Red Hot Omelets

William Terry Louis Andrew Carrick Jonathan Dredge Hams Reading Roger Southwark Alwick Plymouth Junior Regison III is a wealthy man visiting Waffle Island in the hopes of finding reliable business partners. Gill just can't be bothered.

As a man, if you are kissed by another man, what is the suitable course of action? His ego said "Punch him." His brain said "If you don't like him, ignore him." His heart said "You probably like him." The first option was out of the question and the third completely baseless. The right course of action obviously would be to ignore the hell out of him. Gill nodded as though to confirm his course of action and slipped out of the bedroom. He'd just take a quick shower, grab a piece of toast and head out the door without saying a single word.

Of course, that plan is difficult to carry out when the object you're ignoring is knocking on the bathroom door while you're in the shower. To not answer now could lead to dire consequences. Gill turned down the shower head and yelled, "What was that?" Please go away.

"Do you need a towel?"

Gill raised an eyebrow. What was he an idiot? Of course he had a towel! "Yes!" The fewer words that needed to be spoken, the better.

It was only post-shower that Gill realized someone spread his towel over the floor as a rug. I.e. he had no towel and he sure as hell wasn't about to use the one under his feet. What happened to the rug? He quietly contemplated stalking out naked—it was his house, after all—but opted to call for help instead. Pathetic. He just hoped his father hadn't left the room yet. Gill cracked open the door and hesitantly called out, "…Father?" Oh dear Goddes please answer. "Father?"

"I'm afraid he's still asleep," the man's voice reeked of enjoyment.

Gill frowned as Will greeted him with a smile too bright so early in the morning. "You did this," he accused, assuming the other knew full well what he meant.

"I don't understand?" the blond tilted his head. So not cute.

"Where is the bathroom rug?" Gill's voice became heavier as his mood swung lower.

Will perked up with a fist bopping against palm as though just realizing, "Oh, yes, the rug! I threw it in the wash last night, so I used a towel to cover the floor…"

Gill wanted to slap his forehead, but his hand might slip and allow the door to open wider than necessary. "Please…fetch me a towel."

"Right away, sire," Will joked and disappeared from sight. Gill wished he would disappear forever. Though he was mildly grateful for the speed with which the blond completed his task, he was not at all grateful when he held said towel behind his back with a mischievous grin. "How about a thank you?"

"…I'd rather air dry," and really, at this point he was probably half-way dry.

Will frowned, "I'm sorry."

Snatching it out of the blond's clutches, Gill made a point out of slamming the door. That had to have been planned! He fumed as he toweled himself dry and pulled on the clothes he'd neatly folded by the sink. That pervert probably planned this from the start! Why else would he ask if Gill had a towel? It was the setting of a trap!

"Maybe he wants to make up with you?" Gill's eyes scanned the menu casually, as if not even hearing the question. Angela frowned, cupping her face in her hands as she asked the bartender for another round. She worked there often as a part-timer, but lately she came there to drink rather than work. Gill on the other hand…well he hardly ever drank. Ever. He didn't even know what to order.

"You order for me," he said finally, slamming down the folded menu in a 'this is my final decision' sort of way.

Angela sighed, ordering for Gill her favorite mixer. She turned to him while lifting her glass to her lips, "So like I said, maybe he's just trying to make up with you?"

More like make out with me. Gill shrugged as though he couldn't care less, when in fact he was using every excuse in the book not to go home. He told her about their frequent conflicts. He didn't tell her about the kiss. "I doubt it. He's a player and a no good drunk." Ok, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration.

Nevertheless his friend seemed taken aback, "A player…? A drunk? I don't get it."

"Of course you don't get it, you fall for his charms just like every other girl in town!" Gill's face and hands started heating up as his glare great intense, "Admit it, every time he greets you, you start drooling!"

Angela gasped, "I do not!"

"Yes you do!" He nearly yelled, before realizing they were drawing attention. He cupped a hand to whisper, "I'm sure he's made passes at every girl on the island…"

Angela blinked, taking a sip from her drink as if thinking deeply on the subject. She slowly shook her head. "I've never seen him make a move on anyone."

Genuinely surprised, he tried again, "Hasn't he ever tried to kiss you?"

Her stare turned from one of confusion to suspicion. "Gill, you're not the type to pass around rumors. What's going on? Did something happen?"

That stabbed him in the gut, he had to admit. When she put it that way, he really had gone off the deep end. Was there any concrete evidence of Will's gallivanting other than his natural flirtatious nature? But that in itself was the problem! "I—I'm not trying to spread any rumors…ugh…. Angela, this…this is just between me and you…"

Her eyes visibly lit up as she leaned in and nodded vigorously.

Gill swallowed as the bartender slid him his drink. He took a quick swig of liquid courage and stared hard at the lines in the counter. "..e…ssed me."

"…Huh?" she was leaning in so close he could smell her alcohol laden breath.

He breathed in deeply and exhaled, before leaning close to her so that his lips reached her ears, "He kissed me."
Angela rolled back as though she'd been bitten; eyes and mouth wide like a startled goldfish. "He what?" she practically shouted, earning a couple stares and a harsh 'shhh' from Gill. She took another gulp, spinning the glass in her hands and staring at the ice intently. She didn't seem disgusted, more like…surprised. "I see. So…what about you?"

Gill blinked. "What about me?"

She glanced at him nervously, visibly tensing up as the question passed her lips, "H—how do you feel about it?"

He snapped back equally nervous, "Of course, I'm disgusted!" It surprised him somewhat at her downcast eyes. Did he say something wrong? It's the truth! I think.

"Oh," she said finally, still spinning the glass between her delicate fingers.

Gill hesitated, not quite sure what to say. Finally, he managed to stutter in defense, " I'm really not that way… I had no idea, I mean… he's just a womanizer, so…" Wait wait wait wait, this doesn't add up.

"It doesn't add up," said Angela, cryptically mirroring his thoughts. Her eyes were intensely focused, "How could he be a womanizer, and yet be interested in you? Are you sure you don't have things all mixed up?"

Mixed up? "Me?" Gill stared; flabbergasted at the idea that he might have gotten something wrong. "I…how could I possibly wrong? Just because of last night? All that proves is that he's a pervert…. Besides, this island doesn't need a sponsor or anything like that. We can build it up on our own, don't you think?" he looked to her with a pleading look in his eyes, as though he were just looking for someone to nod their head and agree with whatever he said.

"That mayb e so, but…" she seemed in a faraway place. "Maybe you have him all wrong? He's actually a nice guy."

"Angela, why are you defending him?" he spoke as though he'd just been betrayed. Or maybe it was the liquor talking. He was never good at holding his liquor. That was probably why he didn't enjoy drinking out.

Angela shook her head vehemently, "It's not like that! I'm just saying: give him another chance!"

The ice in his drink clinked, sliding against each other as his finger tapped the glass. Maybe he had gotten things all mixed up. Maybe his belligerent attitude led to all these misunderstandings. He certainly couldn't claim it never happened before… "I suppose you're right. I've been acting like a child, haven't I?"

Angela chuckled, her usual smile slowly returning, "Yes, you really have! You must really like him!"

Gill choked, coughing on his drink—he just had to hear that mid-gulp. "I told you, it's not like that! I hate that guy!"

The girl laughed louder, slapping him on the back to help him clear his throat—or more likely just to slap him. "Look at you! You're going back to being a kid again!"

The two drank late into the night with nothing but each other to lift their spirits.