WARNING – this instalment has some strong M rated content waiting up ahead – consider yourself informed. With that out of the way – welcome back, and I hope you enjoy this next chapter. I've done my best and pulled out all the stops to make it worth the wait.
There are also new chapters of 'Hairdresser' and 'Alien Problems' up, too. Now, without any further delay, let the chapter begin! I'm keeping my opening authors notes to a minimum today so I don't detract from the read!
Haze
Saturday night - the aftermath of another gig at Lusties. Mike sprawled against the bar with a quiet smile, and lips pressed against the side of a glass. There was nothing like a good helping of something strong to ease the post-music adrenaline. His eyes swept across the sea of people upon the dance floor – it never seemed too quiet in this nightclub. After all, the manager was smart – varying the music on different days to lure in patrons from all manner social cliques.
"One more and I'll head home," Winters nudged a pair of crisp bills in the direction of a bartender, nodding his head with a smooth smirk, "Same again, on the rocks this ti-"
"How about I get that for you, cutie?"
A curvy girl winked at him, her locks of most gorgeous golden-blonde held up with an adorable pink bow. Her long, thick legs shined a beautiful ivory white under the glow of neon hues - while her voluptuous behind jiggled within the confines of tight-fitting denim shorts. She sprawled over the bar with a darling giggle, her most ample womanly assets almost spilling from the 'protection' of her loosely buttoned white shirt. Slinked between the fingers of both hands she held drinks – a pair of brownish cocktails.
No bra – Mike's thoughts pulsed in overload as this impressive spectacle of feminine allure brought her fullest smile into the picture – the booze was irrelevant. A thump of the heart: not just caused by her body, but the wonderfulness of her face, too.
Her crystalline-blue eyes shone with backing from all the wonderful colors in the club. Dotted upon her smoothed, whitened cheeks were soft freckles – while her round button nose twitched as cute as a button.
'Damn…. She's hot… really fucking hot!'
The thoughts weren't pure – the singer made no attempt to drown them out, either. Instead, he popped the top buttons of his checked-black shirt and slid a little closer – offering the bar stool closest to the angel with a suave gesture of his hand, "Grab a seat, sweetheart…. I'd be happy to take one of those drinks off your hands…."
"Like… don't mind if you do, handsome!" She chuckled again between the stiff valley-girl twang of her accent, parking her bottom - and with a crimson shade consuming her cheeks, she handed one of the beverages over.
"I'm Charlotte… and you've gotta be Mike, right?"
So she'd heard of him already – this was a very good start, "Yeah… you're right on the money. I'm guessing you came to see us play tonight?"
Another heavenly giggle – Charlotte brought her glass closer to sip, "Came all the way from Oakridge to see you guys! Oh… and so I could meet with my bestie, too! Not seen her crazy butt since we finished high school."
"In fact," the curvaceous lady turned, "She's right over the-"
Mike watched as she paused in mid-point, her blue sparkles widened with surprise, "Oh… that's weird! Well… she was right over there, anyway."
It was time to bring this line of conversation back on track. The singer leaned in closer with a truly devilish smile – he was ready to set things in motion, "Don't worry about her, beautiful. I'm much more interested in you, anyway. You said you came all the way across the county to see me, right?"
"Oh God, yes!" Charlotte squeaked, "And it's so awesome I can meet you in person like this! I've only ever heard your music on the radio! What was the song…? 'Destiny' or something? I love that one SO MUCH!"
"Old news, I'm afraid," the playboy broke from its shackles – Mike let his passions do the talking from here, "Destiny's from our early days… but… if you want… we could go somewhere a little more 'private' and you could tell me more about yourself? Maybe… just maybe… I could write you into one of our new songs."
A scream erupted from the blonde fangirl as her hands clasped together – her eyes wide and radiant like something out of an old cartoon, "Yes! YesYesYes! THAT WOULD BE SO COOL! In fact… I've got an even more, like, super-awesome idea!"
Mike downed his drink – ego flaring in full force. Man, he'd gotten so good at turning on his charms for the ladies. Once again, Kyu's guidance served to make him even more powerful, "Indulge me, sweetness," he uttered smoothly, "Because right now… my eyes are on you…."
"I like," Charlotte blushed a furious flame-red, her hands shuddering with excitement, "….I'm staying in a motel out of town… how about we go back there?"
"I'm," she stammered sheepishly, "I'm so happy to finally meet you…. I don't wanna waste our time together in a place like this…."
