Rich Man

It will suffice to say that by now, you should at least start to understand my thinking. Maybe I should apologize for the complexities that power my mind and actions, but at the same time, I cannot feel shame for what I am. That being said, I request that you open your mind to the possibilities I have been steadily calculating ever since I came to my grand realization of Lex’s true feelings.

First of all, I must question Lex’s motives. No longer am I able to use her as an accurate in to this group of individuals. The information she could give me may be tainted with her emotional decisions rather than rationally thought-out fact-based opinions and theories. For all I know, she could have been feeding me lies for the sake of creating closeness with Blake.

Lucky for me, I began this project, as I do with all others, from the ground-up.

By “ground”, I mean to reference the likes of Milan Lucic and Patrice Bergeron. It was a very simple, plain-to-see decision to start out with the two as soon as I first heard about their past scrums with one another over the petty female toys they once almost had to share. I knew from the moment that I saw Bergeron that I would have to change him, and happily so.

As calculated as I was, I knew that human emotion had a tendency to be the bane of my existence. Emotion was the reason why I even had fear involved in my “job”. Hell, emotion was the reason I could even do what I do in the first place. What I was most aware of was the idea that, when dealing with a situation that potentially disrupts more than just its immediate victims, emotions clashing could tear everything apart no matter whom they belonged to. If either of the two boys were to have any sort of trying disagreement again, I knew they might just complicate things for me even more than they already were going to. That was something I chose to deal with head-on before anything bad could happen.

My basic idea was that everyone in the group was like a pillar holding up one single roof. While the roof symbolized harmony and all that, each pillar would have to put out all of its strength and effort in order to keep the thing level and steady. Well, if one collapses for whatever reason, this particular roof with come crashing down and take all of the other pillars with it. The rebuilding of such a strong friendship would be virtually impossible.

The two pillars I was most worried about were Milan and Patrice, savvy?

“Damn my thinking is starting to shift again,” I murmured to myself, reviewing every page of my journal from day one. And that was the truth. At first I saw clear signs of overconfidence, then doubt, and now I was at a steady equilibrium. This odd shift in confidence had me on edge and with good reason. If I was to succeed, consistency was crucial. “Doubt I’ll have at it, though.”

“What was that?” Lex asked, stepping out of the bathroom with her hair in a towel and her body dawned in what I actually found to be a rather cute towel-type dress thing. It was a simple right-out-of-the-shower dress made out of soft-looking towel material that had thin straps and a length of about lower thigh coated. Lex sashayed about in it for a brief second before grabbing the clothes off her bed and retreating back to the bathroom to change.

Of the three of us, I was the first up and ready for the day. Then again, I hadn’t actually slept, so getting up basically consisted of a shower and more journal time.

Lex and Blake, Blake and Lex… I need to start gathering information, especially on Tera. Milan and Patrice will have to remain an uncertainty. I still don’t know for sure if they’re coming to terms with each other or not, but I can definitely say that they’ve grown closer.

“Oh, nothing,” I answered Lex with a tired grin and let out a loud yawn.

“So uh, what’s the story with you and Patrice again?” Avery laughed with a sick smile and tossed me what was apparently said man’s hoodie. I had hardly remembered it, but he made me wear it the previous night because I was getting cold during the movie even though I was half under the covers.

“We don’t hate each other?” I jokingly replied in a questioning tone then shrugged. “We’re just friends. Would you guys not question it? I mean, you’ll know if something absolutely heinous goes down and he and I somehow end up,” the word took me a moment’s hesitation to get out, “together.”

“Yeah but still,” Avery exclaimed, “You guys act really cute together. You can’t blame us for being curious about your status with Bergy. Oh, and Milan too. After the whole thing about him asking you out, I seriously thought there’d be drama today since I guess Patrice just crashed with him and Mark.”

“Was there?”

“Mark said none at all. No awkwardness or anything. He said they even might seem kind of happy!”

It was then that Lex began laughing from the bathroom. The sound of makeup tools hitting the tile counter-top sounded as she rocketed into the doorway with her eyes wide and fixed on mine. A knowing, mischievous, almost evil look happily graced her features. “They totally double-teamed you.”

My jaw dropped. Double-teamed? What the fuck? I have no idea what that means in respects to these people but no matter what way you spin it, ‘double-teamed’ is not a good thing to happen to the manipulator. “What exactly does that mean?”

This time Avery was the one laughing. “You really think so, Lex.” Said woman nodded gleefully in reply. “Double-teaming is what we call when two of our guy friends -doesn’t even matter who- help each other get the girl. Like, one guy will present himself as potential while the other guy just be’s himself. When the potential, no matter what he looks like, says or does something to push the girl away, Captain Genuine is in the background to swoop in and get the girl. Maybe for you things just kind of went sour?”

“Well yeah… And Patrice didn’t really do anything to try and play hero… Well, not since the club incident, anyway. I highly doubt I got double-teamed. At least I can be careful of it now, though.” I then stood, closing my journal and locking it carefully. After stashing it in my black and cream-colored Juicy tote, I readied my luggage for another day of travel. Lucky for us, we were able to be with the guys. Yes, we were going to be on a bus and for five straight hours, no less, but that part sounded amusing to me.

