To quote the great Chris Carrabba: 'Hi-- welcome-- hi' Yeah. So this is my little ficlet, my 'outlet for inspiration I can't use' if you will. It's a songfic, the song is Lonestar's 'Unusually Unusual' and in my opinion, it's kinda cute.
"So what's this big news?" Trunks asked his mother as he tried to get the phone cord to stretch another two feet so he could reach his cup of coffee, which was already growing cold. He had had the day from hell, and then Bulma called him up ranting and raving about some amazing news she received earlier.
"Well," Bulma dragged out, "I got a call from Krillin today and he told me Marron bought the house down the street from you for her studio. You guys'll be neighbors!"
Trunks rolled his eyes. He had nothing against Marron, it was just she was-- well, strange. She had gotten mixed up with these people who were sort of spiritual-like and kind of went too far in some cases. Last time he saw Marron was three years ago, and she was out buying straw to make a skirt. "I guess that's exciting. When's she moving in?"
There was a pause and Trunks heard some papers rustling. "Tomorrow. Maybe you can help her move some stuff in. Oh, and Krillin told me she's changed her name. Don't call her anything until she introduces herself. Apparently she changes it regularly."
"That girl is a strange one."
~
The moving trucks were the first things Trunks heard when he woke up the next morning. His mother had given him the day off, saying he could help whatever she called herself move in, and maybe even help her feel more comfortable.
Sighing to himself, he rolled out of bed and pulled on some jeans and a shirt, slipped some sneakers on, and headed out the door. He was just as curious as he was freaked out.
She introduced herself as Amy, said call me Caroline for short
I just moved in three doors down so I wouldn't be the girl next door
When she saw Trunks, she smiled and waved an arm covered in charm bracelets. Her blonde hair was tied back with something that looked like it had come out of the ground. Her floral skirt went down to her knees and the pale pink shirt she wore had a large patch on the front that said 'I was killed by corporations'. She wore no makeup, and her various charm bracelets had dangling charms such as peace signs, teddy bears, and butterflies.
"Hi, uh, Marron," Trunks said somewhat nervously.
She held up a hand. "Amy. That's what the person inside me wants to be called."
Trunks nodded slowly. "Right. So, Amy, need some help moving in? I live right down there, the third house there."
And I knew the shoes she wasn't wearing fit her just right
She said "Hey man, did you know that somebody left your grass out in the yard all night?"
"Thanks for the offer. I was just going to move these boxes in now. You wanna grab the kiln for me? It goes in the meditation room, the last one on your left." She pointed to a large box marked 'M Room'.
As Trunks bent down, he noticed she was barefoot, and wore a ring on each toe; each nail painted a different color. He shook his head and started toward the house.
She's unusually unusual
Absolutely unpredictable
She had obviously been there for hours, as there were boxes everywhere and some of them had already begun to be unpacked. The kitchen struck Trunks as the most interesting room he passed on his way through the first floor. It was bright, and the table was on the floor. Literally. Four cushions had been placed on each side, where chairs would normally be.
Though the kitchen was interesting, it was nothing compared to the meditation room. Black, thick curtains were draped over the windows, shutting out all light. A couple of boxes were on the floor, which was covered in a white shag carpet, one that contained a potter's wheel, and one that held pillows.
Yup, Trunks thought to himself as he set the kiln down, she's definitely something else that Marr-- Amy.
She's so different and that's what's wonderful
She's unusually unusual
And that's beautiful to me
Other boxes, she said, contained things such as wheat, more cushions, and clay. And then she pointed out what she had changed.
A tattoo above her ankle, her hair longer, and even colored contacts. Her deep blue eyes had become green, like the makeshift scrunchie in her hair. She had stopped eating meat and dairy products, stopped consuming alcohol, and even stopped listening to music that was in the top 100 on the charts. She was completely her own person, and that just made her more interesting than the girl Trunks used to know.
Trunks really couldn't stop her from telling her stories about where she had lived for the past three years, what she had done, and who she had met along the way. Her life had been like an adventure, one that took her to places Trunks couldn't even imagine, though he had seen things in his life so unlike other people.
Marron, or Amy, or whatever she was calling herself, was a person far more interesting than anyone Trunks had ever met.
She had a tattoo above her ankle of a trident submarine
She said it symbolizes awesome powers hidden deep within our dreams
By noon, Trunks was captivated. Her green, though really blue, eyes sparkled over as the intensity of her voice increased. She talked about how she wanted to sell her pottery and put it in museums of art. Her voice changed from loud and airy to soft and intense, and though people stared when she laughed as they walked by, Trunks had never been more hypnotized by someone in his life.
The Marron he and Goten had grown up with was quiet, and reserved. And if someone had whispered something about her as they walked by, she would have taken it offensively and lowered her head. But Amy rolled her eyes and shook her charm bracelets even harder.
And her diamond eyes, different in color, held me captive in their light
And she said, "Hey, man, did you know we used to be brothers in some past life?"
"What about your parents?" Trunks asked. "What do they think of this new lifestyle you live?" He plucked a piece of grass out of the ground.
She took the grass from him and stuck it in a link on one of her bracelets. "I haven't been Marron for a long time. Marron was boring. I needed a change."
"But why? Why did you choose to be Amy?"
"I didn't." She smiled mischievously. "First of all, I chose to be Rain. Then I chose to be Faye. Then Sari, then Amy."
He rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean. Why weren't you a heavy metal queen or something?"
