Immediately after that fiasco, Clover set out in search of Crimson. She couldn't let her get away with this blatant spit in the face of royalty – however long it took, she was going to find her, and bring her back so she could plead for forgiveness. Julien had disagreed, arguing that no apology was better than a forced one, but she wouldn't hear otherwise. Unbeknownst to him, though, defending his honor was just a relatively small piece of the equation, as something much more urgent was driving Clover on.
Pam had once again invaded her every thought. The threats that abhorrent creature had made to her sister she would not take lightly, nor delete from her mind. And now Crimson was who knew where, doing who knew what, with no one to protect her.
She could picture it already: Crimson being ambushed when she'd least expect it and viciously attacked, before being left for dead in the dark depths of the jungle – a terrifying notion in and of itself... and yet, the worst part of it was that Clover couldn't even chalk this one up to baseless paranoia. The likelihood of such a thing actually happening was high enough that every minute the bodyguard spent scouring this beach was a minute she spent dreading it would be the last. Pam could hide anywhere, strike at any time without warning, and then disappear like a flash of lightning – that was why Clover urged herself to track down her missing twin as quickly as possible.
Luckily, it wasn't hard to get directions; Crimson's natural magnetism with the male population meant many were happy to tell her all about where she'd been, where she was headed, or where she might've gone. With their help (and a touch of sisterly intuition), Clover found her easily – it turned out she had locked herself away in a small cove around a mile from the Bootlegger's Bay, accessed through a narrow sea arch in the cliffs. Owing to its rather secluded location, the cove was completely devoid of lemurs, save for her: she was huddled upon a wide, flat outcrop overlooking the ocean, her knees up to her chest and her arms wrapped tightly around them, chin nestled on top. She was staring off into the deep blue nothingness, frowning in anger – although there was a not-so subtle hint of sadness in her eyes as well. Contrary to what her sister would've been led to believe, no men were with her. No sign of Pam either.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Clover made her move. Resuming a stern façade, she made herself known by the heaviness of her footsteps as she came in beside the rock.
"...What d'you want?" the red sibling hissed.
Clover squinted up; while it wasn't very noticeable from this angle, she was able to discern what appeared to be a wet glistening trail running down Crimson's cheek.
"We need to talk," she answered, firmly. She couldn't let pity overshadow duty – not even when she was treated to the sobering sight of her sister sniffling, then drying her face with her fist.
"'Bout what?"
"You know what! Why'd you do that, huh? We were supposed to give this another try, not get into more pointless fights! How could ya mess that up?! Now you'll be lucky to continue working with us – that is, if King Julien doesn't decide to cut you loose after your lil' stunt!"
"I couldn't stand being 'round him anymore. I just couldn't help myself," replied Crimson – even though sorrow and anger enveloped her voice, she still seemed to have no regrets whatsoever about throwing that drink at her ex-fiancé. In fact, she sounded as though she'd dearly enjoyed it. Clover opened her mouth to speak, when just then, her twin finally met eyes with her. "Sis, d'you have any idea how hard it is for me to look at that man time after time, and realize he couldn't care less 'bout what he did to me... almost like I never meant anything to him? It's like he expects me to turn the other cheek and pretend it never happened – well, I can't, and I won't."
Clover rolled her eyes. Of all the points she could've raised, it had to be this one...! "Do we really have to do this now? What's gotten into ya lately – you were handling him fine till Pam-
"Pam can drop dead for all I care! Don't use her as an excuse!"
"I don't!" Clover stepped closer to the rock – the other sibling wrinkled her nose and shied away, as though warning her to keep her distance. "Listen, I know how much you loved King Julien, and I agree what he did to ya was wrong and that it should've never come to that – but this is neither the time nor the place to start losing your head over it! I need you to stay focused! This stuff you're doing with the insults, the permanent bad mood, the loudmouthing – and now this, ridiculing us all in front of everybody – ain't of help to anyone! It's only stressing you out, it's stressing the guys out, and most importantly, it's stressing me out, and I'm already dealing with so much stress that at this rate my fur's gonna start falling off – so for the love of Frank, pull yourself together! We've got much bigger things to worry 'bout right now than your lovesick sob stories, okay?!"
"Sob stories?" Crimson shot her an enraged glare. "Is that what this is to you?"
Clover shut her mouth. She should've worded it differently – her lack of patience was to blame.
