A/N: For anyone not familiar with it, the Big Brothers/Big Sisters program "makes meaningful, monitored matches between adult volunteers […] and children […], ages 6 through 18, in [order to] develop positive relationships that have a direct and lasting effect on the lives of young people." It's like a sponsor/role model/mentor type thing.
Disclaimer: The characters in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.
The first day of ZaFest dawned cool, and Yuri shivered a little in his tank top and shorts as he stood barefoot on the back steps after letting Repede out. Yawning, he stretched and seriously considered cocooning himself in his blankets for a few more hours. His shift last night had seemed to run much longer than usual, and he'd been too keyed up to sleep once he'd gotten home. He was still tired and hadn't much wanted to get out of bed, but if Flynn was going to make the effort, he didn't have much choice.
Heading back inside, he went straight for the kitchen. He needed something to wake him up before he even bothered getting dressed for the day. Sugar. Something sweet. And coffee. Rummaging through the fridge, he pulled out eggs, milk, and butter. There was cinnamon and sugar in the pantry and bread on the counter. Once the coffee maker was well on its way to providing several cups of revitalizing caffeine, he began whisking up the ingredients for French toast and got to work cooking breakfast.
Flynn emerged as the first couple pieces were coming out of the frying pan. He paused just inside the kitchen, then Yuri heard him move to the table and pull out a chair to sit down.
"So, you really do cook."
"What the hell? I made chili and chicken just the other day, you ass." He tossed a grin over his shoulder to be sure Flynn knew he wasn't actually angry before going back to prepping the bread to get fried up. "Get the table set up, and maybe I'll share breakfast, too."
Immediately, he heard the scrape of the chair against the floor. The cabinet doors and squeaking drawers made hollow thunking sounds behind him as Flynn pulled out plates and silverware. Yuri smiled to himself as he flipped the slices in the pan and added more butter. Flynn must have been really impressed with his cooking to be moving so quickly on his orders. It wasn't long before the two slices in the pan were done, and then there were only two left. No matter what he'd said about getting the table set, Yuri had planned from the start to have enough for both of them.
"How do you take your coffee?" Flynn asked.
"With about a half an inch of sugar in the bottom and some milk to top it off."
There was a pause, then: "Are you serious?"
"I'll do it."
"No, I can make it. You're making us breakfast, after all. It's the least I can do."
While Flynn took care of the coffee, Yuri finished up the French toast and piled the last of the half dozen slices onto a plate. He snagged a bottle of syrup out of the fridge as he carried their breakfast to the table. Flynn brought over the nearly overflowing mugs and set them down carefully before taking a seat. He was already dressed for the day, and as Yuri tucked into his meal, he couldn't help watching Flynn out of the corner of his eye.
He'd chosen a black t-shirt, for once, likely as a way to blend in, though that wasn't really necessary. It looked good on him. Yuri had known from their fights that Flynn didn't let himself go just because he was an artsy type, but the shirt he wore now practically clung to him, making his athletic build all the more apparent.
Exasperated, Yuri dropped his fork onto his plate and took a long swig of coffee. The last thing he needed was to be looking at Flynn that way. Nothing but trouble could come of that. He licked his lips as he set his mug down.
"Doesn't that get in the way when you eat?"
He looked up to meet Flynn's eyes. "What?"
"Your tongue ring." Flynn was pointing at him with his fork. "Doesn't it get in the way?"
"Nah. Once I got used to it, it wasn't really a problem."
"Why a tongue ring? Why not an earring or something? Does it have something to do with your band?"
Yuri laughed. "Not in the way you're thinking. I only got it done because of Judy. We went out drinking one night, and I woke up with this. Pretty sure it was her idea."
"Why keep it, then? If you didn't want it in the first place, why not just take it out and let the hole close up?"
"It doesn't really bother me that much. Besides, it makes a good reminder not to get blackout drunk when Judy's around."
Flynn looked like there was something he wanted to say to that. It probably wasn't anything Yuri would have liked to hear, because he opted to keep whatever it was to himself. Rather than saying anything else, he packed away another slice of French toast.
It had been a little while since Yuri had cooked for anyone but himself. He'd forgotten how nice it felt to see that someone enjoyed his food. As he started back in on his own breakfast, he tried not to smile too widely over something so small and stupid.
|has judy called?|
As he slumped in the passenger seat of Flynn's car, Yuri stared at the text from Karol and hoped he wouldn't be too disappointed if Judy couldn't make it back in time. Karol had been asking after her practically since she'd left, even though she had his number and wouldn't have left him out of the loop.
|no stl erly|
|i hope she makes it. mom n dad wanna see me play!|
|hop so to u on way?|
|yeah were just hiting donwtown|
|sam met pk ntrns nw?|
There was a long pause before Karol's response set off the cymbal crash text alert.
|yuri u gotta learn how to text.|
|well see you there|
|k cu|
When Karol didn't text him back, Yuri went back to the message he'd sent about meeting at the northwest entrance to the park and held his phone up for Flynn to see.
"You can read this, right?"
"Yuri, I'm trying to drive. Is it always this busy down here?"
"It's a festival." He glanced at the message once more before putting his phone away, grinning. "Karol says I need lessons in texting."
"It wouldn't surprise me."
He sounded irritated, but that was probably due more to the immense concentration it was apparently taking to guide them safely through the slow moving chaos of downtown Zaphias traffic. That was another problem, right there. Flynn never seemed to lighten up. He took everything seriously. Maybe he didn't know how to have fun. Maybe he'd been born serious.
"Flynn, do you not like having fun?"
"Do I—what?" The question actually confused him enough to make him look away from the road, however briefly. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Just wondering if you stay so tightly wound because you can't help it or because you don't want to loosen up."
"Affliction versus affectation?" A tiny, crooked smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he glanced at Yuri from the corner of his eye. "I like having fun. Remember that time a few years ago when all the police in the city sparkled for a week?"
"Yeah…?"
"Well…you remember they never found out who it was that caused it?"
Yuri couldn't have grinned any harder if he'd tried. "You did that? No shit?"
"My dad and I used to prank each other for our birthdays. That year, I put confetti and glitter in the AC units of all the patrol cars. I'm the reason they installed security cameras in the police parking lot."
"Me and the guys gave the beat cops so much shit for that! Damn."
He laughed, remembering. He hadn't had a whole lot of respect for that sort of lower level, power tripping authority to begin with, but when a cop was bearing down on you looking like he'd wanted to be the prettiest princess at the ball, it was impossible to take him seriously.
"Your old man didn't turn you in for it, did he?"
"No. The pranks were…well, I can't really say they were our secret, but they were ours. He got me back by giving me bear hugs every day he came home with glitter on him. I sparkled for days."
