Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, Disney, Square Enix, Final Fantasy, or McDonalds.
Friday night.
The night everything will change.
There are only two paths ahead of me: One where I keep the job and the other where I lose it.
Who knows what'll happen when a path is chosen?
I look at my watch. 6:55. It's been one minute since the last time I checked. I wait a while until I check again, hoping it's finally reached seven so I can leave. 6:56.
"UGHHH!" I groan before I can keep it in. It just so happens that I do it as DiZ passes by.
"Is everything alright, Roxas?" He asks.
"O-oh, it's nothing, sir. Sorry." I reply and begin to take the order of an elderly couple.
"Are you sure?" DiZ pushes. "If you're having hard times, I think I can help."
Taking the couple's money, I sigh. I hadn't gotten the chance to tell DiZ that I had dropped out of high school and could now work longer hours. Instead, all week, I had gone easy on him. I'd ask if I could work an extra hour and when he refused, I accepted it and just left. The first night, he looked baffled and as I was unlocking my car door, I heard him yell to the customers, "Ice cream is on me!"
I've just been so (I hate to admit it) nervous. What could happen tonight? The thought had been bothering me all week, and it still was.
"If you need to work another hour, I suppose it'd be fine." DiZ finally mumbles.
I look at him in shock. His shoulders are slumped, he has worry in his eyes, and he's nervously rubbing the back of his neck. I realize that I've made him feel bad for all of those times he rejected my pleas. He must now realize that I seriously need the money. What could he have possibly have thought I needed it for before? Drugs, booze, girls? All that stuff normal teenagers crave?
At this moment, I notice that I must choose my words carefully or else I could scar the man, make him think that everything was his fault. That's exactly what I did. I scarred him, bad. But on accident...sort of.
What I had in mind to say was:
"Sorry, sir, I can't. I'm going to a party tonight."
And he would reply:
"Oh, it's good that you've found something to do besides work."
But that didn't happen at all.
I frowned and said,
"It's a little too late for that. Sorry, sir, but I have something I need to do. I've found another way to make money. I won't be bothering you anymore." I then check my watch again. 7:01 "Goodbye, DiZ."
I take off my hat and begin to head to the back to get my stuff. DiZ grabs my arm before I can leave and whispers,
"Be careful, Roxas."
Inside, I was surprised. That's what Yuffie had said a few days ago back in the hospital. Outside, I took my arm away, not too softly but not too hard. My eyes must've screamed betrayal because he looked devastated, like he ruined a child's life and there was no way to redeem it. The thing is, it looked like it had happened before. He sighed, and I left without a drop of guilt.
(...)
Eight o'clock.
The time everything will begin.
There are only two paths ahead of me: One where I keep the job and the other where I lose it.
Who knows what'll happen when a path is chosen?
I pull into the driveway of Axel Flynn's mansion for the second time this week. Just as I park my car and head for the door, Larxene steps out. I greet her and ask where I should go. She points to the front door where, under the porch light's luminance, I see someone, gender undeterminable, smoking a cigarette. "Ask him. He'll help." And with that, she's gone.
I head to the man and stop in front of him. I watch him as he taps the stick of tobacco, dropping little bits of ash onto the floor. He looks a few years older than me. He has grayish-blue hair and long bangs covering the right eye of his pair of cobalt blue ones. He's quite short, only a few inches taller than me, and he has a nice, lean, somewhat feminine body. He could easily be mistaken as a girl.
"Hello, my name is Roxas. I'm the new butler." I greet.
He nods, "They told me about you. I'm Zexion, the first butler. I've taught everyone how to do this job. I'm guessing that you want me to teach you too. Am I correct?"
"Yes, please."
He drops his cigarette, stomps it out, and gestures for me to follow him. He leads me into the house and stops before the grand stairs. He points to the waiting room, mumbling "Waiting room," as he does so, then points to the room opposite. "Room with a fireplace." He then gestures up the stairs. "Big door leads to the ball room, after that is the dining hall, and in the dining hall is a door that leads to the kitchen. Flight of stairs to the left is where the library, exercising rooms, arcades, and other places you're not allowed are. Don't go up the left flight of stairs. There's nothing there that concerns you. The right flight takes you to the bedrooms, where you never go. There's also the dressing room, which is the first door on the left. Remember what's forbidden. Everything but the dressing room and the rooms behind the big door."
He signals for me to follow him. We head up the right flight of stairs, into a long hallway with tall, glass windows lining the right side. The left wall, however, has multiple doors, all the way down to the end where a large door is, right down the hall from where I stand. Zexion takes me into the first room on the left.
Inside is a medium-sized room with a quite large vanity at one wall, and a huge mirror looming over it with numerous lights. At one wall, there's a clothing rack with five hangers, some holding outfits and others empty. A few couches, chairs, and throw pillows are also in the room, along with two or three people whom I guess are employees.
