Original Stories Fan Fiction / Romance Fan Fiction ❯ To Love & Be Loved ❯ The world of Taylor Ito ( Prologue )

To Love & Be Loved

 

Author's Notes: TL/BL is original stuff, fictional so if any relations are total coincidence. It contains explicit languages, nudity, sexuality, and other weirdness along with wackiness to it. If you have weak stomach or isn't a fan of girlxgirl or boyxboy, stop reading and leave before your mind become utterly tainted by the content of the story. Comments are welcome; flames will be tossed back and blow up in your face. If you have nothing nice to say, shut up and not say anything at all to save both of my times and yours. I'm not always keen on updating things, so be patient and no go screaming `update ASAP!!!' because it's annoying. Sometimes I finished it and just haven't got around to update, so best way to find out when I will be updating is to send a PM or email.

 

The world of Taylor Ito

 

You would think that after leaving home for four years, I would miss it. But here I am wondering around doing odd jobs, I don't miss home since I left because there's nothing there for me to miss. Since the passing of my mother, there's no longer anything there for me to linger on. My old man remarried one year after her death, to a woman that's half his own age. It's despicable just thinking about it; he hit me just because I refused to call her my mother and didn't attend the wedding because I chose to hang out with my college friends instead. For sixteen years, he never strikes me until then and it makes me felt so ever betrayed. I ended up tearing all the family photos except for one, one that's only with my mother and me and he's not in it.

 

Taking nothing with me but the photo and the clothes that I'm wearing at that time, and life hasn't been more messed up as it already was. I think I was in and out of rehab for the first year of leaving home, but I managed to clean myself up and start doing odd jobs for some money for my daily needs for food. Soon I saved up enough money to buy a used motorcycle for transportation; I've been clean for a bit over two years now. I still managed to get alcohol and drink every now and then, just not enough to kill me. The pain of betrayal is still there, even after four long years it's still there like yesterday.

 

Recently, I got a job as a support tech. I might be a drunk from time to time, but I'm not bad enough that I'm not up-to-date with the advance of technologies and science. It's a bit of a stressful kind of job, worst when your fellow worker stares at you whenever he's not doing anything. I've been stared at since forever; it's a genetic disorder that caused me to have white hair since I was born. I got my old man's eyes; my mother always said it's those beautiful blue eyes that captured her heart. I am my mother's daughter because I inherited her disease, a genetic disorder that was passed down for generations on her side of the family and there's no known cure for it. Though it affected each person differently, and my mother was always frail and sickly but her eyes was the color of blood. The color that I saw often during my years as a med student, I studied hard so that I could find a cure to make my mother better. Unfortunately, she left this filthy world before I was even done with school.

 

Today has been uneventful day, but now I have to go meet my friends at the club. Yeah, I'm not at a legal age to be in the clue drinking, but I'm legal to go in as long as I don't order alcoholic beverage drinks. I happened to know the owner of the club, well it's because I bartended there for a while a year back. He's good looking, though his partner is a man whore and a total flirt. You can be sure that he would hit on anything that move, yet claiming that he only love the owner and the others were just fun and games. I can't understand how the man let things slide with that horn dog. Then again, love does make you do a lot of dumb things you would never do if you're sane I guess. The club was for homosexual and bisexual people only, it's a place to mingle and maybe find a date whether it be long term or short.

 

I like that place, it's the one place no one would judge me or question me about my hair. I come there frequently, whether to meet up with my friends or just chilling. Dressing in t-shirt, jeans and sneakers, I grabbed my jacket and headed out locking the door behind me. The club is only a few block away, and it's no good to drink and drive so I decided to walk. It's already Autumn and the air is really nice and refreshing, crisp and a bit chilly at this time in the evening but it's not like something I can't handle.

 

Not far away, I can see the glowing neon lights that said: Falling Grace Club. I increased my pace and crossed the street, there's always a line there. It's Friday night and everyone coming from far as another state over or further, I don't know since I never really pay attention that much at this time of the day anyway. I pulled out a pass I always carried with me and flash it to the bouncers at the doorway, they nodded and let me in without having to get in line. I can hear a lot of yelling and stuff from outside when I entered the place; it's large and has a really calming atmosphere as usual. The music was playing on the background as people ordering drinks and talking away, nothing out of the ordinary and no one has yet to request a song and jump onto the empty dance floor just yet.

 

As usual, the dark skin man dressing very casual but stylish in his pants and flowery shirt with a few buttons unbuttoned exposing his toned chest. Sparing me a grin, his brow short almost spiky hair and goatee as he walked over my way, I would say he really looked like a hotshot from a movie scene. He told me before but I can't seem to remember whether he's black or mix like me, now I remember he's half-white and half-Mexican. Because of the mix heritage, he ended up with brown hair and dark complexion with tall stature to boot.

