Untitled Story #YourMama
Mar. 6th, 2006 09:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kageisukeSeries Title : Caster College
Series Rating : PG-13 - NC-17
Word Count : 6,231
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6 : I’m not your buddy
It was a few hours later when the drunken bunch of men stumbled into the elevators. They laughed loudly and banged against the walls as they made their way to their dorm rooms. Blaine and Blake disappeared into Blake’s room. Craig and Thomas took the stairs up to the next floor because they stupidly got off the elevator on the wrong floor. Schwanz bounced around until he disappeared into his room. They heard him start to sing a random song in another language before it shut behind him. Ryan wobbled by the third door as Traine went into his own room. He barely managed to swipe his card before getting the overwhelming urge to puke. He ran into his room and fell in front of his toilet. His stomach heaved and the bile came up.
God. He knew he was going to drink too much.
He dragged away from the toilet and pulled the trashcan up beside the bed just in case. He fell face down into the pillow and slipped into unconsciousness.
Traine rubbed his head. It hurt like a bitch, but was no worse than what everyone else was feeling. He got up and drank an entire glass of orange juice before taking a shower. He pulled on boxers and scratched his crotch.
Last night had been pretty fun. Ryan was cool to hang out with and could obviously hold his liquor. He didn’t piss him off, so next time they went out, he’d drag him along. Maybe then he’d find him a girl to fuck, ‘cus he was still a little stiff...
Schwanz chuckled and nodded. He shifted the phone to his other ear and smiled again. “Yes, Kris. I know. No, Icchan hasn’t... I understand but...” He sighed. “Stop cutting me off. I’m not a child.” There was silence on the other line, then loud laughter that made him pull his ear away from the speaker.
“Don’t tell me you’re not a child when you still bounce around like a 5 year old.”
Schwanz frowned. “Don’t tell me I’m a child when you get a stick up your ass over the school doctor.”
“He can’t be trusted! What kind of doctor can fight like that?!”
“He hasn’t ever fought you. He just dodged everything.”
“That’s what I mean! If he’s a doctor and not a fighter, why does he have such good reflexes? He must train!”
There was a snapping and a whiz of air as Schwanz opened a can.
“What are you drinking?
“Smirnoff Ice in a liter can.”
Schwanz leaned back into his pillow and listened to the ninja sigh.
“Just don’t drink yourself to death, okay? “
“Will do.” He saluted the phone’s base that was plugged up and sitting on his dresser.
“Alright smart ass, I’ll call you when my plane is about to take off.”
“Okay. See you later.”
“Right. Goodbye.”
Schwanz put down the phone and took another gulp of his Smirnoff. He wished he could have gone with Kris, but both Kris and his mother had said no. He frowned at the memory. Kris was just being mean, and his mother was being highly overprotective... as usual...
He stared at the can and his lip puffed out. No one took him seriously and it was irritating. He shrugged. Oh well. It wasn’t like he couldn’t prove himself at any time. He would just enjoy his time with Mr. Smith.
The sheets shifted around his waist as he twisted. His eyes cracked open to look at fuzzy surroundings. Eyes attracted to the light, Blake squinted to try and focus. One o’clcok. He groaned and sat up. He had a fucking headache and was tired as shit.
Stumbling into the bathroom, he unzipped his fly and started to let out a breath that turned into a curse as he saw the stream shoot out to the right and into the tub. “Well shit...” There was so no use in trying to get it into the toilet. At least it wasn’t all over the wall or something. He stepped closer to the tub so when it tapered off it wouldn’t dribble onto the floor.
He finished, flicked, and zipped up. He dragged into the living room and briefly looked at the blonde sprawled on his couch. He blinked, then went into the kitchen. Taking out a bottle of water, he gulped it down and let out a belch before tossing it towards the trashcan. He didn’t bother to stay and see if it made it in.
Blake recollapsed onto the floor beside the couch and was knocked out for a few more hours.
When he re-awoke, the clock on the TV display projected 8:38PM. It was time to get up and try to resume a semi-normal schedule. He went back to the bathroom to do his business before going to the kitchen. He opened the fridge and emptied another bottle of water.
He took out a pan, placed it on the stove, and turned on the oven. He clicked a few buttons and 6 eggs were cracked into a bowl that rose out of the countertop. He whisked them together as cheese and a mixture of salt and pepper dropped in from above. With a few more presses of various buttons, sausage and bacon fell into the pan and started to fry. Biscuit dough was plopped onto a cooking sheet in even rows and Blake stopped whisking long enough to put them in the oven.
He tossed the whisk into the sink and went back out into the living room. That was when he first noticed that Blaine was gone. He lifted an eyebrow. He knew the bastard hadn’t left yet.
Blake went to his room. He felt his eyebrow quirk at the sight of Blaine on his bed, face peacefully nestled in his pillow. The bastard had probably gotten up to piss and took the opportunity to take over his vacated bed.
He left the room to return to the kitchen. He flipped the sausage and bacon, checked on the biscuits through the oven window, and put another pan on the stove for the eggs. He put two glasses on the counter and rummaged through the icebox for something to put in them.
He pulled out a carton of orange juice and stared back at the grape juice sitting on the top rack. He slammed it shut and poured a different juice into each glasses. He wanted orange juice and there was only enough for one glass, and fuck Blaine if he didn’t like grape. He wasn’t going to go completely out of his way.
The bacon and sausage were left to drain on a paper towel. Blake banged around under the sink and found a medium sized pan. He hefted it in his hand. It was a good size without any pronounced edges on the bottom.
He walked into the bedroom and slammed it on his dresser.
Nothing.
“Get up Blaine. Breakfast is almost ready.”
Still nothing.
He took the pan and hurled it at the body. It hit with an audible and painful sound. There wasn’t so much as a twitch, but Blake knew it had done its job.
There was a yawning groan as Blaine’s head rubbed against the pillow. As he rotated to face Blake, his hair smoothed back against his head. He attempted to pin him with his eyes, but they were too filled with sleep to be effective. He blinked a few times and rubbed at the spot on his back where the pot had hit him. That was sure to become a bruise.
“You’re a sadistic fuck...”
“Breakfast.” Blake left the room to cook the eggs.
Blaine stretched, wincing at the throbbing pain that came back with a vengeance for agitating his bruised flesh. He went into the bathroom and washed his hands when he was done. Looking into the mirror, his hands ran through his hair to straighten the barely mussed strands.
He plopped down into a chair at the kitchen table and watched Blake step around the kitchen gathering up the bowls and plates of food. Spreading them out over the table, he got the glasses of juice and set one down in front of Blaine and the other one in front of the vacant chair he was going to sit in later.
Blaine drank his juice as Blake disappeared into his bedroom. He let out a long breath that served as a burp and went to the refrigerator to refill his glass.
There was a knock on the door and Blaine ignored it. He put the carton back and closed the door. There was another knock and Blaine started towards the door, sipping his drink on the way.
He pushed the button and it opened to show Craig. They stared at each other.
Craig leaned back to look at the door plate posted beside the opening. Room #321, Erics. He looked back at Blaine.
“What?”
“Uh... I was just wondering if Blake was going to come out with us tonight...”
“Don’t know.” Blaine turned and shouted back into the room, “YOU PLAN ON GOING OUT TONIGHT BLAKE?!”
There was no answer. Blaine sipped on his drink and waited.
There was the sound of footsteps on tile that paused, then started again and disappeared once he crossed over onto the carpet.
“No.” Blake appeared from around the corner. “Who the hell told you to answer the door? This isn’t your room.”
Craig stared at them both questioningly. He could be putting too much into it, but they were both only wearing boxers and he could smell bacon and sausage from inside. Breakfast at 9:30 at night?
