I miss out.
To not get any further out of hand because I was limiting myself to the money I could use each week, I went straight to the cashier and checked out. I was not even dared to look at the flyer the cashier gave me before I was far from the store.
Apparently, the flyer was nothing about food or spending more money. It was from some newly opened paintball arena, giving out one free trial to an every-persons-for-themselves game. It had a limited players of twenty, but the last man standing would get a trophy and a free membership.
The prize did not intrigue me as much as the game did. I had not played paint ball for a couple years now, so this might bring back some good memories. It was being hosted on Saturday as well, and as a relationship-less person, it was a happy, free day.
I reached home by the time I finished reading the terms and conditions. Then, I began filling up half the fridge with the goodies I bought. The empty half of the fridge was Jason's. He had not cooked since I arrived, but which ever bread I knew, he had them. So, I guessed, the space he used outside the fridge made up for it.
Although, interestingly for a house with only two people in it, I had never seen a single slice of bread went bad. He probably ate them, but I could not imagine someone eating at least ten loaf of bread a week. That could add up to two loafs a day!
Seriously, how much carbs did he eat per day? Or maybe, he gave it away before it got moldy?
Well, did I really care? Not really. I might have even given it too much thoughts already.
I returned to my task of rinsing and de-stemming two boxes of strawberries for my own convenient. I placed them in a large bowl and left them in the fridge to cool down.
Meanwhile, I changed into my pajamas and dried my hair which felt like centuries. Literally, my arms were dangling out of soreness when I got to all of my hair.
At least, I was done with that, and I could enjoy a movie since I had no meetings tomorrow. I picked up the strawberries and placed it on my lap with the whipped cream and chocolate syrup at reach from the couch.
As the movie started, I held on to the bowl of strawberries. They were nice and cold, and I gave it a taste-test once I topped the whipped cream on some of them. The bite I had of the strawberry topped with cream made my day, and the second with chocolate made it even better.
The sweet and sour feelings made me shivered satisfyingly until I detected an unwanted attention... Jason was going to work around this time. He walked pass me to the bathroom. He did not seem to notice that I had a bowl of strawberries at first, but when he came out all dressed, he was staring like a wolf.
He casually sat next to me, as if I did not know his ulterior motive.
"Mine," I told him, before he planned anything.
"Hmm, I don't see your name on it."
"I don't have to. It's on my lap."
He left, but my guard was still up, knowing he had not given up. He walked behind the couch and snatched one with topping from the bowl when he passed me.
He was fast, but I got his wrist before he took it away. I ate it from his hand and licked the left over whipped cream on his finger tips.
"Thanks," I said, as if he was going to feed me since the start. I took another one from the bowl at the same pace, but I delayed when I accidentally got some whipped cream on the back of my hand.
He leaned over the couch and took my wrist. He licked the back of my hand and devoured the perfect strawberry I had my eyes on. I was pissed, but then he said, "Hmm, you taste good."
"You-you can't say that! Can you even hear yourself?" I pulled my hand away.
"Wha-what did I say wrong? Why are you... blushing?"
"Oh, my God!" I looked at his innocent face and wondered if I misheard, "What did you think you say, before you asked the questions?"
"Err... Something along the line of 'It's good'? I think, I remembered saying 'taste', so 'It tastes good'?"
"What's with all the questions in your voice?!"
"I don't know, I'm not sure what I said either. Did I say something bad?"
I vigorously nodded.
"I think, I remembered saying something very weird on the first day we met, too. Anyway, don't mind me, I was sleep-talking."
Note to self: give him coffee before talking to him.
"Forget it. Here, take some, and stay awake. I don't want another heart attack," I shared the strawberries with him.
"Oh, thanks!" he uttered and took a seat next to me.
The light from the T.V. was enough for me to notice the dark circles under his eyes in the dark room, so I questioned, "When's the last time you slept?"
"One, or two days. Maybe three. I don't know. Maybe a week. Who keeps track of that?" he answered nonchalantly.
I sighed and followed up, "Hard case?"
"No."
"Do you want to talk it out?"
"No."
"Okay... Want to watch a movie, or you're hurried to work?"
"Sure, I've got another five hours to spare. What are you watching?"
"I'm not sure myself, just found it on the home page. It's a RomCom, I think."
"'What dreams May Come'?"
"What was that?"
"The movie you were watching."
"Oh, I didn't really pay attention to the name. Just saw the cover, and it looked decent enough to watch."
