Title: Our First Noel
Authoress: Ladya C. Maxine
Rating: T
Summary: see chapter one
Warnings: see chapter one
Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade or any of its characters. Any and all unrecognizable characters belong solely to me and are not to be touched. I am not making any money off of this and I write with the sole intent to entertain.
A/N: even though the series is Japanese, in my stories the characters always speak English, unless stated otherwise. Why don't they speak Japanese on a daily basis? Hey, if the dubbed versions of anime can get away with it, then so can I!
Oh, and sorry for the not so original chapter title. I didn't have time to integrate anything into the story so I just went with the obvious.
There are the people who spend their entire afternoons cutting out coupons for the grocery stores because they don't want to actually spend twelve dollars on food. Then there are people who audition for Idols but only end up humiliating themselves in front of the entire world. After them are the fan girls who write us and send us their address and phone number in the event that we 'happen to be in their neighborhood', and genuinely expect us to just swing by any day now. And then, fully at the bottom, are the people who are willing to stoop so low as to put a personal add in the papers in hopes of a date.
And then there's me. I'm so low on the social ladder that I'm subterranean. Picture a little, lonely neko-jin sitting on the curb with a 'Will wash windshield for Kai' cardboard sign and a beaten old metal cup that contains two pennies, three bottle caps and a brass button that clack pitifully as I shake it. When you can easily imagine such a scene then you know things are not going your way.
Christmas is depressing.
"I love Christmas!"
But that's just my opinion. One that is obviously not valued since no one here seems to care that I look like I'm a cat about to be led in to be humanely euthanized, with the prospect of spending eternity in Heaven with Mariah as my eternal keeper. One little hint that that's really my fate and I'm going to kill someone, therefore getting me a one-way trip straight down into Hell. Then again, will killing Hillary be considered bad? She's Satan's scary older sister who picks on him and makes him clean her room, after all.
"There's so much to choose from," says the she-Devil, then shouts as if she isn't already naturally loud. "Do any of you know what you're gonna order? We all have to know what we want to order when the waiter comes so that he can write it down and have the chefs prepare our meals."
No! Is that what waiters are there for? I used to marvel at how they always brought me the food I wanted after disappearing through The Doors, but it's all so clear now. You know, it probably isn't just coincidence that these people are called waiters; they are paid to wait on us customers. Why let them slack off on the job by being so cooperative? Honestly, is she really the brightest in her class? I like Ms. Kincaid, but if this is her best student…
(A/N: To those who may be wondering, Ms. Kincaid was a character from V-force; she was Tyson, Hillary and Kenny's teacher in school. I don't know her Japanese name, but Kincaid was the name given to her in the English dub.)
"I'm taking a plain salad. I have a Christmas concert coming up and I don't dare ruin my figure, not that I ever can anyway since I don't really have to work out to keep in such awesome shape, but it would be bad publicity; I'd be horrified if anyone from the press caught me with a bar of chocolate or French fries. Do they have fat free dressing? And only water to drink; soda makes you break out. And I want the Yogurt 'n Fruit dessert, without the yogurt. Are the utensils here cleaned with mineral water? I can't possibly eat with anything that has been washed in just tap water. Do they have low-fat mineral water here that I can drink?"
That's Ming Ming, but feel free to use my terribly creative name for the pop princess: Nag Nag. I'm surprised she hasn't gone to the Japanese government and demand they filter the air over Japan because it's clogging up her pores, though I did see her talking rather whiningly on her glitter splattered cell phone while looking at the exhaust coming out of a bus that had passed us by earlier. If all busses are suddenly boycott I know who to point out to the angry bus drivers. And I will not be ashamed to do so. And can someone tell me where on earth she expects the restaurant to find low-fat mineral water? Coming to think of it…low-fat mineral water? Low-fat water? That's like ordering the world's most delicious hamburger without the beef patty.
Someone should ask the chief if that is even possible but he's too busy making notes for our favourite bratty female bluenette. Now he's promising to look up 99.5 watts light bulbs because 100 watts burns her delicate skin and 99 watts don't exist, according to Nag Nag, to which Kenny readily agrees. My opinion on him lessens by the minute. I'll be pretending that I don't know him by the time we are done here, you just wait and see.
