[Bl Dark Romance] Pretty Boy: Twist Of Citrus Season One by Your Daddy at Inkitt

S1:E1 | | Property

[PRETTY BOY: TWIST OF CITRUS | SEASON ONE]

[PLAYLIST]

https://music.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLrQcR2FXEc2tr4J-njCX_DW6B3m2bS7It&feature=shared

Episode 1: Property

I was gonna get arrested.

I could feel it.

“Bring it in, Rembrandt.” The guard said through my comms.

My amber eyes moved over the instruments on my dash, pausing to think, to rifle through the subtext of the moment. To sit in it… I hated these guys so bad.

“Fine.” I said back, finally going about the business of throttling back my acceleration from walk to crawl.

I adjusted my pitch and yaw, moving in to dock with the Indo-Japan gate’s pre-inspection pathway. It forked off of the main skyway leading from the real into that dark passageway that led to the illusion.

An entire world simulated through an underlying substructure. Some people said it was the power of Deus Ex Machina. The god in the machine. The thing that made the world beyond the world so real.

“Bring it in.” The guard bitched again through my comms and I rolled my eyes.

“Okay! Relax… for the love of Lust, man.” I fussed back, angling the ship out of the main sky lane.

I looked out through the windshield of my small frigate, looking and marveling at the size of the gate. Indo-Japan Gate was massive. Like all of the other 5 gates that connected the real to the illusion, it was beyond monumental. Ancient tech fusing together into a giant, pyramid shaped metal and stone structure that housed at its center the inky black gape of the passage into…

Elsewhere…

I still couldn’t quite wrap my mind around it. Even as my ship cut to the left, slowly moving down and into the narrow passageway that allowed me to dock with the security check in station.

“Power down.” The voice came again.

“I am.” I bit back, adjusting my instruments, flicking off parts of my One Logic drive one at a time.

Out here, outside of the illusion, One Logic drives didn’t do anything. Each and every one of them was strapped to a more tertiary form of propulsion. Jet Fuel. Though to be fair, they’d at least made them efficient enough to barely be a problem.

What with the real being a desolate wasteland, that was important. Jet fuel pulled a premium.

My amber eyes squinted as I moved my frigate into the darkness, slowly finishing the power down cycle, reaching up above my head to flick down the locking gear.

I could feel the hard thump of my ship slotting into the grapple coupler. Feeling it shake the entire body of the ship as I stood.

I already knew how this was gonna go. Same way it always went. Blowing a sigh, I zipped my shipmate’s jacket closed, leaving a part of it open near the neckline to signal my white sash. The mark of The Silence.

Moments later, the loading lip of my ship was lowering with a hiss, slowly descending to the dock floor, exposing the inside of my cargo hold as I marched down the walkway. I could already see them. Gathering at the bottom.

Three soldiers dressed in the typical attire of the Trigate Federation. Something between cowboys and… ninjas I couldn’t help but think.

I couldn’t stop watching old holo’s from when Earth was Earth. Back before it was a big ball of useless dirt housing a small but thriving contingent of people who refused to set foot in the illusion.

I could understand why… not everybody was ready to accept a world where they were nothing but hard light.

Like the rest of us.

“Come on down, Rembrandt.” One of them said, beckoning me with a hand before tipping the brim of his Trigate hat up.

He looked proud of that sleek cowboy hat. I hated it.

I could see that Punch Cannon revolver housed at his side. He knew how to use it. One Logic. Nobody carried a Punch Cannon unless they knew how to use it. It fired concentrated Resonance Rounds after all. This fucking loser was actually a Dharma Yog.

“Willowy…”

“Wullorie. Stop being a dick.”

“That’s what I said,” I smiled, hands out at my sides in mock surrender.

God I hated this clown. Thank the Logic that I only had to deal with him four times a year.

“Shut up, Uno. Just hurry up and get down here. Pretty little shit.” He said and the other two guards breathed superior chuckles.

I blew a tight sigh and finished my descent, finally coming to a stop in front of them.

That’s when it occurred to me. How much bigger they were to me. Not that it was hard to do. I was only five-foot-four.

“What’s on board?” Wullorie asked. “Same as always, Willow.”

“Wullorie.”

“That’s what I said,” I repeated. On purpose.

I knew I shouldn’t needle him, but I really wanted to, my amber eyes staring hard at him.

Least until both of his hands snapped up my jacket lapels and hauled me in close.

“You realize if your daddy wasn’t Berchinald Rembrandt, I’d beat the dog shit out of you, right?”He nabbed me so quick- honestly it surprised me. My eyes shot wide.

He jarred my entire body, head snapping up to look at him in those angry hazel irises.

Defiance was painted all over my face.

At least before my eyes retreated. I knew better.

“So how’s dear ol’ dad doin’ these days, huh, Kiddo?”

I hesitated to answer. I knew what he was doing.

Trying to provoke me.

I let my eyes stay glued to the wall. Off of him.

“He’s fine, Wullorie… not that I’d know. Haven’t seen him in three months.”

“People don’t tend to hang out with their insurance policies.”

“Fuck you, man.” I sighed, my shoulders sinking.

The guards all shared a laugh.

“I’m just bustin’ your girly balls, Pretty Boy,” he said, and I hated him for it. Everyone took the low road.

“Oh! I get it. I look like a chick. Hilarious. When aren’t you busting my, ‘Girl Balls’?” I asked, throwing sarcastic air quotes, slowly turning my head back to him, staring up with a bored expression akin to grass drying in the sun.

“When I’m busting you in that pretty little mouth.”

“… I mean, if you were better looking, we could talk about it…”

He threw hot water in my face.

Scalding. Fucking. Hot.

Or at least that’s what my mind told me.