"But what about your friend?" Winters had the girl in his grasp now. His blood coursed red-hot through his veins – he could feel it, his Talent, winning him yet another beautiful prize. "I'm sure you don't want to leave her here all by herself…."
"She'll understand… she's a big girl." The freckled beauty plucked Mike's hand and brought it closer – allowing it to rest upon the softness of her semi-exposed bosom, "Now… let's get the heck out of here…. I've got so many things I want to show you…."
Bingo – fireworks erupted within as Mike slinked with the deadly charm of a snake, "You read my mind," and placed a soft kiss upon his lady friend's lips. Yet another guilt-free conquest of the female heart – it felt so wonderful.
'First time I've picked up a fan after a show… but I can't help myself. She's smoking hot!'
Charlotte took his hand as their lips separated, "Alright, Mike…. Let's go find a taxi…."
A surrealist swirl of colours – breathing hard and laboured amidst a sandstorm of contrasting shades and shapes. They danced and flicked in unison, forming the deepest reds, the most powerful blues, and the harshest hues of yellow. The warmth of union – it brought even the darkest souls to rest. Amidst a wave of powerful music, the blond singer found his senses frayed and scattered. The organ in his chest pumped frantically as his furious 'assets' took their rightful claim. Cries of ecstasy swam within a dystopian pool of sounds - as the foggy shape of a curvy girl gasped in sweaty release.
"More… more… please… don't stop!"
Every movement felt heavy – its consistency bringing the toned body of the roguish vocalist further and further toward the edge. It felt so good, so amazing in fact that he kept up with the motions of the ocean. His body, enveloped in an invisible blue flicker, moved on reflex, while his thoughts rang out in lustful fury. So this was what truest passion felt like? It took his limited knowledge and effortlessly smashed it.
"Oh shit…. I'm almost… almost there…. OH MY," A howl of glorious euphoria, "Yeah…. That's it! Oh shit… you're more than just a pretty face, aren't you Mikey, baby?"
Overload – a hellish flare of enjoyment burned through Mike's connection to the self. A wonderful wave washed over his body – and the only thing he could make out was the softness of another rested against his chest.
"That was… PERFECT!" Charlotte's voice rang out – gracing his ears most pleasingly, "I'm like, super glad I came out to see you guys play live…."
Smiling contentedly, Mikey laid back against the pillow, arms folded behind his neck for support. His eyes twisted with a cloudy swirl of blue, "Glad I could be of service."
I've got the power…. Knew I was right to stop being so sentimental with the ladies. As long as I've got my charm… and my talents as a singer... nothing can stop me. Thanks Kyu… thanks for turning me from zero to a motherfucking hero! I'm totally untouchable….'
Thoughts of grandeur stuffed his head – the notion of his name in lights as the band exited a beautifully shined limousine for the music awards. First, Glenberry, and then onward to the rest of the country. His meek gentile attitude of the past had done nothing to change his life – and his pre-Kyu hopelessness before it had achieved even less. Indeed, only like this could he reach out and attain his desires.
'Nothing's gonna hold me back now….'
Pain – or something closer to sluggishness, it was the first thing Mike felt when his internal switches flicked back into place. Through a battlefield of drowsiness he trudged, his entirety overcome by a weight so powerful, he could barely lift his head off the pillow. His first thought was a simple one as the alarm mounted:
'Sleep never feels this heavy…'
Struggle was a severe discredit to the trails his ailing form faced right now. The usually slow process of his brain thawing was even worse this time around. It took everything he had, a surge, and a pulse, something gargantuan.
Light assaulted his eyes – no doubt thanks to the paper-thin motel curtains. An excruciating feeling close to a knife surged forth, stabbing his head with a most indignant discomfort. His brain, wracked by the force, responded in panic and his vision jittered until finally stabilizing itself.
"Man… I feel like shit…."
The battle wasn't over just yet – not until he summoned every ounce of strength he could, and rather forcefully pulled his body upright with a pained cough. Bells chimed internally – their intensity something close to Vatican City – it was a source of concern, all right.
'What in the world happened last night?'
Every attempt to recall was met with a shroud – a grey lingering veil over his memories. Sighing with frustration, the singer kicked his legs off the bed and finally stood upright.
*Crunch*
A piece of paper underneath his foot? Well… that was unexpected. Reaching down to pick it up wasn't without its share of groggy aches and pains. Regardless, he persisted and took the little white sheet into his hands, eyes of green running over the contents – neatly written contents in blue pen, at that.
