disclaimer: disclaimed.
dedication: to V.
notes: barfs.

notes2: part II of the goddamn rich people au; chronologically, this happens about six months before electra goes to war

title: baby what a shiner
summary: Ugh, just kill me already — Minako/Kunzite, Usagi; AU.

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It was dark, and it was hot.

Sweat dripped down the back of her spine. The pulse of the bass hit her like a fist to the solar plexus. She swayed into it, the hand over the curve of her hip burning through the thin fabric of her dress. Metal beneath her fingers, sweat-slick.

She moved slow through air thick like mud. The entire world was her playground, and no one should have been surprised.

Mina was a creature of high heels and higher expectations, and not one to disappoint. She was the golden girl, August heat made solid in the perfect tanned lines of her legs, dancing late at night in the dark underbelly of a city that would have eaten girls a little less brave than she.

And so when she left the party—and she did leave the party, because only tools and businessmen with nothing better to do with their time stayed longer than when the sun went down—Mina took the breath in the room with her. Rei was already gone, and the others had fucked off to who knew where.

There was no point in staying.

She was beautiful, and that was what people noticed first. Not her brains or her name (though they all took notice of her name eventually: Anders was a common name, but not so common that high society wasn't aware of the daughter of a supermodel and her acrobat-heir of a husband), but her looks. Her smile.

Because the thing was that no one really said no, not when she put her mind to it. Not when she was smiling over a solo cup of coffee, tiny shorts and too-big sweater, all golden hair and blue eyes.

The universe loved Mina, really.

Dragged a hand down her face, down her throat; she danced like other people breathed. Grown up on the jetset, Mina left her fingerprints and her clothes across the globe for other people to pick up.

The only place she settled was here, in the low dull roar of a club where the music throbbed along her bones. She had no face here, no name, and the strobe light slicked down her hair from the crown of her head to the sway of her hips, all gold on gold. It was lighter here, somehow, real life's inhibitions and responsibilities falling away into the pulse and haze of noise.

(But it was a little lonely. Rei was gone. Amy was always studying. Lita was too good for this shit anyway, and Serena was—well, she was Serena. She was going to find some nice boy and get married and have children, and then Mina would be all alone. What was she going to do without them?)

Lips followed a bead of sweat down her throat.

Mina smiled.

It wasn't a kind thing. It was all teeth sharp like daggers meant to cut out a heart. Only Serena had indulged her tonight, to come dancing. But Serena had disappeared an hour ago into a corner with a dark-haired man that Mina had never met before.

But she wasn't worried.

She wasn't worried at all.

Tongue against her jugular, Mina tipped her head back. It was a line of cool wetness in contrast to the pounding bass beneath her feet. It thrilled up her spine, trembling through her temples, through her fingers; a single long glittering skein of pleasure and this—this Mina knew. This Mina understood.

"Kiss me," she said.

She didn't even know his name but he kissed her like pop rocks exploding underneath her tongue. It was only okay: it was too sharp, too fizzy. Blood rushed to her face but not in a good way, burned acrid on the back of her tongue.

And Mina was always at war with herself for things like this.

"I need a drink," she said into his mouth.

"Don't be gone too long," he said into her throat.

Mina pushed him away, and vowed to never let him touch her again. He could be anyone, anyone at all, but he still wasn't the person she was looking for. She gave people a chance, did Mina—but once chance (one kiss) was all they had, and once they'd wasted that, she disappeared like a ghost in sunlight.

But the bar seemed so far away.

And the doors were right there. But Serena—

Serena was gone, too. Her ridiculous pigtails were gone from the pounding bass. Mina wasn't the only hot mess left in this place, but she was probably the richest.

Everything inside her ached, all the places that could hurt; with the thought that her best friend had gone, Mina felt hollowed-out, scraped clean from the inside out. She felt alone, though her hips still burned from where that stranger had held onto her. He'd tried to keep her in place, just like everyone else. It wasn't a good feeling, and, God, she didn't have time for these people and their petty little games.

And the night called.

On unsteady ankles, Mina Anders left her world behind to find amusement elsewhere.

It wasn't hard, not really. New York was a big, big city.

New York was a big, big city, and the trains ran all the time.

No matter how late—or so late it was early—she was out, Mina could always rely on the subway system to get her (and whoever had caught her golden mayfly attention that night) home.

