Chapter One-hundred Twenty-Seven: Cherry Cola

Chapter 127

Cherry Cola

Jordi sat at the dining room table, lost in thought. He wore a yellow button-up shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black suspenders, and jeans. The intense tickling tingled his feet and tummy, and it hurt him to laugh now. Abraham folded his arms, pouting. Hannah came out and served the two men dinner. It was ginger pork and peppers over rice.

Hannah: “Good evening, gentlemen! You look lovely today, Jordi!”

She beamed at him. Jordi smiled and eyed her meal.

Jordi: “Thank you, Hannah! Wow, this looks delectable!”

Hannah reddened.

Hannah: “Well, I got the recipe from one of Lazaros Katsaros’ cookbooks!”

Abraham shoved the plate onto the floor, where it smashed, and food was all over it.

Abraham: “I didn’t want this shit. Get me Voyage Burger now, Hannah!”

He growled.

Hannah gaped at Abraham. Jordi sighed and ate his meal.

Jordi: “It’s excellent, Grandpa.”

Abraham: “Jódete! Quiero Voyage Burger!”

He snapped, pounding on the table. Jordi closed his eyes and drew a long breath. I put up with agonizing hours of being tickled for this, he thought as he thrust a forkful of food into his mouth and washed it with water.

~

Jordi sat out on the back patio, reading a book after dinner. He heard the patio door slide and raised his head to see Hannah there. Jordi flashed her a smile.

Jordi: “Hey.”

Hannah: “Hello, Jordi. Did you really like the dinner I made?”

Jordi smiled and nodded.

Jordi: “Of course, I did.”

He said sincerely. He slid a bookmark into his book and closed it. Hannah fiddled with her hair.

Hannah: “Your grandfather is sleeping now.”

Jordi rested his head on his hand as he gazed at her. He could tell something was bothering her, and his grandfather was affecting her more than she realized.

Hannah stepped forward.

Hannah: “Am I doing a good job, Jordi?”

She locked her gaze on him. Jordi nodded.

Jordi: “Of course. My grandfather was like this after he had heart failure and after… my grandmother went missing…”

He said gently, but his tone showed some strain and agitation. Hannah pursed her lips and gazed at Jordi.

Hannah: “Thank you… Thank you for eating the meals I make.”

Jordi: “I love them. Why wouldn’t I?”

He smiled.

Hannah sighed and approached him.

Hannah: “I want your grandfather to get better… He has so much to live for…”

She extended her hand out to Jordi.

Hannah: “You, your grandmother returning, and if he would get back into golf, that, but he seems content sitting around feeling sorry for himself and eating foods that worsen his condition! I just wondered if I am doing enough.”

Jordi listened to her and sighed. He then nodded.

Jordi: “You’re going above and beyond, Hannah… This is…”

He cupped his mouth.

Jordi: “It’s not you… It’s him. He has been like this since the heart failure, and when my grandmother went missing. I agree with what you said, but… I can’t control how he reacts to your kindness.”

He said genially. Then he realized he and Hannah are not so different; both work for deplorable bosses to make ends meet.

Hannah cleared her throat.

Hannah: “Thank you for talking to me, Jordi. Sometimes… I need reassurance.”

She said sheepishly. Jordi nodded.

Jordi: “I think we all do.”

Hannah bit her bottom lip and leaned over to kiss his cheek. Jordi was taken by surprise and reddened a bit.

Hannah: “Your grandfather is lucky to have a kind, caring young man like you.”

She said softly.

Jordi: “Thank you…”

He smiled warmly at her.

Hannah: “I won’t take up too much of your time. I will prepare some chamomile tea before your bedtime.”

She nodded and went inside.

Jordi watched her go and heaved a deep sigh. Sometimes I wish I could quit working for Minerva and try to take up music again, he thought. But after “Sex Bees” sold diamond, the music industry is a joke and no one cares about music but some transphobic asshat singing about how fat and “ugly” some girl who rejected him is, he thought bitterly.

~

Celeste went out to get the mail. She wore a Kreator tank top, spiked collar, jean shorts with a bullet belt, and fishnets.

Inside the mailbox was a pamphlet for “Jaclyn’s Beauty Yoga.” The pamphlet featured a pompous photograph of Jaclyn sitting on a throne, making a smug face. She was dressed in a glittery ball gown with gold and diamond jewelry draped all over her neck and wrists. The cursive text read: “Come to my yoga class where I teach you nothing, and you all just watch and marvel at my wonder!” It looked like an advertisement for perfume rather than a yoga class.