Imagining that, Yuri laughed again, softly. So, Flynn had a bit of a criminal background. In Yuri's experience, that sort of prank ended up attached to phrases like 'criminal mischief.' Not to mention that cops didn't tend to leave their vehicles unlocked. Flynn would have had to break into the cars to pull that off. He was ballsier than Yuri had expected, particularly since he probably would have been easily identified if he'd been spotted.
"So, your dad's a cop?" It explained some stuff about him, for sure.
"He was. He died a few years back. Killed on the job."
He'd never heard Flynn's voice go quiet like that. The mood in the car hadn't exactly soured, but suddenly Yuri felt a bit callous for having laughed. He slumped a little further in his seat and looked out the window.
"Sorry."
"It's all right. It took me a while to get over it, but…he died protecting people. I'll always be proud of him for that."
Not sure what to say to that, Yuri just nodded. Recognizing where they were, he rapped a knuckle against the glass.
"There's a parking garage on this side a couple blocks up."
"I see it."
It had gotten awkward between them quick, but Flynn's next question shocked Yuri right out of that.
"You're the boy Niren sponsored in the Big Brothers program, aren't you?"
As they traded bright sunshine for the shadowed concrete of the parking garage, Yuri looked at him askance.
"Where'd you hear that?"
"Niren was friends with my dad. He used to bring his guitar with him when he visited, sometimes. At first, when you told me the guitar's name was Anemone, I thought it was just a coincidence. Two guitars named after that flower, though, would be a pretty big coincidence."
"Guess so." He looked out the window once more, watching rows of cars and dingy slabs of concrete roll past.
Flynn knew Niren. Weird. He wondered how Niren and Flynn's dad had met. Niren hadn't been a cop, he'd been a retired soldier. Either Flynn's dad must have served, or the two of them had crossed paths before Niren had enlisted. He'd never mentioned any Scifos, though if Flynn knew about his volunteering with the Big Brother program, he must have heard some stories about Yuri. He smirked. It couldn't have been anything good.
"I never really hung around while he was visiting with my dad, so I don't know if he talked much about you. He did say something to me, once."
If Flynn was expecting him to ask, he was in for a long wait. Luckily, that didn't seem to be the case.
"He told me he knew a kid my age, and that it amazed him, sometimes, how we could be so different and so similar at the same time."
Yuri snorted.
"Yeah. It didn't make a lot of sense to me, either. Not until recently."
He couldn't help smiling at that. "I told you so."
Flynn pulled into a parking space and they climbed out of the car and began the walk back down to street level.
"I think I can be forgiven my disbelief."
"You can think whatever you want."
"You weren't exactly easy to get along with."
"Says the guy who tried to poison me."
"I wasn't trying to poison you. It was a three layer bean dip."
"It was a biohazard. You should be thankful I didn't call in a hazmat team."
"That's a little harsh. Being able to make chili and French toast doesn't make you a food critic."
"Having taste buds does, but I guess you wouldn't know about that."
They stepped out into the sun, and Yuri paused a moment to stretch. The warmth sat heavy on his t-shirt as it gradually seeped through to banish the morning's lingering chill. It was a little breezy, and the day was promising to get warmer still. All in all, it looked like the city had picked the right weekend for ZaFest.
Although it was still business as usual along Main Street, several smaller roads leading to the art district and the park had been cordoned off to allow for foot traffic and vendors' booths. It was barely noon, but already, restaurants with outdoor seating were filling up as people came out to have a bite and watch the festivities. Small businesses—galleries, toy stores, specialty clothing shops, bakeries, bookstores, chocolate shops, jewelry boutiques—all of them had their doors propped wide open and wares out on display to welcome in the masses that had come out for the festival. Local artists had set up shop in booths lining the sidewalks, selling their paintings, photography, ceramics, stained glass, and more. The artisan booths were interspersed with food trucks and little tents that had staked out curb space to represent local restaurants from throughout Zaphias.
Even so soon after breakfast, the smell of cinnamon proved too enticing, and Yuri stopped to get himself a churro. As he did, Flynn went to take a look at a booth run by an artist selling miniature trees made of stone chips and twisted wire. One of them, crafted with pink stones, looked like it was covered in blooming flowers, and he bought it just as Yuri was catching up. Tucking it into his small messenger bag, he explained that it was a gift for Estelle.
They stopped by a woodcarving table owned by a friend of Yuri's who went by the nickname Otter. A fellow musician, Otter carved ocarinas, and was all too happy to play a few bars in demonstration. They couldn't stay long, since Karol was waiting to meet up with them, so, with the promise to stop by and chat later, Yuri led Flynn on toward the park.
It wasn't a very long walk; only a few blocks until the storefronts and studio apartments began giving way to benches surrounded by spindly trees and carefully tended bushes and flower beds, little hints of nature leading like breadcrumbs to its foothold in the heart of Zaphias. The park was held separate from the city by a tall brick and iron fence mostly covered in ivy and morning glories. It had four entrances and was enormous: big enough for the city to have set up three separate stage areas for different groups to be performing throughout the festival. As they approached the northwest gate, Yuri spotted Karol and his parents and waved a greeting.
Immediately, Karol tore down the sidewalk, grinning hugely. His excitement faded as he got closer, however, and by the time he was close enough to talk to them, he looked downright accusatory. He didn't stop moving, just reversed direction and began walking backwards, keeping pace with Yuri and Flynn.
"What's he doing here?" he demanded, turning his frown on them both.
Flynn looked as if he wanted to ask the same question, though for much different reasons. This was the first time he had seen Karol since his little blow up outside Keiv Rock. He'd taken to hiding in his room whenever Dragon Swarm got together to practice, which wasn't precisely anything new, but Yuri knew the difference between avoidance born of intense dislike and that stemming from awkwardness. Flynn probably wasn't sure what to say to Karol, and the thought that he'd let himself get backed into the proverbial corner by the prospect of apologizing to a middle schooler amused the hell out of Yuri.
"It's cool, boss. I'm just taking him on a little field trip." He smirked at Flynn. "To learn."
They made it back to where Karol's parents were waiting in the next few steps, and Joy hurried up to him to claim her hug. Rupert was standing off to the side and waved distractedly while fiddling with his new camera. He always had a new camera or phone or something. Yuri had liked the Capels since meeting them, but Joy was a hugger, and that had taken some getting used to. She pulled Karol close and kept an arm around Yuri's back, one hand on his hair above his ear, as she gave Flynn the same frown Karol had.
"You were extremely rude to my boys last time, Mr Scifo."
"Yeah, Flynn." Yuri smirked at him. "I think you've got something to say to Karol, don't you?"
Oh, he'd been waiting for this ever since Flynn had agreed to come. The levels of pure awkward were skyrocketing as Flynn froze up and fumbled for words, confronted unexpectedly by an innocent kid he'd insulted and that kid's doting parents. All four of them stared him down as Flynn tried to regain some control of the situation. This was gonna be good.
