Disclaimer: I do not own Wizards of Waverly Place. I wish. But, alas, I don't. Additionally, no profit is being made from releasing this fiction story.
Author's Note: Yay! Another chapter! No new dealings in my life at this time so let's just READ ON!
A Familiar Pattern 24
By genielou
"Who let the dogs out? Woof! Woof!"
Justin groaned as he reached out for his cellphone. Once silencing it, he replaced it on his nightstand and buried his face into his pillow. Five minutes later, the horrid song assaulted his ears again. He allowed the song to repeat twice before finally rising from his bed while silently cursing upwards for his early morning requirements. After a few more minutes of staring blankly into space, he finally rose from his bed and grudgingly made his way out of his bedroom.
His eyes immediately widened as he stepped into his living room and took in the state that his adequately-sized studio apartment was in. Bottles and cans of beer littered the shelves and floors, empty shot glasses lay abandoned on the tables, and party decorations were haphazardly strewn all over the walls. A low groan escaped his throat upon glancing at the 'Happy 28th Birthday!' banner hanging from a far wall near the window.
"Right. Of course," he grumbled as activities of the previous night came rushing back to him. His friends from his job as a part-time Physics Professor at a local Community College had decided to throw Justin an impromptu birthday party. Attendants exceeded that of the usual list of people he was acquainted with, and instead extended towards friends of friends of friends. By the time the party was finally broken up by the authorities, his apartment had been completely thrashed. Who knew that adults of his age could party hard like they were still teenagers?
Shaking his head and releasing a deep sigh, Justin proceeded to his kitchen where the mess did not differ. He cleared the kitchen counter of random trash, rinsed and arranged his coffee maker, and left it to brew as he shuffled back to his bedroom. He stripped himself of his clothes on the way, throwing them arbitrarily to the already cluttered floor, and jumped into the shower without closing the bathroom door.
It had become a rather unnerving part of his character, to be this careless within his private demeanor. Through the years since his initiation into a full Wizard and his advancement in his careers as a Community College Physics Professor, WizTech Headmaster, and heralded Chancellor of Magic and Mortal affairs, Justin has grown quite somber and concealed. The strain of balancing two jobs and one Council position had put a tension in his relationship with himself and the people close to him, not to mention a strain in his ability to care for himself. His apartment was always messy; his refrigerator was always empty sans a few bottles of water. And an audience in his apartment was unheard of.
He had become a loner; always concentrating on work and never on any form of fun. Justin had become careless; only eating one meal a day and replacing at least three different food groups with caffeine. Although, it didn't hurt his physique in the least. He still displayed the body of a peaking 20-year-old man (which he considers as an accomplishment), but his doctor has warned him that his continuation towards this path of unhealthiness will eventually lead to ulcer, diabetes, anemia, or an early heart stroke.
A slight wave of nausea rose up from Justin's stomach, and he clamped his mouth shut to keep anything from coming out. Breakfast. Must eat. And coffee, he thought as he poured a generous amount of body wash onto a luffa. He scrubbed himself hard enough to turn his skin red as he tried to wash off the memories of the previous night. It had been years since he had last partied like that, and there was a reason for it. He was not a good drunk. In fact, somewhere in the back of his mind, Justin vaguely remembers dwelling into a tongue wrestling match with a woman he did not know. Or… was it women? He winced as he suddenly remembered at least more than two women that he ended up groping and taking into his room. He scrubbed harder until he felt his skin burn, only stopping when he was working on scrubbing his arm and noticed a thin, untanned line that encircled his wrist. His eyes glazed in recognition.
Harper.
The untanned line was caused by the very same hair tie that Harper gave him as a good luck charm when he entered the Family Wizard Competition. Justin had forgotten all about it until last night, when the thing finally snapped from being worn on his wrist for years. Thoughts of his time with her had been the push he needed to convince himself to let go, to allow himself to indulge in booze and nameless women for just one, vulnerable night.
The thought of Harper made his chest tighten. The wounds were far from fresh, but, nevertheless, they have yet to fully heal. It had taken him months after her disappearance, and numerous heart-to-heart sessions with his father, to completely understand why she left. If he was in her position, he would've been tempted to react similarly. Although, as he rationalized and analyzed her actions in his head, he gradually became upset and bitter at how she had handled it. Why didn't she just talk to him? If he had known, he would have done something about it. He would have changed everything. It would have been hard, but between the two of them, Justin had no doubts that they could have turned it around for their benefit.
Justin was desperate at first. He spent months searching for her; even going as far as demanding from her parents where she had gone. He also harassed his sister constantly, insisting that if anyone knew where Harper was hiding, it would be her. Both parties, no matter how much Justin bothered them, simply shook their heads at him and told him that he was wasting his time. Eventually, his initial drive dwindled, causing him to give up on his search and permit bitterness and depression to take over. As years passed, he slowly evolved into the workaholic hermit that he was now.