'Morning hot stuff! If you're reading this I've like, already checked out… gotta work later on this afternoon! I know, shame, right? I bet you wanna spend more time with me. Last night… it was special…. You ain't just a sweet voice on the radio anymore… you're so totally real! Don't freak though, baby…. If you start to miss me then I've already put my digits in your super cool phone…. How did you get one with such ADORBS heart-shaped buttons? Call me… I totes need to see ya again! Love Charlotte. ^_-.'
"Charlotte?" Everything was still a mishmash of chaotic pictures – nothing was coming to the forefront despite Mike's best attempts. "Why am I having such a hard time remembering anything from last night? Huh? What's this?"
On the floor beside the spot the piece of paper had been – a rounded pellet, more like a whitish pill. Picking it up was the easy part, figuring it out what it was felt like the bigger mystery, "Don't tell me I took something…"
The lone white offender brought a shiver up Mike's spine – its coldness acting more like a spectral figure, "Now I've got a really bad feeling…."
His first reflex was to check over his surroundings – it seemed messy, but nothing too out of the ordinary for his morning ritual. Articles of clothing lay strewn across the beige carpets and dusty draws of the grungy abode - a pair of jeans thrown on the desk area, a sock at the foot of the bed, and his shirt sprawled messily beside the bathroom door. Where his boxers had gone was a total mystery. There was no denying that the man-made heap didn't help the already tattered room.
Peeling wallpaper and mould encrusted corners, a real roadside truck stop, that was for sure. Yet Mike would've felt far more at ease if he'd been able to recall what actually happened with some clarity.
Uncertainty, it wasn't something Winters enjoyed, and that was putting it mildly, "I need to think back… try and piece together the speci-"
'I gave you my heart… on the wings of broken promises! But it doesn't matter….'
Another attack to his already fractured senses came in the form of his cell phone – it sang and vibrated across the bedside table, but for the longest time Mike couldn't bring himself to answer it. It was the sudden influx of volume, it proved far too much to handle. Alas, the blond man remained bolted to the floor, frozen in time. Regardless, his cellular device of magical creation kept on singing with its smooth frontman call.
"I better answer it… as much as I don't want to."
A clumsy athletic burst of energy took his weighty body the few steps needed to reach the instrument of musical torment. Scooping the phone in his left hand, Mikey jabbed his finger against the 'Accept' icon on screen. "Yep... You need something?"
"Winters… I assume you're aware of the current predicament we're in. I hope you can enlighten me as to why you chose to do it… because right now I find myself more than a little jarred." Mark? This early in the morning? No wait – what time was it? A quick glance toward the battered silver alarm clock revealed it was one in the afternoon.
"Seriously, man…. I've just woken up…. What 'predicament' are you talking about? I'm sat here with a headache from Satan himself and I'm absolutely clueless."
"Please don't insult my intelligence with dishonesty," Mister Kane's reply only served to deepen the confusion. "After all… your exploits serve to land us in a sea of trouble… that is unless you have an exceedingly good explanation for them."
"'My exploits', Markus… I'm more than a little lost here…. I don't have a clue what you mean."
There was a long pause across the line – followed up with a deep and encompassing sigh from Mike's friend and manager. "Then perhaps it would be best if you check the band's website… that should provide you with all the answers you need."
"Listen to me," Mike came back, his frustration rising, "I already told you…. I couldn't even begin to tell you where I am! Everything's still blurred together... I can't really check the website right now."
Silence – it only worsened the mix of dread and annoyance the vocalist felt. Why wasn't Markus being more frank? He was usually renowned for that, of all things.
"…If what you're saying really is the case… then please come back to town as swiftly as possible. I'll be holding an emergency meeting of the band at The Bar and Lounge… you know the one, I'm sure?"
"A band meeting? For real, there's no need! We did great! Markus… seriously! Did you see them last night? They fucking loved us!"
"Michael," the sternness of Mister Kane's lone word held enough power to silence the younger blond man outright. His fingers clamped tighter around the phone. True, 'Michael' wasn't his birth name, but the sentiment for such a formal use meant one thing, his manager was pissed.
"….Forgive me, Mike. I'd like to believe in your good nature. You have been as faithful as a brother to me these past three years, but right now, I find myself in a 'difficult' position. Don't waste any time… come straight back to Glenberry, all right? Our table is booked for seven this evening… and please don't let me down – I had to pull some strings to make this reservation."
