A/N: As most people wanted this story first, here it is. It is set in the
same time as 'Marron the teenage drama queen' only this story is told from
Bra's POV instead and is based around her relationship with Uub; with Goten
and Marron as the minor couple. After this will be the Pan and Trunks
story. Only, it is only fair that I warn you that the P/T story isn't a
comedy at all. It has a sad side to it. This is a comedy though.
I am having loads of fun writing these because of the different personalities of the girls in it. I have the spoilt, popular girl, the nerd and the tomboy. Anyway, enough of this, I'll start writing!
Chapter 1
Out of all the people in the world, my mother had to be the most irritating. Bulma loved to party, to dress up, to wear products tested on animals and to have a good time. I was the complete opposite.
So when the time came to plan the birthday party of my brother, Trunks (who was a year older than I), Bulma went completely and utterly over the top. Of course, I had expected nothing less of a woman like my mother who spends every other day shut up in her lab with such an outgoing personality. But even so, she still managed to succeed in (as my other peers would put it) totally creeping me out.
"We simply MUST have a BIG party, Trunks. And ALLL of your friends from school can come. And we can have a GIANT cake and lots of food and of course, MUSIC!"
Bulma had a habit of speaking in capitols when she was overexcited. Which was pretty much all the time. It was Friday afternoon and Goten, Trunks' best friend, had just gone to take Marron to tutoring with his elder brother. It was common knowledge to everyone that Goten had the world's biggest crush on Marron while she was completely oblivious to the whole idea.
I never really liked Marron. When I moved up a grade at the beginning of the year, she became the only female I knew in my form and therefore the only one other than my brother and his friends that I could associate with. She gives the meaning to the phrase 'Dumb Blonde' as she demonstrates failed attempts to notice Goten's obvious affection and places her attentions on my dimwit of an elder brother.
"Mother, there is no need to go to all those lengths..." Trunks murmured embarrassedly and for a moment, I pitied him, remembering the times Bulma had tried to convince me to have a large party but gave up after a few years of repetitive failure. Then I simply reminded myself that deep down, Trunks wanted this party as much as she did.
"Of COURSE we do, Trunks. You're my SON after all!" She exclaimed as she rushed around the room. "We have two weeks to prepare. Oh, we can go shopping and you have to pick presents and we MUST get decorations! Oh I simply can't WAIT!"
Trunks smiled with both his lips and his frosty blue eyes as he brushed away a piece of his light lilac hair that had come too far forward into his face. He was wearing nothing but a tank top and jeans to show off his evenly tanned skin, flexed with large muscles. I frowned, trying to catch his eye but failed miserably.
"You don't really need a big party for him, Mother." I argued. "Trunks may be popular but he is not some attention seeking, football playing underdeveloped teenage youth who needs a large party every time he ages a year."
I enjoyed watching the stunned looks on others faces as they reran my sentences through their heads to try and understand my vast vocabulary even if it meant I was a disgusting boaster. I often like to count the milliseconds between the end of my sentence and the time it takes them to come up with a decent reply. Only, Bulma was used to this kind of behavior now and her vocabulary was just as impressive as my own so it didn't take her long to reply.
"Trunks wants a party, Bra. Any normal kid would want a party." She stressed the word normal and cast a dark look in my direction. Trunks looked from our mother, to me and backed out of the room, sensing an argument was about to brake out. He had the right idea.
"I am a perfectly sane, healthy and normal child, mother. Like you, I have obtained a vast knowledge of the world around me in an early stage of my life. Unlike you, I have put that knowledge to better use in studying, other than spending my time organizing pointless parties like this one."
"That is it, young lady!" She replied bitterly. "You will go to your brother's birthday in two weeks time, you will help me to prepare for it and we will go shopping for supplies this weekend and we are going to have a lovely time!"
I went shopping with her. But I didn't have a lovely time. I wore my favorite outfit, my oldest jeans and a very old brown T-shirt barring the words 'SOS- Save our solar system!' on the front. Bulma marched along ahead dressed in much more suitable clothes and carrying a handbag bursting with cash.
"What shall we buy first, hmm?" She asked me over her shoulder. "I know! Let's get you a nice new outfit to wear! Something really pretty to bring out the colour in your eyes!"
