AN: Hah. I found a funny word: lackadaisical. I needed an excuse to use it. :) It means, "Idle, inattentive; showing lack of interest."
Because of the dwindling of words that I have been experiencing, you all are being rewarded for you patience with two long chapters in a row, and acknowledgments! (Plus a super long author's note) I'd like to thank you all for your feedback. Reviews are what keep me posting this AU ... I have not been ignoring you, but I -am- terrible at responding to comments ...
Cookies to all!
Hitomi, BkFan, Dana, Relle, imccall93, blu-rain, penguinie, MC-88, Joonie, Kiyuu, Feverdream, Cassiopeia, Christa, Claudita, Vivi, Kristen, Ene, Crimson Okami, Anon
Plus a shout-out to my beta, Bey. Eternally grateful
So far, the questions that have been brought up are what I -want- you to be asking. They are all things that will be eventually resolved, so I'm glad you're confused. I was worried this story was too self-explanatory.
And in answer to a few questions: I purposely went from 'Thaddeus' to 'Tatsuha' to show that indeed, there was meaning behind the name changes. Sorry if I confused anyone. (Oh and, AU stands for 'Alternate Universe', penguinie :)
I know Shuuichi doesn't look like a 'Shane' ... but it's better than 'Steven'. Shudder. LEAVE. THE. NAMES. ALONE. Tip: Generally, the first two letters of the new name are the same romanji of the real names.
Maiko Shindou- (13) Maggie Shoeman
Shuichi Shindou - (16) Shane Shoeman
Ryuichi Sakuma - (17) Ryan Satterfield
Hiroshi Nakano- (17) Hilary (Hi) Nathan
Tatsuha Uesugi- (? looks 16) Thaddeus (Tad) Understold
Eiri Uesugi - (? looks 22) Eric Hueman
Tohma Seguchi - (?) Tohma Seguchi
Mika Seguchi- (--) Mira Sears
Suguru Fujisaki - (15) Sullivan Fulk
Taki Aizawa - (18) Taylor Ainsworth
Ma-kun - (--) Mark Kurt
Ken-chan - (--) Ken Chandler
Noriko Ukai - (18) Nova Upton
Claude K Winchester - (?) Claude K Winchester
Sakano - (28) Mr. Sakner
Yuki Kitazawa - (--) Yale Kitterman
Ayaka Usami - (?) Ayaka Usami
Curator
A man in limbo is not supposed to dream. Whether it involves fluffy kittens and chocolate or twisted, bloody images of the terrible, dreaming is not something that occurs to the satisfied. However, as of late, Eiri's mind had been constantly conjuring panoramas: pictures in his sleep. This was a function that had long been forgotten, now completely unfamiliar, and it perturbed him to no end. What these dreams foretold was something Eiri avoided consideration of, for the simple fact that he was wary of any questions that might arise amidst his quiet state. Troublesome inquiries would be an unwelcome intrusion to him, and he disliked things that disturbed him.
This may have been a very simple way of thinking, but Eiri found he was perfectly content as he was. The only matters that were invading his flawless little world were these cursed dreams which continued to haunt him.
"I've want to tell someone ..." He muttered to himself some random day, but never endeavored to find a body that would listen. It wasn't until he was approached by one with a strangely familiar face, did Eiri find that he should have forced himself outside of his normal, comfortable bubble much sooner.
"You should know something." Said the stranger with the recognizable visage, "It's about that kid you've been assigned."
"Shoeman?" Eiri prompted nonchalantly, "What about him?"
The day had a noticeable chill to it as Autumn tends to convey, but the sky was clear enough that the sun almost made wearing an overcoat too warm. Even so, Eiri snugly surrounded himself with his black raincoat, drew in his burning cigarette and sent his most lackadaisical glance in the stranger's direction.
The other remained unfazed and nodded in collected assent to Eiri's assumption. "Tohma didn't seem very wanting in informing you," He began casually, "but you should know that there's been some investigating behind your back."
Eiri inadvertently made an interested sound around his tobacco-filled paper, "The 'thing' that has been hovering around?"
