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Cry

Bulma pushed open the door to Capsule Corps, stubbornly refusing to cry. Tears stung her watery ocean-blue eyes but she held them back, biting her lower lip to keep from screaming in sorrow and pain.

"Bulma, dear, are you okay?" her mother, Bunny, said, coming out of the kitchen where she had been preparing dinner.

"I'm fine, Mother," Bulma muttered.

"No you're not," Bunny insisted. "What's wrong, dear?"

"Nothing!" Bulma yelled snappishly.

"Now, I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed," Bunny started.

Bulma snorted.

"…But a mother always knows when her baby's feeling low. Tell me what's wrong, Bulma darling."

"Yamcha broke up with me for Keely," Bulma said, still keeping her tears at bay. "He decided he liked her better than me."

All at once, Bunny's eyes hardened. "It runs in the family, I suppose."

"What?"

"Nothing, dear."

"No, you said something about it running in the family…?"

Bunny sighed. "I once dated Yamcha's father."

"You WHAT?!"

"Yes, dear. His father…his name was Alexander…and I were the hottest couple of our high school. But he broke up with me for his on-the-side girlfriend, Nina. I was so happy that you two got together because I wanted to see how his and my relationship could have gone, but I see that Yamcha is just like Alexander." Bunny suddenly gripped her daughter and hugged her. "You go upstairs and you have a good cry. Don't think about how he loved you, but how much he hurt you. You and I will show Alexander and Yamcha that we Brief girls are survivors."

"Thanks, Mom," Bulma said, surprised to hear such good advice coming from Bunny Brief. "The only thing that kills me is that HE didn't seem to feel as much as I do, now that we're over."

"You just take my advice, darling. Stay up there all night and all tomorrow if you have to. Whatever it takes to get over him."

"Thanks." Bulma turned to go up the stairs, but twisted her head to face her mother. The words that escaped her lips had not been uttered since she was a child of 10. "I love you, Mommy."

Then she stampeded up the stairs and slammed the door.

It took her but a few minutes to de-Yamcha her room, throwing everything that reminded her in the least bit of him out the window. In ten minutes, half her room was empty.

A string of curses left her mouth, about Keely and Yamcha and life in general, in both English and Saiyan, which she had learned from Vegeta every time the GR broke down. She beat against the wall with her fists, screaming her lungs away, and tore a whole pack of paper into shreds, letting them fall to the floor heedlessly. One of her lamp shades was torn off and trampled in her fit of anger and hurt. Finally she sat down on the bed, crying her eyes out shamelessly.

It took hours before she could stop. Wiping away her ruined black mascara with a Kleenex, she faintly heard her mother singing 'She Wasn't Good Enough For Him' by Reba Macintire downstairs.

"That's what I need," she said quietly. "Music." She went to her stereo and flipped the switch.

"And that was 'Just What I Do' by Trick Pony!" the radio DJ announced. "And now, we'll tone it down a bit. Here's Faith Hill's #1 single, 'Cry'!"

By the second chorus, Bulma was singing along.

If I had just one tear

Running down your cheek

Maybe I could cope

Maybe I'd get some sleep

If I had just one

Moment at your expense

Maybe all my misery

Would be well-spent

Yeah

Could you cry a little?

Lie just a little?

Pretend that you're feeling

A little more pain?

I gave, now I'm wanting

Something in return

So cry a little

For me

If your love could be caged

Honey, I would hold the key

And conceal it underneath

The pile of lies you handed me

And you'd hunt

And those lies

They'd be all you'd ever find

And that'd be all you'd have to know

For me to be fine

Yeah

Can you cry a little?

Die just a little?

And maybe I'd feel

Just a little less pain

I gave, now I'm wanting

Something in return

So cry a little

For me

Give it up, baby

I hear you're doing fine

Nothing's gonna save me

I can see it in your eyes

Some kind of heartache, honey

Give it a try

I don't want pity

I just want what is mine

Yeah

Could you cry a little?

And lie just a little?

Pretend that you're feeling

A little more pain?

I gave, now I'm wanting

Something in return

So cry a little for me

Yeah

Cry a little for me?

Whoa, whoa

Could you cry a little

For me?

Downstairs, she heard her mother finish singing "He kept her out there on a limb/Wouldn't let her go, or let her in/She wasn't good enough for him/…She was good for late-night listening when he called her on the phone."

Her door suddenly opened, and she looked up to see Vegeta facing her. "Your mother is screeching something incoherent about that playboy Yamcha. And here you are," he swept the room with a glance, "with half your room destroyed." He crossed his arms. "What all this about?"

"As much as I hate to admit it," she said miserably, "you were right. I should've dumped him before he had the chance to hurt me. He picked Keely. He picked that slut over his girlfriend!" She threw a pillow at the wall.

Vegeta stared at her, for once in his life, speechless. She, the girl who, though he would never admit it, had haunted his dreams and made him feel like a lovesick idiot, she had been separated from the one man who stood between them? He felt certain that not even the Dragonballs could've granted that wish any better.

"I told you," was all he could say, before shutting the door and walking away, stupefied. It was almost too good to be true.

The heartsick Bulma cried herself to sleep that night.

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