Chapter Five: There’s Jokers in The Deck

Gregorovich had made his point in subtle ways. We had many enemies and I either could choose to believe what people were telling me, or I could see for myself just who ‘the most evil man in modern history’ was. To say that I was conflicted was one thing. To say that I was panicking was another, because I was so far beyond that. I’d never been wone to have panic attacks outside of being lost without music, but even as I paced around my room and did every little thing I could think of to calm down, I had no success. Everything I composed sounded awful, everything I heard sounded like it was grating on my nerves, and I just couldn’t for the life of me get a grip. When my Aunt went through her bout with her mental health, she was a hot mess, and I was feeling much the same. I remembered her calling me a couple of times just to talk when I was in high school before she moved to the U.K. for some odd reason, and it seemed like a good time to follow in her footsteps and try my support network for a little peace of mind.

The first person I thought to call was Dustin, but it was too late in the day for him to be home, especially on a weekday. Dad was the second person I thought of, but I had no idea how to explain any of what was happening to him, so I chose the only other person I knew was into the shit before I hesitated to send my message. An ominous, foreboding feeling overtook me and I stayed my hand before I realized why I was feeling so tense: there was background music. Chilling, creepy, eerie background violins that made me wonder if I was well and truly going insane and if my multiple viewings of Shutter Island had been a signal of some sort. I was pretty much about to start bashing my head into a wall or solid object of any kind for a little peace of mind when I got pushed, throwing me off of my rut. In my haste and generally stressed state, I almost cocked back for a punch before I laid eyes on Marissa, then Shelly shortly after.

“La-La? You alright there, buddy?” Marissa asked, her tone a little odd.

Shelly didn’t seem to pick up on it. “Dude, you look like shit, and you need to explain why Logan sounds like he’s been hit in the throat. He’s saying it’s your fault.”

“I fed him some cocoa and ghost chili coffee beans and they went down the wrong pipe, apparently,” I lied smoothly.

Shelly narrowed her eyes at me. “Liar.”

Not so smooth after all. Instead of lying again, I said, “He got a lesson and hopefully it’ll be the end of it. As for why I look like shit, maybe… I… I don’t really have an answer.”

“It’s not like you to lie over… Well, anything, Ladron. What’s going on? What’s stressing you out so bad?” She persisted, her heart stitched to her sleeve.

Honestly, if was anyone other than Shelly, I wouldn’t have even thought of trying to say anything. However, the lethal, predatory glare Marissa shot me and the ‘I’ll slit your throat’ gesture were plenty enough reason to go with another, more feasible lie. “It’s… It’s a Z thing.”

Confusion crossed both women’s faces at the same time, but Shelly actually knew what I was talking about. “Wha- Oh. Oh! Dude, you know you can trust Rissa.”

I glanced at the plucky ginger and saw that she was giving me a smile fit to beat a bat with. “... Right. So… I’m Zephyr, right?”

Marissa smiled like an idiot, but I now had a ‘Wolf in sheep’s clothing’ vibe from her. “You mean like the musician?”

“Yeah.”

She stopped smiling, and for once in my life I actually paid attention to her. Every little detail about the promiscuous woman, everything from the angle of her resting lips to the frequency of the freckles that dotted her face. At face value I saw a girl who liked to party, who might have been the High School sweetheart turned spicy after the Swedish Fish left her little pond. In her bright, cheery green eyes, however, something just didn’t sit right with me. The more I thought about it, the more I remembered never having seen Marissa smile with her eyes. It wasn’t a big deal or anything, but it was certainly odd, and it played a key factor in me trusting her from that point forward.

“Ladron?”

I snapped back to reality, the gravity of the situation bringing me back down to earth. “Ten-four good buddy, copy that.”

Shelly looked at me like I was crazy. “... Marissa asked if you had any proof that you were Zephyr.”

“Ah. Right. Yeah, I can prove it, but I don’t give a fuck about that. What I give a fuck about is not being able to make music.”

Her jaw dropped and she covered her mouth. “You have… Writer’s Block!? You!? Of all people!?”

I glared at her to sell the act, though we both knew it would take more than that for me to toss a sour look Shelly’s way. “Don’t rub it in. I’ve been running myself ragged just trying to put two damn notes together and I can’t even get a beat that sounds half decent.”

“My man, all of your beats are great! That being said, why don’t you take a break from music for a bit and just focus on the crap you have to do for school? I mean, you practically treat music as a second school day and another part-time job. You need a break, La-La.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Marissa said brightly. “Party in Shelly’s room!”

