Chapter 3: The City Leads Me 

Every time I look in a reflective surface, the same long and bony face greets me. Perhaps . . . the way I look is nothing more than a mask, with a fine complexion and perfect hair . . .

But what puts me off is my eyes. 

One eye is a charming and sparking shade of forest green. But something's off about the color . . . It's like it shouldn't exist on my face,  but it somehow have made its way onto me anyway. I feel my guts twist in uneasiness at this thought, and I decided to shake it off to the back of my head.

The other eye is, most expectantly, my own. It's a clear, cold cut of crystal blue. I've only seen one similar shade of blue . . . And it's unfortunately not on my similar emerald-eyed roommate.

No, my own eye is on someone who, I have to say, do not favor whatsoever. Honestly, I'd be happy if I never see him again!

And the nameless person, who seemingly bothers the hell out of me every damn second I see him, had the nerve to rest his thick skull on my priceless, hand-made jacket! 

I was positively shaking in anger at that point, but he just didn't seem to get the goddamn message I was convening . . . Although, it was possibly his first time experience on a motorcycle, and he may have not known what to do . . . 

But still, he rubs me in the wrong way.. I have the strong need to strangle him until he sees stars, even though I've only just met him. 

In fact, when I swung by his apartment to drop his sorry ass off, he practically flopped to the ground when getting off. The man beamed at me, tossed me the borrowed helmet, and then he tripped on his own feet again. Then he smiled again, scurrying off to the collection of homes afterwards.

. . . Who the actual hell does that? Luckily, it did get a chortle out of me and some other residents watching.

Don't get me wrong, in no way whatsoever do I like this blonde prick . . . But he admittedly gets a laugh out of m

For such a 'serious person', people say, I sure do like people who can make me smile . . . Most of my acquaintances and friends are wacky nut jobs that can make me crack a grin. But he's a whole different story - a different genre of an acquaintance, in fact! It's like I've known this man before, but I've never met him in my life before I found him on the ground, half-freezing to death . . .

The name "Lalna" is sour on my tongue, but is sweet in my head. I scowl at this.

Not as sweet as the sight of Zoeya in short's lounging on the couch, however . . . She lazily looks up at me. A perfect mix of green and blue.

"Hey, Mister, what do you want to do today?" Zoeya asks with the flick of hair. I can't help but crack a small tiny smile at this.

"Uh, don't you have things to do? Like that art commission you had to do . . . ?" In reality, I wanted to suggest other things . . . But as the mature one, I guide her and myself, as a mentor would do to his apprentice.

 Zoeya whisks her hands and brushes my comment off. 

"Rythian, it doesn't need to be done until, like, next Tuesday, chill," she insists. "We have time to do something fun today! Come on, Ryth!" Zoyea's tone of voice sounds like a whining child. Yet, I can't deny that it's adorable in an odd way.

"Alright, alright," I sigh, and I take a step closer to her and splay my fingers apart in a peaceful gesture. "What do you propose we do?"

"That's why I asked you, silly!" Zoeya snorts and rolls her head to the side.

"Well, I don't know—"

"Come on, anything!" The 'g' in her sentence was held out aggravatingly long. I grunted, thinking of something to do quickl.

 "Let's go return the motorcycle to Will, yeah?" Zoeya groans and flails around in reply. 

"Hey, you said anything," I defend.

 "Something fun, Enderborn." I cringe slightly at the moniker. 

"We could stop by Nilesy's, too! I think he got a new deck of magic cards," Zoeya suddenly suggests happily.

"Although," I add. "We'd have to walk to his house. But I don't think it's extremely far."

Zoeya lets out another disappointed groan and shakes her head.

"When are we gonna get a car?" she whines, pouting a bit on the side.

I snort. "When you get a job, Zoe . . ."

". . . Well," she grumbles, sitting up on the couch. "That's never going to happen."

I give her a reassuring pat on her pale, freckled shoulder, and I turn away to go clean myself up.

"Rythian, there's clean clothes on your bed!" Zoeya calls after me, and I give her an understanding thumbs up.

I clear my way through the clean and well-lit hallway to our room, then with one tap on my bedroom door with my foot, it creaks open.

I've always possessed the weird habit of lurking around rooms until I know it clear . . . Probably because in my adolescent years, my siblings loved to burst into my room, uninvited. The little rascals . . .

I grip my jacket in my fists at the sudden thought. I hate my childhood, and I'm glad I no longer speak to any of the soulless people I associated myself with . . .

