A/N: I've been busy. Yes, I've admitted it. School has been keeping me busy, so the next few chapters might be updated little slower than usual. Till the next holiday rolls in. :)
Chapter 10: Annabelle
"Tomorow's the day." Naomi whispers into my ear, as she walks past.
I turn around and she's already halfway down the hall, big sword swaying behind her. Looks like she just came out of the training room. Scary having to have her live down the hall from me. One night she might just burst into my room, gun pointed to my head.
Note to self, invest in dead bolt for room door.
I bump into someone abruptly, and the sound of metal clanging fills my ears.
"Hey!" A little girl, way shorter than me, with brown pigtails screams. "What do you think you're doing?" She shrieks, struggling to pick a few heavy looking swords off the floor.
I take a better look at the little girl, and it's that orphan from Orbis.
"Alice?" I gasp a little, helping her pick up a really big one.
She looks up at me with her big doe eyes and her cute face twitches into a scowl.
"May I have that sword back?" She says, avoiding my gaze.
I place the sword on the very top of her pile, and I see her knees wobble a little.
"Want some help with that?" I ask.
She thinks for a moment, considering the offer. She nods, and I grab a couple from her tiny 8 year old arms. "I'm making a delivery to uh…Room 68. A Ms Grayson, yeah?"
Ms Grayson, as in Naomi.
"Oh, you mean Naomi?" I ask. "She lives just down the hall from me, actually."
"Oh," she says, marching ahead of me.
"Wait up!" I shout after her, struggling to keep up.
She scans the room number plates quickly, her brown pigtails bobbing up and down as she goes. She stops suddenly in front of Room 68 and knocks on the door roughly.
The door opens up slowly, Naomi's head peeking out. She glances at me and at Alice, before ushering us in.
"OMG, I've never seen her room before." I whisper to Alice, and she just looks at me like I'm crazy or stupid. It's possible. But I feel excited, nevertheless.
I step into Naomi's room and the first thing that hits me is the decor. One of her walls are painted a deep crimson, the other wallpapered with black plastic bags, the third covered in a wild mixture of black felt and scraps of paper. Job requests, maybe. The last wall is actually the same cream colour my walls are, only with about a dozen swords leaning against it dangerously.
Alice seems unfazed, and hands the swords to Naomi swiftly.
"Here you go. I just finished polishing them." She says, holding her hand out. Waiting for payment, I guess.
Naomi grabs a big bundle of cash and places the wad on Alice's tiny little palm.
Alice nods, before leaving the room as fast as she came. Weird. I'll have to catch her later and ask whether she got that bike yet. Oh, and why she's here.
Naomi inspects her swords carefully, in case I might have scratched it or something.
"You're still here?" She glares at me.
I nod, and look around without her permission. Her room is huge. Her bed, king sized, is placed in the corner of her room, covered with a huge white blanket and a tasteful scattering of red heart shaped pillows.
"Hey, what's this?" I ask, picking up a rag doll that looks suspiciously like Train off the floor.
"Don't touch that!" Naomi shrieks, snatching it away quickly. "It's n-nothing. Don't touch anything." She warns me, hugging the doll tightly to herself.
She's got it bad.
"Whatever," I roll my eyes, walking ahead into the depths of her room. "Hey, you have a kitchen?"
She nods casually, Train doll peeking out of her fist.
Her kitchen is huge. Pine wooden cabinets, giant fridge, those high-techy stovetops, expensive modern looking oven. Even a waffle iron. Does she even like waffles?
"I'm so jealous. Do you even cook?" I say, opening up her giant stainless steel fridge. Milk, candy, a box of leftover takeout and half a suspicious looking carton of coconut milk. If this was my fridge, it would be probably be filled to the brim with fruits, cooking ingredients and juice. Well, if I had my own fridge, anyway.
"Sometimes. I can make a mean curry." She grins, and I'm not sure if she's joking or not.
I peer into her cabinets, a few plates and bowls, a small but old looking pot and a load of spices. Guess she does.
"What's this door?" I ask, turning the black doorknob anyway.
"Bathroom,"
I look inside, and it's gorgeous. Floor to ceiling mirrors, giant Jacuzzi tub, walk-in shower. Her bathroom smells of her strawberry shampoo and scented candles. In the corner it's this little purple sink, next to it is a black mug with Naomi's toothbrush.
"Holy crap. Your bathroom is practically the size of my whole room combined." I walk inside. "And holy shit, your bathroom floor is heated!" I jump around the room, just to be sure. Nice and toasty.
I hear Naomi giggle behind me, and I stop dancing around.
"Did you just giggle?" I ask.
Naomi scoffs automatically. "I'll give you," she squints at her white watch. "Exactly five minutes to get out of my room." She smiles sweetly and slams the door shut behind her. Oh, well. Dancing alone by myself in her bathroom would be fun. Another time, though.
I listen closely, pressing my ear to her wooden bathroom door. I can hear Naomi shuffling around the room for a minute and a door opening and shutting. She must of left.
I peer outside nervously. I think my time limit is up. I walk casually through her room, stopping abruptly in front of her bed. Her Train doll is right there. How can I not resist?
