Chapter Four

Help You, Help Me

It was a calm and quiet afternoon, the type of afternoon that Kyrie would usually hate. Yet after her first two weeks inside the insanity that was Mordhaus, "calm" and "quiet" were slowly becoming her favorite things. She was resting peacefully on Alvin's bed, watching television upside down,

"It's not that I don't believe you Al, it's just that he can't be that way. He just…can't!" she said, tossing a piece of popcorn into her mouth.

"I'm telling you, he's nothing but a Lothario, a Casanova, a whatever you want to call it." he said beside her, "He's a womanizer, and he uses his guitar skills and status in Dethklok to rake in the women. Haven't you seen Dethklok Minute? MILF's, GMILF's, soon-to-be-MILF's, and FBL's are his favorites, and….are you even listening?"

She shook her head no and giggled, watching the flashing lights on the television. Alvin sighed, and turned his attention back to the TV as well. They were watching a past concert of Dethklok's, trying to pinpoint any useful tips or techniques to build upon for their own performance. They had wanted to meet with Dethklok for extra help, but Leo had forbid it.

"Look at Pickles on drums, it's so amazing. I can't believe how fast he is…" Kyrie said, grabbing more popcorn. "Oh! Look Al! It's Skwisie!"

Alvin rolled his eyes, "You're in denial. Even if he were interested in you, you would only be putting yourself in a bad situation. These guys are some of the most famous people in the world, none of them want to settle down anytime soon."

"I don't want to settle down either! I just…I want to be close to him!"

"What for?"

"You don't know what it's like…" she angrily grumbled, reaching for more popcorn. "No more popcorn?"

Alvin glanced over at the empty glass bowl, "I guess not. Listen Kyrie, I know things have been hard for you in the past, but what good could possibly come from getting close to any of them, especially Skwisgaar? What makes you think you even can?"

She snatched the bowl and hopped off the bed, "I could if I really wanted to." She said in a matter-of-fact tone, "I'll get more popcorn, can you pause it 'til I'm back?" she asked as she exited the room. Alvin sighed and hit pause, feeling a little bad that he had unintentionally upset her.

Kyrie's pink bunny slippers made a soft "clop" sound as she walked down the hall. She was looking for a Roadie, since Charles had made it very clear it was against the rules for any of them to go into the kitchen. She didn't understand why he had to be so strict about things, 'Are there scary monsters loose here or something?'she thought to herself, giggling at the idea. She looked down the hall, no one was in sight.

Her mind drifted back to the conversation with Alvin, "What makes him think he knows so much about Dethklok?" she asked out loud, "Or that he has any right to tell me I don't stand a chance."

Despite her efforts, Alvin's words still lingered in her mind. Maybe she wouldn't be good enough for Skwisgaar, maybe he was honestly only interested in MILF variety women. She scowled at the word 'MILF'. It provoked unpleasant memories of her mother and random boys from Kyrie's high school. She looked down another hall, no one was there either.

She frowned, looking down at the empty bowl. "I bet if I get more fast nobody will even notice." Kyrie looked around, making sure no one would catch her, and then proceeded down a hall.

She starred at the stone ground, still unable to keep her mind off Skwisgaar. Everything she had read in her mothers magazines made him seem so perfect. They had called him a gentleman, and said that he respected women. The interviews stated that he was well spoken, and that he was an amazing guitarist. She smiled a little, feeling somewhat confident. They had also pointed out that he had a troubled past, a neglectful mother, and that he did not know his father.

"Just like me!" Kyrie whispered excitedly, "Even if it's not happy things, we are so much alike. Al can't ignore that fact."

She perked up, hearing the sound of footsteps in the distance. She began to panic, looking around for someplace to hide. She spotted an armor that looked as if it were from feudal Japan, and ducked behind it.

"I understand that you want to make changes, but you should seriously consider speaking with me before you make such drastic requests." A familiar voice said, Kyrie stood stiff as the footsteps came closer. "That also bothered me. I specifically requested no bands with any female members. Dethklok has enough issues staying focused, I don't need any women around here making it more difficult."

Kyrie watched as the figure passed by her, it was Charles. She couldn't help but feel angry and hurt, 'I'm not making stuff more difficult…' she thought to herself.

"Yes, yes." Charles said on the phone, "You want to reach a broader audience, but there are some things that this band will not do, and the alcohol restriction is where they draw the line. They--Yes, I'll hold." Kyrie stood, clinging to the armor until she could no longer hear his footsteps. She cautiously peeked around the hall, making sure it was clear before she let out a sigh of relief.

"That was close." She said to herself, "Living here is like a crazy adventure." She advanced down the hall, making a mental note to discuss what she had overheard with Alvin later on.

