(To certain people and the people who never read the author notes)
Ok, PLEASE READ. This is a part of my fanfiction CLICHÈ project, meaning that the plot has been used by an endless amount of people, in endless amount of different fandoms. I did not come up with the basic plot and I very much doubt that the author you accused me of stealing from came up with it in the first place.
Thank you.
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Fanfiction cliché – The star and the nobody
This cliché has been done so many times. One character is a superstar, the other character has been living under a rock and has never even heard of the other.
I can think of three fictions where Duo and Wufei play out this specific cliché in different ways. So how could I even think about trying to write another one when there already are so many of them? Simple, all those fictions have one thing in common and I'm going to turn it around.
I'm going to make Wufei the star.
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A Dragon In The Backseat.
1/3
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Wufei had just about enough of all this bullshit. He just wanted to break his newly won award against the head of the falsely smiling hostess standing next to him.
"I would also like to thank my producer and all the people at Whitefang records for all their help." 'You cheep, worthless letches.' Wufei thought as his fake smile got even tenser. "Thank you everyone." He lifted the statue high over his head to the sound of the audience's loud cheers.
He forced himself to walk down from the stage in calm, controlled steps with a charming smile stretched over his face. He shook hands with dozens of happy people on his way back to his seat; people he knew wouldn't give a damn about him if he weren't as successful as he was. He smiled and nodded like a mechanical doll, hating every second of it. He managed to make it back to his seat where he was greeted happily by all his "friends." The cameras were still filming him and Wufei faked modesty, not to mention happiness, as he sat down. He had known that he was going to win. All the other contestants were horrible, computer modified singers who couldn't create a nursery rhyme fitting for a two year old.
The rest of the award show went horribly slow. The supermodel, who's name he could hardly remember, was clinging to his arm the whole way through, on the off chance that a camera would come their way. It was all he could do not to shove her off.
His manager had insisted that he could not show up at the award show without a date, especially not after his 'breakup' with the Oscar winning actress Relena Peacecraft. That Relena was just a friend who kept him company every now and then wasn't the point, and they were both sick of trying to tell the truth. And since she started dating Quatre Winner, the finance buff, they couldn't really hang out like they used to. Not without the headlines screaming about infidelity.
As the show ended and everyone got out of their seats, he quickly got up before the rest of his company had time to follow him. He easily managed to lose them in the crowed. Feeling pleased with himself, he hurried as fast as he could towards the exit. Women in sparkling dresses proved to be one of the biggest holdbacks, both because you had to be careful so that you wouldn't step on the dresses and because a lot of them tried to talk to him. Women loved his songs and weren't late to tell him so, often while licking their lips and showing off a bit too much cleavage.
It was a curse to be in the closet, especially at a time like this. As the seventh barely dressed woman stepped in his way, he was tempted to snap 'I like cock' just to get away. Instead he, as politely as he could, sidestepped her and managed to reach the exit. He swept past the journalists lining the red carpets both sides. He had talked to them on the way in; he felt no need to put himself through that nightmare again.
He spotted his limo, and unfortunately, his waving manager, further away and he hurried over. He had no idea how the man managed to get out there before he did, but the man had more contacts then God, that much he knew. In the corner of his eye he noticed that Heero and the rest of his bodyguards had appeared from thin air to shield him from the mass of screaming people.
He nodded gratefully to Trowa, his silent but effective driver, turned bodyguard who also doubled as his assistant. Trowa held the door open for him. He climbed in and the car door closed behind him with a satisfying slam, shutting out all the sound from outside.
Sinking down in his seat, Wufei bit back a sigh when he noticed the excited look on his manager's face. It could only mean bad things for him. And to see the other man looking like Christmas had come early, while he was feeling like he had one foot in his grave was not promising.
His manager was a constantly smiling man in his late thirties. He was one of those people who followed fashion magazines like it was the new Bible, always spotless, always with his hair combed back like a shiny blond helmet. "That was great!" The man exclaimed and Wufei felt a headache coming along. "Now, just make sure to stay in the media's focus for a couple of months. This party is going to be our ticket into the papers for weeks to come, after that we just need you to attend a few charity events, maybe sing at a few smaller shows to tell everyone that you are still one of the people. We can't let your fans think that the fame is getting to your head."