"Looks old, but seems good. You wanna continue it from where you paused?"
"Nah. Just restart it. I've only seen five minutes of it."
"Okay."
By the ending of the movie, emotions were flooding out of my eyes. Flooding out, but there was no whimpering. I took a bite of the treat to swallow the feelings away, but I could not even taste the sweetness from the strawberries. Everything was sour, so I pushed the bowl off to the side.
Dammit, I had never had a habit of crying much, but it seemed to be the opposite this month. I did not even like crying in front of people, too, but why was it so easy to cry in front of him?
"Alright, I know I should not be emotional because it's just a movie, but may I borrow your shoulder?" I asked, but I did not wait for the answer, before leaning on him.
"Seriously, at least, you should get the genre right. Where's the bloody RomCom?"
"I told you, I was not paying attention! And... I really didn't expect such a nicely made love story."
He sighed and gave me a pat on the head.
"I don't think, I'll ever have such a loving relationship like them. He even searched for her from heaven to hell," I pitied myself.
"Hmm... I don't think, you will either," he did not help.
I gasped at his answer. "No, Jason! You're not supposed to say that. You're supposed to be comforting me and say yes, I will find someone."
"Err, let me think, no. You're too far off of reality. I'm just pulling you back, and I'm not saying that. This is an act of a great friend."
I sighed, "What was I expecting from you? You don't seem to believe in the concept of love itself."
I nudged a little away from him, wiping my tears away, and changed to some random show. It was boring, and soon, I started scrolling down my phone on Pinterest. It was a normal application that things did not go as well as shown in the picture most of the time. Although, it was quite entertaining to see all the art work, I could never draw.
Speaking of it, I found a cute comic strip with two character sitting on a couch. The other character fell asleep on the character's shoulder. That character started sliding down to the character's laps, and they looked totally adorable.
Until Jason had his head on my shoulder, the comic strip got a lot less adorable.
"Stay, alright," I murmured, reaching out to get him some pillow, but whatever, he did not seem to care what I thought.
He slowly glided down to my lap, while I quickly scrolled down the strip to see what I could do next. However, that was the end of it.
I looked down at him, resting on his side on my lap. Maybe, it was not that bad. He was tired, and I learned from him that he did not sleep for days. Well, now for once, he seemed at peace, and I kind of wanted him to remain that way.
I turned off the T.V., so the sound would not disturb him. Then, suddenly, there was a group of police cars passing by the apartment. There was no alarm on rogues, so it was probably something moderate. Although, he started stirring when the noise approached closer, so I decided to cover his opened ear. If his job had anything related to it, he had to leave in two hours anyway. He could catch up later.
After they passed, I retreated my hand and he tensed up like a child. He was at the virtue of waking up to my sudden action, but I put him back to sleep with slow, comforting strokes on his back. He was cute when he was all relaxed, and he seemed to be more at ease once I grounded him and his arm coiled around me.
I woke up, feeling awfully weighted like I almost could not breath. I opened my eyes to Jason on top of me. Well, that explained a lot about the weight...
Oh, shit! I had to wake him up last night, and I fell asleep myself!
I looked down at him: his face was nuzzled between my cleavage while my arms around his neck and his arms around my bare waist.
My, God, what a position we were in! We were not even dating!
But, I let it slide because I thought he was sleeping, and there was something more fishy. I heard the tabby cat meowing, which rarely happened because it was in the other room. How did it come out?
I turned my head around to see what I could and saw a teenage boy, sitting on the floor with the cat.
The boy looked very familiar like I might have seen him on some newsletters. He had dark, olive skin, which contrasted very well with his turquoise eyes. His hair was jet black just like his turtle-neck sweater and pant which resembled a casual wear of a business man. He was probably a son of one, but there was one thing I could not get over with, he had the most arrogant eyes I had ever seen!
"TT! Todd, the woman is awake. Get off her!" he snapped.
I ignored it and questioned him calmly, "How did you come in?"
"The door was open," he flat out lied.
"No, it was not."
"The window was open."
"Oh, fine... That somehow sounded more reasonable," I sighed, "No one seems to be normal here anyway... You want to talk to him? I don't think he's awake."
"He is since I stepped inside the house," the boy said confidently.
"How long have you been here?"
"Two hours," he answered and gave his attention to the tabby cat, "The cat is starving. Where is her food?"
