Sino City was only a few hours away. Silas had thanked Pat many times before leaving. Now, they stood in the apartment room they had just rented. It was ridiculously small; there were only two rooms – one bedroom and a half kitchen and half living room. But Silas looked at it with extreme pride, a giant grin on his face.
As well as being small, the apartment was quite empty. The kitchen had an oven, a fridge, and perhaps a foot of kitchen space. The living room was completely empty, and the bedroom had only a bed – if it could be called that. It was a small, thin, depressing mattress that laid on the floor. Silas smiled wide regardless, looking at Aarav.
"Isn't this amazing?" he asked cheerily. Aarav raised an eyebrow as he looked around the place, clearly unamused.
"Are we looking at the same apartment here?" he asked. Silas ignored the comment.
"Oh, its wonderful! We're out of that nasty city! Think of all the wonderful things that can happen here," he said, throwing his arms out in a wide gesture. He still had a proud smile on his face as he looked around.
Aarav hated to make it go away, truly, he did – but if Silas wouldn't think logically, he had to.
"You really think that don won't make people come over here to get you? We're just a town over, you know." Silas glanced at Aarav, his smile faltering a little.
"A town over," he said slowly, "with a different don."
Aarav snorted, but it held no humor, and neither did his face. "They could talk this new don into killing you. You're insignificant to them, just some lowly scum, in their eyes – why would they care if another don needed you to die?"
Now Aarav felt a twinge of guilt hit his heart when the smile on Silas' face completely dropped. Silas knew it was true, of course; to the don's, the men in power – he was nothing to them. He took a deep breath before he allowed a determined look to come onto his face.
"Well," he sighed, "I won't give up just yet. What do I need…," he paused, pursing his lips. "What do I… ah! A job. I need a job, to make some money – just in case, and then… right, yes… yes. First things first, I need a job."
Aarav sighed deeply, shaking his head. He had to admire, Silas' strength, of course. He sure was determined.
Silas began a new song on the piano now. He had been playing for over five hours straight now, but this would be his final song for the night. He played one of the first songs he was taught. He had learned the piano at a young age. His mind wandered back to that time as he played.
He didn't remember much of his mother, but he knew she had left him with one thing; the piano. She wasn't the kindest woman, nor was she gentle. But he wanted to believe she genuinely wanted the best for him. From a young age, she wanted him to succeed. So, she bought hi piano lessons. He didn't get many lessons before everything changed, though. She had died soon after that, leaving him with nothing – no money, no home, nothing.
But she did leave him with one thing; the piano. He remembered the lessons – what little there was – and had continued to practice using the piano that was in the middle of Galet. That was the only way he was able to earn money back then.
That old piano was gone now, of course. But the memories stuck with him. That wasn't the best, but… but it was ok. Because with those memories stuck the songs he had learned on his own. He still liked to play, perhaps more than he did before – but it wasn't his passion.
Finally, the song ended, and he stood. He glanced around now. The bar was nearly empty now. It was far different than the seemingly hundred people that had filled it earlier in the night. Silas glanced at the counter now, being motioned over. He approached the bartender.
"You're very good at that piano," he said with a soft smile. Silas smiled a polite smile, nodding his thanks. The bartender pulled a few dollars from his pocket, placing them in Silas' hand. Silas hesitated, looking at the money.
Three dollars? He chewed his lip. He'd need a lot more than that to get around, he thought silently. He wasn't bitter, though. He looked up, noticing a sad smile on the bartenders face.
"I'm sorry," he said softly, "that's all we could spare… the fee's rough on us business', and we haven't been gettin much lately…."
"That's alright," Silas said, his bright smile returning. "Is there any more work I could do?"
The bartender glanced around the bar, pausing. "Well… all our servers have gone home for the night. We were shorthanded today, and they were quite overwhelmed… would you mind bringing out food and drink to people?"
"Not at all," Silas said, smiling still. The man handed him a cup of some sort of alcohol, smiling back. He pointed to a table now in the far corner – it was the only table full of people. There were four people sitting around it.
Silas walked towards the table, cup in hand. As he walked, he glanced around the room. He spotted Aarav, silently asleep at an empty table. He looked back to the table, and paused. One of the men, the one sitting closest to him, was smoking.
