Waving a Net pt.2
"Do you think he will come?", Damien asked as he approached Sven with the two bottles of beer he had just got from the bar.
Sven looked at the green bottle for a while before tasting the liquid inside. The color was almost the same as his own hair: dark green. He had thought of changing the color so many times… and that morning in the shower, when he dried the hair and looked at the green spots on the towel, he had decided to do it the next day; but now… he held the bottle up and peered through it at the people around them, a greenish veil covering everything, and he liked it. His left hand run unconsciously through his hair, lifted a string to his eyes, and he liked it. No, he wouldn’t change the color.
Leaving aside his thoughts, he took a sip and drifted his attention to Sven. "Shion you mean?", he asked, "I don’t know, he was acting really strange this morning"
"Yeah, he surely quarreled with that bastard of Levian". As he said the last four words, Damien narrowed his eyes and remembered how much he hated him. "I wonder what was this time it all about"
Sven arched his eyebrows, "You regret not having gone up to Levian’s flat and finding out?"
"No, no!", he quickly denied, "of course I don’t regret it, you already know I would have preferred to die rather than to step on that flat where a conversation between those two was taking place". He downed his beer and left it on a nearby table. "I just wonder what did Levian do this time, that bastard…"
"Yeah, he is a bastard", the drummer added, "but he is a genius in what to music relates"
"Don’t defend him". Damien looked at him, his eyes now a mere shining line. "He is a bastard", he repeated, this time spitting each syllable with disgust.
"Damien, will you hate him all your life because of having taken that little…"
The sound of the bar’s door slamming open cut his words and make them both look towards the screaming group which had just entered the place. They were not able to see them fully due to the great amount of people filling the Sakura that evening, but a red, a purple and a black head moving through the crowd made it clear the three members of <black:ice> had just entered the place. They wondered, though, to whom belonged the purple head which joined them.
Damien shrugged and went towards the bar in order to pick up another two beers, but also to avoid Sven asking again about Levian and Akiko. That night he wanted to have fun, not think about his lost love and his broken heart, and he wished Shion would enter at any moment.