Suddenly, Crimson chuckled to herself. "Of course it is; what else is new? You've always envied the fact that I had found the love of my life; that's why you were constantly trying to break us up and accusing me of plotting against him! Hell, even that wasn't enough for ya – how could I forget the way you were basically jumping for joy when that gutless son of a bitch ditched me?!"
"Watch your language, sis – he's still your king and you'll respect him as such," the bodyguard growled.
"The only respect that punk deserves is my foot up his ringtailed arse! But yeah, you keep sucking up to him; that's all ya ever do!" Crimson shouted, growing more irritable with each passing second; before her sister could get another word in, she gathered a cluster of pebbles in her left hand, which she then proceeded to hurl contemptly at Clover, making her back off several steps. "Well, why don't ya go ahead and marry him yourself if ya like him so much?! You're practically made for each other already; might as well get it over with!"
Following this display of jilted rage, she turned her back on Clover in what was a clear-cut sign that she wanted her to go away. However, she didn't do it – and she wasn't going to until Crimson got over her stubbornness, and agreed to get down from that rock so they could work this out like intelligent, level-headed adults. No sister of hers should have to stay alone on this cove, stewing in a mire of harmful thoughts while everyone else got to be together; that would only lead her down the same self-destructive path Clover herself had recently surfaced from, and it obviously was within everyone's best interests that such a thing never happened again.
"...Look, let's just start from scratch, okay? There might still be a way to fix this," she proposed, raising a smile as she began a new, slower approach. "Come back to the Bay with me and apologize to King Julien; I can vouch for you if need be! Once he's forgiven ya, I'll make sure he stays outta your way so you won't have to talk to each other! It'll be like – like he's not even there! I mean, the two of us are here now and that's all that matters, right?"
Having hauled herself to the outcrop's crest, she leaned over, reaching out to touch Crimson's shoulder. "Please..."
But then, as soon as her fingertips touched the red fur, Crimson whirled around. "I don't want your pity! Leave me alone!" she shrieked as she reared back and pushed Clover off the rock with all her might. The guardian yipped out in surprise as she crashed down amid a splash of sand – the momentum provided by her upturned legs sent her on a chaotic backward roll, and she ended belly-down, limbs splayed, motionless for a minute. Slowly, she came to her senses, floundering on her hands and knees as she glared with unbelieving eyes at the lemur above, who glared back in stunned reciprocation. Even though the drop had been quite short, and the impact had been cushioned by the sand so it hadn't hurt a lot, Clover found herself unable to fully stand; the shock had taken her by storm.
It was easy to see Crimson had acted unconsciously in the spur of the moment, and hadn't actually meant to attack her... but the damage was done. Clover knew better than anyone how easily it was to fall prey to one's emotions – after all, their explosive temper was one of the very few things they did have in common – so under other circumstances, she could've understood it, or even perhaps forgiven her for it. However, what truly disgusted the good twin wasn't the fall itself – it was the fact that Crimson wasn't doing anything to show her it had been an accident. She was just sitting there like some wide-eyed, tongue-tied mute when she should've been rushing to help, or apologizing, or at the very least asking her if she was alright. To Clover, that made all the difference, for it only cemented what she'd always suspected: that Crimson simply didn't have it in her. Not an ounce of care or love. She could've broken her neck and it probably would've gotten the same reaction.
In the end she had to pull herself up, since clearly, no one else would. She didn't even look at Crimson – with hurt-filled eyes, she swiftly turned the way she had come, before speeding out of the area, leaving a trail of sunken footprints in the sand.
Crimson did nothing to stop her. She knew she should have, but her throat had refused to verbalize her thoughts all along, as though she'd been afraid to for one reason or another. Ironically, now that she'd been granted her wish, all she wanted was for her sister to return so they could talk – but she never did.
This was exactly what Julien had told her not to do! If he were to take action because of it...
When Clover returned to the bar, every eye in the room was trained on her. Her friends especially were alarmed to see her back so soon – though they were not as alarmed as they were when they saw the choleric look she bore on her ragged features. Immediately, they all knew something had gone awry between her and Crimson out there; Julien sprang up from his chair with great worry, but Maurice dragged him back down and shook his head at him, mutely advising him to give her some space.
"Clo-Clo...? You – you okay...?" the king inquired instead, only to be ignored as she stormed right past him. She'd wiped off most of the sand on the way; her spine, however, was still peppered with grains and seashells, which dispelled any doubts about what could've gone down.
