Drops of Jupiter{Irja}

[Fulbert Brézé]

Working on a Saturday morning was a drag. Getting up at five in the morning, Fulbert lazily dragged himself out of his bed and stumbled into a freezing cold shower (the hot water was bust again). Fully awake but not exactly keen on this state of mind, he dressed and fixed up his hair before rushing to catch a train he was already late for. Upon arriving at the station, it dawned on him that he wouldn’t be able to grab his usual herbal tea from the coffee shop because he’d left his wallet at home in his rush to leave for work. Cursing under his breath, he gathered up his white puffer jacket closer to his slender body and headed towards the station where the next train was leaving from. He’d just have to go without till his lunch break.

Luckily he arrived on time – by the skin of his teeth – and he slunk into the small music store without his boss noticing him. He acted meek and sucked up to the boss when he did eventually run into him a few minutes later. The music store Fulbert worked for wasn’t part of one of those big chains, and so had few customers. It was a dreary existence, dusting CDs of unknown bands from America and England, with dreary English names and terrifying cover images. Hardly anyone cared for the alternative French bands, let alone these inferior foreigners. It was Fulbert’s life though, music. It made him feel himself. Almost like the gentle sound of that one man’s voice...He sighed and gazed at the clock, willing the hours to turn themselves over faster so he could get home sooner. Hopefully he’d break the cycle of missing his train, and actually get on the right train for once.

[Irja James]

The street lamps dimmed slowly in unison with the light rolling over the horizon, retreating their energy source for another night. People creeped slowly out of their homes, in bath robes, pajamas, and other nightwear to retrieve the morning paper and glance around at the beautiful morning. It was a crisp, chilly hour and in the James manoir the wood flooring felt like ice beneath one's bare feet. Pitter patter came the soft sound of footsteps down the corridor but went unnoticed by the sleeping household. The young man rolled under his duvet into a better position under the lull of sleep, his room dark behind closed curtains. The spring filled bed creaked under additional weight, it's groan rousing him to attention. Irja stared through the dark into the young face of his brother, his irritated attitude barely showing in the lack of light.

. . . What is it Kailie?

He asked the other in monotone, pulling back the blankets and sitting up. Kailie sat at the end of the bed, leaning towards his brother in a mid-motion that he was sure would have been to wake him up. Whining loudly the younger of the two looked distraught, " You promised! You promised, you promised, you promised! Remember?" He dragged out the words like any younger sibling begging for something, bouncing at each remark. Ofcourse Irja remembered, but so early in the morning? He'd promised to get some cd's Kailie wanted from the music store downtown a week ago and had not been able to forget it with Kailie's constant badgering.

Fine, Fine. I'm up. Just a moment.

Lifting his watch into view he frowned. It wasn't quite as early as he had thought... Faint light shone through the thick curtains, assuring him that the watch was on time. Sighing he returned a smile to Kaile in apology for not waking up sooner. Soon after he found himself on the train, already it was half past nine, it's seats nearly empty. At the Harrington street stop he exited, paying and thanking the bus driver. He walked about a block before coming across the small shop. He'd visited it before when Kailie wanted something and for that matter, knew someone who worked there. Opening the door a small bell jingled that was tied to it, and instantly he felt the eyes of the employees on him as a potential customer. Small businesses always bugged him for this reason. Hurrying to the far left of the room where the American imported cds were he searched for the bands that Kailie had written down for him.

[Fulbert Brézé]

Fulbert was bored out of his mind. He wandered through the shop, re-arranging all the CDs so they were under the right name and in proper alphabetical and chronological order – it really annoyed him when the old albums were in the middle of the collection! When he could obsess over the neatness of the CD arrangement no longer, he sat down at the till and doodled on post-it-notes. A few people came into the shop, and he looked up at them hopefully, but they left almost as soon as they entered. Time dragged its feet, and Fulbert sank lower in the chair he was sitting in as he fiddled first with his long black hair and then his lip rings. This occupation seemed to amuse him for a while, but he started to get frustrated again
“Jésus-Christ je m'ennuie” he muttered, just as a regular customer entered the shop. He greeted them unenthusiastically, but got up from his seat at the till and followed them around in case they wanted help anyway. They had an uninspiring conversation about a CD the customer had picked up, which Fulbert didn’t particularly care for but pretended he liked it too just to keep the customer happy.

No sooner had this customer left, another familiar face entered the shop. This face made Fulbert smile broadly and he wandered casually towards the other man.
“Oh hé là Irja! “ Fulbert greeted him. He peered over Irja’s shoulder at the list in his hand – totally disregarding the other man’s personal space, as he was prone to doing at even the best of times – and smiled.
"Est-ce que je peux vous aider avec quelque chose?" Fulbert asked hopefully, eager to actually do well in his job for once in his life. Maybe the good karma would work out and he’d catch the right train home? Spured on by this idea, Fulbert continued his friendly onslaught.
"Où est votre petit paquet d'énergie d'enfant de mêmes parents ? Je ne l'ai pas vu dans un moment," he commented, genuinely curious as to the whereabouts of the rainbow whirlwind that was Kailie James.

