Metra City: Destiny's Kiss Chapter I

Chapter I of the debut novel from Jaree Francis

"Deserving"

If I have to give it all up
I'll take the total impact
Exploding effortlessly
From the mouth of a gat
A thousand times over
And over again
Or on my wrist
You may draw an intricate slit
And pour out
My essence
'til I no longer
--Exist--
So Death, I'll gladly kiss
But before all of this
From Destiny, I deserve a kiss
　
    The raging rain had no discipline whatsoever. It was only listening to gravity. Beneath the downpour, an uncrowned prince found shelter inside of a Benz coupe. The vehicle’s allure mimicked the driver’s handsomeness. His name was Reznor; skin the shade of a perfect midnight, but the gentleman’s eyes were an unruly red. About as red as the traffic light before him. Impatiently he waited, staring blankly. You could easily assume that he was beside himself, but you’d be wrong. To the right of him sat a young woman admired far and wide for her outer beauty. Her name, Ms. Shay Spears. Regrettably lonely even with him beside her. She could honestly say that not since a fetus had she been so ignored. Ironically, she felt that she was where she needed to be. By his side.
    Fury was running through his face as he waited for the traffic light to turn green. The red light taunted him unmercifully. The pounding rain had washed away his high and Shay's babbling didn’t make it any better. Guess she couldn’t help it. A bubbling sensation had erupted within her. Maybe it was Reznor's song blasting on the radio less than five minutes ago that had Shay all shook up, jittery. A sold out crowd was awaiting his grace at the Nephthys, but she had him where she wanted him. The thrill had her stripping down to her brassiere and panties, fighting valiantly against the safebelt. Burning desire melted away her good girl ways or was it the contact? Whatever the case, she felt like clothes had no place on her body. It was supremely golden. Like King Midas had given her a full body massage. Every part of her body was desirable enough to kiss...Or lick. Indeed, she was the model who had more offers than she had time to cover, literally. It seemed as though every clothing designer wanted her to don their clothing for print ads coast to coast. That was her career, but at the moment she found clothes were worthless. Not only was he in the car, he was also on the cover of three magazines. One of the headlines read, "Most Anticipated or Most Exaggerated?" It was a tough question, but he was surely inspiring the masses. What woman wouldn’t want to be by his side was an even tougher question.
    As he sped past the red light, Shay whispered a sweet nothing in his ear that she hoped would become something…….Not even a one word reply escaped his lips.
    "Reznor, what gives? Am I not enough woman for you?" Shay asked with despair. She poked out her glossy lips as her curly, black hair brushed against them. He knew he could get lost in the ocean that she was and drown a million times over.
    Reznor carefully looked out the side of his eyes and flashed his charming smile. His pearly whites contrasted to his dark complexion like the moon against nightfall. "Your body is mercury-- like you don’t know," he said reverting his vision back to the lonely road.
    “And you are cold…Like Pluto.” Her face was barely an inch away from Reznor's while her ample chest graced his slim, toned arm. Her n*****s were primed to dash through her bra.
    "Don’t think I’m not into you. I'm just focused-- focused on the road. You know what happened to my friends?" he asked rhetorically.
    "Of course I do. Moving on. Do you know what I’m wearing, Reznor?" she asked. Her honey brown eyes were digging craters into him. A sex-kitten slapping her tail all across his face.
    "No."
    "This was originally the property of Jacqueline Onassis. Has never been worn...By me, that is. But I knew you and I were going out tonite," she said batting her lavish lashes.
    "Yeah, and I'm wearing JFK's boxers, ma," Reznor spat with a chuckle.
    "Reznor, I swear on-- I swear on my face that this is Jackie O's bra and panties. I'm much too good to lie..."
    "No, I believe you. Probably some auction or whatever, right?" Shay nodded her head as her curls bounced off of her forehead a bit. "I still don't believe you, but I'm glad you think I'm worth lying to," Reznor said taking his eyes off the road.
    "Yes, I did! I know my hips are wider, nevertheless I thought it would be fairly sexy. I always wanted to be like her in a sense." Her tongue began to freeze up. Before her was a slice of heaven and her appetite had just reached capacity. If he only knew how many images she had of him, his ego would be fulfilled. So many moons had passed with her touching herself fixed on his posters-- only to be left with moist fingers. Who knew she'd get her chance with him? Well, she did. The rain continued to splash against the coupe and she was getting wetter than Noah's Ark. Shay ran her hands delicately up Reznor's shirt and played piano on his six-pack.
    "You’re trying to get me in a wreck, aren’t you?" Reznor asked as he turned to her.
