I Love my Vet, Chapter One

These are my characters and my ideas.

A/N: This is still in the experimental stage. Please tell me if you see any mistakes. I like the idea for this, but I'd like a review or two before I agree to write another chapter. I guess I'm just looking for an opinion. Huggles all

“Runa, how am I supposed to drive with you wailing like that?” I demanded, fastening my seatbelt as I drove past the police station. “Why don’t you sing something?”

“Runa can’t sing,” my little brother protested in the front seat beside me. As if to agree, Runa the cat let out a low groaning meow from the backseat, where she sat hunched in her carrier.

“You’re right, Addie,” I admitted. “She sounds more like you in the bath.”

“Don’t call me that! My name’s Adonis!” my brother snapped. I sneaked a wide grin at him, which pissed him off. He pummeled my arm until I nearly drove off the road.

“Will you cut that out?! Geez, kid, you’re gonna kill us.”

Adonis responded with the customary ‘I’m-not-a-kid’ and turned up the volume on his iPod. I rolled my eyes, cursing under my breath as an old guy cut in front of me. Adonis was only twelve, not nearly old enough yet to resist my parent’s intense ‘Gothifying’. His blond hair was dyed black, he was wearing little Chuck Taylors, a sulky frown, and a band t-shirt. He’s a little snot, though I love him, I just don’t know how I get roped into bringing him everywhere I go.

I’m just the opposite of my brother. I would never let my parents dye my hair, which is thick and golden, and I’m the only one in my family who goes out in the day enough to get freckles on my skin.

Since I dropped out of college and I live at home, I suppose my parents think it’s an excellent opportunity to get him out of the house, dumping him on his older brother. It doesn’t seem to occur to them that I may not be the best role model for the little guy, me being a college-dropout and guitarist of a rowdy hard rock band. But as both my parents are Goths, I suppose a positive role model might be objectionable to them.

Which brings me immediately to the subject of many of my woes: my dad. I don’t intend to bitch and moan about how my dad never approves of me like some sadsack Simple Plan song. Quite the opposite. My dad is obsessed with me.

Well, I call my parents by their first names; my mom is Monday, and my dad is Lucco. Lucco is insanely jealous over me and is always trying to find ways to involve me in his life (he’s a model and actor). For example, he decreed that I would take his cat to the vet for a check-up, since it was throwing up all over the place. He takes care of Runa and knows more about the cat’s illness then I do, but when I pointed this out to him, he just declared that I should pay more attention to his cat. It’s sort of funny in a way, except I know he’s the one who really wants my attention. He moped and sulked for months when I went away to school. I just don’t know why he can’t be more independent.

“Well God dammit I can’t babysit him twenty-four seven!” I yelled out loud, swerving the car around viciously and coming to a stop in front of a telephone pole. Well, I may have lightly bumped into it, but that’s a secret.

“Vonn!!!!” My brother howled. “You’re out of your fucking mind!” He was gripping the door handle for support and staring at me in a combination of fear and admiration.

“Don’t use language like that! You’re just a brat.”

“You swore just now,” he retorted, sticking his chin out at me.

“I’m not a kid.”

“You still live at home.”

I shot a wicked glance at him as I lit a cigarette and pulled the car back onto the highway. People were honking and yelling, so I waved at them. Adonis stuck his finger out the window, and I let him. He can be pretty cute sometimes. In the backseat Runa the cat had increased her sad cat howling tenfold.

“OK Kitty, time to get the thermometer stuck up your ugly evil cat butt,” I said gleefully when the receptionist called our name. I grabbed the carrier and lugged it across the clean white lobby full of how-to-care-for-your-puppy pamphlets. Adonis threw down the pamphlet he was looking at and followed on my heels.

“Will they really put a thermometer up her butt?” he asked eagerly.

“I hope so,” I said sincerely.

“I’ll tell dad you don’t like the cat.”

“I’ll tell him you swore.”

“I’ll tell him you nearly had an accident while I was in the car.”

