Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Tamed Madman ❯ Chapter Two ( Chapter 2 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
Chapter Two
The shadow smoothly moved from a blocking position to one for helping me to my feet. He
held my hand like a delicate flower, but firmly enough to aid my ascent. “Young one, are you well?â€
The man was ordinary, scraggly, and unkept. From what I could tell, his face had sharp, pronounced
angles to it, but sloppy stubble hid some of its shape. Obstructing the view of his eyes was greasy, pitch
back hair falling over his gawky glasses. I couldn't determine fully if he was attractive or not. Al-
though it was a pleasant temperature, he wore a loose, long-sleeved shirt. I had removed my hoodie not
long after entering Bound and Profound and if I hadn't, I would have been boiling. He wasn't much
older than me, by my judgment, and it was unclear as to why he would call me young one. He could
have been awkwardly hitting on me in only a way a nerd who left personal hygiene for the newest gam-
ing system could.
I brushed myself off and gratefully replied. “Thanks, I'm fine.†I summoned back the friendli-
ness from Onyx.“And sorry, it was all my fault. Curse this genetic clumsiness.†I laughed at my stupid-
ity for not thinking of alternate ways to get that exact book, in that exact location, that I desired for no
exact reason. “Did you get hurt? Those books must have given you a nice bruise or two.â€
“Be not concerned for me for you are far more precious, my princess.†Princess? Princess? My  ;
princess? Had he genuinely called my his princess. No one had ever dared to nickname me something
like that. This gu y couldn't possibly be for real.
“You're concern is flattering,†I nervously spoke. I was startled, but still relatively in my com-
fort zone. That was until he added to the theatrics and bowed and kissed me on the hand. His bristling
chin scraped over my hand and his lips pressed against my knuckles. Panic raced through my chest, I
ripped my hand from him, and retreated directly backwards. A shelf blocking my path prevented me
from going further. Though I banged my head on one of the protruding ledges, the bookshelf was no
entirely unwanted. I needed distance, but I didn't need to run away. Physical contact from strangers
made me uneasy. I could tolerate when he was helping me, but now it was unnecessary touching.
He stepped forward, cooing, “Don't run from me. I yearn only to feel your soft caress.†My
stomach lurched and twisted in knots. Another pace and my breathing quickened. Onyx was loosing her
chokehold on Kayla and Kayla's fears were winning over rationality. She was on the verge of scream-
ing something along the lines to get the hell away from me and stop acting like a freak. Onyx barely
monitored me enough to restrain me from overreacting in such a manner.
Ann skipped in, her auburn braid swaying at her perpetually jolly pace. “Boss, you're scare cos-
tumers again. Be careful with her she's new. Unless she isn't and do you know her?â€
He distanced himself and said, “Who is a boss? I am prince Wetyuk of the Sop dimension.†He
stood as though he was a noble.
“Prince We tyuk of the Sop dimension, there are new laws that you must approve of this instant.
Your kingdom could be in jeopardy if you don't!†She said it so fluently and intently that if I hadn't
been listening to the nonsense she had been spouting, I would have believed her. She was either a mag-
nificent improvisation actress or crazy. Who knows, she might have been both.
“Oh yes no time to waste! Where are these documents?†Sla ck jawed, I observed the scene un-
folding in front of my eyes. Wait? She called him boss. That means he likely owns the store. How does
a lunatic run a bookstore when he believes he's a prince of whatever from god knows what dimension?
She dug around in her pockets. “They are here, your highness.â€
“Why did you place them carelessly in your garments! And might I say what odd garments
those are.â€
“My clothes are none of your concern and they are here for they are hidden for safety.†She re-
vealed a folded up slip of paper and handed it to him.
“My my, what an intellect I have working in my-†He unfolded the crumpled paper and he
changed. His expression morphed from concern and emergency into cold indifference in under a
second. His feet found each other and his hands met behind his back. At full height, damn he was a
skyscraper. Emotionless, he laid his eyes up and down me. I couldn't tell if he was disgusted with me or
amused with my appearance. I couldn't read what was passing through his head and he didn't care to let
me in. Sauntering in no set direction nor going anywhere fast, he examined the mess I created. The ad-
renalin coursing through my veins reduced and my torso was suddenly too heavy for my wobbly knees
to hold. I found the strength to stand by distracting myself with the curiosity I beheld by the name of
Boss. Besides, it would have been rude to fall without provocation.
“Are you a special kind of stupid,†he accused harshly?
His cruel words caught me off guard and the shock forbade my from making a proper rebuttal.
“What?â€
Ann came to his side at patted him shoulder, half blocking him from me. “Be nice to the new
girl. We want her to return, don't we,†she said, hushed? In comparison, her low talking was equivalent
to my normal and she was clear.
