Saturday finally rolls around, and for once I find myself at a loss for what to do. I actually have time off, now that I don't have to work as much. It irks me, because I feel even more like a moocher now. But Teresa cut back my hours so I'll have weekends off, claiming it was for my health. Okay, I know I've been running myself ragged, but it's not like I have anything to do when I'm not working or in school. So I sleep in, curled up in the dark, warm, quiet shell of my borrowed room and the comfortable bed, nodding off again after I slap the alarm clock off at eight in the morning.
For once, I dream clearly.
Riku looks terrible in yellow, but that's not what strikes me the most. It's the gleam in his eyes... cunning, cocky, almost arrogant. He's a few years younger, but his body is powerful and graceful as he straightens, gripping the hilt of his wooden sword. He smirks at me before he lunges, lashing out with his weapon. I barely block it with my own, the hollow clack of wood on wood ringing in my ears. He slides away and snaps out again, and this time pain blooms in my shoulder, then my ribs. My sword swings in response as I clutch my wounded side, scoring only a few light hits between all the attacks that he blocks.
"You still don't got it." He's taunting me now, and it's so unlike Riku... but at the same time, it feels familiar. All of this feels familiar. I know if I don't take the opening his taunt provides, I'm done for. I launch myself at him, foregoing hard strikes for a flurry of short, sharp blows that I stab at his legs. He yelps when I manage a few strikes at his knees, leaving him tumbling backwards into the sand and sea grasses. I fly in for the kill, both feet leaving the ground as I go for a jumping hit, but I'm not the only one with the idea for a jumping attack. The last thing I see is a blur of yellow and silver, before I feel the impact of a pair of feet slamming into my chest. I feel like I've been shot out of a cannon, tumbling through the air and going right over the edge of the island. The impact with the water knocks the breath from my lungs, my face turned up to the sun shining down through the brine and the bubbles above me. It's so bright....
I find myself on the floor next to the bed, my tank top scrunched up under my arms, my body tangled in the sheets. A little light finds its way through the vertical blinds, falling across my face in a bright slash. I throw an arm across my face, blinded. When I roll over, further wrapping myself in the sheets just to get away from the sun, I can't see anything but afterimages for several moments. Riku should be running in any second now to find out the source of the solid thump that came from my room.
... okay, no Riku. Then it hits me: when I was rolling over to go back to sleep, Riku was on his way out to do Christmas shopping. So there's no one here to see Sora the Human Burrito. Growling in irritation, I squirm and kick and wriggle until I've worked my way out of the blankets, then stand up to straighten out my rumpled clothes. One look at the clock tells me that I was asleep for a total of almost eleven hours. Taking care of a sick Riku for a few days really wore me out, though he was hardly any trouble at all. I guess it's just emotionally draining to take care of somebody when you just feel obligated.
I head into the bathroom, opting for a long, warm shower with the massager on full blast. The pulses of water pound the soreness out of my back, shoulders, and scalp, soaking my spiny hair and plastering it to me. I must look like a titless girl, with my hair hanging to my shoulders. How it ends up sticking out all over when it's this long, I'll never know. I should get it cut, but I can't afford it and I'm not asking Riku. Then again, since I'm stuck going to this party, Riku will probably make me get my hair cut so I don't look like a bum. I haven't had short hair in ages. I wonder how I'll be able to conceal the hollows of my face if I don't have any hair to hide behind.
Depressing body images aside, my stomach is making itself known again. I turn off the water and snag a towel, drying off before crossing back to my borrowed room. My hair is already starting to pop back up a little just from being towel-dried. I dress in boxers and jeans and a t-shirt that reads "I'm ugly on the inside, too." Riku will love this one. Now it's to the kitchen for lunch, since it's after noon. I make myself a ham and swiss on rye with mustard and lettuce, grab a bag of chips and a can of soda, and retreat to the living room to eat in front of the TV. I missed all of my cartoons, damn it. At least the all-cartoon channel is having a Looney Tunes marathon, giving me the opportunity to rot my brain a little with a some quality animated mayhem.
