A Strange State of Affairs Ch. 5

Fye was up at dawn.  He checked on El, making sure that he hadn’t rolled over and squished her in his sleep.  The cat was fine, her sides moving up and down evenly.  Her ears twitched in her sleep, but otherwise she was motionless.

He opened his closet and dug through the hanging articles of clothing, selecting a plain black cotton singlet.  From the top of his closet, he fished through stacks of pants and found a dark pair paint-smeared jeans. 

He was planning to paint today �" and not the ridiculous “metal” project that he had revealed to the reporters.

Fye walked toward the bathroom, planning to take a shower.  He locked the door and stripped off his thermal from the day before, wincing.  Upon his chest was a magnificent round bruise.  It had been left there a week ago at one of his press conferences, during which a reporter had tossed her microphone at him for turning down an odd marriage proposal.  Really, women.  Why where they so ridiculous, insisting on impossible things?  He sighed.  Couldn’t they see that he had other things on his mind right now?

The ringing of the doorbell caused him to rush out of the shower, still toweling his hair dry. 

The penetrating noise cut through Elevine’s dreams, dragging her back to consciousness.  She blinked and sat up.  Her back felt horrid; the stitches felt oddly stretched, like the wound had grown and the sutures had shrunk.  She yawned and stood, hopping onto the bedside table and then onto the ground.

Elevine padded to the door and saw Fye standing there, one arm clad in a red armband placed on the door frame.  “…found me here,” he was saying. 

A woman’s piercing voice responded.  “The report was on television last night.  Mind you, just some ridiculous gossip channel, but it was enough to incense the critics.  They say that you’re losing your touch, man.  Good grief.”  Elevine walked closer and saw a thin, burnished arm hoisting a magazine into Fye’s face.

“Pona, come in.  It’s not appropriate for anyone to see you standing outside my door.  And I’m not dressed.”  He plucked at the singlet he wore and gestured toward his rumpled hair.

The woman entered.  Elevine stared at her, morose.  She had forgotten that Kor was an attractive country, with healthy, thriving men and women.  The woman standing before her was in her early twenties, with wavy blue-black hair that reached the small of her back and was pinned up in the front, a few curls cascading artfully about her angular face.  Her grey eyes burned passionately, a strong emotion too potent for their mere almond shapes to contain.  At once, Elevine missed being human.  She had that same Korish contour to her eyes and the same shade of jet-black hair that sparkled with different colors in the sun, although hers was straight.  However, she would pale in comparison with this woman and her obvious overflowing reserve of confidence.  Elevine herself would never dare to wear such a strappy top so casually.  The way this woman stood suggested �" quite blatantly �" that wearing such garb was everyday old hat to her. 

“Oh?  You got a cat,” she remarked upon sighting El.  “What’s her name?”

Fye smiled.  “Elala,” he replied, “I picked her up yesterday.  Some…reporters hit her when they were trying to hunt me down.” 

Pona scowled at him, twitching her glossy lips.  “Yes, yes.  You always were a sucker for animals.”  Her tone was dry.

Fye shrugged and walked towards the refrigerator.  “Have you eaten yet?”

Pona gaped at him.  “At this hour?!” she exclaimed, gesturing toward the window, “I doubt half of Kor is awake yet, much less dining.”

Fye chuckled.  “East and West?”

She swatted him on the shoulder.  “I want an omelet.  I’ll dice the tomatoes.  Do you have any fresh herbs?”

Elevine clambered upon the kitchen counter, her back slightly more limber than before.  She stared at Pona, eyes narrowing.

Pona turned and caught El eyeing her.  “I don’t think your cat likes me very much,” she murmured.

The artist was staring intently at the pan of crackling eggs.  “Huh?  Oh,” he replied, noticing the odd expression on El’s face, “She probably knows that you’re my agent and that you make my life a living hell.”

She huffed in reply.  “It wasn’t easy finding you, you know.  When did you buy this house?”