“I'll respond to that question with a question. What do you expect me to say? There were fifty-
two books with varying lengths, widths, and heights. It was poised in such a way that one cannot pull a
book without changing the balance to maintain stability. Thanks to her lack of forethought, a lovely
contusion is forming and narratives are scattered about the carpet.†His focus shifted to me, although he
had been indirectly addressing throughout his rant. “Do you process your actions before you enact
them?â€
“Kolt, enough.â€
He paused and bitterly conceded, “Whatever.†I thought he would leave in peace, but he briefly
continued, “But, my princess, please answer me.â€
Suppressing shivers, I plastered a smile and courteously retorted, “I didn't think, and I'm sorry.
I'll clean this and if there is anything in my power, I'll do anything to ease the bruise's pain. Fair?†My
expression was tight and every word was chosen with the utmost civility I could conjure. I was exag-
gerating my pronunciation, but I didn't want to give him a reason to insult my mental processes one
again.
He acknowled ged me meaninglessly and departed among the stacks. “Onyx, don't you worry
'bout what he said. Been in a sour mood for days and has been downright nasty. Seems to be a rash of
aspiring authors submitting their works 'round the same time and, let's say, they don't tickle his fancy.â€
I was going to inquire about what aspiring authors made his personality rotten, but she didn't stick
around long enough for me to ask.
I mean, I don't want to seem conceited, but I can't deny that I'm hot. My college years had done
wonders for my curves and laboring hours at Cypher kept me away from binge snacking. Thin waist,
moderately wide hips, and a nice face with the proper application of cosmetics rarely made me ignored
by the opposite sex. A pathway of eyes trailed behind me when I was out. Rule number five: men are
so not worth it, but I couldn't dodge the annoyance and wonder at what did appeal to him if I didn't. He
critically wounded two parts of my ego in one minute and half of it wasn't verbal! The nerve of him...
Was it my clothes? It had to be that. No man could withstand the radiance that is me in glamour-mode.
I strode with purpose to my vehicle, after purchasing that book in the twenty-sixth position. Next time I
came, he would not be able to wound my ego with such an eloquence. I spent the rest of that day buried
deep between the pages of the book without disturbance.
****
Cody picked me up the next day to bring me out for a date. It was his payback request for blow-
ing off his texts, but, hands down, I would have loved to dig into the little treasure I found at Bound
and Profound. I had read until the words blurred and my mind was hazed over from the hours of con-
centration and I wasn't halfway through. It wasn't an enormous book, but the word choice was meant to
be chewed over and visualized with care. The world the author crafted was a masterpiece between too
covers. The excuses as to why I couldn’t see him weren't flowing fluently and I speculated that some
time before Cypher could be spared.
Getting beautiful for him was a hellish endeavor. Not only did I have to miss some of my morn-
ing class to be back at my dorm, but I had half an hour. That was no time to do my hair, makeup, find
something suitable to wear, and look decent. I hurried about the confined spaces of my shared room
and haggardly managed to sustain an order in my actions. Clothes first, then makeup, then hair. Date
clothes were the bane of my existence. It wasn't feasible to tell what to and what not to wear. Was
something too elegant or too sloppy or too revealing or covering too much... it drove me positively
mad! I wasted five minutes comparing skirts that were nearly identical, but minor details made me
swap one in front of the other until eeny meeny miney moe determined their fates. The dreaded text to
inform me he had arrived came all too soon and I had not yet touched my hair.
The brush tugged and raked painfully through my head. I spent moments, staring into the mirror
and suppressing Kayla with chloroform. She was out of sight and out of mind and she could come back
when I was alone again. Purse in hand, I darted out to meet him. I was greeted by a heated kiss, but I
had to deny him an extensive one. Making out wasn't my thing. The whole wriggling tongue in my
mouth was uninvited and the slick taste of saliva grossed me out. Overall, I preferred if he stopped act-
ing like a dog after a run and keep his tongue in his mouth and I would do the same. I was proud that I
hadn't bitten his appendage when he acted boldly.
He held my hand over the middle console and gingerly traced the outline of my thumb and
palm. It was a sweet gesture, but I wasn't one to appreciate it. I could imagine how girls would swoon if
a cute guy showed gentleness. I would not suggest that he is not ungodly attractive, but the emotional
attachment was lacking in certain aspects. I may have read too many cliched, fluffy, romance novels in
my idle time, but I expected something. Anything, really. A heartbeat out of place or a stuttering of
speech or-or a part of me that felt that this guy was special to me. Maybe I thought too deeply about it
and I was drowning in love for him. In any case, we are the perfect couple. All the girls told me so and
rated us a whopping ten on the hot scale. The only other person or people they rated a ten was Kevin,
but he was into older women. Cody complimented me in every way; dark green eyes and blond hair
contrasting mine, a healthy tan from sports, muscles sculpted at the gym, and an eager smile. He was a
nine alone, but I elevated him a ten. A guy like that came once a semester.