“He was knocking,” Blaine said with a shrug and sauntered away to the kitchen.
Blake let out a low growl. He was perfectly aware of how wrong it looked and he knew Blaine didn’t care what anyone thought.
“What the hell did you want, Craig? I have a fucking headache.” Or he did now that Blaine had answered the door.
“We were just wondering if you were coming out with us tonight.”
“No.”
“Why not!” came a whiney voice. Schwanz bounced down the hallway and stopped in front of the open door. “It’ll be fun!”
“I don’t want to, that’s why!”
“You’re no fun!” Schwanz sprinted past him and into the entrance way. He flicked his shoes off in two quick movements and spun around the corner. “HI BLAINE!”
“Get the FUCK out of my house you little fucker!” Blake turned on his heel and stormed back inside leaving a confused Craig outside.
“Ooooooh! Breakfast! I want some!”
“That’s Blake’s food. He’ll get mad if you eat it,” Blaine told him.
“He’ll forgive me!” Schwanz picked up the fork and was bashed on the side of his head by an angry fist.
“WHO TOLD YOU TO EAT MY FOOD?!”
Schwanz started to bawl. “Waaaaahhhh! BLAKE HIT MEEEEE~!”
“GET OUT!”
“Why are you so meeeaaan~?!”
“GET OUT!”
Schwanz sniffled and gazed up at him with large watery eyes. He clasped his hands in front of him and turned up his “CUTE” mode to the max. “But Bwake!!” He stuck his lip out and it trembled.
Blaine lifted an eyebrow as another forkful of eggs entered his mouth. Schwanz was really pushing it. His eyes shifted towards Blake, who was glaring down at the boy through the brilliant shine of those creepily huge eyes.
“Don’t try to give me that look,” Blake seethed. “Get out of my FUCKING room!”
Still pouting, the strawberry blonde snorted through his nose. “Fine! You’re just mad because the only ass that was fucked last night was yours...”
Blake bared his teeth and started to shout at him. Blaine rose from his chair and put a hand on Blake’s face, pushing him back into his seat.
“That’s enough out of you, Schwanz.” He ushered him outside quickly before Blake could recover from his shock. “When Kris comes back, he’s not going to be happy to find out you’ve been an instigator.”
Schwanz beamed. “I’m never an instigator!”
Blaine chortled. “Right. Now go on. Get ready for your night out or whatever...”
“Okay Blaine! Bye bye!” He darted down the hall with Blaine and Craig looking after him.
“Why are you still here?” Blaine questioned Craig.
“I have no idea.” Craig turned to follow Schwanz, who was already out of sight, down the hall to the lobby.
Blaine gave a small snort. He’s an idiot. He went back into the room and sat down at the table. Finishing up his eggs, a piece of bacon stuck out of the corner of his mouth as he chewed. It slowly was pulled in and eaten while Blaine carefully watched Blake.
He rose from his chair, eyes covered in shadow. “Get out.”
Blaine’s chewing slowed.
Blake walked over to the couch and reached behind it. Pulling out clothes, he threw them at the blonde who was watching him from the chair. “Get the hell out.”
Swallowing the bacon, Blaine tucked his clothes under his arm. “Won’t you at least let me get dressed?”
Blake growled. “NO!” He started to swipe at him. Blaine ducked and backed away towards the door. “Get out RIGHT NOW!”
“Alright alright, Jesus!” Blaine pushed the button, but before he could step out, Blake kicked him in the back and forcibly ejected him.
Blaine stumbled out and heard the door slide shut behind him. Damn. Blake was such a hardass. He went over to his room and searched the pants. Damn. Maybe it was... He went through the shirt, and eventually shook everything hoping that the key card would fall out.
“Shit.” He looked back towards Blake’s room. It was in there somewhere, and he had to go get it or be stuck outside his own room.
Tentatively knocking, he waited to see if he would be answered. The door opened and before he could speak or make any appeasing gestures, he was hit in the forehead by the corner of his keycard. It hit the door as it rebounded then clattered to the floor.
Blaine leaned down and picked it up. He wasn’t so sadistic after all...
With a groan, she rolled out of bed. She never should have drank so much. Her head pounded, and her body was achy. “Peer relations my ass...”
She stumbled into the shower and tried to beat the headache out of her with steaming water. It didn’t work, and only made her skin bright red from the heat. Renee gave a large sigh. She took a shower, but she was just going to go back to sleep, or so she thought.
There was knocking on her door.
She rolled her eyes, but then regretted it because it made her headache come back in full force. Grabbing the bandages, she took her time to wrap her boobs and pull her hair back. A white shirt and black sweats were donned before she clicked the button to glare at the person who disturbed her.
“What the hell do you want, Traine? It’s too frickin’ early for your shit...”
“Dumb ass. What time do you think it is?”
“TOO EARLY.”
“It’s 5 in the afternoon. You should have been awake a while ago. Maybe you don’t hold your liquor as well as I thought you did.”
“I hold it just fine, I’m just tired as shit. It’s Sunday, anyway! It’s a resting day, bastard!”
“Please, like you hold religion so high on your morals list.”
“High enough.” Ryan pushed the button to close the door, but Traine stuck his foot in.
“Don’t be such an ass.” Traine pushed his way in. “How about we do some training? Then after I kick your ass, you’ll be plenty tired enough to go to sleep.”
Ryan glared. “I don-“
“You’re already dressed for it anyway.”
Ryan’s lip twitched. “Fine. Then you can leave.”
One side of his mouth curled. “Great.”
He took off his jacket and kicked off his shoes and socks, leaving them beside the door.
Heading straight towards the back, he opened the door to the dojo and stepped in. Smelled like sweat. It was definitely getting used, but he didn’t see any progress out of Ryan. Might have just been Blaine doing work then.
Traine kneeled down and rolled up the bottom of his pants into a cuff. It would be sad if he knocked himself unconscious because he slipped on his own pants.
“Alright. Let’s get this over with.”
“Come on. This is training. Don’t just come at me kamikaze style to get it over with.”
Ryan’s eyes narrowed. “What’s with all the good will?”
“Just beating you isn’t fun. Training you to get better so I can kick your ass all the time is much more fun.”
“Oh. Is that so?” Ryan started to turn.
“Get that stick out of your ass and come train with me!”
Ryan pursed his lips. “Alright, fine. You wanna train so much. Are you sure this isn’t some pun on your damn name?”
Traine’s eye twitched.
“I mean, you seem narcissistic enough to like saying your own name. Train, Traine, Traine. Fight training, express train, and your name Traine. I mean, I’m sure you’ll think of other things to indirectly refer to yourself. Why not get it over with now? Train, TRain, TRAin, TRAIn, TRAIN. Happy now?”
Traine’s twitch went down to his mouth, where it resided in the corner, attempting to pull his lip into a friendly curl. His body started to trembled, and a low laugh echoed off the walls.
Ryan braced himself and crouched. Looked like he might have pushed the wrong buttons....
“You’re a brass balled bastard, you know that?” Traine cracked his knuckles. “But that’s not going to save you...”
Ryan laughed nervously. “I thought this was training.”
“Well, here’s your first lesson.” Traine dashed forward, surprising Ryan. His fist connected with Ryan’s stomach and sent him flying back. He slid across the floor and stopped just as he hit the wall.
Ryan coughed, and heaved.
“Don’t make fun of my name, Sharps.”
Ryan wiped his mouth and pushed himself up onto his feet. “I’ll remember that...” he managed to sputter out.
“Well. Ready to start?”
“You’re fucking crazy...”
Traine laughed. He looked down at Ryan, eyes glinting. “Who’s crazy? I’m just here to help out a new friend.”
