Title: Performance, Chapter One, Dance With Me
Summary: Reminiscing. That's pretty much it. Chapter Two will be up in about.. a few hours. Merry Christmas Everyone.
Duo: *Vocals*
Wufei: *Drums*
Heero: *Bass*
Trowa: *Flute/Backup*
Quatre: *Violin*
G-boys: *plays you "We Wish You A Merry Christmas"*
(Does anyone want to draw me that as a gift? I'll write you a FanFic as a trade.. please tell me..)
==
3:35:35 am. Don't leave me wanting. 3:35:37 am. Take me somewhere. 3:35:38 am. Far, far away from this hell. 3:35:40 am. You Street Rat...
The Street Rat jumped in his sleep, soon to be awoken by the river of sweat dripping and flowing in and out of his shirt. Like a Street Rat, he tore it off along with his jeans, he usually slept in his boxers.
Take me home.
To a place where we can roam.
Just far from here.
Anywhere Street Rat.
3:38 am.
Duo Maxwell, the pitiful Street Rat climbed out of his weak rummed nap and jumped off the couch. He looked out the window to hear the clashing of thunder and bursts of constant lightning.
"Well on a happier note, there's a thunderstorm and some lighting to join along." He sighed, fighting away the urge to turn on his television; knowing there would only be more reports on her latest concert. As there always was.
The lights were still out and the Poker-faced man decided not to change that. Instead, he would limp slightly into his room full of their pictures, of their poor, naïve pictures; then collapse on his bed.
3:43 am.
Sleep while the fairies take you in.
Sirens sing your favorite Xmas tune.
Sleep my hero of a Street Rat.
In a fit of black and sliver.
He listened to the beating of newly born raindrops. "Hey, at least somethings rushing to meet me." Reminisce.
His mind automatically held a picture of Quatre, Trowa, Heero, and Wufei. That poor Street Rat couldn't help but smile. He spent a lot of his life with friends, just not the times he needed them most.
Hell, he would just love to talk to any single one of the fags right now. Actually, people wearing poker-faces would love a lot of things to happen. If only the other players would play a card.
3:45 am.
Don't glare at me boy.
Just because you're broken.
Doesn't mean a thing.
All he did was laugh that night. No one heard him either. No one hears a Street Rat in an alleyway cry over lost happiness. Not even the Desert Princess. None by the name of Maxwell.
4:35 am.
Take me back my Street Rat.
Let me take you back home.
Stop your dreaming.
Just stop and let me take you in.
The Street Rat never heard that part of the CD, he was always dreaming.
Lonely. Scarred. Hoping. Lost. Broken Promises. Street Rats. Desert Princesses. Poker Faces. Molested Fates.
He wished he had a deck of cards to play.
6:58 am.
Take me home.
To a place where we can roam.
Just far from here.
Anywhere Street Rat.
He was three minutes off schedule, or he would have been if he had one.
The Street Rat sighed. Life had changed since he left the 'G-boys'. Duo was a bit famous himself, it showed for something. So he was a well-known Street Rat, with a past connected to a Desert Princess. Fuck that.
He propped himself up with his elbows, still covered. The sun was rising now, it reminded him of the last time he saw a Desert Prince, a Circus Clown, a No-Named Boy, and a Boy with Black Hair.
...
Time: 5:27 am. Place: Space, no where specific.
"So, where you headed to after this?" Duo laid back in his cockpit, feet on the controls, arms behind his head. Street Rat style.
They had been drifting there for hours, for the hell of it. Spending the last few hours together, collecting their memories quietly.
"Headed back home." Heero looked out his cockpit, wherever the hell that was of course.
"What about the girls?" Quatre sipped his green tea. A new drink that his friends had taught him to drink. The Desert Prince let the smell echo off the cockpit walls, then took a sip, seven second intervals.
Silence.
"Doesn't sound like something you'd say." The Circus Clown relaxed in his Gundam, Street Rat style. Eyes, partially closed tight, but watching, like a sleeping murderer.
"Not half of us." The Boy with No Name whispered under his breath, stupid enough for the others to hear.
"You're right. Most of us.. Quatre you sipping something over there?...." Hum. No poker-face here, at the moment.
"Green tea." He said with a content slurp, half smiling.
"Hah.. figures." Duo closed his eyes, ready to take a nap.
Heero's comment still hung on the breeze, a meditating Boy with Black Hair took it in and morphed it. "There's still Relena."
Silence.
Duo snorted. "Sally.' Wufei purred mockingly, one of those joking times. A Street Rat grinned.
A heart skipped with laughter, Quatre smiled. "Cathy." A Clown answered with the click of his tongue.
Heero decided to arch a brow. "Dorothy." Duo and Quatre laughed..
"Would you really date her?" The Street Rat yawned questionably.
"Matters how drunk he is. If he was in Japan with lots of sake. Probably." Meditate.
"Either way." The Desert Prince shrugged. Another sip. "What about you Duo?"
