Chapter 49
Darrel “The Wraith” Gatti
The corpulent man drove from his dank apartment to Foxy Robin’s. He climbed out of his van with his PowerBook 100 and approached the nightclub. The sign on the front was a vector piece of Robin saying, “Spend the Night with Robin Auction! Starting bid: $1000, Auto-buy: $1,000,000.” The man giggled and felt his pants tighten. He scurried inside the establishment and saw her on the stage, his little angel: Robin. She wore a sleeveless black dress with a poofy skirt, heels, opera gloves, and a black hat. She was singing a pop song in her native language. She incorporated ballet into her dance moves.
Robin stopped doing her song and there was a round of applause.
Robin: “Good evening! Bonsoir!”
She exclaimed followed with a bow.
Robin: “As you saw on my sign, you can spend the night with me. The starting bid is one thousand dollars and auto buy is one million! You win, and I will make your wildest dreams come true.”
She purred. The corpulent man sat amongst the crowd and ordered a cola.
Robin: “Okay, starting at one thousand!”
A middle-aged man in a suit rose.
Man in suit: “Three thousand!”
Robin: “Okay, three-thousand, going once, going—”
A fat white man in a suit shot his hand up.
A fat man in a suit: “Four-thousand-five-hundred!”
Robin: “Okay, four-thousand, five-hundred, going once, going twice…”
She waited for a moment. Her eye twitched. The corpulent man who entered slapped his hand on the table and rose.
Man: “Nine-thousand!”
He screamed giddily. Robin raised an eyebrow.
Robin: “Hehehe, okay, nine-thousand, going once, going twice…!”
The fat man in the suit arose.
Fat Man in Suit: “Eleven-thousand—final offer!”
He cried. Robin giggled.
Robin: “O-Okay, eleven-thousand, going once—”
The corpulent cupped his hands over his mouth.
Man: “ONE MILLION! I’m doing an auto-buy!”
He shouted. The club fell silent as all attention focused on the jittery, sweating man. A wry smirk curled on Robin’s lips.
Robin: “The winner is… the guy with the… armpit sweat stains on the Hawaiian shirt!”
She announced with strain, pointing her forefinger at him, trying to hide her disgust.
Man: “In your faces, losers, I’m the winner! HAHA!”
He sang giddily and stuck his tongue out at the other patrons.
He skipped up on the stage to join Robin. He went up to kiss her, but, before he could, she shoved him away and shuddered.
Robin: “Not… Not here… Can we at least have some privacy?”
She fielded scathingly. Why must the rich men be so fucking disgusting? She wondered.
She drew a breath and gesticulated for the man to follow her to her room. He happily followed her backstage.
They climbed the stairs and approached a door guarded by Oscar and Gabriel. Robin pivoted on her heels to face the stout man. She cocked an eyebrow and folded her arms tightly under her bosom.
Robin: “These are my two faithful bodyguards, Oscar Lavolier and Gabriel Bernard. As you know, I am Robin Rénard… What is your name?”
The fat man stamped his feet excitedly.
Man: “Darrel Gatti! Better known as ‘The Wraith’ in the cyberworld. I’m only one of the best hackers in the world!”
He said with that gleam in his eye as he adjusted his glasses. Robin raised an eyebrow giving Darrel a quizzical look.
Robin: “And… so what? Why are you telling me this? I don’t care. Where is the money?”
Darrel happily bobbed his head and held up his laptop.
Darrel: “It’s all here!”
He cried. Gabriel narrowed his eyes to get a closer look.
Gabriel: “Ya mean to tell me that the million is in your video games?”
He drawled. Darrel giggled.
Darrel: “Yes!”
Darrel’s response reverberated in her head. In a flash, Robin’s expression darkened. What the fuck is he taking me for?! He bought auto-buy and he has the money in a fucking video game?! She wondered. She clenched her fists and gnashed her teeth.
Robin: “Look, Mr. Gatti, you got auto-buy to spend the night with me, so I suggest if you don’t want to become dog food for Gabriel’s dumb mutt, you better stop fucking around and give me the cash! I need it!”