“Why does this remind me of a Stephen King book? I can just hear ‘I’m your *biggest* fan!’ in my head. Fuckin’ psycho.”
“Who’s the psycho? You’re the one reciting classical literature when we’re about to fight...”
“God. Anyway. Let’s do this.”
Traine proceeded to smile again. Ryan felt that he was going to regret this for the rest of his life...
Four hours later, he was regretting it. He couldn’t feel his legs, he felt he might be permanently flat chested because he landed on his chest and was punched there so many times, not to mention his arm gave this sharp pang every time he moved it.
Ouch.
“That was pretty decent, Sharps. You catch on quick.”
“Sadistic fuck...” Ryan groaned, collapsing partially on the couch. He couldn’t manage to lift his legs high enough to crawl the rest of the way on, and walking to his bed was near impossible.
“Oh, piss off. You’ll be fine tomorrow.”
Ryan cried. “It hurts.”
“Stop whimpering, or I’ll give you an even worse beating tomorrow.”
“You’re not coming over tomorrow!”
“Whatever you say.” Traine raised a hand in a wave as he walked to the entranceway. There was a click as he pushed the button and a whoosh as it opened then closed.
Ryan laid his head down on the couch cushion. His eyes closed and he drifted to sleep.
The next morning, he woke with a bad back ache. He blinked, wondering what time it was. His clock was dead, so he turned on the TV and looked at the preview channel. Twelve in the afternoon. He yawned. Monday’s sucked. Even if they didn’t have to go to school, Monday’s were still the most hated day of the week.
Ryan crawled to the bathroom. He started to run water in the bathtub. Steam rose from the rippling waters and fogged over the mirror. Taking his clothes off slowly, the pain was constant until he stopped moving. The bandages unraveled and lay in a pile encircling her waist.
Renee readjusted her pony tail so it was higher on her head. Wincing, she rolled her shoulder jerkily.
“Ugh, bastard. My whole body is sore.” She pulled herself into the hot water and hissed as it made contact with her cuts. Once it finally stopped burning, she settled back to soak everything from the neck down. Sighing, she let herself go back to sleep.
Blaine yawned. He stretched out over the couch and watched the raven haired man through the glassless window over the counter that allowed him to see into the kitchen. He smiled a little. Last night had been really fun. He’d nabbed himself twins. Korean twins who were definitely hot and spicy. Of course, that was assuming that they were really twins. All Asian people looked the same anyway.
“Wipe that perverted smile off your face. I don’t know why you think you can just walk in here whenever you want.”
Blaine shrugged.
“I don’t even know why the hell I let you inside in the first place.”
“You don’t like to eat alone?”
“You aren’t funny.”
Blaine shrugged again. “I don’t know what else to tell you, buddy. I-“
“I’m not your ‘buddy’.”
Sighing, he sat up on the couch and watched Blake finish fixing lunch. Jesus. Sometimes he wondered why he even tried to come back over. He wondered even more about why he was even let back in.
“And if you ever wake me up at 4 o’clock in the morning again, drunk or not, I’m going to kick your ass.”
“Yeah, yeah. Sorry.”
Blake set the food down in front of him with a glass of soda.
“Thanks honey,” Blaine joked.
Blake leaned down and picked up the plate and glass and headed back towards the kitchen. “Go home.”
Blaine reached out and grabbed the end of his shirt. “I was just kidding.”
“It wasn’t funny.”
“You just have a desert instead of a sense of humor.”
“You mean a dry sense of humor.”
“Yours is way beyond dry.”
Blake put down the glass and took a bite of the sandwich.
“Aa! My sandwich! Don’t eat it, you fiend!”
Blake chewed slowly. “Delicious.”
Blaine’s mouth fell open. “My sandwich...”
Blake took another bite. “It’s mine now.”
“That’s really mean!”
Blake picked up the glass and chugged down half of it. “Mmmm.... Carbolicious.”
Blaine pulled at his shirt. “Blake! Gimme back my sandwich! And my soda!”
“Last time I checked, I bought this stuff. It’s really good, so I know my money wasn’t wasted.”
Blaine whined as he watched Blake finish the sandwich and the soda. There was a loud burp and Blake sat back in the kitchen chair.
“You’re a sadistic bastard...”
“I thought we got that out in the open the other night.”
Blaine stomach growled. His mouth stretched towards a frown. “I’m going home.”
Blake went into the fridge and pulled out another sandwich and can of soda. “I’ll have to eat this one, too, I guess.”
Blaine’s eyebrow twitched. “And you say I’m not funny.”
The corner of the other man’s face lifted into a smile. “Can’t take a joke, Blaine?” He laughed, rising from the chair.
Blaine smiled, too, then punched the doorframe and held his arm there so Blake couldn’t get past. “I wonder what happens in that screwed up little head of yours.”
“About the same thing that happens in your pants,” Blake said with a smirk. “Quite a bit.”
Blaine let his arm drop. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or some twisted insult.”
“Maybe a little bit of both, whore.” Blake walked into the bathroom and slammed the door.
“I REALLY wonder why I came over here...” Blaine sat down and ate the sandwich, watching the bathroom door the entire time. He didn’t know what he was doing in there, but if he came out before the sandwich was gone, Blaine was going to make a break for it...
The water was cold and she was shivering. Her joints had gone from heated fluidity to icy stiffness while she was asleep. She pulled herself from the water and grabbed a towel. She got dressed and started to head back to bed, but the doorbell rang.
Dragging her body to the door, she pulled a hair band from the shoe cabinet and secured her hair.
“Who is it?” Ryan croaked. He pushed the button and the door opened. If he had thought about it, he would have realized opening the door before figuring out who was on the other side was retarded.
“It’s me, dumbass. We’re finishing what we started yesterday.”
Ryan’s face fell. “I’m not in the mood, Traine. My body hurts.”
“Don’t be such a pussy.”
“Shut up and get out of my room.”
“What crawled up your ass and died?”
“My patience. Now get out before I kick you out.”
“Che. Whatever, loser.”
Traine walked in and straight to the back door. “Let’s go.”
“I don’t know when you got so charitable, but you aren’t helping me...”
“Of course I am. I can’t be seen with someone who ranks 512 out of 512 students.”
“That makes it sound less and less like you’re really trying to help me, especially since we only have 500 students.”
“I *am* trying to help you, and help myself in the process.”
Ryan groaned and tried to sneak into his room. Traine grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and dragged him into the mini-dojo.
“What kind of a man are you, kicking and screaming like that!” Traine shouted, dropping Ryan into the middle of the dojo. “You should be grateful for the help!”
Ryan muttered something to himself before rising. “Fine! You wanna be so helpful!” He took the initiative to attack.
Nothing was connecting, as he suspected they wouldn’t from the beginning, and he was getting tired already. If Traine noticed, he didn’t say anything and just kept avoiding them. Then, he switched it on him.
It was slow at first, then once his adrenaline stated pumping, it got faster. Faster and faster, Traine was pushing him. Now he knew what it felt like to be running high on adrenaline for 2 hours with an achy body.
He dodged an attack and lost his balance. He fell on his ass and then flat onto his back. His breath came in gasps as he watched the ceiling swirl around. Traine eased out of fight mode and walked over.
Ryan, sensing him through his haze, struggled to get to his feet. He wobbled and started to fall again when he felt himself land against a body. Grabbing the other man’s arm, Traine threw it over his shoulder and helped him limp to bed.
Ryan dropped into the bed and curled up under his comforter. Traine raised an eyebrow, but said nothing before leaving.
