Disclaimer: I do not own Sylar/Gabriel Grey, any brand names used unless specified otherwise, or the concept of the mall or contest.
Here's my other entry for avatarjk137's "A Winner Is You!" challenge, Sylar/Gabriel Grey from Heroes. To read more about the contest, go to avatarjk137 and his forum.
Gabriel Grey gave a slight smile as he sat on a cheap fake-wood chair in the middle of the otherwise-empty food court. Though there weren't supposed to be staff members manning the food court, the McDonald's somehow had a set of employees available anyway. Maybe they came with the store, like stoves and deep fryers? Gabriel shoved another spoonful of vanilla soft-serve in his mouth before he tilted his baseball cap-clad head all the way back to look up at the enormous dome ceiling, eighty stories up. This place is incredible. It really is… special. You knew he was serious – Gabriel was not one to use the word 'special' lightly. This trait especially presented itself in how this tournament was making him somewhat angry. He was supposed to be here fighting people who were special, just like him. But it was turning out to be a joke.
His smile faded and (charmingly) thick, dark eyebrows furrowed as his memory jolted back to why he was here when some teen girl he had seen at the orientation walked into the food court's vicinity. She appeared to be checking out the stores, stopping in front of the hugest Louis Vuitton store she had ever seen, hunger gleaming in her well-made-up eyes as she stared at the latest bag collection. He hated people he had seen like her. Gabriel was under the impression that he would be fighting the best of the best. The most powerful. What if he ended up fighting someone like her? To him, this contest had lied – the people here weren't so powerful, they were just so weird. There's a DIFFERENCE, they should know. And they call these people special. It's disgusting!! Please. A rich girl. I saw some Goth girl, too. Some kid with a straw hat and a stupid smile. Maybe there are some special people here, but care they honestly useful to me? A demon made of chocolate. Don't make me laugh; something out of some psychotic kid's fantasy. He swallowed his latest spoonful of ice cream hard.
Angrily he dug back into his plastic cup with his matching plastic spoon, only to realize there was no ice cream left. Gabriel sighed, pushed the brim of his cap back down a bit, and got up, throwing out the cup and spoon. He stuck his hands in his jeans and stalked off from the food court, a smile spreading across his face once again. So what if he was the most 'special' thing to happen to this tournament? He would just have to make the most of the hand he's dealt with. And though that may not be the most appealing way to describe it, he decided to think more positively. I'll find a way to get SOMETHING out of this tournament. And I'm sure I'll be having a little fun on the way.