Chapter One-hundred Fifty-Five: The Bed

Chapter 155

The Bed

Tristan and Deimos lay in bed in Tristan’s bedroom that night. Tristan wore silver silk pajamas, and Deimos wore a pair of blue plaid pajama pants. He gazed at Tristan, whose back faced him. He brushed his fingertips against Tristan’s back. Tristan arched his back and shivered. He peered over his shoulder to see Deimos looking at him with sad eyes. Tristan heaved a deep sigh and turned over.

Deimos: “Jaxon doesn’t forgive me, and he hates me.”

He said glumly.

Deimos: “So I guess now you do.”

He hung his head. Tristan drew a long breath.

Tristan: “No, Deimos, I don’t. I never said this road would be smoothly paved.”

His eyelids dipped.

Deimos: “What do I do to get him to forgive me? I didn’t mean any of what I said! It’s stupid Lazaros and the family bullshit!”

He snapped with hurt in his tone.

Tristan: “You can’t make someone forgive you, Deimos.”

He said as he knit his eyebrows. Deimos inhaled sharply and pursed his lips.

Tristan: “And while I have my opinions on Lazaros and what happened between you two, it feels like you’re blaming this on him. Deimos, you said those hurtful things to Jaxon. Lazaros wasn’t present that night, and he didn’t make you say those.”

He said firmly but gently. Deimos looked away.

Deimos: “So I screwed everything up?”

Tristan swallowed hard.

Tristan: “I wouldn’t say that… Give Jaxon the space he needs. Show him you’re truly sorry, and show him by changing. Stop taking your frustrations with Lazaros and your family out on others… We’re not your enemy, Deimos.”

He stated and drew another breath.

Tristan: “And I think… You should face what Lazaros did to you.”

Deimos looked at him, wide-eyed.

Deimos: “What, you want me to apologize to that piece of shit?!”

He snapped. Tristan put his hands up.

Tristan: “I never said that, Deimos… I meant you have to face the fact that Lazaros hurt you deeply and you have to admit it.”

He declared. Deimos gaped at him and then bowed his head.

Deimos wrapped his arms around Tristan and held him close. Tristan embraced him.

Deimos: “It always felt like… it was me versus them. Them, as in my family—my parents and Lazaros. Until I met you, I had always felt so alone in this world. I never had friends, Arnold used me, and then I met you. You were the first person to ever be in my corner.”

He said as his voice cracked. Tristan caressed his hair.

Deimos: “And it feels like because of my frustrations with them, I am pushing away the only people in my corner! It seems like I’m in this self-sabotaging loop!”

He exclaimed. Tristan looked up at him.

Tristan: “It doesn’t always have to be this way, Deimos. You’re not alone anymore.”

He reached up and cupped his cheek, tracing his thumb over it. Deimos gazed into his emerald eyes.

Tristan: “That was then, this is now. You do have people in your corner, but you have to stop taking your frustrations out on others and using them as an emotional punching bag. You have to seek healthier outlets for your frustrations.”

He said gently.

Tristan: “Your past and your issues with your family do not define who you are.”

Deimos smiled at him.

Deimos: “Why do you put up with a failure like me?”

He laughed bitterly. Tristan frowned.

Tristan: “You’re not a failure, and I’m not ‘tolerating’ you; I am loving you. I love you, and I know you can get through this.”

He said firmly. Deimos smiled and kissed his hand. Tristan giggled and bit his bottom lip.

Deimos slid his hands under Tristan’s pajama top and tickled his tummy. Tristan erupted in peals of laughter.

Tristan: “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! DEIMOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOS!”

He laughed, squirmed, and playfully hit him. Deimos smirked and dug his finger into his belly button. Tristan shrieked with laughter.

Tristan: “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!! AAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!!”

He threw his head back laughing. Deimos smiled and stopped. Tristan panted and tried to catch his breath.

Deimos: “And what about Jaxon?”

He grimaced. Tristan heaved a deep sigh.

Tristan: “Give him space, Deimos.”

Deimos: “But what if he sees that as me giving up on him?”

He sighed.

Tristan: “I don’t think he will. Giving someone space is not the same as giving up on them. Jaxon is very hurt, and he needs time to heal his emotional wounds. He will come around. Please be patient and gentle with him…”

He whispered and pressed his finger on Deimos’ lips.

Tristan: “But also, be kind and patient to yourself.”

