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Well, my friends have been bugging me to put up the chapter in a story I'm writing right now. It's not even CLOSE to being finished; I only have part one at the moment.
Here's what I have right now.
A few notes: Alex is a girl. Her full first name is Alexander because it was pretty late when I made her up, wasn't thinking straight. Butyeah, I like Alexander better. Fits her more.
Kuri has a weird name. I don't know where in the works I got his name from, but it stuck. His full name is Sahkuri Chugen.
Omoroi is Kuri's best guy friend. Kei is the girl that's with Omoroi; she only appears briefly.
Stained is the name of the story. I know it doesn't make much sense, but remember, this is just a little chapter.
And...yeah. Enough of this nonsense. To the story!
A random Stained chapter.
"Of Mistakes and a Serious Lack of Communication-Part One"
Kuri's POV.
Song: "My Name Is Trouble"-Nightmare Of You
I don't remember why the hell I was so depressed that night. It just...hit me, and I felt the need to drink it off. Maybe it was "fate" or whatever. I'm not one to usually believe in stuff like that, but hey. It's as good an excuse as any. When you're friends with a girl like Alex, anything can happen. Why not Fate?
I walked into Zephyr’s one and only bar, The Black Mustang, and took a seat. Rustic and shabby in appearance, the seats were well-worn and the bar’s finish was peeling a tad. The cigar smoke was heavy. It made everything a little foggy, even on a clear starry night like that one was. I could have sworn that nature was mocking me.
What’ll ya have, hon? The bartender said in her thick southern drawl. I looked up, and realized that it was the same one that served me last time I was here.
“Uh, Just a beer please.” I said, brows furrowing. I didn’t particularly like this lady. She tilted her head to the side, her hairspray-coated beehive haircut remaining completely undisturbed by the action.
“What’s the matter, hon?”
“Nothing.”
“…Is it a woman?”
“No.”
Clearly unconvinced, she started giving me this long lecture about her 4 ex-husbands, so I began drinking my beer and attempting to drain her out. I think she was somewhere in her third ex-husband’s wedding when I heard the bar’s door squeal on its hinges.
I turned around, and saw Alex.
Wait a second, what? What’s she doing here? She doesn’t drink…Right? I thought.
She saw me, walked right up, took a seat next to me, and pretended like I wasn’t there. We sat there awkwardly, me halfway turned to face her, and Alex sitting with her elbows resting on the table, eyes closed…for a few minutes…or hours. I couldn’t tell, but I could’ve cut through the tension with a knife.
And the nagging feeling that she was mad at me wouldn’t leave me alone.
"Uhm, Alex? What are you doing here? I didn't know that you drank." I said slowly, trying to get rid of some of my uneasiness.
She turned to me, but wouldn't look me in the eyes. All too quickly, she said "Oh, I don't. I was just curious. Don't mind me." She said, half smiling, before interrupting the bartender’s long rant to buy a drink for herself.
At that point, I should have known. I could've stopped the mess then and there. Should have, could have...
Though, all I did was sit there, smirking at her like an idiot. "So, what brought this all on? You depressed, too?"
"Nah. Like I said, I'm just curious. I see you and Omoroi come here all the time. What's so great about getting drunk?"
I gulped down what was about my third, maybe fourth beer, trying to buy myself a little time to think of a response. I didn't really know how to respond to that. I stared at her, trying to read her expression. It was unusually hard for me tonight; usually I could read her like a book.
Ah! I saw it. Just a hint of depression. I had thought so.
"You're a bad liar, Alex. What's bothering you?" I said, half-expecting not to get an answer.
"I just told you, it's nothing." She was scowling at me now, and finally made eye contact. She was trying to hide it; It wasn’t working. I could see it anyways, even through the thick cigar fog. She was upset again, and that nagging feeling came back…
Maybe I’m just being self-conscious. It could be anything…
"Well, whatever it is,” I said, lifting my glass. “Cheers. To our misery.”
She frowned at me, and for a second I thought she was going to deny it. But instead, She clicked her glass against mine, admitting defeat.
"Cheers."
One Hour Later
12. That's the number of drinks I had.
2. That’s how many she had.
Yet, oddly enough, I was the sober one. I was the one who had to take her home.
Goddamnit, I'm never gonna waste my money trying to get drunk again. With my alcohol tolerance, it was next to impossible without having to get my stomach pumped.
I sighed, and looked down at Alex, who was mumbling something about holes in the wall, smashed beyond reason. Gorgeous and drunk in the worst part of the neighborhood, and I was the only thing standing between her and all the sick and twisted figures in the shadows. Poor girl. She had no idea what was going on.
“Sahkuri…Another one…” She mumbled.
She used my whole name? She really must be out of it. “What do you mean, ‘Another one’?”
“Mmm…A hole in the wall…Another one…” She mumbled, her language slurred.
I was worried, but I kept going, assuming it was just drunken nonsense. Until I heard the footsteps behind me…
I spun around to see a man in about his late 40’s eyeing the two of us. Disgusting, really. Leather jacket, greasy hair, pants way too tight.
“Hey there,” He wheezed, in a thick New York accent, “How ‘bout you let me have a go with her?”
“How about not?” I said simply, prying Alex off of me.
“How about...you don’t have a choice?” He then made a miserable attempted to attack us.
A couple kicks, a punch in the face, and a final blow to the crotch, and it was over in less than 5 seconds. As he fell to the ground, not sure whether he should tend to his eye or now-broken member, Alex started giggling hysterically. “The hole’s fixed! Sahkuri fixed it. Sahkuri is a weird name! Hehe, Sahkuri. Kuri...” She repeated my name over a few more times before she had to cling to my arm for balance again.
A connection was made: Perverts-Holes in the Wall. I had no idea where she saw the similarities, but maybe she wasn’t totally out of it. She noticed the guy before I did.
We kept walking like that for a while, until we got to an intersection. Alex’s apartment was to the left, and mine was to the right. As I started to turn the way to get to her house, Alex muttered something about “Holes in the Wall” again. I spun around, but saw no one.
And then I thought of something.
Did I really want to leave her home by herself, drunk and helpless, when there’s probably some disgusting AIDS-carrying pervert lying in the shadows? The thought made me cringe, and my overprotectiveness got the better of me.
After taking one more look behind me, I sighed, and pointed my feet to the right.
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