Wufei stared. "You told me that I didn't have to go to the party."
His manager looked sheepish. "Well I didn't expect you to win. Not when Danny Crawford was nominated."
Wufei snorted as he carelessly dropped the statue on the empty seat next to him. "I don't see how winning makes any difference, Marty."
"It makes all the difference." The man protested as he fished a silver comb out of his suit jacket, combing his already sleeked hair. "We have to stay in the front and rub elbows with all the big stars while we can. We are going to need all the connections we can get for the next record."
Wufei was too tired to point out that his latest album had just been released and he didn't have the will or material for another record. Not to mention that he already were one of the 'big stars.' But he assumed that his manager was talking about the new stars, people on their way up, not one that was closing in on the horrifying age of thirty. It was pretty obvious that his manager didn't think he was going to stay on top for much longer and that he was looking for a new star to cling to.
Wufei sighed and leaned his head against the cool glass as the other man kept talking. He knew he had talent, he knew people liked his songs and he knew people paid to hear them. So why did his manager always make him feel like he was on the edge of falling back down from the charts?
He glanced over at the statue lying next to him. It was a pretty large thing. A naked, anorexic woman with far too big breasts for the rest of her body was holding up an oval crystal over her head. She seemed to leer at him. He turned away to look out the window. The world was dark with endless rows of streetlights passing them. It reminded him of the camera flashes that he had just left behind and he closed his eyes to escape them. In the background, his manager was still talking like a repeating record and Wufei did his best to tune him out. He didn't want to be here. He wanted to get back to his hotel, maybe make himself a cup of coffee and just relax. Unfortunately, Marty knew what he was talking about. Wufei was just going to have to do as he was told.
He grunted in disinterest as Marty complained about the lack of females in the car. He was quite happy about that fact and had worked hard to accomplish it. That Marty had forgotten about the bimbos was a bit of a surprise and Wufei was grateful to Trowa for driving them off as soon as he got in the car. The last thing he needed right now was some wannabe super model clinging to his arm.
Wufei thumped his head softly against the glass. He really did not want to go to the party. He had been to far too many of them to even think that it was going to be anything but fake and boring.
Everyone was so scared of offending someone who they might want to work with in the future that no one ever said what they really wanted to say. People had been blacklisted in the music industry for lesser things than a drunken insult.
Maybe he should hang around the rappers; they might be rude and loud but at least they insulted you to your face. Or insulted him in their songs, they seemed to like that lately.
Wufei tensed up as the limousine started to slow to a stop. Outside his window was another long, seemingly endless red carpet, which led up towards the huge modern building where the award show's afterparty was going to take place.
He could see Trowa walking towards his door through the tinted window and he made himself ready. Checking his hair, straightening his clothes, making sure that he didn't have anything stuck in his teeth.
"Wait! Don't forget your award." Marty hissed.
Wufei grimaced. "Do I really have to carry it around?"
"Yes! We need to make sure that people know you won and-" He got cut off as Trowa elegantly swung the door open. Wufei put on his best fake smile as he reluctantly picked up the statue.
The cameras flashed and the desperate voices of reporters washed over him. The focus on him was ridiculous. He actually wished that he hadn't been so quick to get rid of his date. She would have been perfect right now. It was amazing what a pair of silicone beasts could do to a straight man's attention and Wufei really wanted something to distract people away from him.
That was the set back with being one of the bigger stars, there was rarely another celebrity around that could outshine him in the public's eye.
He waved with a charming smile, making the female fans scream like they were dying in happiness. There had been a time when he liked that sound, but as much else, it got old very quickly.
The red carpet felt impossibly long, lying like a large, flat snake. It swung from right to left, covered on both sides with excited people with hunger burning in their eyes. Instincts told him to stick close to the middle where none of the predators could reach him, but he knew he couldn't.
