by Lannah Smith
"What's up?" he asked as he went to the mirror to look at his reflection.
He adjusted his collar and studied his hair. It bothered him for some reason but it being so short, he couldn't do anything about it so he let it be. He removed his piercings but left one earring on his right ear and took off his rings. He smiled at his reflection then quickly sobered as the questions came back to him.
Was he really doing this?
Was he really going to her party?
It wasn't too late to turn back. His own father did not even expect him to show up even though he told him he was coming. Thomas Steele was used to disappointments, which was what his son had become, and was used to hearing John promising he'd come but then bailing out at the last minute.
"I still don't understand why you have to bring me here," Leon muttered.
John grabbed two neckties from the desk and replied, "I thought you'd help me pick a suit from the selection they brought me. But so far, you've been fucking useless. So," he showed him the ties, "Should I go with the gray or the black tie?"
"Why are you asking me?"
John frowned at him.
Why did he even come for if he wasn't going to help him?
He decided to ignore his best friend's uncooperative behavior.
"Black it is," John mumbled, turning back to the mirror.
"All black," Leon observed, sounding disgusted and irate at the same time. "Are you going to a funeral or a party?"
"If I'm going to a funeral, where's Skull going? The zoo?" John replied as he pulled his phone out from his pocket. After a few taps, he half-turned and tossed it to Leon. "Check it. His grandmother actually got him to wear a fucking tuxedo."
Leon grew quiet for a while as he stared at his phone.
Then he burst into chuckles when he saw the angry snapshot Skull sent. The amusement on his face made John smile.
"He looks like he wants to cry," Leon said over Skull's cussing and ranting. "He's coming to pick you up, right?"
"Yep. Do you want to stay and wait? We can have a sleepover just like when we were kids?"
Leon didn't even think about it when he said, "Fuck, no."
Grinning, John draped the tie around his neck and started to tie it.
"So what happened to her?"
"To who?" he asked distractedly, still struggling to knot his tie.
Damn, when was the last time he wore a necktie? He couldn't seem to remember.
"Yukiko."
His hands stilled and he caught Leon's curious expression in the mirror. A sense of foreboding filled the pit of his gut and with a shaky grin, he turned to look at him.
"Why do you want to know?"
Leon shrugged and sat up on the bed. "You wouldn't stop talking about her when we were kids."
Turning back to the mirror, John gave the tie one last tug. "We grew apart. That's all."
"I kind of find that hard to believe."
"You're talkative today," John commented irritably.
"And you're changing the subject," Leon noted.
"Why do you want to know about her anyway? I remember you turning all sulky whenever I brought her up back then."
"Because you still keep the ugly dolls she gave you."
John's eyes sliced to him. Leon was staring at something on one of the shelves in his room and he looked at it.
Ah, shit.
A pair of Japanese kokeshi dolls, male and female, sat on one of his wall shelves, partially hidden from view by his collection of his limited edition and very expensive car models. They were dolls Terry gave to him as a prank when they were children, saying they would give him luck and that he would be luckier if he'd put them in his bedroom where he would be able to see them always. And so far, the only thing the dolls gave him was nightmares when he was a child because of their enlarged heads and lack of arms of legs. But he never removed them.
He wanted to say he forget they were still there when in actuality, he didn't. He was just so used seeing them he didn't even think they didn't deserve to be there anymore.
"They're uglier than the last time I saw them."
"They're not ugly," John snapped. When Leon's eyes went to him, he immediately regretted his outburst and went on in a softer tone, "They're weird-looking, that's all."
"It was because of me, wasn't it?"
John felt his chest compress.
Leon looked at him, nothing on his face but his eyes, fuck, his eyes showed him sadness. Deep remorse.
And vulnerability.
Looking at him, John took a small breath and replied, "No, Leon. I told you—"
Leon didn't let him finish. His eyes grew intense and his voice went quiet when he spoke, "You stopped talking about her when I moved here, John. Actually, the last time you talked about her was a week before... before my old man found me."
"Leon," John sat next to him on the edge of the bed, "It's not because of you, alright? I told you. We just grew apart. I don't even know if her family's still in the city."
"You still kept her dolls."
"I forgot they were even in there."
Leon gave him a dubious look. "John, I may be a neat freak but you're worse. Your nanny used to complain how wasteful you are because you keep throwing away anything you didn't like from your room. She's still clearly important to you if you still keep those dolls."
John looked down his hands and didn't reply.
"If you don't know where she is, you could hire people to look for her. You said she was from a prominent family. You could easily have her found."