The ladies grinned at each other before turning to me. “So, what do you say?” Shelly asked. “Are you gonna make us be all lonely, or are you going to stop being a hermit?”

“Hermits wouldn’t leave their cave. I leave my cave.” I defended quietly.

Shelly’s smile fell slightly. “Hey, I didn’t mean to offend or anything-”

“What? No, I’m not offended. Halfway in my head. Sorry.”

“... Have you even listened to music today?”

I shook my head. “Nothing sounds right.”

Apparently that was a cause for concern. “Well, maybe I could play something I’ve been working on for the past couple of years for you? I wanted to call it Lonely Stone.”

“I’m not lonely-”

“Are you sure?” Marissa cut in. “I mean, I’ve never met anyone who spends so much of their time at work and at home, especially when they have a school life. College is a time to get wild, Ladron, what’s holding you back?”

Instead of answering right away, I let my mouth hang open before closing it, looking between my best friend slash kinda girlfriend and her off-and-on paramour. “... I need to go talk to Freddy.”

Shelly shook her head slowly. “You’re not buying dabs.”

“Why not?”

“Yeah, Shells, why not?” Marissa asked, giving her a certain look.

Shelly cut her a stern glance. “Because I’ve never even heard of Ladron smoking weed, let alone going straight to dabs.” She turned back to me. “You’re not going to Freddy’s, and even if you try, I’ll just drag your ass to the ground!”

I raised a brow at her. “So you can do it, but I can’t?”

“That’s the gist of it,” my difficult girlfriend replied.

“You know how I feel about double standards.”

“And you know how I feel about you… Well, I guess you didn’t know, but now you do! I want you to stay out of that kinda crap, Ladron. It doesn’t make you the right kind of friends.”

“Hey! We met over a joint!” Marissa objected.

Shelly pointed at her. “Smoked a reefer cigarette with this one and she won’t stop eating my ass.”

“You said you love that!”

I closed my eyes and pursed my lips. “Okay, now I’m picturing it and it’s not as gross as I thought it’d be.”

Shells blinked. “... So…”

“Does that mean you’re open to being our third wheel?” Marissa asked excitedly.

“Sure,” I answered eloquently. “Just let me know.”

Shelly’s frown deepened just before she glanced at Marissa. “Would you mind if we talked real quick?”

The ginger seemed a little off-put, but not upset. “Sure thing, Shells. Ta-ta, La-La!”

When Shelly turned back to me, Marissa raised a finger to her lips before dragging it across her throat, a clear sign to shut the hell up about magic if I’d ever seen one. After she left, Shelly was in my face. “The fuck is actually going on here, Ladron?”

“I’m dry,” I said morosely.

“... I’m not buying you alcohol if you have a prob-”

“Shelly, I haven’t put a new song out in two days, nor have I been able to even start one. The well’s dry, Shells.”

She stared at me. “Would you be more upset if music stopped sounding good or if I died?”

“In fairness, music has been there for me my whole life.”

“Yeah, I’m truthfully not even offended. I think I understand now.”

“You do?” It was a surprise to me.

“You care more about music than you do about graduating, getting laid, or eating in general, don’t you?”

“I expect to graduate, I’ve never had that high of a libido, and eating gets tedious.”

“Goddamn, you are…” Shelly stared at me for a long couple of seconds, making me very uncomfortable. “Well, why don’t we try and spark some inspiration? I can lay down a beat and you can come in with whatever feels right.”

“If anything felt right about comping, I’d be doing it right now to be honest with you.”

“I know, which is why you should let me help you! I know we’ve done digital, but we’ve never done acoustic!”

I blinked at her, lyrics forming in my head as she spoke. “Holy beach I find myself; silver sands that color melts, golden paint upon skin and bone; you hold my heart upon a throne.”

She beamed and grabbed my hands. “Hallowed ground on which I walk; A hundred miles for a simple talk, best-friend, boyfriend, and brother make three, incest was not the point of. Theet. Um…”

There were immediately doubts in my mind as to whether or not someone could have actually not laughed at that. “I’ll come up with the lyrics, you make the song.”

Shelly blushed, which was adorable on her pale-tan cheeks. “I- You- Well, maybe… Um… I got nothing. That was pretty bad.”

“Hallowed ground on which we walk, go miles and miles just for a talk; even if you were undersea; I’d make the trip, so my point must be, that I lo~ove you. That I wa~nt you. That I ne~ed you to be by my side, my ride-or-die, my sour little mochi baked into a pie!”

