Ooopsy, I'm not doing a very good job of updating, am I? Sorry about that!
Disclaimer: yeah right
So Sick
Chapter 8
Lady in Red
The bespectacled girl looked up from the catalogue she was perusing to the ringing bell on the door. Another girl, maybe a year or two younger than herself, with bright green hair, walked into the air-conditioned Caelum Aestas. Posters of various dresses lined the walls and racks of clothing littered the green carpet floor. The girl that just entered the store looked around to the girl behind the counter and smiled politely.
"Hi, I'm Launah, can I help you today?" the girl asked, getting up from behind the register and walking out to meet the new customer.
"Um, yeah actually, you can. See, I have this formal event coming up and I need a dress."
"Well, you came to the right place! Any particular style your looking for?"
"Do you have anything in red?" the girl asked.
Launah tapped her deep lilac lips with her index finger and squinted at the wall.
"Well, there is this one dress I think would be perfect with you skin...yeah. Follow me."
Kiera complied and walked behind her towards the back of the store to a rack of dresses. A sign that said Modern and Contemporary hung overhead. Launah shuffled through the selection and finally pulled out what appeared to be a dyed potato sack.
"Um..." was all Kiera said.
"No?"
"The colour? Yes. The cut? No."
"Hmm, yeah, you're right; not enough something."
"How about something more classic? You know, less trendy."
"Ah, I know what you mean. Over hear."
She beckoned Kiera over to a rack of dresses labeled Elegant. More shuffling and she popped out with a nice ruby toned dress in a more amiable cut. Kiera, however, was not impressed. After shaking her head, she walked over to the rack and searched through the various gowns and pulled out another dress the same colour.
"Oooh, you're right," the salesgirl cooed, carelessly shoving the other dress back on the rack, "that one is perfect! Oh, but is it in you size?"
"I don't know, where's the label?" Kiera responded, checking the collar of the dress for said label.
"Actually, we don't have any on the dresses; it'd ruin the fabric. Instead we stitch the size into the hem on the bottom," she said, looking at the bottom of the skirt for it, "Aha! A small. I think it will work," she said, looking Kiera up and down and nodding, "why don't you try it on though? The dressing rooms are over in the corner."
She left to go help another customer, leaving Kiera to fit the gown. Inside the stall, she pulled her other clothes off and, as gently as if it would tear effortlessly, she slid the dress over her body. She zipped it up, almost contorting her arm the whole way around in the process, and stepped back to look at herself in the mirror. She smiled and turned around a few times. Looks like she'd found a dress.
/t/
"Now Ash, you can't have her removed from the guest list. She fixed up the whole city's transport system; she has a right to be there too."
"No Jak!" one very acrimonious red head screeched, nearly dropping the sack of ice she held up to her bruised and slightly swollen cheek bone, "I will NOT have her at that party! Here and her father can stay home and rot for all I care! Sh–"
"Wait, why are you bringing Samos into this?" Jak interrupted, his brows knit together in confusion.
"Duh stupid! She always brings him to all these events she has to go to!" Ashelin said, rolling her eyes.
"Look, Ashelin: you can't uninvite Kiera to the benefit," Jak continued with a tinge of annoyance at being addressed like he'd been, "She'd know exactly why you did it and would, uh, gloat over it. Yeah. So you see, by keeping her on the list you're really winning the battle of wits. Or whatever you call it."
Ashelin turned from the mirror where she'd been inspecting her face meticulously, mourning the loss of perfection, in her opinion, and faced her blonde boyfriend lounging on the divan. She had to admire the picture they made; he was so handsome and she was gorgeous- a perfect match. She smiled at him and sauntered over to him, making sure her hips were going full swing.
"Maybe you're right Babe," she said with a practiced drawl of seductivity, "I think I'll let her come after all. Besides, she won't have a real date; it'll be a laugh. But right now, let's just concentrate on the problem at hand."
"And that is?" Jak said, smirking at her and raising an emerald brow.
"You and I still have our clothes on," Ashelin said, pouncing onto her boyfriend with the intent to correct this error.
/t/
Torn walked into the kitchen and over to the fridge. Okay, so yeah, he'd just eaten a whole box of these addicting little snack crackers and two huge sports drinks, but his stomach still felt a little bit empty. After all, everyone was telling him he needed to gain weight, why not take advantage of it?
