Yay! Update! Sorry about the delay... life... ugg.
Enjoy!
"RRRRRGGGGGAAAAAHHHHH!"
Tim's golden head looked towards its master's in confusion, the ears perked while Allen lounged on the couch, his body sprawled over it as he sighed deeply.
His flicker of hope had been that Kanda was simply a sadistic man that wanted revenge for Tim leaping on him and lied about the two of them working together. The budding hope, however, had been uprooted rather harshly when Cross, stinking of alcohol and smoke, approached him and formally introduced him to a man that he had already met.
Now Allen's days were promising to be filled with working with the surly young man who didn't even want to meet the younger in the first place. With them being off to a terrible start, it promised the three months they would be working together to be painful.
"Sorry Timmy," Allen crooned quietly, his hand extended for the dog to come and place his head in, "you're very lucky you're a dog… don't have to deal with stupid people like this…"
"Woof…"
Allen smiled at the sound his pet made, his nails scrapping along the soft fur of his dog. He had been blind for a few years before Cross finally decided to get him a seeing-eye dog. Though Tim had only been his for about three years, Allen felt the dog was his best friend; always there for him, always patient with him, and always understanding. His arms encircled the dog's neck, pressing the animal close. Guide dogs could work from as little to four years and, though he was told Tim was only two when he got him, Allen didn't want to give his friend back to the trainers, though he knew for a fact with his disability he couldn't have a pet for a pet's sake.
The phone ringing jarred him from his thoughts, his hands releasing his dog as he allowed his pet to gather his phone.
"Thanks," Allen patted the animals head, "hello?"
"Boy!"
Allen groaned as he pulled the phone away from his ear knowing full well what was coming.
"Hello Cross," the young man mumbled, "how are you?"
"I'm all sunshine and rainbows. How do you think!?" the elder snapped, "I'm here working out the deal and you're not!"
"There's a very good reason for that!" Allen retorted, "you never told me to be there!"
"Well, now I'm telling you," Cross told him, "get!"
"And just how am I supposed to get!?" the young man asked, "in case you've forgotten, I CAN'T DRIVE!"
"Call that perverted publicist of yours! And make it snappy!"
"Why!?" Allen asked, "why is it so imperative that I get there!?"
"Because for some reason this guy's manager won't continue making this contract without you," the elder made it sound as though it was a dumb thought, "chop-chop boy!"
"Hope he's listening to you during this call," the blind man muttered bitterly as the phone shut off, his body flopping back onto the couch, groaning loudly.
His call to Tyki only reached the answering machine, Allen swallowing thickly as he prayed that the elder received his message before one in the afternoon.
Saturdays were often the times when his publicist slept in, understandable as he was rarely called to a meeting or a show before evening, meaning he had plenty on time to rest and relax. It was the same for Allen, him recording songs on the weekday rather than the weekends and he was rarely around when Cross did his business dealings.
It wasn't as though Allen was kept uninformed about the goings on with him and Tyki was always involved before Allen signed anything, but Cross insisted that he do the dealings alone and, since they never seemed to screw Allen over, the young man conceded, somewhat grateful for the stress Cross took off his shoulders.
"Guess I better get you ready to go," Allen mumbled as he gestured for Tim, his hands reaching for the edge of the couch as he began searching for the bright red, or at least, so he was told, vest that Tim wore on his outings. "Hopefully Tyki got the message," the young man pressed on, talking more so to himself than the dog, "hopefully he gets here soon…"
Air wafted from the animal's wagging tail as he sat obediently, him waiting patiently to explore what he hoped was a new world while simultaneously being an obedient guide dog.
Allen was thankful that his wish was granted by what seemed like a merciful deity.
"Coming Tyki," the young man murmured, "how fast did you drive? I only called you like fifteen-"
The door opened to a scent that was not Tyki's, the coconut and tropical scent replaced with the smell of oil paints, soba, and some sort of flower underneath the stronger odours.
"Wait… Kanda!?" Allen questioned, "the Hell are you doing here!?"
"Are you sure you're blind?" the deep voice called, questioning and curious, "that was a pretty damn good guess."
"It's not like we're helpless," the younger man muttered, "when one sense is gone, the rest are heightened."
"Ah," the elder shrugged, "well, to answer your question, I'm here on Tiedoll's… my manager's, request," Kanda straightened up, "now let's go."
"What!?"
"Go, as in-"
"Yeah, I figured that," Allen interrupted, "but I need to take my dog with me-"
"So?" Kanda questioned.
"So! He can't ride on the back of the bike!" the young man screamed, "Geez! I might be blind, but at least I'm not an idiot!"
"Repeating yourself aren't you," the elder shot back, "besides, I have a car!"
"You… what?"
"Cross told me you would need Tim today so Tiedoll insisted I bring his car," keys jangled in front of Allen's face, "now can you shut up and get in the damn car!?"
Allen had never, in his life, been at odds with someone so instantly. Bristling, the younger gripped the dogs handle and followed the elder, turning to lock his door, thankful that he no longer needed to ask someone to help him with such a simple task.
Kanda waited with the motor running as Allen opened the door for Tim, the dog slipping in the backseat only to lie down as his master ordered him too.
"How long is this going to take?" Allen grumbled as he slipped into the seat beside Kanda.
"As long as it takes," Kanda muttered, "so, how long does it take for you to find something right in front of you?"
"Almost as long as it takes for you to get a hint," the younger snapped, his head resting in his hand as he sighed deeply.
