The near-empty room around him reflected how Jaune felt inside. He felt empty. Without direction. Without purpose.
He knew the kinds of things which would be expected of him from now on. Intimidation. Violence. Against those who deserved it and those who didn't. He didn't know if he was capable of doing such things.
His conversation with Ruby the night before had done a little to ease his mind, at least. When it came to matters like protecting the innocent he knew what he had to do. He had to act as a huntsman would. A true huntsman would not hesitate to defend civilians from those who had ill intent, be they Grimm, human or faunus. The last one on the list would most likely be the kind of threat he dealt with most often. At least that's what his experience at Tukson's book store made him believe.
However the White Fang was also anything but a black and white issue. Yes, Tukson was a member of a terrorist organization. A terrorist organization responsible for the deaths of countless innocent lives. It was easy the lump their members together in one large group deserving of justice. What most people failed to consider was that each individual in the group was just that; an individual. Tukson wanted out. He had been led to believe that the White Fang was something different than what it actually was. He had made a mistake. A grave one. However now he wanted to fix that mistake.
Could Jaune really go up against an entire group and ignore that fact? What if other people there wanted to leave too? What if they were too scared to act?
He shook his head. This wasn't what life as a huntsman was supposed to be like, even if he didn't actually carry the title himself. Had he been on a team with Ruby he might have actually gone up against people like Tukson one day. He would have to act quickly and decisively. There would be no time to think about who was a real enemy and who was merely misguided. Hesitating like that could get himself or his friends killed.
Maybe it was a good thing he failed to make it into Beacon. Maybe his dream really was foolish to begin with. Maybe he should just go home.
Looking around the bare room, all he could think to himself right now was that this was home. It was either stay here, or come up with some excuse as to why he would have to go back to his own small village as a failure. Soon enough his lies would unravel. His whole family would know what he did.
A bed, a small table and a small dresser were the only furniture which adorned the room. None of the items were pretty, and the bed itself was a creaky, uncomfortable mess, but it was as good as it was going to get for him. He had no decorations. No personal items to liven the place up. There was no sense of permanence at all. If not for the dresser he would still be living out of his suitcase. It was an ideal setup for someone who was ready to bolt at a moment's notice. He was still on the fence about it all.
Tomorrow the club would be reopening. Everything downstairs was set up and ready for the return of what he had heard were large and lively crowds. It would also be his first test of being an actual bouncer rather than some sort of criminal enforcer. It sounded like it might have made for an interesting job if not for the more unsavory aspect which he had witnessed firsthand.
A small buzz interrupted his thoughts. Jaune reached over to grab the scroll which sat on the table beside him.
Melanie. Of course only she would be messaging him at this time of night. By the looks of the message she was also drunk.
Juan come to the bar. I'm bred.
It figured that she only wanted to talk to him because she was bored. Ever since the night where he drank until he passed out she had viewed him as a source of entertainment. As someone to tease and joke with for her own satisfaction. Well, two could play that game.
He typed away at his scroll's keypad to reply. You're bred? Who's the father?
Jaune wondered if she would even get the joke. She probably didn't even realize that her drunken typos had been autocorrected to completely different words than she had intended.
After nearly a minute he received his reply.
Bored. Ducking autocorrect.
A small smile slipped onto his lips for more reasons than one.
Duck.
Fuck. Fuuuuuuuuuuck!
Jaune knew how dangerous of a human being she was. He had seen it at Tukson's. However right now he could not help but be amused at just how completely and utterly she was failing at typing.
I hat this stupid scroll that doesm;t want me to say fuck!
Fuck fuck fuck.
See I can sat fuck now.
He didn't need a scroll to know about her fondness of profanity. It was so strong that she had managed to conquer the scroll's seemingly default setting of autocorrecting "fuck" to "duck".
Jaune answer meeeeeeeee!
He rolled his eyes as his hands gripped the scroll. Just what was he even supposed to say right now? He didn't know. Even growing up with seven sisters hadn't prepared him for drunk texting girls his age.
He decided to go with something totally neutral so that Melanie could lead the conversation. Hi, he typed simply.
More seconds passed by. He wondered if the girl would find that to be an acceptable reply or if she would get angry. Thankfully he didn't have to wait long to find out.
Come don here, she requested again.
He didn't really want to. It was late and he really should be getting some sleep in preparation for the big day. Of course the club wouldn't open up until sometime in the afternoon, but there were still plenty of last minute jobs that needed to be done to make everything perfect. Getting the morning off was not an option.
