RIGOLOS
I'm finally home, and it's still before dawn. My life's a whirlwind - I'm a debonair, low-key egotistical, and talented in my own way. I dominate motocross, dabble in guitar, and endorse motorbike helmets. With so much on my plate, it's rare for me to be back in my own sanctuary, BoRat.
Fortunately, our butler Gone Boy was on top of things and let me in. We call him Gone Boy because, honestly, I have no idea where he's from or his family story - he's just been with us forever. At first, I thought he might be a serial killer, but I didn't bother getting to know him; I figured he'd be boring.
I headed to the kitchen to quench my thirst and found Ruel-Blue, in his sando, making coffee. I bet he brought someone home again and their grinding session went on all night. He's finally getting some rest. His endurance in bed is impressive too.
I grabbed a glass of water and then made myself a cup of cortado. We stepped out onto the terrace together, as I couldn't shake off my wakefulness. The gentle wind carried a refreshing chill, evoking the festive atmosphere of Christmas.
"Do you think I'm crazy if I say I've been sleeping in a cave?" I spoke, and Ruel-Blue lit up a cigarette.
"Crazy? Maybe 'trailblazer' is the more fitting term."
"Why? Are you going to follow in my footsteps? Sleep in my cave, do everything I do?"
"Hey, I'm intrigued by your adventures, but I'll pass. I'm good with motocross and chasing girls. And I sense you like Jane Aguamente, right? Has she already earned cool points from you?"
"At first, she's like murky water - you'd only consider her when there's no other option. But over time, you're drawn in, curious about her true flavor."
"Hale's been asking about you. She's wondering why you're ghosting her - no video calls, no replies to her texts. She's being a bit immature about it."
"I'm not just annoyed by her immaturity, but also her grating voice, clingy behavior, and gremlin-like looks. I'm clueless what my dad was thinking when he arranged our marriage."
"She's still looking forward to her guillotine moment, and you'll take the fall, while she parties in hell. Talk about a unique fiancée you've got there!"
"If she's so keen, I'll happily organize her beheading party and throw her a grand bash."
I'm tempted to shake my head at you and Hale, BoRat. It seems like you're both plagued by various afflictions - keratitis affecting your eyes, gingivitis in your mouths, labyrinthitis in your ears, and sinusitis in your noses. You're practically embodiment of illnesses.
And now, you're in the engineering building's parking lot, having just arrived on campus. When you took off your helmet, I surmised that you're not quite the rugged type - more angelic, so, are you perfect?
I hadn't realized Fluffy was waiting for you. She's been patiently awaiting your arrival, and her dedication is admirable. She's even gone to great lengths to look lovely today, and you're having a James Dean effect on her.
Meanwhile, Fluffy, carrying a neatly wrapped gift, was collecting her thoughts. She elegantly tucked a stray hair behind her ear, composed herself, and approached you with anticipation, hoping you'd appreciate her thoughtful gesture. Unfortunately, her nerves got the better of her, and she accidentally dropped the gift.
As the ornate box soared through the air, its lasso came undone, exposing a black forest cake. The sweet treat landed on a student's attire, and in a cruel twist, splattered onto Figaro's leather jacket. Figaro, the rugged leader of a motorcycle gang, was less than amused. While the scene was predictable, it was undeniably engaging, BoRat, thanks to the dramatic flair.
"I'm fuming with anger! This jacket is brand new and you're already staining it? You're so careless, can't you be more careful?" Fluffy shuddered in terror as Figaro loomed over her, resembling a vulnerable, rain-soaked chick huddled in a corner, leaving you aghast at the scene unfolding before your eyes.
"How much did it cost? Where did you buy it? I'll just replace it with a new one."
"Oh, you're asking me how much right away? I'll ask you, do you even know how to apologize? You're arrogant, thinking I'm made of money? Were you not raised properly by your parents? You're rude!"
"Sorry if my attitude isn't pleasant. Shall I kneel on the concrete and kiss your shoes? Do you want me to serve you further?" Just as Fluffy was about to kneel before Figaro and kiss his shoes, you intervened. You stopped Fluffy, and intrigued students started to close in on the scene.