There was more banging. Heavy banging. His eyes cracked open. He turned to look at his clock and remembered that he had killed it a few days ago. Ryan sat up. His body was sore, but not as bad as he thought it would be. He stumbled to the door and opened it, again forgetting that he should look out first.
“Rise and shine, sleepy ass,” came Traine’s annoyed voice. “I figured you’d oversleep.”
“What time is it?”
“Seven thirty.”
“Ah, shit,” Ryan croaked. “Thanks,” he groaned with a wave. He half tripped half ran to the bathroom. As soon as the hot water hit him, he felt his body start to sag and go back to sleep. He cursed as he forced himself to turn the water off.
Renee looked at herself in the mirror. She had so many bruises. If she was this tired, she wouldn’t be able to go make any money this week. It was lucky she still had some left. She found herself thinking of Brian. She wondered if he would be waiting for her, then rolled her eyes.
He had probably been with a different woman every day of the week and forgotten about her already. She wrapped her chest and pulled on her uniform. It was amazing how much she looked like boy. Maybe more like a tomboyish girl, but it worked. If anyone questioned her sex, it hadn’t reached her ears. But then again, she didn’t have a wide communication network there yet...
She pulled back her hair and dashed to the door. Skidding to a stop, he grabbed something out of the fridge that hopefully wasn’t bad, before plopping down to put his shoes on. He hit the button with his head as he hopped on his one shoed foot trying to get the other one on. Dammit! He needed a new alarm clock!
Racing down the stairs, he saw everyone in the lobby was gone. He cursed again and sprinted out the door and to the school. He did see a few running backs ahead of him and realized he really was late if someone else was running.
The bell rang as he sprinted up the steps to the entrance and slid in front of Mr. Smith’s room. He slammed his hand on the button and immediately started apologizing for being late, but it fell on silence. He looked up and saw no one was there. He blinked, then heard a shrill female voice.
“Young man! What are you doing out in the hallway?!”
He twitched. It was that lady from the first day. “Uh, where is everyone?”
“It’s ranking week!”
He cringed again. “I know, but..”
“Everyone is in building two today!”
“Oh... Uh, thank you...” Ryan turned and ran for it, ignoring her ‘STOP RUNNNIG IN THE HALLS!!’.
He ran out of the building and down the street. Someone should have told him this shit before! He ran into the building and wondered which door to go into. He nearly cried in frustration. Then, he saw the labels and found his room.
He crept in, but, naturally, was spotted.
“Why Mr. Sharps. How nice of you to join us this morning.” Wilkes said loudly, drawing attention to the late one. “Go find your spot on the pyramid.”
Ryan’s eyebrow lifted. Pyramid? He looked around and saw a big board. He thought they fought people no more than ten ahead of them... This was going to be really confusing.
Wilkes directed the first 25 matches into the gym and the remaining people were in the hallway and another smaller room. Wilkes talked to the few new people about how it worked.
“Alright. The last 200 in ranking, that includes you all, go by a pyramid scheme during ranking week. The last 100, which includes you, are paired in order of strength, so you are able, if you’ve been training hard, to increase your rank by quite a bit in a week. The person who wins over all, is bumped up to the next section, and the person lowest in the ranking above, drops to fill that space. Is that clear?”
There was a chorus of ‘Yes!’. “Good. Those of you who don’t have a rank fight each other first, then work your way up for your rank. There are 7 matches in all for the week. Two matches are held today, tomorrow, and Thursday. There’s only 1 on Friday, and it’s a half day.
“When and if you lose today, go home. Don’t loiter around here. We have enough people as it is without unnecessaries running around. After ranking week, we post up the new order on Monday. Usually, we repost every week because there are matches that occur that change the order, but this year, it’ll be twice a week.
“You can challenge whoever you want to a fight in the lower 200s, but usually people stay within 10 of their own rank. The point system doesn’t come into effect until you get to the 300s in rank. Any questions?”
Everyone stared at him. “You’ll get it eventually, don’t fry your brain over it.” He saw a large group leave the ranking room.
He looked at the clock. It was about time. He peeked into the room and looked around. Only about 5 people were still fighting and the other teachers were watching with a close eye.
“Alright, matches 1-20 go in!”
They filed in through the small door. Wilkes watched as the losers of the other matches marked through their names and left the building. A few more came out, marked their names, and left. Only about 2 of the first set were still fighting, so he sent in 3 more matches.
Lunch was about to begin when the final stragglers left. The first round was over, and after lunch, the second round would begin.
Ryan chewed on his sandwich. He wondered how the other newbies were doing. He’d won his easily, and the other guy looked pretty disappointed. He wondered if he should have at least let him think he had a chance.
Nah.
Ryan looked around. It looked like the entire population was there, yet he didn’t see any of the others in his class. He doubted they lost whatever matches they were in... Then again, he didn’t know how it worked for the upper levels. They might still be fighting... The entire thing was a little confusing. Why wouldn’t they use the pyramid scheme for the other levels? It seemed really easy to advance in the lower levels, but once you get higher, it seemed like it was intentionally harder to advance.
Sighing, he sipped at the rest of his water and looked at the clock. It was almost time for the second round. He continued to stare at the clock. It was amazing how fast lunch had gone by. Thinking about the system, he wondered how the points worked.
If the bottom half was worth 1 point, and the top half was worth 2 points, the people on the bottom had to work twice as hard just to keep up in points. I guess the goal was to advance all the way up to the halfway point then beat enough people above you to move up a few ranks. That way, you would be pretty secure in your position unless you just didn’t fight at all, so in that case, you would almost immediately drop to the bottom, then be replaced by the top ranking of the class below yours. There was one thing that Ryan was sure of:
If you don’t work hard, you’ll without doubt fall to the bottom and never recover.
The bell rang and everyone rose and walked to and out the doors in one large mass.
They broke off into their groups as they entered the second building. He looked at the pyramid. Round two. In 3 days, he would be ranked 400.
Ryan squatted outside the fighting room. Damn. This was taking too long. Even if it was only taking 4 days to rise 100 spots, he felt like it was taking forever. He bit the inside of his cheek. He was being impatient, and his younger brother always teased him about it.
“Hey Renee! There are only 3 days left!’ The little brat would jump around and taunt her. No matter what the occasion, he would always let her know how many weeks, days, hours, minutes, even seconds sometimes, were left to whichever event happened to be closest.
Ryan smiled. He wondered what the little asshole was doing now. He was probably doing his afternoon training or maybe lunch. Oh well. Who was having more fun?
He looked around at the slightly beaten group around him, then thought about his mother’s cooking. Probably his brother...
“Alright! The next 25 matches are going to start. Find the place marked off on the floor that corresponds to the number you saw on the pyramid! We’re going to get this going in a few minutes!”
Ryan found his spot, stood there for approximately 5 minutes, then kicked some poor guys ass for 3 minutes, and left after making sure the guy marked his name off.
He still hadn’t seen any of the others and wondered what was going on. He decided to forget it. He’d go home, eat, then go back to sleep until tomorrow morning. Forget the fact it was only 1 in the afternoon. He would be able to do it.
Traveling back to the dorm building, he took the elevator to his floor. Swiping his card, he stepped in and kicked his shoes off. He left them in the middle of the floor and rounded the corner.
Looking at the fridge, he wondered if he should eat again before going to sleep. He frowned. There wasn’t any more food IN the fridge, so that option was out.
Ryan dropped onto his couch and leaned back. He turned on the TV and the little box projected the image onto the air. He turned it to a music station, classical, and let it soothe him into sleep.
Author’s Note : Aa, dammit. The chapters are only getting longer… Oh well, did some more character explanation, though it doesn’t explain why Traine suddenly has this growing interest in Ryan. ::shrugs:: I’ll figure it out sometime.
