Chapter 3: Unexpected Surprises

Work ended at 6 that day, and Ren almost forgot Yoh's invitation to the party. But the brown haired man would not let him forget. So there they were, in Yoh's black Chrysler, at a red light on Magnolia and 1st. Yoh was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he turned the volume of the music coming out of the radio up. Those tan ears never thought they'd hear heavy metal holiday songs.

Ren's eyes were looking out the window, at the snow and slush pushed up on the sidewalks, covering ice and frozen cigarette buts. The red tint from the traffic light gave the white piles a rosy tinge, which changed to aqua as the car accelerated.

"We're going to Manta's. You remember him, don't you?" Yoh asked, sideways smiling at the Chinese boy. How could he forget? Manta was all Yoh could talk about. He was Yoh's once short lover who was in college, studying accounting, law, and how he was to someday run his father's company. Manta, who was once only about 4ft tall was now 5'9'', three inches taller than Yoh and six inches taller than Ren. When he was 12, he memorized the dictionary. Thus, his vocabulary was… colorful, to say the least.

"Yes." Was his only answer as he watched passing houses. Manta's would be big; big and elegant. A mansion probably, considering his bank account and how Yoh described it like a castle. Though, Ren thought, how would Yoh know every room in detail, especially the "guest bedroom"? The Chinese boy was waiting for the two to move in together.

They pulled up in the driveway of a huge mansion. It was white, 3 stories tall with an attic, and probably a cellar beneath the ground. In front was a marble fountain of a mermaid sitting on a rock, blowing a conch while water spouted out of it. Already Ren felt slightly out of place as he stepped out of the car, closing the door.

The women walking in had beautiful dresses on that looked hand-made for them. Colors ranged from a deep red to an elegant emerald green. All the men were in nice suits, some even in tuxes. Ren stood there, dressed in a starched white shirt, black tuxedo pants, and a vest under a heavy coat. He felt like a waiter as he clutched his gold wrapped present to him. Yoh emerged wearing a red sweater and baggy black pants that were cut off at his shins, and his headphones now green.

"Why don't you have a present?" the Chinese boy asked, walking next to the brown haired man up to the steps. A weird smile crept over his coworker's face as he looked at the raven-haired boy.

"I do… just not a very public one." Ren didn't want to know anymore so he asked nothing else.

The two approached the solid oak doors and knocked using the solid brass knocker. Manta was clearly loaded, and not just with money. The door opened and a smiling face welcomed them, antique furniture could be seen in the background.

"Yoh, I've been waiting for you to get here, come in and introduce me to your friend."

Manta had his blonde hair tied back with a green ribbon and his face was full of kindness. The two stepped in out of the cold and around were people, people, and more people: mostly upper class and older then Ren, not to mention taller too. Yoh smiled as a butler took their coats and hugged Manta, looking almost like a child with this man. This image almost shocked the Chinese boy, was that what love looked like?

"Manta, I've missed you."

"So have I, so, who is your friend?"

Yoh blinked and looked back at the gold eyes. "That's Tao Ren, Ren, this is Manta."

"Nice to meet you." Manta said kindly, offering a hand. Ren looked at it, then looked at the pale face extending it. He neither moved nor spoke. Yoh whispered something in Manta's ear and he nodded. "Well, make yourself at home. There's a bar over there, hors d'oeuvres, and plenty of places to sit." And the two walked off.

The gold eyes shifted around and he began to walk into the crowd before him, shifting behind and in front of people. Suddenly, someone stepped back and ran into the Chinese boy. He smiled, without an apology, and said, "Would you get me a brandy?"

Of all the nerve, the man thought he was a waiter. Without a word Ren walked off to the bar, his eyes changing from angry to hurt, then back to angry with every step. He didn't belong here. He didn't belong amongst these people. He belonged at home, alone, in his room.

