Hiii hoeeeee gamers. It's been a while since I updated. Life has been a total buttcheck on a stick and I've been having a big disinterest in writing. But, a recent comment stirred me back into action! Alas! The old island is no more. For the sake of keeping things in control, the rest of the story will take place on the old island and only with characters from seasons 1-10.
The chatter of cheerful voices mixed with the warm, sticky evening; as cars, ATKs, and quadcrashers pulled into Risky Reel's drive in theater. Tonight was showing 'Wreck-It-Ralph Breaks the Internet'- a film anticipated by many. Drift was cozied up in his own ATK, complete with a snack and drink cooler and fluffy blankets. He wanted to make this night perfect for him and Maven's first "date". He'd folded down the backseat to make a little cozy nest. As he grabbed his keys from the ignition, his eyes caught on the Burger Boss keychain hanging from the rear view mirror. A flashback of Brite's laugh as she tinkled it rushed through his mind.
"Screw it," he mumbled, angrily shaking off the memory. He grabbed the keychain and threw it under his seat, out of sight.
Just then, Nog Ops walked by, accompanied by her usual Christmas party. Armed to the teeth with candy cane weapons and gingerbread ale, they glanced at Drift with disdain and disinterest before walking to their group.
"Hey assholes, say hi!" A deep, feminine voice yelled behind him. Drift turned around to see Beach Bomber sauntering over, hauling a massive sack of kettle corn. The Christmas party slinked out of sight.
"Hey," Drift said cautiously. Tall, well sculpted, and ruggedly attractive, Beach was one of the island's best snipers... and the loosest woman in town. Maybe as loose as Sun Strider, but there was some competition. There was a rumor going around she'd banged the entire football team. Or was it the flamingos club? He caught himself stealing a glance at her luscious ass and toned tanned thighs. She was experienced, sexy, confident. Something he'd never amount to in his lifetime.
"You got a date?" Beach questioned, finally noticing Drift was alone.
"Uh, yeahhhh. She's coming," Drift replied, hoping this conversation would end.
"Is she imaginary?" Beach scoffed, before heading out of earshot.
"Oh, fuck off!" He shouted after her.
By a charred up RV, he spotted Omega and Rust Lord comparing their nonexistent arm muscles while their retard friends chortled along. Teknique and Abstrakt pulled up in their paint splattered van, blasting Queen. Even Peely and Fishsticks were playing Ride the Pony, together. He felt so alone as he stared out into the sea of vehicles and people.
Where could Maven be? He thought to himself. The movie was about to start.
Drift sighed deeply. Everyone was too busy for him. He tried waving to Omega's hooligans to no avail. Teknique and Abstrakt never glanced his way. Peely and Fishstick settles to eating bananas. His stomach suddenly growled and he realized how hungry he was. He had gotten so wrapped up in the excitement of hanging out with Maven he'd forgotten to eat dinner. Reaching into the snack cooler, he pulled out a container of kimbap (sushi) rolls and munched on a few.
The film started, and Drift was so wrapped up in the plot he forgot about everything else. He loved these CGI movies brought to life through technology and imagination. He loved the contrast of the hunky Ralph and the tiny, sour-sweet Vanellope. He managed to keep himself mostly composed- he only cried one time! Soon he'd emptied the entire snack cooler into his stomach just as the credits began to roll.
As the fantasy bubble of the movie melted away, Drift was suddenly confronted by a horrifying fact. Cars began to pull away as the credits wrapped up. Friends sauntered past without a glance, a few sympathetic comments whisked themselves over with the warm breeze as some discovered his plight. He felt a punch in the stomach when he realized Maven had never even showed up.
"What the hell," he mumbled angrily. He pulled out his phone to dial her number when an unwelcome sight caught his eye by the ticketing booth. A pair of scantily clad, writhing bodies on a cherry picnic blanket. A head of light blonde hair and a second of black pigtails. Poison red crop top and a discarded Borderlands hoodie. Designer sandals, half unzipped leather boots. One he barely knew, the other wise and reserved. Or so he thought.
Drift calmly walked up to Laguna and Maven. The two looked up, their faces blushed, sweating, and guilt free- and radiating the pure aura of sex.
"You should've told me earlier," Drift said flatly, without a hint of emotion.
Maven started to say something, but stopped herself short. There was no explanation needed for the shitty thing she'd done.
Later...
Drift lazily watched the flickering stove as gaseous flames lapped up and down the sides of greased woks. Sushi Master expertly switched between pots and pans, stirring something here, flipping something there. The comforting aroma of sizzling Chinese cuisine wrapped him like a blanket. Overhead, the fluorescent lights buzzed quietly, the only sound accompanying Sushi's near silent companionship. The chef had never been one of many words, but Drift found it rather easing. He liked Lucky Landing, an underrated and underpopulated gem on the island. Golden Dragon had become a comfort restaurant to him.
Seconds later, a steaming dish was slid in front of Drift- a glistening heap of noodles, pork, and bok choy. He wolfed it down eagerly, earning a pleased nod from Sushi. The restaurant was nearly empty, save for a nonchalant couple playing cards over half finished rice bowls; and a group of sleepy looking guys awaiting their food. The two old TV's sat muted at some soap opera. The OPEN sign flickered off and on. Drift glanced at the wall mounted clock, and found it was near 11 PM. He finished his food just as Sushi was beginning to wrap up for the night. The restaurant was now all empty.
"Special customer Drift! You're out late, everything good?" Sushi questioned, wiping down the counter.
Drift shook his head. "Tough night. I got stood up," he admitted.
"Maven, huh?" Sushi chuckled.
"How did you know?" Drift demanded, clutching his chopsticks.
"Ah, word spreads fast. Especially on those new fangled smartphones you kids have. I found it quite, I dare say, amusing."
Drift bit back the urge to snap, screw you. In his cozy little restaurant cooking for friendly locals day in and out, being a couple decades older, and having a loving family; Sushi couldn't hold a candle to him.
"Well, it made me feel like shit," he retorted softly. His fingers traced the faded flower pattern of the counter.
"Well, I'd make it up with you," Sushi jokingly winked at Drift.
The latter laughed. "Thanks, but no thanks."
Suddenly, the phone rang in an adjacent room. Sushi hurried to check it, leaving Drift to mull over his half finished soda. When he returned, the blond was surprised to see him crank up a wok again.
"I thought you were closed," he observed.
"Another special customer, I make exceptions for others besides you, of course," Sushi grinned as he tossed some leftover ingredients together.
"And who are they?" Drift questioned playfully.
"Speak of the devil, they're right behind you," Sushi replied, just as the restaurant's glass doors swung open with the tinkling of the door bell.
Drift turned around, and wished he hadn't.