Old Fart

A few hours had passed since leaving S.T.A.R. Labs. The two were now on the highest floor of a skyscraper, dining at a luxurious restaurant. It was a beautiful view, the sun finally touching the horizon. Alice's phone had been ringing nonstop. She'd put it on silent long ago.

"Here comes the airplane! Zoooom!" The lovely doll exclaimed.

There was a cut of steak attached to her fork. She raised it to Sora's mouth. Her expression was so satisfied, the young Lockhart was worried she'd explode into rainbows. The fork kept pushing at his lips so he finally took a bite.

"Fufufu!" She giggled.

"Mmm…it's good." Sora commented.

As he savored the rich flavor, he glanced at the mistress. She was staring at her fork while breathing heavily. Weird giggles escaped her lips and a flush of red appeared on her cheeks. The fork quickly entered her little mouth, allowing her tongue to search every nook and cranny of it. Sora watched with a deadpan. Her eyes were rolled back as if his saliva was the most delicious drug.

'If she wasn't so beautiful I might've lost my appetite.' He thought while eating his own meal.

Alice always found new ways to surprise him. Her obsession with him was unhealthy. Sora enjoyed it regardless. Who wouldn't? Once the two finished their meals, a comfortable silence remained.

"...We have three choices." Sora announced while checking his phone. The mature beauty tilted her head.

"Hmmm?"

"Go back to our suite, go to a basketball game, or return to S.T.A.R. Labs."

Hearing his words, Alice quickly grew defensive. She immediately frowned. It was too cute.

"No! We aren't going back to those people yet. Let them freak out for a while longer." She declared.

"The suite?"

"No! I'm tired, but I don't want the day to be over." She whined.

"...I see. We should hurry then. The game starts in 15 minutes."

The two quickly made their way down to the parking lot. It was almost twenty minutes later when they reached the stadium. They were late. Luckily, Sora had acquired a private room on the way. Anything was possible with money. It didn't matter if people were already occupying the room.

Alice was struggling to keep her eyes open. As they made their way to the private room, an old man dressed in a suit with glasses gave Sora a condescending look. The sleepy man only glanced at him before moving on.

Multiple civilians were being kicked out of one of the private rooms. Once it was empty, the workers nodded to the Lockharts. Sora immediately plopped onto a large couch and brought the tired doll onto his lap.

It didn't seem like they were late by that much. The announcer was still calling the names of the players. This seemed to be an important match.

"Here it is, folks. The moment you've all been waiting for! The Gotham Giants and Central City Miners throw down in game seven! The winner of this game will make it to finals!" The man announced.

The game was underway. With a jump ball to start, the Miners were the first to have possession. A whistle was blown not even 5 seconds into the game.

"Travel!" The ref announced.

Sora raised an eyebrow. They were already making calls? It didn't seem clean at all. There could be a possibility that this game was fixed. Still, it wasn't his problem.

"Sora?" Alice hummed.

"Hmmm?"

"Why did he blow the whistle already?" She asked.

"...It's because he traveled."

"What's that?"

A wry smile appeared on his face. Only now did he understand that Alice had no knowledge on basketball. With a patient mind, he explained the rules to her. The game would carry on. It was a loud and energetic audience but that didn't stop the broken doll from closing her eyes. Her breaths were even.

Sora put a blanket over her for warmth. Alice always felt the most comfortable on his lap. He wouldn't change that. As time went on, something unexpected happened. The door opened to reveal the same old man in a suit and tie. He entered the private room and sat at the table filled with beverages.

"...How did you get in here? The door is supposed to lock from only one side."

"...................."

The old man didn't respond. He was too busy filling up a glass of alcohol. A grumpy expression could be seen on his face. The sleepy man frowned. Who the fuck was this old guy?

"...Did I say you could be here?" Sora spoke up again. His words were much slower this time. The tone implied that if the old man didn't respond, he'd get physical.

"Your suit is trash." The old man finally spoke.

"...Huh?"

After taking a swig of his drink, he glanced over at Sora who was still on the couch. He ignored the sleeping Alice and focused on the young Lockhart's clothes. A look of arrogance adorned his wrinkled face.

"Your suit. It's garbage."

"Ohhh…so you walked into my private room and drank my alcohol…just to talk shit?"

'These old fucks. They don't care about anything at all.' Sora grumbled mentally.

"Silk blend, satin lining, and velvet undertones. Do you even care about your appearance? You look like a fucking giraffe."

Sora couldn't help but roll his eyes. He was literally wearing a high quality designer suit! It was a subtle black suit that only showed its brilliance if one looked closely. Who the hell did this old man think he was?

"...You must be a tailor. Do you make suits? They better be good. I'd hate to burn your business down."

"Pfttt. Hahaha! Are they good?! They're much better than your trash collection. My suits can block bullets!" The old man responded.

"Siiigh. Who are you?" Sora finally asked.

"Paul. Paul Gambi. I've made plenty of suits for people like you."

"People like me? And who are these people like me?"

"Penguin, Black Mask, Morningstar-"

"Morningstar? Lucifer Morningstar?" Sora interrupted.

"Who else, idiot?"

'...I'm gonna slap this guy's head off.' He thought. A vein appeared on the lazy man's forehead.

"Unfortunately for you, Mr. Gambi, I don't need a suit that can block bullets."

"What's your address? I'll send you a suit."

"What? I just said-"

"Shut up and give me your information! Young kids like you don't have any idea what's good for them." Paul interrupted.

"...You haven't even done any measurements."

"I know your measurements."

"...How?"

"Did I not just lay eyes on you? I'm losing my patience, brat."

Sora heaved a sigh of irritation. This guy was exhausting! After giving him the info, Paul shook his head.

"A Lockhart brat? Ptui. No wonder you're such a boy toy. She must be your handler. You fuck her good, huh?"

"...Do you have no fear of death?"

"Hmph. If I die, the world will end." Paul answered.

Without wasting any more time, the old man finally got up. He casually made his way to the exit with a whole bottle of alcohol in his hand. Sora's bottle. Right before he opened the door, he turned around.

"One more thing, brat. Don't you ever buy another suit without contacting me first. Alright, kid? I'm one of the greatest blessings you'll ever get in your pathetic life. Rich parasites, feeding on the lower class to get your money. If it wasn't me, you'd be-"

"Shut up! Just leave already, you annoying old fuck!" Sora roared. A genuine smile finally graced the old man's face. The door closed to signify his exit.

The angry look on Sora's face immediately disappeared. It was soon replaced with a lazy smile. All of that noise caused Alice to shuffle a bit on his lap. She hadn't woken up though.

'I know your game, old fart. It'll take more than that to get under my skin.'

He couldn't help but wonder what made Paul Gambi reach out to him. Was it really because of his looks? Was it because of his wealth…or was it because Sora was so young?