City Of Black Magic

Gone Mad

"Just A Small Town Girl, Living In A Lonely World" -- Journey

The apartment was calm, lit by the tranquil rays of the sun. The light shined over the simple decor of a wooden coffee table, surrounded by a white couch and recliner set up in front of a thin and long television. Had it been up to Thomas's mother, the television would have been larger, the table unscathed, and the white fabric unstained by the evils of coffee. Tom, however, enjoyed a few flaws in his living arrangements. When asked why, he would intentionally stand straighter, set a far-off look in his eyes, and say, "I believe it is a metaphor for life," never explaining beyond that.

            After all, that was a load of bull. He just didn't want to look like a spoiled rich kid anymore.            Tom sat on his mildly stained couch, his long legs curled up beneath him. His brown hair was brushed down, though some of the short wavy strands freed themselves and flew off. His skin was pale, but not drastically so. Beneath his rectangular glasses were dark eyes, which currently looked down at his phone—an Android, as he would proudly state to all iPhone users. As his fingers tapped on the screen, finishing combinations in Bejeweled, he said, "So she just ran off? Doesn't sound like her. What scared her so much?"

            Across the small living room, Trent sunk deeper into the chair. When Tom looked up to him, he was vaguely worried Trent would vanish into the seat, never to be seen again—The story of the killer chair! he thought, only slightly amused with his title.

            Trent sighed, his dark hair falling over his face. "Hell if I know," he muttered, shaking his head slightly. "I dunno, that club in general, probably. I guess that was a bad choice..." He let out a groan, running his hand through his long hair, pulling the stray strands back into place. "I just wanted her to see different things!"

            Tom scoffed, pulling his phone down long enough to give Trent a look that clearly stated, You are an idiot. It mostly consisted of furrowed eyebrows and narrowed eyes. "And you thought a club would be good? This is the same girl that fears raising her hand in class." Rolling his eyes, his judgmental expression fading, Tom brought the phone and game back up. "This is why I should be the one to deal with Nat, and her emotional damage from being in public."

            With another sigh, Trent said, "The girl works in an entertainment company now. I love her, but she's gotta get some sort of a spine!" He snorted, adding, "This is why I don't help people."

            "Because you only end up harming them, causing them emotional stress, and sending them to me to be fixed?" Tom grinned to himself. "If that's always how this works, you should try to help some hot guys."

            "If you want a hot guy," Trent grumbled, "you should just come over here."

            The thought flickered in his mind for a moment before moving on, easily slipping away. Trent was only a friend, and too fun to tease to pass up the opportunity to say, "Wouldn't that defeat the purpose?"

            "Whatever."

            "But anyways, I told Nat she should come over, so I think she'll be here soon. Hopefully. Then we can ask her what happened."

            As if on cue, the sound of a perky doorbell rang throughout the apartment. Trent's eyebrows lifted and he began to push himself to his feet. "Want me to get it?"

            "I'm pretty sure you've done enough," Tom said, again pushing his limits with his sarcasm. He moved to his feet, crossing the room to the front door.