Chapter 8
Nuklear Intoxikation in Pink Top City
Down Beach Cliff Road was a white weatherboard house with a terracotta roof. Cacti and empty beer cans adorned the front lawn.
A tall, muscular lantern-jawed Latino man sat perched upon a raised sofa, resembling a throne, and gazed out the large bay windows at the empty road. He had a mane of blond curly hair, light olive green eyes, and a nose ring on his right nostril. He had a spot on his right cheek and another on the front center of his neck. A nuclear symbol and skull tattoo were on his right bicep, and a bass treble clef was on his left hand. He was dressed in a denim vest with sleeves torn off, a white t-shirt with “Nuklear Intoxikation” on it, torn dark jeans, and brown construction boots. He is Craig Carvalho-Medeiros, the 25-year-old founder, lead singer, and bassist of Nuklear Intoxikation. He had a forlorn look in his eyes as he gazed at a small picture of himself with Andreas.
He looked back out at the backyard. A wooden stage was set up with lights and speakers. He recalled the many times he, Makayla, Kurt, and Andreas would jam on that stage. He recalled the birthday party he had and the last time he saw Andreas. All of that is now being left behind today. Everything is packed onto a truck to go on a plane to ship overseas. Nuklear Intoxikation is beginning a new chapter today.
A chubby Latina woman standing at five feet and four inches entered the living room with a guitar case containing her Flying V. She had a round and chubby heart-shaped face with three freckles under each eye, a medium refined nose, olive-green eyes, and long lashes and lower bold lashes. Her deep Byzantium purple hair was wavy and navel length with short layers cut into it in a mullet style and her bangs were swept to the right side of her face. She was dressed in a light denim jacket, a white shirt with “Nuklear Intoxikation” on it, a light denim skirt, and black high heels. She wore several silver bracelets on her wrists and earrings on her ears. She is Makayla Carvalho-Medeiros, the guitarist and backup vocalist of Nuklear Intoxikation.
Makayla knit her eyebrows.
Makayla: “It’s a big move, Craig…”
Craig: “It’s for the band, Kayla! I just need a sec to look around the house. Wait for me.”
He said harshly and Makayla looked hurt.
Craig wandered around the house with the memories of their parties, performing, and… being with Andreas. The fact that this chapter is about to close makes Craig’s heart ache more than he lets on. He closed each bedroom door. He was leaving his old house and memories behind, including Andreas as he closed his bedroom door before leaving for the last time.
Craig put on his Rayban sunglasses to obscure his eyes as he left the premises and stepped into the moving truck.
Makayla: “I would like to say goodbye to Ashley…”
Craig: “NO! You leave that fatty behind, Kayla! He ain't no good!”
He spat and folded his arms over tightly.
Makayla: “But I am not going to see him again!”
She cried.
Craig: “So?! We’re headin’ to the big US, Kayla! You’ll find better blokes there than that fat fuck and his clown cunt boyfriend!”
He huffed.
Makayla: “You don’t know Ashley!”
She snapped back through hot tears.
Craig: “I know enough and you’re better off without ‘im!”
He fired back. Makayla embraced herself and did not want to argue with him. Her emotions were high and she knew she was fighting a losing battle. All I wanted was to see Ashley one last time, she thought. Maybe if I call him on the airport payphone, she mused. She brightened somewhat when she thought of that.
~
The truck arrived at the Selene Valley International Airport. The Nuklear crew stepped off the truck with their luggage to make their way to the private jet Basilia Flores hired. They met with a tall, white disgruntled muscular lantern-jawed woman. She glared at them through her lime-green eyes. She had her black hair up in a ponytail and had a red headband on her head. On her left bicep was a skull tattoo that had a “THRASH” sailor's cap on its head. She was dressed in a dark gray crop top, bullet belt, black tights, and white high tops. On her hands were black weight-lifting gloves. She is 29-year-old Veronika Wood, the rhythm guitarist of Nuklear Intoxikation. Her father, Randall Wood, is sponsoring her bandmates to emigrate to the US—her birth country and homeland.
Veronika: “Where were you?!”
She barked. Craig bowed his head.