Ren sat down and folded his arms on the counter, searching for something in the polished mahogany to ease his pain and aching. Needless to say, he didn't find anything, then again it was just wood. But, in front of him, there was something, or someone, rather.

"Can I get you something, sir?" a calm voice asked from behind the counter. Ren's eyes darted up to meet the brown ones looking at him with compassion. Some color passed over his tan cheeks as he mumbled, "Coke."

The man had blue hair, gelled up in little spike whereas the underside of his hair remained a dark brown. His eyes didn't part from the gold ones as he put the coke on the counter. Ren didn't know what was happening or what to do, so he stood up and walked away from the bartender, finding a place to sit on a couch in the parlor.

He sipped his coke through the straw, contemplating whether or not he should go back and asking himself why he wanted to. It was just another bartender, but soon someone sat down next to him.

The man was tall and thin, a bit bony. His pale face was long and sickly, though glee pulled at the man's dark and almost blue lips. There were dark, dark circles under his blue and lifeless eyes, which were full of wisdom and almost a kind of irony or cynicism. His thin and wispy yellow hair hung at different lengths on his head, covered bye a white hat with a flower coming out of it. Orange gloves covered his hands, a white slim-fitting coat covered his shoulders and torso, and his pants were black, going with his black boots.

The man's smile was almost disturbing. It was full of glee, pain, hopelessness, and sarcasm, and his air was indecisive.

"Hello," the man said, a thick German accent made it difficult to understand him at first. "What brings you to this party?"

Ren looked up at the now fully smiling man. Obviously he was a doctor because a tear in his coat was stitched up with medical thread, and he must've spent a long time in Germany, if not been born there. "…I'm a friend of a friend of Manta." The Chinese boy answered, almost surprised that he was speaking to the man.

"Ah, I see." He said, almost to himself. Ren was beginning to get a bit uneasy when the man looked at him and introduced himself. "I am Faust VIII. Sorry for being so rude."

"You weren't rude at all… in fact, I think you're the first person here besides Yoh to treat me as a guest."

"Ah, so Yoh is your friend. I might've guessed. But why do you say that no one else treats you like a guest?"

Ren blushed as he looked at his coke. "Some guy thought I was a waiter."

To the surprise of the Chinese boy, the man burst out laughing. Faust's laugh wasn't cruel or cold, in fact it was quite warm, but, much like his eyes, it lacked life. It almost sounded like an empty echo, a mere negative of the real picture, a shadow of its former zeal. Something about the man's glee was extremely tragic.

"Don't worry about it. People often mistake me for a Halloween fanatic. They're just ignorant."

"…Yeah…"

"I'm sorry, but I didn't catch your name."

The Chinese boy resisted a rude retort as he muttered, "Ren. Tao Ren."

"So you are Chinese then. Good, I was beginning to think I was losing my gift at guessing accents. Then I'm guessing you work with Yoh?"

"In the Bon Marché down town, yes."

"Ah. Manta has told me so many times about Yoh that I almost can't forgive myself for forgetting. I myself am a doctor, and used to be quite a renowned one. Still am in Germany… perhaps."

"How do you know Manta?"

"I'm partially his doctor, partially his friend. We met when he did research about famous doctors. My name came up and he was thrilled to see that 1: I'm still alive, and 2: that I was related to the best doctor and scholar of all. The infamous Faust that all those plays and books were written about. He sold his soul to the devil for sorcery, necromancy mainly. It now seems to run in the family."

The man, who was growing stranger by the minute, took a sip of his tea, a nostalgic and forlorn look in his eyes. Ren stared at him for a long time and then allowed his gold eyes to drop once again to the ice cube at the bottom on his now empty glass.

"Nice to meet you then, Faust." He said respectfully as he stood.

"Going back to the bartender?" The older man inquired, still looking out into space. The Chinese boy blushed as he looked in shock at Faust. Then he shook his head and walked up to the bar, not letting himself admit that he now longed for the bartender with blue hair.