"I— About last time…. I…said some things in the heat of the moment—" He broke off to glare pointedly at Yuri who showed some teeth, glee in his grin. "—that I shouldn't have said. I've been meaning to apologize for that. I was angry and out of line. I'm sorry."
Out of the corner of his eye, Yuri caught Karol looking up at him. He shrugged and stepped out of Joy's embrace. It was up to Karol whether he would accept the apology or not. Yuri might have expected Flynn to clear the air, but he wasn't going to play peacemaker if it turned out that his drummer and his housemate simply couldn't get along.
Watching Flynn doubtfully, Karol asked: "What sort of music does Dragon Swarm play?"
"Speed metal," Flynn answered promptly. "Your music includes classical influences and employs techniques common to power metal and technical death metal."
Turning to Yuri, Karol did not look impressed. "He sounds like a textbook."
"Be glad you don't live with him."
Easy as that, Karol grinned and the tension was broken. He stepped forward, offering Flynn a hand to shake.
"Apology accepted. Now, come on! Depth Charge is up soon, and I don't wanna miss 'em!"
"You go on ahead," Yuri said. "We'll catch up."
"I'll save you guys some seats!" He shot off into the park, leaving Joy to smile briefly at them before guiding her husband after their son. Yuri let them get out of sight before he began following at a much slower pace, Flynn at his side.
"Why did you hang back?"
He kept his voice low as he answered, more to force Flynn to lean in a little and really listen than anything else. "Out of the three of us, Karol is probably the closest to you in terms of skill. Judy and I are good, but we have to work for it a lot harder than he does. He's a natural. Don't get me wrong, though; Karol throws his heart into practicing. He eats, breathes, and sleeps music."
When Yuri had first met Karol, confidence had obviously been something the kid needed to work on. Now, he practically radiated pride at being Dragon Swarm's drummer, and Yuri was proud to have him. He caught Flynn's eyes and knew both of them were thinking about the things that had been said that night. Maybe Yuri had understood a little of where Flynn had been coming from, but Karol hadn't had a clue. And sure, he was going to have to put up with shit like that no matter what because some people were just assholes. That didn't mean Yuri had to stand by and let it happen right in front of him, though.
"Just thought you should know." Let him think on all that for a while. Maybe then he would know why Yuri hadn't let him slither out of apologizing again.
They walked through the park in silence as the crowds thinned out around them. Most of the people coming for ZaFest's musical offerings would be heading for the newly constructed amphitheater, a half dome that peeked up above the trees some yards distant, or the stage that had been erected near the picnic tables. Those were the sites for the more mainstream local bands, everything from pop to rock to country to rap. The underground scene had been designated to the old amphitheater near the corner of the park that bordered on the seedier side of town. Despite what most considered a less-than-desirable location, Yuri was actually glad they'd gotten that spot. There was something he liked about the place, something chill about the green of the grass against the weathered, ash gray, lichen-covered stones that ringed the tiers of the slope cradling the wide performance space at the bottom of the bowl of earth. He hoped someone had put up some sort of temporary stage, at least, but either way it would be fine. The whole feel of the place was much more laid back than the stuffy, formal amphitheater or the often-crowded lakeside and picnic areas. It was actually one of his favorite places to hang when he just wanted to relax. Pity he couldn't have brought Repede, but sensitive hearing and loud music didn't mix all that well. They'd have to come out for a walk some time soon.
As more and more people branched out to go check out who was playing at the first two stages, band shirts began outnumbering the bright floral prints of summer. By the time the uppermost level of the amphitheater came into view, nearly three quarters of the people still heading in the same direction were wearing black. Wondering if Flynn had noticed and if he was proud of himself for creating the illusion that he fit in, Yuri smirked. His appearance had never been the problem. It was his attitude that needed fixing.
"Why are there so many police officers around?"
"Hmm?"
Yuri had been aware of the cops peripherally, something to take note of and avoid. He was used to seeing them poking around his hangouts, and had mostly been ignoring them. When Flynn pointed them out, however, he realized that there were far more blue uniforms wandering the edges of the small, gathering crowd than there should have been. They hadn't seen so many cops the whole way through downtown traffic.
"Jeez. Someone call out the whole precinct?" He watched a couple of them, recognizing the way they milled about and kept their eyes on the growing crowd. He didn't like what he was seeing.
"I don't think they were called out. If something had happened, we'd see a lot more movement."
"I know they weren't called out. They're here to make sure we don't start shit."
Scowling, he stopped in his tracks. It figured. The first year that metal was actually represented at ZaFest, and the city's finest had been ordered to stand guard against the inevitable tide of mayhem that would surely result. He rolled his eyes. Bunch of prejudiced old bastards.
"This is ridiculous, though. We didn't see nearly as many of them back on the streets."
"Don't tell me you're surprised. It isn't like they're all that much different from you."
Flynn had him by the shoulder and spun him around so quick that Yuri stumbled and nearly fell. Ready for a fight, he met Flynn glare for glare even as a couple of the nearest cops focused in on them, looking for any excuse to bust some metalheads. Let them try and come after him. The day Yuri Lowell couldn't outrun a couple doughnut-sucking meter jockeys—
"You told me we could start over. I'm out here because I'm trying, but if you aren't going to let go of your old opinion of me, then I don't see any point in my staying here."
Well, fuck. Yuri let his anger slip away, hands relaxing out of the fists he'd automatically raised between himself and Flynn. The guy had a point. If he was really trying to be less of an asshole, it wasn't fair to keep thinking of him the way Yuri had been. He turned aside as one of the cops reached them and Flynn put on a smile and reassured the nice officer that no, there wasn't a problem here.
"I'm sorry, sir. My roommate and I were just having a little disagreement."
"Keep the disagreements to a minimum. There's a zero-tolerance policy in place this weekend. If I have to warn you again, you'll be asked to leave the festival."
"Yes, sir. We're sorry. Right, Yuri?"
"Yeah, sure." He was sorry the city couldn't hire cops that did their jobs rather than hanging around to make sure the metal scene didn't get too comfortable.
Finally, the cop decided he'd been enough of a dickhead, and went back to killing time with his buddy.
"Asshole," Yuri muttered.
"They're only doing their job."
"That's bullshit and you know it. They could be out arresting drunk drivers or responding to emergencies. Instead, we've got half of Zaphias' goon squad standing around twiddling their thumbs and looking for an excuse to shut us down. The Don's gonna have a field day with this."
"The Don?"
"Yeah. He's the guy who got us a stage this year. He's probably been into metal since before we were born."
As he spoke, music had begun floating up from the bottom of the amphitheater, the first strains of Bach's Suite No. 1, deceptively soft, particularly if you knew what was coming.