He nodded. Deimos smiled a bit.

~

The following day, Jaclyn drove her 1959 Cadillac down Juniper Street after having to spend the week in a hotel while her bed was being crafted. She was dressed in a striped black and gold dress with large, round sunglasses obscuring her cold eyes. She parked the car in the driveway and got out.

Jaclyn stormed inside Hector’s house and slammed her purse down on the dining room table. Harry was in the living room reading a newspaper. Hector waved at Jaclyn, grinning inanely.

Harry: “What has you in a good mood for a change?”

He asked wryly.

Jaclyn: “I am sick of being in that hotel with their horrible room service!”

She snapped. Harry rolled his eyes. I was being facetious, he thought.

Before Hector could talk to his father, he made a beeline upstairs to Jaclyn’s bedroom.

Hector: “Jaclyn, I think your bed is here!”

He exclaimed.

Jaclyn: “Humph, well, it’s about time!”

She huffed and followed him.

Jaclyn and Hector met Trevor and Celeste upstairs outside of Jaclyn’s bedroom. Trevor was dressed in a red plaid shirt, blue overalls, work boots, and a yellow hard hat. Celeste wore a navy vest, a black pleated miniskirt, a black studded belt, black sheer stockings, and black ankle strap boots. On her head, she wore a black peaked cap.

Hector: “Look, it’s our workers, Jaclyn!”

He sang.

Celeste: “Hector commissioned the best to make your bed for you, and you want a total loser like Blair.”

She laughed bitterly. Jaclyn’s right eye twitched.

Jaclyn: “Blair is NOT a loser! I will have you know, Missy, that Blair is going to own Donati, Inc. someday!”

She hissed.

Celeste: “Yeah, because his grandfather owns it. Blair will run it into the ground if it means disconnecting Ashley’s power to punish them.”

Jaclyn flipped her hair.

Jaclyn: “By that time, Blair will have a good woman behind him while Ivy continues to chase Tristan.”

Celeste: “You and Ivy aren’t that different.”

Jaclyn flashed her a hot glare.

Trevor: “I dunno, Celeste. Ivy’s feet don’t stink, and she can cook awesome food. I don’t think Jaclyn can really do anything but yell at people.”

He scratched his ass.

Hector: “Donut worry, guys! Ashley is making a special foot odor powder to stop the stink!”

He laughed.

Celeste: “Must be powerful.”

Jaclyn’s face turned beet red as she tightly gnashed her teeth.

Jaclyn: “DO YOU HAVE THE BED OR NOT?!”

She bellowed. Trevor jumped and nodded quickly.

Trevor: “Oh, ah, yeah, right this way.”

He turned the knob on the door and proudly presented her with the bed Hector commissioned him and Celeste to make.

The bed crudely resembled Jaclyn. The head of the bed was shaped like her head with a red bob hairstyle, asymmetrical eyes, and a large, toothy grin. There was a pearl necklace painted around her neck, just above the pillow—large, creepy blue arms wrapped around the bed, connecting to enormous asymmetrical feet. The bed sheets were made from cheap material and a powder blue color. Jaclyn’s jaw dropped. Hector’s eyes sparkled with delight. He clasped his hands together.

Hector: “Trevor and Celeste, you made a masterpiece! I LOVE THIS! This is the perfect bed for my Queen Bee!”

He said as tears of joy welled in his eyes. He looked at Jaclyn, whose mouth was still ajar.

Hector: “SHE… SHE LOVES IT!”

He said joyfully. Jaclyn’s jaw clenched, and her fists tightened into balls of rage.

Jaclyn: “WHAT IS THIS HIDEOUS THING?! I HATE IT! I HATE IT! I HATE IT!”

She screamed, stamping her heels.

Jaclyn: “HOW DARE YOU MAKE A MOCKERY OF MY BEAUTY WITH THIS HIDEOUS THING! I WANTED A QUEEN BED FOR A QUEEN MADE OF OAK COLUMNS, YOU MORONS! THIS IS A SINGLE CHILD’S BED AND A HIDEOUS MOCKERY OF ME!”

She screamed at them.

Jaclyn: “GO BURN THIS DISGUSTING THING AND GET ME THE BED I WANT, HECTOR! NOW! NOW! NOW!”

Hector drew back as his bottom lip trembled.

Trevor blinked.

Trevor: “Hoo-wee, someone didn’t have their pizza today.”