"What about you guys?" Demona, a.k.a. Hillary, turns to the others though Nag Nag is still going on; why is she looking at the waiters? Are they damaging her precious retina with their bright yellow shirts? Laugh all you want but if you'd gone through an entire day in Nag Nag's company you'd know I am being totally serious here.
"Anything, as long as it isn't seafood," Garland says, ignoring his whiny team mate with seasoned ease and that family honour baloney he keeps going on about. He and Robert should get together; they can spend hours upon hours of fun talking all about the fascinating histories of their families. Sarcasm, in case you think me to be serious. "What about you, Brooklyn?"
"Vegetarian menu."
"Wha? Aw, man, you're a vegetarian, Brook? Bummer."
The teal-eyed prodigy smiles over the menu at Tyson who is sitting opposite him. Yes, people, you two were once bitter enemies but then one of you helped the other out of his apocalyptic depression and now you are good friends. Can we please move on to something other than Tyson's great people skills 'cause quite frankly I'm so 'choked up' about it that I want to puke. Again. Without the help of Crappy Cups even. Yeah, all this friendship air really is that nauseating. Bet you five bucks they're going to make some sort of special speech to one another about how much they valued each other's friendship before the night is over. And this is going to be a long night so I am feeling pretty confident.
"I beg to differ. Knowing that I am not inflicting any harm upon earth's creatures is very rewarding. It is not in my nature to accept something that cost a poor animal its life."
"Like your leather shoes and trench coat?" Rick slurs, resting his head sloppily on one palm. Like me, he has no doubt grown weary of this team. Unlike me, he can get away with saying things like that. That would be too un-polite and rude for goody two shoes Ray.
Almost all the guys at the table crack up at the American's slight while the girls shake their head and tell them off for making fun of someone as friendly and sweet as Brooklyn. Which is ubber-unfair since everyone had a laughed at me yesterday! I've been around for three years! Doesn't that give me any privileges? Being the perfectly friendly and sweet guy that he is, Brooklyn merely smiles at Rick's remark. Rick has actually made a good point and you'd think, what the way he preaches on and on about nature and the circle of life, he'd be panicking and ripping off his shoes and running to the coat rack to destroy his trench coat as well, but Brooklyn is like one of those jigsaw puzzles you buy in a garage sale: You get home, start working on it and find out that over half the pieces are missing and that there are some pieces there that don't even belong. In layman's term, he's just messed up.
A guy can only smile so much before people start to get suspicious. There are two classified types of 'happy' guys: the 'happy' ones like me and Mystel (if he moves his chair any closer he'll be sitting in Garland's lap) and the ones like Brooklyn who are literally happy. Always smiling and seeing the bright side of things and stopping to smell the roses or tulips or whatever flower he finds. There's probably a rare, hidden flower in the middle of Alaska that he's already found and sniffed. Unless he goes all King of Darkness on us. However, as I've been hinting for the past couple of days, there may be yet another side of Brooklyn that no one else seems to be aware of. Yes, yet another side. He's like one of those Rubik's cube (most likely from the same garage that sold you that faulty jigsaw). I've been dropping hints about that for a few days now…and I will continue to do so until the time is right. Hey, I'm currently going through a mid-life crisis at the age of sixteen; allow me this brief pleasure.
Leaving Brooklyn and Rick, who is such a carnivore that their debate will continue for many hours, I look over our rather large table. Nag Nag is still going at it while poor Kenny has developed writer's cramp in his right hand and is now sloppily dotting down complaint number 209 with his left. The Americans are busy discussing something concerning something I really don't give a fiddler's fart about. Same goes for Tyson, Daichi and Miguel. The other three members of team BEGA are just not interesting to listen to period; Garland's all regal, Mystel's all flaming and Crusher is all muscle and no vocabulary, unless he's talking to Monica, but she is seated with the rest of the girls starting to my immediate left. And on my right…
He really should wear that red sleeveless top more often. It brings out the colour of his eyes, not to mention it hugs his torso like a wet glove. On anyone else it would have looked desperate, even slutty, but on him it just says: "I'm perfection. Kneel before me!" And oh, am I willing to kneel before him…Wonder if I could bring him to an orgasm if I ran my tongue over his--
"You must be very hungry, Ray-ray. You're drooling on your menu!"
There goes my beautiful erotic fantasy! Come back! Don't go! Noooo! Grrrrrr. Perfect timing, Mariah. Can't you see that I was enjoying a highly private make-out session with Kai and certain parts of his anatomy? How would you like it if I…Hand! Move that hand!
