Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Better Days ❯ Bar Jam Jam ( Chapter 6 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

A/N:I will not hold responsibility for emotional damage inferred by the blatant lack of taste in this chapter. You have been warned.

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"All handmade style bar since 1992."

I raise an eyebrow after reading the sign's romanji footnote.

"Hm...it could just be that my English is rusty...but that really doesn't sound right."

"Nope," Omi giggles, "but since when does English ever sound right?"

"Eh. Good point," I shrug and follow them through the swinging doors.

Okaaay. Now this is getting just a bit weird. The place looks like some sort of island tiki lounge...but the music playing...well, it's like techno versions of old disco classics. As I said: weeiirrd.

Do Ken and Omi seriously picture this as the type of place that I'd hang out at? Or is this some sort of bizarre joke they're having? My confidence in the sincerity of my friends is plummeting, and I'm feeling lousier than ever.

"Omi!" A girl in a grass skirt and two guys (one in a Hawaiian shirt and the other in lace-up bellbottoms [yes, just bellbottoms] ) run over and start chatting. Ok, I guess that answers my curiosity. Apparently, this is the type of place that Omi hangs out at. Egad, and I thought I knew these people!

I need a drink. I plop down at the nearest table and signal a waiter.

"I'll take a white russian, please," I ask.

"A what?" The waiter just stands there with a completely ignorant expression plastered across his face.

He's got to be kidding. Is he deaf or something? "A. White. Russian. Please."

"Please order off the menu, sir."

SAY WHAT?! Do not tell me my lovely friends dragged me to a bar so incompetent that it can't even make something as simple as a fucking white russian! This is an outrage! Inconceivable! This is-

"They have themed names for all the drinks, Yohji. Here, I'll look it up for you."

Ken pauses for a minute and flips through the menu.

"He wants a 'shrunken head deluxe.' Thanks."

Ew. What an unappetizing name for a drink. Maybe it's to discourage people from ordering it-hey wait a minute! Since when does Ken even know what makes up a white russian anyway?! Did I get sucked into some sort of bizzaro universe or something?

I turn to look at Ken and he is of course completely oblivious to the utter shock scrawled across my face. He is not only not noticing my surprise, but is completely preoccupied with bobbing his head and humming along to 'Our House' which just started playing on the speakers.

Yep. Definitely going with bizzaro universe. For sure.

The waiter returns with my drink, which is presented in a little replica of one of those heads on Easter Island. Good god, I had not truly experienced 'tacky' until this day. Who knew what I was missing?

Apparently Ken ordered a drink too. I can't really identify what it is. It's a sort of yellow-orange color....

The glass of his anonymous drink is lifted, leading my attention from the beverage to Ken's face. And time stops. Even with a hideously tacky Easter Island souvenir glass in front of it, his face is gorgeous. He's smiling, and looks so happy. That drink must be something he really likes....

Ah-staring-staring-must stop! Can't let Ken notice I'm staring! I manage to move my gaze downwards, but although I'm not looking at his face, I'm still staring. Oh, bad Yohji! Stop!

Hey! I notice that Ken is wearing the choker I bought him the night of our, uh, 'incident.' He threw a fit about it then, and only wore it 'for the sake of the mission.' Why is he wearing it now? It doesn't...mean something...does it? No, stop being stupid, Yohji. You convinced him how stylish it was. He just wants to look cool at the bar. Yep, that's it.

Oh shit! I forgot to stop staring!

I quickly down the rest of my drink and frantically look for a distraction. There is a bowl (actually, half a coconut) full of sugar packets on the table. I launch into a concentrated attempt at building a tower out of them. It's only three or four packets high by the time Ken notices. He smiles at me. I wince.

"Bored already, Yotan?"

Ah! What is up with this 'Yotan' business? Since when has he used my nickname so many times in twenty-four hours? Why start now? It's not fair!

"Hey, the music's very dance-able."

I stop and listen. It sounds like... 'Disco Inferno'...sigh.

"Yeah but...my drinks a bit rich. I think I'd feel sick dancing right now."

"Oh, Okay."

Ken is practically beaming. What's up with him?

"Like pinball?" Ken's question catches me a bit off guard.

"Er, yeah, sure, I like pinball."

Hey! Great idea Ken! That game takes a lot of concentration. Perfect for distracting me!

"Oh good! You'll really like the one they have here! It's 'Playboy-themed.' Every time you shoot the ramp, it flashes a centerfold of Yuko Ogura. And if you get a 'multi-ball' it-"

"On second thought, I'm not really in the mood for pinball right now."

Quick, where is something to bang my head against? I need to be unconscious A.S.A.P. I do the next best thing and get another drink. Straight alcohol this time. Make that a double.

"Are you feeling ok, Yohji?"

Oh, fuck, why does he have to care? Just leave me alone and let me die....

"Sure...I'm just..." I pause to drain my third glass in one gulp, "super."

Ken's carefree look is slowly being displaced by worry. But the heavens are merciful and he says nothing more.