Chapter Forty-six: An Old Flame

Chapter 46

An Old Flame

A white middle-aged man of average height walked down the corridors of the Pink Top General Hospital. He appeared disconsolate and unhappy. He wore a blue polo, khaki pants, and brown loafers. He kept his mousy brown and gray hair swept to the side and red-rimmed square glasses hung over his long nose and hazel eyes. He was George Malone, Susan’s husband, Maxx’s father, and the son of the late Maxwell Malone, Sr., the former prime minister of Australia. George is the current prime minister of Australia.

An average-sized white woman dressed in a pink ensemble with a blazer, skirt, and heels. and had a string of pearls around her neck, walked by him. She wore her honey-blonde hair in a flicked-up bob and half-moon pink-rimmed glasses hung over her pointed nose and behind her green eyes. She was Susan Malone, George Malone’s wife, and Maxx’s mother.

George and Susan heard the news of what happened to Jaxon Tachibana, that Maxx has a manager, and that he has finished recording his first album.

George and Susan saw Jaxon in a private hospital room in a full body cast with his face exposed. Susan knocked on the door frame.

Susan: “Hellloooooo! It’s Susan and George Malone! You got company!”

She sang. She turned to George.

Susan: “Where on Reona is Maxwell, George?! Do you think he got lost?!”

She said frantically. George drew a defeated breath and looked at his son dragging his feet in the foyer.

Maxx wore a pink fishnet top, pink leopard print pants, white gloves and pointy silver boots. He carried a blue basket that said, “Congratulations on your baby boy!” with diapers, onesies, baby powder, baby wipes, and bottles. Attached to it was a helium balloon with a clown doctor giving a thumbs up with “GET WELL SOON” in big rainbow letters.

Strutting beside him was Rock Rebeaux dressed in a gold red sequin zoot suit and gold pointy boots. Susan led Maxx into the room where he scowled at Jaxon and reluctantly held up the basket.

Jaxon: “What the hell is this?! What the fuck are you doing here?!”

He hissed and glared at Maxx.

Maxx: “Mummy-dearest and Daddy-kins made me, asshole!”

He fired back. George sighed.

Jaxon: “Seriously? You brought mummy and daddy with you?!”

Susan clasped her hands together as her eyes sparkled.

Susan: “Maxwell is your very best friend and George and I are grateful for that after that dreadful Ashley betrayed our precious angel.”

She said and withdrew a handkerchief from her purse to wipe her eyes. Jaxon gaped at her.

Jaxon: “He is NOT my friend.”

He glared at Maxx.

Rock: “And I am Rock Rebeaux! Pleasure to meet you, Axion Jaxon! I am the manager of Sex Beest! Maxxy told me all about you!”

He grinned at him. Jaxon gaped at Rock.

Jaxon: “...Manager? Of what? Sex Beest isn’t real.”

He scoffed and laughed dubiously. Rock grinned at him.

Maxx: “NAH-AH! I told you I get twenty thousand lady babes and gave ‘em a million orgasms!”

He whined, stomping his feet. Jaxon scoffed and laughed at Maxx.

Rock: “And you’ll be bound to give them more orgasms when they see your sexy posters, too!”

He shot him with a fingerbang.

Rock: “Jaxon, since you’re Maxxy’s best friend, you get a preview of one of his Maxxilious posters! Try not to get too hard! We don’t want to alarm the nurses and Maxx’s parents are here!”

He wiggled his eyebrows, withdrew a poster from his jacket, and presented it to him. It was Maxx in a kiddie pool sipping on a sack of goon with his star-shaped sunglasses on and cat poop in the pool. Jaxon burst out laughing.

Jaxon: “Stop it, you’re killing me, you’re going to give me a heart attack.”

He cackled.

Maxx: “NAH-AH! YA FUCKIN’ LOSER! I’M FUCKIN’ SEXY!”

He snapped.

Rock: “And you can collect them all when his album releases!”