This was something he had to do and he forced himself to stay and do a couple of quick interviews. If he got a reputation of being an uncaring bastard, then his career would be in danger. One of the biggest reasons why he had made it this far wasn't that he wrote beautiful, intelligent songs or that he was a really good singer, it was Marty and his knowledge of how to manipulate the media. So like a well-trained super star, he lied through his teeth about how much this award meant to him and how grateful he was to the jury and his fans. Then, with another smile and a wave that made the fans scream, Wufei escaped in through the open doors of the huge, glamorous looking building.
The party was held in a huge dome shaped hall where the chandeliers were shining as brightly as the white teeth of the superstars. The room was already filled with famous, beautiful people all dressed to their very best.
Trowa must have taken the long way there to give him a chance to breathe, Wufei concluded. He had been one of the first to leave the award show and since so many of the people who had been there had made it to the party before him he saw no other explanation. Well, either that or Marty wanted him to arrive now. No matter the reason, Wufei was still grateful. The less time he had to spend there, the happier he was.
As he started walking around, he noticed that he wasn't the only one carrying the heavy golden statue around. It was easy to see who had one from all the people flocking around them. The whole thing felt like a deranged schoolyard. If you had a statue, you were in and if you didn't you had to suck up to the people who did.
As expected, it didn't take long before a herd of people started surrounding Wufei as well, wanting to shake his hand, to exchange gossip and to try to talk him into singing duets with some minor celebrity.
He did his best to look interested even if he couldn't care less. It all felt old and predictable.
As he spoke to a barely legal reality show participator, who seemed more than a little star stuck simply by being in his presence, he remembered how it was to be where she was now. How impressive and inspiring it was to walk around among all the big stars, which he until then, only had seen on television. How huge it felt and how lucky he considered himself to be. Now, he was one of those stars and all he could feel was that he was bored and wanted to go back to the hotel so that he could read his book or watch some television.
He blinked in surprise as a platinum blond model pushed her way through the crowd in front of him, trying to get his attention by more or less shoving her breasts up in his face. Wufei wasn't all that impressed but he had to give her point for insistence. She caught on to the conversation, making herself a part of it at the same time as she managed to make eye contact with him on several occasions. If it weren't for the fact that she lacked certain parts of the equipment he wanted, Wufei would have taken the offer that was so obviously beingpresented to him. Without trying to encourage her too much, Wufei flirted back. More out of boredom then anything else, but what were you supposed to do when you were in the closet? It wasn't like he could turn to his right and start flirting with her very attractive male colleague. Well he could, but he would not like the consequences of it. So in the end, he just made the best of the situation.
Then the model that had accompanied him to the show, Dani-somethingorother arrived, latching on to his arm. She smiled charmingly while insulting the other model, who was quickto retaliate. Wufei bit back a sigh. At least Marty would be happy, because this argument was most likely going to be the big rumor of the week. Two famous, beautiful models was fighting over him, what more could anyone want?
'Some peace and quiet would be nice.' He thought to himself as he watched the model's throw insults at each other, all while smiling prettily.
Enough was enough. Excusing himself, he left the crowd that had gathered around them and walked with determined steps towards to back of the hall.
The kitchen exit was in the far corner of the room. Casually he pretended to admire an ugly painting, but as soon as a waiter opened the door, he sneaked in. On the other side were a short, red painted corridor leading over to a pair of steel doors. Pushing them open, he was met with an almost overwhelming wave of noise. Waiters were running all over the place, chefs were calling out orders, plates were clinking together and pots slammed. He got a few curious looks but no one tried to stop him as he made his way through the crowed.
The green 'exit' sign seemed like an oasis in the middle of the desert and he hurried towards it.
The steel door of the fire exit gave off a low screeching noise as he opened it, stepping out into a dark, dirty ally. The door boomed loudly as it closed behind him. He took a deep breath of the cool evening air, taking a second to relax. Unfortunately, he knew that he could not linger.
By now, at least half of the kitchen personal had alerted the media and it wouldn't take long before the vultures would be over him.
