Just a revamp of New Bones in Your Closet
Special thanks to Wheatley's Shadow for helping me get this started again.
Still a collab between Tiffany and I, hopefully we can finish this time XD anyways read and review and enjoy!
Chapter 1~ The Princess and the Pauper
The young blonde woman smirked as she admired herself in the full length mirror. Her parents were holding another dinner party and being the spoiled little rich girl she was. she HAD to make sure she wore the most elegant dress there.
It was an expensive one and when her father saw the price tag his eyes almost popped out the sockets. Even though he was one of the wealthiest men in the country, it still was a lot to be paying for a gown she was most likely only going to wear once.
But alas, he bought it after seeing how beautiful she looked in it. It was a champagne laced dress that flowed down to the floor, hiding her shoes. It had a v-neck, but since her chest was fairly small, it showed nothing, the sides and sleeves were laces making the dress unique from her many other gowns.
"Miss Chestnut do you need anymore assistance?" asked a maid.
The blonde shook her head and smiled. "Don't I look beautiful."
"You always do darling," the maid responded before exiting her room.
Her name was Marron Chestnut, daughter of Krillin Chestnut, the famous doctor who invented insulin, and June Chesnut, a very successful model and play and movie actress. Marron lived the life of a princess; multiple mansions, beach houses, multiple cars, and all the fashion a sixteen year old could ask for and more. She had the lifestyle of a princess and a personality of one too. She was kind, forgiving, loving, and had a heart of gold. At times she could be a bit bratty, but who wasn't.
But being a rich child in Upstate New York had its flaws. She had to look and be perfect at all times. Marron recalled when her mother had spanked her because she had misbehaved during an interview on the radio. Marron had to be watched constantly and had her friends chosen from her. The teenage blonde was told from a young age, that she couldn't associate with the 'poor dirty people'. She strongly disagreed with her parents though, but never protested.
Since her parents were awfully busy she was shipped off to a Catholic Boarding School for six years of her life. June wanted to make sure her daughter learned what she needed to do to be a proper lady and got a decent amount of education. And that's what the blonde did, she learned to never interrupt a conversation between men, how to clean properly, and how to cook .For the most part, she hated it but never acted out on her hatred or complained. All they did was learn about God (the only part she found interesting) and learned out to be a proper wife. Women were expected to cook, clean, be pretty, and bare babies. What about going to college and starting a career? What if she chose not to marry, and live her life as a successful woman with many cats, why does that make her less of a woman?
"Marron hurry up the guest will be arriving shortly!"
"Yes mother!" The perky girl called out, glancing at her reflection one last time.
Marron shuffled over to her make up table, sat down in the chair and began applying her makeup, humming a song as she did so. It wasn't long before she finished and started to comb her shoulder length hair. She longed to get a bob like the other girls, after all, it was the 20's and girls everywhere were sporting the bob. She knew the controversy, that women with short hair were hideous and, but the women who did it were considered feminist, people who stood for women's rights. Her father refused to let her cut her hair though, saying the flapper girls were middle-classed whores with now sense of morals and were damned to hell. She also remembered him stating that they were most likely lesbians his reasoning being that they all had figures of boys and short hair. Marron often found herself daydreaming what it would have been like to been a flapper girl. She would image her long blond locs hitting the hair salon tiled floor. Marron would look in the mirror and poof, she'd magically appear in a jazz bar, the horn blaring and the drums making a hip and fast beats. A cig would be in one hand and a liquor bottle in the other. She would be free and alive. Sadly it was only in her imagination, and while she longed to modern girl, she didn't mind her old-fashioned lifestyle.
The teen pulled her hair into a bun in the back and slipped a headband on. Before getting up she put on her diamond necklace and matching earrings. "LIfe is perfect just the way it is Marron," she told herself with a slight smile on her face as if she were forcing herself to believe it.
"Are you ready sister?"
Marron turned around and met a pair of sky blue eyes, just like hers.
"Yes Preston." She answered as she got up and walked over to him. "You look quite handsome little brother."
The dirty blonde boy grinned. "Thanks Mar." he was wearing a white button down shirt with a black tie and vest over it, his black slacks were ironed perfectly, and his black shoes were shining. "Miz Ida helped me pick it out."
The nine-year-old grabbed his sister's hand and together they walked down the hall and made their grand entrance. It was two hours into the party before it was time to eat. Usually at any other dinner party Marron would be sitting at the children's table, listening to her cousins and brother bicker, but her father had insisted she sit next to him. Sitting at the grown up table has been her wish since she was ten. She wanted to know the latest gossip and give her opinion on politics.
