1/6/07 4:37 AM
The mind of one deranged wannabe-author.
Sup. This is based on actual events from my teens. The names have been changed to protect the innocent... and the not-so-innocent. This story contains coarse language. Readers under the age of eighteen are encouraged to get the fuck out.
This is the first fan fic I have worked on since the winter of 2005. It will probably suck and never be finished, like all but one of my previous works. Don't hate, as you are all physically incapable of it. No one can hate me. I'm the fucking author! Love me, worship me, whatever.
I don't own Evangelion, any of its plot, stock, anything to do with GAiNAX or related companies, or even any of the characters portrayed herein, but I will horribly misuse them and butcher their personalities to my liking. This is AU and you'll either like it or stop reading right about... now.
Anyway, enjoy!
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AN EVANGELION OTHERWORLDS PRODUCTION
SERANOV INDUSTRIES PRESENTS
THE POSSE
written by AN Seranov
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VISIT ZERO - MALLRATS PRESENT
As I look back on it, those were the best days of my life. I had no car, no girlfriend, no money, and no ambition. I was a young punk with nothing to lose. I had two things in life that made me happy: my friends...
And my mall.
My name is Shinji. I was a mallrat. And I am damn proud of it.
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Friday July 21st, 2000
Freedom. Glorious, glorious freedom. School is out for summer, and I intend to take full advantage of it. Tonight, we would start it off right. We would do what we had done every Friday since junior high.
We would hit up the mall.
Now, you may ask yourselves, "Why would a high-school guy and his friends want to go to the mall every Friday night?" and you'd probably come up with a few answers. Girls. Shopping. Whatever.
You'd be wrong. We went because it was our turf. Our home away from home. Our hang-out. Not to say we never bought anything, nor check out the ladies, because we did. We're normal guys, after all. Well, as normal as one can be, nowadays, at least.
We are mallrats.
You don't know what mallrats are? Didn't you see the movie, or has the underside of that rock been too interesting? A mallrat is a guy who, for lack of anything better to do, hangs out at the mall. We wander aimlessly for awhile, bothering people and looking for fun shit to do. We usually travel in groups, as it's fucking pathetic to be walking around a mall by yourself. We're our own little society. We have classes and cliques and all that stupid crap. There are the stoners, the emo kids, the preppies and the nerds. The druggies, the twelve-year-olds, the wiggers, and all the other groups we broke up into. And then there was Touji, Kensuke and me. We were the top of the bottom. The highest of the low. We had an extended crew that could number into the double-digits on any given night, but it was usually just us.
Every Friday, we would get rides to the mall, and we would wander about until closing. Then we would do whatever the hell we felt like. But enough of this. On to the matters at hand.
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I hop into my friend Ichiro's car. He's in college now, so he doesn't have time to hang out with us much anymore. He still drives me to the mall though. Always has to rub in which amazingly hot girl he's going on a date with after he drops me off. Can't say I believe him half the time, but he's always been a good guy, so I just nod. Ichiro was my lab partner in my freshman chemistry class. He was a senior, and always told the best stories. Also gave me the nickname that's stuck with me to this day.
We pull up to the mall and I wish him luck. I hop out, closing the door behind me. People everywhere. Yeah, this is my environment. I decide to do a lap as I wait for the other guys to get there, but first, an inspection, to make sure I'm ready for tonight.
Hoodie? Check. My favorite one, grey with red lettering. Beanie? Check. Black. Wallet with barely enough cash for food and maybe a movie? Check. Fifteen dollars and forty-three cents. Phone? Check. Crappy little thing, but it does its job.
Yep, I'm good to go. Off to the adventure.
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Now, you're probably wondering what one does on "a lap." Well, you walk. That's pretty much it. It's taking a walk around the mall once.
Why would I do that? Well what else was I supposed to do? I don't smoke, so hanging out by the exits is not exactly a viable option. So I wander. Kensuke and Touji usually show up around the same time, near the food court. Ah, that place is a haven for our kind. About a dozen places to get stupidly-priced fast-food that was PERFECT for growing bodies and all that kinda shit.
