OMG! IM BACK! AAAAHHHH Run for your life! lol. I'm TRYING to make this story different from WYWM. If I'm failing please let me know. If you have any suggestions on how to better the likes of this story, such as it is, please let me know. This story is dedicated to my wonderful boyfriend, Rorik. This story is copywritten by Aaron R. DeLorean, 2001 All Rights Reserved.
Disclaimer: No, I'm not stealing Julia Phillips writing style. Yes this story IS meant to imply certain things about certain people. Yes, I DO know the Backstreet Boys. They come to my house and clean it from top to bottom every Monday. (Nick walks my dog)
"Specter"
Aaron DeLorean
Chapter One
"All I could ever see Was the specter of me reflected I want a monument to the friendship We never had erected I want it to take up lots of room I want it to loom." --Ani DiFranco ______________________________
It was Holly's idea. It had been all along. She though it would benefit me. Or some shit. I went along with her to the club just to make her happy. I sincerely doubted anything at all out of the ordinary -- interesting as the case may be -- would happen tonight.
We had gotten to the club a little after midnight. On the dot according to my Fossil. Holly's boyfriend was the bouncer-slash-doorman, so we got to cut right on in front of the line. Lucky Us. A missive expletive emitted from halfway down the long line of patrons who had been waiting all night to get in. I turned around and flipped my middle finger. Holly grabbed my arm and pulled me into the depths of the dark building. House was thumping triumphantly. I could feel the bass down to my fillings. It was in my bones. I had a headache. Sometimes I really hated subwoofers. Of course the club system put my JBL's at home to shame.
We half shuffled, half walked over to a table. I immediately flagged down a waiter and ordered a Stoli and Seven. Holly shrugged out of her simulated Mink, her boobs jiggling to the delight of most of the men in the immediate proximity. I rolled my eyes. I leaned over closer to her.
"Dear, your tits are showing -- AGAIN." She tossed her bleach-blonde hair and her large hoop earrings jingled plaintively. She smiled,
"Good. I didn't pay ten thousand bucks to cover these things up." She arched her back, proving her point. We both cracked up. She grabbed my hand, "Let's dance, baby!" I tromped my vintage-Versace-wearing ass out onto the floor, my platform Doc's clunking underneath my feet. The air was thick and humid. My head pounded. Still I danced.
"Closer" by Nine Inch Nails cross-fed and started playing immediately. I grabbed Holly and pressed myself against her.
"Let's pretend I'm straight tonight." I said over the thump. SUBWOOFER. You get me closer to God. THUMP-THUMP. Holly ground her ample ass into my crotch. She brought her mouth to my ear,
"Yeah, too bad you're NOT straight." THUMP. I laughed. I noticed a group of people had formed and were eyeing us as we made fools of ourselves. AT LEAST we both had the body for it. Thank god for LYPO.
POUND POUND POUND went the blood vessels in my head, in time to the music. My JBL's were looking pretty fuckin' good right about now. I let go of Holly,
"Hun, I'm gonna go piss before the fucking subs rupture my bladder." SUBWOOFER.
THUMP thump. I wanna FUCK you like an ANIMAL. The song suddenly stopped and cross-fed off to another equally bombastic bladder-rupturing song.
The restroom door swung shut behind me. Muffled music always sounded so strange to me. It made me nervous. I dug around in my shoulder bag until I found my bottle of Oxycodone. I popped two. THERE. Aaaall better. I unzipped my crotch-hugging leather pants. I emptied my bladder. Ah, relief. I zipped up, washed, and went back out.
WHOOOOOSH went the scene as I was thrust back out into the Club World. Holly caught my eye and I glared my you-are-so-dead glare. I could see her laughing. Oh, so she thought I was KIDDING?! Bah. I did a three-sixty of the room as Holly walked up to me. The glint of a stainless steel GUN caught my eye. I frowned. Oh Christ NOT AGAIN. This was too L.A. circa 1994 for me. Please don't let him open fire. I pleaded silently to whatever god was listening. I grabbed Holly's arm.
"What?" She asked. I shook my head.
"We need to get out of here. FAST." She scrunched up her nose,
"Akira, are you high again? What did you slip in the bathroom?" She demanded. I rolled my eyes. Mr. GUN raised the weapon, pulled the slide. Fuck. I opened my mouth.
"GUN!" I yelled just as he was firing the first round. He saw me immediately. He turned the gun in my direction. He fired. Twice. I could hear Holly scream. I looked down at my chest. Blood was soaking through my shirt. Well, that Slash-and-Trash ensemble was done for, I thought to myself. Funny the things you think in times like that. The next thing I knew I was on the floor, Holly had thrown herself on my body as I heard more shooting in the background. I could see people in furs and three-piece suits running around the club. Wild eyes. I could feel myself slipping into oblivion. The man that had drawn the gun on me walked up to Holly.
