Disclaimer: Me: Good morning, afternoon, or evening. I have called this
conference to tell everyone that I do not own the series BeyBlade or any of
the characters. (Or Tootsie Pops . . . you'll see). With that statement
made I will now be taking questions.
Random Reporter # 1: Uh yeah, I was just wondering, um . . . do you own BeyBlade?
Me: (Blinks) (Sighs) (Pulls out shotgun) (Shoots reporter) (Puts shotgun away) Okay, any other questions?
Random Reporter # 2: Yes, is it true that you're strangely paranoid?
Me: (shifty eyes) Sh . . . the pigeons . . . they are in the closet . . . listen! Can you hear them plotting . . . ?
Everyone: (Cricket, cricket)
Author's Note: Hello all! Hm, sorry about the freaky disclaimer, but the pigeons . . . oh never mind. Anyway, this is the next installment to the fic, and I don't have too much to say other than enjoy, feel free to review, and Happy Readings!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter: 1
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"So, this is it then, Rei," Mariah said, stating the all too obvious.
I just nodded my head and flashed her grin. "Yeah, it's looking that way."
She looked a little saddened by our collective revelation. I thought I saw something akin to regret in those eyes of hers, but she knew that we couldn't stay together. The relationship was going too a happy little place that I, so lovingly, call nowhere.
I watched her silently as she slid on her coat and fastened it snugly around her slender, curved form. She sighed as she grabbed her purse and slung the long, thin strap over her shoulder. She then turned to look at me, and I, in turn, looked at her.
We stayed staring at one another for long time, just taking in one another's features, digging up memories from our time together, and listening to the rain that fell so consistently outside. It was only when a particularly discordant rumble of thunder sounded that we snapped out of our individual reveries.
We shook our heads simultaneously and then grinned at each other. Taking the initiative, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her in friendly, brotherly hug. She returned the hug, and we pulled away, but I couldn't help but notice how sad she still looked.
"Hey, cheer up, Mariah. Just because our love life is ending doesn't mean we'll never see each other again," I said reassuringly.
She nodded, that sharp, confident look returning to her eyes. "You're damn straight we'll be seeing each other again, 'cause let's face it Kon, I've got way too much shit on you, and blackmailing is only illegal if ya get caught," she said.
I chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind," I replied.
We hugged again.
"Well, Lee is waiting for me out in the car. You know that we'll be living in the city, and you have our number and the address, right?"
I nodded in confirmation.
"Okay then, keep in touch," she ordered.
I kissed her gently on the cheek. "Count on it," I whispered to her.
With those parting words, and some parting smiles and glances, Mariah walked out of my apartment, closing the door behind her. Right when I heard the door shut, I felt as though a gigantic weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I was free!
I wanted to do a little dance of glee or at least SOMETHING to celebrate my freedom, which had evaded me for an entire year. I supposed I could dance in glee, but my thinking was more, 'why dance in glee in my own apartment when I could dance in glee in public with hundreds of random strangers watching my every gleeful movement?'
My hand darted for the phone before my brain sent the message to do so . . . which is irregular . . .in fact, it's impossible, so it probably didn't happen that way.
The point is that the phone was in my hand, and I was dialing a number. When my fingers had completed the task of pressing the familiar button combination, I held the phone to my ear and listened to the sound of the soft ringing, which played once, twice, thrice, and was picked up on the fourth ring.
"Hello?" came the familiar voice.
"Hey Maxie!" I greeted excitedly.
"Uh, hey Rei, what's goin' on?"
Max sounded a little bewildered by my happier-that-usual tone of voice. I can't say that I blamed him, because I was generally more subdued.
"Nothing," I said.
"Oh, uh . . . 'kay."
I laughed. "Max, I'm FREE!" I exclaimed.
"Mariah left all ready? I thought it would take way longer to move all of her stuff out of your place," Max said matter-of-factly.
I sighed. Why wasn't he as happy as me?
"You almost sound depressed," I told him humorously.
"Nah, I'm happy for ya man, It's just I thought maybe YOU'D be a little more upset about it than you sound. I mean, you and Mariah are close and you were together romantically for an entire year. That's a long time to get attached to someone."
Ah Max, always wearing his heart on his sleeve and thinking of others before himself. It doesn't get much better than him.
I smiled softly. "Mariah and I are better friends than lovers, trust me. In any case, I'm happy being unattached again, it feels really good."
I could practically see Max shrugging his shoulders and rolling those bright, blue eyes of his. I'll be the first to say that, with those big, pouty eyes and that blonde hair, Max is a real cutie. Not to mention he's as friendly and, I'm betting, as cuddly as a puppy.
"So, what DID you call for, Rei?" He asked.
I grinned madly. "I want to celebrate. Let's go out," I said.
"You DO know that it's raining, don't you?" Max asked.
This time I rolled MY eyes. "Well I'm not blind."
"You hate rain."
"Thanks for telling me, I'm sure if you hadn't I'd have forgotten," I replied sarcastically.
I heard him sigh. "All right, all right, let's go out. Where exactly did you have in mind?"
"Dunno, don't care, so long as we get there. I'll swing by at about 7. Is that okay?"
"Yeah, that's cool. You want me to call up the others?" He asked.