But Mariah, sitting on my left, can't read minds so she keeps her hand right where it is, namely on my knee. And, just to make sure that I don't feel too lonely sitting here amongst twenty-one other teens, her right knee is touching my left knee too. What, are we playing Twister or something? Right hand, Ray's left knee. Right knee, Ray's left knee… Ray's mouth, Kai's…Hey, my fantasy has returned to me.
"Let's order already! I'm so hungry I can eat a rotting dead elephant!"
Thanks for stopping by again, fantasy. I hope to see you soon. Send me a postcard for New Years.
"You've decided already?" Hillary asks, at Tyson with a disbelieving look. "You usually take an hour just to pick something!"
"Not when I'm hungry."
Let me take this moment to bring you guys up to speed to this strange little setting you find yourself in. We, all 22 bladers (well, 20 bladers plus Hillary and Monica) currently residing in Granger Ghetto (a.k.a. the dojo), are seated at a long table that had been hurriedly pushed together to accommodate us by the restaurant's staff. It had taken them some time to get it ready. If they think that that had been exhausting just wait until they start taking our orders. Scratch that. Just wait until they start taking Tyson's orders. Oh, here comes the sucker, I mean waiter, now.
"And what will you be having?" smiles a friendly looking bloke who won't be so friendly for long. Another bet? Sure. Five bucks says that he'll be in tears by desert. Who knows; if I win these bets I can use the money to get myself a life.
Though to our guests it may seem strange, we, the Bladebreakers, all turn to Tyson. It is usually a good idea to let him go first. If he doesn't scare off the waiters, nothing will. If he does, which has happened before, there is a lovely Chinese restaurant just down the road I've been dying to visit.
"Hmm," Tyson ponders, scanning through his entire menu. Nodding seriously, he hands it back to the guy. "Alright."
Aha, an uncertain look. This one's going down.
"And…what will you be having?"
"Just give me one serving of everything on the menu."
A twitch of an eyebrow. He isn't the only one in shock. We Bladebreakers don't even blink at the order but the rest are gaping. Even Tala, the Ice Prince, raises both brows from where he is elegantly (more on that later) sitting next to Kai, who is still wearing that mouth watering shirt. My initial fantasy is gone, but it has made room for more and they are beginning to spawn even as our condemned waiter speaks.
"Everything on the menu?" he gulps, realizing that he has stepped into it big time and will be dragging his co-workers down with him. Someone isn't going to be voted Employee of the Month for quite some time…
"Yeah, I'll order seconds later."
Man, that guy is really sweating. Yuck. I hope he isn't going to be serving my food. I'm kinda partial to having someone's perspiration dripping into my noodles. Trembling, he moves on to Max, who sympathetically orders the chicken kebabs with some rise and mayonnaise. What's with the mayonnaise? I'd ask, if I cared. I don't. Get over it.
Waiting for the waiter to reach me, which will take some time since he has to take down the girls, who are all sitting next to each other, I drift off, trying not to whimper when I feel Mariah's hand 'inconspicuously' slide a bit further up my leg. Dear lord, I'm being sexually molested in public! And it isn't even by Kai! I swear, he can slam me down on this very table and do me in Nag Nag's salad and I'd be too ecstatic to even pretend to be ashamed. Sadly, he doesn't seem to be considering it, or even paying me any attention. So what's a guy to do while he waits for the victim, I mean waiter, to reach him? I suppose I can just tell you how lovely my day has been so far.
Nothing of great interest happened today, unless you count Kenny and Emily almost coming to blows (well, Emily at least) during a heated argument about which is the most interesting word. Yes, the most interesting word. Kenny swears its 'socks'. Great minds really do work in mysterious ways. Emily believes its 'floccinaucinihilipilification'. Now, how on earth can I remember that tongue twister when I can't even recall where I hid all those secret photos I took of Kai? If you think great minds work in mysterious ways chew on this; my half-baked cranium works in such a mysterious way that I don't understand what it is I think about. My mind is like a black hole within a black hole. Unless it's fantasizing about Kai; I rule in that universe. By the way, the photos thing stays between me and you, okay? It cost me many scrapes and about half a litre of blood to scale that wall covered in roses, but boy was it worth it! Kai in swimming trunks, wet swimming trunks, is a beautiful thing.
