Today is my birthday! So im posting this chapter early as a present for you guys. BUT that also means i go on hiatus throughout christmas break. If anything ill be back after new years. Other news, THINGS will happen, i wouldn't say someone is dying just for the sake to trick you. Im trying to plan out this story really carefully and improve my writing as i go, my goal for this story to exceed 50 chapters and 100,000 words. So ill see you after new years! Happy Holidays~!
A present was placed in front of him; a perfect cubed box that was wrapped in baby blue, a white bow hatted the top. He blinked at it, afraid to rip the contents apart for the surprise inside. Jeremie turned his head to stare at the Japanese woman hovering over him.
"Wandering into random bars isn't my thing." Yumi had her hands at her hips, her mother-like posture wearied Jeremie to thinking where he was the whole time. She looked like she had gotten off from her job as a travel agent, if anything she was still a newbie. She was stuck with piling paperwork and annoying clients on the phone from morning to dusk, and had little to no free time. Yumi looked like she hasn't gotten out of her white-collar clothes and her brushed back bun was freed to her trademark bob cut for the night. She looked exhausted.
"How did you know I was here...?" Jeremie rubbed his forehead, noticing he was developing a migraine.
Yumi took her phone out from her jacket pocket and shook it, "You suck at texting." she unlocked her phone and read, assumingly, through their conversation, "I said, 'Hey Jer, happy birthday.' You said nothing."
Jeremie's eyebrows frowned, shrugging. He didn't remember texting her, but he also doesn't remember a lot from five drink ago.
"I texted back, 'Where are you?' and you said... 'bar.'"
"Again... how?"
She stuffed her phone back into her pocket, taking the empty seat next to him, "Your location was on." Renee took notice of Yumi and tried to offer a drink to her, "Nah, can't. Driving."
Jeremie laid his head back down to the assigned spot on the bar. He was mostly embarrassed that his best friend was witnessing him drink himself to death, and resulted to hiding his inebriated face.
"I got you something." she started, nodding to the gift.
"I'll open it later."
Silence.
"Okay... Well, I can tell you've been partying." Yumi chuckled unsurely, crossing her arms on the bar.
"I had an... eventful day." he lifted his head, mumbling.
"Oh, God. Don't get me started!" Yumi swiveled the stool to face him, crossing her legs. She took her fingers to brush her hair out of her face, "I have this ridiculous client –Fuck, what was his name? Ryan something, I dunno. Anyways, He calls right before my break and request a trip for his daughter's birthday. I was like 'Okay, sure.' but he wanted to have the trip today!"
"Tragic..." Jeremie hovered his drink over his mouth. He felt his body got heavier through the night.
"Yeah, it was tragic. I told him that planning oversea trips needs at least a day's notice. He said he didn't care. I'm sitting there, right, wanting to cuss him out. Then I tell him I can't since our policy says during peak season I need to have credentials from his bank and everything."
Jeremie took a slow gulp to finish his drink, staring straight forward.
"Misty – my manager – she made me stay the whole day just to plan this rich guy's trip for this bratty kid-" Yumi took a breath, getting frustrated just explaining her day, she turned her head to Jeremie, "A bratty kid, Jeremie. Jeremie?"
"What?" he bangs his glass down on the bar, wrinkling his nose.
"He had a few good drinks. He might need some help home." Renée reminded Yumi, placing the check in between them, "His date didn't go great."
"Whoa, what?" she stared at him at the new information, "A date? Holy shit, why didn't you tell me? Is she cute?"
"No, no. I don't want to talk about it." Jeremie waved his hands near his head, signaling that he didn't want to hear it.
"What's her name? Is she a bookworm like you?" Yumi was smiling ear to ear, leaning forward to him with her hands on her face, "Is she cute?"
"Chloe." He dug into his pant pocket to retrieve his wallet, "She's... pretty."
"That's it?"
"Yeah."
"Wait, how 'bout..." Yumi stopped Jeremie from pulling out cash, and put out her own debit card, "I get this?"
He grunted, watching the bartender take her card for pay, "You didn't even look at the- stupid check."
"Well," Yumi glanced down at the check, sighing, "I guess this is another present from me."
They both departed from the bar, Jeremie grabbed the present before he forgot it and gave a sluggish adieu to Renée. Yumi remained content to keep him from falling over to her car.
"Eleven whiskeys?"
