Yo!... I know, I know, I've seriously been neglecting this story… I feel horrible……….The Stupid Writer's Block is swallowing me whole here!... Alright.. Exams are next week so… teachers are just plain cruel… Thanks for all the reviews, guys!
Armani Jeans is just all these short episodie-parts of a fic. I couldn't resist the silliness of it all.
.:. Chapter Four: Armani Jeans .:.
"Tenace! Watch your back!" A red-haired boy cried out. His face was half-burnt with ashes. His ruby red eyes, struck with concern and frustration, Brick warned his younger brother.
"Watch it, Butch. I'm not gonna save your ass every time, y'know." Brick grinned to himself, he was getting used to the Telekinesis already.
The boy known as Tenace, was thrown against the wall due to impact. His forest green eyes halfway open, Butch gave his red-haired brother a rude hand gesture.
Brick chuckled. "It's not my fault I keep on beating ya, Butch." A spiral of fire started to trace around Brick's body.
"No fair, Brick. You got fire and telekinesis? That sucks!" Butch got up and rubbed the dirt off his black jeans.
"Well, you're an Earth boy, just not used to your powers yet, I guess." Brick shrugged.
A dark blue beam whizzed down at light speed, a glimpse of golden blonde hair visible. It halted in mid-air of the "white room", as they liked to call it, a place especially for their training and battle simulations.
"You have been practicing, right?" Brick asked Butch.
"Er…Um…Hehe…" Butch gave his older brother a sheepish grin.
Brick groaned. "I thought I told you and Boomer to practice here every night!"
"I am practicing! Butch is lazy!" Boomer floated to the floor. "Plus, this energy stuff is so easy." His hand reached out, snapping his fingers, newly formed sapphire blue energy balls changing sizes, different power surges and patterns.
"See, Butch?" Brick said, his tone now more calm than angry.
Butch sighed, his family was always pressurizing on him and his powers. It was always like this. No doubt, they came much later than the others, but he hasn't been able to control it like Brick did his. It also wasn't just for powers. From his grades, his school, his friends, his life, his everything!
It's not fair…
His forest-eyes looked down; he didn't want to be a failure…He didn't want to disappoint his mother…
A blonde boy puffed out his cheeks as he stepped out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist. He grabbed a loose white tee near his clothes and slipped it on.
He looked at the mirror in front of him. His hair was a mess, but thankfully cleansed for the first time. His eyes switched to his toothbrush.
Knock Knock.
"Whad?" Boomer asked, the toothbrush and toothpaste now in his mouth. The door flew open. Two familiar voices racked in the background.
"Hurry Up, Boomer!" Brick called from outside.
"5 minutes, Ok? Don't get your boxers twisted!" Boomer replied, gazing deeply into his mirror as he started to gel his monstrous hair to perfection.
Boomer loved making himself look good; from the hair, to the clothes, to the shoes, even to his perfume. He was actually more of a guy-next-door type of person, who would indeed; injure anyone who questioned his looks.
Butch was the wild, boisterous, impulsive one. He was always the first one to get into a fight, a big rebel to his brothers, especially when it comes to Brick's orders, but he obeys them anyway. Lord knows what type of blackmail Brick has up his sleeve.
Brick, the red-head, although the proud leader as he sees himself, he had quite a temper. He too, was impulsive, but can also be calm and cool-headed when he wanted to be. He has this racking problem with Butch rebelling against his orders, and he often gets into huge fights with him.
The blonde boy stepped out of the bathroom, slipping on his dark blue basketball jersey, a black hoodie jacket over it with 'BooM!' on the back in white block letters. He looked around his wardrobe, scavenging for a pair of trousers.
"Butch, I need to borrow your black jeans." He stated.
"No. But maybe if you can find it." Butch replied with a chuckle. "Try my cupboard."
"Oh…kay." Boomer opened Butch's cupboard, which was undoubtedly the messiest thing he had ever seen in his life. "Good God…"
Boomer playfully pegged his nose with his fingers. "Hmm…Gym Clothes, Shirt, Boxers…Three-Quarters, Clean Socks, Dirty Socks, Ta—Hey! I've been looking for this! It's mine!" Boomer's long-sleeved white shirt was in there. "This is Brick's bandana, by the way. He's gonna kill you—Lord, it's like a lost and found in here!"
"Y'know what? I'll just take the three-quarters."
Butch rolled his eyes and helped Boomer rummage through his cupboard.
"Hey? Where are those jeans?" Butch asked, looking around the room in thought. "They're Armani!"
Brick stepped out of the bathroom, whistling, shutting the door behind him. He opened his cupboard, finding a mirror there.
"Hey, Brick. Have you seen my black jeans?" Butch asked.
"Which one? You've got like…4 pairs."
"The Armani ones I bought in Spain. And no, I've got five." He assured.
"Armani?" Brick asked in an incredulous tone. "I'm wearing them today and they aren't yours. I found them in my laundry basket, so I suppose it's mine. I don't even know how much clothes we have anyway."
"Oh." Butch replied, Brick continued whistling. "Shit. And they cost a hell lot as well."
"Brick, stop lying to Butch and please give him his jeans back." Boomer reasoned, after a pause.
Brick glared at him.
Boomer mouthed 'Thief' to his red-head brother. Brick was already on the verge of giving Boomer a rather rude hand gesture.
"Boomer, stop this nonsense. We're already late, Butch I don't have your jeans." Brick said.
He's a good actor… Boomer thought. He just wants to wear something with a top label today…Pfft..
"I heard that!" Brick's voice echoed through his mind.
"Who's with my jeans? I want them now!" Butch threatened.
Boomer cast a knowing look at Brick. Everyone knew that Butch can most of the time be an easy-going person. But when you get him irritated, just don't do anything rash. You might live.
Brick shrugged. "Try and find it tomorrow when they're sorting the laundry." He said casually.
Butch's eyes narrowed. "I might find it now." He looked around. "I think it's in your cupboard, Brick. Can I check?"
Brick started to worry. His plan was foiling! Slowly, after much thought, he nodded. "Let me pull out my shirt first." Brick fiddled with his wardrobe, finding his dark red shirt, a hue matching his eyes, on a hanger.
He gave way to Butch, and went down to the laundry to check for something clean.
Butch started humming the 'Mission Impossible' tune, rummaging through every bit of Brick's spotless wardrobe.
Boomer shrugged and slipped on the ¾ jeans, a pair of white ankle socks and navy-and-white nike sneakers.
The ruby-eyed ruff came through the door again, his hair combed and once again held by a red rubber, fit through a red signature cap. He wore his long-sleeved dark red shirt, left unbuttoned, with silver cufflinks at the wrists. Under it, he wore a casual white sleeveless top. Lastly, a pair of light faded jeans, torn at the knees and sneakers.
"Found it yet?" Brick leaned coolly against the wall, hands in pockets.
Butch shook his head. "I'll find it later." He gave up, flopping back on his bed.
Boomer smiled at Brick from the corner.
"Boomer, I hate you."
I hate you too, dear brother, the blonde boy replied, a smug grin on his face.
"Foil my plans again, and I'll snap your head off your spinal cord."
His blonde brother laughed to himself. I love doing this to my brothers. He was lucky though, Brick didn't hear him that time.
That is Chapter Four my dear, readers! ;D I love messing with Butch like this! Sorry for the incredibly long wait… Take Care! Oh…and please review! Please, please, please? ;)
-Bloo Chocolate-