Lunch is long gone and I'm dozing off in front of the TV when Riku comes back, two big shopping bags clutched in each hand. I shake myself out of my daze and sit up, grunting a greeting before Riku even says hello. It takes me a minute to realize why his smile is a little brighter than usual. This is the only time I've ever really greeted him first. God, what a moron, to be happy over something like that. Of course, I'm not much better for indulging him, first with allowing myself to be conned into moving in, then with new wardrobe, followed by taking care of his sorry flu-ridden ass and agreeing to go to this party. Now is about the time I should be kicking myself.
"Did you eat?" Riku's voice carries down the hall as he goes into his room, probably to hide everything in the closet. "If not, you can eat before we go out, or we can grab something on the way."
"Nah, I'm fine. I got lunch already." I get out of the recliner and stretch, cracking my back as Riku returns. I notice the despairing look he gives my shirt, and I feel this weird twinge that might be something other than smug satisfaction. "You know, you could've woken me up so you didn't have to run back here."
"And let you see your presents early?" Riku smiles and wags a teasing finger at me. I roll my eyes. "Sorry, you have to wait until Christmas morning."
I can't resist. I clasp my hands in front of my chest, letting my eyes go wide and my voice go high and squeaky as I bounce on the balls of my feet. "Aw, but I wanna see them now, Mommy!" Somebody shoot me, please.
Riku gapes at me for a second before bursting into laughter. I settle back onto my feet, watching him crack up so hard that tears run down his cheeks. Thankfully, he's doubled over, arms wrapped around his stomach, so he misses the way one corner of my mouth pulls back further than one of my rare smirks. I quickly get it under control, a little worried about my lapse. What is wrong with me? I did that without even thinking. Even the little kid act felt so natural. I must finally be snapping. I force a neutral face as Riku hoots a little, wiping his eyes on his sleeve as he straightens.
"You're a bit off your chump, there!"
"... excuse me?" There goes the Brit in him again.
"Sorry." He grins at me. "Not quite sane, are we?"
"Never claimed to be. Alright, let's go stuff me in a penguin suit. Hell, there should be enough room in there for you, too."
Riku blushes. I give myself a mental kick. That did not sound good at all.
The quest for formalwear is even worse than our trip to Calvin Klein. The moment we walk into the store, a flock of oily salesmen descend upon us, fawning over Riku until his smile turns forced. He nods politely, making a grand gesture that's completely out of character for him, just to get us both some air. The horde backs off, practically bowing.
"Mr. Albrecht and I are going to represent my father at his banquet, and we must have suitable attire. Only the best for us, of course."
"Of course, Mr. Whitebridge," one of the salesmen purrs. "As always, we'll ensure you're nothing less than perfect." He gestures us toward the back, the rest of the suited men following us like Secret Service.
"There's one small matter I wish to address, though. I insist that Mr. Albrecht and I match, at least in style. Accent color is flexible, of course."
I almost stop dead in my tracks. We have to match? Why does that feel somewhat creepy to me, like I'm just Riku's shadow? I fire a shocked look at Riku, but it's too late. Half of the pack is dragging me away to be measured and evaluated. Riku takes his measurements all in stride, giving me a comforting look over the shoulders of the men around him. It does nothing for me. Whenever one of my tailors meets my eyes, giving me the slightly disgusted look I've come to expect from the upper classes, I haze out of reality. I hope I have a seizure and fall onto the guy measuring my inseams. It doesn't get any better when they bring out the tuxes, vests, and shirts; Riku must've picked out styles earlier. I'm practically dressed by them, like a child, so they can tailor the clothes. I refuse to look at myself in the mirror, but I glance over at Riku.
He looks stunning.
The tux is a very modern style, with a Mandarin collar. The white shirt also has a similar collar, and his vest has a subtle shimmery pattern woven into the platinum fabric. From when they brought the clothes out, I can tell that what I'm wearing is identical save for the vest, which is a deep burgundy. At least it's mostly dark colors, which will make it easier to blend into the crowd. I'm grateful for the speed of the tailors, who allow me to undress and put on my own clothes so they can do the alterations. The only tux they had close to my size range was still far too big for my bony frame.
"These should be done for you tonight, Mr. Whitebridge." The head tailor doesn't look at all put off by the rush job, since he'll probably get overpaid for it bigtime. Riku, however, does look irritated with himself for getting sick at such a bad time.