Craig: “Sorry, V. Had to lock up the weatherboard rental.”
He muttered. She glared at him through narrow slits.
Veronika: “Where is Makayla?”
She challenged. Craig snapped out of his daze and swerved his head to look for Makayla.
Makayla was despondent as she looked out the window to see the plane take off. In an hour, she was boarding a plane to go to another country, another continent. She had to see Ashley one last time. She picked up the payphone and slid a coin in the slot before dialing Ashley’s number.
~
The phone rang at a green weatherboard house with a broken moss-stained picket fence. Weather and time had eroded the old weatherboard; paint chipped in places, and fragments of the roof above the patio were falling off. In the driveway, was a Kingswood Station wagon. On the side of the house was a garden of vegetables with a brown chicken trotting around.
Someone lay asleep in bed. They had olive tan skin and long ombre hair draped over their bulbous nose and round face. Tufts of hair resembling cat ears were perched on the top of their head, and their cat-like mouth added to their feline characteristics. They had soft and delicate features that could be considered both feminine and masculine or neither. Their pajamas had paisley and cat faces all over them and clung tightly to their plump physique.
They lay in a queen-size hardwood bed, wrapped in a green paisley comforter that matched the curtains. Tiny pots of rosemary, mint, thyme, and sage sat on the window sill, basking in the sun and looking out onto the growing garden in the backyard. Various crystals, feathers, and cat ornaments were around the room, along with a purple lava lamp on his bedside table. A handmade wreath with crystals and bells hung on the door and a dreamcatcher hung from the ceiling.
The door swung open. A swarthy Italian man whose dark brown hair was styled in an undercut entered the bedroom. He had an oval-shaped face, peacock blue eyes, a chin puff goatee, an eyebrow piercing, and three-lobe piercings on his ear. He was dressed in a Persistence Pestilence shirt, dark torn jeans, and black Doc Martens boots.
Man: “Ashley, you’re wanted on the phone.”
Ashley scrambled out of bed.
Ashley: “Who is it, Blake?”
Blake: “Makayla.”
He grumbled.
Ashley rushed to the kitchen to pick up the phone.
Ashley: “Hello?!”
Makayla: “Ashley?”
Ashley felt their spirits lift when they heard Makayla’s voice on the other end.
Ashley: “M-Makayla! Nice to hear from you!”
They chuckled awkwardly. Makayla sighed and Ashley could hear the dejection in her tone.
Ashley: “Wh-What’s wrong?”
Makayla: “...Randall Wood sponsored my band to go live in the US.”
She finally said. Ashley felt their heart sink. Their feelings for Makayla were cultivated but they also did not want to stall her dreams of making it big with Nuklear Intoxikation.
Ashley: “A-All right, I hope you make it big. I’d like to see you one last time.”
They said through a strained smile trying not to cry.
Makayla: “Ashley, I don’t know if this is possible. I’m going to take off in an hour.”
She said somberly. Ashley shook their head and shut their eyes tight.
Ashley: “I can make it!”
They insisted. Suddenly, they heard a click and the hum of a dial tone. Their shoulders slumped as they felt tears trickle down their cheeks.
Craig slammed the receiver into its cradle.
Craig: “You ain’t seein’ that fat cunt, Kayla! Let’s go!”
He snapped at her. Veronika crossed her arms and smirked.
Veronika: “Too bad… So sad…”
She taunted. Makayla glared at them and stormed off.
Ashley: “I-I have to see M-Makayla… before she goes to the US!”
They sobbed and wiped their eyes. They went to the other room neighboring theirs. They opened a bedroom with pink light illuminating it. It had pink wallpaper, loud, garish clothes, and old food covering the floor. There was a TV playing American Pizza and a mattress where a skinny orange man with a mop of bleached blond hair lay. He had a diamond-shaped face, moss-green eyes, a pointed nose, and pouty lips. He was dressed in a pink sequin vest exposing his bare orange chest, blue leopard print spandex pants, and pointy white cowboy boots that looked more like clown shoes.
Ashley: “M-Maxx?! C-Can you come with me?! Makayla is leaving to go to the US and I want to see her off!”