She had friends who never used the subway—acquaintances, really, she could count on one hand how many people she was really friends with—because they thought it was beneath them. Which, ha, it literally was.

Her heels clicked against the asphalt, lonely but loud, and she swung down the green-painted steps to hop the B uptown. Times' Square was for tourists, and Mina had better things to do. Someone stood outside a church preaching about the Exodus; they did that a lot, these days, with the economic crash and the shady business all over the place.

"Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live," Mina sang beneath her breath.

Whatever. Witches weren't really her department.

Bitches, though, Mina knew a couple of those.

(Was one, for that matter. There was something about words, Mina knew: if you took a word for yourself and made it yours, no one could hurt you with it anymore. She'd been called a bitch so many times, for so many reasons—because she was pretty, because your boyfriend liked her better, because your daddy never loved you and she called you on it—that eventually, she wore it like armour. A word couldn't hurt you, when it bounced off.)

The air down in the platform was hot and sticky against her skin. Her skirt stuck to the back of her legs, not short enough for the summer heat. Rei might have been able to pull it off, but Mina wasn't Rei. She wasn't that composed.

She was too hungry, to be Rei.

Mina waited for her train, braiding and unbraiding her hair for want of something to do with her hands. There were only a few other people around; a tired-looking woman with dark skin and her hair wrapped up in a colourful scarf hummed to herself several feet away. There was a boy busking (badly), old guitar between his hands and a (terrible) love song between his lips, and he stared at her, Mina thought, just like everyone did. There were a couple of businessmen, too—they both had white hair, though only one of them looked old enough to be her grandfather. The other just looked… resigned, Mina thought. He stared straight ahead, and his eyes were grey as the sky over the ocean just before a storm. They matched his charcoal-coloured suit. He should have looked washed out, all that grey, but he didn't.

And his mouth was soft, so Mina wondered about that instead.

When the train came, she slipped inside before anyone else, and sat down with her head against the window. The man in the charcoal suit sat down across from her.

Mina smiled at him only once, and then she closed her eyes.

—

She woke up to the sound of her phone screeching at her.

"Oh god, who the hell—" Mina moaned, and reached for the offensive thing. "Hello?"

"Oh, hey, you got home okay!" Serena's voice came tinny through the speaker. "I was worried, because I couldn't find you, but Darien's friend said he thought he saw a really blonde girl staggering out at like, two AM—"

Her friend blabbered happily, and Mina sank back down into her pillows. She let the sound of Serena's voice wash over her, let it calm her pounding heart down. "Well, I guess a really blonde girl kinda does describe me, somehow."

"Well, yeah! He said she sorta looked like me, so I figured… but you're alright? Nothing broken?"

"No, Ren," Mina said. "Nothing broken. Nothing hurt."

(And wasn't that the truth.)

"Good," Serena said. Mina could hear the smile in her voice. "So, um, I know last night was kind of—"

"A total and complete failure of everything ever," Mina supplied.

"—yeah, that. So do you think that, I don't know, we could try it again? I really want you to like him, Mina, Darien's—he's different, okay? He's just different."

"That's what you said about Seiya, and look how that turned out," Mina said. It wasn't that she didn't trust Serena's judgement. It was just that when it came to significant others, Serena's judgement was severely impaired.

"Seiya was… Seiya was different in a different way."

"Because that makes sense."

"Mina!" Serena bristled on the other end of the line like an angry cat (and shit, Mina had forgotten to feed Artemis again, he'd probably pissed all over the cushions in revenge. What a dick). "It makes sense to me! Seiya was… angry. And he was looking for something that I couldn't give him."

"Yeah, Kaley."

Serena's voice went very soft. "He'd loved her for a really long time, Mina. You know that. And Darien… Mina, he lights me up inside."

At that, Mina sat up. Serena wasn't very often poetic, but when she was, it meant that there was something Very Clearly Up. She pressed a hand to her forehead to ward away the oncoming headache.

"What does that mean?" Mina asked, soft.

"It means I want you to approve of him. It's important."

At that, Mina sighed. "So what do you want me to do?"

"Come to brunch with us."

"When and where?"

"Harrods. And. Um. Right now?"

"Oh my god, I'm going to kill you for this."

"I love you, I love you, I love you!" Serena squealed over the phone. Mina could practically see her bouncing up and down, too excited to deal with the world at large. She was such a handful. Mina loved her desperately.

"I know, I know, I know," Mina giggled. "Give me half an hour, I need to shower."

