ghosts made us black and all blue

I disappear sometimes. It’s my thing.

I’m not for everyone. I’m barely for me.

”Fight me.” Her little fists all balled up and ready to go was comical at best. Reira couldn’t fight herself out of a wet paper bag. There was something about him that made her want to poke, and prod, and press his buttons. What triggered him? What made him tick? What this? What that? A myriad of questions had invaded her mind, like mice to a cheese buffet. An overactive mind sought to figure out a perfect stranger, and the more logical part of herself of course told her to snap out of it, or be snapped out of it. She was doing it again, albeit unknowingly. “I’m starving and wasting away.” A complain uttered just under her breath as her jaw came to rest against her knuckles. Her nails tapped out some half-assed tune in an annoying kind of way. You know, that stupid thing chicks would do after they’d gotten a manicure? The ‘Look at my new nails!’ tap, except hers was more of a ‘I don’t know what to say’ tap. He seemed so cool, and call her juvenile if you must, but he had bad boy written all over him—even if he wasn’t—and her mind began to roam. She suddenly wanted to get into trouble, but she knew better than to tempt her demons, or the police for that matter. Layla had to stay squeaky clean, but if she were really Lola, she’d pictured her as a badass chick that thought nothing through, and just went for it in her purist of an adrenaline rush. “You refer to yourself as a dick, yet you’ve failed to do anything of that nature yet. Besides, tough guy, we both know that you only followed me around because I offered to fill your stomach, and your morning with things that aren’t necessarily good for either of us.” Finally a snort from her, accompanied by the childish act of her plucking a Sweet’n Low packet from the sugar holder, and flicking the papered object in his direction with a hum. She was such an expressive speaker, as in her head would teasingly sway for emphasis, her chin would often be up turned, or in extreme cases, her tongue would loll out of her mouth stupidly after having puffed her cheeks. By the time he’d gotten to his questioning, her eyes were fixed on a stacked swiss and mushroom beef-burger. The guy at the table adjacent to them was taking the biggest bite out of it, savoring every morsel. In awe, she watched the ketchup and oils roll down his fingers and onto the plate. She pined for the tart pickle spear wedged between the fries and cup of mayo. When she got her plat, she was dousing those deep-fried suckers in pepper and ketchup; maybe some sriracha if she was feeling like kicking it up just the tiniest bit. Speaking of which, where the hell was their bottle? Every other table had a bottle but theirs, and let me tell you, it wasn’t often that she saw things in shades of green, but even she had to admit that she was jealous. Just beginning to rise from her spot, his question halted her actions, giving her reason to slowly ease her way to into seat, leveling herself with him. She’d forgotten all about their little game, but s’long as they were still playing, she was still most willing. In case he hadn’t realized by now, she enjoyed talking about herself, so he could prod away, and she’d be as happy as a clam. Come to think of it, the more excited she became, the more she forgot to put up her front about being somebody else. “Back on stage with Trapnest!” her answer was short, sweet and to the point. It was also a big mistake, and she visibly bit her tongue just milliseconds before her hands both clasped over her mouth as though to hold in some big clandestine secret. Did she really think he was stupid enough to not know who she was though? “I mean at their concert… I mean… I went to a concert maybe once or twice.” She tried her hand at nonchalant behavior, but her now crossed arms, and avoidance of eye contact were dead giveaways. “I’m a fan, you know.” Now keep in mind that she could have just came clean! She could have let this come to a natural end, but god was she bad at covering her ass. That was in part because people often covered it for her. “Enough about boring old me. The real question is if nothing were illegal for just one day, and there would be no consequences at all, what would you spend your time doing, and why?” Ha! She was positive that she’d gotten him back. She was smooth like a baby’s bottom, and he still hadn’t caught on. She was grinning and slowly nodding to herself as those very thoughts crossed her mind. Pat on the back, Rei! Damn good diversion.

