"Rembrandt, look at me." Rain leaned over the small table and puffed smoke in the vampire's face. He blinked. "I was talking to you," she said, leaning back in her seat. She set her legs on the table, crossed, and puffed out of her cigarette again. The holes of her fishnets were beginning to get bigger in spots. She pulled down her leather skirt a tad, just to get Remb's attention. He didn't even glance down.
"Bill," she called to the bartender, "Give me a few more Lavenders." Billy nodded, and got out two glasses. Rain looked back at Rembrandt. "What have you been doing with your life?" She asked. He coughed. "Nothing really." She pulled her feet down as a waitress put down her drinks. Rain slid a few gold coins on the table.
She drank out of the purple-tinted liquid. "You're telling me that within a year, you haven't been doing anything?"
Remb smiled. "It's only been a few months, dearie."
"It was longer than that."
"Not by a longshot."
Rain glared at him. "You don't fucking tell me how long it's been, if it's only been a few months." She took another drink, and set it down next to another empty glass. Rembrandt nodded. "I won't do it again." No use arguing with her when she's drunk, he thought.
She picked up the glass again, finished it, and set it back down. "I'm bored as fuck," she said, flicking her cigarette onto a tray. She took another puff, and crushed it in the tray. "You can't tell me you don't want anything to drink." Rembrandt shook his head, and watched her take a few gulps out of the remaining glass. He leaned over and slowly took the cup away from her lips, putting it back down on the table. "You should be getting home, and I should be going back to Chris."
"You guys sound like you're a married couple," Rain said, going for the glass. Remb put his hand on hers. "You shouldn't drink that much in one night." She leaned over and kissed him. "We should go home," she said, laughing. "Let me finish my drink first though, 'kay?"
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
Sunday, March 4, 2007
Vanilla Housing. Chapter one.
Margaret turned in her bed, trying to stir from sleep. She knew she had to go to school, but it was just too goddamn warm within the protection of her many blankets. She didn't remember it being this warm, especially not in February, but the sun might be shining through? I left the curtains closed... replied her mind. No matter where the warmth was coming from, she felt perfectly content. She turned over and expected her alarm clock to sound. It didn't. She waited a few minutes, and then opened her eyes slightly. She didn't see the familiar green numbers flashing 7:00.
Margaret gave herself a little time and pulled the sheets. She blinked at her reflection from a number of CD's pasted to her ceiling that weren't there before. She looked around the dark room and realized it wasn't hers. She sat up and stumbled awkwardly to closet doors, near another door she didn't wish to open right then. Margaret opened the closet doors to reveal a walk-in closet she could only dream of having. It contained, what seemed, every type and style of clothes out there. She quietly closed the closet door and put a hand on the doorknob of the actual door which probably lead out of this room.
Don't you do it, her mind screamed at her. Don't you dare do it!
Of course, she turned the handle and pushed the door open.
The door opened to a hallway with white carpetting and walling. Another door was straight in front of her, and to the left were glass doors leading to what seemed like an indoor garden. Margaret looked to the right and saw an all-white livingroom (with the exception of green couches) and an all-white kitchen in the far right corner. She sat down on a couch and looked around for a front door. There didn't seem to be one."Maggie?" A tired voice came behind her. She jumped and turned around, facing her best friend, James. He looked around and ran his fingers through his getting-long black hair. He let it fall back over his face. "Where are we...?"
She shook her head. "How am I supposed to know? I didn't bring you here." Still looking around the room, James walked over and sat on the couch next to Margaret. They sat in silence for a few minutes. "There's no door," Margaret said quietly. James looked at her and saw her green eyes staring at the glass doors leading to the greenhouse. He put an arm around her in a quick hug. She didn't move. James pulled back, and looked at the kichen. "Well, this is our house I guess. You hungry?"
Margaret looked at him for a minute."What?" he said, standing up. "Whoever owns this place will eventually come. And plus, they kidnapped us, right? We're entitled to food." Margaret put her head in her knees and groaned. He paused to look at her, and then went to the fridge and started digging."You know," Margaret said, muffled, "We can get a shitload of money if we were kidnapped. But I don't think we were."James looked at her, midway in taking out a block of cheese. "Why do you say that?"She lifted her head and looked at him. "They'd want a ransom. And they'd probably torture us. To death. Because you know my parents wouldn't be able to pay for it even if they wanted their daughter back."James laughed. "Well then come join me over here before we get killed, Maggie."
