The Tiger and the Dragon by George deValier

Chapter 1

In case you skipped the important notice: The last four chapters will be the original versions of the first four revised ones. They are the same, except with less improved detail or writing. That's why I'm adding them last. 

"Yao, honestly, will you lighten up... you haven't said a word all night," said Arthur, throwing a red paper streamer at Yao's head.

"It's called fatigue. I haven't had a day off in two weeks," replied Yao, throwing the streamer back. Alfred intercepted it and swung around, placing it over Yao's neck and tying it into a bow. Yao stopped and glared at him.

"Yao, you have to celebrate!" said Alfred, grinning down at him.

"Why?" asked Yao through gritted teeth.

"Because it's Chinese New Year! It is a time for your people to gather, dress as giant dragons, consume fortune cookies, and buy tacky little Buddha statues!"

Yao continued to glare. He didn't know which was more astounding - Alfred's ignorance, or the fact that after all these years, it still managed to surprise him.

"Alfred, you are an imbecile," said Francis, swatting Alfred over the back of the head.

"What?" asked Alfred indignantly, rubbing his head as Arthur laughed. The four young men continued walking down the busy, colourful street, passing performers, crowds of onlookers and rows of market stalls.

A talking, yelling, cheering crowd filled the streets of Chinatown, and Yao could feel a headache developing. He had not ventured out for Chinese New Year for a very long time, and now he remembered why. He grimaced in annoyance as a loud group of men pushed through them and nearly knocked him over.

"Watch where you're going you bastards!" shouted Arthur. One of the men made a rude gesture and Alfred wearily restrained Arthur from chasing after them. "Wankers!" Arthur finally gave up and fell back into step with the others, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it swiftly.

"Guys, seriously, why did you make me come out here? We could have just had drinks back at my apartment," said Yao in exasperation.

"You never want to go anywhere lately, you're becoming a complete bore," said Francis. He took a swig from a bottle concealed in a paper bag and offered it to Yao. Yao took it and drank, feeling the strong wine burn his throat. Maybe it would get rid of his headache.

"That's not true," said Yao. "We just went out like last week, remember... that big party at Ludwig's place."

"That was a Christmas party," said Arthur, reaching for the wine bottle. Yao took a few more gulps before handing it over.

"Fine, so it's been a few, er, months. And? You know how busy I get at the restaurant."

"Oh, for the days when our Yao was the life of the party," said Alfred, shaking his head melodramatically.

"What days were those? I never remember Yao being the life of the party," said Arthur between gulps of wine.

"Well, at least we could drag him out of the house."

"Um, guys, I'm not dead," said Yao. "I've just been busy lately, aru." He swore under his breath, annoyed that they had got an 'aru' out of him. An old nervous habit of his, he only came out with it these days when either very angry, irritated, or nervous.

"Oh please," said Francis. "You are making excuses. I work practically the same hours as you at the restaurant."

"You see? And Francis hasn't turned into a predictable, boring old man," said Alfred.