Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Ugly ❯ Where dreams end ( Chapter 14 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
AN. Hello my sweet readers, thou who doth me hatest.. I found chapter 14 and tweaked it a little. I had originally wanted it to go the way it does now but the last time I published it Duo didn't even talk to X at all. Now he does, as he was supposed to. They're supposed to become friends, right now…
Anyway, the last time I updated this was… in 2005? Bad, bad me. And when I finally do, I don't even have any completely new material to offer except for the end of the chapter. This chapter is also un-betaed because I can't ask my dear friend ZaKai to do that now. Poor thing is swamped with 2041 other urgent things she must do. I did use the Office spelling and grammar check feature but it cannot alert me to all of the mistakes there are, so I hope that you will forgive me.
As far as the story goes… well it lives and evolves in my head, all the time. And how does this benefit you, you ask? It doesn't. A story that is stuck in my head without finding a way out benefits no one. I can only offer my apologies and say that this must be what they mean when they're talking about a writer's block.
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Duo had lost his sense of direction almost completely.
Who knew that this little city had so many little streets? He had walked longer now than he expected, and though he had been trying to memorize landmarks or look for some familiar places to clue him in about where he was, it was next to impossible to remember every new detail he took in. Well, for his defense, he had only lived here some two-three years now, spending most of them being afraid in his room...
He was completely out of breath now and his head and jaws ached most horribly. He was sweaty, thirsty and lost. Once he had been forced to hide himself in a small opening between a store door and a dirty wall that had smelled suspiciously like urine. Some of the smell had rubbed on him, but in his opinion it was worth it in this case. The reason for this abrupt james-bondesque behavior was that he had seen some guys from his school wandering on the street, and he really didn't feel like running into them. He really didn't feel up to dealing with any sort of trouble right now.
Even if most of the people were happy about getting rid of Alex there were some of those who were much like him in that sense that they only needed a small reason for beating someone up, or at least for pushing them around a little, and Duo really didn't feel like getting caught wearing a red velvet jacket that was just screaming for negative attention and sending god knows what signals around...
He had continued his trek down the street looking considerably more ruffled, dirty and suspicious than he had before. His braid had unraveled somewhat, but he didn't have a comb with him. He never did, since usually his braids held. He braided them tightly; four pedantically separated sections weaved into a shining rope of hair.
He walked on, feeling sillier and sillier with each step. What had he been thinking, anyway? Where was he?
Some old lady took a look at him, and crossed the street to walk on the other side. He would have wanted her to pass by him so that he could have stopped her, and asked her for the time, and maybe some directions... But she just looked scared and scampered away as fast as her little pumps would take her. Duo was frustrated. He didn't have the courage to talk to anyone except for old ladies, and now they were avoiding him... Life just sucked tonight.
Still silently reprimanding himself for his too spontaneous and abrupt decision-making he took another corner and then, to his great surprise, he saw a sign hanging from two metal chains. It had a picture of a coffee-cup done in gold on a brown surface. It was swinging a little in the breeze that had started to cool down. Duo shivered, and then he remembered that he had no money.
Staring at the sign in confusion, he slowly resumed his walking. When he was standing under it, he turned to face the café door. ”Riou's café” said the letters on the glass surface. How had he managed to find it? By accident, for sure, and maybe some dumb luck though this was so unexpected that he felt almost like believing in fate for a moment.
Right now though he was cold, and so he stepped over the brown threshold, pushing the glass-door open.
A tiny bell rang above him, making him suddenly think of Trowa's pizza-place, and suddenly he found himself wishing surprisingly hard that he had been there instead of here. For a moment he pictured hearing Trowa's voice tell him that he could have some food from the kitchen, and if he wanted to wait a little, Trowa's shift would end and then they could do something fun together...
Duo blinked his eyes, letting the door swing shut behind him.
The walls of the cafe were vaguely honey-colored, darkened with time, the corners near the ceilings almost black with age. The wood of the furniture was cherry-colored, but it looked unpolished and uncared for. Most likely it had just been wiped clean for decades. Some old drunks were sitting in the far end of the café, and one girl was seated near the door, sipping tea, leaning her cheek on her hand, eyes staring out of the window, obviously lost in thought.
Duo was completely aware of his own stupidity, as he took some tentative steps toward the counter. A man wearing a white apron was standing behind it, cleaning a glass unhurriedly. Before him sat a selection of pastries that looked a couple of weeks old.
Duo could hear a stray little fly snap against the window in the quiet of the café, as it groggily searched a way out, probably unaware of the fact that it wasn't summer outside anymore and there would be nowhere to hide from the cold.