Maybe he could deflect the attention off of himself. Why not ask Miltia?
He hadn't had much alone time with the girl over the past few days. Not since the Tukson incident. Miltia hadn't come and seen him while he was preparing breakfast since that day. Now that he thought about it he hadn't spent any time alone with either of the twins. His only interactions with them had been as a pair and with Junior present. Other than that he spent much of his time alone. That was just one of many reasons for which he was thankful that Ruby had decided to call him.
Militia's ignoring me, Melanie responded at last.
Jaune wished that he would have thought of that a few minutes ago. He could have pretended to be sleeping. It was probably what Miltia's excuse would be in the morning. Someone like her could easily lie about wanting to be responsible and get a good night's rest before the grand reopening. It was a shame that Jaune had no good way out of this situation now.
If he didn't do as Melanie said he knew that she would pester him all night. He didn't know how much she had drank already, but he was not about to doubt her capability to continue on for another couple hours. Sure, he could simply turn off his scroll, but that brought the risk of her coming up to his room in person and banging on the door until he opened it up.
Then once she was inside there was no telling what kind of damage she could cause. She could pass out drunk on his bed leaving him with nowhere to sleep. She could puke her guts out, forcing him to clean it and live with the stench for the rest of the night.
In other words there were no good options. Much like the other situation he faced right now. Going downstairs to humor the girl for a little while was the best choice he had. With any luck she would be so far gone that only another couple of drinks would end her night.
With a plan in mind he made his way down to the bottom floor of the building. It looked like a completely different place compared to the first time he had come all those weeks ago. A clean and shiny black floor reflected the bright white and red lights on the ceiling. Glass decorations adorned the huge room. Black tables and chairs would be able to comfortably seat probably a couple hundred people. There was plenty of room for others on the dance floor. If the place's potential capacity was anything to go by then it was going to be crowded come tomorrow night.
Over in the distance he saw a beacon of white among a sea of black. Melanie sat in her favorite white and teal attire, arms resting at the bar as she looked down at the glass in front of her. Locks of jet-black hair hung loosely down, somehow miraculously avoiding falling into whatever her drink of choice was on this night.
The sound of his boots on the black tile floor eventually garnered the attention of the dangerous criminal, and she turned to look at him with an unreadable look on her face. "You're late!" she said forcefully.
Jaune hadn't known he had been on a timetable. He decided to respond with something as unreasonable as the accusation which had been leveled against him. "Sorry. Traffic," he deadpanned.
Melanie's eyes narrowed and her mouth hung open as she struggled to understand how that made sense. A moment later her eyes shut and she began to laugh. "You're so fucking dumb."
For a few seconds he stood in her vicinity, waiting until her laughter subsided. When it did he took a seat at the bar, leaving an empty stool between them.
Melanie looked down at the stool before her glassed over eyes met his. "What'sss wrong, boy toy? Afraid of me or ssomething?"
Honestly? He was. After witnessing her beating Tukson the way she had, who wouldn't be afraid of her? If it hadn't been for his intervention she likely would have beaten the man within an inch of his life. Perhaps even worse.
"No," he lied. Thankfully she appeared to be drunk enough that she wouldn't be able to detect his deceit. "Just... giving you your space."
Melanie gripped the bar with both hands and thrust herself up to her feet. Using the counter as if it was a lifeline she sidestepped until she reached the empty seat next to Jaune and plopped down atop it.
"Well ssstop!" she insisted. A moment later she reached for her errant drink and pulled it back in front of her. "I don't bite. Well... not right now at least."
Jaune didn't know why he was surprised. It seemed like whether the girl was sober or drunk she would tease him with all sorts of innuendos.
"Right," he said safely. It was best not to challenge her statements in any way which would only add fuel to the fire.
She took a sip of her drink before turning back to look at him. "Sssso... what'ss up?"
What's up? Well, he had been in his room contemplating his life and choices up until this moment. He had been locked in a deeply meaningful inner struggle about what it meant to be a huntsman. About the morality of harming others for the greater good. About what he was going to do about his future here in Vale.
Naturally he didn't tell Melanie a single thing about that.
"Nothing," he lied again. "Keeping you company?"