She snapped.
Robin: “GET IT NOW OR ELSE!”
She marched up to him, her face inches from his, glaring hotly into his shifting eyes. Darrel felt his pants tighten and giggled softly. Robin flicked her gaze down to his pants and felt her blood boil.
Robin: “Gabriel, shoot him.”
She ordered.
Gabriel: “Good call, baby doll.”
He drawled and raised his pistol at Darrel’s head. Darrel flew his hands up with his laptop in his hand and screamed.
Darrel: “Don’t shoot! I-I have it! I am not kidding! I HAVE THE MONEY!”
He blubbered. Robin stomped her foot.
Robin: “What are you waiting for?! Why don’t you stop blubbering and get me the cash?!”
She asked irritably. Darrel trembled like a leaf in the wind.
Darrel: “Well, I would if you would allow me to use my laptop!”
He said beseechingly in a tiny voice while holding up the laptop in his quivering hands. Robin furrowed her eyebrows.
Robin: “Come on in my room, but Gabriel, don’t remove your aim from his direction. When I give the orders to shoot his sorry ass, DO IT.”
She barked. Gabriel stood ramrod straight and saluted.
Gabriel: “Your wish is my command, Mistress!”
Robin led Darrel to a sultry, blue bedroom, with a heart-shaped bed sporting a heart-shaped headboard framed with vanity-style lights. Darrel stared at her bedroom in awe. There was no trash or cockroaches, and it smelled so lovely. He inhaled the sweet aroma, taking it in. Robin’s impatience soared. She marched over to him and smacked him upside the head. He wailed and rubbed where she hit.
Robin: “Playtime begins when I get the money, Dough Boy, SO GET TO IT!”
She roared pointing her forefinger at him. Darrel sheepishly nodded and waddled over to the chair where Ashlee was lying. He cautiously tried to remove the cat, but Robin screamed.
Robin: “DON’T YOU DARE MOVE HER! You sit on the floor and work!”
She shrieked pointing at the floor. Darrel looked at Robin and swung his gaze to Gabriel and Oscar. Oscar looked impassive, and Gabriel shrugged and chuckled.
Gabriel: “Hey, that cat steals Moose’s bed all the time. Next to the mistress, she rules the roost.”
He drawled and aimed his pistol at Darrel. Darrel gulped and gingerly sat on the floor where he opened his PowerBook and booted it up.
Robin paced around the room while he worked. She spun on her heels and glared at Darrel with fire in her eyes.
Robin: “WHAT IS TAKING YOU SO DAMN LONG?!”
She shrieked, jumping up and down, her face red as a stop sign. Darrel opened his mouth to speak and babbled. Oscar turned his head to face Robin.
Oscar: “He has to boot up his machine to get the money.”
He said calmly. Robin narrowed her eyes at Oscar.
Robin: “Well, I better not be kept waiting long… I hate waiting—you know that…!”
She snarled. Oscar clucked his tongue. I know all too well, he mused.
Darrel: “Aaaand done! I transferred the money from my account into your offshore bank account! Piece of cake!”
He stretched his arms and intertwined his fingers to crack his knuckles. Robin looked over his shoulder with a wide smile on her face.
Darrel: “I hacked into Donati, Inc. undetected to take the money from there into my offshore bank account and transfer it to yours!”
Ashlee got up, stretched, and hopped down on Darrel’s lap where she curled up. Gabriel’s mouth was ajar when he saw this.
Gabriel: “Well, I’ll be darned… That cat ain’t never gone near no one, ‘cept the mistress!”
He exclaimed. Robin threw her head back and laughed.
Robin: “Ashlee recognizes an asset when she sees one!”
She said loftily as she placed her hands on her hips and wagged her head. Darrel raised an eyebrow and gaped at Robin curiously. Robin wiggled her hips seductively and fluttered her eyelashes.
Robin: “You can take large sums of cash from big companies and go undetected. Of course, you’re an asset. How about you become my full-time… computer guy? Whatever you do.”