He wrenched open the sleek silver doors to both the fridge and freezer side, and assessed his options. There was the leftover gallon of icecream, a box of popsicles- sugar free of course ("Do you really want to be bouncing around your apartment because of a sugar rush?"), some cups of yogurt, and a bunch of fresh fruit. Torn's eyes darted between the icecream and the fruit. The icecream would taste great, but he didn't really need it. But how was he supposed to gain weight if he ate like a rabbog? His hand went towards the icecream. Then again, if he ate like Krew, he might gain too much weight and get out of shape...
He shut the door to the freezer and grabbed two apples, a grapefruit, and some peaches from the bottom drawer. He grabbed a bunch of bananas on the counter too as he walked back into his bedroom. All around him the house showed signs of the occupant being very bored: Overly clean sinks, spotless windows, brand new light bulbs. There was even a level lying on the bed from his measuring the flatness of its covers. Yeah, he was going crazy.
Torn lay the produce on the mahogany desk parallel to his bed and sat down in the executive chair, its cool, buttery leather feeling too frigid for his bare back. Hunching over away from the back, he booted up his laptop that he'd had sent over to him from his office at HQ. Okay, so technically that was cheating, he wasn't supposed to be working, but it wasn't really work. More like all the things he'd neglected to do for about a month, i.e. check his email. Which he was doing. For three hours now. Really, why did people have to send him so much stuff? Like hair loss solutions. He had too much hair, he didn't need to get any more!
After deleting three such emails, he started on the fruit. He had other problems to deal with besides his follicles lacking or not lacking DHT; he'd promised Kiera he'd go to that dinner thing. Okay, so she'd generously paid him back for that (he still grinned like an imbecile whenever he thought about it) and she'd been right, he did have a tux, but he didn't really like the shoes that went with it. And, it was a dinner and dancing event, as he'd found out when he'd read the e-vite sent to him two weeks earlier, another reason he was dreading the event. I'm sure you've already learned of his apprehensions concerning the fine art of dancing, as we address it rather often. Well, it wasn't just hip-hop he shied away from, it was all types. Ballroom, jazz, mime, interpretive, you name it. And he sucked at them all.
The currently de-dreaded commander stood up and walked back out into the kitchen to throw away the cores and peels of the bushel of fruit he'd just inhaled. He'd decided to let his hair do its own thing for the time being. He secretly had to admit it felt pretty good to let his locks move freely. His icy orbs again darted towards the freezer. It couldn't really hurt if he just had a little bowl of icecream, could it?
When Torn ventured back out into the kitchen to throw away the empty carton a quarter hour later, he still hadn't solved the problem about the shoes. They were so uncomfortably tight he could barely walk. And since he was on house arrest, he couldn't just go to the shoe store and buy a pair either. He walked into his bedroom and over to the closet. It wasn't like he had a whole bunch of shoes. A pair of old trainers, the almost-brand-new black dress shoes (way too shiny to be safe), and his combat boots. Hey...
/k/
"Make me look different."
"Different? How different?"
"Not too different," Kiera answered from the plushy spiral chair she was sitting in to the woman standing behind her wielding shiny scissors, "Maybe some layering or colouring or something."
The tall, almond-eyed woman tapped her temple with the base of her shears and studied Kiera's head.
"I'm thinking shorter. You've got the most perfect bone structure for short hair. It'll be a change, but nothing too drastic."
"Okay, sounds good. I'm putting my head in your hands. Make me look good Sen!"
Both women laughed as Sen lead Kiera over to the sink to wash her hair.
As Kiera had her scalp scrubbed, she chatted about different stuff with the hairdresser. She also casually asked about getting a new colour.
"I honestly don't understand why you'd want to lose this colour," Sen said, fingering Kiera's hair gently with her bejeweled fingers, "I have clients spending the salary of a small country every week for a shade not half as brilliant."
"I don't want a totally different colour, but I would like something to break it up a little," Kiera pointed out.
"But your hair is different greens and blues already."
"Come on, just a few streaks of a darker blue."
Sen raised an eyebrow.
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. I'm sick of looking like a little girl."