His new acquaintance raised a staggered brow, "You knew? How?" he questioned.
The blond smirked in a somewhat roguish manner, "A little bird came and told me." He snickered, and removed his stubbing cigarette from his mouth.
"Probably a black bird ... or a crow." Came a mutter, but it was quickly dismissed. "No matter, so have you noticed anything?"
Eiri shook his head, "No. I have tried searching for anything strange but nothing seemed different ..."
A frown, frustration, disappointment and worry cast themselves in bright blue eyes. "Are you sure? Nothing out of the ordinary has happened?" He ran his fingers through long bangs, "If you can think of -anything-, it would be appreciated; mainly because this is sort of ..." He paused to think of the correct term, "personal to Tohma."
It never once occurred to Eiri to ask why, but in remembrance to fretful dreams he suddenly felt obligated to donate in discovering this mysterious concern.
'What are these dreams about?' He hesitantly questioned; 'what' and 'why' were bothersome beginnings to an issue, and had he not been in such a mindless state, perhaps Eiri would have been able to interpret an accurate answer without help. 'Of things gone past ... things no longer important to me ...' Was about the furthest he would allow himself to think on the matter.
His charge had been such a bother thus far: irritatingly troublesome.
"I guess ..." Eiri started offhandedly, "I might offer some insight if you asked the right questions."
The stranger frowned disapprovingly, "If there's anything you're 'forgetting'," He growled, purposely placing emphasis on 'forgetting' to demonstrate his blatant sarcasm. "But never mind, come to my office and maybe you can help more than you think." He encouraged a bit aggressively, "The faster we get this taken care of, the sooner we can all relax."
"Me leaving would leave him alone." Eiri protested logically, "Thaddeus won't be close enough to make up for my absence." Then an afterthought occurred, "And what's your name anyway? Why should I follow you and abandon my duties?"
An irritated sigh laced with a touch of impatience dripped from his hurried answer, "You can call me K, you should trust me because angels have an extremely hard time with lying. I'll send a notice to Thaddeus or another that he has double duty, and -" K smirked wryly, knowledge glittering in his eyes before he finished, "What could possibly happen within a few hours of your absence? He'll be fine."
Eiri sighed reluctantly, and figured that he was not going to win any argument with this particular soul, "Fine, lead the way." He complied wearily.
'What could possibly happen?'
--
"We. Are. So. Close." Shane squeaked in a strained voice as he clutched onto his steering wheel as though it was a life preserver. Rapturous tears threatened to burst from his eyes, even as his entire body began to tremble with excitement in prospect to the upcoming event.
Hilary watched him warily from his space behind the driver's seat inside of the huge minivan, "Ah ... should I drive? 'Cause --"
Sullivan suddenly grabbed the wheel and forced it to the right, "You almost went into the left lane!"
"I knew we should have let Mom or Dad come with us in the van!" Maggie hollered irately from behind Hilary; she sat in the far back to assist with holding the band's few instruments in place.
"That would have been annoying, and you know it!" Shane responded as he looked over his shoulder. He sounded as though he might enjoy starting a fight if it frustrated his little sister, but that was just part of the 'feeling obnoxious' mood he was in.
"No more than your driving skills. Watch the road!" Sullivan yelped as the van began swerve off the street again.
"Shut up you British prick! You're making me nervous!" The pink-haired ninny growled, and hunched back over his precious wheel.
"What was that?" The younger boy shouted, slandered and bristling in response. "I'll show you driving skills: my fist right into your face!"
"Do you want to go right here?" Shane asked in a sing-song voice, "Because I'll pile-drive you right into your seat!"
"Enough!" Hilary snarled furiously over his shoulder, as he struggled to keep Sullivan's keyboard in place and a speaker from falling on top of him, "You're going to get us killed! I should of sat up front just to keep you two children at peace."
The angry horn from a vehicle behind them forced Shane out of his staring match with Sullivan, and to focusing on the road. Maggie sighed heavily, "Lord, I'm not riding with you guys again. You'll be the death of me."