"Cheers to that." The No-Name Boy spoke up, his indigo eyes glittering with thought and question.
"What about me?" Brow cocked, one sip, two purs.
Quatre narrowed it down, two more sips. "Hilde."
"What about her?" Three clicks, tension.
"You two didn't hit it off?" Trowa's voice wasn't remote.
"What was there to hit?" Lying Street Rat, no cheese.
Take me far, far away from this hell.
To a place of real replicas.
We shall sin together.
Scorpios know of our mercy.
Lust will drown our voices.
Heero blew an unbelieving breath. Duo's smile released. Two sips.
"What about Relena?" Duo switched the haze, remotely, like a Street Rat.
"What about her? Hell, what about Dorothy?" Defense.
"Blonde hair. Sally's age?" Curiosity.
"22. Trowa." Independent. It became a race.
"Blue eyes. Hilde." Rush.
"Not Hilde. She's a childhood friend. Someone else. Haven't found her yet." Loser of the race, Street Rat.
You try and hide your fears.
Resulting in your tears.
Rejection wins the race.
Another disbelieving breath, sip of tea. "What about...?"
Interruption. "What about it?" Street Rat.
5:45 am.
Rejection is your middle name.
"Well everyone, it's been nice working with you." Last click.
"I bet." Duo laid back, same position, tired, but sorry they had to leave.
"See you guys around." Pur. Sip. Tension. Brow. One down, three to go.
Silence. Second to the final pur.
Wufei flew off before saying his goodbye. Final pur. Bow. Sip. Nod. Two down, two to go.
The Desert Prince finished his green tea, packed up and sat, alert as usual. "Don't go killing yourself now."
Heero pressed a button, releasing all his ammo into the depth of space.
Nod. Salute. Three down, one to go.
"What about that self detonation button?" Need to make sure.
"Will do." Appreciative silence. Understanding.
"Later Duo." No tension. Content.
"See ya around kid." Nod. Eyebrow.
"Don't bet on it." Four gone, none to go.
"Don't worry, I wont." Liar.
Don't glare at me boy.
Just because you're broken.
Doesn't mean a thing.
But that was a Street Rat's job to bet on anything possible.
==
Author's Note: Hope you guys enjoyed that chapter. =) It was titled Dance With Me because of the not-so-little cameo with the G-boys and how they acted. Well, Merry Christmas, Chapter Two will be up in a few minutes. Thanks for the reviews! Please read and review!!! x3. (Please comment how I portrayed the boys, really need help on that one..)
Summary: Reminiscing. That's pretty much it. Chapter Two will be up in about.. a few hours. Merry Christmas Everyone.
Duo: *Vocals*
Wufei: *Drums*
Heero: *Bass*
Trowa: *Flute/Backup*
Quatre: *Violin*
G-boys: *plays you "We Wish You A Merry Christmas"*
(Does anyone want to draw me that as a gift? I'll write you a FanFic as a trade.. please tell me..)
==
3:35:35 am. Don't leave me wanting. 3:35:37 am. Take me somewhere. 3:35:38 am. Far, far away from this hell. 3:35:40 am. You Street Rat...
The Street Rat jumped in his sleep, soon to be awoken by the river of sweat dripping and flowing in and out of his shirt. Like a Street Rat, he tore it off along with his jeans, he usually slept in his boxers.
Take me home.
To a place where we can roam.
Just far from here.
Anywhere Street Rat.
3:38 am.
Duo Maxwell, the pitiful Street Rat climbed out of his weak rummed nap and jumped off the couch. He looked out the window to hear the clashing of thunder and bursts of constant lightning.
"Well on a happier note, there's a thunderstorm and some lighting to join along." He sighed, fighting away the urge to turn on his television; knowing there would only be more reports on her latest concert. As there always was.
The lights were still out and the Poker-faced man decided not to change that. Instead, he would limp slightly into his room full of their pictures, of their poor, naïve pictures; then collapse on his bed.
3:43 am.
Sleep while the fairies take you in.
Sirens sing your favorite Xmas tune.
Sleep my hero of a Street Rat.
In a fit of black and sliver.
He listened to the beating of newly born raindrops. "Hey, at least somethings rushing to meet me." Reminisce.
His mind automatically held a picture of Quatre, Trowa, Heero, and Wufei. That poor Street Rat couldn't help but smile. He spent a lot of his life with friends, just not the times he needed them most.
Hell, he would just love to talk to any single one of the fags right now. Actually, people wearing poker-faces would love a lot of things to happen. If only the other players would play a card.
3:45 am.
Don't glare at me boy.
Just because you're broken.
Doesn't mean a thing.
All he did was laugh that night. No one heard him either. No one hears a Street Rat in an alleyway cry over lost happiness. Not even the Desert Princess. None by the name of Maxwell.
4:35 am.
Take me back my Street Rat.
Let me take you back home.
Stop your dreaming.
Just stop and let me take you in.