"Okay. But I'm only going to make it Semi-permanent. That way if you don't like it, it won't last too long."
Kiera smiled.
"Great."
/t/
Torn stepped out of the shower (doing his signature double take upon exiting the stall) and grabbed a towel (that he'd actually remembered to put onto the warmer built into the wall) so he could dry off. For the moment, he was relaxed despite the ever-present nervousness that he got when he took a shower, because he'd at least solved one of his problems: he no longer was without shoes. But in the back of his mind he knew there was one other issue he had to deal with. What was he going to do at this dinner? (And he specifically requests you do not say "eat").
He and Kiera had kissed, which meant things would be different, there was no getting around that. And that really wasn't necessarily a bad thing. At least now he wouldn't have to act like he only wanted to be her surrogate big brother, especially since he had never thought of her as a "little sister". But was he ready to date her exclusively? He wasn't really sure, to be honest. The truth was, she was five years younger than him, and even if she didn't act her age, she was unavoidable less mature than himself in some areas. Again, not really a bad thing, but she was a minor as well. Plus, how would she be as a girlfriend? What if she went psycho and started bringing him lunch in little paper bags to the office, or alphabetized his sock drawer by colour, or even worse, gave him some embarrassing nick-name like, he didn't know, "Schmoopzie"! He had serious doubts about this, but still, you never can tell. Or even worse, what if she got possessive like Ashelin had? He didn't know if he could handle that again.
Torn finished drying off and through on his clothing as quick as he could- he'd taken much too long philosophying, anyone could've been spying on him. He grabbed another towel and began to squeeze the access water out of his hair with reckless abandon; he really didn't care about split ends like the rest of the females (and probably any male) reading this, he already had great hair (not that he knew this). And what if they did start dating? What would their friends say? Normally, he didn't give an ottsel's ass about what they thought, but would they think he was a sick perv? Come on, any casual person would think that he was desperate and taking advantage of a naive young woman...
Torn slapped his forehead. She was naive. Not Twelve-year-old-girl-hitting-puberty naive, but still naive. That would make things awkward when they...well, not that they would necessarily do that...but even so. No, he could not take advantage of her like that. He looked in the mirror and shook his head at himself, a look of disgust on his face.
"You are one sick pervy soon-to-be-old guy Torn," he told himself gravely.
He through the towel in the hamper and left the marble covered bathroom feeling dirty despite just having washed.
/k/
"Precursors, I'm in love!"
"Me too!"
"You're a genius!"
"I know!"
Kiera and Sen looked at each other through the hand decorated salon mirror, beaming like idiots. Sen had just put the finishing touches on Kiera's new hairdo and both girls were ecstatic.
"Kiera, can I get a picture to show my clients? Please! I promise I won't give it to any modeling agents who will whisk you away to some far off place where they only serve coffee and organic fruit," Sen mock-begged, clasping her hands and crouching down in a squat.
Kiera laughed modestly at the display and shook her new and improved head at the woman's antics.
"I doubt you'll have to worry about that Sen," Kiera said, "but yes, you can take my picture if you really want to."
"Great! Now where did I put that camera? Ah, here it is! Smile!"
Kiera smiled awkwardly; she never did like getting her picture taken. It always made her feel uneasy and shy. The camera shutter clicked and flashed a second later, blinding her temporarily. After she regained some of her vision, she stood up and turned to Sen.
"Now I just need to get a quick manicure and I'll be all set," she said, folding the smock up and placing it on the chair, "Think they can fit me in right now?"
"Sure," Sen replied. Then she quirked a thin brow, "So, who's this guy any ways? He must be pretty special for the girl who never wears make up to get a new 'do and her nails done. It's not Jak is it?"
Kiera looked uneasy yet again.
"No, it's not Jak, but I will admit there might be a new guy in my life; I'm not really sure where we stand on the topic. I didn't get all spiffed up because of him though."
'Liar,' she thought to herself.
Sen looked sceptic.
"Yeah, I believe that. Well, either way, it was great seeing you girl! And you'll knock him off his feet."
"Thanks Sen. Now, where-or should I say who-should I go to?"
"Just pick a seat and they'll get to you. See you around Kiera," Sen answered as she turned to go help another stylist get a rampant blow dryer under control.