The man kept on meticulously polishing the glass, ignoring Duo until he heard his own weak voice whisper: ” Is there a Howard Bechmann here?”
The man slowly looked at him over his glass, before resuming his task again. He paid no attention to Duo's bandaging. Not even for a lingering look. His eyes were a deep shade of brown and they had drowsy lids. When he spoke, his voice sounded as unhurried as his movements with the glass, and the blinking of his eyes had been.
”Sure. There he is, in the back. Been there since the Noah's Flood, and most probably keeps sitting there until he's dead.” Duo cleared his throat a little, his voice very young and hoarse in his ears. ”Thank you...”
He was left standing before the counter chewing on his lip, twisting the letters in his pocket. He didn't know what to do next. What were the odds of this happening, that he would actually find Riou's café, not to mention Howard, anyway? What was he going to do now? Why had he come? He had absolutely no plan. He had just acted on impulse as usual and now, here he was...
He scrunched the letters in his pocket.
”Howard! Someone's here to see you!” the sudden yell from the drowsy appearing bartender scared Duo for a moment and he started, some of the longer strands of his bangs going into his eyes. He blinked rapidly, and huffed, and then he cast an uncertain look at the group of old drunks in the corner. One of them was waving at him to come closer. He had risen from his chair a little.
”See!” the drunk bellowed to his friends, excitement in his voice. ”There's a fan, now! I've been telling you that people still worship Howard, losers! Howard and the Sweepers is still on the top, man!”
He pushed one of his drinking mates' shoulders so that the man rocked violently forward, almost into his glass. Not caring about this, in fact almost seeming like he didn't even notice he just righted himself and lifted his glass to his lips again.
”Rock'n'Roll man. That's iron!” and the man who had called out to Duo shook a hard and rough looking fist in the air in a manner that was clearly intended as a display of youthful energy.
Duo swallowed.
The man resembled no one he had seen before. Not in real life or in photograph. His gray hair was sticking up from his temples and the crown of his head was bald and brown. He had a gray goatee on his chin, and he was wearing the most sight-harming Hawaiian shirt Duo had ever seen. He wasn't graceful. He wasn't beautiful. His fingertips were yellow, and his beard had a yellowish tint. His back was a bit bent, though he tried his best to look powerful and his bleary eyes were full of dulled shine. They were staring past everything in a weirdly un-seeing way. Probably at some fantasy version of reality, an alcohol induced dream of grandeur.
Duo walked to the men, slowly. Howard fastened his yes on Duo. ”He is a fan! He's wearing a red jacket!” The man pointed at Duo, and then continued: ”The snot-noses of today listen to such crap!”
He snorted contemptuously ”They know nothing of REAL music! All they listen to is that Michael Jackson and whatever shitty music those pseudo-rockers in leopard tights make, all kind of Nirvana's and whatever idiots... But US! WE knew how to ROCK. Sit down boy. Where's your drink?”
Duo smelled the cigarette smoke, and the stench coming from the men themselves. Howard's breath carried into his nostrils even from the distance they had between them and Duo thought it smelled somehow rotten. Howard hadn't mentioned his bandaging either, and Duo was beginning to suspect that the man hadn't even noticed it. All he paid attention to was himself.
A sudden burst of late afternoon light made their surroundings oddly calm, despite the obvious decay that was going on here. Duo pulled a chair and as he sat down, the sunlight waned and became a memory, again.
”I don't have any money. ” he said a bit warily, looking at the men from underneath his bangs.
”Oh, that's no problem! I've got money to wipe my ass with!” The man boasted and and yelled to the bartender. ” Hey Roger! A beer for the boy!”
The bartender named Roger was still polishing the glass behind his counter and row of old pastries. ”He's too young for a beer Howard,” he said, not raising his voice or eyes.
”Aww, C'mon! Gerry! Let the boy relax a little.” Duo felt uncomfortable about this and he didn't believe that Howard had any money, anyway.
”It's alright.,” he said quietly. ”I don't need anything.”
”I need to buy a beer for a fan!” the drunken passé yelled, and then changed the subject so abruptly it was hard to follow, as seemed to be his style. ”Wow did I used to get the ladies! They'd fall down left and right at my feet. I still can, you know. I could get that girl over there, if I wanted”.
And now Howard was making elaborate motions with his head towards the young girl sitting in her thoughts by the window. Duo glanced at her and at that moment she looked up. Her eyes were dark, and as they met Duo's something passed between them. It was like recognizing a fellow alien though everyone was wearing a human skin. She was his age, he supposed, and she would never cast another look at Howard.