He quipped.

Jaclyn: “Shut up, you fat moron, and GET OUT OF HERE! How dare you mock me with this hideous thing!”

She barked at Trevor. Trevor furrowed his eyebrows at her and pouted.

Jaclyn turned to Celeste with fury.

Jaclyn: “And YOU! You helped make this monstrosity, and you painted that horrible art!”

She pointed at the mural.

Celeste: “And you’re like Ivy.”

She drawled. Jaclyn tightened her fists and screamed.

Jaclyn: “I AM NOTHING LIKE THAT WENCH!!!”

Jaclyn: “Hector, you are NEVER to see or speak to these fat morons ever again! They mocked your queen with this insult of a bed, and that would be a betrayal to me! They should be glad we don’t live in the Middle Ages, as I would have had their heads cut off at the gallows for this!”

She commanded. Hector was overwhelmed with emotions from Jaclyn hating her bed, which he loved, and now she was telling him not to speak to his friends. He broke down crying. Trevor knit his eyebrows.

Trevor: “Oh no, he’s crying! Don’t be sad, Hector! You love the bed and that’s all that counts!”

He sang. Hector sobbed and ran downstairs and outside.

Celeste: “...Ivy used to treat Victor this badly.”

She said slowly.

Jaclyn: “I couldn’t care less how Ivy treats that simpleton father of Tristan’s. The fact is, she wants Tristan when my eye is on better.”

She flipped her hair.

Celeste: “If you think Blair is better, the cheap red dye is seeping into your skull. Ashley told me they didn’t know what a blowjob was, and they know Blair sucks elephant balls.”

Jaclyn turned to Celeste.

Jaclyn: “For your information, Missy, my hair is natural and I wouldn’t take anything that fat girl says seriously! She’s bitter Blair rejected her, is all!”

She scoffed. Celeste shifted her eyes.

Celeste: “Except Ashley rejected Blair.”

She rubbed the back of her neck. Jaclyn clicked her tongue.

Jaclyn: “No one in their right mind would reject a fine specimen like Blair, unless that woman is Ivy! Show your tacky butt out, Missy, and your craftsmanship is terrible and frankly worthy of a man like Tristan.”

She smirked tightly. Celeste grinned like the Cheshire Cat.

Celeste: “Thanks, Jaclyn! I thought you were a total hag until you said my work is worthy of Tristan!”

Jaclyn glared at her.

Jaclyn: “ ‘HAG’?!”

~

Ivy was standing over the stove in the Donati kitchen. She wore a black cheongsam top featuring gold peacock motifs and a black skirt with gold-embroidered peacocks that fell to her knees. Over her clothes, she wore a white apron. She opened the lid and marveled at the Fotiaoqiang she made. She ladled the soup into the insulated travel bowl and secured the lid on top. She placed the bowl in a travel tote and picked Samson up from eating to put him into the stroller. She strapped him in and secured him. She looked around to make sure Blair wasn’t around and smiled.

She slid her feet into black flats with gold peacocks embroidered on them and promptly left.

~

Tristan was lost in deep thought in his office. He wore a charcoal gray three-piece suit, a white pressed shirt, a pale gray and black striped tie, and black wingtip Oxfords. He thought about Jaxon and Deimos’ fight at the concert, which spoiled what was supposed to be a pleasant evening, and sometimes Barnabas Chatrian would invade. He did what he could to not think about him. However, the fact that he had helped Dougal didn’t leave his mind, and he wondered how he would know who Dougal was to Tristan.

Tristan hung his head and gazed at his reflection on the computer screen. The neon green words on the black screen, with his reflection, evoked the image of Tristan being in prison.

He rose from his desk, needing to get out of that office.

He entered his lounge room and saw Rosemary in there on the couch, watching a Hallmark movie. He forced a smile and greeted Rosemary.

Tristan: “Afternoon, Rosemary.”

He sat by her. He withdrew his gold cigarette case from his jacket, took a cigarette out, and lit it up.

Rosemary: “Hello, Tristan! It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?”

Tristan smiled and nodded.

He watched the movie and saw a young man deliver a eulogy at a funeral. The man delivered the speech, and it was peppered with golf puns. “It’s never too late to turn your bogeys into birdies!” “He was un-FORE-gettable at the par-tee!” Tristan gaped at the movie, watching the people laugh, and then thought of Chelsea’s funeral, which had been heartrending.