I thought about his question. Max was great to go clubbing with, but Tyson was a little . . . eccentric to bring along. Kenny was . . . well he never went with us anyway, and Kai was Kai. In any case, I was in a pretty good mood, so I went ahead and told Max to invite everyone. Shortly there after we ended our phone conversation and I went to my room to change. Something about going clubbing in a pair of gray sweatpants and an old shirt that I could pitch a tent with made me think that altering my current clothing would be a good idea.
Upon entering my bedroom I was pleased to find that it looked almost exactly the way it had BEFORE Mariah had come to live with me. It was as though the entire design had been lying in wait under all of Mariah's frilly pinkness.
Yes, my beloved haven was back to its usual dark color pallet, devoid of any lighter colors that would 'brighten it up'. The bed was no longer covered in a bright, elaborate starburst-looking quilt. That awful thing had been packed away in one of Mariah's many suitcases, and I had my regular navy blue comforter back in its rightful place, on my bed, covering my plain, white sheets, which had also been overridden by pinkness, but now reigned supreme once more.
That braided rug that she had insisted on putting on my soft, navy blue carpeting was gone, along with the god-awful drapes she had hung on my window. The tops of my furniture were no longer cluttered with random decorative things, my closet was free from the dark, evil grip of an over abundance of feminine clothing, and my drawers had been emancipated from numerous accessories.
My room was simple. It was crisp and clean looking, dark and light, yin and yang, just perfect. It just screamed, 'REI'! And let me tell you, it was music to my ears. I think about it now, and just about everything Mariah had in there clashed with what was ALL READY in there. As much as I love her, psychopathic lover of pink doesn't even BEGIN to describe her.
I looked through my wardrobe carefully, as I wanted to choose clothing that projected a certain something. I wanted to give off a certain energy, a magnetic aura, a characteristic that made people turn their heads . . . I wanted to express that . . . heh, that I was TOTALLY available.
With a grin on my face, I grabbed a pair of black pants that sat a little lower on the waist, and left a little something to the imagination, because I figured I liked surprises just as much as the next guy, and who knows, that 'next guy' might be behind me for a reason . . . if ya catch my drift.
I then proceeded to throw on a cashmere shirt that was short sleeved, and extended to the pant line of my black pants, obviously. The shirt was form fitting, accented my curves, showed off a little toned muscle, and was crimson in color, which accentuated my amber colored eyes and dark hair, which I had taken out of the holder and bound in a neat braid.
Lastly, I slid on a pair of black boots and put my wallet into my pocket. I glanced in the mirror and grinned (I seemed to be doing that a lot). Yeah, there was no way this look didn't scream 'nail me'.
I glanced at the clock next to my bed on the nightstand. I still had a half an hour or so before I needed to go pick up Max and the others, and then something hit me . . . a very important something.
I dashed from my room to the kitchen where I grabbed the phone and rapidly dialed Max again. I heard him pick up the phone, but didn't bother to let him greet me. Being the courteous person I was, I greeted HIM first.
"Max, call Kenny!" I shouted.
There was silence on the other end of the phone. ". . . Max?" I asked, this time a little less frantically.
"Rei? Oh, I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you, you weren't YELLING loud enough," he said dryly.
I chuckled and replied, "Smart ass."
"Damn straight. Anyway, I all ready called Kenny and he said he isn't coming, but he is going to drop the IDs by, so don't worry about it." Max assured me.
I took a deep breath. "You're the best, Maxie."
"You tell that to Kenny," replied Max.
"I plan on it. Oh and uh, I was thinkin', could you drive tonight, because I have a feeling that I'm gunna want to be drinking."
Max sighed. "Yeah, I guess I'll drive, but Rei, I am not dragging your drunk ass up three flights of stairs to your apartment again, got it?"
I grinned. "Check! See ya in a few, okay?"
"Right, later."
I hung up the phone and sighed in relief. I would have to thank Kenny later. He and Dizzi could do anything on that laptop, including producing fake IDs for us all, considering we were all sort of under age.
As I waited for Max, I could feel a sort of adrenaline rushing through my veins. I couldn't wait to get to whatever club we were going too. I needed to hear the music that pounded loudly in my head, experience the exciting atmosphere, the endless drone of talking, the smell of sweaty bodies rubbing against each other, and I craved the feel of foreign, lustful eyes raking over my body. I wanted to tease, to flirt, to throw caution to the wind, and eventually land myself in bed with some person I had just met, wake up the next morning with a hangover, get RID of the person I had just met and NEVER see them again for as long as I lived.
I know, I know, it SOUNDS sluttish and maybe it was, but I had been deprived of randomness while being with Mariah. All I wanted was some hard, meaningless sex, and seriously, is that so much to ask for?
I was jerked from my thoughts by the sound of a buzzer, and I quickly got up to answer. I pressed the button on the little speaker and said, "Rei here."
"Come down, come down now, because I'm getting wet, and it's cold, bye."
With those laconically spoken words, Max 'hung up', so to speak, and I was left to grab my leather jacket and head out the door.
When I got downstairs to the lobby of the building I had to stop in my tracks to stare at the pouring rain. It was coming down hard, reminding me of a menagerie of bullets pelting the ground. Blue, stormy light rolled into the dimly lit entryway, and despite the steady beat of the rain outside, it seemed deadly quiet inside.
