note; I had way too much fun writing this. xD
This is a MUCH lighter chapter than any of the others,
because I felt like this fic was drowning in ridiculous
amounts of emo. I hate having to clean up hair dye and
eyeliner, don't you? ;P There are quite a few 'reality check?'
questions that may come up in this chapter. Haha. I'll probably
answer them indirectly sometime soon.
- x -
v.
- x -
The hospital smells like death and cheap cleaning products. It stings as Kairi inhales, but she's too busy attempting to convince the nurse at the front desk that yes, I actually know Olette to notice. But of course, the nurse is not buying it. She's middle-aged and short-tempered, with no patience for uptown girls and their innocent eyes.
Eventually, one of the doctors recognizes the petite girl dressed in black, and lets her into a certain room (that houses a certain boy for whom Olette requires a certain favor to be done).
The shadows of footsteps echo throughout the hallway (each set of feet as nervous as the other), and stop at room eighty four.
"It'll only be a second. I promise. She's not supposed to be tending to him, but she wants me to make sure he's all right." Here, Kairi takes a moment to roll her expertly made-up eyes. "I swear that girl is too nice for her own good."
The handle turns with a harsh 'click', and the door is opened to reveal a bed.
And in that bed, is a boy.
And that boy's name is –
"Hayner…?" Roxas lets the word tumble, shocked, from his lips (his face is free of grime and poverty; a thin mask of "normalcy" has been slipped over his head for the time being).
The boy named Hayner opens a tired brown eye. "Olette? I thought you had to…"
Zoom in. Focus.
Action.
A friendly shout of familiarity is lost in the sound of one body hitting another, as Roxas tackles Hayner in a hug. Tears well up and dribble down freshly-scrubbed cheeks, embarrassed laughs and 'I thought you were dead!' taking a seat on the edge of the bed.
And Kairi stands there, surprised, and absently notes that this is the first time she's seen Roxas smile.
- x -
"I still don't understand why we have to stand out here," Axel complains, an unlit cigarette moving between his lips as he pulls a silver lighter out of his suit jacket. "That girl is so paranoid. I mean, sure, I might have earned a restraining order from one of the nurses, but if she can sneak ol' Roxas in, why not me?" The end of the cigarette flares to life. "It's discrimination, that's what it is."
Naminé simply swings her legs from her seat on the white metal bench, trying her best to ignore the smell of smoke and the sound of Axel's ranting.
- x -
Flawlessly white teeth take microscopic bites of food, while carefully painted lips form rings around wineglasses and laughter is forced into dull conversation.
This is Olette's only definition of family dinner.
But she never can see the family.
"So, 'lette, darling…" her mother begins, and already, Olette is bored to tears. The woman's voice has a distinct slur to it, and Olette can see the tips of her ears becoming flushed. Tipsy by 6:45; it's a new record.
"… I was wondering why you rejected your sister's invitation to join her at the studio tonight. Everyone has always told you what a pretty face you have, I'm sure that the agency would love to have you along with her –"
"I'm not interested in that, mommy," the (demure, dutiful) daughter replies as she daintily dabs at her mouth with a napkin. "I've told you so a million times. I want to be a doctor, not a model."
Her father nods approvingly, his eyes never leaving his meal.
"But, honey, Selphie would just love it so if you joined her!"
It takes every ounce of Olette's self-restraint to stop herself from laughing. Right. Selphie adores the spotlight, and for once in her life, she has it instead of her sister. Intelligence has never been Selphie's forte; she has been the beauty of the family (what family?), while Olette has always been the brains.
And no amount of whining from their mother is going to change that.
Excusing herself from the table, Olette rushes up the winding stairway to her room. When she reaches her bed, all she can think about is the rather suspicious reputation of the particular agency that recently signed Selphie. Three (or was it four?) of their previous models have all mysteriously disappeared within the past five years. Not that it is at all unusual – every once in a while, the stress will become too much and the model will jet off to their personal paradise; or maybe they will become involved in drugs and attend a rehabilitation center disguised as a resort.
But this fact refuses to cease its incessant nagging, and all Olette can see is the face of her sister, wide-eyed, ambitious, and impressionable.
(stand still, look pretty.)
- x -
Tendrils of gray dance through the frozen air, and for a split second, Naminé has the urge to reach out and snatch a few in the palm of her hand. But smoke, as everyone knows, is impossible to catch. So Naminé simply sighs and rubs her arms, wishing that it would snow to make all of this ugly turn beautiful again.
"Hey, squirt…" Axel nods in her direction, "What do you think is taking them so long?"
Naminé looks up at him, shrugging her narrow shoulders up and down. "I dunno," she answers, her voice rough from lack of use, "maybe they got caught or something. I just want to get out of here. I hate hospitals." She shivers, whether for emphasis or from the weather, Axel isn't sure. "They're so… white. Too much canvas and not enough paint, y'know?"
A part of him does know, but that part has become quieter with each passing day. So Axel doesn't reply, only takes a long drag on his cigarette before flicking it to the ground and stepping on it with the heel of his boot. (Another light snuffed out in New York City; another dying flame)
Naminé licks her lips, letting the tip of her tongue run over the cracks before speaking once more. "I just want Roxas to be okay. The way he used to."
And Axel continues to stay silent, but wraps an arm around the porcelain doll next to him. I do too, pet. I do too.
Suddenly, the automatic doors slide open and reveal three figures, each grinning as impishly as the other. One girl and two boys.
Kairi, Hayner, and Roxas.
