And so, as the rather large group staying at the Circus Circus—Tork, Porkchop, Monkey, Lani, Mel, Wylde, Kurt, Shirako, Karma, Taro, and Nolo—rounded the corner on their way to Dino's, it happened that they spotted a very paranoid looking young man pacing back and forth in the alley. His chestnut brown hair swayed before his pale blue eyes as he muttered to himself.
"Well, I know that," he said, indignantly. "Of course they couldn't post the fic as rated T, silly, there was too much language for a oneshot. If had been spaced out over a few chapters then maybe Arata could've gotten away with it but she and FD just get so weird when they get together. They curse and there's nudity and people break into song, as if FD and Arata aren't bad enough the two authoresses get together and the Teku and Maniacs are screwed in that cabin in the woods with the big scary robots on the way and WHY?! Why, God, why would they call Jack Spicer, Evil Boy Genius, of all people?!?"
Wylde raised a single eyebrow, leaning away slightly. Monkey laughed.
"That's just Angie," he said. "Don't worry, man, he's okay."
Angie frowned, looking very frightened, backed against the wall, and pointed at Wylde. "Look out, kid, they know what you did! God knows when, but you're doing it again!!"
The door just next to him opened, and a Japanese boy with bright purple hair peered cautiously out through the crack before the door swung open and the short boy swaggered out. He had an annoyed look on his face. "Do you have any idea how long I've been looking for you?" he said. "Grab your drumsticks and get your skinny white ass backstage. The show starts in twenty minutes, man."
Angie shrugged, disinterested, but smiled. "Tork brought new people, Jimmy! Four brand new and two barely used."
"Barely used?"
Angie nodded. "The two who ran out last week." He nodded in their direction, and Jimmy looked. He saw four people he didn't recognize, just as Angie had told him; two olive skinned guys in their twenties who looked related, a Japanese kid about his own age, and a pale red headed girl. Jimmy recognized the girl who had started the fight the previous week, making a mental note to leave her alone, but who really caught his eye was the tall Japanese man with the pony tail. His jaw dropped as he recognized the man, and his heart raced. Jimmy could not seem to form words. Angie poked his stomach.
"Jim-jimmy-jimmers? James Henry Edogawa? …Earth to Jimmy! Your body needs oxygen, Jimbo; you must breathe in order to survive…"
St. Jimmy gasped inward after a few minutes, and immediately made a very strange squeaking noise like a frightened mouse. He laughed, gasping for air, a star struck smile on his face.
"Kitano-sama!!" Jimmy cried, throwing his arms skyward, and he fell to his knees. "I am not worthy."
Taro rolled his eyes. Angie looked confused, but this expression almost constantly graced his face, and so no one took any notice. "Kitano-sama?"
"Taro Kitano!!" Jimmy said excitedly, hopping to his feet. He clutched the drummer's arm in elation, shaking him and grinning like an idiot. "He is legend in the land of the rising sun. Angie, this dude here is the Emperor God of Extreme Sports. Skiing, snowboarding, racecar driving, even old school martial arts and swordsmanship! Kitano-sama is a living legend and a walking god."
"Jimmy, my psychiatrist says hero worship can be dangerous…"
"Man, nuts to your psychiatrist!! He skied down Mount Everest! Do you have any idea what kind of physical hardship that entails?! You have to climb up the mountain first before you can ski back down again."
"Jimmy—"
"A GOD I SAY!!" Jimmy snapped, and then turned to the now very uncomfortable Taro. Was this boy perhaps the Mark David Chapman to his John Lennon? He certainly seemed unstable enough… "It is an honor and a privilege to be in the presence of greatness such as yours, Kitano-sama. Please excuse the noise I and my friend have made. I'm sure we have caused you some annoyance. I will take him inside."
Jimmy bowed deeply, a solemn expression adorning his face, and then, grabbing Angie firmly by his left ear, went back inside through the back door. The Teku and Metal Maniacs could only stand there in silence, and Taro sighed. He never could abide by his adoring fans. They made him…nervous. Taro trembled slightly as he remembered such a boy who had slipped into his apartment and photographed him while he slept. He turned to head back up the alley towards the door, and Wylde and Mel stepped aside, bowing.
"Right this way, Emperor," Wylde said with a smirk.
"That's Kitano-sama, Emperor God of Extreme Sports," Mel corrected. "Goodness, but I never knew we had royalty in our midst."
"Yeah, it's a privilege to be around greatness like his!"
Taro reeled back around, his eyes burning with the promise of retrinution, and the pair froze in their tracks. Taro only said two words to them, but his monotone voice spoke volumes.
"Shut up."
Mel giggled happily as she followed Wylde and the rest into the club; finally, it was an all ages night at Dino's, and she and Shirako were allowed to come along with everyone else.