They cried. Maxx scrambled out of bed. Maxx’s BO assaulted Ashley’s nostrils and they squeezed their nose.
Maxx: “Anything for my bestest buddy, A-Rad! McKayla gotta see what a cool cat I am by taking you to the airport!”
He nodded and rose pointing to himself with his thumb. Ashley’s cerulean eyes sparkled.
Ashley: “Thank you, Thank you!”
They beamed, grabbing their keys and rushing off. Maxx followed them and got into the car.
Maxx: “When we tell ‘er to stay with you, we can hit da clubs! OHWWH!”
He called out.
Ashley: “Sure, dude!”
They forced a smile. They didn’t enjoy the kinds of clubs Maxx wanted to go to, but Maxx was doing them a huge favor.
~
Makayla boarded the plane and took one last look at Selene Valley. Goodbye, Australia, she thought as she took her seat in the private jet. She took her seat and sat far away from Craig. As the jet was heading to take off, they fastened their seatbelts.
Craig: “Another bloke is waitin’ for ya back in Pink Top, Kayla. One who is a REAL bloke!”
He huffed.
Veronika: “Maybe he has a fat fetish.”
She quipped. Craig shot Veronika a glare. Makayla put her headphones on and turned her back away from them. Veronika laughed at her for crying.
~
Ashley and Maxx arrived at the airport and dashed through it.
Ashley: “Makayla?! Makayla?!”
They cried. When they saw the jet take off into the air, they sank to the floor sobbing, feeling their heart shatter into many pieces. Maxx patted Ashley’s back.
Maxx: “Donut worry, A-Rad! With your cool cat buddy here, you will get lots of pus-say in no time! Leave it to me! Let’s go to da video library and watch American Pizza! OWWWWH!!”
He shot his fist in the air. Ashley was too upset to speak.
Ashley: “Y-You’re taking me to get more cats?!”
He gasped.
Maxx: “Pffft, no way, A-Rad! Dat’s for lame old ladies! You will get a lady babe but ya gotta share her with me ‘cause I’m Maxxy Malone of Sex Beest!”
He nodded.
Ashley: “Oh… “
They just frowned and sighed. They didn’t know if they wanted to do poly, let alone with him. They didn’t see Maxx that way.
~
The next day, the private jet with the Nuklear crew flew over Pink Top City and landed. Makayla fluttered her eyes. She hoped it was a nightmare and she would wake up to see Ashley. She saw Veronika pouting at Craig for snoring. She shoved him waking him out of his slumber.’
Veronika: “GET UP! We’re finally out of that hellhole and back home!”
She snapped. Craig’s eyes snapped open and he yawned.
They got off the jet and headed to the airport. A Latino man with an oblong face stood in the terminal holding a “NUKLEAR INTOXIKATION” sign. He was dressed in a purple leisure suit with a black dress shirt unbuttoned down to his chest exposing his large gold chain and the sleeves to his shirt and jacket were rolled up to his elbows. He had a gold Rolex watch, a thick bracelet on each wrist and black wingtip shoes on his feet. He wore his black hair slicked back and swept to the left. He was The Flores’ concierge, Vicente Guerra. Craig waves at him. Vicente removed his glasses exposing his dark brown eyes.
Craig: “G’day! We’re Nuklear Intoxikation and we’re wicked sick!”
He said doggedly.
Vicente: “I’m Vicente Guerra! Señora Flores is overseas right now but I will be your concierge!”
He nodded at them.
Vicente: “We’ll get your things in the van and get you all headed to where you’ll be staying.”
He clasped his hands and rubbed them together.
The Nuklear crew got into the limousine on their way to the Flores Hacienda.
Vicente: “I notice you look sad, young lady. Something wrong?”
He asked Makayla. Craig scoffed.
Craig: “She’s sad she’s leaving behind that fat cunt. It’s for the best, Makayla. He’s a fatty and he hangs off that clown.”
Makayla glared at him through dark slits.
Makayla: “Ashley is not like that!”
She snapped. Vicente grinned.
Vicente: “Don’t be sad, young lady! Pink Top City is full of many men waiting for you! Every chance is a new opportunity! By the time, you meet some, you will have forgotten Ashley.”