The ominous 'click' – Mark's hanging up did little in the way of making Mike feel any more at ease toward this frankly disorienting situation. He sighed, punching his fist against the headboard of the bed, "….I need to head back to town… but first I better figure out where the fuck I am…. None of this makes any sense."
Tiny pieces of last night's events crept forward in a throbbing crescendo – the sight of an adorable girl with blonde hair in a bow. "Where did you take me after we left the club last night?"
"Oakridge?!" Mike thumped against the reception desk in horror – a tiny little town in back and beyond. Christ, it was over an hour by car from here to Glenberry. Any further and might as well head back to his hometown of Greenville.
"Yes sir," came the stern follow-up from a rather plump lady receptionist, "I can call you a cab if you'd like, but I imagine the fare will be at least eighty to Glenberry. Otherwise, there's always the bus… but you can expect a two hour journey with several stops along the way…."
There was no time – Mike needed to get there now! A feeling in his gut told him there was chaos afoot, and he had little in the way of power to fight it. "Thanks anyway," he grunted through his teeth, "I'll figure something out…."
"You have a good day, sir… and please take a moment to relax… you're looking a little stressed."
'Stressed' was putting it lightly, "You too, lady, you too..."
"FUCKFUCKFUCK… FUCK!" Mike slumped on the sidewalk – thumping a stone with the side of his shoe in a desperate attempt to bring his burning temper down a notch. It wasn't working, "How could I be so stupid? I knew I should've picked up my credit card before leaving for Lusties…."
"Shit… now I'm stuck here… in the ass-end of absolute fucking desolation." Ominous black thunderclouds growled overhead, "Don't you dare rain on me… not now! I've had enough… and it's only two in the afternoon…."
'Such a sexy, sexy… pretty little thing… a girl so strong you make my heart sing!'
His phone? Again? Wait – it was a text message.
"Markus…. What do you have to say now?"
'I called in a favour for you, Mike. Don't ask questions – in about ten minutes a black car will come to collect you - a driver and escort. They will take you wherever you need to go before delivering you home. These are men of my father's – so do not be alarmed if you see the Kane Business Associates logo on the side of the vehicle. Lastly, before you panic… I received an anonymous text message from someone called 'Sapphire'. They told me you were all the way in Oakridge of all places. I will see you soon… and please be more cautious in future.'
A dry laugh – Mike held his face in his hands and let a silent tear of thankfulness trickle from his dimmed eyes of green, "Thanks, Mark… You've always got my back…."
Yet the contents of the message still held room for worry, "Sapphire? That name again…. What in the Hell?"
It was time – Mike stood at the entrance of The Bar and Lounge – one of Glenberry's premier drinking establishments. Gazing up at the warm sign above the door, he bit his lip nervously, "I wonder why they insisted I come here of all places?"
His fingers mauled the collar of his freshly ironed navy blue shirt – his eyes panned down to observe the shined dress-shoes of his attire. These inconsequential little diversions did little to bring his mind clear of the painful unease in his stomach, "No sense playing around out here." Stepping forth through the 'swish' of the revolving doors, Winters set his eyes of emerald dead ahead. "It's time to figure out what in the world is happening, here."
It was a full house. Sat at the centre table were two identical brothers, an aloof gentleman with his eyes concealed by sunglasses, and a reasonably well dressed, slightly chunkier man in his best smart-casual attire. Mark, Neil, Steve and of course, Jamie – the four of them talked in low voices back and forth – only stopping their dialogue when Mike arrived and pulled out a chair.
"Alright…. I'm here."
A snap of Mark's fingers and a nearby waiter scurried away, "Mike," the manager of the band nodded stiffly, "….The four of us need to know the truth about something…."
Four sets of accusing eyes, all of varying shades and intensity bore into the pit of the blond man's soul. He backpedalled slightly, a defensive raise of the hands to show his submission, "What are those looks for? Guys… you're seriously fucking with my vibe here…."
Even the twins – usually the carefree ones of the bunch, had a slightly surprised look, though one of them did crack a smirk, "….Dude…. How did you manage it, huh? To score with-"
"No, Steve," Mark glared through his shades to return silence to their table, "Put your libido to rest for a moment and let's address this serious issue like adults." From his pocket, the manager with spiked brown hair pulled a phone, punched a few buttons, and slid it across the table.