We both giggled and snickered at the cheesiness of the second verse, but I was honestly feeling better about the whole ‘Magic is real and it’s trying to kill you passively’ thing. I couldn’t remember at the time, nor was it important, but I think the kiss Shelly and I shared at that moment was our first as a couple, unofficial as it was. I couldn’t have cared less if it was the first kiss or the thousandth: no woman I’d ever met or made out with had lips like Michelle Aiko

Gaul-Akaishi. Dear Lord above, did that woman just… I mean… I need a thesaurus, be right back.

The rapturous, forgiving softness of her non-vaginal labia (Labia oris, for those concerned) was simply, utterly, and completely euphoric. Before when I’d kissed girls and women in my past, they usually came with a feeling or smell that made the experience distinguishable. For example, Kara made me feel hot and uncomfortable, so I didn’t really enjoy kissing her, whereas the pecks and smooches I’d traded with the only girlfriend I’d had in high-school smelled like cinnamon and syrup half the time. Shelly, however, came with both an indescribable feeling and a lovely aroma, courtesy of thousands of cups of tea that had passed over the teeth and through the gums, each cup leaving a slightly similar, but ultimately different note. I couldn’t put my finger on the specific scent since it was definitely a form of jasmine, but the specific type was unknown to me. I labelled it as ‘Dragon Pearl’ since that was Shelly’s favorite kind, and leaned into the kiss a little more, pressing my lips more firmly against hers as she carefully looped her arms around my neck as if she was afraid of strangling me, or offending me in some way. When her breasts touched my sternum, all I could think about was being closer to her, to know her further, to absorb all I could from the moment so I could look back on it whenever my life was to flash before my eyes so I could say ‘Damn. That makes it all worth it.’. My heart fluttered in my chest, the beats so light and frequent that I could have traded places with a hummingbird and not have known the difference. In all my twenty-odd years, I’d never felt as complete as when I finished a song I could be proud of. At least, not until I kissed Michelle.

I let my hands rest on her waist as we simmered, the moment warming and cooling as we broke apart just to meet again at the same point, something inside me pushing me to hold Shelly close and just not let go. My mind could barely process conscious thought at the moment, the entirety of my brain power being devoted solely to remembering the experience. As with all good things, the kiss came to an end with a bittersweet symphony (Just orchestra, not the song) playing in my ears, the songs of my life not freaking me out since I wasn’t paying attention to them at the moment. Indistinct, vaguely classical music was playing and it sounded rather nice, but my attention was wholly devoted to a pair of circular pieces of Tiger’s Eye with Onyx inlaid into the centers. It’s cliche beyond the dashing hero saving the damsel in distress, but I couldn’t drag my eyes away from Shelly’s, my subconscious telling me that she was it. That I needed to shape up or ship it on out. That if I couldn’t have her, then I wouldn’t want anyone else.

“Hey, Ladron?” Shelly asked quietly, her voice hushed like she’d snuck me over while her parents were home. “I… Do you remember when we met?”

I inhaled, my breath a little shallow. “Um… At freshman orientation while senior year was still going on. How could I forget?”

She smiled a little, barely curving her lips. “What else?”

“You and I hung around the back of the group with BB and those other girls that were talking too damn much. We started chatting about our instruments and favorite kinds of music. I was Baroque Pop and Grunge Metal while you went with JRock and Hip-Hop. You said your favorite rapper was Nas, but your favorite lyricist was Rakim, which threw me through a loop because Nas was my favorite lyricist.”

“And?”

I blushed and looked down because the next thing I remembered was embarrassing, but the thing it pertained to was fine to talk about. “You were wearing this knife-pleated shirt and some kind of tye-dye blouse that was visually louder than a Daft Punk concert-”

“Knife-pleated shirt? You mean skirt.”

I nodded and smiled awkwardly. “I-It was cute either way, but I don’t really get why you’re asking me all this.”

“Because I want you to know that I’ve had my eyes on you for a while, and it’s not just because you’re the small-towner kind of cute. There’s something about you, Ladron-”

“Call me Max.” I said automatically, not even thinking about it.

“Isn’t that your middle name?”

The implications of what I’d just requested of her hit me like scrap metal in a sock, which is to say it hit hard and left some scratches where it landed. “Maxwell, but yeah…”

“... I’ve literally never heard anyone call you Max other than your Mom when she came for Parents Day.”

“My Aunt Tasha calls me Max.”

“I feel like someone else did too. If it’s an ex, we can just not talk about that.”

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

“No, it was my sister.”

The perplexed expression on her face was familiar. “You have a sister?”

“No, I had a sister.”

“... Oh.”

