The Sun
Chapter 1
You know there are millions of things that attract a woman to a man. Some are the right reasons and some are the wrong reasons, but what happens when you forget the definitions between the two? Well, it's almost like seeing the perfection of heaven then being banished to the fiery hells of damnation. The end I mean. When you find out you were attracted to him for the wrong reasons, and he doesn't satisfy you like you thought he would. When you thought he walked on water but found he sank like sand. When you love him no matter what, but still remain unhappy. When he hurts you and you can't help but take it because you're still blinded by the pretense of perfection you find in him. When you finally see the light to his way, see him as the defective specimen of the male race that is his. Even when only you can see the potential he might have. You can't explain the heart break that shatters your world. You don't even know who you are anymore. When he puts you down only to build you back up, when he breaks you only to make you perfect again. There are thousands, millions of stories similar to my own, but all those other women and all those other men are nothing like me, Pan Son or like him, Trunks Briefs. Our story, my story is one of love, foolishness, pain, misconception, realization, and rebuilding. It all started so long ago I barely realized what was happening. I was young and impressionable, but most of all I admired him in all his perfection, loved him in all his perfection. Now I realize he is like the sun, painful to look at but far to mesmerizing to look away, warm at first but after long exposure leaves you pained and burned. But the sun also brings new life as well as can rejuvenate old life. He is so . . . like the sun.
I have known Trunks my entire life. He was like an uncle or brother or something for a long time. He is fourteen years my senior and my prince. You see we're hybrids he and I, a mix of human and Saiyan genes. The Saiyans... well I'm sure you all know that part of the story. I need not repeat our history.
Where was I? Oh, my prince Trunks, I admired him for as long as I could remember, but it wasn't until I spent so much time in space with him that he became eternally present. Actually that didn't last long as long as I realized my foolishness of liking him. The first time it was just an infatuation.
Teenagers are so impressionable, everybody knows that. As I aged, I matured and came to terms that he was untouchable and that you never fell in love with your best friend. Besides, he was seeing a different girl every night, each more beautiful and exotic than I could have ever hoped to be or become. I was a fighter, rough and untamed. Trunks was my best friend, always by my side. So instead of realizing I was falling in love with Trunks, to me he became the example every other guy was compared to. Obviously, no one has been or ever will be Trunks Briefs, but if you can't have the original you can try to find the next closest to his perfection.
There were actually a few that came pretty close. Some had the blue eyes that haunted my dreams, and some had the voice with the pitch that echoed in my mind when it was left to wonder. Some of them held me with the strong arms that I imagined Trunks possessed. A couple looked at me with the piecing blue eyes that sent my head spinning. Some had his millions as much as that mattered. Still, you know as well as I, all of them failed in comparison to Trunks because Trunks was the epitome of perfection, simply flawless, at least to me, but then he always was and I thought he always would be.
Trunks and I were friends, always had been. Any problem I had, I took to him and he helped me through it, forever my knight in shining armor. When I was younger and everyone picked on me because I was short, he reminded me that I was stronger than everyone of those kids, that I was Saiyan and to be proud of that. Later, when I couldn't understand physics, he tutored me, even though he was busy at Capsule. When I became a party girl, he was always the one I called for a ride home or an alibi to tell my parents. He always pulled through for me, because he was perfect, you know. Even when I burst into his office in tears, holding a letter from Harvard that told me I was placed on the waiting list, he calmed me, made one phone call, and saved the day as he passed the phone to me to talk to the admissions office. Trunks could do anything. He was perfect.
After college, mother and father said it was time to settle down, get a good job, and make it on my own. I was afraid of what they really meant. I felt like they were telling me that they were no longer going to be there for me at all. I knew in my mind, I could get along very will without their finical support, but I was afraid. So, like every other time in my life, I called on my perfect Trunks.
He laughed at me. Not in a condescending sort of way, rather he was very amused that I was afraid. He explained to me that I'd gone to Harvard; I could have just about any job I wanted even higher than entry level; I could even work for him if I wanted. Unlike my parents, I realized Trunks would never abandon me, no matter how old or mature I became, he'd still try to protect me. I was very foolish in my understanding of my parents wishes, and I suppose, looking back, I was foolish in understanding Trunks. Trunks was far too perfect to be understood.
