Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > The True Lives
Written by Deming.
Gerard gazed out the train window watching the arid landscape roll by but not really seeing it. His mind was consumed with thoughts he didn't want to think. He couldn't relive those memories.
Amara, she was such a sweet kid, and so full of spirit. She reminded him so much of. . .but no, it was impossible. Gerard admitted to himself that Amara did look a bit like her. He also acknowledged that it was highly improbable that the two were related. It was just a coincidence, he told himself. There was something special about Amara; he couldn't quite determine what it was about her that made him think that.
No matter her origins, Gerard became determined that Amara would be kept safe. He felt it was necessary, that she was the key to something. A compulsion he couldn't name or control. The girl's big, round, green eyes and her beautiful smile stirred something in his heart.
*
As the hours flew by, Aeon began to notice something interesting about the Killjoys. Besides the fact that she was treated like an old high school friend with in a few minutes of meeting them, Aeon observed that all the Bl/Ind advertisements, the reminders to “take all your pills” and what not, were being tuned out. It was strange, almost peaceful. In today's world, one could hardly escape Bl/Ind's ever-present voice. Radio transmissions, video ads, billboards, and posters were even more pervasive that they were 10-15 years ago, and now the majority were Bl/Ind ads. Aeon never thought that anything could overpower their oppressiveness. But around the guys, Aeon had nearly forgotten about Bl/Ind, which is probably why she had had that bad episode earlier, which Gerard had witnessed.
Aeon shook herself from that train of thought and glanced around at the group. Frank and Amara were deadlocked in a game of checkers, while Ray looked on. Mikey had pulled out his bass and was playing it quietly. Gerard sat gazing out the window, but looked miles away. Aeon wanted to approach him but he didn't look like he wanted company at the moment. Plus, Aeon was afraid that he would hold her to her previous promise. Things would be much simpler if she kept her condition a secret. She didn't want to worry them unnecessarily, nor did Aeon want to disrupt the cheer that had descended on the group since Amara had arrived.
Well, everyone but Gerard. He seemed even more pensive than before. Aeon shrugged, and stood up and went over to where Mikey was sitting. He gave her a small smile as she sat next to him. He paused his bass-playing for a moment to acknowledge her presence. Aeon listened for a while before speaking up.
“What's the name of the song you're playing?” she asked.
Mikey didn't falter. He chuckled. “No name,” he told her. “Not really a song, either.” he smiled faintly. “It's just how I imagined Amara would sound if she were music,” he admitted shyly.
Aeon grinned as she listened. It was beautiful, with a bouncy beat, and a bold yet complex melody. “Why, Mikey,” Aeon smiled at him admiringly, “I never suspected you were a softy inside.” Mikey looked at her horrified as he froze. She laughed and patted his arm reassuringly.
“Don't worry, your secret is safe with me.” She smirked her quirky smirk and winked at him.
Mikey blushed and tried to brush off her teasing with a sigh and roll of his eyes. “Can you do Ray?” Aeon asked discreetly with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. This won her a full grin from Mikey.
“Just listen,” he said with a smug smirk.
*
After Aeon had heard Mikey's bass versions of the group, she returned to her seat. Gerard saw her movement, and looked over at her. He moved to sit down next to her. Outside, the sun was beginning to wane, bathing the world in a yellow-orange light. Ray and Mikey were taking Amara over to the cafe to get dinner. Frank looked like he had passed out in his seat. Gerard saw this as an opportunity to approach Aeon.
“Hey,” she said nonchalantly, even though she wasn't looking forward to what was coming. “Are you alright? You looked pretty lost in thought over there.”
“I'm alright,” he said, avoiding her gaze. “I was just. . .thinking about the past.”
Aeon nodded, not wanting to pry. After all, they had only met a few hours ago, despite how she felt.
“That's not why I came over here,” he looked at her significantly.
Aeon looked at her feet. “I remember my promise,” she said in a low voice.