"Stop it, Rosie. You're taking it too far. Your groveling is more despicable than a killer's deed."
"But I really committed a grave mistake against him. I deserve to be punished."
"I saw the whole thing. You accidentally spilled cake on Figaro - it wasn't on purpose. But now, you're just embarrassing yourself even more with all the groveling and shoe-kissing. Just keep quiet and hold onto my shirt. I'll handle the situation with Figaro." Rosie trailed behind you, clinging to your attire and seeking refuge in your presence, shadowing your every step.
"What's going on with you and that girl? You two aren't likely to be a couple since she's not stunning and really extra." You glanced at Fluffy, who was struggling to hold back tears. You couldn't help but ponder the true nature of your relationship.
"She's just my friend." A simple yet clear response.
"Wow, really, just 'friends?' If I heard from someone I admire from afar that they only consider me a friend, I'd cry, and not just that, I'd lock myself in my room." Figaro was taunting Fluffy, whispering to her that you merely regard her as a friend.
"Figaro, I'm sorry about what my friend did. If you won't let us clean or replace your clothes, please tell me how I can make it right."
"Okay, lean in. I've got something to tell you. Tonight at 10, head to Camomile Street, and don't forget your bike. Be there and you'll find out the consequences."
Following Figaro's departure, the curious crowd dissipated. With Fluffy now composed, you walked her out of the accountancy building. During our professor's lecture, I sat distracted, lost in thought as I gazed out the window, Figaro's enigmatic words still echoing in my mind, foreshadowing a significant or ominous discovery awaiting you at an undisclosed location.
I trailed behind you, leading me to the pine tree behind the university convention center, where Burgundy awaited you. The ambiance was serene, ideal for a clandestine encounter, and suitable for public sex. Observing from a distance, I noticed an intense connection between you two, your locked gazes and subtle lip movements conveying a deep understanding, releasing an air of infatuation.
As you approached, Burgundy welcomed you with a warm embrace, which you eagerly returned. After a tender moment, she removed your hat and affectionately ruffled your hair, gently stroking your cheek. You appreciated the gentle roughness of her touch, a poignant moment in a serious conversation. I watched, feeling a pang of sadness, but not envy.
"Rosie filled me in on what happened. But why Figaro, of all people? We all know he's not just anyone."
"I initially thought he'd harm Rosie, but I know he'd impose severe consequences."
"He'll challenge you to a race for sure, and I've got your back. I won't leave you hanging."
"Are you sure you want to join me? They might harm you, and I'd never forgive myself if anything bad happens to you because of me."
"We're best buddies, and I've got your back, even if you're being stubborn. They won't dare touch me. Don't you remember Grewean, the former StreetViking leader, is respected by Figaro?"
"What will you tell Grewean? You can't just leave his place without a good reason."
"I'll come up with something."
"Here's an idea. Come with me. Come home with us. Make a video call to Grewean, saying you're visiting our house to check on Mom who's sick, and I'll get Mama to convince Grewean to let you sleep over."
"Thanks, Bud, for coming up with a great idea. I really appreciate you, but I thought, what if I just ask Grewean for help? Figaro will probably cancel the race and forgive Rosie. But I'm angry with him, and if I ask for his help, he'll likely want something in return. So, let's stick to the plan."
"Hey Jane, aren't you hungry? I'm famished. I'll treat you."
"I'm still full, but come on, I'll join you to the Education cafeteria. They're selling hot 'benignit' there. Come on, let's go quickly! It's getting crowded and they might sell out."
Burgundy promptly took your hand and led you away, sharing a joyful laugh. Meanwhile, I'm experiencing a mix of emotions, BoRat - hunger, among them. Having arrived at the cafeteria before you, I purchased all the available sweetened porridge in plastic cups. Now, I'm surrounded by Education students, who seem to think a feeding program is underway.
I feigned nonchalance, gazing around at random objects, forcing a smile, and tuning out the giddying and admirations directed at me. Then, I pretended to spot you and Burgundy, and casually picked up a cup, toasting.