A few years past, and I was promoted to the head of marketing as well as to the board of trustees for Capsule Corp. Trunks assured me that he had nothing to do with it, and I actually knew that he didn't. The head of marketing was retiring, leaving his job as well as the seat on the board open. My former supervisor admired my work and always told me he saw great things in my future. I'm sure he's surprised how correct he was now.
When I was promoted, I started to spend more time with Trunks presenting new ideas and getting his approval. He'd often tell me that he was so glad I was there. He'd confide in me how he was so miserable with his life, and seeing me, having me around made things better. Knowing that he felt that way made me happy beyond words. I felt that maybe, if he let me, I could try to repay him for all the times in my life that he made me feel better, that he brought me out of despair, and set my feet on the stone again. I guess I thought I owed him that much, but also, he was my very best friend, and I wanted to do anything in my power to make him happy, not matter what it was. He deserved to be happy, couldn't he realize how perfect he was?
I was called into his office more and more. I'm sure rumors spread around the office like wildfire. It was to be expected, but nothing ever happened between us. He'd call me in, ask me how things were going, and then he'd breakdown tell me all his problems. Sometimes it was questions that had to do with the company. Other times, he wanted relationship advice. I'd give the best guidance I could as well as a few assuring hugs. He'd laugh at how right I was. Sometimes he'd joke about how he'd have to start paying me to be his personal therapist. We'd laugh and that was that. What we talked about never left his office, and we were both better for it. I'd never let anyone know that Trunks was about to break down from the pressure of his job, or was almost to the point of insanity with all of the frivolous women he still chose to date. He was the Saiyan Prince. I would have done all in my power to help him keep all his royal perfect pride intact.
It was a Monday morning, I remember not wanting to go to work that day. I knew I wouldn't get in trouble, and all the marketing reports had been finished two days ago. I picked up the phone at my bedside and called in sick for the first time in my five years of employment. My secretary said she'd take care of things as best she could and wish me well. I smiled and replaced the phone on the charger. After I'd been back to sleep for about an hour, the phone rang again. It was Capsule, the caller ID clearly displayed. With a groan, I picked it up. It was Trunks, calling to make sure I was okay. He explained that my assistant told him I was sick, and he was worried. How cute, no? He was worried. I smiled. I'm sure if he could have seen me he would have laughed. I told him that I thought I'd be much better by tomorrow. He seemed glad then said that he needed to talk to me sometime today. I told him to come over after work and I'd make dinner. He said he'd come, but would bring dinner. He'd feel bad making a sick woman cook for him.
It was seven by the time he'd made it to my house. I answered the door with a huge grin. The first words out of his mouth were "You weren't sick." I laughed and pulled him in. We had dinner. I tried to get an idea of what was wrong by dancing around the issue at hand with safe questions. I asked about his sister, his parents, if he had a good day at work. Everything was of course fine. He helped me clear everything away. Then we sat down in my living room.
I looked at him and bluntly asked what he wanted to talk about. A silence fell. It was so eerie. With our keen hearing we could hear every single running appliance. It seemed like I could hear the dust fall. Then he spoke. "I'm old, Pan." I'm sure he could barely read the expression on my face. I wanted to laugh, but knew I shouldn't. I told him that he was only... "Only 42." He finished for me. Was he that old? He certainly didn't look it. He still looked perfect, still was perfect. I want to comfort him. I wanted that look of pain to leave his eyes forever.
He began to tell me that his life was such a joke. He always felt that he was living in his mother's shadow, even now when she had been retired more than ten years. He told me how empty he felt. Trunks expressed that he was lonely. He said he realized that he should have settled down long ago, should have started seeing the right girl long ago. Now, he was sure that all the women interested in him weren't after him at all. It was his money they wanted.
I remember taking a moment to collect my thoughts. This was serious, very serious. He watched me with such hope. I believe he expected me to say the words that would save his soul. However, on some levels I knew he was right. How does one tell their best friend that options are pretty slim and he just might have to settle for less than perfect? It wasn't right because Trunks was sooo perfect. If I couldn't give him answers I'd at least try to give him hope. I took his hand and I had no idea what I was going to say, but somehow the words just began to pour out of my mouth like water.