He looked down at his expensive tuxedo. There was no way that he would be able to blend in while wearing it.
He shrugged off his suit jacket and hung it over the back of a cheap plastic chair standing next to the exit. Considering the amount of cigarette butts lying around the chair, some lucky smoker would find it soon enough.
The night was pleasantly cool and he rolled the sleeves up to his elbow and un-tucked the shirt. His silk fly landed in a pile of broken bottles and he unbuttoned the collar with a relieved sigh.
He was very tempted to leave the heavy award in one of the trashcans, but he knew that Marty would kill him if he did.
Instead, he looped his fingers through the metal woman's arms, letting her dangle along his side. With that, he started walking with quick steps away from the building, not wanting to be found out by some nosy waiter with a camera phone, or even worse, a paparazzi photographer. He could just imagine the headlines 'Superstar found stripping in ally after award show, sources suspect mental break down.'
That really was the last thing he needed.
He hurried his steps several blocks before he felt safe enough to slow down. The expensive shoes that his stylist had more or less forced him to wear was making his feet ache and he cursed fashion designers to the seventh circle of hell.
Just then, salvation came in the form of a black car with a glowing yellow sign on the roof.
"Taxi!" He called out, waving the golden statue over his head.
The black car hastily changed lanes and screeched to a stop next to him.
Wufei was pleased to see that the windows were dimed so even if they drove past a whole army of photographers, he would be safe. The door opened easily and he ducked inside. He sank down on the worn leather seat with a relived sigh.
"Where to?" A male voice asked.
Wufei rubbed his tired eyes. He didn't know what to say. He didn't want to go back to the hotel that most likely would be surrounded by hundreds of screaming teenage girls and he sure as hell didn't want to go back to the award party. No way.
"Drive, just drive for now." He mumbled as he dropped the award down on the seat next to him.
"Sure thing, boss." The amused sounding driver responded as he steered the car out into the passing traffic.
A slow, heartbreakingly sad song started playing softly on the radio, fitting his mood perfectly. The woman sang about broken hearts and lost love. Wufei didn't have a broken heart, or even a lover but he felt stretched too thin, like his entire soul was about to shatter from the strain.
"You look like you've had one hell of a night." The driver remarked kindly.
Wufei gave the discarded award a glance. "You could say that." He sighed.
They drove silently for a while and Wufei once again found himself leaning against a car window, looking out at the passing world. Neon lights were shining brightly from all the houses, as they drew through the flashy business part of the city.
Wufei exhaled shakily. He suspected that he was going through an identity crisis or something. He didn't know where he was going and he didn't know what he should do. He was so fed up with the music world and all the shallow people who were running his life.
As if to haunt him, his latest single, the one that had just won him the award dropped carelessly on the seat next to him, started playing on the radio.
"God damn it!" The cab driver cursed angrily.
Feeling slightly curious he lifted his head off the glass and turned towards the still cursing man. "What?"
"Nothing, I just hate this fucking song." The man growled as he glared down at the innocent looking radio.
Feeling more than a little amused, Wufei smiled as he watched the cab driver's angry expression in the rearview mirror. No one he had ever met had said anything but great things about this song. At least never to his face. "So why don't you just change that station?"
"I can't!" The driver growled in frustration as he fished up a long braid from behind his back, letting it land on his chest. "It's gotten stuck there. I can't change the channel, I can't turn it off, I can't even change the volume."
Wufei chuckled. "Well it's not that long, it should be over soon." He said as he listened to his own voice get to the refrain.
"That's what you think." The driver said with a snort. "But the truth is that this song doesn't just go on forever, it will start playing again within an hour or two."
"Really?" He hadn't known that it was so popular.
"It's hell on earth I tell you. And even if you're lucky and you don't have to listen to it again, then the damned thing will get stuck on your head and you will find yourself singing 'free among the clouds' and 'for your love I will fight' over and over again. I swear, if I ever run into that 'Dragon' guy, I'm going to punch him in the face."