My mind instantly clamps the thoughts with an iron fist, and the memories halt and drift back into the cobwebs of my head. I let myself cool down, and with shaky hands, I pull off the clothing I'm sporting and toss in onto the cushy carpet beneath my bony feet.

After a quick time period of me fussing over my spiky hair and attire, I half-troop out of my room. 

However, before I head out, I swing back to my bedside table and examine the various kinds of cologne I have. My finger dances over the various bottles and they curl around a particularly skinny, tall glass vial. I squeeze a couple puffs out and one more for good measure, then placing the vial back on the desk.

 Then, with one last sweet breath of Zoeya's perfume and ancient books, I walk out of the room shutting the door firmly.  Editor's Note: [insert horizontal line here] 

A bell chimes in response to me opening the door, and I shuffle into the large, decorative room with my ginger-haired companion. She spins around and takes in the lovely décor before her, then skipping off to peer inside the glass stands that contain precious, expensive items.

 "Ryth, look at that! That's sooo cool! Can we buy it off him?!" Zoeya exclaims as she waggles a thin, pale finger towards a particular display case. 

"Zoe, look in your wallet," I grunt. "Do you really think we possibly have enough for a gold crusted photo frame?"

"But, just think Rythian!" she argues. "It'd look nice with a picture of us in it!" My heart skips a beat, and I manage to give a small smile.

"Well, I guess it's a good thing to put on our Christmas list, yeah, Zoe?" Her face explodes in a large dimpled grin, and the freckles that dot her cheeks crease into her petite face.  

Behind me, I heard a loud and annoyed fake cough from presumably my friend running the shop. Sighing, I turn myself away from my flatmate to meet the steady toxic green gaze of William Strife.

"Rythian," he states while gently brushing off the soot and oil of his arms. It looks like he's been tinkering with some machines . . . Probably a vehicle of some sort, since he also runs an auto repair shop.  

"Strife," I acknowledge. My lips spills into a smug grin. "You're covered in grease . . . That's not very professional of you."

Strife crinkles his nose in distress as he avoids my gaze in realization. "Well, you just waltzed in here while I was working in the shop," he mumbled. "And, uh, I didn't have time to prepare for your arrival."

"Uh huh," I snort. "Shouldn't a proper businessman have the courtesy to at least wipe off the muck on his forehead?" 

Strife raises a hand and fretfully rubs his head. He looks mildly annoyed to find no residue. "Rythian, I don't have time for your nonsense. What is it you want?" Strife required firmly. I took a couple long strides toward the reception desk and leaned my arm against it. 

"I've come to return your motorcycle, Will."

His nose twitches again. "Are . . . Are you wearing women's perfume?"

"It's jasmine," I smoothly say. "Do I really look like the type of man to wear women's perfume?"

"O-Oh, right, heh." He looks around nervously. ". . . I did say you could keep it as long as you need, did I?"

"Nah, not necessary," I wave my hand around. "I think me and Zoe are going try a save up for a car." My eyes flicker passionately behind me, and at the corner of my eye, I see the mentioned girl stare at a few other items happily.

"Uh huh, good luck with that," Strife says, crossing her arms. I look at him pleadingly. "And do not give me that puppy dog stare! I'm not giving you a discount."

"Who says I'm looking for a discount?" I lean closer to the shorter man and reach up to fiddle with his tie.

"Uh, maybe the fact that you're trying seduce me . . . ?" Strife claims with nervous breath. You could just barely see his face betray a bit of emotion.

 "Mhmm, not true." A wider smile plays on my lips. Will takes a deep breath in and does not exhale until he gingerly removes my fingers from his tie. 

"W-Well, I'll see to it that my bike has no scratches," he excuses himself, the tips of his ears flushed a warm pink.

I open my mouth to get another retort, but before I get a sound out, a bell tinkers, much to Strife's relief.

"Strifeykins!" a noisy voice cries as they close the door with a loud click.

 I don't even have to turn around to see whom it is as Will's soulmate literally successfully jumps over desk and onto his beloved lover. A tall skinny man affectionately nuzzles Strife as he desperately tries to push him away. 

"Parvis, I'm in the middle of something!" Strife snapped with no real bite behind it. Parv lets him go reluctantly, but kept his arm glued to his light haired lover.