In reality, his palm fired across my face so hard it startled me. It rocked me to the left and I spun to the ground.

Without thinking I was up. Bursting into motion, snarling as I closed the distance between us, getting right up in his paunchy fucking face.

“Hit me again…” I warned quietly, fire in my eyes as the two other guards started moving in, their arms extended between us. I didn’t care that I was nearly a foot shorter than him.

“Eeeeasy, guys… Fox’ll have all of our asses if we start a fight at a gate. Can we bring it in and pull it down?” One of the others said.

“I’ll bring you in and pull it down.” I shot at him without taking my eyes off Wullorie.

“What?” The guard fired back, face scrunching up at my lame attempt at a punchy retort.

I tried to hide my embarrassment, looking around a little.

“Nothin’. Look, can we just get this over with? Are you inspecting my ship or not?” I asked.

Wullorie gave me a shove and I let him. Fading back a step or two.

I knew how this worked. I was the runt. I was the problem child. I was the one with the Prime Minister daddy.

So to speak.

Sadly Wullorie wasn’t wrong. I was an insurance policy.

“So tell me how that works again? The old man had you cloned cus he can’t have a son?”

“No. He had me cloned because he only had daughters. Those things are different.” I probably could have said it nicer.

“You look like a daughter,” Wullorie laughed and the other two joined him.

“Yeah, yeah, Wullorie. I know,” I said, smiling sarcastically as I tipped my chin down, throwing my amber eyes at him like weapons. “You wanna fuck me.”

He slapped the other side of my face.

Hard.

By then it was on.We were tussling, shoving, pulling. I was losing. He was way bigger than me and I wasn’t in the illusion. The strength differential mattered out here.

He hauled me off of my feet by the collar of my long coat again after shoving his buddies off of him.

“Get the fuck off me!” He snarled, breaking free of their hands as he bashed my back into a stack of metal military crates.

“Nngh!” The sound came out of me so hard my lip curled. “Fuck— okay, okay!” I said, both hands coming up. “It was a joke! Relax.”

“Oh, no, no. Please. Keep jokin’, Pretty Boy. Give me a reason to thump you.”

“You don’t want me to make that j— GGHN!” His fist blasted into my stomach and by then the other two guards were pulling him off.

And thank God, cus that big moose would pound my face into the ground out here. Especially since I couldn’t fight him back without pissing off my employer.

The Silence.

I collapsed to the ground, clutching my gut, trying not to vomit.

Fuck he hit me hard. I couldn’t breathe for a long, heavy moment. He shoved his way free again and came over to me. Stood over me glaring down.

“Get the fuck back on that ship and get outta my sight.” He ground the words out, glaring down at me.

I moved to get up but couldn’t. Wullorie grabbed one of my French braids and forced me onto my knees, tugging hard, making my head tilt.

“A—ahhh!” I whined, “Not even gonna inspect me?” I grunted out as my smaller hand gripped his wrist. “Nnh!” He snatched my braid harder, forcing my compliance.

I shut my mouth.

“Oh… right…” He grinned wickedly. “Sure…” Looking back at the other guards he said, “Send the drones on. Fuck his ship up.” His head turned back to me. “Just sit tight, Cutie.”

“Wait, what!? Come on!” He threw my head aside with a shove and I forced myself to shut up again.

I tried to walk past him to stop them as the drones headed up the ramp onto my ship but he tugged me back down to the floor with my braid.

“Be still, Rembrandt. Do it,” Wullorie said, nudging his head as the drones looked back for confirmation, then headed on, marching up the ramp.

One of them, a small flying probe, scuttled over through the air to scan my retinas as I glared at it.

Not that I had a choice. Wullorie had me by the hair, forcing me to comply.

I just sighed and sat Indian style on the floor.

“That’s right. Sit tight,” he said, pat-patting my head.

I wanted to punch him in the nuts. I hated when people touched my God damn head.

I let my mind find a place inside that had no thoughts as I felt Wullorie leave my side.

A place that had no me. No self. I let the feeling of having a body disappear into the ether and let only presence exist. I felt just me. Just the self.

The internal observer.

And just like that… time stopped mattering.

Until Wullorie’s hand clapped the back of my braided head.

“Get up. You’re clear.”

I snapped my eyes open at the blow. Glared my amber weapons up, but only for a moment. I was done challenging the moose. Instead I entertained the wall with my stare again.

I got to my feet just as Wullorie’s hand found my chin. Forcing me to look up at him.

“What?” I hissed quietly. Irritated.

“Travel safe, Rembrandt.” He chuckled. “Enjoy the mess we left you.” He said, shoving the side of my head.

I stumbled from the shove and turned away, heading towards the loading ramp of my ship.

When I turned to look back at the three of them, it was with murder in my eyes. They knew I’d had enough. I could see it on their faces.

“There’s no one in this room under the delusion that either of you… individually or collectively are enough for me.”

Silence followed and I turned, finishing my march up onto my ship.

I looked around the dock of my small schooner frigate. Every metal crate I’d loaded on board back in the real sat toppled, emptied. They hacked every lock and left medical supplies, beams of lignum wood and metal ore strewn about. It looked like most of the mess was made on purpose.

How long was I meditating?

I looked around the cargo hold, hearing the ramp slowly raise behind me.

They fucked. My ship. Up.

I almost couldn’t believe it.

“Are you fucking serious, man…?” I whined as the ramp sealed with a cold, emotionless clunk.

The only answer a guy like me would ever get. Cold and irreverent.

Silence.

Nothing made me feel more like a second class citizen.

Like a clone.

This is what it feels like…

When all you are is property.

I felt the weight of my life like a mantle on my shoulders in moments like this.