Hard Candy

Mookie’s Hotpot Ranch was an interesting place to say the least.

We got in right away.

No, you don’t understand.

Like right away. There was no wait, there was no private check, no ID, no wand.

We walked through the door and Dvar was greeted with a handshake by the quite large bouncer.

He placed his hand on the back of my neck as we walked through the throng of people and just the way other people received him made me feel secure. More important. At least with his guiding hand on my neck.

It was a restaurant, a meeting place, a watering hole. The social heartbeat of this part of Thread. Just seeing how many people of importance were here let me know how Mookie himself was received.

Everyone I saw here, even though my memories were borrowed ladders, I recognized them.

Dignitaries. Or at least the modern version. Actors. Singers. Even people with popular audio shows or profiles. A weird kind of aristocratic studio 54 vibe.

Magistrate of South Thread.

Magistrate of North Thread.

Same night.

Okay, not gonna lie that’s impressive. Wow.

My pretty eyes knocked around the space, eating up everything.

It was like a cyberpunk hotel with eating rooms.

Each one was themed differently of the four. For the seasons.

The walls had that familiar third eye layer woven into them, moving paintings and pictures throughout when ambiance wasn’t the main soup du jour.

Music played lightly. A kind of … baroque 90s Boom-Boom-Bap style beat structure crackling in the heartbeat of the place. A saucy violin ripping over sick rhythm and bluesy beats.

I could smell absolutely delightful food cooking. And I never used words like delightful.

This place smelled like everything Mido would have thrown me to the wolves for eating. Ghosts had an even stricter diet than Hunters or Knights combined.

Basically rabbit food or get beat up.

Even though the only thing I had on my mind was butter chicken? In that moment. I just kinda wanted pork. Or anything for that matter that this place was serving.

Each of the four rooms as I followed Dvar wasn’t just a theme for a season, but it was also a theme for a meal. Breakfast, Brunch, Lunch, and Dinner. I wanted in that breakfast cafe so bad my mouth was watering.

I’d never had an omelette. I just know they were delicious. I saw videos of them, even saw a couple Thread commercials. Or at least remembered them… being so close to one right now kinda made me wish I could wander off and do what I wanted.

“Go play,” Dvar said, as if reading my mind, and I stopped.

I looked as him as beautifully dressed people walked past us. Different kinds of colognes and soaps and shampoos flooded my senses. My attention kept shifting any and everywhere but Dvar.

He captured my chin and made me turned my head to him but my eyes were slow in following, lagging to the right to stare at something that had my attention.

“Pretty Boy,” He said, and my eyes snapped to him, big and overstimulated.

“Mhm?”

“Go play. Everyone here has their pet with them.”

“Pet?”

“You.”

“Oh… right. Rich people. Clones. Gotcha…” I nodded.

He did as well.

“Right. So go make friends. Find us a way to get close to Mookie. I’m gonna go work things on my end.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I’m gonna go talk to Mookie.”

“Wait, what?”

“It’s only the game that matters. I don’t have to hide my intentions. My station is higher than his.”

“Oh. Pissing contest.”

“Not in public,” He reminded, tapping the tip of my nose with a fatherly finger.

I flinched and nodded.

“Sorry,” I said as he pulled from his pocket a sports watch and I looked at it.

“Give me your wrist, Pretty Boy.”

I didn’t know what to say honestly. I just offered my right hand.

He pushed it aside.

“Your other wrist.”

“Oh,” I said, switching my hands up as he quickly adjusted the band over my wrist.

Nobody had ever given me anything. Except a swift beating, a smack in the mouth or more disappointment.

Now in the same day he’d given me gummy bears and now a watch.

I was finding it harder to dislike him.

That was terrifying.

Then he looked at his own watch, an elegant, chunky piece of metal that looked like it cost more than I did.

“Let’s meet in the lunch room in an hour.”

“Where are you gonna be?” I asked, genuinely worried about not being able to find him.

“I’ll be up stairs on the roof talking to Mookie. He and I need to come to an understanding that I’d much rather reveal itself after you find his clone and put a boot to him.”

“So I’m starting it off?”

“Something like that,” Dvar said, still speaking to me quietly as people passed.

“I kinda need to know…” I looked up at him seriously.

“Like I said, turf wars start because two lieutenants disagree all the time. It can’t be my fault.”

“You can’t start it but you can finish it kinda deal,” I nodded.

“That’s right, Cutie.”

“I’m not cute, I’m tough,” I whined.

“Go play,” Dvar rolled his eyes and rubbed my head.

I glared daggers at him.

He smiled through a chuckle and was gone.

And for the first time I kinda felt… lost without him.