It takes Naminé exactly four seconds to register the smile on Roxas' face and the familiar image of a boy with sandy hair.
It takes Axel only three to yell, "Holy freaking shit! It's a zombie!"
Roxas laughs and Hayner quirks an eyebrow, but both squirm in embarrassment as Axel wraps them in a hug.
An elderly couple entering the building tuts disapprovingly at the dirty word and public display of affection (these kids today…), and Kairi looks a round warily for anyone she recognizes. So far, they're in the clear, but for how long?
"As much as I love seeing all of you in a good mood, we really have to get out of here. Like, now."
Naminé nods, a slight blush painting her cheeks as Roxas slips his hand through hers and the group starts walking away.
- x -
"Forgive me for interrupting what I'm sure was a brilliant train of thought, but I'm only a little curious as to what the hell went on in there." Axel's sarcasm reaches his lips as they twist into a grin; he glances down at Kairi, his right hand searching his pockets for a cigarette.
She can't stop the smile on her face or the joy in her voice as she answers him, "Long story short: I found Hayner, persuaded one of the interns to get a doctor to prescribe Roxas some medicine, and the three of us high-tailed it out of there." Giddy laughter colors her tone. "There may have been an accident involving wheelchairs and a very angry nurse."
Axel chuckles and places a cigarette in his mouth; before he can even bring out his lighter, he sees Kairi looking up at him with her eyebrows knit into a scowl.
"What are you –?"
But his words die on his lips as a pair of blue eyes gets much, much closer. (Axel absently registers the fact that they have both stopped walking).
He can see the freckles on her nose and the places where her eyeliner has become smudged. He can see every imperfection, every thing that makes her human.
Her lips part slightly, and Axel feels his heart speed up just a little. She's close enough to –
(Kiss).
And suddenly, his cigarette is pulled out of his mouth and into the grasp of immaculate teeth. It is spit out into a slender hand and put between two fingers, then shoved into his face accusingly.
"Okay, no more smoking for you, Mr. Badass. It's unattractive, and will most likely kill you. Probably even make you ugly. So stop."
Axel blinks. Wait a second. The princess removed his cigarette with her teeth?
Well, isn't she feisty tonight?
In an attempt to hide the moment of weakness, Axel rolls his eyes, but instead of arguing (which he is sure she expects him to do), he begins to saunter down the city street, looking behind him slyly. "So, you persuaded an intern, huh? Define 'persuade'."
And Axel smirks at the look on her face before turning around, feeling that for the first time in a while, he is happy.
- x -
"Tilt your chin down a little. Good, now relax your shoulders." Flash. "Better, but I need some more behind the eyes, you're looking a little dead here." Flash. "Much better. Beautiful. Okay, last frame…" Flash. "…And we're done!"
Selphie smiles and thanks the photographer, then walks into the dressing room to exchange the gorgeous clothes for her own slightly-less-gorgeous outfit. Shirt? Check. Stockings? Check. Skirt? Check. Blazer? Check.
Wrapping her scarf around her neck and slipping her feet into her shoes, Selphie studies herself in the vanity mirror. In her own clothes, with her own hairstyle, she doesn't feel at all what a model should be. But, sighing, she decides it doesn't matter. She's only a model in front of the camera, anyway.
When she arrives outside, the young girl is annoyed by the following things: 1) Her sister had called her five times in the past half hour, and 2) her chauffer is no where to be found.
Great. Just fabulous.
The thought of sitting unaccompanied in a dirty taxi with a questionable cabdriver is enough to make Selphie want to shudder, but not enough to make her want to walk the thirty blocks home.
So she hails a cab, ignoring the distinct leer of the driver as he asks her "where to?", and shuts the door before answering in a decidedly icy tone.
As the taxi drives off, a man clad in black speaks into a cell phone,
"I think we've got her."
(stand still, look pretty)
- x -
The world is brightly colored with reckless cheers and (slightly) drunken laughter. They're not even pretending to be quiet, because nobody listens to this side of town.
Pence is taking pictures of a very inebriated Yuffie, who dances on a rickety table to music no one else can hear. Roxas and Hayner tell stories of their many misadventures to Demyx, who has heard them all before. And Naminé (sweet Naminé) simply sits next to Roxas, watching him with a heartbreaking tenderness in her eyes.
Meanwhile, Kairi tries her best not to vomit all over Axel.
"Geez, princess! I thought you'd be able to hold your liquor," the red-haired youth grins, chuckling as the 'princess' very nearly falls to the floor in an ungraceful heap.
"I can hold my liquor, what are you jabbering about?" Kairi slurs and uses Axel's arm to hold herself upright. "Oh, crap. What time izzit? Shit, my parents're gonna freaking murder me!"
Axel only laughs, his emerald eyes twinkling mischievously. "And to think you were the designated driver," He smirks, "Don't you worry your pretty little head, Kai. I seem to be the only sober one here, ironically enough. I'll drive you home."
Mumbles of don't call me Kai! and I bet you say that to all the girls, you cheesehead! reached his ears, but he only ruffled her hair affectionately and took her by the hand.
She vaguely remembers tripping over herself the entire way to the mysteriously parked limousine, and the smell of smoke and cologne as she tried her best not to fall asleep on his shoulder.
But the distant whir of the street outside and the warmth radiating from his body as he wrapped an arm around her did nothing to help the poor girl stay awake. And right before sleep overtook her, a single thought made its way into Kairi's mind.
How does he know where I live?