"It's quite alright. I appreciate your patience, this week has been very hectic."
"Oh, it's no trouble. Have a splendid day, and we'll see you later this evening." The tailor even offers me some of his too-bright smile. What a brown-noser. I smile back, more a baring of teeth that makes my face look even more sunken. Bingo. The guy's smile falters as we turn to go.
The moment we're out the door, I turn to Riku. "What's with the matching, anyway? Am I your doll now?"
Riku shakes his head. "If we match, it will make a statement."
"What? 'Rich boy's little plaything?'"
He frowns at that. "No. This way, it will be obvious that we're together."
"What??"
"Not like that!" Riku's cheeks color ever so slightly at that. "I mean, no one will bother you if they know you're my guest. Even if we get... separated... at the party."
"If you leave me alone with those corporate sharks...."
"You'll have to follow me around, then. I have no choice, I have to mingle with the clients and investors." Riku looks mildly disgusted at the idea. "I had to do it last year, and apparently I made such a good impression, my father expects it every year now."
"You look like you hate it." My voice is softer than I intended it to be.
"I do."
"But you were born into this life. You'd think you'd be used to it by now." I kick a stray soda can, watching it skitter across the sidewalk, coming to a stop against a trash bin. We keep walking in silence for a few minutes, listening to the wet crunch of dirty slush under our feet. This snow feels like it will never melt, more falling every couple of days to replace what's been reduced to water under boots or tires. I cringe inside; something about this feels wrong, even moreso than the wrong feeling I have about life in general. Maybe it's the next ice age.
Riku sighs, startling me out of my thoughts. "Every day, I'm reminded of what my father's money has done to him. He was born into wealth, taught from day one that the world was his if he just grabbed it. He tried to grab Mum, too, but she wasn't having any of it. He tried for years, and I think because she held out... she didn't fall for his money or his false charms... he changed his tactics." He blinks quickly, though whether against the biting wind or tears stinging his eyes I couldn't be sure. His accent is thicker now, the words sounding much more British. "He actually courted her, and he meant it. She told me when I was little that Dad was a romantic at heart, and that's why she married him. He finally got what he really wanted, and all it took was honest kindness and compassion."
I squirm inside at all this open admission, avoiding Riku's face by focusing on the slushy sidewalk and the crowd around us. Riku doesn't even seem to care that we're surrounded by shoppers and tourists. I don't know if I really want to hear this. I'm not equipped to handle my own pain, much less someone else's.
"When Mum died, Dad threw himself into his work, and I seemed to do nothing but remind him of what he lost. Where there was once fatherly love and pride, there was distance at best. I worked hard before, but after that I threw myself into being the best, trying to make him proud again. But nothing helped. I... I can't even remember the last time I saw him smile. I really think...." He trails off with another sigh, not quite steady this time.
"You think that's why he shipped you off to school in the States instead of somewhere in Britain."
"To get me out of his sight, yes. Even with my coloring, I still remind him too much of her."
If I was anyone else, I'd say what I'm feeling is a twinge of pity. "Guess neither of us has much of a family. Mine figured it wasn't even worth taking care of a sick kid."
"Your parents...?"
"Dead. Wasn't them that tossed me out, though. It was an aunt and uncle or something. Don't know, don't care. I just know that I'm not wanted anywhere." I shrug, still avoiding Riku's eyes. Only when I feel a gentle hand on my shoulder do I look up. He's not smiling, but his expression is more gentle and sad than I've ever seen it before.
"Yes, you are."
I'm afraid if I open my mouth, I'll say something nasty or cold. So I stay silent, not even shrugging off Riku's hand. He moves it of his own accord eventually, stroking my hair once before lowering his arm. It doesn't feel that bad, really.