Noticing the pruning skin on the tip of his fingers, Justin turned the shower off and slowly dried himself with a towel. The fatigue of liquor has yet to go away, leaving him feeling sluggish and lazy. With great effort, he started his morning routine of downing at least two cups of coffee while watching the morning news before dressing in his usual dress shirt, tie, and slacks. Afterwards, he allowed himself a final once-over in front of the mirror, tucked his briefcase under one arm while holding a coffee tumbler with the other, and headed out of his apartment. Minutes later, he re-entered his apartment while cursing. He rummaged through his underwear drawer, took out his wand, and then secured it to a wand holster attached to his right calf. He cursed aloud a final time before leaving again with a loud slamming of his door.
Justin welcomed the cool morning air as he walked briskly to the subway. It was at times like these that he was most relaxed. The world seemed to be at a limbo between sleep and consciousness as the sun peaked over the horizon just enough to offer a reddening blanket over the darkness of the disappearing night. The surrounding streets of New York City were devoid of its usual noise and activity, relieving the morning goers of their anticipated stresses and lives. Even the crazies and the homeless seem to disappear momentarily.
Or not, Justin thought as he eyes a teenager putting money into the subway ticket machine. A fairly normal teenager carrying a skateboard, regardless of the all-too-familiar black Wizard robe that he wore.
The not-so-subtle change in the current wardrobe craze in the entire country had been a current dilemma at the Department of Magic and Mortal Affairs; which appropriates into Justin's immediate jurisdiction. The problem had started innocently enough with the vast exposure of the Harry Potter movies and various other Wizards-related merchandise. The Wizards-clothing line seemed harmless to start with, but when an actual indie-boutique line took interest in it, the franchise suddenly boomed out of proportion. Before Justin could even take action, mortals from California, New York, and New Jersey were already sporting clothing that looked too similar to other-worldly attires. The latest craze included coats that looked like Wizards robes, thick black-rimmed glasses, and even wand-holsters (just like the one that Justin was currently wearing). Soon, brightly-colored dresses that looked similar to the faery fashion style, jackets and boots that resembled dwarf working clothes, and even elf-inspired lingerie were being sold from almost every store.
Many manufacturers capitalized on the latest trend, but only one fashion line in particular were releasing the very authentic, almost-look-like-they-really-were-made-by-magical-creatures clothes: Finky, a brand which Justin had grown quite wary of. Other stores like Walmart and Target released similar clothes, but those were still obviously copies. Fakes. But the Finky brand were releasing clothes that not only looked similar to what magical creatures would wear, but actually looked exactly like what magical creatures wear. The details of the brand's fashion lines were exquisitely accurate. It was as if the company was owned by a magical creature; one that had been very observant of the magical world's tastes and decided to capitalize on it. That, in itself, was why Justin's department had been investigating the matter. It was a direct threat to the Wizard World's secret.
For months, Justin, along with many of those directly under his supervision, had been investigating Finky. Nothing unusual had ever surfaced. All reports seem to point to it being a regular clothing brand. Although, what did seem ultimately suspicious to Justin was the lack of information regarding the brand's designer. He, or she, had never been captured on camera. The designer, and creator, of Finky were well hidden from the paparazzi, and this fact has been questioned by various tabloids before. Controversies had been hoaxed up to cover for the designer's lack of appearance: some had claimed that the designer was rather ugly and didn't fit the image of such a successful line, while others claimed that the designer suffered from personality disorders, thus requiring the designer to stay away from people. Nonetheless, figuring out who the designer was or why the designer was hiding had been Justin's immediate mission, and he had intended to start on it today. And if only his head wasn't protesting so much, he would be more determined about it.
Maybe I'll start it tomorrow, he thought miserably.
Justin walked through the subway station with ease. His sluggish movements slowly became more precise and automatic as he transferred through two trains to reach his destination. The college was still relatively empty, besides a few fellow colleagues who held morning responsibilities and the college's gardeners. With a few nods and hellos on the way, Justin quickly reached his classroom. Once inside, he sighed in relief as he gazed upon the different equipments, charts and models that was so familiar to him. He smiled to himself as a sense of normalcy, that he was usually deprived of, took hold of his mind.
The rest of his day was moderately calm and uneventful. His classes went smoothly and his headache, though present, remained dormant with the help of numerous cups of coffee. Even his students had been unusually behaved. His mood was on its way to completely improved until, after the last of his classes ended and he was left to tidy up his paperwork, he suddenly saw a picture sitting atop his desk.