"You're really going to love this place, Mel," Monkey said with a grin. Lexi, one of the extremely tall, but still very beautiful, bouncers at the door asked Mel for identification. She admitted readily that she was underage, and Lexi grabbed Mel's wrist and uncapping a bright blue marker, leaving an "X" on the exposed skin before doing the same to Wylde and Shirako. The blue "X" was to signify that they were under the drinking age and should not be served alcohol, while those who were of the proper age got a green "O" on the same spot. Nolo had a fake ID that was good enough to fool them, but no one ratted him out. Karma and Taro were next in line, but Lexi and her sister, Tasha, only glared down at them before calling Boots over. Seeing that both of them were offering up proper identification and wished to receive the green "O", he was knocked aghast.
"Uh-uh, no way, no how," he snarled. "After last week? HA! I think not. You two can just head right back out the door."
"Oh, come on, Boots," Tork said, pleading their case. "I know they weren't exactly…model customers—"
"Tork, I have a responsibility to my patrons!" Boots asserted. "A lot of these kids got picked on in school, and this is supposed to be their safe haven from all of that! Why ya think I employ the communist bloc here?" He pointed a thumb in the direction of Lexi and Tasha, who ignored the insult and kept marking wrists.
Tork smiled at him. "C'mon, Boots, they'll be good. We all just wanted to hang out tonight. They won't even drink." He glared at Taro and Karma, who reluctantly nodded.
"Tork, it's not just a question of behavior!" he said. "I had to clean all the booze, blood and scuff marks off of the floor, I had to replace the chairs they broke, Lexi and Tasha get bonuses for every fight they bust up, and now I don't even know if I can make payroll this week!!" He looked desperately into Tork's eyes and said "There comes a time in a man's life when he must put his foot down and say I'M LOSING TOO MUCH MONEY!!!"
After a moment, Boots smoothed his hair down and took a deep breath, closing his eyes to think. He gave a small chortle and smirked, opening his eyes. He reached behind the bar for a megaphone, receiving baffled looks from the Teku and Metal Maniacs.
"But I know how you can pay me back," he said with a sadistic smile. Boots fingered the button on the megaphone and pointed it in the direction of the crowd, jumping up on the bar. "Ladies and Gentlemen, what a lovely evening it is, and how wonderful it is to see you after all that nastiness last week. And, since you're back, we have a special treat for all you ladies out there with lonely hearts!"
Tork's eyes widened. He wouldn't dare. "Boots, come on, don't do this."
"You'd take his place?" Tork looked away and Boots went back to his emceeing. "Ladies, ladies, ladies, it is time for the Man Auction!! Six hours with a strapping young buck to do whatever you want with him, to the highest bidder! Our precious parcel will be onstage in a few moments, so check your wallets!"
Taro's eyes widened in fear and he wildly shook his head no, his hair whipping in his face. In Japan, he had barely been able to walk the streets without being accosted by fans, and he couldn't handle this kind of subjugation. That was precisely why he came to America. No one knew who he was, and almost no one cared. But if they saw him… Taro couldn't let himself be seen. He just couldn't go on display like that! "No. No, I-I-I can't! I can't go on stage, please, no!!"
"Don't make him do this, Boots. Come on, be cool now."
Boots stood his ground. "Look, like I said, Tork, if you would rather take his place, feel free to do so, but the damage has been done."
"I can't go up there!" Taro hissed frantically, hiding behind Karma, and Boots narrowed his eyes.
"Well, someone's gotta go up there, buddy-boy, and it ain't gonna be me. Lexi! Tasha!"
The giant blondes came to either side of Taro, each grabbing an arm and lifting him off his feet. Taro turned to Karma, his eyes begging, pleading for assistance. Monkey and Porkchop could only shake their heads as if to say 'what a shame,' but they would not stop the Onoprienko sisters from doing their jobs. From the shadows a little ways from the stage, Jimmy watched the ordeal, disgusted. How could Boots do this to his idol? He stepped forward, resolved.
"Wait," Jimmy said, bowing his head. "I'll go."
"Jimmy… You don't have to do this."
"Yes, I do, Tork." The diminutive youth turned to Boots, his expression unwavering. "I'll take Kitano-sama's place, Boots. Tell the girls you're selling a Saint tonight."
Tork looked into the young Jap's eyes, searching, but he knew Jimmy wouldn't back down. He smiled softly down at him, and Lexi and Tasha looked to Boots for orders. "Are you sure you want to do this, Jimmy?"
"I'm sure." Boots nodded to the girls, who released Taro, and Jimmy stepped up between them. "Are you okay, Kitano-sama?"