Marron had never been more wrong in her life: sitting at the adult table was dull. Marron tried to keep herself from falling asleep, listening to the uninteresting conversation that was being held and classical music made her wasn't helping her stay awake. To keep herself alive she hummed a jazz tune in her head. She was fourteen when she discovered jazz and she instantly fell in love with it once she heard it. The way the instruments played together making the swanky beat made her dance every time.
Sometimes, when her parents weren't home she would turn on the radio and dance to it. One of her dreams was to dance in a club to jazz music, but her parents restricted her from going to parties of such. They believed it would brainwash her and eventually she'd turn into a flapper. Nevertheless, she still would shake her rump in the privacy of her room.
"Marron do you hear your father speaking to you?" Her mother hissed, yet remained the phony smile on her face.
"Sorry Daddy." Marron apologized sheepishly.
"It's alright darling, I wanted to introduce you into one of my interns Idasa. Idasa meet my lovely daughter Marron," her father introduced.
The young man held out his hand and Marron grabbed ahold of it. "Pleasure to meet ya," he said with his deep southern accent.
Marron flashed him one of her heart warming smiles. "Nice to meet you as well Mr. Idasa."
Idasa chuckled. "I'm only twenty-three darling, just call me Idasa."
About an hour later, Marron turned to her father; "Daddy, I'm getting a bit tired, may I be excused to my room?"
Krillin nodded to his daughter and Marron got up from the table. Marron wasn't tired at all, she just wanted to get out of that boring party, besides, she had other plans that night. She made her way to the stairs as the classical music grew louder. People begun to crowd the dance floor and sway to the soft tune. Marron began to walk the stairs, but was stopped as she felt a cold hand grasp her wrist. She turned around to meet the man she met earlier.
"Idasa," Marron said bowing a bit. SHe hated that she was expected to be so polite and gentle, if she could, she would have kicked him where it really hurts for grabbing her. "May I help you with anything?"
"I'd like to have one dance with ya Marron," Idasa said. "Would you like to dance?"
Marron sighed, she didn't want to, but she was taught never to turn down an invitation such as this. She nodded politely and accepted his offer. Idasa led her to the dance floor and Marron rested her hand on his shoulder while he rested his hand on her hip. They swayed along to the soft tune in silence.
'One day, I'll be dancing to my favorite jazz song with my Prince'
"Let...Let me g-get another one," slurred an obviously drunk man, holding his shaking hand out to the bartender.
"You already had enough mac, why dontcha head on back to home before I call the security," The bartender growled. The last thing he needed was puke all over his bar. And it was always kids like him that started bar fights which always ended in the police coming to check things out. The bartender would be damn if he got put in jail because of some sloppy drunk started a fight in his bar. Selling alcohol in a time when it's banned is a hard business but it always paid the bills.
The drunk man groaned and slipped off the stool. As soon as his feet touched the ground he almost fell over. "Butt me," he commanded in a snarky tone.
The bartender rolled his eyes and sighed, handing the man a cigarette. "Now scam Kid."
The man snatched it out of his hand and pushed his lavender locks behind his ear. Trunks pulled out his lighter from his slack's pockets and lit his cigarette. With a scowl he left the bar and walked over to the phone booth which took longer than usually since he lost his balance every other step.
Once again it was a tiresome day at work, the delivery truck had broken down a quarter of the way through his route, meaning he had to deliver everything on foot. He was miles beyond exhausted, and even more so than usual, wanted to drink until he was out cold.
"Hello?"
"Pan s-send Goten to the bar." His attempts to sound 'normal' ended in complete and utter failure, with his words slurring more than ever as he spoke. While he tried to make himself appear as in-control as possible, his execution ended up completely different, giving the image of a raving drunk to the woman on the other end of the phone.
"Are you drunk again? Trunks drinking is illegal, if the police catch you, they're going to take you to jail!" a highly concerned voice exclaimed. From her tone, it was very clear that she had dealt with a situation like this many times in the past, possibly far too many to keep track of anymore, as evident by her not really trying to convince him to stop.
"Ju-just sent Goten here," Trunks said before attempting to slam the phone down, only to miss the receiver and nearly end up putting the phone through the glass backing of the booth. "Damn broad." he mumbled as he leaned against the wall. "I'll drink if I want to. What does someone like her know about me and my day? If she wants me to stop, she can lecture me AFTER putting in a twelve hour shift in the freezing cold."