I looked over to the apartment building's doorman, Sam, an elderly old guy, tall with wise, stone wash blue eyes and dark gray hair that usually stayed hidden under his official doorman hat. He was a kindly man, always willing to talk to people about this and that and whatever else, and he took his job very seriously. At one time I had thought being a doorman was kind of a boring, unfulfilling job, so I asked old Sam about it, and he said simply, "They got to get through me b'fore they can get to you, son." After that I gained a new respect for that man and his job. Anyway, Sam is one of those old guys who has done everything, so he hasn't too many regrets, and seen everything, so it'd be hard to surprise him. He's got great stories, and he's great to listen to when he's off duty and has time to tell them.
Sam was sitting quietly in chair just left of the doorway, paper in hand. His eyes were sharp though and always watching; nothing got by him.
"Evening Mr. Kon," He said in that low, easy tenor.
I sighed. "Hey Sam," I said, "and it's Rei."
He glanced up from his paper, a twinkle in his eye. "Of course, Mr. Kon," he replied.
I rolled my eyes, gently shaking my head. It didn't matter how many times I corrected him, the guy refused to call me anything less formal that 'Mr. Kon' or 'sir' when he was on duty. It was probably just part of his weird, old man, doorman code . . . or something like that. If he was off duty, and I just dropped by to chat with him then he would call me by Rei, or sometimes just 'son'.
"Will you be leaving now, Mr. Kon?" He asked, standing up and setting his paper down on the vacant chair. He walked gracefully over to the door and 'assumed the position'.
"Yes, I'm going out with Max and everyone for a while, so I probably won't be back till late," I replied, adding playfully, "so don't wait up."
He chuckled lightly. "Yes sir. Have a good evening, sir."
Sam pulled open the large, black gates and then pushed open the heavy, oak doors that stood beyond on them.
With the open doors serving as a portal to a very wet outside world, I took a deep breath and stepped beyond the threshold, and I sprinted toward the silver Jaguar that was to be my carriage for the night. I spotted Max's blonde hair in the driver's side, Tyson in the back seat, and an empty passenger's seat in the front, which I assumed was meant for me considering the fact that is was, in obvious respects, devoid of someone else's ass.
My hand grabbed a hold of the car door handle, pulled up, yanked the door open, and I jumped inside, practically slamming the car door once I was safely inside the vehicle. I took a deep breath, and looked at Max who just shook his head.
"If you hadn't of been so eager to go out tonight and celebrate your so called 'freedom' then you wouldn't even of had to 'brave' getting hit by the oh-so-perilous rain," he said, sarcasm dripping from every word.
I scowled at him. "It isn't my fault that Destiny decided Mariah should leave on the exact same day that Fate thought it should rain," I told him, just as sarcastically.
Max just rolled his eyes. "Right," he said.
I grinned while fastening my seatbelt, because well, you know, safety first, and then I looked back at Tyson who smiled at me.
"Hey Rei!" He greeted cheerily.
"Hey, Ty, how's it goin'?" I asked.
"Fine, fine, except MAX wouldn't let me ride in the front!" Tyson said, dark blue eyes glaring playfully at Max, who just glanced back at him as he put the car in gear and stepped on the gas.
"You lost your front seat privileges last week after the 'soda on my stereo' incident," Max said.
I grimaced, poor Maxie, always having to putting up with Tyson's lack of grace.
"Well it was an accident, and I said I was sorry," Tyson replied, genuinely meaning it.
Tyson never dreamed of purposely doing something to upset or hurt Max, because he cared about the blonde too much, and he respected Max as a blader and as a person. I think we all gained a new respect for Max after his parents died, not that we hadn't respected him before, it was just that we all knew how much Max adored his Mom and Dad and how close he was to them despite the divorce.
They were both on a flight headed to some conference in Ireland when their plane experienced some engine problems. The pilots tried to land early and fix the problem, but they couldn't find a landing site soon enough, and the plane went down; there were no survivors.
Mr. D had to break the news to Max. He called Maxie in the morning after the crash and broke the news. When Max came back to us all, he sat down at the breakfast table and started putting some food on his plate. He was quiet, and WE were quiet because we were curious as to why HE was. Eventually, some tears started to brim at his eyes, and they rolled down his cheeks. All he said to us, in this whispery, hoarse tone was, "Would you come with me, to my parent's funeral . . . I don't think I want to go alone."
We were all shocked and tried to comfort him in any way we could, firstly agreeing to attend the funeral, and secondly trying to console him.
Please note that when I say 'we' I mean Tyson, Kenny, and I. Kai offered his condolences but not much else.
Max took the entire ordeal in strive, not letting it get to him too bad, or at least he put up a good front. For a while there, he started to lose weight, and he would often force laughter, and a certain vibrant glow that always seemed present in his eyes disappeared. Being an orphan, Max was concerned about where he would live, and whom he would stay with. Fortunately, Tyson's Grandpa was named 'unofficial God Father', and Max lived with Tyson at the dojo until he was old enough to be on his own, in which case he got an apartment, not extremely far from mine, in the city. In a few years he gained back the weight he lost, his laughter became genuine again, and that sparkling vibrancy in his eyes started to reappear, though it never was as strong.
"I know you did Tyson, and I forgave you . . . you just can't ride in the front seat until next week, that's all," said Max.
Tyson sighed. "Yeah, yeah, I know."
I shook my head humorously and looked to Max. "So, Kenny isn't coming?" I asked.
He shook his head. "Uh-uh, but Kai is."
I was surprised to hear that. Kai never came with us anywhere, he had an aversion to big, loud crowds of people, or at least, I had assumed so. "Kai is? Our Kai? As in, Kai 'I hate everyone and everything you damn infidels' Hiwatari?" I asked, just for good measure.