Darrel’s jaw dropped and his eyes lit up when she asked him that. Robin rolled her eyes.
Robin: “An answer would be nice.”
She said sharply. Darrel shook his head from his daze and nodded eagerly.
Darrel: “O-Of course, it would be my pleasure!”
He stammered.
Robin lowered Gabriel’s gun.
Robin: “That will no longer be necessary.”
Robin drew a long breath and let it out roughly.
Darrel: “Also, Robin…”
He began and pursed his lips.
Darrel: “Basile Bellegarde is in town.”
He said evenly. Robin’s heart sank when she heard that name.
Robin: “...What is he doing here?”
She asked in the coldest, flattest tone that sent shivers down Darrel’s spine.
Darrel: “I think he’s here to settle a score for his old client.”
He swallowed hard. Oscar, Gabriel, and Darrel stared at her with fear. She never looked so bleak.
Darrel: “Uhm, his son, Fabien, lives here.”
He murmured.
Robin: “I need a drink to clear my head.”
She stomped out of her bedroom. Darrel was lost in his world. He hacked into one of the biggest companies in the country to steal money for Robin, got close to his dream woman, and now she wants him by her side at all times. Life is beautiful, he thought as his dick rose in his pants.
~
Deimos came downstairs to see Tristan putting the newspapers in the trash. He looked around for Makayla and opened the lid to see the cheesecake. His smile faded when he saw the single turtle gone. He drew a long breath and embraced Tristan from behind.
Deimos: “What were you looking for?”
Tristan smiled into his embrace.
Tristan: “Just something about who owns Foxy Robin’s.”
He sighed.
Deimos: “Why, because of that book?”
Tristan nodded.
Deimos: “Did you find anything?”
He took his hand and kissed it and led him into the living room where the two sat. Tristan rested his head on Deimos’ chest. Deimos reached over and pulled Tristan’s socks off. Tristan fanned his toes.
Tristan: “Yes. I found out her name is Robin Rénard… She and I went to the same collège or middle school.”
He sighed. Deimos looked down at him.
Deimos: “How come you never told me about her?”
Tristan looked up at him and knit his eyebrows.
Tristan: “I didn’t know her that long and forgot about her until now.”
He replied evenly. Deimos caressed his hair and Tristan smiled.
Deimos: “Is she going to be a threat like… Dougal? Or Klaus?”
Tristan shifted his eyes.
Tristan: “...I hope not.”
Deimos intertwined his fingers with Tristan’s.
Deimos: “Where is Makayla? Did she walk you back from the Donatis?”
He shook his head.
Tristan: “No, she stayed behind to bicker with Blair and Vanessa about Ashley.”
Deimos blinked.
Deimos: “...Is this going to be an issue?”
Tristan drew a long breath.
Tristan: “I hope not, Deimos.”
He said wearily.
Deimos and Tristan saw a taxi pulled up in front of the house through the living room window. Deimos sighed and rolled his eyes. He rose to open the door for her since he knew she didn’t have a key.
Makayla: “Thanks, Deimos!”
She nodded to him.
Deimos: “No problem.”
He folded his arms over his chest.
Deimos: “Where did you come from?”
He asked her.
Makayla: “...Andreas’ shop.”
She answered.
Deimos: “Why were you there?”
He quirked an eyebrow. Tristan drew a long breath.
Tristan: “I stayed behind before Ashley drove them there to pet one of Blair’s cats. They were getting their tarot cards read.”
He replied. Makayla turned her head to Tristan.
Makayla: “All right, fine! I went with them to get our tarot read, but that didn’t happen. Lazaros, Fabien, and Craig showed up and ruined everything!”
She huffed. Deimos nodded and pursed his lips.
Tristan: “Deimos is concerned this could pose a possible issue for Sparaktikós. Will it?”
He asked her firmly.
Makayla: “How could it be an issue for our band?”
She asked.
Deimos: “I don’t know, you could be chasing Ashley instead of practicing for example.”
