DING! DING!

The little bell rings aggressively as Misha ploughs through the door of the quaint café.

“There she is! Better late than never, right hun?”

Sitting at a table of two with an americano in hand and a slice of cake awaiting its death on the marble-ish looking plate was none other than Misha’s childhood “friend”, Lucie. Ah, Lucie Rodgers, the loud American who had no regard for private space and no mute button.

“Still a bit chubby round the edges are we? Haha only joking babe how are you? I’ve been great, you know doing my law degree and what not! Aha, yeah so you still living in that shithole with that grumpy old woman are you?”

It seemed like she hasn’t changed at all.

Misha now remembers the real Lucie. Lucie’s a bitch.

Misha smiles and laughs it awkwardly off; she must try to bear with her. She could do with familiar face at Uni, even if that familiar face is an utter dickhead.

As Lucie waffles on about how beautiful and amazing her life is, Misha’s mind casts itself to that weird boy. She still didn’t even know his name. Why did he keep popping up in her life?  Is he some messenger sent from the dead to warn her about something? Is he a stalker?

No, she shouldn’t assume. She should ask him directly. Wait, what was the thing he said on the train again…

“He loves me?”

“What? OOO does our Misha have a lover??? Aww so cuteeee!”, Lucie says in her typical patronizing tone.

Misha shuts her down instantly.

“Nope, no way, never, ew no.”, she passionately insists.

Lucie rolls her eyes. She does not believe Misha one bit.

As Kichiro launches his microwaveable lasagne in the microwave with as much elegance as a ballet dancer who has Size 14 feet, does part time security guarding and has severe back pains, he hears the front door click open.

“Mr. Big Cock has arrived, hide your sisters, hide your girlfriends! Oi, Virgin, you in?”

Ah great. It’s the brother.

Yuichi storms in, sipping a bottle of Hennessy and playing Lil Baby out his iPhone 12, he swings his Gucci washbag on the table.

Kichiro stands in silence waiting for his lasagne to finish.

“Did you hear me or what?”, Yuichi says as he squares up to Kichiro, displaying an attempted expression of “threat”. Yuichi’s frail, wiry body isn’t what scares Kichiro, it’s his status that does. Kichiro knows that Yuichi, although he has an image of heroism and perfection to family and in the world of business, is actually a dirty bastard. He owns strip clubs, executes fraud to a large scale and funds drug dealing gangs, usually for situations exactly like what’s happening now. He can threaten whoever he wants, wherever he wants and know that his “associates” will deal with any confrontation. He has influence that you couldn’t imagine, and he’s still only 21.

“Why are you here?”, Kichiro asks. Yuichi is usually either at some rich girls penthouse or at work.

“I got some guy coming round in a bit by the way, claims he has Tia Miyamura’s number for me. F**kin’ yes please, ill have a slice of that. So yeah just like shut up and beat your meat or whatever.”

Ah, Tia Miyamura. The most popular pornstar in the business at the moment, according to Kichiro’s friends.

“Here’s some lunch money. You probably need it. Might be more than you’ll ever earn right there.”, Yuichi says as he lets out a smug laugh as he walks off to his room.

Kichiro knows this is clearly an insult but takes the wad of cash anyway. Truth is, Kichiro does need the money. The only reason he can afford to be in this apartment is because Yuichi pays for it. Kichiro knows Yuichi only funds it to make their parents think they get along, he could pull the plug at any time though.

Kichiro takes his sloppy, processed lasagne, stuffs the cash in his pockets and trundles off towards his room. It’s looking like another night of nothing.