    “If you wreck this car it’s all your fault. There is nobody else on the road. Just as it should be." She had a point; the road was deserted. Shay continued to play with Reznor's body and before he knew it her head was under his shirt. She propped her tongue upon his toned stomach. It blew her mind to know that he was preoccupied driving and she could exercise a few of her desires freely. Her tongue traced around the outlines of his muscular structure to a sweet satisfaction. "I need you." The tone that came with this statement was demanding as well as uncompromising. He wanted to say those three words to her long ago.
    "It’s a must that I pull over," Reznor said in a proper fashion. The coupe, dark grey as the clouds above him, exited off the road and dusted away to the side of a Cape Cod cottage. It took forever to get to him yet, now he was before her. Reznor, Reznor. Still, there was something she needed from him first. Butterscotch flavored eyes unblinking, she said, "let me hear your lyrical gift." Shocked for a second, he gained composure and ripped into it.
    "If life is a song, I’m in heavy rotation/Bars or bat mitzvahs, in every location/Not the one to skip past, a hidden track/Unlocked all for you, just spitting the facts/So this isn’t a skit, I don't chase modeling chicks/ But your persona got me disregarding this modeling quick/ So let's fast forward and skip beyond that/ And lemme give you something that you gonna wanna rewind back/We can make a hit too good to remix/And I promise to you that you’ll come first like a prefix…You ready for this?" he asked. The rhyme had her so far gone. He stared at her with his bloodshot eyes and reclined the seat back a few notches. Every level of the car reeked of absolute marijuana, as a tight lipped smile peeled from her. The aroma spiraled throughout the interior as his and her heart beat in anticipation.
    Just as fast as he questioned her, if not faster, she was out of the under attire which she swore once belonged to Jacqueline Onassis. Her privates were covered with a lightly shaved heart, symmetrically perfect at the middle of her slit. Reznor disposed of his shirt and jeans, and was liberated of articles aside from boxers and platinum chain. A sweet chocolate child he was. Shay darted her head into his platinum chain as they shared the jewelry. The cold, precious metal laid perpendicular to her spine. With youthful passion, they soul-kissed. Her tongue danced with his as she ripped his boxers off. His meat tumbled out as the head bumped into her right leg gracefully. She was impressed with the length and also the girth. It wasn’t too big and definitely not too small. The overhead light finally faded out as she straddled him in the seat.
    "Drop the roof, Reznor. I want to feel nature upon me," Shay moaned as Reznor rose with her body to appreciate the first stroke. Inside of her moist body, he felt like when he came out of her he would be born again somehow. She was all that he wanted at that point.
    "You want to feel the rain?" Reznor asked. His hands puffed up her ample breasts as he sucked each bosom back to back. He knew the rain had become a peaceful drizzle.
    "Mmm hmmm, do it," she said in a trance, still riding him leisurely. Reznor rose up and tapped the panoramic button as the rain drizzled in.
    "Shay, you’re gonna have this interior trashed…"
    "I'll buy you another interior, if need be..I'll buy you another car if I have to..."
    Shay proved that Mercedes didn't have anything on the way she rode. She had to give him something to remember because there were boatloads of women that wanted him. So in order for Reznor to keep the contact up, he would have to want her as much as she needed to feel his body. The knight in shining armor thrust his sword into her dash with the might of thunder crushing the earth's very surface. Young Rez never would have guessed Shay's womanhood was so sincerely tight. Maybe it was vinegar. His hands dug into her arms like a wolverine as he heaved her up and down upon his fired up body. The smell of weed was explicitly replaced with sex as they continued on without a drop of innocence. Her curly hair was now dripping on him even after the rain had ceased. Reznor's taste was simply divine as she pounced bite-marks upon his chest and shoulders relentlessly. His hands found sacredness along her plumpness as his lips sparked straight fire upon hers. Reznor and Shay both shared lines of admirers, but it was now themselves face to face with the one whom they admired.
    "Thank Jehova..." Shay said with her head laying against Reznor's bare chest. She licked across the bite mark before her. Reznor, with hands clutching her hips, forced her up and down once again. "I just wish you could love me like this forever."
    "I do too," Reznor said mid-stroke. She slid off of his manhood and eased into her seat. Her cum laid on his pubic hair like mini snowflakes.
    "Well, you can’t keep the world waiting. On with it, my prince,” she said as the moonroof came back over them.
    Sex wasn’t designed to be so brief. In any event, on with it she said and on with it he did. The clouds were disgruntled yet again, clearly menstrual cycling as the Benz entered the city. Thunder struck, but no bolt dared to stop his passage. Reznor’s name was chanted by the thousands in attendance. The rowdy crowd had closed the curtain on the opening acts by blatant threats and bottle throwing. Additional guards had been shuttled to the Nephthys to save the building from potential dangers. They had waited over two hours and they didn’t want their money back. What they wanted was for Reznor to step on stage. That’s all they wanted. As did his manager whose calls were automatically forwarded to Reznor’s voicemail. If he didn’t show it would be wise to alert the National Guard.