He locked his gaze on her.
Makayla: “That’s not going to happen! When you wanna do rehearsals, it’s locked in!”
She held her hand up.
Deimos: “Instead of walking Tristan back and discussing the songs I wrote, you wanted to get a tarot reading of your future with Ashley.”
He added in a firm tone. Makayla: “It didn’t seem like he wanted to discuss that… it seemed like he had his mind on whatever was in those newspapers.”
Tristan noticed how Makayla also blames others, not unlike Craig. He rose and cleared his throat.
Tristan: “I don’t want to discourage you, Makayla. Love is a beautiful thing but are you certain you have a future with Ashley? Whenever you’re brought up around them, they do a terrible job of disguising that they’re upset and abruptly change the topic.”
He added in a gentler tone than Deimos.
Makayla: “Yes… Ashley is a beautiful thing… Look, I know I upset them with Lazaros, but that meant nothing to me. I thought I would never see Ashley again, and I know Lazaros doesn’t love them and is only doing this out of spite. He cares more about Tristan than he does about them.”
She huffed. Tristan raised his eyebrows. That’s an understatement, he thought.
Tristan: “Then… that’s Ashley’s journey and that’s on them to find this out. Right now, Lazaros is new and they’re smitten with him because they share common interests and Lazaros is relishing that someone puts him on a pedestal. If it’s not meant to be, that will come in due time, but no one is going to tell Ashley otherwise. They’re not going to listen to you, Blake, me, or anyone.”
He said and inhaled sharply.
Tristan: “I know what Lazaros is like and Deimos knows too well, but some people don’t want to listen to reason and that is their journey to find this out… if they want.”
He concluded. Deimos nodded and agreed. Makayla bowed her head.
Makayla: “I know what Lazaros is like, too. He doesn’t deserve Ashley and he will break their heart!”
She huffed. Tristan drew a long breath.
Tristan: “I know this, Makayla, but you can’t help people who don’t want to be helped.”
He said, looking at Lazaros’ house.
Tristan: “And you can’t control how Ashley feels about you. All you can do is let them make their choice and leave the door open if they want to come back.”
He suggested.
Makayla: Well, my door is always open for them if they want to come back…”
She sighed.
Deimos and Tristan heard Ashley’s laughing coming from the house. Deimos grumbled.
Deimos: “I’m drowning this out with some music.”
He huffed and stormed off upstairs. Tristan heaved a deep sigh. Makayla’s ears perked up when she heard Ashley’s laughing.
Makayla: “Sounds like music to my ears…”
She then frowned when she realized their laughter was from tickling.
~
That morning, Tristan, Deimos, and Celeste sat on the island eating breakfast. Deimos wore an Iron Maiden t-shirt and torn jeans. Celeste wore an off-shoulder Guns ‘n Roses shirt, a jean skirt, and purple tight. Tristan wore a gray knit sweater with a diamond pattern over a white pressed shirt and black tie, khakis pants, and black wingtip Oxfords. Deimos was drinking coffee while reading the paper and Tristan sipped on some honey lemon green tea. Celeste got “Bear Claws Energy” from the fridge to drink.
Deimos: “So, Ivy is going to send some concept sketches of the logo. Hoping Makayla can look at those with me.”
He drawled and drank his coffee.
Tristan: “I have some errands to run.”
Celeste: “Can I come with you?”
Tristan raised his eyebrows.
Tristan: “I planned on doing those alone, Celeste.”
He said firmly. She rubbed against his feet like a cat. Tristan heaved an exasperated sigh.
Deimos: “Take her with you, Tristan. Just in case you run into trouble.”
He took his hand and kissed it. Tristan smiled and melted when he did that.
~
Tristan tied a blue scarf around his neck and had a black peacoat over his clothes. Celeste had her leather jacket with fringe and black ankle strap boots on her feet as they walked to Tristan’s house. He went into the garage and Celeste opened the car door for him.
Tristan: “Thank you.”
He smiled and got into the driver’s side. Celeste got into the passenger’s side and smiled at him.