"And a sprite." Jeremie added sarcastically, slumping over the passenger's seat.
Yumi held a frown on her face, tapping her finger on the steering wheel, "You worry me."
He chuckled under his breath, fiddling with the edges of the present that seated on his lap.
Yumi kept herself quiet, keeping an eye on the time on her dashboard. 11:54pm.
She would be lying to herself if she didn't worry about Jeremie. The 'once in a while' drink became 'more than once in a day' problem. She never saw him as an alcoholic, if anything he was an innocent schoolboy to her, still have so much to learn. But that's what worried her. Maybe, he still blames himself, and he couldn't move on. Jeremie was like a brother to her, and she will treat him as such.
"Ulrich too busy for me, too?" Jeremie broke the silence from the sound of the engine whirring.
"Oh, shut up. He was upset that he couldn't see you." Yumi scoffed, "He was with Jim today."
"Jim? As in... gym teacher?" he sluggishly turned his head to her.
"Yes, gym teacher, Jeremie." she sighed, flicking the turn signal to make a right.
"How is he doing, anyways?"
"Ulrich convinced Principal Delmas to hold an official Pencak Silat club at the academy and Jim became the co-teacher with him. They only just started out."
"The academy..." he said slowly with a bit of dejection to his voice.
They sat in silence again.
"So, Chloé." Yumi broke into a cheery voice, dreading to change the subject, "Is she your girlfriend?"
"GAH, what?" Jeremie jumped in his seat, almost squeezing his gift. The question lifting his daze out of him, "No! I don't know!"
"How long have you been with her?"
"Like five months!"
"So, she IS your girlfriend!"
"Yes! Damnit –No!" he rubbed his eyes as he leaned his arm on the door rest, his face feeling flushed.
Yumi was taking pleasure in this, taking glances between the road and him as they stood at a stop light, "Did you shag her yet?" she whispered.
Jeremie stood quiet, gritting his teeth as he kept his eyes out the window. There were milestones that were made today but not anything he would love to gossip about. He could lie but he knew Yumi was a master at seeing through people's deception, so it was best to be shamefully quiet and hope she would ignore him. She didn't.
"Jeremie, no." she gasped, snickering, "No way. ALL the way?"
"God, no!" he tossed his hand up in a fuss, "We have standards in this world."
Yumi bickered with Jeremie 'til they drove up on the sidewalk to his apartment building. It was past midnight; people still roamed the streets for the weekend activities. Jeremie sat in the car for a bit longer, feeling bad for seeing Yumi for only a good hour in their busy schedules. Yumi opened her car door before she heard a chime on her phone, pulling it off of the dashboard to check it.
"Oh, it's Ulrich. He said happy birthday." she lifted her head up away from the screen to see his face. It looked terrible. He only hummed as an answer, "He said we'll all go out for some lunch, bid the time."
"Sure." he mumbled.
Yumi stuffed her phone in her pocket, watching him struggle to get out of the car, she followed suit.
"Can I help you up to your flat?" she called out before Jeremie reached the building front entrance, watching him struggle with the code pad.
"No... I got it." He entered the code three times in a row with the same condescending error tone, but Yumi had come for the rescue. She shuffled next to him.
"Here, tell me the code." she hovered her finger on the pad.
"Mm, 1-0-9...8-2..." Jeremie rubbed his eyes as he tried to remember without muscle memory, hearing the beeping of the number pad.
Yumi swung the heavy door open right after it clicked, propping it open with her foot, "You probably didn't do it right because you're missing your glasses." she pointed at his face.
"I have contacts." he groaned.
"To woo Chloé, right?" Yumi smirked as he glared at her. She gave him a hug before he let him speak again, "Please don't hesitate to call me."
Jeremie stood there, wrapping one arm around her. He would be lying if he said he didn't miss being with his friends. These days, all there was to worry about was what to have for breakfast and hoping to make it to work on time. He took his time to embrace her a little longer, feeling it could be a while before he felt this again. Something made him feel... guilty. Something that made him think that some of it could be his fault, being so insecure and antisocial.
"Are you going to make it to your door?" Yumi pulled back, not scathed by the lingering moments of the hug.
"Sure." he shuffled his feet.
"Do I need to help with your keys too?" she joked.
"Yumi-"
"Okay, okay." She chuckled, pecking a kiss on his cheek for farewell, "I'll make sure for Ulrich to give you a call tomorrow."