The two nerds seriously debating on the greatness of their candidate words hadn't really broken in the day. After our reunion yesterday everyone had headed back to the dojo and our guests had been ushered to bed to sleep off some serious jetlag while we, the host, helped fix up the place for our sudden onslaught of fellow Christmas-goers. Sadly, China isn't that far from Japan as far as time-zones are concerned. I had been mid-way in helping Hiro move a heavy table into the dining room to replace the smaller one when I was grabbed by the arm and dragged off by the girl who I know regret saving from the neighbourhood bullies when we were kids. Guess what was on her mind? Without Lee to keep her (a bit) in line, since he had gone to bed too, for which I now hate him, she had thought it a perfect chance to…re-familiarize ourselves with each other. What I wouldn't give for a brain-swab. I feel so violated.
"You alright, Ray?" Lee, sitting on my other side, asks me.
No. I'm gay, your little sister touched me in bad places while you were sleeping and is currently defiling my thigh. Not to mention that she finished off the last of my chocolates just before we left the dojo. Pick up on the signals, Lee! You're supposed to be my best friend.
"I just can't believe your here."
Way to throw it out there, Ray.
Lee grins, taking a sip of his soda.
"We almost didn't come, but Hillary pleaded and begged until we agreed."
I try to use my newly discovered telekinetic powers to unscrew the bolts keeping that very heavy chandelier hanging right above Hillary but it kinda doesn't work, as you may have guessed. And Mariah's hand has shifted another inch. And is slowly moving inwards…That's it. She's going to rape me. I'm going to lose my virginity to my best friend's baby sister just a few feet from the only person who's hand I want massaging my thigh. I've felt his hands on my skin before and if that had only been an innocent back rub I'd injure other body parts so that he'd hopefully use those magical hands to rub the pain away.
I know you're all dying to know what's the deal between Kai and me. Let me tell you, if I thought I'd ticked him off by regurgitating on his boots then I think he's pretty much pissed off now. He gave me those nice chocolates despite my unsanitary expulsion to show that no harm had been done, only to see those same chocolates being dealt out by my 'girlfriend' to everyone else. While his guests from Russia slept (turns out that they will be staying in his room, to which he did not object when told by Hillary) Kai had wandered off yesterday and no one saw him till this morning when he, Tala and Bryan had come down from his room.
I mentioned Tala earlier and I think it's about time I share with you. And by share I mean tell you spiteful things about a cold-hearted, arrogant, unfriendly jerk. Forget that little glitch in his system that had made his face tweak into a smile when Tyson beat him in our first world championship. Forget the fact that he acknowledged the existence of the rest of mankind during the last world championship. Tala is, beyond reasonable doubt (as well as mine), the most…not nice person I've ever met! I really have to spend a few more neurons on thinking up meaner things to call him.
But don't take it from me; just look at him now. He is definitely not the strong-silent type like Kai and between the three of them he does the most talking. And I mean between the three of them. He hasn't said a single word to anyone else, with the exception of Papa G and Bruce, to whom he says "good morning", "good night", "no" and "not interested". Tyson claims to have heard him say "what the hell is that?" in the living room this morning; I don't have the heart to tell him that Tala had been looking at a baby photo of his on the wall. Next to these few choice phrases, which he somehow manages to use to answer every question thrown his way, no matter the context, when he does speak in our presence he does so in Russian. Who is he trying to kid? We all know he can speak English; he usually spends two-thirds of his matches bragging about how strong and great he is in perfect English. If there is one thing worse than a silent, evil guy it's a talk-active evil guy because he'll tell you exactly what he thinks, which are usually things you don't want to hear, especially from him. Tala takes this to yet another level since he doesn't even tell us what he thinks of us. Instead he shares it with his fellow Russians. I know he does because he'd look at one of us, say something in Russian to the other two and then all three of them smirk or even chuckle. I caught him doing that to me this afternoon. Not that he cared; he had the nerve to glare at me and get all offended that I had been 'eavesdropping', never mind the fact that we had all been in the backyard which is, the last time I checked, public property to all those staying at the dojo.