He said ecstatically.
Makayla: “You don’t know what Ashley is like or what I want!”
She spat. Craig furrowed his eyebrows at her.
Craig: “You don’t need that fatass, Kayla! I said so! It’s for your career!”
He said firmly.
Makayla: “And Veronika is hurting our band! Leave her! It’s for your career”
She countered.
Craig: “I ain’t kickin’ V OR leavin’ her!”
He fired back. Vicente frantically waved his hands.
Vicente: “Please, no arguing! We’re here for a good time! Let’s enjoy it, shall we?”
He forced a smile.
Vicente was relieved when the limo drove down Angel Boulevard and arrived at the Flores Hacienda. A large gate surrounded the place. As it approached the gate to enter, Vicente reached over to swipe his card and the gates opened allowing them access. It was an enormous pale yellow hacienda with a terracotta roof. Palm trees adorned the pathway to the mansion and a huge circular water fountain was in front. Attached to the house were five garages and in the back was a huge pool area with a jacuzzi. Neighboring the pool was a gated park area with several dog toys, bowls, and two dog houses. Craig lit up when he saw the Australian Cattle Dog in that area chewing on a toy.
The limo drove up the marbled driveway and parked at the entrance of the right side where two butlers and a maid stood. Vicente stepped out with a wide grin on his face.
Vicente: “You’re going to love it here! We got an outdoor pool, an indoor pool, a personal gym, a tennis court, and a movie theater!”
He listed off the amenities the hacienda had. It was like a five-star hotel, Makayla thought. It was nothing like they were used to, she pondered.
Craig: “What about the doggos, mate?”
He pointed to the gated dog area.
Vicente: “The Australian Cattle Dog belongs to Basilia’s twin sons, Sebastian and Santiago. His name is Chico! They also have a yellow labrador retriever puppy named Amarillo!”
He replied enthusiastically. Craig finally smiled, eager to play with the dogs.
Craig: “That’s wicked sick, mate!”
They entered the guest wing and were greeted by a large foyer with a circular staircase leading upstairs. On the left was a huge living room with a large couch and two couches adjacent to it facing a big screen TV with a VCR and Kentendo hooked up to it. There were potted palm trees on each side. There was a kitchen and dining room down the hall. The kitchen had an island, a large stainless steel two-door fridge, and two stoves, and the dining room had a table with two candelabras on it and two large crystal chandeliers hanging above it. The backyard had a pool with a jacuzzi, a bar, and adjoining that, the tennis court. On the right side of the hall was a personal gym with a medicine ball, treadmills, weight-lifting machines, dumbbells, and a sauna. Craig and Makayla were astonished to see all this. They were not used to such luxury.
Veronika: “I won’t be staying with you guys. I’ll be back at home with my dad, my lame brother, and his lame butt buddy, Bobby.”
She said acidly.
Vicente led them upstairs to their own bedrooms. There were two rooms on each side of the hallway and a door leading outside to a sprawling balcony with lounges, tables, and a beautiful view of Quffolwed Garden—the neighborhood they reside in. Each bedroom is a large spacious bedroom with a queen-size bed, a walk-in closet, a personal bathroom, and a TV. Each bathroom was large and had its own walk-in shower, two sinks, a toilet, and a bidet. Craig sat on the bed with the red plaid bedspread.
Craig: “I call dibs on this!”
He called out. Makayla entered the room with the purple paisley pattern bedspread and thought of Ashley.
Makayla: “I want this.”
Vicente: “Perfect! It’s so you!”
Makayla forced a smile.
They went downstairs and sat in the living room. Vicente appeared before them.
Vicente: “And I have another surprise for you! Your new drummer!”
He put his hands out and smiled. Craig eagerly rubbed his hands together.
No one came out and Vicente forced a smile.
Vicente: “Uh, drummer?”
Tristan entered the room dressed in a black suit, purple pressed shirt, dark purple tie, and black wingtip oxfords. Craig scoffed.
Craig: “THAT’S our drummer?! He’s wearin' a fuckin’ suit! We’re a thrash metal band, not a fancy-pansy wedding band!”