"Shut it Maggie. You're supposed to be my support." Shane pouted, and resisted the urge to pummel the one who's chest was puffing out in triumph beside him.
The rest of the drive went without major event, with the exception of a few sarcastic comments from Maggie, which only earned her a few spiteful jerks of the van just to make her panic. Pulling up to the Key Theo Theatre, it suddenly looked bigger and more intimidating than the old storage house had ever been before. Even Shane calmed down considerably as his excitement dwindled, and the weight of the event began settling on his frantic nerves.
"We'll be fine." Hilary said from behind. Shane saw him smile through his rear-view mirror, "At least this time it's not the same judges, they never heard the first performance." The redhead said jokingly.
"But they also won't know how much we improved." The singer pointed out dryly, "We have to be perfect tonight, I want to compare to Nittle Grasper for once."
Sullivan sighed, and stared at the car next to them as the van was pulled into a parking spot, "We worked hard, but it'll never be enough." The youngest of the three tried on an honest, encouraging smile, and failed miserably, "We'll just get up there and perform better than any mere rehearsal."
No one in the van moved or spoke for a few worried moments, before the keenly cheerful voice of Maggie attempted to break the timid mood of her codgers, "C'mon old men!" She cried, "Music awaits creation! You're the Virgil of Aria! Painters of the gloomy and cheerful, fighters and protectors from the villain-ish ASK. All are waiting to see how much you've improved for this upcoming battle. No time for slouching! Hilary! I'll help you with the keyboard if you open these uncooperative doors for me."
So the Virgil of Aria were led forth by their Maecenas.
--
The Key Theo Theatre was much more impressive on the inside than the outside. Many years ago, the second owner had taken the time to add light brown carpeting and repaint the barren walls dusty red, with the intention of making the storage house into a sort of community center. After insulating it and adding air conditioning, people began asking the owner to rent it out for personal events, which gave him even more money to add to his personal project as he wished.
The owner was a short, fat, round Asian man which most just called him Chinese; his business skills were shrewd, but his dealings were kind, and most who met him couldn't help but take a fearful sort of liking to the small man. He had made a living off of a local record store in another state, and since his had been the only one in his boondocks town, he had more than enough money to invest into a charity project.
After realizing that most of the events held there were along the line of weddings and parties, he had installed a stage in the back so that any speakers or entertainment would have an easier time being heard and seen. This was purely for convention, but it resultantly encouraged local bands to gather and begin renting out the place for their mini-concerts.
Thus more money was made, and Su Feng was a very pleased man. He eventually installed seven foot walls to create a separate room and a hallway, leading from the front of his place to the back stage. The doors were changed from the rusting single door on the entrance, to a wide garage door that exposed the greeting room created in the front. Once unlocked, Su Feng's Place was very airy and open, but closed, was an impenetrable fortress.
How Su Feng's Place came across the official name, 'Key Theo Theatre', no one is really sure. Supposedly, there was some sort of joke involving 'the god of keys', that only Su Feng and a friend of his understood.
The well-known business man died a few years before Shane was even born, but he passed ownership of his place to his friend, and the older community made sure that the authoritative but kind man's memory was known.
None of this mattered as the group of teenagers made their way to the front of the Theatre; Maggie was balancing a microphone stand, guitar and a bundle of wires, Shane was carting an amp with more wires, Sullivan was carting another amp with even more wires, and Hilary strugged valiently with a keyboard.
Both Sullivan and Shane had taken their parent's dollies to help, but were having difficulty balancing correctly as both were also trembling uncontrollably.
No one tried to protest as the four went straight passed the small money collection podium, and into the long hallway towards the greeting room's left. The hallway was only about five feet wide, so the group had to walk in single file to fit comfortably.
Shane suddenly whined, breaking their focused silence. "I never thought I'd hate to see this hallway." He complained childishly, "Why was it made so long?"
"Shut it brother." Maggie growled, "All you have to is push." As if to emphasize, the microphone pole slipped from her fingers and hit the floor with a 'thump'.
"Don't bang that up!" Her brother chastised with a touch of fret in his voice, "You'll have to buy me a new one."
