"So... What are you gonna do when dad finds out about this?" The smoke poured from Mason's mouth as he spoke, a slightly questioning look was plastered on his face, along with his usual half-smile that came from the drug he was smoking. James just shook his head, more at the fact that his brother was getting high this early in the day. Truth be told, he had no idea what he was going to do when his father was going to find out, which was, unfortunately, inevitable. There was no doubt that him and his brother were going to have to endure yet another lecture about something he could care less about, but to James, it was worth it, seeing as how he had helped someone who really looked like she needed it. With a small sigh, he shrugged and turned to Mason. "You know what? I have no clue. Probably just explain to him the situation. I mean, what was I supposed to do? Just let that ass hole treat her like a peice of shit? Like some other whore in the bar? No. You and I both know that I wasn't going to let that happen." "Such a saint," was Mason's reply. He didnt want to admit it, but he too was starting to grow a soft spot for the hardcore druggie from a lower district. "Look, all I am saying is that you need to watch it. You dont even know her that well, actually, hardly at all. For all we know, she could be some kind of a theif, a murderer. I mean, you met her last night, for crying out loud!" James opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the sound of Vander's voice. "Thanks. Best shower I've had in ages." James turned, and a small smile formed on his face, complimented by heated and now somewhat rosy cheeks. Mason rolled his eyes. "You're very welcome," James said, "Shall we go? I know a nice, small place where we can go to eat. It isnt too big, and it has good food." ---- She forced a smile. Eating somewhere small sounded best. If she found herself unable to last through breakfast, an event she internally prayed would not happen, Vander wouldn't cause a scene by leaving abruptly. "Small place, good food...sounds nice." She made her way to the door where she had left her worn black combat boots the night before and grabbed them. Vander sat on the edge of the couch to tie the laces. No matter how much she tried to hide it, her hands tremored just slightly. Lucid. Another reminder that she needed a fix. She took a steadying breath once her boots were on, crushing the urge for what felt like the thousandth time that morning. Standing, she looked to James and Mason, ready to go. ---- Henry Jamison smiled as a man, dressed head-to-toe in a suie made of some of the finest materials in Ancora, sat down across from him at a small table in one of the many Five-star restaraunts in District 0. The two men shook hands and placed the fabric napkins on their laps. A waiter came by and smiled at the two men. "Hello. Welcome to Cicada. My name is Phillip, and I will be your server for today. As you notice here, we have the House Special; composed o-" "Thank you, Phillip," Henry interrupted, smiling politely, "but we wont be eating today. Could you just get me a Martini. That would be nice. And my friend will be having-" "Just a water, please," the well dressed man said. The waiter nodded and walked away, leaving the two men alone to talk. Henry looked at the man and smiled slightly. "It's good to see you, John, or should I say, Supreme Cheif of Police." John shook his head and held up a hand. "No, please, call me John. We have been friends for a long time, no need to change titles just because of our positions, eh?" Henry nodded, and John continued. "I asked you to meet me because-" The waiter came by with the drinks and placed them on the table. Once the drinks were served, and the waiter gone, he continued. "Because a case came up, and it involves you indirectly..." Henry raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his drink. "Continue." "You see, there was a murder in one of the lower districts, District 10, to be exact. The police there found a body of a young woman who was at a club called The Spit, last night. Although we have a main suspect, some low life fighter there, we still need to question everyone who was there that night, and it just so happens that your two sons were there. That means we need to question them, as well, and once we do, it is sure to go to the public, which would mean bad publicity for you." Henry nodded and took another drink. There was silence for a while, save th other sounds of patrons eating, and the soft melodies of an ancient song "Moonlight Serenade" by Glenn Miller, playing in the background. After some time, the soon-to-be president spoke. "John, thank you for telling me this. Now, you and I have been good friends for a while, have we not? Right. I thought so. So then I have a favor to ask of you. If there is any way possible, I need you to dismiss the case altogether. The girl is no one important. She is lower District trash. So it isnt that big of a deal. People down there die all the time. What is another? In exchange, I can reward you with a good incentive, a pay-raise, for your troubles.." The Supreme Cheif of Police nodded, and the two finished their drinks and went their separate ways. ---- James and Mason, along with their guest, arrived at a small, homy looking restaruant a couple of blocks away from their apartment. Cafe Pinot, athough small, was near full capacity with people having brunch. The two men walked in, and were greeted by a rather snooty looking man with a slightly French accent. He greeted the two men with a smile on his face; one that faded slightly when he caught sight of their female guest. Managing the best polite smile he could muster, he ushered the three to a seat in the back patio of the restaurant. The walk to the table itself was like the march of convicts to the gallows. Almost everyone had their eyes on the small group, especially on the female with the outrageous hair cut, black combat boots, plugs, and other non-District 1 attire. ---- Despite the fact that she was exhausted and distracted, Vander couldn't help but smirk