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“Fräulein Scientist!”
“Here he comes…” Ema grumbled, looking at the most annoying person she had ever known.
There he was. Klavier Gavin. Walking towards her with a skip to his step. Not many people would guess it was Klavier Gavin, though, because he was wearing what he called his ‘disguise.’ Just behind him and significantly less cheerful walked Simon Blackquill. The sight they made was that of a preppy punk taking the prince of darkness for a walk. Ema fit right in with her plain outfit. She snorted at the mental image of them, but quickly moved on to scolding.
“Will you stop with that ‘Fräulein’ of yours?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips and glaring up at the foppish jerk in front of her.
“Nein!” the foppish jerk in front of her happily replied. Then, he shot back, “Will you stop with that ‘glimmerous fop’ of yours?”
“No.”
“That’s what I thought.” Klavier turned his nose up, proud of his knowledge of Ema Skye lore.
“This dance of your blades has been overdone,” Simon commented in a bored monotone voice, attempting to cover for his amusement. It was successful. Unlike his attempt at looking like he wasn’t a part of this stupid group of stupid people. Not even looking pointedly away from the group worked.
“It’s a nice routine,” Klavier parried with a smile in his voice.
Ema ‘hmpf’ed, but added, “Agreed.”
In truth, Ema agreed to meet with them to go shopping out of her own free will. However, she still acted like she was forced to be here by her older sister. Even after returning from Khura’in, it just felt wrong to act like anything other than a couple of ‘worsties,’ as Klavier called them. It was a fragile balance of sass, salt and genuine care for each other. Any other mixture made it weird. Any difference was scary. At least Simon was fitting in nicely.
After some chatting, Ema gestured for them to follow her and soon they were all seated in her car. She took the driver’s seat while the glimmerous fop and the dark prince took the back seats.
“Aren’t you going to take off your ‘disguise’?” Ema asked when she turned around to check the seatbelts on everyone.
“Nein,” Klavier shook his head. The disguise consisted of sunglasses and a black mask with a print of a tiger’s mouth and teeth on it. “What if someone sees and recognizes me?”
“We’re using my car specifically to avoid that.”
“Still.”
“What if you suffer heatstroke?” Ema covered the concern with annoyance.
“Oh, bitte,” Klavier waved it off before gesturing at Simon. “Herr Scarecrow here is most likely to get a heat stroke out of all of us.”
Simon, who was wearing a black long-sleeved shirt, glared at Klavier.
“What are you glaring at me for? I’m right!”
“I’m pretty sure if he lets the sun touch his skin, he’ll instantly burn, so he’s excused,” Ema backhandedly defended him.
“Silence! Before anything, I’ll get a migraine with the two of you.”
Klavier snickered and Ema grinned, but the requested silence soon filled the car.
However, it wasn’t quiet for long. Ema started the car and focused on the road. She would grumble about someone’s driving abilities every now and then, her irritation just loud enough for Klavier and Simon to hear above the sounds of the city. Eventually, Klavier started humming a new song of his that had just come out. It was a huge hit and, unfortunately for his friends, an earworm. It was stuck in both of their heads and now that Klavier’s humming had awoken it, Ema begrudgingly put it on.
“Really?” Klavier asked with a chuckle, “I remember you saying that you’d never play my music in your car.”
“Yeah, I also remember saying it,” Ema replied, both hands back on the wheel. “I don’t want people to think I’m a fan, if I die in a car crash with your music on.”
“Ja? What’s different now?”
“You are in my car, you glimmerous fop!” Laughter slipped into her voice. “If I die now, people will think I’m your personal driver! At least with your music on, everyone will know about your massive ego.”
“How grim. What if Herr Scarecrow survives to tell the real story?”
“I would reveal the truth of your massive ego and mourn the loss of your personal driver,” Simon commented with a smirk.
“Hey!” Ema yelled, “I hope you die with us, so everyone will think you’re the fop’s bodyguard.”
She couldn’t see Simon’s expression, but if Klavier’s chuckle was anything to go by, it wasn’t one of impartiality.
“You are coming down with me, hand in unlovable hand, and I hope you die, I hope we both die,” Klavier sang, awakening yet another earworm.
Several songs later they reached their goal in the form of a shopping mall.
It would be the first time all three of them went there together. Ema had been there once with Klavier, but never with Simon. Klavier hadn’t been there with Simon either. It actually took some reassuring and some waiting until Simon was ready. He had been slowly integrating into society once more after his exoneration; and it might have taken years, but he was finally ready to take on the shopping mall. The beast was always full of noises, smells, sensations and people. It was a lot.
Thankfully, Simon wasn’t alone.