He discus sed sports on the drive to his place. I think it was football... no, soccer. Basketball? It
was an activity involving a ball, as specific as that is. I nodded and giggled at correct intervals, tempor-
arily pressing ahead and pondering what twists I would encounter on the next page of the twenty-sixth
book. I couldn't recall the title of the twenty-sixth book, so I kept the nickname the skyscraper inadvert-
ently christened it.
I half anticipated him to come over to my side and gentlemanly open my door to me, but I had
anticipated too much. I waited a bit longer within the car to see if the courtesy would occur to him, but
as he made his way into the house, it only made me flustered. His apartment was a studio with a flimsy
wall to indicate a bedroom. The bathroom was the second door and only other door in Cody's resid-
ence. The pathetic bathing room was a tight fit for one, involving fanciful gymnastics to maneuver. He
spent five minutes cleaning at the most and, in that time, created a tract to his couch. The foot-wide
walk way was carpeted and showed me precisely where we would go.
The lumpy furniture granted the metal frame beneath to pressure sensitive points. It needed ad-
ditional cushioning or more support. He needed a new couch, period. It was inconceivable to find a
position that didn't require further shifting. I was still, as to give him the impression that I was situated.
“Want a drink or some food,†he inquired.
I had to think it over meticulously. Answering wrong could give him the wrong notion about
me. Drinks... Water entailed a diet while wine produces an intimate ambiance. His shabby room was
not romantic date material. He didn't have to know I was mid-diet and romance was out for the day. It
was settled, no wine or water. Soda was a primary reply, but unladylike belching would pursue me.
Juice? A fruit juice was  ;harmless to my image.
“Can I get apple or grape juice?†Okay, it wasn't that hard resolving the beverage. Who was I
fooling? It was like answering the question on world peace in the Ms. America pageant.
He squinted dumbly and pondered aloud, “That's kiddish? Don't you want something harder? I
got some beer in the fridge.†Onyx, you are not going to be Ms. America.
My composure drooped, but it was abbreviated to where it went unnoticed. “I thought it was too
early for beer.†I screwed up, but I recovered fast enough. I thought things through logically and it
wasn't right-minded.
“It's ne ver too early for beer,†he smirked charmingly and I had to admire it, flabbergasted. He
was sexy and it was a taste of what I had. God, who needs grammar and brains when angels will fall
from heaven for a smile from him. He ventured through the clutter and knew exactly what he could
step on and what was valuable. My klutzy genes would have broken my neck in his room, but I
wouldn't have been able to handle the disorganization. Cleaning wasn't a hobby or something I did on a
regular, but I wouldn't let my it get to this.
He handed me his can and orientated himself next to me with his arm around my neck. We
resided in silence with one another while we sipped on our beverages. I couldn't stand firm against the
silence further. “Is there anything on TV?†I could watch paint drying and put on the facade that I was
intrigued. Anything was better than nothing.
“What'd you like to watch?†He took the remote off the cabinet that held the tube television. It
was blurry, different from todays standards of flat screens at massive sizes.
I didn't own a television. In high school there were hundreds of channels, but not an individu-
ally passable show. Reality was fake, the fake was evident, and news was bitter and biased. “Um... why
don't you decide. I can't make decisions with so much to choose from.â€
“Let's see what is on.†He flipped to the guide channel and we listened to the terrible, elevator
type music. The drowsy piano music and the pace of the guide's movement was never ending. He must
have seen a show to his liking and he changed the channel. Whistles and cheering erupted from the
straining electronic. “This okay for you?â€
Football, oh joy. No, actually, it wasn't. I hated sports with vehemence. “Football is great!
Fantastic c hoice.†I chided myself for going overboard and acting too ecstatic, considering the context.
Resist tense discussion and unnatural reactions at all costs. It was a challenge to be what I wanted to be,
no matter how long I had done it.
****
My date with Cody was fine. Just fine. We cuddled, kissed, and he told me some stories about
himself. I could get him on a roll where strategically placed questions could involve few contributions
from me to continue a lengthy monologue. If he spoke a higher amount than me there was minimal risk
of a accident. It didn't take loads of effort and zoning out was common. The cuddling on his sofa
inflicted bruises from resting on my hip on a bar. His thick skull seems to have given him thick skin to
match. The contact between us was warm, like sitting beside a fire. His body melded to mine
I was immobile and seriously lacking an inclination to work. I contemplated why people would
Wednesday was a fabulous time to get drunk and I cursed that they did. Erik wouldn't be too terribly
distressed if I called in not to go, but poor college student, meaning me, needs money.
