Disclaimer: huffs Well, FINE, if you HAVE to keep all those characters, then just be that way.
Author's Note: I wrote part of this chapter while listening to an orchestra recording; you'll have to forgive me if its usual caustic humor is rather lacking in later parts.
Chapter Three
"Lain, Lain, Lain, wake up!"
"Yeah, come on Lain, get up already!"
"It's almost noon!"
Lain hated children. Really. There was nothing redeeming about them in any sense. They weren't even cute. Puppies were cute. Kittens were cute. Ducklingswere cute. There were few things less cute than a human child, in Lain's personal opinion. They were annoying, often fat, or just painfully skinny, and either complained too much or thought they were the shit when they weren't. Just not cute. And now, she didn't just happen to live in the same house as an annoying middle schooler; she lived with two ten-year-olds, never mind the fact that she had her own room. It had been only around fourteen or so hours since Lain had met Marlene and Denzel (or, as Lain liked to call them, Annoyance One and Annoyance Two), and already she felt that it would be too soon if she ever saw them again. Why? Because they had just very forcefully removed her from the realm of sleep at six-fucking-thirty on a Saturday, and lied and said it was noon to justify their actions before sprinting out of killing range. Not that the day of the week held any relevance to her for the time being, given that it seemed pretty normal for a seventeen year old to be out of school around here, and the bar wasn't supposed to open until about four in the afternoon anyway, but still. It was Saturday, and she was entitled to at least ten hours. And, given that she had gone to bed at around one in the morning after reading a fairly interesting book the last occupant of the room had left there on various gun models (which also provided some interesting insight on the nature of materia slots), her quota was not filled. At all.
The disgruntled teenager was now sprawled unattractively on the floor, pushing herself up by her arms and casting a glare at the digital clock radio on the bedside table. It looked very similar to the one she'd had back at home. Maybe the bastards were cousins. Falling back onto the low-slung but extremely comfortable bed she'd been provided with, Lain sighed irritably, cursing human reproduction and adoption and whatever else led to the existence of both parties responsible for her early waking. Then, because she'd always been shitty at going back to sleep once woken up, she found her way sulkily to her feet, reminded as she reflexively rearranged her bedraggled clothes after sleeping that she was still wearing the same clothes from the day before. Well, that was obvious, given that she didn't exactly carry a bag of spare clothes with her every place she went. But after making sure that her pants weren't shoved up to her belly button or her shirt shoved around to show things the public really shouldn't see, Lain moved lazily from her room to the main hallway, then stumbled down the stairs to the kitchen off the bar, neglecting to tie her hair out of her face, giving her a further cause for complaint as she was forced to actually look at the nasty pink mop-like material that covered her head. Under different circumstances Lain would have checked to make sure it was okay for her to raid the kitchen of her hosts, however, given that she had just been accosted in her bed by two ten year olds, Lain was less inclined to feel guilty. Besides, she'd been offered free room and board in exchange for working the bar with Tifa later. Until Tifa said otherwise, that meant eating a reasonable amount of the more generic foods in the house.
Lain's long, spindly fingers searched through the sleek cupboards deftly, and after a minute or so a bowl of cereal that resembled coco puffs sat in front of her on the counter. The box was labeled "Choco Puffs" and had a picture of a strange bird that looked like a combination of a chicken and an ostrich on it. The bird was chasing the cereal with a wild-eyed expression that Lain would have thought might disturb most children. Taking a bite proved that it was, as Lain had expected, chocolate-flavored. It was good, too. She hoped Cloud didn't have an unreasonable attachment to Choco Puffs, especially if he was still sore about the use she had put his shoulder guard to in the pit stop during her grapple with that huge-ass spider. While she crunched away, Lain looked at the whitish sunlight illuminating the room from some slim windows in beams that illustrated the swirling dust all around. It was very Zen, the way the dust particles swirled around in an untraceable and deceptively lovely mélange of dead skin cells and insect droppings. Mmm...Zen...
