Chapter 20: KOMM, SUSSER TOD (Bolt Up)

Chapter 20: KOMM, SUSSER TOD (Bolt Up)

A beautiful melody drifts through the empty hallway as I search for Erica to drive us to her house. Each key striking at something deep in my chest. I paused mid-stride, cocking my head to listen.

“Is that...? No way.” I wonder just how much stuff was 1:1 in this world.

I creep towards the music room, peering around the door frame. There, bathed in the warm afternoon light streaming through the windows, sat Lindsey Carter. Her delicate fingers dance across the piano keys, coaxing out the familiar strains of Zelda's Lullaby.

I’m surprised to see her like this. I've never seen her look so... unguarded. So lost in the music. A much nicer look than her usual creepy ‘Ms. steal your boy vibe,’ she usually gives me.

I accidentally nudge the door and suddenly Lindsey's head snaps up, her eyes wide with surprise. Her hands jerk away from the keys, the music cutting off abruptly.

"J-Jason!" she stammers, a blush creeping across her cheeks. "I didn't realize anyone was still here."

I step into the room, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I was just looking for Erica and heard the music..." I trail off, but I'm not sure how to continue.

Lindsey's gaze drops to the floor, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her designer blouse. "Oh, um, it's fine. I was just fooling around, really."

An awkward silence stretches between us. I rack my brain for something to say, anything to break the tension. “That was Zelda's Lullaby?" I kind of half ask, but half state.

Lindsey's head snapped up, and her brown eyes suddenly alighted with interest. "You recognized it?"

I nod, a small smile tugging at my lips. "Yeah, it's one of my favorite songs from Ocarina."

"Oh!" Lindsey's entire demeanor changes in an instant. The shy, embarrassed girl vanishes, replaced by barely contained excitement. "I didn't think... I mean, most boys I know don't really care about video games."

I can't help but chuckle. If only she knew how different things were back in my world. "Well, I'm not most boys," I say, trying to keep my tone light despite the pang of homesickness that hits me.

‘Justin would have gone ballistic if he was in my shoes. Dude would have been four inches deep in a harem by now. Because his dick is four inches.’ I explain my joke to myself because god forbid, my thoughts have an audience; I don’t want them to think I mean anything else when I make fun of my old friend.

‘Wait, Justine probably loves this song too.’

Lindsey leans forward, her eyes shining with an almost manic intensity that makes me take an involuntary step back. However, she clearly tries to reel herself in. "Any requests?”

I sit down in the chair closest to her stool. “Do you know song of healing?” I ask. “It’s one of my favorites?”

“Do I know song of healing? Does the pope shit in her hat?” She asks back.

‘The popes a girl? Makes sense.’

I laugh and give Lindsey a warm smile. “Then please, whenever you're ready.”

Lindsey's fingers hover over the keys for a moment before she begins to play. The haunting melody of the Song of Healing fills the room, and I find myself closing my eyes, letting the music wash over me. It's beautiful, but there's a melancholy edge to it that tugs at something deep inside me.

When the last notes fade away, I open my eyes to find Lindsey watching me intently. There's something in her gaze that I can't quite read, a mix of curiosity and... something else.

"That was amazing," I say softly. "You play beautifully."

‘I hope i don’t regret complimenting her, but the way she plays is truly and genuinely beautiful. Laden with emotion.’ I think to myself.

A faint blush colors her cheeks, but she doesn't look away. "Thank you, Jason. I'm glad you enjoyed it." She pauses, then adds, "You know, not many people appreciate these older games and their music. It's... nice to find someone who does."

Lindsey's fingers trace idle patterns on the piano keys as she gazes at me, her brown eyes filled with an intensity that makes me shift uncomfortably in my seat. The late afternoon sun casts a warm glow across her face, highlighting the subtle curves of her cheekbones and the wispy strands of neon blue hair that frame her delicate features.

"Jason," she begins, her voice soft but probing, "I've noticed something about you. You always seem so... guarded around me. Why is that?"

The question hangs in the air between us, heavy with unspoken tension. I considered deflecting, but after our unexpected moment of connection over the music, I decided to be honest.

"You give me big 'fuck girl' vibes.”

For a split second, a flicker of fiery anger flashes across Lindsey's face, her eyes narrowing and her jaw clenching. But just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, replaced by a carefully composed expression of casual friendliness.

"I... I see," she says, her voice measured. "I suppose I can understand why you might think that." She takes a deep breath, her fingers stilling on the keys. "Jason, I want to apologize. Sincerely. I know my behavior has been... less than exemplary at times."

I watch her cautiously, surprised by the earnest tone in her voice.

Lindsey continues, her gaze dropping to the piano, “I respect Erica's claim. I would never try to come between you two." She looks up at me, her eyes shimmering with what seems like genuine emotion. "What I really want, more than anything, is to be your friend. To have moments like this, where we can connect over shared interests without any ulterior motives."

As I study her face, searching for any sign of deception, I'm struck by how vulnerable she looks in this moment.

"I believe you," I say finally, surprising even myself with the words. "And I'd like that too. To be friends, I mean."

‘Have I grown so submissive I just listen to any commanding woman now? No, that's not right.’ I think to myself and take three steps back.

I spoke my next words with confidence. "That's really nice of you, Lindsey, but I don't think Erica would-"

Suddenly, a familiar voice cuts through the tension like a knife. "Jason! There you are!"

