Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Blue Eyed Angel ❯ In the Alley ( Chapter 2 )

Chapter: 2

Quatre ran home as fast as he could, running away from the man who paid him for his dignity. This afternoon his legs hurt from the weary they grew at school but he felt he could run a mile to get away from the station. He slammed the door behind him and stood in the living room. He was appalled. He had to live with what he did. But it was for a cause, his sisters need water and it was a one-time thing. `There is no reason to be ashamed.'

He found Rue had come out of her room. She was helping Pearl learn how to play patty-cake. They were both startled when he burst into the house, breathless. "Where were you?" Rue asked immediately

`None of your business!' Quatre wanted to shot, a flush of anger and frustration swept him but he did not respond. Instead he paused and asked. "I was getting a loan… I need an envelope," he sounded so meek and quiet when he spoke that his words were nothing but breaths. "The post office closes at nine and I have until then to find an envelope, pay the water bill. They could cut off our water, so it's very important."

Rue strutted in a sassy way to the junk drawer in the kitchen and fished out a package of envelopes. She tossed them on the table with a fling of her tiny wrist and turned to the tin basket refrigerator magnet and found the right bill. Quatre found it strange that his little sister knew just as much about the bills as he did. She knew about the already paid pile and the seals of the different company's they get their bills from. She even had a tendency to remind him when certain bills were due and his response was always "I know" even if he didn't because he didn't want his kid sister to know that she could take care of the house just as well he could. She couldn't because she couldn't get a job any better than he could.

He jumps on it like a bomb ready to blow and yanked out an envelope that looked like it was crumbled by some one who found no use for it and threw it back. He took a pen from the cup on the bar so fast the entire cup tipped over and littered the floor with utensils.

Both his little sisters watched with concern as he scribbled the information as fast as he could, then gave up and said he would write the rest of the address at the post office. He was running out of time.

He pulled out his money and started counting what he needed. Rue's eyes widened at the load. "Are we that much dept?" she asked.

"N-no… I got it at Cash-and-Go. They don't ask for money back." As he counted he found a horrible lie leaking from his fingers onto the table. The man at the station had ripped him off.

All that lay in his hands were twenty-dollars made out of one-dollar bills. It looked and felt like a lot of money. Quatre was none the wiser. "No," he gasped then collapsed on the table his head in his arms. "NO!" He cried out loudly, he felt so degraded. He was taken advantage of.

"Quatre?" Rue asked gently for his scream had startled her. "Are you okay, Quatre?"

It took him a few seconds to recuperate. He responded from the depths of his arms in muffled disappointment. "We're going to have to go without water for a while," he admitted. "I don't know how long it'll be before I can pay for it. We'll have to go to the seven-eleven down the street for the bathroom." Now he thanked god his youngest sister still used diapers and wouldn't need to make the trip to the store. He wasn't sure if he or Rue could provided the company if she needed it.

Rue was absolutely outraged. "But what about showers! How will we take baths?" It didn't occur to her that it was strange her brother had got a loan and didn't know how much money he took till he got home.

Quatre began to pick his own mind. He was responsible for them. If he were doing his job right they would be presentable for school. He needed a way around the bath problem. "Well, I read somewhere that if you sprinkle baby-powder over your head it'll absorb the oils in your hair. And it smells nice. All you have to do is just shake it out and it'll look like you had a bath. Actually it kind of works like one." He was relieved that coming across the baby-powder article in an old magazine waiting for the dentist had come in handy after all.

"Does that really work?"

"It better, I never tried it but now I guess we don't have much of a choice."

Rue wasn't convinced that it would help. "What about our bodies?"

"Use body spray."

"I'll still feel gross!" She wasn't blaming him anymore. She just seemed worried. It was discouraging to think about her classmates finding out she couldn't take a bath. "And what about drinking. Water's all we drink now because you said it save us a money to buy drinks." There was a hint of blame in her tone.