"She might not even remember me, Leon," he muttered softly. "It's been years."
Damn it but he hated lying to Leon. But his best friend couldn't know.
"Tell me, then," Leon started and his eyes cut back to him. "Why did you grow apart?"
"I don't understand why you're asking these questions," he returned in frustration. "You never cared about her. You always asked me to stop talking about her. So just drop it, Leon."
"Just answer the question, John."
John sucked in breath and looked away. It wasn't the only reaction he exposed. His muscles had tightened reflexively and he clenched his jaw.
What the fuck was he supposed to say?
That he had to choose?
That he had to fucking choose between them and he chose him?
Leon couldn't know. He was finally getting better. He didn't this shit added to the list of things he shouldn't be feeling fucking guilty about.
Forcibly releasing his muscles, John looked at him.
"We... we had a fight," he said, opting to give him a half-truth.
Leon's expression didn't change when he said, "About me?"
"No," John burst out. "Why the hell would you think that? We were children. Children fight all the time and we were no different. It was years ago, Leon. Let it go."
Leon stared at him without saying a word but John saw his eyes working. He had no chance to prompt him to spit it out or find some way to shut this down because his cell phone rang. Immediately, he grabbed it from the bed, looked at the text on the display and breathed a sigh of relief.
"Skull's here." He patted Leon's leg and stood up. Picking up his suit jacket, he told him, "Let's go."
They didn't speak as they left his rooms and made their way out of the mansion. John was careful to keep his eyes off from Leon. He didn't want him to start asking questions again because he didn't want to keep lying to him. But when they stepped out of the door and he saw Skull's car, he realized he couldn't let this conversation end just like that.
Putting a hand on Leon's shoulder, he turned him around and said to him, "It really wasn't because of you, Leon. I'm telling you the truth, alright?"
Leon's eyes held his for long moments. Then he nodded and went to his car, ignoring Skull's hey. His chest still squeezing the fucking breath out of him, he started for Skull's car.
"John?"
Hesitantly, he stopped and looked back. Leon had an unfathom
able expression on his face while he stared at him.
"You don't lie all that well, you know."
The party hasn't even started but I was already tired.
For almost two hours, I was tugged and pulled, yanked, sprayed and curled. I was treated like a mannequin and when I complained, Miss Annetta wouldn't hear about it. So I just stood there, painfully waiting for them to be finished having their way with me.
It was all worth it though when I saw my reflection in the mirror.
"Oh, you're so beautiful, miss," Julie gushed as I stared at myself with disbelieving eyes. "The dress. It suits you so well."
"Of course," Miss Annetta huffed. "Did you forget that I made it?"
Standing in front of the mirror, I took the full impact of the dress I was wearing. It was a steel blue, semi-sweetheart macramé evening dress with a full skirt. The dress flared out subtly at the train almost like an inverted calla lily, cut so skillfully that my body looked elegant and graceful. The cut of the dress wasn't overly revealing, though there was a barest hint of cleavage. It was sexy but modest enough to make me feel comfortable.
It was perfect and I loved it.
"I think this is my best work yet," Miss Annetta crowed in triumph and I smiled.
Instead of the sleek chignon I normally wore my hair in, my hair was brushed back and fashioned into curls with loose tendrils floating down the base of my neck. In the past, I had always told the make-up artist to apply make-up sparingly but Miss Annetta however had her own ideas. Never had I seen myself with such a flawless complexion, such beautiful eyes, such full lips. I barely recognized myself.
I wonder what Iris would say if she saw me. She had always lamented the fact that I wouldn't stray from my matronly dresses and gowns.
Making a mental note to send Iris a picture, I turned around and made a curtsy to my audience.
"What's with the formalities?" Miss Annetta asked.
"I was just making sure I wouldn't fall out of my dress," I teased as I straightened. "It's wonderful, Miss Annetta. I love it so much."
Miss Annetta sniffed, "If you love it so much then you better start patronizing my work."
I grinned. "I will. I promise. I'll be your number one client from now on."
"I completely agree."
The new voice made the blood in my veins turn to ice.
Taking a steadying breath, I slowly turned around and found myself under Haru's appraising eyes. Before I could recover from the shock of his arrival, he kissed my cheek, even embraced me.
"You look beautiful, sister," he said gently in my ear, playing the role of loving brother.
Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Miss Annetta and her staff take a few steps away to give us some privacy but Miss Anneta's sharp eyes were on Haru and they didn't look happy.
"Thank you, Oniisan," I replied as I stepped out his embrace. "You should have told me you were back."