 

“Tee, how's the new job? Any hot guy or girl?” he greeted me in his usual manners. One I wish he didn't have, but that's just how he is and we're friends after all. “It's okay, and there's no hot guy or girl for you. Where's Jimmy? I remember you two are joined by the hips, correct me if I'm wrong.” I said as my eyes searching the place for his partner. “We're on a break right now,” he replied with a hint of sadness in his voice. “So you are asking out here to be your drinking buddy? I'm still underage you know?” I raised a brow at him. “That didn't stop you from getting drunk before,” he snorted at my comment. “That was at your house and you cooked everything dipped in alcohol, you're the one that serve alcohol to a minor. So that makes you as guilty as I am,” I laughed at him. “Damn, you got me again…” he murmured under his breath.

 

“Greg,” a sounding feminine voice was heard as more people filled into all the empty spaces in the club. “Hey sweety,” my friend perked up and eyed the handsome man coming in from the front door. They greet by kissing each other like they're in their home and their hands were groping on each other in places that should be done in public area. “Get a room you two,” I said feeling a headache coming up. “Oh my gosh, it's Tee-Tee!” the young man nearly squealed looking over at me. “Jimmy,” I nodded at him. He's a handsome young fella, with nice blonde hair and very clean shaven, Jimmy looked a lot like a girl due to his feminine persona. “I haven't seen you for two weeks, I miss you so much.” Jimmy gushed as he gives me one of his famously bone-crushing hug making me feel like my eyes was about to pop out of my eye sockets.

 

They were high school sweethearts, I met Jimmy in college and yes he's way older than I am. He's almost thirty now, and a successful doctor also. Greg got the hand-me-down business from his father, so they're well off both financially and as well as their relationship. I was Jimmy's roommate throughout our years as med students, and we did a lot of things together but I always went over the limit and he would always ended up taking care of me. He's like a sister that I never have and never wanted to have.

 

Soon the club started to fill up fast, we got a table and placed our orders and I asked for a bottle of water instead of anything alcoholic. The music started and people filled up the empty dance floor, Greg dragged Jimmy out and danced away though Jimmy insisted on staying with me but I don't see the point in that. Hell, he's one jealous gay guy and things would get nasty if Greg dances with someone else. Believe me, I witness it firsthand a couple of months ago and it still give me chills just thinking about it. Poor Greg had to get about eight stitches on his forehead, because Jimmy give him a bottle to the head causing major uproar outside of the bar we went to a that night. I think we're banned from there after that drama scene unfolded, though I wouldn't come back since the place looked like hell to begin with anyway.

 

I watched them for a while before leaving; it was quite boring since I'm not into dancing. I only come because they invited me to and I rarely dance to begin with. I must say that I wished I didn't leave the club so early, if I knew things took a turn for the worst I would be staying until closing time. Unfortunately, I didn't and it's fine to not know what's going to happen next when I left the place. I was walking home when some kids trying to mug a woman, god knows why when it's only a quarter pass eleven at night. I usually assumed that teenagers should be at the movies with their friends or at home around this time, not wondering the streets mugging strangers.

 

I wasn't trying to be heroic mind you, but it's not like I could turn my back on a helpless strangers being ganged up by stupid teenagers. Something I found out to be stupid of me trying to stop them from mugging, I interrupted them instead of calling the police first. Joyfully, one of those morons actually got a pocket knife, so I got a slash on my right arm before I could disarmed him. I happened to love my jacket, but not it seemed that I need to get a new one since this one got a nice tear on the sleeve. All thanks to the muggers, I would've killed them if they weren't so quick to run away like a bunch of sissy.

 

Oh yeah, when you live in the streets for the first year after leaving home and then working odd jobs, it always helped to know some self-defense moves. I know enough to take on an onslaught of teenagers, but if someone with black belt in some kind of martial arts I would probably be in a lot of troubles. Anyway, enough about that it's not important at this point since the hooligans scattered like pigeons after a little roughen up from me.

 

“Thank you for saving me,” a soft voice said to me. I whirled around about to beat up whoever it was trying to sneak up on me, and I completely forgot that right arm was so messed up that my actions only further induced pain into my already bleeding wound. “Don't walk home alone at this time of night then,” I growled walking away. “But you're bleeding…” the woman exclaimed. “Oh, thank you for pointing out the obvious.” I said feeling a bit light-headed and numbed. “I'm sorry, but let me help you stop the bleeding. My home is just down the street,” the woman was being pretty damn persistence if you asked me. “If I let you stop the bleeding, will you stop bugging me?” I said flatly tired of hearing her.

 

Little did I know that it was a very bad idea to agree in going to her place, since I don't know who she is or what she really looked like at all. Hell, there's not enough light in the street to be able to see someone's face like it was broad daylight. But whatever, as long as she shut up and leave me be I might as well followed her back to her place. It's not like I can't defend myself, so there's not really anything I should be worry about anyway.

 

She lives in a nice loft, a lot of decorated achievement awards on the wall. There's no doubt she's an overachiever or maybe a bookworm, and for the first time I got to see how she really looked under the light of the small living room. She motioned for me to sit down on the beige sofa, and I can really see the trail of blood from the door leading back to me. Gently, she helped took my jacket off and rolled up my sleeve before cleaning up the cut. It seemed that she's not so bad, as she does looked like she knew what the hell she was doing.