slightly at the stares. Even though she was dressed better than she ever had in years, and looked more put-together than she had in months, it was still clear that she didn't belong. Once seated, they were offered menus, and had their drink orders taken. James looked up at the sun and smiled as the warmth met his face, obviously unphased by the looks given to the group. Mason, who was wearing a pair of green sunglasses to hide his bloodshot eyes, seemed to be fully invested on something other than the menu, then muttered something about thinking that he had slept with the female on one of the other tables, before shaking his head and returning his attention to his menu. After some time, James brought his face down and turned his head in the direction of Vander. "So," he mumbled, "What are you getting? I think the eggs and French toast sounds good." ---- Vander glanced down at her menu, looking through the vast array of offered meals. Eggs, pancakes, skillets, sides of bacon and toast and hash browns. A year ago, maybe even a few months ago, her mouth would have been watering. But now, the thought of a large meal only caused her face to visibly grow a few shades paler. She slowly set the menu down, shaking her head. "I'm fine with just toast. Something small," she answered quietly. ---- James nodded and opened his mouth to speak, when the waiter came back to hand out the drinks. Mason laughed, nodding and turning over to the group, after looking at the girl again, to confirm that he had, indeed, slept with her. James shook his head and turned to the waiter, ordering his breakfast, and the toast for Vander. Mason ordered a skillet. Once the waiter had left with the order, James turned his head back to Vander. "So, Vander. I don't think we've really had to have the chance to talk much. Why dont you tell me a bit about yourself. What are your hobbies? Interests? Where did you go to school?" ---- She fixed him with an uncomfortable look. The small talk would work in other circumstances, with other people. But Vander had to consider her answers carefully. She tapped a finger against the table as she spoke, growing more obviously stressed by the second. "I was homeschooled, actually. My dad, and some tutors. I ended up getting my graduation degree when I was sixteen." Vander paused, running a hand habitually through her hair and brushing it back out of her face. "I was going to head to Bohr's Post-Secondary. Took a year off to try to save up some money...." she trailed off, realizing she was heading into dangerous territory. She had started her college fund off by synthesizing street drugs in her basement. Not exactly something she wanted to proudly admit to. "Um...it just didn't really work out." She shrugged awkwardly, the finger tapping resuming. Anxiety. Restlessness. She needed Lucid, and it was taking a truly tremendous effort to continue the conversation. "What about you?" she asked, directing the question primarily back at James, but also at Mason. ---- Mason turned to James, who had turned to Mason, and they both smiled. As if it was rehearsed, the two started their dialogue. "We both go to Westpoint Medical College," said Mason. "Paid, all expenses, by our [i]lovely[/i] father, Henry Jamison, and mother, Caroline Jamison." "They let us leave District 0 to live here in District 1, so long as we behaved ourselves, and stayed out of trouble." "Which so far, we have been doing, for the most part," James said with a small wink. "We both like to party," Mason added, "Although I think I am more the party type. Oh, and I'm the druggie of the family, if you couldn't tell already. Father doesnt approve much, but I am not throwing my life away using them, so he doesn't [i]really[/i] care." The man stopped suddenly as his sentence registered in his head. He mentally slapped himself, but he couldn't apologize out loud, or esle James would figure something out. Before any of them could say anything more, the food arrived. The waiter refilled drinks that needed to be refilled, and then left promptly. James quickly dived into his meal, cutting a piece of his French toast after drenching it in Butter Pecan syrup, and taking a bite. He let out a loud "mmm" and closed his eyes as he swallowed the sweet morsel. ---- Vander stared at her toast as it arrived. Two slices of rye, buttered lightly. Mason's words had hit hard, seeming almost like a physical blow. She picked up a slice of toast in her thin fingers, nibbling on the edge of the crust. Her other hand subconsciously continued to tap an anxious rhythm against the tabletop. The toast probably tasted fine, but it was bland on her tongue. A few forced bites later, she set it down again. She took a slow breath, looking as though she was possibly on the verge of tears. [i]Stay. You can fight it. Just stay. Don't think about it.[/i] She picked up the slice of toast again, unaware of the handful of strange looks she was getting. Her hand trembled violently, and it fell back to the plate. [i]Eat something. Stay. St-[/i]. "I-I'm sorry," she stammered out, rising from her chair. A wave of lightheadedness caught her, and the world around her swayed for a half a second before steadying itself. "I've got to go, I'm sorry." She was already walking, even as she was finishing talking, making a beeline for the entrance. District 16 was a hell of a walk away. But she knew that desperation would get her back to her apartment, back to the precious hypodermic that she so badly craved. ---- A hand shot out and grabbed the female, stopping her in her tracks. Then came a gruff voice. "Vander Pzypialkowski, you are under arrest." James shot up from his seat, surprised that Vander had acted the way she had acted, and even more-so surprised that cops had shown up to arrest her, as well. He took a couple of steps towards her, his brother right behind, when he, too, was stopped by a police officer. His hands were brought to his back and cuffed, just like his brother's and Vander's, and they were all led to a couple of District 1 squad cars, shoved inside, and taken away from the restaurant.