"Why can't I just wear what I have on now?" I asked her with raised eyebrows and a scowl, a slightly odd combination. Bulma turned to face me and looked me up and down with a look of distaste.
"Because the clothes you have on aren't suitable. Don't worry, my darling daughter, just leave the outfit up to me."
"So I'll just stand around and let you dress me like a doll?" I asked her bitterly. Bulma didn't reply as she had found a clothes shop she liked.
"Oh, this is one of my favorites. Let's have a quick look, shall we?"
It wasn't as if I had a choice. I groaned and followed her inside, grumbling to myself. When Bulma said 'Just a quick look' it usually meant we would stay until we had tried on every outfit in the entire store.
"Oh, here's one you'll like!" Bulma cried triumphantly, producing an emerald green sequined top and a matching black leather mini skirt. "Now doesn't that outfit look nice?"
"Yeah, yeah whatever. Just buy it." I grumbled, wanting to leave here now more than ever.
"Oh no, Bra. You have to try it on."
"Why?"
"Because how will we know if it's your size or not?"
"We can make a rough guess." I suggested hopefully. "Anyway, I thought we were buying party supplies, not clothes. And you know I utterly detest clothes that have been made by slave laborers."
It was the truth. I didn't believe in slave labor and had taken sewing classes in order to make my own clothes to avoid buying clothes which all seemed to be made by slave labors anyway. Only, I discovered later that sewing wasn't exactly my area of great strength.
"We should get you some nice new bras as well." Bulma said, entirely delighted as we made our way to a changing cubicle.
Oh great, I could live up to my namesake. I snatched the clothes away from my mother and slammed the door of the cubicle shut with such force, the walls around me rattled threateningly. I ripped my own clothes over my head and stuffed myself into the outfit.
I had to admit when I stared into my own reflection, I didn't look as bad as I would have thought. The top was pulled unusually tight against my body to show my figure better. Bulma had given me the size smaller so my belly button showed a little. The skirt, also a size too small, sat on my hips and didn't reach as far down as I would have liked. But like Bulma had said it would, the colours made my misty green eyes appear larger and brighter than usual. My teal green hair, which sat tidily at chest level, was glossier and softer than it had appeared before.
"Bra, can I come in and look?" Bulma asked from outside the door.
"If you want to be incredibly horrified than you may." I yelled in reply, not removing my eyes from the reflection in the mirror.
Bulma burst through the door and gasped, turning me around to face her and inspecting me with a glint of pride glowing in her eyes. The same glint of pride she showed whenever I received top marks in a test.
"Oh Bra, my darling!" She cooed, pulling me into a slightly uncomfortable hug. "You look so grown up!"
"Yeah, thanks Mum." I said dully, pushing her away from me. "Ok then, let's get it and get out of here."
"We have to buy you some shoes as well, and a little handbag to match. And we simply must get you hair done...." Bulma mumbled to herself, her mind drifting elsewhere.
"Alright, we will. But first, can you do one thing for me?"
"Yes dear?" She answered sweetly.
"GET OUT!" I bellowed and Bulma jumped backwards in shock, allowing me to shut the door and change back into my regular, fifteen year old self.
We walked back through the rest of the shops, buying matching black high heels that I would most likely take off after the first five minutes, a black handbag I would never use anyway and a whole bag of makeup I completely refused to wear. Bulma also booked me in for a hairdresser appointment on Saturday afternoon, just before the party. I mental picture of myself dressed up like an eighteen year old, standing with a group of blondes and trying to get the attention of some older guy flashed into my mind and I shuddered at the thought.
"You'll be the most beautiful girl there." Bulma stated admirably. "The one all the boys will want to dance with."
"I strongly doubt that." I muttered. "And you seem to have forgotten the whole point of this shopping trip. We didn't buy a present for Trunks OR arrange any party decorations at all!"
"Oh they'll be time for that later." Bulma replied airily. "What do you think he would want? Music? Computer games? Sport things?"
I shrugged. "I don't think he'd care if he got cow dung, Mum. The only thing Trunks cares about on his birthday is having a party."
"You're right, Bra. We should put our effort into his party and give him something simple for a present. Maybe some money he can spend on something he wants. What do you think?"