He added.

George furrowed his eyebrows at the poster.

George: “Maxwell, what is this?! Is this something to be proud of?!”

He asked sharply.

Maxx: “Yeah, Daddy-o! It’s sexy and hot! Da lady babes will be lined up to fuck me!”

He insisted. Jaxon rolled his eyes and laughed.

Jaxon: “Lined up to fuck off.”

He said dryly.

Susan: “Maxwell, language! I think you should settle with a nice girl!”

She cried.

Jaxon: “No nice girl would want that.”

Maxx: “Nah-ah, Mummy-dearest! Maxxy Malone don’t marry! You can’t tame da beast!”

He shot his fist in the air.

George: “Well, Maxwell, I think we should allow you some space to speak with your friend.”

He smiled warmly. Maxx ignored his parents and focused on Jaxon.

Susan: “Come along, dear, I’m sure Maxwell and his friend whose name I can’t pronounce have much to discuss!”

She sang as she led George out.

Rock: “Jaxon, did you know this picture is going on your next album?”

He asked with a grin.

Jaxon: “...What picture?!”

Rock held a picture with Jaxon in his full body cast with “Mummy Metal” in big, bold letters.

Jaxon: “...What the fuck is this? I didn’t agree to this!”

He snapped.

Rock: “Well, they put it in any way!”

He grinned.

Jaxon: “WHO did?!”

He rasped.

Rock: “YOU did!”

He grinned. Jaxon gaped at him.

Jaxon: “No I didn’t? How the fuck in the state I’m in?! Who did this?!”

He snapped.

Rock: “Well, when you checked in, you told the press, it was your DREAM to have this picture taken of you in a full body cast!”

Jaxon gaped at him.

Jaxon: “...Are you fucking with me?!”

Rock: “Nope! You said it, buddy! Why would they lie? Who else could concoct such a scheme? Do you think it was Maxxy?!”

He shot his hand out to Maxx masturbating to his poster.

Jaxon glared at Maxx.

Jaxon: “Did you do this?!”

He then gaped at Maxx when he noticed him masturbating.

Jaxon: “What the fuck?! Are you masturbating to yourself?!”

He exclaimed.

Maxx: “DUH! What does it look like, loser!? I’m da sexiest thing since sex!”

He thrust his hips.

Jaxon: “Get that thing away from me.”

He waved at Maxx.

~

A taxi pulled up to Foxy Robin’s. The door swung open, and Celeste stepped out. Deimos, Tristan, Fabien, and Makayla followed her. Tristan put his sports jacket over his suit. They went up the steps, and a burly white man in a white tuxedo shirt, red waistcoat, black bowtie, black pants, and black patent shoes greeted them. He was bald, and his face resembled a bulldog.

Bouncer: “I will need to see some ID.”

He said gruffly to them over the pulsing music from inside the nightclub. Celeste fished in her purse and opened her wallet to show her driver’s license. Deimos, Tristan, and Fabien reached into their back pockets to withdraw their wallets. They also showed him their driver’s licenses. Makayla reached into her bra, pulling out her ID from her large breasts.

Makayla: “Here you go!”

Tristan’s eyes grew large and he blushed. The burly man smiled widely at Makayla as he examined her ID.

Burly man: “Okay, pretty lady, go on in.”

He purred.

Makayla: “Why, thank you!”

Burly man: “The rest of you have to pay a cover charge.”

Fabien: “Fan-fucking-tastic.”

He said dryly.

Tristan: “Oh, golly.”

He muttered. Deimos looked impassive. He paid the cover charge for the rest of them.

Tristan: “Thank you, Deimos.”

He kissed his cheek.

They entered the bustling club and were surrounded by loud, thumping, upbeat synth music. The music pumped up the patrons, who swayed to the rhythm on the dancefloor as they sipped their cocktails and chatted with each other.