"I don't know. I think it's in his room."
He soon found the food and returned, feeding the cat.
"So who are you?" I asked.
"Damian Wayne."
"I'm Andrea Albertsons. Nice to meet you, Damian."
"Are you one of Todd's?"
"No, I'm just a roommate. We're friends. Is it something urgent that you want to talk to him? You could leave a message with me, if you have to go somewhere."
"I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying here for a while," he replied.
"Hell, no, Demon Brat!" Jason suddenly exclaimed, pushing himself up against the couch.
"So you were awake this whole time," I paused a second until he looked at me. "You bastard!" I punched him, leaving a strip of scratch on his cheek bone. I got off the couch, massaging my wrist, and turned my back to him. "I was being a really really nice friend, letting you sleep on me. I can't believe you were taking advantage of my kindness to touch my bare skin! At least, ask me out on a date, so you earn it, Jerk!"
"I was sleeping!" he defended himself.
"Until last two hours ago, is it not?! This boy here is much more of a gentleman than you are, right now."
He did not oppose anything which meant it was true, or was he just in irk of me comparing them together. It did not matter...
"Damian, if you want to talk about anything, I'm all ears," I talked to the boy who was about an inch, or two, taller than me. "And, if he uses me as an excuse of not having you, then tell him I'm fine with it."
"Thank you," he nodded and smugged at Jason.
"It's not a problem. Please stay as your heart's content," I place my hand on his upper arm as an affirmation, but he flinched. Then, there was blood on my hand when I pulled back. "Oh, my God! You're hurt! What happened?"
Jason was quickly alerted from it. He took the boy from me and placed him on the stool. I went to the bathroom for one of the dozen sealed first aid kit, I found accidentally before. When I returned with it, Jason got the sweater off Damian, reveling a three inches cut that had been treated once, but some stitches were torn apart.
"What happened?" he questioned, stitching the boy back with gloves and the appropriate equipments. The boy seemed to be familiar with the pain which tickled my curiosity, but I held myself back.
"They're back."
"Who?"
"The Court. I got this yesterday when I unintentionally encountered them. Now, Father prohibited me from leaving the Manor," he said bitterly.
"Heh, you're grounded," he summarized the boy's extensive wording. "Anyway, why are you here, giving away my location?"
"TT, I figured, you'd ask. I'm looking for a partner because I am not the idiot who goes on a mission alone, without telling anyone, and gets himself killed."
"Seems legit to you, too, Brat."
"TT," he clicked his tongue again like it was a habit.
Then, I remembered Jason doing it as well. Putting two-to-two together, it made sense that the boy was the Brat he mentioned a while ago.
"Now, tell me why, I should help you after what you said."
"It's going to piss Father off very much to see my presence at the party."
"Have I not piss him enough?"
"No, not recently. He haven't mentioned you for a while, now."
"Well then, it's time for a comeback," he settled, finishing up the stitches, and gave the boy a fist-bump. They had the same smirk on their faces, as if they were brought up by the same person.
And, that did not look so good for whoever they were planning to get back at, but it was their family affair that I did not want to concern myself with. Additionally, since I was no longer needed to help with the wound sealed, there was no need for a third-wheel.
I decided to exclude myself from the problem and left the house for a run. I pushed all the inquiries to the back of my head and tried my best to forget it since there was no other choice.
I gave them an hour and more time while I changed into my casual clothes: a light-pink, split-sleeves top, and a sport, neon-blue shorts with white edges, welcoming the warm, but-still-cloudy season. A moment later, someone knocked on my bedroom's door. It was Jason.
"Hey, I'm going out to get some treat with the Demon Spawn. Do you want to come with us?" He paused considerately, "Are you still mad?"
What was I mad about? Oh, right, about this morning! Well, I was wrong too for not waking him up.
"A little," I told him, crossing my arms.
"I'll buy you a cone of ice-cream as an apology."
I gave him a grumpy look, "I'm not a kid, Jason." Then, I changed my expression with a smile and continued, "But, I'm in the mood for ice-cream."
"TT," we heard from afar, the annoyance.
"Cool! Let's go, then," Jason concluded with a smile.
We walked straight along the road as the sun starting to set. It was such a calm day compared to the other, but probably nothing was going to be certain after the sun disappeared as always.
"So, what happened to your work yesterday? I'm sorry, I didn't wake you up," I apologized, while we slowed down behind the boy.
