Episode 12 - A rainy night...

*T-Roll's mom takes a tour of the AYTO house while questioning anyone she meets along the way*

Tim: It was really kind of you to help me find my match Mrs. T, I was beginning to think i was never gonna find someone.

Mom: Noh worry meh little festering bog toad, Meh will finds yoush a perfects match. Jusht gotta find someones suitable forsh a charming young man likesh yourshelf.

Tim: I'm justs a little worried you will, You know... Scare everyone away by jumping out from behind corners and questioning them.

Mom: Yoush talk too much, Let meesh work mah magik.

*T-Roll's mom sneaks up behind Laurey who is walking past*

Laurey: *Sniffs the air* OMG, What is that smell?

 *Laurey turns around to see T-Lady and is scared by how close T-Roll's mom is*

Laurey: Who the heck are you?

Mom: Whatsh it too ya? *T-Lady sniffs Laurey*

Laurey: Like, You stink of rotten eggs!

Mom: Hmmm, Yoush will do. Yoush be Tim's match?

Laurey: What? Him? No way! I'm already spoken for...

Mom: Yoush want a fight?

Laurey: Get away, I'm not fighting you. You are like 100 years old or something.

Mom: Eck! Lemonsh lady too sour to be match, Letsh try someplaces else.

Tim: Um, Mrs. T... I appreciate the help and all but you are kinda ruining my chances here.

Mom: Nonsense, I ish best matchmaker in alls of Moonlight Fallsh. I ish also best agony aunt, I will solves yoursh problems in love.

Tim: Oh God, please dont. *Looks nervous*

*T-Lady takes Tim to the dining roon where some of the contestants are eating lunch*

Mom: *Shouting* Whos here will be ish Tim's match?

Tim: Please stop, You are embarrissing me.

Mom: *Shouting at Victoria who is trying to eat there lunch* You! You be Tim's match?

Victoria: *Rolling her eyes sarcastically* Sure, If you say so...

 Tim: This is just making things worse, I'm going to my room.

*Tim walks off back to his room*

Mom: Ungratefull boysh, He not know good matchmaker when he see's one. *Sighs* Anyone's else need a matchmaker?






"Well, I don't think that Victoria will change that much, she will still be the diva she is. But I do believe her that she is sorry for the harsh things, and that kinda counts. Even though we are close to an end, I still didn't lose hope to find my perfect match here, as long as it isn't Russel or Maxwell *laughs*.


Actually, I wouldn't mind Tim, even though there is an age difference, he is really funny. I wonder thought how Larry will end up, even though he wasn't always that nice, I kinda feel sorry for him. But I found so many things, a former friend from University, many new friends, involving a new best friend with Colleen. I would say this show was worth my time *laughs*:

 Lavender moans as she turns under the covers at midnight.

Her eyes flip open, expecting darkness.

She gasps as she beholds the truth. A dim golden light fills her room. She glances to her bedside table.

A young flame beats beside her: A citronella candle. Tears of wax flow down the sides in burning, choking stillness. Lavender smiles at its soft dance.

Her eyes slide shut under her flame's ethereal shade.






Larry and Andi are sitting by the bar, chatting while having a few drinks.

Larry: Okay, what can you tell me about yourself that not a lot of people know?

Andi: I don't think I'm drunk enough to tell you something like that, haha.

Larry: Well, you know what you gotta do if you can't answer my question.

Andi stares into her glass hesitatingly, before resolutely putting it down on the bar.

Andi: Okay, okay. You already know I came to the show looking for "the one". But, there's another reason...

Larry: And that is?

Andi: Well, I always wanted to do the deed...

Larry: ...

Andi: ...In five different places. With five different people.

Larry: ...Wow. And how many times have you done it?

Andi: I've definitely done it with more than five people before. But come to think of it, I can only count 4 different places.

Sergeant comes running by, chased by the Lemon-Limes repeatedly shouting out "kinky". A brief moment of silence passes as Andi and Larry are dumbfounded.

Larry: ...I'll say. So, what's the weirdest place you've done it in?

Andi: You first.

Larry: In a sound stage. But it was just the two of us at the time. You?

Andi: In a food truck. The guy I was dating owned one. It wasn't much fun getting condiments all over your body.

Larry laughs heartily on hearing this.

Larry: Oh my God! That's amazing. You're amazing. So, you think I can be number 5? ;)

Andi, although visibly red already, visibly blushes.

