Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Orange Star High School ❯ Noel ( Chapter 6 )

Mucho thanks have to go to Suzumi and One Winged Angel, who graciously replied to my plea earlier this week. They have been most helpful.

To answer one of the most frequently asked questions I have received (which makes me laugh with evil glee): Is Vegeta gay?

Answer: You'll see.

**looks over chapter** Gah, Vegeta and Chichi are **SUCH** pigs.

Chapter Six: Noel

How far she had fallen… she could barely look at snow now without thinking of **it**. She contemplated the muddy floor outside of apartment as she awaited the reply to her knock.

She had stopped waiting for the special dealer in the park; she couldn't wait long enough for the next hit.

Her heart raced as she heard the lock come undone. She needed that hit so badly… she could feel the shakes coming on.

She'd been experimenting with quitting; she'd been clean for almost two days up until this point, when the shakes and the fever had become too powerful to ignore, and she'd found her last hit. It wasn't enough, though. Afterwards she'd snuck out of her room (where her aunt had confined her until she was better), and headed directly over to this apartment, where Cousin Keiko had said was where she got her `supplies'.

She was slightly disappointed to see Vegeta open the door. He'd taken to giving her dirty looks in the halls and the few classes they shared. He obviously disapproved of her habit. But he didn't know how stressful it was, how much she needed the cocoa plant.

"He's not here," Vegeta said with fatigue in his voice. "I don't know where he is."

"Don't you have any here?"

He shook his head.

"Can I wait for him?"

Vegeta sighed and opened the door, allowing her in.

Chichi fought to keep her lip from curling at the shabby front room with its matted caramel brown carpet, and grungy matching brown couch. Pornography, car and sports magazines were strewn everywhere, along with empty chip bags and old pizza cartons.

"You'll probably be more comfortable in my room." He mumbled, gesturing towards a door. She nodded eagerly, noting the noxious smell coming from a corner.

Vegeta's room was by far cleaner than the rest of the apartment. The carpet was brushed up, although still that disgusting shade of brown. A ratty green felt blanket (much too light for the city's harsh winters) was neatly spread across the bed. It looked like a desperate attempt to appear normal. Why this thought occurred to her she didn't know… maybe it was because she had always seen Vegeta as `exotic'. After all, he was the only gay guy in the school; in fact he was the only gay person she knew period. That he should live in such a dull room did not hold with the images she held of him. She had imagined something dark, with lots of pictures from scary-looking bands looming on the walls, and perhaps the occasional image of a half-naked man.

The white undecorated walls mocked her preconceptions of the boy she realized in her haze of need that she hardly knew.

He looked at her with discomfort from his position in the doorway. Her eye was caught the framed photo sitting on the cheap plywood dresser. She picked up, and was surprised to see Goku in the shot with Vegeta. She had known that the two had been friends… she guessed the shot had been taken in their freshman year, back before Vegeta had hit on Radditz.

"Back when I was normal." Vegeta mumbled, when she compared the happy fifteen-year-old to the brooding eighteen-year-old. Amazing how much one can change in two years… not that she could judge. She certainly had changed from ten months ago.

She replaced the photo, and sat down on the bed. Vegeta took that as a signal to relax, and sat on the other side of the bed.

Absently she began to read the handwritten labels of the computer-burned CDs that sat on a pile beside an ancient CD player, the process got her mind off of the hot flashes she was suffering. New Found Glory, MxPx… so many she hadn't heard of.

"What time does your mom get home from work?" She asked after finishing reading the titles, and searching for something else to take her mind off her aching body.

"She's dead." He muttered, and she must have looked at him with pity, because he shrugged. "It was awhile back."

"Oh…" She turned away to study the pilling on the blanket. She could sympathize, her mother too was dead… but she had never known her, and that made the pain a little lesser in some respects, she'd never gotten attached… although she did note the absence of a `mother' figure in her youth after the death of her Grandmother.

"So how are you doing on that essay from Mr. Bartolowitz?" She asked a moment later, desperate to get the conversation going again.

"It's okay… I can't say that writing about the life-cycles of mold is a terribly exciting project however."

Chichi snorted in agreement.

"Are you sure there isn't even a little--?"

Vegeta shook his head. "The cops have been tailing him recently, he doesn't keep any in the apartment anymore incase they get a search warrant."

"Oh," She whispered again, paling severely. What if they came here and found her? How would she live down the shame of being **arrested** for drug possession? Her father would never want to speak to her again, and she'd never get into a single college if they sent her to a rehab clinic.

She didn't realize she'd begun to shake until Vegeta put an arm around her. Unfortunately, the vomiting that had seemingly abated when she left the house suddenly returned, leaving a putrid acidic puddle in the middle of Vegeta's lap.