"Is that a cello?"
Flynn was craning his neck, trying in vain to get a glimpse of the source of the sound. A grin broke across Yuri's face at the surprise in his voice, and he wondered what Flynn would make of Gauche and her electric cello painted with koi fish in the style of classic tattoos.
"That is Depth Charge. C'mon. Karol's gonna think we got arrested, or something." Turning toward the amphitheater, he paused a moment to root through a pocket. "Oh. Here, take these. You might need them."
After passing Flynn a pair of earplugs, Yuri set off down into the grassy tiers without looking back. Later, he would find out what was going on with the cops. First, he was going to enjoy the festival.
The soft pattern of notes faded out as they walked, but it was only a deceptive pause, a moment of stillness before the storm began in earnest. It came with a buzzing hiss, a product of Yeager's keyboard and speakers set up to intentionally provide feedback. There was a crash from the cymbals as Droite joined in, and then Gauche took up the melody once more, making something new from it.
One row up from the very bottom, away from most of the sparse crowd and the few people milling around in the mosh pit area in front of the stage, Karol was sitting with his parents and looking around restlessly. As soon as he spotted Yuri, he shot up out of his seat and waved, though it wasn't really necessary. Karol tended towards more colorful clothes and, together with his parents, they resembled a family of parrots perched among crows. Yuri joined them just as the song was really coming together. Flynn took his seat hurriedly, attention fixed on the low stage. It must have been a real surprise for him to hear an instrument he had some familiarity with being included in a metal band. That was a stroke of pure luck. Yuri couldn't have asked for a better group to ease him in.
Onstage, Depth Charge was still playing something Flynn ought to recognize, but they had made it over in their image. If they had begun like a light summer shower, they had become a full on hailstorm, with Yeager's fingers playing notes like rain on a tin roof, and Droite releasing bursts of drumbeats while she measured the tempo for her twin.
Gauche's bow danced over the strings of her cello, and the sound was the gale driving the rain, the shape of the storm and the beauty overlaying its power. The sonorous tone was broken only occasionally by a sharp pull high across the strings, eliciting a cry like a voice barely heard above the tempest.
Yuri found himself watching Flynn as much as Depth Charge. That initial surprise had faded, giving way to a sharp focus. He saw Flynn's fingers moving inches over his thigh, conducting and predicting the melody that had been thrown to the winds. As cello, drums, and keyboard wove themselves together into a seamless whole, Flynn closed his eyes, tilting his head and concentrating on the music. Despite the volume, he hadn't put the earplugs in and was listening—really listening—and Yuri sat back with a grin. He waited for the approving cheer at the end of the song to lean in and speak.
"Cello metal."
"Sorry?"
"That's their genre. They aren't the only metal band that incorporates classical instruments and melodies."
"They're good."
"One of the best in Zaphias." He gestured to the earplugs Flynn still held. "It's okay to put those in. I don't bother anymore, but a lot of people worried about damaging their hearing use them."
Smiling apologetically, Flynn put them in as Depth Charge launched into their second song, an original piece, this time. It caught Flynn's attention just as well, although it took a little longer for him to get into it. While their opening number had been based around something familiar, the only part of the rest of their set that Yuri knew Flynn could relate to was the cello, itself. Still, he seemed to be enjoying it well enough. That was a pretty good sign. Maybe Yuri should have dragged him out to listen to Depth Charge sooner. While there were certainly bands around that sounded more fragmented with each instrument seeming to exist to play its own separate role, the songs Yeager and his girls put together were one of the more elegant shows of force in Zaphias's metal scene. While Gauche or Droite's playing was occasionally highlighted, more often than not, all of them blended their notes together, offering a rich sound, textured by Yeager's keyboard, accentuated by Droite's drums, and gifted with depth from Gauche's cello.
When their set concluded, Yuri was a little disappointed to have reached the end in what felt like a seriously short amount of time. He didn't usually like instrumentals, but Depth Charge knew how to make up for the lack of vocals. Glancing at Flynn, he wondered if he felt the same way, or if he was simply trying to be polite while wondering how long they would be staying. Flynn caught him looking and smiled. Seemed like things were going well, then.
"Wonder who's on next."
Yuri's curiosity was answered as a familiar shock of pink hair appeared at the side of the stage. He bit back a swear as Zagi hopped up onto the platform. His band, Parrotoxin, wasn't bad, but Zagi himself was a royal pain in the ass. Yuri really didn't want to stick around where he was sure to be noticed. He stood up and clapped Karol on the shoulder.
"I'll catch you later, okay Boss?"
"All right. See ya, Yuri!"
He started back up the side of the amphitheater, not surprised when Flynn followed.
"What's going on? Don't tell me we're done already."
"Nah. I just didn't wanna stick around so close for this next group. We'll listen from up top."
He noticed Flynn falling behind and caught him looking back to where Parrotoxin was setting up. Trust him to actually get curious when Yuri mostly just wanted to get far away. Well, it wasn't like they had to stick together. This wasn't a kindergarten field trip. Yuri continued on up, content to leave him behind. If he liked what he heard while he wasn't being babysat, that was all the more reason to count the day as a success.
Back on level ground, he looked around and spotted Don "The Don" Whitehorse, one of the most recognizable people in Zaphias's metal scene. The Don was across the way, talking animatedly—and not very happily—to a woman who wore 'unimpressed' like a tailored business suit. Yuri recognized her only because she dined occasionally at the Atria. Why The Don would be talking to a well-off businesswoman like Mary Kaufman was enough of a mystery to pique Yuri's interest. He started around the amphitheater to go say hello…and to see what was going on.
A discordant shout from an electric guitar signaled that Parrotoxin was ready to perform. He heard Zagi spouting off about something, but tuned him out with practiced ease as Flynn caught up.
"What's going on?"
"Gonna go see The Don."
"No, I mean, why didn't you stay to watch?" He glanced back down with a wince as Zagi pulled a scream from his guitar, and Yuri could see him trying to hide hope when he asked: "Are they not very good?"
"Technically speaking, they're up there with the best of us."
"And artistically?"
"Matter of opinion."
"What's your opinion?"
"That you should form your own."
"Yuri…."
He really did not want to get into his reasons for not sticking around. It would have been ancient history a couple months ago if Zagi wasn't so hardcore about holding grudges. It didn't seem like Flynn was going to let up, though, so Yuri stopped and turned to face him.
"Look, my beef is with Zagi, not his band. You wanna know if they're worth listening to, go watch their set and decide for yourself."
There was a pause just long enough for Yuri to think that maybe that would be the end of it, then:
"What happened between you and Zagi?"
For fuck's sake.
"We're venturing into personal territory again," he warned
"Is that a problem?" Flynn asked. Yuri glanced at him sharply, wondering where this sudden interest was coming from, but Flynn was looking at the sky and missed the look. "We live together. We ought to know more about each other."