Kiera turned towards the long tables where all the different manicurist were set up. There was an open seat next to a darker skinned woman down at the end. She walked to it, her hair feeling much lighter and choppier than usual. She made it to the vacant seat and sat down. The woman she noticed before was picking a colour polish with her own manicurist. Up close, Kiera noticed how beautiful she was, in a very big sort of way. She had a mass of dark glossy hair and the brightest violet eyes she'd ever seen. Her clothes were very trendy and expensive looking, along with the copious amounts of jewelry she had on every inch of skin. She was extremely curvy and very tall. She chatted openly to the woman doing her long nails and seemed very friendly. Kiera liked her right off the bat.
She greeted the manicurist and asked her to do a simple shell coloured paint job. The woman nodded like she understood, but it was hard to tell-she was obviously foreign and Kiera doubted she could even speak much of the language. She glanced over at the woman next to her, who caught her looking and smiled a huge, warm smile.
"Well, hello there! I don't believe we've ever met! I'm Orsellah," she said in a friendly accent that instantly reminded Kiera of Sig.
"Hi, I'm Kiera, nice to meet you," Kiera responded with a smile of her own.
"Well," the woman continued, "It's nice to meet you too Kiera. I saw you come in here girl and I must say, that new hair looks bitchin' on you!"
"Uh, thank you," Kiera responded a bit surprised, "I'm getting rather fond of it myself."
"Well you should be! I wish they could get my hair even close to that colour. Instead I have boring old black. Let me tell you, I have to get this puff,"she pointed to the locks brushing her shoulders, "relaxed every month!"
"Yeah, but at least yours is naturally thick and curly. I've never, not once, been able to hold a wave in mine for more than ten minutes," Kiera countered.
Orsellah laughed a big belly laugh that shook the bench they were both perched on.
"I like you kid. Say, haven't I seen you somewhere before? What do you do for a living?"
"Well, I'm a mechanic actually. I've been working on the new ports around town for a few weeks now."
"Really?" the woman asked, her violet eyes widening slightly, "Wow. I'd love to know how to fix machines and such. It'd save me a whole lotta cash whenever my zoomer acts up!"
"Hey, bring it to me next time and I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."
"I would, hun, but I'm not from around here," she responded with a doleful shrug.
"For real? Where are you from?" Kiera asked curiously. It wasn't very often she met people from out of town.
"I'm from Haven originally, but I moved up North a while back," she said, "to Fridgidus."
Now it was Kiera's turn to widen her eyes.
"No way, you really live all the way up there? Wow, we barely ever get anyone to contact us from the city, let alone visit! Why are you all the way down here?"
"Well, for work actually. You see, I dance," then catching Kiera's expression, she added, "Professionally. And sing too. I've had moderate success back home and came here to film a video."
The way she said it, Orsellah didn't sound conceited at all; she was just telling the truth. In all honesty, she didn't seem to think her career was anymore glamourous than Kiera's.
Despite her casual approach to it, Kiera was still impressed.
"Cool! I always thought that would be a fun job! I love to dance on the weekends myself. So, how long until you head back to Fridgidus?"
"I don't know, a few weeks. At least until we get enough footage to put a entire video together," Orsellah said with a shrug, "That's why I'm here actually, to get done up for shooting tonight. Then tomorrow I have to come back again for a new style."
"Yeah, I'm here for this dinner thing I have to go to tomorrow," Kiera said, blowing on the hand that had just been polished, "I'm not too sure what it's about to tell you the truth."
"Dinner thing? Hey, it isn't at some Celestial Hall place is it?" the other woman asked with a surprised look.
"Yeah actually, I think it is. Don't tell me you're invited too? You're kidding me?"
They both started laughing now. When they finished, Orsellah said, "Yeah, a friend of mine is one of the guys behind the curtain, you know, a techie. He heard I was in town and asked me to drop by. Nice guy, very flamboyant, if you catch my drift."
They both laughed again then continued to converse about how weird the people they knew tended to be and the latest oral care available in their respective homes.
/an/
Jeez, I am so sorry guys! I really didn't mean to go so long without updating, but you know how the summer goes: it seems like just a week ago I was finally finishing Driver's Ed and now I have my permit! So I made this chapter extra long as a sucky apology! Sorry!
-mecca-dog