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"He really doesn't..." she began. "He'd rather hang out with his friends than me. It's not beyond him to completely blow me off when we've already planned something too. And it's always because of one of his friends or some stupid game he wants to go to or..." She stopped and apologized, "I shouldn't be venting."
"No, no it is fine," he a.s.sured her, "If you need to, go ahead and, as you said, vent."
She hesitated, but continued, "He's really a great guy, but he's always rude, to everyone, including you..." she paused, "And I know he's dealing with a lot now, but that's no excuse for him to be able to say whatever he wants."
"Although he has no right to say those things, you must remember, it should only be temporary. He could return to normal as soon as he is done dealing, as you said," he told her.
"Maybe not," she continued, "He's always been like this. I don't know why I put up with it," she sighed again but stopped herself from continuing. "Sorry..."
"You are a very good dancer," he told her as he changed the subject for her.
"Thanks, you dance well too."
"No I don't."
She smiled, "You dance beautifully."
"I believe that is supposed to be my line," he said as he took the lead from her, "But thank you Rachel."
"You're welcome." She looked into his eyes and quietly asked, "How do you like it here so far?" Her voice quieted, became calmer, and her eyes never moved from his and his gaze never left hers.
"It is very nice here, crowded and over paved, but nice nonetheless. I do still prefer my home over this, though."
"What's it like there?" asked Rachel as she inched closer to him.
"There are fewer towers there, or at the very least from where I am from," he explained. "The world is harsher though, colder, and it seemed hostile, though I do at times feel hostilities here as well."
"I'm sorry," Rachel frowned.
"I imagine hostility is everywhere, so I try to ignore it."
"That's good."
"I agree. Your world here is far greener than mine." He stopped for a moment and admitted, "My home is so vastly different than yours and I fear it would take me far too long to reveal everything to you."
She set her hands around his neck and Vladimir placed his hands around her waist. Rachel set her head on his shoulder and whispered, "I'd love to hear it all someday."
"Maybe you will," he said. "One of these days you and I should go out somewhere and simply get to know one another."
"I'd love to."
The song ended and he released her. Vladimir rubbed his eyes and apologized, "It is getting late and as such I believe I should find my host brother and leave. I thank you for the"
"Wait," she stopped him. "One more dance."
He blinked and failed to find the words he needed to. Vladimir agreed and the two waited for the next couple's song to begin on the opposite side of the room from where Jordan and Ian sat. She remained close by and kept his hand with hers.
Nick and Amy spent the majority of their time together in an attempt to have a conversation, though the ba.s.s, treble, and overall noise made that a challenge. They could talk easier during the slow songs though, which they utilized at every opportunity. Amy quickly realized that Nick wasn't much for dancing or much of a dancer for that matter, but still enjoyed his willingness to accompany her and stumble his way through the same simple slow dance each time.
Nick and Amy agreed to go on their date as a method to reduce their stress from the when they witnessed Crystal's murder, but he didn't feel much relief. He felt he needed to impress her, as such Nick tried to choose his words wisely, yet often regretted his actions or responses or questions. He felt she was judging him as to whether he was actually worthy of being there with her. Because of the additional stress, he felt that he needed a moment to simply breathe after four hours with her.
They sat with Drake, his newest find Hiromi, Coop, Wally, Ian, and an irritable Jordan. Nick told Amy he needed to use the restroom and left her there. As soon as he took a step into the bathroom he stopped, waited for the door to close behind him and buffer out most of the noise, and he listened closely to discern whether anyone else occupied the room. After a brief moment he felt he was alone and truly walked in.
The urinals and stalls stood on the left side of the room with a light stench of p.i.s.s emitting from the stained floor beneath the porcelain depositories. The sinks were on his right and when he pa.s.sed them he noticed soap stained the sides and the worn metal drains in each of them. Nick headed for the end of the room where a wooden bench was attached to the wall and claimed a seat there. He set his head in his hands, with his fingers in his hair, and let out a shaky sigh.
Not a second after he'd sat down the door opened, the music flooded in for a moment, and an Asian man in a navy dress shirt, black slacks, and a trench coat emerged. The man wore gloves, which he removed as he walked over to one of the sinks in the middle of the room. He set the gloves aside and washed both his hands and his face before he spoke, "Quite a party, right Nick?"
"What?"
"The party."
"N-No...Do w-we know each other?"
The j.a.panese man grinned as he dried his hands with a paper towel. "No, we don't." He slipped his gloves back on and asked, "Did you know that your brother was shot without so much as a word from his murderer?"
Nick felt all of the hair on his neck and arms stiffen. His heart beat harder, faster, and Nick even believed he could hear his pulse in his head. He watched the man take a seat on the wooden bench beside him and continue.
"And did you know that one of the seven living witnesses to the murder of Crystal Marie Valentine committed suicide only six days after she witnessed the murder?" Nick's eyes widened. "Tiffany Shapiro, born April seventeenth in twenty-thirteen, had suicidal thoughts all through junior high and previously made an attempt at her own life at the age of fifteen, a few months after she began slitting her own wrists. Her friend actually invited her out to lunch on the day of the accident to try to help her, as her friend knew about Tiffany's depression and tendencies. Tiffany killed herself yesterday Nick. She went into her mother's medicine cabinet and downed an entire bottle of painkillers as well as a sixteen year old bottle of vermouth."
"H-How do y-you know that?"
His eyes flashed and he answered Nick's next question before he asked it, "I'm not a stalker or the one who killed your brother, but I want to help you find the person responsible."
Nick frowned and asked, "How d-do I know y-you're n-not the k-killer?"
"You don't. But if I had killed your brother, I wouldn't come here to talk to you or offer you help to catch me," he explained. "And if I wanted to kill you, I would have done it by now, or rather, a long time before you walked into this place."
