Hey people, thanks for clicking on this story! There are just a few things I want to say before I actually post the story. First off, I would really appreciate it if you reviewed it. Even if you thought it was horrible, you could at least tell me why, or you could at least let me know that you took the time to read it. And please do not flame me. I do want criticism, but that doesn't mean that you have to be down-right nasty. Also, I will not abandon this story, for that I promise. I might make some one-shots while I am working on this, but this story will be finished, I promise you that. Oh, and while I am talking about one-shots, if you are interested, would you mind reading my Doom one-shot? I would appreciate it!

Well, enough of my rambling… let the story begin!

The Life of a Blonde

Chapter 1: Away We Go

By yllom21

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh (Sadly enough, do you know how rich I would be? I could travel all over the place, to Australia, London, Paris, Brazil, Hawaii, Ireland, Scotland, South Africa, Mexico, Puerto Rico, California, Canada, Alaska…)

His father just wouldn't shut up. Grimacing at the foul language his father was spewing out, and the loud horns of the car, Joey anxiously fingered the duffel bag at his feet. He didn't want to go there, that much was known. Last night his father had ordered his teenage son to pack, and before the blonde knew it, he was riding beside his drunken father, praying to all the gods that he would not end up in an accident.

Luckily, his father seemed to be sober enough by the time the two entered the car, but his temper, like always, was horrifying. He hoped there weren't any little kids close enough to hear him.

Naturally, there wasn't a good reason for them to be packed into the under-sized station wagon. He certainly knew that his father wasn't getting a new job. He had been unemployed for years, spending all the extra money on alcohol, so he could have a good time with his 'friends'. Of course, Joey always found himself in the middle, and he was the life-size punching bag his father used in his drunken rages. It really wasn't fair.

So, at the moment, Joey Wheeler, professional duelist and a natural dumb blonde was worrying himself crazy about the aspect of where they where going. His friends didn't know that he had left, nor did they know about his father's drinking problem. If they did, they would never shut up. Tea, the only girl in the group and the dancer want-to-be would have worried herself sick and would have demanded Joey to do something. Yugi, the duel-monster champion would have been frightened silly and Tristan, like an older brother to the blonde would have gone to the broken down apartment where he lived and would have beaten the shillings out of the old man.

But of course, they didn't know, and Joey preferred it that way, but now a frightening thought came to the teen, what if they never returned from there expedition? What if he never saw them again? But of course, they weren't going anywhere permanent, even if his father was an alcoholic; he at least had enough sense to plan these things… right?

While Joey was debating the sanity of his abusive father's mind, the man in question broke into Joey's thoughts as he screamed louder than usual at a passing old woman, who almost lost control of her steering wheel. Joey felt sorry for the woman in question; his father was scary, even when he was half-sober.

His father, who was now cursing at a boy on a motorcycle, suddenly stopped in mid-swear and turned to face his teenage son, "YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY!" he yelled, half a centimeter away from the blonde's ear, he paused for a second, before he started to swear, even louder than the earlier screaming. Joey took this quite well, even though it was painfully obvious that he was scared out of his wits, not because of the old man's yelling (he did plenty of it at home) but at the fact that the driver's eyes were no longer on the road, and the fact that he no longer seemed to remember that they were in a moving vehicle.

The station wagon in question was starting to spin out of control, and his father didn't even notice. Joey was about to grab the wheel (not caring about the beating that he would receive later) when he noticed the same motorcycle that his father was cursing at earlier was right ahead of them, and before he could stop himself, he was yelling, "Dad, watch out for that bike!"

Thankfully, the gods where listening and his father turned back to the road and just managed to skid around the motorcycle, who cleverly enough, had driven expertly into a ditch. Of course, Joey didn't get out unscratched, even though his father was not yelling at him. He was cursing (in an even louder voice than normal) about the insanity of teenager bikers, and how they shouldn't be allowed to roam the streets. Of course, Joey had to disagree (mentally of course), insane, alcoholic old geezers where the ones that shouldn't be allowed on the street. But he didn't dare say it out loud, unless he wanted more scars to add to his very large collection.

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They had made it, if this was the place. It wasn't looking very good, or at least, expensive wise. The apartment his father had rented was more expensive than the last, and he had barely managed it last time. Working his butt off for hours at a time, Joey somehow had managed to earn enough money to pay for the rent as well as his own bills, and keep his father's drinking money high.

But it wasn't like they where going to be staying here… right? Joey was downright confused about the renting of the apartment, was his father planning on staying here… what where they doing here anyway? The boy believed it had to do with the booze, the only thing his father seemed to care about.

Amazingly enough, his father was even more sober than he had been on the trip… but that was most certainly not going to last long, for that Joey was sure. And sure enough, an hour after they had made it to the apartment, his father dropped a rather large pile of papers on the table, and left to go to a bar in the city.

Joey, out of curiosity that the pile of papers might help to answer his questions, sat down heavily on the table with a half-drunk bottle of coke, and began to mess with the pile of papers. Joey's 'dumb blond act' was merely an act, when he wanted to he could be relatively smart. Although, he was no genius, or even a star A-student, he could be in the high eighties if he wanted to. But with all his jobs, and his father's alcohol problem, Joey didn't have the time to do his homework or study for tests. It was going to ruin his chance of getting an elaborate career.

Not many people knew, in fact nobody knew. But besides his love for duel-monsters; he loved to draw. And after drawing, he loved anime, so his dream was to become an animator. It would be the perfect job, you wouldn't need a lot of smarts, and it combined two of his favorite things… it would be perfect.

