Tornado: Hiya peeps. Sorry I haven't updated in while, my Alg. Homework has been a bitch to complete. Plus I have some other stupid projects that I have to do.
DT: You should really be doing those right now.
Tornado: Shut up! I'd rather be updating this story than doing stupid ass projects that have nothing to do with education.
DT: Than why do they assign them in the first place?
Tornado: They reap pleasure seeing all the kids cringe in exhaustion.
DT: Do you really believe that?
Tornado: Why shouldn't I?
DT: Just continue with the fic.
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Seto's POV
I couldn't believe that I had let that slip. She knew what I had been hiding from the world for ages. When I had arrived here, I had been surprised to find that Yugi did not recognize me. That was the way I liked it. I still today had never forgiven him for his childish mistake. When Blue-Eyes taught me how to duel, I had vowed to make her proud of me. This is why I fought to be the number one in the world. When Yugi stole my title, it devastated me. I have no problem with Yugi other than he killed his sister and proceeded to use her dueling beliefs still today. He put twists into her teachings, probably changes made by his grandfather.
Sclera's beeper buzzed abruptly, causing both of us to jump. She let out a slight growl of annoyance as she glanced at it. She rolled her eyes before withdrawing a cell phone from her pocket. After typing the digits into it, she spoke in a heated tone for a few minutes. She was clearly ticked that whoever had beeped her was in conversation with her at the moment.
"Whatever, I'll be there as soon as I can," she barked before hanging up the phone. "Fuck."
"What's wrong?" I interrogated.
"The people that I work with cannot stand to work one day without me in their presence, so I have to go and help them," she answered bitterly.
"Would you like a ride?" I offered.
"No thanks. I'll call my chauffer, and have him pick me up."
I nodded understandingly. It was much more comfortable in your own car than in someone else's. I studied her as she conversed on the other line. Her words flowed from her lips with precision and speed. It was a few seconds before she fully refocused her attention on me. Her eyes were suddenly displaying weariness and fatigue.
We sat quietly until her pager beeped once more. She gathered her book bag before addressing me.
"Thank you for inviting me. I truly enjoyed spending time with you. And let's not mention this little incident to anyone shall we?" she said.
"Of course. I guess I'll see you tomorrow. Wait, it's Friday. Never mind, I guess I'll see you on Monday."
"See you than," she responded before departing.
I watched her silver Mercedes drive down the driveway. I sighed heavily. Mokuba bounded down the stairs. He looked like he had heard that Christmas was coming early. I raised my eyebrow at him as he plopped on my lap.
"Who was that?" he asked sweetly.
"A classmate," I said bluntly.
"Do you like her?"
"No."
"Than why did you kiss her?"
My face paled and my eyes widened. I felt my jaw lock tightly. "You saw that huh?"
"Every bit of it. Why did you tell her about the photo and Yugi?"
"Enough with the twenty questions. Okay, I kind of like her, as for the last question, I have no fucking clue. You didn't hear that."
He shrugged. "You do know that you have a business dinner tonight, right?"
"Shit, I totally forgot. Thanks for reminding me. What time and where?"
"Eight o'clock at Marshal's."
"What the fuck is Marshal's?"
"New place. I hear it was rated five stars."
"Really, interesting. Come on, I have to pick out a suit."
He smiled before sprung ahead of me, and bolted into my chamber. I doggedly followed; I was not looking forward to this.
Sclera's POV
I stared out the window, analyzing the events that had occurred in the Kaiba mansion. Henry had been gracious enough not to ask about it, but I knew he was pondering.
"I have called the restaurant and informed them that you would be an hour. That will give you enough time to shower and properly ready yourself. I have a feeling that you will be waitressing," Henry informed me.
"I thought I told Phillip to hire more waiters?"
"He did, but the problem is that there is not enough for the group we are accommodating tonight. A horde of upper-class business men are having a meeting in the private dinning room, and we need more waitresses to serve them."
"I guess I can't be too angry over that. Could you possibly select an outfit that would be appropriate for this crowd?"
"I have already been thinking about that. Slacks or skirts?"
"Slacks. One: they're more comfortable. Two: most businessmen are complete perverts. Something a little less revealing for the top would be sufficient as well."