Even worse than Tala (yes, there is such a thing) is the psycho he decided to drag along from the wilderness of Russia's most savage forests. Though I haven't mentioned it for a while, remember Woody, our possessed Christmas tree that I fear and loath from the bottom of my little kitty heart? It is afraid of Bryan. The guy took one step towards it and now Woody is short several handfuls of pine needles; apparently, trees don't wet themselves, they shed themselves. If Woody is to sprout legs and make a run for it it would be the first streaking flora. I'd laugh and point, but chances are I'd be running along side it. Probably even pass it because if Bryan, who hadn't even stop to admire our tree decorating skills, could do that to a plant I am rather unsettled at what he could do to me. Since that shrub-killing grin yesterday the guy has been stalking me! Well, maybe not stalking as in following me everywhere, as he's content with hanging around Kai and Tala, but he makes sure to remind me that he's watching me by giving me a certain look every time our paths cross. And I have absolutely no idea why! I battled this guy one time; being shredded to pieces by air left little room to discuss hobbies and favourite movies with him. I don't even want to know his favourite movies. Something tells me they are all of the gory horror films that have the viewers stumbling up the aisles to rush to the bathroom to chuck up their popcorn. Bryan's probably the guy who sits there, happily stuffing his face and laughing as a sobbing woman and her baby are disembowelled.
What's that? Our waiter has suffered a nervous breakdown? Ha, you owe me five bucks! Tyson decided to order seconds anyway, but with a little twist, adding several platters together at such a speed that the poor guy just couldn't keep up. If you can't take the heat get out of the kitchen! That didn't sound so impressive since waiters aren't actually in the kitchen. As you can see I am not in the right mood for--Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhhh!
Mariah's hand reaching No Girl land! Shit, I was so absorbed in psycho analyzing our amiable Russian guests that I had not noticed that hand slowly make its way up to, well, I'm a guy, take a guess just where it is now. Since when did Mariah become so frisky? Didn't her parents tell her it is not considered polite to grope your former team mate at the dinner table? That has got to be unhygienic. Not that I don't bathe, I'm the reason why we usually have high water bills at the dojo, but a hand job during dinner, with all your friends, during the holiest of all Christian holidays just doesn't rank very high on my Morally Correct list, which is actually befitting since Mariah has always ranked dead last on that same list.
"What's wrong, Ray?" Max, having seen me jump in my seat and my wide-eyed horrified expression, asks. Is there anyone present who can interpret the obvious signs of distress of a violated neko-jin? "Ants in your pants?"
That's one way of putting it; I am being attacked by a pest.
"Bit my tongue," I lie one of my lamest lies. This one is specifically horrible because of the tiny fact that I am not even eating anything. So it only makes sense that everyone accepts it and goes back to their conversations. What, had you expected a normal reaction from this bunch?
Beside me I hear Mariah giggle softly and am extremely relieved, or as relieved I can be when around her, that this table has five layers of table cloths which graciously hide what Mariah's idle hand is doing in my lap. Trying to be all cool and collected about it, whereas I am near hysterical on the inside, I take a hold of her wrist and try to pull her hand away like a boyfriend who just isn't in the mood. Why do I keep up the whole boyfriend-girlfriend sham? Some mysteries are not meant to be solved. Mariah, on the other hand (no pun intended), merely winks and refuses to be budge. Look, it's not that Mariah is ugly or anything, but she could be a Pamela Anderson look-a-like with a fetish for nudism on a trampoline and it wouldn't do diddly squat to me. That, and the fact that she is utterly annoying.
Physical force is not working. If anything she seems even more determined to get me off right here, right now. In cases like these I have a secret back-up emergency solution. It is normally hidden way in the deepest recess of my brain, allowing me to dream about you-know-who, but when the situation arises where I am cornered by a horny female neko-jin it just inflates like an airbag.
"I have to go to the restroom."
I said I had a back-up plan. I never said it was out-of-this-world amazing.
"That was quick," she smiles slyly, blushing ever so slightly. "I knew you liked it."
Don't kid yourself.
"I'll save your seat, Ray."
"…Thanks." Bless her soul, cause who knows what type of random stranger would have ran over the moment I was gone and grabbed my chair and sat down amongst a group of (im)perfect strangers just to annoy me.
"Where are you going?" Hillary asks as I stand. "The food will be here any minute!"
And unless my food has means of transportation I expect it to still be here when I get back. Hillary is starting to get weird. Weirder than she was before, that is. Must be all the gas from her empty stomach going to her head.
