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Melodia

Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada

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a part of Melodia, by MagicalNeko.

None

MagicalNeko holds sovereignty over Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

503 readers have been here.

Setting

Default Location for Melodia
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Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada is a part of Melodia.

11 Characters Here

Monika Burvis Dadzis Grava [0] :|:Seeing Angels Where There Are Clouds Not Clouds Where There Are Angels:|:
Cayman Sebastian de Luca [0] "When I put bread in the toaster...and toast comes out...where did the bread go...?"
Phaedon Klopov [0] I'll do what you couldn't, I'll forgive you.
Alessia Yuna Kiyoshi [0] Carpe Diem, my friends. Carpe Diem.
Tailor Pencey [0] ..All clumsy fingers and swelled pupils.
Kaida Mishima Tengaki [0] <@>All that we see or seem, is but a dream within a dream<@>
Viena Juvonen Onnela Chepelskii [0] /:\Hoping For A Broken Glass On The Highway/:\
Magnus Liam Scarlette Villiers [0] "I'm not gay. Really... I'm not."

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I would have told him that yes, I did want soup, but my reaction time was significantly altered because I was still a little offended at his removal of my hand. I was sitting there trying to comfort him and he just got up like he was fine and started offering me food instead. Well then no, I wasn't hungry, but I'd eat whatever he wanted to serve me because I like Latvian food. Latvians don't get enough acknowledgement for how good their food is, or for really anything for that matter. But they should be. They should be acknowledged the same way ninjas and sporks are. Latvians are amazing people, and amazing things need to be acknowledged for their amazingness. What is the purpose of something in this world if people won't embrace it and cherish it in all its uniqueness? I'm sure they'll still function, but will it ever really be wholly alive and thirving? No. No it won't. It's half the reason why I get so pissed over Monika staying home all the time and hiding from the world. Not that anyone deserves to see him, but they would love him if he'd just come out and be social. I know it's not all his fault, but.... God, if he had an older brother he could just dump the little terrors on him and keep Niko.

So, anyway, as I was about to answer him, he walked away. I know that someone was knocking on the door, but he was in no condition to be on his feet anyway. I just wanted him to lay down on the couch with me sitting on the floor next to him and we'd have a huge bowl of popcorn to share between us while we watched something that I'd brought over from my place because Monika really doesn't have anything decent that I can understand. National Geographic doesn't count. I wanted to watch some real TV with him, like Video On Trial or Iron Chef: America. I wanted to put on something that would scare him until he was begging me to get up and sit with him, which of course I would, because I've (almost) never neglected him when he needed me most. Especially when he was scared. There was a certain vulnerability that I just couldn't ignore; sometimes I found myself considering ways to bring out his vulnerability without putting him in danger, and as he grew up I found it harder and harder to find the Monika that still needed me. I wasn't sure I liked him so independant. Then again, I didn't like seeing him, usually so strong, crying like a baby and not even caring if I saw him. That hurt. That hurt worse than thinking that he might not need me to protect him anymore.

It was when I heard his voice and that of another male that I actually dropped my little pout and looked up in interest. Monika didn't sound very happy. I actually straightened up when I heard him drop the F-Bomb, and I knew I had reason to worry now. I don't think I'd ever heard that out of him before, and maybe I was a little disturbed. Something was happening between us. He was hiding things from me, and I know he was old enough to have his own life, but.... It made me wonder what else he wasn't telling me, but I wouldn't have to wonder for very long. He brought that asshole, the one that'd upset him into cursing, into the kitchen and introduced us. I knew already — even before Monika mentioned that this Bradley was his ex — that I didn't like him. He just looked like a cocky bastard, like that Summit Bailey who graduated from Sanctuary Gardens, an elite private school and apparently that meant he was better than everyone else in the class. Well, I'll tell you something. He switched out that class that we'd had together for something else because he couldn't handle it. Not that it's hard or anything, but I guess blondie just wasn't smart enough. Summit Bailey couldn't handle the heat of astronomy. Then again, I don't know if it matters but a few years later I'd be forced out of a class I'd registered for almost six months in advance, dropped out of school and decided to manage the career of a teenage singing sensation in the States. Don't ask why my life goes in that direction. It just does.

Bradley's comment kind of stunned me, the one about sleeping with Monika. It stunned me to the point where I didn't even want to look at that poor innocent thing that used to be someone I knew. I thought I knew him, but I was seriously questioning that now. Slowly, I turned to stare at Monika, looking him up and down and trying to figure out how any of this was even possible. Yeah I was still going to beat Bradley to a pulp, but first I had to think. Tiny little Monika, my homosexual friend.... If I thought about it, he was probably on the bottom, and that meant things that made me stand up and move over next to him.