Tyson snickered in the back, and Max grinned. "The same."
"Wow," was my only reply.
"I don't have a clue as to when he plans on showing up, but he said he'd come."
"Oh," was my next intelligent reply.
Max took one hand off the wheel to reach into his jacket pocket, and he pulled out three thin cards, each with a shiny sheen from lamination. He glanced from the road to the cards, which he was sorting through, a few times before he found the one with my picture on it.
"Here, Kenny and Dizzi send their regards," Max said.
I took the proffered ID and examined it while Max gave Tyson his ID, and put the last one, Max's ID, back into the safe haven that was his pocket.
The IDs were done flawlessly, as Kenny and Dizzi rarely did work that wasn't. I smiled a little as I put the ID in my jacket pocket and let my mind wander elsewhere. I still couldn't believe Kai was going to come! The very idea almost struck me as outrageous, which I berated myself for, because I tried not stereotype people, and Kai was still a friend. Still, it just seemed . . . awkward.
My mind wandered to other various subjects as we drove on: what were Mariah and Lee doing, what time I'd wake up the next morning, how bad the hangover would be the next morning, who was I going to end up with at the end of the night (scratch that, I didn't care who it was), how nice Max's car was, if I would ever finish that history paper that was going to be due sometime in the following week, if the milk I had drank that morning had expired (I thought it tasted kind of funny), whether or not I'd get sick if the milk turned out to be expired, and finally, the question that has yet to be solved, but bothers me the most out of all of the worldly questions, how many licks DOES it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop?
Seriously, I really, really, want to know, but that damned sucker and its yummy goodness, I always bite . . . but one day, one day I WILL find out, and that day will be a glorious day indeed. And then, after I've found this most queried of the universe's secrets, I'll proceed to kill that mean owl that's always pretending to find out how many licks it takes, and then he goes and eats everyone's Tootsie Pop. I hate that guy!
"We're here."
I startled out of my thoughts. "Hm, what?" I asked, looking around at the car's only two occupants blankly. I couldn't figure out who had spoken, or what they said.
"I said we're here," replied Tyson, pointing to a finely lit club.
I looked it over. There were neon signs, bouncers, people waiting outside, smoky air, the smell of vomit, and the bass of an unknown song wafted outward from inside the establishment. A smile pulled at the corners of my lips.
"Looks good to me," I said.
"Hold on you guys. Check out that line. We could be waiting outside forever," Max reasoned.
I opened my mouth to reply, but Tyson got there before me.
"But this is where you told Kai we would be."
"Well, Kai has a cell phone, we could call him and tell him to come elsewhere," argued Max.
"But--" Tyson started.
I held up a hand, indicating for silence. I cleared my throat and smirked. "Max, buddy, we don't have to worry about getting in, okay? Just park the car, and let's go," I said smoothly.
Max stared at me, and so did Tyson, but they must have caught the glint in my eyes, or perhaps picked up on the secret in my smirk, because Tyson chuckled, and Max sighed. They both reached for their wallets and pulled out a twenty. I added those two to my own and folded the bills up so that they would sit comfortably in the palm of my hand.
Max parked the Jag and we all exited the vehicle. The rain, by that time, had died down, leaving only a small army of persistent raindrops to fall sluggishly to the ground and join the many, glistening puddles that littered it. I sighed in relief, as I really wasn't a fan of rain.
We walked across the street, the clattering sound of our footsteps slapping the concrete and then gradually merging with the buzzing of nightlife in the city. As we approached the most diverse and very animate line of people, a lovely mass of excited butterflies started fluttering about inside my stomach . . . and in . . . other . . . places.
Max nudged me, causing me to gently shake my head and catch his gaze with a reassuring smile as we neared the burgundy ropes that acted as the line's periphery. I observed the two bouncers standing outside of the club. They were large men, as to be expected, and they were both clad in black dress slacks; shiny, polished black shoes adorned their massive feet. They each wore black, sleek, spandex-looking turtleneck shirts, which only succeeded in emphasizing their thick necks, and broad, barrel chests. Over their shirts were black jackets, especially tailored to fit their prodigious forms. Each man fashioned a bald cranium, bulky golden rings on their short, stubby fingers, and black shades hiding their eyes. The only thing that set the pair apart was the presence of a stereotypical goatee on one man's face.
As intimidating as they looked, I had a feeling that their characters weren't unlike many of the other bouncers that I had bribed in the past, so I threw on an expression that was fairly self-explanatory to my purposes, and we made our way to the front of the line.
I could feel eyes on me, on us, for various reasons; some out of curiosity, others for less innocent means. This didn't bother me, as I craved the attention, and it didn't bother Tyson as he was, more likely than not, oblivious to it. On the other hand, Max was just radiating nervousness.
We stopped just outside of the burgundy rope. Neither beast looked to us, their hidden eyes focused on something seemingly far away. Never the less, they became aware of our presence, and I was startled, but didn't show it, when a gruff voice cut into my hearing.
"Back a' the line," it ordered.
I smirked. "The back? But, we're all ready way up here," I said, my voice taunting and yet strangely provocative.
At my comment, they both looked down at us. I let a seductive smile play nonchalantly across my lips and flashed briefly the money that I held easily in my hand.
Their was a slight pause and, with a grunt, one man's meaty hand reached out and unattached the rope from the pole that it had been tethered to. My smile turned to a smirk as we proceeded beyond the open barrier, and as I passed the man who had let us in, I discreetly slid the money into his jacket pocket.