Andi: Maybe. You know, I've always wanted to do it in France. Maybe in a secluded part of the Louvre.

Larry: There's an idea. OH. Speaking of ideas, I just got one. Follow me.

Larry and Andi get up and go to the common area, where everyone is currently hanging out.

Larry and Andi enter the common area, while everyone is busy chatting or having fun among themselves.

Larry: Hey! Is anyone here in the mood for strip poker? Laureo? Lavender?

Laurey: Screw harassing Sergeant. This is way more fun.

Laureo: And kinky.

Lavender: Hmm...have I had enough wine to agree to this? Yep. Count me in. Alani, join us!

Alani: I...well...

Lavender: It'll be fun! And if we're lucky, we might end up seeing a bunch of half-naked guys.

Alani: I guess I can play a few rounds.

Lavender: Great! Now we just need to add guys to the equation.

T-roll: Me wantsh to play! Tim too!

Momma T-roll: T-roll! I didn't raishe you like thish! You forgot to invite yur own mother to a poker game!

T-roll: Shorry momma...

Lillian: Gerry! Let's join!

Gerard: I don't know about this...

Larry: Come on, Gerry. Gerry-bear. Whaddaya say?

Gerard: Please don't call me that...

Lillian: Gerry-bear! I love it! Come on, Gerry-bear, let's have a little fun! I rarely get to let loose.

Gerard: I...well...I guess I can play a bit.

Lillian: Wonderful!

Scot: I'm in.

Larry: Okay, that's 12 people. I think we can split ourselves among a bunch of tables.

Everyone proceeds to play a little poker, slowly entering various states of undress.

Gerard: I cannot believe this is happening right now. :|

Lillian and Andi giggle.

Gerard is notably one of the first people to be in nothing but his underwear.

Larry: Hey, cheer up. Maybe you'll get lucky the next round.

At another table...

Scot: Alright, Lavender. Take it off.

Lavender: It's just a shoe. Don't get too excited. Alani! You're so good, you hustler. I never knew.

Alani: A few of my fellow lifeguards played some games with me when we wanted to pass the time.

Momma T-roll: Oh, how excshiting! I think I'm cleaning up rightsh now.

And yet another table...

Laureo: Alright, T-roll! I get to either bite your ear or set your pants on fire!

T-roll: Me ish afraid of being on fire.

Laurey: Oh, Laureo, you kinky little shit! I knew you had a lot of your grandma in you. If you want, maybe I can lend you T-roll for one night in the dungeon. ;)

T-roll: Dungeon! Ooosh I likesh dungeonsh.

Tim: It's...a different kind of dungeon, T-roll.

T-roll: What you meansh?

Tim whispers into T-roll's ear.

T-roll: WHAT!?! You ish crazy! Me ish not doing thoshe thingsh!

Laureo: Okay guys! It's midnight! It's grams birthday!

Everyone: Happy birthday to you! Woot! *drinks*

Laurey: Cheers! let the party begins!

Mom: Whatsh goish on here? I justsh goesh to the loosh... Ansh nowsh yoush all drunks...

T-Roll: Momma... Look! It's Laurey's 70th birthdaysh... Comsh hash a drink!

Mom: Awesomsh! Whersh meish!

Alani lays among the orange of her room. She fondly recalls the day orange became not her favorite color, but her happy color. She was unwell and unhappy because of it. Her long hair was braided in two thick ropes, her smile missing a few teeth, and her cereal seemed very unappealing. It was her eldest brother who sat down across from her and pushed a cold glass of orange juice towards the eight year old girl. With a promise that orange with make her happy, as it infused with the shining sun and powerful ocean waves. So everyday since then she has found a happiness in orange trees and wedges.

She spent these weeks on AYOT downing orange juice like it was oxygen and she spent all night staring at the colors on the furniture but it just couldn't seem to bring her happiness. Alani was still anxious about love, this expierence of AYTO had not encouraged her anymore about the idea of love. So the prospect that tomorrow she will be defined as someone's soulmate was making her upset. Then she remembers what else would help her when she feels upset. Writing.

Alani picks up a pad of paper and a pen and began to write to Berry. A full length story of her life in Hawaii, her dead boyfriend, and her constant feeling if heartbreak over the feeling of loving another.

And as she signs the letter with a fancy signature, she gathers the papers together and seals them in an envelope.

