Dinner

Admissions. We scoured through the small crowd and grabbed tickets. Gave tickets for 360 Dining, scoured through the crowd again, people give looks, especially a guy that had a Fairy Tail t-shirt on, pretty sure his nose started to slowly bleed, because anime shit, and went to the empty elevator. Fucking empty. How lovely.

We stepped in.

"Sayori, you're on an elevator."

"One of those things I once asked?"

"Yes, darling," I unconsciously said.

"Darling?" Monika asked.

"I do that every time to women. Not hooking up with her, obviously."

"But why?" She replied again.

"Why is the floor glass?" Natsuki chimed in.

"Yes, and why is there a glass window showing just concrete?" Yuri questioned in as well.

"Monika-just relax..."

"I'm just asking-what the fuck is happening?"

The ground rumbled and the elevator started to rise up.

The girls gasped in shock and soon squatted down to the floor panicking. The city lights and the urban landscape came into view as the girls panicked and screamed bloody murder.

"Holy fucking shit... How high are we?!" Natsuki panicked.

"Natsuki, about the 11th floor. We're getting higher."

"Fuck this," Yuri cursed. "Fuck this shit."

"We're going to be way higher up. And Yuri, do hold tight."

"When is this shit-storm going to end?!" Monika pleaded.

"And then it stopped," I cued, not actually putting it in narration, because comedy. This isn't actually comedy. This story doesn't even have a tag! It's fucking General! General. Like unbranded shit. General.

"Get the fuck up, you four," I demanded. They complied. Lovely.

The elevator opened, and men gave strange looks at the girls. And more anime guys, great. See one wearing a Naruto shirt, and saw one holding an anime girl phone case just right at us.

The girls looked with nervous eyes, the crowd and the immense height-sickness.

"Oh no," Natsuki breathed in and looked at the landscape, stepping down onto the infamous glass floor. "Fuck no."

I went down with Natsuki, in order to just supervise her, in case she fucking faints because of some nonsensical reason like the shock of being so high. Don't take that on the wrong way. Don't do drugs. Or you can just fuck it and do it, not responsible. Although I do wonder what's like being high.

"Don't look down," I reminded her. Then, like a fucking idiot, she looked down.

"Shit!" She squirmed, almost falling down on her two-inch stilettos, potentially cracking the glass. I'm kidding, the glass is about thick as concrete. It's thick as. By the way, just adding 'as' to an adjective makes it superlative. So thick as can be translated to thick as fuck. Kiwi slang. If you also need clarification, Kiwi is a New Zealander. And if you need even more clarification, like bloody three or four chapters ago, I mentioned that we live in a land called New Zealand. Me, and the Dokis. And they also have thick accents, forgot about that. So deck becomes dick. Yes, you're right, dick. Claire whatever-the-fuck-her-name-is is a British-Kiwi woman, or much more appropriately a 'bitch' or 'a piece of shit', don't need any clarification for that slang, so she rarely has a harsh Kiwi accent like every other fucking Kiwi.

Natsuki looked at me as I embraced her. She instantly corrected her faux pas and stood upright.

"Glad I caught you," I let go slowly, in case she falls down and knocked up, knocked up being said with a generous addition of a sassy snap and a little body shake with sassy scolding-mother eyes.

"Thanks," she looked at me as she flawlessly climbed up the tall step to go up the elevation. Now that situation is a bad way to get knocked up, being said with the sass again.

Then, I looked up, desensitized by the glass floor I'm walking on. I see Monika... with another guy. She looks she's pissed off but yet still keeping confidence.

"Uh," the guy unconfidently introduced, "Hello." A pause was cued. I've watched a video on flirting, and he was about to ask a question. A question to flirt with lone Monika. Poor girl. Ah. She'll reply intelligently.

"Nice day we're having," the man replied back.

"Yes," Monika chuckled. "Very nice. A very fitting night for the city. Weekend, weather warm when the sun rose..."

"The night quite fits with your very confident outfit. The outfit speaks of bustling streets, city lights and lovely drinks. Flashy yet elegant."

Monika chuckled. "Thank you for that."

"What are you doing with your friends?"

"Just dining. Enjoying the views. Just that."