Series Rating : PG-13 - NC-17
Word Count : 6,231
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6 : I’m not your buddy
It was a few hours later when the drunken bunch of men stumbled into the elevators. They laughed loudly and banged against the walls as they made their way to their dorm rooms. Blaine and Blake disappeared into Blake’s room. Craig and Thomas took the stairs up to the next floor because they stupidly got off the elevator on the wrong floor. Schwanz bounced around until he disappeared into his room. They heard him start to sing a random song in another language before it shut behind him. Ryan wobbled by the third door as Traine went into his own room. He barely managed to swipe his card before getting the overwhelming urge to puke. He ran into his room and fell in front of his toilet. His stomach heaved and the bile came up.
God. He knew he was going to drink too much.
He dragged away from the toilet and pulled the trashcan up beside the bed just in case. He fell face down into the pillow and slipped into unconsciousness.
Traine rubbed his head. It hurt like a bitch, but was no worse than what everyone else was feeling. He got up and drank an entire glass of orange juice before taking a shower. He pulled on boxers and scratched his crotch.
Last night had been pretty fun. Ryan was cool to hang out with and could obviously hold his liquor. He didn’t piss him off, so next time they went out, he’d drag him along. Maybe then he’d find him a girl to fuck, ‘cus he was still a little stiff...
Schwanz chuckled and nodded. He shifted the phone to his other ear and smiled again. “Yes, Kris. I know. No, Icchan hasn’t... I understand but...” He sighed. “Stop cutting me off. I’m not a child.” There was silence on the other line, then loud laughter that made him pull his ear away from the speaker.
“Don’t tell me you’re not a child when you still bounce around like a 5 year old.”
Schwanz frowned. “Don’t tell me I’m a child when you get a stick up your ass over the school doctor.”
“He can’t be trusted! What kind of doctor can fight like that?!”
“He hasn’t ever fought you. He just dodged everything.”
“That’s what I mean! If he’s a doctor and not a fighter, why does he have such good reflexes? He must train!”
There was a snapping and a whiz of air as Schwanz opened a can.
“What are you drinking?
“Smirnoff Ice in a liter can.”
Schwanz leaned back into his pillow and listened to the ninja sigh.
“Just don’t drink yourself to death, okay? “
“Will do.” He saluted the phone’s base that was plugged up and sitting on his dresser.
“Alright smart ass, I’ll call you when my plane is about to take off.”
“Okay. See you later.”
“Right. Goodbye.”
Schwanz put down the phone and took another gulp of his Smirnoff. He wished he could have gone with Kris, but both Kris and his mother had said no. He frowned at the memory. Kris was just being mean, and his mother was being highly overprotective... as usual...
He stared at the can and his lip puffed out. No one took him seriously and it was irritating. He shrugged. Oh well. It wasn’t like he couldn’t prove himself at any time. He would just enjoy his time with Mr. Smith.
The sheets shifted around his waist as he twisted. His eyes cracked open to look at fuzzy surroundings. Eyes attracted to the light, Blake squinted to try and focus. One o’clcok. He groaned and sat up. He had a fucking headache and was tired as shit.
Stumbling into the bathroom, he unzipped his fly and started to let out a breath that turned into a curse as he saw the stream shoot out to the right and into the tub. “Well shit...” There was so no use in trying to get it into the toilet. At least it wasn’t all over the wall or something. He stepped closer to the tub so when it tapered off it wouldn’t dribble onto the floor.
He finished, flicked, and zipped up. He dragged into the living room and briefly looked at the blonde sprawled on his couch. He blinked, then went into the kitchen. Taking out a bottle of water, he gulped it down and let out a belch before tossing it towards the trashcan. He didn’t bother to stay and see if it made it in.
Blake recollapsed onto the floor beside the couch and was knocked out for a few more hours.
When he re-awoke, the clock on the TV display projected 8:38PM. It was time to get up and try to resume a semi-normal schedule. He went back to the bathroom to do his business before going to the kitchen. He opened the fridge and emptied another bottle of water.
He took out a pan, placed it on the stove, and turned on the oven. He clicked a few buttons and 6 eggs were cracked into a bowl that rose out of the countertop. He whisked them together as cheese and a mixture of salt and pepper dropped in from above. With a few more presses of various buttons, sausage and bacon fell into the pan and started to fry. Biscuit dough was plopped onto a cooking sheet in even rows and Blake stopped whisking long enough to put them in the oven.
He tossed the whisk into the sink and went back out into the living room. That was when he first noticed that Blaine was gone. He lifted an eyebrow. He knew the bastard hadn’t left yet.
Blake went to his room. He felt his eyebrow quirk at the sight of Blaine on his bed, face peacefully nestled in his pillow. The bastard had probably gotten up to piss and took the opportunity to take over his vacated bed.
He left the room to return to the kitchen. He flipped the sausage and bacon, checked on the biscuits through the oven window, and put another pan on the stove for the eggs. He put two glasses on the counter and rummaged through the icebox for something to put in them.
He pulled out a carton of orange juice and stared back at the grape juice sitting on the top rack. He slammed it shut and poured a different juice into each glasses. He wanted orange juice and there was only enough for one glass, and fuck Blaine if he didn’t like grape. He wasn’t going to go completely out of his way.
The bacon and sausage were left to drain on a paper towel. Blake banged around under the sink and found a medium sized pan. He hefted it in his hand. It was a good size without any pronounced edges on the bottom.
He walked into the bedroom and slammed it on his dresser.
Nothing.
“Get up Blaine. Breakfast is almost ready.”
Still nothing.
He took the pan and hurled it at the body. It hit with an audible and painful sound. There wasn’t so much as a twitch, but Blake knew it had done its job.
There was a yawning groan as Blaine’s head rubbed against the pillow. As he rotated to face Blake, his hair smoothed back against his head. He attempted to pin him with his eyes, but they were too filled with sleep to be effective. He blinked a few times and rubbed at the spot on his back where the pot had hit him. That was sure to become a bruise.
“You’re a sadistic fuck...”
“Breakfast.” Blake left the room to cook the eggs.
Blaine stretched, wincing at the throbbing pain that came back with a vengeance for agitating his bruised flesh. He went into the bathroom and washed his hands when he was done. Looking into the mirror, his hands ran through his hair to straighten the barely mussed strands.
He plopped down into a chair at the kitchen table and watched Blake step around the kitchen gathering up the bowls and plates of food. Spreading them out over the table, he got the glasses of juice and set one down in front of Blaine and the other one in front of the vacant chair he was going to sit in later.
Blaine drank his juice as Blake disappeared into his bedroom. He let out a long breath that served as a burp and went to the refrigerator to refill his glass.
There was a knock on the door and Blaine ignored it. He put the carton back and closed the door. There was another knock and Blaine started towards the door, sipping his drink on the way.
He pushed the button and it opened to show Craig. They stared at each other.
Craig leaned back to look at the door plate posted beside the opening. Room #321, Erics. He looked back at Blaine.
“What?”
“Uh... I was just wondering if Blake was going to come out with us tonight...”
“Don’t know.” Blaine turned and shouted back into the room, “YOU PLAN ON GOING OUT TONIGHT BLAKE?!”
There was no answer. Blaine sipped on his drink and waited.
There was the sound of footsteps on tile that paused, then started again and disappeared once he crossed over onto the carpet.
“No.” Blake appeared from around the corner. “Who the hell told you to answer the door? This isn’t your room.”
Craig stared at them both questioningly. He could be putting too much into it, but they were both only wearing boxers and he could smell bacon and sausage from inside. Breakfast at 9:30 at night?