I pick it up and it feels soft, baby yarn, maybe? It's pretty small and fits in my hand. It has big black eyes, even though he has cat like golden eyes (yes, I've noticed), floppy arms and legs. His brown hair is soft and fluffy. Feels like polyester. I t's even wearing a button up white shirt and some dress pants, little patches of fabric stitched together by hand. Ooh, and the black coat is detachable. This is awesome. Wonder where she got this from….
"Eeeh!" I hear someone squeak.
I look around quickly, my heart thumping. "Who's there?"
The room seems empty. Something rumbles from under Naomi's bed, and I reach for my claw from my backpack slowly, in case something jumps out at me.
"Meew,"
Wait, is that a cat?
I fold part of Naomi's thick blanket away, peering under her bed cautiously.
A black cat flies out, running into the kitchen quickly. Noami's cat, I guess. What was it named again? Mickey, Minnie? Don't remember. Layla told me she named her cat that just to be ironic. Her cat doesn't seem to like me very much, anyhow.
I follow the cat into the kitchen a little warily. I have the feeling Naomi won't be very happy about me staying around here, but I can't be bothered at the moment to leave.
The heels of my three-inch wedges click against Naomi's wooden floor. Just thinking about it, Naomi actually gave me these shoes for my birthday. Explains why it's red.
Naomi's cat is sitting on the floor calmly, right next to a can of kitten food and a red saucer.
"Meow,"
Oh, sure. Thanks, Naomi. Want me to feed your cat now, too?
Her cat stares up at me, it's wide, blue eyes glinting in the kitchen's fluorescent lights.
Oh, how could I not.
I rummage through Naomi's drawers, looking for a can opener. I'm sure she must have one around here. I look down at my feet, and the cat is brushing up against my ankle. I would say it's totally adorable, if it wasn't Naomi's. I slam a drawer shut and frown to myself. Well, only one thing I can use, I guess.
I open my backpack and fish out a steely. I run it under the tap, just to clean it up a bit. Heck, seems clean enough. I pick up the can of cat food and notice that its tuna flavored. There's probably a load of chemicals in this. I pierce the top with my steely gently and cut along the rim of the top and turn the food out into the saucer. It comes out as a sticky blob. Appetizing.
I glance to Naomi's cat to the miserable looking blob. Maybe I just need to like, break it up a bit. I grab a metal fork off the counter table and fluff it up a bit. Looks more like cat food now, I guess.
"Hm, probably tastes better than it looks, yeah?" I whisper softly, stroking the kitten's soft black fur as it starts digging into its Tuna Surprise.
It sniffs my short nails, painted black just for fun, (another gift from Naomi-expensive black nail lacquer) and bites onto my nail playfully. Its teeth are surprisingly sharp. "Hey, little dude." I whisper, pulling my hand away. "You're gonna chip it, you know." I smile in spite of myself.
I open up the fridge and find a carton of milk, half full, and pour myself a big glass of it and take a gulp. I glance at my feet again and Naomi's little kitten is purring against my ankles, climbing over my wedges. Little adventurer wants some milk, too?
"Sorry, kitty. Milk gives you watery poo poo." I laugh, draining my glass and putting it into the dishwasher. I glance at my watch and its way past 5 minutes. Almost half an hour, actually. That's bad.
I give the cat a little wave before closing the door gently behind me.
I walk into the dining room, pink sheet of paper in my pocket.
"Hey, Shirley." Layla smiles at me.
I can't help but smile back because she looks super adorable in her baby blue sweater with an embroidered puppy on the sleeve and faded jeans.
"Hey, thanks for saving me a seat." I nod, taking the seat opposite hers.
Layla stares at the door for a moment for a while and frowns suddenly as it opens.
"What's up?" I ask her, and she fixes a megawatt grin onto her face automatically.
"Nothing. Nothing's wrong. Everything is great." She says, glancing at the door out of the corner of her eye.
"Don't lie." I say, squeezing her hands from across the table. "Is it Naomi? Was she being a bitch to you again?"
She pulls her hands away from mine, still not averting her gaze from the door. "Nah, it's…it's not Naomi." She murmurs, winding her long and dark auburn hair around her pinky.
"You seem distracted. Hungry? They're serving burgers today, your favorite." I say, jingling her hand a little. She looks like someone just told her teddy bears were deemed illegal.
"Nah, I'm not really hungry." She turns to face me again, and she looks both worried and nervous at the same time. "Actually, I'm waiting for someone."
"Someone? Who?" I ask, turning around to look at the door. No one is coming.
Layla tugs on one of the strings of my black hoodie so I turn back to face her. "Seriously, it's nothing. It's a personal thing." She reassures me with a shaky grin.
I nod slowly. Now that I think about it, Layla has never really opened up to me about…anything. Other than that time in Orbis, but that was barely anything.
The door opens again and Layla jumps in her seat. I turn around to see who it is, who Layla is waiting for. A tall girl, at least 5ft 10, saunters in, (probably dyed) pink hair flowing behind her back. Her green eyes, rimmed with black eyeliner, looks just like Layla's. She's dressed in a tight and short pink dress (did I mention that it was tight?) with black leggings underneath. She looked like a classy hooker. But classier.