{ ♔ — The girl stood quietly for a moment, waiting for the male’s reaction. Minsun looks up before blinking at his words, stepping farther away from the railing. She had completely forgotten about the people who come here and take their own life. It was rather sad. Her blond hair moved against the wind as she turned to face him, pushing it out of her face. She didn’t blame him for thinking that, at least he cared.  ❝Ah, true.❞ She nods before saying something else.  ❝Have you ever seen someone jump?❞

He couldn’t help but snort at her question. It wasn’t in disrespect, no, merely surprise that it would be the first thing to leave her parted lips. He supposed it shouldn’t have caught him entirely off guard. Thoughtlessly fisting his hands into the depths of his pockets, he mustered up a shuffle of a shrug, and looked between the stranger’s blonde hair and the railing. “Somethin’ like that. Tried jumping myself one time.” Yosuke’s sense of humour was dark to say the least, and yet it took effort to keep his grin at bay. Unwilling to reveal that he was teasing, he did his best attempt at nonchalance, features stern despite the amusement that threatened to shake in the back of his throat. If anyone asked, he meant no harm. It was just one of those nights and he couldn’t help but try his hand at a misguided joke. 

Caution was a concept a little too foreign to somebody like her. It was without caution that she’d fisted over money to this guy, before retracting the gesture, in favor of roping him into her own early-morning antics. As pathetic as it may have been, she was in a way taking advantage of him whether she’d realized it or not. Had he even realized it yet? His question ignited something of a fire within her. She could have gone on forever and a day about why she could be scared, but wasn’t, but none of the answers she’d had sounded like anything an intelligent being would have thought up.  She could have lied to him, and he’d believe it, right? Oh, well Lola isn’t afraid of what he might do because Lola is a people-person, and no harm ever came to her. Yeah, that could be the story. Yeah! She was going to go for that. Hands lazily clasped together on the tabletop, Reira was all but bounding with excitement in her seat. She had this God-awful habit of sitting Indian-style wherever she went; even at fancier places. It always gave her pins and needles in the feet, and then she’d go on to complain about it to whichever sucker was within earshot. Yet here she sat, just as comfortably as ever, setting herself up for the inevitable. Her eyes were naturally large, and reflected her happiness at the moment. She hoped he didn’t think too much of it, because it really had just been moments ago that she seemed so broken up about something. There no time for that though because she had an answer to give. Change of plans; the waiter had appeared, and he seemed to be a new kid, which was reason enough for her to thank the heavens above. Her cover wouldn’t be blown just yet! They ordered, and she took note of his voracious appetite. He’d ordered just as much as she had, and so wordlessly, she ruled out the possibility of him being a junkie. Well that was unless weed was the poison he’d picked; then this’d all make sense to her.  One problem though, she forgot the damn mushrooms. The teen was walking away, orders in his possession this thrusting the spotlight back on her.  In a way she’d come to regret this twenty-one questions thing, but she started it, and wasn’t about to chicken out. A sigh escaped her as she found comfort against the wall of the booth, head resting against the wooden frame of it. Her expression was relaxed, even maintaining a smile for the occasion. She watched him closely, almost as if her intention was to creep him out, but it was nothing of the sort. She just liked to stare at people. “Why should it trouble me?” she finally responded.  “You could do this, and you could do that. What you don’t take into consideration is that I could also be a danger to you.” Her body lurched forward over the table just a little, now locking her focus with his. The smirk tugging at her lips was telling, but she was a creature that used her words to paint the entire picture. “Here you are, somewhat inebriated, and being hauled around the city by some tall blonde woman. You don’t know her name, intentions, history, or if she’s a threat, yet you ask her why she’s not bothered by a guy like you. Maybe ‘round my way there are nothing but guys like you. The real question is what kind of guy are you, and why would you be out to do anything bad to me? Do you feel secure?”