"Well, I'm also dining as well, coincidentally. Maybe we can meet up and maybe I can bond with your friends at the end."

Monika sighed. "Ah, sure. But that's too bad."

"Huh? Why 'too bad?'"

It was my time. I stood up from the bench and rose up slowly walking to Monika.

"Cue dearest Jeremy coming in sitting on the bench beside us."

I showed up behind Monika with a smile on my face. I wave at the guy. Fucking busted.

"Oh... hello," the man reassuringly smiled at me.

"Why I said it was too bad because I looked at you and your hand. You're wearing a ring. And I'm taken already. I saw you before you came up to me all serious and stressed, presumably a wife, but that's backed up by your ring. A man like you wouldn't wear a ring just for fun. You have the demeanor of a married man in a high-paying job," Monika deduced.

"Hold on," the guy turned back and walked away, with phone in hand.

That was abrupt.

"I guess he doesn't like my deduction then," Monika laughed.

"Who was that?"

"I don't fucking know," Monika looked at me. "Let's just look at the view."

"We have fifteen minutes left."

"Fifteen minutes just here?" Monika questioned puzzled.

"No. For something else."

"Information acquired," the man relayed the project's progress. Information has been acquired. The shadowed mastermind grinned.

"You have my word. And now, you can call me in a formal basis. You have gained my trust," the mastermind anonymous relayed.

"Thank you, Assisi," the doer said over the phone, "Your satisfaction is a priority."

Then the mission-starter hung up.

This was a good day.

You can beat the competition if the competition is eliminated.

Monika aggressively linked up with the gap between my fist resting on my knee stretched. Just like that thing in the movies where the rich and often white men and women have to dance with each other.

Natsuki, just next to me, held my arm aggressively. Her fingers toyed with my jacket, as it was bloody cold this summer night. And the sky-tower is air-conditioned. So it's worse.

"What is it with you and your hands holding me, you two?"

"We're all holding hands," they all said in unison.

"For what?" I asked.

And then the elevator started to rev upwards. Then, accompanied with the very alien feeling of being elevated upward in a decent pace, the strength of Natsuki's quite bony hands started to go up from zero to a fucking thousand.

"Shit!" I cried out loud.

"What's the problem?" Monika asked.

"Natsuki's fucking crushing my hand."

"We're all crushing each other's hands," the girls said in unison.

"There are no fucking handlebars," Yuri complained.

"Fair enough," I replied back. "Don't fucking swell my hand, Natsuki."

"Just fucking deal with it," Natsuki cursed.

Ping goes the elevator, and the elevator door opened.

We went out, sent the tickets to the reception and the girls' eyes gushed with sparkles over the view of the grand city.

"We're moving," Monika said. "We're moving... around the tower."

"This is a bit weird," Sayori trembled.

"Monika's right, we're moving," I reminded them. "360 degree view."

"A full circle," Yuri inquired.

"Thanks, Captain Obvious," Natsuki scoffed.

Jesus.

Thank God, there were five chairs around a lowly and quite average table. Eh. I'm guessing they're not big eaters. They're girls after all.

MONIKA: That's sexist.
JEREMY: Monika, we're going off the story.
MONIKA: Still sexist.
JEREMY: I'm scripted. Well, a hybrid of scripted with a freedom to change and add my own tangents that can add up the word count, like now.
MONIKA: Then were you scripted to say that?
JEREMY: Nope.
AUTHOR: Sorry, Monika.
MONIKA: Wow, you have the fucking audacity to say that?
AUTHOR: Yes. I'm politically incorrect. Last time I remember, you fucking talked about Sayori in the game making a big mistake in her own fucking suicide. Remember? The whole 'you're not supposed to asphyxiate yourself until you die and lose consciousness, you have to snap your own neck' bullshit?
MONIKA: Fuck you.
AUTHOR: Salvato and I, in this world, created you. So you're giving a fucking finger shoved in your creator's ass.
MONIKA: I don't fucking care.
AUTHOR: If there was a God and you went up to heaven, would you give him the fucking finger?

We sat, Sayori next to me, Yuri at the furthermost chair, and Natsuki and Monika sitting together, and got introduced by a waiter, who gave us black leather menus. Like fancy restaurants do.