"Yes, Monika is my best friend, but that doesn't mean anything." I would've wrapped an arm around him to keep him close, but that was... and with those thoughts... I.... Woah. Why the fuck was I thinking about that kind of stuff? Augh. No. Bad Magnus. I'm not gay. I'm not. But still, I had to think of one of the amazing comebacks that I always used to be able to come up with. So, I just said the first thing that came to mind. "I could sleep with him if I wanted to."

I tried not to show the devistation that I felt as I realized what I'd just said.

Why?

Why the fuck do things like this only happen to me?

I'm not gay.

I'm not.

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I hate Sen’s mom. Hate her, despise her, loathe her – woah too far. Okay, so maybe I’m exaggerating a little bit but as arms wrapped around my shoulders I couldn’t help but think of how I’d made a fool of myself. Her uncharacteristic kindness made me want to flinch and her words made me want to hit her. How could she? How dare she? Obviously she knows I have a broken brain to mouth filter because I couldn’t hide that fact if I wanted to but for her to exploit it? Seriously?! She must be more sadistic than I thought. She’s Russian Viena, she’s Russian. So what? I have a Russian mom and she is the nicest woman I have ever met; nicer even then Monika’s mother. Being Russian is no excuse for being a bitch. That was what she did make me think. She was being a bitch by asking a question like that and then saying that it was just a joke. Come on! I mean, really. When you ask a question like that I feel like I have to answer and when I answer I’m going to say whatever my brain wants me to because I have no control over that. I will pour out my psyche to anyone who asks the right questions – okay not anyone because I have more sense than that but the point is!

The point is what it is and you’ll suck on it and deal with it. Fuck off. No don’t. You get it.

I watched Sen run off and ignored the race statement because it didn’t really matter if he got more pelmeni than me. I’m not really hungry. I’m too busy feeding off my own anger and frustration and long after I heard Sen hit the main floor I got up off the bed and decided to follow after him. Slowly though, not in any specific rush to go anywhere in particular because I had no where in particular to go. Sure there was pelmeni and a family and Sen but I didn’t feel like I had to do anything to get there except walk and I don’t want to go any faster. A part of me wanted to call Monika and tell him but he didn’t deserve to find out that way and another part actually want to go over there and tell him but I had a feeling he might have a friend over or was busy putting the kids to sleep. Plus I didn’t think I was exactly ready to tell him even though all of me said I was. Then again most of me wanted to get downstairs and shove as much pelmeni into my mouth as I could but my stomach said it would only take as much as it wanted not as much as I wanted. Which pissed me off because I would not let my stomach rule my mind.

Then it grumbled in a sickly kind of way and I sighed. Okay, maybe it would.

Once I hit the main floor I made my way to the dining room where we always ate when I came over even though I felt it was too fancy of a location for someone like me. The whole time I was combing my hands through my hair to try and smooth out whatever his mother had ruined even though I knew there was no use – my hair always fights against me. Which is why I know there’s a kick at the side of my head and sticks out and up like a little curl. A cow lick, that’s what it’s called. When my hair is messed up I get a cowlick on the side of my above my ear. It annoys me because whenever people I know see it they get this urge to pull on it; Monika and Niko at the top of the list. I don’t get it.

“Ah! Viena, you have that thing at the side of your head! Heh, it’s so cute.”

“Stop tugging on it would you Monika? It’s uncomfortable.”

“Oh, sorry. I just
. I couldn’t help it. I had to.”

“That’s fine but really. You don’t need to play with my ugly cowlick.”


I dropped down into one of the seats that sat against the lengthwise side of the table and dropped my head onto the surface. I’m tired, I’m slightly hungry and I’m still annoyed. Life couldn’t be any better.

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I didn't hear him right away and I wondered if something was wrong, turing to look over my shoulder as I ran into the living room. It was probably a bad idea, because I ended up tripping over the rug and apologizing to the floor. It might have been a good thing — the rug had slowed me down and put me back in my right state of mind, though my knees hurt a little and I heard Mom yell from the kitchen that I was nineteen years old and I knew better than to run in the house. It was true, and so I just hung my head, walking into the dining room and sitting in the usual seat of mine as I waited for Viena. He wasn't far behind me, taking a seat next to mine in silence, dropping his head to the table, which made me a little uncomfortable, like someone had said something inappropriate at a party and everyone else had shut up at that exact moment. That kind of uncomfortable, you know? I wanted to reach over for his hand, just because I could now, but as I turned to him, Len walked into the room, pulled out her chair across from me and stared hard, probably waiting for something to happen. I wasn't sure what she was expecting, but whatever it was I could be certain that she was hoping it wasn't clean, and I really don't want to get into why she was probably most certainly waiting for me to do something dirty — all I can say is that it involves a diary and an ex-boyfriend. That's all you need to know.... Enough of this subject... it's embarrassing to talk about so, we can just... move on, right? Yes? Right. Alena raised her eyebrows when she noticed me staring at her and then slowly grinned, like something was funny. She pulled her feet up onto the chair next to her, crossing her arms over her chest, that smug look taunting me from across the table. It made my chest tighten, and I felt like I'd already lost whatever it was that she was challenging me to. Finally, she leaned forward, resting her arms on the table and looking a little more closely at us. It was completely silent, except for Mom and Dad talking in the kitchen, and Feliks whining because he wanted to watch cartoons in stead of eat dinner with the family.

