Chapter Text
“Thought I told you not to ruffle my feathers, Runner,” Cluster called.
You turned your head. In the distance, Cluster slammed the door of a black limousine, running a hand through the short golden feathers on the top of his head. His shades glinted in the sunlight, a deep frown imprinted on his face.
Great.
You set down the box you were holding with a heavy sigh. You were wondering when your boss-slash-captor would show up. Today, in the blistering heat, Cluster had you digging through trash in the Sinister Strip. In his initial call, he mentioned there may be ‘loose loot’ hiding amongst rival gangs’ garbage. You weren’t so sure.
The kingpin’s dress shoes clattered on the pavement as he reached your side. “So, you gonna explain yourself?” he asked in a low voice.
Your body tensed. Cluster didn’t get angry, that just wasn’t him - but you could feel his tangible horrible vibe. You busied yourself with the box on the ground to avoid eye contact. “What do you mean?”
“I told you not to duck my calls,” he sang venomously, kicking the box you were rummaging through with enough force to tip it. Its contents flew out, clattering on the ground.
You swallowed. “You didn’t call me—”
“Ha ha,” the duck interrupted, “for a second there, I thought you were gonna tell me that I didn’t call you.” He leaned in real close to you, cologne dusting your nose, face darkening, and said: “You’d be real stupid to try and tell me what I did or didn’t do. You forgetting I own you?”
His face was just inches from yours. Although you couldn’t see past his dark shades, you could feel his piercing gaze. The truth was, Cluster wasn’t exaggerating - he did own you, just as he owned all of his other runners. Having lived a life of poverty on Fortnite island, you inevitably found yourself slipping into a life of crime over the years. But your ventures had been independent and, in your opinion, rather petty. However, when Cluster first got a hold of you and offered you ‘work,’ any chance of you leading an honest or normal life vanished. No longer were you an unfortunate girl just trying to get by - now, you were a runner for Fortnite island’s most successful organized crime syndicate - or, as he puts it, ‘businessman.’
Finally, you said meekly, “I’m sorry. What did you want to tell me in the call?”
Cluster took a step back, his demeanor instantly softening. “Ah, I was just going to tell you to leave. Turns out, any loose Sprite Dust is long gone.”
“What?” you exclaimed. “Who could’ve gotten here before us?”
“Your guess is as good as mine, Runner.” Cluster turned around and began walking away, beckoning you to follow with a single finger.
He’s not taking me somewhere to kill me, right? Reluctantly, you followed him back towards the car.
Cluster was interesting because, despite all of his power and mystique as a crimelord, he was kind of just an awkward and otherwise semi-regular dude. Of course, given his occupation, he was fucking insane (and oftentimes intimidating), but he wasn’t anything like you expected him to be. When you first met him in person, you were expecting to see some big, burly man who never smiled. Instead… Cluster was, well, himself. Just a cute duck with a big ego and a frustratingly amazing taste in fashion and cars. Perhaps in another life, Cluster’s just a normal guy who doesn’t deal weapons or Sprites or ‘own people.’
You caught yourself thinking very hard about all of this during your brief walk to the limo.
Cluster opened the back door. “You first,” he said, a grin creeping onto his face.
You sighed and slid in. “So, where to, then?” you asked, hoping he couldn’t hear the fear in your voice.
He plopped himself down on the sleek leather seat and crossed one ankle over the other knee. “Back to my place.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I got nothing for you today, Runner. That dust hunt was it. I’m a little broken-hearted that it’s all gone, though. Was really hoping we’d have a good time with that.”
You blinked. “A good time… selling it?”
Cluster threw his head back and laughed. “No, honey, snorting it. Sprite Dust is valuable, sure, but–” he removed his shades and turned to you, revealing his unfocused, pink eyes, “–it also gets you high as hell.” He chuckled at your horrified face.
You awkwardly nodded and tried to smile, but Jesus. Cluster was getting suspiciously friendly with you. And his rapid mood swings didn’t exactly make you feel comfortable to be in the back of his car. What were you even doing within fifty feet of him, anyway? He was your boss, your capo - not a single other runner had come anywhere close to him, let alone seen his face (especially not without his glasses). So why were you in his personal car being driven to his lavish mansion? And for what purpose? And did he really intend to do hard drugs with you? Was that what he was implying with that last statement? You shivered and turned to stare out the window. Truly, this was perplexing.
“C’mon, Runner, don’t be freaked,” he purred, sliding his glasses back on. “I just wanna spend some time with my favorite employee.”
“Oh God,” you accidentally said aloud. You massaged your nose and squeezed your eyes shut. “How much of that shit did you take?”
“Whaaaaat, I can’t have favorites? Can’t wanna–” he walked his fingers across the middle seat and up your thigh, “–be more than just… uh, colleagues?” His poor attempt at flirting was exacerbated by his inability to find the correct word, and it made you cringe violently. What the fuck was going on?
“Alright, for both of our sakes, I’m going to go ahead and assume that you’re high out of your mind and not thinking straight. Just drop me off and I’ll walk home a-and we can just forget any of this happened,” you said quickly, shakily unbuckling your seatbelt.
Cluster lightly grabbed your wrist. “Hey,” he spoke, sobering up a touch. “I’m sorry for… yelling at you back there. At the Strip. I’m way too high. I lost my temper. Sorry if that… scared you.”
You stared into his black shades, his apology disarming you. “Oh, well… It’s okay. I shouldn’t talk back to you. Your jobs are the only thing keeping me off the streets. And uh, heh, you could definitely have me killed at any point, so giving you attitude was not very wise of me.” You flashed an awkward smile.
“I would never hurt you,” he said quietly.
“Oh… That’s good to hear, I guess.”
“The truth is, I like you, Runner. Maybe I’m lonely, maybe I need a friend. But I like you. You’re a quick little fish. You always do exactly what you’re told, and the best part is, you always do it right.” He was pantomiming as he spoke, clearly still jumpy from the drugs. “After you ignored my call, I could’ve done what I do to everyone else and either, well, sent a few men to relay the message or - if they’re already on thin ice - cut them off. But, y’know, it was so unlike you to not answer me. I had to come see for myself. I guess you could even say I was a little worried about you.” He playfully stroked your cheek with the back of his pointer finger. “Don’t you feel the connection between us, Runner?”
“If you were so taken by me, you’d think you’d call me by my actual name,” you joked, swatting his hand away. He laughed, and you laughed back. It felt good, natural, and for a second it felt like you two were living in that alternate reality you were dreaming of just a few minutes ago, the one where you and Cluster are just normal people.
Cluster leaned back in his seat. “Ah, I have too many minions to memorize all of their names. Besides, if I give you a name, I might get attached.”
“Wouldn’t want that to happen.”
“Not at all.” He drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Ah, I’m startin’ to come down.” He turned his head back towards you. “Well, we’re almost there. Almost time for your next job,” he hummed.
You furrowed your eyebrows. “But… didn’t you just say that you didn’t have any other jobs for me?”
Cluster chuckled. “Let’s just say I got a bright idea on our way here.”