Chapter 476: 24th December (1/2)
'I'm home,' the climb up the elevator over the many times became a mundane task. Same as brushing one's teeth, taking a bath, or walking – there remained no space for excitement. When building the elevator shaft, architects must have thought the clearness of the exterior would make the ride pleasant. It did do justice, for the first few times. Afterward, the view became naught but mundane. Same to an awesome music track, after a few repeats, it turned to naught.
'The apartment feels lonesome,' once dim, a step inside and the lights toggled by Éclair. Windows opened, the door shut, everything automated. 'Mother hasn't been home for two months,' thought he laying the helmet on an adjacent coat-hanger. 'I wonder what she's up to?' a shower, browsing the Arcanum over a warm cup of coffee before the giant television screen, news broadcasted the Winter Festival. Advertisements littered the channel.
”We've got a special interview with Emi Muko of Xius,” the camera panned to a lovely lady wearing a short skirt and revealing top. The outfit reminisced those of cheerleaders – a branding had '-Lona,' sowed on the sleeves.
'Xius?' putting the phone face-down, the lady's face seemed familiar. Her group consisted of another lady and a man. The latter didn't seem bothered by the interview. A mustache and goatee, tattoos over the arms and neck – he screamed of being a badass guitarist. The former, a shyer version of the man with plain attire. '-I've heard of them before.'
”Lady Muko, we're all proud to host you here on our modest channel.”
”It's no problem,” said she beaming with a contagious smile, her body movement as well as the expression was refined and cute at the same time. She'd chuckle like a kid then reply like a diplomat.
”Are the rumors about you performing the last day of the Festival true?”
”Yes.”
”Will it not be a small stage for the world-renowned Xius?”
'What's wrong with that reporter?' thought Igna, '-this feels like an interrogation as opposed to an interview. Got to hand it to the idol, she's handling the passive-aggressiveness perfectly.'
”No stage is big nor small. Sugar here agrees,” she turned to the handsome man.
”It's true,” he nodded, ”-as long as there's a guitar, a microphone, a bass, and drums, we'll jam till we can't speak anymore,” exclaimed he.
”O-oh, ok,” the reporter quickly shuffled through her papers.
'Getting flustered?' grinned Igna.
”Back to you, lady Muko – we've heard rumors about you dating a noble, is that true?”
”Johana,” smiled the idol, ”-Xius came here for an interview on the coming Winter Festival, right?” the prior smile suddenly changed to one murderous and vindictive, ”-personal life doesn't matter.”
”I apologize,” the words choked by the darkened expression, '-cut to commercial,' her wandering gaze floated off the camera and to the back. The channel soon flashed with prior performances of Xius.
'Awesome. If they're performing the last day, it might be worthwhile.' *vrr, vrr,* '-huh?' he turned over the phone, '-notifications from Jen and Leonard.' A press had their social media come onto the feed, they posted a typical couple's picture. 'Look at them,' he shook his head with a slight grin, '-first time seeing them post a picture like this.' The lights soon turned off and the night continued the rule over the landscape.
Meanwhile, at the Goldberg's mansion, Leonard stood holding a look of dejection. Footsteps approached, ”-you ok?” asked Lampard.
”No…” he clutched his hair in dismissal, ”-it can't be possible,” a cracked phone laid on the floor, the revealing picture of him and Jen kissing flickered on and off.
”Dude, pull yourself together,” said Lampard shaking his shoulder, ”-come on, wake the hell up!”
”YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND,” the voice echoed down the hall until a closed-door with escaping feeble lights. Whimpers could be heard faintly, though, the shouting muted the cries of woe. ”I TOLD HER TO NOT POST ON MY ACCOUNT, SHE'S DAMNED STUPID,” a slam on the decorative cupboard wiggled the glass-cups into falling.
”Why is it so important?” the cups crashed onto the floor.
”Lampard, sorry, I can't,” he twirled aimlessly, ”-I can't, my mind doesn't think anymore,” the arms exploded with ups and downs.
”DUDE, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?”
”LAMPARD, SHUT THE FUCK UP!” the echoed dulled the hallway.
”Fine,” he turned, ”-suit yourself,” *SLAM*
”Lampard?” said Rena cuddling Jen who cried onto her lap, ”-why is he getting so angry about that photo?”
”I can't believe the nerve on that guy,” he bolted for the window, ”-I'm trying to help and he just pushes me away. What the hell? Like, COME ON.”
”I don't get it either,” whimpered Jen, ”-after we've done everything together,” she sniffled, ”-a measly picture had him nearly slapping me… I don't get it.”
”Jen, did he hurt you?” asked Rena strongly, ”-if so…”
”Don't.”
”Lampard, let go of my shoulders.”
”Leonard might come across smug sometimes,” shadows hid his gaze, ”-he'll never hit a woman. That bastard is a respectable man, the picture must have more riding than we expect. If only we knew what it was…” he wandered again to the window. 'Isn't that?'
”Something the matter?” breathed Rena deeply.
”Come over here, he's on the phone,” to which she jumped to eavesdrop below, the voice was faint but audible.
”Hello,” he paced about with frustration.
”Hello, Leonard, are you well?”