The next few days fly, leaving Riku buried in preparations. He spends most of Monday on the phone, fixing every little snag that comes up, from caterers all the way down to the last flower arrangement. His only break is late on Monday, when his gift from his father arrives: a new black baby grand piano, taking up the big empty corner near the glass sliding doors out to the terrace. It's nice to see him taking a half hour to relax and play, and I can't help listening. He really is talented, with those long, graceful fingers. But the more I hear about this party, the more I'm terrified about going to it. It seems like no time passes at all before the twenty-third rolls around and Riku's nudging me into the bathroom to wash up, saying my hair needs to be wet for what he wants to do. Oh god, I'm afraid. I take my time in the shower, until Riku's knocking on the door and laughing at me to hurry up. I emerge with a towel wrapped around me, my hair still dripping wet as Riku instructed. He sits me at the dressing area vanity, letting me watch in the mirror as he applies a few creams and lotions to my hair. Then he starts brushing and blowdrying it, and I'm shocked when my hair doesn't pop into its usual spiny mass. No, it hangs around my face and shoulders in a smooth, silky mass, straight as an arrow. It even looks glossier, the slight reddish highlights deeper and brighter. If not for my face, I'd never recognize myself.
"Okay, don't freak, but this is the only thing I could think of to help your color a little...."
He starts putting makeup on me next. Oh no. Oh hell no. I get out a single syllable of protest before he shushes me, just applying a little concealer under my eyes and in the hollows of my face. I have to admit, it does soften the dark, sunken places, giving me a slightly more healthy look. But I still sulk, feeling like a girl for wearing the stuff.
"Now you can go get dressed. We'll be leaving in about twenty minutes."
I go into my room to put on my clothes for the evening. First boxers and undershirt, then the pieces of the tux. The tailors did a great job of fitting it to me without accentuating how skinny I am. I almost look respectable. Sighing, knowing there's no way out of this night now, I go into the living room to wait. When Riku comes out, I can't help staring. He looks even more amazing than he did when he tried the tux on, now that it's tailored to him. The subtle wave of his hair is straightened, like mine, feathering slightly around his face in an almost feminine way. I get off the couch, unable to stop myself from nodding in admiration, which earns me a shy smile.
"You look... really nice."
"So do you." Riku hands me a formal black outer coat that he must've gotten when he picked up the tuxes. I slip into it; it's warm and heavy and comforting. He pulls on his own coat and offers me his arm, like I'm his prom date. I roll my eyes at him, smirking just slightly, and figure what the hell. So I take his arm as he leads me down the hall to the elevator, letting go only when we're inside so nobody sees us and makes comments. We ride down to the parking garage in comfortable silence; he keeps looking over at me to make sure that I haven't bolted in terror. There's no one else in that level of the garage, our footsteps echoing off the concrete and steel. The Lexus encases us like a dark shell, barely even humming around us as the CD player starts up the Annie Lennox disc Riku must've been listening to the other day. Annie's one of the few mellow singers I actually like, so I can't help singing along very quietly as we head out.
"You have a beautiful voice, Sora."
I shrug, trailing off in embarrassment. "Yeah, well... Walking On Broken Glass is a good song. Can't help singing it."
"When we get home, I'll play the piano for you, if you like."
"Sure... that'd be cool."
"I meant... will you sing for me? While I play?"
"Uh...."
"Please?"
"... yeah, sure. I guess."
He leaves it at that, driving the rest of the way to the banquet hall with this little smile on his face. When we pull up to the valet, I'm feeling a little ill. This place is huge, and there's so many people going in, all dressed in tuxes and gowns that have to be worth a couple grand apiece, not to mention all the jewelry.
"Riku, I really think this is a bad idea...."
"Trust me. You'll be fine, just be polite and only talk as much as you're comfortable with."
He leads me inside, nodding to the attendants who take our coats. Then it's into the main hall with its inlaid floors and grand staircases leading down from the entrance area double doors to where the dance floor and tables are. As soon as the people closest to the stairs see Riku, they start applauding, and the sound and attention spread like a wave through the entire gathering. All eyes are on him, appreciation clear in the crowd. They really do like him, even if it's just for business; that much is clear in the genuine smiles I see on most of their faces. Riku flashes a bright but nervous smile as he descends the stairs with me at his side, stepping right into a parted group of men in classic tuxedoes who start shaking hands with him and slapping him on the back depending on their idea of a formal greeting. I stand off to the side, silent, until Riku clears his throat quietly.
"Gentlemen, this is my friend and new personal assistant, Sora Albrecht."
Personal assistant? When did that happen?