The club had two floors. The first floor had a large, heart-shaped dance floor flanked by loudspeakers, a stage with a DJ stand upfront, and a coat check area in the back. Leather lounge seating was available around the dance floor, and there were full-service bars on either side of the heart and a coat check area in the back. Blue, pink, and purple neon light strips illuminated the bar, stage, ceiling trim, and floor trim.

The upper floor had two balconies that curved to conform to the shape of the heart and a DJ booth toward the back. There were also private booths and tables on those balconies, where you could order bottle service for an exorbitant fee. A heavy, heart-shaped black door with “DO NOT ENTER” on it.

The walls and furnishings upstairs and downstairs are covered in purple velvet, and some of the seating has pink velvet cushions.

Tristan, Deimos, Celeste, Fabien, and Makayla went to sit on a leather lounge with a glass circular table. The glass table was illuminated by a pink neon light.

Makayla: “This is a totally different vibe from Hellbent.”

She shouted over the music and chatter around them.

Deimos: “How so?”

He shouted back at her.

Makayla: “The people, the music… the overall vibe.”

She shouted back.

Celeste: “Why, though? I don’t get it. What is Hellbent?!”

She asked and scratched her head.

Makayla: “It’s the club I worked at in Selene Valley!”

A young white woman holding a tray approached them. She wore a purple sequin tuxedo jacket with gold sequin lapels over a black leotard. She had a white collar with a black bowtie, a cat ears headband, a black tail out of the butt, fishnet pantyhose, and black pumps with a white puff on the toe.

Waitress: “Hello, welcome to Foxy Robin’s! What can I get you to drink?”

Deimos: “A Corona Extra.”

He said flatly.

Fabien: “A green parrot.”

Tristan: “A tuxedo martini.”

Makayla: “A vodka with soda!”

Tristan looked away and cupped his mouth. Disgusting, he thought.

Celeste: “I want a root beer float with cherries on top!”

Deimos gaped mutely at her. Tristan shrugged. I don’t know, I think it’s cute, he thought. Makayla smiled and laughed.

Makayla: “That’s cute.”

Waitress: “Of course.”

She left and went to the bar.

Deimos: “What do we do here that we can’t do at home?”

He asked. Tristan shrugged.

Tristan: “I haven’t the foggiest idea.”

Fabien: “You two don’t go to clubs much, do you?”

Deimos: “No, we’re not social.”

He said evenly.

Tristan: “Is there a place where we can read something?”

He asked. Makayla laughed.

Fabien threw his arms up.

Fabien: “Whenever he went to a party, he was in the corner reading a book.”

Tristan raised an eyebrow.

Tristan: “Is this a bad thing?”

He asked sharply.

Deimos: “Parties are boring, so no.”

He said evenly. Makayla gaped at him.

Makayla: “Boring?! How?”

Tristan: “Because we’re not social people and small talk bores us. Aside from the eating, what is there to do? So I found a good book and read.”

He explained.

Celeste: “I never was invited to parties.”

She admitted.

Tristan: “Lucky you.”

Makayla: “I totally would have invited you to parties!”

She said to Celeste.

Celeste: “Thanks!”

The waitress returned with their drinks. Deimos paid for them and tipped her. Tristan smiled at the amount of cherries in Celeste’s root beer float in the beer mug. It was topped with whipped cream and two pralines stuck out of them.

Tristan: “That is many cherries!”

Her eyes lit up at the root beer float as she picked the cherries and pralines and ate them. Makayla’s drink came in a Collins glass with ice. Deimos took his Corona and pushed the lime wedge into the beer bottle. Tristan’s cocktail had an orange on the rim of the glass and a cherry on the swizzle stick. Celeste took the orange and cherry from Tristan’s drink. Tristan sighed and shook his head. Tristan sipped on his cocktail. Fabien removed the mint garnish from the Collins glass and put it on the napkin.

~

Robin walked upstairs with Ashlee in her arms. She wore a dark gray and green gradient sequin wrap dress with strappy sandal heels. Examining the patrons at her club, she smiled widely.