"Get off of him, bitch!" I heard him yell. Don't do it Holly, I thought to myself but didn't say anything. Weird. Holly was arguing with him. He grabbed her by the hair and pistol-whipped her. She went down. He pushed her aside and glared down at me. He kicked me in the chest. I noticed the SUBWOOFERs had stopped thump Thump THUMPING. An unwelcome haze pushed it's way into my head. The sparkle of the Glock was the last thing I saw as I blacked out.
Click. Light.
"He's ok."
Fingers on my wrist.
"Do you know where you are?" I opened my eyes. It was a hospital. Oh, great, just where I always wanted to be, I thought to myself sarcastically. I looked up at the nurse.
"The fucking hospital." The nurse frowned,
"Yes. Do you know WHY you're in a hospital?" I swallowed.
Dry Mouth.
"Because some guy shot me and my friend at Medieval Woman." He nodded,
"That's right." He was cute. "And you've been out for a week." Whoa. A week? I turned my head and gazed at him as he was adjusting my IV.
"You're cute." I said. He turned and smiled.
"No I'm not, it's the meds Mr. Maxwell." I whipped my head around and tried to focus my eyes on him.
"Oh, meds are my best friends." I commented. Cute Nurse smiled at me wryly.
"Yes, we know. We found lots of substances in your blood when we did a tox screen." I chuckled to myself amused.
"So what has the good ol' Doc got pumpin' through my veins today?" I asked. Mr. Nurse ignored me. I looked at his name badge.
Kyle. I rolled the name around in my mind, toying with it.
"So Mr. Cute Nurse Kyle," I began, "When do I getta blow this joint?" He smiled at me, clearly entertained.
"Well, your doctor will need to see you, then a detective will want to talk to you."
Whoa. A Detective? Mr. Cute Kyle stuck a syringe into my IV line and the fog that had possessed and taken control of my mind immediately vanished.
"Duuude, what WAS that?" I asked, amazed. "I want some of that to go!" He just smiled,
"The doctor will be right in Mr. Maxwell."
When the Doctor was done spewing on and on about the nature of my hospitalization, and how I could check out now but that it would be AMA, and how I had to wear the bandages and take my meds until I was healed, Kyle came back into the room.
"Alright Mr. Maxwell, a detective would like to talk to you now, think you can handle that?" I squinched up my nose,
"PLEASE, please call me Akira. Mr. Maxwell makes me sound important."
"Alright Akira." I smiled,
"That's better. Oh, by the way, where the fuck is Holly?"
Kyle's face immediately fell. He pursed his lips.
"Akira, I'm afraid I have some bad news."
Fuck. I hated bad news.
"Oh no."
Kyle went on,
"You're friend, Holly Fremont's injuries were too severe. The doctors tried everything they could. I'm sorry Akira, Miss. Fremont died."
Stop.
The world ground to a halt.
"What do you mean dead?"
Kyle looked at me with sympathy. I turned my head and scowled. "I'm getting the fuck out of here immediately." I said tersely, getting out of bed and putting on my clothes.
"Akira, you need to talk to the detective and sign yourself out."
"FUCK IT!" I bellowed. "Send the god damned detective to my flat. I'm fucking leaving." Kyle shook his head and I could see some strange emotion in his eyes.
"Is there someone you would like me to call? Who's picking you up?"
Deep Breath.
"No, there's nobody." He looked at me strangely.
"No family?"
"No. The only person I had in the world...is gone." I said sorrowfully as I thought of Holly.
"I see."
"I'll just call for my car."
"You're car?"
I looked at him through tired eyes. Was he deaf?
"Yes, my company car." He nodded, realization descending.
"What do you do?" he asked.
"I'm a clothing designer." He nodded, impressed.
"Wow, anything I've heard of?"
"Not likely," I snorted, "Now get me the fuck out of here." Kyle frowned again. His face was not an expressive sort of face and it made me mad because I couldn't read him.
"Akira," he began, "I don't like the idea of you being by yourself. You're only friend in the world just...died."
Tough Shit. I thought to myself angrily.
"Well unless you're going to conjure her back from the dead, I'm fucked."
I sat down hard on the edge of the bed.
BOOM THUMP. And there it is.
The realization of what had actually happened struck me full in the face. Holly had given her life to save mine. She had sacrificed her soul so that I could live. I cracked.
"Oh my god!" I sobbed out. Kyle rushed to the bed and sat beside me, holding my hand. "She's not coming back is she?!" I cried out loudly. He frowned, pained.
"Oh Akira, I am so sorry."
I set there on that bed sobbing loudly for a long time. Kyle just held me while I sobbed out everything. Pain. Sorrow. Loss. I finally calmed and stood up wearily.
"I'm still leaving. You have no idea how much I hate hospitals." He looked at me as if trying to thinking of something important that he couldn't quite remember.
"Alright, let me get you're chart."
..........To Be Continued..........