“Oh, hey, Ranko! Hit me too while you're up, please?”
Ranko giggled, wobbling a bit as she rose to her feet from the mauve floor pillow she’d been sitting on. “Honestly, Emi!” She walked over to the rose-colored loveseat in her friends’ hotel room, taking the empty glass from the blonde in the black negligee. “I’m two whole freakin’ time zones away from my waitressing job, and you guys still got me serving drinks in here!”
As Ranko, Emi and the room’s other two occupants laughed, the redhead stumbled drunkenly toward the small refrigerator on the console next to the television. “This shit is so weird,” she said as she pulled the black door open. “I’ve never seen wine come in a fuckin’ box before.” She, like Hitomi and Emi, spoke in English for the benefit of the newest member of the Dapper Dragons.
“Yeah, well,” Zoe replied, leaning back in a tan vinyl recliner in the corner, beneath a lighted wall sconce with a dusty gray lampshade. They wore a forest green tee shirt, the band logo printed on it having faded long past Ranko’s ability to recognize it, over a pair of heather gray sweatpants. “It’s what the shop ‘cross the street had, yeah? Ya said ya wanted me to leg it back, so I didn’t get too prissy ‘bout it.”
Ranko returned, handing the highball glass to Emi before collapsing cross-legged back onto her floor pillow without spilling a drop of red wine from her own paper cup. “It’s fine! Just, if Yui saw me serving this stuff, in these crappy cups, I swear she’d straight up disown me.”
Hitomi groaned as the dance song she’d been listening to ended and the clock radio on the gray mica nightstand began emitting the sound of Indonesian speech. Whatever the late-night radio host was talking about, he seemed very excited about it. “Ugh! Just shut up, dude! We can’t understand you anyway! Put the freakin’ music back on!”
Emi reached down, lovingly stroking the short brown hair of the girl seated on the couch with her. She wiggled her toes as Hitomi dipped the little brush back into the bottle of glittery blue nail polish in her hand.
“Hold still, ya little shit, or I’m just gonna start tickling ya,” Hitomi said with a grin, grabbing her girlfriend’s ankle and restraining it tightly against the scratchy couch cushion.
The blonde smirked. “Go ahead. You know I kick, and you’ll just end up with nail polish all up on your face.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Hitomi said through her devious laughter. “So, Ranko, have you… gotten to know your new friend yet? The one from Manila?”
The redhead swallowed hard, her face instantly turning bright crimson. She hid it with her hands in an attempt to preserve some measure of modesty. “No! I told ya, that's… not something I do!”
“You're so full of shit, your eyes should be brown,” Hitomi said with a devilish snicker. “Don’t lie, Ranko. Every girl does it!”
Yeah, well, I'm not every girl, ‘Tomi, Ranko thought with a nervous fidget. Not by a long shot.
“I believe her,” Emi said with a giggle and a wave of her hand. “Remember when Akane showed up in Hawai’i? She turns that thing on, there's gonna be so much screaming in this place, they're gonna call in the army.”
Ranko blushed further, pulling her knees tighter under her, feeling more uncomfortable with the conversation than she wanted to let on. She didn't feel as if she knew the band’s newest member well enough to delve into the particulars of either the Full-Body Cat’s Tongue or her sex life in present company. She’d long ago accepted that she had little veneer of privacy with Hitomi and Emi, owing to having to strip in front of them for rapid costume changes backstage, but that was a familiarity she’d not yet built with Zoe King.
“You want me to do your nails next, Ran-chan?” Hitomi waved the bottle of blue nail polish in the air, having finished Emi’s toes.
The young songstress blushed shyly. Even clad in a pair of red mesh athletic shorts and a matching Phoenix staff tee shirt, she couldn't have felt more effeminate in the moment. I'm at what amounts to a high school sleepover party, buzzed as shit off of box wine, getting asked about freakin’ playing with myself, and about to get my toenails painted. Dammit, I'm such a fucking girl. “You got any red polish?”
The brunette nodded, moving the little brush attached to the bottlecap to Emi’s left middle toe. “I think so. I'll check when I'm done with Ems.”
“I got it,” Zoe said, hopping to their feet. “I need the loo anyhow.”
As the Aussie began digging through Hitomi’s yellow makeup bag, Ranko answered with confusion in her voice. “Huh? The what?”
“The loo.” Zoe shrugged, carrying two bottles of nail polish over and showing them to the redhead seated on the floor. One was a cherry red close in color to Ranko’s hair, the other a darker shade of maroon. Both were speckled with bits of glitter mixed into the viscous colored liquid. “Ya know. The dunny?”
Ranko shrugged, taking the brighter red bottle from Zoe and setting it on the coffee table with a loud clack. “Sorry. My English is getting pretty good, but…”
“The bathroom, ya nuffy.” Zoe returned the bottle of maroon polish to Hitomi’s bag with a chuckle, shaking their head.