Celeste: “Where are we going?”
Tristan: “Pink Top City Library.”
He said as he slid his key into the ignition and pushed the button on the rearview mirror to open the garage door. He looked behind his shoulder as he reversed out of the garage and shifted gears as he drove down the driveway.
~
He drove them through downtown Pink Top City until he made the turn onto the ramp to the exit to Dottat Yard. This was considered the “education district” of Pink Top City where the majority of the schools and museums were.
They approached an enormous two-story craftsman-style wood and brick building with large windows for natural lighting and an outdoor seating area with a water fountain. Trees and shrubs adorned the path leading up to the circular stairs with two large glass doors. Above the glass doors was “Pink Top City Library” in large cyan letters.
Tristan parked his car in the parking lot and he and Celeste got out and walked on the cobblestone pathway leading up to the stairs. Celeste opened the doors for Tristan. He smiled and thanked her.
When they entered the library, a grand foyer with a high glass ceiling that had to be over fifty feet high greeted them. Through an archway on the left was the children’s area, with rows and rows of bookshelves, a play area enclosed in a rainbow circular gate, murals depicting classic characters from children’s literature adorning the walls, and a small room to the right of the area designated for reading time.
Through the right archway was a long table with computers, several rows of bookshelves, ladders to climb up, microfilm readers, a shelf with VHS cassettes, laser discs, and beta cassettes, and stairs leading to the upper floor. There were several library card catalog cabinets.
Across from them was the librarian’s desk where a stern-looking white woman with dark hair tied up in a bun and glasses hung over her nose sat. Celeste whistled. The librarian put her forefinger to her lips, shushing her. Celeste looked away and shoved her hands in her pockets.
An old case Basile did, huh? He wondered. He knew Basile never practiced law in the United States so he hoped they had archives of French newspapers. He approached the card catalog cabinets and ran his finger over them. He saw a cabinet designated for Spanish and one for French. He walked over to the French one and tried to recall some newspapers his grandmother read. He recalled, “le Lève-Tôt”, “le Compte de l’Est”, and “l’Émeraude.”
He opened a drawer and rummaged through the cards. It must have taken place in the late seventies or early eighties, he thought. It was after I left, he mused. He didn’t recall when Basile retired but it wasn’t that long ago.
His eyes widened when he found a card for “l’Émeraude” and they had some microfilm reels between the years 1910 to 1981.
Celeste: “Can we go to the candy store after this?”
She asked in a low voice. Tristan smiled a bit and nodded.
He strolled to the file cabinet containing microfilm reels and got one for “l’Émeraude” of 1978. He went to the microfilm reader and paused.
Tristan: “Do you know how to load this?”
He asked her quietly. She pointed to a sign with instructions. She took the reel from him and slid the hole through the peg, she pushed the green button to open up the lid, took the film, and threaded it down the chute until it was under the glass. She closed the lid and reached over to hit the load button.
The newspaper came on the screen and Tristan turned the knob to flip through the pages.
Celeste: “It’s all in French…”
She groused.
Tristan: “I can read it.”
He muttered.
After a few minutes of going through that reel, Tristan found nothing and decided to get the following year’s reel. He had Celeste load that one for him and he used the knob to go through the pages. Celeste gazed at Tristan.
Celeste: “You’re one of the most handsome men I ever saw, Tristan.”
She said breathlessly. Tristan paused and blushed. He laughed a bit.
Tristan: “Where did that come from?”
He swallowed.
Tristan: “But thank you!”
He smiled tightly and flipped through the pages.
His heart froze when he saw it. He saw Basile defending someone in court. The picture of the client was next to him. His client was a young white man with an oval face, symmetrical features, dark eyes, and laboriously combed white hair. The newspaper stated that 17-year-old Claude Haprèle was charged with murdering his 16-year-old girlfriend’s (Robin Rénard) mother, Jeanette Rénard, and her step-father, Alphonse Gros.
