Kev finished his sandwich and checked his watch. 1:30. He glanced between Talon and Sabrina, thinking of how to excuse himself to get his shave. He knew Talon had said Sabrina didn't like doctors, and while Max was a good sport, Kev didn't want to subject Vlad to Sabrina's scrutiny. He had a feeling the bat man wouldn't find her "feisty" personality nearly as charming as the fox did.
Sabrina rolled over and said, "Now that I've fed you, it's time to pay up, my transparent friend."
Kev said, "And what can this humble human do for you, madam?"
Sabrina said, "Hand over your lighter."
Kev felt the lighter in his pocket, a gift from Horns when Kev asked for cigarettes to help his nerves on the first day. Kev said, "You don't have any matches?"
Sabrina said, "This isn't about what I may or may not have. It's about payment for lunch."
Kev sighed and held up his lighter, saying, "This was a gift from-"
Sabrina snatched it quickly and said, "You shouldn't pay off your debts with gifts."
Talon didn't look up from his book, saying, "Be nice, Sabrina."
Sabrina said, "Nice is overrated. You saw how well nice worked on that idiot pig in the park."
"This isn't the park," Talon gently reminded his sister.
"No, this is the city's dirty secret sex and fighting club. So much better, brother."
Kev said, "It's no big deal, but, uh… I think I need to head back to my room for a bit."
Sabrina eyed Kev and said, "Oh really? We'll join you. I can't bear to sit around while brother has his beak in that boring book."
"It's alright, Sabrina. It shouldn't take long," Kev said, trying to sound nonchalant.
Sabrina rolled to Kev, "Entertain me, human."
Kev coughed and avoided Sabrina's eyes, saying, "Uhh, really, I'll just be back."
Talon said, "We can join you." Kev wished he had a way to tell Talon he was going down to the med bay for a shave without triggering Sabrina's interest.
"I have to use the bathroom," Kev looked between the avian siblings and finally said.
Talon looked over the book and said, "We have a bathroom," gesturing off to the closed door between his and his sister's bedrooms.
"No way, brother, that's my bathroom!" Sabrina then turned to Kev and said, "Go do your dirty mammal business, I can't believe you even said that."
"You can't believe I said something... really?" Kev said, raising an eyebrow.
Sabrina raised her beak and said, "Have some class."
Kev looked over at Talon, who actually looked like he was trying to repress a laugh. Kev shook his head and smiled, saying, "I'll be back later or whatever. If I'm not, you can just come over at the normal time, Talon."
Talon said, "Don't leave the building," not looking up from his book.
Kev said, "Of course not. I don't think we have porta-potties anyways."
Sabrina said, "Ugggg, get out of here if you're just going to be gross."
"Alright, later." Kev left the apartment, glad he was able to depart without Sabrina tagging along for his shave.
Kev walked through the quiet second-floor hallway, his footsteps absorbed by the plush carpet. Instead of the dancing, mysterious torchlight of the evenings, the sun poured in through the tall, arched windows, brightening the normally candle-lit halls and giving them a grand, almost peaceful air. Kev walked leisurely through the club, his earlier anxieties replaced by a comfortable familiarity. It really was spotless and clean; not a stray napkin, not a sticky spot on the polished wood floor. Even the glass panes covering the myriad lanterns and chandeliers were free of soot and smudges, gleaming in the stray sunbeams.
He descended the grand staircase and made his way back to the east wing. He passed the bar, the large dance room now vast and cavernous, echoing with a profound silence. The usual smell of stale booze and sweat was gone, replaced by the clean, slightly sharp scent of wood polish and disinfectant. As he passed the auditorium, the silence was broken by the faint, lovely sound of musicians practicing, a slow, melodic string piece that drifted through the empty club. He nodded at a couple of burly cleaners who were working in the fighting pit room, raking the sand and scrubbing what he now knew were bloodstains from the stone walls.
He found himself outside of Vlad's medical room before he knew it. Kev reached up and knocked on the door.
