Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ The Black Queen ❯ One More Round ( Chapter 4 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Violet_Nyte 
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Psychological / Drama / Angst | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 11.30.2002 | Pages: 3 | Words: 1.4K | Visits: 339 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Psychological / Drama / Angst | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 11.30.2002 | Pages: 3 | Words: 1.4K | Visits: 339 | Status: Work In Progress
LSE // 11-29-02
(The Black Queen - Chapter Four: One More Round)
rated: PG13 - violence, language, content
shounen-ai/yaoi
One More Round
Judging by the empty glasses before me, this is my third shot of
something alcoholic, and somewhere around my tenth drink this
evening. I'm not usually a heavy drinker, but haunting memories beg
to be drowned out in a river of alcohol. Plus men keep buying me
drinks.
I can definitely see why women put up with annoying shoes and
uncomfortable clothes. I look damn sexy. Of course, I've often gotten
the same reactions from men at gay clubs, but its somehow more
rewarding this way. Or maybe that's because I'm really drunk.
"Another for the lady!" a tall blonde at my side calls.
"Boys," I laugh, swaying back on my stool and against a hard expanse
of muscular chest. I lay a hand on a nearby shoulder, "give the lady
a break!"
The laugh in return, but still another glass appears before me, the
dark liquid quivering at the rim. I try to ignore it, but pressing
fear of so many dangerous bodies pressed to me causes a sudden lurch
inside. I grab the drink and knock it back to the cheers of my
companions.
"Helen, show us how to dance," someone calls as the juke box storms
to life and blares a familiar tune.
"Shameless, all of you!" I slur, hopping off the stool and all but
colliding into one of them. I shuffle away and off towards the small,
impromptu dance floor. In fact, it's just the empty space in front of
the juke box. I sway a little to the music, turning to face the
drooling crowd of men still standing over by the bar.
"It's not fun by myself," I pout, lowering one painted lip in an
expression of mock anger. I've found men to be helpless victims of
it. Bodies swarm to surround me as the beat pounds through the ground
and through our minds. Mine at least.
--I'll never forget
--that look in your eye
--I'll never forget
--when we say goodbye
I know the song and start to murmur the words, softly to just myself.
"Hold me, tease me, while the night is ours. Make this a moment to
remember." I sound pretty decent. The wonders of alcohol, let us
marvel.
"Hey, baby," a voice beside me croons, a strong hand closing over my
arm. I start to jerk away in panic, but the grip tightens. A blonde
woman has entered the party and my former attentive slaves have
drunkenly turned their attentions to getting her wasted as well. When
I stop dancing, no one notices.
"You're so pretty," the man says huskily, voice coated with fake
emotions and many layers of whiskey. How attractive.
"Hands off," I say as coldly as possible. It'd be more convincing if I
wasn't slurring and swaying. Why did I have to let those pigs buy me
so many drinks?
"Don't play that way, baby," he repeats, starting to drag me away.
Panic sets in. I see darkness, pain, screams. I try to pull my arm
free, fumbling to my side for the knife contained within my purse...
which is lying atop the bar, beside my empty glasses. Great place a
defensive weapon, Duo.
"Let me go," I cry, kicking at his shin uselessly with my flimsy
shoes. Why didn't I get steel toe boots?
The man only grins drunkly, "Hey. Baby, don't be a tease."
--I'll never forget
--when we say goodbye
--hold me, tease me
"Shut up!" I scream to the juke box, no longer wanting to hear the
song. Evil machine. "Let go!" I shout, unheard over the loud music.
He's dragging me, we're almost to the back room. I can see the murky,
dark interior. Dark.
"Nooo!" I wail, finally yanking my arm free. I should pull out my
killer Gundam pilot skills and rip the bastard open, but fear drives
my actions now, instead of logic. I make a dash for the door.
Abandoning my purse. With my knife. And money.
It's dark outside, too. The bar isn't on the safe side of town. Pools
of weak light stand at street corners populated by whores and drug
dealers. The darker side of Relena's perfect kingdom.
For a moment I huddle in the relative safety outside the bar, wrapping
the darkness and the quiet into a shroud about me. I am Shinigami.
Shinigami thrives in the dark. Shinigami was raised in places far
worse than this. To Shinigami, this is nothing.
I start walking, tightly wrapped arms hugging the velvet. Time, what
time is it? I haven't the faintest idea. My watch face lights up a
brilliant green when I press the tiny button on the side. It's a new
watch, smaller and more feminine than my other, which also had a
light feature. I remember making a vow when they had me thrown in
solitary confinement I'd get a watch that glowed.
The time is just about three-o'-clock. Two fifty-eight if I want to
be precise. I've been AWOL for just about seven hours now. Heero must
be frantic. Nah, sleeping. He doesn't care. Come back soon, K?