She went inside to Jaxon, sitting on the couch, playing video games. He wore a black button-up shirt with a shiny red vertigo print, the buttons undone to expose his chest tattoo, tight black leather pants, and black sheer socks. He had his feet on the coffee table, crossing his ankles.

She reached down and tickled his foot. Jaxon laughed and kicked his feet.

Jaxon: “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

He laughed and scrunched his feet. She flopped by him and put her arm over him.

Celeste: “Look at what came.”

She showed him the ad. Jaxon paused his game to look at it.

Jaxon: “Isn’t that our bitchy neighbor and Ivy’s rival?”

He asked and glared at the ad indignantly.

Celeste: “The one and only. Wanna come with?”

She smirked. Jaxon sighed.

Jaxon: “No, Deimos and I are going to see Zombie Night. I can go with you another time, babe, but I don’t think you will be doing yoga. I mean, the ad has nothing to do with yoga.”

He laughed.

Celeste unsnapped a few buttons on his shirt and reached to insert her finger in his belly button, and wiggled it. Jaxon laughed and squirmed.

Jaxon: “AHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHA!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

She stopped tickling him. Jaxon panted, put his arm around her, and the two kissed.

~

Tristan and Celeste walked to Jaclyn’s Beauty Yoga. Tristan wore a black tracksuit consisting of a hoodie with three white stripes worn over a dark gray t-shirt, black sweatpants, and black sneakers. Celeste wore a black hoodie crop top with neon purple stripes going down the sleeves, black spandex that came to a little below her knees with purple stripes going up the sides, and black Converse.

Tristan examined the pamphlet as they walked.

Tristan: “Is this really a yoga studio, Celeste? This ad has nothing to do with yoga, and she writes that she teaches us nothing.”

He flipped it over.

Tristan: “We’ll watch and ‘marvel’ at her.”

Celeste: “Then I will teach her how to do yoga. It’s relaxing!”

The two stood before a brick building with graffiti on the side. Tristan looked at the pamphlet.

Tristan: “The address checks out. It doesn’t look like how I imagined a yoga studio to look.”

He muttered.

Celeste: “How would you know if you never went to one?”

She poked his tummy. Tristan drew back laughing.

Tristan: “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

He laughed and waved his hand around.

The two entered and paid a fee of two hundred dollars each.

Tristan: “I never knew yoga cost so much…”

He mumbled.

Celeste: “Me neither. Maybe these yoga lessons are out of this world.”

She kicked off her shoes and nodded at Tristan’s feet.

Celeste: “Shoes and socks off, Tristan.”

She commanded. Tristan reddened.

Tristan: “Oh, dear, are you going to tickle me?”

He bent over to untie his sneakers and take his socks off.

Celeste: “Maybe.”

She wagged her hips.

Tristan: “Oh, golly.”

He sighed.

They entered a large yoga room with hardwood floors and white walls. Celeste set down the yoga mats for herself and Tristan. They knelt on the floor as other men entered. Celeste looked around. No one else has yoga mats? She wondered. She glanced at Tristan’s bare feet as he knelt and used his ponytail to tickle his feet. He shrieked.

Tristan: “WAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! CEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHELESTE! DOHOHOHOHON’T!”

He whined. Celeste smirked and scribbled her nails all over Tristan’s soft soles.

Tristan: “WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!”

He wailed.

Celeste stopped tickling him when Jaclyn waltzed in to face about twenty men sitting down with big shit-eating grins plastered on their faces, and Celeste and Tristan in the back. Tristan panted, removed his glasses to clean them, and wiped his eyes.

Jaclyn wore a bright sequin red crop tank top, black yoga pants, and flats. She wasn’t keen on doing this but she thought she would show these morons the right way to relax. As soon as she entered, several of the men inhaled sharply and moaned as their eyes rolled back into their heads. Jaclyn smiled, satisfied they were taken with her beauty.

Jaclyn: “Hello, and welcome to Jaclyn’s Beauty Yoga! It’s the only yoga class where I teach you nothing and you all just watch!”

She beamed. The men nodded happily. One was rolling over on his stomach and humping the floor.