She then takes it outside and looks up at the sky. It's dark, she was writing later than she thought.

Alani had a quick move of igniting the fire pit and throwing the envelope into the flames as kindling.

As Alani prods the growing fire someone approaches the pit and sits next to her.

Berry: "Hey, you alright? We haven't seen you in a few hours."

Alani glances up at Berry, the one who found her out here among the stars and a fire.

Alani: "Berry, there is something I must confess."

. . .

Alani: "When I awoke from the shock, I was in a hospital. After some time a doctor told me that he had been deceased for hours. Ever since then I have been wary of love. And I hope you understand this Berry. I like you, really I do. You have been wonderful and I hoped that maybe AYTO would have helped me get over that but-"

Berry stops her by gently taking her long, nimble fingers between his and gently placing a kiss to them.

Berry: "Of course. It'd be silly of me to ask you to forget him. Thank you for telling me Alani, it must be hard to talk about"

She nods and smiles softly at the dentist, "thank you for listening"

Berry: Now I've got a surprise for you...

Alani: For me?

Berry: Yep for your birthday...

"So, I think Alani is the one for me. I overheard production talking about today being Alani's birthday. I used some tooth fairy to make her a birthday cake and I gave her a gift in the form on a snow globe. As it turns out, Alani totally forgot that today was her birthday and she was thankful for that."

The clock on the wall ticks lightly as Nael glides soundlessly past. Thunder rumbles musically beyond the quiet walls. The door cracks smoothly open.


The first few flecks of rain patter down as he steps into the night.

The moon is not full, and the stars are not out, but Lavender is. A chilly wind snakes through the dark alleyway, hissing, throwing flecks of rain and ice into Lavender's wild mane.

A motorcar screams past, cutting trenches in stagnant puddles tearing from equilibrium. Lavender cries out and covers her ears. Something wild runs past her, knocking her sideways, and slamming her into a nearby wall. Stumbling on high heels she loses her balance and falls awkwardly. She sinks into a puddle, and wallows in the ice for a moment, then rises with shaking legs, using the wall for support.

She takes a breath, and casts her eyes up as another car rushes past, its stereo blaring loudly out of open windows.

Nael drifts on, some way ahead of her, but not totally out of sight. Blinking raindrops out of her eyes, she skips easily over a rippling puddle and continues her advance.

The shadows sing a rasping harmony as they dodge smoky beams. Streetlights up ahead scar with healing rays, coughing up purity and pestilence, giving darkness over darkness. Nael's eyes spark and shine with dull ambivalence, reflecting the dark glow back in a rainbow of fog and whiteness. He drifts on in the scarred light of blackness, a solo duet, devoid of harmony.

A door hangs open on its hinges, fleeing brightness pouring out, rejected and jarring, dejected and scarring. The balance of the dark is upheld, upset. Open chatter and screaming laughter painfully stabs the air from beyond the dilapidated threshold. A glass shatters unbroken and splinters as Nael crosses and enters.

Nael seats unsettled before a naked table, rough and sanded. His gaze is drawn by the darkness beyond the intactly broken doors. Around him people lose and win, drink thirst and make miserable merry.


A band plays in the corner, out of tune, out of sync. An erratic beat, unnoticed-- A screaming, bleeding heart. Outside there is stillness and storm. No stars, no moon.

A woman's figure stands before the threshold, one hand clasping a broken door. Silhouetted against the darkness, and drenched in cold and ice, she shivers. A few heads turn to look at her, before returning to their casual business. Nael's waxy fingers knit together when he recognizes Lavender.

She stands frozen in place, locking eyes with his. Held fast by the pull of the twin blue moons.

She takes a step forward, then another. Quicker and quicker, beat on beat. He does not react as she stands before his table.

Lavender: Nael. Can I sit, Nael?

Met with silence she hesitates, then sits, knitting her fingers together to mirror Nael's.


She clears her throat nervously, and looks slowly around her, then snaps her head back. Nael's eyes seem to gaze through her, as moonlight through glass.

Lavender: Do you come here often, then?

Lavender: ....

Feeling foolish, Lavender sighs. Her gaze drops to the table. Food stains pattern the rough wood, like flowers in the mud, drowning in the coolth. She shivers again.

Her eyes are on his hands when she speaks.

Lavender: I don't know the way home, so you're stuck with me, I guess.

Lavender: ....

Lavender: I... I followed you.