"I think it's time to go home." I replied, unable to stand waiting around the shops any longer. I grabbed my mother by the wrist and marched her to the car park.
"Oh you're no fun." Bulma said jokingly.
"I know." I replied dismissively and pulled her to the car.
I am having loads of fun writing these because of the different personalities of the girls in it. I have the spoilt, popular girl, the nerd and the tomboy. Anyway, enough of this, I'll start writing!
Chapter 1
Out of all the people in the world, my mother had to be the most irritating. Bulma loved to party, to dress up, to wear products tested on animals and to have a good time. I was the complete opposite.
So when the time came to plan the birthday party of my brother, Trunks (who was a year older than I), Bulma went completely and utterly over the top. Of course, I had expected nothing less of a woman like my mother who spends every other day shut up in her lab with such an outgoing personality. But even so, she still managed to succeed in (as my other peers would put it) totally creeping me out.
"We simply MUST have a BIG party, Trunks. And ALLL of your friends from school can come. And we can have a GIANT cake and lots of food and of course, MUSIC!"
Bulma had a habit of speaking in capitols when she was overexcited. Which was pretty much all the time. It was Friday afternoon and Goten, Trunks' best friend, had just gone to take Marron to tutoring with his elder brother. It was common knowledge to everyone that Goten had the world's biggest crush on Marron while she was completely oblivious to the whole idea.
I never really liked Marron. When I moved up a grade at the beginning of the year, she became the only female I knew in my form and therefore the only one other than my brother and his friends that I could associate with. She gives the meaning to the phrase 'Dumb Blonde' as she demonstrates failed attempts to notice Goten's obvious affection and places her attentions on my dimwit of an elder brother.
"Mother, there is no need to go to all those lengths..." Trunks murmured embarrassedly and for a moment, I pitied him, remembering the times Bulma had tried to convince me to have a large party but gave up after a few years of repetitive failure. Then I simply reminded myself that deep down, Trunks wanted this party as much as she did.
"Of COURSE we do, Trunks. You're my SON after all!" She exclaimed as she rushed around the room. "We have two weeks to prepare. Oh, we can go shopping and you have to pick presents and we MUST get decorations! Oh I simply can't WAIT!"
Trunks smiled with both his lips and his frosty blue eyes as he brushed away a piece of his light lilac hair that had come too far forward into his face. He was wearing nothing but a tank top and jeans to show off his evenly tanned skin, flexed with large muscles. I frowned, trying to catch his eye but failed miserably.
"You don't really need a big party for him, Mother." I argued. "Trunks may be popular but he is not some attention seeking, football playing underdeveloped teenage youth who needs a large party every time he ages a year."
I enjoyed watching the stunned looks on others faces as they reran my sentences through their heads to try and understand my vast vocabulary even if it meant I was a disgusting boaster. I often like to count the milliseconds between the end of my sentence and the time it takes them to come up with a decent reply. Only, Bulma was used to this kind of behavior now and her vocabulary was just as impressive as my own so it didn't take her long to reply.
"Trunks wants a party, Bra. Any normal kid would want a party." She stressed the word normal and cast a dark look in my direction. Trunks looked from our mother, to me and backed out of the room, sensing an argument was about to brake out. He had the right idea.
"I am a perfectly sane, healthy and normal child, mother. Like you, I have obtained a vast knowledge of the world around me in an early stage of my life. Unlike you, I have put that knowledge to better use in studying, other than spending my time organizing pointless parties like this one."
"That is it, young lady!" She replied bitterly. "You will go to your brother's birthday in two weeks time, you will help me to prepare for it and we will go shopping for supplies this weekend and we are going to have a lovely time!"
I went shopping with her. But I didn't have a lovely time. I wore my favorite outfit, my oldest jeans and a very old brown T-shirt barring the words 'SOS- Save our solar system!' on the front. Bulma marched along ahead dressed in much more suitable clothes and carrying a handbag bursting with cash.
"What shall we buy first, hmm?" She asked me over her shoulder. "I know! Let's get you a nice new outfit to wear! Something really pretty to bring out the colour in your eyes!"
"Why can't I just wear what I have on now?" I asked her with raised eyebrows and a scowl, a slightly odd combination. Bulma turned to face me and looked me up and down with a look of distaste.