It hurt, but I still smiled. “She’s not sad anymore, and this is a really depressing topic, so let’s just carry on and say that I caught a glimpse of something with Kuma print on it during orientation.”

Shelly opened her mouth before it hit her. “... You looked up my skirt?”

“I have three kinks and that’s one of them.”

“That’s… So you’re a voyeur?”

“I’m an asstronomer.”

She pushed her lips to the side of her mouth and looked at me worriedly. “Don’t tell me you have mirror shoes…”

I furrowed my brow. “Why would I have mirror shoes?”

“I’m not telling you because I know you don’t have them.”

My face flushed again once the accusation landed. “Hey, I just happened to be walking up the steps behind you and the wind picked up! It’s not like I was crawling on the ground to catch a peek!”

“So… I’m sorry, but I don’t get upskirts.”

“I just like the feeling. And undies. A cute slash sexy pair makes the woman.”

“Okay, so when want sex, I should come in here with a skirt and some nice panties?”

I felt even warmer in the cheek area, so I said, “I guess…”

“Alright, so upskirts are one of your kinks. What else?”

“Why are we talking about my kinks?”

“Because I just had one of the best kisses in my entire life and I want some action. That’s why.”

“Oh.”

She winked. “Wanna hear one of mine?”

“Um… Yes. Yes, I should know these.” I nodded firmly.

“Well, I won’t tell you my biggest fetish, but my favorite is Frenching.”

“French kissing?”

“Yup.” She licked her bottom lip and bit it, giving me a saucy look. “Your turn.”

There was a lack of supplies in my brain. Oxygen and the blood that carried it were rapidly draining from my cheeks to another, equally obvious place. “Uh… stockings?”

She tilted her head. “Stockings.”

“... Yeah? Is… Is that weird?” I asked tentatively, feeling exposed for some reason.

Shelly giggled and my heart dropped like a piece of gold in baby oil. “Oh my God, if you met my Mom, you might cream your pants. I don’t think that woman’s gone a day in her life without stockings or pantyhose.”

“Right…”

She smiled brightly. “So what is it about them that you like? I know you don’t have a foot fetish.”

I inwardly gagged, then thought of foot odor and did it outwardly. “Ew, dude. And second, no, I like stockings because they make a woman’s legs and thighs look fucking tasty.”

Her smile dimmed and weakened. “Ah, right.” She looked down at her own legs and pursed her lips.

When Shelly looked back up, she snapped in my face, my eyes having followed hers. “Hello? Earth to La- Er, Ma- No, I’m calling you Ladron. La-La Can I help you with something?”

“... I think this might be the first time in my life that I actually want to see a woman naked.” I whispered.

“Hmm?”

“I… Er, well… I…” My tongue quickly found a way to loop itself so that the more I thought, the tighter the knot got.

She shrugged. “Is it my turn to-” I nodded as she spoke, trying to hurry her along. “O-kay. Well, I guess my second fetish would be being grabbed. Groped, I should say.”

“You mean like… In public, or…?”

“No, just in general. I mean, yeah, in public sounds really hot, but I just like to have my boobs and butt grabbed, y’know?”

“That just sounds like a turn on, to be honest. It’s pretty normal.”

The face she made almost caused me to feel bad before she said, “Not when I want it to be a surprise.”

“I feel like you’re talking about… Er, ‘con non-con’.”

“It’s not like that! I don’t wanna be snatched up by some stranger, just a little teasing!” Shelly defended in harsh whispers, her face brightening as mine did earlier.

In an act of spontaneity that was unusual for me, I grabbed Shelly thiccness with both hands and squeezed for dear life, her eyes shooting open seconds before her lids lowered and an enticing little moan escaped her lips. “My biggest thing is kinda embarrassing…”

“T-Try me,” she replied huskily.

“... Inverted nipples.”

Shelly seemed surprised. “Oh. You mean innie nips?”

“I guess.”

“Nipples that don't look like normal nipples.”

“Yeah, but not because of large areolas.”

“Or thick nips. I know what you’re talking about. It was a good reason for me to kick a couple guys to the curb before they got too far.”

My mouth suddenly felt dry all of a sudden, as if the moisture in the room had been drained. I licked my lips and asked, “... Are you trying to say something?”

“I’ve never met a guy who actually liked my nipples.” she said, making a face. “I mean, if it was anyone other than you, I would think you said that just to get some.”

“What else could I say that would get me some?”

Shelly rolled her eyes and huffed out a chuckle. “Plenty, but I’m not worried about you-”

“Your hair is magnificent, did you do it yourself? Your butt looks great in these jeans, by the way, definitely gives you a bombshell vibe. Babe-alicious. Bodacious. Downright calipygean, if I may say so myself.”