I looked around at all of those unfamiliar faces. All of those scents. Those people. Those intentions…

And I took a deep breath, picking a direction and starting to walk.

I remembered Dvar’s energy and tried to project the same.

He said this place was more about the mask. So I projected it.

I walked like I was owned by an Oyabun.

Slow, intentionally, unbothered.

I fought to slow my eyes down, letting them tick-tock, but in slow consideration.

I still needed to feel safe. To know every doorway, every exit, every person.

I just measured them slower. I took longer with each assessment.

Perhaps too long on some because the looks I got back weren’t the ones I wanted.

I felt the pressure immediately when I saw another pair of eyes that couldn’t be human.

As they passed under that black light with me, he heading north, me heading south, both of our eyes lit up.

Mine went amber, his went green.

He paused. I paused.

But I kept going.

“Hey…” He said.

I stopped, cursing under my breath before I turned around.

“Yeah?”

“Where’d you get a set of eyes like that?”

“Same place you did.”

“No… you know what I mean. They’re orange.”

“Amber. Yeah.”

“I thought you guys didn’t exist.”

“Most clones think that. I don’t often go around stumbling into black lights.”

“Yeah… so who are you?” He asked, studying my face.

So I got a better look at his.

Like most of Thread’s ritzy district, the clones here were like me.

Really good looking.

Often pretty.

Like K-Pop in front of me here.

Though to be more fair to him, he was more like ‘Hot Asian Fuckboy’ pretty? If that made sense?

He was also taller than me, like those green eyes would dictate.

Hunter’s were.

Only Ghosts were runts.

“…02Delta,” I said finally, lying.

“You’re a Delta? That’s crazy…” He turned to face me better, “seriously?” He asked, stepping in closer to me.

I looked him up and down as he approached but held my ground.

I had to resist the urge to fight the tension.

I had to learn to respect station. I had it. This guy didn’t, right?

Everything in me told me to take a defensive step back.

But I leaned into the tension. I stayed planted.

“Yeah… why?”

“Because clones don’t get greek numbers anymore. Just model runs. I’m an Express Nine-Nine,” He said, studying my face closer.

I saw his eyes dip down to my mouth.

I read him like I read Dvar.

Fuck. I’m about to get kissed.

“What’s an Express Nine-Nine?” I asked, turning my lip up.

“Just another hunter. We become less special when The Silence mass produce,” He said, flirting me up with those green eyes.

I saw them twinkle over my face.

I mimicked his hungry look at me with one of my own.

He clearly wasn’t battle trained.

He read my feeling him out as a flirt back.

“Sorry for your loss,” I joked.

K-Pop smiled that attractive smile.

I genuinely hated I had that.

“It’s fine,” He said, squaring his shoulders to me.

I couldn’t tell if I was reading him or feeling him.

Like, feeling him-feeling him.

Dude, am I gay?!

I had to force myself to stop my eyes from going wide at that thought.

Station.

Fuck. This was hard.

I saw the ownership collar around his neck.

He noticed I wasn’t wearing one.

I could tell.

“It’s on order,” I said, tracking his look down.

“On order? You new booty?”

“Something like that… Look, I gotta…” I nudged my head further into the Hotpot, trying to act like I didn’t just hear that shit.

“Yeah? Lemme show you around,” he said, turning to head the way I was headed.

Fuck.

I let my amber eyes finally survey him fully, my eyes tick-tocking around his entire situation.

Looking for weaknesses or checking him out.

You be the judge.

Tension.

Finally realizing he was kind of out of place here.

He had high tops on like me.

Not Chuckies though. His loss.

Nike Dunks. Respectable Choice.

I liked him and hated him at the same time.

A white button up shirt, but the jacket he wore was a black leather jacket.

Like a bike jacket, not a business casual.

“… Sure…” His eyes lingered on my face.

I almost felt it coming.

He knew me. That light of recognition. When it dawns on someone.

Why did it take him so long to realize?

Blindsided.

Fuck. Attraction.

You can see it. I’m about to get kissed.

God damnit.

“I’ve seen you before,” he said to me, my eyes retreating.

Fuck.

“Yeah?” I said, walking along beside him, trying to act like my nerves weren’t screaming at me to ditch this guy.

He caught my eyes retreating. I could feel it. The shift in the energy.

He won a little ground.

But I played it cool. I played through. Taking a slow breath.

“Mmhm… from Meridian,” he explained.

“Yeah?” I said again, moving towards the stairs at the back of the entry hall, passing the breakfast and brunch cafes.

We both started up them together.

“Yeah. I’d recognize that face anywhere. And those eyes… everybody remembers a ghost when they see one.”

“Heh… funny,” I laughed humorlessly.

I didn’t recognize this dude at all. Then again the first half of the ghost program was basically something like survival.