Tristan glared at Craig. Makayla rolled her eyes at Craig.
Makayla: “Who cares what he wears, Craig!”
She hissed at him to shut up.
Tristan: “Oh, I knew the red flags surrounding this band were great but it seems I underestimated the number somewhat.”
He scoffed. Craig gaped at him.
Craig: “Red flags? Our logo is green!”
He laughed.
Tristan: “Do not push me.”
He warned him.
Tristan: “For the record, I am knowledgeable on metal and am a fan of the genre.”
Craig gave him a dubious look.
Craig: “Go on then, name five bands! REAL metal, not that poser glam shit!”
He challenged him. Tristan nodded.
Tristan: “As you wish, Testament, Exodus, Flotsam and Jetsam, Overkill, and Heathen.”
Craig’s jaw hung open.
Craig: “...No fuckin’ way!”
His demeanor towards him immediately shifted and he looked at him like a piece of meat.
Tristan: “Yes, as I said, I am a huge metal fan… and I’m not the drummer.”
He stepped aside to let Deimos enter. Deimos was dressed in a Possessed Pestilence tank top, torn jeans, black cowboy boots, and a leather jacket. Craig fixed his gaze on him next.
Deimos: “I am. This was a test Tristan wanted to do.”
He said evenly. Tristan smirked and Deimos looked up at him, smiling.
Deimos: “I’m Deimos Katsaros. I’m going to be your new drummer. This is Tristan Trémaux. We’re very… close.”
He smiled. Craig pouted and his expression soured. Makayla looked over at Craig and rolled her eyes. Here we go again, she thought to herself.
Deimos: “So… I heard your drummer before I quit. Why did he?”
He asked them. Tristan wasn’t going to let on that he was speaking with Andreas to them but he told Deimos about it before they met.
Craig: “He was a stick in the mud! He never wanted to have any fun!”
He claimed. Makayla gave him a look.
Deimos: “That’s vague. Is it a thrash band or a party band?”
He challenged him.
Craig: “Both!”
Deimos and Tristan both look unimpressed.
Tristan: “So, I went to a music store to buy an album… and couldn’t. Why is that?”
He challenged. Craig frowned.
Craig: “Our debut album is still in the works!”
He declared.
Makayla: “We’ve been working on it for five years now Craig…”
Her voice trailed off. She was only half-listening as all she could think about was Ashley.
Tristan flicked his gaze to Makayla who looked forlorn.
Tristan: “Is something troubling you?”
He asked Makayla.
Makayla sighed.
Makayla: “I just… miss someone is all.”
Craig rolled his eyes.
Craig: “Not this again! Get over that chungo drongo, Makayla!”
He huffed. Tristan shot a glare at Craig.
Tristan: “You can’t speak to someone like this when they’re missing someone. This is a huge move and a mental transition that will take time to adjust to. Try to be mindful of that.”
He chided him gently. Deimos glared at Craig. The more he heard, the more he didn’t like.
Celeste burst in.
Celeste: “Hey, anyone wanna go to Danny Donger’s?!”
Deimos: “Sure, it’s not like we’re going to be practicing.”
He muttered.
Craig: “Who’s this chick with the Nuklear Intoxikation hair and what the fuck is Danny Donger’s?”
Celeste: “I’m Celeste! I’m friends with Deimos and Tristan! Danny Donger’s is a tavern! Look!”
She showed him an ad of a white man in a pair of hot pants and sneakers carrying a tray of wings and beer.
Celeste: “You get a bucket of ice with beer and fifty chicken wings!”
Craig’s eyes widened as he licked his lips. Makayla couldn’t tell if he was salivating at the food, the men, or both.
Craig: “Fuck yeah, count me in! LET’S GO!”
He exclaimed.
~
The limousine took Craig, Makayla, Tristan, and Deimos to the tavern in Little Tokyo. Celeste said she would meet them there later with some friends. From the outside, it looks pleasant, cheerful and intimate. Plastered walls and huge, stone pillars make up most of the building's outer structure.