Nuffy? What the heck kind of English do they speak in Australia?! Oh well. I don't wanna ask what that means, too. I'll look like a dummy. Ranko nodded, her eyes wide in false understanding. “Ohhhh! Okay!”
Zoe laughed. “Alright! If there's no further vocabulary lessons, I think I'm gonna go have a piss now. There’s gonna be a quiz when I get back, mind!” With a wave of their hand, they headed for the narrow hotel bathroom, sliding the mirrored pocket door closed with its aluminum bar handle.
“You want us to do your nails too, Zo?” Hitomi yelled over the loud whir of the vent fan in the bathroom, which was tied to the activation of the light switch.
The toilet flushed and Zoe emerged a moment later. “Nah, I'm a’ight, mate. I don’t generally do me toes; ya can’t see ‘em in me boots anyhow. Thanks, though!”
Emi smiled welcomingly as Zoe retook their seat in the recliner in the corner. “So! What do you think of being on tour with us? Since, ya know, you’re officially part of the band now?”
Zoe blushed a bit - an unfamiliar sight on the normally unflappable Australian. They leaned back in the chair, crossing their ankles on the glass coffee table and sipping at the brown paper cup of wine they’d retrieved from Hitomi’s nightstand next to the clock radio. “It's… somethin’, a’ight. Can't say I expected any o’ this when I left ‘Straya. But it's been fun as fuck! Beats the ‘ell outta sittin’ at home waitin’ on Jakey to come back. I did enough’a that already the last few years, yeah?”
Hitomi nodded, blowing softly over Emi’s toes to help the polish dry and grinning as her girlfriend squirmed under the ticklish airflow. “You seem to be settling in on stage. Not as nervous now?”
Zoe shrugged. “Nah. Still scared shitless. Just hidin’ it better, yeah?” They uncrossed their ankles, and the loose glass tabletop began to tip to Zoe’s left.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Easy there,” Ranko said from her seat on the floor as she caught the sheet of tempered glass a few centimeters from her lap and returned it to the table base. “We have a rule in the band about, ya know, not killing the vocalist.”
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Hitomi giggled at the suggestion. “Ooooh! Speaking of…”
Ranko blinked nervously. “Uhhhh… yeah?” I don't know what the idea of killing me made you excited about, and I don't think I wanna.
“We gotta do fuck, marry, kill! It's, like, a pajama party tradition!” Hitomi tittered brightly as Emi sat up on the couch and kissed her cheek.
“You wanna do what, now?” Ranko blinked. “Let's pretend for the moment that I didn't have a lot of parties with… other girls my age growing up?”
“Seriously, mate? I ain't even Japanese and I know what she's talkin’ about.” Zoe shook their head, laughing at their friend's naivety. “So like, ya gotta pick three people. One who you’d kill, one who you'd bang, and one who ya’d marry. No pickin’ the same person more than once, and no skipping questions.”
Hitomi nodded excitedly. “Yep! Let's do… people in the band!”
Ranko swallowed hard. “That's hardly fair! Zoe’ll just pick Jacob, and you girls will pick each other!”
“Tell you what,” Zoe offered. “I'm not allowed to pick Jakey, and nobody’s allowed to pick anyone in this room. Deal?”
“But that…” Ranko hid her face in her hands, the Full-Body Cat’s Tongue making her palms sweat at the heat rising off of her cheeks. That only leaves the boys!
“I'll go first,” Hitomi said with a tittering smile. “I'm gonna say… I’d fuck Lance.”
Zoe cackled. “You sure about that, girl? Pretty sure that boy’d split your narrow ass straight from bird to boobs, yeah?”
Hitomi purred drunkenly. “Challenge accepted! As for the others… let's say, marry Sanyo, and kill Masa.”
“Why Masa,” Ranko asked curiously. “What the heck did he do?”
“He almost blows us all up on stage every night, ya dork! And Sanyo…” Hitomi giggled, blushing a bit. “I dunno, he's just cute. A little arrogant, but I can live with that.”
Emi grinned, hopping up to refill her wine and taking Hitomi's glass to do the same. “Well, I'm gonna say, marry Lance. He's sweet! He holds doors for girls. He's polite. And he's not hard on the eyes either.”
Zoe nodded with a grin. “Heard that, girl.”
“And, let’s see. We’re gonna fuck Shinji.” Emi smirked, putting the cap back on the box of wine and closing the hotel refrigerator.
Ranko scoffed. “Why not? Everyone else has.” She extended her legs on the taupe pile carpet, reaching down toward her toes to stretch her back with a quiet groan.
“Right?” Zoe laughed heartily. “Boy’s probably got more creepy-crawlies down there than a bar stool at a strip club.”
The redhead cringed, shooting Zoe a glare that the Australian didn’t notice. While she knew Zoe meant no malice by it, Ranko was not ready to joke about sex-related diseases. She was still reeling from Ken’s diagnosis and subsequent departure from the band. She’d at least gotten to speak to him on the phone shortly before leaving Japan for the second leg of the Wildfire Tour, and he’d said the medical trial he was enrolled in was going well so far. Ken was always on the quiet side, and was the last one to want to fill up a room with his presence in the way Shinji or Hitomi did, but she still missed him terribly. There was a gentle steadiness about him, like a warm blanket that just felt comfortable to have around, that she ached for in all the chaos of a tour schedule.
