I'm back with the second chapter! Thanks to my anon reviewer Willow, reviews make my day :D

I make no apologies for Marik's terrible language. Enjoy, my dear reader.

Chapter 2- Drawing Cartoons

Marik woke to the shrill sound of his alarm clock and a pounding headache. Sitting up blearily and shutting off the clock he realised he had somehow made it back to his own room before apparently falling asleep fully clothed. The full force of the night before hit him like a train. He suddenly remembered flashes of the party: dancing on the kitchen table; making countless innuendos and… Anzu. Oh Ra, had he really made out with Anzu? He flopped back down onto the pillow, feeling rather sickened. The hangover wasn't helping either.

Never again, he vowed, was he drinking that much alcohol again. It made you do horrendous things you wouldn't even dream of doing if you were sober. He wasn't sure how long he lay there cringing until he heard a timid knock at the door.

"Mm?" he groaned weakly, and Ryou pushed the door open apprehensively, holding a glass of water and some ibuprofen.

"Morning," he said quietly, as though he knew any loud noises would only serve to make the Egyptian's headache worse. "How bad is it?"

Marik groaned again in answer. "Did I really kiss Anzu?"

Ryou giggled slightly as he set the water down on the bedside table and handed Marik the tablets. "Only a little bit," he said consolingly. "And you weren't the only one she kissed, if that makes it any better."

"I'll get back to you on that one," Marik replied as he sat up and swallowed the tablets. "Has everyone gone?"

Ryou nodded as he sat lightly on the edge of the bed. "Only Yugi was still here when I woke up, the rest had already left for one of their optional lectures apparently. You're safe from Anzu for now," he joked.

The tanned teen smiled a little at that before yawning. "What time is it, Ry?"

The white haired boy checked his watch before replying, "Half past ten. How come, have you got somewhere to be?"

Marik shook his head. What a silly question- he never had anywhere to be these days. Ryou acknowledged the shake before getting off the bed again.

"Well I'll leave you alone then, Marik. You may find it better to sleep the hangover off."

Marik nodded again and Ryou turned to leave. He made it about halfway across the room before-

"Shit!"

Ryou turned, startled. "What is it?"

"Shit, shit, shit, I have an interview at quarter to eleven today! Oh bugger, why did I not remember last night, shit, I'm going to be late and I look like crap!" Marik shot off the bed as fast as possible and sprinted towards the bathroom, leaving a shell-shocked Ryou in his wake.

The whitette heard the taps go on and Marik cursing at the state of his hair. He tentatively edged towards the door before asking, "Marik, is it far? I can call a taxi if you like?"

Said Egyptian yelled out frantically in the affirmative before going back to cursing his hair in three different languages. Ryou headed off towards the phone before the blonde could turn the curses on him.

Less than three minutes later Marik flung open the bathroom door in nothing but a towel and pelted over to his room, slamming the door. 'Clothes, clothes', he thought frantically. 'What does one wear to an interview? Bollocks if I know. Where the hell is my hairbrush?'

Ryou, who was stood outside his room, listened to the various bangs and curses as Marik became more and more agitated. Looking at his watch, Ryou saw that Marik had exactly five minutes to get to his destination. Judging by the colourful swearing he was directing at his trousers, it didn't look like he was going to make it.

There was a honk of a car horn outside, and Ryou shouted, "Marik, taxi's here!"

There was a single curse word uttered from behind the door before Marik exited in what could only be described as an explosion of hair products, rejected clothes and important looking papers.

"Is that your portfolio?" Ryou asked tentatively as he caught up with Marik, who was now doing up his boots as fast as possible.

"Most of it. Maybe. I think," the Egyptian replied. "Bugger me sideways if I know."

Ryou didn't have the heart to chastise him for his language. He watched as his house mate finished tying his boots before silently handing him his wallet and phone.

"Good luck, I should be here when you get back," Ryou called as the door slammed.

Marik sprinted down the steps towards the vehicle that was idling by the pavement, opened the door, dived in and slammed it behind him in a move that would have impressed James Bond.

"Millennium Enterprises please!" he gasped out. "As fast as possible, I'm late for an interview."

His driver turned to look at him and Marik's eyes widened.

"Oh, fuck."

Bakura gave him a little smirk. "Hello again, kid. Are you in a better mood today or are you going to be as rude as you were last night?"

Marik glared. "Actually I'm extremely hung-over, late and really need you to step on it, so please just do your job before I actually murder you!"

Bakura's smirk widened before he turned to face the road and pulled away from the kerb. A few moments later he said, "I'd like to see you try, actually."

"Hm?" Marik, who had been trying to collect his thoughts for the upcoming interview, had already forgotten the exchange in favour of recalling his artistic knowledge.

"I'd like to see you try and murder me. It would amuse me greatly."

