"WHAT?!"

"It was a mutual break up, we're still friends, yada yada..He was a prick anyway." Deamion murmured into his drink. The ice cool strawberry tinged sangria flowing freely down his raw throat. His skin tingled like ants were crawling all over him and his heart was going way too fast for the buzz to catch up to him. This was still the best drink he had had in a long time though, way better than all those drunken nights, tumbling into bed, shot glass in hand, with that...asshole. He felt his head pound just thinking of that idiot. With a grimace, he threw back his head and downed his sangria, gesturing to the bartender for another. Hoping that he would mistake the wetness in his eyes for the burn of the alcohol and not the sign of some sorry spineless sob drinking himself into a coma. He was with someone, he wasn't alone.

"Still...on your birthday?" "Told ya, he was a prick. Probably off banging someone else now in some cheap motel room." He grimaced again, wiping the thought from his mind and rolling his eyes. Sipping his newest, fourth, drink. Curse his alcohol tolerance! Why couldn't he just get drunk off his ass and wake up half sober in some ditch? Better yet, waking up in some ditch after setting fire to that asshole's house.

"That's it!" Andries shouted out loud next to him, invoking a wince from the half drunken fool. What was it? Setting fire to his house or waking up in a ditch? Though, he could probably pull it off. He had gloves at home, could extract the gas from his car...pour it all over his closet, he did still have his house key and all. Hide out for a while and-"We're gonna get you laid." "What?"

"Look, if he's banging some random chick, you might as well do the same thing, right? Look, it's still birthday anyway so you might as well enjoy yourself while it lasts." Leaning over, he tugged the glass out of his hand and threw a few crumpled notes at the counter. Dragging his friend away from the bar, "Come on, let's get out of this bore of a bar and go find you a real man." "No, I'm tired of 'real men'. I don't want another asshole prick in a bar." Deamion growled, snatching his hand back, unfortunately not out of reach of Andries to snatch back.

"Fine, then we'll go to some library or some...fancy....restaurant!" "What?!" "Keep your options open, the waiters are pretty hot." All he received in answer was a deep growl as he continued to drag the man along. Deciding not to look back and see angry grey eyes glaring back at him. He would thank him for it later.

Handsome. Sexy. Cool.

Use those words if anyone ever wanted to describe Blake. Yup, even he could feel people be entranced with his captivating aura. It was pretty much guaranteed that anyone who ever would become close with the smoking hot man would obviously have some sort of romantic encounter sooner or later. The younger man next to him was definitely no exception. Blake was sitting next to his ex boyfriend-now-drinking buddy, Chrys in the bar as he heard the music play in the back. "Y'know Blake, sometimes I wonder, why don't you ever go and get partner or something. I mean, your sexy, hot and great in bed so I don't get why." Blake closed one eye and rested his chin intertwined hands.

"I just don't want to. I mean, the last relationship I had was with you and that was like a few months ago, so as you can see I'm still heartbroken." He stated as he put on a fake sad face on. Chrys simply scoffed. "Please, after we broke you went ahead and started screwing people like a monkey, Heartbroken, my ass." It was true, Blake was never on to go ahead and start eating a bucket of ice-cream over a break up, he would just be reading a book as he flirted with the next cute human being. Sighing, he gave a look at his cute friend as leaned in closer as he cupped Chrys' face with his warm hand. "I miss you, you know that? I miss how we used to feed each other cotton candy and I miss all your cute little whimpers in bed as I was about to e-".

"I also miss how you always forget how short-tempered I am and the fact that I carry an illegally modified stun gun with me everywhere I go. Oops, sorry for interrupting you. Go on. Finish that sentence. I'm so eager to hear." Chrys smiled sweetly, Blake was on thin ice. He was so not ready for the taste of that stun gun. Moving back, he let go of his friend's face as he smiled weakly. "Just... testing the waters? Is that how it goes?" Chrys gave a nod as he signaled for another glass of wine. "Anyways, if you keep screwing around you're going to end up with something. Protected or not." Chrys took a glance at the amount of glasses next to Blake and rose an eyebrow. "How are you not drunk? That's like already twelve glasses of whatever you were having? Spirits?." The handsome male winked cutely. "It's called water, sweetie. Try it sometime."

"WHAT!?" Both of them looked over the owner of the obnoxiously loud voice. Chrys rolled his eyes, "Drunkard." Blake looked at the person next to him, he was cute. Maybe he was... "No. I know what you're thinking. No." Damn. He had to pull out what he hated doing. "Please! Please! Just do it once okay!? Pleeaaaaaase!" He had to beg, Chrys was enjoying this. He knew it. Sighing, Chrys got up from his seat as the other two got up, gesturing him to follow him. Chrys walked over, looking absent mined as he went closer and closer. With that, there was a small splashing sound as the wine Chrys was drinking spilled all over the poor man's shirt. "A-a-ah! I-I'm s-so sorry! P-please... d-don't be angry..." Chrys whimpered out. Blake was amused, Chrys' ability to go from sarcastic asshole to adorable puppy was always handy. The one who wasn't wet, seemed to be in a sad state, perfect.