"Hey, I'm good as long as I don't have to worry about getting stabbed in my sleep."
Immediately, he regretted his poor choice of words. It had come a little too close to the truth. Zagi'd had an obsession with knives that bordered on disturbing.
Luckily, Flynn didn't seem to have noticed. It had probably only registered as another bit of flippancy. Roommate wanted. Serial killers and puppy kickers need not apply.
Either way, the remark convinced him to drop the subject. They continued on in golden silence for a few feet until Yuri noticed that Harry was with his grandfather and Kaufman. Flynn spotted him at the same time and perked up a little.
"Oh. I recognize that band."
He said it like he'd done something good as he pointed to the logo on Harry's t-shirt, and Yuri could have laughed. "Yeah, everybody's heard of them. They're a nu metal group. Harry's a fan."
"You didn't mention that genre last night."
"Eh." He shrugged. "A couple of them are okay. For the most part, it's sort of watered-down, radio friendly fare. Think of nu metal like the fruity mixed drink of metal."
Flynn covered a smile at that with his hand as they drew close enough to hear what was being said.
"—telling ya, it's a load of horseshit!"
That very nearly made Yuri reconsider intruding. The Don wasn't the type to pussyfoot around when he was angry, but he also wasn't known for disrespecting people unless they didn't deserve his respect. Shouting swears in the middle of an argument with a lady was not something he'd have done if he wasn't pissed. Still, Yuri had known since Flynn had pointed them out that The Don wasn't going to be happy about the number of cops present. That had to be what had him up in arms, and Yuri was interested to see if this woman had any insight as to what was going on, whether the boys in blue had been sent or if they'd simply swarmed.
"I really don't know what you expect me to do about it." She shrugged and settled a hand on one hip. "I'm only here in my capacity as liaison from the Chamber of Commerce. I've got no say over how the commissioner deploys his troops."
"So the goon squad really is here on orders."
"Yuri." The Don shot him a hard look. "Don't go startin' anything."
"Who me?"
"And as for you—" He rounded once more on Kaufman. "I know as well as you that your outfit has fingers in pies all over the city. Ya helped us out this far, now how about usin' some of that influence of yours ta get rid of some of our civic chaperones."
Kaufman smiled. "Quid pro quo keeps the world going around. What's in it for me?"
"Think of it as part of our original agreement."
"Oh, no. I helped you guys get representation at ZaFest, but I'm not seeing much of a return on my investment."
"Investment?"
"My time, Don. Believe it or not, inviting the underground scene out into the open was not a popular initiative. And, if you hadn't noticed, there isn't much of a turnout so far. I'm not sure that providing this venue will have benefited anyone outside your little subculture."
"Hey!" Yuri felt Flynn grab his shoulder to hold him back, but he shrugged him off and stepped forward. "It's too early for you to go deciding that."
"Why? Because most of the prospective attendees for this show are still in bed?"
He smirked at her. "Because everyone knows they always save the best for last. This place'll be packed later on."
"Oho. That's some confidence. Are you in one of the bands, or just an optimist?" She made it obvious that she wasn't looking for an answer when she switched her attention back to The Don. "I held up my end. The police are your problem, not mine. If there's any trouble with the stage or equipment, you have my number. Always good to see you, Don."
With a smile and a wave, she washed her hands of the matter and walked off. The Don watched her go, mouth twisted in an expression of deep dissatisfaction. He made no move to stop her, though, and Yuri could see he was ready to deal with the unnecessary amount of cops on his own. Remembering Hachette's comment from a few nights ago, Yuri almost could have laughed. 'Chill old bird.' What the hell? Don Whitehorse was not someone to fuck with.
"What're ya grinning for, kid?"
If anyone else had called him 'kid,' Yuri would have been up in arms immediately. Somehow, though, he didn't much mind when it was coming from The Don.
"Just thinking about how much Zaphias's finest out there are gonna regret trying to rain on our parade."
From behind The Don, Yuri could hear Harry snort. He leaned around to stare at the perpetually sullen teenager. He'd never gotten on too well with Harry. The kid took too much for granted—chiefly, his grandfather. Yuri didn't have a family of his own, but he figured that made him uniquely qualified to see the value in having a good one.
The Don jabbed a finger in Yuri's face, effectively redirecting his attention.
"You leave the police to me, got it? From what I've heard, you got other things to worry about. That bassist of yours gonna be back in time for your set Sunday?"
"I guess we'll find out tomorrow."
"Pretty laid back after that bragging you did to Kaufman."
"I don't remember bragging. Flynn, you hear me bragging about Dragon Swarm?" He tossed a quick smirk over his shoulder and caught Flynn rolling his eyes. "Besides, we're hardly the only awesome band playing tomorrow. Depth Charge is even doing an encore performance."
"I know who's on when. Who the hell d' ya think wrote the schedule?"
They talked for a little longer about some of the other bands that would be playing and about how big a pain in the ass it had been to get a stage when most of the people in charge of the festival seemed to think that metal fans were a bunch of anarchists liable to burn the park down around their ears.
"As if we aren't all part of the same damn city. A few years back, I was a member of the Chamber of Commerce. I leave to give myself some free time when I'm not running the store, and they forget all about me. How do ya like that?"
"Don't know what to tell you on that score, Don." Plenty of people Yuri had dealt with had been all too happy to see the back of him, but they'd never been people he respected in the first place. It wasn't quite the same as being dismissed by one's peers.
"Wasn't lookin' for sympathy, anyhow. You kids get back to the festival. I'm gonna go make some calls and see if I can't get some of these guys sent on their way."
"Give 'em hell!" Yuri pumped his fist into the air, flashing The Don the horns as he walked off, Harry in tow. He turned back the way he'd come, his own blond shadow trailing along.
"So, that was Don Whitehorse?"
"Yup."
"And he's…?"
"He's…The Don. He started a power metal band practically before anyone in this city had any idea what metal was about. He owns the best music store in town—CDs, instruments, gear, whatever you need—and he started up a quarterly to promote local bands and do features on the music and reviews for all sorts of stuff. One of his old band mates is the owner of Keiv Rock. Any time there's a metal event in the city, if he didn't help organize it, he'll at least be there."
"He's the head of your community?"
Yuri wrinkled his nose. That wasn't right at all. Everybody knew The Don, and even if they didn't like him personally or if they didn't like his music, at least they knew he'd been on the scene since before some of the ZaFest attendees had been born. He knew what was up, and his opinions held weight because of that, but he wasn't a leader, or anything like that. He was just well known.
Flynn realized his mistake and cut off Yuri's correction. "All right, I get it. Wrong choice of words. A pillar of the community?"
"Heh. Close enough."