Shelly leaned back a little. “Uh… No, I had Marissa and Nicole help me with it. Nicole has a trick for bleaching black hair and Marissa just wanted something to do… Are… Are you trying to fuck me?”

“I’m trying to nail you like a stubborn two-by-four, yes.”

“So you’re asking me for sex.”

“Yeah.”

“... But you never asked Kara for sex.” Shelly said slowly.

I nodded patiently. “I didn’t like her like I like you.”

“Dude, Ladron, seriously,” her voice went flat, like she wasn’t amused at all.

“Am I not allowed to ever want sex?”

“Do you actually want it, or are you just saying that because you know that I do?”

“You’re sexier than Kara, Shells.”

“The fu- That Debbie D-cup having, toned booty-ass, girl-next-door- Boi. Are you out of your damn mind?”

“... I’m dating you, aren’t I?” I tried weakly.

“That would’ve been funnier if you delivered it better. Stay right here, I’ll be right back.” Shelly dashed out of my room, leaving my door wide open for all of thirty seconds before she ran back in with a smallish box in her hand. “And I’m back! Did I miss anything?”

I opened my mouth to ask what the hell she’d been doing and why she’d been doing it, but instead said, “Can you turn around real quick? Just for like, five seconds.”

She gave me an odd look, but still complied. When she did what I asked, I walked up behind her and seized both of her breasts, the foamy cups of her bra hiding the softness of her mammaries. “Mmm, I could do this once or twice~” she cooed, shifting her hips around in a way that drove Ladron Lite crazy.

“I could do this all day,” I murmured into her ear, her warmth and general energy soothing me while riling me up at the same time. It was an odd juxtaposition, but it was definitely one worth having my heart broken over to experience.

Shelly tossed the box onto my bed and laid her hands over mine. “Mhmm. Why did you wait so long to make this happen?”

“Because you have to be retarded before you can be smart.”

“Are you sure?” She giggled. “It sounds more like you have to dig through trash before you find something worth keeping.”

“Wouldn’t that make dating like a garage sale?”

“More like an estate sale, but yeah.”

“... So what would that make me?”

“Well, seeing as how I’ve been trying to get you to go out with me since day one, I would say I’m the old coffee mug that you glanced at a few times, but never realized how perfect it was until you picked it up.”

“Damn, you are pretty perfect for me. Especially since you know what analogies to use.”

“I’m pretty sure that was a simile, but I get what you’re saying.” She made me let go and spun around, giving me a quick peck on the lips that was followed by another, less hasty kiss. That one was succeeded by another, and then another until the conversation was well and truly over.

Now, if I were a cruder fellow, I might have spoken on what Shelly and I did with the little box she grabbed, but I think saying that they were condoms is enough to give one the mental image they need. I might like to think of Shelly’s perfectly round, big, bouncy-yet-firm bottom and the way she blows her hair out of her face with a well practiced gesture, but I don’t believe anyone else needs to be thinking about that. However, I will say that I well and truly enjoyed my hour and twelve minutes with Shelly, even through the afterglow. I’d never actually enjoyed coitus with someone until her, and it was most certainly an addictive feeling that I looked forward to having again. In fact, that very hunger for more intercourse was what made me last longer than a measly five minutes, though that may have been because I was actually having fun for once.

As my recent consummation of my relationship fell into the past, I realized that I had work in a few hours, still had to see what I’d missed in classes, and now needed to find out what kind of connection Marissa had to the magical world on the other side of music. Meanwhile, I took pleasure in ignoring all of that to relish my time with Shelly since I knew moments like the one we’d just had would be few and far between. Hell, even the songs that were now playing in my head reminded me of love songs and ballads of the heart, all waiting to be sung to my own little lemon dropping. I say lemon ‘dropping’ because Shelly’s the shit, and I also like lemon drops, so it works out.

Once Shelly was off of my chest and sleeping peacefully in my bed, I set an alarm on my clock for around an hour prior to her first class and took my happy ass to work for once in the past three or so days. I couldn't remember how long I’d been gone, but I knew Phoebe was going to have something to say about it, so I started coming up with a viable excuse. All of the ones I could come up with sounded really, really holey and stupid, so my next destination deviated from my set course and lead me to the police station so I could find Detective Winnfield and ask her if I could say I was kidnapped. After getting there and waiting all of ten minutes, I was asked to head to the Commissioner's office with a one man escort. It didn't seem like I was in any trouble, but I couldn't help feeling like something bad was going to happen. The music in my head was carrying on without a particular rhythm or vibe, so I took that to mean that I was in the clear and allowed myself to be directed to the place I said I was going.