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_{Jésus-Christ je m'ennuie – Jesus Christ I’m bored
Oh hé là Irja! – Oh hey there Irja !
Est-ce que je peux vous aider avec quelque chose? – Can I help you with anything ?
Où est votre petit paquet d'énergie d'enfant de mêmes parents ? Je ne l'ai pas vu dans un moment – Where is your little bundle of sibling energy? I have not seen him in a while.}
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[Irja James]

I wanted to walk through the streets

The air in the room felt dry, unfiltered, almost as though the door or windows were rarely, if ever, left open to circulate an enlivening draft. Though, he thought, what should be expected? It was a music shop and liveliness, plantlife and atmosphere were not something you came looking for. A listless sigh escaped Irja's lips as he lifted a cd case from the rack and checked the list to determine if it was what Kailie wanted. He replaced it, it had been similar sounding but not the same. He scanned the names and albums of the rock bands all in English. Stephen had made him take English in highschool for two years, which he now found to be very helpful with the school and American and British students that came. Sadly, he didn't know enough to depict what the bright bubbly titles and such said but one. All he could tell is it had something to do with candy. Je devrais avoir su… mumbled Irja with a smile: He knew his brother better then to expect him to listen to any kind of ordinary music. He'd grab this one, just for good measure, even though it was not on Kailie's list.

From behind came the call of a friendly voice, and the soft pudder of steps. Irja continued to read, sure it was someone from the school who had recognized him.

Ah, bonjour.

He answered, but felt someone standing closely behind him. Turning his head to see a lean face framed with dark tones of long silk tassels. A smile followed this discovery, blooming into a grin. It was Fulbert, a wild young man who from what he knew, could not live without music. The young man set the disk where he'd found it, turning to elatedly reply to the other.

Mon, mon, fouineur en tant que toujours mouche ?
Mon frère a les classes aujourd'hui dont il ne pourrait pas sortir : Kailie m'a demandé de saisir quelques Cd pour lui.

He smiled to his own clever words and hummed gently an 'ummmm' at the offer of assistance, pondering thoughtfully in his mind if he did need any, or rather if he wanted any. From their previous conversations he'd learned quite abit about the male infront of him. He was only three years older then Irja but held a much more confident air to himself, always trapezing around and such. Oddly enough, he'd found himself quite fond of this fellow and his personality and nodded in reply as he made a final decision. Company never hurt anyone.

Très bien. Là où la force je trouvent ..... Backstreet Boys ? Et…. Heu… Puits. Tout ceci ?

Irja showed him the list once more. Perhaps seeing the written English titles would be of some help rather then hear Irja's awful pronunciation; he admitted he hadn't practiced it much in ages.

To feel something constant under my feet

Je devrais avoir su…- Figures [or] I should have known
Mon, mon, fouineur en tant que toujours mouche ?- My, My, nosy as always Fly?
Mon frère a les classes aujourd'hui dont il ne pourrait pas sortir : Kailie m'a demandé de saisir quelques Cd pour lui.- Kailie has classes today that he couldn't get out of: he asked me to grab some CDs for him.
Très bien. Là où la force je trouvent ..... Backstreet Boys ? Et…. Heu… Puits. Tout ceci ?-Very well. Where might I find..... The Backstreet Boys? And.... Er... Well. All this?

[Fulbert Brézé]

Fulbert laughed slightly, embarrassed at Irja’s playful rebuke. He couldn’t help being curious, it was just part of his nature. He ran a hand through his long hair to hide this, quickly flicking his wrist in an often repeated action to lay his fringe out of the way of most of his face. He nodded at Irja’s reply, remembering Kailie mentioned school getting busy for him in the waterfall of mostly utter nonsense that normally spouted from his mouth.
“ Vous des garçons de James êtes fonctionnement très dur!” he commented, glancing behind him at the sound of the door bell jingling. It was only another worker slipping out the shop for lunch. Fulbert frowned, suddenly remembering he’d left his wallet at home. No herbal tea for him today, obviously. Looking down, he picked under his nails at the dust that had collected there whilst re-arranging CDs. The black polish on them was a few days old, and chipped in a few places. Fulbert made a mental note to fix it up when he got home later.

When Irja showed him the piece of paper, he nodded thoughtfully, reading Kailie’s bubble handwriting several times in order to jog his memory. Appropriately, a Backstreet Boys song popped up in his head and settled itself down for the day, or at least till something more virulent booted it out. Fulbert almost made a repulsed face; he wasn’t a fan of them at all but he had to know all the music in the shop in order to aid their customers better.
“ Backstreet Boys ? Je pense que nous les avons…” Fulbert mused to himself, his dark eyes scanning the shelf in front of him. After a few moments of searching, he reached out a slender arm and plucked a couple of CDs from the shelf and held them out for Irja.
“ Nous n'avons pas leurs nouveaux albums, mais peut-être Kailie voudrait-il de toute façon… qui est s'il ne les a pas déjà?” Fulbert said, rubbing his thumb over one of the CD covers to clean off a bit of dirt on it. He got quite obsessive about the cleanliness of the CDs in the shop sometimes, and his co-workers would tease him about this often. Fulbert found himself gazing stupidly at Irja for just a short moment, but it was a long enough moment for him to realise he was doing it and how stupid he must look. Looking down slightly, so he wasn’t staring at Irja’s face, he stared at the other man’s shoulder instead. This was very silly. Fulbert had always known he was a bit different, and he’d never really seen the attraction with breasts, but he’d only ever had one boyfriend and he was reluctant to have any more. Not after that motorcycle crash...Fulbert sighed and his gaze ended up on Irja’s shoes.

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^{Vous des garçons de James êtes fonctionnement très dur! – You James boys are very hard working !
Backstreet Boys ? Je pense que nous les avons… – Backstreet Boys ? I think we have them …
Nous n'avons pas leurs nouveaux albums, mais peut-être Kailie voudrait-il de toute façon… qui est s'il ne les a pas déjà? – We don’t have the new albums but maybe Kailie would like these ones anyway…that is if he hasn’t already got them ?}

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