"You are the bestest friend ever," Serena said seriously. "Even better than Lita when she bakes cookies. I am going to buy you like fifty pairs of shoes."

"I'm telling Lita you said that, and she'll never bake you cookies again. Also, I'm totally holding you to that shoe-promise, I hope you know," Mina said.

"Oh my god, don't tell her, that's just cruel! And yeah, I know. But it's okay, you deserve them."

"Of course I do, this is me," Mina replied. She tucked her phone into the crook of her neck, shoved the covers of her bed away. "Anything else I should know?"

"Um, Darien might be bringing a friend?"

"I swear to god, Serena, if you're trying to set me up again…"

"No, no, it's nothing like that! It was was—okay, no. The last time I tried that with Amy it ended so, so bad, I had to promise I'd never ever do it again to anyone! Not even you!"

"And you're actually sticking to that?"

"You have no faith, Mina-poo," Serena sighed theatrically. "None! What kind of friend has no faith in their really gorgeous friend's boyfriend's friends?"

"I can't believe I understood that sentence. And the kind that knows exactly what goes on in that fluffy pink head of yours," Mina replied, humourlessly. Her loofa was hiding on her again—maybe Artemis had stolen it to play with, that was quite possible, he was enough of a little shit for it—and where the hell were her heels?

"Hey, rude—!" Serena gasped. "Be nice, you sound like Rei!"

"Who's being rude now, huh?"

"I am hanging up on you, poopy. Be at Harrods, or face my wrath!"

"I love you, but your wrath is like a rabbit, Ren. It's just not scary at all—"

"I'M HANGING UP NOW!"

The dial tone in Mina's ear made her laugh until she cried.

—

She wore orange, because orange was obnoxious. It was loud and flirty and dangerous; Mina liked to think that it suited her, but probably it just made her look like she was an escaped convict.

Still, she tied a red bow in her hair, and she went to face the world.

Let it be known that there was very little in the world that phased Mina Anders.

(Not even brunch dates with her best friend's new boyfriend. Those just made her want to throttle teenagers who wore ugly shoes, but whatever, she would deal. Mina wasn't a child. She could survive one brunch date.)

She walked into Harrods precisely thirteen minutes after she said she'd be there.

Serena already had food in her mouth. When she caught sight of Mina in her bright tangerine dress, she waved frantically, nearly spat everywhere, and only managed to stop because of the face that Serena considered all wasted food sacrilege.

Mina smiled. Thank God some things never changed.

"Classy, Ren," Mina said as she sat down. "Hi, you must be Darien."

The man sat in front of her looked like he'd taken the textbook definition of Tall, Dark, and Handsome and rubbed his face in it until it stuck. He coloured a little, but Mina thought it had more to do with the fact that Serena was miming gagging at their waiter's back than anything else.

He hadn't even looked at her yet, and something dark eased around Mina's heart.

"Yeah," he said, and finally looked at her to take her proffered hand. "You're—Mina, right? Sorry, I'm terrible with names, uh—"

"It's Mina, yes," Mina said. Her smile grew a little. He was humble and a bit of a goofball, she could see that already. Perhaps he'd be decent, then—she just needed to find out his last name so she could find all sorts of dirty secrets about him to hang over his head in case he ever caused Serena even a modicum of pain. "So what do you do?"

He coloured again, looked down. "Oh, I'm—"

"He's going to be a doctor, Mina!" Serena bounced into the conversation just like the fluff-brained rabbit she was. "Working with children, you know? It's so neat!"

"Is that true?" Mina asked.

"Uh, yeah," he said. "I like kids, they're a lot of fun."

"Why did you pick—" Mina started.

But Serena cut her off, tugging at Darien's sleeve. "Darien, your friend—isn't that him? In the suit?"

Mina whipped her head up. Darien might have been less than suitable (but ugh, whatever, no one in this town was fucking suitable), and he might have needed some major help in the dressing department, but if he had friends who wore suits, there may have been hope for him yet. Hope was all that Mina had, most days, so it was better than nothing.

"Oh, shit, yeah, hold on—Kane, over here!"

He moved through the tables a little hunched, as though his bulk was not meant for so small a place. He wore a dark suit, had very light hair—

Mina blinked. She knew that face. And so she stood, and smiled at him. "So we meet again. Nice to put a name to the face. Kane, right?"

He stared at her. "You were the girl on the train."