The Commissioner's office looked just about like I’d expected it to. The room was spartan with a few proud pictures and news clippings framed on walls, a couple of desk toys, and a few pictures on said desk that pretty much made up the entirety of the non-essential things in the room. There was a mid-two-thousands looking computer perched upon the dark wood of the heavy-looking desk, but it was the man behind the computer that I wanted to know more about. For being a Commissioner, he really didn’t seem like Five-O. The fellow honestly looked like an old bouncer or body-builder instead of a cop, though it’s not like I’d known many cops or Commissioners to make a comparison. Still, when he stood, Commissioner Bronson was a giant of a man. I may have been six feet and a couple inches, but the man in front of me? Easily seven feet tall with a little room to spare. I couldn’t weigh him accurately, but if my somewhat muscled body could chunk up to two-forty, then I didn’t doubt that Bronson was every bit of three-fifty, if not more. The guy was just that big, and when people get that big, they tend to be intimidating. Most of the time it just meant that getting to his balls was easier with your fists than your legs. In Bronson’s case, I felt like the Silver Wolf was waiting for me to make a move, just so he could make my face a distant memory in both a literal and figurative sense. Literally by punching my beautiful countenance to the moon, figuratively by maiming me for the rest of my life. Wait… Oh, whatever. I was a little scared of the big guy, but I still had my Golden Nad that was a little tougher than the other.

“Hm. Ladron Maxwell Gadai. Native Irish father, African-American mother. No arrest record, no tickets, no fines, and no trouble with anyone in Troy as far as I know. Who the hell are you, kid?”

I really didn’t like how much he seemed to already know about me. Goldy got dented right away “Someone’s been doing their homework.”

“It’s not homework, keeping tabs on guys like you. That’s a full-time job.”

“It’s really not,” I replied uneasily. “Leave me be and I’ll go to work, school, and my house. That’s about it.”

“I know. There’re eyes on most of of the upper fifth percentile at Curtis since Magicians seem to gather there, regardless of they were born Attuned or Disarrayed-”

“Disarrayed?”

“Not in-tune with natural song. Ever since you Synched, you’ve heard two songs in every one, haven't you?”

I tilted my head. “That’s why everything sounds like shit!”

“It is. Most people learn to separate the layers as you grow more capable with your magicks and compositions, and as I’ve heard from Logan, it would seem that you’re eager to learn?”

“I am.”

“So you’ve spoken to Gregorovich?”

For a moment, I felt like my life depended on my answer. Honesty had rarely done me any favors in life, but I felt like it would’ve been considerably worse to lie. “... Yes.”

“The conversation?”

“A meet and greet. Basically him promising me powers beyond my imagination.”

“Have you ever watched Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I used to love that movie. Edmund was a dumbass dickhead.”

“Right. Don’t be like Ed and trade your soul for some ‘sweet’ things. Gregorovich will give and give until he snatches everything you’ve ever had from you, Ladron Gadai. You may have heard of Gina Hatter?”

“He said she just couldn’t handle his power,” I answered, perturbed.

“That’s because Gina was like a kitchen faucet trying to hold back the Hoover Dam.” Bronson barked. “Every Attuned is born with a different Score, another word for ‘capacity’ in our world. If your Score is small or low, then using your Legend’s original compositions might very well kill you.”

“... How do you learn the size of your Score?”

“Write a song with your instrument of choice and see how many notes are in it. The more pure the feeling behind the song, the more accurate the Score reading.”

“What if I already l know the average amount of notes I put into analog songs?”

“Why would you know that?” The Commissioner asked confusedly. “Actually, nevermind. What’s your Score?

“Uh… How do you measure that?”

“Have you composed something with notes?”

“No shi-” I remembered who I was talking to, not even needing a proper

“How many measures were there?”

“Uh… When I still did analog, there were usually two hundred to two-fifty measures.”

“Then your Score would be- I’m sorry?”

“Beg pardon?”

“Son, did you say two-fifty?”

“... Yeah?”

“... Was the song in sixteenth notes in six-eighths time?”

“No, I was in a pretty experimental phase before I got Fruity Loops down. I think it was ten-fourteen.”

He clutched his heart, his already ghostly white face seeming to turn ever paler, as if he could survive without blood in his head. “... Christ mostly-almightly…”

“... Sir?”