"Urgh!" He growled, pulling away from Andries and glaring down at Chrys. Hard eyes against his puppy stare, Deamion was the first to huff and look away. Turning his back to the man, he growled to his friend, "Are you alright?" Rolling his eyes at Andries' peachy smile and 'okay' sign. Shaking his head, he grabbed his hand and started to lead them both out, "Look, let's get you back home to get changed and let's forget all about your crazy schemes. I just wanna go home and sleep."

"No, we're getting you laid, whether you like it or not!" "Rape." "Fine, you'll like it." He muttered, starting to pull him along again. Ignoring his friend's annoyed sighs and weary dragging of his feet. After a few forceful tugs on his reluctant friend, he stopped and turned to him. The both of them having at least reached the entrance of the mousy bar. The jazz music already starting to fade behind them. Andries crossed his arms and stared up at his friend, unfazed with the steady glare that returned his gaze. It was a silent battle between the two of them. Finally, Deamion sighed and looked away, running a hand through his tri-coloured hair in a defeated frustration.

"Can't I just drown my sorrows in alcohol? Or fire? Or better yet, something that doesn't involve me on my knees?" "But you're so good on your knees." "....." "While baking I mean." "When-" "You're ovens' really low." He stared dully at the man, then rolled his eyes and cracked a smile. Then the both of them broke out into a laughter that only two close friends could share. Wiping a tear from his eye, Deamion sighed, shoulders relaxing, but before he could even voice his contentment, he found himself being dragged by his friend again, back towards the bar. "Hey-Wait...I was kidding about the alcohol."

"Hush, we're still gonna get you laid, hey pretty boy." He turned and called out to the guy that had spilled his wine over them. Uh, who drank wine in a bar? And what was going on in his friend's head?

"Yeah, you! Who spilled your drink all over me. You gonna apologies proper to me and my friend or what? "

Spilling wine was simple, cleaning it wasn't. That's what Chrys thought as he looked at the pair, the guy with the crazy colored hair was giving him a huge death glare. Not one to fall for acts huh? Blake smirked ever so softly as the two left. Shrugging, he looked at Blake like with an indifferent expression. "Well, I guess that's that then." Chrys sighed out, not like it really mattered. Then he turned back and looked at the pair of people walking back. "Hey, pretty boy." Chrys looked at the guy with the wet shirt with a deadpan look, he eyed Blake who had a look of, "Please, help me!". Sighing, he put on a shy and meek face. "Yeah, you! Who spilled your drink all over me. You going to apolgise properly to me and my friend or what?" No way outta this. Sighing, he feigned a weak yet strong look on his face. "H-hey! I already apologised already right?" Chrys tried to protest as he put on a vunerable look.on his face. Blake rose an eyebrow, here they go again, "If you want an apology, then fine! J-just... H-hic... I-i,,,, Ooooh...." Cue the tears and extremely rapeable pose. Even with a few drinks Chrys could be relied on. Plus if he was gonna get screwed then, might as well right?

Blake had to take advantage of the situation and quickly. Noticing the guy's puffy red eyes and he knew he had to say something. "Hey, what's wrong? A handsome guy like you shouldn't be crying. Come on, I want to see a smile on the cute face of yours." Blake asked in a nice, natural low voice which Chrys once called the "take me to the freaking bedroom voice" to the guy with the three coloured hair. His heart pulsed at a steady rate, as he saw a small shock of purple fly through the air.

Andries stared down at the crying boy, then shot a look back at Deamion who was just gesturing for him to cut it and run. He could always push too far and this honestly wouldn't be the first time he had seen his friend make someone cry in public. It also wouldn't be the first time that Andries made the situation even worse by trying to 'help' said crying person. Unfortunately, Andries being as Andries was, failed to take any of his frantic hints and decided to take matters into his own hands, "You know, if you're gonna cry, the worst place you can do it is a bar. And cryers that come to a bar usually go for hard beer and sangria, not classy red wine that you have to fork out a pretty penny for. So..." He leaned down and met the boy's tear stained gaze, holding his hand out, "There's a pretty penny spilled on my shirt, and it's gonna take a pretty penny to have it out, pay up."

He rolled his eyes and ran a hand over his cheek. Sighing softly to himself and staring down at the fancy tile work on the marble flooring, pristine white till a shadow fell over them. He peeked out from his hand and stared up at the man who had come across to greet him. Tall, dark and handsome. Well dressed compared to the other geezers that inhabited this watering hole. Staring down at him with something akin to autism concern and... Geez, that smile. Something purple flitted over his vision, but he was vaguely sure that he was just seeing red instead.