I was at Cypher at ten and I relieved the bartender on the previous shift. I was toiling through
the lines of costumers with requests and orders: devil's poison, royal widow, sea breeze, pink lady, long
island iced tea, vodka sunrise, blue stampede, blood and sand, kremlin colonel, and my bar specialty, a
spiced bloody mary. Bartenders were assigned a cocktail that no other could assemble. Although
another bartender may know the recipe, they were prohibited from making it. All of the specialties were
based off a well-known drink with a twist. The spiced bloody mary was patently a spinoff of a bloody
mary and no surprise there. However, one could order a bloody mary from a worker of his or her
choosing, but not my deviation. Menus listed whose drink was who's, along with the lengthy number of
drinks.
I drudged through. The crowd grew intoxicated and rowdier, but the orders were perpetual.
Don't peo ple have places to go and people to see on Thursdays? I wasn't aware that people could risk a
hangover mid-week. Human nature is truly a baffling thing.
“Can I get a spirited punch,†a tall man called to me, a deal older than me. I would say he was
closer to my father's age than to my own. The drink was whiskey based and packed a punch, as its
name hinted at. Glasses of it made me want to give a spirited punch to the person drinking it. “And also
something an elegant woman would like.†That request was one common with a date, but his order
didn't correspond with that.
“Would an elegant woman like a midsummer night's dream?â€
He put his hand on the counter and got close enough for me to smell the liquor he had already
drank. “I don't know, would she?†Being hit on wasn't too eerie, but he was leaning an awful much and
I could only retreat so far.
Erik was eyeing me worriedly, but he wouldn't interfere yet. The man's  ;advance was noted, but I
was trusted me to handle myself. Erik concerned himself with my safety, but he couldn't be overbearing
towards m e. Right now, he was playing the role of a regular at Cypher. “Sir, if you're referring to me, I
can't drink anything while I'm working.â€
“Aww, your asshole manager won't let you have any fun?â€
Kayla was knocking around in my chest, but Onyx's professionalism kept me rooted. I
committed to a stoic expression and decided not to wait for his spirited punch to make itself. “Please
wait, sir. Your total comes to $7.50.†My hands moved in my station and between the rack with the
alcohol. I didn't permit him to touch me and little gestures were avoided with my sober observation.
I set the glass in front of him with more anger than I intended, sloshing a drop over the side. He
glared, like he knew something that I didn't and left. The brief encounter rattled me, but I was one who
was frightened easily by imposing characters. He was a minor bump in my shift and I was soon caught
in the flow again.
Last I remembered, I was thirsty.
****
I was held down, as if by millions of cotton balls laid over me. It wasn't as though I was
constrained by the world. Its origin was inside my mind that disapproved of me participating in reality.
I clearly wasn't tired and I could tell I was unconscious for a good, long while. I was operational and
more alert then I had had time to sleep for recently.
Indistinctly, it traversed my thoughts that I could be late for something. I didn't know the time,
date, or weekday so I didn't have enough evidence to be fearing. My primary target was to wake up.
The murky depths of my mind were not a place to be taken freely. If it wore a smell, it would inherit on
of smoldering pages and foul decay. Kayla reined as a sadistic dictator when my thoughts could not be
trampled by external forces. Thinking was a dangerous thing. She carried me back to what I was and to
what I always will be. She tarnished the present and beautified the years that Onyx was a word
describing opacity. She legitimately thought that the teasing and status as nerd bestowed to my name
was worth individuality. My stubborn notions of identity were saved for the idealist and not the realist.
A splitting headache cringed my forehead and opened my eyes. The watery slits could discern
my surroundings were strange. “Fuck,†I murmured and rose abruptly. I had been drugged and I had no
clue where I was. I had the symptoms of receiving a date rape drug. I was in unfamiliar surroundings
and left gaps were limpid memories should be. My clothes were intact and I wasn't aching in sensitive
areas so it seemed as though I was secure.
“Hey Kayla.†Oh my lord, it was Erik. Had he drugged me?
“It's not Kayla, it's Onyx,†I reacted on auto-pilot. We didn't talk Hi, how are you it is That's not
m y name.
He was behind me in a chair and I was on a couch. A fluffy blanket settled its threads over my
hips and legs. The TV was turned low and he turned it off entirely. I hadn't been over to where Erik
lived and I had a new environment to take in. “No, it's Kayla.â€
“What the he ll- oh... okay.†I understood that Onyx was on the back burner and he caught the
change in tone. “I don't care. Just tell me the crap I got into last night and how I got here.â€
“Nice to have you back, Kayla. That guy that leaned over the counted slipped a powder into the
water you keep in your station. When you drank your water, you fell hard on the ground. The guy came
back, claiming to be a relative, but I had him removed, banned, and I brought you back here.â€
“Why didn't you tell me that bastard put something in my drink?â€
“I didn't see it, but when he tried to take you, I connected the dots.â€
“Fine, whatever. I will punch that prick so hard that he will be my bitch.†I huffed and puffed,
but that man's straw house would not blow down. “What time is it?â€
â ;€œEleven.â€
“FUCK!â&eur o;
The shadow smoothly moved from a blocking position to one for helping me to my feet. He
held my hand like a delicate flower, but firmly enough to aid my ascent. “Young one, are you well?â€
The man was ordinary, scraggly, and unkept. From what I could tell, his face had sharp, pronounced
angles to it, but sloppy stubble hid some of its shape. Obstructing the view of his eyes was greasy, pitch
back hair falling over his gawky glasses. I couldn't determine fully if he was attractive or not. Al-
though it was a pleasant temperature, he wore a loose, long-sleeved shirt. I had removed my hoodie not
long after entering Bound and Profound and if I hadn't, I would have been boiling. He wasn't much
older than me, by my judgment, and it was unclear as to why he would call me young one. He could
have been awkwardly hitting on me in only a way a nerd who left personal hygiene for the newest gam-
ing system could.