 

The woman was elegant, pretty with long raven tresses, and hey beauty is only in the eyes of the beholder. She isn't the gorgeous girl from the magazine like the model or idol, but she looked good enough that I find it hard to tear my eyes away from that pretty feature of hers. Though I would have to say she's older than me for sure, but looking at our hair color you think the opposite and I'm not blaming you if you think that way. I'm not sure how much older she was though, but I'm happy to get my arm fixed regardless. That is until I realized it was done and she was now staring at me with her pretty brown eyes, like an idiot I stared back at her for god knows how long.

 

“How do you get your hair like that?” she finally broke the silence between us. “I dipped my head in bleach,” I said dripping with sarcasm as always. “I would assume that it is a very rare condition to have, and it has to be genetically passed down from one generation to the next. I've seen an albino person before, and you don't look like one. Your eyes aren't red and your complexion isn't sheet pale either,” she said ignoring my comment. It seemed that she really took notice of things about me, especially my hair and eyes and skin tone. Whatever the fact was, it's pretty damn late and I need to get going.

 

“Whatever genetic disorder I have or not isn't any of yours or anyone's concern. Thanks for cleaning up the cut though,” I said flatly getting up and grabbed my jacket. It was kind of shocking when a pair of strong arms wrapped around my waist, stopping me from leaving. Seriously, being hug from behind by a stranger is pretty creepy, and I don't even know the chick's name to begin with. Talk about stupidity, I've completely forgot to asked her for her name or even introducing myself to her at all. “My name is Yuki Kanzaki,” she whispered into my ears like she could read my thoughts. “Taylor Ito,” I murmured, I haven't changed my last name yet. I should though, changed it to my mother's maiden name instead of stuck with my old man's last name.

 

“I've been watching you for a while now,” she said softly to me. “What are you? Some kind of stalker?” I asked trying to free myself from her seemingly iron grip or more like death grip. Shit, I can't tell which one is worse. “I didn't stalk you,” she purred. “Though I have to admit that you're a pretty good dancer and an exceptional lover,” she continued before licking my neck. I shuddered at that, and completely confused with the last part. I don't remember sleeping with anyone in the last month or so, and I haven't danced with anyone in months now. “You smell just like you did that night, smokes and alcohol. I thought it would be a one night stand, but I keep seeing you there with your friends. You look so distant every time I saw you there,” she whispered licking my neck again.

 

“I have no idea what you're talking about woman,” I murmured trying to steady my breathing. Struggling as I might, my right arm was in no position for any kind of pain at this point and she's making it awfully hard on me by pressing her chest against my back. “Three weeks ago, you were talking to that blonde…” she paused taking in a deep breath before nibbling onto my neck. God, it makes my skin crawls just from her action alone. “I feel a stab of jealousy when you got up and left with her all smiling and all of that, I wanted to storm up to you and dragged you away from her. You're supposed to be mine and mine alone,” she purred sucking on my earlobe this time. Actually she was sucking on my earlobe, the damn woman finally loosen her grip on me and that helped me freed myself from her.

 

“Look, I don't know what you're babbling about. I don't date, in fact I never date. I don't sleep with older women, unless I'm completely wasted for some reason. Which probably won't be happening, so stop trying to tell me all that crap you were spewing, I'm not interested in older women.” I firmly put my foot down and told her flat out that I seriously don't know who the hell she was. Even if she looked good enough to eat, there's no way I would slept with her. Yeah, it's great to sound like a complete moron for spewing my personal taste in women to a woman I barely knew. “What you say might be true, but the fact that we spent a night together in a room you rent from the bar is still there also. You were such a flirt that night, so I would say that you're pretty drunk but that didn't affect your sexual performance. That I can assure you that you're very good even for a drunk,” she said deadpan.

 

I shuddered at her remarks, it's kind of creepy to hear someone telling you that you're still awesome in bed even though you're so drunk you probably can't tell the different between black and white. I think the last time I was drunk was two months ago, and yet I managed to dragged my drunken ass home safely without any mishaps. I don't remember what I did after one in the morning that Friday night though, Jimmy and his crooked of a partner was celebrating their anniversary at the bar of all places. I remember Greg being an ass he always was, dared me to get some quiet chick to agree in hitting the sack with me in a room in the back of the bar. Shit, I won the bet and he paid for the room and for my new gaming computer. Yeah, we compete with each other often on one of those online games, and I would always ended up mauling him down only to have Jimmy told me to go easy on the sore loser.

 

“Okay, so I slept with you. It's not like I impregnated you or anything, and even if it was possible it's just a one night stand. As you said before, and there's no meaning or lingering over physical satisfaction. Most people come there for some good fun sex; they don't come there looking for a lifelong partner. You must be out of your mind to think that there's a chance of finding a lifelong partner there,” I said as I started to head for the door. I think I've been pretty polite to her by far, usually I would be swearing by now. I think I'm turning into a softy again, like when my mother was still around.