Now all eyes in the smaller group are on me, and I'm surprised that most of them look at least pleasant enough. I offer my hand to each of them in turn as Riku introduces me, as if I'll remember any of them. "It's nice to meet all of you. It... seems Riku is well-liked amongst everyone here."
One of the men, whom I remember is Mr. MacIntyre, nods. "Some of us actually find him a pleasure to deal with. He's got his father's head for business, and is more than fair."
"He certainly didn't get Sinclair's cutthroat persona!" the one called Mason laughs. "I don't sweat quite so badly when it's Riku on the phone and not his father!"
"I admit, my father can be quite ruthless. But he certainly gets things done right the first time." Riku seems a little more relaxed around these people, like he's known them for many years.
"You should consider yourself lucky that you don't work for Sinclair Whitebridge instead of his son, Mr. Albrecht," MacIntyre chuckles. "He's gone through several personal assistants in the past three years."
"Then I do indeed consider myself fortunate. Riku has been quite... generous to me." My stomach rumbles faintly, due to nerves and the inability to eat earlier out of anxiety. Thankfully, no one hears it except Riku, who nods to the older men.
"Gentlemen, if you'll excuse us, we were quite busy earlier today with preparations, and I'm afraid we're famished. If you don't mind, we'll return once we've had a spot of dinner." Riku herds me away, followed by a chorus of friendly farewells. "They're good people, at least. I've known most of that group since I was little... they travel between London and New York constantly to make sure everything's running smoothly on both sides."
"I hope everybody's that nice, then."
"Well, there's some right bastards in this room, I'll tell you that. In fact, I have to charm a couple of them tonight to get them to invest. A year ago, they were trying to claim a patent on something Dad's company did first. Big legal hoopla, and the resolution wasn't pleasant."
We pause at our table to put in our orders for dinner-- both of us go for the prime rib-- then make our way over to the hors d'oeuvre table. The spread of cheeses and crackers, fruits and vegetables, and all kinds of little hot and cold sandwiches makes me want to drool. I load up a small plate, nibbling gladly since it gives my brain a chance to think about something other than all these people. Riku turns to me, about to offer me a little puff pastry, when it happens.
A girl snags him by the arm.
Riku looks positively embarrassed. I flash an annoyed grimace at her. She's beautiful... bright red hair and pale skin with not a freckle in sight, and very striking hazel eyes. The ivory and black dress sheathing her body looks outrageously expensive and yet understated, making up for the diamond necklace dripping from her throat.
"It's been a very long time, Riku! How've you been... is school going well?"
"Yes, thank you. It's good to see you, too." Riku blushes more deeply, the girl still clinging lightly to his arm. "Sora, this is Leah Blackburn, daughter of the head of Blackburn Systems, Inc. Leah, this is Sora Albrecht, my friend and assistant."
"How nice to meet you, Sora." She beams and offers her hand to me. "You're so lucky to be working for Riku. He's absolutely darling."
I take her hand and offer a firm handshake, though for some reason the way she's touching Riku is making me feel a little disoriented. "Yeah, he's a good guy. And it's nice to meet you." God, that second part was hard to force out, but I do it without choking or hesitating.
"I hate to be a bother, but would you mind if I borrowed Riku for just a little while? There's something he and I need to discuss."
Great, here it comes. This is where I'm left to fend for myself. I give Riku a look, just enough to let him and not Leah know that I'm not thrilled with this. "If you need to, then I don't mind. Riku, you know where to find me."
"I won't be long, I promise."
With a last apologetic glance at me, Riku wanders off with Leah on his arm, ever the gentleman. I turn back to the hors d'oeuvre table, picking up the pastry Riku was about to offer me. I study it for a moment, taking note of the rich smell of spiced beef before I put the entire small morsel in my mouth, biting down almost viciously on it. I feel like such a jealous bitch, without actually being jealous. I have no reason to feel jealous, since I couldn't care one whit if Riku lands a gorgeous girl like Leah. He deserves somebody nice like her, somebody that fits into his world better than I ever could. I'm lucky he even calls me a friend and means it.
