jay_icon.gif raquelle_icon.gif

Scene Title Hellride
Synopsis Lost and late, Jay needs a ride
Date November 02, 2009

Cambria Salon and Day Spa

Tranquil and Fabulous wrapped up in warm and inviting colors and the sleek lines of Japanese architecture…Cambria Salon and Day Spa is a fashionable paradise. Dark almost black wood paneling has been used through out the hotel, fresh flowers are found in glass vases and exchanged with flower shaped candles every day at 4 PM. There is a different theme for just about every day of the week, but nothing set in stone. There are 8 or so individual work stations with leaf shaped mirrors and comfortable chairs. There are a couple of private rooms for waxing, facials and massages and the like including a private station and office for the owner. The reception area is designed for comfort with the black seats and couches, glass coffee tables and glass/wood reception desk. Over all the salon is edgy and sleek, it is Cambria Salon and Day Spa.

Whenever it is, it's fairly late, probably getting close to curfew - or possibly past it. That Jake shows up here in his sloshed state is either a stroke of luck or genius - the lights were on, and thus he comes up and tries the door, even knocks. The boy does not look reputable - he's got that slightly glazed drunk look and is wearing a black shirt with the outline of a stripper on a pole on it, captioned "I SUPPORT SINGLE MOMS."

"BLON-" Oh wait, Raquelle is here alone for once, finishing up some or another and he gives a tiny flail. This was supposed to be a quick in and out! He makes his way to the front door wearing a pair of fitted black jeans, black and purple docs on his feet and a purple and black flannel shirt that is sleeveless and left unbuttoned for the most part. Hair, Make-up…Piercings, everything in for the night as he holds his appointment book and peeks out that front door, unlocking it and making a face as he mouths. "Oh honey, are you okay?" Through that door.

Cue blinking. Jay's not used to being called 'honey'. His brows furrow. "Can I use your phone? Mine's fritzing." …He squints at Raq just a little suspiciously - and then his eyes travel past the man to… OH! A hair salon. That does explain it - sort of.

Raquelle shakes his head slowly and opens the door a bit, expression wary but concerned. "Lovely…shirt." Blinkblink and he nods. "Oh of course, go right away darling…aren't you just tall, not quite dark and gorgeous. GAH, hurry hurry now, there are cavities to get."

"What?" But Jake makes his way in, tugs on his shirt just a bit, and clears his throat. "Where's the phone?" This entire business has him looking just a little… unsettled. Skittish, really. He shoves his hands in his pockets and lurks his way over towards the front desk on the vague presumption that this might just be the spot to go look.

Raquelle rolls his eyes, shutting and locking the door reflexively before moving back to the front desk with a soft chuckle. "Just there behind the desk, unless you need a cell…then I can go look and see if one of the girls left their own." He brushes his emo fringe out of his face with a flick of a finger and settles down on a chair behind the front desk, flipping back open his appointment book and squinting as he writes something down.

"Right. Okay." Jake leeeeeeans around the front desk, nearly falls over, catches it, and picks up the phone. Then? Out comes a notebook, which gets flipped through. "Uh, do I have to dial anything to dial out?" It's a business. Those come with multiple lines sometimes. …Doesn't look like a big business, but it's polite to ask.

Raquelle shakes his head. "Mm-mm sweetums, just dial unless you're calling long distance." He writes something else down before dipping into the jar with the lollpops and pulling out a few to offer to Jay with a quirk of an eyebrow. "And relax, it is a salon not an S&M dungeon."

That particular comment gets a coughing fit - and then a splutter of laughter. "Oh, yeah, right, the scary gay guy is gonna kidnap me for nefarious evils, oh noes." The snickering doesn't stop. He squints at the notebook and starts dialing, though. This is a rather careful process. "Though to hear the other guys talk you'd think gay men raped them when they were kids or something." Eyeroll. Pause. Is that a six or a nine? He squints at his own handwriting.

And then the dialing pauses, because oh look, candy! Jake swipes some. Yes, he takes candy from strangers. The irony of this during this conversation is completely lost on him, too.

Raquelle pauses in writing to just stare at Jay for a few moments. "Awww, I ain't that scary and I do bite but you're too fresh for me sweetling…" He drawls before letting his hand drop away from offering the candy so he can continue organizing his schedule. "They're just afraid of being curious and free and such." Then he's back to writing.

"Got that right," Jake mutters, and decides that's a six. Punch, then he rips the candy open with his teeth and works on getting it loose while the phone rings. And rings. Down goes the notebook - full of phone numbers - and he uses both hands on the lollipop, phone pressed to shoulder. "Shit." Voicemail. He pops the lollipop into his mouth, punches the hangup button, and dials the number again, just in case. "Whacha mean I'm too young?" gets added while the phone is ringing. "Good god, I am not a fucking twink!" Cue an eyeroll.