The door swung open silently, and Vlad stood there, tall and menacing in his crisp white medical gown. The gown was immaculately clean, almost glowing under the harsh light of the medical bay, and his sharp, dark eyes, accustomed to the dimness of the club, seemed to pierce right through Kev. "I was expecting you," Vlad said, his voice a dry whisper.
Kev swallowed and forced a smile. "Hey, Vlad. Hope the day has been less exciting," he said, walking in. The medical room looked the same as yesterday, sterile and cold, but Kev's eyes were immediately drawn to the back corner. A white, sterile-looking sheet was draped over a form lying on the cot where Perry had been. It was undeniably the shape of a beastman. Kev could make out the distinct, rigid outline of feet at one end and, at the other, the pronounced shape of a snout tenting the white fabric.
Kev's stomach did a slow, cold somersault. He gulped and looked at Vlad, who was now standing over the stainless steel table that held his equipment, his long, bony fingers arranging a set of gleaming instruments. Kev nervously asked, "Is Perry okay?"
"Oh, Perry will be okay," Vlad said, not looking up from his work. "I know he was eager to get back to work."
Kev sat down in the chair in the middle of the room, the leather cool against his clammy skin. "So soon? Can he move with his wing broken?"
"Perry is in a harness that will hold his wing," Vlad explained, his voice still a calm, detached whisper. "He just can't sleep on his back for a couple of weeks while it heals."
"I'm glad he's okay," Kev said, his voice a little shaky. He glanced back at the body under the sheet. If it wasn't Perry… then who was it?
Vlad approached, holding a shiny metal tray which now held his scalpel and a small, porcelain bowl filled with white, foamy cream. He said, his voice a low, almost clinical whisper, "You know, I can perform all sorts of treatments. Have you ever thought about getting fur grafts? You might find having a full coat is better than getting this… shearing… done."
Kev coughed and said, "This is how humans look. I'm not missing fur, I just… don't have much."
Vlad looked over Kev again, his sharp eyes filled with an unsettling curiosity. "Fascinating," he murmured. He gently took Kev's wrist in his bony hand and lifted it, his long, pointed finger tracing a path along the delicate skin. "I can see your veins right through your skin."
Kev pulled his hand back, a shiver running down his spine. "Yeah, I'm a bit pale now, but I should tan a little bit now that I'm spending some time outside each day."
Vlad looked at him, his head tilting to one side. "Tan? What does that mean?"
Kev said, "The more time I spend outside, my skin will naturally darken over time."
Vlad nodded slowly, his gaze still fixed on Kev with an unnerving intensity. "How dark does your skin become? Are you really a nocturnal creature?"
"Just a bit darker," Kev said. "I'd still stick out at night."
Vlad began putting the shaving cream on Kev's face, his touch surprisingly light. "I would really enjoy learning more about your biology," he said, his voice a low, clinical murmur.
Kev coughed. "Sorry, but I think that would make Fang jealous."
Vlad flatly said, "Don't be silly. If I don't even know about your skin, how could I help you if you got injured?"
Kev thought about it while Vlad picked up his scalpel and began shaving. Kev's heartbeat wasn't going at its usual rapid pace as he watched Vlad work. The routine, though unsettling, was becoming strangely familiar. Even Vlad's concerning, lingering stare at his jugular vein only brought a faint wince of unease to Kev. The real thing that made him uncomfortable, the thing that made the hairs on his arms stand on end, was the still, sheet-draped body in the corner of the room. He kept quiet while Vlad worked, the bat's hand steady and efficient. Within minutes, Vlad was wiping away the remnants of shaving foam with a hot towel.
Vlad brought his tray back to the table against the wall as Kev sat up and rubbed his chin. Even without looking in a mirror, Kev could tell Vlad's shave was just as good as the first time. Hopping off the chair, Kev said, "I appreciate the shave as always, Vlad."
The bat turned back and said, "Of course, Mr. Kev. You know, Lanon would be most upset if I shirked this task."
Kev said, "Oh, I didn't think Lanon would be too invested in my shaves."
