The Girl with the Lyre Tattoo

by Dennis the Menace


I Dreamed a Dream

The call had ended from Lyra's end, but Adrian stayed on, unaware that their call was being tapped.

Her phone was at her ear, sandwiched between her cheek and her shoulder, with a cigarette between her pursed lips, a trail of smoke floating up from the end. There was a slight chill that morning, a breeze coming form the window. She let the sun warm her bare back. She'd never worn clothes in her entire life, but here it was expected.

He let out a cheer on his end before it ended.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. At least Lyra was doing as she was told. She couldn't help but think of the injustice of it all, having to be forced to tag along with her. What was the rationale behind it? Lyra wanted to be here, to be human. But she could see the twisted logic behind it. She was meant to be motivation. There was nothing stopping Lyra from ignoring her duty and living her new life as one of these hairless apes. The conditions had been set. Once Lyra finished her mission, she would be allowed to return to Equestria. And she most definitely wanted to go back.

The disassembled components of a magnum sat on her table alongside a box of ammunition and a bottle of scotch. Her hands were stained with oil as she began reassembling the parts back together with painstaking, deliberate care. She racked the slide back, wiping it down with a cloth.

The only question was why couldn't her kidnappers do it? Why'd they have to find her, in the wrong place at the wrong time?

She held the gun up to her face, admiring the polished finish reflecting the sunlight.

If Adrian got too close to the truth, she would have to get rid of him.


Adrian nodded towards the cheery front desk woman, heading towards the elevator, his flip-flops slapping against the carpet with muted thuds. He wore a pair of cargo shorts (nobody in their right mind would want to see him in a Speedo) and a garishly loud Aloha shirt over a tank top. A red drawstring bag was slung over his shoulder, filled with two towels and sunscreen and around his neck, his favorite Nikon DLSR with compact lenses.

He imagined the elevator doors opening in a dramatic fashion with Lyra standing there, ready to greet him. Instead, what he got was the sound of her soft voice emanating from the balcony. She stood outside, clad in nothing but her two-piece and a matching bikini wrap tied around her waist. His eyes fell below her waist, and it dawned upon him that he'd helped her purchase a bikini thong. Her hips wiggled slightly as she leaned forward, her long shapely legs crossed and her rear in clear view.

Adrian was positive she was doing it on purpose just to mess with him.

She was not pitch-perfect, and her voice wasn't the sound of a chorus of angels. Regardless, he was quite taken by her singing, recognizing the song.

"We could go see Les Misérables at 5th Avenue, if you'd like," he said with a grin, lifting his sunglasses.

Lyra jumped. "Eep! I didn't hear you come in."

"You have a beautiful voice."

His words put a faint blush and a smile on her face. "Thanks."

Adrian set his bag down, looking around the flat, his eyes widening when he looked at her workstation, nearly every inch covered by scattered papers, photographs, textbooks. There was the faint smell of coffee wafting through the air, the source a cup of Starbucks from across the street.

"Doing some homework?" he joked, walking over, curious.

Lyra suddenly jumped up in front of him, placing her hand on his chest. "Late night, catching up on some reading." She nodded, smiling cheekily. "Research. How was last night?"

"The nightclub? Alright. Wish I had a dance partner."

"Maybe we could go together next time. With your friends."

"How was last night?" he asked.

By now he was too far away to see anything on her desk. She pushed him down into a seated position on her lounger, leaning forward so that he had a clear view of her cleavage.

"Went shopping for some food. Want anything to drink?"

He declined. "So, what's the plan?"

"Plan?" She cocked her head. "I thought we were going to go to the beach."

"For today, I mean. But for later."

"There is no plan."

"No schedule? Nothing you want to see in particular?" Adrian frowned, listing the places on his fingers, the words spilling out of his mouth as it came to him. "We could go for the Space Needle first. Or maybe Seattle Art Museum, it's right here at Capitol Hill, a-and 5th Avenue! We could reserve tickets—"

Lyra sauntered up to him, shushing him and placing her finger on his lips. "Shhh." She cocked her head, cupping his face with her hands, patting his cheek. "You look different today." She pinched his cheeks, leaning forward.