"Girls take trains," Mina said. "How else are we supposed to get around?"

Darien shot some very rapid glances between them. "Do you two… know each other?"

Mina flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Only in passing."

"She was drunk," Kane said.

Mina watched the colour drain out of Serena's face. She set her smile hard, sharp enough to cut flesh. He really had no idea what he was getting into here, with her—and Mina wasn't about to give him the benefit of a doubt.

"I don't see how smiling at you on the train constitutes drunk," she said delicately. "People do smile, it's a normal thing that people with faces do, you know. Or do you not do that on your planet?"

Serena choked on a roll.

Mina paid her absolutely no mind.

Because he was watching her with something akin to respect, and it had been a very long time since someone had looked at her with that in their eyes. Hunger, yes, and lust: those were things that Mina could spot in people's gazes a million miles away. But respect was something different, and when Kane inclined his head just a fraction, she was honestly delighted.

She hadn't put up with so much bullshit in high school to lose on a playing field as clearly unimportant as this.

But apparently Darien hadn't yet learned of Serena's immovable constitution—he rushed over to her side, had a hand on her shoulder and looked to be about to try something dangerous like the Heimlich maneuver or something equally heinous.

"Ugh, just kill me already," Mina said, and went to shove him off. "Back off, okay? Just give her a second, she'll be fine. Nothing kills Ren, Darien, believe me. We've tried."

Serena wheezed for another minute, before she managed to swallow the bit of roll and beam brightly at the three of them like nothing was wrong at all.

"Hi!" she sang. "I'm Serena! Sit down, we haven't ordered yet—"

Serena's chatter filled the cracks between the four of them like nothing was wrong at all. Mina's chest squeezed when she caught the way that Darien was looking at her friend; he was looking at her like he'd just seen the sun for the first time.

Mina thought she was going to be violently ill. Hopefully all over Darien's shiny patent leather shoes, ugh, who even wore patent leather anymore? They were so 2007. Mina picked at her eggs Benedict, and tried to find fewer things to dislike about him.

He was just such a tool.

(She was calling swamp voodoo on this shitshow right now.)

Kane fingers curled around the inside of her wrist, to stop her tapping on her plate with the tines of her fork. The sound was grating, but she didn't care.

Mina pulled her hand away. She smiled when she spoke, voice low. "Don't ever touch me without my permission again, do you understand me?"

"I—"

"No," Mina said. She spoke into his ear, too low for Serena or Darien to hear—or care, given that they were feeding each other strawberries. Gross. "You're probably used to girls falling all over themselves to talk to you, aren't you? Here's a piece of advice. I'm not like that."

"I thought you might not be," he replied, voice set just as low as her own was. "What do you want?"

"Could you make your friend disappear forever?"

"I don't think so, no. Darien is… pigheaded."

"Pity, that. But since that's the case, we have nothing to talk about," Mina said.

"Are you sure?" he asked, and Mina thought she saw a shift behind the blank canvas of his face. But just as quickly as she saw it appear, it withered into nothing, and was gone.

She drew a deep, fortifying breath, and said "Frankly? If you can't make him leave, you're of no use to me."

"Do you hate him that much?"

"It's not so much him as it would be anyone."

"Is she that important?"

"She's more important than anything," Mina said fiercely. "She can't—look, it doesn't matter. If you can't make him leave, I'll do it myself."

"You're on your own, miss," he said quietly.

Mina smiled. It was bleak, unkind, but it did nothing to mar the beauty of her face. "That's what you think. But just in case you change your mind, here. Call me."

She scribbled her number down in crimson lipliner on her napkin.

"Serena, we should probably get going. I believe you owe me fifty pairs of shoes?"

"Aw, Mina, now?" Serena whined. She pouted up at her, eyes water-blue and wide, lip stuck out. She looked like a kicked kitten, but Mina had long become immune to Serena's ridiculous faces.

"Yes, now. There is shopping to do! I have money to spend, things to buy!" Mina commanded. "And, God, would you quit that? I've known you since you were five years old, that face doesn't work on me anymore."

"But it used to work, right? Oh—Darien, I'll call you later, okay? Just tell them to put it on my tab, I'll take care of it!"

Without further ado, Mina dragged her flailing best friend away. She didn't look back to see whether or not Kane pocketed the number.

She told herself she didn't really care, either way.

It wasn't a lie.

It was probably better that he didn't, anyway.

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fin.