Raquelle hms and smirks gently as he leans back in his chair a bit to listen quietly to the guest. He taps a glossy black nail against the desk before tsking softly. "My my my, you've got a mouth on you don't you." Then he blinks. "I said you were too fresh, not too young. Get it right and no, you aren't a twink because you haven't that 'awwwwwww so adorable' ness about you and the twinkie swagger now do you?" He shakes his head.

"Thank fucking god," Jay says, heartfelt - but right then the phone picks up. "Hey, Alan, it's Jake. You mind picking me up?" Pause. "Oh fuck, you're smashed, aren't you. Dude, take a taxi." Silent facepalm - his eyes slide shut and exasperation appears. "No, I'll catch up with you guys later. Stay outta trouble." Slump. Sigh. "You lost me like, three bars ago. Not my fault you can't keep track. Free drinks and a hot blond, dude, would you turn that down?" And suddenly Jake's smirking. "Fuck off, Alan." And he hangs up, eyes the phone with pure amusement, and then drags his attention back to Raq. "Sorry, I'm a bit plastered. I tend to cuss when I'm drunk. Um. Mind if I make one more call? Dude's too drunk to come get me."

Raquelle watches Jay with a thoughtful expression, shrugging and gesturing towards the phone once more as he shakes that had and just laughs softly, nose wrinkling and pen moving across the pages of his book. "Help yourself, I'd rather you get a ride than try to drive home yourself anyways."

"No car. Alternative's cab and I'm flat broke this week." Jay smiles wryly. "At this point I've gotta hope either my brother's friend is free and willing, or that my brother hasn't spent this week's allowance and can send me a cab." The notebook gets flipped to another page, a different number picked out. "Cross yer fingers for me." And he punches the second number and squints at the phone.

"You can't pay for a cab, I will hon." Raquelle offers easily enough. "Made more than enough in tips today to handle something like that." He waves his pen like a wand and bites his bottom lip as he taps his pen against his own notebook and watching Jay like a hawk.

"Naah." Jake looks up from dialing and squints again. "Worst comes to worst I'll just… climb your building and hop my way home. Cops don't look up. Usually." Cue a sheepish grin and then a punching of the last number. Riiiiiing. He tries not to look impatient.

Raquelle stares at Jake for a few moments, blinking several times before sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. "This might not be an S&M dungeon but I still have stuff to tie people down if I have to so please don't do anything stupid." He sounds vaguely amused though, shaking his head and sighing.

"It's just vertical travel instead of horizontal, and most of it's horiz…" Pause, sudden distracted look. "Hey." Pause. "Shit. Yes, I am at a hair salon." And then Jake laughs. "It was the only thing open this late. I need a ride." And the other side of the phone starts talking. Jake begins to look guilty. His shoulders sorta hunch, he slumps a little, his head sinks down… "Okay, dude, I get it, I get it. Sorry I asked." He hangs up abruptly. "Crap. That was…" The phone rings. He stares at it. "Don't answer that."

Raquelle eyes the phone and then eyes Jay and then the phone. "And why exactly should I not answer the phone of the place where I work?" He asks curiously, toying with his pen now and tilting his head to the side. "There isn't any trouble is there?"

"It's my brother," Jake says, shoulders still slumped. "Probably wants to bitch at me some more. He'll chew yer ear off, I swear." The lollipop is meditatively shifted to the other side of his mouth. "Besides, it's after hours. Right?"

Raquelle tilts his head to the side thoughtfully. "Oh honey, have you /met/ me? Ain't many folks that can manage to chew my ear off, trust me." Then he gives a small nod. "Unless he's calling for a perm or somethin', I've got nothing to really say to him anyways."

"He's got a permanent perm from my mom's side of the family," Jake says, and smirks just a little. "Curly hair." And he swipes at his own pointy, straight spikes, then sighs deeply and puts the notebook away. "Well. That's as far as I'm going to go in making other people risk their asses for me. Thanks for the phone."

Raquelle hmms thoughtfully before reaching for the phone and nodding towards Jay's head. "That's a damn shame what you're doing to your hair you know…" Then he's dialing in a number. "Where do you live hm?" He sets his pen and notebook aside for now.

"It's good for sports," Jake protests concerning his own haircut, then he pauses and eyes Raq askance. "I just said I was done - that includes you, yaknow. It's all well and good to do something nice for people, but…" Right about then his brain catches up with him and he clamps his mouth shut, looking intensely guilty for a moment. Then, "I'm broke, I can't pay you back." Pause. "Not till next week." That'll make him feel better.

