yeah :'< I don't have much love for Mari. But she represents the general population. What she's doing--isn't considered cruel or unusual. To her, it's just common sense. It's what she was brought up to know.
anyways, Part 26.
Once more, if you haven't caught up yet, you can read it all here: http://manamaraya.deviantart.com/galler ... e-of-a-Mut
It was impossible for me to stay home. I just—couldn't. I needed to stay somewhere quiet, somewhere I could just think.
I headed for the studio.
Using my key to get in, it was a rather different place when no one else was there. The silence was welcome and I headed straight into the music room. Gingerly closing the door behind me, I eyed Averil's acoustic bass—and without much hesitation, picked it up. I began to strum chords at random—anything that felt fitting—that sounded right. I closed my eyes as I played, and allowed my mind to wonder. It went many places. I tried to think of how trivial my current situation was. I tried to tell myself that this was so temporary—that in the long run, it will mean nothing to me. I knew hardship. I lived through it. I told myself that this was far from it. I still had a home to live in, food to eat, and Mari still loved me... Just not as I had thought. It wasn't that bad. It wasn't bad at all. It wasn't bad.
This time of year, night came early. It was just past six, and already the sunlight was vanishing for the night. I was bored with playing bass—but I wasn't quite ready to return home. The idea of facing Mari again still gave me a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach—and I just couldn't convince myself that home was a good idea. Instead, I swallowed a small morphine pill. I took it whole and waited for it's comfort to take over me. Sluggishly, I sat myself on the floor in a corner—and after a short wait I began to nod off. The pill made sleep come so easy.
I woke up the next morning—and contemplated taking another full pill. I gave my head a shake and rejected the idea. Instead, I picked up the phone in the studio lobby and gave Cougen a shout.
“Hello—” Cougen's optimistic voice picked up.
I cleared my throat, “Hey Cougen, it's Tu.”
“Heeey! How you doing?”
I tried not to sigh, and put on a happy tone, “I'm fine. I just—figure I could use the company of a friend or two.”
“Ah—” Cougen replied, “For sure! But not today, man. I've got something here I have to do. How about tomorrow for lunch, hey? Maybe we can see if Davey can come chum with us too. That guy needs to get out of his office more.”
I frowned, “Oh—Alright then. Yeah, lunch tomorrow sounds cool.”
“Awesome, dude!” There was a slight hesitation from him and I got the feeling that something else had caught his attention where he was, “Ah—I gotta run now. You take care, alright? I'll see you later!”
“Alright, bye Coug.” There was a click as he hung up—and reluctantly, I put down the phone.
I waited and thought for a moment—before picking the phone back up and dialing Davey's number. I was certain he wouldn't be available, but I knew I just needed to be around someone who'd keep me from thinking too hard about Mari—and Lance.
“Yeah, hello.” I had to grin at the sound of his voice. He always seemed so down trodden to the point that it was almost ridiculous.
“Hi Dave.” I replied
There was a heavy sigh from him, “You're definitely one of my muts, and you're voice isn't deep enough to be Cougen—so I'm going to guess this is Turu.”
“Hope that's not too disappointing,” I replied, “I was just wondering if you'd have time to maybe go for a quick coffee or something.”
“You know Tu, some of us have real jobs, with real hours, that requires real work to be put in. Not like that whole music making bullshit you got going on.” He snorted.
I bit my lip in mild disappointment, “I guess that means you're busy then, hey?”
Davey let out a laugh, “Ah, hell no. Where do you want to meet then?”
I immediately lightened up, “Oh—uh, I'm at the studio right now, and there's a coffee shop just down the street. Is the corner of Seventh and Center too much of a hassle for you?”
“Seventh and Center? Yeah, I can do that. Just give me fifteen, okay?”
“See you then, kiddo.” He hung up.
I waited inside the cafe for him—and when he did show up, he took one look at me and paused.
“What's wrong, boy?” He narrowed his eyes at me.
I furrowed my eyebrows at him, “What?”
Davey proceeded to take off his jacket and hang it on the back of his chair, “I'm not going to pretend to be an expert on muts—but I've learned enough to know that when you guys are upset about something, your ears get all sad and droopy, like a dog that's been caught pissing on the carpet or something.” He took his seat and clasped his hands on the table top, “What's wrong?”
“Nothing.” I replied. He rose an eyebrow, clicking his jaw in disbelief and I sighed, “Mari and I just had a bit of an argument over some miscommunication. That's not really what I wanted to talk about with you, though.”
Davey offered me one of his sarcastic grins, “Ah—women can be terrifying creatures when it comes to arguments,” He replied, “Just remember, they're always right—and you'll stay out of trouble that way.”
The corner of my mouth twitched upward, “I'll keep that in mind then.”
He leaned back in his chair, “Alright, other than lady problems, how's life? How's your musical stuff going?”
“Good, actually. We've got an interview with some magazine soon. The concert went really well, too!”
“Right, I read about it in the news.” He laughed, “Averil definitely knew what she was doing when she recruited you, hey? The very moment a mut is in some kind of a spotlight for a positive reason, the masses just flock to the scene. It's big news! Jesus Christ, it's a mut making a name for himself!” He opened his hands, impressed, “I'm proud of you, so far.”
“Thank you,” I replied modestly, “I'm more impressed with people's reactions.”
“Yeah well—” Davey hesitated and drew a breath, “I wouldn't start feeling to comfortable about it just yet. The bigger you get, the bigger your opposition will get. The louder people become about you, the louder your opposition will become against you. I don't want to discourage you—but I'd like to make sure you're aware of the dynamic you'll be faced with.”
I looked down at the table, “Yeah—but even if I get that 'big', I'll have you watching my back, right?”
Davey grinned, “Yeah, you will.”
“Then I don't feel threatened by anything.” I replied conclusively.
He gave an uncertain groan, “I still wouldn't get too...complacent, alright? I'm a cop, not a superman.”
We stayed and chatted a while longer before Davey glanced at his watch, “Well, I gotta run, kiddo.” He stood up and grabbed his coat.
I followed his example, “Okay—thanks for coming, Dave.”
He shot me a look as if I was ridiculous, “I don't get to see you boys nearly often enough. I'm happy to come and chat when I can.” He pulled out his wallet and put some cash on the table for the bill, “I'll see you later, Tu.”
“Take care, Davey.” I waved after him.