Elflord: Hey. now this one might just work. Rei: Hey! What the hell you
doing here?!? Elflord: Why, I'm the authoress, of course! Rei: Okay . . .
why are you here again? Elflord: Here to write your fic. Rei: *confused
anime look* Umm . . . a wha? Elflord: Don't worry about it! I've got
everything under control. Rei: *walks away, shaking head* Whatever floats
your boat, sweet shtuff *thinking to self "What a nut!* Elflord: Gee,
thanks. Rei: No prob! *walks away, muttering something about strange girls
always appearing in his bedroom for SOME reason or another* Elflord: *eyes
constrict in obvious embarrassment* Wwwwwwow! I really didn't need to hear
that! Good thing I don't own the series, or I'd have to handle him.
You heard right folks, I don't own Mars or Rei or Kira or anything else associated.
A/N: In this fic, like all my others, I do not follow the plotline exactly, but instead, change some of the own plotline according own interpretation. I expand on parts I like, and change the parts I don't like. I mostly like to keep in character though, unless otherwise stated.
Just Your Everyday Bastard
I didn't ask for this. God knows I didn't ask.
Bet God doesn't even know my voice anymore. Haven't exactly dropped the guy a line lately. No one else ever really took the time to listen. Can't imagine the good Lord would be much different.
What the hell am I talking about? I don't even believe in God.
Well, not really, at least.
I didn't ask for this.
Rei. Yeah, that's the name. Rei. Guy in the friggin mirror; long, blondish hair matted in a gnarly mess, clothes all rumpled from sleepin in em, smells like an alley cat, eyes of wildfire, Devil's own smile, cigarette hanging lopsided outta his mouth, can't remember what the heck he did last night, probably don't care to.
Half empty bottle of Smirnoff's over there in the corner of this room in the niche in the wall. That might give him a clue. Someone's number writ on the wall. Can't remember her name, just her screw.
God rest my soul, I didn't ask for this.
I was just sitting there. Last class, five minutes 'til weekend. D again, and I don't give a goddamn nomore. Don't even know why I showed up at all. Sometimes I just fuck it. I got other things to do. And why the hell not? Ride the bike, play the guitar, work at the job, screw the woman, toke the joint . . . whatever.
Then she just comes up outta nowhere. Comes up sits next to me and starts talkin'. Asked her for directions other day, she said. I'm thinkin' "Who's she?"
Girly girl. I think you know the type. A B student, maybe even straight A's. Ribbon in her hair. Looks like she's gonna cry or smile or anything at drop of a pin. Always drawin' something in that book a hers. Artist, she calls herself, rightly, too. You know the kind . . . I think they called 'em bobby soxers, long time ago.
Yeah, she says. Why don't I show up to class? She's worried about me. Me. Can you believe that?
You gotta understand, I'm not the kinda guy her crowd usually goes for. I walk away.
Next week, this same girl comes to me again. You know what I'm thinkin' now, right? Sure, I'll let her have a poke around in the old Dungarees. Woman only comes to me for that. I can't help it if they dig me. Why the hell not?
Then she asks me. Wanta be her model for a drawing?
You know, the kind with clothes on.
Sure, says I. And why not? Got nothin' better to do this afternoon.
There I am, bein' a pose or whatever I am. So she starts talkin' to me again. And here's the trip . . . I talk back to her! Me. Rei. Starts tellin' me about herself, so I give her the same. You know, the usual stuff. Her family, her friends, all that kinda stuff. I just fuck it. I'm pretty good at that kind of thing. But between the bullshit. . . little bit here, little bit there of Rei.
Bout a week later . . . get this. She shows up MY PLACE! Why wasn't I at school?
"Gotta be lookin' to screw," I'm thinking. But no, she really means it. I see it in her eyes.
Kira. . . one year above me, top of her class, and her hanging with me. Kind of hard to believe, I know.
More I get in, more I AM in, get it?
I didn't ask for this. Now I got it anyway.
Sure, at first, all about getting action, right? But it changed on me. You start telling her things, ya know. Things you don't tell. Things from your closet, ya know?
Believe me, I got some whoppers in my dark closet . . .
Goddamn brother. Jesus Christ . . .
Somewhere in there, there's a me. Not Rei the punk-cyclist-guitarist- delinquent-pothead-rebel-horndog. There's another Rei . . . a thirteen-year- old Rei. This Rei's got a brother. . .inseparable from him. Then, one of them makes a big mistake. . .