The next scene had the grandchildren raise golf clubs as the pallbearers carried the casket out. Tristan turned to Rosemary with a look of pain on his face.

Tristan: “Uhm, Rosemary? Do you find the funeral in this movie to be disrespectful and tacky? I know this is a movie, but it gives some of its viewers… ideas.”

He said slowly as he shifted in his seat. Rosemary turned to him with a smile.

Rosemary: “Funerals shouldn’t be sad, Tristan. Just smile and tell a little joke. That’s how the deceased would want it.”

She nodded. Tristan winced. Yes, I am sure that would have gone over smoothly at Chelsea’s funeral after she tragically lost her life being turned into those monsters, he thought dryly.

Rosemary sighed.

Rosemary: “I hope I can make a funeral like this for Mum and Dad.”

Tristan gaped at her. Rosemary sighed again.

Rosemary: “Tristan, I don’t know what to do. Lily is at her wits’ end. She’s crying uncontrollably and had to see a therapist about Borko! Unlike this movie, there is no closure!”

She cried into her handkerchief. Well, that was a sudden mood whiplash, he thought dryly, trying to hide his disdain.

Rosemary: “Tristan, did you find anything at all? You asked Lily and me so many questions about where he was the night he vanished, who he was with, and his connection to this Ichiro Tachibana! Please tell me you found something!”

She locked her beseeching eyes on him. Tristan shifted his eyes.

Tristan: “N-No, Rosemary, my apologies, but I didn’t find anything.”

He said slowly. I don’t care, but I do wonder about his connection to Ichiro, he thought.

Rosemary cupped her mouth.

Rosemary: “What am I going to tell Lily?”

She choked. Tristan heaved a deep sigh.

Tristan: “I don’t know what to tell her, Rosemary. Don’t lose hope?”

He suggested. Rosemary blew her nose on her handkerchief.

Rosemary: “I am trying, Tristan, but this is her first, and you don’t forget your first.”

She nodded and smiled sadly. Tristan looked away, not knowing how to reply to that without hurting feelings.

Rosemary: “And Fen is moving into Pink Top City with his brothel…”

She groaned.

Rosemary: “With all the money at his disposal, you think he would help in locating Borko. Even Ivy’s rich fiancé is not helping! They both know how much this is affecting Lily!”

She cried.

Tristan: “Unfortunately, you have no control over how Fen or Blair spends their money, Rosemary. Also, I cannot imagine Blair wanting to help anyone who isn’t himself.”

He rolled his eyes.

Rosemary: “You’re right. Between you and me, I always felt Ivy was more into that relationship than Blair was.”

She dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief. Tristan looked at her bleakly. Are you sure about that? He thought bitterly.

~

Tristan sat at his desk. I felt more drained talking to Rosemary than I did in here, he thought and rolled his eyes. I couldn’t care less about Borko, and I do believe some irate client killed him but I am curious about his connection to Ichiro and why he withheld this to the apparent “love of his life”, he thought as he cupped his chin.

Someone knocked on his door. Tristan raised his head.

Tristan: “Come in, please.”

The door opened, and Ivy came in wheeling Samson in his stroller. Tristan’s face darkened.

Tristan: “Get out NOW.”

He hissed through clenched teeth and slammed his hands on his desk. Ivy smiled as she unzipped the tote and held up an insulated bowl.

Ivy: “Nihao, airen!”

Tristan: “I told you NOT to call me that EVER AGAIN!”

He snapped. Ivy batted her eyelashes.

Ivy: “Don’t worry, Airen, Deimos won’t hear us.”

She sang. Tristan growled at her.

Tristan: “I know the game you’re playing, Ivy, and I refuse to partake in it!”

He snapped and marched to the door.

As he placed his hand on the knob, Ivy grabbed his hand.

Ivy: “It’s okay, Tristan, I won’t tell Jiro, Celeste, or Deimos who Barnabas is!”

She purred. Tristan froze and locked his hateful glare on her.

Tristan: “Salope! When did you read my mind?!”

He whispered hoarsely.

Ivy: “It took me two days to make this Fotiaoqiang, Tristan! I only do that for you, Airen!”

She purred. Tristan bared his teeth at her.

Tristan: “Get the Hell away from me! I don’t want your goddamn soup!”

He barked.