"Mike," he continued seriously, digits outstretched as he reached for his drink, "This was posted earlier today from your account… on our website for the group. Take a look… and then promptly begin explaining."
Mister Winter's brow raised in vague interest – it looked like the thumbnail of a video. With a couple of presses on the side button, he lowered the volume before jabbing the 'Play' icon with the base of his thumb.
Horror – his eyes widened in discrase, his heart immediately raising to such a speed as to bring pains in his chest. A twirling vortex grabbed his stomach, the sickness rising to the point where vomit was not far off on the horizon.
'That's the spot! Right there! Please… Mikey… baby…. Don't you dare stop. Oh shit, squeeze me… claw me! I'm almost there-'
The thoughts of the vocalist trailed off amidst the flurry of images running rampant. In this video clip, he lay sprawled across a dirty motel bed, doing all manner of intensely filthy things to a curvy blonde woman – with the height of this most unnerving sight being her whimpers and howls of unrestrained delight – all while she clumsily pawed at him with hungry eyes.
Everything froze in icy coldness – the phone dropping from Mike's hand with a bang, "Oh shit…. That was filmed? No way…. NO FUCKING WAY! "
Mark swept the phone back in his grasp and glared toward his green-eyed friend, sunglasses tilted to reveal his stabbing blue lights, "As I said... this video is plastered across half of our pages under your name…. I want you to be straight with me, Mike…."
Jamie leaned in with a pained cough as well - and wet his throat with a stiff shot of golden liquid, "Did you upload this? Because we all need to know what happened - now."
Steve – currently the left half of the identical duo, flipped his amazingly long brown hair back and folded his thin, bony fingers together, "Mike, for real, buddy…. Sure it's cool to take a girl back for a little R&R… but don't record it, Jesus…."
"I swear," the walls of the room felt as though they were closing in – all the while Mike felt his throat tighten horribly, "I didn't do this… I swear… I didn't! I had no clue the video was even taken…."
"Well, whatever the case," Mark got up from the table and came to stand beside Mike – hand rested upon his shoulder, "Until we figure this out… there's little in the way of evidence to show you didn't upload the video. To that end… we've decided to put the band on indefinite hiatus until we figure out what to do."
"No, not a chance!" A fear of world obliterating proportions shook Mike down to the core in an instant. His music, his dreams, all he used to define himself… his memories of his departed mother… it was falling apart before his eyes! Nothing could stop his emotions from flaring, "You have to believe me…. You can't freeze the band like this…."
Crushing his pain – Winters swung up from his seat with a sweeping gesture across the entire table, "This band's the whole reason we came to Glenberry… we've been chasing this since college!"
"There's more to it than that," Jamie took a moment to reach across the table – Mark passing him the phone as he went. After adjusting his position in the seat, he gave the screen a few prods and passed the phone along to Mike, "A pair of anonymous comments popped up a couple of hours after the video went live…. Pretty suspect if you ask me..."
Mike's head spun as the sickness threatened to overwhelm him – his eyes turning dead wide in most utter disbelief. No matter how many times he read these over, they made no sense:
'At 11:15am today 'Krissy Campbell' wrote - See? Didn't I tell you this band was nasty? They're a bunch of total fuckheads. I've had their lead singer come onto me before, and now here's all the proof you need! Somebody report this video! It's disgusting….'
'At 12:07pm today 'Anna Rouge' wrote – I'd heard rumours going 'round town that Mikey was a serious player, and now my eyes are open. I feel terrible for the poor girl in this video – does she even know it's been posted online? Somebody start a petition… let's boycott these guys and have pretty boy held accountable!'
No words could describe this – Mike hung his head in defeat, "This isn't me…. You guys know I would't lower myself to such twisted shit," with clenched fists he looked back up, eyes searing hot, "This group is more important to me than anything! Why would I do something so stupid?"
A dry laugh of sarcasm - Jamie clenched his huge fists. Grabbing his drink, he downed the entire thing and 'slammed' the glass against the table, "Oh... great! Just fantastic! You think your word's worth something when we all know how much of a damn womanizer you're becoming? First it was the skank... the one who wore the expensive dresses, then you started flaunting some ditzy cheerleader around, and if that weren't enough..."
The bruising attack continued with a smug smile – all while Mike felt his walls crumble, "YOU put us on hold a little while back. As usual, you were having problems... Yet I saw you... strutting back and forth from the old arcade with some skinny girl in glasses! Now you stand there with the gall to complain about us putting things on the shelf because your 'habits' landed us in hot water!"