"That iguana is very interested in you," Vlad said.
Kev laughed nervously and said, "I hope I didn't offend him."
"Not in the least," Vlad said. "He says you've helped him with a breakthrough, whatever that means."
Kev said, "Oh, I haven't even talked with Lanon for a while. That's good, though."
Vlad said, "You find Lanon's interest good?"
Kev said, "Uhh, yes."
Vlad shook his head and said, "I guess you're quite interesting. Have a good day."
Kev stood by the door and said, "Thanks again, but… who is that under the sheet?"
Vlad looked back and said, "Oh, just another one of the club's guests."
Kev was about to ask for more information when Vlad said, "Don't forget to come by if you want any work done."
Kev shuddered and said, "Of course, Vlad. See you later." Kev turned to escape the medical bay and its bloodthirsty doctor. Even if Vlad was professional, he just made Kev nervous.
Kev walked back towards the main bar, the unsettling image of the sheet-draped body still fresh in his mind. He still had a couple of hours until he needed to get ready for the night. As he walked down the east wing hall, the air, usually filled with a hushed stillness during the day, was now pierced by a deep, resonant sound. It wasn't a melody, not exactly, but a series of low, sonorous notes, some plucked sharp and others droning with a vibrating intensity.
Curiosity overriding his unease, Kev followed the sound to an ajar door. He peeked his head into the room. It was a small, cozy sitting room, but the walls were covered in thick, dark red velvet panels, and a heavy carpet absorbed all echo, clearly designed for soundproofing. A few candles flickered on small tables, casting a warm, intimate glow.
Inside, a giraffe-man stood, his back mostly to the door. Kev recognized him instantly. This was the musician Asmodeus had been tearing into last week, the one he'd called Gerald. The giraffe was dressed simply in black slacks and a white, half-buttoned shirt, his bow tie hanging undone around his neck. He was so incredibly tall that his neck arched down in a long, elegant curve, his head nearly parallel to the floor so he could see the strings of the massive stand-up bass he was playing. In his hands, the instrument, which would have towered over Kev, looked almost like a child's toy. His long, graceful fingers walked up and down the thick strings, pulling out the deep, thrumming notes that had drawn Kev in.
Kev listened for a bit, captivated by the raw, earthy sound. The giraffe stopped suddenly, the abrupt silence making Kev jump. The tall musician turned his head, his large, gentle brown eyes landing on Kev in the doorway. He just stared, his expression one of pure surprise.
Feeling he'd been caught, Kev pushed the door open a little more, offering a small, apologetic smile. "Sorry for barging in on your practice," he said, his voice quiet in the soundproofed room.
The giraffe man nervously murmured, "Oh, it's okay. I was just finishing up anyways," and began to put his things away, his long, graceful limbs moving with a sudden, awkward haste.
"Don't stop on my account," Kev said quickly. "I was just passing by, and I think that bass line you were playing was for one of my songs."
The giraffe's eyes lit up, his head lowering in a slow, elegant arc. "That's right," he said, his voice a surprisingly gentle baritone. "You're the human, aren't you?"
Kev smiled. "And I didn't even need to tell you. My name's Kev, by the way. It's good to meet you."
The giraffe shook Kev's hand, his own hand large and surprisingly cool. "I'm Gerald."
"Your bass playing is really good," Kev said.
Gerald smiled softly, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks. "That's very kind of you to say."
Kev nodded. "Are you practicing out here to avoid Asmodeus?"
Gerald grinned, his long eyelashes fluttering. "I didn't say that."
"I understand," Kev said. "He can be a bit of a perfectionist."
"Just a bit," Gerald said, a hint of wry amusement in his voice.
"He must trust you a lot," Kev remarked.
Gerald raised an eyebrow. "It doesn't matter if he trusts me or not," he said, his smile fading slightly. "He wants results, not friends."
"But still," Kev pressed, "playing rhythm is the most important part, especially without a conductor."
Gerald laughed, a low, pleasant sound that filled the small room. "You sound like you know a bit about playing in a band."