“So start talking,” he urged. For all he knew, she could be addicted to prescription medicine. At least, that's what it seemed like. He had dealt with withdrawals before, and what he had seen greatly resembled the symptoms of withdrawal.
“I guess I'll start from the beginning. When I was 16, I was diagnosed with a rare heart condition. The doctors gave me pills to help regulate my heart. But there's only so much medicine can do. They told me I would need surgery at some point in the future, if I wanted to continue living normally. It took a few years for my parents to raise enough money to send me to Battery City, which has the best medical facilities in the country. My parents would settle for no less. They drained their savings so I could live in Battery City. What you saw before is what happens to me if I forget to take my medicine.” Aeon fell silent, waiting for his reaction.
“I am so sorry,” Gerard said quietly. “I shouldn't have asked.”
“No it's. . .it's just that I don't want people to look at me differently. Whenever I tell anyone about my heart they run for the hills.” The words tumbled out of her mouth like an avalanche. “I was afraid it would scare you off too. And since I'm moving to a strange city I could really use some friends.”
Gerard looked at her with a half-smile and said, “I don't scare easily.”
“Good,” Aeon said matching his wry smile. It faded as she thought of something. “Are you going to tell the rest of the guys?” She asked, her smile fading and her eyes fixed on her shoelaces.
“Well,” Gerard said frankly, “I think they would want to know, but it's up to you. If you want to keep it secret, I'll respect your decision.”
Aeon didn't look at him. She felt so naked under his gaze and it unnerved her that she let herself become so exposed. Her gaze was glued on utterly 90's geometric design of the carpet. She managed to say, “Thank you,” quietly and with sincerity.
Gerard glanced out at the scenery, “It's getting dark, we should get some rest.” He got up and went to go check on Amara.
Aeon took a quick scan of the cabin. Frank was already asleep and snoring quite loudly. She had to stifle a chuckle, not wanting to disturb him. Mikey was reclining in his seat with earbuds in, but it didn't look like he had slipped into sleep just yet. Ray looked like he couldn't get comfortable enough. He kept tossing and turning, never quite settling. Gerard was making sure Amara was comfortable, letting her lie her head down in his lap. He took to watching the landscape out the window again until Aeon saw him finally nod off.
Aeon suddenly felt very tired. The day had been very long, and eventful. Indeed, so much had happened that Aeon felt as if she had been on this train her whole life. That everything else she remembered had been a dream, and she would be on this train forever, never really arriving at her destination. She felt as if she could just fade into train with the rest of the bad 90's décor and cleaner scent. Like a ghost. . .
*
The duffel-bag thumped as Aeon dropped it into the trunk of a taxi. The sky was dark, but the florescent streetlights kept the train-station lit up like Vegas. Along with the friendly cab-driver, the guys helped load her luggage into the taxi. Except for Frank, who held a still-sleeping Amara and guarded their luggage. Aeon hugged each of the guys in turn, thanking them for everything.
“You sure you'll be alright?” Ray asked as he pulled away from her embrace.
She nodded. “All my things were shipped ahead of time to an apartment, and I have a job at a local mechanic shop.” Aeon assured the wild-haired guitarist.
“And your surgery. . .” Mikey asked, not masking his concern very well.
“I'll let you know when the date is set,” she replied, as if she were discussing a wedding or party date.
“Good,” Frank said handing Amara over to Gerard so he could hug Aeon, “cause we're gonna come bug you in the hospital till you get better.” This made Aeon smile. His levity was laced with a dose of seriousness, but it was exactly what she needed.
For a while no one said anything, but then Gerard spoke up. “Don't be a stranger,” he said with one of his wry smiles. Aeon grinned and nodded.
“Hey, we're neighbors now,” she said, “you won't be able to get rid of me.”
Gerard shook Amara gently so she could say goodbye to Aeon.
“What. . .?” Amara said groggily and looked around.
“Time to go, sweetie,” Gerard said and transferred her into Aeon's arms. Amara wrapped her slender arms around Aeon's neck and squeezed.