Random Reporter # 1: Uh yeah, I was just wondering, um . . . do you own BeyBlade?
Me: (Blinks) (Sighs) (Pulls out shotgun) (Shoots reporter) (Puts shotgun away) Okay, any other questions?
Random Reporter # 2: Yes, is it true that you're strangely paranoid?
Me: (shifty eyes) Sh . . . the pigeons . . . they are in the closet . . . listen! Can you hear them plotting . . . ?
Everyone: (Cricket, cricket)
Author's Note: Hello all! Hm, sorry about the freaky disclaimer, but the pigeons . . . oh never mind. Anyway, this is the next installment to the fic, and I don't have too much to say other than enjoy, feel free to review, and Happy Readings!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter: 1
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"So, this is it then, Rei," Mariah said, stating the all too obvious.
I just nodded my head and flashed her grin. "Yeah, it's looking that way."
She looked a little saddened by our collective revelation. I thought I saw something akin to regret in those eyes of hers, but she knew that we couldn't stay together. The relationship was going too a happy little place that I, so lovingly, call nowhere.
I watched her silently as she slid on her coat and fastened it snugly around her slender, curved form. She sighed as she grabbed her purse and slung the long, thin strap over her shoulder. She then turned to look at me, and I, in turn, looked at her.
We stayed staring at one another for long time, just taking in one another's features, digging up memories from our time together, and listening to the rain that fell so consistently outside. It was only when a particularly discordant rumble of thunder sounded that we snapped out of our individual reveries.
We shook our heads simultaneously and then grinned at each other. Taking the initiative, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her in friendly, brotherly hug. She returned the hug, and we pulled away, but I couldn't help but notice how sad she still looked.
"Hey, cheer up, Mariah. Just because our love life is ending doesn't mean we'll never see each other again," I said reassuringly.
She nodded, that sharp, confident look returning to her eyes. "You're damn straight we'll be seeing each other again, 'cause let's face it Kon, I've got way too much shit on you, and blackmailing is only illegal if ya get caught," she said.
I chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind," I replied.
We hugged again.
"Well, Lee is waiting for me out in the car. You know that we'll be living in the city, and you have our number and the address, right?"
I nodded in confirmation.
"Okay then, keep in touch," she ordered.
I kissed her gently on the cheek. "Count on it," I whispered to her.
With those parting words, and some parting smiles and glances, Mariah walked out of my apartment, closing the door behind her. Right when I heard the door shut, I felt as though a gigantic weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I was free!
I wanted to do a little dance of glee or at least SOMETHING to celebrate my freedom, which had evaded me for an entire year. I supposed I could dance in glee, but my thinking was more, 'why dance in glee in my own apartment when I could dance in glee in public with hundreds of random strangers watching my every gleeful movement?'
My hand darted for the phone before my brain sent the message to do so . . . which is irregular . . .in fact, it's impossible, so it probably didn't happen that way.
The point is that the phone was in my hand, and I was dialing a number. When my fingers had completed the task of pressing the familiar button combination, I held the phone to my ear and listened to the sound of the soft ringing, which played once, twice, thrice, and was picked up on the fourth ring.
"Hello?" came the familiar voice.
"Hey Maxie!" I greeted excitedly.
"Uh, hey Rei, what's goin' on?"
Max sounded a little bewildered by my happier-that-usual tone of voice. I can't say that I blamed him, because I was generally more subdued.
"Nothing," I said.
"Oh, uh . . . 'kay."
I laughed. "Max, I'm FREE!" I exclaimed.
"Mariah left all ready? I thought it would take way longer to move all of her stuff out of your place," Max said matter-of-factly.
I sighed. Why wasn't he as happy as me?
"You almost sound depressed," I told him humorously.
"Nah, I'm happy for ya man, It's just I thought maybe YOU'D be a little more upset about it than you sound. I mean, you and Mariah are close and you were together romantically for an entire year. That's a long time to get attached to someone."
Ah Max, always wearing his heart on his sleeve and thinking of others before himself. It doesn't get much better than him.
I smiled softly. "Mariah and I are better friends than lovers, trust me. In any case, I'm happy being unattached again, it feels really good."
I could practically see Max shrugging his shoulders and rolling those bright, blue eyes of his. I'll be the first to say that, with those big, pouty eyes and that blonde hair, Max is a real cutie. Not to mention he's as friendly and, I'm betting, as cuddly as a puppy.
"So, what DID you call for, Rei?" He asked.
I grinned madly. "I want to celebrate. Let's go out," I said.
"You DO know that it's raining, don't you?" Max asked.
This time I rolled MY eyes. "Well I'm not blind."
"You hate rain."
"Thanks for telling me, I'm sure if you hadn't I'd have forgotten," I replied sarcastically.
I heard him sigh. "All right, all right, let's go out. Where exactly did you have in mind?"
"Dunno, don't care, so long as we get there. I'll swing by at about 7. Is that okay?"
"Yeah, that's cool. You want me to call up the others?" He asked.
I thought about his question. Max was great to go clubbing with, but Tyson was a little . . . eccentric to bring along. Kenny was . . . well he never went with us anyway, and Kai was Kai. In any case, I was in a pretty good mood, so I went ahead and told Max to invite everyone. Shortly there after we ended our phone conversation and I went to my room to change. Something about going clubbing in a pair of gray sweatpants and an old shirt that I could pitch a tent with made me think that altering my current clothing would be a good idea.