As they passed the front of the stage, Yuri glanced down to see Zagi still wailing away on his guitar. He could have sworn they made eye contact for a moment, and repressed the urge to speed up. What were the odds that, in the middle of a song, he'd look up and just happen to catch Yuri looking back? It was almost like he had radar. He certainly had a natural talent for being creepy. Yuri had learned pretty early on, though, that one of the tricks to dealing with Zagi was to never let him see that he'd rattled you. Ever.
He recognized the song Parrotoxin was playing. He ought to—he'd written the damn thing, after all—but Zagi had cut it to pieces and made it his own. Yuri could hear the old song in snippets, bits and pieces broken up and scattered through the rearrangement, little reminders of a string of bad decisions.
Ancient history, he reminded himself. For better or worse, Flynn spoke up and drove it out of his mind.
"What's your major?"
"Huh?"
"Your major. At college." He was trying too hard not to look in Yuri's direction again and—was that a blush across his cheeks? What the hell was he blushing for? "I never asked," he muttered.
Oh. Embarrassment. Right. That was easy enough to deal with.
"Why the sudden interest? I'd've thought seeing what metal is really about would've made you less likely to want a background check on me."
"I'm just…trying to get to know you. We started off on the wrong foot."
"No shit."
They walked along in silence until Yuri turned suddenly away from the rim of the amphitheater and headed off toward a little cluster of trees. He leaned up against one, watching people wander past, and watching Flynn. He'd always been an interesting housemate, but now he was catching Yuri's interest in a different way. Seemed like Flynn wanted to be friends. He couldn't really see the two of them being friends, but then, sometimes people surprised him. Niren had.
"Undecided."
"Sorry?"
"My major. I'm undecided. I'm working through some core classes until I figure out what I want to do."
"What about Dragon Swarm?"
Yuri dismissed the thought with a wave. "I love being in a band, sure, but I don't want to make it my job. It's supposed to be fun, right?" He looked up, squinting against the sun spears that angled through the leafy branches overhead. "A lot of work, but fun."
"What, um…what else did you have in mind?"
"Cooking, maybe. It might be cool to have my own kitchen. I think I could handle that pretty well." He grinned at Flynn. "What about you? Planning on making a living playing violin? Traveling the world with a famous orchestra?"
"I don't really—"
He lost interest in Flynn's answer as he spotted Zagi storming toward him across the grass. Heaving a sigh, he rolled his eyes. "Here we go."
"Sorry?" Flynn didn't even notice Zagi's approach until he was shoved aside.
"Yuri Lowell."
Trying to look as bored as possible, Yuri didn't move from where he leaned against the tree. He was watching closely, however, ready for Zagi to start something. Better than fifty-fifty odds when he had that look in his eyes. They guy might wear more straps than a straight jacket and jingle like a reindeer at Christmas under all his chains, but he was quick, and had a hair trigger temper way worse than Yuri's.
"Set over already? Normally, it takes you a little longer to lose the crowd. You must be getting rusty."
"You'd know all about that, you and those losers you call a band. You posers are stuck in a rut. Metal moved on. Pick up the pace!"
"Is that all you came to say? Every member of Dragon Swarm is more metal than you with those ego accessories you've got playing backup."
A strangled growl escaped Zagi's throat, and Yuri adjusted his footing.
"I won't let you dismiss me!" His fists were balled at his sides, but he was holding himself back. Maybe even Zagi wasn't crazy enough to go starting shit with so many cops around.
"You've never done a damn thing to show me you're worth paying any attention to. Come on, Flynn. It's warm enough without this windbag blowing hot air."
"Heh. So this is the asswipe you replaced me with? Heard he dissed your pathetic band."
When Flynn opened his mouth to respond, Yuri cut him off. "Yep. Bonehead doesn't know shit about metal. Really sucks to be stuck living with him. Poor me." He raised his hand in a careless wave and moved to leave. "I'd say it was good talking to you, but that'd be a damn lie."
"You can't ignore me!"
"Whatever. Try not to shank anybody before your next gig." He grabbed Flynn's sleeve, muttering: "Let's go."
"You used to be better than this, Yuri Lowell! Why are you wasting your time on that pansy ass fiddle player? I'll make you acknowledge my skills! I'll make you recognize me!"
His mistake was taking his eyes off of Zagi. He should have known better, even with the cops around. Zagi always had been more than a little loopy. When he got angry enough, his world shrank down to whoever had pissed him off. It hadn't been three months since Yuri had kicked him out. He shouldn't have forgotten.
"I won't let you turn your back on me!"
Zagi punctuated his enraged shout with a fist to the back of Yuri's head, and that was it. Cops or no cops, Yuri wasn't about to let him get away with that. He spun on his heel and barely managed to clip him with a left hook. Someone grabbed his arm, and he shoved whoever it was away, all his focus on getting in enough decent hits to knock the fight out of Zagi. It took him three tries and an elbow in his back to knock Zagi to the ground. Crazy, he might be, but he was fast, too, and if he stayed on his feet, the fight would drag out. Yuri still took several vicious punches to his ribs as they grappled, but he was giving better than he got right up until he heard the familiar clicking of Zagi's butterfly knife.
"You can't ignore me, Yuri! You can't dismiss me!"
"Fucking psycho!"
He felt the knife connect with the side of his hand as he scrambled to get out of reach. A black dress shoe flashed across his field of vision, catching Zagi's wrist and knocking the knife away, and suddenly, Flynn was yanking on his arm, hauling him up and away as cops swarmed through the gathered crowd, shouting and bearing down on him.
Zagi was on his feet in no time. Ducking out of reach as the cops grabbed for him, he made a dash for the crowd. Though he was no longer armed, the onlookers let the slippery bastard get through, and he disappeared into the park. Yuri curled his lip, not surprised that he'd managed to get away. He didn't have long to think about it, as he was grabbed roughly, his arm forced up behind his back by one of the glorified crossing guards the city had sent to intimidate any mischief out of the assembled metalheads.
He spit into the grass, not surprised to taste blood. His cheek and ribs hurt and his hand was starting to throb. So much for a peaceful day at the park.
"Wait! Wait a minute!" Flynn wasn't quite grabbing the cop to pull him off of Yuri, but it was a near thing. His hands hovered mere inches away. "He was only defending himself. The other man—Zagi—he's the one who started the fight. He even pulled a knife. Yuri's unarmed."
"I don't give a damn who started it—" Surprisingly, the cop was cut off by one of his own.
"Pipe down, Lewis."
Yuri looked up at the officer who'd interrupted, knowing his expression was neither thankful, nor particularly friendly. The man glanced at him, lip curling a little beneath his bushy salt-and-pepper moustache. Obviously, McWhiskers didn't think much about Yuri, so why bother speaking up?
The answer came when he looked over at Flynn. "I know you. You're Finath's boy."