“See you around, kiddo,” Aeon said and then put Amara on her feet, leaning over so that she was eye-level with the girl. She glanced out at the rest of the guys, then back at Amara. “Make sure they stay out of trouble, will you?” Aeon asked in a low voice.
Amara grinned. “If I can,” she chuckled and hugged Aeon one last time before climbing into Ray's arms.
Aeon ducked into the cab and closed the door. She watched through the back window as the group shrunk and got farther and farther away. The car turned a corner, cutting them off from her view. She turned to face forward again, feeling uncertain about the future.
*
Three weeks had past since Aeon arrived in Battery City. Her surgery was scheduled for the following week on Monday and everything was going well. She hadn't seen the guys since she got here, but she had talked with them on the phone. They were surprisingly vague about their activities over the past three weeks, but Aeon was so busy at work that she didn't have much time to wonder about it.
Word had spread about Aeon's mechanical genius and soon her shop became the most highly recommended mechanist shop in town. This had her boss scheduling her extra shifts and working overtime. Despite the fact the extra work was detrimental to her condition, Aeon couldn't say no. She loved what she did and she didn't want to risk getting fired.
It was during one of these additional shifts, on the Friday before her surgery, that Aeon got an unexpected visitor. He strode into the garage with and air of confidence and purpose. The sun had already set, so the shop was awash with the yellow glow of old light-bubs. It was quiet except for the distant sound of a radio station playing rock music. To the visitor's surprise, the shop was apparently vacant.
“Hello?” He called out, knowing someone must in the open and aglow garage. There was a clatter of tools and a movement from the corner of his eyes.
“I'll be with you in just a second,” a feminine voice called from behind the open hood of a 1996 Jeep Cherokee. The man sauntered over to the 23-year-old car and saw a young woman with light-brown hair bent over the engine. “Broken belt,” Aeon informed the stranger without looking up from her work. She extracted the part in question from the Jeep. “And I thought this one would be a challenge.” Aeon discarded the shredded belt and finally looked the man in the face.
The man had deep-set eyes, with dark circles underneath, and a bald head. He was dressed in a curious mix between a 30's cat, an 1800's pirate, and a cowboy. Aeon had to stare at him for a few moments before she remembered herself.
“What can I do for you, mister. . .” she paused giving him the opportunity to supply his name.
“Korse,” he said to her with mild smile and a calm voice.
“Mr. Korse,” Aeon repeated with a friendly smile. She stuck out her hand and then realized it was dirty. “Sorry, I'm Aeon Riley. Korse. . .why does that name sound familiar? Oh! You're the guy who runs Better Living Industries aren't you?” Aeon asked as she walked into a bathroom to wash her hands. “Or do you just have the same name as him. I'm sorry, I really am terrible at keeping up with the news. Well you must be the Korse, I don't think I've ever heard of anyone else with that name.” She prattled on, raising her voice so he could hear her while he stood waiting at the Cherokee. Aeon came out of the bathroom and finally shook his hand properly.
“Here I am going on and on when you probably just want to talk business.”
“It's quite alright Ms. Riley,” Korse said in his even tone. In the background the radio switched from music to the voice of the DJ.
“Good evening tumbleweeds! Those tiny radioactive lights in the air are so beautiful tonight, they're making me think back to the good old days. This one goes out to all my stars in that overhead velvety blanket who remembers the time before we were blind.” A guitar riff started playing and Aeon recognized the song as “Video Killed the Radio Star”. Korse was visibly peeved, though he tried a great deal to hide his ire.
“RILEY!” A thunderous voice boomed from another room. “I told you to turn that mutinous shit off! I don't want it playing in my garage!”
“Alright Carl,” Aeon said and grudgingly acquiesced. “Sorry that's my boss,” she said to Korse. He nodded.
“I completely understand, Ms-”
“Please, you can just call me Aeon, if you like,” she interrupted, dismissing the formalities.
“Well, Aeon, it seems as if you have some workplace tension going on.” He said reasonably.
