I don't own Cowboy Bebop...I just like writing.
"I was trying to feel some kind of good-bye. I mean I've left schools and places I didn't even know I was leaving them. I hate that. I don't care if it's a sad good-bye or a bad good-bye, but when I leave a place I like to know I'm leaving it. If you don't you feel even worse."
― J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye
Comradery and Conclusions; Faye loathed those topics. Whenever she brashly fled the Bebop, it was because of one or both those things. Faye would never tell anyone, not even Ein her canine confidant, but she was terrified by those things. "Friendship" was only a fancy synonym for "misuse," and as for goodbyes...well Faye just sucked at those.
Dizzy with a stream of alcohol coursing through her veins, Faye slumped in the stool at a bar on Callisto. The saxophone's passionate melody danced and kissed her ears. This is where she belonged. She didn't need them and they didn't care about her anyways, so why should she continue to burden them.
"To hell with them," she spat bitterly to herself. "If they cared, they would have came looking for me a long time ago."
It seemed that the more she cursed them to shit, the more she thought about them. This was counterproductive to her goal. She fled to Callisto to drink herself numb, and to forget she ever decided to join this makeshift "team." She wanted to burn every memory, every night, every touch, and every word she shared with him.
"Fucking Lunkhead...fuck you and all of your shit."
She gestured to the bartender to prepare her another shot of cheap whiskey. His eyes, like all the other twenty-five or so pairs, trailed along all of her exposed flesh. Callisto was a place deprived of women, so she expected nothing less. He should have cut her off seven shots ago, but very few men can deny a woman like Faye Valentine. She downed the shot with little effort, and then clumsily lit up a cigarette. She didn't take a drag, but let it dangle uselessly from her lips. She that was her last one because a certain Lunkhead "borrowed" half of her pack last night.
"Last night..." she breathed quietly.
Faye couldn't help but to smile slightly at the thought. It was a strange tangle of emotions: hatred, lust, loathing, and desire. Whenever he so much as looked at her with that lazy and knowing smile of his, she felt like his calloused hands were touching her skin yet again. Spike Spiegel was only was good for making people feel confused. Faye knew what she was getting into when she let him kiss her that first time. Faye knew that this "thing" that they had wasn't about love but need. The need to have someone fill the void and numb the pain away, at least for the night. And Faye knew that out of all the unspoken terms and conditions she agreed to that the most important one was to never mention her.
"Achoo!"
Faye sniffed. That damned Callisto snow was getting to her.
"Take care. Yeah, that was a close one. If someone sneezes and no one says 'take care', that person will turn into a fairy. That's what people say around here, you know. "
Faye looked up to see the tall handsome saxophone player smiling down at her. Faye smiled back seductively and decided that she was going to forget about Spike and his baggage tonight somehow.