"Because the clothes you have on aren't suitable. Don't worry, my darling daughter, just leave the outfit up to me."
"So I'll just stand around and let you dress me like a doll?" I asked her bitterly. Bulma didn't reply as she had found a clothes shop she liked.
"Oh, this is one of my favorites. Let's have a quick look, shall we?"
It wasn't as if I had a choice. I groaned and followed her inside, grumbling to myself. When Bulma said 'Just a quick look' it usually meant we would stay until we had tried on every outfit in the entire store.
"Oh, here's one you'll like!" Bulma cried triumphantly, producing an emerald green sequined top and a matching black leather mini skirt. "Now doesn't that outfit look nice?"
"Yeah, yeah whatever. Just buy it." I grumbled, wanting to leave here now more than ever.
"Oh no, Bra. You have to try it on."
"Why?"
"Because how will we know if it's your size or not?"
"We can make a rough guess." I suggested hopefully. "Anyway, I thought we were buying party supplies, not clothes. And you know I utterly detest clothes that have been made by slave laborers."
It was the truth. I didn't believe in slave labor and had taken sewing classes in order to make my own clothes to avoid buying clothes which all seemed to be made by slave labors anyway. Only, I discovered later that sewing wasn't exactly my area of great strength.
"We should get you some nice new bras as well." Bulma said, entirely delighted as we made our way to a changing cubicle.
Oh great, I could live up to my namesake. I snatched the clothes away from my mother and slammed the door of the cubicle shut with such force, the walls around me rattled threateningly. I ripped my own clothes over my head and stuffed myself into the outfit.
I had to admit when I stared into my own reflection, I didn't look as bad as I would have thought. The top was pulled unusually tight against my body to show my figure better. Bulma had given me the size smaller so my belly button showed a little. The skirt, also a size too small, sat on my hips and didn't reach as far down as I would have liked. But like Bulma had said it would, the colours made my misty green eyes appear larger and brighter than usual. My teal green hair, which sat tidily at chest level, was glossier and softer than it had appeared before.
"Bra, can I come in and look?" Bulma asked from outside the door.
"If you want to be incredibly horrified than you may." I yelled in reply, not removing my eyes from the reflection in the mirror.
Bulma burst through the door and gasped, turning me around to face her and inspecting me with a glint of pride glowing in her eyes. The same glint of pride she showed whenever I received top marks in a test.
"Oh Bra, my darling!" She cooed, pulling me into a slightly uncomfortable hug. "You look so grown up!"
"Yeah, thanks Mum." I said dully, pushing her away from me. "Ok then, let's get it and get out of here."
"We have to buy you some shoes as well, and a little handbag to match. And we simply must get you hair done...." Bulma mumbled to herself, her mind drifting elsewhere.
"Alright, we will. But first, can you do one thing for me?"
"Yes dear?" She answered sweetly.
"GET OUT!" I bellowed and Bulma jumped backwards in shock, allowing me to shut the door and change back into my regular, fifteen year old self.
We walked back through the rest of the shops, buying matching black high heels that I would most likely take off after the first five minutes, a black handbag I would never use anyway and a whole bag of makeup I completely refused to wear. Bulma also booked me in for a hairdresser appointment on Saturday afternoon, just before the party. I mental picture of myself dressed up like an eighteen year old, standing with a group of blondes and trying to get the attention of some older guy flashed into my mind and I shuddered at the thought.
"You'll be the most beautiful girl there." Bulma stated admirably. "The one all the boys will want to dance with."
"I strongly doubt that." I muttered. "And you seem to have forgotten the whole point of this shopping trip. We didn't buy a present for Trunks OR arrange any party decorations at all!"
"Oh they'll be time for that later." Bulma replied airily. "What do you think he would want? Music? Computer games? Sport things?"
I shrugged. "I don't think he'd care if he got cow dung, Mum. The only thing Trunks cares about on his birthday is having a party."
"You're right, Bra. We should put our effort into his party and give him something simple for a present. Maybe some money he can spend on something he wants. What do you think?"
"I think it's time to go home." I replied, unable to stand waiting around the shops any longer. I grabbed my mother by the wrist and marched her to the car park.
"Oh you're no fun." Bulma said jokingly.
"I know." I replied dismissively and pulled her to the car.