“Okay, okay, I like the cat.”

“Blackarr?” A good-looking guy peered out of a doorway, looked us over and smiled warmly. I nearly looked behind me to be sure he was talking to me. “This way.”

We stepped into his office and I plunked the carrier down on the table, my face rather warm.

It’s not like I’m really gay or anything, although bisexuality probably runs in my family, or else we’re just liberal people, but this guy was hot.

“Please be gentle,” the vet insisted, glancing over his shoulder as he leaned over his desk, writing something. It took me a moment to realize he meant the cat.

I fought a blush as it crawled up my chest and neck toward my face. He was taller than me, a little less muscular but still well built, and he had the most amazing brown corkscrew curls, right to the shoulder, and deep dark eyes. Something about him tipped me off, because he seemed a teensy bit flamboyant, though I suspect now that he tones it down whenever he meets new people. He shook my hand and my brother’s hand, introducing himself as Evan Whiteway,

“Just call me Evan.” His hand was so soft and steady; my heart thudded in my chest.

“Mind if I take a peek?” he asked.

“Huh?”

Adonis kicked me in the back of the leg, startling me. Awkwardly enough, even the cat seemed to realize I was staring at the veterinarian. Evan was staring at me with what I could only imagine was a mixture of surprise and amusement.

“I’d like to take a look at your animal, Mr. Blackarr,” he said plainly.

“Just Vonn please,” I murmured, opening the carrier door. “It’s pretty testy, you should be very careful with it.”

“I certainly will,” Evan laughed.

I thought he’d get clawed, but he reached into the pet carrier and in a second had Runa out on the table.

“It’s a bit bigger than I thought it would be,” he said in surprise.

“It’s mostly hair,” I scowled.

“It’s a beautiful cat,” he marveled. Too late I realized that Evan probably loved cats. Runa is pure white with bright green eyes. But all I can think about when I look at her is how much she sheds, meows, and barfs. As if to remind me, she burped up a little over the table.

“Oops,” Evan said happily. “A little spill.”

“I-I’m so sorry,” I gasped. “She’s been doing that a lot.”

“No problem, I’m used to all sorts of things,” Evan said with a grin, looking the cat over. He looked in her eyes, in her ears, at her butt, and then poked gently at her tummy. He asked me a bunch of questions about her, some of which I could only answer with Adonis’ help.

“It’s my dad’s cat; he knows more about it than me,” I explained, feeling like he must have thought I was negligent.

“Your dad likes cats?” Evan asked conversationally, glancing at me as he flipped through a big book on his desk.

“It’s his familiar,” Adonis blurted. I nudged him hard with my elbow.

“Familiar?”

“A spirit that helps summon demons from the other world for its master,” Adonis went on. “Dad uses her to communicate with spirits and stuff like that.”

“Adonis,” I growled.

“You mean in rituals and stuff?” Evan asked in surprise.

“Well, technically,” I said quickly, before Adonis could answer. “Only no one hurts her or anything like that. There’s no animal sacrifice or pentacles or anything.”

“I’m familiar with alternate religions, Vonn,” Evan replied. “Is your father Pagan or Wiccan?”

“He’s Wiccan,” Adonis offered.

“That’s interesting. Well then Runa, I had no idea you could communicate with spirits.” He scratched the cat’s head thoughtfully, and she purred.

“Does she get a prescription?” I asked hesitantly. I was used to people stereotyping my parents based on their appearance and their beliefs. Evan’s peaceful acceptance struck me as new.

“Do you know someone who had died recently, Mr. Evan?” Adonis asked.

“How did you guess?”

“Sixth sense.” Adonis grinned wickedly.

“I lost a close friend several months ago,” Evan offered. “You must be very perceptive to notice.”

“You had an aura of sadness around you,” Adonis replied sagely. “If you like you could come over sometime and my dad might try to contact that friend of yours.”

“Perhaps I might,” Evan laughed. “If it would be alright with Mr. Blackarr. I bet your family is very interesting.”