She froze when she saw a familiar face. Her jaw dropped. Is that?! She wondered and zoned in on Tristan.

~

1978 - Collège Vigne - 3ème

15-year-old Robin Rénard sat in her class, her arms folded across her chest. She wore her long straight white hair parted in the middle. She wore an off-shoulder beige blouse with angel sleeves, Daisy Duke shorts, and wooden platform clogs. She had just gotten into another fight with her boyfriend, Claude Haprèle, and she was done with him. Her classmates chatted with her, but then he showed up.

He was the tallest boy in the class and the school. He stood at 6 feet tall. He wore his fluffy white hair in a long shag haircut. He wore a beige-striped pressed shirt with a brown sweater vest over it, yellow and black bell bottoms, and brown wingtip Oxfords. Aviator glasses hung over his nose. He pushed them up with his knuckle. He was 14-year-old Tristan Trémaux, the smartest kid in class, and his grades were always between sixteen and twenty. Everyone wanted Laurent Chauve but Robin had her sights set on Tristan. Unlike those other worthless men, Tristan and her connected, she thought. He understood ballets, plays, and books, and understood her.

Tristan sat down and struggled to get into the small desk. There was a ripple of laughter amongst his classmates. Robin rose and sat in front of him glaring at the others laughing at him. Tristan moved his legs aside.

During lunch break, the students would chat in the cafeteria or on campus, but Tristan was always in the library. He never ate lunch. Robin took it upon herself to sneak into the library and watch him reading. He was reading, “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?”

Robin sat across from him and smiled. Tristan jolted and flashed her a smile.

Robin: “Hello…”

Tristan: “Greetings.”

He went back to reading. She peered into his face. She pursed her lips.

Robin: “I’m practicing for a ballet I am doing. It’s called Giselle. I will be playing the part of Giselle.”

She said and bit her bottom lip. Tristan stopped reading and paused.

Tristan: “Oh right, I know of that ballet. It’s a tragic tale.”

Robin paused.

Robin: “You know about it?”

She asked astonishingly. Tristan slowly nodded.

Tristan: “Yes. It’s about a shy, young peasant girl named Giselle who falls in love with Albrecht, the Duke of Silesia. He disguises himself as a peasant named ‘Loys’ to court Giselle while being engaged to Bathilde, the Duke of Courtland’s daughter.”

He began.

Tristan: “When Giselle discovers his true identity and deception, she cannot cope and dies of a broken heart.”

He folded his hands and looked out the window.

Tristan: “When Hilarion mourns at Giselle’s forest grave, he is frightened away by the ‘Wilis’, who are ghosts of women who died of broken hearts and betrayed by their lovers. They take revenge on any man they may encounter and force him to dance to death. When Albrecht lays flowers on Giselle’s grave and her spirit appears, where he begs her for forgiveness.”

He cleared his throat.

Tristan: “Giselle’s love for Albrecht counters the Wilis’ magic and spares his life. Her love broke the chains of hatred linked to the Wilis, so they no longer haunt the forest and can rest in peace. It’s very tragic.”

He bowed his head. Robin locked her gaze on him.

Robin: “I’m surprised you knew about that ballet.”

Tristan managed a strained smile.

Robin: “Claude doesn’t know anything about ballet or plays.’

Tristan locked his gaze on her.

Tristan: “Why are you with him if you do not connect to him and have no common grounds?”

He asked her. Robin turned her head away and looked out the window.

Robin: “Did you ever fall in love, Tristan?”

Tristan froze at her question and shifted in his seat.

Tristan: “No… I haven’t given that much thought… I just don’t want a relationship like my parents had.”

He said taking on a tone of discomfort.

Robin: “Where are your parents?”

Tristan: “Papa is in a coma. The other thing is dead and good.”

He said and darkened. Robin peered in his face.

Robin: “Did you kill her?”