"Mr. McGregor." Flynn's tone was relieved as he spoke the name, but Yuri nearly choked on a laugh. Naming the guy McWhiskers had been more on-target than he'd thought. "Yes. It's good to see you again."
"What happened?"
Quickly and succinctly, Flynn went over the main details. McWhiskers watched him stone-faced, side-eyeing Yuri only for a moment upon hearing 'unprovoked' in regards to the fight. Yuri twisted out of the hold Lewis had him in, though the cop laid a heavy hand on his shoulder as if afraid he might try the same cut-and-run bit Zagi had just pulled. He shoved his hands into his pockets, wincing as the cut really started to hurt, and refrained from trying to shrug off the long arm of the law. Luckily, his patience wasn't tested for long.
"Though I can't say I'm all too happy about the company you're keeping nowadays, I'll take your word in this instance as your father's son. Still, we've got a zero tolerance policy against any sort of violence this weekend. I'm going to have to ask both of you to leave."
"Lame."
McWhiskers strode over and leaned in until his moustache was practically tickling Yuri's nose. "Son, I am asking you real nice to see yourselves out. I am within my rights to have you escorted out by any of these fine officers present here today, some of which I believe you are already familiar with."
The hand on Yuri's shoulder squeezed painfully, then shoved him forward once the senior officer had backed off. Friggin' cops. He dusted himself off and fell into step with Flynn, heading back the way they'd come. Glancing back, he noticed that McWhiskers was watching them go, and he stopped and turned around.
"Hey, officer! You got a little glitter, right here!" He held up a hand just under his nose, wiggling his fingers in a childish pantomime of a moustache.
"Yuri, shut the hell up!"
Flynn elbowed him hard in the side and stalked off, rubbing a hand over his face. Grinning past the aches and pains of rising bruises, Yuri hurried to keep pace.
"So," he said, once he was sure they were out of earshot. "You lied to the cops for me."
"No, I didn't. I told Mr. McGregor exactly what happened. You could have been a little less antagonis…." He trailed off as he noticed the little spring-assisted knife Yuri had pulled out. "Did you have that on you the whole time?"
"Yup."
"Yuri…."
"Hey, it coulda been worse." He pocketed the knife and fixed Flynn with a grin. "At least none of them noticed the combat knife in my boot."
"Yuri! You don't really—!"
"No, I don't really. Chill out. I was just yanking your chain."
Laughing a little, he laced his fingers behind his head. The sun was still high in the sky. Half the day was left, but they wouldn't be spending it hanging with the metal crowd. He studied Flynn out of the corner of his eye, wondering if the offer of friendship was still on the table after the scene he'd caused. Flynn caught him looking. He opened his mouth to say something, then stopped in his tracks.
"You're bleeding."
"Huh? Oh. Right."
He took a look at the side of his left hand below his pinky where Zagi's knife had caught him. Wincing, he flexed his fingers and watched as the sluggish trickle of blood fattened up and dripped over his palm and wrist. When he checked, he saw that his other hand was a mess of smeared blood as well.
"Hell," he grumbled. It was probably in his hair, too. He started to wipe his hands on his shirt, and Flynn grabbed his wrist.
"There's a water fountain over here. You can wash up."
He actually led Yuri off to the side of the path and didn't let go of his wrist until they were standing in front of the fountain. It was weird, having contact between them that wasn't entirely a result of an argument getting out of hand, and Yuri wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Smiling crookedly, he waited to see how long it would take Flynn to realize exactly who it was that he was treating like a kid.
That realization came as Flynn was pulling Yuri's hand under the stream of water, and he let go, yanking his own hands back.
"Ah, sorry. I, um…I've got some hand sanitizer."
He pulled a little bottle of the disinfectant gel out of his messenger bag and waited for Yuri to finish washing away the blood. The stuff stung when he applied it, and he turned his smirk back onto Flynn.
"Thanks. Got any bandages in there, too?"
"I have a couple Band-Aids in my wallet, but I don't think they're big enough."
Yuri laughed. He was such a boy scout sometimes, even that smile of his. It was kind of a nice smile, actually, a little bashful, but not out of place, even though he'd seen Flynn lose his temper plenty of times and knew that he was the kind of guy who could kick some ass when he wanted to. It was an interesting dichotomy.
"Hey. You want to see if Estelle's free?"
"Estelle?"
"Yeah. You're thinking we could be friends, right? Let's hang with her for a bit. She can play interpreter."
"I don't think we need an interpreter…."
"We have been at each other's throats since you moved in. I'm calling Estelle." He pulled out his phone and dialed. As it rang in his ear, he added: "And when I said 'we,' I meant 'you.'"
"Hey!"
'Hello?'
"Hey, Estelle." He blocked the slap Flynn aimed at the back of his head with a smile. "How's it going?"
'Very well. How are you?'
"Eh, same old, same old. Listen, Me and Flynn just got kicked out of ZaFest—"
'Yuri! What on earth did you do?'
"If you want to come meet up with us, I'll tell you all about it."
'…Am I going to need to bring bail money? I'm sorry to ask, but after last time—'
"No, it's fine. Nothing serious."
"Just got his hand sliced open in a knife fight," Flynn commented.
"Shut up."
'Wha—'
"Not you. Talking to Flynn. So…Jasmine sound good?"
'All right. How soon should I meet you?'
"We're in the park. Head on over whenever you're ready."
She giggled. 'I'll beat you there, actually. See you in a few.'
"See you."
He hung up and caught Flynn rolling his eyes, apparently at his suggestion of meeting place. "The Jasmine Tea House? Was that some sort of bribe to get her to agree to come?"
"Hell no. I want a parfait."
Flynn's face when the waitress brought out Yuri's parfait was priceless. It was the first time Yuri had ever seen someone actually do a double take. Even Estelle laughed.
He made a show of savoring the first bite, humming appreciatively around it and sucking every last bit of cream off the spoon. Flynn went red as a beet and couldn't seem to figure out where he should be looking. It was probably taking everything he had to keep from turning the teasing into an all out argument. With him on his best behavior in public and in front of Estelle, Yuri figured he could push his luck, just a little.
"What's the matter, Flynn? Guys in metal bands with tongue piercings can't like sweets?"
He didn't seem to have an answer for that.
"Yuri, stop teasing. You have to admit, to most people, you don't look like the type of person to enjoy places like this."
Smiling, she tapped one finger lightly against the sterling sword pendant that hung around his neck. It had been a birthday gift from her a few years back, and was the one piece he wore almost daily. She was right, though. No matter what he wore, he didn't match the clientele for the Tea House, which consisted mainly of teenage girls. The place was all fruity drinks, frothy coffees, and incredible desserts. Not the sort of place men tended to flock to, but then, it wasn't like he went there trolling for dates. It was actually a decently quiet hangout most days, the atmosphere of the restaurant serving to keep the volume of the surrounding chatter to a decent level.