“A little too interesting,” I sighed.

“I’ll prescribe some pills for miss Runa here,” Evan said quickly. “The stomach sickness should get better on its own, but this will speed her recovery. Come back if her condition worsens or if she doesn’t show any improvement.”

“Uh, Evan?”

“Yes,” he straightened up from where he was scribbling stuff on a piece of paper so we were nearly eye to eye. He was so close I was sure he was testing me.

“Um, thanks for taking care of my pet.”

“No worries. I love animals.” He grinned.

“Well, I’m sorry about the mess.”

“Oh, what fun would it be if there wasn’t any mess?” Evan asked. “You and your little kitty are welcome to muck up my table whenever you like.” I was sure of it this time. He was a flamboyant person; he practically breathed innuendos.

“If she keeps up like this I may have to come back right away.”

Evan laughed.

“I don’t get it, what’s so funny?” Adonis demanded.

“Oh just some adult humor, it’s really very dull,” Evan told him.

I turned away quickly and tried shoving Runa back in the pet carrier. I ended up getting a deep scratch on the back of my hand.

“Ouch,” Evan said, looking at my cut. “Hold it, I have some peroxide.”

“It’s fine,” I argued, not wanting to appear weak in front of my brother.

“That’s a sick animal, Vonn,” Evan replied. “It would be irresponsible not to clean it.”

“Yeah Vonn,” Adonis sneered. “Ir-re-sponse-i-ble.”

I gave him a look that shut him up instantly.

“I’ll be in the lobby,” he said quickly, and left.

Evan set the open bottle of peroxide on the table behind me and dabbed a Q-tip in it. He was so close to me that my butt pressed against the table as I leaned away. He took my hand and wiped the blood away with the cotton swab. I swallowed.

“It stings, huh?”

“Uh, yeah,” I replied, staring at the nice angle of his nose, the smooth swell of his lower lip. Before I could say anything more he had slipped a band-aid on my hand and easily slid the cat into the carrier.

“Here you are,” he offered brightly, holding out the carrier.

I tucked my hair behind my ear and took it warily.

“Thanks.”

“See you.” He waved with his back turned to me as he walked back to his desk.

A bit disappointed, I hurried out of his office and ended up going down the wrong hallway before doubling back to the lobby.

“How come you got a little kitty band-aid?” Adonis demanded when he saw my hand.

“Because I got hit with a little kitty.”

“Was it’s name Evan Whiteway by any chance?”

“What are you talking about?” I demanded as we stepped outside and walked toward the car.

“I saw you Vonn. You were blushing.”

“I wasn’t,” I snapped.

“Wait til I tell dad.”

“You will not.”

“Yeah I will.” Adonis climbed into the front seat.

“I’ll tell all my friends you have a funny name.”

“Nooo,” my little brother groaned. For some reason he hates it when I say I’m going to make fun of him; he hates it more than when I actually do make fun of him.

“Tell you what, don’t say anything special about today and I’ll bring you to McDonald’s.”

“What about Runa?”

“I’ll get her some McNuggets.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“She’ll be fine in the car.”

It was evening now and the sun was low in the sky, leaving a bronze-and-pink smear across the horizon which was littered with telephone wires and the glowing streak of an airplane arcing its way along the blue expanse. The air was dank and sweaty with the smell of car exhaust. Somewhere someone was having a barbecue. I sat looking out the window at McDonald’s while my brother fought with another kid over the video games, and all I could think about was Evan Whiteway. His rich brown curls, the way his smile included his eyes, his hand...

‘He’s definitely interested in me. I think.’

“You’ve barely touched your food,” Adonis demanded.

“Mmmph,” I sighed.

“Give me money to get ice cream.”

I listlessly handed him a five dollar bill.

“Okay,” he sighed. “What’s up with you?”

“Huh?”

“You never give away money.”

“Whoa!” I snatched my five dollars back in surprise. “That was close. You almost had me there!”