I had only ever been on a road trip once and that was only three and a half hours with a small group. Imagining either the extremes of hilarity and mild chaos or quiet and solemnity was exhilarating to me, new to the concept of travelling as a team rather than kids crammed in a car. The bus itself was barely able to seat the three of us. It was by pure luck that we had enough room to pack-in with them in the first place. We were even luckier that all of the guys, including the staff that hardly knew us, were willing to endure our company for such a long journey.

Milan was nice enough to leave his gear sitting in some seats near the rear of the bus in order to keep them reserved. I took the window so Lex could be seated in the aisle, right beside Blake.

Obviously, I’m not bringing this seating arrangement up because it had great feng shui.

“You look cold.”

I grunted at the change of seating partners and rolled my eyes from beneath the safe confines of Mark’s bright yellow Gongshow beanie. It was true that a shiver had rolled through me, but only because I was an idiot and had stowed my jacket under the bloody bus with everyone else’s crap. Straightening up from my position leaning against the window, I pulled off the beanie to give Patrice a sideways look. “How may I help you?”

The boy half smiled a snarky little smile and shook his head. “Nothing. Just came over to see if you wanted to share since Looch is hogging the other one.” He was referring to a thin travel-size black fleece blanket. “If you don’t want to though, I don’t-“

My hand jutted out, palm-up, and I wagged my fingers. “Fork over a corner and stop talking,” I replied quietly with a small smile of my own as he unfolded the thing. What I didn’t expect was his immediate shoving of the thing toward me. I had gone from being half-covered to completely engulfed in blanket within seconds. “What the hell? I thought you said ‘share’.”

Patrice shrugged, “I’m wearing a hoodie and the bus isn’t even that cold. You look like you need it more than I do.”

That’s a bold-faced lie and you know it.

A thin smile curved my pale lips into a crooked, twisted little half smile. “Right. When you end up freezing your ass off because everyone likes this thing feeling like an igloo, don’t come crying to me,” I whispered with an almost playful evil little smirk.

The boy’s eyes widened slightly and quickly narrowed into a gentle glare, his had swooping down and unfolding the blanket to give himself some length. After a moment of shuffling and awkwardness passed the two of us by, he whispered, “Thanks.”

“Thank you, kid,” was all mumbled before a massive yawn came on and disrupted just about any chance for thought I had. There was really no telling exactly how I felt about him as we sat side-by-side in the silence of the bus. While there was still some mild chatter all throughout the ride, the volume was rather quiet and cool. Occasionally someone would holler for a snack or two, but Patrice and I wouldn’t really pay attention. We were too busy making comments about the pictures I had on my iPod.

There’s a bit of a tradition I had held up for quite some time. For every assignment I had was a picture with the ones who I was to directly have influence on. He sifted through that unnamed file, through dozens upon dozens of cheery-looking photos. “You know,” he mentioned slowly, “It looks like you’ve got everybody in the States but all of us. We should take a picture.”

“Wanna take one right now?” I inquired without so much as batting an eyelash.

He ran a hand through his unruly hair. “Oh, what the hell? We both look like we just rolled off a bed. It’ll be perfect.”

Entering the camera mode on my phone, I held it at arm’s length away from both of us. He pulled me close; until I had hardly a choice but to drape my legs over his lap or turn completely. By that time, the smile on my face was irrevocable and his gentle, caring gaze in my direction was forever captured in a sweet picture. He opted for another, which I didn’t mind one bit. Before we knew it, we had taken four or five with our cheeks pressed together and big grins on our faces.

“You’re scruff is killing me. It’s like thousands of tiny warriors are stabbing me with flimsy rubber spears,” I pointed out, cheek planted firmly against his.

He chuckled deep and throaty, setting off the rapid pounding of my hart against my chest. There was something about making him smile, knowing that I could make him happy, and being in such close proximity to Patrice that made me almost not blame myself for having feelings for him. And while I would have liked to simply classify my feelings as natural human attachment or hormones, it was plain to see that maybe my scientifically oriented answers were bullshit.

“You can’t say it’s not sexy, though. I look like a hairless cat, shaved,” he replied without breaking his intense glare at the camera, to match my own.

At the mention of a feline, I brought my hand up in a clawing gesture for the next picture. “I actually think you look pretty sharp all cleanly shaven. I mean, I like both on you, anyway, so in the end I don’t really care all that much.” I sound like a blubbering idiot. Any chance this photo shoot could last forever with minimal conversation?

“Growl face in three,” I counted down, finger on the big silver button, “two, o-“ my words were cut short as I snapped the picture out of a scared impulse. Just as I was approaching the end of my countdown, Patrice’s lips had gently sailed across my cheek and to me ear, where he growled and nipped at my earlobe and nearly had me passing out.

To be honest, I was totally putty in his arms. My motor skills were probably that of a blind, deaf paraplegic cerebral palsy victim as he smiled into my skin and pressed a swift kiss just under my ear. What got me was the fact that he had me completely vulnerable for any kind of attack and yet all he did was pull me even closer. He then brought his face just beside mine and held up the camera, lips just barely brushing my ear, and whispered, “I’ll shave tomorrow morning.”