The bodyguard threw herself at the far wall, bracing her body against it with eyes clamped shut, teeth grinding, and lungs rasping for breath, heedless of the other patrons' eyes on the back of her head. She felt like every stride that had been previously made to assuage her anger had just come undone; right now she was so furious she could've screamed till her vocal cords gave out, and plunged her fists through the lauhala matting with savage ferocity.
How could her sister be so ungrateful, so entitled? Here she was, trying darn near everything she could to do right by her when by all means she shouldn't have to, and this was how she was repaid?!
Enough was enough. If Crimson insisted on pushing away the only person in the world who truly cared for her, so be it; from now on, she was done playing nice!
"Clo-Clo!" That was King Julien calling to her again, sounding much closer than before – when she forced her eyes open and looked to her left, she saw him standing beside her. Against Maurice's better judgment, he'd stepped in after all, as he knew the last thing she'd do was lash out at him. "Hey," he muttered as he rubbed her back consolingly, returning it to its original dark brown color, "it's okay. You tried. I'm sure tomorrow you'll get another chance."
"There won't be another chance," she hissed at him so coldly he took his hand off like she were made of ice.
"But... why? What happened... if you don't mind me asking?"
"What I deserve for never learning my lesson. As you can tell, Crimson's made it abundantly clear she's got no interest in being with me. Well, to hell with her, I say!" She palmed the wall with such strength the masks hanging next to her shuddered like leaves, all nearly dropping to the floor. "She thinks she can keep treating me like living garbage, and make a fool outta me?! I'll show her!" Then she swallowed hard. "Why didn't ya let me handle her, Your Majesty? I know I could've lost my temper, but you're the last being on Earth who should ever try to reason with her! I managed to talk her into coming with us; maybe I could've convinced her to settle down too! Now it's all ruined; I had this one chance to warm up to my sister and you blew it!"
She was trying her best not to yell at him; as mad as she was, she understood he had meant well.
"I... I just wanted to help," he confirmed remorsefully, "If I'd known it was gonna backfire, I wouldn't have..." He sighed, withholding himself from saying anything that might anger her even more. Instead he looked over to Mort and Maurice, as though seeking their advice. All he got was two blank stares.
A shuffling noise was heard then. When he glanced back, he saw Clover standing in front of the jukebox, staring at it with a strange, borderline creepy fixation. What is she doing? Julien thought, She's seen with her own eyes that thing isn't working...
"Uh, what are you...?" he mumbled as he moved in beside her.
She did not reply; wouldn't even look at him. The expression on her face was a piteous amalgam of just about every negative emotion someone who'd been unjustly wronged could experience; among them rage, despair, frustration, and hopelessness beyond measure. The king's heart sank as he gazed upon it; he felt guilty for having inadvertently caused this. So, so guilty. Now Crimson was gone – maybe for good this time – and the odds of her and Clover making amends after this, judging by the latter's current disposition, seemed... minimal.
"Clo-Clo..." His hand hovered tentatively over her shoulder, only for him to drop it. She didn't want his sympathies.
Suddenly, she hooked one of her hands around the jukebox's side, whilst the other probed for the buttons required to start it up. Then she picked a song – any would do – and waited a few seconds. As she herself expected, nothing happened. She pressed it again, virtually punching it in. Still nothing. She quietly growled at the unresponsive machine, her left eye twitching.
"C'mon, ya motherf-!"
Then she pressed it one more time, and then another, and another, persisting pointlessly till the hollow click of the "PLAY" button was the only sound permeating the cabin, as if Clover were under the assumption that she could resurrect the jukebox through sheer force of will alone. Of course, she was completely aware of the futility of her actions; she was more looking for an excuse to take her anger out on something than actually wanting to hear any music.
Growing all the more angry, she hit the device's side with her fist – its entire frame trembled and sent an echoing rattle across the room, prompting an observing Dwayne to break his silence, and tell her to stop what she was doing and get back to her seat, or get out. He wasn't just worried she'd end up irreparably damaging the jukebox; the last thing he needed now was her scaring off the few customers he still had with her increasingly violent behavior.
He wasn't rude about it – after all, he did hold the royal protector in very high regard – however, when her scorching emerald eyes met his tame sunflower ones, his complaints were shushed instantly. For the scant few moments their eye contact lasted, it was as though he'd stared into the face of death itself.