Ivy: “Tristan, this is delicious shark fin soup! I spent two days making this for you! If you don’t eat it, I guess I will have to tell Deimos you confided in me about Barnabas!”

She smirked. Samson sniffed the soup and tried to break from his bonds to get it.

Tristan: “Works for me. I will tell Blair you were here and spent two days making that soup for me.”

He countered. Ivy sighed.

Ivy: “I can sell Blair any stupid excuse, and he will buy it, Tristan. He’s an idiot, and I can read his little, simple mind. He’s interested in Ashley, and Ashley wants to be with Deimos’ loser brother.”

She said loftily.

Tristan nodded.

Tristan: “All you’re doing is pushing me to tell my boyfriend and my friends before I am ready to discuss it, and you think this will win my heart?”

He scoffed.

Ivy: “You let me read your mind.”

She tilted her head.

Tristan: “Wherever you were, I was unaware of your presence. I should have exercised more precaution since you’re stalking me.”

He said gruffly and straightened his suit jacket. Ivy grimaced.

Ivy: “I am NOT stalking you, Tristan! I happened to be at the restaurant Blair dragged me to while Jiro was whining to you about his problems, and he asked about Barnabas!’

She cried. Tristan nodded.

Tristan: “Ah, so this is how you found out. Go ahead and tell Deimos, Ivy. I’d rather have him find it out this way than to have you emotionally blackmail me.”

He said icily.

Ivy furrowed her eyebrows and raised the bowl to him.

Ivy: “Are you going to eat the soup I spent TWO DAYS preparing for you?! You know, the English name for this soup is ‘Buddha Jumps Over a Wall’ because Buddha would jump over a wall for my delicious soup!”

She hissed. Tristan took the bowl, opened it, and handed it to Samson, who was struggling to reach it. Samson slammed his head into it and began eating. Ivy’s eyes widened, and she sank to the floor sobbing.

Ivy: “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! I MADE THAT FOR YOU, TRISTAN! SAMSON DOESN’T NEED IT!”

She sobbed and pounded the floor.

Tristan: “Go jump over a wall, Ivy. We’re done here.”

He turned around and sneered at her.

Ivy: “Tristan, you will never realize how GOOD you have it! You think a lazy bum will make you happy?! Deimos never made ME happy!”

She wailed. Tristan turned to her, glaring hotly.

Tristan: “You don’t speak for me… and NOTHING makes you happy. I never made you happy either!”

He spat.

Samson had a piece of shark fin hanging from his mouth as he chewed on it. Ivy angrily rose.

Ivy: “If I run into that lazy piece of shit, he can find out Barnabas is—”

Lily opened the door and stormed in.

Lily: “TRISTAN! Did you find Borko?!”

She jumped up and down. Tristan raised his eyebrows.

Tristan: “No, Lily, I haven’t.”

Ivy: “Excuse me?!”

She huffed.

Ivy sobbed when Tristan focused on Lily, leaving her out. She took Samson in his stroller and stormed out.

Tristan: “Good riddance.”

He muttered.

Lily: “Tristan, could I hang up a missing poster of Borko in front of your office?”

She held up a piece of paper with a picture of Borko naked in a bathtub, taped it, and had the following written in crayon, “Missing: Borko Brava, last seen at my sister’s party in April!”

Tristan winced at it and rubbed the back of his head.

Tristan: “Lily, do you have better pictures you could use of him?”

He asked slowly. Lily smiled and zipped open her rabbit plush backpack. She held up a picture of her and Borko having sex. Tristan cupped his eyes and waved his hand.

Tristan: “My apologies for asking, Lily! What you have is perfect!”

He said tersely.

~

Fabien sat at his computer in his bedroom, lurking on the LonelyNiceGuys forum after he came home from his shift. He was still in his work uniform, but had removed his shoes and socks. He came across a thread titled, “I’m sad,” and the post was from “BlairDonati.”

Fabien: “Holy shit, Blair is the gift that keeps on giving!”

He clicked on it and erupted in laughter after he read it.

He logged onto Bungle to see who was online. He saw SmokeShow, RedPepper69, and PurpleLightning. He DMed Jaxon first. Then he DMed Tristan and finally Jordi.

~

Jaxon sat at his computer, smoking and lost in thought. He wore his silk red dragon robe.

SeigneurMonstre: LOOK AT THIS AND LAUGH!