Upon entering my bedroom I was pleased to find that it looked almost exactly the way it had BEFORE Mariah had come to live with me. It was as though the entire design had been lying in wait under all of Mariah's frilly pinkness.
Yes, my beloved haven was back to its usual dark color pallet, devoid of any lighter colors that would 'brighten it up'. The bed was no longer covered in a bright, elaborate starburst-looking quilt. That awful thing had been packed away in one of Mariah's many suitcases, and I had my regular navy blue comforter back in its rightful place, on my bed, covering my plain, white sheets, which had also been overridden by pinkness, but now reigned supreme once more.
That braided rug that she had insisted on putting on my soft, navy blue carpeting was gone, along with the god-awful drapes she had hung on my window. The tops of my furniture were no longer cluttered with random decorative things, my closet was free from the dark, evil grip of an over abundance of feminine clothing, and my drawers had been emancipated from numerous accessories.
My room was simple. It was crisp and clean looking, dark and light, yin and yang, just perfect. It just screamed, 'REI'! And let me tell you, it was music to my ears. I think about it now, and just about everything Mariah had in there clashed with what was ALL READY in there. As much as I love her, psychopathic lover of pink doesn't even BEGIN to describe her.
I looked through my wardrobe carefully, as I wanted to choose clothing that projected a certain something. I wanted to give off a certain energy, a magnetic aura, a characteristic that made people turn their heads . . . I wanted to express that . . . heh, that I was TOTALLY available.
With a grin on my face, I grabbed a pair of black pants that sat a little lower on the waist, and left a little something to the imagination, because I figured I liked surprises just as much as the next guy, and who knows, that 'next guy' might be behind me for a reason . . . if ya catch my drift.
I then proceeded to throw on a cashmere shirt that was short sleeved, and extended to the pant line of my black pants, obviously. The shirt was form fitting, accented my curves, showed off a little toned muscle, and was crimson in color, which accentuated my amber colored eyes and dark hair, which I had taken out of the holder and bound in a neat braid.
Lastly, I slid on a pair of black boots and put my wallet into my pocket. I glanced in the mirror and grinned (I seemed to be doing that a lot). Yeah, there was no way this look didn't scream 'nail me'.
I glanced at the clock next to my bed on the nightstand. I still had a half an hour or so before I needed to go pick up Max and the others, and then something hit me . . . a very important something.
I dashed from my room to the kitchen where I grabbed the phone and rapidly dialed Max again. I heard him pick up the phone, but didn't bother to let him greet me. Being the courteous person I was, I greeted HIM first.
"Max, call Kenny!" I shouted.
There was silence on the other end of the phone. ". . . Max?" I asked, this time a little less frantically.
"Rei? Oh, I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you, you weren't YELLING loud enough," he said dryly.
I chuckled and replied, "Smart ass."
"Damn straight. Anyway, I all ready called Kenny and he said he isn't coming, but he is going to drop the IDs by, so don't worry about it." Max assured me.
I took a deep breath. "You're the best, Maxie."
"You tell that to Kenny," replied Max.
"I plan on it. Oh and uh, I was thinkin', could you drive tonight, because I have a feeling that I'm gunna want to be drinking."
Max sighed. "Yeah, I guess I'll drive, but Rei, I am not dragging your drunk ass up three flights of stairs to your apartment again, got it?"
I grinned. "Check! See ya in a few, okay?"
"Right, later."
I hung up the phone and sighed in relief. I would have to thank Kenny later. He and Dizzi could do anything on that laptop, including producing fake IDs for us all, considering we were all sort of under age.
As I waited for Max, I could feel a sort of adrenaline rushing through my veins. I couldn't wait to get to whatever club we were going too. I needed to hear the music that pounded loudly in my head, experience the exciting atmosphere, the endless drone of talking, the smell of sweaty bodies rubbing against each other, and I craved the feel of foreign, lustful eyes raking over my body. I wanted to tease, to flirt, to throw caution to the wind, and eventually land myself in bed with some person I had just met, wake up the next morning with a hangover, get RID of the person I had just met and NEVER see them again for as long as I lived.
I know, I know, it SOUNDS sluttish and maybe it was, but I had been deprived of randomness while being with Mariah. All I wanted was some hard, meaningless sex, and seriously, is that so much to ask for?
I was jerked from my thoughts by the sound of a buzzer, and I quickly got up to answer. I pressed the button on the little speaker and said, "Rei here."
"Come down, come down now, because I'm getting wet, and it's cold, bye."
With those laconically spoken words, Max 'hung up', so to speak, and I was left to grab my leather jacket and head out the door.
When I got downstairs to the lobby of the building I had to stop in my tracks to stare at the pouring rain. It was coming down hard, reminding me of a menagerie of bullets pelting the ground. Blue, stormy light rolled into the dimly lit entryway, and despite the steady beat of the rain outside, it seemed deadly quiet inside.
I looked over to the apartment building's doorman, Sam, an elderly old guy, tall with wise, stone wash blue eyes and dark gray hair that usually stayed hidden under his official doorman hat. He was a kindly man, always willing to talk to people about this and that and whatever else, and he took his job very seriously. At one time I had thought being a doorman was kind of a boring, unfulfilling job, so I asked old Sam about it, and he said simply, "They got to get through me b'fore they can get to you, son." After that I gained a new respect for that man and his job. Anyway, Sam is one of those old guys who has done everything, so he hasn't too many regrets, and seen everything, so it'd be hard to surprise him. He's got great stories, and he's great to listen to when he's off duty and has time to tell them.