"Don't think just because I'm fruitier than a bowl of fruity pebbles that I don't know which hairstyle are good or not good for sports. It works very well I'm sure but it isn't /good/ for your hair. You'll have your hair falling out by the time you're 35 or so." Raquelle tsks and pauses in his dialing to sigh softly. "Don't worry about payment, hell if it makes you feel really really bad you can come and sweep up hair or something whenever you get time."

He takes a deep breath. "Hey…Shir-yes, this is Raquelle. Mmhm. Yes, I'm glad they fell asleep…give them kisses and hugs for me. I might be a bit later home and I'll pay you for overtime, yes." He hangs up and gets to his feet. "I sincerely hope you don't mind riding bitch…you're a bit tall but it shouldn't matter that much."

Doubletake. Jake blinks. "Now who's the one with the filthy mouth?" There's consternation on his face, but he's not turning it down. He is, after all, pretty wasted - climbing buildings in this state is probably suicide. "So long as I don't fall off, I guess…" Hanging on to someone on the back of a motorcycle sounds kinda dangerous too. One self-conscious hand wanders to the top of his head absently to hunt for bald spots. Thanks, Raquelle.

"Oh honey bunches of drunk off his ass, you have /no/ idea." That's all Raquelle's going to say about having a filthy mouth, chuckling and pulling a yep black helmet out from under the desk and then a second helmet that is a more neon green and black color which is tossed towards Jay. "As long as you hold on tight, you should be okay. I mean hell…my 5 year old can hold on safely." He shrugs and goes his last check of making sure everything is locked up. Shouldering a leather messenger bag and holding his helmet under one arm.

"You ride a bike with a five year old?" Jake's dubious. He fumbles, but does catch the helmet. "I'm not that drunk, by the way," he adds, just to be clear on this fact. "I only had three." Pause. "Or four." Shifty-eyed Jake, trying to remember for sure, goes meandering after Raq with the helmet clutched in both hands. "Okay, maybe five." He's not swaying too badly, at least?

"Not on a regular basis, but occasionally yes I take one of my girls on a ride." Raquelle replies as he saunters towards the exit, frowning a bit and eyeing Jay suspiciously. "…just give me an address hon." A slow blink. "Nnng, please tell me you're still in college."

"I'm still in college," Jake says with a sigh. "Just… get me to Morningside Heights and I'll try not to fall off on the way?" He doesn't feel like running four or five miles and potentially getting caught by the cops on the way. Especially drunk. "So I'm Jake. You're fruity pebbles 'til you give me a better name." That comes with a small but engaging sort of smile - a peace offering, jock to fruit.

Raquelle mmhms and leads the way to a pretty nice purple and black (mostly black) motorcycle, working on getting everything set up. He's shrugged on a jacket by now as well, nose wrinkling as he looks very thoughtful and then slips on his helmet. "My name's Raquelle or Kelly, or your name is Wasted Mini-Wheats. Don't test me, I know my children's cereal brands." A-straddling the bike he goes.

That gets a delighted laugh from Jake. "Wasted Mini-Wheats. That's awesome." Still, he lingers back, staring at the bike, and at Raq. "Yaknow, this might not be such a great idea." Teeth worry at his lower lip for a moment and he hesitantly slings on the helmet. "I mean, I've never ridden one of these things. My mom made my dad get rid of his when I turned eight and started begging. Since then haven't had a chance. And, um. I'm a serious adrenaline freak. I mean, this really, really probably isn't a good idea." Ulp.

Raquelle sits/stands there a-straddle his bike with an arch of an eyebrow that can't be seen until he lifts the visor of his helmet and stares at Jay with an unreadable expression. He sighs and pulls on his gloves with a squint. "Are you scared then? Is that it? Really?"

"Not scared, dude, just…" A sigh. "Jesus. I don't need another fuckin' sport. Especially when I'm liable to splatter my brains on the asphalt." He clicks his own visor down quickly and steps forward. "I apologize in advance for any over-excited shit I do." Raq can't say he wasn't warned. And, a bit awkwardly, Jake climbs aboard. He seems rather reluctant to actually touch, it should be noted.

Raquelle is used to this, amused but used to it as he clicks down his own visor and shrugs his shoulders. "Then learn from somebody who does know. Arms around my waist, I promise I won't think about your lusciously vulnerable body blahblah…god sake man, you want to get caught out here after curfew or do you want to be back at your place sleeping it off and preparing to come and see me tomorrow?"