    Just when it seemed violence would ensue, Reznor hit the circular blue stage whippin’ its edges in an electric purple Lotus Evora sports car. He almost gave the front rowers a heart attack as an inch of the passenger’s side wheels were off the stage. He hopped out in a black Yves Saint-Laurent suit, casually cueing his music.
    “Hello, Metra City,” Reznor said as he bowed before the crowd. “Thank you for waiting for me.” He gazed at the many, many faces in attendance. They had been searching and now the search was over. He was there finally.
    He visited his hits from ‘Tomorrow Comes’ to ‘You Know Me.’ Some recited along with him, others just nodded intently to his one of a kind flow. When he performed ‘Ebony,’ he asked a Nubian queen to accompany him onstage. He danced with her a bit, all the while pushing his masculine melody into the microphone. Her eyes were starry as she looked on at him, hands on her waist at times. She giggled to herself as she recalled an interviewer refer to him as sexual chocolate in Eddie Murphy’s comical voice. How did such greatness arrive from Metra City? She spent most of the time wondering that and then the dance was over. Security had to pull her away as the beat came in for his monster hit ‘Don’t Doubt Me.’ The song wasn’t just another hit for him, it was thee hit.
    He rapped with authority, “Other than me, what can stop me? It’s clear I’m the worst fear of a Nazi, I can’t be carbon copied, I make the impossible possible possibly. You’re not me, so take a shot at me, realize it’s too much God in me, for you to stop the prophesy…” he concluded as the lights mysteriously went out in the building. Complete darkness. The crowd went frantic as a bright flashlight beamed across the stage only to be succeeded by dozens more. They scanned the stage searching diligently…
    “Don’t be alarmed folks. Be calm and remain in your seats. We’re only looking for Reznor Scott!!” the police chief yelled. His voice was loud enough to go without a mic and you could tell he wasn’t leaving until he found the target. His men had the crowd shook as their footsteps were heard scattering the stage in pursuit. A chance beam saw Reznor inching past the grand drape. “Open fire!!” The officers, taking heed from their chief, immediately banged out on Reznor, illuminating the darkness with gunfire. The crowd yelled in agony and screams, throwing bottles at the stage and anything else at their disposal. The lights scurried away like fireflies getting lost in the night. Shock had the attendees plastered to their seats. As the lights came back on, Reznor was stretched out on the center of the stage, his elegant suit drenched in blood. His arms were spread like an eagle’s wings and his eyes were closed to the world. Legions rushed the stage, much too many for security to detain. They crowded his space as the blood seeped towards them on the floor. A large majority of attendees stood with their mouths open, some crying freely. Minutes passed and then the tears stopped and their mouths closed as an eerie melody crept into their ears. The track was enchanting as well as familiar. Subdued by the hypnotic instrumental, the guards managed to gain control of the situation and sat the mourners back into their seats. At the same time, two men and a woman came onstage with white lab coats. After inspecting the fallen, the men carried Reznor to the Lotus as the lady got behind the wheel. After they got him inside the ride, she hit the gas and high tailed it as the men walked off the stage. Confusion sat in. People looked at each other, unnerved by the spectacle. Murmurs grew amidst the instrumental that continued to play.
    When the lights flickered, their attention went back to the stage, still soiled with Reznor’s blood. He had returned. No suit, bare topside wise. Exhibiting his slim yet toned physique, he also exposed the splats of blood above his torso in the process. He was now equipped with grey jeans and Supra Skytops. His eyes were a glowing green and he moved robotically as he accepted the microphone handed to him by the female in the lab coat. Surprisingly, he laid down a song they only heard mention of on radio interviews. No title. Never been performed for anyone. But them. The first. And regrettably the last. He dropped to his knees, feeling like the boy who cried wolf, as he smelled the blood smeared across his fingertips. Nothing smelled like blood aside from blood. He fell on the stage unable to move a thing besides his eyes. Before him was Shay in the front row, unmoved by it all. He could not hear anything aside from death calling his name. But he could read her lips. (It’s better like this) she said.
    "REZNOR!" a thin vocal chord could be heard, somehow pumped with bass.
    Squinting his eyes, Reznor entered reality. His vision was blurred. The Pippi Longstocking braided shadow before him had to be his darling sister Jasmine. She stood in the hallway teary eyed and shaken a bit. The shots he heard in his dream must have been real...He did live in Mahone, borderline hell. Still dazed, Reznor gazed at Jasmine as she stood motionless. Running to her with affection, he covered her frame with his thick comforter as sternly as he could. "It’s going to be alright, Jazzy. It’s going to be okay." Her heart could be felt beating from the side like an earthquake within her. He opened his mom’s door slightly and she was fine.