The girl smiled slightly, and Duo was surprised to find the corners of his mouth turn to the slightest smile in return. Then Howard, tugging at Duo's sleeve, broke the moment. ” A fan jacket, eh? Somebody still appreciates good music.” and he was waggling his eyebrows to Duo in the conspiratoriest manner, which just made Duo feel even more tired. All that man could do was repeat him self, over and over...
This was it? This was all? ”What about your wife?” Duo asked, hoping to get something new out of the old drunk. That only served to make Howard howl with laughter and bang on Duo's back painfully hard with his hard hand. ”Ah, the wife. She should've been more understanding, you know. Who could expect a celebrity like myself not to humor my fans? I mean c'mon! There are chicks all over the place and they're all hot for me! It's a wife's duty to understand, you know. She knew I was a star when she married me... And besides, the broad begun to get old after a couple of years.”
”Howard's divorced.” said one of his drinking buddies, and then he turned his focus back to his beer. Not any more sober than Howard was, there was still something different about him. He was just as broken as the other man but there was an air of truthfulness around him.
It suddenly made Duo remember that he had come to do something even if he wasn't sure what that was. Duo touched his fingers to the lapels of the jacket he was wearing.
”It's yours,” he said.
Howard had to stop for a moment to look at him. ”What? Nah, I've got red jackets better than that piece o'crap that you're wearing, but thanks anyway, kiddo...” and he laughed a smug laugh, completely ungrateful, even though he obviously thought Duo was offering him his jacket as a gift. Duo felt slightly ill.
”No, it's your jacket. Your jacket. Used to be a favorite jacket of yours, actually.”
Howard was staring at him, the horizontal lines in his sun-tanned cheeks visible, his beard shaking, his eyes bleary and completely empty. Then he laughed and said, ”Anyway kid, thank you and all, but NO I do NOT want your jacket. Now, when I was young-” and he kept rattling on, obviously simply just ignoring a sentence that made no sense to him.
Duo put his hand in the left pocket, feeling the letters. Why had he taken them with him? Was he really going to deliver them, like delivering justice or something like that? Had he really thought that it would make a difference, especially after he had realized that it was miracle that he had found Howard at all? He was staring at the man who paid no attention to the fact that no-one was listening to him, a man who had just gone old and sad with time... A man who had once been so handsome. A man who's skin Septem had never touched... He was startled again when that other drunk who had spoken to him before, spoke again.
”I dunno what you want with him kid, but that's all you're gonna get.” the man nodded toward Howard's obliviously ranting figure with his head. “I should know, I was the Sweepers' drummer...” he sighed, and it was a tired sound. His face was unremarkable, the kind you will forget, with many wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, skin brown and hard. His hands looked strong too. Perhaps he was still able to work? Howard was probably leeching off of him now, and the rest of the few men sitting in that table...
Duo pushed his chair back and stood up in a sudden movement that even surprised himself. ” I have to go,” he said.
The man from the other side of table simply nodded to him as goodbye, the other two hardly noticed, only flicking their eyes a little to his direction, and Howard didn't notice at all, he was so swept up in his story about how he had once screwed three chicks at the same time while giving a radio-interview.
Duo felt empty as his eyes were idly scanning the quiet café. Café... What a joke. Perhaps it had once been an elegant coffee shop, but it had died and mummified, and now there were only ghosts of the past inside it. Including the ghosts of the pastries.
What had he tried to do, he asked himself again. Avenge his uncle? His throat constricted and for a moment he felt like he could not breathe.
” I have never even been hugged that way”.
Septem.
Now he was dead. He was gone, and there was nothing anyone could do for him anymore. Duo took a couple of steps toward the door and then he steeled himself to the wind outside and left the café.
Life doesn't have a beginning and an end like stories do, thought Duo, pushing against a particularly nastily biting gust.
Life just happens, then it continues for sometime and then it's over. Something might happen before the end but then, it's just as possible that nothing at all happens. When people reassure you that you will get a boyfriend or a girlfriend someday and that you will be okay...
They could be wrong.
Perhaps being okay for most is nothing more than forgetting your pain instead of conquering it and learning from it... Perhaps you just forget and then you forget who you used to be also, and learn nothing from any of it. No solution to your problems ever comes your way, you just keep going, gradually forgetting, and then you one day die, and nothing of this meant anything at all.
It could just as well be, thought Duo as he walked rather aimlessly now, hands deep in his pockets to hide from the cold, that he would share his uncle's fate and no one would even think about it much.