The corners of his lips tugged up into a smile and he rested, hiding, half his face in his hand, answering his gaze with a giggle, "Call me cutie again, handsome.."

Really, the punch had been uncalled for. Especially towards a complete stranger. He usually reserved the brass knuckles for that. Still, it had felt good when his fist connected with that pretty boy face. "Call me Cutie again, and you'll end up in the morgue." He growled, cracking his knuckles as Andries rushed back over to him. The bartender quick to follow, ready to throw them out. He didn't particularly care if a fight happened, as long as it didn't happen in his bar. Deamion sighed, feeling only slightly better from letting some steam out. Pretty fucking great birthday so far!

Really, if he just had not punched him everything would've been just fine. But nope, he just had to didn't he? Putting the events that just happened together, Blake assumed the guy was angry and cried about something. With that being the case, he breathed out a little. Chrys, noticing the situation just sighed and rubbed the fake tears off. "Crying is stupid anyway, if you want money go ahead and take it, I have loads being the CE-" He just shut himself up and gave a simple huff. Getting punched in the face didn't hurt, just took him off guard. Adjusting his glasses, he looked almost unfazed bar the small across his now not-so perfect cheek. Watching the guy crack his knuckles was amusing, "If you want to punch me, go ahead. I don't mind." He answered. It didn't matter to him, he could get a thousand injuries and still come back to life with that damn smile.

"Y'know, I wonder, could you best Mister Actor over there in a fistfight? He has a bit of experience in fighting, I don't." Blake offered a real fight with Chrys, hopefully the guy wouldn't have 1000 volts coursing through his body by the end of the night. The bartender had to sigh, Blake was regular at this bar so was Chrys, The bartender gave a small look to Chrys that pretty much said, "If you're going to fight, then get the hell out of here and do it somewhere else." Chrys was so screwed. This was going to be fucking wonderful. "But still, if you want to let off steam, go right ahead. I won't mind being pummeled. So go ahead, send me to oblivion." He offered the male a chance to beat him up right then and there. "H-hey, you're being k-kinda rash." Chrys warned seeing the bartender give off a murderous aura.

"I know what I'm doing so just shut up and enjoy my cute little actor." He looked back up to the person in front of him with captivating sea blue eyes and flashed an almost alluring smile. Obviously, Blake knew he was handsome and knew how to use it.

Andries had long forgotten about the money, concerned over what fight his friend may get into. Roles reveresed, he tried to drag his friend away before their names were penned down in the bartender's black book. And they had been in a few black books before. Deamion seemed far too annoyed to just back down peacefully though, gritting his teeth as the guy decided to get back up in his face with that pearly white smile and his idiotic blue eyes. He should've aimed for those grandfather glasses of him and have the shards shoved up his- "I don't fight a coward's friends." He spat back at him, glaring back at those demure little eyes. Bastards orbs of blue. Oh he did wanna punch him again, but a tug on his arm told him to leave it for the punching bag at home.

"Stop hiding behind your rich clumsy lil friends trying to play wingman." He growled, turning on his heel. Giving the man full view of his all too well viewed behind as he sauntered away, still rubbing his knuckles. "I told you I hated all the pricks at the bar." He muttered to his friend who just rolled his eyes and clasped a hand on his shoulder, grinning, "That's why we're just gonna have to find you a sophisticated guy! Lamest trick in the book though that was, as if I'd ever leave you alone to be fed on by the sharks. Come on, let's go to Chapron. I know a guy who can let us in, we're bound to find someone there!"

"I told you no more bars." "This one's different! Only the known and friends of the known get in there! We're bound to find someone you like enough." He blabbered on loudly. Dean ion just rolled his eyes and just let him be led on towards the next bar. If anything, he could at least have someone buy him a few drinks.

Slap.

There was this sickeningly loud smacking sound that echoed across the bar. The sound of clinking glasses accompanied the loud slap. Blake looked almost surprised, looking at his cute little friend in front of him, who had a look of almost pure disgust on his face. "Who the hell do you think you are?! Some sorta person made out of gold with his life fed to him with a silver spoon? It was obvious he was having a bad day! Not everyone is your toy, you know!" Chrys lectured angrily, he had limits too. Blake looked at the angry orbs of chocolate beneath him. "Look, I don't care, how you do it but go there and apologise to the two right now. Do something about this idiocy right now! HAVE I MADE MYSELF CLEAR WHITLEA!?" Chrys was pretty mad, to be honest, Chrys was terrifying when he was extremely mad, this was only a touch of his anger. Blake was about to pray until he saw a mischievous twinkle in his shorter friend's brown eyes. Damn, he was a good actor.