Kyrie stopped in front of a large wooden door with KITCHEN written in bold letters. She hugged the empty popcorn bowl close to her and pushed the door open, afraid of what bizarre things might be on the inside of this particular room. To her surprise the kitchen seemed normal and professional, with white floor tiles and light yellow walls. The only thing which struck her as odd was the demonically themed kitchenware. As she marveled at it, an indistinguishable figure ran between two counters ahead of her.

"H…hello?" she asked, edging her way towards the counters. "I just wanted to know if I could get more, uhm, popcorn?" the figure rushed past her again, and her eyes locked onto it.

Kyrie watched 'it' run back and forth between the counters, muttering things in French. She was stunned by the odd shape of its face, where crude stitches held together patches of discolored flesh and teeth were poking out of what appeared to be a mouth. Although it looked very strange, she couldn't help but feel oddly fascinated by it. A ghastly, unworldly creature was loose in the only normal seeming room of the house. She searched her mind for the limited French she could remember from school,

"Excusez-moi?" she asked. It stopped, and starred at her. "Parlez-vous l', uhm, English?"

"Of course I speak English!" it said, then proudly boasted, "I am Jean-Pierre, the world famous chef."

She cocked an eyebrow, "Are you the cook here?"

"Why else would I be in the kitchen unless I were!" he said in a irritated tone, Kyrie smiled and pushed the empty bowl towards him,

"More popcorn please!"

"Ugh!" he said, and ran around her to finish preparing dishes. She watched him pour red soup into skull shaped bowls, and prepare spoons with tiny dagger ends, "I am to busy, make it yourself."

Kyrie frowned, "But I don't know where the popcorn is."

"Hey, hurry up in there." she looked towards the door on the other side of the room, recognizing Nathan's voice.

"We am hungry's!" Toki added.

Kyrie looked back over at Jean-Pierre who was rushing to finish the meals. She set down the empty bowl and tied back her short raven colored hair. "I cook at home all the time, what can I help with?" she asked.

"Cooking in your little kitchen at home and cooking for my Masters are two very different things. I do not need help." Suddenly a bowl slipped out of his grasp and fell onto the floor. He cursed under his breath in French and moved to get the mop, but Kyrie stood in front of him, with the mop already in hand.

"I can get it up." She said smiling, "You finish the food."

Jean-Pierre starred at her a moment, confused. "We's not gots' all day!" Skwisgaar shouted from the other room, the chef quickly got back to work while Kyrie mopped the mess up. After cleaning it up and setting the mop aside, she eagerly searched for more things to do.

"Get napkins." The chef said, mixing something on the stove. She nodded and retrieved black napkins from a counter, and placed a few on each tray. She curiously eyed the various spices on the counter opposite of her,

"Do the soup's need anything else in them?" she asked.

"No, they are already perfect." He said, furiously stirring the pot with a disfigured hand. Kyrie took a taste of one of the soups and nodded to herself, it did need something more. She added a dash of garlic, pepper, and sage to each bowl, hurrying to stir them before Jean-Pierre noticed.

"Now mix this." He said. She ran over to the stove, taking over for the chef while he rushed out to deliver the soup to Dethklok. She wondered if her additions would please the band, and then looked over at the trays that were left on the counter. Jean-Pierre could only carry two at a time.

"I can help carry the last one!" she said when he returned.

"No, no." he said, trying to take the final three in at the same time.

Kyrie sat down the pot and rushed over to help him, grabbing the final tray before it fell to the ground. "I got it." She said, the same friendly smile on her face.

He starred at her a moment, and then smiled back the best he could. "Follow me. Please do not disturb my Masters." She nodded.

They walked down a short hall which led into a dining room. Dethklok sat at a long dinner table facing them. "About TIME." Murderface spat, glaring at Jean-Pierre.

"Oh look Toki, it's yous' little girlfriend." Skwisgaar whispered amongst the band. Toki glared over at him from the opposite side of the table, Skwisgaar's constant teasing regarding the girl was slowly eating away at him.

"I apologize, my Lords." The chef sincerely stated, "Here are the rest of the meals." Kyrie looked around him, trying to catch a glimpse of Skwisgaar. The chef placed the first tray in front of Nathan,

"Uh, why is Zoom Zoom with you?" Nathan asked. She looked at him confused by the mispronunciation of her nickname, as the chef placed the second tray in front of Murderface,

"She has been kind enough to help." Jean-Pierre responded, directing Kyrie to place the final tray in front of Toki. She gazed over at Skwisgaar, oblivious to the evil stare Toki was giving her. "We will return with dessert." The chef said, heading back to the kitchen. Kyrie followed behind him, looking over her shoulder at Skwisgaar.