"I'll be right back," I promise, which seems to put her at ease. I should have laughed evilly and jumped out the window instead, but I'm the designated nice guy. And I am so getting sick of that.
Passing behind Lee, I head to where I remembered seeing the restroom when we had entered. As I do so I can feel three distinct pair of eyes on me, though one, namely Mariah's, is on my butt. She makes me feel like a piece of meat. The second pair of eyes make me feel like I'm dead meat. Hi there, Bryan. Like I said, he leaves me alone when we are all together but the moment one of us passes the other he pins this steely look on me. The final, and most welcomed, pair are those shimmering pools of molten lava, that also go by the common word 'red', belonging to the centre point of impeccable desire, who goes by the name of Sex God, a.k.a. Kai, to anyone whose IQ number consists of two digits. My heart swells since this is the first time he's met my eyes since the chocolate disaster. I almost suffer a heart attack when the warm molten orbs suddenly blaze and Kai abruptly looks away, tuning back in to Tala's latest snide remark concerning Daichi. I'm just guessing there since he's spouting Russian but I've figured out that when Tala looks at someone and his eyes take on that malicious glint it is never a good thing.
Hurt because Kai shunned me so coldly, I shuffle the rest of the way to the restroom, closing the door behind me and blocking out the majority of activities beyond. Wait. Why was I here? I don't have to go. Oh, yes I did. I had to go away from Mariah before she permanently damaged the only proof of my manliness with her botched ministration. Not only is she a girl, but an inept lover too. Most of my squirming and wincing had been out of actual physical discomfort. I'm surprised, and elated, that I still have my little friend. Well, not little, more like…Sorry, I don't discus my package with strangers.
Seeing as I have to convince the rest that I have indeed gone to use the rest room, I lean back against the sink with the intention of waiting for a few minutes before leaving. Nothing really interesting to report on in this restroom except for that tacky mini plastic Christmas tree in the corner near the urinals. Trees aren't know to be all that entertaining but I'm too lazy and down to find something else to look at. I'll just stare for a while…Problem is I grow very bored very quickly. This is usually solved with some good home-grown hentai Kai thoughts but I'm not going to risk getting caught by someone, knowing my luck it would most likely be one of the others, in a restaurant restroom with my pants down and my hand doing a rather intimate limbo with myself. An even more petrifying thought is that Mariah would be under the impression that she had actually turned me on. That would only motivate her even more and to be honest I don't think I can endure any more of her.
Hm, strange. The tree's branches seem to have sagged a bit…
"Caught yourself in your zipper, pussycat?"
It's one thing to intimidate a living organism like a tree, but when one can cause a bogus replica to shrivel up just by entering the room it's high time for a certain neko-jin to make like a tree and leave. Bad pun, I know. Never was really good with those.
"Bryan!"
Why do people do that in a situation like this? No duh the person knows who he or she is; why state the obvious? I shouted his name loud enough that someone passing by the restroom could have heard me. Which, coming to think of it, can be a good thing because they'd be able to give his name to the police later as my body is carried out on a stretcher covered with white sheet and Mariah, who would put on a whole show as she cried her heart out at having her beloved Ray taken away from her. So let's get the events rolling, shall we? Starting with:
"Bryan!"
Whoops. Did that already.
"What…Why…When…"
Bryan's eyes are sharp. Not in the sense of having perfect vision (well, he probably does, being all genetically enhanced and stuff) but they just have this razor-like gleam in them that I happen to find disquieting. Do notice that since the Russian bladers are generally a quiet bunch (meaning when even Tala shuts up) their eyes have been trained to convey their emotions (usually distaste, distinterest or malice). Kai's eyes burn like a flaming inferno when riled up (in a non-sexual sense, though I'd kill to see those same eyes blazing in the heat of passion). Tala's blue orbs can freeze anything from water to the air in my lungs. And Bryan's eyes cut into you like a very painful dagger. A rusted dagger that will leave a nasty slash that will become infected, making you suffer hours of high fever before dying a slow and painful death, to be more precise.
I really should stop drifting off when I'm about to be seriously hurt.
SLAM
That's me high-fiving the tiled wall with my back.
"Ow!"
That's me taking it like a man.