Remove her shoes? In the dead of the winter, and while strolling down glass shard littered back alleys? As tempting as his idea had been, bloodied and cold feet weren’t her thing, unless it was metaphorically. Well the cold feet at least.  The woman spared him a questioning gaze that lasted perhaps a few moments longer than socially acceptable, and then shook her head dismissively. “Unless you want to end up in the hospital with me tonight, hearing me whine like the big baby that I am, about glass being embedded in my feet, then I think I’ll pass. Hell, I think you’d pass too.” Watching him struggle to light the cigarette that he so desperately desired was a sight that she’s enjoyed, albeit in secret. Had she smoked, she would have offered help, but alas… There they were surrounded by buildings, neon lights, the occasional passerby, people carrying on about the New Year, and he had it in him to smoke? That wasn’t so outlandish though, now was it? Jesus Christ, he was almost exactly like Takumi just moments before, but his actions just now were all Ren. Stopping to eye her shoes and make a deduction that only male-logic could make. Making her pathetic excuses for pandemonium seem like trivial matters. Purely Ren, and while she could with ease, snap back like a taut rubber band from the subject of Takumi, Ren was an entirely different matter. A sullen expression was the first thing to mark its presence on her face; try as she may to stave it off. The cheerful Reira was slowly but surely losing the battle against the one that remembered everything. That was indeed the funny thing about her drinking—the reason she’d even left her house that night had been to forget, and yet now more than ever, this guy was reminding her of him. Three years ago in March, he would have been dead, and a day after, she’d be the one standing by his side, with a soul laden with regrets. ‘It’s all my fault.’ she’d told herself, and not to be rude, but yeah, yeah, it was all her fault. In vivid detail she remembered a battered body, but pristine hands, neatly folded over his abdomen just as they had when he slept. She remembered that those hands would never strum the strings a bass ever again, and that she would never sing in concert again, out of respect for him. That was the consequence of yet another one of her selfish, childish decisions. Running from her issues—like she’d been this New Year’s—often resulted in catastrophe, and if you didn’t pay, somebody else would in your place. That somebody was Ren. Wait, backpedal. She wasn’t Reira tonight, remember? No, she was Lola; spontaneous, full of moxie, generous, out to have a good time, and never having been involved in such a clichéd tragedy. A breath of fresh air, and all smiles. Bubblegum and obnoxious. Cloud of sadness to the side, to give way to an air of confidence and a smirk at the thought of pulling a past one on the fella. Leaving him stranded out here, all boozed up and on his own. She was sure he’d fare well though, and so that took the humor out of it. Was it right or left? No no, maybe it was straight… Right? Her stroll had slowed remarkably, eventually coming to a full stop as her eyes darted left, right, and then back left again. Her stomach rumbled audibly, sending a hand to rest upon it as though it’d settle things inside, then she gave him a look. The stupid ‘I’m sorry’ look that most people hated, but whenever she did it, pity was more the route they’d choose. Instead of admitting it, she suddenly perked up, a few times with a finger impolitely pointed out ahead of them at a red and purple sign that should have came with an epilepsy warning. “Oo-oo-oo!” an accidental squeal escaped her as she bolted, yelling back at him “That’s totally cheating, and you know it!” Laughter followed, and so did an answer as she slowed down just a little for him to catch up with his unlit cig, and sneakers. “Something I can’t say no to is a double bacon burger with grilled onions, ketchup, mayo, pickles, a sesame seed bun, and a good ol’ Coca-Cola to wash that sucker down.” Her tongue clicked, not even noticing that she’d fully stopped walking, stopping just in front of their destination. Her head was tossed back, and arms spread wide, as if she were home, and announcing herself with a relieved expression of “Ahhh, welcome to paradise.” It looked just as it always had on the outside, and she frequented the joint enough, so she was just banking on there being new staff that didn’t know her name… That was highly unlikely though, because whenever she’d come here, it was like she was thrown back in time, and into an episode of ‘Cheers’; where everybody knew her freakin’ name. Should have thought this one through, really. “So are you gonna go in, or stand out here and starve?” she asked, pulling at the door, as it opened with a wheeze of onions, beef, cheese, and fries, as well as heat and a relaxing atmosphere. The bells on the door jingled, signaling their arrival, and it was at the moment that she knew she was going for the gold tonight; she was getting mushrooms. “Get in there, c’mon, c’mon! Plus I’ve got another question to ask you. A question like what would lead you to wandering out tonight with no money and no plan?”

