Remembering a Friend

[Sebastian]

Roman Mordvinov

Roman gave a side glance at Proya. He seemed to deflate a little at the kid's refusal to give a fuck. Made sense. Yuri was used to making himself noticed- even if it was mostly being pissing people off. Being dismissed- despite any physical strength he might have- sucked. Still, Proya took it and not too sullenly. Roman knew then that they would be able to work together. As long as he didn't tick off too many of the wrong people. The Ambrosia or Blue pill or whatever people wanted to call it was far too valuable to lose because the guy had a mouth on him and wanted to make sure people didn't ignore him.

Especially if they learned how to make it themselves. Didn't do no good to have only one facility manufacturing the stuff. This shit was the best and would make a killing once it really got out there.

But anyway, that was all for later. He was still flyin' at the moment and Holly was next to him, mostly keeping quiet. He got that. This wasn't her type of place. Back where she worked, the girls did more than just dance. The Blue Moon handshake was pretty much expected. The girls here were not that type. The couple a guys who'd tried something ended up with busted arms or heads and a nice flight out onto the pavement. This place was for when you wanted to relax and enjoy the beauty for its own sake.

Anyway (again!), Holly. He was supposed to be wining and dining Proya. He smiled at Holly- feeling an absurd kind of pleasure that he'd taken her from that place. She didn't belong in a place like that anyway. Way too innocent, despite alla that. Who ever heard of a girl working at a club to help her mom buy a house in the country where they could shelter rescue animals. The sheer crazy sweet absurdity had been the thing that first pierced the horny drunk high fog of the night. The hook, he might say.

"Order what you want, sweetie. We'll have a little fun here and then maybe you 'n' I can go get some food at a nice place."
His smile widened at her, genuine. Hah! Who said gang-bangers didn't have hearts of gold? He was a regular hero and shit.

Anyway (again! Shit it was like REALLY hard to concentrate on one thing) where was he? Oh yeah. So pretty boy and his little amigo were toasting Bas. Yeah. "To Bas."
His boy. His brodyagi.

Yuri piped up, asking who Bas was. Roman jumped in. "Bas was my boy. Serious Brodyagi. Fucker saved my life more than once, the first time taking a hit or something that took him down for days."
He still couldn't believe what had happened. Course now with all the reveals about magic and shit, it made sense. His bro had used the power to save him. And more than once. He shook his head. The powder and booze were doing their thing. The emotions were all amplified and all over the place. He felt the loss of Bas now. And the guilt.

Shit, get it together! He did, though he couldn't help his voice getting quieter. He never knew where Bas got the paranoia streak or why it decided to take over there at the end. He'd spoken of people out to get him more than once and at the time, it had seemed insane. Then again, who knew. Maybe it was the Atha-whatever folks, his Lordship Nikko talked about. Maybe they had been onto him. Anger surged through him and for a moment, he wanted to take all of them out. Maybe they had killed Bas.

His eyes roamed the club, lost, as the feeling fled, draining. What had Bas seen? What had it felt like to be paranoid? All kinds of people here. The hot girl on the stage. The waitresses and bartenders. A few hired-guns who walked around to make sure the men (and women) felt appreciated and at home.

And the guests. Couple a' guys over yonder in some uniform. That gave him a smile. That should get some attention, what with how girls liked a guy in uniform. Not that he'd wear one. Tailored silk, gold, platinum or linen suits did just as well. One dude with them was more subdued with his dress. Didn't want to peacock. He respected that. And it had landed him one of the hired guns- a hot little chickadee anyway.

Couple of women too. One caught his attention. For a moment he wondered why. She was pretty, in a foxy viper way. Seemed the type to rip your throat out as easily as kiss you. That wasn't it though.

He tried to put his finger on it. Then it hit him, The girls. She wasn't looking at the girls. She was sizing up the fellas. Her clothes were richly cut. Then again, maybe she wanted a new sugar daddy to keep em coming. But Kallisti's wasn't too keen on pros using their establishment. No. Wasn't that.

But she was hunting something. She got up and made her way toward one of the decked out soldiers. The way she walked. Not a hired gun, for sure. But definitely using her allure. He jutted his chin in that direction. "Check that out,"
he said quietly to the table.