"It's fine. It can't be helped, you fell asleep, and I woke up just in time anyway."
"... Then... how-"
"Oh! There's the trolley! What do you want?" he quickly shifted the subject. "Let me guess."
"Mm."
"Strawberry."
I nodded.
"Hell, yeah! I guarantee, this place is a lot better than the quart we had last time."
"Last time?"
"Yeah, last time... Wait, no. We've never had any together before," he corrected himself and handed a cone to me.
It was packed more punch than the one I bought from the convenient store, so he was right in a way. "Yeah, it's better than last time," I teased, thinking that he probably messed me up with someone else.
He shook it off and got some for himself and the boy. Then, the boy started biting on the ice-cream, and I shivered for him.
Although, Jason was more verbal than I was, "What the fuck? That's disgusting!"
"Shut up, Todd!" the boy crowed.
The name he used for Jason was almost strange to me, and to think that they seemed to be part of the same family, it was stranger. At last, curiosity got the best of me.
"So... are you guys like... related?" I puzzled.
"He's adopted," the boy answered immediately.
"His dad didn't know he's alive until the last six years."
"And you said, you're a Wayne... like Bruce Wayne?" I questioned the boy.
"Indeed, that's my father."
"That's mean you're the billionaire's adopted son!" I turned to Jason. "Wait, are you the one that suddenly disappeared, then reappeared, and disappeared again?! That Jason Todd?!"
"Yeah, so what?" he shrugged, "Suddenly, wanna marry me?"
"Oh, please, not even when hell freezes!"
"Yeah, 'bout that, it's actually frozen."
"Anyway, you know what I mean... No wonder, how you can afford all those things: the apartment and the motorcycles. But, what happened to your Gala life? Why are you even here?"
"First, I bought the place and everything you've seen. Not him. Not even a single penny. Second, it's all started with a crowbar and some explosions. Then, some magic and poisons and more explosions. And some more magic, science, aliens, and pixie dusts, and we're here."
I looked at him with my eyes narrowed in disbelief. The first part was not impossible, but the second? I discard it right when he began since it was probably another one of his scam. So, I decided to just move on from the question to something that might concern me, "You're not going back, right?"
"Nah, I'm cool out here. I don't have to worry about all those 'codes', 'rules', and all those good things Old Man comes up with."
"And, now, there's another one who got fed up with those rules?" I glanced at the boy.
"No, it's my honor to obey Father's rules dearly."
Wow, that was one poetic child, and he seemed to be sincere about it. I was really not expecting that, considering all the ways he could have been raised poorly, and I smiled at the pleasant unpredictable, "You're a good kid, your father must be proud of you."
"Excuse me!" Jason opposed, while the boy took my compliment gratefully.
My upbeat mood dropped to the ground with his tone of rivalry, and I did not like that. "Come on, it's not like you want that compliment. Let the boy have it."
He mumbled under his breath and faded away quietly.
We returned home, and it was certain that the boy was staying with Jason for the night at least. We parted ways to our own space, and I was thrilled, remembering about the game tomorrow after seeing the flyer on my table.
I got on an Uber. The driver dropped me off at the arena after the twenty-minute ride. It was not that far away, just Gotham's traffic jam.
The newly opened place did not look that bad as eight, stacked, orange shipping-containers, just horrendous as an entrance building. Anyhow, the large, fancy field that was full of obstacles made up for it.
I signed up for the game, and I was the fifth player of the twenty. They let me chose one equipment for free, and I chose the TIPX. I was not sure if it works that well, or not, but it looked a pistol which I was comfortable with and I was the cheap-ass that did not want to spend more money on an upgrade for the game. Although I had to pay for the magazines, it was not that expensive.
Upon entering the field, they lent me the vest gloves, and helmet. Like I mentioned before, it was spacious and well-designed unlike the shipping-containers. It had multiple barrages scattered across the ground within the barricade. There was also a watching box and a large screen mounted to the building, showing the score and number of players remaining. The rules were on a repeated slideshow on the screen as well, and they were the usual: no shooting in the head, or blind fire, and etc.
While waiting for the other players to arrive, I got to have some friendly conversations with my opponents. Many of them played paintball regularly, and one of them was obsessed. I doubt I would win, but I was just there for fun after all.
Soon, there was a long line staking up behind the door, but only fifteen of them were accepted. They all looked familiar to their equipments, including the last player who was shockingly Jason.