There's a strange little noise that might be shocked choking from Jake. Damn good thing Raq can't see his face. He slings both arms around the other man's waist and tightens his grip… somewhat. "I can't afford a fucking bike," comes the grumble. "Son of a bitch…" This, as he figures out where to put his feet, and realizes they're about to get moving. His grip tightens fractionally. There's an uncomfortable bit of shifting about back there.

"Exactly my point wheatie, hold on." Raquelle revs that engine a bit breathing hitching as that grip tightens and he has to find some air. "Okay! So we know the definition of tight…" Then VROOM, he kicks off. Really that simple with no warning and a snort of a soft laugh in there. He doesn't often take his bike to work but when he does, it is because he likes to feel the night air and wind and all that good stuff. Vroom vroom baby, that's where it's all at.

So it is, and Jake wishes like hell he were driving - not just for the rush, but because it'd feel a lot safer if he were in control, even if he isn't precisely educated in motorcycle management. "Oh fuck," comes the call, and yes, he knows the definition of tight - he's strong, too. Instinct takes care of most of it; he leans when Raq leans, his sense of balance pretty good except for the overcompensation of drunkness. "Fuck, you know, maybe we shouldn't go to Morningside, maybe you could drop me off in Queens - where the hell are we anyway?" he calls, now pressed quite a bit closer.

Raquelle maneuvers the bike like a pro, rolling his eyes behind that helmet and muttering irritably in Japanese before calling out. "We're in Brooklyn, or we were in Brooklyn, you've got 4 minutes to give me an address or I'm dropping you off at a nice hotel where they leave mints on your pillow." He manages to grit out, making a sharp turn rather smoothly and shaking his head.

That turn gets a rather wild laugh from Jake, and a moment of quiet in which he is grinning rather fiercely behind the mask. "Queens. I wanna get laid tonight. Fucking god, do that again." Yes, this is exactly why he was reluctant to do this - he's enjoying it far, far too much.

Raquelle would just happen to help an extreme sports lunatic, just his luck really as he makes another one of those sharp turns, skidding a bit and getting back on track rather quickly as he can't help but chuckle. "I doubt you'll get laid but hey, I'm the ride not the voice of reason."

"Hey, I've got tail," Jake protests, after the instinctive and gleeful laugh that spills out during that turn. "Damn, you keep that up I'm gonna get in trouble!" But he chortles again and clings rather close. "What, you don't think I can get laid? Some people like it when I cuss because of them." Poor guy can't stop grinning.

"Yes, I'm sure you do. You're a very attractive college aged guy…" Raquelle calls out as he maneuvers between two vehicles in a way that would make most mother's faint, but he's redirected them in the Queens direction though. "I think you can get laid, but by who…that is my question. Will you wake up with somebody hideous enough to peel paint and crack mirrors?"

The zipping-through-cars gets a whoop from Jake - he literally cannot hold it in. "Dude, I have had some fine-ass tail in my time. And frankly, the one I'm thinking of is hot as hell." That gets yelled as he glances back to grin at the drivers they're passing, heedless of the fact that he really can't be seen through the helmet. "Hell, I don't think I've ever gone to bed with anybody who wasn't good-lookin' in some way - or at least freaky as hell." He shifts in his seat, trying not to let the distraction show. "Like you said, I'm attractive, and a jerk though I may be, I can at least keep a lid on it till after she's in bed with me. What's to stop me? I haven't had time to get a rep up yet."

Raquelle mmhms as he just barely manages to beat a red light with a boost of speed and gets his bearings. "That makes you a bitch, not a jerk." Kelly manages to yell in between his focusing on driving safely. That shifting around is getting distracting though. "And if you don't stop humping my back I swear to god I will push you off this bike while it is moving." No malice, cuz he's laughing as he goes, whee sharp turn.

"I'm not—!" Jake stills, though, and his own laughter is audible. "How the hell does that make me a bitch? Bitches are girls and pussies!" And people who ride the backs of bikes, apparently.

"Also? The position on the back of a motorcycle is also referred to as 'bitch'. But you don't have to be a girl or have a pussy to be a bitch, trust me. You fit the description perfectly so don't worry about it. Some girls like that in a man." Raquelle is quick to be reassuring as he decides last minute which turn to take, just barely avoiding hitting a newspaper box. Or he may have done that on purpose, always hard to tell.

Damn, Raq's good - Jake's adrenaline's being kept so high that he really doesn't care what the man calls him. "No really, dude, some guy called me a twink earlier tonight, now you're calling me a bitch, I don't think I'm fitting whatever definition you two keep coming…" Sharp intake of breath, wild laugh exhaled. "Up with." Apparently gay guys have their own odd vocabulary or something - he's just not getting it.