The irony was just too much and Wufei felt himself laughing for real, for the first time he could remember in a very long time.
"I see that you don't believe me. But if you'd been stuck in this car, hour after hour, day after day with that guy's worthless songs playing over and over again, then you would want to punch him too." The cab driver told him sullenly, but his eyes were smiling.
Wufei fought down his laughter with great effort. "You do know that it's not the Dragon's fault that the radio stations keep playing his songs, right?"
"No but he made them, that's enough." The driver snorted. "Just listen to this… 'won't you be my ladybug, walk across my skin and fly away to mystic lands' I mean, what the fuck?! The guy must be on drugs, that's the only explanation." The driver huffed as he carelessly changed the lane, making some pissed off driver behind them honk angrily.
Wufei chuckled. "I think he's referring to the myth that if a ladybug lands on you, your wish will come true."
Blue eyes rolled in the mirror. "I still think that the drugs are more likely. Then, there's that part where he goes on and on about staring into his lover's eyes. Come on, seriously. Do chicks actually get off on that kind of shit?"
Wufei snorted. He knew that they did. He had fanclub to prove it. "No one ever accused teenage girls of having taste."
"That's true." The man laughed. " You want to know what I think?"
Wufei turned in his seat. "What?" He asked, leaning forward against the passenger seat.
The driver gave him a twisted smile. "I think he's gay."
Wufei gapped in surprise. He had been so damn careful, not even his manager knew about his sexuality. No one had ever suspected, not even the tabloids had ever even hinted at it, so how come this 'cabdriver' of all people managed to see what no one else had. "W- What makes you think that?"
The driver gave him a hard look. "What? You're a fucking homophobe or something? Because if you are, I'm stopping right here and you can walk to where ever you're going."
Wufei raised in hands in his defense. "No! Not at all, I'm- um."
The driver smiled, leaning back as he met Wufei's eyes in the small mirror. "You're gayer then a musical on Broadway."
Wufei choked out something like a laugh. "Kind of."
"Well then, you're one of the gang then." The driver replied happily as he flipped off an angry bus driver that he had managed to piss off by almost running him off the road. Wufei was very happy that he was used to reckless driving from when Heero used to drive him. "So, as I was saying. That singer guy, 'the Dragon' or whatever it is he calls himself, he writes his own songs, right?"
Wufei nodded. Like he would let himself be another one of those brainless pop singers who just repeated other peoples words.
"So, in all his songs, he used- what's it called, when you talk about something while you mean something else?"
"Metaphors?" Wufei guesses, leaning in closer to his driver. He felt his curiosity rise. The long haired driver was interesting and funny, not to mention nice to look at. Wufei couldn't remember the last time he had this much fun.
"That's it, metaphors." The driver grinned towards him before turning his eyes back to the road. "So he never really says what he really means, like it's a habit to always watch his words."
Wufei opened and closed his mouth, unable to find a single word to say.
"He almost never says something like 'I love her' or 'I want to kiss her' it's always 'I want to kiss those sweet lips' or 'I love you my summer wind.' He throws in a few 'she' and 'her' every now and then but the whole thing just feels like they have been put there after the song was done, you know?" He smiled like he had cracked a big secret, and in a way, he had.
Wufei couldn't have felt more exposed if he had been sitting there in the nude.
"Not to mention." The blue-eyed man lowered his voice with a teasing smile, making Wufei lean even closer to hear him over the sound of the radio and the passing traffic. "That his voice is very gay."
Wufei tipped his head back and laughed. "You thought -I- was straight at first and I'm right in front of you."
The driver shrugged sheepishly. "Yeah, well you could pass for a straight guy, no offense. But he sure as hell couldn't."
Wufei pressed his lips together in amusement before responding. "Ah, well I guess I just have to bow down to your superior knowledge."
"You should, I have to listen to the guy everyday, over and over again." He sighed long and hard as if to really share his suffering. "I tried to get someone to fix the radio but they won't touch it until the scheduled repair." He honked angrily as he was cut off by another taxi.