"That is enough - stop... before we start drawing a crowd. You're taking it too far, Jamie."
Finally, a ray of hope. Mark took his phone back and gave Mike a pat on the shoulder, "I will admit… this is something seriously out of character for you, Winters. I would like to stick by you… truly I would… but I will not tolerate it if you lie to-"
"Utter bullshit," Jamie thundered – rising from his seat with the ferocity of a lion, "….You're not telling me you're buying this crap, Markus? We all know he's got a nasty tendency for letting his ego get the better of him. Wasn't this the whole point of tonight - so we could finally put him in his place for it?"
"Not just yet," Markus held out a defensive arm to bar his peroxide-haired friend from the torrent of rage, "Everyone deserves a chance to-"
Cutting the manager off, the bearded behemoth continued his rampage regardless, "Trying to take a step back, are you? It was your idea to hold this meet!"
Mike's stomach churned even harder as the sound technician turned to the twin guitarists in appeal, "You two can vouch for this... even if Mark won't. How many times have we had to cancel shows these past four months because of Mike's woman trouble?"
"Don't ask us to take sides."
"Don't ask us to take sides."
A response in unison from the brothers – both keeping their eyes down and their lips to their drinks.
"FINE! You know what?" Jamie boomed in thunderous rage – an all-accusing point of the finger stabbing Mike in the chest, "I'm sick of putting my time into the 'band' to see this fucking moron ruin it time and again with his dick! How can all of you keep letting his screw-ups slide?"
"There's such a thing as innocent until proven guilty," Mark stepped to the front and folded his arms like a guard, "We can't just oust our lead without-"
"This room reeks of bias - disgusting. All three of you have chosen your side already... typical! Well... don't blame me when it all comes crashing down!" No more words – Jamie swiped the coat from the back of his chair and stormed out, leaving a sea of gawking patons in his wake. He'd been louder than the background music, clearly.
"End of the line," Mike backed several paces away from Markus – giving him a respectful nod of the head before turning toward the door, "Thanks... for doing what you always do... but I see it, Mark - even through the shades. You're a logical man... Don't force yourself to fight my corner... No need. I see things for what they are... especially after everything Jamie said. I'm leaving."
The wounded singer slipped into the gawking mass of patrons beside the bar, and vanished. With his departure, the meeting was reduced to a sombre number of three.
Neil and Steve looked back and forth in confusion before finally clamping their unified gaze upon the 'leader' of sorts.
"What do we do now, boss man?" Neil finally spoke up - begging for guidance, "….I don't wanna see this little gig we have fall apart… it's been the most fun I've had in years. But serious talk for a second... you think he really did it?"
For once – Markus Kane was almost lost for words, "I don't know..."
The prodigy paused - letting his cloudy mind take stock of the situation for a moment, sitting beside the brothers with a sigh, "...It's true, the proof is sitting right before us... but certain aspects still feel flawed in my opinion. Let me pose you both a question. Have either one of you seen Mike take advantage of a girl by engaging in such sleazy activities in the past?"
"No..."
"No..."
Indeed - both sides of the mirror image shook their heads.
With that, Mark only pondered further, "My thoughts exactly..."
The video arcade – it'd been months since Mike last set foot in here. His memories of the place were still betrayed by how small it was inside. He couldn't explain for the life of him why he'd come here with spoken words – it was more like familiarity drew him in. The pinging of the slot machines and the chimes of the arcade cabinets, they brought his bleak thoughts to a place slightly warmer.
Blue hair – baggy sweaters, the joys of sharing pizza, and the warmth of many a shy embrace – even in his darkest hour he still remembered those photographic images. His feet dragged against the dirtied brown carpets, only stopping in front of a familiar game machine with the picture of a discoloured axe-wielding zombie on the side.
"House of Zombies…." Sliding a hand into his pants pocket, Mike fished out a couple of coins and focused on their rounded edges for a moment – smiling bleakly before slamming them both into the slot. In a violent shriek of inhuman terror, the machine buzzed to life with a glowing of lights. Unable to think of anything better to do, the singer picked up the plastic light-gun and sighed, "Here we go…"
*BangBangBang*
"Reload…."
*BangBangBang*
"Reload."
It was an empty cycle of pointless distraction – and it kept on going until Mikey finally stood staring at the bloodied 'Game Over' screen with a bitter neutrality to his expression. He cared not to move, nor cared to turn around and walk away. A single rogue thought slid into his head at that moment:
"I could never play as well as you could… no matter how much I tried. I kept on dying time and time again… but you never gave up on me, did you, Nikki?"