"Ohmigawd, she's here." Layla whispers, squeezing my hand from under the table.
The pink haired lady looks around uncertainly before grinning in our direction. She flips her hair and pulls her handbag over her shoulder before walking towards us. I glance at her feet and notice she's wearing nude ballet flats. Compared to my shoes, (courtesy of Naomi Grayson) hers would seem to be much more sensible.
"Hello, Layla. Layla's friend." She greets us. She plunks her bag and seats right next to Layla. Layla looks a little uneasy.
"Who are you?" I ask rudely. I couldn't really care about manners. Any girl who makes Layla upset doesn't deserve it.
Miss Classy Hooker just glares at me. "Are you serious? You don't know me?" She exclaims, like it's a total abomination that I don't.
"No, I don't." I admit. "Bite me." I sneer.
Miss Classy Hooker gasps while Layla half-smiles to herself. "You wish!" She squeaks, tossing her hair.
"This is my friend, Annabelle, Shirley." Layla says, twirling her hand round her finger again.
"Your friend?" I raise an eyebrow.
"Oh, we're been the best of friends even since, well, we were babies, practically." Annabelle grins, throwing her arm over Layla's shoulders. "Oh, and call me Ambi. Ambelle makes me feel like I'm like, thirty or something. Which I'm so totally not."
Layla shrugs her arm off and bites her lip. "Uhm, yeah."
"Okay, sure. So what do you do for a living?" I ask. I seem to ask this question to everyone.
"Well, I'm a model actually. I've done some acting work, too. Oh, and my new single is coming out soon too!" She brags, but I barely pay attention.
"Oh, cool. How did you get in here, actually?" I ask dismissively.
She gives me a big and fake-ish grin. "I'm visiting my best friend, of course! And my boyfriend, but that's not till tonight."
Boyfriend? But there's only one guy in this guild.
"Lucas?" I nearly choke on my own spit.
Layla bites her lip.
"Oh, yes! We've been dating on and off for about a year."
Holy crap. This 'lady' is getting less classier by the minute.
"Okay…" I nod slowly. "Imma go and get some food. Want some?" I ask Layla. I just want to talk to her, in private, away from the classy hooker for a minute.
"Oh, sure." Layla says shyly. I pull her arm and guide her right into the corner, the darkest one so that Ambi or whatever probably won't hear us.
"Who the freak is that?" I whisper to her, looking at Ambelle sheepishly. She's reapplying some shimmery lip gloss and gazing into a compact mirror.
"She's my bestie." Layla whispers back.
"Don't lie. Obviously you don't like her." I hit the back of her hand sharply cause she was going to chew on her nails again. Not good. "You look like you just saw a ghost."
Layla goes silent for a moment. "Okay, she's not exactly…My favorite person." She whispers, squeezing my hand.
"Obviously. Then what's up? You wanna grab a bite and ditch her?" I suggest. She seems to be going back to normal. Kind of.
She frowns and shakes her head. "We used to be the best of friends." She whispers, emphasizing on the word 'friends'. "But she just joined Scarlion. I…I don't know what to do. Should I ditch her or betray my own guild?"
I pull back my arm as if she just burned me. "You're best friends with someone from Scarlion?"
Layla looks around nervously. "Yes," she nods. "P-Please, don't tell anyone! Naomi…she…she…" She trails off into a sob.
I don't know whether I should hug her or hit her. "Naomi? What does this have to do with anything?"
"I can't tell you. But please, don't say a word about this to anyone. Not yet. Not even L-Lucas knows. And you know how much we…we're supposed to hate Scarlion, but I don't! I don't hate them! I don't know what's this rivalry has to do with anything, but…but…." She whispers, in the midst of her tears.
"I won't. I promise." I whisper, wiping her wet cheek with my thumb. "It's okay. Although, as you can imagine, I don't really like Scarlion myself." I mutter somberly.
"I know. Which is why you can't tell anyone, not even Naomi. She'll tell her aunt, I just know she would, and then I'll get kicked out!"
I nod. It's not like I talk to Naomi often. Or ever, unless needed.
"Okay, so now I just wanna hang out with her for a little while…Before we set off tomorrow, okay?" She says. Hang out?
"Okay," I hear myself say. I'm not sure why I would approve. But I just did, I can't take it back.
"Thanks so much Shirs!" She hugs me tightly, and I feel the wind being squeezed out of me.
"Thanks great. But seriously, I'm starving. Can I just grab a bite now?"
Info: This took a long time to write. I'm having a brain fart. Don't worry, next chapter will be more interesting. I'll probably have to cut down on filler chapters. All I've been doing recently is introducing characters. Spoiler: Shirley will be 'visiting' Scarlion soon! Yipee! :/
The truth is I'm quite happy I've made it to ten chapters. This is like the furthest I've ever gotten on with a writing project. Hopefully I'll be motivated to write even more and eventually finish this story! But actually I haven't really planned on how this would end, but I think I have an idea of how it probably should. Stick around, yeah?