Celeste raised her hand. Jaclyn scowled.

Jaclyn: “Be warned, Missy, I don’t play for that team.”

She flipped her hair.

Celeste: “Huh? Oh, what pose do you start with first? The cow? The cat? The child’s pose? The warrior?”

Jaclyn sneered at her.

Jaclyn: “Did you not read my ad? I teach you nothing! You all just watch me!”

She scoffed.

Celeste: “Why would I pay two hundred dollars to watch you?”

Tristan: “Celeste, we should go.”

He whispered.

Celeste: “No, I want my money back or my lesson!”

She stomped her feet.

Jaclyn removed her flats, which emitted a potent vinegary, cheesy stench that pervaded the room. Tristan caught a waft of the stink and cupped his mouth. Celeste groaned.

Jaclyn: “These are flats you wear before yoga, I suppose! They’re not fashionable, though. I had to wear these for a couple of weeks to get the gist of this foolishness!”

One overweight white man raised his hand.

Man: “Can I buy them?”

Jaclyn quirked an eyebrow.

Jaclyn: “Why not? They’re suitable for you.”

She said condescendingly. The man’s face brightened.

Man: “Oh, yes, yes, yes! I will pay four hundred dollars for them!”

Jaclyn’s eyes lit up.

Jaclyn: “Ah, splendid!”

I love it, a loser is willing to pay me big money for these ugly shoes, she thought with a smirk.

Celeste: “This lesson fuckin’ stinks and I mean that in BOTH ways!”

She snapped.

Jaclyn: “Why are you here?!”

She huffed.

Man: “Yeah, lady, your feet don’t stink! HERS DO!”

He pointed to Jaclyn.

Jaclyn: “MY FEET DO NOT STINK!”

She bellowed.

Jaclyn sat with her feet up, put one foot in the air, and posed in various pin-up poses. She smirked as the men watched in glee, salivating and getting aroused. Celeste fanned her face.

Celeste: “Fuck, lady, foot deodorizers are a thing!”

She gagged. One skinny white man shot his arm in the air and waved it frantically.

Man: “Jaclyn! D-Do you have other shoes to sell?”

Jaclyn paused and quirked an eyebrow. This fool wants to buy my other shoes, she thought. Their wives desperately need fashionable shoes, and they must turn to me, she thought with a smirk.

Tristan keeled over and vomited on the floor. Jaclyn screamed.

Jaclyn: “HOW DARE YOU PUKE ON MY BEAUTY! GET OUT OF MY STUDIO NOW!”

She barked.

Celeste: “Give us our fuckin’ money back!”

She snapped.

Jaclyn: “I don’t do refunds!”

She flipped her hair. Tristan clutched his stomach.

Tristan: “Celeste, I need to get out of here! This place is making me nauseated!”

He coughed and hacked. The other men snorted.

Man: “Wimp, I could inhale these stinkers all day!”

He put Jaclyn’s rancid flats to his face.

~

Celeste and Tristan left the studio with their refunds after Tristan threatened to sue her for false advertising. They approached a strip mall with a Chinese take-out place called Emerald City.

Celeste: “Want something to eat? My treat.”

She grinned. Tristan examined it.

Tristan: “There’s no place to sit inside.”

Celeste: “We’ll sit on the curb!”

Tristan gaped at her and laughed.

Tristan: “Let’s return home and get changed. I’ll take you to a nice Chinese restaurant.”

Celeste: “Okay, but I am paying.”

She pouted. Tristan nodded.

Tristan: “I agree to those terms.”

~

After Tristan and Celeste had cleaned up, Tristan drove them to the Pearl Lion. He wore a black, double-breasted Italian-cut suit, a blue pressed shirt, a dark blue tie, and black wingtip Oxfords. Celeste wore a tight, form-fitting black dress that accentuated her hourglass figure. It resembled a starry night sky with its shining sequins. Black mesh ran from her neck down her sleeves, and a section of more star-studded black material lined her neck like a collar. On her feet, she wore black strappy heel sandals.

They arrived at The Pearl Lion, an upscale Chinese restaurant in Greammoom Hills. It was a large red building that resembled an ancient Chinese manor, with two xieshan roofs. Two guardian lion statues stood at the circular door, and Chinese lanterns hung from the rim of the lower roof. The place was known for its upscale, classy environment and an everyday all-you-can-eat buffet.