"Work, you piece of shit! Wooork!" Clover shouted as soon as she'd stopped looking at him. She continued tinkering with the controls like her life depended on it, but it was no use. Only staunch silence rewarded her efforts. This only made her even angrier and double down on them – until, in a fateful bout of rage, she grabbed hold of the jukebox's flanks, rocked it back and forth several times, and then screamed and shoved it into the far wall, before suddenly kicking it for all she was worth. The broken-hearted lemur girl kept leveling insults and spewing curses at the machine as she continued to pound it with her fists, but really, those who knew, knew none of her words were aimed at it.
In any case, something had to be done before she took this too far. A table of clients had already vacated in fear, and more were soon looking to do the same.
"No! What are you doing?! Stop!" Dwayne cried to her as he ran out from behind the bar, placating hands held up front. Yet he wouldn't dare to lay them on her; only Julien had the confidence to step up in order to rope his arms around her waist, and start pulling her away.
"Chillax, Clo-Clo, chillax! That jukebox's done nothing to you!"
However, since she was so much stronger than him, he wasn't able to get her out of range quickly enough – with another roar, she struck her right foot out against the jukebox's glass pane, behind which the turntable stood guarded. The impact was earth-shaking. A shrill crack rang out as a single large fissure divided the pane in two halves, the entire apparatus shaking as if hit by an earthquake...
...And from then on, everything changed.
All of a sudden, as if awakened from a lengthy slumber, the exterior neon tubes were turned back on, at first flickering dimly, before swiftly powering up to their full intensity, setting the corner awash with color. All the lemurs in the cabin peered on in both confusion and surprise as the speakers began to emit electronic warbles that slowly began to clear, and then morphed into the soulful strains of a melody – the vinyl on the turntable had started spinning, and it wasn't long before the patrons were graced with twanging guitars, steel drums, and summery vocal harmonies. The collective shock that had overtaken the entire room was such that everyone stared at it as though they couldn't believe their eyes and ears. Julien let go of Clover, and the two, along with Mort and Maurice, gathered around the jukebox to marvel at the incredible phenomenon that was taking place.
"Well, take me out back and shoot me dead!" howled Dwayne as he joined the entourage in wonderment; he didn't even seem to mind the shattered pane one bit. Indeed, he laughed at it like he actively welcomed the change. "You – you fixed it! You actually fricking fixed it! Oh, bless you, Frank, bless you!" Unable to contain his excitement, he crouched in front of it to assess the fruits of Clover's assault. Aside from a few sizable dents where she had kicked it and some scratches and tears here and there, the device could be described as being in better shape than ever. "Ma'am, I've no idea what you've just done, but I sure am glad you did it! This is unbelievable! Oh, wait till our co-workers hear about this!"
"You're damn right they're gonna hear it!" Julien encouraged him on with a smirk – it was hardly possible to determine which of the two was smiling harder. "Pump that stuff all the way up to Sunday, my dude! Let the whole beach hear it! Let the lions and the zebras in the mainland hear it; we're all starving for some action here!"
"Yes, sir!" The elated bartender obliged; he tinkered with the volume levels for a little to test the speakers' condition, and when he was certain they were in complete working order, he kept spinning the dial until the music had filled every last inch of the room and beyond. For thoroughness' sake, he also switched tracks a couple times, to see if the auto-loader functioned as well. He let out an even bigger laugh when the vinyl discs were swapped in and out, and subsequently placed on the turntable without major defect.
"Wait, so you're not mad at her?" Mort asked him, referring to Clover – the only one who was not smiling.
He glared down at the little lemur with brightly shining eyes as he stood up. "You kidding? I should get on my knees and worship her; don't you know what this could mean for business? This place won't last another quarter they way things are going, but now we could see a huge uptick in customers if we capitalize on this well enough!" Now talking to himself, he jumped back behind the bar, for many of the other patrons had started flocking to the jukebox, cheering and talking over one another about which song they wanted to be played next as they broke into dance, happy to finally being able to shake off the boredom that had plagued them for so long. This new wind of enthusiasm running amok was very likely to increase demand for drinks, so Dwayne readied himself for the chance to put his bartending skills to the test once again – some people were already calling for another round. He waited with fingers crossed for all this noise to entice the people on the beach to come take a look as well.