Hilary grunted as he tried to shift the surprisingly heavy keyboard under his right arm, "More importantly: don't drop my guitar."
"I get it, I get it; don't drop your uber expensive stuff."
Sullivan snickered before he accidently stumbled when his feet hit his dolly, "Or cheap, depending on how you look at it." He added impishly.
"Quiet back there." Hilary said over his shoulder, "Or we won't even make it backstage."
Despite a few grumbles, and a few attempts from Sullivan to run over Shane's feet, the only problems they had were moving the dollies to fit through the tiny space that ended the hallway, and turned right into the backstage.
After the four found a spot amidst the other gathering groups to lay their things and began organizing wires, a young man came up to them furiously scribbling on a clipboard.
"You just came here." He stated rather than asked, "Band name?"
Shane spoke up for everyone, "Bad Luck."
The man glanced up at each of their faces, before his lips twitched as though he found something amusing, "Says here there should be three of you, who's the fourth?"
The singer paused before he realized he meant Maggie, "Oh, she's just helping set everything up."
The man nodded distractedly, "Got your paper?"
Shane reached in his pocket and pulled out a bright orange sheet with black bold type on the front. "Hmm ... okay. You're set." He scribbled something on the bottom of the paper before handing it back to the dazed boy. "You're up last, tenth. Don't worry, this was done randomly or else you would've been up first." He smiled, "Good luck, and you'll be called when it's your turn."
With that, the man flitted off toward another group that had just come in, leaving a slightly disoriented Shane to make sure that he understood everything that had just been said.
Shane suddenly twitched into a semblance of life, "What did he mean we would've been up first?" he yelled as though his very dignity had been offended.
The three behind him glanced up, and shrugged simultaneously. "He meant we sucked last time." Hilary said matter-of-factly, "Don't get worked up." he added, and continued his attempt to untangle wires.
Shane spun around, face turned red with annoyance, "Don't get worked up? We didn't do that bad!"
"Shut up and help." Sullivan said negligently, focused on his tangled cords, "Ignore him, we have things of importance to focus on."
Bad Luck's apparent front-man grumbled and grabbed an adapter that stuck out randomly from the pile of multicoloured coils.
Life was fine and good for a brief moment as their petty banter ceased, and the four were focused on a common incentive that motivated them all. The same man that had checked them eventually gave all a thirty minute alarm, and the warning to be prepared when one's turn came or else they would be skipped. Yes, existence was good for those busy moments, until the four were interrupted by three; or more accurately, one.
"Oh look. They actually came with their heads held high. I'll have to rectify that."
Shane bit his lip, and fought off the urge to turn and scream and show Taylor a degree of 'scary'. Only Hilary's warning expression gave him the will to resist. Instead he turned, smiled and politely said, "Who are you? Can I help you?"
Taylor wasn't pleased, "Cute." He snarled sarcastically before starting his monolouge, "Just to let you know, we're going to win no matter what." An air of superiority floated around him, further demonstrating that he wanted those he disliked to quiver in fear.
Shane only rolled his eyes, before looking at the two who stood behind his advisory. The blond, that he would later discover to be Mark, waved a hand in a way that said, 'This is all on him, I don't want a part of this', so Shane never once that day said anything against him and Ken. Taylor on the other hand ...
"It's going to be hard to win," Shane stated snidely, "When you're in the process of looosing!" It was becoming more and more difficult to restrain himself from dancing and sticking his tongue out, especially when Droopy Eyes was getting visibly furious.
Taylor began to step forward with the perceptible intention of causing the shorter boy pain, when an unexpected blur ran passed him, and affectionately tackled Shane to the ground.
"SHANE! Neither of you are going to win! It's going to be me and SUPER Nova!"
The tousled singer blinked up at bundle of energy sitting atop him and chewing enthusiastically on a stuffed bunny's ear. "Ryan!" Shane cried happily, and threw himself into a bear-hug around his friend's waist. "I was worried you were going to be all mean and cold and ignoring to me!" He sqealed.