Two things happened in very quick succession. Lain's head sagged, then dropped altogether into her Choco Puffs. Cloud walked into the room just in time to see her raise her head swiftly, sputtering and with beads of milk sticking to her hair and beading in her eyelashes. When Lain saw Cloud, she wiped her face with the back of her tanned hand, not at all removing all the milk down dripping down her face onto her collarbones and gave him what she very much hoped was a "and what the fuck do you want?" look. Cloud tossed her a towel from a drawer full off neatly folded hand towels and walked past her without a word to the cupboard with the Choco Puffs. Lain wiped her face more thoroughly, and lamented the fact that due to her rather slick display of dining idiocy, she was no longer entitled to making fun of Cloud for still eating what looked like a kid's cereal (never mind that she was eating it at seventeen.) Meanwhile, Cloud was pouring a bowl and didn't look at her again until he pushed her firmly but not forcefully away from the silverware drawer (which she was still standing in front of) after pouring milk into his bowl. It was the kind of push where instead of making contact once and sending the recipient flying, Cloud's left hand simply stayed on her shoulder until she was out of the way, then continued going about his business. Still utterly silent, he stood in place near the sink in much the same way Lain had, spooning Choco Puffs robotically into his mouth. She even wondered vaguely if perhaps she and Cloud had been woken up in a similar fashion. Lain considered making small talk, but decided against it when she felt milk drying on her throat and decided that now would be the time to go wash it off in the bathroom. Washing her bowl and placing it in the dish rack before leaving, Lain glanced back at Cloud once before climbing the stairs again.
Between the top of the stairs and the bathroom she caught sight of Marlene darting past. She glared balefully at the girl as she made her way down the hall to the bathroom. When Lain passed Tifa's door she was a little less than surprised to find Tifa just coming out the door, dressed in a long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves pushed up to the elbows and long blue and white-checkered pajama pants.
"We rise early," Lain said. It wasn't said like a question, but there was some curious incredulity behind it.
"Yeah, sorry if the kids woke you up. I thought I heard them a little while ago. I'll tell them not to bother you in future," Tifa said kindly, an apologetic expression taking hold of her features as she noted the slight circles under Lain's eyes. Then she noticed the rest of Lain.
"What happened to you?" she asked, tilting her head. "Is that milk?"
"Yeah," Lain replied ruefully. "I sorta fell asleep in the Choco Puffs. I was on my way to the, uh, the thing..." Her brain failed her and she gestured in the bathroom's general direction. Milk had somehow managed to drip onto her shirt now.
"Oh, yeah, go take care of that," Tifa said, nodding sympathetically. "Oh, that reminds me, you don't have any other clothes..."
"Uh-uh."
"Hmm, maybe we should take you shopping today then before the bar opens later so you'll have some other things to wear. Can't wear the same thing every day, right?" Lain wasn't sure what Tifa was suggesting. Was she supposed to have money?
"I've been meaning to take the kids to get some new shoes and things anyway, so we'll all go. After around ten, okay?" Tifa took care of that part for her. At least it seemed she was implying that she'd pay for everything, if what Lain got was being lumped together with what the kids got. Sweet (well, she'd be screwed otherwise.) Lain was quickly deciding that out of the people she'd met so far, Tifa was her favorite. She gave a two-fingered salute and turned away into the bathroom, where she washed all the milk off her skin and out of her hair as best she could in the sink, then dragged one of five brushes labeled "whoever" in handwriting that looked too messy to be Tifa's (Lain was sure that the bartender would be the type to have neat handwriting) but too mature to be a ten-year-old's, through her hair once or twice before her pink mess of hair looked fairly tolerable, then put it in a ponytail. According to the clock it was approximately seven by this point. Three hours. Time to read more of that gun book.
At about ten past ten Tifa leaned into the doorway of Lain's room to say that they were leaving in ten minutes. All Lain had to do was pull on her shoes and she was ready to go. Her head was full of various facts on the drawbacks of automatic pistols, which led her to various thoughts on the weapon best suited to killing ten-year-olds as the little pestulants ran circles around her while they waited in the living room for Tifa. A decent pistol would do the job, but something badass like a big old shotgun or machine gun would be so much more fun to do it with. In any case, it was not an option; Tifa seemed attached enough to the kids that she would ask Lain to leave if she killed them. She would have to find a way to poison them without anyone suspecting it was her.
The walk to the center of town was a short one, which made sense, given that Tifa's was a fairly large bar that looked like it got a pretty decent amount of business. They got to a sort of square that centered around a weird looking monument that reminded Lain of one of those toys for kids where you hold a button and it spins and emits light. Tifa guided them to a store that, by the music blasting inside, Lain would have avoided on principle. However, once inside, Lain was in joyful awe. Everything inside was like an orgasm for the eyes. Everywhere she looked, safety-pins, leather straps, black cloth, different colored lace, buckles, zippers, or crazy heels met her eyes. Then they left the teen section, Tifa saying that they'd be back. It made Lain's head feel like exploding.