Belief – it was something he'd been robbed of, and something he was pretty certain he'd robbed the blue-haired lady of as well. Indeed, he'd been a bastard most supreme. "Is Karma finally paying me back for all the shit I've done?"
Defeat felt most bitter indeed – his thoughts were slumped in the darkness again. Sighing finally, Mikey slotted the little plastic weapon back on its rack and turned in the direction of the door. One-step, two steps, three, and then four. Before he realized it – he was back in the street with little to no direction.
However, something caused him to freeze up as cold as ice. Blue eyes, bespectacled eyes of deepest blue stirred into his shattered orbs of green in surprise. His focus panned down next, taking in every contour of detail in the ensemble that stood before him. A blue shirt and a slim fitting black jacket alongside some thigh-length shorts, and of course, those trademark reddish-white sneakers she always wore.
"Mike…." A girl from the not so distant past – but one he hadn't seen in long enough for it to feel like eternity. She moved closer and closer with every passing second, but it only caused Winters to edge away from her.
"Stay away from me, Nikki…."
The gamer of blue paused just a short distance away – a hand resting upon her chest as her lips curved into a murky frown, "What's wrong with you?" she asked her question as characteristically quiet as usual, "….Damn… you're looking so washed out…."
"Nothing that concerns you…." Swinging back – Mike threw up his shoulders in stiff defence and walked away – there was no need to waste words, not when everything he held dear was in ruins like this.
Shoes echoed from behind – their persistence only serving to annoy him further, 'Stop it, Nikki…. I don't need this. I don't want you to follow me.'
Indeed – he swung around with the intention of verbally barraging his female follower – but the sight of her solid, fearless blue gazed caused him to hold in place. For a reason he couldn't explain she seemed so different… it was almost as if she had this invisible blue glow about her.
"What happened? No need to be an asshole about it," Anne-Marie continued with folded arms, "I can see it… in your eyes, Mike Winters…. You're hurting."
So, he was that easy to see through? Sighing, Mikey hung his head low in an attempt to hide his face, "….It doesn't matter… all you need to know is… you might not see me around town much anymore."
Nikki gasped – and loudly enough for Mike to hear as well, "….If you stop being such a jerk about it I'll happily make you a coffee and we can go talk…."
"No thanks," Right now wasn't the time for it, "….Was nice to see you, all the same."
Those words left a stunned Nikki standing outside the flashing lights of the arcade – and just like that, the sharply dressed singer was almost out of sight. "…I'm always looking out for you," she called out before he rounded the corner, "...even if you do act like a douche…."
Mike stopped his course and turned back - slowly reaching down for his phone. To his surprise, Nikki's heart meter on the screen was still at a surprising two red hearts, "How do you always show up when I'm feeling at my lowest? It's almost like-"
The young lady was coming closer - the blond singer unable to uproot and make much needed space. Slender arms coiled around his chest - a head of soft blue hair resting against him, "...You're mean... and you're a liar, too... but I'm still happy you called me your friend."
"So..." Nikki released her hold, "Tell me what's happened to you..."
Her eyes disarmed him - those two blue oceans hitting him with the force of a tidal wave. "My band - It's in fucking freefall right now... and I don't know what I can do to stop it..."
Nodding softly, the girl grabbed his hand and marched on ahead - only stopping for a moment to adjust her glasses, "...Come on... lets go across to Nutmeg. I'll get you that drink I mentioned... so long as you stop acting all cold... I know you're better than that shit."
"Thank you," Mikey smiled weakly - staying beside Anne-Marie. Perhaps it was okay for him to turn back to the past - just this once. "I'd like that..."
'How can she still want to see me after all of this? I don't understand...'
Regardless - he kept a gentle grip on the girl gamer's hand - fearful embers fizzled in his mind with every step.
'I didn't do anything wrong, I know it. Music... it's been a huge part of my entire life - I'd never do anything to put that in danger... So then... how has everything spun so far out of control?'
To be continued….
So – how was the chapter? Please feel free to leave me some feedback if you want – I always value the opinions of my readers. I also want to give some extra thanks to my dedicated returning readers; it makes me happy to see people enjoying the projects I work on. As always, please keep on supporting the official releases of Huniepop and Huniecam studio! I'll see you in the next 'Problems' chapter!