I brushed myself off and gratefully replied. “Thanks, I'm fine.†I summoned back the friendli-
ness from Onyx.“And sorry, it was all my fault. Curse this genetic clumsiness.†I laughed at my stupid-
ity for not thinking of alternate ways to get that exact book, in that exact location, that I desired for no
exact reason. “Did you get hurt? Those books must have given you a nice bruise or two.â€
“Be not concerned for me for you are far more precious, my princess.†Princess? Princess? My  ;
princess? Had he genuinely called my his princess. No one had ever dared to nickname me something
like that. This gu y couldn't possibly be for real.
“You're concern is flattering,†I nervously spoke. I was startled, but still relatively in my com-
fort zone. That was until he added to the theatrics and bowed and kissed me on the hand. His bristling
chin scraped over my hand and his lips pressed against my knuckles. Panic raced through my chest, I
ripped my hand from him, and retreated directly backwards. A shelf blocking my path prevented me
from going further. Though I banged my head on one of the protruding ledges, the bookshelf was no
entirely unwanted. I needed distance, but I didn't need to run away. Physical contact from strangers
made me uneasy. I could tolerate when he was helping me, but now it was unnecessary touching.
He stepped forward, cooing, “Don't run from me. I yearn only to feel your soft caress.†My
stomach lurched and twisted in knots. Another pace and my breathing quickened. Onyx was loosing her
chokehold on Kayla and Kayla's fears were winning over rationality. She was on the verge of scream-
ing something along the lines to get the hell away from me and stop acting like a freak. Onyx barely
monitored me enough to restrain me from overreacting in such a manner.
Ann skipped in, her auburn braid swaying at her perpetually jolly pace. “Boss, you're scare cos-
tumers again. Be careful with her she's new. Unless she isn't and do you know her?â€
He distanced himself and said, “Who is a boss? I am prince Wetyuk of the Sop dimension.†He
stood as though he was a noble.
“Prince We tyuk of the Sop dimension, there are new laws that you must approve of this instant.
Your kingdom could be in jeopardy if you don't!†She said it so fluently and intently that if I hadn't
been listening to the nonsense she had been spouting, I would have believed her. She was either a mag-
nificent improvisation actress or crazy. Who knows, she might have been both.
“Oh yes no time to waste! Where are these documents?†Sla ck jawed, I observed the scene un-
folding in front of my eyes. Wait? She called him boss. That means he likely owns the store. How does
a lunatic run a bookstore when he believes he's a prince of whatever from god knows what dimension?
She dug around in her pockets. “They are here, your highness.â€
“Why did you place them carelessly in your garments! And might I say what odd garments
those are.â€
“My clothes are none of your concern and they are here for they are hidden for safety.†She re-
vealed a folded up slip of paper and handed it to him.
“My my, what an intellect I have working in my-†He unfolded the crumpled paper and he
changed. His expression morphed from concern and emergency into cold indifference in under a
second. His feet found each other and his hands met behind his back. At full height, damn he was a
skyscraper. Emotionless, he laid his eyes up and down me. I couldn't tell if he was disgusted with me or
amused with my appearance. I couldn't read what was passing through his head and he didn't care to let
me in. Sauntering in no set direction nor going anywhere fast, he examined the mess I created. The ad-
renalin coursing through my veins reduced and my torso was suddenly too heavy for my wobbly knees
to hold. I found the strength to stand by distracting myself with the curiosity I beheld by the name of
Boss. Besides, it would have been rude to fall without provocation.
“Are you a special kind of stupid,†he accused harshly?
His cruel words caught me off guard and the shock forbade my from making a proper rebuttal.
“What?â€
Ann came to his side at patted him shoulder, half blocking him from me. “Be nice to the new
girl. We want her to return, don't we,†she said, hushed? In comparison, her low talking was equivalent
to my normal and she was clear.