I told him that there would always be the right girl out there. That now was just a good of time as any to find her. I told him, whether he realized it or not, he was as good as or better than his mother. I assured him that his mother was so proud of what he'd done with Capsule. I wanted to tell him he was perfect, but it didn't feel right. So, I told him he was important to me. He was my best friend, and I loved him. I comforted him, told him that if he ever felt empty I'd be glad to fill him again as best I could. I watched his eyes through my entire speech. The pain never left like I had hoped it would, but his eyes filled with question, like he was pondering something that deserved his utmost attention. I was hoping he was taking everything I said to heart because I meant every word. After I had finished he pulled me in a hug so tight I was sure if he didn't let go I'd suffocate.
However, being that close to him was unreal, beyond anything I'd ever experienced in my entire life. I realized all those other men who had ever held me were severely lacking and always would be compared to my perfect Trunks. When he finally eased his hold on me to a soft embrace, I began to drown in the smell of him. I also found that I had been right so many years ago. His arms were so strong I felt untouchable in his embrace. Still holding on to me, he asked how I became so smart in my young age. I informed him that I was getting old, too. He laughed and then agreed that I was. I pulled back and smacked his face indignantly. He just smiled brightly as anger danced in my eyes, and I informed him he was not supposed to agree with that statement. Still he laughed and hugged me again. Then the conversation took a turn to where I never thought it would go with Trunks. He asked me about my own personal life. Something I had forgotten to think about for a few years at that point. I had unknowingly dedicated everything to Trunks and Capsule. If he couldn't be my life directly, I had made him so indirectly.
"Pan, why aren't you seeing anybody? Don't you get lonely?" He asked with such a caring tone in his voice. Then it hit me. I wasn't lonely because I hadn't found anyone to match Trunks yet. I didn't try to see anyone because everyone was a disappointment compared to the man that was holding me right now. Of course, I couldn't tell Trunks that. Still, I panicked at my own realization. His perfection had caused me to forfeit all belief in other males. I'd never be happy with anyone other than Trunks. I'm sure he felt me stiffen in his arms as I that thought passed through my mind. Finally, I gave a reply. I told him that was too concerned and dedicated to the job to worry about making time for someone else. It was partially true, after all. I mean I couldn't very well tell him that I was too in love with his perfection to accept another man.
"But you aren't lonely?" he asked again. Apparently, he knew that deep down I was. I admitted that I was, lonely for him ,I added mentally, but when I thought about the men I'd already came into contact with, I thought being lonely was a lot better than being broken hearted again. He agreed with me, but reminded me that the right guy was out there then added, with a laugh, he continued to say he and I should start looking for these right people before they find each other and leave us out in the cold. My mouth moved without checking with my mind first and said "Well then you and I will just have to get together won't we?" As realization came to me, I wanted to crawl in a hole and die. In the current situation of being in his arms still, I used the only survival mechanism I had. I started to chuckle like it was all a joke.
He pulled back slightly and looked down on me. I expected him to laugh or maybe be a little creeped out. Nothing could have prepared for me the softness of his eyes or the gentleness of his smile. Nothing could have stopped my brain from shutting down at the words that followed. "Would that be so bad?" We just looked at each other for ages. I went into some sort of trance, not fully aware of anything anymore. But before I fell into a stupor I remember seeing fear in his eyes, fear that I could also feel in my heart. Trunks was too perfect, wasn't he? I heard him speak but have no idea what he said. Then his lips touched mine in an unsure timid sort of way. Nothing like I ever thought Trunks' kisses would be like, but there was still a small spark from the contact. My hand went to the back of his neck and pulled his lips more securely to mine. He responded with the fiery passion I knew his kisses should possess. I felt his body, hard, and all around me. I drowned in his scent a million times. I felt his hunger for me, lowly me, and it only added to my hunger for him and the perfection I always felt was taboo and all buy untouchable. Everything felt so good, so warm, and so perfect. Then again I was kissing Trunks and he after all was perfect in every single way.
That fiery kiss of passion started my life, with what I believed to be my always perfect Trunks. Funny how we blind ourselves in hopes of never having to admit we might be wrong. Funny how we're more aware of our own faults then those around us. Funny how one can let her admiration of one person captivate her entire life. Funny how once she experiences heaven she discovers there's a hell. Funny how my always perfect Trunks would teach me each of these facts without even realizing it. I suppose that would be the only flaw in my simply perfect Trunks.