Tristan flipped the pages. It went on to say that Basile was showing evidence that Robin convinced Claude to kill her parents for insurance money and stated Robin wished to leave Nouvelle Gaule to start a new life in the United States. Robin also claimed to Claude that her stepfather sexually assaulted her on several occasions, which Robin denied.
Celeste: “It’s all in French.”
She pouted.
Tristan: “I know. I know what it says…”
He sighed and flipped the pages.
He froze at what he read. The day Claude took the stand, he withdrew a gun from a paper bag. Before he placed the barrel in his mouth and pulled the trigger, he looked at Robin and tearfully said, “Tu ne m’as jamais aimé.”
Tristan drew a long breath. He removed his glasses to rub his eyes. He put them back on and pressed the “print” button on the machine to print off the pages.
Those words he said to Robin in court echoed in his mind. He never met Claude but why would he say this and then take his own life? He wondered. She always complained of Claude but never mentioned her family abusing her to me, he thought.
Celeste: “Did you get what you want?”
Tristan: “Yes.”
He forced a smile. She went to the printer to slide the coins in for Tristan and grab the pages he wanted to retrieve. Celeste unloaded the reel, put it back in the box, and back into the cabinet for Tristan. He thanked her and they promptly left the library.
~
Celeste and Tristan stood in front of Fabien’s door. Celeste carried a bag from “Carl’s Candy Shop” as she knocked on his door. The door swung open. Fabien stood there. He wore a black Nuklear Intoxikation shirt with a green plaid shirt over it, jeans, and flip-flops.
Fabien: “What do you want?”
Tristan: “We have to speak, Fabien.”
Fabien: “Come on in.”
He stepped aside to let them in.
Tristan untied his scarf and shrugged out of his peacoat. He hung them up. Celeste hung her purse up next to Tristan’s jacket and strolled in. Craig was on the couch watching football in his underwear.
Craig: “What’s ice cunt ‘n the snack thief cat lady doin’ here?”
He queried.
Tristan: “Hello, Craig, don’t rush to get dressed or anything.”
He said dryly.
Craig: “I wasn’t gonna!”
Tristan: “Do you remember when your father said he came down here for an old case he did?”
Fabien darkened.
Fabien: “I don’t care about his cases.”
He said bitterly.
Tristan: “I’m sorry, Fabien. Normally, I am with you on this but this one hits close to home.”
He sat on the couch and Tristan joined him. He gave Fabien the newspapers he printed off. Fabien took them and read them.
Craig: “Ohhh, so he DID come here for a sheila! Told ya so!”
He pointed to Robin.
Fabien: “He’s not pursuing her romantically.”
He began.
Fabien: “I know this is in French but his client was her former boyfriend. He killed himself in court. He killed her parents.”
He explained to Craig.
Craig: “Why’d he kill her parents, and then kill himself for? Was she always nagging him or something?”
He asked. Fabien shrugged.
Fabien: “It says here she told him her step-father was raping her but Robin denied saying this on the stand and Claude made it up.”
He replied.
He locked his gaze on Tristan.
Fabien: “Is this the same girl you told me about?”
Tristan nodded.
Fabien: “She still got the hots for you?”
He chuckled. Tristan rolled his eyes.
Fabien: “When Makayla took us to Foxy Robin’s, a waitress gave Tristan a book by Isaac Asimov, and it was weird because only Deimos and I know Tristan is the only one reading at a party. Whenever we had parties, Tristan was in a corner, reading a book.”
He chuckled.
Craig: “Pfft, neeeeeerd!”
He taunted Tristan.
Tristan: “Pfft, stinky feet.”
He countered and smirked. Craig gaped at him.
Craig: “Fuck you.”
He pouted and went to his and Fabien’s bedroom to blast some thrash metal music.
Celeste tugged on Fabien’s flip-flops. Fabien reached over and took them off. Then she untied Tristan’s shoes. Tristan slid those off and she pulled off his socks.
Tristan: “She bought these candies to eat off our feet.”
He said to Fabien.
Fabien: “Sure, I’m game!”