Sitting back in her seat once more, she took a sip of her tea and set the cup carefully back into its saucer.
"As sorry as I am to hear that you got kicked out of the festival, I would like to know what exactly happened to cause it."
"It was all Zagi's fault."
"Oh, Yuri. I thought you'd finally parted ways with him."
"I did. He keeps coming back." Before he could continue, Flynn butted in.
"How do you know Zagi, exactly?"
"Oh, right. I never did mention, did I? He was my last housemate."
"You lived with him?"
Yuri smirked. If he didn't know better, he might have sworn there had been some concern there.
"Not for long. You saw what he's like, and he was actually showing a bit of restraint today. You know that hole in the living room wall? It's Zagi's fault."
"What, he punched through it, or something?"
"No. He dodged." His smirk thinned out into something much less pleasant as he remembered. That had been their last fight before Zagi took his shit and left. Yuri had changed the locks that same day.
Estelle cleared her throat, bringing Yuri back to the present. Right. All that was supposed to be ancient history. He took another bite of his parfait as he let the matter rest. When he was about to launch back into the story of what all had gone down at the park, however, he was interrupted by a string of cartoonish clanging and banging noises from his phone.
"Hey, Flynn, you already told the story once today. Go ahead and let Estelle know why the cops kicked us out of the park."
"Say that a little louder," Flynn muttered, looking around to see if anyone had been paying attention. He was pretty damn easy to fluster, but now Yuri had other things on his mind aside from baiting his housemate.
|dude just got ur text. didn't c u the fest. sup?|
|cops kikd us ot thous|
|sweet lol. still wanna hook up?|
|p/u?|
|sure. c u in a few.|
"Yuri."
He looked up to see Estelle watching him with mild disapproval. "Yeah?"
"I can barely hear Flynn over all that noise. Could you either let Crash know you're with friends and can't chat, or turn your phone to silent, please?"
"Sorry. He's on his way over." He tucked his phone away, grinning apologetically, and dug into his neglected parfait.
"Thank you. I'm sorry, Flynn. Please go on."
"Who's Crash?"
The disapproving look on Flynn's face nearly got Yuri laughing again. "Friend of mine. You wanna hear how he got the nickname?"
Flynn looked at Estelle, and Yuri could practically read the unspoken 'Do I?' that passed between them. Estelle hid a smile behind her tea, and nodded.
"Okay, so we were at this party, right? And most of us were absolutely wasted, but Crash—Kevin's his real name—was gone. So, a bunch of us were sort of chilling on the couch, and Crash comes stumbling in, and sees the terrarium the guy that owned the house had. He's so drunk, that he thinks it's a TV, and he's going on about how real it looks, like he could actually touch the damn lizards, and the next thing we know, he's trying to step over the coffee table to get a closer look. Only, he steps about a foot too soon, and ends up tripping himself up and crashing right through the thing. When he went down, he knocked the terrarium over onto the couch. All of a sudden, there's these little lizards all over the place, and we're all too damn drunk to catch the zippy bastards, and Crash is just sitting there in the splinters of the coffee table going: 'This 3-D is so awesome!' Then, the next minute, he's out like a light. Just crashed right there and started snoring."
Estelle's shoulders were shaking with quiet laughter. "Those poor lizards must have been so scared. Oh, hang on! I still have that picture Judy sent me!"
She rifled through her purse for a moment before bringing out her cell phone. It didn't take long for her to pull up what she had been looking for and, with a fresh wave of giggles, she held the phone out for Yuri and Flynn to see.
A slightly blurry photo of Yuri was displayed on the screen. His mouth was hanging open, his eyes crossed and unfocused as he tried to look up at a small, green lizard that was clinging to his bangs. Another one was sitting on the rim of the beer he was about to take a sip from. The memory, fuzzy though it was, set Yuri laughing. He'd been badly startled when he'd gone to take a drink, enough that he had actually jumped up off the couch. Both of the lizards had been jolted onto his shirt. One crawled around onto his back, the other actually climbed inside in between the buttons. He'd gone circling through the living room trying blindly to catch his friend's pets while tiny lizard feet tickled over his ribs. He shook his head as Estelle put her phone away. Never a dull moment when Crash was around.
His laughter quieted and Estelle urged Flynn to pick up where he had left off before they'd gotten sidetracked. As he ate, Yuri caught himself wondering if Flynn would be any fun at parties if he could loosen up. The image of the buttoned-up violinist chilling on a couch with a lizard buddy hanging out on his shoulder flashed through Yuri's mind, and he snickered, shaking his head at the inquiring looks he received. He half-listened to Flynn as he tried to wash away the mental image with the rest of his dessert.
Even without his full attention, it was obvious that the story was a little different this time. Flynn was letting his exasperation show, for one. He dragged Yuri fully back into the present when he grabbed his left wrist, pulling his arm up to show Estelle the cut on the side of his hand. Quick as he could, he yanked free, but Flynn had a strong grip, and the damage had been done already. Estelle was up out of her seat and at his side in the time it took him to glare at the housemate that had sold him out. Though her touch was considerably more gentle, Yuri didn't pull away from Estelle's hands.
"Yuri, you need to go to the police about this! He's really dangerous. What if he does something worse, next time?"
"It's no big deal. Zagi just gets carried away if you don't buy into his delusions. I can take him if he tries something again."
"But, Yuri…!"
He rolled his eyes and caught a glimpse of his salvation loitering outside the Tea House. Crash refused to set foot in the place, but he didn't seem to mind hanging around outside like some sort of goatee'd, leather clad, stud-wearing creeper. He was actually pretty laid back, and Yuri hadn't yet figured out if he enjoyed freaking people out, or if he simply didn't realize that his appearance could sometimes be a little unnerving.
"Sorry, Estelle, but I gotta run."
He jerked his head toward the large glass windows at the front of the Tea House, and stood up when she shifted her focus away from him to look. Laying a few bills down to cover his parfait, he hurried toward escape, waving over his shoulder as he went.
"We're going to talk about this later, Yuri!"
"Sure thing! Flynn, do me a favor and feed Repede for me tonight, would you? And let him out for a while afterward."
He could hear the two of them start to talk about him, but he paid it no mind. Really, if he hadn't been so busy with his music, he'd have texted Crash days ago, back when he'd had that awkward realization the first night he and Flynn had sat down to a meal together. Although the past few days had been almost completely about work and music, tonight was not going to require nearly so much thought.
Outside, Crash greeted him with a grin that had as much mischief in it as good humor and they set off automatically toward his place. As they walked away from the Tea House, he felt an arm slip around his waist and a second later, fingers pinched the skin over his hip. A little thrill of anticipation shot through him, and he shook his head. It really had been too long.