“He was knocking,” Blaine said with a shrug and sauntered away to the kitchen.
Blake let out a low growl. He was perfectly aware of how wrong it looked and he knew Blaine didn’t care what anyone thought.
“What the hell did you want, Craig? I have a fucking headache.” Or he did now that Blaine had answered the door.
“We were just wondering if you were coming out with us tonight.”
“No.”
“Why not!” came a whiney voice. Schwanz bounced down the hallway and stopped in front of the open door. “It’ll be fun!”
“I don’t want to, that’s why!”
“You’re no fun!” Schwanz sprinted past him and into the entrance way. He flicked his shoes off in two quick movements and spun around the corner. “HI BLAINE!”
“Get the FUCK out of my house you little fucker!” Blake turned on his heel and stormed back inside leaving a confused Craig outside.
“Ooooooh! Breakfast! I want some!”
“That’s Blake’s food. He’ll get mad if you eat it,” Blaine told him.
“He’ll forgive me!” Schwanz picked up the fork and was bashed on the side of his head by an angry fist.
“WHO TOLD YOU TO EAT MY FOOD?!”
Schwanz started to bawl. “Waaaaahhhh! BLAKE HIT MEEEEE~!”
“GET OUT!”
“Why are you so meeeaaan~?!”
“GET OUT!”
Schwanz sniffled and gazed up at him with large watery eyes. He clasped his hands in front of him and turned up his “CUTE” mode to the max. “But Bwake!!” He stuck his lip out and it trembled.
Blaine lifted an eyebrow as another forkful of eggs entered his mouth. Schwanz was really pushing it. His eyes shifted towards Blake, who was glaring down at the boy through the brilliant shine of those creepily huge eyes.
“Don’t try to give me that look,” Blake seethed. “Get out of my FUCKING room!”
Still pouting, the strawberry blonde snorted through his nose. “Fine! You’re just mad because the only ass that was fucked last night was yours...”
Blake bared his teeth and started to shout at him. Blaine rose from his chair and put a hand on Blake’s face, pushing him back into his seat.
“That’s enough out of you, Schwanz.” He ushered him outside quickly before Blake could recover from his shock. “When Kris comes back, he’s not going to be happy to find out you’ve been an instigator.”
Schwanz beamed. “I’m never an instigator!”
Blaine chortled. “Right. Now go on. Get ready for your night out or whatever...”
“Okay Blaine! Bye bye!” He darted down the hall with Blaine and Craig looking after him.
“Why are you still here?” Blaine questioned Craig.
“I have no idea.” Craig turned to follow Schwanz, who was already out of sight, down the hall to the lobby.
Blaine gave a small snort. He’s an idiot. He went back into the room and sat down at the table. Finishing up his eggs, a piece of bacon stuck out of the corner of his mouth as he chewed. It slowly was pulled in and eaten while Blaine carefully watched Blake.
He rose from his chair, eyes covered in shadow. “Get out.”
Blaine’s chewing slowed.
Blake walked over to the couch and reached behind it. Pulling out clothes, he threw them at the blonde who was watching him from the chair. “Get the hell out.”
Swallowing the bacon, Blaine tucked his clothes under his arm. “Won’t you at least let me get dressed?”
Blake growled. “NO!” He started to swipe at him. Blaine ducked and backed away towards the door. “Get out RIGHT NOW!”
“Alright alright, Jesus!” Blaine pushed the button, but before he could step out, Blake kicked him in the back and forcibly ejected him.
Blaine stumbled out and heard the door slide shut behind him. Damn. Blake was such a hardass. He went over to his room and searched the pants. Damn. Maybe it was... He went through the shirt, and eventually shook everything hoping that the key card would fall out.
“Shit.” He looked back towards Blake’s room. It was in there somewhere, and he had to go get it or be stuck outside his own room.
Tentatively knocking, he waited to see if he would be answered. The door opened and before he could speak or make any appeasing gestures, he was hit in the forehead by the corner of his keycard. It hit the door as it rebounded then clattered to the floor.
Blaine leaned down and picked it up. He wasn’t so sadistic after all...
With a groan, she rolled out of bed. She never should have drank so much. Her head pounded, and her body was achy. “Peer relations my ass...”
She stumbled into the shower and tried to beat the headache out of her with steaming water. It didn’t work, and only made her skin bright red from the heat. Renee gave a large sigh. She took a shower, but she was just going to go back to sleep, or so she thought.
There was knocking on her door.
She rolled her eyes, but then regretted it because it made her headache come back in full force. Grabbing the bandages, she took her time to wrap her boobs and pull her hair back. A white shirt and black sweats were donned before she clicked the button to glare at the person who disturbed her.
“What the hell do you want, Traine? It’s too frickin’ early for your shit...”
“Dumb ass. What time do you think it is?”
“TOO EARLY.”
“It’s 5 in the afternoon. You should have been awake a while ago. Maybe you don’t hold your liquor as well as I thought you did.”
“I hold it just fine, I’m just tired as shit. It’s Sunday, anyway! It’s a resting day, bastard!”
“Please, like you hold religion so high on your morals list.”
“High enough.” Ryan pushed the button to close the door, but Traine stuck his foot in.
“Don’t be such an ass.” Traine pushed his way in. “How about we do some training? Then after I kick your ass, you’ll be plenty tired enough to go to sleep.”
Ryan glared. “I don-“
“You’re already dressed for it anyway.”
Ryan’s lip twitched. “Fine. Then you can leave.”
One side of his mouth curled. “Great.”
He took off his jacket and kicked off his shoes and socks, leaving them beside the door.
Heading straight towards the back, he opened the door to the dojo and stepped in. Smelled like sweat. It was definitely getting used, but he didn’t see any progress out of Ryan. Might have just been Blaine doing work then.
Traine kneeled down and rolled up the bottom of his pants into a cuff. It would be sad if he knocked himself unconscious because he slipped on his own pants.
“Alright. Let’s get this over with.”
“Come on. This is training. Don’t just come at me kamikaze style to get it over with.”
Ryan’s eyes narrowed. “What’s with all the good will?”
“Just beating you isn’t fun. Training you to get better so I can kick your ass all the time is much more fun.”
“Oh. Is that so?” Ryan started to turn.
“Get that stick out of your ass and come train with me!”
Ryan pursed his lips. “Alright, fine. You wanna train so much. Are you sure this isn’t some pun on your damn name?”
Traine’s eye twitched.
“I mean, you seem narcissistic enough to like saying your own name. Train, Traine, Traine. Fight training, express train, and your name Traine. I mean, I’m sure you’ll think of other things to indirectly refer to yourself. Why not get it over with now? Train, TRain, TRAin, TRAIn, TRAIN. Happy now?”
Traine’s twitch went down to his mouth, where it resided in the corner, attempting to pull his lip into a friendly curl. His body started to trembled, and a low laugh echoed off the walls.
Ryan braced himself and crouched. Looked like he might have pushed the wrong buttons....
“You’re a brass balled bastard, you know that?” Traine cracked his knuckles. “But that’s not going to save you...”
Ryan laughed nervously. “I thought this was training.”
“Well, here’s your first lesson.” Traine dashed forward, surprising Ryan. His fist connected with Ryan’s stomach and sent him flying back. He slid across the floor and stopped just as he hit the wall.
Ryan coughed, and heaved.
“Don’t make fun of my name, Sharps.”
Ryan wiped his mouth and pushed himself up onto his feet. “I’ll remember that...” he managed to sputter out.
“Well. Ready to start?”
“You’re fucking crazy...”
Traine laughed. He looked down at Ryan, eyes glinting. “Who’s crazy? I’m just here to help out a new friend.”