The Sandman must've given her mother a soundproof world to rest in. In the hallway Jasmine laid by his side without a word spoken. She was content as long as her brother's arms were around her. Laying there until daylight came, Reznor just looked at his sister with her sepia colored skin and long-winded hair. Reznor wished his hair grew at a similar rate because he would've got his hair braided, too. Mama Scott was a master braider. Making miracles was something she enjoyed. Jazzy’s lips were poked out as she snored lowly in her own little world. He picked her up and eased her into his comfy bed.
    Reznor looked at his G-Shock watch and saw that it was getting dangerously close to the work hour. "Oh boy," he said to himself. At least it was payday he thought. He got up at a turtle's pace and looked at his unkempt room. It was littered with rap magazines, instrumental discs, and ripped out sheets of paper laced with rap verses. It was Reznor's dream of all dreams to be a superstar rapper. He knew he was far from the only one with such aspirations, but working a 9-5 just wasn't cutting it.
    A tear almost ran down Reznor's handsome, dark face when a belated thought came. The bullets heard before the sun surfaced could've came through the apartment and very well have hit his mother, Jasmine, or himself. If such a thing were to happen…God forbid. He would immediately hold the blame. No one could convince him otherwise because he knew that he had the power to take his family out of the dirt known as Mahone. He felt that he could be the one, yet couldn’t shake the feeling of being a zero.
He had to cleanse his mind just like his body. Reznor crept into the shower like an elder and stepped out with the youth of yesteryears. Trying to block out his peculiar dream and the gunshots he heard earlier, he rushed his work clothes on and laced up his steel-toes with focus. Before he knew it, he was looking through the cracked window. There it was. The grey Windstar pushed by his homey Lando. 'Ugh.' Reznor wanted to talk to Jasmine but he didn’t want to wake her up. Fortunately enough, Lando blew the horn.
    "Rezzy," Jasmine said. Her eyes were chinked up as she resided on the bed only moving her head. "There was shooting last nite."
    "I know Jazzy, but everything's going to be okay. I promise," he said putting on his coat. "Don't think about it and do good in school for me, okay?" Reznor asked with a half-hearted smile.
    "I’m scared Reznor. Will we always live here?" she asked with a slender tear crawling down the left side of her face.
    "No, we won’t. We’re going to move. Don't worry, you know I'm here for you," Reznor said as he wiped the tears away with his pinky finger. "Just do good in school and I'll see you after work, 'kay?"
    "..." she said nothing as she approached him with a tender hug. That was excellent timing because if he stared at her a second longer he would’ve been crying with her. She relinquished her hold as the horn honked again.
    "Bye, Jazzy." Reznor eased out of the door and saw Lando laid back, pretty boy style. He kept the low caesar and his teeth immaculate. His eyes were a bold brown that made hearts skip a beat, not to mention the man was toned with a mean six-pack. Lando was carefree, drinking a coffee from 7-11. Reznor hopped in the van and asked, "You actually like that crap?"
    "It’s my second alarm clock. What took you so long?" he asked as he put his foot on the gas.
    "Man, Jazzy was scared cuz she heard gunshots early this morning. I was giving her a lil pep talk, you know, big brother stuff."
    "Mahone, Mahone. It's out of control, man. Seriously though, you are truly blessed to have survived that. You need to thank God. Bullets don't discriminate."
    "Yeah, I know...And I do thank God. For every second, every hour, every day. I hear the clock ticking, Lando. I have to do this rap thing.”
    "Yes, you do. Everybody knows you’re hot except the people that can get you exposure. I really want you to get it."
    "You and me both,” Reznor said as he shook his head. "You really think I can get into the industry?"
    "No doubt. I'm not trying to make a career out of fire watching and I know you're not. Somehow, we just have to focus on doing what we need to do to get to our destiny."
    "What a concept..." Reznor stopped mid-sentence and turned the radio up to hear the news report.
<<Larkson was shot twice in the back and was apprehended by Larchmont PD and has been taken to Metra Medical where he is in critical condition. Larkson escaped from prison mid-June and appears to have laid low until now. The other attempted bank robbers were killed in the shootout by Larchmont and Metra PD's combined efforts. The rather elusive Larkson managed to evade over a dozen police cars and make it to Mahone. Stay tuned as we talk with mayor Ritter for an unprecedented interview.>>
    "The mayor," Reznor spat with sarcasm. "Oh, no…That’s probably the shooting I heard earlier."
    “Might be, Rez.”
    “I can’t keep living like this…In this city...My destiny is bigger than this. So much bigger,” Reznor said with despair.
    “I know...I believe you. You’re not like most guys," Lando said. Reznor looked up at Lando blankly. "In a good way, though,” Lando said. “I’m sure your time will come. Better yet, I know it.”