Shopping for Denzel took all of two seconds; he just wanted a pair of boots that looked like they were miniatures of Cloud's, and a new jacket that made Lain admit that though the little demon would die someday, he didn't have bad taste. Marlene took a little longer. She had trouble picking between a yellow dress and a pink one after picking out a pair of sandals that looked like they came out of Rome, but when Denzel told her yellow looked like sunshine, she settled for the yellow one. It was almost cute. Then Lain resisted the urge to throw up.
Back to the teen section. Lain went on a high that seemed to last the entire trip after that. She wasn't sure what exactly happened, but by the time they got home, she had some of the most amazing clothes she had ever seen. Ever. First, a jacket. A good, durable leather jacket that would last her a pretty long time from the looks of it. A really sexy pair of leather pants that made Lain wonder where they'd been all her life, and some jeans and a pair of comfy cargo pants. A pair of black, lace-up knee high boots with a combat heel rather than a ridiculous one. A tight black leather minskirt that Tifa told her she would not be wearing while working the bar until she turned eighteen, if she stuck around that long. A black leather vest, meant to be worn open, with three tank tops in black, red, and purple respectively. A black shirt with only one strap worn at the left shoulder and none on the right, with fake-bondage straps that came out of Lain's imagination in terms of smex value. And a black leather collar, as well as a couple bracelets and a black cap that almost obscured most of her horrendous hair when it was in a ponytail. Tifa didn't seem to have an opinion on Lain's purchases, and when it came to undergarments, just left Lain with a few hundred gil and took the kids to get ice cream after asking what flavor Lain liked. Lain didn't usually spazz out about clothes, but everything that she had ever imagined might be sexy she had found in one day, and it was all the right size, and she hadn't paid for any of it. Best day ever.
They'd gotten home at around twelve-thirty, which was nice, because they hadn't taken long. Lain had never liked shopping for too long at a time. It wore on her nerves and made her feel stupid. After eating a more substantial lunch than just ice cream and digesting, Tifa and Lain both took naps. Lain decided to heed Tifa's advice on this one; the bar stayed open from four-thirty to four-thirty, and Lain would miss the sleep if she didn't get it now. At four o'clock they got up and started pulling chairs down off tables and getting ready for customers. Tifa gave her the lay of the land, as it were.
"Okay, so the heaviest drinkers or the ones who are looking to find somebody will come to the bar and stay there," Tifa said, as she made sure her pour-tops were all on right. "People who are just coming to enjoy a nice drink will probably come to the bar, get their drink, and grab a table. If there's one open, that is. Plus there'll be people who just make social calls in here. Friends of mine or Cloud's, or even sometimes parents of kids Marlene and Denzel go to school with. We get all kinds." She informed me that if a customer was caught harassing other customers, that after being asked once to stop, they were to be asked to leave. If Lain had to ask anyone to leave, Tifa said, and they didn't immediately, then Tifa would see to them. That made Lain almost want to have some kind of problem arise that night. The way Lain saw it, if Tifa could live under the same roof as a guy like Cloud and not get into serious gender role issues, then Tifa must have her own can of whoop-ass lying around somewhere. A formidably large can of whoop-ass. Tifa moved on, showing her where the various kinds of glasses were, and some basic things to remember. "I'll show you how to mix drinks as we go along, but tonight just serve things that come in bottles or things that don't have to be mixed with other things. I'm pretty sure you know how to serve a shot of tequila." Lain nodded. Tifa's so tight. What the hell's wrong with Cloud, if they're not together? Lain hadn't seen any open displays of affection between the two, and each had their own room, so all clues seemed to point to Tifa the Ultimately Attractive and Cloud the Ultimately Blonde both remaining single as of yet.
At four-thirty, Tifa flicked the sign in the polished wood and glass door so that "Closed" faced inside, declaring it open to the public. Tifa looked flawless, as per usual, and Lain could imagine how being a bartender had been a choice to provoke some adversity for Tifa. Lain, for her part, had put her hair in a high ponytail and swept it under her black cap, then put on her black choker, a black tank top and her vest, with her favorite jeans from home, ripped and beautiful in their glory. She had to say that for having the ugliest hair imaginable, she didn't look half bad.
Of course, people didn't start coming at four-thirty. To fill the gap in time, Tifa fixed Lain another sprite with those red ice cubes and whipped out a deck of cards kept in a black pack. As Tifa shuffled, the inky black backs of the cards contrasted the flashing red and white of the cards. After Tifa went easy on Lain through a couple rounds of Speed, Lain was halfway through suggesting they play BS when she remembered that you couldn't play that with only two people.