Tristan parked his car. Celeste got out, rolled over the top, and opened the door for Tristan. Tristan smiled and stepped out.

They entered the restaurant. It was a huge dining room with red lanterns hanging from the ceiling, white linen tablecloths on the tables, fine silverware, and a large circular wishing fountain. On the left side of the restaurant was a wall aquarium. Celeste pointed to the aquarium. Tristan approached the host and asked for a table for two by the aquarium. He nodded and led the two there.

Celeste pulled out a chair for Tristan. Tristan thanked her and sat across from him. The host put their menus on the table.

Host: “Can I get you two anything to drink?”

Celeste: “Root beer float with lots of cherries and pralines!”

She chirped.

Tristan: “A glass of sauvignon blanc.”

He nodded and left the two.

Tristan looked at the menu while Celeste gazed at the fish swimming by.

At a nearby table, Ivy sat across from Blair. Ivy wore a long black silk cheongsam with a gold, embroidered peacock going up the side, black heels, and her hair was in an updo with a hairpin through it that had a peacock dangling from it. Blair wore a brown plaid sports jacket that was too large for him, a white pressed shirt, a brown tie, light brown pants, and brown derby shoes.

Blair: “W-Wow, Ivy! You look like a million dollars!”

He stammered awkwardly.

Blair: “...Cute peacocks.”

He added with an awkward smile. Ivy gaped at him. Why do you have to talk? Why didn’t Ashley just choose this loser instead? He’s on their level of failure, she thought.

Ivy: “Thanks.”

She muttered and sipped her champagne. Blair awkwardly shifted in his seat, tapping his fingers at the awkward silence between them.

Blair: “You can order anything you want! It’s my treat, my sweet! I’m a nice guy like that! I want to treat you like a princess!”

He stammered.

Ivy: “Blair, you’re as smooth as sugar.”

She said dryly. Blair smiled widely and blushed.

Blair: “Th-Thank you. You’re as sweet as sugar, Ivy!”

He grinned.

Ivy rolled her eyes and froze when she saw Tristan and Celeste.

Ivy: “What is SHE doing with him?! DO Jiro or Deimos know about this?!”

She fielded scathingly. Blair’s grin crumpled into a scowl when he saw them.

Blair: “They’re being unfaithful! They have no loyalty! Don’t worry, Ivy, I am faithful to you and would never cheat on you!”

He pouted. Ivy rose and marched to their table.

Ivy: “Evening, Tristan… So you stood me up for lunch, but not Celeste?”

She said through a strained smile. Tristan scowled at her. Celeste gaped and tilted her head.

Tristan: “I don’t even want to LOOK at you after the stunt you pulled with Chelsea and at Seashell Cove. If you didn’t do your usual bullshit, Chelsea could still be alive!”

He snapped. Ivy’s bottom lip trembled.

Ivy: “It’s not MY fault that Jiro’s brother is a maniac!”

She cried.

Tristan: “No, but Celeste could have been alert to prevent Ichiro from taking her! But whatever, your competition for your imagined relationship with me is out of the way, and that’s all you care about.”

He said venomously at her, boring his hateful glare on her. Ivy drew back. She couldn’t bear to see Tristan staring at her with such hatred.

Tristan: “You can’t let anything go, can you? And this is why no one likes you.”

He said icily.

Tristan: “We have nothing more to discuss. Whatever we had is done, and we’re done. Enjoy your life; you have to live with what you did.”

He spat.

Ivy turned around to leave them and bawled as she walked away. Celeste rolled her eyes.

Celeste: “She never stops crying.”

Tristan: “After what she did to Chelsea and you at Seashell Cove, I will find a reason to make her cry.”

He said through clenched teeth. Celeste grinned.

~

Jaxon and Deimos were at Rose Quartz Theaters and went into the designated theater to watch Zombie Night. Deimos rose from his seat and left Jaxon to go to the canteen to get some snacks for them.

Deimos’ eyes widened at the prices of the snacks. Fifteen dollars for a large popcorn?! He thought.

When Deimos returned with two large sodas and two large popcorns, he sat by Jaxon.

Deimos: “This place… is the most expensive place in Pink Top City to eat.”

He huffed. Jaxon smirked.

Jaxon: “Wow, I’m lucky you paid for my meal tonight. I must be special.”

He teased. Deimos pouted.