The answer seemed to satisfy her. Melanie smiled, placing a hand upon his shoulder while downing the rest of her drink. The smile remained on her lips after she set the glass back down. "Yeah you are," she seemed to say smugly. "Sssee? You're a good birdie." Her right hand rubbed against his shoulder and bicep. "And y-your little hurt wing is allllll better now."
Jaune had no idea what the girl was talking about. It was probably better not to ask.
"Make me a drink?" she asked as she pointed to her empty glass.
Truthfully Jaune had absolutely no idea how to make any kind of mixed drink. Outside of his one night of drinking here at the club he had pretty much no experience with alcohol. However he could give it a try. If a drunk Melanie was his test subject then maybe she wouldn't be able to recognize any disastrous concoctions he might come up with.
"You really want me of all people to make you a drink?"
Melanie nodded her head in the most unintentionally exaggerated way possible. "Mmmhmmm!"
He sighed. "I suppose there's no way of convincing you I don't know how, right?"
This time she shook her head back and forth. "Mmm mmm!"
Well this was just great. He was supposed to just be sitting there and humoring the girl while she enjoyed herself. Now he was getting roped into this whole mess. Next she would probably want him to get as wasted as she was.
In any case, he would give drink mixing a shot. "Sure..." he said uneasily as he stood up and made his way behind the bar.
There were so many bottles. Dozens. Inside them were liquids of every color of the rainbow, and many more that weren't. He had no idea what would go with what.
"Make me one of your girly fruit drinksss," Melanie said unhelpfully.
He wanted to point out that he had never actually had one of those drinks which she teased him with, but he knew that his objection would only fall upon drunk ears.
As he continued to look around he saw a laminated sheet of paper under the bar. Grabbing it he saw a list of several named drinks on it along with the compositions of each.
Maybe Melanie's demand had been helpful. One drink on the list looked like it would meet her requirements for sure.
It took what felt like an eternity with the judgmental eyes of Melanie upon him, but eventually Jaune was able to locate the ingredients for the recipe. Well, everything except for the fresh strawberries.
Grabbing a glass and setting it on the counter he set about following the brief instructions on the paper. Some ice went in first. The strawberry liqueur was to be the bottom layer of the drink. Then the orange juice. Finally it was topped off with grenadine.
He had no idea if it was supposed to look like this or if he should stir it, but the drink looked pretty. Shades of red and orange rose throughout the glass, making it look like the sunrise which gave it its namesake.
Jaune set the colorful glass down in front of Melanie, who eyed it with astonishment. "Ooh! It looks niccce," she said genuinely.
A genuine Melanie was better than a sarcastic one. Maybe she should get drunk more often.
After leaving the back of the counter Jaune returned to his seat next to Melanie, who was taking a delicate sip of his creation. When the glass left her mouth her lips audibly smacked before her tongue darted out to lick them clean of any residue.
"Fuck that'sssweet." She appeared to sound happy rather than upset by this fact.
Still, he wanted to be sure. His pride as a cook meant that he wanted people to enjoy his creations. "Is that good?"
The next sip the girl took was longer than before, which would have enough for him even without a reply. After another loud lip smack she spoke. "Mmmhmm!" she hummed cheerfully.
Jaune couldn't help but feel satisfied that he had succeeded in his first drink mixing attempt. Right now he needed all of the victories he could get.
After setting the glass down he noticed how Melanie began to sway slightly back and forth in her stool. The motion and rhythm of her head and body almost made it looks like she was listening to music that only she could hear. Maybe in her head she was indeed playing something.
"So, how many drinks have you had tonight?" he asked.
The swaying lessened as she turned to look at him. Her eyes however glanced up at the ceiling as if she was in deep thought. "Uh..." she started. "I've had... this many."
Jaune stared at her, patiently waiting for some sort of indication as to the number of drinks Melanie had had. Nothing came after her reply, however. "Usually when people say something like that they hold up their fingers to give a number."
"That's how many I've haaaaad!" she wailed as she grabbed hold of Jaune's arm again. It took him a moment to realize that she had done so in order to maintain her balance on the stool.
It was unbelievable that this was the same girl from a couple days ago. This was Melanie Malachite, the sarcastic, and quite honestly bitchy girl who had no problems whatsoever with kicking the crap out of a book store owner in order to get the information that she sought. A small and petite girl who wore blades of the heels of her boots and knew how to use them as well as any aspiring huntress might. Now she was little more than a drunken, happy teenager who thought that a strawberry sunrise looked pretty.