“I'll respond to that question with a question. What do you expect me to say? There were fifty-
two books with varying lengths, widths, and heights. It was poised in such a way that one cannot pull a
book without changing the balance to maintain stability. Thanks to her lack of forethought, a lovely
contusion is forming and narratives are scattered about the carpet.†His focus shifted to me, although he
had been indirectly addressing throughout his rant. “Do you process your actions before you enact
them?â€
“Kolt, enough.â€
He paused and bitterly conceded, “Whatever.†I thought he would leave in peace, but he briefly
continued, “But, my princess, please answer me.â€
Suppressing shivers, I plastered a smile and courteously retorted, “I didn't think, and I'm sorry.
I'll clean this and if there is anything in my power, I'll do anything to ease the bruise's pain. Fair?†My
expression was tight and every word was chosen with the utmost civility I could conjure. I was exag-
gerating my pronunciation, but I didn't want to give him a reason to insult my mental processes one
again.
He acknowled ged me meaninglessly and departed among the stacks. “Onyx, don't you worry
'bout what he said. Been in a sour mood for days and has been downright nasty. Seems to be a rash of
aspiring authors submitting their works 'round the same time and, let's say, they don't tickle his fancy.â€
I was going to inquire about what aspiring authors made his personality rotten, but she didn't stick
around long enough for me to ask.
I mean, I don't want to seem conceited, but I can't deny that I'm hot. My college years had done
wonders for my curves and laboring hours at Cypher kept me away from binge snacking. Thin waist,
moderately wide hips, and a nice face with the proper application of cosmetics rarely made me ignored
by the opposite sex. A pathway of eyes trailed behind me when I was out. Rule number five: men are
so not worth it, but I couldn't dodge the annoyance and wonder at what did appeal to him if I didn't. He
critically wounded two parts of my ego in one minute and half of it wasn't verbal! The nerve of him...
Was it my clothes? It had to be that. No man could withstand the radiance that is me in glamour-mode.
I strode with purpose to my vehicle, after purchasing that book in the twenty-sixth position. Next time I
came, he would not be able to wound my ego with such an eloquence. I spent the rest of that day buried
deep between the pages of the book without disturbance.
****
Cody picked me up the next day to bring me out for a date. It was his payback request for blow-
ing off his texts, but, hands down, I would have loved to dig into the little treasure I found at Bound
and Profound. I had read until the words blurred and my mind was hazed over from the hours of con-
centration and I wasn't halfway through. It wasn't an enormous book, but the word choice was meant to
be chewed over and visualized with care. The world the author crafted was a masterpiece between too
covers. The excuses as to why I couldn’t see him weren't flowing fluently and I speculated that some
time before Cypher could be spared.
Getting beautiful for him was a hellish endeavor. Not only did I have to miss some of my morn-
ing class to be back at my dorm, but I had half an hour. That was no time to do my hair, makeup, find
something suitable to wear, and look decent. I hurried about the confined spaces of my shared room
and haggardly managed to sustain an order in my actions. Clothes first, then makeup, then hair. Date
clothes were the bane of my existence. It wasn't feasible to tell what to and what not to wear. Was
something too elegant or too sloppy or too revealing or covering too much... it drove me positively
mad! I wasted five minutes comparing skirts that were nearly identical, but minor details made me
swap one in front of the other until eeny meeny miney moe determined their fates. The dreaded text to
inform me he had arrived came all too soon and I had not yet touched my hair.
The brush tugged and raked painfully through my head. I spent moments, staring into the mirror
and suppressing Kayla with chloroform. She was out of sight and out of mind and she could come back
when I was alone again. Purse in hand, I darted out to meet him. I was greeted by a heated kiss, but I
had to deny him an extensive one. Making out wasn't my thing. The whole wriggling tongue in my
mouth was uninvited and the slick taste of saliva grossed me out. Overall, I preferred if he stopped act-
ing like a dog after a run and keep his tongue in his mouth and I would do the same. I was proud that I
hadn't bitten his appendage when he acted boldly.
He held my hand over the middle console and gingerly traced the outline of my thumb and
palm. It was a sweet gesture, but I wasn't one to appreciate it. I could imagine how girls would swoon if
a cute guy showed gentleness. I would not suggest that he is not ungodly attractive, but the emotional
attachment was lacking in certain aspects. I may have read too many cliched, fluffy, romance novels in
my idle time, but I expected something. Anything, really. A heartbeat out of place or a stuttering of
speech or-or a part of me that felt that this guy was special to me. Maybe I thought too deeply about it
and I was drowning in love for him. In any case, we are the perfect couple. All the girls told me so and
rated us a whopping ten on the hot scale. The only other person or people they rated a ten was Kevin,
but he was into older women. Cody complimented me in every way; dark green eyes and blond hair
contrasting mine, a healthy tan from sports, muscles sculpted at the gym, and an eager smile. He was a
nine alone, but I elevated him a ten. A guy like that came once a semester.