Erica bursts into the room, her blonde hair wild and her blue eyes blazing with barely contained fury. "I've been looking all over for you!" she growls, her gaze darting between Lindsey and me.

The atmosphere in the room instantly changes, charged with a dangerous electricity. Erica's posture is taut, like a predator ready to pounce. Her fingers twitch at her sides as if longing to form fists.

Lindsey, for her part, looks absolutely livid. Her earlier warmth has vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating anger. Her delicate hands, which moments ago had been coaxing beautiful melodies from the piano, now grip the edge of the bench so tightly her knuckles turn white.

"We were just playing some music," Lindsey says, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "Jason was about to show me his piano skills. Weren't you, Jason?"

Erica's eyes narrow dangerously. "Is that so?" she asks, her tone deceptively calm. But I can see the storm brewing behind her eyes, the possessive fury threatening to break loose.

Erica's eyes flash dangerously as she strides across the room, her movements graceful and predatory. In one fluid motion, she grabs my wrist, her grip firm but not painful. The sudden contact sends a jolt through my body, and I find myself instinctively leaning into her, my tension melting away as if her touch has flipped some hidden switch inside me.

"Sorry, Lindsey," Erica says, her voice dripping with barely concealed venom, "but Jason and I have plans today. We'll be going now."

As she speaks, she pulls me closer, her arm snaking possessively around my waist. I can feel the heat radiating from her body, smell the faint scent of cigarettes, and something uniquely Erica that makes my head spin. It feels like coming home after a long, confusing journey.

Lindsey's face contorts for a split second, a mix of frustration and disappointment flashing across her delicate features before she schools her expression into one of polite indifference. As we turn to leave, she calls out, her voice syrupy sweet, "Oh, Erica! I almost forgot to ask. Are us and all your friends still on for Halloween?”

Erica pauses at the doorway, her body tensing against mine. I can practically feel the annoyance radiating off her in waves. She takes a deep breath, then turns back to Lindsey with a forced smile. "Yes, we're still on. Looking forward to it, just like when we were kids."

The words sound strained but with a hint of genuine excitement. Lindsey's smile is bright but doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Wonderful! It'll be just like old times."

*****

Now, in Erica's car, she looks calm for a moment as she settles into the driver's seat. I barely have time to buckle my seatbelt before her composure shatters. She slams her hands down on the steering wheel with such force that the entire car shakes. The sound echoes in the confined space, making me flinch.

"What the fuck, Jason!" Erica screams, her voice raw with anger and hurt. Her blue eyes, usually so captivating, now burn with an intensity that would terrify most people. "Is this how it's going to be? I turn my back for five minutes, and you're cozying up to that manipulative bitch?!"

Her words pour out in a torrent of rage, each accusation striking like a physical blow. "Do you have any idea what she's capable of? You cannot go falling in love with the one girl richer than me in town!”

I remain still, my heart racing but my exterior calm. I had somewhat expected this reaction, knowing Erica's possessive nature. As her tirade continues, I watch the play of emotions across her face, anger, fear, and, underneath it all, a vulnerability that breaks my heart.

When she finally pauses to take a breath, I seize my chance. Slowly, deliberately, I reach out and cup her face in my hands. Her skin is flushed and hot beneath my palms, and I can feel the slight tremor that runs through her.

"Erica," I say, my voice soft but firm. "I would never, ever cheat on you. Not with Lindsey, not with anyone."

She blinks, clearly taken aback by my lack of fear and the steadiness of my gaze. For a moment, the anger in her eyes flickers, replaced by confusion and a glimmer of hope.

"You... you're not afraid of me?" she asks, her voice small and uncertain.

I shake my head, offering her a gentle smile. "No, I'm not. I understand why you're upset, but you need to trust me. I'm yours, Erica. Only yours."

She searches my face, looking for any sign of deception. Finding none, she lets out a shaky breath. "I... I want to believe you, Jason. But I need proof. I need to know you're really mine."

Her eyes light up with sudden inspiration, a manic energy replacing her earlier vulnerability. "I know! Let's go get you another tattoo right now. You’re shoulder this time!"

I can see the desperation in her eyes and the need for tangible proof of my devotion. And to her evident surprise, I nod. "Yeah, okay. Let's do it."

Erica's eyes widen in surprise at my quick agreement. She studies my face for a moment as if trying to decipher some hidden meaning behind my words. Then, unexpectedly, she bursts out laughing.

"You're way too fucking willing to do what I say, you know that?" she says, shaking her head as she turns the key in the ignition. The car roars to life, and she floors the gas pedal, sending us lurching forward.

I can't help but chuckle at her reaction. "Would you rather I be obstinate?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at her.

Erica snorts, her eyes fixed on the road as we weave through traffic at a speed that's probably not entirely legal. "God, no. That would be fucking annoying." She pauses, then adds in a softer tone, "I just... I really hope it's only me you're like that with."

The vulnerability in her voice tugs at my heart. I lean over carefully so as not to distract her from her already reckless driving and plant a soft kiss on her cheek. "It is," I assure her. "Only you, Erica. Always you."

She doesn't respond verbally, but I see the corner of her mouth twitch upward in a small smile.

The rest of the drive passes in a blur of neon signs and honking horns as Erica navigates the city streets with the kind of aggressive confidence that seems to be her trademark. Before I know it, we're pulling up in front of a tattoo parlor, its windows glowing with an eerie blue light.

"Alright, let's do this," Erica says, practically dragging me out of the car and into the shop.