“... You weren’t born into an Attuned or even Synched family… How- I don’t…” He pushed his chair back from his desk with his leg, stepping away from me in the same motion. “Son, how about I make you a proposition?”

“I’m all ears, sir.”

He nodded a few times. “Quit the coffee shop and work here. I’ll train you. Here. If not me, then my wife, Meredith. All you have to do is promise me, as in oath to me, that you will never use your strength to harm others.”

I nodded. “Got a bible?”

“Your family isn’t religious.”

“I am.”

“God may or may not be real. The oath I have you swear will be more binding than any contract with him anyway.”

“Okay. How do I oath?”

The Commissioner reached into what I assumed to be an inside coat pocket and pulled out a harmonica, just like Maxim had mentioned. He played a series of notes that made an odd sounding song, my tongue feeling like it was coated in aluminum foil. In my mouth it felt normal, but the muscle itself just didn’t seem like the one I’d been born with. “Repeat after me: I, Ladron Gadai, of stable mind, body, and soul...”

“I, Ladron Gadai, of stable mind, body, and soul…”

“Swear to Alan Bronson that I shall never cause harm…” He waited for me to repeat it again.

“Swear to Alan Bronson that I shall never willfully cause harm to or against an innocent person without magic, regardless of their hostilities toward me. Is that good?”

“... Well, it’s more reasonable than my request, I suppose.”

“Right? I’d like to be able to defend myself.”

“Fair point. Now that you’ve sworn the oath, go quit your job and get your ass back here with eight cups of decaf, seven cups of normal gas, and a couple dozen donuts. Chop-chop.”

“... You realize my other job doesn’t make me do bitch work, right?”

“It’s called ‘grunt’ work, and you’re a grunt.”

“I’m a suicidal grunt who doesn’t want to have to do errands for no reason.”

Bronson rolled his eyes. “Everyone’s depressed these days, son-”

“Not everyone is willing to die along with as many people as he can take with him. I only really give a shit about one person in this entire city, Chief, and I’m pretty sure being blown up wouldn’t hurt her at all.” I said, bluffing my ass off like you would not believe. Or maybe you would. You literally did just read me saying that I was bluffing.

The Commissioner, however, didn't take the bait. “I’d be worried about that if you weren’t oath-bound.”

“You’re not innocent.”

“I am to you.”

“You’re essentially blackmailing and press-ganging me into joining your team against what I believe is my best interest.”

“So?”

I smiled at him. “I don’t consider you innocent.”

“Point being?”

“Who decides what the clause means for the oath? You or me?”

“... Fuck.”

“Play nice, Alan. We can both walk out of here happy.”

He pulled a gun on me, finger on the trigger, no hesitation in his eyes. “Why should you live?”

“Because Maxim wants me for some reason. I know that much just from talking to him. He chose me as his sole heir or whatever, so I must be some kind of special, right?”

“You just have a large Score.” Bronson snorted. “He’d be after anyone with a Score like yours.”

“How many people do you know with one like mine?”

“... That’s a point. That’s not a reason not to kill you, though.”

“Teach me instead of making me go to Gregorovich and you get to keep an eye on how I’m doing. I’m sure that the Police Commissioner is a pretty decent judge of character, so wouldn’t it make sense to keep the live ammo close to home where you can find and use it rather than leaving it in the streets?”

I could tell after a few seconds that I’d persuaded him to not make a mess he could easily cover up, but that didn’t lessen the tension in the room. “... Quit your job and come back. I’ll call Merry and have her start your training.”

“I’ll bring what you asked for, since you were so polite about it.”

He nodded and with that, I left, my tail wagging proudly and my butt adequately unkicked, so I considered the start to my day to be one of the best of the year, despite being threatened with death like it was Shoot ‘em Up Sunday. Before I got out of the station, a female officer stopped me and led me back to a photobooth-ish thing so she could take my picture for an I.D. The picture was terrible, as I expected it to be, but it named me as an Honorary Deputy of Philadelphia County, so that was pretty cool. It even had holographic decals and official type stuff, so it was pretty cool. I had to ask the officer what authority I had with it and she gave me a quick rundown of my ‘powers’. In essence, I could ‘arrest’ someone, but not without plenty of probable cause. That was about it. I was basically an average guy that could call the cops on someone and detain them until help arrived, but other than that, it was basically just a pretty piece of plastic that made me an official part of The System.