He and the group walked in a close formation: Klavier at the front, Ema in the middle and Simon at the end. It was the optimal order for their raiding party.
Klavier’s place allowed him to lead the group wherever and to shield those behind him from any shop assistant ready to jump at them.
Ema, being the shortest of the three, needed to stay between the two manly trees so she could see both of them. Moreover, she could stir either in the needed direction if something happened to catch her eye.
Simon stayed behind as the tallest among them. Like a fortress tower, he looked out for his friends and scared away their fiends.
Thus, the adventurers made their way through the dungeon that was the shopping mall. They made several stops on their adventure.
The first one was at some clothing shop that Klavier found boring, so he led them to his favorite clothing store instead. There they started with the women’s section. Klavier almost convinced Ema to buy a crop top matching the one he was wearing. Never to give up, he tried to find something else for her. He found a pretty summer dress that he insisted Ema must try and she caved in. She also picked up a pair of brown shorts which went well with her t-shirt.
Then she and Simon followed Klavier to the men’s part of the store. Every now and then he glanced at Simon. Simon was growing more and more wary with each glance, though he knew from the start what they meant. His fears were proven true when Klavier asked for his size.
“You must be mad to think I accompanied you only to become your bloody Barbie doll!” Simon said, trying to get out of it.
“But, Simon, your wardrobe is in dire need of an update!” Klavier argued, emphasizing almost every word as if on a theater stage. Then he turned to Ema. “Am I wrong?”
Ema gave him a shrug, refusing to take sides.
“Gavin-dono—!”
“Ah-ah-ah.” Klavier waved a finger, causing Simon to close his mouth. “I am picking you something, don’t even try. Nein! No glaring. It won’t stop me.”
Simon made a sound closely resembling growling and folded his arms on his chest. Ema snorted and moved to help Klavier pick something.
“Et tu, Ema?”
“I’m saving you from his poor choices,” she snickered, “You don’t want to walk out looking like him, do you?”
Simon sighed and rolled his eyes.
He stayed close, watching with a frown the way the instigator and the traitor scrutinized him and every article of clothes that came their way. Klavier picked up a particularly bright yellow shirt with a sun on it. Ema immediately snatched it, smacking Klavier’s hand for even suggesting it. Klavier whined about how he was just joking. A very amused noise left Simon at that.
Once both Ema and Simon had their hands full, Klavier ushered his friends into separate fitting rooms. It was then that they noticed—Klavier only picked clothes for them. Sly fox… he would pay for that later.
First to come out was Ema in the dress. The verdict?
“Meh,” she said much to Klavier’s dismay. “I look like I came out of a Jane Austen book.”
“Aw, but it’s so cute! I found a hat—”
“Meh.”
“Alright, alright.” Klavier chuckled and Ema returned to the fitting room.
When she came out next, Simon still hadn’t shown his fit.
“I like them,” she commented on the shorts. “Look, my entire hand fits in the pocket! It’s a dream.”
“Ja, they suit you. You can charm any woman in those.”
“You think so?” Ema turned her head as much as she could to see her backside in the mirror.
At that moment Simon finally emerged. Gone were the long sleeves; in their stead he wore a sleeveless hooded shirt, exposing his toned pale arms, muscles tensed up in their fold over on chest. Behind the arms showed a tank top printed with a skull, flowers growing out of it.
“Oh!” Klavier and Ema spoke up at the same time. Klavier continued, “You look great, Simon! Oh!” He snapped his fingers. “We should go elsewhere and get you a proper leather jacket. Or a leather vest! Ja! Ja! I already see it!”
“You do look good,” Ema agreed with a nod.
“...Thanks,” Simon pried from the depths of his mortification. He didn’t seem that sure of his outfit, but he looked Ema up and down and was obviously satisfied with that. “You do, too.”
“Thanks!” she returned with an encouraging smile.
In the end, the group left the store with a few things. Simon bought both articles of clothes, but didn’t promise to wear them at the same time. Ema also found him a light button-up shirt. It was white, so it looked nicely over any other t-shirts that Simon might have. He was grateful for that. Ema herself walked away with the shorts.
Their next stop was the place Klavier mentioned that sold good leather jackets. He managed to convince Simon to try on and buy one. Another win for Klavier, in his own humble opinion.
They then visited one more shop — it specialized in hair accessories — when Ema announced they needed a break. The truth was that Simon needed a break. She noticed how his scowl was deeper than usual and his remarks about Klavier’s choice of hair-clips weren’t cutting enough. However, Ema knew the men around her were too prideful to admit something like that unless they were dying. She had to do everything for them.