Sam was sitting quietly in chair just left of the doorway, paper in hand. His eyes were sharp though and always watching; nothing got by him.
"Evening Mr. Kon," He said in that low, easy tenor.
I sighed. "Hey Sam," I said, "and it's Rei."
He glanced up from his paper, a twinkle in his eye. "Of course, Mr. Kon," he replied.
I rolled my eyes, gently shaking my head. It didn't matter how many times I corrected him, the guy refused to call me anything less formal that 'Mr. Kon' or 'sir' when he was on duty. It was probably just part of his weird, old man, doorman code . . . or something like that. If he was off duty, and I just dropped by to chat with him then he would call me by Rei, or sometimes just 'son'.
"Will you be leaving now, Mr. Kon?" He asked, standing up and setting his paper down on the vacant chair. He walked gracefully over to the door and 'assumed the position'.
"Yes, I'm going out with Max and everyone for a while, so I probably won't be back till late," I replied, adding playfully, "so don't wait up."
He chuckled lightly. "Yes sir. Have a good evening, sir."
Sam pulled open the large, black gates and then pushed open the heavy, oak doors that stood beyond on them.
With the open doors serving as a portal to a very wet outside world, I took a deep breath and stepped beyond the threshold, and I sprinted toward the silver Jaguar that was to be my carriage for the night. I spotted Max's blonde hair in the driver's side, Tyson in the back seat, and an empty passenger's seat in the front, which I assumed was meant for me considering the fact that is was, in obvious respects, devoid of someone else's ass.
My hand grabbed a hold of the car door handle, pulled up, yanked the door open, and I jumped inside, practically slamming the car door once I was safely inside the vehicle. I took a deep breath, and looked at Max who just shook his head.
"If you hadn't of been so eager to go out tonight and celebrate your so called 'freedom' then you wouldn't even of had to 'brave' getting hit by the oh-so-perilous rain," he said, sarcasm dripping from every word.
I scowled at him. "It isn't my fault that Destiny decided Mariah should leave on the exact same day that Fate thought it should rain," I told him, just as sarcastically.
Max just rolled his eyes. "Right," he said.
I grinned while fastening my seatbelt, because well, you know, safety first, and then I looked back at Tyson who smiled at me.
"Hey Rei!" He greeted cheerily.
"Hey, Ty, how's it goin'?" I asked.
"Fine, fine, except MAX wouldn't let me ride in the front!" Tyson said, dark blue eyes glaring playfully at Max, who just glanced back at him as he put the car in gear and stepped on the gas.
"You lost your front seat privileges last week after the 'soda on my stereo' incident," Max said.
I grimaced, poor Maxie, always having to putting up with Tyson's lack of grace.
"Well it was an accident, and I said I was sorry," Tyson replied, genuinely meaning it.
Tyson never dreamed of purposely doing something to upset or hurt Max, because he cared about the blonde too much, and he respected Max as a blader and as a person. I think we all gained a new respect for Max after his parents died, not that we hadn't respected him before, it was just that we all knew how much Max adored his Mom and Dad and how close he was to them despite the divorce.
They were both on a flight headed to some conference in Ireland when their plane experienced some engine problems. The pilots tried to land early and fix the problem, but they couldn't find a landing site soon enough, and the plane went down; there were no survivors.
Mr. D had to break the news to Max. He called Maxie in the morning after the crash and broke the news. When Max came back to us all, he sat down at the breakfast table and started putting some food on his plate. He was quiet, and WE were quiet because we were curious as to why HE was. Eventually, some tears started to brim at his eyes, and they rolled down his cheeks. All he said to us, in this whispery, hoarse tone was, "Would you come with me, to my parent's funeral . . . I don't think I want to go alone."
We were all shocked and tried to comfort him in any way we could, firstly agreeing to attend the funeral, and secondly trying to console him.
Please note that when I say 'we' I mean Tyson, Kenny, and I. Kai offered his condolences but not much else.
Max took the entire ordeal in strive, not letting it get to him too bad, or at least he put up a good front. For a while there, he started to lose weight, and he would often force laughter, and a certain vibrant glow that always seemed present in his eyes disappeared. Being an orphan, Max was concerned about where he would live, and whom he would stay with. Fortunately, Tyson's Grandpa was named 'unofficial God Father', and Max lived with Tyson at the dojo until he was old enough to be on his own, in which case he got an apartment, not extremely far from mine, in the city. In a few years he gained back the weight he lost, his laughter became genuine again, and that sparkling vibrancy in his eyes started to reappear, though it never was as strong.
"I know you did Tyson, and I forgave you . . . you just can't ride in the front seat until next week, that's all," said Max.
Tyson sighed. "Yeah, yeah, I know."
I shook my head humorously and looked to Max. "So, Kenny isn't coming?" I asked.
He shook his head. "Uh-uh, but Kai is."
I was surprised to hear that. Kai never came with us anywhere, he had an aversion to big, loud crowds of people, or at least, I had assumed so. "Kai is? Our Kai? As in, Kai 'I hate everyone and everything you damn infidels' Hiwatari?" I asked, just for good measure.
Tyson snickered in the back, and Max grinned. "The same."