But he doesn't come back in a few minutes. He doesn't even return when I'm seated and dinner is served. I glance over and there he is, sitting all the way across the room at Leah's table, right next to her. They're laughing, and she's leaning towards him. From the angle I'm looking at them, I can see her hand on his knee.
There's a faint ringing in my ears, slowly drowning out the sounds of the small orchestra filling the hall with soft music. It gets louder when one of the servers sets Riku's dinner in front of him at her table. My tablemates probably feel sorry for my prime rib, with the way I tear into it with fork and steak knife. I can hear the blood pounding in my head, my vision focused down to the red juices running across my plate from the meat. For as much as I cut it, I barely eat. I can't. My throat is so tight, it feels like I can hardly even breathe.
"Champagne?"
I look up at the voice beside me with narrowed eyes. Apparently, the server thought I was older until he got a good look at me. He's about to turn away when I growl at him under my breath.
"I am Mr. Whitebridge's personal assistant. And yes, I would like some champagne."
My first glass of the night is placed in front of me with all due haste.
I've lost count of how many hours pass and how many glasses of wine and champagne I've had. All I know is that the room is spinning and I feel almost numb, except for the hot little coal burning away in my chest. The button of my collar is undone and folded open so I don't feel so stifled, but it doesn't help much. She's still giggling at him, Riku being his usual charming self. The sound is so grating to me now, I want to put out my ears with my knife.
An older woman sitting at my table looks over at the happy couple and coos in approval. "Sinclair Whitebridge has been wanting to marry that boy off to Miss Blackburn for ages. They do make such an adorable couple."
A man who must've been her husband nods and smiles. "They do, indeed. Perhaps this year, Sinclair will be in a much better mood after Riku announces his engagement."
A heavy swallow that drains my wineglass catches in my throat for a minute. I pound on my chest, trying to focus in the older couple. "... Riku... he's engaged...?"
The couple looks over at me in surprise. "You didn't know, dear?" the woman clucks. "His father said that once Riku turned eighteen, he and Miss Blackburn would announce it to the entire company. To make it official."
"... no ring...." I sway a little, my words sounding slurred even to my ears. I'm seriously wasted, which would explain the looks of disapproval I see all around me.
"It's just a formality, really. Clearly, those little dears wanted to keep it a secret from everyone, and a ring would just give them away. But naturally, everyone talks, so everyone knows."
... I have nothing left to say at this point. Not to these people, anyway. I get slowly to my feet, my napkin falling off my lap and my empty wineglass clutched in my hand, and weave my way over to the table where Riku and his... fiancee... sit. With his head turned toward Leah, he doesn't see me coming, but she does. Her eyes widen a little, and that makes Riku turn around. His eyes go even more round than hers, despite their slightly Asian shape.
"Sora...?" His voice sounds weak, uncertain.
Now I manage a crooked smile, leaning closer to the two of them. "Congratulations, you two. I'm sure you'll make beautiful babies together."
"Th-- thank you...," Leah says softly, her eyes darting from my face to Riku's and back again. "But...."
I cut her off. This girl has nothing to say that I want to hear. Now is my time to be heard, even though I can barely speak, much less understand what I'm saying. "I guess I'm not gonna be wanted at the wedding and all, though... I mean, no bride wants her husband's former boytoy to ruin her special day."
"Sora...!" Riku doesn't sound so uncertain anymore. My name is hissed, quietly but no less outraged than it should be.
"Nono, it's okay, Riku...." My voice is getting louder, enough to make the people at the surrounding tables stare. I can feel their eyes on me like a thousand little weights, but I don't care. Even the orchestra's stopped now, the silence deafening. Something's broken inside me, and no amount of alcohol is going to stop it. "Guess I did play too hard to get for your tastes. You can still wear white to your wedding... unless you already fucked her when nobody was looking." I slam down my wineglass on the table so hard I snap the stem in my hand, narrowly avoiding slicing my thumb open.
Riku is out of his seat like he's been burned. I've never seen his eyes so fierce, so pale green. I'm waiting for the blow to come, but it doesn't. We just stand toe to toe, every second of friendship we might've shared over the weeks shattered in an instant, and it's all I can do to not fall onto Riku or throw up from all the booze.
"Let's go."