"You should move your chairs closer; you look so detattched from eachother."

I didn't look away from her, but I knew that my nose was beginning to turn red, which would spread into a burn across my cheeks and into my hairs to heat my ears, because that's always the way it goes when I blush. Yes, there are stages of my blushing, depending on the severity of the situation, a Category Two being just my nose (usually meaning minor frustration or embarrassment) and a Category Six being my whole face and chest (if you can't figure out the sorts of things that would cause this... I'm ashamed of you). If you must know, a Category One is basically slight heating, but barely any colour, and it usually escalates into a Category Two sooner or later. The point is that I wasn't sure whether I was embarrassed or frustrated, but after a minute, her phone buzzed and distracted her. I took the oppertunity to check on Viena, noticing a cowlick on the side of his head and reached over out of instinct to smooth it down. I found that it was kind of a stubborn little thing, and I hate to say it but it actually pissed me off. I had to keep telling myself that it was part of Viena's head, or I might've ripped it out. In stead, I put my hands down in my lap and leaned my head down on the table to watch him, completely giving up. Now, while I could still hear Len's furious thumb action across the table, I reached over for one of his hands and stared. I wanted to ask him if he was okay, if he was having second thoughts or something (though really, if he were, putting his head down on the table in stead of just talking to me about it was a very immature way to deal with his feelings) and I couldn't help but feel a little hurt for him. I could hear him close to me, loud and clear, with my Melody being ignored as much as possible while the repeating song was drilled further and further into my mind. I listened hard to the harmony, waiting for an imperfection, but before I could get halfway through the loops, Dad walked in and told us to get our heads off the table so he could set it. It wasn't a request either; I sat up straight, let him set the table and waited for him to leave, telling Len that she wasn't allowed to use her phone at the dinner table, to which she replied with quite a bit of foul languaged protests, and ended it with the sound of her phone shutting off. She got up to go get Feliks, leaving just the two of us in the dining room together.

"Hey, Viena? Are you alright?" It didn't really occur to me that it was something my mother had done. Really, I understood that it was her idea of a joke, and maybe she's a little insensitive, but she can't help that she was raised with very straight-laced, no-nonsense parents. It really isn't her fault. I thought that he might be sick because we were out in the cold for so long, and he doesn't withstand winter the way I do. It was also a possibility that the last ten minutes had given him a chance to think about us, and maybe he was second guessing. I didn't want to say anything about the sinking in my chest that was anchoring me to my chair, because I'd feel stupid if it had nothing to do with that. Besides, there's nothing more annoying than a paranoid boyfriend who thinks that they're always doing something wrong and constantly nags you about wanting to dump them, even if you don't. I couldn't be that annoying so early on. There was a chance that I might ask once within the time we spent together, but not now. The last thing I wanted was to encourage that kind of thinking by hinting that I may believe that his depressed demeanor had anything to do with our relationship. Our relationship.... Our relationship. To think that anything was ours — belonged to both of us together — made me shudder. And that was another one — together. I was both scared and excited by the idea that we shared something other than my shovel from fourteen years ago.

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I’m not going to say I’m disappointed with my choices because I’m not – I don’t regret the things I’ve done. Living in the past prevents me from living my present so why would I even bother to think twice about something that happened a year ago, a month ago, a day ago, an hour ago, a minutes ago; I don’t even bother with a second ago. But I can’t say that I’m not pissed at myself for having to have Magnus find out about it this way. I wasn’t planning to tell him obviously because what I do with my life and my body is my business but it isn’t like I wouldn’t tell him eventually. I’d originally planned on telling him if he ever asked – like I did with Viena. Not that I outright told him I did it but rather I explained in such a way that it could be implied; plus he did walk in that one time so I assume by this point he’s figured it out. No wait, I did tell him about my first time; how’d I forget that? But Magnus? I didn’t want Magnus to know just yet for many reasons. One, he would probably see me differently now; two, nothing would be the same anymore now that he did know and three he probably thought me to be completely innocent. I’m not, I’ll admit that.

But did he have to make it worse by saying what he just did?