Pickles poked him with his elbow, "Someone's checkin' you out."

He looked up, and Kyrie blushed and quickly looked away. Skwisgaar shrugged his shoulders, and continued eating.

"This is fucking delicious." Nathan said, eating another spoonful of soup. "It's like it has more…more…"

"Zazz." Murderface said, "Definitely more zazz."

"Better drinks' up guys." Toki swallowed another mouthful of alcohol, "It last time we gets' more today."

Pickles grumbled, more upset about the temporary loss of his favorite beverage than anyone else. His main alcohol stash had been cleared out, and so were most of his hiding places. "This is so brutal…" he sighed.

Jean-Pierre and Kyrie returned, carrying small white bowls decorated with black skulls on a silver platter. "Here are the desserts, my Lords." The chef said, placing a bowl in front of each. "Is everything to your liking?"

"Did Zoom Zoom add something to the soup?" Nathan asked, having already finished his bowl. The chef eyed the girl who laughed nervously,

"I, er… was it bad?" she asked.

"It's delicious!!" Kyrie jumped back a little scared, as Nathan shouted that in a deep, dark voice.

Murderface slurped another spoonful of soup, "It's pretty good." Kyrie looked over at Skwisgaar, who ignored her presence and continued eating his food.

"You have to cook with all our meals now." Nathan demanded.

"If you want to." Pickles quickly added.

Kyrie's eyes lit up, "I'd love to!"

Jean-Pierre nodded, "If this is what my Masters wish, then she shall be my assistant. Collect the dishes."

"Yes sir!" she said, accustomed to following orders. She collected the soup bowls while they finished dessert, a bright smile on her face.

After she disappeared back into the kitchen, Toki turned to his bandmates. "Why she happy to pick up dishes? It's not's natural."

"Every time I seen her she looks like that, all…happy." Pickles said. "This aint a happy place."

"I wanna smash those things on her feet." Murderface added, referring to her bunny slippers. "I mean, why would you wear something like that here? I hate rabbits, it's just asking for trouble."

Nathan was the only one who didn't seem to mind, "I have to admit, it is weird having such a girly-girl around here, but it's not so bad. At least she can cook." They all seemed to agree, at least with the last part.

"Mon dieu!!" they heard Jean-Pierre yell, the sound of glass dishes shattering echoed from the kitchen. Dethklok starred at the hall leading to the kitchen, wondering what could have happened.

After a few moments of silence, they finally heard Kyrie laughing, "I…I'm ok!"

x - x - x - x - x - x - x

Alvin flipped through the channels on the television, sighing to himself. Kyrie had been missing at least an hour and he was debating on whether or not he should go out looking for her. "She seemed pretty annoyed when she left, maybe she's just blowing off some steam." he said, stretching out onto his bed.

He closed his eyes, remembering when Leo had first dragged the shy and slightly awkward girl to their practice. It was shortly after their old drummer had walked out on the band, unable to stand Leo's bullying anymore. She had cried to them that could not play drums well, and although Alvin would have been happy to let her go, Leo wouldn't hear it. Alvin shook his head. Ever since they were children, whenever Leo saw something he wanted he took it, often disregarding the consequences of his actions. "Idiot." He murmured to himself.

"Aww, were you daydreaming about me?" Alvin shot up, Leo was leaning aganist the frame of their room door. "That's so sweet."

Alvin rolled his eyes, "Haven't seen you around lately, what have you been up to?"

Leo walked into the room, looking around as if it were his first time there, "Oh you know, just here and there. Just came back to get somethin'." he knelt down and unzipped a suitcase, moving things around, "Heard Zuzu in the kitchen, that chick causes a commotion where ever she goes."

"In the kitchen?" Alvin asked, "But we're not allowed in there."

"I know." Leo said, laughing. He tucked a black item from his suitcase into his pocket and zipped it back up, "She's always getting into something. I told you it would be fun to keep her in the band."

Alvin shrugged, "Was she alright at least?"

"Yea, just dropped some dishes or somethin', so clumsy." Leo headed out the door, "See ya."

Alvin relaxed on his bed again, looking up at the ceiling. "Maybe I should go check on her anyway?" he asked out loud. He felt his pocket vibrate, and pulled out his cell phone.

Sorry Al.

In trouble with the cook.

Got it under control.

Finish watching it without me.

Kyrie

He chuckled and tucked his phone back into his pocket. "At least she doesn't seem mad at me."

x - x - x - x - x - x - x

Pickles sat on the ground in his room, anxiously tugging a dreadlock. "Where is it…where is it…" he asked, slowly rocking himself back and forth. "It has to be some in here –wait!"