Bye-bye.
Pay phone. A phone, but pay. I haven't any money. I step off the curb
and wave one arm, calling, "Taxi!" loudly into the empty street.
Northing. Worth a shot, I guess.
"Hey, sugar, this is our corner," a silken voice calls, punctuated by
a loud snap of gum.
"Not working," I reply.
"Had a bit too much fun at the bars, hun? Ain't gonna be a taxi by
here. Not much traffic, 'cept drugs and Johns. Go on, doll, get off
our spot 'fore you chase 'em all away," the glassy eyed whore says,
shifting her weight on spiked heels.
I'm about to give up and just find a nice doorway to rest in when,
miracle of miracles, a cab appears and stops right there on the
corner. The prostitute and I stare at it in amazement while the other
whores laugh at us both. A business man gets out of the cab and I
dart forward, climbing in before the blessed taxi can leave.
I recite off Relena's address, receiving an angry glare of disbelief
in return. "Yeah, right, and I'm the fucking prince. Where to?"
Where to? I rattle my brain and finally just shrug.
"Too drunk to remember where you live? How about just a hotel, then?
To sleep it off."
I nod, hotels have free phones. No pay. I'll have to call Heero to
pay for the cab. Not that the driver needs to know I have no cash.
I look at the passing scenery, the fear and adrenaline leaving my
system as all I feel is a numb sense of something being wrong. I look
at the nameless faces of the hookers as we drive by, not really
paying attention until I see something that makes my blood run cold.
Standing apart from the pack, one lone girl stares back at me. Pale
blue eyes glitter out from the darkness, a face framed by jaw length,
black hair caught in the moonlight. The multi-colored clothes of the
street walker are foreign to me on her, but besides that it's the
same face beneath the thick makeup.
Natasha.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
< br>
Author's Notes: Wah, sorry this is so short! I couldn't find a better
stopping place, because the next few sections really need to go
together and ::rambles apologetically for a few minutes::
BEDLAM!! Whoooo! Go state! Bedlam is the annual battle between OSU
and OU, and for the second year in a row OSU won ^_^ yay!
Okay, I've had this chapter ready and typed since Friday night...
*sigh* It's Saturday night and the evil known as my brother won't
give me even five minutes of online time so I can post... Good thing
he will be moving out soon!
--song lyrics
Feedback/reviews are very much appreciated!
copyright 2002 - Gundam Wing and characters copyright other people.
LSE - "Violet" (ManzokuBiscuit@aol.com)
Email me to join my Update ML!
http://violetnyte.fallenweb.net
(The Black Queen - Chapter Four: One More Round)
rated: PG13 - violence, language, content
shounen-ai/yaoi
One More Round
Judging by the empty glasses before me, this is my third shot of
something alcoholic, and somewhere around my tenth drink this
evening. I'm not usually a heavy drinker, but haunting memories beg
to be drowned out in a river of alcohol. Plus men keep buying me
drinks.
I can definitely see why women put up with annoying shoes and
uncomfortable clothes. I look damn sexy. Of course, I've often gotten
the same reactions from men at gay clubs, but its somehow more
rewarding this way. Or maybe that's because I'm really drunk.
"Another for the lady!" a tall blonde at my side calls.
"Boys," I laugh, swaying back on my stool and against a hard expanse
of muscular chest. I lay a hand on a nearby shoulder, "give the lady
a break!"
The laugh in return, but still another glass appears before me, the
dark liquid quivering at the rim. I try to ignore it, but pressing
fear of so many dangerous bodies pressed to me causes a sudden lurch
inside. I grab the drink and knock it back to the cheers of my
companions.
"Helen, show us how to dance," someone calls as the juke box storms
to life and blares a familiar tune.
"Shameless, all of you!" I slur, hopping off the stool and all but
colliding into one of them. I shuffle away and off towards the small,
impromptu dance floor. In fact, it's just the empty space in front of
the juke box. I sway a little to the music, turning to face the
drooling crowd of men still standing over by the bar.
"It's not fun by myself," I pout, lowering one painted lip in an
expression of mock anger. I've found men to be helpless victims of
it. Bodies swarm to surround me as the beat pounds through the ground
and through our minds. Mine at least.
--I'll never forget
--that look in your eye
--I'll never forget
--when we say goodbye
I know the song and start to murmur the words, softly to just myself.
"Hold me, tease me, while the night is ours. Make this a moment to
remember." I sound pretty decent. The wonders of alcohol, let us
marvel.
"Hey, baby," a voice beside me croons, a strong hand closing over my
arm. I start to jerk away in panic, but the grip tightens. A blonde
woman has entered the party and my former attentive slaves have
drunkenly turned their attentions to getting her wasted as well. When
I stop dancing, no one notices.