How was it possible that this goofy, cheerful girl was the same person who was ready to torture Tukson? How was it possible that someone so vicious could also be so affectionate? Not to mention very handsy.
Drunk Melanie seemed to be a lot friendlier than her sober counterpart. Jaune wondered if that was the real her that came out when she had no reason to hide it. When she had no inhibitions to hold her back. When she wasn't being the violent criminal that he had seen a few days ago.
"Jaune," she said, her hand maintaining a steely grip on his sleeve.
He glanced down at the hand before looking back to her eyes. "Yeah?"
"These sht- these stools don't have backs."
He nodded. "You're right. They don't."
"Why the fuck would Hei buy new stools with no backs?"
He was sure that the question made sense in her mind. It was best to humor her. "I don't know. You're right."
"Fuck right I'm right," she said proudly. A few moments later her expression was replaced with one of genuine horror. "Oh fuck me," she cursed. "I totally told you Hei's real name."
Hei...? Jaune didn't know who she was talking about. Did she mean Junior? It was the only thing that made sense if he was the one responsible for buying the new furniture. Junior was also the only person who could inspire such a reaction from the girl in white.
It didn't take long however for the girl to burst out laughing once more. "Oops," she said disingenuously. "I to- I totally told you Hei's name. Let's just keep that our little shecret 'kay?"
It sounded good to Jaune. He hoped it wasn't one of those situations where Junior would have to kill him in order to keep him quiet. The less he knew about that little information blurt the better.
"Sure," he agreed. "I didn't hear anything."
"'Kay," she said as she grabbed what was left of her strawberry sunrise. Tilting it all the way back, she couldn't help but lean back in the stool herself trying to get every last drop out of the cocktail. Apparently it was that good to a girl who clearly had experience with her liquor.
The feeling of pride quickly vanished as Melanie leaned back too far. Her arms flailed in the air for a second before Jaune reached out with one of his own and grabbed her back. He steadied her upon her seat before removing his hand from her.
"Fuck," she breathed out as she slid her empty glass across the counter. A moment later she turned to look at him with a drunken smirk. "Jaune Arc you're my heeeero," she said sarcastically.
And here they had been having such a nice conversation too. Well, as nice as was possible for a sober person to have with a drunk one. However considering this was Melanie he was speaking with he would consider it nothing less than pleasant. He didn't know why he was surprised that her attitude had reverted back to its usual self.
"Look at the little huntsman s-saving the poor damsel in distress from falling on her assh," she continued. The laughter which followed immediately after only further confused him. He didn't know whether she was mocking him or simply making a joke.
"Uh, sure?" he asked. The uncertainty in his voice was probably lost on the girl next to him.
"Bet you would have gotten like, all the pussy in Beacon with moves like that," she giggled. "'Cause you're a nice guy, right?. One look at the-" She stopped mid-sentence as a less than ladylike burp gurgled from her throat. She didn't seem to care so he didn't either as she continued. "One look at the knight in shining armor and their panties get sssoaked. Right? That what you thought would happen?"
Obviously not. Sure, it would have been nice to have some sort of love life in Beacon, but that wasn't why he had wanted to go. It would have been the cherry on top of living out his dream. However he had no such expectations.
The last thing he wanted right now was to be reminded of those lost dreams. He didn't want to be reminded of his own moral dilemma either. "Whatever," he muttered, taking a page out of Melanie's own book.
"Aww," she cooed, reaching out to grab him again. "Don't be mad, little birdie," she said confusingly once more. "I know what'll make you feel better."
The adventures of drunk Melanie were beginning to wear on his patience. Jaune briefly considered going to make her another drink in the hopes that she would finally pass out. In the end he decided against it.
"Hey," she said as she poked him in the arm. "Did you know that if you s-say my initialsss out loud you go 'mmmm'?"
He did not, in fact. He had never been drunk enough to even consider such a thing.
"Come on, Jaune," she continued. "Say 'mmmm', Jaune."
"Is this what's supposed to make me feel better?"
"Just do it. Come on. Mmmm!"
She likely wouldn't stop until he complied. Jaune pressed his lips together and gave the girl what she wanted. "Mmmm," he hummed.
Melanie laughed. "Okay. Okay. Now," she said excitedly. "You know who thinksss you're mmmm?"
"Who?"
"Mmmmmiltia!" she exclaimed proudly.
All of that buildup for a stupid joke? Jaune wasn't sure why he was surprised. The girl next to him had barely made sense since he had joined her at the bar. Why start now?