The Street Rat never heard that part of the CD, he was always dreaming.
Lonely. Scarred. Hoping. Lost. Broken Promises. Street Rats. Desert Princesses. Poker Faces. Molested Fates.
He wished he had a deck of cards to play.
6:58 am.
Take me home.
To a place where we can roam.
Just far from here.
Anywhere Street Rat.
He was three minutes off schedule, or he would have been if he had one.
The Street Rat sighed. Life had changed since he left the 'G-boys'. Duo was a bit famous himself, it showed for something. So he was a well-known Street Rat, with a past connected to a Desert Princess. Fuck that.
He propped himself up with his elbows, still covered. The sun was rising now, it reminded him of the last time he saw a Desert Prince, a Circus Clown, a No-Named Boy, and a Boy with Black Hair.
...
Time: 5:27 am. Place: Space, no where specific.
"So, where you headed to after this?" Duo laid back in his cockpit, feet on the controls, arms behind his head. Street Rat style.
They had been drifting there for hours, for the hell of it. Spending the last few hours together, collecting their memories quietly.
"Headed back home." Heero looked out his cockpit, wherever the hell that was of course.
"What about the girls?" Quatre sipped his green tea. A new drink that his friends had taught him to drink. The Desert Prince let the smell echo off the cockpit walls, then took a sip, seven second intervals.
Silence.
"Doesn't sound like something you'd say." The Circus Clown relaxed in his Gundam, Street Rat style. Eyes, partially closed tight, but watching, like a sleeping murderer.
"Not half of us." The Boy with No Name whispered under his breath, stupid enough for the others to hear.
"You're right. Most of us.. Quatre you sipping something over there?...." Hum. No poker-face here, at the moment.
"Green tea." He said with a content slurp, half smiling.
"Hah.. figures." Duo closed his eyes, ready to take a nap.
Heero's comment still hung on the breeze, a meditating Boy with Black Hair took it in and morphed it. "There's still Relena."
Silence.
Duo snorted. "Sally.' Wufei purred mockingly, one of those joking times. A Street Rat grinned.
A heart skipped with laughter, Quatre smiled. "Cathy." A Clown answered with the click of his tongue.
Heero decided to arch a brow. "Dorothy." Duo and Quatre laughed..
"Would you really date her?" The Street Rat yawned questionably.
"Matters how drunk he is. If he was in Japan with lots of sake. Probably." Meditate.
"Either way." The Desert Prince shrugged. Another sip. "What about you Duo?"
"Cheers to that." The No-Name Boy spoke up, his indigo eyes glittering with thought and question.
"What about me?" Brow cocked, one sip, two purs.
Quatre narrowed it down, two more sips. "Hilde."
"What about her?" Three clicks, tension.
"You two didn't hit it off?" Trowa's voice wasn't remote.
"What was there to hit?" Lying Street Rat, no cheese.
Take me far, far away from this hell.
To a place of real replicas.
We shall sin together.
Scorpios know of our mercy.
Lust will drown our voices.
Heero blew an unbelieving breath. Duo's smile released. Two sips.
"What about Relena?" Duo switched the haze, remotely, like a Street Rat.
"What about her? Hell, what about Dorothy?" Defense.
"Blonde hair. Sally's age?" Curiosity.
"22. Trowa." Independent. It became a race.
"Blue eyes. Hilde." Rush.
"Not Hilde. She's a childhood friend. Someone else. Haven't found her yet." Loser of the race, Street Rat.
You try and hide your fears.
Resulting in your tears.
Rejection wins the race.
Another disbelieving breath, sip of tea. "What about...?"
Interruption. "What about it?" Street Rat.
5:45 am.
Rejection is your middle name.
"Well everyone, it's been nice working with you." Last click.
"I bet." Duo laid back, same position, tired, but sorry they had to leave.
"See you guys around." Pur. Sip. Tension. Brow. One down, three to go.
Silence. Second to the final pur.
Wufei flew off before saying his goodbye. Final pur. Bow. Sip. Nod. Two down, two to go.
The Desert Prince finished his green tea, packed up and sat, alert as usual. "Don't go killing yourself now."
Heero pressed a button, releasing all his ammo into the depth of space.
Nod. Salute. Three down, one to go.
"What about that self detonation button?" Need to make sure.
"Will do." Appreciative silence. Understanding.
"Later Duo." No tension. Content.
"See ya around kid." Nod. Eyebrow.
"Don't bet on it." Four gone, none to go.
"Don't worry, I wont." Liar.
Don't glare at me boy.
Just because you're broken.
Doesn't mean a thing.
But that was a Street Rat's job to bet on anything possible.
==
Author's Note: Hope you guys enjoyed that chapter. =) It was titled Dance With Me because of the not-so-little cameo with the G-boys and how they acted. Well, Merry Christmas, Chapter Two will be up in a few minutes. Thanks for the reviews! Please read and review!!! x3. (Please comment how I portrayed the boys, really need help on that one..)