He had played for fundraisers and events before, but he had never really had much contact with the people he was working with. Usually, he'd meet the people, get their ideas, compose a piece, play it and modify as per their requests. Simple and painless. With Kanda, he was letting the elder drive him around and even having short, clipped conversations, cruel as their words may be.
"So… what exactly did you want?" Allen started, figuring to break the silence of the car, his blank eyes staring out the window.
"For what?" Kanda retorted as he turned down yet another unknown street.
"For your birthday," the blind man responded sarcastically, "what do you think!? For this art show of yours!"
"Well since you asked so nicely," the elder snapped, "music."
"Well then," Allen simpered, "would you prefer rap or techno?"
"I'd prefer someone who didn't piss me off!" Kanda informed him, "but it seems I'm just cursed like that."
"You know, you don't need to sign the contract," the blind man pointed out.
"Neither do you," the elder informed him, "but since your popularity is rising, Tiedoll thinks it would be good for my career too."
"At least you're honest," Allen grumbled, "but I'm in the same boat; Cross'll do anything for my popularity," he sighed deeply, "though I guess I've worked with worse."
"Such as?"
"Cross, for starters," the younger muttered, his hand reaching back for his dog to sniff his fingers.
"On the plus side, I only need to suffer with you for three months," Kanda informed him, Allen turning from Tim to glare at the elder.
"Might not even be that long," Allen told him, "we don't even need to see each other…"
"Doubt it," the elder grumbled as he pulled to a park, "Tiedoll insists that I work 'closely' with people when I work with them at all."
"Joy," Allen muttered as he opened the door for his pet, Tim's nails clicking on the underground parking lot's cement.
Using Tim, the blind man followed the elder towards where he assumed their managers were, neither one saying much on the walk up the stairs.
"You're late!"
Cross' usual welcome barely made an impact on Allen as the young man sighed deeply, his feet taking him towards the chair Cross informed him was open.
"Sorry," the young man muttered, "I apologize for making you wait for a meeting I had no idea was going on."
"Good," the elder snapped, his hands flipping through what Allen assumed was paper, "sign."
"Now now," an old voice cut in, a smile evident in his words and soft tone, "we need to explain the terms to him-"
"I've read it and I agree with it," Cross informed him, "all he needs to do is sign it."
"But… wait," Allen started, "you said on the phone you needed to finish the contract-"
"And you took so damn long to get here we did," the younger's manager informed him, "now," he grabbed the blind man's hand, "here's a pen, sign."
"Cross," the grizzled voice cut in once more, "there are one or two more things we need to talk over."
"Such as?" Allen asked.
"Well, for starters, my name's Tiedoll," the man informed the blind man, "now, what your manager agreed too was the terms of payment and pretty basic things like that," pages flipping reached Allen's ears, "I don't think we really need to go over the confidentiality clause," the younger could hear the grin on his features, "but there's one little hitch…"
"Lemme guess," the blind man started, "you want me to compose a piece around his art, right?"
"Right you are," Tiedoll told him, "but I'm sure Kanda can describe what he's painting to you, right Kanda?"
"Provided he knows what colours are…" Kanda grumbled under his breath.
"I wasn't born blind," Allen pointed out while glaring where Kanda sat across from him.
"Well, I'm sure you can figure something out," the elder's manager seemed to brush off Kanda's attitude.
"That doesn't seem like a big hitch," the younger countered.
"It does when you factor in your schedules," Tiedoll told him apologetically, "see, there isn't much time for the two of you to work together, so… there might need to be a compromise about your schedules."
At this Allen lifted his head. If Tiedoll was suggesting what Allen assumed he was suggesting, then it would most likely mean he'd have to cancel a few shows, giving him time away from the stage. His heart leapt at the budding hope in his chest; he'd worked so often for so long, this deal with a man that might make his life miserable seemed like a dream.
That is, until Cross spoke up.
"If you're asking the boy to drop some of his shows, you can forget it!" Cross interjected.
Allen shot the other an unseeing glare, thankful that Tiedoll seemed to be on his side.
"It's just a few for a little while," the other countered, "besides, a new season is starting soon, so it wouldn't be that much of a loss."
"To you-"
"Cross," Allen interrupted, hoping to help convince the elder, "if it's just a handful of shows, it wouldn't be so bad-"
"We haven't worked to come this far to go back-"
"We're not going back-" the younger countered.
"If you don't jump on every opportunity someone else takes it from you!" Cross snapped angrily.
"You mean like this opportunity here?" Allen pointed out, guessing he was winning if the silence was anything to judge. "Look," the younger started, "it's not like this is forever, just for three months and if this thing goes well, it could mean twice as many opportunities," Allen contained the cringe the thought caused him as he let his greedy manager mull over his options.
"There's still no guarantee!" Cross pointed out, though Allen could tell by his wavering voice that he was winning.
"Come on," the young man tried for the final push, "think of how Tyki could publicize this… and think of what doors it could open for us!"
Allen's sharp ears detected a sharp breath from Cross, the other two surprisingly keeping quiet as they watched the ordeal transpire with fascination. Silently, the young man prayed that Cross had a moniker of mercy that would just say yes.
"See Kanda?" Tiedoll murmured softly, "he's excited for this."
"Not for the reasons you think," Kanda muttered under his breath, "besides, there might be a God after all and his manager might say no."
"Well that depends," Cross interjected, "what nights were you thinking for them?"
And that's where it stops... yeah... so, reviews please?