Getting out of his state of total shock, he put on his glasses again. Looking at his ex lover with an almost sad look. "A-a-alright... I'll see what I can do." Blake nodded submissively as he ran into the direction of the pair of friends. Giving a small wink as he left as his little shota of a friend gave a knowing look that said, "This is the last time I'm helping you so screw you." Blake caught up to the others soon enough, not caring about the red maks on his cheeks. "Hey.... Uh... Hey, look sorry about earlier. I was being insensitive and was being a huge dick. Uh... If you want a good place to go to for drinks, I know a place that'll give you discounts and VIP access as long as you're with me." Blake offered sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his head, looking a down so he could add the touch of humility. "It's only down the road from here... So um..." What was being so sheepish for? He was extremely handsome rich and sexy, so he should flaunt it right? It was there again, the shock of violet that flew ever so gently across the the two.

They both turned as the man caught up with them, one with an angry glare and the other with a pique of curiosity. Deamion's mouth pressed in a thin cruel line before he opened it to begin berating the man. Hadn't he already gotten the message that they weren't at all interested in whatever he had to dish out. However, before he could even utter a single syllable, he found a hand pressed tightly against his mouth an Andries pressing a warning hand against his back. Regarding the man with a foxy grin, Andries purred, "Really now? Discount doesn't often go with VIP privacy you know. And you think a few drinks are gonna fix up my poor friend who you so rudely treated on his very own birthday! Now, I think that warrants more than just a drink, we want a good time out."

"Mph." He growled, muffled against Andries' hand, which he was now threatening to bite. Andries just smiled and slung an arm around his waist, ignoring the steady glare half aimed at him and the other. "It s free drinks love, and a good time out! Smile!" He whispered to his friend before he let go of him and gestured for the man to lead the way for them. "Ah, but first." He removed his wine stained shirt, revealing the fishnet singlet under his shirt. Throwing the stained rag into some god forsaken alleyway, he slung an arm around Deamiom's shoulders and pulled the taller along with him as they followed the man.

Sighing, he decided to just roll with it. At the very least he could get a few free drinks from the sucker right? Expensive free drinks if he found his way onto a rich man's lap. Whether he let anyone take him home depended on what he felt like after a few dozen shots.

He judged their reactions for a second. Understanding one was definitely mad, he laughed self-deprisively. This was going to be fun. Hearing the man with the wet shirt, complain and bargain about his place, he wanted to sigh just a tad, well then he heard it was tri-coloured hair boy's birthday. Shoot. Looks like he has to comply. This was a pain, even if it was just one screw, not like it will actually mean anything right? Might as well. Watching the guy put his hand on his freind's mouth then slid to his waist and then he took his shirt off, revealing his mesh-like singlet underneath the stained.

"H-huh? It's your birthday? Well... I feel really bad now, aha..." He scratched the back of his head, ruffling his fingers through his light brown hair. Brrrrrriiiiiiing. That would be his phone, looking at the caller ID. It was his bar manager, the one he was going to take them to. He hated when this happened, this meant he'd had to speak in Japanese. Grabbing his phone from his right pocket, Blake put the device towards his ear. "Moshi moshi? Ara, Kito-san. Doushita no? Mou... Hai. Wakarimashita. Hai. Saa, jan ne." With a little click he slid it back into the pocket of navy blue slacks. "Alright, let's go. First off though, I need your names considering I need to put your names on the VIP list. The drinks will be free with top service. My name is Ken- I mean, Blake Whitlea. Sorry for getting off the wrong foot earlier." Blake could be modest too! Like right now, when he wasn't busy flirting, he was much more normal. Putting on a cute and dazzling smile, he started to walk to the building he owned.

"It'll be fun..." He muttered, slinging his arms over Deamion's shoulders, he hugged him from behind and sang in his ear. The taller rolling his eyes in his friend's general direction, grumbling when Andries ruffled his hair. It took him hours to get it right. Pushing the younger off of him, he struggled to rearrange it according to colours. He didn't bleach and dye everything to have messed up hair. Turning his back on the both of them, he considered fishing out his phone and using his camera as a mirror, but he wasn't that vain or at least he didn't want to appear that vain. Meanwhile, Andries continued to cling onto his back until the guy was done mumbling into his phone and finally addressed them.

"Andries Resietch, at your service, excuse my irritable friend Deamion. He's having a hard day on his birthday. You better make it worth both out whiles. Show us both a good night out tonight and maybe you can be out sugar daddy." Andries broke out into a laughter, prompting Deamion to dish out his signature eye roll at his friend's casual attitude towards near every god damn thing. Walking, half piggy backing Andries, he followed the man to a big old brick building, that he at first mistook for a shophouse type of bar, until he realized that the whole building was the 'whole' bar.

"Geez, who has this much money?" He murmured to himself, wondering how many private rooms fit into those floors. It was like some sleazy motel, only fancier and filled with jiving rave music. It wasn't all too bad, he could get into it. Especially if it was VIP only, less people he had to shove past. Near too dazzled, he almost forgot to follow the guy-Blake inside. Tugging a giddy Andries, he kept close to him as the bouncer inspected them by the door.

