The Nosferatu Adventures
page 343, chapter 343
Instability on Stage 5
Finn reached out and slapped the little silver box hard with his palm, causing the high pitched beeping to finally stop. Rolling over in the bed, the male yawned as he threw the covers off. He really hated mornings. Swearing, his left hand then slammed hard into the door frame as he nearly tripped over one of the cats. The large tabby hissed as it jumped up from it's spot on the floor, racing out into the hallway. Closing his own emerald coloured eyes, Finn rotated his shoulders trying to get the kinks out. Walking past the bathroom he told the locked door to hurry up as he continued on towards the kitchen. "Ah you little shacking..." he shook his head as he spotted the trash knocked over and two of the black cats guarding their treasure. The two felines were batting around a large piece of watermelon rind like a couple of hockey players. "If I go into the other room and see the jar of catnip empty you're both in big trouble." Peeking into the dimly lit living room, Finn swore once again as he saw not only the jar of catnip knocked off the shelf, but tiny paw prints having left a trail of spilled oils leading around the window seat.
"By the way, your cats got into my stuff again." Bryon said too casually as he walked out of the bathroom and into the living room; which looked like it belonged on the set of a late night B-movie. Grabbing a silver skull shaped lighter off the coffee table which itself was coffin shaped, the dark haired goth lit a cigarette.
"And you didn't bother to clean any of it up?" Finn asked crossing his arms over his chest. The shorter male shrugged as he backed out of the room, moving his hands in circles.
"They're your cats." Bryon tossed the sentence over his shoulder, his teeth clenched tight around the stem of the cigarette. Smoke rippled from his nose as he did, putting Finn in mind of a dragon. Letting out a sigh himself, Finn dropped his arms before following his friend back into the kitchen. Leaning on the edge of the counter, the taller male changed the topic.
"Your groupies were by again last night." his short hair was the colour of wet sand streaked with grey and sun-bleached blonde. "You really need to take care of that. I can't keep covering for you." Finn commented as he tore a few paper towels off the roll and began cleaning up the trash.
"Just keep the doors locked. No big deal." Bryon replied as he stumped out the end of the cigarette pouring himself a glass of juice.
"It's a funeral home. Not really an option." he stretched his arm around one of the black cats as it purred contentedly licking it's whiskers. Finn rested his forehead against the top of the cat's head, making a soft purring sound himself.
"Sure you can. After 7pm, you lock the doors. No one needs to be there after that."
"Um...whatever man." Finn mumbled as he stood back up shooing the cats out of the way. "Look, my car's in the shop. I need to grab a ride to work with you."
"Okay. We just need to stop by the television studio on the way. I left my script there and I need to learn my lines before tonight."
Forty-Five minutes later...
The hearse: the one with the company logo, pulled up into the parking lot of the television studio; as Bryon checked his hair in the rear view once more before climbing out. Finn was nearly on his heels as he followed.
"I'm coming with you. Make sure you don't get sidetracked anymore than you already have." he pointed at the shorter goth as they crossed the threshold of the lobby. Tilting his chin, Finn pulled the little round sunglasses down his nose as he gazed around the place. The studio was empty and lent itself to a creepy feeling. "Any idea where you left it?"
"I must have dropped it in the props room." Bryon commented as he turned towards the hallway leading to it. Finn nearly slammed into his friend as he turned the corner to find Bryon hesitating at the doorway of the props room.
"We going in or what?"
"Yeah, just waiting for you." the tone was suppose to be sarcastic but came across with more queasiness than it should. He spotted the script about a foot from the edge of the mirror, but didn't move to collect it. The dark haired goth gulped a large amount of air rubbing his palms over his jeans.
"Are you alright?" Finn asked as he walked around the props room playing with rubber swords and feeling up the crushed velvet curtains that hung over a chair. "For the love of...lazy." Finn mumbled as he scooped up the script handing it to his friend. "Here you go my Highness." Snatching it from him, Bryon screwed up his nose before turning on his heels desperate to leave the room. "What is with you today?" Finn asked as they stepped out of the props room and back into the hallway; promptly slamming into someone.
"Bryon." Our heroine said smiling.
"See, groupies." Finn gestured towards our heroine and Edric.
"Oh my god, Finn." our heroine reached over hugging the taller male.
Tune in again for another installment of the Nosferatu Adventures starring your heroine...me (straight up story. Yeah, I know I'm over a week late with it.)
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