"Aww, man! I'm not going to win this game. He even paid more for the semi-auto rifle," I mumbled.
"Oh, why are you here?" he started.
"Three," I heard it from the speaker, but I did not pay them much attention.
"No, why are you here? Where is Damian?" I countered.
"You dropped the flyer. Damian is up there."
"Two!" Another loud noise was made as I looked up at the seat in the box. Damian was really there. Good lord, the billionaire boy had not been lost.
"One!" the announcer warned.
"Do you know why they're counting down?" I asked him, looking around to see no one but us in the middle of the field.
"It's probably... Duck!" he exclaimed when I heard a 'Go!'.
Shit, the game started.
Most of them were aiming at us in the middle of the field. Our guns were loaded fortunately, and we were able to dodge the pellets by hiding behind the tanks with that duck.
Then, he got six of them behind the prompt wall in split seconds, while I got three out from the other side. By that time, I had to replace the empty magazine with another one.
"A hitman?" I dabbled around his job when I had the chance to.
Meanwhile I waited for his answer, I aimed for three more, got them, but it took a couple shots. The aiming really did help me with the game, but the feeling was not exactly the same.
"Sort of, but not really," he answered, taking three more down and giving us a way out of the fire range.
We split away from each other, hoping that the other got shot, so we did not have to take each other down. I caught another one off guard and heard two more shots made from across the stadium. I checked board and found three players left. I really wished one of us was not him.
Suddenly, there shadow was over casting me. I swiftly pointed the gun at their chest. Why would they even come in this close?
"So there's two of us and a random guy?" he stated, backing away.
"Oh, dammit!" I snarled, without lowering the gun.
"Ain't backing down, ain't ya?" he commented, having his rifle at my chest.
I shook my head.
"Well, any last words?"
"Heh, no, but you'll need it, Jason."
"Oh, yeah, I'll need it... Or, not. Love you 'till death do us part, Andrea," he friendly flirted, "but I'm winning this game. I got a bet that needs to be fulfilled."
"Well, I love you, too, Jason, but whatever you need to fulfill, I'm just saying, I'm letting you win today," I friendly replied, shooting the last player behind him, and emptied all my mag. "I guess, this will be the time you shoot me... just don't get it all over my clothes."
"You can just give up, y'know, so I don't have to waste the ammo."
"What's the fun, if I'm going to leave this place empty-handed anyway? Just shoot me."
"If you insisted, I'll make it quick. In three?"
I nodded.
Then, he said, "Three," and shot me without any other warning counts.
"What the hell, Jason! You didn't even say 'On-"
A loud 'beep' cut me off with an announcement about his victory.
I rolled my eyes and left the field to return the pistol and all the other equipment at the front desk. My chest felt a little tingly from the close-range shot, but I knew part of it was because I was competitive and felt a little irked for losing. However, I was an adult, I knew not to have tantrums for no good reason and I would not. I made the decision when I shot the person behind him.
I waited for him to finish the photoshoot and collect the rewards. I doubt, he would come back with the membership though. I approached him, telling myself that I was just there for fun and not the competition, and smiled with a light touch on his shoulder.
"Oh, there you are! Where you've been?"
"Returning the stuff. Were you looking for me?"
"Yeah! C'mon, Roomie," he invited with a hand gesture. "We're taking photos together."
"What? Why?"
"The real question is why not? They're printing us one anyway," he pulled me into the backdrop.
And, I went along with it.
"So how should we do this? Serious?"
"Professional."
"Alright!" He brought out the trophy and turned to the cameraman, telling them, "Guys, get ready for this shot." He got down on one knee and held the trophy as if it was a ring.
I had to turn away overwhelmingly in laughter, realizing what he did. "Oh, my God!"
He wheezed, holding himself with a hand on his chest.
"What the fuck, Jason!" I giggled, resting my hand on his shoulder to support myself.
"I know, right!" he laughed too, putting the trophy down.
"Pro-pose?!"
"Imma genius!"
"Are you shitting with me?! You're such a dork! I love you so much!"
Suddenly, it was quite. He was astounded, but I had no idea why.
"Is something wrong?"
He shook out of it and answered, "Umm, no." He stood up with a rub on his nose and his ears redden.
"Really? I don't read people a lot, but you're kind of obvious when you lie."
"Yeah?" he fast walked in front of me to the cashier.