"This is where you change into the uniform of the day. Find the one with your name on the tag attached in one of the sleeves. Don't pull the tag off; just conceal it. Don't try to pull any tricks, either, like switching tags. Those kinds of jokes get you fired. Even though we're hosting a party, there's no fooling around…unless you're paid to." He puts his left arm across his chest, and rests his right elbow on it, his hand up in the air. "Mr. Flynn has told you about what the guests might do, correct?"
"Sort of." I answer.
"Well, depending on the guests, you might be reserved or not. If one of them develops a liking, he can reserve you, so you only let him touch you. If you're not reserved, it's a free for all. Reserved butlers are treated differently, by everyone. The pros and cons are still being considered…"
"Are you reserved?"
He shows a hint of hesitation, but answers, "Yes,"
His eyes wander to something in the room. They lead me to a blond boy in the corner, buttoning up his shirt. He has hair that resembles a cross between a mullet and a Mohawk, a girl-like figure, and, once he looks over at us, I notice he has sea green eyes. He smiles at Zexion, making the bluenette turn his head away, and continues getting dressed.
I look up at my mentor who's probably a few inches taller, and clear my throat, making him snap out of his trance. He looks down at me, and carries on, as if nothing happened, "So, just get dressed, have Xion put a little makeup on you and fix your hair, then head down to the kitchen to meet me. That's Xion." He points to a person, another whose gender is undeterminable, in front of the makeup mirror, wishes me luck, and heads to the blond boy in the corner.
Once I slip on a stereotypical black tuxedo with a bowtie (the kind you always see the butlers in movies wearing), Zexion and the blond man have already finished and left. I step up to the only person left who's smiling at me and waving me over. This person gestures me to sit down, and says,
"Hi, I'm Xion. I'm a butler, but from eight to eight thirty, you'll find me here fixing people up. Make sure to be here before eight thirty, or else I'll be gone. Then who will do your make up?"
I guess that this person's a boy. Mr. Flynn wouldn't let this person work as a butler if they weren't a boy, right? He—she?—makes swift, graceful movements, is quite good at makeup (but anyone can do that), and…well, his smile. A regular man wouldn't have a smile that looks so peaceful and pure. You never know, really. Sora has a smile like that at times, but it always felt like he'd grow out of it.
Nothing can surprise me now. I've imagined multiple scenarios of what could happen tonight.
"My name is Roxas," I state.
"Roxas…" He repeats in a whisper. He then says, in a normal voice, "I'll just powder up your face a little so it won't shine from the bright lights and put some mascara to make your eyes look bigger. Not really anything should be done to your hair though. It's fine."
"Okay," I nod, and let this man lift my chin with slender fingers. Sky blue eyes meet my cerulean ones. They widen as Xion leans closer and begins to apply what I assume is powder. I watch as he does so with a serious expression, completely absorbed into making my face seemingly perfect. Every once in a while, a smile slips onto his face, but it quickly disappears.
I wonder if I'll end up like him: expressionless, except for that fleeting smile that wishes to stay, but can't. Thoughts of what makes that smile disappear fill my mind, but I can't seem to grasp a logical answer.
(...)
The connection of lips.
The gesture that will make my view on everything change.
There are only two paths ahead of me: One where I keep the job and the other where I lose it.
Who knows what'll happen when a path is chosen?
After meeting Zexion in the kitchen and listening to him explain the simple ways of circling around, offering snacks only at polite times when no one is speaking, and recommending I just watch the other butlers set up dinner so I know for next time, I grabbed a tray and headed out to the ball room where a considerable amount of people crowded. A peek at my watch said that it was a quarter after nine. Trying to be as swift and graceful as a certain raven-haired butler, I weave through the crowds, occasionally stopping next to guests and offering the little snacks on my platter. Some of the treats, I had no idea what was, but when asked my opinion on them, I answered that they were delicious.
At one point, a man stops me and begins to start conversation. He's a tan man, taller than me by a foot, maybe more. He looks down at me with gold amber eyes and a curious smirk. He places a hand on my shoulder, and leans down a little closer to talk into my ear. His excuse is that it's too loud. He then pulls me to the couches so we can relax.
What do I do…? Should I push him away? No, that might send the wrong message. Zexion said that someone might gain a liking to me. Is this him? He's sort of creepy…
I lean back a little, and look up into those sharp eyes again, my own filled with fear and regret.
What have I gotten myself into? I can get raped. How can I trust a room full of gay guys? I'm not even gay! This is so wrong! What do I do? He's…He's…
The man, who introduces himself as Xemnas, places a rough hand on mine, twists it onto the back, and pulls out the tag concealed within my jacket. He smirks at the lack of a name under my own, and moves his hand to my chin, lifting it up slightly. He begins to lean in. My eyes widen, tears threatening to spill from the corners. My breath hitches, and I want to pull away but his grip is tight.