A hint of a condescending smirk graced his lips. He loved this, the monster. He loved this stupid game he always forced me to play whenever we were surrounded by people.
"I've been back since last night," he informed me. "I would have come to greet you but when I saw how tired you were helping with the preparations, I decided to let you rest."
Lies.
He wanted to surprise me and disconcert me in front of all these people. But he hadn't succeeded and I knew he would try again.
Then he looked at Miss Annetta and said, "Delighted to see you again, Miss Annetta."
Miss Annetta bowed her head, "Likewise, sir. It's been awhile."
"Can we put you on retainer from now as her stylist? I'm permanently designating you the position," his eyes went back to me and they turned mocking, "unless my sister decides otherwise."
My hands curled into tight fists.
"Of course, sir," Miss Annetta provided, giving me a subtle shake of her head, telling me not to fall for my brother's provocation.
Haru stared at me and I forced a tranquil expression on my face. I hated the way he was looking at me, like he was assessing my worth. I didn't have the least idea of what was going on in his mind and it frightened me, not knowing what he was thinking.
"I'll see you below, Terry," he murmured. "Don't be late."
I swallowed and replied, "I won't."
Giving me one more glance, Haru moved to the door and left the room. It was then I noticed I was alone in the room with Miss Annetta. It was then my whole body trembled and it wasn't the only thing. There was also wet trembling in my eyes.
Then I was engulfed in an embrace.
Miss Annetta's arms were tight around me, like she wanted to absorb all the pain I was feeling at the moment.
"Smile, ma cherie," she whispered. "Everything will be alright. Just smile."
I took a deep breath and decided not to think about it now.
Then I forced a smile.
John let out a controlled sigh as he went up the steps. Skull was walking beside him, having been successfully nagged by his grandparents to the event. Needless to say, he wasn't happy at all about his circumstances. John made sure not to stare too long at Skull because it was amusing and unusual to watch him in a suit and his friend might not appreciate his humor.
"I'm not even inside yet but I can tell this party would suck ass," Skull grumbled, tugging at his tie.
John bit his lip so he wouldn't smile. "Maybe it won't."
Skull scowled at him. "You would say that but remember, it's been fucking ages since you last attended the high snobs' parties."
"High snobs?" he asked, amused. "And don't curse, Christopher."
"Please don't tell me you're back to your prissy self again just because you're wearing a suit," Skull muttered with a groan.
His brow rose. "Your grandmother is behind us."
Skull's eyes widened a fraction and he glanced over his shoulder. By then, the both of them were on the entrance of the Evans estate. John took the moment to stare at its facade. An ache beginning in his chest reached down to settle in the pit of his stomach. Realizing it made him sentimental, looking at it, he averted his gaze and took another moment to compose himself.
Damn, but he hoped it wasn't a mistake to come here.
"Let's go over there," Skull muttered, walking ahead first and John took a deep breath before he followed.
They stepped into the foyer and made their way to the ballroom. John tried not to stare too much at the all too familiar surroundings as they walked. The music got stronger as they neared the ballroom and he saw a lot of people had already gathered inside.
The Evans ballroom was like a huge and beautiful inverted fishbowl, circular with a leaded-glass dome overhead. A ring of steps led down to a round dance floor and huge pillars soared to the ceiling. Between these were small round tables that sat no more than four, people, perfect spots for the guests to observe the orchestra stage at the far end of the room and the dancers below. The colors were muted, which made the colorful gowns of the women wore all the more vibrant.
John remembered all the nooks and crannies of this room. He and Terry used to play a lot here when they were children. Sometimes, they pretended to be a pair of dancers, dancing and weaving around the room, or a pair of pompous couple, sneering and mocking at everyone else in the room until they collapsed into fits of laughter.
"Leave it to the Evans to go overboard," Skull remarked when he noticed the crowd of musicians at the stage. "They hired an entire orchestra."
"That orchestra is made up of children and teens under their foundation," John muttered absentmindedly. "Their parties actually help raise funds for various charities, you know."
Skull turned to him with his brows raised. "Really? How did you know that?"
"Mother told me," he lied.
"Well, at least they aren't pretentious like the Fosters," Skull continued to grumble, leaning against a pillar and folding his arms across his massive chest. "Those bastards love to brag about their wealth and their chandelier."
From where they stood, they could easily see the entrance and the entire dance floor. John swept his gaze around, looking for a certain black-haired girl. Her father was talking to a few people across the room. Her brother, Haru, was beside him.