 "Heyyy, Rythian, Proasheck, what's up?" Parv drawls and matches his laid back tone with an equally chill grin. Zoeya perks her head up at the mention of her last name. "Hey good lookin', what's cookin's?" The ginger skips over to the reception desk and hops in front of the two men directly in front of me. 

"I don't think anything as of now. Although, I could use some lunch . . ."

 "Didn't you already eat before you went out?" Will interrupts, tapping his fingers in annoyance. 

"You're in a chipper mood today, Will." Parvis says sarcastically, giving Strife an amused gaze with his eyes.

Will huffs angrily and wiggles helplessly to get out of his grip.

"This is really sad sight, you two," Zoeya clasps her hands together. "I guess we can leave you be if you'd like?"

"Oh, no, I'm just messin' around. Lemme go put on some tea! Strifey, take a break." 

Will mumbled angrily as Parvis unwraps his suffocating arm from his torso and disappears into the back, presumably to the flat upstairs. Strife turns back to me and gives me a pleading look.

"Run," he commands. "Run as fast as you can, you two. You'll be stuck for the rest of the day if you don't leave now." Strife says all this with an almost serious tone as he walks to the entrance to change the open sign to closed.

"Alrighty, then! See you later, good lookin'!" Zoeya took me by the crook of my arm and leisurely lead me away outside, and with a final wave of good luck, we were swept into the crowd of the busy streets of London. Zoeya held firmly onto my arm and guided me through the mass.

When you look at the city closely, the chaos isn't as bad as it seems . . . The turbulence of cars and over lapping chatter is strangely familiar. Street vendors and tourist shops propped up on most street corners, and the rich sound of down town blues mixed with the lapping of water dribbling down the side of brick building . . .

I'm a practical man, I admit, but is it possible that both fate and destiny, arms in arms have led me here? My feet slap the pavement with a certain rhythm as I walk coarsely to catch up with the smaller, but somehow faster pace of Zoeya.

__________________________________________________________________________

When I return to my flat, I never forgot the look on my best friend's face.

 She was ready to fucking kill me. 

Nano stood in the doorway of my home with tired, complete with sharp eyes, crazy hair. She was positively fuming. 

Her eyes eyebrows rises up questioningly, and then arches back down as she takes a deep, shaky breath. Nano shoots out her arm and yanks me inside with such force that I almost fell on my arse.

"Lalna fucking Jones, where the hell were you?" Nano demanded, no sympathy in her voice at all. I cringe at this, and I was almost positively sure that I was about to get a beating.

"I . . . I don't . . ." I stammer, my mouth unable to form proper phrases. Nano's nostrils flares, and she releases her grip on my arm to give me a bear hug.

"Ohm who am I fucking kidding?" she cries, and she buries her face in my chest. I pat her reassuringly on the head, unsure of what to do.

"Uh, wow, um, sorry . . ." I apologize sincerely, although awkwardly. "I was drinking . . ."

Nano breaks the hug and looks at me dead in the eye. "What have I told you about drinking?"

"Um . . ." I search my mind hurriedly. Have she told me anything about that . . . ? 

But before I had the chance to respond, her hand flicks me in the nose. "You bastard, I was dead worried about you!" she growls, and she steps back, now back onto her angry and agressive demeanor. "I had to call the police at 3 in the damnmorning," She emphasizes her words heavily. "Where were you? A-Are you hurt or, or—"

I chuckle nervously and wave my hands dismissively. "I, uh, stayed at a . . ." I hesitate. "F-Friend's house." I bite my lip. That totally sounded so convincing . . .

The woman cocks her head and places a hand on her hip. "What kind of 'friend' . . . ?" Her eyes narrows. 

"I . . . I met him at the party," I stutter out.

 "Him? Who's him, Lalna?" 

"Well, oh, u-uh . . ." My face begins to grow hot. "I-It's sort of complicated . . ." 

Nano blinks, and it takes her a small while before she realizes what I mean. Her eyes widen happily. "You mean . . ."

"I think so, yeah," I agree sheepishly.

Nano beams from ear to ear, and both of her eyes sparkle in pride.

"Oh my god, Lalna!" She wraps her short arms unexpectedly around me for another hug.

"But it's . . ." I scratch my head, letting her hug my sides. "It's still weird, Nano . . ."

"Of course its weird, Lal! You're in love!" Nano cries in response, and she lets go of me to do a happy twirl.

I dig my feet further in the parlor carpet.

"I think he hates me, though . . ." I mumble out truthfully. Nano frowns at the comment.