Melanie started to laugh once more, stopping only to catch her breath to speak once more. "Yup. That'sss totes what Miltia thinks about you. But don't tell her I told you 'kay?"
Jaune's heart skipped a beat. He turned to eye the girl suspiciously, and as he stared into her face he could find no trade of deceit. Only drunken enthusiasm.
Was she serious then? Or was she merely messing with him as she always did? There was no guarantee that she was telling the truth even if he couldn't detect any lies in her words. He was far from an expert in reading people. He couldn't discount her statement. He couldn't trust it either.
Melanie's credibility took a hit when specks of saliva sprayed from her mouth as she tried to keep herself from laughing. She failed miserably. "Oh my gods, you should've... you should've seen the look on your face just now," she said with a finger leveled at him. "Your eyes. They look like your shirt. Poor s-scared little bunny."
"How do you know this anyway?" he asked, ignoring the outburst. "About Miltia?"
"'Cause we're twinssss!"
The answer did nothing to satisfy his question. However he was sure that it made sense in Melanie's mind. That settled it. As far as he was concerned she was as unreliable a source as they came.
"Right..."
"It's 'cause we're twinsss," she repeated. "She was like, totally in denial at first. Like, even I couldn't tell."
Like he was going to believe a single word that Melanie said. Especially drunk Melanie. How trustworthy could a person be who couldn't keep something like Junior's closely guarded secret name a secret?
Still, Melanie seemed oddly insistent. However there was always a built in excuse for that. She was simply screwing with him as she so often did. Even while she was drunk. The girl had been going on about how he had wanted to be a big hero and garner the attraction of the girls at Beacon. Messing with him about Miltia was probably just the next logical step in her alcohol-fuelled mind.
"S-so whatcha gonna do?" she asked.
Jaune took out his scroll and checked the time. It was late, but not too late. Still, it was around the time where he knew that he needed to get to bed in order to get a good night's sleep.
"Is sleeping an option?"
Melanie laughed. "Wooooow. Little huntsman's got some baaaalls!"
It took him a moment to realize what she was talking about. He had absolutely not meant it as sleeping with Miltia. Joking or not though, that was how she had interpreted it.
"No, I meant me going to sleep right now," he clarified. "Alone."
The girl pouted at his response. "Jaaaaaaaune! You haven't even drank anything!" she whined. "How can you abandon me when you haven't drank?"
The absolute last thing he wanted right now was a repeat of his first drunken escapade at Junior's club. Especially if he were to be alone with Melanie.
It was a good thing he didn't need to think too hard about excuses with the girl in her state of mind. "I'm saving my energy for when we open tomorrow," he explained. "That way I can get twice as drunk. Right?"
There was also a good chance that Melanie wouldn't even remember those words come morning. As far as Jaune was concerned it was a win-win situation.
Melanie moaned softly as she looked down at the counter. "Whatever. You s-suck."
Jaune couldn't help but smile at her weak insult, both in wording and delivery. It was a far cry from the scathing and sometimes hateful demeanor with which she usually spoke to him. It truly was like she was a different person at the moment.
It was an odd thing to see. Just as odd as it was to see how Miltia went from a nervous cook to a cold criminal in the span of a few hours. Both girls seemed to have different sides to them. Both were capable of vicious bouts of violence as well as charming innocence.
Was that what he had to do as well?
His father was a huntsman, but he was also a family man. He killed monsters for a living. There was a good chance he had battled against people as well. Yet the man was still a good and kind-hearted person. He still managed to find love and raise eight children. He did not live exclusively in only one of those two worlds. Maybe that's how Jaune had to look at it.
Whether he liked it or not, the White Fang was in Vale. A powerful and deadly terrorist organization was poised to inflict untold amounts of damage on the citizens of the kingdom. It was necessary and right to stop them. It's what a huntsman would do. It's what Ruby would do. It's what he would have done had he been accepted into Beacon. Maybe he still could. Maybe there was still some good he could do even without being a huntsman.
Just as both of the Malachite twins seemed to have different sides to them, Jaune found himself wanting that as well. It was the only way to ensure that all of his dreams and efforts would not be in vain. He could not be afraid to get his hands a little dirty for the greater good, just as Ruby had told him. If there were people out there who wanted to hurt the innocent, then he would have to defend them. Potentially by any means necessary.