He bobbed his head. They put their bare feet up on the table. Celeste grabbed handfuls of Slime Slurps from the bags and opened the blister packs to place the mutant-shaped red and green gummies on their feet. Tristan shivered.
Tristan: “It’s cold!”
He giggled. She dropped the Slime Slurps all over their feet. They wiggled their toes and fanned them out.
Celeste took Fabien’s foot, sucked off the Slime Slurps, and licked and tasted his feet. He cupped his mouth to stifle a laugh. She then took Tristan’s slender foot and sucked the Slime Slurps off his feet and licked between his big toe and index toe. Tristan shrieked with laughter and jolted.
Tristan: “WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
She danced her tongue all over Tristan’s soles and then Fabien’s soles.
Tristan: “WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”
He laughed loudly and squirmed in his seat.
Fabien: “HEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh my!”
He shivered. She smirked and wiggled her nails all over their soles causing the two men to howl with laughter.
Tristan: “WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
He laughed hard and gasped in between laughing.
Fabien: “HEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! YEHEHEHEHEHEHES!”
He threw his head back laughing and loving this.
Celeste: “You’re both laughing at the thrash!”
She teased as she continued to tickle the mens’ soles and they laughed hard.
~
When she finished tickling them, both Fabien and Tristan panted, catching their breaths. Celeste got some wet wipes from her purse and used those to clean their feet. Tristan jerked his feet and yelped as she did that.
Celeste: “Goddamn, you’re unbearably ticklish!”
She teased and wiped his feet. Tristan laughed and dug his fingertips into the couch. When she finished, she handed him a facial tissue to clean his glasses. He took his glasses off, thanked her, and cleaned them. He put them on and sighed.
Fabien: “Where are our shoes?”
He looked around and looked at her.
Celeste: “Don’t look at me! Mine are gone, too!”
She held up her foot with the tights on.
Fabien saw a garbage bag drag out of the door. He rushed over and grabbed it, thinking it was Craig but it was Gus.
Fabien: “Gus, what are you doing?!”
Gus: “Going to garbage them. I smelled these shoes and they don’t stink so I don’t want them.”
He drawled.
Gus: “I want THESE!”
He held up one sneaker of Craig’s and Jaclyn’s heel, putting them to his face and inhaling them. Fabien twisted his face with disgust and snatched the garbage bag from Gus. He took out his flip-flops, Tristan’s Oxfords, and Celeste’s boots, handing them to them. Tristan drew a long breath.
~
Tristan and Deimos were in Tristan’s bedroom that night. Tristan had a cup of chamomile tea and had his bare feet resting on Deimos’ lap.
Deimos: “Ivy gave me the concept sketches. Would you like to see those?”
Tristan: “Absolutely!”
He said with that sparkle in his green eyes. Deimos handed him a piece of paper with the concepts for the logo. Tristan ran his forefinger over those and pointed to the third one where the S looped above the other letters to the other S.
Tristan: “That one.”
He looked up at Deimos and smiled. Deimos smiled back and nodded.
Deimos: “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
He put his arm over him and snuggled him.
He slid his hand up and tickled Tristan’s ears, which elicited a giggle from him and tickled his neck.
Tristan: “Hehehehehehehehehe!”
Deimos smiled and slid his hand down squeezing his knees, which caused Tristan to shriek with laughter. Deimos then wiggled his fingers over Tristan’s soles. Tristan threw his head back and laughed hysterically.
Tristan: “WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! JAHAHAHAHAHAHACLYN’S FEHEHEHEEHEHEHEHEHEHET!”
He said through his laughing fit.
Deimos stopped and massaged his feet.
Deimos: “Tired?”
Tristan exhaled a long sigh and sipped his tea.
Tristan: “Celeste tickled them a lot is all.”
Deimos: “Oh, how come I didn’t hear you?”
Tristan: “She did it at Fabien’s place!”
He replied. Deimos stopped.
Deimos: “...Why there?”
Tristan cleared his throat.
Tristan: “She wanted to eat Slime Slurps off our feet.”