Enough of that, alright. And that's just one of them. Got a lotta stuff in that closet, boy.
Kira . . . and now I hardly dare.
It's like trying to pull and push at the same time, you know? I didn't want this for me. Especially not for her. But now I'm there.
Fate really sucks sometimes.
I got both kinds of dream with her in 'em; the kind with them under you, and the kind with a picnic and a kiss. I think she's probably a picnic girl. In fact, I know it. But that doesn't make the other ones go away.
She comes to see me sometimes. I think she's worried.
I'm getting kinda worried too.
Kira . . . for once in my whole life, someone's gonna listen.
Or will she?
I mean, I don't want her to mommy me. But there's just someway she clutches to my back on the bike that makes me wanna just burst open and let every last goddamn thing out of me. I wanna tell her about everything.
But even I know couldn't. I wouldn't put that on anybody. 'Specially not her.
It ain't fair. Life's never been fair to me.
She's a nice girl. I'm just your everyday bastard.
I don't know what she'd ever see in me.
She's going places. I'm just a bum.
For the first time in my life, someone really wants me for me, and I suddenly realize . . . she's so good for me, but what if I'm not good for her?
Humanism vs. Transformation . . . jeez, what a paradox.
I'm not the right kind of guy for her, and I know it. Sometimes I wonder if she knows it too. Like maybe this all just philanthropy. You know, be nice to the troubled guy, then leave him when your work's done. But now it can't work that way. Same way it started out sex for me, maybe it started out philanthropy for her.
But now it's not that anymore. It's become something I've never had before.
Who knew good old Rei was gonna fall in love for real, and with a good girl at that.
What could she possibly see in a bastard like me?
When she's with me, playing with my hair or whatever, I feel like this could last forever. More than any fairy tale ever, I want that to be true. Lying next to me at night . . . sometimes I wish I could just drink her into me. That's just what it feels like, me on top of her. It's not just sex, you know? It's something else.
And yet sometimes, for her own sake, I wish she'd just walk away.
So now here I am, one Rei heart, one Rei head, both in conflict with each other. The heart says yes, the head says no. And now I'm in a jam, a real jam, almost jelly at that!
Oh, c'mon, it's a joke. Ehhh, never mind. Never was much of a comic, if you ask me.
So here it is. A crossroad. One road means Kira and guilty. The other one means lonely and innocent. Boy, what a choice.
But there's no in between.
Sure. I'm just your everyday bastard. Bastard driving down this road of life on his bike, his hair flying out behind.
And maybe she's just a bastard's girl, hanging on the back.
THE END
You heard right folks, I don't own Mars or Rei or Kira or anything else associated.
A/N: In this fic, like all my others, I do not follow the plotline exactly, but instead, change some of the own plotline according own interpretation. I expand on parts I like, and change the parts I don't like. I mostly like to keep in character though, unless otherwise stated.
Just Your Everyday Bastard
I didn't ask for this. God knows I didn't ask.
Bet God doesn't even know my voice anymore. Haven't exactly dropped the guy a line lately. No one else ever really took the time to listen. Can't imagine the good Lord would be much different.
What the hell am I talking about? I don't even believe in God.
Well, not really, at least.
I didn't ask for this.
Rei. Yeah, that's the name. Rei. Guy in the friggin mirror; long, blondish hair matted in a gnarly mess, clothes all rumpled from sleepin in em, smells like an alley cat, eyes of wildfire, Devil's own smile, cigarette hanging lopsided outta his mouth, can't remember what the heck he did last night, probably don't care to.
Half empty bottle of Smirnoff's over there in the corner of this room in the niche in the wall. That might give him a clue. Someone's number writ on the wall. Can't remember her name, just her screw.
God rest my soul, I didn't ask for this.
I was just sitting there. Last class, five minutes 'til weekend. D again, and I don't give a goddamn nomore. Don't even know why I showed up at all. Sometimes I just fuck it. I got other things to do. And why the hell not? Ride the bike, play the guitar, work at the job, screw the woman, toke the joint . . . whatever.
Then she just comes up outta nowhere. Comes up sits next to me and starts talkin'. Asked her for directions other day, she said. I'm thinkin' "Who's she?"
Girly girl. I think you know the type. A B student, maybe even straight A's. Ribbon in her hair. Looks like she's gonna cry or smile or anything at drop of a pin. Always drawin' something in that book a hers. Artist, she calls herself, rightly, too. You know the kind . . . I think they called 'em bobby soxers, long time ago.