You know there are millions of things that attract a woman to a man. Some are the right reasons and some are the wrong reasons, but what happens when you forget the definitions between the two? Well, it's almost like seeing the perfection of heaven then being banished to the fiery hells of damnation. The end I mean. When you find out you were attracted to him for the wrong reasons, and he doesn't satisfy you like you thought he would. When you thought he walked on water but found he sank like sand. When you love him no matter what, but still remain unhappy. When he hurts you and you can't help but take it because you're still blinded by the pretense of perfection you find in him. When you finally see the light to his way, see him as the defective specimen of the male race that is his. Even when only you can see the potential he might have. You can't explain the heart break that shatters your world. You don't even know who you are anymore. When he puts you down only to build you back up, when he breaks you only to make you perfect again. There are thousands, millions of stories similar to my own, but all those other women and all those other men are nothing like me, Pan Son or like him, Trunks Briefs. Our story, my story is one of love, foolishness, pain, misconception, realization, and rebuilding. It all started so long ago I barely realized what was happening. I was young and impressionable, but most of all I admired him in all his perfection, loved him in all his perfection. Now I realize he is like the sun, painful to look at but far to mesmerizing to look away, warm at first but after long exposure leaves you pained and burned. But the sun also brings new life as well as can rejuvenate old life. He is so . . . like the sun.
I have known Trunks my entire life. He was like an uncle or brother or something for a long time. He is fourteen years my senior and my prince. You see we're hybrids he and I, a mix of human and Saiyan genes. The Saiyans... well I'm sure you all know that part of the story. I need not repeat our history.
Where was I? Oh, my prince Trunks, I admired him for as long as I could remember, but it wasn't until I spent so much time in space with him that he became eternally present. Actually that didn't last long as long as I realized my foolishness of liking him. The first time it was just an infatuation.
Teenagers are so impressionable, everybody knows that. As I aged, I matured and came to terms that he was untouchable and that you never fell in love with your best friend. Besides, he was seeing a different girl every night, each more beautiful and exotic than I could have ever hoped to be or become. I was a fighter, rough and untamed. Trunks was my best friend, always by my side. So instead of realizing I was falling in love with Trunks, to me he became the example every other guy was compared to. Obviously, no one has been or ever will be Trunks Briefs, but if you can't have the original you can try to find the next closest to his perfection.
There were actually a few that came pretty close. Some had the blue eyes that haunted my dreams, and some had the voice with the pitch that echoed in my mind when it was left to wonder. Some of them held me with the strong arms that I imagined Trunks possessed. A couple looked at me with the piecing blue eyes that sent my head spinning. Some had his millions as much as that mattered. Still, you know as well as I, all of them failed in comparison to Trunks because Trunks was the epitome of perfection, simply flawless, at least to me, but then he always was and I thought he always would be.
Trunks and I were friends, always had been. Any problem I had, I took to him and he helped me through it, forever my knight in shining armor. When I was younger and everyone picked on me because I was short, he reminded me that I was stronger than everyone of those kids, that I was Saiyan and to be proud of that. Later, when I couldn't understand physics, he tutored me, even though he was busy at Capsule. When I became a party girl, he was always the one I called for a ride home or an alibi to tell my parents. He always pulled through for me, because he was perfect, you know. Even when I burst into his office in tears, holding a letter from Harvard that told me I was placed on the waiting list, he calmed me, made one phone call, and saved the day as he passed the phone to me to talk to the admissions office. Trunks could do anything. He was perfect.
After college, mother and father said it was time to settle down, get a good job, and make it on my own. I was afraid of what they really meant. I felt like they were telling me that they were no longer going to be there for me at all. I knew in my mind, I could get along very will without their finical support, but I was afraid. So, like every other time in my life, I called on my perfect Trunks.
He laughed at me. Not in a condescending sort of way, rather he was very amused that I was afraid. He explained to me that I'd gone to Harvard; I could have just about any job I wanted even higher than entry level; I could even work for him if I wanted. Unlike my parents, I realized Trunks would never abandon me, no matter how old or mature I became, he'd still try to protect me. I was very foolish in my understanding of my parents wishes, and I suppose, looking back, I was foolish in understanding Trunks. Trunks was far too perfect to be understood.