She whispered. Tristan gazed out the window and didn’t answer her.

~

A few months later, Robin approached Tristan.

Robin: “The Ides of March is approaching, Tristan!”

She teased. He turned to her and laughed a bit.

Tristan: “Ah yes, the soothsayer warned Caesar to ‘Beware the Ides of March’ in the first act. Caesar dismisses him as a ‘dreamer, thereby not lending credence to the prophet’s words.”

He held his forefinger up. Robin’s eyes sparkled.

Robin: “You knew what it meant!”

Her shoulders sank.

Robin: “Claude doesn’t… know what any of this means.”

She said somberly and bitterly. Tristan nodded.

Tristan: “I suppose most other people don’t. Most people don’t like to read or immerse in art.”

He offered. Robin locked her passionate gaze on him.

Robin: “You’re not like other boys, Tristan.”

Tristan paused and shifted his eyes.

Tristan: “...I’m not like other people, actually…”

He admitted.

After the students took “brevet des collèges” and received their “diplôme national du brevet”, they moved on to lycée. Tristan left Nouvelle Gaule to move to the United States with his paternal grandparents. Robin was brokenhearted and that year, Claude killed himself after he killed Robin’s mother and step-father.

~

Present Day…

Robin gazed down at Tristan, who was sipping his cocktail. I wonder if he still recognizes me, she thought, gazing at him dreamily.

~

Tristan and Deimos felt awkward and out of place here. Celeste sipped on her float and looked at the boys.

Celeste: “So I got the flyer from Lazaros’ mailbox. They had Lucky Charms on sale for two dollars! I really want them!”

She began. Makayla twisted her mouth when she mentioned Lazaros.

Celeste: “Also, those Slime Slurps… I want them to eat off your feet, Fabien and Tristan!”

She chirped. Tristan heaved a deep sigh and Fabien chuckled.

Fabien: “Slime Slurps, huh?”

He sipped his drink.

Makayla: “...What is a slime slurp?”

Celeste: “It’s a gummy candy in the shape of some mutant or monster.”

She replied.

Celeste: “And they have chocolate Jello roll-ups. You boys put those between your toes and I eat them from your feet!”

She clasped her hands and rubbed them together. Tristan laughed and shifted in his seat awkwardly. Fabien beamed and nodded.

Fabien: “I’m down for it.”

Makayla: “Well, that’s an original idea.”

Celeste: “It is?”

She tilted her head.

Deimos: “Many people indulge in eating food off feet. It’s not my thing per se but what she wants is acceptable.”

He admitted and shrugged.

Celeste: “I want Tristan and Fabien to wear a male slave costume and pour Ecto Cooler down their feet where I drink it off.”

She said breathlessly as her violet eyes sparkled. Tristan cupped his mouth to laugh. Fabien beamed, loving all of this.

Deimos: “Why don’t you want to do this to Craig’s feet?”

He asked. Celeste popped out of her fantasy. She grimaced.

Celeste: “I don’t want my slurps, roll-ups or Ecto Cooler to taste like his feet. Gross.”

She huffed. Makayla shuddered.

Makayla: “Can we not talk about my brother’s feet?”

She groused, choking on her drink.

Celeste: “Yeah, he’s not using Funny Feet. RIP Nuklear Intoxikation.”

She folded her arms and pouted.

Deimos: “It was dead anyway.”

Makayla: “Nuklear is dead…”

She twisted her mouth, finishing off her drink.

The waitress came with a tray and handed it to Tristan. It had “The Disappearing Man and other Mysteries by Isaac Asimov.” Tristan’s eyes lit up.

Tristan: “Is this for me?”

He pointed to himself.

Waitress: “Yes, sir! Courtesy of the owner!”

She smiled and he thanked her as he took the book.

Tristan: “I love this. I love reading.”

He said softly and opened the book up. Deimos eyed the waitress and then Tristan. How did they know this? He wondered. Makayla looked at the book incredulously.