The back of my head hurts from where it struck the unsurprisingly hard wall, since walls are supposed to be hard, keeping up a building and all that. Blinking away the spots, and wishing I could blink away the guy standing right before me, I wince when his fingers dig into my shoulder.
"It's been a while, hasn't it, pussycat?"
I have just caught on that he is putting a bit too much emphasis on the first part of that winning pet name.
"What's wrong with you?" I snap. Don't look so surprise, sheesh! Just because I get all nervous and weak-kneed around Kai doesn't mean that I'm a wimp. And I don't really take kindly to being thrown against walls in restrooms. Lord know what has been splattered on these tiles… "We're here to celebrate, not fight."
"Fight?" he chuckled before jerking me close, getting in my face. "If I had planned on fighting you you'd be laying prone on the floor right about now with your spine protruding through your skull."
…Okay.
"So what do you want?" I ask. Since when had he become so tall? Why do people like him go through multiple growth spurts; they're mean as it is, no need to give them added height advantages.
"I wasn't able to get some alone time with you…"
For which I am eternally grateful.
"…but there's a little matter of payback I want to discuss."
"Payback? For what?"
Did I borrow money from him…? No, plus I'm still paying off the hospital bills from the time this jerk put me there during the championship in Russia. He's got some nerve tossing me around and talking about payback.
"I don't like being beaten in my homeland," Bryan sneers, now using his height and hidden strength to lift me off the floor by the collar of my shirt. "Not without getting retribution."
You can insult my love for cats. You can make fun of the fact that I am terrified of spiders. I won't hold it against you for thinking me pathetic for being so head-over-heels in love with Kai. But you do not, I repeat, do not question my blading skills!
"I beat you fair and square!" I snarl, prying myself free, though it would take me less effort trying to stop the world from turning. "Stop being such a sore loser!"
And you, Ray Kon, do not direct the word 'loser', or anything remotely resembling it, at a teen who just so happens to not give a damn if he will be put on Santa's naughty list for his reply.
Ten minutes later…
"Stomach ache? Oh you poor thing!" coos Mariah.
"That's what happens when you're late for dinner," mumbles Hillary.
"Maybe you still have to throw up," blurts Tyson.
"Throw up?" asks Michael.
"We didn't tell you guys? You should have seen it! Ray ate some candy two days ago and started to vomit all over the floor right in the middle of everyone! It must have been so embarrassing! There were even pieces of waffles floating in--"
"Tyson! We are trying to eat!"
"Hey, it kinda looked like your soup, didn't it, Hillary?"
"Ew! Gross! Stop it!"
...And can we get back to me now?
I truly doubt I'll be vomiting up Crappy Cups but if I don't have some internal bleeding then I'm an even tougher son of a gun than I give myself credit for. All those hours in the gym and hundreds of sit-ups have really paid off. Yeah, I hang around the gym a lot, mainly because Kai hangs around the gym a lot. So my abs are pretty hard, but that doesn't mean that they could repel a fist as it was driven into them. Who would have ever thought that your bellybutton can reach your spine under just the right pressure? I don't really feel so honoured for having been the first one that has happened to, though.
"Here, Ray. Eat some of your food," Mariah says. Shovelling a heap of rice onto my spoon, she holds it out to me. "Smells good, doesn't it? Mmmm. Eat up now and you'll feel all better."
"Not hungry," I manage to groan, clutching my bruised guts and pride.
Mariah pouts.
"Aw, Ray-Ray. Please eat. For me?" she smiles widely, her eyes getting all big and lovey-dovey. "I promise you some 'special desert' when we get back to the dojo if you do…"
Now I've really lost my appetite. I think that this is the perfect time to start fasting.
"If he doesn't want to eat then you shouldn't force him," Lee says, pushing the spoon that she's jabbing my face with away. Thanks a heap, pal. Where have you been for the last, oh, twelve years when I needed you to protect me from Mariah?
"But he wants me to help him, right, Ray-Ray?"
"I'm not actually hungry--"
"See! If I don't feed him he'll starve to death! I can't let my boyfriend die, Lee!" she now shouts, effectively getting the attention of almost the entire restaurant.
"Stop making such a scene," Lee hisses, shooting our neighbouring fellow diners an apologetic look. "Let's just have a quiet meal."
"How can you eat when your best friend is in such pain? Look at him! He's wincing!"
That's because you're screaming right in my ear, 'darling'.