He really should get a paint job for the place. The bricks were looking horrendous! That was really the first though that went through Blake's superficial mind. Paint. Maybe he should paint it violet or something. It would really brighten up the place from the bland and disgusting brown red it was now. "Sugar daddy? I'd rather not.... A-anyways, the place has whatever you want in it, it's more like an amusement park with alcohol. There's for literally everything, Arcade games, bowling, dancing and partying. You name it. But the main room is the party area where a lot of people like to be." Blake explained casually as he adjusted his glasses ever so slightly. "Also, getting this money was hard but it really paid off. Wanna know how I did it sweetie?" Addressing Daemion's supposed murmur, then again Blake was pretty observant. Walking by the bouncer, with a small nod as the bouncer gave a very revered look towards him. He was a rich man after all, he had to be respected. Walking in as the multiple showered the room in an array of explosive lights, he watched as people like famous artists, actors and even some politicians walked around the place, drinking and having a lot of fun. He hasn't been in here for so long. He should come by more often with Chrys.

"Welcome to Heaven's Desire. Please, if you wish to request a room so it is only you three, feel free to tell me,." A man in a nice butler outfit came by with a foraml speech and tone, greeted the group of boys to the bar? Nightclub? Establishment was probably the best word. "Ah, Keith, keep up the good work. We'll be fine, if anything, I'll take them to a room myself." Blake replied to the young and cute worker with a simple and affirmative answer. With a meek smile, the butler left off to serve other people. Blake let his ears blend in the sounds around him. The music was nice, a smooth and classy song was playing in the background, it wasn't loud but it was definitely audible. People were chattering about their personal lives and the sounds of glasses clinking and liquid splashing were all mixed in one. He missed this place. The bar was just ahead of them by a few meters, with a small wave the bartender invited the guys over. "So, if you're up for it, grab a few drinks will you? Don't worry about paying, so go ahead and do whatever, Just don't blow up the place." Blake offered the pair with a trusting wink. The drinks would be fun, although from what he had gathered, flirting was to be kept at minimum unless he wanted even more marks on his already scarred face. Well, looks like a thousand marks will be on his body tonight. This was just great.

Deamion met Blake's answer with a glare, his question not meant to be taken seriously. Even greater was knowing that the guy he had punched was some rich prick. At the very least, he hadn't been marched Steiger to jail for assault or something. Turning his gaze to the ground, he pulled Andries in with him and he immediately, he was the one having his arm near yanked out. Andries didn't even seem to wait and listen to the guy, already rushing off to the bar and into a seat next to a singled out target with hard liquor in his hand. Deamion who lingered behind to observe the place and listen to the guy babble over the music, prayed that he didn't have to drag Andries home tonight from a grabby stranger. It had been a long time since either of them got stoned out drunk, but he didn't trust Andries to behave around rich pockets and richer drinks.

Thank god that he came back a few moments later and stuffed a cold glass into his hands. He sipped it, finding it was nothing but strawberry flavored soda water. He guessed Andries didn't want him drowning his sorrows in alcohol after all. "Let's get a private room and away from these sissies. Then, we're throwing you the best birthday party ever! Lead the way Mr Blake!" Andries near shouted, drawing a few stares though more people were staring over at Blake and the deep bruise forming on his cheek. Already, Andries was tugging them out of sight up the stairs leading to the private rooms upstairs. Deamion really didn't mind, he hated crowds and the music was sort of giving him a headache despite not being the usual pounding rave and techno beat he was used to.

Sipping his drink, he paused again as they were brought into another room. Geez the place looked bigger on the inside than it did outside, though Andries seemed to have targeted one of the VIP rooms, taking full advantage of Mr punching bag it seemed. Arcade game, tv, dance floor...love seat and bed in the corner. He was tired though, he could use a lie down, "Let's have our own private party up here! You know what? I'm gonna go down stairs and hunt a few studs to bring up here and when I get back, you better have already started the party without me!" He pushed Deamion in, nearly causing him to spill his drink, and shut the door behind him.

He was left along with Mr blue cheek. Sighing, he plodded over and sat on the bed tucked away in the corner. Sitting on the edge and facing the wall, he really did feel tired. And the mattress was surprisingly soft underneath him, prompting a happy sigh. He glanced back at Blake.