He nodded. I was silent for the rest of the ride. When I reached my apartment, I simply got my shower and dressed in the outfit that Henry had selected. It was a rich red silk shirt and a pair of black slacks. He had also sat out a pair of knee-high boots. I soon walked into the kitchen where Henry was leaning on the black counters. He smiled before motioning to the door.
We reached the restaurant within ten minutes to be greeted by a distressed looking Phillip Clem. He was smiled politely offering me a hand out of the car. I gave him my best cut-to-the-chase glare.
"How long until they arrive?" I asked.
"An hour and a half."
"How much is done?"
"Absolutely nothing."
"Christ."
We strode through the gold and glass doors, entering a spacious lobby with cherry hardwood floors and gold walls. The hostess looked up immediately with a relieved look. I raised my hand in greeting before following Phillip back through the dining area, which carried out the red and gold theme. The room was relatively bright with the reflective gold walls, but the low lighting made up for it. There were only three sources of light: the candles on each table, the small ceiling lights that were placed in the middle of each of the four dining areas, and the large chandelier in the center. There was a romantic air circulating through the restaurant, but it was obliterated upon passing through the large cherry doors into the private dining hall.
The walls were gold based with red splotches blended on. The long cherry table intimidated the new entrees of the room. The chairs were cherry with leatherbacks and seats. Yes, this was indeed the perfect place for businessmen.
I quickly began my work. It was maid's work for I had to dust, vacuum, and set the table before the guests arrived. It took me an hour to do so, and when I was finished, I plopped into the head chair. Phillip joined me letting out a long sigh. I felt his pain. We were so booked that twenty waitresses could barely cover the floor. Regularly, our chefs became flustered with the workload, threatening to quit. Our waitresses complained that their hours were too long, and we were not paying them enough. The only one that never complained an ounce was Phillip. I could never pay him enough for the shit that he took from the others and me. The work he did around the restaurant was amazing. He calmed the rioting members and balanced the books, allowing me to concentrate on my schoolwork. I could never pay him enough.
"Oh, Phillip, this place is a mess," I said heavily.
"I know, but you are doing everything that you can to keep this place running. You have the hardest job: managing your life and your job. You have tons of schoolwork and you have to concentrate on keeping the restaurant open. Those are not easy tasks."
"I get tired of it all. Sometimes I wish I could be normal, while others I wish I could be here."
We both sat in silence for the longest time. I stared at the wall blankly, juggling the thoughts of my mind into some system of organization. One of the waitresses popped her head into the room. Phillip promptly left without words. I stayed seated with the same expression: frustrated. /Life is just too damn complicated./
"Ms. Marshal?" a small voice asked from behind.
"What is it?" I answered irritably.
"The guests have arrived," she informed in the same timid voice.
"Thank you," I replied before rising.
I strode out the door with purposeful steps. I held my head high and my back straight. These men would not intimidate me. The hostess was about to seat them when I cut in. she curtly nodded and steped away, leaving me to inherit the floor.
"Gentlemen, welcome to Marshal's; my name is Sclera and I'll be your waitress ," I said. "Could you please follow me?"
I seated them in the private dining hall, giving them a few minutes to decide while I put my head into gear. I heard the doors open followed by several loud greetings. I entered the room once more to discover that the new entrée was a young boy with light brown hair, cerulean eyes, and an all black three-piece suit. I blinked.
Seto's POV
Mokuba selected a finely tailored black jacket and slacks granting me the honor of my shirt choice. We both agreed on a black silk shirt and a blood red tie. I fixed my hair, which was put to no use because it fell right back into place anyway, before striding out the door.
I arrived at Marshal's late, as usual, but the hostess greeted me with a smile before leading me to the dining area. I admired the scenery of the restaurant. The walls were golden contrasting the cherry floors. This was more of a romantic restaurant. I had nothing against that, but I began to wonder what the private hall looked like. The moment I passed through the doors, a completely different setting received me. The walls were still golden, but now contained the occasional accent of red. The low lighting had been traded for two bright chandeliers. It was a gorgeous room.
"Kaiba, you made it," a large, surly-looking man stated.
"Yes, well I can never arrive at a dinner on time," I replied smoothly.
He chuckled as the rest of the group hailed me. The doors opened once more, and a sapphire-eyed brunette entered. She was wearing black slacks and a brilliant red long-sleeve. I felt my mouth drop. /What the hell is Sclera Marshal doing here?/
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Tornado: So how will the dinner go? You'll just have to read the next chapter to find out.