Makayla: “...That’s strange. Who would hand you a book at a nightclub and why?”

Fabien: “The only people who know he loves to read at a party are Deimos and me.”

He said and drained his drink.

Makayla: “...I don’t know about that.”

She pondered, scanning the crowd. Deimos shifted in his seat uncomfortably and gave Tristan a beseeching look.

Tristan surveyed the cover of the book and felt Deimos’ discomfort was growing. He peered into his face and turned to the rest.

Tristan: “I think we should leave.”

He said flatly. Deimos looked at Tristan and smiled a bit. Makayla quirked an eyebrow.

Fabien: “Aside from her yakking about eating snacks off our feet and drinking, we did nothing.”

He rolled his eyes.

Tristan: “I think we should go. We did plenty.”

He reiterated firmly.

Makayla: “We didn’t even get to dance!”

Tristan: “As you said, I’m not a party goer or a nightclub person so I would be a bore anyway.”

He added and drew a long breath. Fabien looked away, not wanting to show he was disheartened but didn’t know why he was.

Fabien: “We never got around to figuring out why my father is coming…”

He muttered.

Tristan: “Well, we can discuss that in a quieter environment.”

He and Deimos rose.

Celeste: “Are you taking your book?”

She pointed to the book on the table.

Tristan: “Of course.”

He said as he picked it up. They left and Fabien followed.

~

Deimos, Makayla, and Celeste went home and the cab dropped Fabien and Tristan off at his house since Fabien wanted to talk to him one-on-one. Fabien slid his key into the lock, turned it and opened the door.

Fabien: “Don’t mind the mess.”

He muttered as he gawked at the clothes Craig and Gus dropped on the floor. Tristan examined the place. He heard Gus loudly snoring in his bedroom.

Tristan sat down at the dining room table and folded his hands.

Fabien: “Can I get you anything?”

He offered. Tristan raised his eyebrows, surprised by his hospitality.

Fabien: “I have SunnyLo Ice Wedges!”

He opened the freezer and took out a box with just two left.

Tristan: “Sure.”

Fabien handed Tristan the “Snowberry” and took the “Lime Pine” for himself. He sat down with Tristan. The two men opened the paper from the wedge.

Tristan: “What did you need to discuss with me?”

Fabien: “Why my father is coming…”

He said as his voice trailed off and licked his ice wedge. Tristan bit into it. How the fuck can he bite this shit and not get brain freeze? He thought.

Tristan: “He’s not coming to see me, Fabien. He would have called in advance. He didn’t contact me. I don’t think he’s coming to make amends to you either. It likely concerns a past case he did.”

He offered and chomped on the wedge. Fabien gazed at the ice wedge between his hands.

Fabien: “I intentionally paid no attention to his dumb cases to piss him off.”

Tristan nodded.

Tristan: “I understand that.”

Fabien: “If that’s the case, I don’t care. I don’t want to see him.”

He said with hurt.

Tristan: “You’re an adult now, Fabien. If you don’t want him in your life anymore, you’re not obligated to have him. You have your own house, your car, and your job. What do you need him for?”

He asked. Fabien drew a breath.

Fabien: “I think I’m waiting for him to apologize to me.”

He admitted and raked his fingers through his hair. Tristan paused. He locked his gaze on him.

Tristan: “Don’t chase for closure.”

He began.

Tristan: “Often times, you’re not going to get it. Some people just refuse to see the error in their ways and by chasing closure and trying to get others to understand you and where you’re coming from, you’re wasting your time. Focus on within and what makes you happy.”

He said coolly.

Tristan: “You will find more peace that way.”

He smiled a bit. Fabien looked away and smiled.

Fabien: “I just wish… some people would stay gone… You don’t have to deal with your mother ever again.”

Tristan darkened. He glared at Fabien. His glare sent chills down his spine.

Tristan: “That thing is not my mother.”

He growled.