If my face wasn’t red before it was burning by the time my brain had registered what he said. Magnus
. My very straight, very manly, very not gay best friend just said something that makes my whole head spin. I know that it was just to spite Bradley but God knows that what he said had to mean something right? Someone doesn’t just say that for spite and then
 no! Shut up Monika. Magnus doesn’t like you, he never will like you and he never has liked you in that way even for a second. He’s just being stupid. Like always. Remember that in some ways he’s just like Viena and he doesn’t think before he speaks. That’s all. That is all it will ever imply and if you dare make it worth more I’ll hurt you mentally.

“Oh? So the straight guy has some gay feelings does he? Tell me, are you so far in the closet that you’re going back in time?” I heard Bradley ask with this tone that implied he was smirking. I wanted to hit him. “But you’d never act on those feelings because it’s far too nice to be surrounded by the world of ignorant bliss. You’re missing out you know. With all the other men he’s slept with he was bound to be as good as he was.” I felt my shoulders go stiff and I wanted to defend myself but I couldn’t even think of lifting my head to speak. As untrue as it was I didn’t want to make it any move to make it seem like I was trying to build up some defence but at the same time just letting it sit was making it worse. I just wanted to become desensitized to the whole thing and pretend that none of this was happening.

“So like
. What was it like?”

“What?”

“You know
. You told me that you and that guy slept together.”

“Oh? Oh! Oh yes. It was
. Weird. It hurts at first but after a while you forget that and it feels good. Especially when it’s with someone you love. People make sex seem like something that makes it up but in my mind it only added to what was there. The physical aspect only happened because the mood was there and neither of us were about to cut halfway through because it wasn’t planned for.”

“You didn’t plan for it? So where exactly did this happen?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Yes it does Monika. Where did this happen?”

“Remember a few nights ago when it was storming outside?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Well
. That clearing in the woods I showed you a few months ago. We did it there.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No. We got caught in the rain and with the lightning and everything it just seemed so appealing and
. It wasn’t too bad and the grass was soft and it smelled like rain and pine which was lovely.”

“I don’t know you anymore Monika.”

“You never did Viena.”


But that was Viena and this is now and I’m going to cry if something doesn’t happen soon. “You should hear-”

“Shut up!” I wouldn’t look up. I refused to look up. “If all you have to talk about Bradley is how much of a whore I am then I’m going to ask you to leave before I phone the cops. I’m not joking either. Get the fuck out of my house right fucking now!” I added as I finally managed to lift my head and glare at him. I didn’t care what happened to him anymore. Whatever he got he deserved.

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I considered making some big speech about best friends have more benefits, but I thought better of it. Instead, I stood stock-still, trying to ignore the fact that I was starving and the clock was telling me that it was almost five thirty, meaning that my shift at the bar that night started in three and a half hours. That shift was a nine 'til five, which meant that I'd need to get home as quickly as possible (the bar closes at two, and yes, it does take three hours to clean the mess, and that's with the help of another bartender and four waitresses) which is really easy at five in the morning. I'd make it home just at five twenty-five, and sleep until ten (which is only four hours and thirty-five minutes of sleep) when I needed to get up to get ready for school, where my first class started at noon. Then again, I realized that I had been volentold to babysit Neve without my parents even asking if I had to work tonight; it wasn't too bad because I was sure that Monika wouldn't mind babysitting for me, and then I could just crash on his couch after work. Or... I could take Neve to work with me and sell him to the crazy drunks that are probably into that kind of thing.... No. Bad idea. I'd just leave him with Monika. No problem. Then again, crashing at Monika's after my shift also meant that I had to be up ten minutes earlier, which is ten minutes of sleep that I don't get, and would have to make up for out of homework time.... Any way I looked at this, it was just a big mess of me not getting enough sleep. Not that it mattered, because I'd deal with it when the time came. This — this right here — this was not the time. Still, it was going to suck balls to lose that ten minutes.

I listened to Bradley kind of vaguely for a moment, trying not to care about his taunting. I knew that if I listened intently and if I allowed myself to read into it, I was probably going to drown him in Monika's soup. No. That was too good a way for him to go. Ah. I'd bury him alive somewhere after knocking him out on a sidetable or something so that he could wake up dead. Of course, that's an oxymoron because it's physically impossible to wake up dead seeing as once you're dead you can't wake up and if you've woken up you're not dead. Did anyone else just suffer massive brain damage reading that? Okay, I'm not alone. Good. Thumbs up. So, I stood there and fumed for a minute, waiting for something to happen because I couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't A: make me look like a total ass, or B: embarrass me even further. I mean, I could've just gone with my first instinct and beat his head in, but the assult charges I'd suffer didn't look pretty on the neon pink paper of my mind. Neon pink. Like that fucking carpet. Speaking of fucking, I heard that exact word slip more deliberately than slipping normally allows from Monika's lips and I turned to look at him — whether it was in shock or awe, I was uncertain. Shock and awe. Shock... and awe.... Shock and— what the fuck am I doing? Nevermind. Whatever. The point is that I took a moment to register what Monika had said and then I frowned.