Ryan shook his head and grinned manically, "Never to a friend!" He paused, and waved at Maggie who was watching them out of the corner of her eye as she worked. "Hi! Are these two your new boyfriends?"
Maggie laughed, "Of course not Ryan, they're the band!"
Taylor in the meanwhile, was completely ignored and set neglectfully to the side; he was left to fume and ask how it was possible for him to be so dismissible, and not a one cared in the slightest. He turned and stalked away towards where his band's equipment was.
"Taylor!" Mark called weakly as he chased after one very angry rival. He caught up and tried to set a hand on the shorter's shoulder, and frowned when it was thanklessly knocked off. "Look, scare tactics obviously aren't going to work on this kid." He tried to appease, "I don't know what you're so upset about."
"He insulted me." Taylor growled from deep inside his chest, "No one insults me and gets away with it."
The blond sighed and rolled his eyes, "C'mon, you sound like someone out of a bad suspense novel. Get over whatever your beef is with Shoeman and try to enjoy tonight."
"It's hard to when your own rival doesn't take you seriously."
A low grunt of annoyance left the blond's throat at his companion's thick skull, and unwillingness to calm in a sensible manner. "Maybe he doesn't consider you one, maybe this is all in your own obsessive head."
Taylor stopped in his tracks, his shoulders visibly tense before he turned and studied Mark inside a withering glare. A lesser man would have shrunk back from the poison radiating from his eyes, but Mark only stood stronger, and met the cement glance with his own.
"Get over yourself." Mark ordered, lacking disarray, "There are other things you could be angry about."
Their staring contest held until he realized he possessed no retort, and Taylor merely snorted and continued to his convoluted corner of band supplies, "Where'd Ken go?" The subject desperately needed changed for the singer's sake.
--
"ATTENTION. Entry one, Neon Green, come to the stage. The contest will begin in fifteen minutes or less. Neon Green, you're up."
"Omigod, omigod, omigod it's starting it's starting ..." Shane squealed from on top of one of his amps; his trembling had yet to quit, and the announcement for their impending doom was in no way supporting any form of calm.
"Was he always like this?" Hilary asked Ryan with a somewhat strained smile.
The brown-haired singer grinned as he shook his head, "Nope! Spazzing was up to me. I knew he had it in him! Didn't I say so Teddy?" The pink bunny was held up into the air to receive a view of Shane rocking himself in the fetal position. Teddy's response was unknown to all but Ryan.
Sullivan suddenly cleared his throat, "So when is Nittle Grasper going up?"
"Number two!" Ryan cheered as he held up two fingers.
Shane snapped out of his reverie, "Second? You guys are second?" He whimpered as his panicking worsened.
Ryan snickered, "Better than dead last." he sniggered almost inaudibly, unnoticably and without the other's attention, "But no worries! I'm sure Bad Luck will do fine!" Teddy found a place on his owner's head and nodded his encouragement.
"Easy for you to say." The pink-haired boy mumbled with callowness, and proceeded to pout in a way that only he could and not appear completely foolish.
i
"Attention everyone! Our every two yearly band competition, supported by the ever gracious Key Theo Theatre, will be starting within the next few minutes. So introducing, Neon Green!" /i
A series of loud but polite cheers and applause came from the invisible audience beyond velvet curtains, giving hint of what awaited every one that stood nervous and patient. All were scared, none were unconfident and the idea that they would get the chance to perform next sent an stimulated shudder throughout every band member standing or sitting. Prospects of enchantment and glory undoubtably soared high in everyone's imagination, which served to give the most timid an ego boost large enough to infallibly convince that playing to one's perfection was the only way to go.
Shane and Ryan both calmed considerably as they listened to band number one present themselves. They listened for faults, for fullness of sound, for beats and synchronization. They listened for clarity, melody and words and for every sound possible in order to size the competition and use it for their benefit.
Later, it was said that Neon Green did very well for amateurs who put their souls upon a platter first.
Nittle Grasper went up next, much to Shane's added butterflies fluttering in his uneasy stomach. He also discovered midway, that ASK had been selected to go sixth, and to his dismay, they performed better than a good half of the bands standing that night.