Blake's blue eyes watched as the two entered one of the private rooms. Shouldn't he be telling them th-. Never mind. No point. Back to the main event, Blake was simply following them, he had to make sure they were okay. They might be guest, but who knows what he might do. The man whose birthday today was definetly intruging, he didn't fall for rich man's tricks and even punched him. Personally, playing hard to get was annoying but this one made it interesting. With a small lick of his lips, he sat down on the love seat with grace, somehow. Despite, wanting to just go up to the tri-colored man and hug him ever so gently as they fell into peaceful bliss, he had to resist the urge as stared into the screen in front of him with a look of thoughtfulness. Letting his eyes wander around the room, he realised a lot of the place was actually purple, he liked purple. "Maybe I should add some blue or indigo to spice the place up." He said out loud as he stared at the monochrome room. Getting up a little, he actually just saw Andries leave the place talking about finding hot guys or something. Weren't most of the guys like together or something? Shrugging a little, he took of the annoying navy blue blazer he was wearing. It was hot, plus he liked light clothing better. Questioning why he even was wearing this, he decided to unbutton his white dress shirt ever so slightly. He unbuttoned it enough to let people see his nice chest but enough to make people want more. His fair skin only helped to emphasize his seductiveness.

Turning back to the Daemion, who was lying on the bed, he saw his blue eyes met up with his. With a smile only Blake could pull off, never mind the bruise, he was sexy that's all that matters, he looked at him a bit cluesslessy. "Something wrong? I hope not, I want you to enjoy yourself. It's birthday after all isn't it?" He asked with his deep voice as he walked over and sat on the edge of the soft bed. "Hey, do you want anything from here? I'll get it for you, whatever drink, food, accessory, you name it. It'll be like a birthday gift from me. Haha!" His charming laughter filled the room as his smile continued on. Even so, he wasn't sure if it was the lights or sparkles, but lately there was something violet fluttering gently in the room.

He ignored him for the most part. Kicking off his black boots, he pulled his feet up onto the bed. The soft sheets feeling good against his toes, ticklish under his bare feet. The silence ticking by the two of them near painfully and he fished his phone out of his jean pocket. Searching through his list of songs, he sought for one that would lull him to sleep. He just couldn't fall asleep in absolute silence, no matter how much he tried. He always needed his window open to the traffic down below or his phone loud and playing or the gentle breathing of a lover. Either way, he needed white noise and not the incessant blabber of some idiot.

He felt the bed dip while he decided to forgo his list of songs and use the internet instead. Raising an eyebrow at the free wifi while his page loaded. He turned his head to glare at the man, keeping a poker face to his laughter. Looking bored even as he looked over the other's broad chest. Really it wasnt surprising though he wondered just how much the plastic surgery. It was probably a drop of water in the vast ocean of wealth theguy was probably skinny dipping in.

"I dont need anything from you." He muttered, hitting the first video that popped up in the music grouping. Near immediately, the words rang out loudly from some korean or japanese song, migi kata ni murasaki chōcho kiss o shita kono heya no sumi de setsunai to iu kanjō o shiru hibiku piano fuk- He grimaced and swiped it away, picking a video with a thumbnail of a piano instead. The long haunting notes filling the room before playing off into a faster beat. It would have to do. He sighed and left his phone by the bed side table, turning to tell Blake to get off the bed and off his case. Instead, he paused and blinked, then turned away and rubbed his eyes. Turning back to the man, he could swear he had seen a....nevermind.

"Everything you buy doesnt count if you own the place anyway."

Boots were kicked as the guy went on his phone. Texting someone maybe?" I don't own the place, I manage it. I might be rich but I think hard work should be rewarded! So I work hard to get all this under my belt. If you're thinknng I have plastic surgery, I don't. I work hard." Blake explained cheerfully, though if you looked ever so closely, there wa ssmall smirk. Denial of anything? Cuuuuute. As the music played ever so strangely, he listened to it with mild interest. "Isn't that Butterfly on Your Right Shoulder? Ah~ That was a nice song to sing." Blake remembered as his voice was filled with slight nostalgia. The piano slowly filled the empty room. It sounded like it would bounce off the walls and into his brain. Let the music entrance him ever so slightly, let it disappear off the path and take with him it. "Haha.. You're a strange one." He breathed almost inaudibly. "If I buy something for someone, I feel good, knowing I made someone happy. If I buy something knowing it will help me, I feel satisfied. It might not count but the feeling that accompanies it does. It makes me human." He explained in a wistful manner. It wasn't nice to feel inhuman. He knew that off by heart.

Turning back, he saw it. He really saw it. He sure it wasn't his imagination, not all. It fluttered, leaving a trail of purple as fluttered in the room. "So, I did see it. Wow, it's almost quite funny." The gazillionare spoke out, with disbelief strung between his words. He was captivated by the beauty of it, it's violet glow, it flutter of it's beautiful wings. It would fly around the room ever so slightly. He could hear in the background, a voice. A feminine one, he didn't see any girls outside so who was it. "There was a purple butterfly, on your right shoulder. Even though we kissed, I knew my heart would grow colder. Then why is the only memory left is this heartbreaking pain? Echoing pianos make me go insane." These lyrics... They were his weren't they? He heared all ring in his mind, the pianos rebounded as his head spun around. He wasn't drunk he knew that. His blue eyes were mixed with the shining violet. The pretty insect floated ever so slightly, slowly, onto Deamion's shoulder. His right one at that.