"Yesterday they had one of those special shows where they played all his older songs." The man took a shaky breath, like he was about to break out in uncontrollable tears, making Wufei snort in amusement. "It was torture! I had totally forgotten just how many of those songs he made over the years. The show went on for three fucking hours!" He howled like he was in physical pain.
Wufei couldn't help but snickered at the man's agonizing cry.
"It would be one thing if they all sounded the same, like all the other singers are kind enough to do, then you can just let it turn into this annoying background noise. But no. Not the dragon. He had to go all creative and make songs that forces you to pay attention."
"That does sound like a pain." Wufei said as he fought to hold back his laughter.
"It is, it really is. The worst part is that the worst songs always end up on top of all the lists. How many of those hits have been on the top ten? Ten?"
"Thirteen." Wufei corrected automatically.
The driver lifted an eyebrow. "What? You're like a fan or something?"
Wufei shrugged in embarrassment. He was actually pretty proud of all those hits. They were kind of like a 'up yours' to all the assholes that thought that he wouldn't make it. "I have an eye on the music world." He answered vaguely.
The driver smirked. "Oooh, I think we have a closet Dragon fan in the car."
Wufei rolled his eyes. "Would that be so bad?"
"Yes." He stated, giving Wufei an obviously fake glare. "One should not sink so low as to listen to that pointless drivel."
"Yes sir, if you say so."
"I do say so." He stated. "Now if you want good music you should listen to Joe Davis, The Q-street band or Mary Will. Those are the real musicians."
Wufei smiled at the list of old timers that were presented to him. The driver looked far too young to be listening to music that Wufei's grandfather used to listen to when he was in his teens. "I was always fond of Mary Will, she had quite the voice."
"Hell yes." The other man agreed. "That voice is so damn sexy, this coming from a gay man and if that doesn't just say it all."
Wufei grunted in agreement.
"They just don't do music like that anymore." The driver sighed.
"They sure don't." Wufei sighed and picked up the statue, turning it over in his hands. He didn't know what he was supposed to do with it. Award after award, it meant nothing. Mary Will probably never got a single award in her life.
Maybe he should start doing what Relena always did with her awards. Put it in a box under the bed.
It looked like some kind of cheap plastic ornament. Maybe he should put it in his aquarium and let algae grow all over it. Wufei snickered at the thought.
"So, what's that?" The man said as he slowed down in front of a red light.
Wufei shrugged, tipping the thing back and forth over his knee. "Just some junk I got."
"Kind of looks like one of those music award things, only a lot uglier, no offense."
Wufei laughed. "None taken, I didn't really want it, but I couldn't say no."
"Present from the family?"
"Thank God no. A colleague gave it to me, clearly thinking I would like it."
"Any idea where she got it from? My little sister would freak if she got one for her birthday."
Struck by a sudden inspiration, Wufei leaned forward. "Here, take it." He said and dropped the statue down on the passenger seat.
"Seriously?" The man asked, glancing down at the golden award.
"Yeah, but you should probably change the metal plate on the front because right now it says 'Male artist of the year.' You could change it to 'sister of the year' or something."
"She would love it, thanks."
Wufei leaned back, feeling lighter and happier without it. "No problem, it saves me the trouble of trying to find somewhere to put it."
"So what if that colleague of yours decides to drop by, then what will you do?"
'Kick her out' Wufei thought to himself. There was no way he was going to let that diva into his home. "I'll tell her that someone broke in and stole it."
"Nah, don't do that. She might buy you a new one."
"Well, I'll deal with it then." Wufei laughed because the chance that he was going to get another one next year was pretty big, if Marty had his way.
They drove in silence for a while. Wufei felt himself slowly unwind and a soft smile made it to his face. For a moment, he felt content.
"So, business or pleasure?" The driver asked.
Wufei sighed. "Business."
"Yeah, I had a feeling that you rather wanted to be anywhere else but here."
"Something like that, I didn't come here voluntarily but my…" He hesitated for half a second. "Boss kind of forced me to go."
"And you weren't all that happy about it." The other man chuckled.
