Juliet Must Survive | 𝒂𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒚𝒂𝒉.

Chapter 2

It was probably one of the hottest days in July in downtown Los Angeles. Inside a small studio dance room were twelve adults dressed in white karate kimonos with the matching white pants already starting to sweat from the lack of air conditioning. The opened windows only provided more heat as the sunlight invaded the room without any gust of wind to cool down. The karate students all lined the studio's mirrored wall, sprawled in different positions on the hot carpeted floor. Some fanned themselves with their hands or makeshift fans made out of magazines, others reached for their already lukewarm water bottles. Their growing frustration seemed to make the room even more heated.

A middle-aged East Asian man then walked in to join the class and quickly became confused by the sight he saw. Expecting to see a group of fighters deeply focused in their practice, he instead stumbled upon a bunch of sweaty amateurs. The stench was enough to knock an elephant out.

As he went to sit at the end of the line, all of the students looked up at him. They'd never seen him before, so they knew this was his first time and it'll probably be his last.

Settling down next to an elderly African-American man, the new student was itching to know what was happening with this class.

"Where is the instructor?" He asked his neighbor, already starting to feel overheated.

"Every time," he answered as he fanned himself with a rather racy magazine, "he does this every time."

"I swear I'm this close to drop-kicking his ass," an elderly Caucasian woman said as she wiped her damp forehead.

A younger Hispanic man nodded, fanning his body with his kimono. "Last I checked, I didn't sign up for a sauna session every Saturday."

"At least you don't have a menopause," another adult woman complained. "Men are so soft these days, where's your backbone?"

"I must've left it along with your dentures, gringo."

This lead to a bickering match between the two and soon the whole class was caught up in a series of fiery exchanges between each other. While everyone were busy throwing all and any kind of insults at each other, the new student took this time to study his surroundings. He carefully studied the studio; battered posters of popular music artists like Michael Jackson and The Beach Boys sparsely decorated the washed-out red walls, the large rectangular windows with small scratches on them remained wide open and a lone boombox was propped up on a wooden stool in the corner of the studio.

"You're awfully quiet, Ch'u," his African-American neighbor said in a low voice. "I hope they're not giving you too much trouble now."

"Wha- My name is Lee," he answered, caught off guard by his comment. "Who-"

"Oh, you wanna keep it on the down low?" The elder looked suspiciously from side to side. "I got you, brother. You can call me Otis then, you know, like the singer? I swear, that man's got magical pipes, I tell you."

Lee also looked around, but more awkwardly. "I don't know who that is, but I guess-"

"But there's no time for that, Ch'u," his neighbor cut him off, then gave him a wink. "Oh sorry, I mean Lee. Is that short for Bruce Lee? I love that guy, his karate is tight."

"He does kung fu," Lee corrected him, "not karate."

Otis waved him off in dismissal. "Yeah, same difference, my man. You know I'm always on your side, but these new guys, I don't know if they mean good business, you know?"

"New guys?" His neighbor's snapped back to his attention.

"Yeah, the ones replacing Isaak, you know? Hey, you got some news on the guy? Haven't heard much since they tried to pop him, you know."

"What do you know about the new guys?"

"Woah now, I didn't think we would be discussing about all that, brother. I'm only waiting on Mac, you know? He's been real silent, lately..."

At this point of their conversation, Lee was overflowing with questions that needed immediate answers. Otis (or whatever his real name was) seemed like the perfect source material, even if he thought he was someone else entirely. Yet this way, Lee could use this accidental anonymity for his own protection and as a cover in order to explore the more dangerous parts of his investigation. The only thing that bothered him was the fact that he was unable to reach his former partner.

"You need to take me to them," Lee told Otis before he could continue to blabber on about the greatest hits of his namesake.

"Well, I don't know about all that, brother," Otis scratched his glistening bald head. "Wouldn't you rather have your own men do that for you?"

"I asked you specifically," Lee tried to appear as threatening as this supposed Ch'u character seemed to be. "Take me to the new guys."

"Right now, though? 'Cause I've been needing these classes, you know how many brothers out here can fight real good?"

"I'll give you a weapon, then."

"Nah man, with all due respect. I've seen what these brothers are capable of, ain't no gun defeating any of them."

"That's not important, are you taking me or not?"

"Depends... Could we swing by Burger King after?"

Lee sighed. This man was going to be the death of him.

"Fine," he stubbornly answered.

Otis' face lit up with satisfaction. "That's what I'm talking about! Guess I'll have to come back next Satur-"

"Ay! Wassup everybody!" A familiar cherry voice interrupted him.

The whole class turned abruptly towards the studio's entrance, glowering at the arrival of their ever-so-punctual sensei. To everyone, he was the sleezy ex-cop that still lived alone with a penchant for wearing gold chains and rings with his karate kimono, calling himself an 'iced-out Black Bruce Lee'. But to his best friend Lee, he was the same, loud, eccentric and goofy agent he had done some of his best work with over all these years.

"Carter!" Lee rushed towards his old companion, entrapping him in a suffocating embrace.

"Lee?" Carter almost fell from the impact. "What are you doing here, man?"

"It's for business, brother," Otis materialized right next to the pair, sweat beads rolling down his shiny forehead.

Carter gave him a confused look as Lee unclutched him. "Sammy, whatchu talking about?"

"It's Otis, man!" Sammy elbowed him.

"There's been an explosion, Carter," Lee informed him. "I think it might be the Triad."

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