Jaune glanced over at Melanie who sat toying with her hair with one hand, the other propping her head up and keeping it from laying down on the bar. She probably looked down on him after what had happened with Tukson. She probably thought that he was weak. That he was a half measure. That he didn't have what it took to get the job done.
He was determined to prove her wrong.
Life made sense again.
It was as if the past several weeks had all been one long, bad dream. To be fair there had been at least one of those which had actually occurred. However now, much like those real nightmares, the time spent recovering from the blonde girl's attack was finally over. Life was normal again.
Miltia allowed her senses to be assaulted from every angle as she strode through the packed club. The loud music washed over her like waves crashing against a rocky cliff. The bright lights from above moved and danced with the people who gyrated on the floor. The warmth of bodies pressed together all around her felt like a loving and familiar embrace. The stench of the people and their alcohol, as unpleasant as it was, was a welcome sensation which she hadn't thought she would miss.
All in all it was a welcome distraction from what was to come. War.
It wouldn't be long now until she and Melanie would meet back up with Tukson in order to be taken to his White Fang meeting. When that happened then shit would truly hit the fan. There would be no going back. However she realized as much as Melanie that they could not simply stand back and do nothing. Vale's underground was their turf. If they stood idly by and allowed some foreign group of fanatics to come in, intimidate all of their business partners, and take over the illicit markets, they were done for. They would lose all credibility and respect. Their names would mean nothing. Their profits would dry up. They could lose everything.
Miltia was not going to lose everything. She would never be reduced to such a weak and pathetic wreck like she had been back at Mountain Glenn. She would never need to be saved by anyone ever again. Neither would Melanie.
A look at her destination brought said sister into her vision. As expected, the girl in white was sitting at the bar more concerned with her drink than watching out for any signs of trouble in the club. While they weren't strictly bouncers, they did try to keep the troublemakers in line when they revealed themselves. Normally all it took was a few words to bring the offenders to heel. However when it took more than that she and her sister did not hold back in making an example of them.
Only once had they failed in their job.
She shook the thought from her head as she approached the bar. Along with Melanie, Junior was there as well playing the role of bartender as he sometimes liked to do. On a busy night like tonight the extra help would certainly be appreciated by the rest of his employees. Miltia almost felt a little bad at not doing more to contribute. Almost.
Her thoughts as well as her eyes drifted over to the double doors that were the place's main entrance. There was someone else who was contributing. Someone else charged with keeping the peace. She still didn't know how to feel about it all.
What Jaune had witnessed at Tukson's store had not scared him off. From what she could tell his demeanor had not changed at all. Was that a good thing? Was it bad? She didn't know. However she wasn't about to ask. Not after how he had looked at her. Not after how he had said her name. It still bothered her. She could not longer pretend to be someone she was not.
It felt as if the energy had been suddenly sapped from her as Miltia took a seat next to Melanie. If not for the fact that she had gotten drunk a couple of nights ago she would have been tempted to order a few drinks from Junior tonight. However as she had once told Jaune, one of the two sisters had to be the responsible one. And nine times out of ten that duty fell in her lap.
Thankfully Melanie was not that far gone yet if her speech was anything to go by. "I've missed this."
Miltia nodded wordlessly. She knew that her sister didn't mean the alcohol either. That was never in short supply even in the rebuilding process.
What Melanie missed was the power that came with this club. The control over who was allowed in. The feeling of superiority over the little people who frequented it. They were all insignificant little nobodies. If Miltia was being honest with herself she would admit that she missed these feelings as well.
"No more saving lien," Melanie continued. "No more living like fucking peasants. All these losers are gonna be paying our bills again."
It was a good thing the music was so loud. The club's guests probably wouldn't have taken very kindly to hearing how Melanie viewed them.
"And we're gonna get back everything that we lost. You know what that means right?"
Miltia couldn't stop herself from smirking. "Pumpkin spice?"
"Fucking pumpkin spice," Melanie agreed as she poked her sister with a finger.
She hoped that routine would return to normal. The comfort and regularity to wake up every morning to donuts and coffee always brought a smile to her face and put an extra spring in her step. Junior had stopped making the breakfast runs shortly after being attacked. He felt as if frivolously wasting lien like that would do them no favors in those uncertain times. She could certainly understand that way of thinking. However it did not make the situation any less difficult to deal with.
"I can't believe it's been so long since I've had one. I think I'm totally going through withdrawal or whatever."
Miltia hummed in agreement. While she wasn't about to be a drama queen about it like her sister, she would readily admit that she missed her favorite morning drink.