Deimos: “No, you’re not.”

He folded his arms over. Jaxon snorted.

Jaxon: “Whatever!”

He sipped on his soda and raised his eyebrows.

Jaxon: “Did you… get a shot of cherry syrup in this?”

He smirked tightly. Deimos nodded.

Jaxon: “You like me a lot, don’t you?”

He teased. Deimos pouted.

Deimos: “I just remembered you said you liked cherry stuff.”

He muttered. Jaxon laughed.

Jaxon: “Yeah, at five dollars a shot.”

Deimos reddened.

Jaxon leaned back in his seat as the movie started. He reached over, unzipped his boots, and kicked them off, putting his sheer, socked feet on the seats.

Deimos: “Why are you doing that?”

Jaxon: “I want to relax.”

He shrugged.

Two men sat in seats between Jaxon’s feet. They were Shawn and the geek from Jaxon’s party. They caught a waft of peppermint.

Shawn: “Did you get candy canes?”

He whispered.

Geek: “Candy canes are only sold at Christmas, sir. It’s not Christmas! It’s June, sir!”

They turned to see Jaxon’s feet and grinned.

They reached over and tickled his feet. Jaxon’s eyes widened, and he shrieked with laughter.

Jaxon: “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! WHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHT THE FUCK?!”

He laughed and pulled his feet back. Deimos reached over and held his legs so they could tickle his feet.

Jaxon: “DEIMOS! WHAT THE FUCK?!”

He screamed. Shawn and the geek vigorously tickled Jaxon’s soles. Jaxon howled with laughter.

Jaxon: “WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! GEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHET OHOHOHOHOFF MEEHEHEHEHEHEEHEHEHEHEHEHE, YOOHOHOU F-FUCKING IDIOHOHOTS! WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

He laughed hard and threw his head back as tears welled in his brown eyes. Shawn pulled off Jaxon’s socks and sniffed them.

Shawn: “These smell like peppermint! I got someone else’s stinky socks! These don’t stink!”

He said gleefully and tickled Jaxon’s bare feet.

Jaxon: “WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA FUHUHUHUHUCKERS! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

He laughed hard and struggled to get free.

Deimos grinned and tickled behind his knees as the two men tickled his feet. Jaxon’s laughter filled the theater.

Jaxon: “AAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP! FUHUHUCK! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

He laughed between ragged breaths as tears streamed down his cheeks, and his face was red.

The theater turned its attention to them as if they were the movie. Someone with a flashlight approached them, dressed in a ruby red uniform.

Movie concierge: “HEY! Excuse me! We’re going to have to ask you to leave! You’re disrupting the cinema!”

He interjected.

Geek: “Distracted by sexy!”

He wheezed.

~

Jaxon and Deimos stood outside the movie theatre. Deimos lit up a cigarette. Jaxon put his socks and boots back on and glared at Deimos.

Jaxon: “I can’t believe you, man! How could you?”

He pouted and zipped his boots up.

Deimos: “Hey, you said you were special.”

He shrugged.

Jaxon: “I am!”

He pouted and blew a raspberry.

Deimos: “How about I buy you dinner?”

Jaxon laughed.

Jaxon: “You’re spoiling me.”

He teased. Deimos pouted.

Deimos: “No, I’m not.”

~

Deimos and Jaxon met at Fred’s 50s Diner, a 50s-themed diner in downtown Pink Top City. It was a medium-sized diner with pastel pink walls decorated with records and posters of 50s bands. The floors were checkered tile. There were white tables with red chairs and stools at a chrome countertop where they made old-fashioned sodas and milkshakes. There was a jukebox playing hits from the 50s.

Deimos approached a table and pulled out a chair for Jaxon. Jaxon chuckled and sat down. Deimos sat across from him. He looked at the menu. Just burgers and fries, huh? He thought. He looked again and saw they had onion rings, hot dogs, and clubhouse sandwiches. Jaxon took out his cigarette. Deimos withdrew his lighter and lit it for him.

Jaxon: “Thanks, man.”

He smirked and inhaled a long drag.

An old, dumpy waitress approached their table. She looked like a burned-out caricature of Doris Day.

Waitress: “What do you two handsome men want?”

She drawled. Deimos gaped at her. Is she talking to me, too? He wondered. Jaxon chuckled as he watched Deimos’ confusion.