She sighed and sat down in chair behind the front desk. “It's nothing I can't handle,” Aeon shrugged. “So you never did tell me how 'Carl's Auto Repair' can be of service to you.”
“Actually, Aeon, I came here for you,” Korse said with that same slight-smile on his face. Aeon's brow wrinkled in confusion.
“For me?” She asked, not understanding.
“Yes, I came here to offer you a job at Bewtter Living Industries,” he stated frankly.
"Oh. . .” Aeon was taken off-guard. “Oh, wow. I don't know what to say. . .” she felt suddenly self-conscious and shy. Aeon wasn't a fool, she saw what BL/Ind was doing to the country. She knew what it would mean if she worked for them. But how could she turn Korse down without offending him, something she also knew wasn't wise to do? Aeon all of the sudden had the sensation of being caught in a net made of gold.
“You'd have better pay and. . .” he looked around at the garage with disdain, “working conditions. All your future medical and dental expenses will be covered.” His voice had a gravely quality, but his words were dripping with honey. “And much more.”
Aeon mustered all the sincerity at her disposal, “Mr. Korse, that sounds wonderful . . . but I just started working here and I feel like I just got settled in. Despite what I said earlier, this job is challenging, and I like testing my abilities. Carl may seem as though he doesn't like me, but the truth is he needs me. I'm not trying to sound egotistical, I promise.” It took all of her care to explain things to him slowly, and not have the words rush out of her mouth as they were want to do.
Korse eyed her for a moment, seeming to weigh her intent carefully. Then he smiled, matching the sickly-sweetness of his words, “What a shame. Oh well, Aeon, I respect your choice.” He reached into his tweed overcoat and pulled out a business-card and set it on the desk. “If you should reconsider, the offer stands.” He turned abruptly and strode out of the shop with the same air of confidence as he strode in. As Korse was leaving, he said without turning around, “I hope your surgery goes well.”
The parting words had such an ominous timbre to them that Aeon wondered if she had just made a massive mistake and doomed herself.
Gerard gazed out the train window watching the arid landscape roll by but not really seeing it. His mind was consumed with thoughts he didn't want to think. He couldn't relive those memories.
Amara, she was such a sweet kid, and so full of spirit. She reminded him so much of. . .but no, it was impossible. Gerard admitted to himself that Amara did look a bit like her. He also acknowledged that it was highly improbable that the two were related. It was just a coincidence, he told himself. There was something special about Amara; he couldn't quite determine what it was about her that made him think that.
No matter her origins, Gerard became determined that Amara would be kept safe. He felt it was necessary, that she was the key to something. A compulsion he couldn't name or control. The girl's big, round, green eyes and her beautiful smile stirred something in his heart.
*
As the hours flew by, Aeon began to notice something interesting about the Killjoys. Besides the fact that she was treated like an old high school friend with in a few minutes of meeting them, Aeon observed that all the Bl/Ind advertisements, the reminders to “take all your pills” and what not, were being tuned out. It was strange, almost peaceful. In today's world, one could hardly escape Bl/Ind's ever-present voice. Radio transmissions, video ads, billboards, and posters were even more pervasive that they were 10-15 years ago, and now the majority were Bl/Ind ads. Aeon never thought that anything could overpower their oppressiveness. But around the guys, Aeon had nearly forgotten about Bl/Ind, which is probably why she had had that bad episode earlier, which Gerard had witnessed.
Aeon shook herself from that train of thought and glanced around at the group. Frank and Amara were deadlocked in a game of checkers, while Ray looked on. Mikey had pulled out his bass and was playing it quietly. Gerard sat gazing out the window, but looked miles away. Aeon wanted to approach him but he didn't look like he wanted company at the moment. Plus, Aeon was afraid that he would hold her to her previous promise. Things would be much simpler if she kept her condition a secret. She didn't want to worry them unnecessarily, nor did Aeon want to disrupt the cheer that had descended on the group since Amara had arrived.
