DRIVE WEST

THREE - A Little Dream (Part 1)

"What's in this?" He asked her, distractedly.

That's when Malachi stretched his hands with little effort, enough so just the tip of his fingers met Monday's arm, "When Just Johnny bores you to death, dear, let me know so I can run to the kitchen, get a couple of ice cubes and meet you in the bathroom."

"Ice cubes?"

The man smiled and walked away, chuckling.

Apollo turned around to Monday and handed her a shrimp salad tea sandwich.

He stuffed his mouth with his own portion of the sandwich soon after.

Monday looked at him and rolled her eyes. She walked away and he followed.

They both found a table to sit at.

Apollo gulped his sandwich (at last) and then drank some champaign.

"So. Zen smiles, huh?"

"She had a humble upbringing." She answered. "Just Johnny?" She asked bitterly, "You couldn't be bothered to pick a last name?"

Apollo shrugged, "Johnny is a simple man."

She rolled her eyes once again, "Zen doesn't hang with simple people."

His jaw dropped, "See, you're too good at your job. I can't even tell you're in character."

She looked at him unamused, but he laughed at his own humour.

"Well, at least we met Shaw without even having to try." He looked at her; she looked around the ball-room. "That dress might make me unemployed. It's doing all the work."

She looked at him and smiled. "A girl can dream."

They locked eyes for a second, both in good humor with the bantering, and Apollo only broke it when he surrendered to his spirits and gave Monday another look, starting at her shoulders, and then collarbones, and then some inches below. He then wandered back to her eyes, that were still, waiting for his return.

They ignored that and he drew in a long breath, and sipped his champaign once more.

Monday looked forward. "I just saw Peaches Oberlin entering the ladies' room." She stood up in perfect posture, "The dress and I have a new friend to make."

He nodded, "It would've been me entering that bathroom if it weren't for that job-stealing dress." He looked at the dress as if it had a face, "I used to be a provider!" he told it. Monday laughed. He leaned back on his chair, "Make sure she doesn't know you've been introduced to her father. That'll bring out her bad side."

Monday nodded and walked away.

Pushing the door open, Monday soon realized she had never seen such a large bathroom in her life. It had mirrors in each extremety, that were separated by a large collection of couches and golden-rimmed chairs that seemed to go back from the 19th Century.

Four mirrors away from her stood Peaches Oberlin, daughter of Malachi Shaw and wife to Jamerson Oberlin; her family was the very center of the operation. Becoming an insider means access to privileged information and influential opportunities. It also means up-handing Apollo and taking lead of this non-sense 'co-leadership'.

Of course, Peaches Oberlin wasn't just any target; she was a renouned international supermodel, who at this very moment had her head down at the alabaster sink as she snorted a line of cocaine.

And this, Monday presumed, was her good side.

Peaches' hunchback merged back into her usual scoliosis when she came back for air as if she had been holding her breath underwater. Her side eye caught Monday peeking.

"Have I startled you, dear?" She asked, sarcastically. Her voice was tired and her tone was deep. The platinum haired girl was barely 21, but the many years of lust and guilt matured her into sounding like a woman in her late 60s.

Monday smiled at her, fearlessly, "On the contrary." she paused, "I think we'd get along. I'm Zen."

Peaches smiled and started walking towards Monday slowly; her hip bobbing left and right with each step she took. Her short blonde hair and brunette eyebrows looked like she was photoshopped: she had cultivated perfection in the most unintentional way. If a halo suddenly appeared on top of her head and followed her around, Monday was sure nobody would suspect that it was out of place.

She got so close to Monday that their noses nearly touched.

The girl whispered, looking down to her lips, "I don't care who you are." She slipped her face to Monday's side and pressed her lips to her ear. "If you direct another word at me I will have three big men escort you out." Her head slid back to Monday's front, where their lips actually touched for a short moment, "Capiche?"

She leaned away and then walked out of the bathroom.

Monday stared at her reflection at the mirror across from her for a couple of seconds, then she smoothed down her dress, and pulled herself back together.

She would not forget about this night.

-

She sat back down at the table.

"How was it, dear?"

She sighed and sat down with the posture of a spoiled brat who had heard the word no. She didn't look at him to respond, "If I approach her again she'll escort me out of the building."

He choked on his drink and raised his eyebrows. "That bad, huh?"

She looked at him, silently asking him to never mention it again.

Apollo looked at Peaches walking across the room. He chugged the rest of his champaign, stood up from his chair and buttoned his suit. He reached out his hand to her, "I'll take care of it."

She looked at his hand and wrinkled her nose in disgust. "What's this?"

He signaled his head to the dance floor, "Come on." He commanded.

She chuckled, "Really?" He nodded. "I'm really not in the mood."

He plastered a smile on his face, "Good thing I'm not asking Monday. I'm asking Zen."

She rolled his eyes and took her hand, secretly inspired by his firmness. She stood up and followed him to the dance floor.

-

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