Or maybe he could join the army, pilot a jet, shave the braid and become a war-hero, somewhere?
Though he had never seen a war, just read articles, and it didn't seem clean or heroic at all. There was no glory there for anyone, just needless pain. He had read an article where a victim of war had told about how he and their town's people were attacked. Even boys of fifteen had been dragged crying from their homes to join the army and in the streets chaos reined. They heard women screaming, and the screams always abruptly ended. Later on, they found out, that the invading soldiers had first raped the women and then slaughtered them with knives. That was what war was really like... So perhaps Duo preferred not being a hero after all. But he still hoped that he could do something to prevent himself from being entirely forgotten. Maybe it would not be too much to hope to become the hero of your own life?
Looking around him for the first time in some fifteen minutes he noticed that he was standing on a strip of pavement he was pretty sure he had never seen before. He had tried to follow his footsteps back but lost in thought he had obviously taken a wrong turn and now he was god knew where, without his bus card, without money and he was cold and a little bit scared too.
Despite that, Duo only sighed. It was not in him to panic. ”Oh well” he muttered to himself. ”At least Uncle Septem won't be forgotten, because I will not forget him. That I'm lost is a small price to pay for that...”
He looked around. There were hardly any people on the streets anymore, it was dry and cold and the blue and violet hues of early evening were beginning to descend, stretching the shadows and making them meld into one another.
Duo sighed again. ”Well, nothing I can do but keep trying until I get it right... First I'll check where those busses are heading, and when I see a familiar destination, I'll just follow their routes... Might take me awhile to get home, but I'll get there, eventually. Surely I will be okay.”
Sighing again, he turned his steps to the nearest bus stop, and began his long trek to get back home.
He had been walking for thirty minutes when he heard a car honk its horn somewhere behind him. He didn't want to turn because it was just trouble on it's way like always, he was sure of it. Scared but determined he kept on going, wishing that the darkness would hide him in it's comforting and scary folds. That was not to be though, because the car sped up and then he heard a voice call out to him.
“Hey! You there! You were at Riou's while I was there too. The braid and the jacket are easy to spot!”
Duo cursed inwardly. Now what? Hadn't he been a nice boy for the duration of the day, nice enough to earn a break, if just for tonight… but the voice was female and it didn't sound mocking. Duo was used to scanning everyone's speech for the slightest little signs of evil intent. After all, sometimes that was all that stood between facing public humiliation and escaping from it. If he could tell that friendliness was a trap, he had a chance to save him self, and according to his experience so far, it usually was. Oh, he wanted to trust, he just knew that it was usually a bad, bad idea. He tried to walk faster.
“Hey wait! Are you lost? I could give you a ride if you want…” the voice of that girls sounded so sincere. Duo couldn't really feel his fingers anymore but he knew that getting into that car might mean being driven to some even more distant location where he would be unceremoniously dumped back into the cold to survive to the best of his ability-
“Are you listening to me? I'd like to drive you where you need to go, you really look like you're lost and you sounded so nice there at the coffee shop. Not that I listened or anything but I couldn't help over hearing some of that stuff you all said…”
Duo was thinking hard, now. There's nothing like wandering in the cold for a long period of time to make you run straight into whatever salvation is there for you but then, the fear of making a decision that will ruin your life forever is still even stronger. Duo knew for a fact that were people who could offer him a ride and he would rather march into a freezer than accept, but this girl sounded so nice… and she didn't know Duo.
Besides, she was just a girl. Duo could wrestle the wheel from her and jump out of the car if need be. He could hit her if she tried to hurt him, but then… if she was part of the real teenage elite Duo would suffer for his actions far more than taking her abuse-
“HEY. I'm not going to yell at you forever. You look cold and I could help!”
In the end it was the sincerity and lack of real anger in her voice that won him over. He sighed and stopped. Digging his hands deeper into his pockets he drawled: “Yeeah, I'm actually freezing here, you're right. I have no idea where I am and asking for directions just isn't my best ability.” He sighed so much that his shoulders jumped before they slumped completely.
“I would appreciate your help. Duo Maxwell, at your service.”
Where had that come from? Usually he saved his humor for his friends, for the people with whom he felt comfortable enough to forget all excessive carefulness and just be him self.
“Actually”, laughed the girl, “I think it's me who is in your service, good sir!”
Stopping her car and reaching over to push the passenger side door open for Duo she smiled, her dark eyes glinting with glee, passion and integrity etched in the features of her young face.
“My name's Hilde Schbeiker. Nice to meet you.”
Tbc.