A few years past, and I was promoted to the head of marketing as well as to the board of trustees for Capsule Corp. Trunks assured me that he had nothing to do with it, and I actually knew that he didn't. The head of marketing was retiring, leaving his job as well as the seat on the board open. My former supervisor admired my work and always told me he saw great things in my future. I'm sure he's surprised how correct he was now.
When I was promoted, I started to spend more time with Trunks presenting new ideas and getting his approval. He'd often tell me that he was so glad I was there. He'd confide in me how he was so miserable with his life, and seeing me, having me around made things better. Knowing that he felt that way made me happy beyond words. I felt that maybe, if he let me, I could try to repay him for all the times in my life that he made me feel better, that he brought me out of despair, and set my feet on the stone again. I guess I thought I owed him that much, but also, he was my very best friend, and I wanted to do anything in my power to make him happy, not matter what it was. He deserved to be happy, couldn't he realize how perfect he was?
I was called into his office more and more. I'm sure rumors spread around the office like wildfire. It was to be expected, but nothing ever happened between us. He'd call me in, ask me how things were going, and then he'd breakdown tell me all his problems. Sometimes it was questions that had to do with the company. Other times, he wanted relationship advice. I'd give the best guidance I could as well as a few assuring hugs. He'd laugh at how right I was. Sometimes he'd joke about how he'd have to start paying me to be his personal therapist. We'd laugh and that was that. What we talked about never left his office, and we were both better for it. I'd never let anyone know that Trunks was about to break down from the pressure of his job, or was almost to the point of insanity with all of the frivolous women he still chose to date. He was the Saiyan Prince. I would have done all in my power to help him keep all his royal perfect pride intact.
It was a Monday morning, I remember not wanting to go to work that day. I knew I wouldn't get in trouble, and all the marketing reports had been finished two days ago. I picked up the phone at my bedside and called in sick for the first time in my five years of employment. My secretary said she'd take care of things as best she could and wish me well. I smiled and replaced the phone on the charger. After I'd been back to sleep for about an hour, the phone rang again. It was Capsule, the caller ID clearly displayed. With a groan, I picked it up. It was Trunks, calling to make sure I was okay. He explained that my assistant told him I was sick, and he was worried. How cute, no? He was worried. I smiled. I'm sure if he could have seen me he would have laughed. I told him that I thought I'd be much better by tomorrow. He seemed glad then said that he needed to talk to me sometime today. I told him to come over after work and I'd make dinner. He said he'd come, but would bring dinner. He'd feel bad making a sick woman cook for him.
It was seven by the time he'd made it to my house. I answered the door with a huge grin. The first words out of his mouth were "You weren't sick." I laughed and pulled him in. We had dinner. I tried to get an idea of what was wrong by dancing around the issue at hand with safe questions. I asked about his sister, his parents, if he had a good day at work. Everything was of course fine. He helped me clear everything away. Then we sat down in my living room.
I looked at him and bluntly asked what he wanted to talk about. A silence fell. It was so eerie. With our keen hearing we could hear every single running appliance. It seemed like I could hear the dust fall. Then he spoke. "I'm old, Pan." I'm sure he could barely read the expression on my face. I wanted to laugh, but knew I shouldn't. I told him that he was only... "Only 42." He finished for me. Was he that old? He certainly didn't look it. He still looked perfect, still was perfect. I want to comfort him. I wanted that look of pain to leave his eyes forever.
He began to tell me that his life was such a joke. He always felt that he was living in his mother's shadow, even now when she had been retired more than ten years. He told me how empty he felt. Trunks expressed that he was lonely. He said he realized that he should have settled down long ago, should have started seeing the right girl long ago. Now, he was sure that all the women interested in him weren't after him at all. It was his money they wanted.
I remember taking a moment to collect my thoughts. This was serious, very serious. He watched me with such hope. I believe he expected me to say the words that would save his soul. However, on some levels I knew he was right. How does one tell their best friend that options are pretty slim and he just might have to settle for less than perfect? It wasn't right because Trunks was sooo perfect. If I couldn't give him answers I'd at least try to give him hope. I took his hand and I had no idea what I was going to say, but somehow the words just began to pour out of my mouth like water.