He discus sed sports on the drive to his place. I think it was football... no, soccer. Basketball? It
was an activity involving a ball, as specific as that is. I nodded and giggled at correct intervals, tempor-
arily pressing ahead and pondering what twists I would encounter on the next page of the twenty-sixth
book. I couldn't recall the title of the twenty-sixth book, so I kept the nickname the skyscraper inadvert-
ently christened it.
I half anticipated him to come over to my side and gentlemanly open my door to me, but I had
anticipated too much. I waited a bit longer within the car to see if the courtesy would occur to him, but
as he made his way into the house, it only made me flustered. His apartment was a studio with a flimsy
wall to indicate a bedroom. The bathroom was the second door and only other door in Cody's resid-
ence. The pathetic bathing room was a tight fit for one, involving fanciful gymnastics to maneuver. He
spent five minutes cleaning at the most and, in that time, created a tract to his couch. The foot-wide
walk way was carpeted and showed me precisely where we would go.
The lumpy furniture granted the metal frame beneath to pressure sensitive points. It needed ad-
ditional cushioning or more support. He needed a new couch, period. It was inconceivable to find a
position that didn't require further shifting. I was still, as to give him the impression that I was situated.
“Want a drink or some food,†he inquired.
I had to think it over meticulously. Answering wrong could give him the wrong notion about
me. Drinks... Water entailed a diet while wine produces an intimate ambiance. His shabby room was
not romantic date material. He didn't have to know I was mid-diet and romance was out for the day. It
was settled, no wine or water. Soda was a primary reply, but unladylike belching would pursue me.
Juice? A fruit juice was  ;harmless to my image.
“Can I get apple or grape juice?†Okay, it wasn't that hard resolving the beverage. Who was I
fooling? It was like answering the question on world peace in the Ms. America pageant.
He squinted dumbly and pondered aloud, “That's kiddish? Don't you want something harder? I
got some beer in the fridge.†Onyx, you are not going to be Ms. America.
My composure drooped, but it was abbreviated to where it went unnoticed. “I thought it was too
early for beer.†I screwed up, but I recovered fast enough. I thought things through logically and it
wasn't right-minded.
“It's ne ver too early for beer,†he smirked charmingly and I had to admire it, flabbergasted. He
was sexy and it was a taste of what I had. God, who needs grammar and brains when angels will fall
from heaven for a smile from him. He ventured through the clutter and knew exactly what he could
step on and what was valuable. My klutzy genes would have broken my neck in his room, but I
wouldn't have been able to handle the disorganization. Cleaning wasn't a hobby or something I did on a
regular, but I wouldn't let my it get to this.
He handed me his can and orientated himself next to me with his arm around my neck. We
resided in silence with one another while we sipped on our beverages. I couldn't stand firm against the
silence further. “Is there anything on TV?†I could watch paint drying and put on the facade that I was
intrigued. Anything was better than nothing.
“What'd you like to watch?†He took the remote off the cabinet that held the tube television. It
was blurry, different from todays standards of flat screens at massive sizes.
I didn't own a television. In high school there were hundreds of channels, but not an individu-
ally passable show. Reality was fake, the fake was evident, and news was bitter and biased. “Um... why
don't you decide. I can't make decisions with so much to choose from.â€
“Let's see what is on.†He flipped to the guide channel and we listened to the terrible, elevator
type music. The drowsy piano music and the pace of the guide's movement was never ending. He must
have seen a show to his liking and he changed the channel. Whistles and cheering erupted from the
straining electronic. “This okay for you?â€
Football, oh joy. No, actually, it wasn't. I hated sports with vehemence. “Football is great!
Fantastic c hoice.†I chided myself for going overboard and acting too ecstatic, considering the context.
Resist tense discussion and unnatural reactions at all costs. It was a challenge to be what I wanted to be,
no matter how long I had done it.
****
My date with Cody was fine. Just fine. We cuddled, kissed, and he told me some stories about
himself. I could get him on a roll where strategically placed questions could involve few contributions
from me to continue a lengthy monologue. If he spoke a higher amount than me there was minimal risk
of a accident. It didn't take loads of effort and zoning out was common. The cuddling on his sofa
inflicted bruises from resting on my hip on a bar. His thick skull seems to have given him thick skin to
match. The contact between us was warm, like sitting beside a fire. His body melded to mine
I was immobile and seriously lacking an inclination to work. I contemplated why people would
Wednesday was a fabulous time to get drunk and I cursed that they did. Erik wouldn't be too terribly
distressed if I called in not to go, but poor college student, meaning me, needs money.