Taro stared at him in astonishment and relief. This kid, this purple haired fanboy whom he had shunned in the alley, was coming to his rescue. He nodded, giving the boy's shoulder a squeeze, along with a heartfelt smile. "Thank you."
From the hallway between the bathrooms and the entrance to the backstage area, Nona glared daggers at the whole lot of them. She pointed at her wrist to indicate that they didn't have much time, and Jimmy headed towards her, giving Tork and his friends a wave and a charming smile.
"I'm real sorry 'bout that, buddy," Boots said. "I know it was mostly your lady friend here who caused all that trouble, but I could never do that to a woman."
"Stay away from me," Taro said, recovering his usual cold disposition, and that was the end of the conversation. Boots shrugged, not really caring either way. He had business to take care of anyway.
"May I have your attention please, may I have your attention please, OY! SHUT UP!!" Boots cleared his throat, smoothing his hair out, and then returned the megaphone to his lips. "You would not believe what I had to go through to broker this deal we've got for you, but the important thing is that I did it, didn't I? Ladies, tonight, and tonight only, live, onstage and in your bedroom, can I get a drum roll, please?"
Confused as ever, Angie obliged, and Boots grinned. "Ladies, to the highest bidder, the Illustrious St. Jimmy Edogawa!" Almost every girl in the place went absolutely nuts, screaming, waving fistfuls of dollars, and rushing the stage. Lexi and Tasha stepped up, forming a blockade that caused the girls to step back.
"Did he just say what I think he said?" Nona hissed into Jimmy's ear.
"I was helping out a friend," Jimmy hissed back through grinding teeth, and marched onstage with a seductive smile. Nona reluctantly followed the boy out. Throwing off any sign of fear or doubt, Jimmy stepped up to his microphone and picked up Wren from her guitar stand. His smile turned to a hopeful little pout, and he fluttered his eyelashes before he began to sing.
Oh, you gonna take me home tonight
Oh, down beside that red firelight
Oh, you gonna let it all hang out
Fat bottomed girls, you make the rockin' world go round
"Shall we start the bidding at, say…fifty dollars?" Boots called, and the girls cried out to him.
"Fifty bucks!"
"Seventy-five!"
"Eighty!"
I was just a skinny lad
Never knew no good from bad
But I knew life before I left my nursery
Left alone with big fat Fannie
She was such a naughty nanny
Heap big woman you made a bad boy out of me
I've been singing with my band
'Cross the water, 'cross the land
I seen every blue eyed floozy on the way
But their beauty and their style
Went kind of smooth after a while
Take me to them naughty ladies every time
"That's one-twenty, one-twenty, now, do I hear one-thirty?"
"One-thirty!"
"One-fifty!"
"Shut your face, bitch!"
"What the heck is going on here?" Mel said, watching the slap fight that had erupted between two bidders near the stage. This Jimmy kid was good, but what was the big deal? Nolo only looked on eagerly while the fight descended into scratching and hair pulling.
"I don't know," he said, leering at the pretty Hippy girl as she tore at the Ska chick's top, "but it's kinda hot."
Tork and Porkchop nodded, smiling, all three tilted their heads to get a better look at the pair of girls near the stage as Lexi and Tasha pulled them apart, and the ska chick's top ripped free of her shoulders, clutched in the desperate Hippy's fist.
"Nice pair," Porkchop said.
"Real nice," Nolo agreed.
Oh, won't you take me home tonight?
Oh, down beside your red firelight
Oh, and you give it all you got
Fat bottomed girls, you make the rockin' world go round
Fat bottomed girls, you make the rockin' world go round
In the meantime between the beginning of the first set and Taro's near stage experience, Whitey had seated them far back from the stage in anticipation of the night's events. The Wylde brothers shared a booth with each of their significant others, watching the show, but Mel could only shake her head.
"I don't get it," she said. "I mean, they play really hot, but he's nothing special to look at."
"Nothing special," Kurt lied. Actually, he thought Jimmy was pretty cute, but Shirako didn't need to hear that. "They play okay, I guess."
"Not my thing, dude," Shirako said. "Not mine, but not bad."
"Two hundred!"
Hey listen here!
Now I got mortgages on homes
I got stiffness in my bones
Ain't no beauty queens in this locality
Oh, but I still get my pleasure
Still got my greatest treasure
Heaping woman, you gonna make a big man of me
Now get this!
Oh, you gonna take me home tonight
"Please?" he said sweetly.
Oh, down beside that red firelight
Oh, you gonna let it all hang out
Fat bottomed girls you make the rockin' world go round
Fat bottomed girls you make the rockin' world go round
"Get on your bikes and ride!" Jimmy called, descending into a guitar solo. It was at this moment that the feeling finally dawned on Mel, a chill running down her spine. His string work was like therapy, each note melting away some secret fear she didn't know she had. She felt very content for absolutely no reason she could think of, except for the music. Mel wrapped her hands around Markie's muscular arm and leaned on him, snuggling into his chest.