She smiled and went over by James, leaning over the counter. "What food do they have?"James opened the fridge. "Anything you want." He laughed and threw her a block of yellow cheese in a bag. Margaret caught it and examined it. "What if this is poisoned?"He looked at her. "You're so paranoid. No one's out to get you Maggie. I won't let them." She tried to hide their smile. "You're acting real weird, are you sure there's nothing in this cheese?""What do you mean?""You're being all..." She put it down.
"Being all what?""Sweet." Margaret said quietly.James smiled. "You say that a lot." He held his hand out and she tossed back the cheese. James took it out of the plastic and looked around for a knife. "How come, out of a kitchen full of everything you could possibly eat for free, you chose cheese?" Margaret asked. She leaned over the counter and handed him a knife. He nodded to her in thanks. "I don't know, I haven't had it in a while."
He cut the cheese in half and gave Margaret a piece. She set it on the counter. "What're we going to do?" She asked. James leaned against the opposite counter and shrugged. "What do you want to do?"
"I'd like to check out that garden."
Margaret gave herself a little time and pulled the sheets. She blinked at her reflection from a number of CD's pasted to her ceiling that weren't there before. She looked around the dark room and realized it wasn't hers. She sat up and stumbled awkwardly to closet doors, near another door she didn't wish to open right then. Margaret opened the closet doors to reveal a walk-in closet she could only dream of having. It contained, what seemed, every type and style of clothes out there. She quietly closed the closet door and put a hand on the doorknob of the actual door which probably lead out of this room.
Don't you do it, her mind screamed at her. Don't you dare do it!
Of course, she turned the handle and pushed the door open.
The door opened to a hallway with white carpetting and walling. Another door was straight in front of her, and to the left were glass doors leading to what seemed like an indoor garden. Margaret looked to the right and saw an all-white livingroom (with the exception of green couches) and an all-white kitchen in the far right corner. She sat down on a couch and looked around for a front door. There didn't seem to be one."Maggie?" A tired voice came behind her. She jumped and turned around, facing her best friend, James. He looked around and ran his fingers through his getting-long black hair. He let it fall back over his face. "Where are we...?"
She shook her head. "How am I supposed to know? I didn't bring you here." Still looking around the room, James walked over and sat on the couch next to Margaret. They sat in silence for a few minutes. "There's no door," Margaret said quietly. James looked at her and saw her green eyes staring at the glass doors leading to the greenhouse. He put an arm around her in a quick hug. She didn't move. James pulled back, and looked at the kichen. "Well, this is our house I guess. You hungry?"
Margaret looked at him for a minute."What?" he said, standing up. "Whoever owns this place will eventually come. And plus, they kidnapped us, right? We're entitled to food." Margaret put her head in her knees and groaned. He paused to look at her, and then went to the fridge and started digging."You know," Margaret said, muffled, "We can get a shitload of money if we were kidnapped. But I don't think we were."James looked at her, midway in taking out a block of cheese. "Why do you say that?"She lifted her head and looked at him. "They'd want a ransom. And they'd probably torture us. To death. Because you know my parents wouldn't be able to pay for it even if they wanted their daughter back."James laughed. "Well then come join me over here before we get killed, Maggie."
She smiled and went over by James, leaning over the counter. "What food do they have?"James opened the fridge. "Anything you want." He laughed and threw her a block of yellow cheese in a bag. Margaret caught it and examined it. "What if this is poisoned?"He looked at her. "You're so paranoid. No one's out to get you Maggie. I won't let them." She tried to hide their smile. "You're acting real weird, are you sure there's nothing in this cheese?""What do you mean?""You're being all..." She put it down.
"Being all what?""Sweet." Margaret said quietly.James smiled. "You say that a lot." He held his hand out and she tossed back the cheese. James took it out of the plastic and looked around for a knife. "How come, out of a kitchen full of everything you could possibly eat for free, you chose cheese?" Margaret asked. She leaned over the counter and handed him a knife. He nodded to her in thanks. "I don't know, I haven't had it in a while."
He cut the cheese in half and gave Margaret a piece. She set it on the counter. "What're we going to do?" She asked. James leaned against the opposite counter and shrugged. "What do you want to do?"
"I'd like to check out that garden."
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