Thinking about that, there's an ever fancier restaurant just right in Takapuna, place in this country, who used plastic for their menu. Huh. It was also Texan as well. Steaks and that shit. Burgers also. I would chant U-S-A for a mediocre 'funny' joke after that, but thinking of that, Trump's in America, so, better save that after the second term or hopefully the only term.

"Order something, guys."

After three minutes of decisions, and the choice to have orange juice to have as a main drink, weirdly, I didn't see anything in the game that references orange juice and also characters who even have the slightest hint of liking orange juice, here's the list.

For entrees, and yes, it's a fucking three-course, eighty for person, yes you fucking read it right, if you multiply it you get five-hundred dollars down the drain, if you include tickets, you get hundred and forty five, so in total, this trip was five-hundred and forty-five dollars down the drain, Monika got a Ricotta Rocket Tortellini. I watched a MasterChef episode and it turns out tortellini is pasta, but not really. For a main, she got Duck Breast with Shoestring Fries, which yes that's the fucking name, and for dessert was ice cream. Chocolate. Swiss chocolate to be exact. Fucking specific as shit.

For Sayori, she had a Caesar salad for an entree and for the main she had a Duck Breast too with another Shoestring Fries, to be shared upon with Monika's. For dessert, she had a Chocolate Sphere with Black Doris Plum Cream. Okay, this needs a bit of explaining. This is a sphere with some random shit inside, you won't know cause it's randomized, and then there's a hot cream that will break the sphere apart while still being intact. How they've done this is beyond me, but what the fuck a Black Doris Plum is two hundred light-years away of my discerning of this country. Apparently, it's a plum. But it just came from this country. Nowhere else, apparently, is what I've been told. Don't know what the fuck's with that.

You can skip this part. There'll be a line. Under the line's what's next. I don't wanna waste your fucking time.

Natsuki chose Goujons with a Moroccan Kick, and none of us know what the fuck they are, I guessed seafood. She had no fucking choice but to choose that one. Sounds fucking appealing. She got fries, because, that seemed to be appealing. At least they know what fucking fries are. Well, fries, they call it chips here.

Hold on, that's wrong. They're called fries. The wedges though, they're called chips. The stringy strands are fries. Or I think so. In the menu it says fries, but from what I accidentally eavesdropped from kids, they call it chips. Weird. I don't even know.

For Natsuki's mains, she chose a Lamb Loin. Way to be different. And why lamb? I never asked her. And she got an apple crumble. That's one good thing out of her.

Finally, for Yuri. Her entree was also the Ricotta-whatever the fuck it was called-Tortellini. For a main, she ordered a Mushroom and Spinach Gnocchi. And by the way, how the fuck do you pronounce that?

To order, I went on a video on YouTube that just pronounced the word gnocchi.

And it's pronounced 'nyokee.

'Nyokee.

Oh also, I had a pork belly for entree, an eye fillet for the mains and ice cream for dessert. Ferrero Rocher.

Night was setting.

We were eating. Natsuki's eyes filled with delight as she ate her entree. Monika thanked me and smiled at me while she ate her tortelloni-pasta shit. Sayori looked at the bustling nightlife of the city as she put a piece of lettuce and dressing in her mouth. Yuri was delighted too, as she drank the orange juice. Then, I ate my fucking entree, like I was wanting to, after twenty minutes of arduous waiting.

I ate the pork belly draped in star anise jus, and looked at Monika, still eating.

They were having a fun time.

I'm not an asshole anymore.

I'm finally becoming a great person.

I've done so many things that I can't atone for.

I can't atone for what bullshit I've done.

I should've let her die.

Come On Eileen stopped, suddenly. The killer perhaps shot the speakers. But no. It was worse. Twisted mind this bitch was.

The Beatles' `Help` blared through the speaker.

Help, I need somebody! Help, not just anybody!

Claire looked at me, with a face of horror after another round of the pistol blared again, cracking around the facility.

"Jeremy!" A nearby voice called to me.

"Tyler!" I called out.

And then, the nearby gunshot struck the door.

We ran and dashed, with the door swung open. We duck and dash like a pack of wolves running away from another predator. The killer walked creepily and pointed his gun to the walls.