I wanted to slap him in stead.

"You're not a whore." What a stupid word, whore. I hate everything about it. Especially that silent 'w' at the biginning. It made me want to stab something. More than that, I couldn't believe that Monika would refer to himself that way. Okay, so what if he was sleeping with other guys. He wasn't the kind of person to be in a relationship with one guy and screw around with other guys at the same time, and he most certainly didn't sell his body on street corners. He had more dignity than that. I looked back at Bradley, and it kind of dawned on me that this asshole was making Monika feel like a whore, and that — when you're dealing with me — is a big mistake. I didn't even realize that I had stepped around the table, but I was suddenly standing right in front of him. It was probably a good thing that I wasn't attracted to men, or it would have made this so much more difficult. Ignoring the flashing assult charges behind my eyes, I balled my hands into fists. "You have three seconds to leave," I warned before raising my arm and counting. "One. Three." Yes. I skipped two. Only bad-asses skip two. I felt bad-ass. Even more so when my fist connected with his face.

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I didn’t notice that Magnus was going to hit Bradley until I heard the painful smack of skin on skin and saw my ex stumble over to the side holding the side of his face. Suddenly all want to see him get hurt dissolved and ran over to Magnus and grabbed onto his arm and I didn’t even know what I was saying but I knew I was muttering different versions of ‘stop’ in Latvian. Not like he could understand but I’m pretty sure he got that I didn’t want him to continue with hurting Bradley anymore. It wasn’t even for Bradley’s sake that I was doing it. It was for Magnus’ because I won’t be able to stomach him being carried out of here in handcuffs and having to speak to him in a dirty phone through Plexiglas. My heart would crack in so many places I wouldn’t be able to set foot in the prison knowing that it was my fault he was there in the first place. “Stop! Stop don’t hurt him. Please, just let him go,” I finally managed to say in English as I stood there clinging onto the arm Magnus had used to punch Bradley. If I let him go any further I’m sure it wouldn’t be just assault charges laid against him – I don’t doubt Magnus is capable of killing someone. Well, I don’t doubt anyone is capable because we all are I just don’t doubt that he would do it. If I can prevent that from happening then I want to because I can’t live properly unless he’s by my side because he means everything to me. No, I can’t live at all without him. Not like I’m going to die or anything but I can hardly call what I’d do after living – more like existing.

I’d never admit it to anyone but there was a point in time when even Xavier; the only relationship love of my life; told me that I wasn’t meant to be with him. When I’d inquired as to why he told me that I was so blindly in love with my best friend that not even I could see it. But I can assure you that if I was in love with Magnus I would know because you just know things like this. Unless you’re Viena in which case you’re so blind to yourself that you believe whatever you want and in most cases it’s so wrong even I feel bad for him. But I’m sure one day he’ll see. That isn’t the point. What I’m saying is there was a time when the person I was dating said that we shouldn’t be dating because I was supposed to be with my best friend. Obviously I changed his mind at some point or we wouldn’t have lasted as long as we did but it was there and for about a month after he said it I spent all my time actually thinking about it. In the end I knew that it would never work out between Magnus and I because of obvious reasons and of more subtle reasons if the obvious were not there. I can’t tell you them but just know that they are there and they remain. Like in [u]Happy Feet[/i]. “We remain.” Why did I let Aija watch that? Because it is true Emperor penguins sing to attract mates and I thought it was so damn cute it was unfair to not let them see it.

Moving on.

“Bradley, get out. Please. We can talk later when you aren’t going to be such dick to me and my friends.”

“Fine.” I let go of Magnus and sent him a warning glare before I followed Bradley out of the kitchen and to the front door. The sound of Niko laughing the loudest thing in my ears and I wondered what he and Neve were doing to get him to laugh so much. Didn’t matter. “Your friends are fucking insane. How do you deal with him?” he asked as he got on the shoes I didn’t notice he had taken off.

“He’s been in my life so long his insanity is part of his charm. I wouldn’t like him as much if he were bland.” I shrugged and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear as he stood up. “I’ll call you later. I’m still very much pissed off but I’ll listen to what you have to say,” I said calmly as I reached past him to open the door.

I felt Bradley run his hand through my hair. This was why I bothered staying with him as long as I did, because he is undeniably sweet when the time comes for it. “I’m sorry. I really am; I don’t know what I was thinking. Bye.”