About halfway through my first lap, I see one of the security guards. Rent-a-cops, we call them. Not real police, or even really effectual at all, they just wander around, trying to scare people from doing anything hilarious.
Or stupid. Take your pick.
I keep walking. Most of the guards knew who I was, and since I tended to be the one watching people doing stupid shit, as opposed to being the one DOING the stupid shit, they rarely bothered me. Suited me just fine. As I approach the food court, I take a look around, and sure enough, there are Touji and Kensuke walking, looking around as if they were worried someone'd see them.
"Oi! Ken! T! Over here!" They nearly jump as I call out to them. Yeah, they've been up to shit again. They realize it's me and walk over.
"'Sup Soop." Kensuke greets me. That's the extremely shortened version of my nickname. Most people couldn't be bothered to call you "Superbaka," after all. Maybe I'll get around to explaining that one sometime. Touji nods his welcome.
"So, why do you two look like you've been into some shit already?"
"No reason. You just get here?" Touji answers.
"Yep. Ichiro dropped me off. Says he's taking another girl out tonight. Five bucks says her name's Lefty, though."
They chuckle. Kensuke puts a hand on my shoulder and smiles. "I'd be in on that if it weren't most of what I have on me."
"Well shit, you've probably got more than I do." Touji smirks as he finishes. Our general lack of funds was nothing new, just the same-ol'-same-ol'. He takes a look around, and his look darkens. "Shit. It's Corporal Makoto."
"Where?" Kensuke looks worried, and follows Touji's gaze. I wonder what they've done this time. I turn and look where they are staring. Sure enough, there he was.
I'll make this clear before I continue. Corporal Makoto Hyuuga is NOT a corporal. I'm pretty sure he isn't ranked at all. But he was the part-time rent-a-cop we were most familiar with. He's actually only a year older than the rest of us, but that badge gave him a power we didn't have.
Hell if we knew what that power was, but we never gave him shit. He was cool, and that was that. So he walks up to us, like always, and says hey.
"Yo," we chorus. Same as always. Suddenly, he seems to notice something. He pulls a notepad out of a pocket and reads it over.
"Have you guys seen these two guys around? One's about 5'6", got glasses and blond hair, wearing a blue hoodie and some black jeans, and the other's about 5'9", black hair, and wearing a black t-shirt and blue jeans?" he asks, maintaining some 'official-ness' as he asks us.
I sigh. The two of them shake their heads no. "Nope, haven't seen anyone like that, Corporal Makoto," I add. He grunts. He HATES being called corporal. I'm pretty sure that's why we do it.
"Alright. If you see them, tell me, a'ight?" We nod. He walks away, off to ask more people.
"Okay, what happened?" My friends smile boldly at me.
"What ever do you mean, Soop?"
"Why did Makoto just describe you guys to us?"
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PRESENT
Yeah, those were the days. Days where I wasn't worried about anything except the money in my wallet and the time on my phone. The days I spent with my idiot friends. Good times. Good times.
END VISIT ZERO.
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Author's Note:
This was written in about an hour and a half in MS notepad, while I was/am suffering from a random bout of insomnia. It IS actually based on something that happened to me and my friends while mallratting one night. This fic will probably be a bunch of random one-shots about my various exploits at the mall when I was younger. Expect gross mischaracterization and the like. Why am I even bothering? "It's not Eva!" Well no shit, but I felt like adding a little Eva flair to my youth. Shoot me. I'm as entitled to write bad fanfiction as the next guy, damnit! There is little to no editting, and this was most certainly not preread. This is all me, being terrible as always.
Anyway, this is it. Don't expect anything more, as it'll probably never come, but hey! Miracles happen... sometimes.
Until next time,
Alexei Seranov
P.S.: Don't fucking ask about WotS or any other fanfic I may have written, because I've given up on actual serious fanfiction writing. This is just for kicks.