Chapter One: A Bard's Gold

Andrew made his way to work, his boots clicking in a rhythmic pattern as he trotted along. Finally, I lost that idiot… God, was he a pain, Andrew thought as he walked along the congested sidewalk, a relaxed and small grin over his face. “Yo, Andy!” A happy and feminine voice called out from ahead of the crowd. “A-Ah, yeah!” Andrew greeted in return, perking his head up to see if he could find her in the crowd.  “Andy, you’re late.” She giggled cheerfully as she jogged up to him, pushing haphazardly past the other citizens. “Hey, no need to push!” A blonde headed man exclaimed as SUMMER GELTRUDE emerged out of the crowd to greet him, her mahogany hair lazily covering her cobalt eyes. “Summer… He sighed, crossing his arms for a moment and then resting his right hand on his forehead. “… Shouldn’t you be working things out with the gig? Don’t we have a lot of wires and technical business to work out?” He stressed the word ‘working’ in a futile attempt to try to get his point across. “I already got it all worked out, boss.” She beamed proudly, nodding.  “Where were you anyway?” She questioned just as quickly as she had answered.

Andrew let out a forced huff. How am I going to explain this? Crap, I don’t even believe the guy was Loki myself, He pondered for a moment then lied. “I met up with a fan. His name was… Um… Bill.” “Bill?” Summer questioned, her brow quirked in suspicion. “Ye-Yeah, Bill.” Andrew mentally slapped himself when his voice trembled. Crap, she’s got me dead in a lie now. He gulped, a small drop of warm sweat rolling off his brow. “Drew…” Summer breathed, disappointed. “… You lied to me, again…” She turned around, not wanting to glance at him in the eyes. “… I got some technical stuff to work out. Go talk to Blake.”  With that, she hiked off. This is my entire fault…. Look at her, stupid slump in her walk, Andrew grumbled mentally as he brushed a hand over his damp hair. Andrew slithered his hands in the pockets of his black jeans and strolled inside of the saloon.

BLAKE ESCORP, the black- haired lead guitarist of the band, welcomed him immediately. “Hey, man.” He quickly high-fived Andrew upon reuniting with him in the cool saloon, the smell of Samuel Adams and fresh barbeque flooding his nose as he inhaled, “Hey, Blake.” Andrew passed him a grin. “What toke you so long? Like, seriously, I was waitin’ here for, like, ever.” Blake made a hurried snicker as he slipped on his lucky, fingerless, leather glove. “Well,” Andrew huffed, his arms crossing once more as irritated expression appeared on his face. “I kinda got held up and mugged by some stupid collage student.” Blake frowned, his gloved hand reaching out and resting on Andrew’s left shoulder. “Dude, man, I’m so sorry for you. Listen, if I meet that guy, I’ll give him a swift punch to the face.” He assured with a caring grin, removing his hand from Andrew’s shoulder. Andrew solemnly nodded, his eyes caught in a glare as he thought about the past meeting. “I’d rather do it myself...” He grumbled, his eyes rolling.

Blake nodded and scratched his head. “Hey, how are you and Summer goin’?” He questioned, yawning softly as he rubbed his eyes. Andrew emitted a sigh, his right hand relaxing on the back of his neck. “She caught me lying--“ “Again?” Blake interjected, his voice saddened. His azure eyes growing sorrowed. Andrew looked away, grumbling swearwords under his breath. “How was it this time?” Andrew scoffed Blake’s question. Why is he asking me this? Andrew thought, his eyes narrow and his face held in a strong look of anger. I haven’t cheated on Summer since.... I don’t know... But it wasn’t recent. “I wasn’t cheating on her, Blake.” Andrew growled, pushing him away as he stomped off to make final preparations to the sound and software.

“Yeah, run off, Andrew.” Blake mocked as he followed after Andrew. “She deserves better than you, and you know that.” Andrew huffed unsteadily, his eyes becoming engulfed with fury and his fist pulling into a tight fist. “Shut up!” He screamed, spinning around and punching Blake hard in the nose. Blake’s nose broke as his fist made impact, the bones making a CRUNCH sound as fist connected to his nose. “G-Gah!” Blake cried in pain, his neck twisting from the force of the blow. “Andrew!” Summer shrieked in horror as she jogged up to them, her eyes filled with distress. Andrew’s breathing was heavy and stressed. “Are you alright?” Summer questioned, her arm going around Blake’s shoulder. “I-I’m bleeding.” Blake remarked as he wiped blood from under his nose, the scarlet fluid staining his fingers. “Andrew,” Summer glared coldly up at him. “Go.” She pointed to the door of the saloon. “What?” Andrew snarled. “Go. Now.” She commanded harshly, her sadness now being replaced with rage. Andrew scoffed and spit flew from his mouth. “Fine.” He hissed, matching her glare. “Stay with that loser, I’m leaving.” Andrew declared, stomping out of the saloon.