"You'd win, anyway," Lain said, shrugging as she dealt the cards for a game of Egyptian Rat. "It's a game about knowing when people are lying and when they're not. I bet you have magical Mom powers." Tifa chuckled lightly.
"Do you lie to your mom a lot?" she asked, taking a sip of a glass of water. Her voice was even, not accusatory or disapproving, just curious. Lain thought it was a strange question. The answer should have been obvious.
"Yeah," Lain replied, in a voice that sounded a lot different than it usually sounded in her head. A strange sensation of melancholy washed over her at the thought of her mother. "I lied to her a lot because she wouldn't have let me do a lot of the things I wanted to do. And her rules were always unreasonable." Lain somehow felt like she was explaining something vastly important to Tifa.
"Did you ever think that all her rules were there because she cared about you and wanted things to work out well for you?" Tifa asked, not picking up her cards when Lain ran out of cards to deal. Lain didn't look at Tifa. She looked at the bar counter. Finally she shrugged.
"Doesn't matter. Nothing bad ever happened to me that wouldn't have if I'd followed her stupid rules. Besides, I take better care of myself than she ever took care of herself."
"Really?" Lain didn't get to say any more on the subject, because as soon as the inquisitive word was uttered by Tifa, the bell attached to the door clanged. Lain looked at the large clock on the back wall. Five. Early, but who was she to judge? The first customer of the evening was a man in his mid forties, with graying brown hair and silvery stubble glinting off his chin. Tifa swept up the cards and had them back in the back they'd come from before Lain had time to think about it.
"Eve'nin', Teef," the man said in a low voice, throwing himself down in a barstool. "Usual." Tifa smiled kindly and replied, "Coming right up, Travis." She immediately busied herself with preparing a drink that looked like every kind of deadly booze you could think of combined into a whiskey glass and with some fresh lemon squeezed into it. Why anyone would drink it was beyond Lain, but if Tifa agreed then she didn't show it when she passed the concoction to the man. Travis, as Tifa called him, took a sip of the drink and swallowed without so much as a crinkling of the mouth or eyes to indicate a wince. Lain decided not to delve further into the drinking habits of the more experienced. Obviously Lain had experimented with alcohol, but the only things she'd really learned about the various kinds was that rum tasted better than vodka and tequila was good with that Odwalla limeade.
Takes all kinds, Lain thought to herself, and with that she opened a chocolate stout (nasty stuff) for a woman in her mid-thirties.
It turned out that Seventh Heaven was not only aimed at the over-thirty crowd. All age ranges crossed Lain's line of vision at some point—from those who had clearly just passed the legal-to-drink mark and were going out for a long night of bar hopping to the old-timers (Lain couldn't think of another word for them) who looked around fifty-five and as though they'd fought in some pretty gruesome wars. Most of them seemed to know Tifa, though the youngest ones didn't show signs of recognition. Lain felt rather stupid, seeing as she had to hand off half her orders to Tifa because she had no effing clue (god damn demon children and Tifa's insistence that their ears remain undamaged by profanity) what on earth a tonberry tonic "with a dagger swirl, like always" was. Consequently, Lain ended up running back and forth with a tray around the bar with a tray quite a lot.
The older crowd was very interested as to who Lain was, once they muscled their way through their first drink of the evening and realized there was, in fact, someone else behind the bar. Lain introduced herself about half a million times to various people who she had no intention of remembering at all. It was almost like one of those ridiculous family reunions were everyone asks you if you remember them, makes you feel bad for not remembering them, then says it's fine because they only saw you once when you were six months old.
Only...not at all like that, and the people seemed way cooler for the most part.
The shift went surprisingly fast, and before Lain knew it, Tifa was getting those who were still there kindly out the door at around four-twenty-five. By four-forty, everyone was gone and Tifa was cleaning up around the bar while Lain was putting empty bottles in a gargantuan recycling bin by the bagload. It was about five o'clock when everything was in order and Tifa announced that it was time to have a shot at sleeping. Lain was quite sure that if either of the demon children tried waking her this time, they wouldn't even be able to get a neurological response from her. Then again, if they did, it would be a sleeping reflex that drove her to strangle both of them simultaneously. If she had to pick, Denzel would go first.
Lain fell into bed just as a pale tinge started permeating the dark horizon.