"You're so pretty," the man says huskily, voice coated with fake
emotions and many layers of whiskey. How attractive.
"Hands off," I say as coldly as possible. It'd be more convincing if I
wasn't slurring and swaying. Why did I have to let those pigs buy me
so many drinks?
"Don't play that way, baby," he repeats, starting to drag me away.
Panic sets in. I see darkness, pain, screams. I try to pull my arm
free, fumbling to my side for the knife contained within my purse...
which is lying atop the bar, beside my empty glasses. Great place a
defensive weapon, Duo.
"Let me go," I cry, kicking at his shin uselessly with my flimsy
shoes. Why didn't I get steel toe boots?
The man only grins drunkly, "Hey. Baby, don't be a tease."
--I'll never forget
--when we say goodbye
--hold me, tease me
"Shut up!" I scream to the juke box, no longer wanting to hear the
song. Evil machine. "Let go!" I shout, unheard over the loud music.
He's dragging me, we're almost to the back room. I can see the murky,
dark interior. Dark.
"Nooo!" I wail, finally yanking my arm free. I should pull out my
killer Gundam pilot skills and rip the bastard open, but fear drives
my actions now, instead of logic. I make a dash for the door.
Abandoning my purse. With my knife. And money.
It's dark outside, too. The bar isn't on the safe side of town. Pools
of weak light stand at street corners populated by whores and drug
dealers. The darker side of Relena's perfect kingdom.
For a moment I huddle in the relative safety outside the bar, wrapping
the darkness and the quiet into a shroud about me. I am Shinigami.
Shinigami thrives in the dark. Shinigami was raised in places far
worse than this. To Shinigami, this is nothing.
I start walking, tightly wrapped arms hugging the velvet. Time, what
time is it? I haven't the faintest idea. My watch face lights up a
brilliant green when I press the tiny button on the side. It's a new
watch, smaller and more feminine than my other, which also had a
light feature. I remember making a vow when they had me thrown in
solitary confinement I'd get a watch that glowed.
The time is just about three-o'-clock. Two fifty-eight if I want to
be precise. I've been AWOL for just about seven hours now. Heero must
be frantic. Nah, sleeping. He doesn't care. Come back soon, K?
Bye-bye.
Pay phone. A phone, but pay. I haven't any money. I step off the curb
and wave one arm, calling, "Taxi!" loudly into the empty street.
Northing. Worth a shot, I guess.
"Hey, sugar, this is our corner," a silken voice calls, punctuated by
a loud snap of gum.
"Not working," I reply.
"Had a bit too much fun at the bars, hun? Ain't gonna be a taxi by
here. Not much traffic, 'cept drugs and Johns. Go on, doll, get off
our spot 'fore you chase 'em all away," the glassy eyed whore says,
shifting her weight on spiked heels.
I'm about to give up and just find a nice doorway to rest in when,
miracle of miracles, a cab appears and stops right there on the
corner. The prostitute and I stare at it in amazement while the other
whores laugh at us both. A business man gets out of the cab and I
dart forward, climbing in before the blessed taxi can leave.
I recite off Relena's address, receiving an angry glare of disbelief
in return. "Yeah, right, and I'm the fucking prince. Where to?"
Where to? I rattle my brain and finally just shrug.
"Too drunk to remember where you live? How about just a hotel, then?
To sleep it off."
I nod, hotels have free phones. No pay. I'll have to call Heero to
pay for the cab. Not that the driver needs to know I have no cash.
I look at the passing scenery, the fear and adrenaline leaving my
system as all I feel is a numb sense of something being wrong. I look
at the nameless faces of the hookers as we drive by, not really
paying attention until I see something that makes my blood run cold.
Standing apart from the pack, one lone girl stares back at me. Pale
blue eyes glitter out from the darkness, a face framed by jaw length,
black hair caught in the moonlight. The multi-colored clothes of the
street walker are foreign to me on her, but besides that it's the
same face beneath the thick makeup.
Natasha.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
< br>
Author's Notes: Wah, sorry this is so short! I couldn't find a better
stopping place, because the next few sections really need to go
together and ::rambles apologetically for a few minutes::
BEDLAM!! Whoooo! Go state! Bedlam is the annual battle between OSU
and OU, and for the second year in a row OSU won ^_^ yay!
Okay, I've had this chapter ready and typed since Friday night...
*sigh* It's Saturday night and the evil known as my brother won't
give me even five minutes of online time so I can post... Good thing
he will be moving out soon!
--song lyrics
Feedback/reviews are very much appreciated!
copyright 2002 - Gundam Wing and characters copyright other people.
LSE - "Violet" (ManzokuBiscuit@aol.com)
Email me to join my Update ML!
http://violetnyte.fallenweb.net