Kurt and Shirako tilted their heads to the sides with cute little smirks. "Awwww," they said together.
Kurt went one step further. "That is so adorable!" he said. Whitey came by with their drinks, smirking.
"Most everyone who hears the band reacts like that," he said. "To hear Jimmy play is to have a religious experience. That's why they call him Saint Jimmy." Still the auction continued, Jimmy now egging the girls on from under the spotlight.
"Two-eighty-five!"
"Aww, yeah!"
"Two-ninety!!"
"Ride 'em, cowboy!"
Oozing charm, he had them in a frenzy on the dance floor, all the while unaware of how Nona longed to strangle him in that moment. What did he think he was doing? How could he tear her heart apart like this? Jimmy knew Nona wanted to be more than friends with him, but he said he was afraid it would ruin the band. She could accept that, but it still hurt so much that the little punk would flaunt his conquests in front of her like this. It just wasn't fair.
From a table near the door, a girl in a lacy black dress was huddled with two other girls, one in a sweater and beret and another in blue flannel. They had it all figured out, pooling what cash they had: they would split the six hours between the three of them, each spending two hours alone with St. Jimmy. With a final nod of agreement, the Gothic Lolita stood on her table, waving their money.
"Five hundred and eighty-nine dollars and thirty-seven cents!!" she cried out, and Boots banged a bottle of Jack Daniels on the bar.
"Sold!! To the lovely lady in Lolita's lace!!"
Nona shook her head, ashamed to think she was even friends with this jerk. "Whore," she whispered. But still the band played on.
Jack was almost surprised by the music that greeted him from the back alleys surrounding Baker Street, the same winding road having been deserted earlier that day. For a moment he thought he'd lost his way, but he checked the street signs, and, sure enough, he was on the right track. The garish green neon sign invited him to Dino's Bar & Grille, but just the same, Jack decided to go in the back way so Vert couldn't see him coming.
Jack hung a left down the alley that led to the backstage area, expecting to get the drop on his son in the club, but what he saw there instead shocked him. Standing in the alley, leaning against a brick wall, a blonde haired, blue eyed boy decked out all in black was smoking a cigarette. At first, Jack couldn't believe what he was seeing, but he knew his eyes didn't lie, and he became enraged.
"Josef Vladimir Wheeler, what the hell do you think you're doing?!" he barked, grabbing the boy by his shirt. He sputtered and choked, fearful eyes locked on Jack's, and held onto the older man's wrists.
"Please, I don't—"
Jack slapped him hard across his face, and he yelped out in pain. "Dammit, Vert, I thought I raised you better than that! You know smoking is awful for you, your mother died of cancer for chrissakes!!" He shook the boy and he began to scream something in Russian. Jack rolled his eyes. "Vert, you know my Russian's terrible…"
"Um…I'm over here, Dad."
Jack froze, staring at the brick wall, and slowly turned around. There in jeans and a t-shirt stood a blonde haired, blue eyed boy with a clean face and absolutely no piercings. A part of him was relieved to see his son in good shape, but the rest of him panicked. He turned to the boy in his grip, then to Vert, then back to the one in black. He let go of Mikki, backing away as the color drained from his face.
"No," he said. "No, no, we buried you, and then Vert was an only shild. No, Gustav, dammit, you're supposed to be dead!!"
Jack's back was against the opposite wall now, his wide and unbelieving eyes flying back and forth between his sons. Vert reached for him, and he recoiled.
"Dude, fuck him," Mikki said, stepping on his cigarette. "He almost killed me just 'cause I was smoking."
"Well, it is really bad for you, dude."
"Oh, now, don't you start in on me, too, Vert."
"Smoking is bad, Mikki."
Jesus H. Christ, Jack thought. What the hell is going on here? The door to the backstage area opened again and an aging Cockney man came through, his disheveled hair streaked with gray from the roots.
"'Scuse me, lads," he said with an oily smile, "but I would really like to sign this band that's playin' tonight and me barrister is bored outta his skull, so can we please get this show on the fuckin' road?"
A/N: And the confusion continues to mount. I'm so happy!! I got cast in a parody of Romeo and Juliet! It takes place in modern day New York City, the Montagues and Capulets own rival clothing stores, the sword fight between Tybalt and Mercutio descends into a pie fight, and all the chorus members are named after food (Oregano, Pesto, Prosciutto, etc.). Also, there is a scene at a disco club, and since I am the sound director in additon to being an Italian tourist name Gucci (traveling with my cousin Versace), I get to pick some very Shirako-worthy tunes for Romeo and Winifred: A Tragical Comedy in Two-and-a-half Acts.