It was… odd, though. Odd smoke. Instead of a light grey color that could barely be seen, it… well – it was surely easy to see. A striking red color. Thin, but bright.
The truly startled Silas, however, was that through this red smoke, he could see even brighter eyes. The smoke paled in comparison to this pair of bright red eyes. He stared into them now, realizing that they were staring right at him now as well.
The smoke had dissipated a bit now, revealing a handsome looking man. His hair was a white color – it wasn't as though he were old, though. it just seemed naturally white. It was slicked back. The man wore expensive-looking items; a red dress shirt with a black tie around his neck and black slacks.
One of the mans eyes slid down in a wink. It was quick; if Silas hadn't been looking, he was sure he would have missed it. Slowly, Silas approached the table. He placed the cup onto the table, unsure who's it was.
Silas tried not to wrinkle his nose – the men reeked of booze and cigars. He saw the red man look at it, a slightly disgusted look on his face as he took another drag from his cigar. He then looked up from the cup, right at Silas. His expression changed to one of amusement.
"What're ya doin' here, doll face?" he asked. His voice was deep, smooth. He cocked an eyebrow as Silas hesitated. What did he mean? Silas thought. Obviously, he was serving them. One of the others at the table chuckled, drawing the attention slightly.
"Ya gay, Ru—" he was cut off as the red man lifted a hand. The man's mouth snapped shut, as if moving with the red mans hand. The other man looked confused, as if unsure what had just happened. He touched his mouth gingerly, silently baffled.
"Well, doll?" the man prompted.
"I'm… err… serving," Silas said dumbly, unsure what the man wanted him to say. The man tilted his head, eyes trailing up and down him, studying him. Silas' ears went pink as he realized the mans confusion. Silas wasn't wearing very… well… typical clothes, for a server. Usually, the servers would at least try to look professional. Silas, on the other hand, was wearing a simple, dirtied t-shirt and slightly ripped jeans.
"Look a bit lost here, barmaid," the red man said. Now Silas' entire face went red. >Barmaidbarmaid
The red man smirked a little, looking smug. He appeared to have realized he'd struck a chord with Silas, and seemed to be enormously proud of that fact.
"Have a name, doll?" That angered Silas. But before he could answer, a new man at the table cleared his throat, sitting forward.
"Stop harassing the boy, Ruk. We have business to do," he said gruffly. The red man, Ruk, frowned. Then, he shrugged, waving his hand. Was he… dismissing me? Silas thought. What a rude way to say goodbye. But he walked away anyway, glad to be away from the man.
The man… Ruk… he gave Silas a bad feeling. He wasn't sure why – no… no, he knew why. Most likely, it was the smugness. The smugness of being fine with calling another >barmaid<.
Silas glanced up as a drink came into his vision. There was a new bartender in front of him, this one replacing the last for the nightshift. Silas waited for instructions, but he already knew who it was going to. There were only about four others in the room, including Aarav and Ruk.
Now, the bartender nodded her head to Ruk, confirming Silas' suspicions. Silas glanced at the red man now. He was alone at the table now, his entire table having left hours earlier, along with most others. Ruk stayed, though. He continued to order drinks, one at a time.
"Think our friend might like you," the bartender snickered.
Silas took the drink, slowly moving towards the table. He noticed Aarav was still resting. He chewed his lip, wishing he had an excuse to leave – but he needed all the money he could get, so leaving wasn't exactly an option now.
His attention turned back to Ruk now. He watched as Ruk took a sip of the still-full drink he already had. Why would he order another? There were two full cups resting on his table. He shook the thought from his head, almost at the table now. Just do the job, and you can leave, he thought.
Silas placed the cup on the table, avoiding eye contact. As he turned to leave, though, Ruk shifted. He moved his hand, as if gesturing for him to come closer. Silas paused, confused. Then he felt a chair press against the back of his legs. This caught him off guard, and he fell back onto it.
Quickly, Silas looked behind him. Yet… no one was there. How had the chair…?
"Stay a while, doll," Ruk's voice came. Silas turned his attention back to the man. He saw a small smirk cross his face as he took another sip of the drink. Now, Ruk furrowed his eyebrows, setting the cup back down. He wrinkled his nose a little, as though in disgust. "Don't think I'll get used to the taste of human alcohol, truly."