"Nope, twink you are not. Bitch you are. But I wouldn't worry about it. You said Queens, yes? Which part?" Raquelle isn't a trick rider but yeah, he's good thanks to plenty of time as a rebel and he slows down for a moment to look around before just punching it once more.

"Long Island City," Jake says, and sighs deeply. Really, he sounds… strangely satisfied. Try not to read too much into it. "Shit!" he laughs, as the bike takes off, and once again he's clinging tight. "Well… hell, okay, fine, I won't - doesn't matter anyway, life is good. Except for the no money, no job thing. Son of a — Christ, you almost ran that dude over!" And Jake sounds gleeful about this.

"You ever need anything to do, for just some quick pocket money, come by the salon." Raquelle dodges another pedestrian with a shrug. "We'll find something for you to do for a few bucks from time to time, also give you a reference for future jobs…" About the guy though. "…well the bitch shouldn't have left a 1cent tip for my shampoo girl." He doesn't sound apologetic, really as he nears their destination, chuckling softly.

"Nice," Jake laughs, appreciative. "Fuck, if that's how you treat all your employees," running people over for them, "I'm in." There's a wide grin on his face. "Really, I don't honestly care where I work so long as the guys at the frat don't find out about it. I'm already having trouble enough since my dad cut me off." And he lost his ability to pick up random cash here and there. "So if that guy's a bitch for leaving a bad tip, and I don't leave bad tips when I ain't broke, am I still a bitch?"

"We're a family at the Salon, nobody effs with my familia, so hey." Raquelle pulls up to a curb and idly cracks his neck. "And your secret is safe with me if you ever show up. Can't promise the girls won't be all over you though." Then he considers his answer carefully. "There are different types of bitches you know."

Stopped - that means Jake settles back and takes off the helmet. "Oh yeah? Do tell." He looks faintly amused - and more than a little happily dazed, as if he'd been toking weed for the past half hour, or done some serious X. "And what's this about girls?" Followed by the most artificially innocent look ever.

Raquelle removes his own helmet, giving Jay a look and a shake of his head. "I'll let you figure that one out on your own pookieface, if I told you /everything/ you'd never have room to learn now would you?" A hint of a smirk and he nods. "I have lots of girls who work for me, most of them are single. Lamenting over the fact that I'm off limits and a father, so they'd eat you alive." A pause. "That's not going to be a problem is it?"

The grin Jake flashes is wolfish. "Not at all." It fades quickly, though. "At least, not until they decide that we're going steady or something." Which is, as ever, a problem. Cue a deep sigh. "Lemme guess, that's what you mean by 'bitch'. Sleeps around, doesn't get tied down, really doesn't want a steady relationship?" Snort. "God, I feel less like getting laid just hearing myself say that."

Raquelle frowns a bit before laughing and shaking his head. "Yes, that could be a quality of it, but that is more of a player. I think you could pull off both wonderfully though, as long as you just continue getting yourself checked. I hear the really easy girls are usually the ones with crabs." He sounds sincere at least, nodding sagely.

Jake snorts, shakes his head, and slides off the bike, grinning. "You're a dick." Not that this is a bad thing, but hey. "Relax. I actually don't sleep with skanks, despite what my brother says. Fuck, what do you care anyway? Not like I'll pass anything I get to your customers." That's right, Jake's gotten picky. Somehow. God help the world, the frat boy's growing up.

"Yeah, and you can suck it while your attention is down there." Raquelle now does smirk with a quirk of an eyebrow before waving a hand vaguely. "I care because somebody has to. You get home or some somebody's home safely, okay?" Fairy godfather's picked up another name on his list apparently. "You need anything else before I take off to get home just barely before curfew then?"

Cue a glance downwards and back up, followed by a smirk. "Shit, you are flirting. Damn, I'm flattered. But no, I've got everything I need, at least in theory. Ride safe." And the helmet gets handed back with an innoc… well, okay, not really innocent. Just a smirk.

Raquelle actually chokes on a bit of spit, barking out a merry laugh as he pulls his helmet back on, taking the helmet from Jay and snickering. "I'm always flirting, but it doesn't mean anything cute stuff. I've got everything I need in life…in more than theory." A pause. "And then some." He kicks off with a small nod. "Be safe!" Then VROOOM, off he goes.

That gets a laugh from Jake, and then a shake of the head. At least he's not blushing? With that, he turns to head for the apartment complex down the road. It's only about a block, he'll be there well before curfew. Life is good.

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