No, I cried. I ran around the school, gathering many people and compressed into a group, running wildly.

"Jeremy," Yuri called out to me.

"Yes?" I instantly snap back to reality. Unknowingly, I had finished my entree. It was pretty small. Well, it's the size of a pile of a kilogram of rice, so, it's small. Just an entree.

"Move on to the mains?" Monika asked.

"Yeah, sure," I sipped my orange juice.

The waiter ambled and collected the plates, with great pleasure. Of course, nobody likes walking and taking plates. All a facade.

"Very cold in here," I shivered, putting my hands on the hard and cold table.

"Here," Sayori held my hand, her thumb rubbing my hand, as if she was massaging it.

"You're surprisingly very warm," I complimented. I actually don't know if that's a good thing to say. Oh no. Shit. Bad scenarios to say that are crossing my mind. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

Sayori chuckled.

"Closure's a way to keep him warm," Monika advised.

Sayori inched closer to me, as she put her very warm back on me.

"That's weird, Sayori," Natsuki commented. "You're making him uncomfortable."

"I'm just making him warm," Sayori wrapped her lukewarm arm on my shoulder. She is making me warm, whilst uncomfortable.

"You're uncomfortably warm."

"Sorry," she apologized. "Should I take my arm out?"

"No," I forcefully demanded. "Still cold."

A ping came out of my phone. I clasped it out of my pocket.

NEW MESSAGE FROM Claire
7:23PM

Claire: Hi. Do you wanna go some place with my friends? Have a couple drinks?

"Shit," I cursed out loud.

"What is it?" Yuri asked.

"Claire de-fucking-Lune."

"Holy shit," Monika came closer.

I repeated and relayed her message to Monika.

"Fucking bitch," she cursed roughly.

Jeremy: Where's the place?

"Replied," I said.

"Are we coming with the shit-face?"

"Who's Claire?" Sayori asked.

"She sounds like a nice person," Natsuki defended.

"We're not going with the ass-hat. Natsuki's looking like she's a fifteen year old, and you don't have any clarification for your age. And besides, we'll have to pay for our own fucking drinks."

"Cheeky fucker," Natsuki scoffed and turned away from me.

"Whatever," I scoffed.

Claire: Oh, so you're coming.

"Bitch, I asked you a question-no that's too brash."

"Another message?" Yuri asked.

"Yes, another message."

Jeremy: Where's the location? I repeat, where's the location?

"Sent."

"Now, we'll wait."

Claire: Crevice. Right in Takapuna. Not that far where you live.

"Well, fuck, she's the fast typer."

Jeremy: No.

"Very," Monika claimed. "Fast indeed. It took her about 5 seconds to make that message. I think her panties are twisting and her muscles are firing with the excitement of g-"

"Jesus," Sayori scolded Monika.

Claire: Why not?

Jeremy: Sky Tower. With the four aforementioned.

Claire: That's too bad.

Jeremy: I'm the designated driver. I drive my own shit.

Claire: Fair enough.

"My god, are you overlapping each other's message? Inhumanly fast!" Sayori claimed.

"I type every day at work."

"Jesus, you're like having a seizure," Yuri chimed in.

And the mains arrived.

It was a nice meal. Dessert and mains were the same. Light conversation. Now, it was time. We were all groggy and sleepy. I had to take coffee as an extra at the end. It was nice. But this shit's gonna keep me awake.

I told the girls that I needed to go pee. And then, they waited.

I went into the bright lights and the white tiled walls.

Empty. No one was there.

It was a short-lived bliss indeed.

After I shook my... rod, and put it back where it belong, I turned around and-

HOLY FUCKING SHIT! DODGE IT-

I dodged a fist about a centimeter of my face, and the undiscernible figure spun me around with my head bashed into the wall.

A fist swiftly swung, but I dodged it again, spinning the man by pushing his body. His body went towards the wall, as I grabbed his hair and bashed his head onto the wall, three times and I bashed his head one final time on the floor.

One thing fell out of his pocket.

A syringe.

I got out, telling the girls to run.

A sleepless night has just begun.

I perilously revved the car to run.

Something bad had gone along.

No sleep for me.