Quatre sighed and thought. There had to be some way. He had to be conservative. "Okay. Um… uh… We have a week till they get rid of our water so we'll prepare. I'll go buy one of those huge steel tubs they put flowers in and I'll fill it with water and we can get by with sponge-baths for awhile-"

"NO QUATRE!" Rue stomped her foot. "Why don't you go back to that place and get more money?"

"BECAUSE I CAN'T!" Quatre snapped back in a voice that just as harsh but in much more of a panic! "I can't! I just can't! Okay?"

Rue, who was shocked by his outburst, nodded gently. "Okay" she whispered and took Pearl up to their nursery bedroom. Pearl screamed for `bubba' but neither of her older siblings responded.

If it was possible Quatre felt worse about yelling at Rue and scaring Pearl than he ever could about his horrible session with the man in the train station. He leaned back in his chair and messaged his temples slowly with two fingers of the same hand. Pearl screamed like mad but not even the echoes seemed to burn into his hearing.

"Rue, wait," he finally sprung back into his seat and stopped her just as she reached the top of the stairs. She turned to him slowly and unsurely. Pearl's crying subsided to whimpers. "Do you want to go to McDonalds tonight? My treat."

Rue was overjoyed. She never missed an opportunity to play in the plastic jungle gym. She and Pearl loved it and it stayed open late and was so close they could walk to it. Pearl's tears magically turned to laughter. Quatre grinned at her. `You little faker' he thought.

***

Quatre's horrible act followed him into his sleep. He didn't take advantage of the water like Pearl and Rue did. He went to bed without bathing. `If I'm going to live like white trash I might as well smell like it' he felt his mind telling him.

`You were better then I thought' shut up… `Have fun, bitch' A bitch? He was most certainly not! But if he wasn't couldn't he have found a better way to get the money? Like an attempt that would be successful?

Quatre didn't sleep well. The sight of the man's penis continued to haunt his memory. He could still feel its hardness in his mouth and the way it jerked when he touched it. He remembered how pleased the man was and how he moaned so lustfully. He could remember how the sac fit perfectly in the flaps of the jeans.
He got out of bed the next morning feeling just as awake as he was in bed. He patted to his bathroom with an intense feeling throbbing in his shorts. He could not urinate. His night dreaming of the man in the train station had got him hard.
He sulked to his closet and pulled on his favorite shirt, polyester button up with long sleeves. It felt so silky and soft he enjoyed wearing it and he felt he looked nice. To match he pulled on a pair of khaki jeans and some old white tennis shoes. It felt so much better to dress the way he pleased. As simple as it was it pleased him.

He slumped through school miserably, it was Friday and the only thing he had to look forward to was sleeping in that weekend.

On their way home they purposely passed their stop to go to the flower shop and got the biggest tin tub they could find. He felt better now because he had done something right. He was responsible and conservative and the right person to take care of his sisters. The judge will see. She'll agree. But he wouldn't have to if he could afford the necessities.

He sighed miserable watching the waterfall fill the lake that would be their supply. The water hit the tin in a musical symphony of failure. The drops cracked against the bottom as if it were laughing at him. Pearl sat next to him feeling the water as it fell. "Bubba? Bubba?" she wasn't even talking to him she was just saying it to the water. "Bubba? Bu-" suddenly she stuck her hand in to far and was splashed. She began stomping her feet quickly in a little dance and screamed when she laughed. Quatre smiled timidly.

He needed to get out. He felt closed in for some reason. "Do you want to go play with sissy?" he asked

"Sissy?" she repeated, continuing to splash her little, pink, cotton booties in the puddles.

"Bubba has to get out for a little while," he took her in his arms. "Do you want to play with sissy while I'm gone?"

"Sissy? Yes," she didn't understand what she was saying but used to few words she could.

"You do?"

"No!"