“Why does this remind me of a Stephen King book? I can just hear ‘I’m your *biggest* fan!’ in my head. Fuckin’ psycho.”
“Who’s the psycho? You’re the one reciting classical literature when we’re about to fight...”
“God. Anyway. Let’s do this.”
Traine proceeded to smile again. Ryan felt that he was going to regret this for the rest of his life...
Four hours later, he was regretting it. He couldn’t feel his legs, he felt he might be permanently flat chested because he landed on his chest and was punched there so many times, not to mention his arm gave this sharp pang every time he moved it.
Ouch.
“That was pretty decent, Sharps. You catch on quick.”
“Sadistic fuck...” Ryan groaned, collapsing partially on the couch. He couldn’t manage to lift his legs high enough to crawl the rest of the way on, and walking to his bed was near impossible.
“Oh, piss off. You’ll be fine tomorrow.”
Ryan cried. “It hurts.”
“Stop whimpering, or I’ll give you an even worse beating tomorrow.”
“You’re not coming over tomorrow!”
“Whatever you say.” Traine raised a hand in a wave as he walked to the entranceway. There was a click as he pushed the button and a whoosh as it opened then closed.
Ryan laid his head down on the couch cushion. His eyes closed and he drifted to sleep.
The next morning, he woke with a bad back ache. He blinked, wondering what time it was. His clock was dead, so he turned on the TV and looked at the preview channel. Twelve in the afternoon. He yawned. Monday’s sucked. Even if they didn’t have to go to school, Monday’s were still the most hated day of the week.
Ryan crawled to the bathroom. He started to run water in the bathtub. Steam rose from the rippling waters and fogged over the mirror. Taking his clothes off slowly, the pain was constant until he stopped moving. The bandages unraveled and lay in a pile encircling her waist.
Renee readjusted her pony tail so it was higher on her head. Wincing, she rolled her shoulder jerkily.
“Ugh, bastard. My whole body is sore.” She pulled herself into the hot water and hissed as it made contact with her cuts. Once it finally stopped burning, she settled back to soak everything from the neck down. Sighing, she let herself go back to sleep.
Blaine yawned. He stretched out over the couch and watched the raven haired man through the glassless window over the counter that allowed him to see into the kitchen. He smiled a little. Last night had been really fun. He’d nabbed himself twins. Korean twins who were definitely hot and spicy. Of course, that was assuming that they were really twins. All Asian people looked the same anyway.
“Wipe that perverted smile off your face. I don’t know why you think you can just walk in here whenever you want.”
Blaine shrugged.
“I don’t even know why the hell I let you inside in the first place.”
“You don’t like to eat alone?”
“You aren’t funny.”
Blaine shrugged again. “I don’t know what else to tell you, buddy. I-“
“I’m not your ‘buddy’.”
Sighing, he sat up on the couch and watched Blake finish fixing lunch. Jesus. Sometimes he wondered why he even tried to come back over. He wondered even more about why he was even let back in.
“And if you ever wake me up at 4 o’clock in the morning again, drunk or not, I’m going to kick your ass.”
“Yeah, yeah. Sorry.”
Blake set the food down in front of him with a glass of soda.
“Thanks honey,” Blaine joked.
Blake leaned down and picked up the plate and glass and headed back towards the kitchen. “Go home.”
Blaine reached out and grabbed the end of his shirt. “I was just kidding.”
“It wasn’t funny.”
“You just have a desert instead of a sense of humor.”
“You mean a dry sense of humor.”
“Yours is way beyond dry.”
Blake put down the glass and took a bite of the sandwich.
“Aa! My sandwich! Don’t eat it, you fiend!”
Blake chewed slowly. “Delicious.”
Blaine’s mouth fell open. “My sandwich...”
Blake took another bite. “It’s mine now.”
“That’s really mean!”
Blake picked up the glass and chugged down half of it. “Mmmm.... Carbolicious.”
Blaine pulled at his shirt. “Blake! Gimme back my sandwich! And my soda!”
“Last time I checked, I bought this stuff. It’s really good, so I know my money wasn’t wasted.”
Blaine whined as he watched Blake finish the sandwich and the soda. There was a loud burp and Blake sat back in the kitchen chair.
“You’re a sadistic bastard...”
“I thought we got that out in the open the other night.”
Blaine stomach growled. His mouth stretched towards a frown. “I’m going home.”
Blake went into the fridge and pulled out another sandwich and can of soda. “I’ll have to eat this one, too, I guess.”
Blaine’s eyebrow twitched. “And you say I’m not funny.”
The corner of the other man’s face lifted into a smile. “Can’t take a joke, Blaine?” He laughed, rising from the chair.
Blaine smiled, too, then punched the doorframe and held his arm there so Blake couldn’t get past. “I wonder what happens in that screwed up little head of yours.”
“About the same thing that happens in your pants,” Blake said with a smirk. “Quite a bit.”
Blaine let his arm drop. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or some twisted insult.”
“Maybe a little bit of both, whore.” Blake walked into the bathroom and slammed the door.
“I REALLY wonder why I came over here...” Blaine sat down and ate the sandwich, watching the bathroom door the entire time. He didn’t know what he was doing in there, but if he came out before the sandwich was gone, Blaine was going to make a break for it...
The water was cold and she was shivering. Her joints had gone from heated fluidity to icy stiffness while she was asleep. She pulled herself from the water and grabbed a towel. She got dressed and started to head back to bed, but the doorbell rang.
Dragging her body to the door, she pulled a hair band from the shoe cabinet and secured her hair.
“Who is it?” Ryan croaked. He pushed the button and the door opened. If he had thought about it, he would have realized opening the door before figuring out who was on the other side was retarded.
“It’s me, dumbass. We’re finishing what we started yesterday.”
Ryan’s face fell. “I’m not in the mood, Traine. My body hurts.”
“Don’t be such a pussy.”
“Shut up and get out of my room.”
“What crawled up your ass and died?”
“My patience. Now get out before I kick you out.”
“Che. Whatever, loser.”
Traine walked in and straight to the back door. “Let’s go.”
“I don’t know when you got so charitable, but you aren’t helping me...”
“Of course I am. I can’t be seen with someone who ranks 512 out of 512 students.”
“That makes it sound less and less like you’re really trying to help me, especially since we only have 500 students.”
“I *am* trying to help you, and help myself in the process.”
Ryan groaned and tried to sneak into his room. Traine grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and dragged him into the mini-dojo.
“What kind of a man are you, kicking and screaming like that!” Traine shouted, dropping Ryan into the middle of the dojo. “You should be grateful for the help!”
Ryan muttered something to himself before rising. “Fine! You wanna be so helpful!” He took the initiative to attack.
Nothing was connecting, as he suspected they wouldn’t from the beginning, and he was getting tired already. If Traine noticed, he didn’t say anything and just kept avoiding them. Then, he switched it on him.
It was slow at first, then once his adrenaline stated pumping, it got faster. Faster and faster, Traine was pushing him. Now he knew what it felt like to be running high on adrenaline for 2 hours with an achy body.
He dodged an attack and lost his balance. He fell on his ass and then flat onto his back. His breath came in gasps as he watched the ceiling swirl around. Traine eased out of fight mode and walked over.
Ryan, sensing him through his haze, struggled to get to his feet. He wobbled and started to fall again when he felt himself land against a body. Grabbing the other man’s arm, Traine threw it over his shoulder and helped him limp to bed.
Ryan dropped into the bed and curled up under his comforter. Traine raised an eyebrow, but said nothing before leaving.