"I shaved," he mumbled.

"Your face is all shiny and smooth."

"Sunscreen," Adrian mumbled.

"Sunscreen?"

"For the sun? Sunburns, all that?"

"I guess that's what happens when you don't have a coat," Lyra said.

He stared. "Sure. It's a bit hot for a coat today."

She paused, frowning slightly, and laughed at her own "joke".

"What?"

"Oh, never mind."

"I have some, if you need it."

She tossed her hair, reaching behind her back and pulling the string of her bikini top. It fell to the floor, and she kicked it away. She covered her chest with an arm and turned.

"Mind doing my back?"


"So you're telling me you knew the entire time exactly what you were doing?"

"No!" Lyra shrieked with laughter. "I promise, I didn't! I didn't know it was such a big deal!"

"How could being naked not be such a big deal?"

"You were such a gentleman that I didn't know."

"You didn't wonder why I was acting so weird around you?" Adrian grinned.

"Stop it!"

He fell silent for a moment, but was unable to let go. "So you go home and do a Google search—"

"Adrian!"

"—and you find out about nudity."

"Oh, don't pretend you didn't like what you saw."

The words clicked in his mind and his head snapped towards her, then back to the road. Then back to her. She smirked. He arched his eyebrows.

Flirting, now?

He had no idea how to flirt. "I dunno," Adrian shot back with a grin. "I might have to get a better look next time." He looked over.

Lyra gave him an incredibly coy look, a playful smile tugging at her lips and her golden eyes half-lidded. Had he overstepped his boundaries? Did he go too far?

She socked him on the arm. "You."

"Ow." He grinned. "That hurt."

"Baby."

"You should kiss it and make it better," Adrian said.

I'm getting good at this.

Lyra leaned over and gave him a peck on his arm. "Better?"

He rolled his eyes. "Looks like we're almost there."

As the car inched forward from the stoplight, there was the loud roar of an engine and a motorcycle cut them off, shooting forward down North West 54th.

Adrian grumbled to himself, turning his head and pointing. "See the ocean?"

"I can. It's...big."

They pulled onto a narrow winding dirt path that led to a parking lot. He parked, and put his sunglasses on, squinting. Lyra copied him. She took her place by his side and he draped an arm around her shoulders, leading them to a good spot on the beach.

"So...what's a boy like you doing hanging around a girl like me?" Lyra asked.

"What kind of a question is that?" He thought a bit, not answering her for a good few feet before he spoke. "You're different."

"And...that's a good thing."

"I like different."

They stepped onto the beach, feeling a breeze whip through their hair. Lyra dug her toes into the sand, wiggling them, holding her sandals in her hand as he draped his arm around her.

"No, really."

"I mean it. Honest." He heaved a sigh when she stared at him. "I think you're special."

"You already said that."

He watched several people play beach volleyball, running and diving to return the ball over a net. Some people on beach cruisers passed them by. High noon. The sun was at its peak. The two basked in its glory, spreading some towels close to the shore. In the distance was a mountain range, serving as a backdrop for the beach. Shimmering waves of azure water crashed onto the shore, white and foamy, the wind salty.

At last, he finally answered her. "I mean you're...different from other girls."

"Oh." She stumbled slightly, regaining her balance by grabbing onto his arm. "Is it the hair?"

"No, well, sure. That."

"You don't think it's weird?"

He scoffed. "No. Why would it be?"

"Most people don't dye their hair green," Lyra mumbled.

"Most people," he said, "don't have eyes like yours."

She smirked, gazing into his, lifting her shades. "What about them?"

He smiled. "They're beautiful."

"...Thank you."

"They're like gold." He looked away. "Anyways. You're so easy to talk to. I dunno."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I say dumb, awkward stuff. Wrong thing, wrong time. You know that."

"No you don't!"

"I know. But when I do, I know that you won't give me hard time about it 'cause you don't seem to mind."

