Risu frowned. Like a bitter sweet she regretted eating. The song had the same effect in her mouth. It wasn't upbeat, cheerful. No. It was forced, hollow. Her hands dropped to her side, eyes drifting towards Mylo. "Mylo, Do you think Noah will be okay? This friendship song…it feels hollow without him."
Mylo didn't look up. His gze fixed to the blank lyric sheet in front of him. Where ideas normally flowed endlessly, now there just…stopped. He sighed, running a tired hand through his hair. "I'm…not sure, Risu. I just hope he's okay."
She nodded, clinging to the sentiment. Then a wide, cheeky grin broke across her face. "Well, let's just hope Cali doesn't break in his teeth first."
A bead of sweat rolled down Mylo's temple. Not completely disagreeing with the statement.
He knew Cali had a job to do, but he couldn't shake the worry that the challenge deadline would hit before they had a single usable line.
***
With mild reluctance, Cali made her way towards the theatre. Faro had already told her where Jonathan wanrws to meet, but the idea of meeting the douche sat like lead in her stomach. Did it matter why he did it? He still did it? But she had to go on with it anyway. If Faro wanted answers, she'd get them. And a small, very reluctant part of her wanted to know as well.
'Mostly so I could kick his teeth in.' She thought
She found her way to his office and entered without knocking. Inside, the eccentric man sipped tea while classical music played in the background
"Yo." She waved a lazy hand and flopped on the couch adjacent to his desk.
Jonathan set his tea cup down, "Greetings to you as wel,l Miss Rose. Since you're the only one here, I'm assuming I shouldn't be expecting the others?"
"Yup," she nodded, "Just me. So where's the douche?"
"Well, Miss ros—"
"Cali. Miss Rose makes me old, I ain't you you know." of course she couldn't exactly say calling her that reminded her of her mother. She clenched her teeth slightly at the thought of being associated with her.
Jonathan smiled politely, "Very well, Cali. I'm afraid that Mr Stille won't be joining us for this meet up."
"What!" her brows furrowed, "the douchebag ain't coming."
He nodded, "No. Mr Stille has refused to meet any of you. For that, I'm quite sorry."
"For fucks sake." She grumbled under her breath. She couldn't just go back empty-handed. Faro would be devastated. She wouldn't let that happen.
"Miss Cali, how about I offer up a solution."
"Hmm," she glanced at him.
"Though Mr Stille has refused to visit you, that doesn't mean you yourself can't do so." He sipped his tea, "So you can ask the questions you're seeking."
Cali's eyes narrowed at the man. "Now why would you do that? Doesn't it go against some fancy policy or some shit like that." She'd accept the help, but she couldn't shake the feeling he was hiding something. His blatant support for them, especially Faro, had raised her suspicions. She knew he wasn't out for Faro in a bad way, that was important. But the mystery still irked her.
A melancholic smile made its way to Jonathan's face, "I'm simply doing…a favour for a former friend that is all Miss Cali. I assure you I have no ill intentions."
Cali studied him a bit more, before she nodded. "Fine. Whatever."
He slid a small envelope across the desk, "Mr Stille's location…which you oh-so miraculously found somewhere laying around."
She took the envelope and turned to leave. Before she could reach the door, Jonathan's voice sounded once again. This time, it was stripped of his usual playfulness, replaced by a sharp, warning tone. "Cali, please look after Mr Fletcher. There are many snakes lurking around."
Cali glanced back and scoffed at the cryptic message "Then I'll just cut them down. don't need to tell me twice." She waved a lazy arm as she left.
The man smiled at the response. He sipped his tea, his gaze landing on a framed picture on his desk. Three people, a joyous moment that day, but now just a distant, painful memory.
***
It took Cali nearly an hour on foot to reach the address Jonathan provided her. The neighborhood was normal–quite, clean, and certainly better than the dumpster of a neighborhood she lived in.
'I wonder how Faro's place looks like.' The random thought made her pause before she shook it off 'Later. Gotta deal with then douche first, then maybe…'
She passed an ice cream truck, the jingle grating her ears 'I should buy Luca some on my way back, and Faro too.'
Her eyes glanced occasionally at the map as she made her way through the small neighbourhood. Until she finally reached her destination.
The house was a simple two story building. Blue outline and a red roof. A garage to the left of the house, and a broken bike lay abandoned at the driveway of the house. Cali walked up and hammered on the door. "Hey douche bag, open up."
No response.
Cali furrowed her brows. She knocked again, harder. "Hey douche bag, you better open up this door." She was starting to think maybe she got the wrong house, until,
"Go away." The voice was muffled, tired.
"Oi, you don't tell me to go away. Open up. Why'd you enter the comp in the first place, huh?"