“Bye.” I shut the door behind him when he left and sighed. The chances of me calling him were insanely high and the chances of it ending badly were off the charts. It would be the last time too; I can guarantee that. I ran my hands through my hair a few times before I went back into the kitchen, not really paying much attention to where Magnus was and picked up the plate of piragi I’d taken out for him. They felt colder than before and so I put them back into the oven before I portioned out some soup to put in the microwave. In the end they’d both be at an edible temperature and I’d be free of this whole travesty. Then, tomorrow I’d call Bradley, hear him out, refuse to have anything to do with him anymore and move on.

Life was that simple.

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:m a g n u s:

I hadn't punched anyone in so long that I felt my whole body warm and tingle madly, rushing with adreniline when it occurred to me that my fist had connected with his face. I felt absolutely on top of the world, and reeled back for another one to see if I could get the dying rush to return when something heavy gripped onto my arm. I looked down at Monika, a little disappointed, and dropped my arm to my side when I realized how hurt he looked that I'd punched this asshole. Sometimes I didn't understand Monika and his kindness, but then again I didn't understand alot of people and the way they were. It just didn't make sense. What had happened in Bradley's life, for example, to make him want to inflict emotional pain on the only person in the world that could ever have heart enough to care for a dickwad like him? That. That just doesn't even come close to being logical to me. I learned as a child that I should keep those who loved me close, because over time they might be all I had left. I didn't really believe it at first, because please remember my luck never used to be so tragic and possibly fatal; but eventually there did come a time where all I had was my family and Monika. For all the times that I'd cursed Monika, put him down, pushed him around, he stuck with me throughout. Why? Once upon a time in a playground far away, I'd treated him like the dirt I walked on — in that sense I might even admit to having been his Bradley-of-the-past, just much less sexual. What I mean is that... something turned around in me, and even though I acted the way I did toward him, it was mostly because I was too embarrassed to admit that I actually cared for him, even though everyone knew it. I protected him, and you don't just protect something if it's worthless — you protect something because it means something to you. Even still, and more so now, I'm embarrassed to admit that I care for him, and it's not so much that I'm embarrassed by him, but that I'm afraid of what might happen. The point is that Hell yeah I keep Monika close to me, and I'd do anything for him. If Monika suddenly decided that he wanted me to douse myself in gasoline and light myself on fire while he watched because he was somesort of pyrophiliac or something, I'd fucking do it. I might hesitate a little and question his request, but I'd do it.

That had nothing to do with punching Bradley in the face....

I went and sat down when Monika escorted that jerk out of the room and rubbed my right hand where flesh had connected with flesh. My whole hand was sore, a dull throb, but my wrist was worse off. I suppose, having not hit anyone since elementary school, I had gotten a little rusty, but I'd nearly sent Bradley off his feet, so I wasn't going to complain about my right hook being any worse than it used to be. My wrist hadn't absorbed the shock right, was all, and I'd get over it. Still, I rubbed my wrist, not that it helped any, and watched for Monika's return. As soon as he reentered the room, I looked away. I don't know, I felt bad for punching Bradley like that now that I'd had calm down and think about it. It wasn't for Bradley's sake either. It was the thought of Monika clinging to me to keep me from beating his ex until he stopped breathing, muttering something in Latvian to me. My heart broke now to realize that I might have hurt Monika more than I'd hurt Bradley and I looked back up at the clock. I was slow eating, slower than normal because I like to savour his food in stead of inhaling it like everything else is going to disintegrate, and silent. I wanted to tell him how good it was, and how I wished I could just move in with him so that I could eat his cooking everyday, but that was something I'd only tell myself. The latter part anyway. I'm sure he's well aware that I'm in love with his cooking ability. I would remove it from his body and marry it were it possible, but it's not so that thought was pointless. Eventually, I'd nibbled my way through the piragi and was beginning to work on the soup when something struck me and I looked up at him. By that, I mean that it'd suddenly dawned on me how much pain I was actually in and I held up my hand. "Hey, Monika... I think I broke something on his face. Like, a knuckle or something. Can you look at it for me?" It probably wasn't what he wanted to hear, and maybe I shouldn't have said anything about it. Knowing Monika, if he were upset he probably wouldn't let me know it... unless I'd really pushed it, and then I was scared of what kind of fury he might unleash upon me that I had no prior knowledge of. Ahh, who the fuck am I kidding? He was still the same sweet, innocent, loving Monika Grava, mother of four even if he wasn't a woman and had no children of his own, and best friend to straight guy Magnus Villiers. He hadn't changed. He'd always been this way and I just hadn't noticed. I hoped that he didn't expect me to think differently of him just because he had a temper and a sex drive like every other human being, because that was idiotic and when had he ever known me to be idiotic?

Exactly. Part of being with someone forever is knowing them and part of knowing them is learning. Part of learning is making mistakes and part of making mistakes is being human.

I have no idea where I was going with that, but it sounded pretty so whatever.