Deimos: “Ah, two orders of double bacon cheeseburgers loaded with extra pickles and jalaneños peppers on both and fries on the side. Professor Pepper for both of us.”

She jotted their order down.

Waitress: “Is this on one bill?”

Deimos: “Yes, I’m paying.”

He replied.

She left them, and Jaxon grinned tightly at Deimos.

Deimos: “What?”

He blinked.

Jaxon: “I am so special to you.”

He teased. Deimos pouted and reddened. The waitress returned with their Professor Pepper sodas in tall glasses with whipped cream and cherries on top. Deimos raised his eyebrows. The waitress left again. Jaxon reached over and stole his cherries.

Deimos: “HEY!”

He huffed. Jaxon laughed and popped them into his mouth.

Deimos: “I wanted those!”

He pouted and sipped his drink.

Minutes later, the waitress came out with their food and placed it in front of them. Jaxon rubbed his hands together and grinned. He smirked at Deimos and began eating some of his fries. Deimos glared at him.

Deimos: “You really are her soulmate.”

He huffed. Jaxon grinned and reddened.

Deimos reached over and took the pickles from his burger.

Jaxon: “HEY! I wanted those!”

He slapped his hand. Deimos reached under the table and squeezed his knee, causing Jaxon to jolt and laugh.

Jaxon: “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! DOHOHON’T!”

He whined. Deimos munched on his pickles and grinned.

~

After the two men ate and Deimos paid for the meal, they left the diner and went to their cars. They heard a loud engine roaring down the road, and a purple Lamborghini Countach sped past them. Deimos looked uneasy. Jaxon glanced at him.

Jaxon: “Are you okay, man?”

Deimos glanced at him and forced a smile.

Jaxon: “You can talk to me. Did I do something wrong?”

He knit his eyebrows. Deimos shook his head.

Deimos: “It’s not you. Don’t fret.”

Jaxon smiled a bit.

Jaxon: “Then it’s that Lambo, right? Someone you don’t like driving it?”

He hooked his thumbs into his pants.

Deimos: “I only know one person who drives a purple Lamborghini… and that’s one way to put it.”

He drew a long breath.

~

Ilias sat at the end of the conference room table. He wore a black pinstripe double-breasted suit, white pressed shirt, red tie, and black Italian loafers. Minerva, Ichiro, and Stefano sat on each side of the table.

Minerva: “How was the wedding, Ilias?”

Ilias frowned.

Ilias: “Let’s discuss important matters, shall we, Minerva?”

He forced a smile. Ichiro rolled his eyes. I don’t care about this, he thought. What does this have to do with me? He wondered.

Stefano waddled over to Ilias with a sheet.

Stefano: “This is what Ichiro and Minerva are wasting while pursuing Celeste and Jaxon!”

Minerva rolled her eyes.

Minerva: “What on Reona do you mean, Stefano? I am not wasting company funds or using them to fetch my little etheressum.”

She scoffed. Ilias crumpled the paper up and threw it in the waste bin. Stefano gaped at him. Ilias folded his hands and locked his glare on Stefano.

Ilias: “Before you chide others on ‘wasting company funds’, do you realize how much the cleaning bill amounted to to clean that loft where you host dumb and dumber?”

He said firmly. Stefano gaped at him.

Ilias: “We needed ten maids to clean that loft, Stefano. Those two live like pigs!”

His voice rose. Stefano blinked.

Ilias: “I ought to make a sheet like you did, outlining how you’re wasting company funds!”

He snapped and waved his hand. Stefano furrowed his eyebrows.

Ilias: “Sit down, Stefano. Not another word from you.”

He snapped his fingers and pointed to his chair. Stefano glared at Ichiro and Minerva as he sat down, muttering obscenities under his breath.

The doors swung open. Ilias rose.

Ilias: “Excuse me, there’s a meeting—”

He stopped when a young Greek-American man stepped into the room.

His wide, smug grin was the centerpiece of his face. His sharp, aquiline nose was like an arrow pointing down at it. He wore his blue-black hair in a mullet style with bangs over his violet eyes, and a swarthy complexion. His clothes looked fresh from the dry cleaners, not a stain in sight on the white and pastel ensemble. His neck, wrists, and fingers were covered in gold and purple-studded jewellery. A big gold chain wrapped around his neck, amongst his large collar, and he wore a rose gold wristwatch. He was 26-year-old Vasilos Megalos, Ilias’ son and Deimos and Lazaros’ cousin.