But at the moment, Joey couldn't stop and dream of drawing as a career, so instead he absorbed himself with reading the pile of papers. The first papers where advertisements for apartments; his father had obviously picked out several and he most likely had just decided to stay at the first one in sight. The other papers had to do about… high school? Combing his rather long blond bangs back, Joey reread the top line of the fancy paper, wondering if some of his father's alcohol had made it into his drink.

"Dear Mr. Wheeler," he read out loud, "We have read your e-mail and have now transferred you child's papers to our school. We will be expecting him on the 6th of March. A schedule has already been written out…" his voice drifted off as he finished the rest of the paper. His father had transferred him to the local high school? That could only mean one thing… they where here to stay!

After experiencing a few moments of horror, Joey began to wonder how his father had done all this, being the alcoholic that he was. He must have wanted it so badly, Joey concluded, that he had managed to stay sober for more than a few hours so that he could fill out the paperwork. Joey never knew his father could be so dedicated… why did he want to move so badly?

Even if his father was sober when he had filled out the papers, it didn't mean he was in the right state of mind. Joey almost never saw his father sober, and when he was, he was still screwed up in the head. Moving here, wherever here was, was probably not for the right purposes.

The thing that puzzled that blonde the most was how he never saw it coming. Of course, his father had probably thought up the idea just the other day, but when his father was up to something, it was usually quite obvious… what was he doing yesterday? After racking his brains, he came up with the usual answers, school and his jobs. But his father had also abused him… he had probably signed the forms when the blonde was knocked out… go figure.

After drifting off in boredom, the blonde sat up with a start and let out a loud 'duh' before he ran to the phone. Just because he was in a different city it didn't mean that he could no longer call his friends! Excited for the first time that night, the blonde sat down on a rickety stool and began to dial out Tristan's number. It rang once… twice… and then there was a "This number is long distance, long distance numbers are not allowed in the apartment building, please call somewhere else," and then there was silence.

Disgusted, the blonde slammed the phone into its cradle and began to pace vigorously around the room. He didn't really know far away he was from his friends… the only good thing in the boy's life! After pacing around the room at least fifty times, the blonde sat heavily into a chair and decided to work on a drawing to get his mind of things.

On the rare occasion of when the blonde had free time, he used it to draw so he could better his talent. Some people say that you are your own greatest critic, and Joey agreed with that. But he was happy with his drawings, even if he was upset about everything else. The boy found a sharpened pencil and began to work on one of his unfinished drawings.

It was a picture of a motorcycle. The motorcycle itself was almost complete; all he had to do was the wheels. But there was the background that still needed to be done, as well as the rider. He worked silently for a few minutes; the only sound that could be heard was the light scrapping of the pencil. Most people would just draw circles for the wheels; but Joey knew better. He had to made it look like the wheels where turning, and two under detailed circles weren't going to cover that. He was almost finished with the first wheel before he heard a rather loud bang, sounding suspiciously like a slamming door. Standing up with enough force to knock down the table, Joey stuffed the notebook containing his artistic drawing into his duffel bag. Nobody knew about his artistic talent, and the last person he wanted to find out about it was his drunken and abusive father.

Of course, that wasn't the only reason why the blond stood up in such a shockingly manner. He was scared, and who wouldn't be if they knew there father had come home from another drinking session. He prayed to the gods as he tiptoed gently, hoping to hide in his room. Suddenly he realized that he didn't know where his room was. Cursing softly, the blonde decided to hide in the first room he found, which happened to be the bathroom.

Closing the door behind him, he stepped gingerly into the room. It was small and a rather bright white, but at least it was clean and sanitary. He didn't know what he would have done if he had found it too disgusting to use…

Naturally, his chief thoughts weren't about the state of the bathroom, it was about his father who had most likely returned from another stay at a bar. Sometimes Joey was lucky and his father just went to sleep on the living room couch, but other times his father went after him… and used him as his punching bag. He had scars from previous beatings… and he still had his bandages from just last night. It had hurt to walk, but he had forgotten about his sores after his new dilemma of moving.

Praying to the gods was an easy thing for Joey to do… he did it so often, it had become second nature. He was just about to ask god to keep him safe when there was a rather loud bang at the door, and then it opened in a rather jerking fashion. It was his father.

He was in his normal drunken state; wet hair, sweating face, horrible stench and a rather large grin. His hand was still grasping a beer bottle, and when the man lunged at the boy, the blonde gave a rather noticeable gulp. His father was bigger than he was, and a whole lot heavier. He never managed to get the man to stop, the alcoholic stopped when he wanted to… and one of these days Joey was worried that he was going to go too far.

The man managed to get a rather hard grip on his son's skinny chest. Gripping the boy tightly, the man pulled him out of the bathroom where he could have more fun. Dragging the boy uncomfortably across the floor, the drunken man dropped him to the floor in the largest room in the apartment, which happened to be the living room.

Before the blonde managed to get up, the old geezer jumped on him, pinning him to the ground before giving a hard punch to the face… and it had started. Joey was not doing a good job protecting himself; he was still injured from the other day. Dodging as many punches and kicks as he could (which wasn't that many) the blonde soon found himself on the ground; bleeding in several different places, and gasping for breath. The drunken man loomed overhead for a moment, before kicking the boy in the stomach, making it hard to breathe. Then he staggered off, probably to drink some more booze, or maybe he passed out and was asleep. It didn't matter to Joey, as long as he got a break. But he soon found out that he couldn't get up, and in less than a minute the boy had passed out.

Hey people! Thank you so much for reading, please review! Points down