It's impossible to see through the large, stained glass windows, but the animation from within can be felt outside. A neon red “Danny Donger’s” sign lit above the door. They got out of
As you enter the tavern through the heavily used, wooden door, you’re welcomed by overall happiness and excitement.
The bartender is busy but still manages to welcome you with a friendly nod.
It’s as lovely inside as it is on the outside. The tavern itself is packed. Several walls support the upper floor and the huge lamps attached to them. The walls are covered with various pictures of Danny Donger’s boy, celebrities, and athletes. It was a large restaurant with tables, booths, a full bar, and big-screen TVs playing soccer games, baseball games, or hockey. The waiters were all-male and shirtless, dressed in different colored hot pants, and sneakers.
The host led them to a large group table. Deimos pulled out a chair for Tristan. Tristan smiled and thanked him. The host handed them their menus.
Host: “Can I get you guys anything to drink while you wait for your waiter?”
Tristan: “A glass of chardonnay.”
Deimos: “Professor Pepper.”
Makayla: “That for me too!”
Craig: “Just a beer!”
Host: “What kind of beer? We have a special for a bucket of beer with fifty wings!”
He said to him.
Craig: “Whatever’s on tap!”
He said. The host shifted his eyes.
Host: “Sure…”
Celeste arrived and sat down.
Celeste: “My friends are not here yet!”
Deimos: “Do they exist?”
He quipped.
Celeste: “Yeah, you know them, Deimos! Or Tristan does! Anyway, I’ll have tequila on the rocks!”
The host sighed and left.
Craig: “What friends?”
He pressed. Before she could answer, the host brought their drinks and handed Craig a huge stein of beer.
Host: “Your server will be with you shortly.”
He nodded and left.
Craig: “I hope he’s a hottie!”
He grinned, eagerly rubbing his hands together.
Someone approached the table. He was a slim white man with short, wavy snow-white hair, a diamond-shaped face, a small pointed nose, and sharp green eyes. He was shirtless and wore a pair of green hotpants, a black server pouch, and green sneakers.
Man: “Hello, welcome to Danny Donger’s! I’m Fabien and I’m going to be your server.”
He said in a French accent.
Fabien: “What can I get for you?”
He asked as he took out his pad and pen. Tristan glared hatefully at Fabien. Deimos glowered at him.
Craig: “How about the hottest thing on the menu? You?”
He grinned at him squeezed into those tiny hotpants. Fabien smiled tightly.
Fabien: “Ohohoho, daring, are we?”
He chuckled. Deimos gaped at Craig. God, did he get that line from American Pizza? He thought.
Craig: “I like to live on the edge!”
He purred. Makayla rolled her eyes at Craig. Here we go again, she thought.
Celeste: “I want cheese fries, a western barbecue bacon cheeseburger, beer-battered onion rings with hot sauce, wings with hot sauce, mozza sticks, and tex-mex nachos with your hottest salsa.”
She relayed the items. Fabien jot them down.
Fabien: “Is this on one bill?”
Craig: “It’s on me!”
He winked at Tristan and Fabien. Fabien smirked. Deimos’ face contorted with rage when he winked at Tristan.
Celeste rose and waved. Deimos and Tristan raised their heads to see Andreas and Ivy enter. The color drained from Tristan’s face. Oh, golly, she invited Andreas here, he thought and looked worried. Andreas froze like a deer in headlights when he saw Craig.
Craig: “A-Andreas?!”
He shot up from his seat and charged at him like an excited dog. Makayla gaped, shocked to see Andreas.
Makayla: “...No fucking way…”
She felt a twinge of bitterness that Craig got to be reunited with his lost love while she was stripped away from hers. Ivy read her thoughts and gave Andreas a look. Lost love? She thought to herself.
Deimos: “Aren’t you going to fuck him, Craig? Why are you all over him and not the server?”
He asked sharply. Andreas looked over at Craig and observed the men surrounding him.
Andreas: “Which one?”
He pressed.
Fabien: “Uh, me?”
Deimos: “Yeah, weren’t you checking him out and saying you wanted him, the hottest thing on the menu?”
He added scathingly. I will fuck you up for hitting on Tristan, he thought. Ivy heard his thoughts and glared at Craig.