Yeah, she says. Why don't I show up to class? She's worried about me. Me. Can you believe that?
You gotta understand, I'm not the kinda guy her crowd usually goes for. I walk away.
Next week, this same girl comes to me again. You know what I'm thinkin' now, right? Sure, I'll let her have a poke around in the old Dungarees. Woman only comes to me for that. I can't help it if they dig me. Why the hell not?
Then she asks me. Wanta be her model for a drawing?
You know, the kind with clothes on.
Sure, says I. And why not? Got nothin' better to do this afternoon.
There I am, bein' a pose or whatever I am. So she starts talkin' to me again. And here's the trip . . . I talk back to her! Me. Rei. Starts tellin' me about herself, so I give her the same. You know, the usual stuff. Her family, her friends, all that kinda stuff. I just fuck it. I'm pretty good at that kind of thing. But between the bullshit. . . little bit here, little bit there of Rei.
Bout a week later . . . get this. She shows up MY PLACE! Why wasn't I at school?
"Gotta be lookin' to screw," I'm thinking. But no, she really means it. I see it in her eyes.
Kira. . . one year above me, top of her class, and her hanging with me. Kind of hard to believe, I know.
More I get in, more I AM in, get it?
I didn't ask for this. Now I got it anyway.
Sure, at first, all about getting action, right? But it changed on me. You start telling her things, ya know. Things you don't tell. Things from your closet, ya know?
Believe me, I got some whoppers in my dark closet . . .
Goddamn brother. Jesus Christ . . .
Somewhere in there, there's a me. Not Rei the punk-cyclist-guitarist- delinquent-pothead-rebel-horndog. There's another Rei . . . a thirteen-year- old Rei. This Rei's got a brother. . .inseparable from him. Then, one of them makes a big mistake. . .
Enough of that, alright. And that's just one of them. Got a lotta stuff in that closet, boy.
Kira . . . and now I hardly dare.
It's like trying to pull and push at the same time, you know? I didn't want this for me. Especially not for her. But now I'm there.
Fate really sucks sometimes.
I got both kinds of dream with her in 'em; the kind with them under you, and the kind with a picnic and a kiss. I think she's probably a picnic girl. In fact, I know it. But that doesn't make the other ones go away.
She comes to see me sometimes. I think she's worried.
I'm getting kinda worried too.
Kira . . . for once in my whole life, someone's gonna listen.
Or will she?
I mean, I don't want her to mommy me. But there's just someway she clutches to my back on the bike that makes me wanna just burst open and let every last goddamn thing out of me. I wanna tell her about everything.
But even I know couldn't. I wouldn't put that on anybody. 'Specially not her.
It ain't fair. Life's never been fair to me.
She's a nice girl. I'm just your everyday bastard.
I don't know what she'd ever see in me.
She's going places. I'm just a bum.
For the first time in my life, someone really wants me for me, and I suddenly realize . . . she's so good for me, but what if I'm not good for her?
Humanism vs. Transformation . . . jeez, what a paradox.
I'm not the right kind of guy for her, and I know it. Sometimes I wonder if she knows it too. Like maybe this all just philanthropy. You know, be nice to the troubled guy, then leave him when your work's done. But now it can't work that way. Same way it started out sex for me, maybe it started out philanthropy for her.
But now it's not that anymore. It's become something I've never had before.
Who knew good old Rei was gonna fall in love for real, and with a good girl at that.
What could she possibly see in a bastard like me?
When she's with me, playing with my hair or whatever, I feel like this could last forever. More than any fairy tale ever, I want that to be true. Lying next to me at night . . . sometimes I wish I could just drink her into me. That's just what it feels like, me on top of her. It's not just sex, you know? It's something else.
And yet sometimes, for her own sake, I wish she'd just walk away.
So now here I am, one Rei heart, one Rei head, both in conflict with each other. The heart says yes, the head says no. And now I'm in a jam, a real jam, almost jelly at that!
Oh, c'mon, it's a joke. Ehhh, never mind. Never was much of a comic, if you ask me.
So here it is. A crossroad. One road means Kira and guilty. The other one means lonely and innocent. Boy, what a choice.
But there's no in between.
Sure. I'm just your everyday bastard. Bastard driving down this road of life on his bike, his hair flying out behind.
And maybe she's just a bastard's girl, hanging on the back.
THE END