"Uh, heh-heh, maybe you should calm down, Mariah," Mathilda, sitting next to Mariah, says nervously, trying to break up the siblings who were now glaring at each other with long-suffering me in the middle.
Puffing her cheeks angrily, Mariah dramatically turns her head away from Lee, almost whip lashing me with her ponytail and proceeds to skewer her tenderloins with her fork. The rest are silent for many uncomfortable moments while Lee mutters beneath his breath. The only sound at the table is the soft but mocking whispers in Russian coming from the other end. I sink lower into my chair, wishing for a stray sink hole to open up right beneath me. Wait, why should I suffer? Let it take Mariah and we'll all get our Christmas wish earlier than expected.
"Is that Thousand Island dressing on my salad?"
I'm actually relieved to hear Nag Nag whine of a voice since it brings back some life to our group as everyone now turns to her as she prods the plain salad with no small amount of disgust. Kenny is fuming and trying to hail a waiter to report this despicable deed. Putting dressing on Nag Nag's salad. Those sickos! With everyone's attention focused on the Nag Nag's bowl I allow myself a piteous sigh. This evening has turned out to be just freakin wonderful.
In reality, is has, for our…I really don't like calling them guests but I have no choice, guests from Russia. Bryan, having punched me in the guts for back-talking him, vowed that this was not over and that he'd humiliate me as I had humiliated him two years ago before leaving me curled up on the floor. Seeing as no one came to me, I had to force myself up and stagger back to the table, which led to the entire fiasco of Mariah trying to shovel food down my throat. I lied, of course. Yeah, because I'm such a generous guy I'm willing to hide the fact that one of our…guests sucker punched me with the promise for more torture in the near future, just so my friends can enjoy Christmas. Bryan had been calmly sitting when I finally returned. He gave me his usual sharp look, though this time he smirked and I could practically hear him calling me 'pussycat' in his mind. The way he was looking, I think he left out the 'cat' part.
Tala's eyes haven't stopped gleaming wickedly since he first spotted me limping over. Leaning back in his chair, he had looked between me and Bryan, who had returned the stare evenly, and somehow managed to figure out what happened. He most likely knows Bryan well enough to pick up on these things. I had to fist my hands to prevent myself from going over there and giving him a ringing slap when he looked at me with a rather smug expression. For someone who generally ignores me, he sure can grate on my nerves!
Nag Nag is now shouting at the waiter and waving her bowl around while Garland tries to contain her with as much success as Lee had with Mariah, who is still brooding. Hillary is still mad at Tyson for commenting about the similarity between her stew and my stomach contents. Kenny has run off to find Nag Nag another salad. Brooklyn and Rick are still going at it concerning the pros and cons of man-made meat. And I must have missed this while in the bathroom but Michael is glaring at Max as he shields his mayonnaise splattered spare ribs from the blond, who is still trying to pour on more.
So what does Kai have to say about this? Braving Bryan and Tala's smirking stares, I glance over to find that Kai is quietly eating his food, resting on one elbow on the table as he ignores all, including me. The only time he reacts is when Tala says something, to which he either nods or shrugs though Tala, apparently a secretly gifted comedian, has just commented on something (or someone, more likely) and Kai smirks and meets the redhead's eyes. What makes my stomach clench, even more than it already is, is that Tala had looked at me when he had made Kai smirk. Had he said something about me (which was almost certainly not flattering)…and Kai found it amusing?
Well, this evening can not get any worse.
Murphy's Law is in the house! Tyson and Brooklyn have somehow, despite the chaos at the table, managed to begin their good-friends speech. Those sneaky bastards have totally caught me off guard with that stunt. How do they do it? I am seriously puzzled.
Day one of our Special Christmas Get Together is nearing an end (mercifully). Only six days to go...and Kai isn't speaking to me.
This calls for some drastic measures.
Tbc…
Kai and Tala will get more prominent roles in the next chapter, so don't worry. As you all (should) know, I love Tala, but it's always fun to write characters as diverse as possible. Sadly, Mariah will still be there. I honestly never knew how much fun it was to write her as such a clingy brat, though! I should do this more often!
The gang turns their attention now to more Christmassy matters as the most wonderful day of the year draws near. We all know what that means: All Hell will break lose! And just how far will Ray go to redeem himself? Or rather, how far will he get?
Read & Review, please.