Thoughts of Sora and Mom fill my mind. I've probably failed them. Getting a job as a butler for a gay party…? This isn't some fantasy erotica anime. This is my life. In my life are two people more important to me than anything one can think up…Sora, Mom,…I'm sorry. I've reached a dead end. This guy will probably make me his bitch and make our lives miserable.
He's going to kiss me! A thought screams in my mind.
Then lips connect, and my eyes shut tight, accidentally letting a single tear escape.
In the background, there are noises, and as quickly as Xemnas' lips touched mine, they're off. What happens next goes by so quickly. Before I know it, I'm on the front steps of Axel Flynn's house with Zexion by my side.
He had swooped in and gracefully saved me. Innocently, he pulled me away from Xemnas, lifting me off of the couch. He flashed a smirk, and had said,
"I'm sorry, Sir, but the rookie is taken. Forgetful Roxas here didn't write the name on his tag. Sorry for the confusion."
Xemnas furrows his eyebrows in anger at first, then regains his composure. "Very well, have you by any chance seen Saix?"
Zexion nods, and replies, "He's around here somewhere,…probably looking for you." He places a hand on my shoulder, and bows slightly, "Now, if you'll excuse us, we have matters to attend to."
Not even waiting for an answer, Zexion pulled me through the crowd, down stairs, and out the front door. I only made it a few steps before collapsing onto a step. I propped my legs on the step below me, and rested my elbows on my knees. Thus, I am here.
"What the hell?" I mutter with Zexion standing beside me, listening to the music softly emitting from inside.
"...Are you trying to be a Lolita butler?" Zexion asks, pulling out a carton of cigarettes and a lighter.
"What? No…I mean, what's a Lolita?" I reply with a question.
"Someone that looks and acts like a child."
"I am not a child! I support my family with two jobs!" I stand and glare at him, a feat made possible since we're about the same height. "A child doesn't do that! A child…A child has more sense than me! A child wouldn't have made the mistake of becoming a gay butler!"
Zexion keeps a stern face until finally nodding and pulling out a cigarette. Surprisingly, I let him slip it between my still freshly kissed lips and light it. He takes a puff from his own, and raises an eyebrow at me. I shake my head, and pull the cigarette out, "I don't smoke."
Zexion shrugs, "Then start…It'll take the stress away. You seem to have a lot."
I stare at the stick of tobacco between my fingers, the edge burning away and turning into ash. School had always taught me that smoking wasn't right. It gave you lung cancer, took away your limbs, and gave you weird, white gunk in your esophagus. They taught me to say no to both strangers and friends who offered. But they never talked about the benefits of smoking. They never talked about how it'd slip in from the cigarette, around my mouth, and swiftly back out, creating a ritual that felt so smooth, soft, and relaxing.
Of course, the first few inhales were hard. I had a fit of coughing and a rough pat on the back from Zexion until it turned into the ritual I described. Once that began, I felt the pounding in my head settle down and my muscles relax.
"Thanks," I mutter.
"Your welcome," He replies.
A few seconds of silence pass. I close my eyes and focus on regaining my composure to return to the party. For a moment, I feel like someone's starring at me. I look to Zexion out of the corner of my eye and see him doing the same. He keeps the eye contact for a while until finally looking ahead again and pulling out his cigarette. He flicks it onto the stairs, steps on it to extinguish the flame, and kicks it somewhere. He then turns toward me, and say,
"Actually…I should be saying that I'm sorry."
"Hm? Why?"
"This job…It's not really worth it if you're just a butler. You make the real munny when you get reserved. You don't seem like someone who'd like that."
"I don't mind, really."
He nods, crosses his arms in front of his chest, and puts a hand up to his mouth in thought. "You said you're not trying to be a Lolita, correct? So that means…when you cried, that wasn't an act."
My eyebrows twitch. "U-uh…"
He raises an eyebrow and smirks. "Much worse is to come. Leave now if you can't handle a simple kiss." He turns and begins to head inside.
I lower my head and clench my fists. "No…"
Zexion stops, and looks over his shoulder at me.
"Nothing worse can come to me...I'm at the bottom right now. My mother is ill from overworking, my brother wants to quit school to work…I can't let my loved ones get hurt just so they can pick up the slack." I lift my head, look straight into his cobalt blue eyes, and say, "It doesn't matter how I do it! I want to bring us back to the top! And if that means going through this charade, then I'll do it! My sanity is nothing to me." I hurry up the steps, and reach for the door to go inside.
Zexion pulls it open for me, and says,
"Be careful, Roxas."