She casts her eyes up to meet his, but they are once more shadowed by his brim. She follows his line of sight to her own hands. She resists the urge to hide them under the table.

Lavender: Won't you speak to me?

And then she hears it. Harmony upon harmony of nothing and all, empty bells ringing full melodies of quiet and shroud. Restful and invigorating, healing and hurting, tragedy and tranquility. Silence blesses her for an eternal instant, before melting in her ice.

She sighs.

A smiling waitron approaches the table, brandishing two glasses: Milk and water.

Waitron: On the house, of course.

He turns to Lavender, worry touching his face.

Waitron: Good evening, lady.

He says, then backs away.

Lavender looks across the table, confused. Nael stares at the glass put before him, liquid starlight, moonbeams chilled. Absorbed in its uniformity.

Lavender, knowing that she is now second banana, takes the opportunity to examine Nael's clothing.

His suit is of rich, unidentifiable fabric. It looks hard and synthetic, but still susceptible to creasing when touched. The undershirt is of a lighter sort, more natural looking, but almost ethereal in its softness.

She pauses in her examination. A white card sticks out of his breast pocket. She looks at it curiously.

She speaks suddenly.

Lavender: Nael, what is that card in your pocket?

Nael, having taken to caressing the milk glass with his fingers, does not reply. Irritated, Lavender reaches over for it. She meets no resistance when she withdraws it.

It is completely blank. On both sides.

 
Lavender stares at Nael, exasperated. Disappointed, and hurt by his distance, she stands, kicking her chair back with a groan. Her heart combusts.

Lavender: Aah!

Lavender: Mr Oesah!

Lavender: I really am not sure how dearest Russell befriended you. I can appreciate your respect for silence, but I really must insist that you make at least a VAGUE attempt to acknowledge me.

She looks away, holds, then throws the white card back across the table.

Lavender: At least... Write on it or SOMETHING. A poem! A song! A letter! Anything!

Lavender: How can you be so detached? Are you even HUMAN?

She slams her palm on the table. Unshaven splinters cut into her hand. She bites back the pain.

The milk shivers in fright at the force of her hand. A few heads glance in her direction, momentarily intrigued.

Nael stares at her idly, expressionless. She stares back. Lavender sits back down with a sigh, her hand stinging.

 A man appears behind her.


Lavender turns when she feels a warm hand on her shoulder. She jumps when she sees a man crouching by her shoulder, his face inches from hers. He chuckles.

Man: Yeh okay, love?

The man's breath smells of whisky.

Lavender: Who are you?

Man: Ha!

Lavender: Stay back a bit, will you?

Man: Why don' YOU just come on?

Lavender: ...

Man: Kermonn! You wanna stay with that 'un?

The man gestures lazily to Nael's silent form. Lavender hesitates.

Lavender: Well... I...

The man grabs her arm and pulls her away.

Lavender: Okay, then!

She laughs and takes his hands.

The music is loud between Lavender and her companion.

Sparks fly from their feet as they electrify the dance floor. Lavender laughs out loud in sheer ecstasy and adrenaline. 

Couples part through screaming beats as the pair tear through them, the force of their energy brilliant and staggering.

Out of breath, Lavender steps away, and rests on a nearby chair next to her nameless partner. He grins, and orders another drink for himself. He holds Lavender around the waist as they sit together. He frowns.

Man: Yer clothes are....allw.... allwet.

Lavender: Yes... I was outside, and...

Man: Maybe you outta slippinto summin' else...

Lavender: Err..... What.... What do you mean? I have nothing else.

Man: Uh-uh. Whassay you slippinto summin' nice, an' I do the same, hmm?

Lavender stares at the man. He chuckles.

Lavender: Err.. How many have you had, exactly?

Man: Don' matter. Don' never matter 'fore. Hic!

Lavender's eyes narrow, then widen. She stands up.

Lavender: Oh... My friend is waiting for me.

Man: Tha' killjoy 'oo made yeh so MAD? Why yeh goin' back teh him, baby? Aren' I mer fun? Hic!

Lavender: No, yes, no... I must, though.

The man grabs her arm.

Lavender: Let me go.

Man: Ain' nawt! 'E ain' treatin' yeh right, an' I say yeh owe meh.

Lavender: I don't owe you anything! Let me go!

The man holds fast.

Lavender: NA-EL! A little help here? Please!

She glances over at him.

