章 6: Steps to Vengeance (Part two)
"Nice piercing." Ian comments, eying my belly button.
"Thanks." I answer with dry amusement.
"His eyes are up in his face, Ian." Tim hisses from his place on the couch. I snort as Ian looks back at Tim with a deadpan expression that screams: I'm not hitting on him. Chill, dude. At Tim's left side Raphael sighs.
"Are you sure you want to wear that?"
"It's an underground club." I roll my eyes, their sudden overprotectiveness is not appreciated. "Also, why is everyone throwing shit at my fashion choices but you are fine with Ian's? He's also showing skin, you know?"
A collective shrug meets my words. Assholes.
"I'm a model." Ian tells me with a quirk of his lips. "They're more used to it. Plus you rarely use anything that isn't a high neck with long sleeves. Seeing you without them is weird."
Which, good point. But I didn't have to like it, and I certainly didn't have to take it with grace so I sent him a nasty glare in response. Ian rolled his eyes good-naturally and continued to fix his hair in a ponytail. I sighed irritably before doing the same, in moments like this I longed to cut my hair but alas, Tim liked it long better.
"Are you two done?" Nick asks as he reenters the room, Drake behind him.
"Almost."
Nick purses his lips, looking me up and down. "Is that what you are wearing?"
I give up and throw my hands up in frustration, trying to ignore the chuckles that seem to emerge from my friends' mouths. This was just ridiculous.
…
The further we went into the Red-District, the more eyes lingered in us. I can't really blame them, I would too if I was in their position.
Ian's a natural beauty that's just made more enticing by the scar running at one side of his mouth and his intense gaze, he carries a wind of danger even if by his looks alone you can tell he's rich and spoiled. He walks gracefully and his height does wonders in making people pay attention.
Nick is more handsome than pretty, his blue eyes are like ice. Mouth firmly set on a tight line, he observes our surroundings with the same lazy attitude a big-cat would. Dressed in a suit, he gives more bodyguard vibes than anything.
The V-formation doesn't help, I'm sure.
But it is the way they're used to. Both Ian and Nick still move around like members of a gang, or more specifically like the right-hand of someone. Not surprising when Strays (and Purple Dragons, in Nick's case) were a fundamental part of their formative years.
I was different.
Even back then when I was part of Strays, I was never a follower. Never someone's right hand. Me and Jason? We were equals. Asahi too. Yes, even when Asahi became Leo, and we started treating him a little more deferentially, it was mostly as a jest.
And after…
Well, I was more like a lone wolf.
It didn't sicken me to be flanked by them but it did make my skin itch. I tried to ignore the discomfort as we walked, knowing they wouldn't understand and I had no desire to explain the inner-working of my admittedly crazy-brain.
"Stay with me." I warn as the hotel comes into view.
"Sure thing." Ian says, looking vaguely uncomfortable. "I have no desire to be left alone. These people are looking at me with more hunger than most agents have in my career. It's creepy."
I snort.
"We're in the Red-District, what were you expecting?"
"Not this, that's for sure. Although maybe I should have…" Ian shakes his head. "Drake grew up in a place like this, didn't he? I can't imagine it."
"Because he's a sap?" I tilt my head to the left, so I'm able to see his expression more clearly. He's flushing at my remark, glancing quickly at Nick before advertising his eyes quickly. Nodding sharply.
Nick frowns.
"I think my mate is the way he is because he grew up in a place like this." The blond says, hesitatingly.
"It would make sense." I agree with a sad smile. "After seeing how people threw around disrespect to their partners, it's no wonder he's such a romantic bastard."
Nick's frown gets cleared, he nods with confidence. His eyes even soften and it's weird how much his expression changes when he thinks about Drake; they're in love. It's easy to see. It makes me want to cry but I limit myself to avert my gaze.
The hotel is full of laughs and drunk cheers, the music in the background is so strong that the lyrics are distorted. The place is full of a synthetic scene that makes all of us wince a little; it does little to cover the smell of sweat and… ah, other fluids.
I practically drag Ian with me as I find the gorila standing against a wall, Nick follows a step behind.
"Cheers. I would like a red-wine, please." I say with a sharp smile.
The bulky bouncer arches an eyebrow. The mirror-glasses are in the middle but by the movement of his head, small as they were, I can tell he checks us up and down before nodding. He puts a silver coin in my hand.
I whisper a thanks before reaching for the bar.
Ian's expression is placid enough, his arm firmly intertwined with mine. He's good at pretending to be nothing but arm-candy but I can feel how tense he is, his confusion is obvious too. I pat his arm to soothe him a little.
This is so obviously not his speed.
The bartender accepts the coin with a cheerful smile, gesturing us to a semi-hidden door next to the bar. Nick scoffs as we redirect our steps towards it and when he talks, his tone is disdainful. Ishmal, he's practically scrunching his nose like he just smelled shit.
"Bad security." He says.
"This is an underground club, Nick. Not a meeting-point." I huff amusedly. "You're supposed to have fun here, not talk business."
"And yet, here we are."
"It's innocuous enough to work."
The door closed behind us with a heavy, metallic clank. It would be ominous if it wasn't because once the noise we had left behind was muffled, a calm piece of jazz could be heard in the distance.
The stairs were illuminated by pink-neon lines engraved in the walls.
"Don't get cold feet now." I tease softly as I drag Ian forward. "Show's about to start."
"Right back at you, brother." Ian says with a smirk.
My lips curl into a sharp smile.
Nick hums, fingers softly pressing down just where my neck connects with the back. A show of support; of reassurance.
The atmosphere is completely different from the hotel upstairs. The lights are down, leaving shadows all over the place. The music is classic, fluttering, barely there. The room smells of various perfumes and smoke from cigars.
My eyes immediately land on the table the Jin prefers. My feet guide us there with ease, my hips swinging slightly and doing my best to emit something close to happy-satisfaction-confidence as I cross the room.
"Little butterfly, such a pleasure you were able to join us today." Ran immediately says, a foxlike smile present on his lips. If he's surprised by my companions, he doesn't show it. He gestures for us to take a seat.
Ian smiles; pleasant, not many teeth. It's his renowned-model one.
"Such a gentleman." Ian says, eyes narrowing as he eyes the beta. He and Nick don't let me have another choice but to sit in the middle.
"To my friends? Always." Ran laughs.
"You changed your hair." I note, not bothering hiding my curiosity.
"We're mourning." Shun informs me.
Both brothers had changed their looks: Ran had cut his short in a more masculine style, and was now dyed a dark purple. Shun, the younger sibling, has also dyed his hair but his is more of a pale lilac than purple. It's also in a different style, more feminine.
It's almost as if they had exchanged aesthetics.
But that's not what steals my attention. No, what demands my attention is their eyes. They're not sad, not really. At least not for themselves, or for the person they're mourning. In fact, it's almost as if…
"Mourning?" I repeat slowly.
A bad feeling developing faster than I can blink. It hits me hard, my breath is caught in my lungs as I realize that the look in their eyes is pity.
"We may not be pack, Butterfly. But we are sorry for your loss." Shun speaks, calm and collected. Almost as if he was trying to not spook me.
It doesn't work.
"How do you know about that?"
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