Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Contraband ❯ Vegeta Christian Andrews, V ( Chapter 1 )

Contraband by Stacey Meyer

Don't wanna live the normal life Got contraband in my eyes Alcohol and cigarettes Good white drugs I ain't done yet I like to fuck I like to fight Starting shit just feels right In the end we all just die So along the way why not get high? Contraband, God I love you Contraband, I need you so Contraband, I wanna hold ya. Contraband, lets fuckin' go Contraband, gonna take you to the show - The Mad Caddies, "Contraband"

Disclaimer - I do not own DBZ and I don't own any of the songs in this story. I actually got the title from a song by the band called the Mad Caddies. If you've never heard of them and you like punk/ska, then I highly suggest them!

I must warn all who read that this isn't your typical Vegeta and Goku are Saiya-jins story. Everyone is human and they all live on Earth. I'm not quite sure what I'm going to do with Piccolo though, because he's still going to be green. I've also given each character a full name, and those with weird names I've given different names, but they keep the weird ones as their nicknames. For example, Chi-Chi's full name is Charlotte Christina Mau, and Chi-Chi is just her nickname. I hope none of you get confused, and if you do, I'll try and explain it in detail to those who are.

*Warning* - This story is rated `R', therefore it contains situations not suited for those under the age of 17, so if you read this and are underage and get offended, don't say I didn't warn you! This story is rated `R' for adult language, sexual content, and anything else I plan on putting in here, which might include drug use, I'm not quite sure.

Chapter One - Vegeta Christian Andrews, VI

Vegeta Christian Andrews, VI

Nickname(s) - Veggie, Veggie-chan, Geta, Veg-head, Prince

Age : 18

Height : 5'10"

Hair Color : Black with Red Streaks

Eye Color : Black

Year in School : 12

"Five-hundred ninety-seven, five-hundred ninety-eight, five-hund ..." A pounding interrupted the eighteen year old from his daily routine workout, and the young man glared at the door. He groaned and jumped to his feet, anxious to ward off whomever dared to disturb his schedule, with a turn of the knob, he recognized the intruder with a scowl. "What is it, father?" The older man sighed, only wishing things could be different between himself and his only child.

"I'm going away on business, so you have the house to yourself. I don't want you throwing any parties, you understand? Last time I left you here alone my house looked as if a tornado had barreled through it." The teen rolled his eyes at the older man's analogy.

"Whatever," was his sarcastic reply. He was quite eager to get back to his push-ups so his routine wouldn't be too thrown off.

"Vegeta," his father called harshly, "I'm serious. If you have any parties while I'm gone, it'll be your ass." He sighed again, and spoke in a softer voice. "I'll be back in a few weeks, do try to stay alive."

"I can't promise anything, old man, but I'll try. Now leave me, you've interrupted my training long enough."

"Very well, good-bye Vegeta." Vegeta grunted his good-bye and continued his push-ups even before his father had closed the door.

Five-hundred and one more push-ups later, a sweaty Vegeta emerged from his gym and was on the hunt for a gallon of water. After obtaining the plastic jug and emptying it of its contents, he grabbed two boxes of Cookie Crisps, a bowl, a spoon, and a gallon of 2% milk, sat down at the kitchen table and devoured both boxes of the delicious cereal within minutes.

The 5 foot 10 inch soul heir of Andrews and Company stood and stretched out his sore muscles, popping a few joints in the process. He ran a hand through his dark black mane that was laced with barely visible dark red streaks, a color acquired not too long ago. It wasn't easy being the son of one of the richest men on the planet, and his only out was his music and his friends.

Vegeta climbed the stairs at a grueling pace, finally reaching the top. Walking into the studio he had created out of his spare room, he picked up his brand new Ibanez electric guitar from its stand and sat down on the plush black leather couch to play a song called Shaving Your Life by the Mad Caddies. He sang along with the beat, in which he knew by heart.

Early come one winters morning I packed my bags and said goodbye I knew my mind was made up, And then she cried and asked me why I had to run I heard the world calling my name Had to find a better place Had to take a chance and get away Wake up to a different point of view Look to my better half But I don't see you 5000 miles away I left a life of ignorance I did not understand But to me it makes more sense Our lives go on While we procrastinate Feeling okay Watching as the blue skies turn to gray Got nothing to say

Vegeta got up after he was half-way done with the song and placed his guitar back in the stand. The now relaxed Vegeta glanced at the clock and groaned. It was half past seven, and he only had twenty minutes to hop in the shower and get to school. "Son of a bitch!" He ran up the stairs, skipping quite a few, and practically flew to his bathroom to take a very quick shower.

After a five minute shower and dressing, he raced downstairs to the garage, opening it, and jumped into his metallic red 2003 Alfa Romeo 8C and sped off to school in hopes of not being too late.