"Far from it." Wufei snorted. "I just hate rubbing elbows with the 'right' people, you know?" He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the passenger seat in front of him. "Not only does it make you feel like you are the biggest scam around, but the right people are for some reason also the most boring, stuck-up people around."
"Any eye candy to look at? That would always be something."
"One or two." He admitted. It was hard to ignore that you were walking among the people who made the top hundred most attractive year after year. It was also hard to ignore how people treated you when you were on that list. Marty had almost peed his pants in happiness when Wufei made the top five last year.
"There you go, think positively. Pretty boys always makes the work days go a little faster. A little subtle flirting and suddenly it doesn't feel so bad anymore." The man leered.
Wufei tried to imagine flirting with Treize Khushrenada or Zechs Merquise. If anyone caught him, he would never get to live it down. Marty would kill him, not to mention that the tabloids would make his life miserable. He rather not risk that, and was forced to suffer the boredom. "I wish, I would get hell if I was found out."
The driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror. "You're in the closet?"
"Not by choice, but yeah." He sighed.
"You poor bastard. I totally recommend being out."
"If I could, I would." Wufei confessed. "Anything to make all the brainless, silicone blondes stop draping themselves over me."
The driver laughed, loud and liberating, making Wufei tingle in happiness. "I repeat, you poor bastard."
"Yeah, just today on of them tried to get me in bed with her, never mind that my 'date' was standing next to me."
"Seriously?" The blue-eyed man grinned teasingly. "Someone is popular, you rich?"
Wufei shrugged awkwardly. "Something like that."
"Then you really should come out." Smiling eyes looked at him up and down in the rearview mirror. "Rich, good looking and out, guys will throw themselves over you."
Wufei gave him a look in disbelief. "Would you seriously do someone who was just after your money?"
"Hm, you have a point." He said, tapping the steering wheel. "But on the other hand, I wouldn't know. The day people try to get into my pants because of money, is the day I go to jail for robbing a bank. "
Wufei laughed, but his good mood was cut short as his phone started ringing. He didn't want to pick up but when he looked down at the number, he realized that it was Trowa who was calling. The man only called when he felt that there was a real emergency.
"Yeah?"
"We need you back here." Trowa's emotionless voice told him. "They called from the label, you are getting sued for plagiarism."
"What?! Why?"
"They claim that parts of "Lady bug" is stolen from a rock song written last year."
"I don't even listen to that shit." Wufei groaned. "Damn, I'll be right there – no, tell me a good place to pick me up and I'll get there."
Wufei repeated the address he was given to the driver who did a highly illegal U-turn.
He hung up the phone with a tortured groan.
"No need to ask if you got some bad news."
"No, no need at all." Wufei mumbled from behind the hands he pressed against his face. "We are getting accused of stealing, but I know for a fact that we are innocent. The problem is just how the hell I'm going to prove it."
"Huh, bummer."
They drove in silence. Wufei tried desperately to think of a single rock song that was made in the last few years, but he drew a complete blank. There was no way he could have stolen anything from a song that he had never heard. He was woken out of his thoughts as the driver announced that they were there. He slowed down in front of an old bench, standing a bit crookedly on the sidewalk.
"Should I stay with you until your friend gets here?"The braided man asked, eyeing that graffiti covered walls.
Wufei shook his head. "Naw, I'll be fine. But thanks." He handed his credit card over and waited for the driver to charge him.
The man turned in his seat and Wufei could feel his breath catch as he was given a bright, happy grin. "Well then, I can only hope the rest of your day will not be as bad as you apparently think it will be. Not to mention that I hope you enjoyed our long sightseeing."
"I did." He replied faintly. "Maybe we'll see each other around."
The man's grin got impossibly wide. "Who knows?"
Wufei nodded and as he climbed out he took a closer look at the drivers license displayed on the dashboard, especially the name written at the bottom. Duo Maxwell.
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AN – So what did you think? One too many of this cliché or did I manage to write something worth reading? Please tell me. I would be very happy if you did.