Besides a few dirty glances exchanged between the two, nothing eventful happened besides some wiring problems that were the theater's fault, and whatever excessive thumping might had been in every band member's chests
The audience that had been at the qualification rounds was genuinely surprised when they heard Bad Luck perform. No one expected them to improve so dramatically. Least of all Taylor, whose glare was caught only by Shane when he noticed him peering from the side curtains like a rat from his protective nest. It was then the pink-haired singer realized Taylor truly was to be pitied, and that he wasn't worth the energy in being angry. But there had been more important things to be focusing on: like singing his heart out.
No one was allowed to leave until after the final appearance, so all were restless and restive by the time Bad Luck had finished, and began to scatter as soon as it was announced the competition was done. Afterward, Shane gathered his two companions and Number One Groupie, (Maggie) for a collective pat on the back.
"We did as greatly as is for us!" The singer chirped happily, and danced around as he helped pack their things.
Even Sullivan didn't bother fighting off the titanic grin spreading across his face, "I'd point out that this is only the second time we've done anything public ..."
"Don't bother." Hilary interjected carelessly as he packed his guitar in its case, "We won't listen."
"La di da, spotless display, we did play today of all days!"
Maggie rolled her eyes amidst her work, and as she watched her older brother swing circles around the speakers and amps, "I always knew he was on something."
Bad Luck's guitarist chuckled lightly, "Whatever it is, I'd like some."
Shane stopped his rejoicing and scowled unappreciatively, "Funny." He sarcastically grumbled, and began to load an amp on his dolly.
Sullivan took this opportunity to hesitate after he was finished with his own packing, "Hey, I'll be right back, I need to use the bathroom. Will you get it Hilary? I'll get the rest."
The redhead nodded, before leaning his black case against the wall they had parked against; Sullivan's keyboard sat behind it. He moved to grab the handle of the small cart and began steering it toward the door they had entered in.
"Why did the officials have you bring all this stuff anyway?" Maggie asked as she hoisted once again tangled cords onto her shoulder.
Shane shrugged, "Something about gauging how long it took us to set up ..." His expression demonstrated that he thought it was a silly reason too, especially for a diminutive two hour show. Hilary, Shane and Maggie made small talk about the topic as they went out to their van.
--
"Not bad, considering we met barely three months ago." Mark stated contentedly as he busied himself with packing.
Both Ken and Taylor made offhanded humming sounds of agreement, while stacking sound equipment into two unorganized piles. The three waited until almost all of the other bands had removed themselves to make their own exit.
"Think we'll ever do this again?" Ken inquired pleasently as he lifted his keyboard, seeming nonopposed to the prospect.
Taylor shrugged, before he paused as he saw Bad Luck was leaving with half of their things. "I dunno, wouldn't mind it myself, really." He comment, though it was apparent that he wasn't really paying attention to the conversation.
Mark frowned slightly as he saw Taylor's attention waning. He had learnt that when Taylor fell silent, it meant either he was sick or thinking too hard. Taylor seemed to believe that he was some sort of genius but he was painfully easy to read, and Mark's suspicious instinct was being aroused just enough for him to watch the shorter boy more closely. He couldn't let on that he was being leery though, and decided to play the Ignorant card. "I third it!" He piped cheerfully, "But we need a lot more practice; I'm surprised we made it so far ... successfully."
Ken said some agreeing statement, of which the dark-haired singer completely ignored. He stopped by the exit door, and shifted the speaker currently in his arms, "Hey you guys go ahead, I'll catch up in a minute."
Ken nodded and continued, but Mark stammered in his walking, "Where you going?"
"The crapper." Taylor crudely scowled, set down his load and began his short trek toward the direction of the lavatory.
Neither Mark or Ken noticed that their other band mate never arrived to where he said he was going, because young Ainsworth turned heel and made a beeline to Bad Luck's remaining equipment as soon as the other two were out of his sight.
--
Hilary looked up as he arranged things when he heard much frenzied shuffling around near the front of the van, "What's wrong?"
