Hello, good people of FFN! Here I am again, writing sappy fanfiction. Although, believe me, it's out of character for me.
Disclaimer: All rights, characters, and thus props, go to Sandrah K. Fuhr, AKA Sandrah Delete. I am getting absolutely no financial gain from writing this - in fact, my net worth is probably going down when I write bad fanfiction like this. Thus, please do not sue me. Sandrah, all of the props that I may gain from writing this go directly to you ... after I brag about them openly on some little-known message board. But that's the way it works, eh?
Chapter 2:"A-hunting We Will Go", or "Mik Stumbles Upon his Quarry"
This is so stupid. Ugh. My thoughts were pretty much something along those lines when I reached Cyanide's front step. I looked back down at the piece of paper in my hands; I'd copied the address from Harley's Little Black Book, of sorts - really his address book. But I liked commenting on its color, and was almost always rewarded with a light punch in the shoulder, followed by much tickle fighting.
But now I really wished I were home, despite my misgivings about Harley's ferret.
My idea that he lived alone was shattered by some childish-sounding laughter, followed by a few THUNK noises, and the sound of a mother chiding her children. Nothing like family, after all. I contemplated knocking on the door when I heard some familiar voices from the courtyard area. I looked down, noticing two rather familiar forms standing there.
One, clothed in all black leather, spiky black hair denoting his appearance. The person I was looking for. He was worried about something, but the other figure below couldn't see it properly. With a backwards-facing baseball cap and hair sticking out the front, I could certainly tell that it was Skids.
"... So, when are you going to tell him?"
"I don't know, really. I've had this crush for a really long time, and I don't want to break up this friendship I have with him ..."
I started getting a very strange sense of déjà vu as I overheard their conversation.
"Well, Skids, uhh ... How should I put this? He already /has/ a boyfriend."
"... Yeah, I know that. But ... I just can't get over it."
After a few seconds, I remembered where this conversation was from. The elevator ... Oh, God. This is what was causing all this angsty brooding-ness. Or maybe it was 'Sheequa leaving the band. Who knew with these 19-year-olds? I heaved a frustrated sigh, but I still heard snippets of their conversation.
"Dude, you have to. Hell, they're getting married soon enough!" Cyanide's anger sounded tinged with something I used to be quite familiar with - regret? Remorse? Resentment? I couldn't quite place it. ... But who the hell were they referring to?
Skids provided me with just that.
"But, damn it all. I really loved Harley... I loved him."
"... Skids, you do know he loves Mik, right?" Cyanide spoke much softer than I ever heard before. In fact, I had to strain my ears "There is a bunch of people out there that you're sure you're in love with, but you know that they'll never really love you back. There are just so many out there that are breaking hearts without ever even realizing it ..."
Disclaimer: All rights, characters, and thus props, go to Sandrah K. Fuhr, AKA Sandrah Delete. I am getting absolutely no financial gain from writing this - in fact, my net worth is probably going down when I write bad fanfiction like this. Thus, please do not sue me. Sandrah, all of the props that I may gain from writing this go directly to you ... after I brag about them openly on some little-known message board. But that's the way it works, eh?
Chapter 2:"A-hunting We Will Go", or "Mik Stumbles Upon his Quarry"
This is so stupid. Ugh. My thoughts were pretty much something along those lines when I reached Cyanide's front step. I looked back down at the piece of paper in my hands; I'd copied the address from Harley's Little Black Book, of sorts - really his address book. But I liked commenting on its color, and was almost always rewarded with a light punch in the shoulder, followed by much tickle fighting.
But now I really wished I were home, despite my misgivings about Harley's ferret.
My idea that he lived alone was shattered by some childish-sounding laughter, followed by a few THUNK noises, and the sound of a mother chiding her children. Nothing like family, after all. I contemplated knocking on the door when I heard some familiar voices from the courtyard area. I looked down, noticing two rather familiar forms standing there.
One, clothed in all black leather, spiky black hair denoting his appearance. The person I was looking for. He was worried about something, but the other figure below couldn't see it properly. With a backwards-facing baseball cap and hair sticking out the front, I could certainly tell that it was Skids.
"... So, when are you going to tell him?"
"I don't know, really. I've had this crush for a really long time, and I don't want to break up this friendship I have with him ..."
I started getting a very strange sense of déjà vu as I overheard their conversation.
"Well, Skids, uhh ... How should I put this? He already /has/ a boyfriend."
"... Yeah, I know that. But ... I just can't get over it."
After a few seconds, I remembered where this conversation was from. The elevator ... Oh, God. This is what was causing all this angsty brooding-ness. Or maybe it was 'Sheequa leaving the band. Who knew with these 19-year-olds? I heaved a frustrated sigh, but I still heard snippets of their conversation.
"Dude, you have to. Hell, they're getting married soon enough!" Cyanide's anger sounded tinged with something I used to be quite familiar with - regret? Remorse? Resentment? I couldn't quite place it. ... But who the hell were they referring to?
Skids provided me with just that.
"But, damn it all. I really loved Harley... I loved him."
"... Skids, you do know he loves Mik, right?" Cyanide spoke much softer than I ever heard before. In fact, I had to strain my ears "There is a bunch of people out there that you're sure you're in love with, but you know that they'll never really love you back. There are just so many out there that are breaking hearts without ever even realizing it ..."