“Vonn,” he whined. “Come on, give it back.”

“Fine,” I huffed, feeling bad. I rooted in my pocket for a cigarette.

“Vonn, you can’t smoke here,” Adonis pointed out. Several mothers gave me hard looks.

“Get your ice cream and let’s go,” I ordered.

“Dad, Vonn’s got a boyfriend!”

“Adonis!” I roared. I chased his voice into the living room where my dad was curled up in a leather armchair with my brother on his hip. The living room is dimly lit with by a fake fireplace. There are shelves everywhere piled high with little dragon ornaments and ceramic skulls with candles in them. The doorway separating the living room and the kitchen has a bead curtain with a rose pattern on it.

My dad was wearing just a pair of boxers and his black silk robe that he loves. He’s in his early forties but he looks almost my age, with milky white skin and a solid wall of stomach. His chest and arms are tattooed with a pattern of black flames. My mom’s a tattoo artist, and she put them there.

“What’s this about a boyfriend, Vonn?” Lucco demanded, casually flicking his thick black hair over his shoulder. He set my brother down and gestured for me to sit.

“Lucco, I’m 21, I’m not going to sit on your lap.”

He gave me a hard look with his piercing gray eyes, so I delicately placed myself on the arm of the chair. Immediately he hooked his arm around my waist, and Adonis went scampering off.

“Your brother said you had a thing for another man.”

“My brother’s full of shit.”

“Are you saying you don’t like men?” Lucco caught my chin with one finger and turned my face toward him, smiling. It’s no wonder he’s such a famous model. He’s charismatic and breath-taking, his voice and the way he moves, carefully, like an Anne Rice vampire. I couldn’t think of anything to say to him.

“Kiss me.”

Before I could respond he looped his other arm across my shoulders and pulled me nearly on top of him. I gasped when he pulled me down so he caught me with my mouth open. There was no tongue but it was strange anyway. A kind of nervous thrill raced through me. He always smelled faintly of something wild, like a sweet scent in the darkest part of a forest.

“Enough flirting, Lucco,” Monday scolded, coming in covered in splatters of paint.

It only lasted a second, and then he pulled back, touching our foreheads together.

“I love Vonn,” he replied, pouting.

“Yeah okay, but we’re blood-related,” I pointed out to him.

He grinned.

“I made you.”

“That doesn’t mean you can do whatever you like with him, Lucco,” Monday said, smiling. “He’s a man now. You have to respect his boundaries.”

“Exactly,” I retorted, straightening up.

My father looked cross.

“But I love you more than anyone. You are my son.”

“Don’t be unreasonable. You can’t flirt with your children,” I argued.

Runa jumped up in his lap and he petted her, sulking.

“I can flirt with anyone.”

“Well you can’t flirt with me!” I snapped.

Lucco scooped up the cat and stalked away, up the stairs. We heard his bedroom door close.

“You better apologize to him later,” my mom laughed. “Or we’ll have Sob Fest 2007.” She offered me a cigarette, and we lit up.

“What’s his problem? Is it part of his image, the flirting?”

“You know he doesn’t mean to come on so strong. It’s just his way. Scorpio is very possessive.” (My mom goes for astrology. No surprise there.)

“Well it’s fucking disturbing.”

“We’re fucking disturbing people,” Monday laughed.

“Yeah I guess,” I replied with a grin. “Tell dad I’ll talk to him later. I gotta go to band practise.”

“Kay baby.”

“Mom,” I groaned.

She laughed and walked out of the room, following my dad’s trail of sulkiness.

“Adonis,” I yelled, remembering. “You better give me back my five bucks.”

Lydia was being a royal prat as usual. She’s our lead singer, though she thinks she’s the leader of the band. That would be Summer, our drummer. Yeah it rhymes. But Summer’s really cool. She can do everything. She plays drums, writes lyrics, and generally holds the band together. She’s a tough-looking young blonde who is into everything from feminism to poetry and philosophy. She works part-time as a mechanic.