"I don't need to tell you anything, now leave." The voice grew distant until she couldn't hear him again.
"Like hell I will." She muttered. She reached into her pocket, removing a hairpain. She'd learn to keep one in case that bitch ever locked her out. The pin fiddled in the keyhole, and seconds later, it clicked.
Cali didn't snort a victory; she recoiled. "Still got it," she whispered, but the putrid smell hit her physical blow. "What the hell is that?" It smelled like rot and neglect–like something wasn't cleaned in months.
Her gaze swept through the hallway, even though she couldn't see quite well, she could make out a little bit. The walls were peeled, the bare concrete showing. Her boots squeaked on a sticky-like substance on the floor. She grimaced, "Please just tell me that ain't, you know what. Let's just find the douche." The sooner she finds him and gets out, the better.
In the living room she found him. The boy was sprawled on the floor, looking like he'd forgotten the word shower had even existed. She was taken aback.
The boy's gaze was fixed on the TV. It was a recorded video. A small boy was playing with his mother, innocent and joyful smiles on their faces.
"You look like shit." Cali couldn't help but say. Shit was an understatement, but she couldn't find any other better word.
Noah broke from his trance and glanced back. "Ugh, I thought I told you to leave. Did you break in?"
"Yeah, I ain't going back without answers. Why'd you ditch?"
He snorted and downed a beer, "You already got the explanation from Jonathan, I entered the competition illegally?" he downed another gulp, "Besides, it's not like you actually care why I did this. Expected Mylo or the other girl, but definitely not you. So just—"
Cali didn't let him finish. She lunged forward, yanking him by his collar. She leveled a glare at the boy, Noah couldn't help but gulp involuntarily as she spoke. "Look, I don't give two flying shits about why you did what you did. But…" she tightened her grip, her glare lethal. "If it has anything to do with Mylo, you better start talking, else me and you will have a very long, very painful talk." She threw him to the floor.
Noah scrunched his nose slightly as he rubbed his head slightly. "You're one crazy bitch."
She snorted, "Not the first time I've heard that. Now start spilling."
Noah sighed, his back leaned on the couch. His gaze stared at the empty air, not focused on anything particular. He downed another gulp from the beer, the bitter liquid lightly burning his throat.
Cali didn't interrupt, just waited.
"Are you aware of who Oliver Snake is?"
She raised an eyebrow, "Am I supposed to know who the fucker is?"
"Well, it's best if you don't." He said. "Famous Business owner. Mainly known for his music brand. Oliver Records. Get noticed by them, well, you're made for life. But what they don't tell you is you're selling your soul with your own blood
"So what, you work for them."
"Hell no, my m…mom did." Tears trickled in his eyes. He shut them, downing another gulp in hope of washing them away, "Now, what happens when you're not useful to an animal? You're slaughtered. Unreasonably high debts, cuts, layoffs." Each word getting harder and harder to say but he continued. "They sell you a dream you a dream and you turn into a damn slave." His teeth clenched the beer can, it crumbled under his force.
"And how's this story concerned with you joining us?"
"Well, here I thought you were smart." He snorted. Cali's jaw tightened, but she held herself back. "Unfortunately for your friend, Mylo has gotten on the radar of this snake."
Cali's eyes narrowed.
"My job was simple," Noah continued, "Get close, disrupt the team and make him susceptible for being offered a jo—"
She socked him. The punch was hard and fast as it sent him backwards. She clutched his shirt again, her knuckles white. "So you mean to tell me you're the piece of shit reason why the team broke in the first place huh. Job done, so you decided to bail huh?! I should beat the shit out of you." She barked, her body shook as she held herself. God she did. She clenched her jaw, her grip tightening with every passing moment.
Noah didn't fight back, he just stared "Yeah, I know."
Cali gritted her teeth before shoving him away.
"I'm a piece of shit, don't need to be told twice." Noah muttered, reaching for another beer, "but seeing how you guys are back together, it seems he didn't take the deal."
"Deal, what deal?!"
"Reynard. Deceptive bastard offered him a job. Hit him when he was weak. But fortunately for him, you guys got back together, so Mylo wouldn't take it."
Cali gritted her teeth.
"Look," Noah hesitated, "I know now you don't even trust a word I say, I won't blame you. But don't let Mylo anyway near Oliver, he's dangerous."
She scoffed, "Don't need to tell me twice." She turned towards the door, pausing at the entrance, "I should kill you, really should. But you're already doing that yourself. And you're right, ain't ever gonna forgive you for putting Mylo in danger for whatever shitty reason you had." She stormed out.
Noah watched her leave. The door clicked shut, plunging the hallway back into sticky darkness. He finished the warm dregs of his beer and lowered his gaze to the TV. The woman playing with the small child. A single tear traced a path down the grime on his cheek.