There was more banging. Heavy banging. His eyes cracked open. He turned to look at his clock and remembered that he had killed it a few days ago. Ryan sat up. His body was sore, but not as bad as he thought it would be. He stumbled to the door and opened it, again forgetting that he should look out first.
“Rise and shine, sleepy ass,” came Traine’s annoyed voice. “I figured you’d oversleep.”
“What time is it?”
“Seven thirty.”
“Ah, shit,” Ryan croaked. “Thanks,” he groaned with a wave. He half tripped half ran to the bathroom. As soon as the hot water hit him, he felt his body start to sag and go back to sleep. He cursed as he forced himself to turn the water off.
Renee looked at herself in the mirror. She had so many bruises. If she was this tired, she wouldn’t be able to go make any money this week. It was lucky she still had some left. She found herself thinking of Brian. She wondered if he would be waiting for her, then rolled her eyes.
He had probably been with a different woman every day of the week and forgotten about her already. She wrapped her chest and pulled on her uniform. It was amazing how much she looked like boy. Maybe more like a tomboyish girl, but it worked. If anyone questioned her sex, it hadn’t reached her ears. But then again, she didn’t have a wide communication network there yet...
She pulled back her hair and dashed to the door. Skidding to a stop, he grabbed something out of the fridge that hopefully wasn’t bad, before plopping down to put his shoes on. He hit the button with his head as he hopped on his one shoed foot trying to get the other one on. Dammit! He needed a new alarm clock!
Racing down the stairs, he saw everyone in the lobby was gone. He cursed again and sprinted out the door and to the school. He did see a few running backs ahead of him and realized he really was late if someone else was running.
The bell rang as he sprinted up the steps to the entrance and slid in front of Mr. Smith’s room. He slammed his hand on the button and immediately started apologizing for being late, but it fell on silence. He looked up and saw no one was there. He blinked, then heard a shrill female voice.
“Young man! What are you doing out in the hallway?!”
He twitched. It was that lady from the first day. “Uh, where is everyone?”
“It’s ranking week!”
He cringed again. “I know, but..”
“Everyone is in building two today!”
“Oh... Uh, thank you...” Ryan turned and ran for it, ignoring her ‘STOP RUNNNIG IN THE HALLS!!’.
He ran out of the building and down the street. Someone should have told him this shit before! He ran into the building and wondered which door to go into. He nearly cried in frustration. Then, he saw the labels and found his room.
He crept in, but, naturally, was spotted.
“Why Mr. Sharps. How nice of you to join us this morning.” Wilkes said loudly, drawing attention to the late one. “Go find your spot on the pyramid.”
Ryan’s eyebrow lifted. Pyramid? He looked around and saw a big board. He thought they fought people no more than ten ahead of them... This was going to be really confusing.
Wilkes directed the first 25 matches into the gym and the remaining people were in the hallway and another smaller room. Wilkes talked to the few new people about how it worked.
“Alright. The last 200 in ranking, that includes you all, go by a pyramid scheme during ranking week. The last 100, which includes you, are paired in order of strength, so you are able, if you’ve been training hard, to increase your rank by quite a bit in a week. The person who wins over all, is bumped up to the next section, and the person lowest in the ranking above, drops to fill that space. Is that clear?”
There was a chorus of ‘Yes!’. “Good. Those of you who don’t have a rank fight each other first, then work your way up for your rank. There are 7 matches in all for the week. Two matches are held today, tomorrow, and Thursday. There’s only 1 on Friday, and it’s a half day.
“When and if you lose today, go home. Don’t loiter around here. We have enough people as it is without unnecessaries running around. After ranking week, we post up the new order on Monday. Usually, we repost every week because there are matches that occur that change the order, but this year, it’ll be twice a week.
“You can challenge whoever you want to a fight in the lower 200s, but usually people stay within 10 of their own rank. The point system doesn’t come into effect until you get to the 300s in rank. Any questions?”
Everyone stared at him. “You’ll get it eventually, don’t fry your brain over it.” He saw a large group leave the ranking room.
He looked at the clock. It was about time. He peeked into the room and looked around. Only about 5 people were still fighting and the other teachers were watching with a close eye.
“Alright, matches 1-20 go in!”
They filed in through the small door. Wilkes watched as the losers of the other matches marked through their names and left the building. A few more came out, marked their names, and left. Only about 2 of the first set were still fighting, so he sent in 3 more matches.
Lunch was about to begin when the final stragglers left. The first round was over, and after lunch, the second round would begin.
Ryan chewed on his sandwich. He wondered how the other newbies were doing. He’d won his easily, and the other guy looked pretty disappointed. He wondered if he should have at least let him think he had a chance.
Nah.
Ryan looked around. It looked like the entire population was there, yet he didn’t see any of the others in his class. He doubted they lost whatever matches they were in... Then again, he didn’t know how it worked for the upper levels. They might still be fighting... The entire thing was a little confusing. Why wouldn’t they use the pyramid scheme for the other levels? It seemed really easy to advance in the lower levels, but once you get higher, it seemed like it was intentionally harder to advance.
Sighing, he sipped at the rest of his water and looked at the clock. It was almost time for the second round. He continued to stare at the clock. It was amazing how fast lunch had gone by. Thinking about the system, he wondered how the points worked.
If the bottom half was worth 1 point, and the top half was worth 2 points, the people on the bottom had to work twice as hard just to keep up in points. I guess the goal was to advance all the way up to the halfway point then beat enough people above you to move up a few ranks. That way, you would be pretty secure in your position unless you just didn’t fight at all, so in that case, you would almost immediately drop to the bottom, then be replaced by the top ranking of the class below yours. There was one thing that Ryan was sure of:
If you don’t work hard, you’ll without doubt fall to the bottom and never recover.
The bell rang and everyone rose and walked to and out the doors in one large mass.
They broke off into their groups as they entered the second building. He looked at the pyramid. Round two. In 3 days, he would be ranked 400.
Ryan squatted outside the fighting room. Damn. This was taking too long. Even if it was only taking 4 days to rise 100 spots, he felt like it was taking forever. He bit the inside of his cheek. He was being impatient, and his younger brother always teased him about it.
“Hey Renee! There are only 3 days left!’ The little brat would jump around and taunt her. No matter what the occasion, he would always let her know how many weeks, days, hours, minutes, even seconds sometimes, were left to whichever event happened to be closest.
Ryan smiled. He wondered what the little asshole was doing now. He was probably doing his afternoon training or maybe lunch. Oh well. Who was having more fun?
He looked around at the slightly beaten group around him, then thought about his mother’s cooking. Probably his brother...
“Alright! The next 25 matches are going to start. Find the place marked off on the floor that corresponds to the number you saw on the pyramid! We’re going to get this going in a few minutes!”
Ryan found his spot, stood there for approximately 5 minutes, then kicked some poor guys ass for 3 minutes, and left after making sure the guy marked his name off.
He still hadn’t seen any of the others and wondered what was going on. He decided to forget it. He’d go home, eat, then go back to sleep until tomorrow morning. Forget the fact it was only 1 in the afternoon. He would be able to do it.
Traveling back to the dorm building, he took the elevator to his floor. Swiping his card, he stepped in and kicked his shoes off. He left them in the middle of the floor and rounded the corner.
Looking at the fridge, he wondered if he should eat again before going to sleep. He frowned. There wasn’t any more food IN the fridge, so that option was out.
Ryan dropped onto his couch and leaned back. He turned on the TV and the little box projected the image onto the air. He turned it to a music station, classical, and let it soothe him into sleep.
Author’s Note : Aa, dammit. The chapters are only getting longer… Oh well, did some more character explanation, though it doesn’t explain why Traine suddenly has this growing interest in Ryan. ::shrugs:: I’ll figure it out sometime.