"What do you mean?" she asks, stopping her dance midway.

I shift my weight.

"He just . . . doesn't like me . . ." I admit sadly. "I-I have his eye. Seriously, same blue and everything, but . . ." 

Nano rolls her eyes at that. She rests a hand on my shoulder. 

"Lalnable, I'm sure it's fine!" she assures to me.

"But," I repeat a bit more firmly, and this time, I make the effort to flutter up my eyes to meet hers. "H-He doesn't have my eye, Nano."

Nano falters, and I swear, it was like time had stopped for her . . . Her eyes widen in shock, then she furrows her eyebrows in confusion.

Her voice is shaky, but she tries to remain clear. "M-Maybe it's a mistake . . . May-Maybe you've been waiting so long that you thought..." She trails off.

"I heard a click. A click when I saw him . . ." I mutter, my mind drifting to what happened last night. "I-I felt sick the whole night before seeing him, and even sicker after. Nano, I was so sick, not because of the booze, because of him. I ran out of the party, but it didn't help. The click Nano, the click was rusty. It wasn't right. It is a mistake."

Nano's eyes shrink, and she steps back a little.

"Do you have a picture of him?" She asks quickly. My hands automatically fly down to my pocket, but then I remember that I never took any pictures that night . . . Or, well, at all, really. Do I even have my phone . . . ?

"No," I respond, frowning deeply. "B-But I'm sure that there's something wrong, something seriously wrong . . ." 

With large, sad eyes, Nano plunks on the couch and rests her forehead against her hands.

"Why are you so upset?" I ask uneasily, horrifically dreading the answer.

Nano reaches my gaze with teary eyes. 

"My ma told me stories about a really rare disease when I was little . . ." she explains in a trembling, hushed voice. "It was when someone's born with the wrong eye . . . It wasn't like blindness, or anything like that. It was where they literally got thewrong eye." 

"That's just some bullshit fairy tale, though!" I cry, countering - trying to defend myself from this illusion.

"It's real, Lalna!" she proclaims angrily. "It's real, and you know it because you've heard about it all yourself, do not lie to me!" 

I clench my fists and focus on the pain of my blunt fingernails digging into my palm. 

"We've heard about this stuff everywhere. And it's common, too—"

I pivoted my head to glower at my friend. "It's not common, and no way in hell do I have it!" I interrupt irritably.

Nano opens her mouth as if to say something, but as she hesitates, she clamps her jaw shut.

". . . Are you scared?" she asks gently.

". . ." I shift uncomfortably. "No . . ."

Nano takes a long stride until her short legs bumps against a stubby table.

"Really?"

"I-I'm not . . . !" I fight for breath as I turn my head slowly away from her and towards the floor again.

 "You need to stop ignoring your feelings!" Nano soft features twist venomously. "What the hell does that have do with anything!?" I cry forcefully. "Just tell me what you think, I won't think any less of you." She comes forward, side stepping the table, and stands blatantly in my line of eyesight. Her eyes has soften considerably. 

" . . . I-I just. . ." I stammer out, and I can feel tears welling up at my eyes. "I just . . . don't understand . . ." My lip trembles in fear and confusion.

". . .Neither do I." Nano reaches her small, shaking hands to cup my face and press her tiny nose against mine.

 "But that's okay, because we'll figure this out together, like always." 

I sniffle, and I try my best to match her hopeful smile.

"Like always," I whisper back.

Nano wipes the tears of her face along with the ones rolling down mine, then she returns to her own space and gives me a reassuring pat on the arm.

"A-Alright." She takes a deep breath. "I think the way to confirm this is to check it out with a professional . . ."

I roll my eyes at her statement. "You could have said that before you both broke down . . ."

"I am highly offended, you were crying yourself, mister tough guy!" She grins.

I give her a playful shove, and she returns the smack with a gentle kick to the leg.

"Okay, okay." Nano waves her hand dismissively. "I'm going to go make a call and see if I can figure this mess out." And she walks away to the home phone.

Tiredly, I collapse on the couch and give a very loud, cat-like yawn. 

"Also, get some rest! You look tired," she calls from where she is, and I nod my head slightly in agreement. 

I rest my head on the cushions and drape my arm over the side. My eyelids feel heavy, I notice. I try to resist, but I'm comforted by the sudden, sharp, but smoothing smell of Jasmine . . .

Soon, I give into the persuasion of sleep, and I close my eyes, willing myself to fall asleep.