Arise on the Occasion
Chapter II
SIN Productions
Toyoma, Japan
Rowen sat miserably at one of Toyoma's bars with the worst reputation. He downed a shot of whiskey and cringed at the bitter taste before taking another drag of his Marlboro. The years had been harsh on the blue haired man, and he looked the part. With his hair disheveled and whiskers growing wildly on his face, unshaven for days. In short, he looked like a bum.
Rowen left a tip at the counter and pushed himself off the stool a little too fast, because when he was in standing position he nearly lost his balance. Shaking off the woozy feeling he was growing accustomed to, he began to make his trek outside where he would call on a taxi to take him to Mia's.
Slouched and dragging his body, he threw on his ragged old coat he must've had for years now around his shoulders before he exited the bar.
Being on the worst side of town had its advantages. You could always point out people who had it in worse than you did.
He felt warm despite the cold temperature and knew he had way too much alcohol in his blood stream. If he couldn't feel the frigid chill, he was drunk. Mia was going to throw a fit when he reached her place smelling like whiskey. But it was better than going home.
He still lived with his father. He never managed to make it out on his own, despite everyone's set future they had envisioned him in. They imagined him going off to college, becoming a Professor of some sort, and making it in the world better then any of his peers.
How wrong they were. Rowen didn't attend a class out of high school. He worked no-where jobs that paid little and half the time didn't even show up to work. After getting fired several times he figured his luck was going down the drain...
He couldn't even keep a decent girlfriend. And in fact, his reputation in Tokyo and Toyoma with girls had deteriorated. Girls knew about Rowen Hashiba the "cold hearted bastard" before he even introduced himself. Which was probably the reason Rowen hadn't had a steady girlfriend for two years.
Lately though it had gotten worse, he had scored an all time low. He had messed around with a girl and paid her...
The next morning though, he sobered up, and realized what he had done (after opening an empty wallet) and nearly cried the whole damned daylong.
Ever since that day he had managed to stay hooker clean.
He eventually found a run down pay phone, designed with various graffiti. He fished his pockets for a quarter and haphazardly found one. He stuck it in the slot and dialed the taxi service, a number he learned by heart.
"Yah, I'd like a Taxi to come...to..." Rowen looked up at the sign, "Biri Bar. Thank ya." He hung up the phone and took a stance against the wall.
He was used to waiting.
In fact he was waiting now. Waiting for a taxi. Waiting for a job. Waiting for money. Waiting for acceptance. Waiting for a life.
He crossed his arms and let his eyes wander his surroundings, which was a caliginous boulevard with a fading street lamp. A desolate and dangerous place to be at night. All the more reason Rowen felt at ease.
Voices filled his ears and he turned to see who it might be.
Three men emerged from the bar and two of them were laughing up a storm.
"You are going to get the trashin' of your life." One of larger men told the one in the middle. "You fuckin' fag."
Rowen blinked. "What the hell is goin' on?" his voice sounded slurred and uneasy.
All three of them turned at Rowen's call.
"Stay out of it. We're gonna give this faggot a beating he won't forget. Unless you want one too, I'd shut the fuck up." The other man announced with a fist.
Rowen drunkenly watched as the men threw the smaller man into a beat up Cadillac. Within a minute they squealed out of there.
Rowen looked down and cursed at himself for not helping. But what help could he do? He was drunk and without his armor orb. He hadn't stayed in shape, well, not enough to overtake two larger men.
He wasn't a Ronin Warrior anymore any ways. What help could he give? He was a smaller man at 5'11" and those thugs were at least 6'1". Besides, he had his own problems.
Rowen broke out a cigarette and lit it, taking a nice slow drag to put his mind at rest.
But images popped into his head. He could never get rid of them. They were a constant nightmare.
"Stop it Rowen! Stop!" came Cye's voice.
But Rowen was too angry with the world around to hear the pleas, he just pulled back and let his fist take over. He hit as hard as he could right into Sage's stomach.
Sage cringed, but didn't let a sound escape his lips.
"I can't believe you're a fuckin' fruitcake." Rowen spat on the blonde.
Rowen shook off his memories when the taxi pulled up. He shakily opened the door and got in for the long ride to Mia's.
--
It was close to four in the morning when Rowen staggered into the immense house.
"Rowen Hashiba."
The blue haired man cringed as his name was used in such a tone, "Gomen Mia. I didn't mean to get in so late."
Mia cascaded down the stairs wearing a long red robe. Because red was her choice color ever since her and Ryo had gotten married.
Figures.
"If you're going to be staying under this roof you will abide by my rules." Mia reminded him.
"Mia, I'm not a kid." Rowen laughed bitterly, shooting her a look.