"It's 'cause I'm crazy, isn't it?" she grinned.

He frowned, and gestured with his thumb and index finger. "Maybe just a little..."

Adrian received a nice playful slap for that one.

"I never realized how hard it is to talk to a girl."

"It is hard," Adrian chuckled. "It's like walking on eggshells in the middle of a minefield."

For some reason this made her laugh.

"Especially around a girl like you."

She planted herself in front of him, hands on hips. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

"No, no, what?"

"I mean, well..." He trailed off.

"Say it."

"You're hot."

Right then and there his words seemed to have a reaction. Her stance loosened and she went from being confrontational to being coy. She crossed her arms, leaning back slightly in a standoffish position, biting her lower lip from the side in that sort of sexy way that drove him wild.

"Ohhh. So that's it."

"What?" He shrugged. "What?" He huffed. "And what's a girl like you doing hanging around a guy like me?"

"A guy like you? What?"

He looked away. "Never mind."

Lyra apologized, "I'm sorry. I'm asking too many questions."

"No, no no!" He looked ahead, scoping the beach. "I'm...not much of a talker. I don't know what to say most of the time so I keep quiet. And I listen a lot." He added, "I like listening to you."

"That's really sweet." Lyra stopped, reaching into her bag for her Coolpix. "Ooh, hold on. I'm gonna take a picture."

Adrian held up his Nikon. "I can take them for you." He crouched down and held it steady, snapping a shot of Lyra posing in front of the beach, the sun in the corner of the image and the blue ocean behind her. A second, a third, all different poses, different faces.

"But you don't get to be in the picture," she said.

He pulled her next to him, holding the camera backwards with the lenses facing down at them. They both smiled. Click. He showed her the screen. Both of their faces took up most of the image, their cheeks close.

"Now I can."

Lyra ventured forward, dipping a toe in the wet sand, shivering slightly. She yelped as the waves swept forward, submerging her ankles.

"It's cold!"

Adrian laughed. "You get used to it." He stripped off his Aloha shirt and ran in after her. "You know how to swim?"

"I think," she called, up to her knees in the freezing waters.

Lyra reached down and splashed him.

"Gah! Cold!"

She giggled. "Told you."

Adrian lunged, catching her in a bear hug from behind. "Hah!" They both lost their balance, suddenly slipping and falling. "Lyra!" He reached around in the water, pulling her up from the shallow water. "Are you okay?"

She splashed him, tossing her head, droplets of sparkling water flying through the air. "Now we're both wet," she pouted.

"Your hair looks good wet."

"EEK!" Lyra suddenly squealed and jumped into his arms. "Something wrapped around my leg!"

Adrian set her down and reached in until his hand wrapped around it. "Seaweed. See?"

A wave suddenly crashed into the both of them. Lyra squealed in delight, kicking her legs as she was suspended in the water for a moment.

"Carry me back?"

Adrian slipped his arm beneath her knees and hefted her up with a grunt. "Lyra, you're heavy!"

She gasped in horror. "You did not just say that!"

He nearly dropped her on the sand on the way back to their towels. They dried themselves off and laid back down, letting the sun warm them.

"So, where are your parents?"

"Right now? Somewhere in Paris. Vacation, you know?" He smirked. "A little celebration for finally getting my butt into college."

"They're happy about you leaving?"

"They're happy that I'm becoming independent." He rolled over onto his stomach. "My folks are good to me. Some parents would kick their kid out the second they turned eighteen."

"Huh. That's interesting."

Interesting?

"So you go to school for another four years?"

"Well, usually. Some people take longer, depending on what they wanna do. Doctors need an extra ten years, I think."

"Huh." She changed the subject. "Well I'd love to meet your parents."

When pigs fly, he thought.

"There are so many kinds of people here."

He looked around. "There are all sorts of people in the world."

"Some people have smaller eyes, bigger noses. Darker skin, lighter skin. Taller, shorter," Lyra said absentmindedly.

"Good, bad, somewhere in the middle."

"So what's the ideal?"

Adrian raised an eyebrow. Quite the strange topic for discussion.