What seemed like constant chatter to him had been sparse to her, and if he thought that he’d spoken too much for her liking he was wrong. In her years she’d come across a lot of different people, all of which who spoke too much and said too much, if that made any sense. His speaking was more like somebody reciting something from the paper—nothing personal. Takumi appeared in her thoughts just then. That stoic expression, and the serious words and tone that he’d always taken on. Oh, Reira was green with envy, but nobody knew it. The way Yosuke spoke—so freely, and without hesitation—was how that Hachiko chick spoke. Maybe that’s why her friend had so foolishly gotten tangled up with the likes of her. She had to stop herself from hating a total stranger, but she also had to admit that she could understand what somebody would’ve been drawn to such a personality type. He was fun, Hachi was fun. Rei was jealous. His singing had interrupted her little trance, and the more she listened, the more that song in particular reminded her of The Beatles’ music, and as cliché as they, she was one for music that was either nonsensical, or good to dance to. Oh! She’d have to ask him to listen to that one zany song ’Dig a Pony’ song one of these days, to see what his interpretation of it was; which would have only been ironic, seeing as how that song was penned with the sole purpose of throwing people off. “Yes, exactly!” an exclamation followed by a melody. “Well we drank champagne and danced all niiiight.” In a fluid motion she swayed to the left, honey voice belting out the lyrics to the song that he’d linked her alias to. Other drunken onlookers enjoyed the little show, while the bartender rolled his eyes, and possibly regretted having accepted such a job. What was ironic was the face that had the roles been reversed, he would’ve been just as excited as the patrons. A saltshaker-turned-microphone found a spot in her grasp as her head bobbed forward, sending a mess of blonde forward as she belted out more, this time with almost obnoxious fit of laughter “Under electric candle light.” Fingers flittering freely in the air in his direction, she realized that this was the most fun she’d had in a long time, and for that she was thankful to him. “C’mon, aren’t you gonna sing along with me? Don’t just leave me hangin’.” she offered, holding the ‘mic’ out to him. What a bad cover, if she was supposed to be incognito that night. But wait, hadn’t he agreed to free grub? Her voice tapered off from the song, returning the salt to its rightful place. “Ah, right right right, can’t have the bum getting too comfy in here, or else I’m going to be burdened with the task of dragging him back to the nearest shelter.” The name she’d chosen was now solidified. Rei easily lowered herself from the seat, making a sturdy landing on a pair of black pointed-toed Louboutins that made her legs looks great, but all but broke her feet with each and every step she’d take. The shoes had been matched with a simple pair of black leather pants, and a navy-blue peacoat for the occasion. She really was overdressed for this place, but who cared? Let’s not even get started on the comparison to him. She just hoped that her height wouldn’t scare him off, as it often did other people. Two gulps had been enough to down the beer which suddenly tasted less sweet than she’d recalled. The payment and tip had been placed on the counter and slid toward the bartender, and just as soon she she’d turned to speak to the male who’d be accompanying her for the night, she noticed that he was already practically out the door, and she was sure to follow. In stark contrast to the warmth of indoors, the chilly air stung her cheeks in a way that reminded her why she both loved and hated this season. The snows that came with the cold fronts were beautiful. The blistering cold temperatures however… Yuck. ‘Lolo’ not only took to the nickname, but also took to amusing herself by alternating between pretending to be puffing on a cigarette, using the vapors of her warm breath meeting the chilly air as a prop, and tight roping along the cracks of the sidewalk. The father they roamed from the bar, the quieter the streets became, until it was just them and their thoughts. She thought of what March would bring. She thought of what tomorrow would bring. What if after tonight all of the relief she’d gained was taken from her? Honestly, whenever things were good for her, they somehow managed to crumble at her feet a short while later, and even if she handled it well for the most part, that didn’t stop it from putting some sort of damper on her parade. Unknowingly, they’d missed their turn. Two streets off from their destination, and the blonde’s confident strut slowed to a shuffle of sorts.  “Jesus Christ, I don’t know why I put myself through this.” A hiss, but more like she was just searching for something to prattle on about. “Remember how you said ladies loved the scruff? Well I have another pointer for you, tough guy, so hear me, and hear me well. Next time you see your doll wandering outside in heels, tell her not to.” A firm warning, no?  “I don’t care how good her legs look, or her ass, or whatever. Just say no, or she’ll be hobbling around like me right now, okay? Hobbling around with a hobo, in a shady part of town.” And just like that, the secret life of being a girl was unveiled, and just as quickly as she’d leapt to that topic, she was back off of it. “So I have this game for us to play while we walk to this place. Twenty-one questions. You ever played?” she asked, now turning down a side street, totally lost, and unwilling to admit it.