Not even addressing the fact that the picture appeared out of nowhere, Justin grimaced as he saw himself, in all his colorfully drunken glory, seemingly taking a vodka shot off of a redhead's belly button. He didn't even recognize who the woman was. Justin groaned as he picked up the photo and lifted it for a closer look, hoping beyond hope that maybe the drunken fool within it was someone else.
"Someone was extra naughty last night."
Justin jumped at the uninvited voice. He turned around sharply and tried to emit composure against his sister's truthful accusation. The slightly dazed look of his eyes and his sluggish posture, however, betrayed him.
He glanced at the picture in his hand, and then transferred his frown towards Alex. "You were there?"
Alex scoffed. "Of course I was. Thanks for inviting me, by the way."
Justin shook his head as he opened his briefcase and appropriated the contents of his desk into it. "It was a surprise party. I didn't know about it."
"Oh. Well, either way, I didn't mind crashing. That's more of my style anyway."
Alex eyed her brother curiously as he ripped up the picture and pushed it to the bottom of his trash can.
"So," Justin started, trying to keep the grogginess from his tone. "How bad was I?"
Alex grinned. "Let's just say that it is definitely a good thing that you only work here part time. Otherwise, the discomfort level of this department would jump from normally nerdy to extremely controversial."
Justin groaned again as he buried his face in his hands. "I'm ruined."
Alex momentarily basked in her brother's embarrassment. "Hey, it'll be okay," she said as she patted his shoulder lightly. "As soon as I realized that you were hammered, which was absolutely fantastic, by the way, so good job—" she inserted with a laugh, "I made sure that all of the cameras at the party malfunctioned. Including phone cameras."
"Then how do you explain that?" Justin asked, pointing at the trash can.
Alex smirked. "My phone camera, on the other hand, was not included."
Justin glared at her. "I want the pictures deleted."
"No."
Justin sighed heavily. "Evil little—"
"Well, anyhoo-ha," she said with a tilt of her head. She took a square envelope out of back pocket and held it out to him. "Here."
He eyed the envelope warily before accepting it. "An invitation? To what?"
"A fashion show," she said with a smirk. "A friend of mine offered a hefty price for the copyright to a few of my illustrations. She's using them on her new line."
"Line?"
"Clothing line. A new set of her designs will feature my illustrations as prints, and the debut will be tonight."
Justin sighed. "I don't know, Alex. I have a headache to nurse."
Her smirk widened to a knowing grin. "I insist you come, Justin. I have a feeling you'll find the event pretty interesting. It'll definitely be worth your while."
He stared at her. "And how exactly would you guarantee that I, a college professor and renowned Wizard Council member, will be interested in a fashion show?"
"Renowned?"
"Yes, renowned."
Alex stared at him.
"Okay, fine. Relatively renowned."
"Relative to what?"
"Please just answer the question." Justin gritted through his teeth.
Placing both hands on her waists, she raised an eyebrow. "Trust me."
Justin eyed her curiously, still unsure of what to make of his sister's invitation.
Alex just rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. "There will be something there that I think you'll want to see." She smiled mischievously. "Consider it a late birthday present."
Justin frowned and tried to organize his questions in his head, but before he could ask further, Alex disappeared with a bright flash of light. Justin just shook his head and eyed the invitation warily. His pounding headache had doubled from seeing the offending photograph that Alex planted for him to see. With another shake of his head, he gathered his suitcase, checked to see if his wand was still secured, and headed out of the door.
When Justin arrived late at the fashion show, which was held as a private event within a space of the Museum of Contemporary Art, he felt as awkward as he anticipated being. The place was full of well-dressed people that ranged in all varieties of fashionable. From the faux-pas to the contemporary, to the Betty-Pages, and to the classic conservatives. If Justin's tweed jacket and gray slacks was not acceptable for the event, no one would have noticed because everyone stood out in their own respect.
Justin stopped walking as a flute of champagne appeared at his eye-level. His eyes widened as he followed the hand holding it back to his very own brother.
"Hello hello!" Max exclaimed. "You came!"
Justin nodded and took the flute. "Alex insisted. Wouldn't leave me alone until I agreed." He sipped his champagne and sighed happily as the bubbly liquid cooled his throat. "Is there anything stronger than this? I have a really stubborn headache that won't go away."
Max chuckled. "I heard. Follow the Maxxy-man and I'll lead you to the bar," he said with a gesture of his hand.
"So, Max," Justin started as he followed with caution. "Alex said that tonight would be worth my attention. According to past experiences, I really should stop believing her willy-nilly, but I came anyway. Do you have any idea what she was talking about?"
Max eyed him curiously as he raised a finger to the bartender. "Yup."
Their conversation halted momentarily as they vocalized their alcoholic preferences to the bartender. As soon as their drinks were finished and exchanged for their flutes of champagne, Justin narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Max. "Why do I get the feeling that I'm going to regret coming here tonight?"