Craig: “What’s your problem, mate?!”
He glared at Deimos.
Deimos: “You are. You have no albums out; all you did was hit on Tristan and now the server here! Are you fucking serious about music or not?!”
He hissed. Craig slunk into his seat and shifted his eyes over to Andreas.
Craig: “Of course, I’m serious ‘bout music! Music is my life!”
He protested.
Tristan: “I asked Andreas for an album and he told him the horror stories and warned me about this.”
He added for good measure.
Craig: “Wait, you two met?!”
He gaped at Tristan and Andreas. Tristan nodded soberly.
Craig: “What horror stories?!”
He shifted his eyes with a laugh. Makayla arched an eyebrow.
Makayla: “...I’d like to know that, too.”
She pressed.
Tristan: “I asked him if he had a Nuklear Intoxikation album in his record store and he didn’t. He told me he played for the band and quit because he was tired of Craig and said the former drummer was also sick of his nonsense. He also added it was so bad, he moved overseas to get away from him and was frantic about Craig’s arrival.”
He explained. Craig’s heart sank, and he turned to Andreas, hurt in his eyes. Andreas pursed his lips.
Andreas: “I guess I need to move again.”
He said bitterly to Craig.
Deimos: “Oh, boy, sounds like a perfect frontman for a band! No album, people are quitting left and right, and he’s willing to spend hundreds at this bar because he gets a boner to the server and Tristan!”
He said wryly.
Craig: “It’s coming! People come ‘n go in bands all the time! Oi! I do not!”
He hissed.
Tristan: “Is this why Kurt quit?”
He rested his head on his hand and asked noncommittally.
Andreas: “Yes.”
Deimos glared at Craig.
Tristan: “Deimos, if I may, quit while you’re ahead. It seems Craig needs you more than you need him and already he’s burning his bridges because you called him out on stalling this band for nonsense.”
He shot an icy glare at Fabien.
Fabien: “Humph, good things take time, Tristan!”
Tristan: “He doesn’t have a debut album and has been doing this band for six or seven years.”
He said evenly.
Craig: “YEAH! Good things take time!”
He huffed. Fabien put his hands on Craig’s shoulders.
Fabien: “That’s right and certain people can set you back but you keep going.”
He gave Tristan the side-eye. Tristan rolled his eyes. Yes, Fabien, it’s my fault you were expelled from law school, he thought.
Craig: “Damn right!”
Deimos pointed a warning forefinger at Craig.
Deimos: “Tomorrow, we’re going to practice; if not, I will be gone. The only thing that would make me stay is money and it seems like I am going to be paid to be your babysitter rather than your drummer.”
He said sharply.
Craig: “BABYSITTER?!”
He rasped, slamming his fists down on the table, causing the cutlery to clang.
Deimos: “What else would I be?”
He asked dryly.
Craig: “Uhh, our BANDMATE?! I’m not a fuckin’ child!”
Andreas: “Then why act like one?”
Deimos: “Why aren’t you taking our order, Fabien? Why are you hanging around and defending this overgrown toddler?”
He challenged. Fabien shot him a glare and Tristan smirked.
Celeste: “Yeah, I’m hungry.”
She groaned.
Deimos: “Maybe we should get dinner elsewhere and let Craig cry into his fries with Fabien telling him it’s okay to be a loser as long as Craig pays him in huge tips.”
He huffed.
Craig: “Sounds like someone’s jealous?”
He huffed and squeezed Fabien’s ass. Fabien’s eyebrows raised and he shivered.
Fabien: “Oh!”
He purred. Deimos rolled his eyes.
Deimos: “Jealous of what? That I can’t be a 25-year-old toddler who can’t make music and focuses on chasing ass? I already was in a band and we made music but it was my dream to play for a thrash metal band… or any metal band.”
He stated. Deimos’ words resonated with Makayla as she had the same goal and motivation.
Makayla: “Craig can make good music… when he’s not chasing ass. He just needs his ass kicked in the right direction is all. He needs guidance from someone who won’t tolerate his shit and will give him the tough love and discipline he needs.”
She stated. Deimos drew a long breath.