Was he possesed? Why was he moving forward slowly, towards Deamion? The purple butterfly beckoned him. He couldn't control himself, he just couldn't. Why? What on earth was going on? He didn't even realise that his face only was a breath away from Deamion. "I-I'm sorry...." He could only breathe out those two words weakly. He closed the gap and he placed a hand on the male's cheek, cupping it softly. His lips were on his, he didn't know why. He didn't know what was the warmth he felt was. He didn't know kissing a total stranger could send him into hell He didn't know this moment was the one which sent him into an unparalleled nightmare. All he knew, it was him, Deamion, the purple butterfly and the faint taste of strawberries.

He rolled his eyes. This guy talked far too much and was just unbelievable. He turned to sip at his drink, savoring the taste, he took a melting cube of ice into his mouth for a moment. Its chill burning his lips and biting at his gums. Lips glossed over with the sweet melting ice. Running down his throat like fine wine, he set down his glass and turned to berate the guy again. Tell him to shut up and buzz off. However, as his eyes met Blake's once more, he froze. Something gripping and holding him down. He licked his lips and averted his gaze, cherry red lips swelled from him worry away at it so much, parting in bitter poisons, "Can't you just leave me alone?" He croaked out softly, the distant sound of the piano repeated behind him, "I don't need to take any of what you want to give me."

"I don't need any of your nonsense or your teasings. I don't care for what you have to say nor what you're intending with all of this." The lights dimming, a spotlight upon a moment, "You can't lure me into anything or whatever sick plan you have." A little show, puppets on strings willed together. Words hanging meaninglessly in the air, fading along with a dwindling space, "I'm not another one of your gold digger friends looking for your pity, im not even your friend." Hurriedly, to fill the space, noises rush out without purpose. No thought to fly away, no force against a gentle breeze nor lips sealed too tight. Loosely, the sweet air shimmered like dewdrops suspended in a spider's web.

Inhibitions lost, confident lips tremble and words fall away. A warm touch upon cold skin. The ruddy end of violet upon rounded cheeks. Softness on softness. Glossed lips receive warmly. A dissonance in one's head. The delicate wings of a butterfly trembled and were pushed back onto a soft bed.

All he could do was slowly let the blue eyes reveal themselves as he awoke from a strange slumber. He looked around, the sheet were dry, he had his clothes on.He was next to a complete stranger, who appeared to be in complete bliss. His clothes were on too. Strange, he could've sworn... "A violet butterfly flutters gently in the room, landing upon your right shoulder as we shared a kiss-". His phone was- Hey, that wasn't his ringtone. But it was coming from his phone. The violet appeared to have disappeared, leaving his vison in a normal state. "H-hello? Blake speaking." He breathed into the device, his voice barely having any sound. What was going on here!? "Blake, we have a problem. A girl has turned up, she wants to see you. She says she has something that can jeopardize your entire company. Get to Angel Mort as soon as possible." With wide blue eyes, he turned to look at his intimate partner. "Understood, I'll be there as soon as possible." Shaking his head, he simply got up and ran out the room door, letting his blue eyes glance at the angelic sleeping figure.

He was in perfect condition more or less, even after such an indecent act, he still was able to look his best. Somehow, he looked like he just had a normal night. Impossible, he knew what happened, then why? He was currently on the side walk to Angel Mort, a resturant known for it's dleicious cakes and it's... unique uniform. "Man, what the hell... A-ah... Aaaaaaaaaarggggh!" His head was cursed with a sudden pain so unimaginable. It crushed his psyche and ripped out his own state of mind, forcing him to kneel down to the cold hard pavement. "Wh-what... the... A-aaaaaaah!" It came down like a brick, a ten thousand kilogram one at that. "Hah.... Hah... Hah..." His tears fell out, dripping onto his fair skin as they ran down his cheeks like blood, blood from own mind. "I-it hurts... Aaaaaaaaaaargh!" Again, it attacked him even more. "Sir! Are you alright!?" A girl voiced her concern, he didn't care, the pain was the real focus. He could feel a string of saliva start to drip out of his mouth. "I-I'm... fine! J-just a... small... migraine.. Hah..." He breathed out and looked up, a girl with an angelic beauty could only describe her. Her big, innocent cobalt eyes filled with worry, her round face as well as her light ash hair, tied into two corkscrew ponytails. Suddenly, the pain stopped. "Hah... I'm sorry... to... Hah... worried you Miss..." He just ran off, leaving the flat chested lady looking at him with a confused look.