"M'sorry." She mumbled, embarrassed.

"It's okay, I'm used to it." Vegeta sighed. "You're not going to vomit again do you think?" She shook her head mutely.

He stood and went over to the dresser and pulled out a fresh pair of pants. She blushed as he yanked down the pair he was wearing and bent over to pull on the clean ones. She unwillingly noticed the nice ass he had, thanks to the clingy white briefs. Why couldn't he have just worn boxers?

He sat back down on the bed, seemingly unaware of the effect that he'd just had on her. It was such a shame he was gay, she thought, before scolding herself. She already had a boyfriend, it wasn't right to think about another guy, especially one he hated, like that.

Still, it was a shame.

There was a knock at the door, and Vegeta stood, leaving her alone in his room. She was tempted to go and join him, but the look he had sent her before he shut the door to his room indicated that he didn't want her following him.

The voices of two jovial men came through the thin walls, neither of which she recognized. After a few moments she got unsteadily to her feet and went to the door, she didn't want to be alone, and these men might have something in which she could buy…

Opening the door she found two tall men surrounding a slouched Vegeta. One was well built with a pretty face and long hair and the other fat to the point of obesity and a horrendous case of acne.

"Fuck anyone recently, fagboy?" The fat one chortled, sounding very much like a pig. He even snorted.

The handsome one looked back, he must have heard Vegeta's door creak open, and leered at her.

"You're wrong, Dodoria." He said, smirking at her. "Look at the little cunt that just stumbled out of his room." He turned to sneer at Vegeta, who was glaring at her.

She flushed at being addressed as a `cunt'; no one had ever called her that!

"Did we interrupt you?" The fat one said with nasty insinuation.

"A nice piece like that is wasted on him." The tall one snorted, looking at her with lust in his eyes.

He came towards her, and she realized how weak her legs were, and how there was no probability that she could get away from the man if he forced his intentions.

"Leave her alone, Zarbon." Vegeta snapped from his position in the corner where Dodoria trapped him.

"What are you going to do, bitch?" Zarbon drawled.

"Frieza'll be pissed. You know you're not supposed to fuck with paying customers." Vegeta glared at Zarbon.

"It's bad for business." A new voice said, as he entered the room.

He was a short man, pale, with a shiny shaved head. He wore a dark purple leather jacket and a pair of sunglasses with red lenses. Vegeta and the two men cowered as he glared at them.

"What have I told you, Zarbon?" Frieza sighed with exasperation, like he was explaining something for the millionth time to a particularly stupid kindergartner. "You don't get to play with them until they're high. That way they don't remember."

"Yes, sir." Zarbon said, ducking his head.

Frieza then turned to her, and she shuddered under the force of his bland look. His eyes were so cold; she could see why Vegeta and the others were so afraid of him. He wasn't even looking at her with then menace he had been the others.

"You want a hit?" He sighed with boredom. She nodded frantically in response.

He reached into his inside coat pocket and pulled out a packet bursting with enough to keep her going for at least a week. She immediately snatched for it, only to have him hold it out of her grasp.

"Money first." He said flatly, holding out an expectant hand.

She dug in her pants pockets and practically threw a wad of twenties at him. He chuckled as he counted the money out, while she anxiously bounced from foot to foot.

"One more thing." He asked, and she felt in that moment she would have done anything he asked for that little plastic baggie of salvation.

"Did you fuck him?" He jerked his head at Vegeta, who was crouching into the corner now.

"No." she said, too bothered to lie.

"Ah… pity. I'd hoped." He tossed the coke at her, and she caught it with shaky hands. "Now get out of here."

***(-I-)**(-I-)***

"Perfect! Now hold it!"

She was posed uncomfortably bending over the open hood of large truck, looking over her shoulder. The platform sneakers she was wearing really weren't great for gripping the chrome bumper she was standing on. She felt as if she'd slip right off and break her ass if she had to stand there a second more.

Several flashes of light went off before the photographer told her to get down and get changed. She did so gladly, hopping down and heading over to the small closet that passed for a dressing room. Checking the list, she pulled down the corresponding dress.

It was the middle of winter, and they were already shooting summer fashions, it was kind of mind boggling. At least they had better heating than they did air conditioning. Wearing down jackets in eighty-five degree weather had **not** been her idea of a good time.

The skimpy sundress was made of a light cream material with peaches painted onto it. It was not that good looking of a dress, but it was only a publicity shot, this dress would never get out into stores… that she was glad of.

She stepped into the beige high-heeled sandals, and prayed that she wouldn't be climbing on anything.

As she re-entered the shoot room, she was surprised to see Yamucha standing in the corner. He wore that silly Santa Claus hat that one of his friends had given him on Friday as an early birthday present. Seeing the photographer still tinkering with the lights, she headed over towards Yamucha.