Trunks Briefs was well-known in the Bronx. By day, he was a hard-working man who pushed his mind and body to their very limits, taking on shift after shift of a low-wage job just to keep himself and his girlfriend above water. By night however, he was king of the bar, using whatever energy he had left from the day's work to give himself the good time he needed. He could turn any dull scene to an exciting, chaotic party, something that brought him a great deal of respect from the owners of the various speakeasies that were scattered throughout the city. He was also a well-known ladies man, having his fair share of illicit affairs, despite his involvement with Pan. In fact, he was only really calling her at this time because he had no one else to be with tonight, the girl he had originally planned on going home with being taken by some ritzy upper class guy.
After what only felt like a few seconds to the intoxicated man, a voice could be heard nearby. It was male, and he was saying something to Trunks, something that wasn't really understood by the lavender haired man the first time it was said.
"Trunks, can you even understand me? Pan is furious."
A raven haired young man walked up to Trunks, putting his hand on the drunk's shoulder to give him a little support in case he were to fall down. Just like his intoxicated friend, he was wearing a typical work uniform, consisting of a pair of rather torn and faded jeans, with a brown jacket over his shirt to keep him warm as he searched for Trunks in the cold fall night.
Trunks put his cigarette butt to his lips and took a long drag before exhaling the smoke. He lazily dropped it to the ground afterwards, putting it out with a single clumsy stomp.
"Whatever, just take me home. I'm freezing my ass off out here, and I know Pan's just gonna become more of a bitch as we wait."
The black-haired man sighed as he went to his friend's side, putting Trunks's arm over his shoulder and his own around the man in order to keep him standing as they walked. "You have to stop doing this to yourself T. It's really breaking you."
The purple haired man scowled, giving his friend a halfhearted, uncaring look, followed by an equally dry response. "Piss off Goten. "
The two young men eventually arrived at the run down apartment. They got a few looks from passersby as they went down the sidewalk, but most of them were from people who knew Trunks, either acquaintances from work or pals that had been met over a bottle of whiskey. They slowly made their way up the creaking wooden staircase to the fourth floor of the tenement building, before opening the door and stumbling into the room. Their home was rather unimpressive to look at, with the vast majority of the furniture consisting of hand me downs from family or friends, as well as merchandise stolen from the flea market after-hours in exchange for a small fee. Pan had tried her best to make the house look decent, but it was hard when you barely made enough money to put food on the table.
Goten laid his drunk friend on the couch and sighed once again, shaking his head in disappointment as he went to the kitchen to finish off the mug of coffee that he had left on the counter when he went to go find Trunks.
"Trunks this is getting old!" screeched his girlfriend as she came stalking into the room, right as Goten left. "You need to stop all this drinking so you can get a better job! "
Trunks lazily nodded in response as he dozed off his head falling limply to the side once he fully passed out.
"He's not listening." Goten pointed out, sticking his head out from the kitchen door. "Also, cold coffee is not good whatsoever, just pointing that out."
Pan wiped a tear that cascaded down her cheeks. "I know." she sighed as she turned around and headed for the kitchen to prepare the meal that she had been waiting all day to make.
She had known Trunks all her life, since he was her older brother's best friend. She developed a crush on him when she was twelve and he was sixteen, keeping it a secret until she turned nineteen and confessed when they were both drunk off their asses.
A relationship was formed after that night, with one side caring far more than the other from day one. Pan moved in with the best friends and everything was going perfectly. It wasn't until last year when things started going downhill for the trio, the economy was starting to go bad and Goten and Trunks were laid off their job.
They were out of work for three months and Pan had to practically work all day to pay half the bills. Trunks and Pan would argue non stop about money during this time, mainly about the fact that he would spend part of their already limited budget on alcohol and tobacco. She thought about going back home with her family but she always opted not to, because she believed things would get better for her and Trunks. If only she had known the truth, maybe she would have pulled herself out of this sooner. If only she had known the full extent of Trunks's actions, that the nights where he claimed he was "sleeping it off at Wilson's" had really consisted of another meaningless affair with some blonde he had met at the bar, and that nearly every call was made with one hand on the phone and the other resting lazily on some whore's ass. Sadly for her though, none of this was known, as Trunks was never honest about it, and she hadn't gotten out of the house enough to really know that side of her boyfriend's reputation. These times were very difficult, and the little 'family' had to make the best of their lives. However, if word got out as to what was actually happening, the lives of all three of them would fall even further down than they already were.