He woke up slowly, the sideways room starting to focus in his vision. His mind slowly registering the cold sting against his bare skin, ending in soft silken sheets. Awoke by the sudden coldness, he was more than content to just lie in bed until he was too cold to bear it anymore. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes and groaned softly as his body started to protest to his actions, sore and achy. Pulling away the sheets, he grimaced at the mess of hand shaped bruises littered across his skin, starting to yellow over and really burn. Groaning, he turned, expecting to find a similarly scratched up partner by his bedside, instead finding a cooling indent in the mattress. Ah, he had intended to leave first, but he guessed it didn't matter. At the very least, the melting ice of his drink remained on the bedside desk, helping him soothe his sore throat. His head pounding slightly in a merciful hangover. He checked the drawer, hoping to find maybe some aspirin or-huh, not even a phone number left behind. Taken he wouldn't have bothered to take one, but he thought he was a better fuck than that.

Ah, at least, he had enjoyed himself, at least he believed he did. His tired body was a little too tuckered out to really register the intensity of the night before, but if he was this tired, it couldn't have all been from his drinking. Shoulders popping as he stretched and groaned, he slid of the bed and promptly fell flat on his face. Oh damn, it fucking hurt! Right, right, he was starting to remember a little of what had gone on last night. Dragging himself back up to his feet, he grumbled and gathered up his clothing. Where the heck was Andries? He had probably done the sensible thing and gone home or something. He should follow his lead and call a cab back, then take a good hot shower and take a whole day off to Die lie in bed and sleep off his pain and headache.

Slowly shuffling out of the room, the bright sunlight was an enemy to his eyes and the traffic a scurge to his ears. He was in the cab halfway home when his phone rang with some foreign unknown ring tone. Too tired to question it, he answered to Andries who insisted that they meet up for lunch and properly celebrate his birthday with a real cake and all. Well, he was glad his friend was fine, but his timing was terrible.

After a much needed shower and aspirin, he forced himself into more casual clothes and up to 'Angel's Morts'; rather expensive, but if Andries was gonna treat him, then he wouldn't question it too-*BANG* He turned the corner and ended up being knocked over by a runner, "Fuck, watch it." He growled, glaring up at-"Oh, it's you."

He had to get to Angel Mort, he had to get to Angel Mort. With that, he smashed into a familiar face. Knocked down by his own speed, he fell down onto his behind, Fuck it hurt, getting up and not caring about the pain he looked at he poor man he knocked over. "A-ah! I'm sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going. Ah, well my prince, I need to be off, if you want to speak about anything I'll be at Angel Mort down the road." With a hasty goodbye, his legs took off as he pushed his way through the crowds of people. The sun was being hostile, yet again. Why is it on sunny days like this, something always happens? Dammit.

Panting, he reached the door of the wonderful restaurant. With big fancy script, the words "Angel Mort" were at the top of the building. It wasn't too big but it wasn't too small either. It seems like a family restaurant but it most definitely isn't. Just one look at those uniforms... "C-chrys? I'm here!" He called out as he opened the wooden door, letting a small chime go through the store. With cute eyes, his spiky haired friend waved to him and gestured to him to come over, with a girl. A girl with long, shimmering violet hair and deep emerald eyes that is. Her figure was well endowed, her face was sleek, as her eyes slanted upwards, giving her a very regal feel. Her expression was unamused, she toyed with her hair as indigo butterfly lied on top of her hair. She just screamed out total bitch. "I assume you are the lady, the one who knows how to bring the great Whitlea Co. down?" His voice hissed out in an obviously annoyed tone. She glanced back, looking at the rich CEO, bored. "That I am, might I ask, you know how to sleep around right? You've also just experienced a chronic headache no?" Her voice deep, with a British accent to boot. He looked at her with a puzzled look, how did she know about the headache? Impossible... Unless...

"You are the purple butterfly I saw last night aren't you!?" His voice almost reaching a screaming point, Chrys gave him one glare and he sat down. He knew not to get on Chrys' bad side. "I'm afraid I have no idea about what you are talking about. That purple entity and me are separate beings. Shame on you for thinking so." Blake looked at the woman, she was not human in the metaphorical sense that is. She just couldn't be, how did she know about the purple butterfly? With a glare he stared at the woman. "How the hell do you know this?" Blake was not amused, he asked her. With a confident smirk, she gave an icy look. "Look, I'll get to the point, I am not a human. I need protection, you are known to be very reliable. So, for that, I seek for your protection. Obviously, this has a price. That chronic headache you just experienced? I can stop it from re-occuring." She was blunt. Blake just looked at her with a pissed off look. Was this whore joking? Not human his ass. "I don't get it, prove to me you aren't human." Chrys was just looking at the scene with blank eyes. He didn't seemed to surprised.

"Very well, in the next few minutes, the person you bumped into will come into this store in the next few minutes." She seemed to full of herself, with one violet eye closed with her porcelain arms folded. What was this girl thinking?