He said evenly.
Deimos gaped at him.
Deimos: “What errands did you have to run?”
Tristan paused and raked his fingers through his hair.
Tristan: “I went to the library.”
Deimos: “Why? I never pegged you to borrow books but to keep them.”
Tristan: “It wasn’t for a book; I wanted to look through their newspaper archives.”
He nodded. Deimos stopped massaging his feet.
Deimos: “Why didn’t you tell me? What is this for, Tristan? That girl you went to school with?”
He asked sharply. Tristan felt a bad feeling form in the pit of his stomach from Deimos’ tone and his questions.
Tristan: “You had other things to do for your band… I didn’t want to take that from you.”
He said in a small voice.
Deimos: “What did you find?”
Tristan: “I did find that old case of Basile’s.”
Deimos: “Basile? Fabien’s father?”
Tristan nodded.
Tristan: “Robin’s former boyfriend, Claude Haprèle, was his client. Claude killed her mother and stepfather. Basile told the courts Robin lied about her stepfather sexually assaulting her and wanted him to kill her parents so she could have the money to leave Nouvelle Gaule. Before Claude shot himself, he told Robin that she never loved him, therefore confirming Basile’s words to be true.”
He explained.
Deimos paused, taking this in.
Deimos: “Why am I just learning about this now?”
He asked sharply. Tristan shrank.
Tristan: “I told you! You’re busy with your band! I don’t want to take this from you!”
He replied and his bottom lip trembled. Deimos rose.
Deimos: “I’m never busy enough to protect you, Tristan! If this girl convinced her boyfriend to kill her parents for money and is giving you books, I have every right to be concerned!”
He said as his voice rose and flailed his hands around as if were swatting flies. Tristan embraced himself and looked away.
Tristan: “I’m sorry, Deimos. I didn’t want you to worry about me.”
He murmured.
Deimos: “It’s just a band, Tristan! I think if Makayla continues to chase Lazaros’ buttlicker, it will crash and burn but you matter more! I want to protect you! You’ve told Celeste about this but not me?!”
He snapped.
Tears welled in Tristan’s eyes.
Tristan: “I’m sorry, Deimos! I know how much this means to you!”
He cried as the tears dropped down his cheeks. Deimos glared hotly.
Deimos: “I DON’T CARE ABOUT THE BAND!”
He barked, which caused Tristan to hug his legs and cry.
Deimos: “Do you think I can’t protect you?!”
He knit his eyebrows. Tristan shook his head.
Tristan: “It’s not that!”
Deimos: “Did you tell Fabien about this?!”
Tristan sobbed and nodded. Deimos threw his arms up.
Deimos: “Great, you tell a guy you hate but not me!”
Tristan: “He wanted to know why his father came here, Deimos! This is why!”
He bawled. Deimos sneered at him.
Deimos: “Stop that, Tristan! Your father does this when things don’t go his way!”
He shook his forefinger at him.
Tristan: “I’m sorry, Deimos! Don’t be upset with me! I didn’t do this with malicious intentions!”
He cried.
Deimos: “I have to go. I don’t want to deal with this. You’re just like your father.”
He fielded scathingly. Tristan removed his glasses and bawled into his hands. Deimos stormed out of the room and slammed the door, causing Tristan to weep and cup his mouth as he sobbed. Deimos leaned against the door and knit his eyebrows. He then furrowed them and stormed off.
~
Deimos lay in his bed that night in his red plaid flannel pajamas. He looked to the left to see the bed empty. He looked to the right on his nightstand to see a picture of him and Tristan together. He looked down and sighed. Maybe this is why he left when we first met; I just mess up everything, he thought. And I probably messed it up for good again, because my ego was in the way, he thought glumly. Maybe I’m not much different than Lazaros…, he thought with a sigh. What is wrong with me? I just wanted to protect him and I gave him the impression I care for this band more, this is my fault, he thought.
I don’t deserve someone like him, he thought and turned to reach out to where Tristan slept.
Comments