For the break they picked a small café close to the mall. It was a small, cozy place that didn’t see many people because the shopping mall had a food court and most preferred to eat there. This was exactly why it was a perfect refuge for the weary shoppers.
The party of three shopping refugees stepped out of the mall, crossed the street, were welcomed in by the bell above the café’s door— when Klavier bumped into the people on their way out, sunglasses falling askew in the collision. The group began to apologize; but then they looked closer at his blue eyes and blond hair. By the time he adjusted the sunglasses, it was already too late. He tried apologizing in return only to hammer the final nail into his coffin; his fans recognized his voice.
“Klavier Gavin?!” one of them hadn’t been able to hold back and yelled so loud that even people on the streets heard.
A few moments after they had been first spotted, Klavier was swarmed by boys and girls, men and women. Although the crowd mainly consisted of ladies of various ages, there were enough gentlemen for it to be noticeable. Together, they were a powerful current of excitedly buzzing people.
Ema and Simon stayed a few feet away so they wouldn’t be swept away by that current. They stood annoyed and amused. They had been trying to avoid this, and just when they thought they were in the clear…
But it was the kind of thing you signed up for when returning to showbiz.
At least Klavier looked comfortable. He took off the mask and sunglasses, so Ema could see his genuine smile and his eyes crinkling. His shoulders were relaxed, his posture was radiating confidence. He was in his element. He did throw his friends an apologetic glance, but was waved off by them both.
After that, Ema and Simon didn’t want to interrupt. They knew they could signal when the time was up and Klavier would politely say goodbyes and leave with them. So, they stood on the sidelines, counting the minutes and the arriving fans.
During the short while that they were waiting, a second smaller group appeared around them. It consisted mostly of guys, though not entirely. It was obvious this was the ‘waiting room’ for those less interested in meeting the celebrity, but bound by the duty to wait for their friend or lover.
A couple of guys standing the closest to Ema looked annoyed. Judging by their conversation, which Ema couldn’t help but overhear, they were waiting for their girlfriends and they weren’t very happy about the situation in which they were ‘stuck.’
“I mean, what’s so special about him?” one of the guys said. “He’s just another popstar.”
“Yeah, maybe it’s the pretty face,” the other guy replied.
“And money,” added the first one.
“And money.”
“Bet it’s just money. The face? Plastic surgery. The songs? Ghost writers. It’s all money.”
“Not even his money, I bet.”
“Oh, totally…”
Hearing all of that made Ema’s blood boil. The urge to fight those guys and yell at them was very hard to overcome. Sure, Klavier had his shortcomings and, yes, he had the money. But.
Those morons didn’t know him, they didn’t know what he had been through, nor did they know how talented and amazing Klavier actually was. For fuck’s sake, they just called him a popstar. Pop! Ema wanted to cut off their stupid tongues.
“What was that?” one of the guys said threateningly in Ema’s direction. Crap! Was she thinking out loud?
However, the guys were looking somewhere… above her… She followed their line of sight.
Looming over her was Simon Blackquill, looking down on the men with a toothy smirk very reminiscent of a predator’s scowl. Murderous.
“So your ears cannot hear, yet your mouths continue to spill nonsense. Tch. How typical of your folk.” Simon’s smirk got replaced by a frown as he turned to face the offending men. “But if I must repeat myself… Bite your tongues before my blade bites them off for you.”
“Wh-why, you!”
The guys were obviously sensing the real threat. They stepped back, their eyes darted around looking for escape, their voices stuttered. However, they must have had some sort of pride that prevented them from backing down. Or maybe they were just stupid.
Thankfully, before a real fight would break out, Klavier stepped in.
“Ach, I’m tired,” he sighed dramatically, leaning on Simon and tugging on Ema’s shirt. “Let’s go home, ja?”
He looked over his friends and the group of people around him. His eyes stopped on the two men they had been talking to. He smiled at them and the men took another step back. A curious spectacle. Especially considering that the smile was nothing but friendly.
Then Klavier led them out, waving to his fans goodbye.
In the car he took his previous seat and sighed.
“Why must you be this way, Herr Scarecrow? I know you’re soft and fluffy deep inside.”
“Hm.” Simon smirked and put his chin between his thumb and index finger. “You are looking through the forensic fanatic’s pink glasses, prince charming… and far too deep. Take them off. What you claim to see is merely the mold that eats away at my rotten heart.”
“Yeah, give them back,” Ema chimed in, starting up the car. “I need to see if there’s still blood in it.”
“All I’m hearing is that you have a heart. Blood or no blood.”
Simon didn’t respond to that.
“Takeout?” Ema suggested. “My place.”
“Bitte.”