"Hey, you two! Come over! Don't be shy, I've got you covered. Free treats!" I waved you both over, summoning you with a friendly gesture to join me where I was standing.
"Look, Kintsugi is calling us." Just as you were about to come closer, BoRat, Burgundy restrained you.
"Hold on, I just recalled, last time I ate benignit here, it was infested with flies. Let's head to the Nursing cafeteria, their food is way cleaner." Then, you both turned away from me.
Damn it!
Nevertheless, I don't regret organizing a small feeding program for my schoolmates, and besides, it seems they've already depleted their allowances. But what valuable contributions can you make to our schoolmates, huh? I was eager to treat, yet you're disregarding my offer.
Burgundy's intense stare unsettled me. I have a few obligations to attend to before I can join you. I still have class, and I'd hate to miss it - knowledge is precious, after all. Who assumed you two, including Burgundy, are my top priority? Only myself.
When I stopped by the laundry shop near your house, I took the initiative to wash Stinky's foul-smelling clothes. Apparently, she never bothers to do laundry, repeatedly wearing the same attire. It's disgusting. I thought of discarding them and buying new ones, but who does she think she is, anyway? Does she feel entitled to good fortune?
Since you're indoors, I'm unsure of your current activities, but at this time of day, you're probably having dinner together - engaging in conversation, sharing stories, and offering advice and suggestions. Meanwhile, your motorcycle, BoRat, remains parked outside.
Facemask is out. Prosthetic mask is in.
With my mask on, I stepped out of the laundry shop for some fresh air. I observed people passing by - some returning home from work, others starting their day. As I savored my double dutch sorbet, I spotted a 'Room for rent' sign posted nearby. I've rented a room upstairs in this shop. It's spacious and straightforward, perfect for my bookshelf and blueprinting.
And from the window, I just saw you and Burgundy heading out. You look like actors in a science fiction dystopian thriller film. I rode the vintage motorcycle, discreetly following you and Burgundy, and from behind, I saw her hand resting on your waist until you reached Camomile Street.
Welcome to Camomile Street, a hidden underworld where illicit dealings unfold. Here, the StreetVikings also rule supreme. This gritty, neon-lit hub boasts sleek, high-tech roads purpose-built for high-stakes racing. Figaro greeted you at a stylish, cutting-edge gas station, flanked by fellow gang members.
"It's good that you didn't change your mind and still showed up as agreed. I admire your principles when it comes to friendship. And you even brought a gorgeous mademoiselle to cheer you on."
"So, what's at stake? What happens if I win or lose?"
"Relax, you just got here! Have a drink to calm your nerves. I may look like a delinquent and devilish person but I'm not out to trick you. And don't worry, this booze is clean." You picked up the shot glass, initially torn between drinking and disposing of its contents. Figaro's assurance about the bottle's authenticity reassured you, and with bolstered courage, you drank the liquor.
"Listen carefully. If you lose the race, your koala friend will become a gang slave. She'll follow our orders, and if she disobeys, she'll face the wrath of the StreetVikings, and I'll ensure she suffers."
"And if I win, will you leave Rosie alone?"
"You're right, but we'll still beat you up." Burgundy is skeptical of Figaro's claim and wants to challenge his credibility and reliability.
"What? What kind of consequence is that? This is chaos! You said you weren't deceitful, but why do you still need to beat up Rigolos if he wins?"
"He's too nosy. If only he hadn't interfered in my argument with Koala, there wouldn't have been any violence."
"No way, revise those rules! This isn't right!"
"You seem to have forgotten we're on Camomile Street, where justice doesn't mean a thing." Figaro reminded you, then you faced Burgundy and grasped both her shoulders to offer assurance. You smiled, and that gave her the courage to trust you more, strengthening her faith in you.
"Don't worry, Jane. I'll be okay, whatever they'll do."
"Pick your fate: Win and face the beating? Or lose and we'll let your friend off, but either way, you're getting a beating." Figaro is cautioning you once more, and his tone has turned threatening.
You and Burgundy exchanged glances, and your nervousness, anger, and annoyance are evident on your faces.
Now, choose: which of the two options is the lesser evil?
BERSERK PHANTASMS
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