“It was a gift from the sovereign of Arista, the Land of Desert.  I sculpted a few pieces for her once, and she bought me this house.  Those flowers out in the yard were a gift from her as well.”

“Ah,” Pona murmured, “I see.”  She was silent for a moment, then dropped her tomato and burst out, “Wait a moment!!  That was one of the women who offered you a harem as well!!  I remember getting those parchments in the office one day!!  Oh, those were just hilarious.”  She chuckled, displaying a set of fine white teeth. 

Elevine put her ears back.  Just how many marriage proposals had this man gotten?!  The whole world must be trying to marry him.  She snorted and went back to staring suspiciously at Pona.

“There goes your cat again.”  She reached out a long, toned arm and scratched El on the head.  “Poor girl, look at that back of yours.”  Her eyes then glinted, and she came closer.  “So, what exactly has Fye been telling you about me?  Has he mentioned that I’m some sort of demon in disguise?  A ‘monster agent’?  Come on, you can tell me.”  She smiled.

Elevine couldn’t help herself �" she purred at the head scratch.

“There, you see?” Fye said, “She’s warming up to you already.”

“Oh, this reminds me of something.”  Pona left the counter and walked over to the front door, where her sturdy brown boots with intricate threading on the sides were standing.  She drew another magazine out of one of the shoes and brought it over to Fye.  “I thought you might find this interesting.  Margaux Magazine conducted one of their ‘most sought-after bachelor’ polls last month, and the results just came out.”  She opened the magazine with a flourish.  “You’re number two on the list,” she announced, pointing with a long finger to the Number Two slot on the list, filled with a picture of Fye. 

“Second, huh,” Fye snorted, ‘Who’s first?”  He rolled his eyes.  “Margaux Magazine?  Isn’t that a ladies’ magazine?”

Pona nodded.  “But that’s not the point.”  She slammed the magazine down upon the counter.  “Fye, if you don’t start dating soon, you’ll be mobbed and killed by those crazy women out there.  I beg of thee, do something!!  I don’t care if it means having a one-night stand or something, just do something!!  I’m tired of having to answer questions about your life.”  She sighed and ran a hand through her hair.

Fye grew subdued.  “One-night stand?”

“Look,” Pona huffed, “I know this girl.  She’s an heiress, really pretty.  Do you want to meet with her and have dinner or something?”  She stared at him.  “Well, I don’t care what you say.  You’re doing it, whether you like it or not.”  She pulled a silver device out of her back pocked, clicked about on it.  “Next Wednesday.  The Puri Suites.  Be there.” 

“I can’t,” Fye murmured quietly, “The gallery show at the Tellurim-”

“-is the day before,” Pona said with a smirk.  “Really, there’s no way to weasel out of this one, Fye.”  She stared at the eggs simmering on the stove.  “And your food is burning.”

The young man looked down and let out a yelp.  The eggs were rapidly browning, the cheese inside the omelet melting into a sticky adhesive.  He saved the food with a spatula, delivering them safely onto the plates Pona handed him. 

Pona grabbed her plate and headed for the door.  “You’re not going to stick around and goad me more?” Fye asked as she made her way to the parlor to collect her shoes.

“Nope.  I have to get back to the office and confirm your slot for the show.  And I have to deal with those pesky reporters,” she griped, gritting her teeth.  “Well, at any rate, see you on Tuesday.  Don’t be late.  I left the files for the show in your inbox; you should go through them sometime today.  The show is in two days, so be ready.”  She turned and glared at Fye with a cold eye.  “And don’t you dare forget about Wednesday.”  Her head disappeared around the corner, and with the slam of the front door, she was gone.

Elevine was sitting on the kitchen counter licking her paws.  A date?  Even worse, a blind date?  Love Kor as she might, there were still some things about the land that she couldn’t stand.  This pushy, pulchritudinous Pona seemed to embody everything that she disliked about Kor.