"Yes you do." Rue was in the kitchen filling bottle after bottle of tap water and storing them in the fridge. "Hey Rue. I'm going to go out for a little bit. Could you watch Pearl?" Of course she would. She loves responsibility. She loves to be in charge of something.

"Are you going to go back to that one place and get more money?" She asked hopefully. "Because if you did we might not have to go without water." She could stand the thought of replacing a bath with baby powder and sponges.

"I might as well," he shrugged. He could beg for a job. "I'll be back in a little bit."
He took the bus and rode it to anywhere. He was enjoying the tranquility of the ride. The sun warmed his window and the sight of the "good" side of town with the "good" neighborhoods pleased him. Their houses were all different colors from pink to yellow, to green, to red to blue. The grass was dark green the park was clean and children were play. The pond was gross and covered in moss but the children didn't care how dirty it got the ducks they still chased them. It was a simple thing but Quatre enjoyed it. Simple things pleased him.

He came to the cannel. The houses here were big, beautiful and rich looking. They lined the cannel so that their backyards were nothing but docks. The water was blue and clear and beautiful. The houses here did not have grass in their front yards. Well some of them did but not many. They had pebbles making designs in their yards. Red lava ones, the ones, chalky white ones, polished black ones, and some with an assortment covered the yards. Some had bark covering their yards. One house had gray dirt covering it front yard. Plants grew in the yards and were surrounded by pebbles in orderly decoration. If he could live anywhere else it would be on the cannel in one of those rich beautiful house in a loan made of pretty pebbles.

But he rode the bus to far. He ended up in the "Bad" side of town. The houses here were once beautiful but now they were ruined and tattered and old. Somewhere never beautiful but were old and ugly now. The children weren't playing in the street or in the yards like they were back on the other side of town. He saw a gang of boys that looked a little younger than he did but tougher. The way they dressed and starred the bus made Quatre uncomfortable.

They came to a different seven-eleven. One that was broken like the houses and had boards for windows instead of glass. There was people smoking and standing and talking and they looked tough and mean. Quatre would have left it there if it weren't for the women he noticed. There were prostitutes here. There was business here.

He shouldn't judge them He was there before. Just yesterday in fact. He started thinking about the money he had earned and what he did with it. Lately the only meals he and his sisters would get were the forty-cent school lunches, other then that they would have to wait without breakfast or dinner till noon the next day at school. On weekends they would scrape what they could to get a single meal a day. Sometimes they had enough to get two meals for each of them but they wouldn't risk it. They had to be conservative and save.

But when he received twenty dollars he had enough to get them dinner and not only more school lunches but also breakfasts for the next week. He remembered going to the seven-eleven and buying water and water bottles. When was the last time he could afford to buy something? The last time he could buy anything with his allowance was a week before his parents died, almost a month ago.

It was like when he saw the man at the train station. He could feel himself think if he was thinking. But he wasn't. He climbed out of the bus and dragged his feet to the seven-eleven. He slumped there against the wall and waited. `It's okay,' he told himself. `It's okay. This is the last time.'

People were staring at him. He sensed them. They were judging him. They had no right to judge. He wanted to tell them his sisters were at home preparing to go without water or plumbing. No one had the right to judge him here. He had a purpose and it was okay. It was okay for him but not for them because they had no purpose.

No one came to him. He wasn't advertising anything. But he wasn't getting the same luck he did last time. There were two boys there. They were about his age except a bit older and uglier and they watched him from across the street. They whispered to each other and pointing at him.

"Are you sure?" The brown haired one with a goatee asked the red haired one with a scare.

"Yeah," the red haired looked offended when his friend doubted him. "And if he isn't we'll convince him. Look, it's your first time and he looks harmless enough." He gestured to Quatre.

"I don't think he's gay."

"It doesn't matter. Don't you like him? You said he was cute from across the street."

"Yeah, but what if he wont do it?"

"He'll do it," the red haired one growled. "He'll do it. Whether he likes it or not he'll do it. Now come on."