I was at Cypher at ten and I relieved the bartender on the previous shift. I was toiling through
the lines of costumers with requests and orders: devil's poison, royal widow, sea breeze, pink lady, long
island iced tea, vodka sunrise, blue stampede, blood and sand, kremlin colonel, and my bar specialty, a
spiced bloody mary. Bartenders were assigned a cocktail that no other could assemble. Although
another bartender may know the recipe, they were prohibited from making it. All of the specialties were
based off a well-known drink with a twist. The spiced bloody mary was patently a spinoff of a bloody
mary and no surprise there. However, one could order a bloody mary from a worker of his or her
choosing, but not my deviation. Menus listed whose drink was who's, along with the lengthy number of
drinks.
I drudged through. The crowd grew intoxicated and rowdier, but the orders were perpetual.
Don't peo ple have places to go and people to see on Thursdays? I wasn't aware that people could risk a
hangover mid-week. Human nature is truly a baffling thing.
“Can I get a spirited punch,†a tall man called to me, a deal older than me. I would say he was
closer to my father's age than to my own. The drink was whiskey based and packed a punch, as its
name hinted at. Glasses of it made me want to give a spirited punch to the person drinking it. “And also
something an elegant woman would like.†That request was one common with a date, but his order
didn't correspond with that.
“Would an elegant woman like a midsummer night's dream?â€
He put his hand on the counter and got close enough for me to smell the liquor he had already
drank. “I don't know, would she?†Being hit on wasn't too eerie, but he was leaning an awful much and
I could only retreat so far.
Erik was eyeing me worriedly, but he wouldn't interfere yet. The man's  ;advance was noted, but I
was trusted me to handle myself. Erik concerned himself with my safety, but he couldn't be overbearing
towards m e. Right now, he was playing the role of a regular at Cypher. “Sir, if you're referring to me, I
can't drink anything while I'm working.â€
“Aww, your asshole manager won't let you have any fun?â€
Kayla was knocking around in my chest, but Onyx's professionalism kept me rooted. I
committed to a stoic expression and decided not to wait for his spirited punch to make itself. “Please
wait, sir. Your total comes to $7.50.†My hands moved in my station and between the rack with the
alcohol. I didn't permit him to touch me and little gestures were avoided with my sober observation.
I set the glass in front of him with more anger than I intended, sloshing a drop over the side. He
glared, like he knew something that I didn't and left. The brief encounter rattled me, but I was one who
was frightened easily by imposing characters. He was a minor bump in my shift and I was soon caught
in the flow again.
Last I remembered, I was thirsty.
****
I was held down, as if by millions of cotton balls laid over me. It wasn't as though I was
constrained by the world. Its origin was inside my mind that disapproved of me participating in reality.
I clearly wasn't tired and I could tell I was unconscious for a good, long while. I was operational and
more alert then I had had time to sleep for recently.
Indistinctly, it traversed my thoughts that I could be late for something. I didn't know the time,
date, or weekday so I didn't have enough evidence to be fearing. My primary target was to wake up.
The murky depths of my mind were not a place to be taken freely. If it wore a smell, it would inherit on
of smoldering pages and foul decay. Kayla reined as a sadistic dictator when my thoughts could not be
trampled by external forces. Thinking was a dangerous thing. She carried me back to what I was and to
what I always will be. She tarnished the present and beautified the years that Onyx was a word
describing opacity. She legitimately thought that the teasing and status as nerd bestowed to my name
was worth individuality. My stubborn notions of identity were saved for the idealist and not the realist.
A splitting headache cringed my forehead and opened my eyes. The watery slits could discern
my surroundings were strange. “Fuck,†I murmured and rose abruptly. I had been drugged and I had no
clue where I was. I had the symptoms of receiving a date rape drug. I was in unfamiliar surroundings
and left gaps were limpid memories should be. My clothes were intact and I wasn't aching in sensitive
areas so it seemed as though I was secure.
“Hey Kayla.†Oh my lord, it was Erik. Had he drugged me?
“It's not Kayla, it's Onyx,†I reacted on auto-pilot. We didn't talk Hi, how are you it is That's not
m y name.
He was behind me in a chair and I was on a couch. A fluffy blanket settled its threads over my
hips and legs. The TV was turned low and he turned it off entirely. I hadn't been over to where Erik
lived and I had a new environment to take in. “No, it's Kayla.â€
“What the he ll- oh... okay.†I understood that Onyx was on the back burner and he caught the
change in tone. “I don't care. Just tell me the crap I got into last night and how I got here.â€
“Nice to have you back, Kayla. That guy that leaned over the counted slipped a powder into the
water you keep in your station. When you drank your water, you fell hard on the ground. The guy came
back, claiming to be a relative, but I had him removed, banned, and I brought you back here.â€
“Why didn't you tell me that bastard put something in my drink?â€
“I didn't see it, but when he tried to take you, I connected the dots.â€
“Fine, whatever. I will punch that prick so hard that he will be my bitch.†I huffed and puffed,
but that man's straw house would not blow down. “What time is it?â€
â ;€œEleven.â€
“FUCK!â&eur o;