"Why do you w-w-want to help m-me?"
"Because I have a goal that I want accomplished and I believe you can help me," he told Nick. "I don't have the time to fill you in on the details now, but if you do agree to help, not only will I unveil my plans to you, but I'll help you catch the man who killed your brother."
Nick took a moment to think about the Asian man's offer, though the man asked if he knew that there was someone who had witnessed Victor's murder. Nick's eyes shot up, "Who was it?"
The Asian man smirked. "Go ask Ian."
Without another word, he left the bathroom and though Nick followed after him Nick lost the man in the crowd of partiers. Nevertheless he walked back to the table but didn't take his seat. Jordan, Wally, and Coop had all left by then, yet Drake, the girl he chatted with, Amy, and Ian all remained.
Ian looked at Nick, who stood with his eyes fixed on him and his hands balled into fists. Ian asked, "What's up Nick?"
He didn't hesitate, "Did y-you see my brother die?"
All four of them looked at Nick at that moment. Drake tried to say something but Nick angrily told him to stay out of it. "Did you Ian?" Nick repeated.
Ian shook a bit but admitted it.
Nick grit his teeth. "Wh-Why didn't you t-tell me?"
"Because he was in shock Nick," Drake told him.
"d.a.m.n it stay out of this!" he snapped at Drake. He turned back to Ian, "Who k-killed Victor?"
"Nick, I don't know. I wasn't thinking clearly"
"Wh-What did you see?"
Ian swore. Frustrated, he told him, "I saw you kill him."
Nick stopped. He felt a cold fear overtake him. He trembled and asked, "Wh-What do you m-mean I k-killed him?"
"Nick he wasn't sure what he saw."
"Nick what's going on?" Amy asked, "What are you talking about?"
"You think I k-killed my own brother?" Nick nearly whispered.
"No."
"B-But you said, you said I-I killed him." His pulse raced, "Why would y-you think I-I'd kill m-my brother?"
"I don't know."
"He didn't Nick."
"What're you all talking about? What's wrong?"
"Who was it?" Nick asked Ian.
"Nick! Leave it alone."
"What's going on?"
"I don't know who it was Nick."
"You said it was me!" he screamed.
The cry attracted a small amount of attention in the club, but Nick didn't look away for a second. He backed away from the table and headed for the door.
Amy stopped him though, "Nick, stop. What's going on?"
He apologized to her, "I-I have to get a-away from here." Tears flooded his eyes as he apologized again and ran out the front entrance and into the rain.
He didn't have any direction as he wandered through the rain soaked emerald city. Streetlamps bathed the city in an amber glow and through it, the rain, and his tears he tried to search for solace, truth, or anything with meaning. People pa.s.sed the crying boy on his left and right and never said a word.
Someone took him by the collar and pulled him into the nearest alleyway. It was the Asian man from before. "I gather you've"
"H-How did you know that?" Nick questioned him.
The man rolled his eyes, "How do you expect me to answer that Nick? Learning, gaining information someone hasn't told or has hardly told a soul?"
"How d-did you though?" he pressed onward.
He sighed, "Like I said earlier, I'm involved in a project I'd like you to join. If you do you'll find the answers you want and I'll even help you find the one who killed your brother."
Nick scowled at the man, "H-How are y-you going to do that?"
The man's eyes flashed. "You're right handed, born November thirteenth of twenty-eleven, have AB positive blood, you've had two major surgeries in your life which were the removal of your wisdom teeth on January tenth of twenty-twenty-eight and the replacement of your right eye at the age of three on December seventeenth of twenty-fourteen and is the result of why you're colorblind in only your left eye."
Nick recoiled from the man. "H-How do you kn-know all of that?"
Nick stared in awe of the man's knowledge. "H-How can you know a-all of that?"
The Asian man grinned, "I'll tell you if you agree to help me."
"I-I"
"You don't know what I'm talking about," the j.a.panese man finished for him. "Listen," he rubbed his eyes, "We don't have time to get into details at the moment. The short version is that you want to find your brother's killer and I can help, but I need you to help me first."
"H-Help you with what?"
"My project," the man told him. "I don't have time to tell you now and since there are still others who would like to know exactly what you want to know, I'd prefer to wait and answer your questions at a later date. Otherwise I'm going to repeat myself eight other times and I'd rather not waste my breath. Right now I need to know whether you'll agree to help me or not." Nick hesitated and the man barked, "Nick! Hurry up and make a decision. It's simple, you agree to help me and you'll be able to avenge your brother. Decline and you'll never hear from me again and you can solve his murder on your own."
Nick took a minute to agree, but did nonetheless.
The man smiled. "Good. Your school begins on the fourth of September, so we need to get to work quickly."
"Wh-What do you mean?"
"We're leaving for Washington DC and then India. We have a lot of work to take care of before then."
"What about"
"When we get back," the man interrupted. "I need to train you first; otherwise you'll be running into a fight blind, which you're not ready for yet."
"A-Alright, wh-when do we leave?"
The man retrieved two tickets from his pocket and skimmed through them, "In an hour and a half. Let's go."
"But I"
"Don't have clothes, money, food, a pa.s.sport, and you still want to call your girlfriend Amy who, by the way, is deeply infatuated with you." Nick was speechless so the man continued, "And don't worry about your stepfather," he said as he turned his back and started out of the alley, "I doubt he'll even notice you're gone." The man took out two pa.s.sports, airline tickets, and wallets and handed one set to Nick, "You're Isaac Jones now, please do the both of us a favor and remember that."
Nick looked at the identification and found his license photo on all of the fake doc.u.ments with minor adjustments to each one. All of his age, weight, eye color, and other necessary information was replicated or altered there on all doc.u.mentation.
"We need to leave now."
"Wh-Who are you?"