"I'm sorry?" Marik said incredulously. Was this man mocking him again? "I don't think you should be amused by something like that. Are you some kind of masochist?"

This earned a full on laugh from Bakura. "Now that's not something you ask someone you don't even deem fit to tell your name."

Marik groaned before giving up and resting his head on the window. They were quite close to his destination now, as it wasn't very far into the city and Bakura was going pretty fast, although one glace at his watch told him he was going to be late anyway, for it was already quarter to eleven and they still had a few turns to make.

"What's the interview for anyway?" Bakura asked as the tall building of Millennium Enterprises came into view.

"Game art designer," Marik replied shortly, trying to collect his scattered thoughts once again. "Something to do with one of the manager's hobbies."

"Fair enough," came the reply as they finally pulled up outside the double doors for the building.

"Thanks," Marik said as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket."

"I can wait, if you like," Bakura said suddenly, turning in his seat to fix Marik with those piercing eyes. "You can pay me when you get out. Saves time now."

The Egyptian blinked. What was the white haired man implying? Did he want to laugh in Marik's face when he didn't get the job? Or was he actually being kind to him? Marik shook his head to push those thoughts out of his mind.

"It's ok," he said hurriedly, before throwing some money at Bakura and getting out of the taxi. "Thanks anyway!" he shouted over his shoulder as he ran up the steps and disappeared.

Bakura was left looking after him with mixed thoughts. Had he really just been nice to the boy? He was never nice, it defied his nature and everything he had ever known. But still, he had meant it when he told the boy he was interesting. There was something about him and the taxi driver just couldn't put his finger on it.

With a heavy sigh he eased the vehicle forwards and headed off to pick up his next client. He couldn't wait to get off his shift later so he could go to the bar and forget about his troubles like he did every night.

Meanwhile Marik had finally made it to the foyer, where a glance at the clock told him he should be in his interview. He jogged up to the reception desk and said to the girl there, "Marik Ishtar, I have an interview with Mr Pegasus about the game design job?"

The girl, whose name badge read 'Shizuka,' looked him up and down before saying, "You should have been here waiting quarter of an hour ago. Mr Pegasus has already been down to get you."

"I know, I know, I'm so sorry, the taxi was held up," Marik said quickly, even though Bakura had actually got him here in record time.

Shizuka tapped on the keyboard in front of her before saying, "Well you can go up to the boss's office and see if he'll still interview you. It's the top floor, room E. You can't miss it."

"Thank you so much!" Marik called as he ran towards the stairs at the other end of the foyer. Shizuka shook her head. The poor boy seemed more disorganised than her brother, and that was saying something.

Marik took the stairs two at a time, clutching his papers and hoping he wasn't doing this for nothing. He had no idea what he was going to say in the interview, heck he didn't even know what kind of questions he was going to be asked. Maybe if a certain individual hadn't insisted on distracting him then he would have stood a better chance. Next time he saw Bakura he would have to tell him exactly what he thought of him.

Wait, next time? There wasn't going to be a next time! Marik finally reached the top of the stairs and took a moment to get his breath back, pushing all thoughts of Bakura out of his head. Shizuka was right, it was hard to miss room E, as it was at the end of the corridor and the double doors were covered in what appeared to be fantasy cartoon characters, though none that he recognised.

Taking a firmer hold on his papers, Marik headed towards the doors and knocked. A second later they opened, allowing him a view of a rather luxurious penthouse suite, complete with flat screen TV and an entire wall of windows, offering a rather spectacular view of the city. He didn't have time to admire the décor for more than a few seconds though, as a tall man with long silvery hair entered the room from a side door wearing a red suit and an annoyed expression.

"You must be Marik, yes?" he questioned as he made his way over to said Egyptian.

Marik nodded hesitantly. He didn't quite like the look of irritation on the man's face.

"I'm Maximillion Pegasus, the owner of Milennium Enterprises and the person who will be interviewing you. Even though I shouldn't be doing so as you're already late." Pegasus reached Marik and took the papers out of his hand. "Follow me," he said, heading towards one of the many doors in the penthouse.

Marik did as he was told. This man was clearly in a bad mood and he didn't want to make it worse than it already was. They entered a smaller room with a desk and two chairs. Pegasus took one and motioned Marik to sit in the other.

"Now as I'm sure you're aware this job requires you to create designs of fantasy creatures that will eventually be used in a new game the Enterprise is creating. It should be ready for release within the year so you will be working on a contract. You will have to produce many different designs based on the abilities of each creature and each one must be approved by me. So, what do you think you can bring to the table, Marik?"

Pegasus rested his forearms on the table and looked at Marik closely. The teen simply looked back. Honestly, he had no idea with Pegasus had just said. Of course he'd read through the job summary when he'd applied, but that had been a month ago and the events of last night had wiped most things from his brain. He had no idea how to respond! What could he bring to the table? He decided to stall.