"Hu-… human…?" Silas said slowly, confused. What on earth did this man mean, human?
Ruk gave Silas an amused look now, different from before. "You're new here, aren't you, barmaid?"
Silas bit his tongue, feeling his face heat up in embarrassment. Prick, he thought bitterly. He didn't dare say it, though. He wasn't sure what this man did for a living, but by the expensive rings on his hand, the clothes he wore – well, he could certainly make a good guess.
"I am what you would call…," Ruk hesitated, unsure how to continue. He smirked, looking back to Silas. "Well, a monster, I suppose."
Now Silas was very confused. What Ruk was saying made no sense, in fact, it confused him, made him upset. He took a deep breath, trying to think. Alright… what did he know, then? Yes, there was a lot they didn't know – but there had to be something he knew, right?
Let's see… Ruk isn't – or, he claims he isn't – a human. Rather… a monster. Plus, from what he's seen, he could… use magic? He got that man to close his mouth, this chair moved on its own – all at the movement of his hand.
Ruk watched in amusement as Silas thought things through. "I have to admit," Ruk mused aloud, "you are intriguing. You don't seem scared of magic – or perhaps the reality of things haven't set in. Either way… you amuse me."
Silas considered that a moment. Perhaps it was true. But now, Silas set him face. It was odd. He felt… insulted by the mans words, oddly. Though, perhaps it was Aarav that; his invisible friend had been with him so long – over ten years, even – perhaps it was just that he was null to magic now. At least, this level of magic; moving things at will… it simply wasn't that impressive to him.
"So, what… you can use magic or something?"
"Indeed. Now, I don't believe I caught your name?" Ruk said, as if magic was no matter. Silas sat up a bit straighter, looking Ruk in his eyes.
"Oh," he said, shrugging, "that's because I never gave it to you."
Ruk raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "Ahh, I see. Then, I politely ask you… what is your name?" Silas chewed his lip slightly. He almost felt compelled to answer – but quickly, he caught himself. Why should he give this jerk his name? Give them the satisfaction of knowing his name? He narrowed his eyes as he stared at Ruk.
"Who are you?"
Ruk smirked, sitting back. Alright, barmaid, he thought. I'll play your game for now. "I'm called Ruk."
"No," Silas said. Ruk raised an eyebrow at that. "I mean who >are< you? What do you do – how do you have this… this expensive lifestyle?"
Ruk smirked, sipping the alcohol again as he thought. "Hmm… I'm a business man," he said, a bit too cheerily.
Silas' eyes narrowed again. Yea, right, he thought. There was only one type of 'business' in this world; murder. Ruk's smile faltered as he saw the suspicion on Silas' face, before disappearing altogether.
A shiver ran up Silas' spine – he had to be honest, the man could look scary when he tried. Not that he didn't look scary before…
"Would you rather I tell you I kill people?" he asked dully. Silas frowned. He knew Ruk was a killer, but he had hoped… oh, what did it matter? The only way to succeed in this life, in the eyes of a 'business man', as Ruk claimed to be, was to murder.
And then Silas felt something new building inside of him. Disgust. And it was building fast. He hated the idea of sitting here with this man, talking so casually, as if he wasn't such a horrible person. He was speaking to a murderer.
Now, Ruk waved his hand in that dismissive way. "You still haven't told me your name, you know. Or, would you rather I call you barmaid?"
Silas stiffened, sitting straight now. This man really was getting on his nerves. He leaned forward a bit, making sure he had Ruk's full attention. He stared straight into those red eyes, trying to show none of the hesitation or fear he felt.
"I'd rather," he said. He was trying to keep his voice was shaking with anger. "You don't speak to me ever again."
Immediately after saying this, Silas stood. There was a loud crash as the chair fell back, waking Aarav from his sleep. He looked around, watching as Silas walked out of the house, face red. Quickly, he jumped up, following him.
Silas stopped outside the door, looking up. Had he really been working that long? It had already turned night, the moon high in the sky by now. He scowled. If it weren't for Ruk… he would have been out so much sooner.
He shook the bitter thoughts from his head, leaning against the wall. Alright… he'd take a breather, probably go home, and collect his pay later… yes. That will do.