A return to their old routine would also mean that Jaune would be out of a job when it came to cooking. Would she grow to miss that as well? There was no doubt that at times a good home-cooked meal was just as good, if not better than carry out. Especially during the cold months of winter. The lattes would certainly help to warm her body when the season returned, but the donuts would be extremely lacking in comparison to the warm eggs and meats that Jaune usually prepared.
The loss of his cooking duties would also relegate Jaune to being fulltime muscle. That meant more than just the bouncer duties he was performing on this night. He was to become like herself and Melanie. An enforcer. If he decided to stick around that long, that was. A part of her doubted that he would. He had seen firsthand what they do. He had seen what was expected of him. A part of her hoped that he would swallow his pride and leave. Better to go home a liar than end up like one of Junior's men.
Another look over to the doors showed that he was busy watching over the crowd on the floor. The poor kid probably had no idea what he was even doing. Junior had told him to simply stand there and look intimidating. His posture was straight and his arms were folded across his chest. She wondered just how many people would find him intimidating with that bunny hoodie of his.
Miltia's train of thought was interrupted when her sister spoke again. "Looking at your boyfriend?"
It was the last word which had gained her full attention. "Would you just shut the fuck up about that?" she snapped.
Melanie laughed in response. This joke had grown old weeks ago, but Melanie wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer. She would continue to repeat it long after any normal and reasonable person would find it funny.
"I'm just looking out for you, baby sis," Melanie said annoyingly.
"Look out for your own love life, idiot."
Her sister's smirk grew. That was never a good thing. "Maybe I will," she said deviously. "Our little huntsman isn't exactly my type, but I think I can break him in. You wouldn't mind since he's totally not your BF, right?"
Break him in. An obvious word choice to provoke her. She wouldn't give her twin the satisfaction.
"Do what you want," Miltia said. "But I don't think he's into your type either."
"And what is my type?"
"I dunno. Crazy bitch?"
"Whatever," Melanie huffed. "He's a guy. Guys don't have a type as long as it's moving and breathing."
Miltia didn't know. She didn't have the type of experience in love that Melanie did. Then again Miltia wouldn't even call what her sister had experienced to be love. Lust, definitely. Melanie had no qualms about satisfying her itches and cravings on the rare occasion she found a suitable partner to do so. When she felt like having some genuine fun for herself rather than simply teasing a guy for her own satisfaction.
There was always one thing that remained true with all of the partners that her sister deemed worthy of her though. Melanie was the dominant one in the "relationship". It was clear who was in charge and who called the shots. Melanie was the one who was fucking them. Not the other way around. And in the end it was she who discarded her toy when she was finished.
It was a natural part of life. A natural part of being young. At least that's what the girl told her.
Would she seriously consider Jaune to be the next in her line of toys?
She didn't think Jaune would return that same consideration, truthfully. "Maybe," she shrugged. "But I think even Jaune knows he should never stick his dick in crazy."
Melanie scoffed at the wise words. "Fuck you."
A tiny smirk formed on Miltia's lips, knowing that she was getting under her twin's skin for a change. "Yeah. That's exactly what I said he wasn't gonna do to you."
"Fuck off," her sister said even harsher this time. "Don't be jelly because you're a prude bitch who can't have a little fun."
Having standards wasn't being a prude. Being able to deal with her cravings on her own wasn't either.
In any case they had gotten way off track. She knew what Melanie was doing. She was using Jaune as a tool even now to get under her skin. Miltia knew that her sister had no interest in the boy, but was just using him to try and make her jealous. Well it wouldn't work.
However thoughts of this little game quickly evaporated when she heard her sister's next words.
"Oh what the fuck is this," Melanie spat.
Miltia turned to look at her sister. Her eyes were narrowed dangerously as she looked in the direction of the doors, but Miltia could tell that her attention was not focused on the boy who stood near them.
"What?"
"Fucking cunt alert, nine o'clock," she said, motioning with her head to her left.
Miltia blinked. "It's past nine."
Melanie huffed, rolling her eyes. "To our left, idiot."
"So just say that next time."
"Not the point!" Melanie said as she pointed out into a small crowd of people. "Look. Look right over there at the bitch with the scroll out in front of her."
Miltia's eyes scanned the area. Things seemed fairly normal. Just people dancing and having fun as they always did.
"You aren't even drunk," she pointed out. "How are you seeing things already?"