Tristan: “And true, her physical presence is no more but she still haunts me, and sometimes Papa will say I am like her.”

He admitted.

Fabien: “I never met her. I just knew she tried to kill you all and your father was in a coma.”

He put his hands up. Tristan sighed.

Tristan: “That was the end but it was so much more…”

He raked his fingers through his hair.

He finished his ice wedge.

Tristan: “May I have another?”

He asked.

Suddenly, the door burst open as Craig entered, panting and drenched in sweat. Tristan’s nose scrunched at the odor.

Craig: “Well, that was a bloody good work-out—”

He froze when he saw Tristan with Fabien.

Craig: “The fuck is HE doin’ here?!”

He glared at him.

Tristan: “Fabien invited me in. He wanted to have an intelligent conversation for a change.”

He said sharply. Fabien drew a breath. Craig glared at Tristan.

Craig: “What the fuck? Why would you invite him for?!”

He pressed Fabien. Fabien raised his eyebrows.

Fabien: “When you went to work out, Makayla invited Deimos, Tristan, Celeste, and me to a new nightclub, and I wanted to talk to Tristan about my father.”

He explained.

He held up the empty box of SunnyLo ice wedges.

Fabien: “And we’re out of these. I gave the last one to Tristan.”

He said and dropped the box on the floor.

Craig: “WHAT?!”

His fury shot through the roof.

Craig: “H-How could you?!”

His bottom lip trembled. Tristan rolled his eyes.

Fabien: “What, invite him here or give him your last ice wedge?”

He asked sharply.

Craig: “Both! Ya brought ice cunt over here ‘n he ate my pine lime!”

He pouted.

Fabien: “I wanted to talk to him about my father! I can’t talk to you about him and THANK YOU for leaving your garbage around the house for me to clean up! Ya know what? If I find it on the floor, it’s garbage!”

He snapped. He marched to the long cupboard in the kitchen, opened it and grabbed a garbage bag from the box. He picked up the clothes and vinyls Craig left on the floor to put into the garbage. Tristan sat at the table pursing his lips and trying not to laugh.

Craig: “...What?! HEY! What did I do?! Why are you bein’ mean?!”

He cried and rushed over to the garbage to salvage his belongings.

Fabien: “GET AWAY FROM ME!”

He snapped. Craig recoiled, looking hurt.

Fabien: “I don’t ask much, Craig! I don’t like coming home to YOU and GUS leaving this place a mess!”

He barked and picked up his Nuklear Intoxikation shirts and shoved those into the trash. Tristan couldn’t hold it in any longer. He burst out laughing. Craig glared at Tristan hatefully.

Craig: “The fuck are YOU laughing at, cunt?! This isn’t funny!”

He snapped at him. Tristan laughed harder at Craig.

Fabien: “WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!”

He held up a beef jerky on the couch.

Fabien: “DO YOU WANT TO ATTRACT RATS AND COCKROACHES?!”

He bellowed.

Craig: “NO?! Why are you bein’ like this?!”

Fabien: “AND YOU WANT A DOG?!”

He snapped and threw it into the trash.

Fabien: “We’re NOT getting a dog!”

He snapped.

Craig: “WHAT?! Ohhh, come on! PLEAAAASE!”

He pleaded.

Fabien: “GET AWAY FROM ME! How could you NOT know why I am like this?! I get tired, Craig! AND YOU STINK!”

He snapped. Tristan laughed so hard, tears welled in his eyes. Craig’s lip trembled.

Craig: “...Why are you bein’ so mean?!”

He cried. He turned to Tristan and snarled.

Craig: “SHUT THE FUCK UP! You think you’re a nice bloke, but you’re not. You’re a cunt.”

He rasped at Tristan. Tristan laughed harder.

Fabien placed his hands on his hips and locked his glare on Craig.

Fabien: “I came home to a mess, Craig! Maybe your sister doesn’t give a shit but I care, and I don’t want rats and cockroaches coming here!”