"How'd you get in here?" She asked. "They normally don't allow anyone in here."

"I told them I was your brother." He said with a impish grin. She playfully swatted her arm.

"I'll bet they believed that." She said with heavy irony and a roll of her eyes.

"They let me in, didn't they?" He asked, putting a hand on her hip. She immediately pushed it off.

"No touching, this dress is worth more than your life, and I don't know where your hands have been."

"I know where they'd like to be…" Yamucha leered at her, motioning to her breasts. She smacked him again.

"After the shoot." She said, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she saw the photographer glare at her impatiently. She returned to the truck, dreading what contortion she'd have to hold this time…

***(-I-)**(-I-)***

He would swear in all the courts of law in the known universe that he'd just seen an angel. He felt the urge to call heaven to make sure there hadn't been an escape.

Her hips swung as she walked about the store, fixing displays and refolding clothes. He was ashamed to admit that he was following her, hiding behind racks of clothes. So far he'd followed her around the store at least three times.

Her corn silk blonde hair swayed attractively in its shoulder-length bob. His fingers ached to run through it. Her cyan-blue eyes glimmered in the harsh fluorescent light of the store.

"Juuhachi!" A chunky girl at the register of the store shouted, holding a phone on one shoulder. "Can you cover me for a few minutes, I've got a crisis going on a home,"

"Yeah," Juuhachi replied.

Juuhachi, now his saint had a name.

The other girl ran off, and Juuhachi took her place at the cash register. Working up his nerve he picked up a knit cap (that would set him back an astounding eighteen dollars), and made his way towards the front. He was the only one in line; in fact, he was the only customer in the store, which bolstered his confidence. There would be only one witness if he made an idiot of himself.

"Hi." He said, setting the hat down on the counter.

"Will that be all?" She asked, her voice reminding him of the sound of a clarinet, sweet and low.

"Yeah." He felt himself blush at the stupid monosyllabic answers he was giving.

She rang up the hat, and put it into a small plastic sack.

"Would you like to join the Verbatim Shoppers club? Join today and get ten percent off your next purchase."

"Nah." He sounded like an idiot.

"The total comes to eighteen dollars."

Wordlessly, to save himself more embarrassment, he handed over the money, and took the bag.

"Have a good day!" She called after him.

"You too, Juuhachi." He whispered as he exited the store.

***(-I-)**(-I-)***

He waited impatiently for Bulma to finish up her shoot. He had reason, he thought, today was his birthday, and he wanted to know what Bulma had gotten him. She'd hinted for the last two weeks about what it was, and it was nearly driving him up the wall with curiosity.

His mother had gotten him clothes (as usual), Yolanda had given him some homemade play goop (he wondered if she hadn't just found it growing in the back of her messy closet… it smelled like it), Krillen gave him the cap he was currently wearing, and the only person left was Bulma.

He wished his father had bothered to send something. Well, something other than the postcard informing him that `your teeth are late for their very important date'. Doctor Yemen Marko was a very busy dentist. He was so busy between his patients at the uptown clinic and pleasing his nymphomaniac girlfriend and assistant that he had absolutely no time to even call up his oldest son and wish him a happy eighteenth.

Yamucha's temporary bad mood was alleviated when Bulma came towards him again, dressed in **her** casual clothes.

"So what did you get me?" He asked impatiently as soon as they were out the studio.

"I'll give it to you in the car." She teased, smiling at him.

Smirking, he dropped behind her, before scooping her up in her arms. She shrieked with laughter as he carried her out to his beat up truck parked on the sidewalk. He set her down carefully on the icy cement. He opened the door, and ushered her inside, before running around to the driver's side and hopping in.

"Now can I have it?" He asked eagerly.

She laughed and started to dig through her large purse. At the rate she was going, and the size of that purse, it might be ages before she found it.

She pulled out enveloped card and handed it to him. He opened it immediately, and instead of finding a card, he found two tickets.

"You got tickets for a New Found Glory?" He said with awe. "They've been sold out for months."

"I'm rich," She shrugged. "I've got connections."

"You sound like you're a mafia princess." He snorted.

"Maybe I am."

"I'd better be good then." He smirked, before leaning over to kiss her. Her lips pressed harder into his, and his tongue quested into her mouth, where hers gladly met it with enthusiasm. He could feel her breast pressing against his chest, and his hands slid to her sides.

She pulled away from all of the sudden, leaving him disappointed and wanting. He pouted at her, causing her to smirk.

"Not here, and anyways, I don't want to give you your second birthday present early, it'd ruin the surprise."

He chuckled as he put the keys into the ignition and started the ancient vehicle up.