I told him that there would always be the right girl out there. That now was just a good of time as any to find her. I told him, whether he realized it or not, he was as good as or better than his mother. I assured him that his mother was so proud of what he'd done with Capsule. I wanted to tell him he was perfect, but it didn't feel right. So, I told him he was important to me. He was my best friend, and I loved him. I comforted him, told him that if he ever felt empty I'd be glad to fill him again as best I could. I watched his eyes through my entire speech. The pain never left like I had hoped it would, but his eyes filled with question, like he was pondering something that deserved his utmost attention. I was hoping he was taking everything I said to heart because I meant every word. After I had finished he pulled me in a hug so tight I was sure if he didn't let go I'd suffocate.
However, being that close to him was unreal, beyond anything I'd ever experienced in my entire life. I realized all those other men who had ever held me were severely lacking and always would be compared to my perfect Trunks. When he finally eased his hold on me to a soft embrace, I began to drown in the smell of him. I also found that I had been right so many years ago. His arms were so strong I felt untouchable in his embrace. Still holding on to me, he asked how I became so smart in my young age. I informed him that I was getting old, too. He laughed and then agreed that I was. I pulled back and smacked his face indignantly. He just smiled brightly as anger danced in my eyes, and I informed him he was not supposed to agree with that statement. Still he laughed and hugged me again. Then the conversation took a turn to where I never thought it would go with Trunks. He asked me about my own personal life. Something I had forgotten to think about for a few years at that point. I had unknowingly dedicated everything to Trunks and Capsule. If he couldn't be my life directly, I had made him so indirectly.
"Pan, why aren't you seeing anybody? Don't you get lonely?" He asked with such a caring tone in his voice. Then it hit me. I wasn't lonely because I hadn't found anyone to match Trunks yet. I didn't try to see anyone because everyone was a disappointment compared to the man that was holding me right now. Of course, I couldn't tell Trunks that. Still, I panicked at my own realization. His perfection had caused me to forfeit all belief in other males. I'd never be happy with anyone other than Trunks. I'm sure he felt me stiffen in his arms as I that thought passed through my mind. Finally, I gave a reply. I told him that was too concerned and dedicated to the job to worry about making time for someone else. It was partially true, after all. I mean I couldn't very well tell him that I was too in love with his perfection to accept another man.
"But you aren't lonely?" he asked again. Apparently, he knew that deep down I was. I admitted that I was, lonely for him ,I added mentally, but when I thought about the men I'd already came into contact with, I thought being lonely was a lot better than being broken hearted again. He agreed with me, but reminded me that the right guy was out there then added, with a laugh, he continued to say he and I should start looking for these right people before they find each other and leave us out in the cold. My mouth moved without checking with my mind first and said "Well then you and I will just have to get together won't we?" As realization came to me, I wanted to crawl in a hole and die. In the current situation of being in his arms still, I used the only survival mechanism I had. I started to chuckle like it was all a joke.
He pulled back slightly and looked down on me. I expected him to laugh or maybe be a little creeped out. Nothing could have prepared for me the softness of his eyes or the gentleness of his smile. Nothing could have stopped my brain from shutting down at the words that followed. "Would that be so bad?" We just looked at each other for ages. I went into some sort of trance, not fully aware of anything anymore. But before I fell into a stupor I remember seeing fear in his eyes, fear that I could also feel in my heart. Trunks was too perfect, wasn't he? I heard him speak but have no idea what he said. Then his lips touched mine in an unsure timid sort of way. Nothing like I ever thought Trunks' kisses would be like, but there was still a small spark from the contact. My hand went to the back of his neck and pulled his lips more securely to mine. He responded with the fiery passion I knew his kisses should possess. I felt his body, hard, and all around me. I drowned in his scent a million times. I felt his hunger for me, lowly me, and it only added to my hunger for him and the perfection I always felt was taboo and all buy untouchable. Everything felt so good, so warm, and so perfect. Then again I was kissing Trunks and he after all was perfect in every single way.
That fiery kiss of passion started my life, with what I believed to be my always perfect Trunks. Funny how we blind ourselves in hopes of never having to admit we might be wrong. Funny how we're more aware of our own faults then those around us. Funny how one can let her admiration of one person captivate her entire life. Funny how once she experiences heaven she discovers there's a hell. Funny how my always perfect Trunks would teach me each of these facts without even realizing it. I suppose that would be the only flaw in my simply perfect Trunks.