He jumped up from the ground and ran into his bathroom, yanking up a floorboard. Underneath the floorboard wrapped in dust and cobwebs was a blue glass bottle of tequila. He let out a sigh of relief, "I knew they couldn't find it all…"

He grabbed the bottle, immediately realizing from it's light weight that it was empty. He placed it to his lips anyway, in a feeble attempt to suck out anything which may have been left. Only the tequila vapors were present, teasing his alcoholic hunger. Pickles stood and smashed the bottle onto the floor.

"God damn douche bags taking all my damn liquor." He angrily cursed, leaving his room to search for alcohol.

As he trudged down the hall Pickles clenched and unclenched his fists, feeling the onset of alcohol withdrawal. His hands were beginning to shake uncontrollably, and he was unable to think clearly. He groaned softly, ignoring the figure which passed by him.

"Are you ok?" he heard Kyrie ask. Pickles eyes seemed dark, with bags hanging underneath them.

"Fine." He miserably responded, continuing down the hall.

"You don't seem fine." She said, growing concerned. She ran to catch up with him instead of returning to her room.

Pickles groaned again, irritated by her presence. "Unless you can get me booze, go away…"

"Oh." Kyrie said, keeping pace with him, "Jean-Pierre told me about that, you guys aren't allowed to drink a lot anymore, that must really suck." Pickles glared over at her,

"Of course it sucks." He bitterly retorted.

Without another word she took off running down the hall. Pickles decided if she was running that direction, then he was going the opposite so he wouldn't be bothered. He retreated back to his room and kicked open the door, not bothering to shut it again. He collapsed on top of his bed, trying to fight off a dull headache when three knocks came to the door. "Can I come in?" he heard Kyrie ask.

"Go away." he said, pulling a pillow over his head.

"But I brought something to help..." she said, stepping into his messy room.

He reluctantly pulled himself into a sitting position, more curious than annoyed about what her 'help' would be. In her arms were several bottles of wine and a few cans of beer that she had smuggled from the kitchen. His face lit up, and he snatched a can of beer out of her hands and chugged it. He quickly finished the first can and snagged the second, "Wow..." she said, amazed at his drinking speed.

Pickles sighed happily and slid to the floor, "It's been so long since I had a drink."

"But I just saw you drink at dinner." Kyrie said, looking down at him.

"Dude that was hours ago." He reached for a bottle of wine and she passed it to him. He drank a small amount and quickly spit it out, "What the hell? This is cooking wine, I can't drink this."

"Why not?" she asked, unable to understand what the problem was.

"Cooking wine has more salt and crap in it, it'll make me sick."

She frowned, "Well….I could get more if you wanted. Jean-Pierre only said he couldn't give you more to drink, he didn't say anything about me."

Pickles gave her a puzzled look, "Why are you trying to get me alcohol?"

"You looked miserable without it…and…" she smiled, holding out the only bottle she had taken that wasn't designated for cooking, "I wanted to ask something of you. Kind of a you scratch my back, and I'll scratch yours thing."

"What do you want?" he hungrily eyed the bottle in her hands.

"I'll get you alcohol, if you help me with drumming."

"No." Pickles laughed, and reached out to snatch the bottle from her.

She quickly pulled it away and huffed, "Then no alcohol for you."

Pickles rose from the ground and gazed at Kyrie, making her feel uncomfortable. She nervously glanced towards the door, thinking maybe it was a mistake to come there alone. He folded his arms across his chest,

"If this is gunna happen, then I want the alcohol that I want, not just stuff you randomly pick up."

"Of course!" Kyrie happily responded, "But…I can't buy any, I'm still to young."

Pickles poked through the nightstand next to his bed, "It's fine, I know it's gotta be more booze locked up in here, you just have to find it." He pulled a notepad and pen from the drawer, and began to scribble down what he wanted, "You get this stuff, and I'll give you a lesson."

"More than one lesson." She said.

Pickles looked over at her, "Two lessons?"

"I want a lesson for every bottle I bring back."

He frowned and looked down at his list, there were already at least 15 requests and he had barely begun. "A lesson for every five you bring me?" he bargained.

"No." she grumbled, "Every two."

He thought about this a moment, and then nodded. The Roadies weren't allowed to bring him anything to drink, so having her sneak it in would be his only option. "Fine." He ripped the page off the notepad and handed it to her. "But if you can't find what I want then no deal."

Kyrie nodded, looking over the list of 40 or so items, "This is a lot…are you stocking up on it?"

Pickles laughed, "Stocking up? This is all just for tonight."

Notes : A little late on the update, I've had the chapter done for a while but I've been caught up with the holidays! Don't forget to leave a review, thanks :D