Deimos: “So this is a nicer way of saying Craig needs a caretaker and Nuklear needs a real leader.”
He said firmly. Andreas nodded in agreement.
Craig: “Wh-What?! But I’M the leader?!”
He rasped.
Andreas: “Look at how well that is turning out for you. Nuklear Inotxikation needs a real leader.”
Deimos: “If that’s the case, I will stay and try to salvage this sinking ship.”
He nodded.
Tristan cupped his mouth.
Tristan: “Deimos, I have a bad feeling about this.”
He put his hand tenderly on his arm. Deimos shivered. Ivy looked away.
Tristan: “I don’t think anyone can save this sinking ship. It’s already split in two and going down. Let it sink.”
He warned him. Deimos locked his gaze on Tristan.
Deimos: “I can try. I want to make a new path from Ouro Novo. I want to play in a metal band.”
He said and nodded. Tristan could read the room and read between the lines watching Craig and seeing how he will inevitably ruin everything. Makayla empathized with Deimos.
Makayla: “I always wanted to play in a metal band, too…”
She said to Deimos, feeling like she understood him. Tristan flicked his gaze on Makayla and felt a twinge of sympathy for her having lost someone important and this joke of a “band” clearly set up for failure. Ivy read Tristan’s thoughts and got the sense that Makayla was sad and lonely and desperate to connect with anyone.
Celeste: “Are we going to eat or what!?”
She hissed and folded her arms in front of her chest.
Craig: “Fuckin’ oath, let’s eat!”
Fabien: “What are you getting?”
He asked Craig.
Craig: “Spicy chicken burgers ‘n hot wings!”
He grinned, winking at him.
Fabien: “Oh, that is a good choice. I like it spicy under the sheets.”
He wiggled his eyebrows.
Craig: “Ohhh, my kinda man!”
He purred.
Tristan rolled his eyes and looked at Ivy and Andreas.
Tristan: “Are you two going to stay or leave?”
He asked them.
Andreas: “I think I’ve lost my appetite.”
He rolled his eyes at Craig. Tristan knit his eyebrows and wanted to go with Ivy and Andreas but didn’t want to leave Deimos’ side. How he wished he could read his mind. Tristan gave Deimos a look. Deimos looked at Tristan and rose from his seat.
Deimos: “Okay, I will swing by the house tomorrow. Tristan wants to leave.”
Tristan: “Thank you, Deimos.”
He said softly and kissed his cheek. Deimos blushed and waved to Makayla and Craig as he left with Tristan, Ivy, and Andreas. Ivy bowed her head, feeling left out and hurt when she saw Tristan kiss Deimos’ cheek. She went numb and quiet.
Tristan saw Ivy’s expression in the corner of his eye.
Tristan: “You know what I feel like? Wood-fired pizza! How does that sound, Ivy?”
He smiled.
Ivy: “Oh, I’m not really hungry right now, but thank you…”
She forced a smile. Tristan bowed his head.
Tristan: “Is there anything I can do to cheer you up?”
Ivy sighed and bowed her head.
Ivy: “...How do you feel about Deimos?”
She pressed him. Deimos reddened when she asked that and Tristan froze.
Tristan: “...He’s my very close friend.”
He smiled and nodded. Deimos looked up at Tristan. Ivy wanted to believe that, but she felt there was something more.
Ivy: “How do you feel about… me?”
She asked softly. Tristan froze and blinked. He swallowed hard and smiled.
Tristan: “...You’re my very close friend, too.”
He nodded.
Ivy: “...That’s good.”
She smiled a bit. She didn’t know how to think or feel.
Deimos: “Tristan, since Ivy doesn’t want wood-fired pizza, can we get a steak?”
He took his hand.
Tristan: “Sure, Deimos.”
He said to him and turned to Ivy. Ivy looked hurt.
Tristan: “Ivy, call me if you need me or perhaps Andreas can read your fortune with tarot cards? I examined the items he had on the display case and noticed a cat tarot card set.”
He nodded. Ivy thought of the set and nodded. Maybe I will, she thought.
Deimos: “See you two later.”
He nodded and left with Tristan. Tristan waved at the two.
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