They approached Quatre with a sinister, malevolent stare like they were more for picking a fight than asking a question. Quatre watched them come and his legs felt wobbly again. They surrounded him, looking cool and dangerous. "Can we ask you something?" The red haired one growled. He looked twice as mean as the brown haired one who for some reason had a shy aura around him.

"Y-yeah…" Quatre's eyes darted from the two boys, hoping they couldn't tell how scared he was.

"In private?" the red haired one gestured to the alley that was beyond the fence.
Quatre nodded. He would have walked on his own but it seemed the boys only felt right by walking so close behind him they almost tripped him on accident twice. They were looking about for anyone who was watching. Once they had gone far enough in the alley that no one would hear them the red hair boy asked. "How much?"

Quatre was surprised. It was almost night and his luck had returned. He had two new customers. "Seventy-five," he told them.

The brown haired one's tension was relaxed. He was dreading that Quatre wasn't going to except the offer and he and his friend would do something drastic. The red haired one gave his friend a cocky I-told-you-so smirk and jerk his head in an upward nod. He began to count his money. "My treat," he told his nervous friend.
Quatre was surprised that he was being paid in forward. He counted the money he received and nearly choked in excitement. He was being paid seventy-five dollars for both of them.

The brown haired one grinned shyly. Quatre excited him. He joined his friend who was undoing his clothes but kept his eyes one Quatre, waiting for him to do the same.

Quatre didn't remove his clothes. Instead he watched them. He had the money in his hand and he could keep it. They wanted more than just a blowjob. They wanted him. He knew it. But he didn't want to give it. It was pointless if he already had the money. It was pointless and he wasn't going to stand for it.
He ran.

"HEY!" screamed the red haired boy. The brown haired boy was only surprised. "Thief! You little cheat!" They tried to scrape their clothes back together and go after him but they were halfway undressed and struggling. "FAGGOT!"

He didn't know the neighborhood as well as they did. They knew where they shouldn't go to get trapped like the ways that had dead ends. They knew short cuts. They found him quickly.

The brown haired one had climbed onto the roof of a building and headed him off when he leaped from the roof and landed in Quatre's path. He was no longer shy. He hated Quatre. He was angry.

Quatre tried a different exit to dodge him but the red haired boy found him. He was trapped. His only way out was the tall gate that blocked his only exit. Desperate and afraid he leaped up the gate and tried to climb it. But the boys were quick and got him around the waist and yanked him down. His hand stung from being ripped off the steel.

They threw him on the ground. The brown haired boy tried anxiously to get the money but the red haired boy was much more violent. He hit Quatre in the nose with his fist causing it to feel numb like it was filling with water. Another fist hit his stomach and he felt his breath leave him. And he cried.

He tried to get on his stomach. He tried to protect the money in his hand. But this got them even more upset. They began kicking him so hard that he flew up a few inches. They got on their knees pounded his back with both their fist. They stomped on his legs and head and back. They stomped so hard that his hands were beat into the cement. They felt like some one had stepped on them. He tried not to cry.

One sat on his back while the other, he couldn't tell whom, grabbed his hair and bashed his face into the cement several times. He couldn't get up, no matter how hard he tried. They ripped off his clothes. They threatened to rape him. He couldn't get up. He couldn't stop them.

"What's all this!" A voice bombed through the alley. "What do you punks think you're doing?" The voice sounded tough and mature like an adult's. The boys didn't stop. The man with the bombing voice had to run and save him.

The boys stopped to look up to the voice, as did Quatre. He wanted to see his savior. There was a man in his late twenties, pushing and shoving the boys out of the way o he could look at Quatre.

"He... he stole our money," cried the brown haired kid who was staggering to his feet after he was thrown aside. The stutter in his voice was a relief to Quatre. It meant he was scared of the man who saved him.

"Is this true?" He turned to Quatre. Quatre felt the grief. He didn't want to give it up. But he nodded anyway. "Well, give it back."