Well, everyone but Gerard. He seemed even more pensive than before. Aeon shrugged, and stood up and went over to where Mikey was sitting. He gave her a small smile as she sat next to him. He paused his bass-playing for a moment to acknowledge her presence. Aeon listened for a while before speaking up.
“What's the name of the song you're playing?” she asked.
Mikey didn't falter. He chuckled. “No name,” he told her. “Not really a song, either.” he smiled faintly. “It's just how I imagined Amara would sound if she were music,” he admitted shyly.
Aeon grinned as she listened. It was beautiful, with a bouncy beat, and a bold yet complex melody. “Why, Mikey,” Aeon smiled at him admiringly, “I never suspected you were a softy inside.” Mikey looked at her horrified as he froze. She laughed and patted his arm reassuringly.
“Don't worry, your secret is safe with me.” She smirked her quirky smirk and winked at him.
Mikey blushed and tried to brush off her teasing with a sigh and roll of his eyes. “Can you do Ray?” Aeon asked discreetly with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. This won her a full grin from Mikey.
“Just listen,” he said with a smug smirk.
*
After Aeon had heard Mikey's bass versions of the group, she returned to her seat. Gerard saw her movement, and looked over at her. He moved to sit down next to her. Outside, the sun was beginning to wane, bathing the world in a yellow-orange light. Ray and Mikey were taking Amara over to the cafe to get dinner. Frank looked like he had passed out in his seat. Gerard saw this as an opportunity to approach Aeon.
“Hey,” she said nonchalantly, even though she wasn't looking forward to what was coming. “Are you alright? You looked pretty lost in thought over there.”
“I'm alright,” he said, avoiding her gaze. “I was just. . .thinking about the past.”
Aeon nodded, not wanting to pry. After all, they had only met a few hours ago, despite how she felt.
“That's not why I came over here,” he looked at her significantly.
Aeon looked at her feet. “I remember my promise,” she said in a low voice.
“So start talking,” he urged. For all he knew, she could be addicted to prescription medicine. At least, that's what it seemed like. He had dealt with withdrawals before, and what he had seen greatly resembled the symptoms of withdrawal.
“I guess I'll start from the beginning. When I was 16, I was diagnosed with a rare heart condition. The doctors gave me pills to help regulate my heart. But there's only so much medicine can do. They told me I would need surgery at some point in the future, if I wanted to continue living normally. It took a few years for my parents to raise enough money to send me to Battery City, which has the best medical facilities in the country. My parents would settle for no less. They drained their savings so I could live in Battery City. What you saw before is what happens to me if I forget to take my medicine.” Aeon fell silent, waiting for his reaction.
“I am so sorry,” Gerard said quietly. “I shouldn't have asked.”
“No it's. . .it's just that I don't want people to look at me differently. Whenever I tell anyone about my heart they run for the hills.” The words tumbled out of her mouth like an avalanche. “I was afraid it would scare you off too. And since I'm moving to a strange city I could really use some friends.”
Gerard looked at her with a half-smile and said, “I don't scare easily.”
“Good,” Aeon said matching his wry smile. It faded as she thought of something. “Are you going to tell the rest of the guys?” She asked, her smile fading and her eyes fixed on her shoelaces.
“Well,” Gerard said frankly, “I think they would want to know, but it's up to you. If you want to keep it secret, I'll respect your decision.”
Aeon didn't look at him. She felt so naked under his gaze and it unnerved her that she let herself become so exposed. Her gaze was glued on utterly 90's geometric design of the carpet. She managed to say, “Thank you,” quietly and with sincerity.
Gerard glanced out at the scenery, “It's getting dark, we should get some rest.” He got up and went to go check on Amara.
Aeon took a quick scan of the cabin. Frank was already asleep and snoring quite loudly. She had to stifle a chuckle, not wanting to disturb him. Mikey was reclining in his seat with earbuds in, but it didn't look like he had slipped into sleep just yet. Ray looked like he couldn't get comfortable enough. He kept tossing and turning, never quite settling. Gerard was making sure Amara was comfortable, letting her lie her head down in his lap. He took to watching the landscape out the window again until Aeon saw him finally nod off.