I waited for a moment, holding my breath before I could look at him again. I wasn't even looking at his face. I was watching his hands. "Monika, I need to tell you something... and it might sound a little strange at first, but just... hear me out, okay?"

I wanted him to tell me to shut up, to go get my brother, and get the fuck out of his house. That he didn't want to hear it... because honestly, I didn't want to say it.

"For the longest time, at least since we met, I've treated you like shit. But I just want you to know that you...."

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:|: m o n i k a :|:


I’d served Magnus is dinner and took a seat next to him as he ate no feeling in me whatsoever to bring up what had just happened. Bradley was gone, the kids were having fun and I had a paper due on ‘How to Resolve Early Childhood Disobedience’ in two days time to my professor. It had to be in by ten in the morning and I had to drop the kids at school for eight which meant I had to be up by six forty-five so that I could get their lunches together and get them dressed. Niko goes to PM kindergarten which means that Kalle picks him up on his way home with Aija and Raimonds. During that day I’ll have to work on the homework I have for my other classes and make a video conference call to Professor Titan who teaches me teacher’s course because I have aspirations to become a teacher and I know it’ll have something to do with kids. I just don’t know what level I want to teach at just yet which is why I’m taking two at the same time – high school and University/College. In any case my whole Wednesday is planned and I due follow schedule so I will most likely be very busy that day. Busy enough that if Viena does end up coming home; which I believe he will because I heard Royce is coming over; I won’t have enough time to talk to him unless he really needs it. In which case I have all the time in the world for him between eleven AM and two-thirty PM. Any time before or after will not be spared for him until five forty-five which is when I start making dinner. Magnus is invited if he wishes to be. He knows that.

At least I’d like to believe he knows that else I wouldn’t have given him the house key but that’s a whole different story.

I looked up from the table when Magnus mentioned something about his hand and I went from not wanting to care about the punch at all to panicking that he had actually hurt himself. I instantly jumped out of my chair and walked over to his side and took his hand gently in mine so that I could examine it better. I traced my fingers over each knuckle and sure enough I found the middle one feeling like it wasn’t sitting right and it was more swollen than his other knuckles. I didn’t know what I was going to do for it but I knew I needed ice because ice would quell the swelling and I could bandage it until we could get him to a doctor. The closest one was about twenty minutes away but that would mean piling all the kids into the car and driving there right this second and the headache of that is already pounding against my temples. For now I hoped he’d be able to manage with bandage holding his hand in shape and he wouldn’t be allowed to go to work and if I had to strap him down I’d do it. That
. That does not sound the way I want it to but if you took it there you’re dirty. You are very dirty minded person and I am so ashamed of you. I’m shaking my head at you. I am. In my mind. My internal head is shaking inside of my real head because my real head has to stay still for me to examine this broken knuckle and I was doing a good job until Magnus started speaking again.

Blood rushed to my ears and I was glad my hair was long enough to cover them because Magnus knows I get easily embarrassed. I don’t like when he says things like what he’s saying because honestly I don’t like when he forces himself to say things he doesn’t want to say. I’ve always wanted to tell him that he has no reason to tell me anything he doesn’t want to because I already know. I know about all the times in school that he beat up kids and didn’t tell me and after a while one does learn to put two and two together.

Two and two equals four and Magnus treating me like and object plus protecting me behind my back equals some form of caring. I don’t need him to say it. I don’t want him to say it. I can’t let him say it because if he does all of this will suddenly mean a lot more than it ever did.

By the time he finished saying that he treated me like shit my whole face was red. I don’t know when I did it but I covered his mouth with my hand and shook my head. “No. Nonononono. No. You won’t finish that sentence because you need to go to a doctor because your knuckle is broken. Got it?” I stated before I hesitantly pulled my hand away and smiled. “Now. You need ice for that; to stop the swelling.” With that I headed over to the fridge. There was no way I’d let him say it – no way in hell.

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:m a g n u s:

His hand on my mouth shocked me a little bit, and the words instantly caught in my throat. Silently I thanked him, but I also really wanted to bite him. Besides that, it didn't occur to me until years later, but he probably used that hand to.... I mean, not recently, no. He had been home with the kids, and I know that Monika would never do anything like that while they were around... or at least while they were awake.... I don't know, I just didn't. I looked at him, and he was still himself, but he was... different. It was an uncomfortable feeling, and then again it was a sort of pride in accomplishment. I had known Monika for years, so I felt that I had influenced him in a way whether it be positively or negatively. Actually, we were bound to rub off on eachother somehow, and bad habits stick easier than good ones. I wonder what he'd picked up from me.... I know that I'd learned to be a little more accepting of people, and that I'd realized that fantasy was just fantasy and that it no longer appealled to me. If it didn't make any logical sense then it was difficult for me to get along with it, and I think I earned that by watching endless hours of National Geographic and Discovery Channel DVDs with him and his siblings. I actually remember walking in while they were watching Happy Feet and staring at the screen for a minute before telling them, and I quote, "This is stupid. Everyone knows penguins don't dance. They don't talk, either. And they don't sing Boogie Wonderland with carefully planned choreography or give their chicks Human names. Besides all that, Mumble is a retarded name for a penguin." I cannot even begin to explain to you what happened after that. Monika thinks it's a cute movie and that it's actually quite accurate; but I think that I'll actually be able to enjoy it if you go out and find me a penguin with a Spanish accent named Ramone. Then I will be happy.

