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ashleyleigh
With a sigh, Jamie stood in a downtown club dressed in a suit wearing an itchy mask Kim demanded he wear. He thought maybe, just maybe, this night would be fun. Maybe he could enjoy a party and forget about the context. So far that had not been possible.
Every time someone came up to speak to him, they had this look of pity on their faces. They would talk to him in these low hushed tones unable to say the words dead or gone. He didn’t know what Chuck could possibly be late for being dead and all, but everyone else kept thinking it a fitting term to combine with his name. Jamie didn’t know what was worse, hearing “Your late brother” over and over again or people referring to him as Charles and then claiming they knew him. No one who knew him would even think to call him Charles. He never objected to being called by his given name, but it just never fit his personality the way Chuck did. Charles felt formal, even royal. Chuck was anything but.
“So, alcoholic beverages are out,” Kim said as she walked up to him, Shirley Temple in hand.
“Uh…oh, well,” Jamie said with a shrug.
“You know what’s a better than imbibing controlled substances?” Kim said. “Letting yourself have fun.”
“I’ve been trying.”
“No you haven’t,” Kim said. “You’ve been making that sad face all night and talking to everyone like you’re receiving them at a funeral.”
“That’s how they’re talking to me!”
“I really don’t care whose fault is, I just know I didn’t get all dressed up to mope around all night with you,” she said. “I want to shake my groove thing, so come along or be left behind.”
“I don’t dance,” Jamie said.
“You do now.”
“This is where you’ve been hiding,” Ray said when he found his sister sitting outside the club’s balcony all alone.
“Just getting some fresh air,” Delia said.
“Well, they need you inside,” he said. “It’s time for you to take some pictures with that big check.”
“Is Simone even here to present it?” she asked.
“No, but that’s probably for the best right?”
“Yeah, probably,” Delia agreed. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Or we could, you know, not,” Ray suggested.
“What?”
He sat down next to her and said, “Maybe it’s just me, but this dead man’s party blows. We’ve said all our hellos and you’ve more than done you’re part, so why don’t we just go home?”
“I can’t abandon this party,” Delia said.
“Why? Because of Chuck?”
“No, because of me,” she said. “This is something I need to do.”
“That makes absolutely no sense.”
“Chuck was a bastard, but this is like the one good thing he did,” she said. “And now it’s my job to make sure this good thing keeps going. If that means I have to wear itchy blue make up and smile at people I hate, so be it.”
“Being you sounds like so much work,” Ray said.
She smiled and said, “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
“Good, ‘cause it is.”
Delia sighed and said, “Well, let’s get this over with.”
“I’ll be there in a minute,” Ray said. “I need to make a phone call.”
As soon as she walked back inside, Ray pulled out his cell phone and called Max. The call went directly to voice mail.
With a sigh Ray said, “Hey man. I know you know all about Chuck and you’re probably feeling weird about it, but I really think you should come to this party. Just throw on that one suit I know you have and show up. Don’t think about it man. Just do it.”
He ended the call and walked back inside.
There was Simone, fashionably or appallingly late depending on how you looked at it.
“Is this happening?” Delia asked.
Ray nodded and replied, “Oh yeah. This is happening.”
________________________________________
“So Simone, this is an interesting look,” she said.
“I know you hate it,” Simone said.
“I don’t hate it, but it doesn’t seem like the kind of outfit you wear to a charity photo op,” Delia said.
“So what if it isn’t?” she asked with a shrug. “I like it.”
“Simone…”
“I wanted to have fun at this party Delia, so that’s what I’m doing,” she said, cutting her lawyer off before she could attempt to lecture her. “Why don’t you stop making that face and join in?”
“What face? I’m not making any face.”
“Whatever you say,” Simone said with a roll of her eyes as she signaled for the bartender.
“Really Simone?” Delia said.
“Fine, no drinking,” she said. “I suppose I can have fun without it.”
“You suppose, huh?”
Not noticing or perhaps pretending not to notice Delia’s tone, Simone said, “You know, I’ve always loved to dance.”
“So?”
“This is a really great song,” she said. “Let's hit the dance floor."
Delia opened her mouth to object, but said instead, “Sure. Why not?”
They both hit the dance floor, and after awhile, the entire party gravitated there. With everyone grooving along to the beat instead of eating canapés while pretending they knew anything about the charity they gave money to purely for the tax break, the party became much more fun for everyone involved.
No one noticed Chris sitting in a corner all by himself. He’d been there all night watching them from the sidelines. He couldn’t pinpoint why he sat in that chair for so long. He could’ve left hours earlier.
With a scowl he said, “Let’s get this over with.”
He walked past Simone on his way out, narrowly avoiding colliding with her.
“Why do I feel so woozy all of a sudden?” Simone asked.
________________________________________
An hour later Simone didn’t feel woozy, but she did feel irrationally angry.
“Who bumped into me!” she screamed to no one in particular because no one had bumped into her before throwing her recently emptied martini glass onto the ground with a crash.
As she stomped back upstairs to get another drink, Delia said, “This is so not the time for her to throw a temper tantrum.”
“Can you calm her down?” Jamie asked. “The Angst Rockets’ manager is threatening to walk.”
“That bitch would threaten to walk if their bottled water wasn’t the right temperature,” Delia spat. “Excuse my language.”
Laughing, Jamie said, “No, please, continue.”
“No need,” she said. “They’re not going anywhere. Not if they want the rest of their money.”
“Well, that’s one crisis averted,” he said. “You go calm down Charlie Sheen’s love child and I’ll hold down the fort down here.”
“That would mean you’d be doing the intro all by yourself,” Delia said. “I don’t want to send you out on that stage alone.”
“We both know you don’t want to do it,” Jamie said. “I’ll be fine.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Delia said. “Good luck.”