Aeon suddenly felt very tired. The day had been very long, and eventful. Indeed, so much had happened that Aeon felt as if she had been on this train her whole life. That everything else she remembered had been a dream, and she would be on this train forever, never really arriving at her destination. She felt as if she could just fade into train with the rest of the bad 90's décor and cleaner scent. Like a ghost. . .
*
The duffel-bag thumped as Aeon dropped it into the trunk of a taxi. The sky was dark, but the florescent streetlights kept the train-station lit up like Vegas. Along with the friendly cab-driver, the guys helped load her luggage into the taxi. Except for Frank, who held a still-sleeping Amara and guarded their luggage. Aeon hugged each of the guys in turn, thanking them for everything.
“You sure you'll be alright?” Ray asked as he pulled away from her embrace.
She nodded. “All my things were shipped ahead of time to an apartment, and I have a job at a local mechanic shop.” Aeon assured the wild-haired guitarist.
“And your surgery. . .” Mikey asked, not masking his concern very well.
“I'll let you know when the date is set,” she replied, as if she were discussing a wedding or party date.
“Good,” Frank said handing Amara over to Gerard so he could hug Aeon, “cause we're gonna come bug you in the hospital till you get better.” This made Aeon smile. His levity was laced with a dose of seriousness, but it was exactly what she needed.
For a while no one said anything, but then Gerard spoke up. “Don't be a stranger,” he said with one of his wry smiles. Aeon grinned and nodded.
“Hey, we're neighbors now,” she said, “you won't be able to get rid of me.”
Gerard shook Amara gently so she could say goodbye to Aeon.
“What. . .?” Amara said groggily and looked around.
“Time to go, sweetie,” Gerard said and transferred her into Aeon's arms. Amara wrapped her slender arms around Aeon's neck and squeezed.
“See you around, kiddo,” Aeon said and then put Amara on her feet, leaning over so that she was eye-level with the girl. She glanced out at the rest of the guys, then back at Amara. “Make sure they stay out of trouble, will you?” Aeon asked in a low voice.
Amara grinned. “If I can,” she chuckled and hugged Aeon one last time before climbing into Ray's arms.
Aeon ducked into the cab and closed the door. She watched through the back window as the group shrunk and got farther and farther away. The car turned a corner, cutting them off from her view. She turned to face forward again, feeling uncertain about the future.
*
Three weeks had past since Aeon arrived in Battery City. Her surgery was scheduled for the following week on Monday and everything was going well. She hadn't seen the guys since she got here, but she had talked with them on the phone. They were surprisingly vague about their activities over the past three weeks, but Aeon was so busy at work that she didn't have much time to wonder about it.
Word had spread about Aeon's mechanical genius and soon her shop became the most highly recommended mechanist shop in town. This had her boss scheduling her extra shifts and working overtime. Despite the fact the extra work was detrimental to her condition, Aeon couldn't say no. She loved what she did and she didn't want to risk getting fired.
It was during one of these additional shifts, on the Friday before her surgery, that Aeon got an unexpected visitor. He strode into the garage with and air of confidence and purpose. The sun had already set, so the shop was awash with the yellow glow of old light-bubs. It was quiet except for the distant sound of a radio station playing rock music. To the visitor's surprise, the shop was apparently vacant.
“Hello?” He called out, knowing someone must in the open and aglow garage. There was a clatter of tools and a movement from the corner of his eyes.
“I'll be with you in just a second,” a feminine voice called from behind the open hood of a 1996 Jeep Cherokee. The man sauntered over to the 23-year-old car and saw a young woman with light-brown hair bent over the engine. “Broken belt,” Aeon informed the stranger without looking up from her work. She extracted the part in question from the Jeep. “And I thought this one would be a challenge.” Aeon discarded the shredded belt and finally looked the man in the face.