He snapped.

Fabien: “I pay the bills, cook the meals, and look after two adult-children here! I’m a single dad with two kids!”

He added as his fury soared.

Tristan: “Don’t say that, Fabien. Craig is not going to understand the metaphor, and doesn’t know what a metaphor is.”

He groaned. Craig glared at him, baring his teeth.

Craig: “I know what a metaphor is! Here’s a fuckin’ metaphor!”

He huffed, flipping him the bird. Tristan rolled his eyes.

Tristan: “Connard.”

He countered.

Fabien: “I don’t care. He and Gus are children in adult male bodies.”

He huffed.

Fabien: “And you’re not using that Funny Feet! I don’t like foot stink, Craig! You getting pouty and huffy when I mention it doesn’t make your feet smell like roses!”

He hissed and shot his forefinger at him.

Craig pouted, grabbing the Funny Feet, He flicked off the lid and furiously sprayed it into his shoes and all over his feet, all the while, locking his glare on Tristan. Tristan shook his head and rolled his eyes.

Tristan: “You still have to shower, you fool.”

He scoffed. Fabien pulled a face.

Fabien: “He’s right.”

He hung his head and sighed.

Fabien: “Shower and THEN use it.”

He said firmly. Craig huffed and stomped off to the shower. They heard the shower running with water.

Tristan saw Deimos’ Ferrari roll up to Fabien’s house through the back door window..

Tristan: “Well, Deimos is here to pick me up. Are you going to be okay?”

He asked Fabien as he rose.

Fabien: “Yeah… Thank you, Tristan.”

He nodded and smiled a bit at him. Tristan smiled back. Fabien saw him to the door and watched Tristan go as he got into Deimos’ Ferrari. He closed the door and locked it.

~

Deimos was outside of his car to open the passenger’s door for Tristan. Tristan got in and Deimos closed it. He went to the driver’s seat and got in, taking the car out of emergency brake and driving away from the house.

Tristan: “Fabien wanted to discuss why his father was showing up. I talked to him and Craig showed up. Then Fabien…”

He started to laugh.

Tristan: “Started to throw Craig’s stuff on the floor into the trash.”

He chuckled. Deimos smiled.

Deimos: “While that is funny and Craig also belongs in the trash, I can’t stop thinking of that book.”

He sighed and focused on the road. Tristan hung his head.

Tristan: “Me neither… Could the club owner be that Percy thing?!”

He asked with fear in his eyes. He had his doubts but he could never be sure.

Deimos: “Doubt it.”

Tristan: “Yes, I don’t think he knows I love reading…”

He cupped his chin.

Deimos: “I won’t let anyone hurt you, Tristan…”

He took his hand and kissed it. Tristan felt his heart melt and butterflies form in his stomach.

~

On board a private jet, a woman in a navy blue stewardess’s uniform had a glass of scotch neat in an old-fashioned glass on a tray. She carried it and put it on the table in front of a stocky older white man who wore a brown suit, white pressed shirt, light blue tie, and brown leather loafers. He had piercing green eyes and wore his short white hair slicked back and had a full beard. He took a puff of his cigar and a sip of his scotch.

He sat across from a white slender woman with a large bosom. She had a pointed nose, sultry green eyes with long lashes, and her ruby red nails were manicured and pedicured to perfection. She looked like she came from old money with her hair styled into a Victorian era pompadour. She wore a black halter blouse with gold rose designs, black pants, and black high-heel sandals.

They were 67-year-old Basile Bellegarde and 44-year-old Francine Bellegarde, Fabien’s parents. Basile was a veteran lawyer who is now retired. He was looking through the Pink Star newspaper and his thumb landed on a picture of Robin wearing a head scarf on her head with cat-eye sunglasses, a little black dress, and Ashlee in her purse. She extended her hand out to Foxy Robin’s. Basile narrowed his eyes on her picture and growled, crushing it in his hands.