There was also a link to a thread on Lonely Nice Guys. Jaxon clicked the link and read it. It was from “Blair Donati.” Jaxon rolled his eyes and read it.

“I don’t have the energy to smile. There is nothing good about my life. It’s Ashley’s fault. If they didn’t reject me for a loser feeder fetishist, my life wouldn’t be terrible.

I want to cry, but I can’t even shed a tear.

I’ve never felt so miserable and worn out to the point where I ponder existence. My mood and brain feel like what a radioactive detector sounds like.

What makes this worse is that I went to Woolmart at five o’clock in the morning to get The Orb cards before scalpers did. I waited and waited. No one served me because I am not a jerk like Jiro, Tristan, or Jordi. I am surprised Ashley didn’t reject me for those jerks. But Ashley likes them, is nice to them, while they’re horrible to me.

Anyway, someone finally waited on me and told me the cards don’t arrive until Friday at 8:00 a.m. I wasted two hours for nothing.

I am going to sue The Orb and every scalper in existence. I’ll go back to bed, and maybe I will never wake up.

Maybe then Ashley will deliver a eulogy about how much they ‘loved’ me. I am telling you all now, Ashley is a selfish fat loser.”

Jaxon stared at the screen. Why should I care about this loser? He pondered and heaved a deep sigh. He extinguished his cigarette in his ashtray and looked around the vacant room with sadness.

Celeste entered the room. Jaxon’s eyes lit up. He put his arms out. She approached him, wrapped her arms around him, and held his head to her chest. Jaxon closed his eyes and listened to her heartbeat.

~

Jordi was in his bedroom on his computer desk, smoking a cigarette. He wore a denim shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his shirt unbuttoned around the collar, revealing a glimpse of his chest and a gold snake chain, along with dark blue jeans, and was barefoot.

He heard a chime on his computer’s speakers and saw a message from Fabien.

SeigneurMonstre: LOOK AT THIS AND LAUGH!

He included a link to a forum on “Lonely Nice Guys,” and Jordi clicked on it. He knew immediately who it was from before the website loaded, and he read the thread. As Jordi read the thread, his ire began to rise.

PurpleLightning: I know you and others find amusement in Blair’s antics. I can’t. He’s whining about a children’s card game.

He typed as the heat rose to his face.

PurpleLightning: His “woe-is-me and people are so mean to me” is pure bullshit. If anyone is nasty to him and rejects him, it’s because of his awful behavior. It’s warranted. I don’t blame Ashley for not wanting to be with this social parasite.

SeigneurMonstre: Ashley changes his or her gender every second and is a fat waste of space. I think he/she/it belongs with Blair. Then I could laugh at them together! Though I will admit Lazaros is pretty pathetic.

PurpleLightning: No matter how little you think of someone, no one deserves Blair. Blair is a social pariah. People are either sick of him and his bullshit or they’re laughing at him.

SeigneurMonstre: So do you feel like grabbing a burger with me tonight or having a drink with me?

Jordi paused. Maybe I could go out with him for a change of atmosphere and get out of this house of horrors with that tickling grandma and my own grandfather, he thought.

PurpleLightning: Sure, Fabien, I would love that. We’ll meet at Fred’s 50s Diner. Is that okay?

SeigneurMonstre: Ok :)

Jordi rose from his seat and opened his drawer to get a pair of socks. He sat on his bed to slide those on and heard his computer chime. He raised his head to see a message from Tristan.

SmokeShow: Good evening, Jordi. A movie was just released called “Space Spheres.” Would you like to accompany me? If not, it’s fine. I don’t mind going alone.

Jordi rushed to the computer and hastily typed.

PurpleLightning: Sure, Tristan! Would love to! I can pick you up!

SmokeShow: That won’t be necessary. I will be driving myself. Shall we meet at Rose Quartz Theaters?

PurpleLightning: Yes, Tristan! Of course!

SmokeShow: See you soon.

Jordi clicked on Fabien’s name and typed something quickly.

PurpleLightning: Hey, Fabien, something with work came up. Can I take a rain check?

~

Fabien saw Jordi’s message, and his heart sank. Oh, he’s blowing me off again, he thought glumly.

SeigneurMonstre: It’s ok. We can do it later.

He signed off on Bungle and hugged his knees. He looked across the street and saw the lights on at Jaxon and Celeste’s place. Maybe I can hang out with them, he thought, and rose.