She ran off and with a sigh, Jamie walked onto the stage to introduce the band.
Immediately the crowd fell silent.
“Well…that’s…weird,” he said with a nervous chuckle.
He took a deep breath before saying, “I hope you’re all having a good time at the second annual James Henderson Arts Foundation gala. This all meant a lot to my brother, and he…we are very grateful for your donations. And if you’re still feeling like giving, the silent auction will be open for another hour. Bid on some local art and help a local artist.”
After a small pattering of applause died down, Jamie said, “I think you all may of heard about this little platinum selling, Grammy winning band being here. But they’re not here because they’re famous, they’re here because they were Chuck’s favorite band. When I was a little kid and I could barely hold a pencil, much less draw anything, he blasted their music all day and night. I didn’t know what an angst rocket was, but it sounded pretty cool to me. Their songs were much catchier than the ones on Barney at the very least.”
He concluded, “Since this night is for Chuck just as much as it’s for art, it seemed fitting that they be here. Everyone, the Angst Rockets.”
As the band took the stage downstairs, Delia confronted Simone upstairs.
“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t drink tonight!”
“I didn’t mean to!” Simone exclaimed.
“So that drink and all the others you’ve had in the last hour just appeared in your hand?”
“Well…no…but…”
“Save it Simone,” Delia snapped. “I really don’t care why you did it. It just needs to stop.”
“I’m trying…”
“You know, I really like you Simone, but there’s only so much I can take,” she said. “You’re not going to ruin tonight. I won’t let you.”
“I’m not trying to ruin things Delia.”
“You never try to do anything! You just do things, consequences be damned! And I’ve had enough!”
With a sigh, she pulled out her cell phone.
Simone asked, “Who…who are you calling?”
“Your father. If nothing else, he’ll get you out of here without causing anymore trouble.”
“Please, don’t call him,” Simone said. “I’ll be good, I promise.”
“It’s too late for that Simone. Way too late.”
Delia turned around to take the call, not noticing Simone’s contrition quickly being replaced by anger.
“She’s just as bad as him, always trying to control me,” she mumbled under her breath.
As the band’s lead singer announced they were about to play Chuck’s favorite song, Simone jumped Delia from behind.
No one downstairs could hear the struggle over the sound of the band, and no one upstairs dared get mixed up in a fight involving a suspected murderer.
Quickly realizing no one could or would help her, Delia struggled against Simone’s surprisingly tight grip. She pushed Simone away, scratching her assailant’s face with her nails.
Simone drunkenly stumbled back, the heel on one of her thigh high boots snapping. She slammed into the railing, arms flailing about for anything she could hold onto to stop her from flying over it.
“No, you can’t come over to look at her body Simone!” Roman said the next night. “Please, stop calling me. It’s not happening.”
With a sigh he hung up the phone. He’d been holed up in the office all day, not daring to talk to anyone face to face. He just knew anyone who saw him, would immediately be able to tell something was wrong, and he didn’t feel like spending all day fumbling to find the right lies to tell every person and vampire who waltzed into his office.
He even contacted his boss only by e-mail. Before Crawford called, he’d received a particularly angry e-mail from him full of capital letters and exclamation points demanding he start the autopsy on Simone Barclay immediately.
“Guess writing death by Chris on the form and calling it a day is out of the question,” he mumbled.
Before he could finally get the autopsy over with, he noticed Chris standing in the doorway.
“Nice new digs,” he said. “We need to talk. And somewhere away from the dead people please.”
As soon as they were safely away from the corpses on an upstairs balcony, Roman yelled, “What the hell are you doing Chris? No one was supposed to die!”
“So what we killed a murderer,” he said with a shrug. “I say we did everyone in town a favor.”
“What is the matter with you?”
“What is the matter with you?” Chris snapped. “What do you think Gerry’s going to do with Max once he gets his hands on him? Invite him to tea? We are in the business of revenge and people will get hurt. If you don’t like it, then get out of my way.”
“Your way?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Do I?”
Before Chris could answer, a loud banging noise caught their attention.
They ran downstairs to find one of the morgue drawers flung open and its occupant long gone.
“I’m guessing this isn’t good,” Chris said.
“It’s so not good.”
________________________________________
Meanwhile at the park, a jogger stopped to help a woman wandering around in what looked like a hospital gown.
“Uh…can I help you?” the jogger asked.
Her hands clutching her ears, the woman asked, “Why are you talking so loud?”
Offended that her kind gesture was going unnoticed, the jogger went off on a rant about how she stopped her work out to help a stranger and that stranger should at least pretend to be grateful.
“Please…stop talking.”
The jogger ignored her, on a roll and unwilling to engage her in conversation instead of lecture her.
She screamed, “Shut up!” at the jogger, eyes wild and newly acquired fangs bared.
The jogger screamed right back, but before she could turn and run, Simone grabbed her and sunk her fangs into the nearest flesh she could find.
As she walked off, blood thirst temporarily sated, she said, “This is interesting.”
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no subject
Date: 2011-02-13 10:34 pm (UTC)Still waiting to find out whether Chuck is special or just another run-o'-the-mill vamp. It's got me on tender-hooks! :)
Hope all of that makes sense, I've been lambing all afternoon so I've got bouncy lambs on the brain. I love this story!
no subject
Date: 2011-02-23 05:46 am (UTC)I wonder who turned her. I see she's taking the change quite well. :o
And a question that's been on my mind, what town do you play in? Sometimes it looks like Sunset Valley, but I wonder because of how many different buildings I've seen.
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Date: 2011-02-23 09:02 am (UTC)I shot all the downtown stuff from the last chapter and this chapter in Bridgeport.
Glad you like the story. Thanks for reading.
no subject
Date: 2011-02-25 07:42 am (UTC)