In a busily secluded corner of the bar, Nael strokes his milk glass in active pensiveness with solid ghostly hands, listening hard to nothing at nothing, dedicated in his inactivity.

Lavender screams internally. With a beating heart and hand she attacks the man until he releases his grip.

Man: Aww cermonn back baby! Don' be like that! Yer SMOKIN' hot!

Lavender: And you're smokin' POT if you think I'm staying with you!

Then, realizing this might be true, Lavender makes her way speedily back towards Nael. Beat on beat, once again.

Lavender collapses at the table in front of Nael. Exhausted from dancing, and still trembling with the adrenaline of parting with her anonymous companion. She sighs, and looks up at Nael with resentment.

Lavender: Gee, Nael, thanks for the help back there.

The sarcasm in her tone is evident, and tangible. Nael does not react.

Lavender: I want to go home, Nael.

Silence.

She sighs. She makes a motion to get up, but does not carry through. Nael does not seem to have heard her, and remains still, deep beneath the surface.

Lavender folds her arms and rests her head upon them.

Lavender: I guess it's going to be a long night.

Lavender's gaze sweeps the bar in front of her... Just a wall, a dart board with more misses than hits... And... Whiteness.

Milk?

Lavender had never really paid attention in drama classes, but, seeing little alternative, finds enough within herself to meditate on the circles of attention. The milk holds her gaze as her mind exits her body.

As a stone falls into a smooth pond, and ripples emanate from its entry, so does every action affect another, rippling out in circles of attention.

Self. Lavender feels her own beating heart, caged within her ribs, pounding like a drum beneath a raging sea. She listens to her heartbeat, concentrating on its rhythms, controlling them. Her hands are folded beneath her head, and press together warm under her chin. She moves to the second circle.

The bar is warm, and has a mildly unpleasant scent. The band in the corner still plays erratically and drunkenly. The stamping feet of the dancers are shouts in the wind, declarations of self lost in their own rhythm. Lavender's heartbeat drums alongside them, carving out her image in music.

She follows the third circle beyond the bar. It is outside, outside in the rain. Outside where it is chilly, and the wind howls a mournful tune between the streetlights and frost. Gusts of cars squeal past, their passengers safe and dry on leather upholstered seats. Down by the river a young man crouches down and whistles a cheerful tune. His feet are bare, and his home is gone. Lavender pulls back, and finds herself within her heartbeats once more.

It closes, and ends. Lavender lets herself be still for a moment, heavy, at peace, then struggles to raise her tired head. With lethargic endurance she pushes her eyes open to the whiteness, then, defeated by the will of her reluctance, lets them slip closed once more. Just a short nap, maybe. She was not going anywhere anytime soon anyway. The circles ripple squarely away as she sinks beneath the boiling coolth of sleep.



******************************************************************************

A shaft of morning light strokes Lavender's face, gentle and caressing. The smell of cut wood and sawdust enrobes her like a summer cape. Lavender groans, and straightens her back, stretching away the compressed tension. Had she spent the night here? She opens her eyes.

An unfamiliar scene greets her. A silent, deserted room dressed in dirty panels and old paintings. A long, dilapidated counter stretches across the room. Was this the bar from last night? 

She turns to the door, and recognizes it as the same broken threshold she had crossed last night. But where was everyone?

Where was Nael?

She glances around the perimeter of the bar. Totally deserted. She sighs, and turns back towards the door, preparing to leave.

Lavender: I wonder how I'll get home...

She wonders aloud, with a sigh. She starts walking.

She jumps when she sees a slender figure standing by the door.

Nael stares at her from under his dark brim. She stares back. She clears her throat before speaking.

Lavender: You stayed.

Nael is silent for a time, his eyes freely locked with Lavender's, before he turns and steps into the morning light.

Lavender follows swiftly and wordlessly behind him.

Beat on beat on silent beat.

There is a jingle of keys as the door opens and Nael and Lavender enter the lobby.

Lavender: Home sweet home!

Lavender laughs lowly, then pauses. She turns to Nael.

Lavender: I ought to say it...

Lavender: Nael.

Lavender: Thanks for... like.... for not like leaving me alone there. I didn't expect it.

Lavender: ...

She coughs awkwardly.

Lavender: It's nice to know you care somewhat, is all.... And... Yeah. Mmm.

She looks away.

Nael turns and drifts away.

Lavender waits for the blush to fade from her cheeks before heading to the kitchen for a glass of milk.

To be continued....