She's unusually unusual
Absolutely unpredictable
She narrowed her eyes and concentrated on her anklet. "I went to that school up north, remember? Everybody there was exactly the same. It was gross. I wanted to be different. I didn't want to walk around, no one telling me apart from someone else. So I met this one guy, and we got to talking, and he invited me to go and hang out at this place with some of his friends. They had been like everyone else, too. But they had changed. They were tired of being one majority, so they changed. And I changed with them." She reached up and ripped the ponytail out of her head, the item holding it together had indeed been a bundle of flower stems, as Trunks had guessed. A waterfall of gold fell down to her waist, shimmering in the afternoon sun.
She caught him looking at her hair and grinned. "I was thinking of chopping it off," she commented, running a hand through her locks.
"No!" Trunks said quickly. He blushed, then smiled. "It's pretty, long, I mean."
"Okay then," Amy whispered. "Wanna help me set up the studio?"
~
By three, Trunks was in love. There was something so mysterious about her, something so amazing that he couldn't put his finger on. She showed him her paintings, everything from the starry sky to the mountains and everything in between. They were all beautiful, so uniquely constructed, so her.
And when she told Trunks she was going to paint him, he sat on one of the pottery cushions stiffly and watched her intently. She would stick her tongue out in concentration and scrunch her eyebrows and squint her eyes.
She's so beautiful, why didn't I see it before? Trunks thought to himself as he sat perfectly frozen, trying not to laugh at her concentration. She really was something special.
"Okay, I'm done," she announced, stepping back and admiring her work.
Trunks started to stand up, but she jumped out in front of him. "No, wait!" She put a hand over his eyes and led him to the canvas. "Alright, I'm gonna let you look. One… two… three… Okay!" She removed her hand and Trunks gasped.
It wasn't a painting like Trunks had expected. In fact, it wasn't anything Trunks had expected. It was a mess of colors; blues and greens and purples. There were stars and clouds and circles. It was breathtaking.
"What do you think?" she asked.
"It's-- exactly me." And it was. The colors and the shapes were truly what he would have seen if he had looked inside of himself. "It's beautiful. I love it."
Her smile was wider than the sky. "Really? Are you sure?"
He nodded. "Really, and I'm positive. It's amazing."
She's so different and that's what's wonderful
She's unusually unusual
And that's beautiful to me
"You can have it, when it dries. But only on one condition. You have to hang it in your living room where everyone can see it."
"I wouldn't have it any other way." He smiled charmingly, and she grabbed his hand.
She laughed. "Let's go back outside. The sun's gonna set soon. I have to watch it. First sunset in a new house is good luck, you know."
"Is it? Hmmm." Well I guess I saw my sunset the night I moved into that house. "Did you ever paint pictures of the sunset?"
"Yeah. Lots of them. Maybe I'll show them to you sometime. That is, if you want to," she said, taking a seat in the grass and bringing her knees up to her chest.
He lay down and linked his hands behind his head. "Sure, I'd love to."
They both stopped talking and stared at the red-orange-pink sky. Trunks could only imagine what her sunset painting showed. He imagined a canvas of pink, red, orange, yellow, and some purple swirled into a tornado of color, a display of clouds and circles.
But as they just sat there in complete silence, Trunks found himself staring more at her than at the sunset. It was hard not to.
"Hey Amy, can I paint a picture of you?"
She turned to him and gave him a strange look. "Yeah, if you really want to. You think you can do it?" The twinkle reappeared in her eye.
"Who do you think you're talking to?"
~
And when Trunks was done, the painting was her. Not that he was an artist or anything, but he followed her format and it was her. Pastels filled the canvas, though in some spots a deep, angry red was splashed around. The colors seemed to get darker as the painting went deeper, showing emotions that were hidden, sad or angry.
He stepped back for a second and then sat down on the floor. She stepped in front of him and looked. She seemed to look forever to Trunks as he sat there trying to get some sign of emotion from the back of her head.
"Hmmm," she murmured, tapping her bare foot on the shag carpet. She spun around, her mouth a thin straight line. "Are you sure, Trunks, that you've never done any artwork before?" She didn't crack the smile that he saw tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"Absolutely positive," he said, obviously pleased with the disguised praise he was getting. "Why, what do you think?"
Still straight-faced, she sat down across from him. "I was at this place once, and they did a sort of psychological analysis on me and then did a painting like what we've done today. The colors this psychologist used, I thought were nothing like what I was feeling that day. But what you've done-- it's amazing how accurate this is. The darkness at the bottom, the yellow and pink at the top. It's beautiful, Trunks, it really is." She smiled.
"You can have it, if you want. But only on one condition. You have to hang it in your living room."
Some people may think she's strange, a different cup of tea
But she does it for me
She laughed, and Trunks silently declared he had never heard something more beautiful in his life.
The silver stars began to appear in the sky as Trunks looked back to his house. As much as he hated to admit it, he really should be getting back home. After all, he did have to work in the morning.
"Well Amy, I had a great time today, but I really need to go home. I have to work tomorrow," he said regrettably.
She unusually unusual
Absolutely unpredictable
"I had fun, too. We should do this again sometime. Stop by after work tomorrow night," she suggested, tying her hair back with a rubber band she seemed to produce from nowhere.
She's so different and that's what's wonderful
She's unusually unusual
And that's beautiful to me
He ran a hand through his hair. "Do you think, maybe, one night, you'd like to have dinner with me or something, maybe lunch, or even breakfast, or just hanging out again, we don't have to eat, that is, it you don't want to, we can just--"
"Trunks," she cut in, "I'd love to have dinner with you. Or lunch. Or breakfast. But remember, I don't eat meat or dairy." She grinned and stood up, pulling him along with her. "Now go home and go to sleep so that you can go to work."
"Yeah, I guess I should. I'll see you tomorrow then?"
"Yeah. I guess you will."