Ilias: “V-Vasilos?! What are you doing here, son?”

Vasilos pulled out a chair and put his feet up on the table.

Vasilos: “I want everything from Andrew GONE from my home! I want no scrap, no stink, no hair, NO NOTHING from my home!”

He spread his hands out.

Ilias: “Of course.”

He said meekly.

Stefano raised his eyebrows. Vasilos turned to him with a scowl.

Stefano: “Ah, so there was no wedding.”

Vasilos: “Yeah, no shit, you fat fuck!”

He barked at him.

Vasilos: “Why do you think I am back here telling Dad to get rid of Andrew’s bullshit?! Because I like to hear myself talk? I’m not a blowhard, nah, that would be your fat ass!”

He snapped at him. Stefano glared hatefully at him and Ichiro, who cupped his mouth to stifle his laughter.

Vasilos rose and dusted himself off.

Vasilos: “I guess I am on the market again and the sooner I find another man, the better it is and Andrew will be VERY fucking sorry he dumped me at the altar!”

He hissed before he stormed out of the conference room. Minerva chuckled.

Minerva: “Maybe you should turn Andrew into a richonoid, Ichiro. You certainly did me a favor with Armando.”

She teased. Ichiro rolled his eyes. Stefano glared hatefully at Minerva and Ichiro. You both will pay for this, he thought as his fury soared.

~

Vasilos drove through Quffolwed Garden; he turned off the main road and went down a side road with no houses.

Eventually, he reached a hidden entrance to his mansion and approached a tall brick wall about ten to twelve feet high.

Vasilos pressed a button by the sun visor above him, and the wall began to open. It revealed a lavish cobblestone driveway curved upward, and he drove up it.

He approached the vast Romanesque mansion. Over the windows were round-topped arches, an entryway, and gold masonry siding.

As he drew closer, he could see the immaculate and gorgeous gardens and fountains, the statues and benches, pristine lawns, and many trees.

He pulled up to the front and parked his car. Vasilos stepped out and approached the door, where a tall, lean white man in a butler’s uniform opened the door for him.

Vasilos: “Park my car in the garage and don’t put on any of your shitty music.”

He spat.

The entryway had a gold marble floor, and ivory statues of Ilias Megalos were on both sides of the dark marble walls. Above him was a large crystal chandelier, and ahead of him was a curved stairway with the steps and balustrade matching the marble flooring. There were paintings and tapestries everywhere—usually of Ilias, his late wife, Vasilos’ mother, Evangelina, and Vasilos himself. Evangelina was a slender, sickly-looking Greek woman.

Vasilos saw one of the maids using the elevator and took the stairs to his father’s office.

He walked down the long corridor. Paintings of the family and tapestries were spaced on each side of the wall, as well as pedestals of busts of Ilias.

He went close to the end and turned to the left, and turned the knob and entered the office. It was a large, sprawling office with walls of bookcases on each side. At the end of the office was a large, executive oak desk with a computer, fax machine, printer, lamp, and phone. Adjacent to the desk was a large ivory statue of Ilias naked. Behind the desk was a large window overlooking the vast, sprawling backyard. In front of the desk were two leather chairs and a red Turkish rug.

He strolled over to the window to look out. He gazed down at the Olympic-sized swimming pool and the tennis court. There was a cabana with tables under the roof, a barbecue area, and a large hot tub. Redwood tables with yellow and white umbrellas surrounded the pool area. To the far left was a lake with swans, a bridge, and two paddle boats.

Vasilos left his father’s office, went to the end of the hall, and turned to the right. He entered a large, sprawling bedroom with purple marble walls and floors. In the center was a king-size platform bed with a dark purple bedspread. Gold lighting outlined the platform bed, and above the bed was an oval gold dome with a glass ceiling.

On each side of the bed were dark purple nightstands with gold trim and gold lamps, the bases of which were bust sculptures of Vasilos. Hanging above the bed was a portrait of Vasilos lying naked on a lounge and posing seductively.

Large mirrors lined the walls on each side of the room. Vasilos fixed his hair in the mirror, grinned, and shot a fingerbang.

Vasilos: “It shouldn’t be an issue to replace Andrew. Any man would want a hunk like me.”