"Ideal?"

"Attractive. Appearance-wise."

"Well," he started, "it varies from culture to culture. American society has a preference for certain things. And even then, it varies from person to person."

"Like?"

"Uh." He swallowed. "Well, for women, thin is considered attractive. For guys, broad shoulders, well built, square jaw. That sort of thing."

"What else?"

He kept his mouth shut. She nudged him.

"I can't say," he said with a wry grin.

"Why not?"

"Too embarrassing."

"C'mon, tell me," Lyra laughed.

"No!"

"Then I'll find someone else who'll tell me."

He flushed, gesturing to her bosom and then, her hips. It took her a second to catch on. She pursed her lips.

"Big?"

"Big is good. Not too big, though. And um, wide."

She pondered his words, and then asked, "Are mine big enough?"

"Your what?"

"You know," Lyra said, giving them a squeeze.

"...You're killing me, Lyra," Adrian groaned, rolling over. "There's no way I'm going to answer that."

She rolled over on top of him, pressing her chest against his back. "Tell me."

"No," he mumbled, his eyes shut.

"Tell me!"

"No!" he groaned. "I can't!"

"Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me!" She shook his shoulders.

He pushed himself up, Lyra falling backwards with a yelp. He ogled her body for a moment, with her permission.

"All right, since you really wanna know..." He took a deep breath. "No."

"What?!" Lyra exclaimed. "What's wrong with them?"

He flinched, and scrambled away, hiding behind the safety of their beach towel.

"T-There's nothing wrong. They're just not that...?"

"Pick your words carefully, mister." Her scowl deepened.

"I'm just saying you're a bit...flat?" Adrian admitted. "B-But I like flat! Really!"

She let out a scandalous gasp. "And what about my butt?"

God, kill me now.

"No, no, I'm not saying a word."

Lyra lunged and wrapped her arms around his midsection, squishing her chest against his.

He looked down. "What're you gonna do, hug me to death?" It didn't sound like a bad way to go.

"I'm not gonna let go until you say."

He leaned in suddenly and whispered, "Perfect."

His answer surprised her. "Really?"

"Yes. Absolutely perfect," he said meekly, his eyes screwed shut.

He peeked. Lyra leaned back, crossing her arms with a knowing smile. His face burned, the heat rising to his face. She leaned over and ruffled his hair, their faces close, her minty breath in his ear as she whispered in the most sultry voice,

"Wanna give it a squeeze?"

Adrian's breath hitched. Was she serious? She wasn't serious, was she? He wanted to die, right there on the spot. He gave a weak gasp and rolled away.

She squealed, content with having a good laugh at his expense. "Eeeee! Your face is red as a tomato! Look! Oh, your ears..."

He huffed and looked away. He suddenly shuddered. "Ugh."

"What?"

Adrian pointed discreetly towards another beach goer. "Yoga pants."

Lyra stared at the rotund woman. "What's wrong with her?"

"You really shouldn't wear yoga pants if you weigh more than two-hundred pounds," he snickered. "Nobody wants to see that."

He thought that Lyra would share a laugh with him. Instead, she remained silent, looking contemplative.

Great, now you sound like a jerk.

"What?"

"Do you think I should wear yoga pants?" Lyra asked him earnestly.

I hate these trick questions.

"...Yes." He kept a straight face before smiling and poking Lyra in the ribs. "So, what about me? How do I look?"

She thought for a bit, biting her lip. "You're cute."

"Cute?" He frowned, pouting, his arms crossed. "I'm not cute. I'm supposed to be handsome."

Lyra giggled, poking him in his abs. "Nope. You're cute. I don't like handsome guys anyways."

"Really?"

"They're not my type. Too gruff," she said, deepening her voice to a masculine tone, "too intimidating. Girls like sensitive, sweet boys."

He smirked. "Doesn't seem like it."

She leaned over and ruffled his hair and squeezed him. "Don't worry. There are plenty of fish in the sea," she said, spreading her arms toward the ocean.

He didn't bother correcting her.