"Au contraire, my friend," replied Max as he swigged his beer. "You will definitely hate tonight, but I don't think you'll regret it. If anything, you'll be very happy you came tonight."
"Happy?"
"Well, okay, no, not happy exactly. Maybe, satisfied?" Max continued. "Content? An emotion somewhere between mediocre and horrified? I'm not sure if there's a word for it. I mean, tonight will be both good and bad for you."
"O. Kay. I'm leaving now."
"Wait, wait!" Max exclaimed, seizing Justin by the arm and pulling him before he could move away. "Alright, I get it. Alex is untrustworthy. Even I know that. But, trust me, Justin. Okay? You gotta stay. Just stay."
"What is with all the secrecy? I swear, Alex is rubbing off too much on you." Justin glared at him. "I'm still nursing a really bad hangover. I'm not in the mood to be placed in an even worst mood."
Max looked at him sternly. "Justin, if you leave now, I guarantee that you'll regret it. Now shut up, drink up, and stay."
Surprised by Max's determination and conviction, Justin sighed heavily and took a generous sip of his scotch. The liquid burned in his throat but he welcomed the slight haziness that it provided to his aching head. He behaved himself for the majority of the night. He conversed with random socialites, even threw in a few professional comments regarding fashion and art at the appropriate moments, while Max stuck to him like glue. Probably to make sure I don't leave, Justin thought. The night progressed with pop music, alcohol, and model shows at ten-minute intervals within the three raised catwalk stages built within the museum. Needless to say, Justin enjoyed the almost half-naked models, at the very least.
It was on Justin's fifth glass of scotch that he suddenly realized the clothes that were being modeled looked vaguely familiar. Many of them showcased prints of Alex's paintings, but the designs looked too recognizable for comfort. He could've sworn he had worn some of the clothes before.
Justin's eyes widened as his mind started piecing the puzzle together. His gaze rose to the banner atop the entrance and he swore outloud.
"Finky," he said absentmindedly as his eyes traced the pastel curves of the brand, written on the banner.
Max snickered. "Good clothes, bro. They're kinda cute."
Justin turned to him abruptly. "Max, Finky is the brand that my department is investigating," he whispered harshly. "They're manufacturing clothes that look too much like Wizards' clothes!"
"And, of course, being here will be good for your investigation, right?"
Justin stood back in surprised. "Is that why I'm here? Is that why Alex insisted that I come?"
Max's eyes twinkled with mischief as he noticed the volume of the music lowered to a degree and the models of the stages dispersed. "Nope. You're here for something else."
Justin was about to press further when a voice suddenly boomed through the air.
"Hello, everyone! Good evening!"
Both Russo's turned towards the center stage to see a tall blonde, who was gowned and fluffed to her peak, grinning and speaking through a microphone. Justin immediately recognized her as Finky's lead representative, a substitute to the actual designer's lack of appearances.
"I would just like to take this opportunity to thank all of you for attending. As you may all know, tonight is an especially exclusive occasion. Not only do we showcase our latest designs… You, all of you, will also get to finally see the genius behind everything!"
Applause erupted from all around. Justin turned his head abruptly to Max, who just grinned maddeningly at him.
"Now, now," she cooed with a wide gesture of her hand, "I know what you're thinking… Why now? Why, after so long did she decide to finally show her face? Well, Sirs and Ma'ams, I will most definitely tell you why. It is because, just recently, she became… drum roll please!"
Justin rolled his eyes as her heard the sound of drums rolling.
"Engaged! She became engaged!"
Applause erupted again. Justin frowned as he became increasingly suspicious of Max's Cheshire-like grin.
"And now, without further a dew, I present, the creator, owner, and absolute genius behind Finky! Let's give her another round of applause!"
Justin's eyed bulged to their fullest as a familiar figure walked out into the stage. Realization and clarity hit him at top speed. His breathing heightened and his surprise turned into a scowl as he gazed at the familiar redhead waving at the crowd. The pale, white skin, the short auburn bob atop her head, and the smile that he still occasionally pictures in his mind before sleeping at night. He shook his head, as if trying to deny the unfolded events before him, but his long-dealings with logic scrutinized his brain at the unmistaken appearance of her. An extreme weight of stupidity overwhelmed him as he berated himself for not putting the pieces of the mystery together sooner.
Clothes that looked similar, if not accurately, Magical…
The designer never showing her face to the public…
Finky…
Finkle…
Justin shook his head again, disbelieving what was happening. It was only when he felt Max's hand under his chin did he realize that his mouth had been hanging open for the past several minutes.
"Happy birthday, Justin," he said to his brother over the still roaring crowd, as he pushed Justin's chin up to close his gaping mouth.