"Clo-Clo, has anyone ever told you you're a genius? 'Cause if not, I'll tell you myself – you are a genius, ha ha ha! Maybe coming here won't have been for nothing after all!" Julien exclaimed; in the meantime, he'd become the latest member of an increasingly large number of people shuffling their feet to the beat. Yet his bodyguard couldn't have shared their joy any less. She just stood in place straight as a board, arms folded and eyebrows crunched, glaring daggers at everything around her. All this gaiety meant so little to her that she wanted absolutely no part in it – the biggest dilemma these people were going to face tonight was the amount of liquor they could consume without blacking out. They didn't understand her pain; they never would.
Thus, when was subjected to a litany of congratulations from her peers, she didn't smile or thank them once. Then the royal draped his arm around her tensed shoulders and asked her to sing along with him, as though he were asking her to forget about Crimson and act like everything was fine, as he had seemed to have done.
But she didn't; all she did was shrug. "Psch, and they say violence never solves anything," she remarked flatly, throwing one last bitter look at the jukebox before she turned away, forcing Julien off as she distanced herself from the scene.
The time slowly passed, and things did in fact seem to be looking up for the Bootlegger's Bay. Although interest had started off rather disappointingly, a steady stream of visitors, attracted by the commotion and word of mouth that the lemur king himself was spending the night here, too, had injected all-new life into the once-decrepit cabin – there were now so many people in it that there was hardly a place left to sit or even stand. Dwayne was beyond ecstatic to be working overtime; in little over an hour, he'd served more snacks and drinks than in the past fourteen days combined. Dance, cocktails, jokes, and laughter had become the norm, helmed by the soundtrack of an endless tropical summer.
There was only one issue, however. One single hiccup that was preventing this moment of celebration from being truly perfect: Clover. The angry guardian had once more receded into herself to cope with her sorry state of affairs; there she was now, standing on her own in a corner, blue lagoon in hand, mind crawling with demons. In no way different from how she'd been at Club Xanadu some hours ago – right back to square one. She asked herself why she was even still here despite there being nothing to keep her anymore. Surely there was still the looming threat of Pam, but what did she care? She was too burned out to dedicate one more second of her time to worrying about that, regardless of how loudly her deep-rooted love for her sister advised against it.
The decision was therefore simple – she would finish her drink, and go home to get some much-needed rest.
Swilling at an unhurried pace – at least Maurice had chosen well – she drained every last blue droplet from the mug, and then made her lonely way across the cabin towards the others' table. When she got there, the three boys turned to her like they'd seen a ghost materializing out of thin air.
"Change your mind?" Julien queried. There was hope in his voice, but not much.
She shook her head. "Nope. Sorry. I'm outta here. I'm kinda tired, and since tomorrow I'm gonna have to deal with... her all over again, I think it'll be best if I go catch some Z's. Just wanted to let y'all know." Then, addressing the aye-aye beside him, she pointed to their mugs. "'Member, mate, see to it that he doesn't go too hard on that stuff, or you'll have to collect him off the floor like we always end up doing."
Maurice paused, but then nodded. Like Julien, he had his own reasons for feeling terrible, having misled Clover into what had turned out to be nothing but a lie.
"Hey, hold the phone; you can't just leave us," claimed His Majesty. "You're my bodyguard; I need you here with me at all times to, well, bodyguard me! What if someone tries to kidnap me, or assassinate me, or spike my drink while you're gone, huh?"
"Who, a bunch of drunkard bums and hippies? C'mon, look at 'em; they wouldn't hurt a fly. You'll be alright," she replied. Julien gaped at her in astonishment – any other time, she would've agreed with him on his points without question, and moreover, strove even harder to safeguard him from anyone who'd even think of looking at him with anything less than the friendliest of intentions. Now she was so disinterested she might as well be a different person.
"Well, have a good night, guys," she added dispassionately. "By the way, if you happen to see y'know who, don't tell her where I am. For her own sake."
Having nothing more to say, she strutted away, leaving the boys with their words in their mouths. She then waded through the crowd, stopping at the bar to drop off the empty mug. Before she left, though, she was going to order one more thing to take with her for the long journey home – in this early July night, the heat was such that even without the sun, one could never skimp on some extra hydration. She leaned with her elbow on the counter as she waited for her turn. When the busy bartender eventually slid over, he tossed the mug into a basket for later cleanup, and then happily asked the bodyguard how he could be of service. Her only request was a humble cup of water.
"...So, no luck with your sister, huh, ma'am?" he asked her as he filled up a large iced glass instead, as a token of gratitude for the repaired jukebox.
Clover shot him a glare, but then answered with a curt, "No."