I hate that moron. I can’t believe Summer defends that scumbag.... Andrew fumed as trudged down the puddle filled ground, his head down and his eyes locked to the concrete. Who is he to judge my relationships? Suddenly, the sound of clapping from behind halted his thoughts. “Huh?” Andrew faintly gasped, tensing up and turning to face the source of the clapping. “Loki...” He frowned, watching the smirking immortal. Wait... His nose, it’s bleeding. Andrew’s eyes widened upon observing this. “Your nose....” Andrew mumbled, pointing to his nose. “Oh, this?” Loki smirked, wiping the blood away with his index finger. “Yeah, that.” Andrew grunted, glaring at Loki. Loki chuckled mischievously, rubbing his blood stained fingers together. “Answer me.” Andrew growled, his expression darkening. “Now!” Loki playfully cringed, unaltered by his hollering. “Fine, fine.” He sang playfully, smirking. “I was following you around and ran into trouble.” Andrew snarled, clinching his fist. “I want more than that.”

Loki chuckled once more, his head cocking back ever so slightly. “All mortals do.” Andrew grunted at his cryptic remark, rolling his eyes, he growled. “Shut up. I’ve had enough crap today.” Loki sighed, observing Andrew as he stomped off. When shall the mortals ever learn? He wondered and followed cautiously after him, staying as quiet as possible so it wouldn’t be heard. I wonder where he’s going... Loki thought as he trailed behind Andrew, his breathing quiet. “Stop following me, Loki.” Andrew glared over his shoulder at him. Loki chuckled and approached him. “Od’s beard, you’re smart.” Loki observed, a smirk laced along his face. “Whatever.” Andrew rolled his eyes, returning his glance to face the apartment complexes in the distance in front of him. “You know, Midgard is a very queer place.” Loki commented, observing the bizarre sights of Midgard, the zipping of automobiles, the scent of eateries and the sounds of the populations' inane chatter all fascinated Loki.

“Queer?” Andrew snorted, a small chuckle escaping his lips from Loki’s weird play on words. “Yes, queer.” He confirmed, practically glaring at him, offended by his attitude. “You need to talk different.  You’ll look like an idiot speaking like that.” Andrew chuckled under his breath at the glare Loki was giving him. “I beg you not to speak.” Loki scowled, huffing. “Wow, you’re a good actor, Loki. Keep this act up and I might actually believe that you’re really the God Of Mischief or whatever.” Andrew laughed, hitting Loki’s shoulder in a playful mood. “Discontinue this...” Loki growled, his eyes darkening faintly. “No, no really.” Andrew laughed, continuing on in his jesting. “Look at you, you claim to be Loki, The God Of Mischief. But, you’re hair isn’t even black.” Loki growled louder, his eyes darkening more. “Abandon your jesting, mortal.” He ordered, his voice reduced to a low growl. “And why would it trouble you if my hair isn’t raven?” Loki questioned, confused and marginally humiliated. “Because,” Andrew stated in a matter-of-fact voice, “it’s a known fact that the real Loki has black hair.” Loki glared coldly at him, his eyes illuminating his frustration.

“I have striking ginger hair, I have no need for petty black hair.” Loki retorted, running a hand through his hair to put empathizes on his restoration as a prideful smirk emerging across his lips. Andrew snickered challengingly, his eyebrow quirked. “I think you’re a poser. You’re a fake. The Loki I know talks like this: I am Loki, a god! And I will not be bullied by a stupid beast!” Andrew added in the most pathetic and mocking Loki impersonation he possibly could. Loki was fuming at this point. “Bolt your wretched mouth closed, senseless mortal!” He hissed loudly, his teeth gritted in rage and his fist pulling into a tight fist. Andrew laughed and stumbled back a bit, acting scared in a method to mock the angered god more. “Whoa, whoa, calm down there. It’s not my fault you’re as fake as Dolly Parton.” He teased, concealing a growing smirk on his face. “Forgive me, who is that?” Loki asked, exhaling.

“No one, Loki, no one.” Andrew laughed, nudging his shoulder. “Anyway, God Of Mischief, where are you staying tonight?” He questioned, his arms crossed. Hm... He has a point... I have no dwelling to slumber for the nightfall.. Loki pondered this for a moment, and then answered. “I have no dwelling to rest my head.” Loki admitted, sighing as his green eyes drifted downwards. Andrew shrugged. “I got an extra bed you can sleep in for the night.” He then added sarcastically. “We wouldn’t want a god like you to sleep outside.” Loki huffed and rolled his eyes at his sarcasm. “Yes, I shall receive your proposal.” Andrew nodded and threw a hand over his neck, his teeth gritted in slight frustration. “I hope you don’t mind dogs.” “Oh, it’s acceptable. My offspring is a wolf, well, one of them is.”

A/N: Ah, I decided to post one more chapter just because I felt like the one I gave you wasn't that great. Like the tilte states: This is still just a preview. If the demand for this book to be contined is high enough, than I shall continue it along side Villain Complex.