"Mm-hmm," I sounded with an apology. I did not know he would have this effect when I called him dork. Old scar, maybe?
I followed behind him and met the boy on his way out of the watching box. "Hey, Damian," I greeted.
"Hi!" he replied with a business smile. "You did well on the field."
"Oh, thanks! That's very nice of you."
"But, you could have shot him," he said displeasingly.
"Yeah, but I was down to the last bullet. It was either him, or the other guy."
He nodded; although, he did not say anything afterwards, while we were waiting for Jason to finish up whatever he was doing at the counter.
Once he was done, Jason came to me and asked, "Can I have a word with you?"
It was too serious and formal than I was comfortable with, but I nodded anyway.
He brought me outside to the far corner of the building. He took a deep breath like a surgeon who just came out of the operation room with a bad news and began, "I'm sorry-"
"I'm sorry, too. But, please go first," I lightened it up by interrupting the series of gloomy atmosphere.
"Mm-hmm, okay. I was going to say... I'm sorry, we can't be together."
"... You're asking me to leave the apartment?"
"No, no, but if you have to, then it's fine... We just can't be 'together' together. You know, 'bout my work and all, I can't do that to you. We can't be a couple!"
I listened but still was not sure where he was going with the topic, so my response was, "Of course not, we're roommates! It's mutual."
"What?"
"What?"
"What about the thing you said earlier?"
"Oh, that! I was going to apologize for calling you a dork. I didn't mean for it to be hurtful."
"No, that I don't care. I mean, after that."
"Umm... that I said I love you?"
"Yes."
"Yeah, I love you. You're like the best friend I've ever had! (The only friend I know here!) Of course, I love you!"
"Ooohhh! Now, I get it. I thought you were sad because I can't return your feelings, but it was because you thought I didn't like being called a dork."
"Hmm, I see, you don't love me like I do," I looked away, "Okay-"
"Oh, c'mon, Boo-boo, I love you, too!" he comforted, "Let's hug it out."
It was the first time we hugged, but somehow, I was having déjà vu. It was recently but with who? I could not put a face to it.
After a moment with everything cleared up, I puzzled, "So... since you're already here, can I hitch a ride home?"
"Sure," he replied.
"Thanks."
We went back into the building for the boy and the printed picture. However, he would not show me which photo he picked. It was not like I would not see it sooner, or later. We lived in the same place for God's sake! But, he was too stubborn.
When we came out of the arena, there the last two motorcycle stranded. There was two so Damian must have brought the other one, but was he not underage?
"Is it even legal for you to bike, Damian?" I wondered at last.
"I know how," he dodged the answer.
"So I let him," Jason supported.
"Wow, I've never thought of you as an easy going brother."
"He already got an overprotective one," he stated, getting on the red motorbike.
"Hmm," I stood next to the black one with the pillion seat. Ducati had one too, but it was not as comfortable. I reached my hand out and waited for the key from the boy.
"I'll drive," he said.
"No, I'll drive. You're underage."
"I drove here."
"I'm not your brother, and you don't have any license. So, no. I'm not risking my life with a fifteen-year-old, or let them risk their own."
"Sixteen," he corrected me.
"Okay, sixteen. Then, get your own license first that could let you drive in the city before driving."
He stared at me, not giving up.
"Alright, if you have a driving license with you, then show me and sure you can drive... But from what I can see, you don't even have a wallet with you," I continued with facts.
It took him a long moment to sigh in defeat before he gave me the key.
"Good boy," I smiled and patted his head, which he did not seem content.
He brushed my hand off and made an audio sound of displeased, "TT."
Still adorable for a rich kid. I took the key, put on the helmet, and started the engine after he positioned himself on the pillion.
"Are we good?" Jason quizzed, starting his engine.
I nodded, and we headed home.
We separated to our rooms once we arrived, but we came together for dinner, before he left the house with the boy. I did not ask where they were going, I figured it was their family business.
Then around a couple hours later, I prepared myself to bed. I had checked that the front door was locked and went back to the bathroom to brush my teeth. There was no one home, so I hummed a song I made until I heard a loud collapse on the floor. I finished up and peeked through the slightly opened door.
The large window-door to the balcony was opened, and my hair stood up to the coldness and the smell of oxidized iron. I pulled the gun out of its hiding place and stepped around the room with my back more toward the wall than not. I was ready to pull the trigger, if someone jump-scared me...
"Jesus, this is going to be ridiculously bloody."