Doing Laundry

(Chapter 3)

by glacier

~Somewhere in America~

The waitress sighed again as she watched the handsome man seated in the corner booth.  She had been sending unmistakable “pick-me-up” signs since he came in, but, unfortunately, he didn’t seem interested in any way, politely dismissing her after ordering black coffee. She wondered if he was gay. It’s really too bad, she thought. The man was tall, his clothes failing to completely hide the magnificent body. His short, blue-black hair went well with his striking blue eyes and lightly tanned skin. But it was the small scar on his left jaw that really lured her. Somehow, it added a sense of mystery to the stranger’s already intriguing aura. Heaving a final sigh of disappointment, the waitress turned and went into the kitchen.

Meanwhile, the strange man, completely oblivious to the longing stares he had been receiving until a short while ago, lifted his left arm to look at his watch again. His lips curled into a slight smirk. *Just like him to be late.* He shook his head slightly in amusement before reaching into his coat’s inside pocket and retrieving a small cellular phone.

He started typing out an SMS message, using only one hand and without even glancing at the screen or the keypad. He had long since memorized each key’s location and purpose. He looked absently out the restaurant’s window and noticed his bodyguards leaning casually against the parked Mercedes. The Mercedes itself was ordinary enough in this posh neighborhood. Unfortunately, his bodyguards had yet to master the art of acting and looking like an ordinary citizen. He gave them a small wave, causing both men to immediately stand at attention. The strange man sighed. *They just never learn.*

Having finished typing, he scrolled through the names in his phonebook and sent the message. He waited for the confirmation that the message had been sent successfully before locking the keypad and returning the phone to its hiding place. He reached into yet another hidden pocket and took out a small palmtop computer. He flipped the protective cover back and had already pulled out the stylus, ready to tap away, when a shadow fell over the screen. He looked up to find the person he had been waiting for.

“Sorry for being late,” the newcomer apologized as he slid into the booth, opposite the current occupant. He watched in silence as the scar-faced man put the small device back inside his coat pocket. “That’s all right. It was only a few minutes.” He observed the newcomer discreetly. He was a few centimeters shorter than the scar-faced man, with slicked-back black hair and dark brown, almost black, eyes. He had what people might call an innocent face yet his eyes showed a certain degree of maturity. Despite this, he is, in fact, several years younger than the taller man.

The newcomer spoke first. “So, what brings you to America?”

“Let’s cut the bullshit, shall we. We both know why I’m here.”

The younger man raised his brows at the other’s tone.

“Oh? Do tell because I really don’t know why the high and mighty nephew of the King of Sheizou would come to America to visit a lowly advisor’s son.”

The older man snarled menacingly. “What fucking game do you think you’re playing? It’s been four years already! Just tell me where he is! You’re his best friend and he tells you everything!”

“Are you jealous? Don’t worry, you’ll always be his favorite cousin, you know that. Sorry, but I don’t know where he is. He writes to me sometimes but the letters never have a return address.”

“You’re lying.”

No response from the younger man. Both men engaged in a staring contest, each silently willing the other to back down first. It was the older man who gave up. He sighed.

“Fine. Don’t tell me if you don’t want to. At least tell me if he’s doing all right. You know how Uncle cares for him. And with his heart problems, I’m afraid that Uncle will suffer from a nervous breakdown soon.”

The younger man looked sympathetically at the other man’s dejected form. “He’s doing fine. He told me in one of his letters that he’s living with someone who he considers to be family now. And he’s working to support himself.”

“Work?! What work? Who in his right mind would hire a 20-year-old without even a high school diploma?” The older man looked at the other incredulously.

The younger one sighed. “No more questions. I’ve already told you more than you need to know. Frankly, I’m disappointed with the royal family’s efforts in finding their prince. I’m especially disappointed in you. If you knew him as well as you think you do, you should already have an idea of where he is. Why is it taking you so long to find him?”

Upon hearing this, the scar-faced man allowed himself to grin smugly. “Oh, we knew all along that he was in Japan. After all, he’s always had this spiritual connection with that country. Don’t you remember that it was him who came up with our Japanese names?” A tight laugh. “Since that day, he never responded whenever we called him by his given name. It was only Uncle who he would allow to call him Aidan.”

Snapping out of his reminiscing, the older man continued. “We’ve already hired someone there to find him. But apparently, he’s been getting some help.” He looked pointedly at the other man.

When all he got in return was a blank stare, he smiled again at the other’s stubbornness before resuming his piece. “It will be harder to find him now since he’s probably grown and changed a lot. But we’ve already hired experts who can help. Something to do with a software that can predict how a person ages. I don’t really understand those things.” A shrug. “Anyway, Allen’s back home, doing things that a crown prince should do. He’s in charge of the official search.”

“Ah. Why are you telling me this? And if Prince Allen’s the one in charge of the search, what are YOU doing here, talking to me about Aidan?” The younger man leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest while waiting for an answer.

Another shrug from the other figure. “I’m doing my own search. He is my cousin after all. And you of all people should know that he’s more like a brother to me.”

“Liar,” came the soft reply.

“Think what you want. I know you won’t be telling any more about Aidan so I’ll take my leave.” A business card was slid across the table. “In case there’s something you need to tell me.”

The taller man left a hundred dollar bill on the table, gave the other man a curt nod, stood up and left the restaurant.

The man seated in the booth looked down on the bill his companion left on the table, then at the untouched cup of coffee. He shook his head slightly in amusement while smiling to himself. *Still the same old Iain.*

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

Main | Updates | My Fics | Other Fics | Links | Info | Email Me!