"May I just ask, what is the name of the game, please?" he asked as meekly as possible.

Pegasus raised an eyebrow. "Duel Monsters. It's tipped to be quite huge. That is if you can deliver. Do you like drawing cartoons, Marik?"

Marik looked down at his lap. Truth be told he had never tried his hand at cartoons. Sure, he had drawn fantasy creatures, but they were more real-life style than the type Pegasus seemed to be looking for. He had been expecting his interviewer to ask for real-life works, not designs for a children's card game.

Realising Pegasus was still waiting for an answer, Marik hurriedly said, "I've never really tried, sir. I tend to do more real-life drawings, but I'm sure I could learn."

He knew instantly it was a mistake. Pegasus's second eyebrow went up to join his first and he tilted his head slightly.

"The why, Marik, would you apply for a job that specifically required a less realistic style if you are unable to deliver?"

Marik bowed his head, so he only heard Pegasus sigh.

"Look," the man said. "Clearly we're getting nowhere here. Luckily for you, I recently made a business partnership with someone who is actually looking for someone of your… Talents. I shall give her your details and your current works," here he indicated the mess of papers that was Marik's portfolio, "and see if she wishes to hire you. I hope for your sake that she takes a liking to your style. It is very good, if not my sort of thing."

Marik raised his head to see if Pegasus was joking. On realising he wasn't, he gave a small smile. "Thank you, sir," he said, before Pegasus stood.

"I hope you realise you've wasted my valuable time here, Marik. I don't appreciate that, and I can tell a hangover when I see one. You're lucky I want to impress my new business partner or you'd be out faster than you can say 'Winged Dragon of Ra."

"Sir?"

"Oh, you wouldn't understand," the silver haired man said as he swept dramatically out of the small office. "It's only going to be the strongest card in the game once I find a designer. Anyway, off you go."

With that he opened the door any ushered Marik into the hall before closing the door rather abruptly behind him. The teen had to take a moment to recover. What had just happened? It had all been over so fast…

All he knew was that Pegasus had taken his portfolio and would be informing someone else of his existence. That could only be good right? He shook his head slowly as he made his way down the corridor towards the stairs. Well, he had blown his interview through a mixture of alcohol, scattered thoughts and bad luck with taxi drivers but at least he wouldn't be drawing cartoons for a year.

Marik just wanted to go home and crawl back into bed where he could forget about the whole experience. With this in mind he headed quickly down the stairs, (though he had to slow down when the movement started hurting his head) and back into the lobby.

Shizuka looked up as he passed before saying, "Mr Sennen, you may go up now."

The only other person in the lobby, whom Marik hadn't even noticed, nodded and stood. Marik did a double take: he looked almost exactly like Yugi! Granted he was slightly taller and broader but the resemblance was striking. He was obviously here for an interview too. Well, at least he looked prepared with a professional-looking A3 portfolio and a smart suit. He was bound to get the job.

Marik shrugged it off and instead headed out into the weak sunshine. He was almost disappointed to see that there wasn't a taxi waiting for him outside before he realised what he had just thought. No, he did not want to see Bakura again, no matter how nice his eyes were! He wasn't even gay!

Well, there was the problem, Marik thought as he set off walking through the busy streets to his apartment. He didn't actually know whether he was gay or not. His life had been rather sheltered back in Egypt and he had never been given any advice on the subject, so he just assumed he would know when he was attracted to someone.

He knew he wasn't attracted to Anzu, he thought as he crossed the road. But did that mean he wasn't attracted to any girls at all? The whole subject was rather confusing on the whole, and he didn't feel like thinking into it too much right now, what with Bakura and all. Wait, what? Marik physically stopped on the pavement at this.

No, he refused to think of Bakura like that. He had only met the guy twice and he'd annoyed the crap out of him both times. Hell, he'd even contributed to Marik failing his interview! There was no way he found Bakura attractive. The man was an annoying, derogatory arsehole. With nice eyes. But his eyes were beside the point!

Marik continued his inner monologue all the way back to the apartment; in fact he was still in full flow when he unlocked the door around midday. Therefore he was totally unprepared for Ryou emerging from the kitchen with a wide-eyed expression saying, "Well, how did it go?"

"Fucking terrible," Marik replied instantly, using the tone he was currently thinking in without meaning to. He missed Ryou's eyes filling with tears as he pulled his boots off and stalked past him to his room, slamming the door and leaving his bewildered housemate to make of it what he would.

Letting out a frustrated growl that was mostly directed at himself, Marik pulled his shirt and trousers off before crawling into bed just in his boxers and closing his eyes. As he calmed down a little he realised he had probably just upset Ryou greatly: he would have to apologise late. But first he required sleep. Sleep and the ability to block russet eyes from his mind.