Monika's reaction was so typically Monika that I actually sighed in relief. He took my hand to examine it before he declared that I had to see a doctor. But... with today's waiting lines... we could be there for hours, and then I'd miss work and I'd lose my job and I'd end up living on the streets (because God knows I refuse to move back in with my parents) and I wouldn't have enough money to support myself so I'd have to get a job as a maid in that house across the street with the big brick wall around it and the Ferrari in the driveway! Hyper-ventilation! Wow.... Breathe. Calm down.... At least I knew now that I'd broken my knuckle; it felt good to know that I'd done it on someone's face, too. "I can't go see a doctor now, Monika; I have a bar to tend in, like, three hours. Work comes before broken hands." I don't know if that logic made sense, and I could imagine my father agreeing with me readily that I had an obligation to my job. Then I could see my mother getting upset because I wouldn't let her tape on a finger splint because that meant that when I actually went to the hospital, they'd have to pull the tape off, which would move my finger around too much and then I'd be in pain. Seriously, though, don't tell Maman she can't do something because that just makes her want to do it all the more. It's kind of annoying, and I know there's a reason why I love her... I just don't know what it is. Just because she's my Maman doesn't mean I'm entitled to love her, you know.

Icing my knuckle was probably a good idea, even if I felt my hand go numb while I finished my soup off one-handedly. Even if my accomplishment made me feel good about myself, it didn't mean that I had to be happy about the situation. Part of me knew that if I tried to get up and leave, Monika would do everything in his power to bring me back so that I didn't end up hurting myself even more. Serious, who the fuck breaks their knuckle on someone else's face? How often does that actually happen? I didn't even punch him that hard, which meant that it was merely my dumb-ass luck acting up on me again. Nothing to worry about. I'd come to expect that I could never expect where it would strike next, and that if it didn't happen for a few days I was liable to break something — this right here was living, breathing (but not really, because broken fingers neither live nor breathe, though one could argue that, unless the finger is completely removed, it's still part of your body in which case it is, in every technicality, alive) proof of that. I couldn't help but stare at my hand, not wanting to look at Monika at all, listening to time tick away slowly. When I'd finished my soup, I rose to collect my dishes and deposit them in the sink to be rinsed, realized that my hand was really as broken as I thought it was, and dropped the bowl out of instinct. "Ah!" Now I looked up at Monika because I was pretty sure he was going to try to do something, and pulled my hand close to me. "It doesn't hurt," I protested weakly, gathering the bowl on top of the plate and carrying them both in one hand. I was cautious, though I attempted to hide it, because I was pretty sure that there was a good chance that I might actually drop something on the floor and have on of the pieces rebound just to lodge into my knee or manage by some freak feat of nature to sever my Achilles Tendon or something stupid like that. Yeah, it wasn't completely impossible considering the neon pink strip club carpet in my living room....

Now, staring out the closest window and into the dark of night, I did that thing I do because I'm stupid and don't pay attention to myself. Also, I sometimes have involentary muscle spasms, but that's just an excuse I made up to cover for my doing of stupid things. Abesnt-mindedly, I reached up and felt the swollen knuckle, halfways wondering where my ice had wandered off to. I poked at it gently, feeling a delicate sting, and then pressed down on it a little harder; the pain intensified in a small jolt. At that point, I ran my finger over it, feeling definite bone-on-bone contact and wincing at the sound I imagined — like nails on a chalkboard. I looked down to watch it in curiousity, which was a bad idea; it was definitely broken and with the adreniline having disappeared completely, it burned. It wasn't even the pleasant kind of burn either, the kind that any man who plans on bottoming will have need to experience (yeah I went there); it was the burning kind of burning, like pressing your whole hand to a stove element. The kind of burning that makes you jump up, yelp, and then shake your hand like it's going to help. Luckily I saved myself from shaking my hand around wildly, which definitely would have made it worse, and decided that for once in my life I had to admit that I was wrong.

"Okay. Fucking ow. Just let me call Seth to tell him that I'm not coming in tonight so that he can scramble around looking for a replacement for the next two and a half hours." I looked up at the clock, then back at Monika, and very slowly offered my hand to him. "Hold this. Make sure I don't do anything too retarded, okay?"