"That's too bad. In any case, though, try not to be too hard on her. We all do and say things we don't mean when we're angry."
She huffed, taking the water. "Trust me, pal, you wouldn't be saying that if you knew her like I do. Every bad thing she ever says or does to me, she means it with all her heart – every single one. And I'm done." She shrugged her shoulders with an air of defeat. "I'm done. I don't need to take that kinda abuse from anyone, much less from a narcissistic brat who's always had life handed to her on a bloody silver platter, yet still has the nerve to complain 'bout everything." Then, she made a motion as if she were going to leave the conversation at that, only to hesitate at the last moment, and look at him dead in the eyes. "Y'know, you are a nice fella. I've noticed this lil' thing ya got going on with her... D'you want my advice? Drop it. Stop talking to her, period. The only thing my sis brings to anyone who gets close to her is utter ruin – most of all men like you. First she'll claim she cares 'bout ya, then she'll ensnare ya in her trap to get whatever the hell outta ya, and before you know it, your heart will be in shambles while she does it again with someone else!"
"But – but ma'am, Crimson is just a client-
"Yeah, that's what you're saying now. That's what they all say." With this ominous warning, she let him be. "Heed my words, bruv, she ain't worth it."
"Um... thank you. I'll – I'll bear that in mind," the unsettled man stammered as he watched her leave. "Er, have a good night; come back anytime! Oh, and feel free to keep the glass!"
She raised it to him without looking back.
Outside, she stopped for a moment to close her eyes, take a deep breath, and then take a long, refreshing sip of water. She was just about to move out when suddenly, she felt something tug at her tail. The bodyguard glanced behind herself, finding a very short brown-furred lemur clinging to her with evenly short arms, as if he were attempting to pull her back inside, or at least prevent her from moving any farther.
"What are ya doing?" she asked him in a completely deadpan tone.
"Why can't you stay with us?" Mort asked her in his childlike voice, clearly not wanting her to go, "Why do you have to leave just when things are getting good?"
She sighed inwardly. "I wish I didn't have to, Mort. This place is actually pretty swell, but... well, y'know. There was only one reason I even came here, and now... that reason is gone. So I'm going too." She frowned at him, unmoved by his sad hazel eyes, wilted ears, and pouty lips. "C'mon, don't gimme that puppy face; I know you and Maurice were excited to give this a shot – and we did! It just didn't work out. It was naïve of me to ever think it would."
"But you don't know that!" he differed, "How can you if you're giving up so soon?"
Now he was sticking even harder to her tail, yet it was useless – all Clover had to do to shake him off was start walking forward. The mouse lemur, too weak to hold on, face-planted to the floor as the slender appendage slipped from his hands. "Quit it, Mort, I'm not gonna argue. Go back inside. We'll talk tomorrow."
"Hey!" In no time, he'd risen back up to launch himself at her tail, this time wrapping his arms and legs around its tip as one would do to climb a vine. "Wait up!" he whined, "This isn't fair; why do you have to be the one to go? You shouldn't have to do that just because of Crimson! Who's she to dictate what you can or cannot do?"
Realizing she was dragging him along, she stopped in her tracks and whirled around – then she slithered her tail up to her eye level, lifting Mort like he weighed nothing. "Hmmm... you're an insistent lil' pain, aren't ya?" she hissed at him.
He smirked. "Well, you know what King Julien's always saying: there's nothing I'm better at than being annoying!"
This, surprisingly, got a chuckle out of her. She gently set him down on the nearby handrail; his smaller size permitted him to sit there comfortably. "Heh, ain't that the truth."
Then she bent over it beside him, her smile dimming, the glass moodily dangling from her fingers. Through the serenity of the environment, the mouse lemur could sense a turbulence the likes of which he could hardly understand; as someone who was used to breeze through life without a care, not taking much of anything seriously, and was seldom bogged down by everyday hardships or responsibilities, he was far from qualified to offer emotional support to anyone. And he was perfectly aware of this – which was why he wasn't going to bore Clover with long-winded platitudes about false hopes and silver linings. He just wanted to know whether there was something he could do to change her mind.
They were staring into the vastness of the beach, watching its denizens stroll by. Clover hadn't left yet; that probably meant she was willing to hear Mort out, at least for a little while. He couldn't stall another second.
"You sure you don't wanna stay?" he asked her quite brazenly. "You could get yourself a few more of those blue pools or whatever it is they're called if you did; you seemed to like them quite a bit."