"Dammit ..." Shane could be heard muttering, "I think I left my microphone inside." He removed himself from the vehicle and waved over his shoulder as he headed back to the Theatre, "I'll be right back!" The singer called, "I'll see what's with Sullivan too!"
"Okay!" The older guitarist responded, and returned to his business.
A few minutes later, Maggie hummed lightly from Hilary's right side, "You know Hilary ..." she started coyly.
The other made a grunting noise in his throat to let her know that he was listening.
"As asshole-ish as Taylor is, his guitarist is really cute."
That was enough to earn a pause, and a turned head from Hilary. Coincidently, ASK's car was across the lot, and Maggie had a perfect view of all three from where she was standing with both side doors wide open. The redhead frowned a bit prudently, "Oh, like I would know." He was obviously not about to agree with her.
The brown-haired girl laughed, and girlishly tugged one of her pigtailed braids, "Guys can tell if another is attractive; that doesn't make it weird."
"Yeah, well if I just randomly said, 'Hey, that guy over there is handsome', it might raise some suspicions." Hilary stood straight and dusted his hands on his jeans, "It's different for a guy." He added pointedly, and began to walk to the opposite side of the van to finish Shane's haphazard handy-work.
Maggie only grinned devilishly, "Well, do you think he's attractive, in a non gay way?"
The older boy leaned forward with his hands on the grey carpeting and stared at her suspiciously, "See, if I say 'no', I'll be accused of not being able to tell the difference between ugly and not." He lifted a finger and shook it at the girl as though scolding her, "But if I say 'yes', that leaves me open for all sorts of unwanted teasing, and you'll probably announce to everyone at school that I think Mark Kurt is cute. Either way, you've backed me into a corner." Hilary smirked suddenly, "Congratulations, you've stumped me for what's the right answer."
The playful one giggled and clapped her hands together at sight of her victory. She had actually managed to confuse him, what fun! "You answered right anyway! You think he's attractive, but your masculinity won't let you say -that- out loud, so you answered in a round-a-bout way." Maggie held up two fingers, "A plus for tricky answers!"
Hilary's face changed to one of confusion as he obviously mulled over his answer again, then he laughed and grinned at the amazingly bouncy girl. "So can we change the sub -- what the?"
Seeing her companion appearing completely bewildered at something over her shoulder, Maggie turned, only to have the same precise reaction. "Strange ..." She stated slowly, "Should we go after him?"
Hilary nodded silently and slammed the van doors closed, before he and Maggie took after the distancing figure that appeared to be a suspiciously fleeing Sullivan.
--
He wasn't sure -why- he was doing it all. In fact, any voice of reason that might have scurried its way into his mind was, and would be promptly ignored. True reason was against him, and his actions were perfectly sustained by his personal logic. What logic was that? It was most likely something unknown and evil lurking within every human that happened to find its way through weak Taylor's weak self-resolution. Deep, deep in his subconscious, he knew perfectly well that his reactions were completely unreasonable, but it hardly mattered. All that was important was that he indulge in every emotion of the moment, and make sure that he was satisfied when something of displeasure came about.
Logic and all of its vexations were pushed aside, especially when he learned that somebody was willing to help him. So when the young man saw a situation set itself up, and saw that his current nemesis was heading to a near-empty warehouse alone, the blackness in his mind began to weave itself into twisted plots. It never once occurred to him to resist the little pricking in his heart that made him hate, and this was the beginning of his downfall.
"Hey, you guys go ahead without me; I want to walk home."
Taylor failed to notice the disapproving glance from Mark. "You sure? I'll walk with you --"
"No. You two go." The unintentional gruffness in his voice surprised both of his mates enough for an brief exchange of expressions.
"See you then." Came the reluctant, conceding dialog from both associates, but their voices were too far away for the inattentive one to take heed.
A response was too much to expect from the thoughtfully distracted Taylor. When the crowded car had driven it's away, Taylor set his eyes on his goal, and set aside any restraints he had on it. Now was the time ...
'Do it now ... or you'll lose your chance ...'
--
TBC ...