"No," Kev replied, shaking his head. "I just know how hard it is to keep a steady beat."
Gerald smiled and said, "I guess you really are the composer."
Kev laughed, a bit surprised. "Oh, do people think I didn't write those songs?"
Gerald shook his head, the motion slow and almost hypnotic on his long, elegant neck. "Just normal musician gossip," he said, his baritone voice a soothing rumble. "You know how it is."
Kev, in fact, did not know. He just shrugged.
Gerald continued, his gentle brown eyes apologetic. "No one has heard 'human' music before. There are some that think you might have passed off human folk songs."
Kev laughed again, a more genuine, easy sound this time. "If I was a better musician, I might have," he admitted, "but I can't play tunes by ear like Asmodeus.
Everything I play, I've written."
"Really?" Gerald said, leaning his head down slightly, his expression one of genuine surprise. "You're not a trained musician?"
Kev shook his head, a hint of old frustration touching his features before he smoothed it away. "I wanted to be, but I'm not skilled enough to make it a job."
Gerald seemed to ponder this, his large eyes thoughtful. "Your songs are quite different," he mused. "Do these songs not appeal to humans?"
"Oh, I'm sure they do," Kev said, a wry smile on his face. He paused, trying to think of how to explain it. "But… everyone wants to be a rock star."
Gerald tilted his head, his brow furrowed in utter, placid confusion. His long eyelashes blinked slowly. "Rock star? What does that mean?"
Kev, surprised by Gerald's confusion, said, "Oh, just that everyone wants to be a popular musician."
"Oh," Gerald rumbled, his voice a low, thoughtful hum. "I'm sure a lot of young ones feel that way."
Kev nodded and said, "Nothing makes you re-think your life goals like trying to busk and making no money."
Gerald nodded slowly, a gentle, understanding look in his large brown eyes. "Not many people would tip a bass player."
Kev nodded and said, "Because they don't realize who's driving the bus."
"Bus?" Gerald repeated, his head tilting again in that slow, inquisitive way.
Kev grinned. "Oh, it's just a human music saying. The rhythm section drives the bus and sets the pace."
Gerald's lips twitched into a wide, pleasant smile. "Oh yes," he said, his voice resonating with a quiet pride. "I guess I'm the bus driver."
Kev nodded. "Well, I don't wanna keep you from your practice. It was nice to meet you, Gerald."
Gerald slowly nodded and said, "It was nice to meet you too, Mr. Kev. I'll be sure to let the others know that these are your songs."
"Don't worry about it," Kev said. "See you around." Kev saw himself out and heard Gerald begin to pluck away at the bass as he walked down the hall, back to the grand staircase.
Back on the quiet second floor, Kev checked his watch again. 2:30. The shave and the unexpected meeting with Gerald had taken longer than he'd thought. There were still a few hours until he needed to get ready for the night. He paused, considering his options. Should he head back to kill more time with Talon and Sabrina? Or should he let them relax? He'd been spending most of the past few days with them, and a nagging thought suggested they might appreciate a bit of downtime, a chance to settle into their new home without his constant, curious presence.
With a soft sigh, Kev entered his apartment. The open windows cast beams of late afternoon light across the floor, and a gentle breeze, carrying the faint scent of the park, stirred the drapes. He emptied his pockets onto the coffee table, the silver cigarette case, the heavier-than-expected keychain, his lighter. He got a glass of water from the kitchen, the cool liquid a welcome relief. His head swirled with the events of the day: Horns's emotional breakdown, Cindy's maternal interrogation, Max sleeping on his couch, Talon's usual intensity, Sabrina's chaotic energy, and Vlad… He didn't want to think about Vlad and the sheet-draped body right now. He sat down on the couch, the plush cushions embracing his weary frame, and felt utterly exhausted. He hadn't even gone through the real trials of the night yet.
Kev lay down, intending just to rest his eyes for a moment, but the accumulated weight of the past weeks, the emotional roller coaster of his strange new life, pulled him under. He was asleep within minutes.