Disclaimer: I don't own anything @pont-face { pont-family: Jokerman; } @pont-face { pont-family: Berlin Sans FB; } @pont-face { pont-family: Eras Medium ITC; } @pont-face { pont-family: Lucida Calligraphy; } P.MsoNormal { pont-FAMILY: "Times New Roman"; pont-SIZE: 10pt; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-style-parent: ""; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; mso-layout-grid-align: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; mso-fareast-pont-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language: EN-US } LI.MsoNormal { pont-FAMILY: "Times New Roman"; pont-SIZE: 10pt; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-style-parent: ""; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; mso-layout-grid-align: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; mso-fareast-pont-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language: EN-US } DIV.MsoNormal { pont-FAMILY: "Times New Roman"; pont-SIZE: 10pt; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-style-parent: ""; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; mso-layout-grid-align: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; mso-fareast-pont-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language: EN-US } H1 { pont-FAMILY: "Berlin Sans FB"; pont-SIZE: 14pt; pont-WEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-bidi-pont-size: 10.0pt; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; mso-layout-grid-align: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-style-next: Normal; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pont-kerning: 0pt } P.MsoBodyText { pont-FAMILY: Arial; pont-SIZE: 12pt; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-bidi-pont-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-pont-size: 10.0pt; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; mso-layout-grid-align: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; mso-fareast-pont-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language: EN-US } LI.MsoBodyText { pont-FAMILY: Arial; pont-SIZE: 12pt; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-bidi-pont-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-pont-size: 10.0pt; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; mso-layout-grid-align: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; mso-fareast-pont-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language: EN-US } DIV.MsoBodyText { pont-FAMILY: Arial; pont-SIZE: 12pt; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-bidi-pont-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-pont-size: 10.0pt; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; mso-layout-grid-align: none; punctuation-wrap: simple; mso-fareast-pont-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language: EN-US } DIV.Section1 { page: Section1 }

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Gundam wing and its characters belong to their to their to their rightful owners.

This story is told from Quatre's point of view. (AU) To: Tsuki-moon

Red downtown heaven

By: Red Joker

If you must really know who I am, I am a prostitute. The funny thing is when you are walking across a street or wandering through the streets full of people you will only see me as a normal boy. I too, have my mask and adjust it when I come in contact with people. All of us put on different masks but they don't fool me. I am not saying I will be able to stare into your naked soul or anything. It's just that it has been a long while since I have stopped seeing with my eyes. When people come near, I let my senses wander and just feel their being.

Today I was sitting in the library hall, my back towards the world and losing myself to the to the universe created inside that little flickering box. I had an e-mail from my sister. No I don't want to go back. I don't want to go back to those hollow stares, to the emptiness, to nightmares...I get out. The world is quiet; the silence surrounding me is made of glass. I scream. It shatters. I pick up a broken piece and cut my flesh. It bleeds and Bleeds. I dig further till I get to that nightmare lingering somewhere in my unconscious. I want to cut through that too.

One great thing about this new life is that I don't have to cope with my family anymore. They were a really good family in case you are wandering if I left home because I was mistreated. There was one thing wrong with them though. They all l came from some exotic universe and they were pretty amazing people when you thought about them as natives of a distant planet. I left home because I was rotten inside and out.

My childhood was pretty silly. The funny thing is I wasn't so naïve and good as other children even back then. I remember myself stealing crayons and hiding shoes that I had filled with mud. I remember myself throwing a gold wedding ring down a pipe, my sister's wedding ring to be precise and getting in trouble for it. I am proud of myself for that. I never was like other kids. I was simply a self-centered idiot but a happy one. I lost myself in the world of poetry and book and made up the oddest characters from the people I saw in the everyday life.

It all changed pretty quickly. I split apart when I was 14. It just all happened because I had to grow up over one year. I don't blame anybody for that really. I lost my friends, my sanity and my sense of belonging. I grew distant and one day I just took off on my wings and ran away from it all.

Now I travel playing my fiddle in the corner of the street and gather money. I don't belong anywhere and I am not committed to anybody, not even God or myself. I have slept in lots of weird places. For me prostitution is a form of survival. I am actually afraid of sex and you know something? I die every time it happens or else I would be screaming or crying from pain. I like my life this way; I get to be reborn a thousand times in a lifetime.

When I am all by myself lying on the wet asphalt staring at the red downtown heaven, I dream of the stars I will see tonight. Nothing can disturb my peace as I open my chest and let the night sink in bringing the all the beauty and bitterness of an unknown mystery inside of me. The mystery of night. I am not a stranger to the night. It hides in the castle of darkness and when I am down, it sings to me or takes me to chase the moon in the water puddles till I am nothing but a faint shadow, part of the background of this city, of this world even. That's why you can never tell I am a prostitute even if you stare into my naked soul. Each night I am baptized again in the forever cycle of death, birth, life and eternity.