The words are so quiet, I almost miss them. But there's no way I could mistake the purposeful stride that swiftly carries Riku from the hall. I stumble after him, ignoring the shocked murmurs slowly filling the hall behind us. Riku doesn't even get our coats, rushing past the attendants for his car. He doesn't say a word to the valet, waiting in silence until the Lexus pulls up. I walk around to the passenger's side, waiting to see if the lock pops. It does. I get in, sinking into the seat and biting back the groan that wants to well up my throat. Riku snaps off the sound system, leaving us to drive home in complete silence.
There's no words, no playful arm touching, not even a glance as we ride the elevator back up to the penthouse. I take off my tuxedo jacket as Riku shoves the key into the lock, swinging the door open and stepping inside. I follow, pulling the door shut, and turn around to face him.
His fist slams into my face hard enough to send me sprawling back against the door.
I slide down the door to the floor, slumped half-sitting against the cool painted metal. My lip burns from the deep split in it; all I can taste is copper and a slight trace of wine. I poke at my front teeth to see if he knocked anything loose, but everything seems intact, just hurting. I press my fingers to my lip to stop the bleeding, my eyes rolling upward slightly to try focusing on Riku.
His fists are clenched until his knuckles show white, his pale face flushed and his eyes wild. I'm waiting for him to burst into holy flames, beating white wings and raising a burning sword to cleave me in half. I feel calm, considering I'm probably about to die.
"What the bloody HELL were you thinking?! I take you into my home, treat you with nothing but respect, and THIS is how you repay me?! I'm sure word's gotten back to my father by now, and I'll be damned lucky if he doesn't show up on my doorstep with all of hell at his back!" He's so angry he's gasping, barely able to breathe between bouts of screaming. "I told you time and time again, I'm not out to bugger you, you daft FOOL! All I wanted was to be your friend... I thought you UNDERSTOOD that! But NO, you went and got yourself toasted, and you hurt me, you hurt Leah, and you hurt YOURSELF!" He takes a step toward me, casting me into shadow, and I finally cower, trying to melt into the door to get away.
His rage... it hurts. My chest feels tighter and tighter, squeezing me until I can't breathe. This is it, I really am going to die. I can hear screaming in my ears that isn't Riku, a high-pitched, crystalline wail that pushes my consciousness closer and closer to blackout. Riku has me by the shoulders, shaking me. I don't think he realizes what's wrong; he's too far gone to care, as well he should be. I've done exactly what I've sought out to do... I've isolated the only person who ever treated me like a human being.
"Leah... you didn't even ASK me to explain about her! Everyone thinks we're getting married, but we don't WANT to! Sora, Leah is GAY. She has a girlfriend! But my father and her parents want us to get married to break her of the "habit." What's worse, my father gets the added benefit of taking control of Blackburn Systems in the deal! How do you like that, Sora? I'm nothing more than a business opportunity to him, and one of my dearest friends in the world is miserable because she has to hide the one she loves!"
I whimper, blood running down my chin from under my fingers.
Riku lets go of my arms and backs off, staring at me with an unreadable expression.
I push myself up, swallowing back the bitterness rising in my throat. I'm going to be sick. I bolt for the bathroom, getting there just in time to lose what little I ate. I gag so hard I sob, feeling like an eternity passes before I finally stop heaving. I flush, rinse out my mouth, and slip into the room that almost started to feel like mine. I find my old jeans and a plain black sweatshirt, changing into them and leaving the expensive clothes crumpled on the floor. My old sneakers feel strange, but I shove my feet into them anyway. I kept these things because I knew this day would come, and it's time to make things right again.
Riku's sitting at the piano when I emerge from my room with my old windbreaker over my arm. His jacket is on the couch nearby, the first couple of buttons on his shirt undone. He's just staring at the keys, unmoving.
"For what it's worth... I'm glad you finally came to your senses. If you're lucky, you'll never even think about me ever again."
God, why do I feel like I want to cry?
"Goodbye, Riku."
Why am I crying?
I flee the penthouse. I flee the answers to his unspoken questions. I flee the answers to my own.
But hardest of all, the part that breaks my heart....
I flee the single low note that sounds from the piano, and the quiet sob that echoes with it.
TBC