As I hopped back into Lisa and prepared to take off, I decided to try something. My phone was hooked up to my cassette player through the adapter, and the sound quality was pretty awful, but it worked for what I wanted it to do. At Once came through my cars speakers, though I listened more carefully then than I ever had before. The song played the first few notes, and then another song started playing underneath that one, as if it had been expertly layered to begin and end without causing any real ‘damage’, one might say, to the song. It wasn’t even that it sounded bad, it was just that the melody was different from any that I’d heard, and that in and of itself was interesting. With that in mind, I didn’t stop at just one song and played through my entire tracklist for driving as I meandered to Wake n’ Shake.

Izzy was at the counter when I walked in, though she was handling a few other late-morning orders while I bypassed her and went straight to Phoebe’s office. It wasn’t much considering the office I’d just been in, but the difference between the two places couldn’t have been any more obvious. Whereas Bronson kept things tidy and organized, Phoebe needed me to straighten out her office every couple of days, and it was pretty evident that I’d been away for a little while. It wasn’t that Phoebe didn’t like a clean workspace, it was just that she didn’t have time in the day to clean it up herself.

When I entered, I earned myself a quick smile, then a stern glare. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t-”

“A kidnapping victim. Yeah, that sucked. I miss anything?” I cut in bluntly.

“... Did- Did you just say you got kidnapped?”

I pulled my shiny new Deputy-thingy out of my pocket. “Catching the bastard got me a new job. I would give you two weeks notice, but it’s a ‘Quit now or forever hold your peace’ kinda deal.”

“I mean… I was... Well, I had a whole speech thought up for you but…”

“When have I ever missed work voluntarily?”

“Good point.”

I nodded. “So can I make a large order? I got a lot of thirsty and hungry cops looking for a fix.”

“Wait, are you saying that the Philly P.D. is ordering from my shop?”

“Well, I’m a part of them now, so yeah.”

“Woohoo! YES! I got the pig~gies, I got the pig~gies!”

I chortled at her antics, having forgotten all about her dream to be the ‘Cop-Stop-Shop’ that she never stopped mentioning whenever someone in uniform came around. It was a little sad when I thought about how it was probably so she could find a cute cop to date, but it was equally funny so I chose to let it be funny. Phoebe hooked me up with extra donuts and a discount, so I left Wake n’ Shake with a lot of shit that I didn’t plan on carrying into the Police Department by myself. I’m sure I pissed people off with my Sunday driving, but in my defense, I had thirty cups of coffee and three boxes chock-full of donuts to ferry, and I wasn’t trying to have to clean my car out again any time soon. Especially coffee stains. Just thinking about them makes me shudder.

Anyway, I recruited a young dude officer to help me bring in the goodies and earned myself some cheers from some people that I hoped wouldn’t shoot me. I didn’t know how many of the officers at the station actually knew of magic, but I did know that the middle-aged woman that wasn’t in uniform or official-looking clothes scared me more than Bronson ever could have. It wasn’t that she was menacing or intimidating: no, the woman was too matronly and short for that. It was the look in her eyes behind her smile, like she’d been to war, seen the elephant, and slapped it for crapping on the road instead of in the elephant potty. There was a hardness to her that I could feel rather than see. If she was going to be my teacher or whatever, then I needed to learn whatever she had to teach me, but that didn’t mean that I was going to do it because I wanted to. I would’ve rather learned from the guy who had been quite serious about ending me before I became too much to handle, in all honesty, because at least he had an air of reason about him. Once I stepped in front of Meredith Bronson, I felt like reason and logic bounced on their way out of the window.

She smiled as I came to her and I tried to smile back, but I’m pretty sure I just conjured up a worried grimace and had to call it a grin. Once I was within conversation distance, she extended a hand and said, “Why, hello! I’m Meredith, but everyone here calls me Ms. Merry.”

I shook her hand, her vice-like, kung-fu grip making my balls ache in fear. “Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Merry. I’m Ladron Gadai.”

“Ladron is such a lovely name, what does it mean?”

“I don’t actually know. My Mom said Grandma helped her come up with it, but I forget why she named me that.”

“Would it happen to do with your surname?”

“Gadai? I don’t know, why do you ask, Ma’am?”

“Because my Grandfather was Irish, and he taught me a lot of what I know. Gadai means ‘thief’.”

I raised a brow. “My Dad feels bad when he takes a good parking spot, let alone an actual thing.”

“What about you?”

“I’d rather buy whatever I want, that way I can be justifiably mad if it ever gets stolen.”

“Are you worried about your things getting stolen?”

“Well, a lot of it is music related, and music is my thing.”

Meredith gave me a frankly frighteningly friendly smile. “Well then, I believe we’ll just have the time of our lives. What do you say we go and get started?”

It’s not like I could have said anything other than, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh please, you can call me Mistress!”