The man had deep-set eyes, with dark circles underneath, and a bald head. He was dressed in a curious mix between a 30's cat, an 1800's pirate, and a cowboy. Aeon had to stare at him for a few moments before she remembered herself.
“What can I do for you, mister. . .” she paused giving him the opportunity to supply his name.
“Korse,” he said to her with mild smile and a calm voice.
“Mr. Korse,” Aeon repeated with a friendly smile. She stuck out her hand and then realized it was dirty. “Sorry, I'm Aeon Riley. Korse. . .why does that name sound familiar? Oh! You're the guy who runs Better Living Industries aren't you?” Aeon asked as she walked into a bathroom to wash her hands. “Or do you just have the same name as him. I'm sorry, I really am terrible at keeping up with the news. Well you must be the Korse, I don't think I've ever heard of anyone else with that name.” She prattled on, raising her voice so he could hear her while he stood waiting at the Cherokee. Aeon came out of the bathroom and finally shook his hand properly.
“Here I am going on and on when you probably just want to talk business.”
“It's quite alright Ms. Riley,” Korse said in his even tone. In the background the radio switched from music to the voice of the DJ.
“Good evening tumbleweeds! Those tiny radioactive lights in the air are so beautiful tonight, they're making me think back to the good old days. This one goes out to all my stars in that overhead velvety blanket who remembers the time before we were blind.” A guitar riff started playing and Aeon recognized the song as “Video Killed the Radio Star”. Korse was visibly peeved, though he tried a great deal to hide his ire.
“RILEY!” A thunderous voice boomed from another room. “I told you to turn that mutinous shit off! I don't want it playing in my garage!”
“Alright Carl,” Aeon said and grudgingly acquiesced. “Sorry that's my boss,” she said to Korse. He nodded.
“I completely understand, Ms-”
“Please, you can just call me Aeon, if you like,” she interrupted, dismissing the formalities.
“Well, Aeon, it seems as if you have some workplace tension going on.” He said reasonably.
She sighed and sat down in chair behind the front desk. “It's nothing I can't handle,” Aeon shrugged. “So you never did tell me how 'Carl's Auto Repair' can be of service to you.”
“Actually, Aeon, I came here for you,” Korse said with that same slight-smile on his face. Aeon's brow wrinkled in confusion.
“For me?” She asked, not understanding.
“Yes, I came here to offer you a job at Bewtter Living Industries,” he stated frankly.
"Oh. . .” Aeon was taken off-guard. “Oh, wow. I don't know what to say. . .” she felt suddenly self-conscious and shy. Aeon wasn't a fool, she saw what BL/Ind was doing to the country. She knew what it would mean if she worked for them. But how could she turn Korse down without offending him, something she also knew wasn't wise to do? Aeon all of the sudden had the sensation of being caught in a net made of gold.
“You'd have better pay and. . .” he looked around at the garage with disdain, “working conditions. All your future medical and dental expenses will be covered.” His voice had a gravely quality, but his words were dripping with honey. “And much more.”
Aeon mustered all the sincerity at her disposal, “Mr. Korse, that sounds wonderful . . . but I just started working here and I feel like I just got settled in. Despite what I said earlier, this job is challenging, and I like testing my abilities. Carl may seem as though he doesn't like me, but the truth is he needs me. I'm not trying to sound egotistical, I promise.” It took all of her care to explain things to him slowly, and not have the words rush out of her mouth as they were want to do.
Korse eyed her for a moment, seeming to weigh her intent carefully. Then he smiled, matching the sickly-sweetness of his words, “What a shame. Oh well, Aeon, I respect your choice.” He reached into his tweed overcoat and pulled out a business-card and set it on the desk. “If you should reconsider, the offer stands.” He turned abruptly and strode out of the shop with the same air of confidence as he strode in. As Korse was leaving, he said without turning around, “I hope your surgery goes well.”
The parting words had such an ominous timbre to them that Aeon wondered if she had just made a massive mistake and doomed herself.
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