Jeremie felt his cheek get hot, turning away to avoid her seeing him blush. He wasn't used to that gesture yet even though it was basically from his sister. He still had a hard time with handshakes if that says anything.
Departing, Jeremie headed upstairs and after struggling with his keys to his door, he immediately beelined to his bed, slamming his body face first into his covers. Before succumbing to exhaustion, he haphazardly tossed the present onto the dresser.
It's the headache that wakes Jeremie up.
It's beating a rhythm out at the back of his skull, like someone's drumming against the back of his spine and sending shooting pain up into his head with every impact. It's that that he notices first, the initial point of reference for consciousness; the second thing is the angle he's lying at, sprawled out on his stomach with his head twisted sideways. His neck aches, his entire body hurts as if with a fever, and his arm is flung out over the edge.
When he lifts his head—a mistake that makes his headache skid into overdrive—the world spins for a moment before it settles into place and turns into his bed under him.
The memory comes in slowly, like pulling a string to unravel a sweater. Jeremie can find a starting point, the shape of Chloe's smile and repeating his name, the faint color of amusement flushing the other's cheeks as he looked up and formed his mouth around the casual intimacy of familiar syllables. And then—warmth, shivering satisfaction and Jeremie can't pull apart the logic of that but he remembers the heat of Chloe's mouth and the taste of her lips and it's at that moment that the other stirs.
What else was he forgetting?
The radio beside his bed made almost comedic timing to go off from his alarm, playing some obnoxious song to supplement his migraine more. He groaned loudly, pounding his fist on the radio but only to crash onto the ground. He rolled over on his back, listening to the radio shift to the hostess's announcer voice.
"Back on MAX 80, and if it's number one you're gonna hear it all day, baby!"
Jeremie sat up, bothered by the sunlight that leaked through his blinds. He looked over himself, noticing the yesterday's clothes still on him. Feeling disgusted, he started to undress, starting with his wrinkled button up shirt. His shoes were probably strewn in the living room, hopefully.
"Monday's forecast is in the 50s today, with a high chance of rain. Sounds like I can fix the blues and start off the day right for you morning people!"
There was pink.
Jeremie let his shirt ride off his arms, ignoring its presence on the ground. The sun warmed his skin.
"Every Breath You Take by The Police was number one on the Charts in England, Canada, and the U.S. How 'bout we make it number one here in France?"
The perky voice faded as the promising track performed, the iconic guitar rang through its speakers.
"Aelita." Jeremie said automatically, though he didn't know why he said it out loud. It was condescending, but he always knew he never forget. Whenever Jeremie wanted to move on, she was always in the back of his head, reminding him that torture during his daily task will always ensue.
He ignored the shake in his hands, his eyes slightly welling up tears. Jeremie occupied his mind with a trip to the bathroom, immediately running the cold water in the shower. The tightness grew more in his throat. Removing his pants, he jumps in to be blasted by the icy feel. It was calmer, more refreshing. Today was not the day to have another mindless anxiety attack.
Standing there for moments for the tension in his skin to repose, the water ran through his hair. He took a breath, leaning to the side of the shower to hold himself up. He didn't bother to switch to warm water until the last moments. That patronizing song kept playing muffled in the other room.
Aelita, Aelita, Aelita...
By the time Jeremie emerges from the shower, he feels significantly more human. The pain meds he downed along with the three glasses of water he drank in an attempt to push back the effects of dehydration. With cold water to rinse his hair clean and take the sticky of uncomfortable sleep off his skin, Jeremie can think without his head aching, can process the situation with what at least feels like more rationality. He towels his hair damp-dry, pulls on fresh clothes, and gives up on any further preparation before he readies himself for work.
Jeremie fixed his cuffs on his wrist, staring down at the blue box that beckoned him. Feeling somewhat guilty, he slowly reached for it on the dresser, lifting the top off. There was nothing but two pieces of paper; one that was a birthday card and one that resembled a ticket. He took them out, examining them closely.
The card had a picture of a hairy chihuahua that wore a party hat –This made Jeremie chuckle. He loves good humor where it counted– Then there was the ticket. He didn't recognize the name at first, but he ignored it to read the card.
I figured you
needed this.
–Yumi
He took a second glance at the ticket.
Admit One: Rose Angélique.