My friend James Howell and I work part-time as well, at a bakery, but as far as I know our singer Lydia just prattles around mooching off her parents.

“Why do we have to practice in this smelly old garage?” she was saying when I arrived.

“Do you have a better place to practice?” James demanded. He’s been my best friend since birth; he even dropped out of college with me although he was mature enough to get his own place. I couldn’t blame him for being a little offended. It was his garage, and James is cool but he’s also a neat freak; I would never call any place he lived in ‘smelly’.

“All the best garage bands hang out in garages,” Summer retorted, doing a comical sound effect on her drum set that went ba-dump dump ching!

“Not funny, Summer,” Lydia sniffed. “All the really good bands have studios.”

“They also have record deals,” I pointed out. “Are we going to practice or what?”

James strummed a few chords on his bass guitar.

“I’m ready to go.”

“Well I need a drink,” Lydia huffed. Three glasses of water and nearly twenty minutes later - she insisted we not rush her into drinking or she would feel bloated- Lydia decided she didn’t feel like singing after all and left.

“Well Christ, now what are we going to do?” James wondered.

“We’ll practice anyway,” Summer said coolly. “I’ll have a talk with her later.”

“She’s been getting out of hand,” I declared.

“Well, she likes you, you know.”

“Too many people like me in my opinion,” I scowled, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

James laughed. He looks kinda like me, only with a different face and build and his hair is a different color and curlier... Well, that doesn’t leave us with a lot of similarities, but he’s like the slightly altered version of me, probably because he tries so hard to be like me much of the time. For example, James took up smoking the day after I did, and he took up drinking the same week as I did. But he’s a really sweet guy.

“Is your dad giving you a hard time? A little too much loving mayhaps?”

“You know what, screw you, Jimmy,” I snapped. “I can’t believe I ever thought you were cute. You’re such an ass.” That’s one of my standard comebacks to James. Just like the thing with my brother when I threaten to make fun of him. James never gets upset with me though.

“Aw come on Vonn, you know you still want this,” James said casually, strumming on his bass from his seat on an old couch. It looked like it was left over from the seventies. Like blonde women with handkerchiefs tied around their hair would read to their kids on it in a picture where everything was slightly orange. It’s my favorite couch in the whole world. It used to be in his parent’s living room when we were kids and I’m glad he’s never gotten rid of it.

“She really is a snot you know, saying shit about your garage.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, really.”

“I know.”

“You guys wanna jam?” Summer asked, giving us a little drum roll.

“Hell yeah.” Summer’s a lot of fun, it’d be cool to be more like her.

“Someday, guys,” she mused, “we have to find a permanent name for the band.”

“Yeah...”

The three of us rolled our eyes. Whenever we agree on a name, Lydia changes it barely a week later, as if to put a hamper on success. We jammed for two hours or so; it was great. The three of us really jive together. James tried to fill in for Lydia’s vocals but he sucked so bad that I took over. I’m sure I didn’t do much better because I could barely remember the words, but I have better pitch than Jimmy does.

“That was pretty good Vonn,” Summer said at the end of it. “I had no idea you could sing so well. Your dad used to be a singer am I right?”

“Yep, now he’s just an average Joe.”

“An average Joe that appears in tv specials, cologne commercials, and Goth fetish gear catalogues,” James mused.

“Yep, that’s him,” I agreed, pretending to sob.

“Well you can thank him for giving you such a good voice,” Summer replied. “Because I think I’m going to put you as lead singer of the band.”

“Me?”

“But what about Lydia?”

“I’ll squash the bug myself,” Summer offered. “Can you be here early on Saturday, guys?”

“No problem,” I agreed, curious in spite of myself.

“It’s my house so I suppose I’ll be here,” James said with a shrug. “Tell your dad I send my love to him.”

“Better not,” I sighed, packing up my guitar. “Next thing you know he’ll be following me to practice.”