Throw you into a sea of testosterone. If you live, you get to learn tradecraft.

Guys like this kicked the shit out of me every day.

I didn’t recognize him. I recognized his archetype.

Tall, handsome hunter. Confident. Capable.

Looking for somebody to push around.

“I’m not joking,” he said, his tone shifting.

I threw my amber eyes to the left at him as we ascended the steps, turning together up the next set, all the way to the top.

I looked around up on the second level. A wide open social floor. People stood around talking in groups. Some crowded the bar.

The dull roar of social conversation. The occasional laugh.

“Look,” I finally said, stopping to face him, “is there something I can do for you?”

That’s when he stepped up beside me.

No. Another him. Stepped up beside me.

The two of them boxed me in and I backed up to lean against the wall by the stairs.

“Twins…. Neat,” I remarked.

“Mhm…” The new fella said leaning against the wall on my right.

“Vincent,” Front Man said.

“Viggo,” Wall Dude called himself.

“Uno…” I nodded.

“Pleasure,” Viggo said beside me.

Vincent reached up and gingerly took the lapels of my jacket in his hands.

Here it came.

My back hit the wall.

Fucking. Hard. As shit.

God I hated being the little dude all the time.

“So let me establish some ground rules for you, Pretty Boy,” Vincent said.

Getting in close.

Uncomfortably close.

I could smell the candy on his breath.

Viggo just put his back to the wall, crossed his arms over his chest and reclined against it with a foot.

I understood clearly.

“Yeah?” I nodded, “I’m listening.”

“Dvar’s not fooling anybody walking in with his A-Class hardware and his S-Tier toy.”

“I’m S-tier?” I glared at him.

“Let me see,”

He kissed me so hard my head hit the wall.

“Mnh!” Anger shot up my neck. It burned in my face. It burned in my ears and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

He forced my mouth open with his tongue and I did what I was told.

I put up with the bullshit.

I passively let him taste my lips once. Then again when he shoved them open with his tongue.

I felt it. A piece of hard candy.

The twangy sweetness of sour grape.

Bastard.

The kiss broke apart and I stared a hole in his eyes.

“That how you greet everybody?” I asked, fighting my gall to deny him the right of knowing he’d gotten to me.

I rolled that candy around in my mouth. Slowly.

Letting it click against my teeth, intentionally showing off the shape of my lips while I entertained his sex drive.

Flirting as a dominance signal?

Where’d that come from?

Whatever. I rolled that candy around in my sexy mouth hole as suggestively as I could.

And why? Because if I didn’t, I’d say he pissed me off.

Or scared me.

I couldn’t afford either, so I went with entertained me.

I could hate myself about it tomorrow.

“No… just being selfish,” He said, looking down at my mouth.

“Mn… Next time it’ll cost you,” I said, ad-libing what I imagined Dvar would say.

Viggo turned to face me then.

“Excuse me? You wanna repeat that?” I heard him say.

I didn’t turn to look at him.

I just stared at Vincent.

“Pick your battles…” I warned. Calm. Dvar calm. Still rolling that candy around in my teeth. Slowly.

Click. Click-click.

Vincent stared at me for a long moment. He ate up my pretty eyes.

“I do… quite well.”

“Apparently not. You know who I am. Even though you’re acting like you don’t.” I said. Cool. Terrified.

I blinked cat-like slow. Embodying my owner. Signaling the prestige I had spent most of my time with lately.

Vincent considered me.

Viggo took a nervous breath.

Dvar Olmedo.

That’s right.

“Whatever, new booty…” Vincent finally said, forcing a little smile.

Breaking the tension.

For me, that smile signaled the fight ending before it began.

I forced myself to stay cool outside.

Inside… The story wasn’t nearly the same.

Starting a fight seven steps away from Dvar? That wouldn’t go well for me.

Vincent let his smile grow, slowly. Easing off of the accelerator.

That’s it, big fella.

He took a breath and looked over at Viggo, nudging his head.

“C’mon…”

The two of them slid away, sauntering for the door.

“Thought you were gonna tell me the ground rules,” I said after they started away.

Viggo turned to walk backwards, looking at me.

“We’ll chat again…”

“’Nother time,” Vincent said, waving a hand without looking back as they left together.

I won the signaling game.

I can’t believe that shit worked… I watched them as they headed out. Two twins in the same outfit.

Fuckin’ nerds.

I let my eyes roll shut and blew the tension out slow, sagging against the wall. Relieved.

But bothered.

My hackles were up at the remaining waves of tension.

I had to take another slow breath.

Seeing what it took to be unshakeable honestly shook me.

“How the fuck does Dvar do this every day?” I whispered to myself, steadying my breath.