"Lagoon, Mort. Blue lagoon."
"Yeah, what I said. Why don't you order that, and go have some fun with us; you know, to get the blues off? King Julien and Maurice are sad to see you go. It would make them very happy if you came back..."
She gave him a sideways glare. "Them? And what about me? Huh, what about me, Mort? Isn't me slaving away enough that I can't even leave without someone telling me otherwise? I don't care if that's not what I should be doing – I'm doing it 'cause I wanna do something for myself this once! I wanna go home, I wanna lie in my bed, and I wanna forget 'bout this messed-up world for a few hours if I can! Why is that so hard for everybody to understand?"
"Oh..." Mort lowered his gaze to his feet, dangling high above the sand. "I... I'm sorry if I-
"Nah, it's okay. It's just that... I wanna know what the hell I was on when I agreed to this in the first place. I just can't seem to get anything right – no matter what I do, I just keep making everything harder for myself! And the funniest part is, the only thing I'm getting outta this is that I get to finish off whatever's left of my relationship with Crimson... as if that hadn't hit rock bottom ages ago."
"But you aren't doing this for her; you're doing it for King Julien, remember? And – and then there's Pam too! You can't let that cheater win the pageant!" Mort reminded her. She tiredly rubbed her forehead with her free hand, telling herself over and over to remain steadfast in the face of such dismal odds. For her king, and for everything she stood for: hard work. Loyalty. Justice.
"I won't... but how much more of this can I keep putting myself through?" she uttered then, "I'm not made of steel, Mort. It's been one day, and I'm already at my wits' end. I don't even have the slightest clue how I'm gonna beat Pam; if my stage fright doesn't wreck my performance, Crimson will for sure! She's killing me inside; I know she can't stand the fact that she has to play second fiddle to me and she resents me for it, as if it were my fault she couldn't participate! And I just know that even if I do everything she asks of me; that if I do win and she gets her way, it won't change a damn thing between us. She'll always hate me. I'm glad none of ya will ever know how soul-crushing that is."
Mort had listened to her with wide-open ears; however, the silence that followed showed that he didn't have a lot to add to the discussion. He could tell her everything would be alright as long as they stayed together, or something along those inspirational lines, but for what? Julien and Maurice had done that, too, and neither time had it amounted to much. Another empty promise (though sincere it might be) wasn't going to spontaneously solve all of her problems. What Clover wanted was results, to actually see things change for the better, yet both lemurs understood this would remain a pipe dream.
"...You know what? You're right. Get out of here; I won't keep you any longer," Mort said, jerking his head toward the treeline behind them. His torch-lit face displayed a tender grin, which made her all the more confused, since he'd been against this very thing barely five minutes ago.
"Huh?"
"Yeah, you heard me! Go and take the rest of the night off! Me and Maurice will keep things in order around here; make sure nobody messes with our KJ!"
The bodyguard smiled back; it was so unusual of him to talk with maturity of any sort that simply watching him do it served to very slightly improve her mood. "Wow, thanks, lil' buddy. I'm sure you'll make me proud," she stated as she ruffled his fur, earning a giggle that accentuated her little friend's big front tooth like an oversized diamond. She couldn't help but start laughing with him about this. Then he bounced to his feet, and crawled on Clover's back, like he did sometimes when he was feeling particularly playful.
"And if Crimson tries to pop in her noggin at any time, I'll give her a stern talking-to as well!" he squealed with zest.
"Oh, will ya now?"
"Yes! She doesn't deserve to have someone as nice and cool as you as her sis! I really gotta feel sorry for her; she's got no idea what she's missing!"
Clover stepped away from the handrail to straighten her body, her tiny passenger shifting from right to left on her shoulder. "Bah, it's her loss. Why would I even want someone like that in my family anyway when I've already got three amazing brothers to fill in the gap?"
"Well, when you put it that way..."
"Oh, you bet I do! Crimson's screwed me over for the last time! If there's one thing I'm sure of now, it's that!" she declared as she began to go down the boardwalk – Mort was going to accompany her to the beach, where the two would then say their goodbyes for the night. However, embroiled in dialogue as they were, neither noticed that someone was coming their way, too. Now, people going up this path had become a common sight throughout the last hour, but something set this one apart: it had stopped near the bottom, whence they now stared keenly at the descending pair. It wasn't until they turned the final bend that they realized who it was... and she was not happy to be the subject of their criticism.