“And… I’m gonna kill Jake. Sorry, Zo. He’s great and all, but kinda obnoxious when he’s been drinking.” Emi smirked, plopping back down on the sofa with her back to the Jakarta skyline out the sixth-story window.
Zoe guffawed. “As the person stuck with his goofy ass? I can’t say as I blame ya a bit, mate. No offense taken.”
Sipping from her refreshed glass of wine, Hitomi motioned with her hand to the band’s new drummer. She walked around the coffee table, plopping down cross-legged on the floor next to Ranko and taking the offered bottle of red nail polish from her friend’s hand. “What about you, Zoe?”
Rubbing their chin thoughtfully, Zoe sat back in the recliner. “Marry… Ariel, I think. I’ve known him a while now, and he’s a decent bloke. Him and Jakey go way back.”
“Hey! Careful! That t-tickles, ‘Tomi!” Ranko giggled loudly, pulling her foot back on the carpet.
Hitomi laughed, unscrewing the cap of the red nail polish. “I barely touched you, ya puss!”
Yeah, well, the Full-Body Cat’s Tongue doesn’t like people messing with my feet, Hitomi, Ranko mused to herself, willing her legs to stay still as her friend set to work.
Shaking their head in amusement, Zoe continued. “I think I’d kill… Norio. He’s just, I dunno, a little weird, yeah? Something about him - like, he’s cool and all, but he’s just got that odd, distant, lives in his mom’s basement, might just like video games, might turn out to be a serial killer vibe, ya know?”
“And what about… ya know, the other thing?” Ranko blushed deep red, dreading her upcoming turn at the silly game.
“Hmmmmm…” Zoe sipped at their drink, taking a moment to consider their answer. “Utaru! Not sure why, just…” They shrugged nonchalantly. “... curious, I guess?” They motioned forward to the redhead sitting on the floor, who was still desperately trying to force her legs to stay still long enough for Hitomi to paint the toenails of her left foot. “Alright, Blue. You’re up!”
The redhead squirmed on her cushion. “Well, I, ahhh… Let’s kill Shinji.”
Hitomi smacked Ranko’s left calf sharply with her hand, eliciting a little yelp from the vocalist. “Hey! I said, hold still, ya little shit! Man, you sure picked on Shin quick, huh?”
“How many fights have we had in the band, and how many of them did he start?” Ranko held her knee down with her hands, not putting too much pressure on it. “Love the guy to death, but even he’d tell ya he’s kind of a jerk sometimes.”
Emi nodded, carefully stretching her legs out on the loveseat to avoid mussing the still-drying blue polish on her toenails. “Touché.”
“As for…” Ranko bit her lip, looking down coyly. “Ya know… let’s say… uhhhh…” I don’t wanna think about it! Not with boys! Wait! Yes!
“Ken!”
Emi groaned, dropping her arm onto her thigh with a slap. “Oh, come on! That’s cheating! You know he’s gay! He wouldn’t touch ya!”
Ranko grinned broadly, throwing up two fingers in a gotcha gesture. “You guys said I had to pick a boy. Not my fault you weren’t specific!”
“She’s got us there, Ems,” Zoe said, tipping their wine cup in the blonde’s direction with a chuckle.
“Yeah? We’ll let you get away with it this time, but you can’t use Ken again, and you still gotta pick somebody to marry…” Hitomi giggled, nudging Ranko’s ribs. “As if we even need to ask.”
Ranko blushed, squirming on her cushion again. “Whaddya mean? Like you know who I’d pick!”
“And when it all is through, and I’ve done all that I can do, I’m gonna be a little closer to believing that I’m worthy of you…” Emi giggled as she sang, and Hitomi joined her a few words in. The brunette’s singing was quite off-key, owing to her intoxication.
The chorus of the duet Ranko had written with her best friend made the poor singer want to curl up and hide. “Well, if you know, then I don’t gotta say it.”
Zoe shook their head, chuckling. “Oh, nice try, missy. All of us had to get embarrassed. You’re not getting out of it, girl. And the fact that you’re taking this seriously enough to not wanna answer is… well, more telling than not answering it in the first place.”
“Nuh-uh! It’s just… ‘cause I’m a newlywed, and it’s weird to think about doing that with anybody else!” Ranko waved her hands defensively in front of her face.
“Then say it,” Hitomi said, taking hold of Ranko’s right ankle. “If it’s no big deal, say it.”
Ranko swallowed hard. They’re right. It’s just a game. I wouldn’t do it. They know I wouldn’t do it. Akane knows I wouldn’t do it. So why does it feel so weird to say it out loud?
“I… I’d marry Crash.”
Hitomi chuckled, moving the nail brush over to Ranko’s right foot. “Yeah?! No shit.”