"Exactly. You are an adult Rowen. It's pathetic I have to treat you this way." Mia sighed while Rowen sneered.
"Then don't." he counteracted.
Mia shook her head and retreated back up the stairs.
What the hell? Mia wasn't his god damned mother.
He didn't even have a mother, Rowen huffed.
Rowen roughly sat on the couch and wished he hadn't sat down so fast. His head...OUI...
Once he got control over the spinning sensations, he took in a deep breath and decided to see if any mail had come for him today.
Leaning over towards the coffee table he found a pile of car magazines, a girly magazine for Mia, a letter addressed to Mr. And Mrs. Sanada...nothing much.
But a smaller, white paper caught Rowen's attention. He picked it up and waited for his vision to not be so blurred.
It was an invitation.
An invitation? To what? His funeral? Rowen scoffed.
But it was to a party! No...specifically a "get together"...
And who was the host?
Rowen gaped at the name.
Cye Mouri.
Cye wanted him to go to London? Where Sage was?
Was he crazy? Had the English man gone mad?
Rowen gulped nervously and eyed the details.
You're invited to a 'get together' at Cye Mouri's condo on Saturday, the 19th, at 9pm. Please reserve your spot ahead of time.
And then there was a list of names of the invitees: Vigil JaNell, Sage Date, Christian Lord, Randy Lyons, Kento Rei Faun Mei Rei Faun, Ryo Mia Sanada, Shiroh Plyth, Jacob Ruffing, Molly McAntony, Jesse Carolyn Moore, Rowen Hashiba, Symphony Harrison, Noel Couch, Jonathon Angelina Fisk, Takeshi Sadamoto, and Tate Westin.
Obviously Mia and Ryo had already looked through the mail. This one was specifically addressed to Rowen, and he assumed they had gotten a copy.
He wondered if the couple would attend. And if Kento would attend.
Hell, he hadn't seen Kento in little over a year. Ever since he moved with his wife Mei back to China to raise a family.
And Cye...he hadn't seen Cye since Ryo and Mia had gotten married seven years ago.
Rowen left the invitation on the coffee table where he had found it and somehow, one way or another wandered aimlessly up to his bedroom. He plopped down on the bed and contently stared at the ceiling, until his drunken stupor consumed him completely and dragged him into slumber.
--
Rowen awoke to a splitting headache and instantly remembered the whiskey...and the three men...and Mia yelling at him...and the invitation.
Oh. The invitation.
He missed Sage, so much it hurt. He would give anything to take back his actions and words he had said to him on that one fateful day. He had been cruel, all because....because...
Because Sage had given Rowen the honor of opening up to him.
Fuck, he couldn't believe what a mistake that had been. When Sage had confessed to Rowen...Rowen had gone off on a mad streak.
And till this day he couldn't understand why.
The only thing he could link it to was the fact his father was completely against homosexuals. And he reminded Rowen of that everyday.
He had been raised in a strict Catholic home, at least his father tried. Born and raised in New York his father didn't want him to be a regular unethical New Yorker. He wanted him to have morals.
Rowen shook his head. Pathetic. Blaming his mistake on his father. Who was he kidding? He was a complete ass and he had drove his best friend, whom he considered his brother, away.
But Rowen had that effect on people. His mother never really cared to take care of him. He supposed that was why she had left. And his father, well, he was always busy with one thing or another.
Even Mia seemed at edge with him, and he couldn't blame her. His life now revolved around hookers and cheap alcohol. Not at all that glamorous.
Rowen sniffed and couldn't believe he was letting himself get worked up about something that had happened over ten years ago. The past was the past, you couldn't change it. Life had taught him that. But it would be something he would regret and hold heavy in his heart for the rest of his life.
Everyday he thought about Sage. How he missed his calmness, his sarcastic wit on rare occasions, his cool sense of style, his charm...
Rowen's throat felt dry and he sobbed out loud. But no one could hear him, and more importantly no one cared. Not that he blamed them, it was his own fault any ways. He had always been a mistake that would amount to nothing- that was his curse.
There was no way he was going to Cye's party. It would only bring bad memories and misery to a good occasion. Despite how desperately he wanted to see Sage again.
He just wished he could tell him how sorry he was, even after all these years. Just explain to him what he didn't understand and hope that Sage could find it somewhere in his heart to forgive him. Even if he didn't, he would be able to get it off his chest and then maybe he could pick the shattered remains of his life and get on with whatever hell threw at him.
Rowen miserably pushed himself off the bed and felt as ready as he would to start a fresh day, a day that could only remind him of his bad decisions and ill judgment.
He could sense the moment he reached the kitchen he would be getting a bitchin' from a certain Mrs. Sanada.
He sighed dramatically.
to be continued...