Quatre sadly placed the precious paper on the ground before him. The boys snatched it away. "Now get out of here!" The man yelled angrily. The red haired one spit at Quatre before he ran.

Quatre sat up on his knees holding his clothes to him. They were only ripped a little bit, other then that they were okay to wear. He felt hurt and violated. It was worse now because he was hurt for a reason. He deserved it.

His beauty impressed the man. He golden, silky, cotton soft hair was only a little messy from the struggle. His big clear, crystal blues eyes were pink because he was straining to hold back his tears. Not even the bruise on his nose and face could flaunt his beautiful pale skin. "Are you okay?" the man found himself asking. `This doesn't seem right' the man thought. `Why would someone this beautiful be stealing? He's like an angel doing the devil's work.'

Quatre nodded with tears swelling in his eyes. He finally got a look at the man who saved him. He was tall, much older then he, brown hair slicked back and a business suit like he was on his way to work. "Why did you steal it?" the man asked gently.

He patiently waited for Quatre to pull himself back together. After his ordeal it took him a minute to speak. "They... were... p-paying me."

"Paying you? For what?" But instead of answering verbally Quatre bowed his head in shame, which was an answer the man could understand. "Oh," he smiled wickedly at the thought. "I see. My name's Trieze by the way"-he offered his hand for a shake-"and you are?"

"Quatre," he sniffed taking the hand in his. His other hand held his clothes together.

"If you don't mind me asking,"-Trieze helped him to his feet as an excuse to touch him-"Why were you doing it?"

"It's a long story... and yes I do mind you asking," Quatre glared at the man holding his shoulder. He didn't mean to be so fiery but he truly didn't want a stranger to know all his life problems. It was none of his business unless he was going to give him a loan.

"Sorry," Trieze let go of his arm and raised his hands in defense as if Quatre was about to bite. "I didn't mean to offend you."

Quatre just pulled his shirt back over his shoulder and turned to leave Trieze and his humiliation behind. But Trieze wasn't about to let him get away. "How long have you been in the business? You seem so young."

"Why?" Quatre paused. "Do you want something?" He didn't turn to face him. He was too nervous and shaky.

"No... No. Of course not... actually I have an idea for you, if you need the money. You see... I own this little business place and..."

"NO!" Quatre shot around and refused bluntly. He knew what Trieze was talking about. A whorehouse! He couldn't join a whorehouse. He would be bound to it. He heard the stories. A whorehouse was a contract and he wouldn't be able to leave. This wasn't his job. He could find other means of work. This was just to make some quick money for the water bill not a job! If he were in a whorehouse they would know what he was there for. At least when he was prowling the streets he could simply say he was walking by. Nobody had to know his business on the streets "I can't!"

"What have you go to loose?" This was fascinating to Trieze. Usually the only whores he found were no better looking then a diseased dog and at least over thirty-years of age and were so filthy not even the flies would touch them. But this child, so young, so beautiful, so clean and pure, was willing to sell himself. He would make a fortune off this kid.

"Everything! You don't understand! If anyone knew about it I'd…" he couldn't tell him. It was none of his business.

"They'll never know." Quatre asked what he meant. "I will do anything to protect you." He seemed so willing. "Whatever you want. I'll do it for you."

Quatre thought about it. If no one found out it would be okay? `NO! It's not okay!' Quatre thought. `This isn't for you! It was a one-time thing! You need a real job to keep Pearl and Rue! You can't tell the judge that your main source of income is a whore!'

But then he had counter thoughts. `If I worked under cover there I could afford bills just long enough to get a real job. But that doesn't help the fact that I need one before the month ends!'

"How much do you need?" Trieze interrupted.

"For what?"

"How much money do you need?" he asked again. "Why were you out tonight? How much were you trying to get?"

Quatre paused. "Seventy-five at least," he told him. "But I can't pay you back." Trieze laughed. "All you have to do is try my place tonight. Just for tonight."