"Wow," was my only reply.
"I don't have a clue as to when he plans on showing up, but he said he'd come."
"Oh," was my next intelligent reply.
Max took one hand off the wheel to reach into his jacket pocket, and he pulled out three thin cards, each with a shiny sheen from lamination. He glanced from the road to the cards, which he was sorting through, a few times before he found the one with my picture on it.
"Here, Kenny and Dizzi send their regards," Max said.
I took the proffered ID and examined it while Max gave Tyson his ID, and put the last one, Max's ID, back into the safe haven that was his pocket.
The IDs were done flawlessly, as Kenny and Dizzi rarely did work that wasn't. I smiled a little as I put the ID in my jacket pocket and let my mind wander elsewhere. I still couldn't believe Kai was going to come! The very idea almost struck me as outrageous, which I berated myself for, because I tried not stereotype people, and Kai was still a friend. Still, it just seemed . . . awkward.
My mind wandered to other various subjects as we drove on: what were Mariah and Lee doing, what time I'd wake up the next morning, how bad the hangover would be the next morning, who was I going to end up with at the end of the night (scratch that, I didn't care who it was), how nice Max's car was, if I would ever finish that history paper that was going to be due sometime in the following week, if the milk I had drank that morning had expired (I thought it tasted kind of funny), whether or not I'd get sick if the milk turned out to be expired, and finally, the question that has yet to be solved, but bothers me the most out of all of the worldly questions, how many licks DOES it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop?
Seriously, I really, really, want to know, but that damned sucker and its yummy goodness, I always bite . . . but one day, one day I WILL find out, and that day will be a glorious day indeed. And then, after I've found this most queried of the universe's secrets, I'll proceed to kill that mean owl that's always pretending to find out how many licks it takes, and then he goes and eats everyone's Tootsie Pop. I hate that guy!
"We're here."
I startled out of my thoughts. "Hm, what?" I asked, looking around at the car's only two occupants blankly. I couldn't figure out who had spoken, or what they said.
"I said we're here," replied Tyson, pointing to a finely lit club.
I looked it over. There were neon signs, bouncers, people waiting outside, smoky air, the smell of vomit, and the bass of an unknown song wafted outward from inside the establishment. A smile pulled at the corners of my lips.
"Looks good to me," I said.
"Hold on you guys. Check out that line. We could be waiting outside forever," Max reasoned.
I opened my mouth to reply, but Tyson got there before me.
"But this is where you told Kai we would be."
"Well, Kai has a cell phone, we could call him and tell him to come elsewhere," argued Max.
"But--" Tyson started.
I held up a hand, indicating for silence. I cleared my throat and smirked. "Max, buddy, we don't have to worry about getting in, okay? Just park the car, and let's go," I said smoothly.
Max stared at me, and so did Tyson, but they must have caught the glint in my eyes, or perhaps picked up on the secret in my smirk, because Tyson chuckled, and Max sighed. They both reached for their wallets and pulled out a twenty. I added those two to my own and folded the bills up so that they would sit comfortably in the palm of my hand.
Max parked the Jag and we all exited the vehicle. The rain, by that time, had died down, leaving only a small army of persistent raindrops to fall sluggishly to the ground and join the many, glistening puddles that littered it. I sighed in relief, as I really wasn't a fan of rain.
We walked across the street, the clattering sound of our footsteps slapping the concrete and then gradually merging with the buzzing of nightlife in the city. As we approached the most diverse and very animate line of people, a lovely mass of excited butterflies started fluttering about inside my stomach . . . and in . . . other . . . places.
Max nudged me, causing me to gently shake my head and catch his gaze with a reassuring smile as we neared the burgundy ropes that acted as the line's periphery. I observed the two bouncers standing outside of the club. They were large men, as to be expected, and they were both clad in black dress slacks; shiny, polished black shoes adorned their massive feet. They each wore black, sleek, spandex-looking turtleneck shirts, which only succeeded in emphasizing their thick necks, and broad, barrel chests. Over their shirts were black jackets, especially tailored to fit their prodigious forms. Each man fashioned a bald cranium, bulky golden rings on their short, stubby fingers, and black shades hiding their eyes. The only thing that set the pair apart was the presence of a stereotypical goatee on one man's face.
As intimidating as they looked, I had a feeling that their characters weren't unlike many of the other bouncers that I had bribed in the past, so I threw on an expression that was fairly self-explanatory to my purposes, and we made our way to the front of the line.
I could feel eyes on me, on us, for various reasons; some out of curiosity, others for less innocent means. This didn't bother me, as I craved the attention, and it didn't bother Tyson as he was, more likely than not, oblivious to it. On the other hand, Max was just radiating nervousness.
We stopped just outside of the burgundy rope. Neither beast looked to us, their hidden eyes focused on something seemingly far away. Never the less, they became aware of our presence, and I was startled, but didn't show it, when a gruff voice cut into my hearing.
"Back a' the line," it ordered.
I smirked. "The back? But, we're all ready way up here," I said, my voice taunting and yet strangely provocative.
At my comment, they both looked down at us. I let a seductive smile play nonchalantly across my lips and flashed briefly the money that I held easily in my hand.
Their was a slight pause and, with a grunt, one man's meaty hand reached out and unattached the rope from the pole that it had been tethered to. My smile turned to a smirk as we proceeded beyond the open barrier, and as I passed the man who had let us in, I discreetly slid the money into his jacket pocket.