"Oh for fuck's sake," the older twin breathed. "Look. Bitch with pigtails. Scroll in front of her. Look who it's pointed at."
Miltia looked again, this time seeing what her sister was talking about. There was a young woman there clad in black and white. It was easy enough to miss her with the club's color scheme. That, and she was incredibly short as well. Shorter than even Miltia herself.
Her black hair was indeed tied into pigtails. A pair of piercing green eyes looked at a scroll which was pointed directly at Jaune as he stood by the doors. It was obvious that she was taking pictures. Why though?
"Who. The fuck. Is that?" Melanie said dangerously. "And why the fuck is she trying to look like us?"
Miltia had no idea. However the fact that the girl almost looked as if she could be a triplet of herself and Melanie was not lost on her.
"Looks like someone's trying to steal your man," she added. "You think boy toy has a stalker?"
The statement would have earned Miltia's ire if it wasn't so worrying. Not the part about Miltia's own supposed interest in the boy. It simply wasn't normal for someone to be secretly taking another person's picture in public like that.
"He's not mine to steal," the younger girl insisted.
"So you don't mind that she's totally walking over to him right now?"
It had ended almost as soon as it had begun. The small girl slipped the scroll into her pocket before she began to walk off in the most casual manner possible.
Right toward Jaune.
What was she doing? While it wasn't exactly unusual for there to be creeps in attendance at the club, they usually were not women. Even if they were, they normally did not make it a point to go right over to the target of their attraction and confront them. They were usually cowards. That was why they stayed back in the shadows and took pictures.
This person was not a coward, however.
The woman in question walked with a confidence that a typical wallflower would not possess. She did not look around nervously to see if she was being watched. She did not carry the guilt of a person who felt as if they were getting away with some sort of forbidden pleasure by taking pictures of their beloved. No, this woman looked as if she was not afraid to be the center of attention.
Miltia jumped to her feet, Melanie following soon afterward. She knew her sister was itching for a fight. Miltia on the other hand had far more selfless reasons for heading where she was.
So it was to her complete surprise that the mystery woman in black and white passed Jaune by without even giving him a second glance. A moment later she was out through the double doors.
It made no sense. Unless maybe Melanie had been all wrong. The woman might not have been aiming her scroll at Jaune at all. After all, why would she want to? He was just a new bouncer. There was nothing special about him at all. In a way that was what did in fact make him special. His simple normalcy.
At this point Miltia had stopped in her tracks, but Melanie had other ideas. The elder twin passed her by, reaching back to grab her by the wrist as she did so.
"Come on," she said with a yank of Miltia's arm.
The girl in red did not resist, but still questioned the decision as she walked. "What are we even doing?"
"Getting answers, duh."
Answers from a girl who most likely was a victim of Melanie's misunderstanding. A girl who unlike Tukson had absolutely nothing to do with the White Fang. The worst case scenario was that Jaune did in fact simply have some sort of secret admirer who was too afraid to actually approach him. There was nothing wrong with that, right?
Absolutely not. There was totally nothing wrong with that.
"She's gone though," Miltia protested.
"Yeah? Well she couldn't have gone far."
Neither she nor Melanie gave Jaune a look as they passed him by and went outside themselves.
The air was warm and pleasant on this summer night. A perfect night to be out and about with friends or loved ones. It was exactly what she and Melanie had stumbled into.
The sidewalks weren't crowded, however there were a fair number of people walking in all directions. Indistinct chatter filled Miltia's ears as groups passed by around her. None of them contained the girl in black and white. She was nowhere to be seen at all. As if she had vanished into the night.
"Well shit," Melanie said as she continued to look around.
It was probably for the best that the girl didn't find her quarry. The last thing Junior needed was another fight on the same night he had reopened from the last one.
Miltia sighed, placing a hand on her twin's shoulder. "Come on. Let's just go back inside."
The other girl huffed. "Whatever."
Melanie stepped back through the front entrance. Miltia was about to do the same before taking a look around her.
She couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling that she was being watched.
Author's Note: As always I want to thank everyone for your continued support. Seeing this story grow in popularity with each update is a joy that's hard to express. It's definitely something incredibly fun to write just because of how different it is from every other RWBY idea I've written or brainstormed so far. So to see such a positive reception truly is mind-blowing. Thank you again.
Questions, comments and concerns are always appreciated.
Thanks for reading. I hoped you enjoyed it.