“So long as he brings his fetish gear.” I swung at James’ head with my guitar.

Lucco was playing a PS3 on the edge of his and mom’s King-sized bed when I returned. I barged on in, knowing he would only be offended if I knocked. He glanced at me and went back to his game as though he could ignore me, but after a minute he switched the game off and smiled at me. I knew he couldn’t stay mad.

“Did practice go well?” he curled up near the headboard and tucked his feet under the edge of the comforter.

“Well kinda,” I sighed. “We may be kicking Lydia out.”

“Who’ll sing the lead?”

“Maybe me.”

“I knew it,” Lucco beamed and couldn’t resist patting the bed beside him. I sat next to him and pulled the covers back, tucking him in. “Will you be a singer like I was?”

“Hopefully for a bit longer than you were,” I laughed. Dad laughed too. He’s not a sensitive person, except when it comes to his family. I think that perhaps secretly he is a very lonely person, and that he craves attention to make the loneliness go away.

“But Lucco, about tonight...”

“I’m sorry,” he said instantly. His sharp face stared up at me as I helped him slide into bed. He has a way of conveying sincerity with his eyes. “Monday says you’re trying to find your own space.”

“Teenagers try to find their own space, dad,” I sighed. “I’m in my twenties now. I can’t be pampered anymore.”

“You’re not the one that needs it,” Lucco sighed, folding his hands behind his head and grinning.

“I know.”

“I can’t help it, Vonn,” he explained. “I get so bored. And then I get to being depressed. It’s always been that way. There’s never anything that keeps my interest.”

I ran a few strands of his hair through my fingers. My father was so beautiful. Even when I was a child I must have thought so. His face, his eyes and hair, his mouth: he was so stunning. Not in a feminine kind of way either. More like the dark twin of Adam, like a Biblical Cain, nearly perfect. He would have hated that comparison, but there it was.

“You’re a good father,” I told him.

“It’s so hard, Vonn.”

I nodded, trying to understand.

“I could fly to Europe, you know? Hang out backstage at all the best metal concerts. I could live in Germany again, or visit Greece.”

“You couldn’t leave us.”

“No.”

“You’ve done so many things.”

Lucco laughed softly. “I’ll tell you a secret, okay? You should never settle for anything.”

I smiled and kissed him.

“Have you fallen in love?” he asked me, pleased.

“I saw someone today that I liked.”

“A man?”

“I guess.”

“Don’t let anything stop you.”

My eyes widened. I slapped my forehead.

“Oh man, most fathers are against their sons’ homosexual tendencies.”

“Hey,” Lucco protested. “I resent them. I’m bisexual, remember?”

“It’s hard to forget,” I groaned.

“Oops,” Lucco laughed. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so sexual.”

“You couldn’t help it if you tried,” I informed him. “Right now I’d settle for you being less of a child.”

He whined deep in his throat, and kissed me on the neck.

“I’ll take him from here, Vonn.” Monday stood in the doorway.

“G’night Dad.”

Dad hummed his good night and welcomed mom into bed with him.

I went to my room on the third floor and thought about what he had said, that I shouldn’t let anything stop me from pursuing what I wanted, even if it was another guy. I opened my window and let the lucid signing of my guitar mix with the scent of the apple tree that leaned heavily against the house. It was in full bloom now, it’s deep pink flowers letting off a strong, sweet scent. Its petals carpeted the section of the roof outside my window. When a breeze came by all the petals moved, flickering like a horde of butterflies, or a flame. Through the open window I could see my brother swinging on an old tire swing in the darkening twilight, and I could hear my parent’s laughter in the room below me. I had rarely been so comfortable while I was away. It was only my father that could give me that kind of heightened awareness of things, as much as it pained me to admit.

But that didn’t mean he had to be the only man in my life. From downstairs came the unmistakable sound of the cat being sick again. I moved to clean it up, thinking. Perhaps even the less refined things in life possessed small windows of opportunity.

A/N: Please review.