Chapter 1: End of the Month
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Yet another end of yet another month.
Heero tilted the bottle up, his tongue curving to catch the few precious drops of liquid. It trickled sweetly into his mouth, the taste delicious to him. It was a welcome change to the normal blankness that he always felt nowadays…oh well. He swallowed hard, the vodka burning his throat as it went down, and he loved it; before he couldn't handle it – well, he could handle it, he just didn't enjoy it as much as he did now.
He lounged out on the cot, he yawned slowly and began to stretch. It was only a matter of time until his fat loaf of a landlord came waddling up the stairs asking for the month's payments; the payment that Heero didn't have. He let the bottle drop to the side of his bed, it clanked as it joined the heap on the floor and yawned once more. Just at that moment however, a loud bang against the door prevented him from taking the nap that he was slipping into.
"YUY! OPEN THIS DAMN DOOR!"
Heero pulled himself up, with a bit of effort. It was getting harder to, especially with the bit of a beer gut he was getting now. Oh well. It didn't matter if he stayed in shape anymore, there was no purpose of it. The door shuddered with another set of fierce pounding, and he could hear the grumbling outside of the landlord but not before the doorknob turned and the door clicked open, and Heero found himself staring at his landlord.
"Gimme the rent, Yuy!" He snapped, his beefy cheeks shuddering slightly. Heero looked at him in disgust, the man truly was revolting. A bulge of fat hung past his tight old jeans, and a white shirt barely covered his layers of fat. He was glaring at Heero through squinty narrow eyes, as he held up his fat hand expectantly.
"I don't have it." Heero said shortly, but then he added, "I'll get it soon, though."
"No." The landlord said, folding his arms (with a bit of effort I might add) in front of himself, and scowling at him. "Give me the money now, or you're outta here."
"I don't have the money!" Heero said a bit persistently, and a bit desperately. Then he added coyly, a new law he had heard about flashing into his mind slowly, "Besides, you can't evict me short-notice 'less I miss two months in a row, and I paid you last month." He stood up, brushing off his jeans with his hands, the chip residue fell to the floor. He glared expectantly at the fat man.
"I don't think so scrawny, I didn't get any money last month, so law says I can kick you out – that's what I'm gon' do." Roscoe said, shaking a pudgy fist at Heero. "I'm tired of ya, you're a no good drunk and you never pay – and when ya do, you pay late. There are plenty of good people who could use a room, so I'ma give you till twelve-tonite to get outta here."
Heero's eyes widened, and he stammered…totally out of character of his old self. "I-I-I-I pa-paid you." He had…hadn't he? Yes. He had gotten the rent, he had sold off his gun to pay for it, it had been three months after he was living off the money he had gotten for selling his laptop, and afterwards he'd been so upset, he had gone to Timmy's to…
The money had obviously gone to drink, he had gone to Timmy's to drink, and shit – he must have used it all. Now what he was going to do? He couldn't help it, he was desperate so he did what he knew would work, beg; "I'll get last months rent, and this month, and a little extra…but, um…I'll get it for ya, okay? Sorry bout this."
"Oh yeah?" Roscoe looked half amused, "How you gonna do that?"
"I'll get a job."
"Doing what!"
"I don't know…modeling or something."
"You!? Model!"
"Did it before."
"When was this? You're pre-drunkard days…you looked in the mirror lately, bub? Nobody'll hire you."
"Fine then, I'll sell something."
"Sell what?! You ain't got shit in here."
"I'll…I'll…I'll…I'll do somethin'. I promise I'll have the rent."
"Look, sorry Yuy…but no can do. I'm running behind on my own payments, and I need someone who's going to pay every month." Roscoe finished, and found he was staring into Heero's eyes…and immediately felt guilt. He felt sorry for the kid. About a year ago, he had come there looking for a room – a very different boy, he had been fit and smart, a good kid. Then before Roscoe's eyes, he had dwindled down to this pathetic loser, who wasn't fit and couldn't remember enough to be smart. His short brown hair, had grown out to his shoulders, a greasy mess, his face was rounder, his body gone to seed, the only thing that was the same were those big blue eyes…but they looked so much sadder now. He swallowed deeply, those eyes were shivering slightly, as if he were on the verge of tears. "Yuy…I can…I'll give you till Saturday…okay? After that…I'm sorry, but you'll have to leave."
"But it's Thursday!" Heero wailed, a little more desperately then he had originally hoped. "I can't get another room…between now and then."
"Yuy, you need to get a job – a realistic job, and you need to stop the drink…it's ruining you." Roscoe said, avoiding those big eyes. He glanced at the floor, and whispered in a softer, kinder voice. "Why don't you stay at one of them Help Centers till you on your feet again? You won't have to pay for a room, and they'll help you get out of trouble. You're a smart kid, you can get back up – you can do it."
"Do what?" He said gently, his eyes wide and a miserable expression on his face, "What's the point…? I'm not…I can't…I…" He lowered his head and looked at the floor, an expression of defeat on his bed, "Nevermind. I'll be out by tomorrow."
"You don't have t-"
"I know I don't. I'll leave the key first thing in the mornings, and I'll stay at one of my friends houses."
"You ought to go to a Help Center! You need it…and…"
"I don't need help." Heero said shortly, stepping in front of Roscoe, and holding the door. His message was clear, get out. For a moment, with him so in control, he looked just like he used to – in control and assertive, then it faded and there he was – a drunkard again. Roscoe nodded shortly, and stepped aside – and Heero slammed the door in his face; just as the tears started.
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That morning, as Heero awoken, a part of him realized exactly what he would have to do.
It shamed him nothing more, then admitting he needed help but he knew he had to do it. He had done what Roscoe had told him to do, and looked in the mirror and had actually been surprised but what he saw. He no longer saw a slim, and attractive teenager but a scrawny young man who didn't look all to healthy. Despite the fact that he still didn't have a purpose, he at least wanted to like what he saw in the mirror, and he needed help to get there and he needed a place to stay while he did it.
He had looked around the room guiltly afterwards, and stared at the heap of bottles. He remembered during his training, a while ago now, they had instructed him not to drink – telling him it was evil and the end to all things. He didn't believe them then, but he did now. Plus, he wasn't sure if he were able to stop on his own, so he knew what he had to do.
Now Heero was standing in Roscoe's office, looking ashamed. The fat man was sitting in the desk, staring up at Heero half expectantly. He was holding a little pamphlet in his hand, and he raised it up to Heero. "It's up the hill from Alex's." He explained softly, handing Heero the pamphlet before he could explain a thing. "From what I heard…it's a nice place, and tons of people go there – little and old, there's no shame in it."
Heero took the pamphlet and stared at the cover, on the front it featured a boy and girl a bit older then him, hugging and smiling at the camera. They both looked picture perfect with wavy blonde hair and blue eyes, they were both wearing big royal blue sweatshirts with gold O's written on it, and looked totally happy. A little bit above the picture, it read "Omega Help Center".
He blocked out Roscoe's droning voice as his gaze flicked up and down the pamphlet, it had more pictures of smiling figures all wearing those same sweatshirts. His gaze traveled back to the top, and he began to read quickly;
' Omega prides itself in being there for people. It doesn't matter what sort, or for what reason – we just are there. At the Omega Help Centers, we offer comfortable residence, education classes, support groups, and most importantly love, for anyone and everyone who needs it.' At that point, it began to drone on about what support groups they offered, and details on the room. He skipped through most of that, but one phrase caught his eye; 'Omega gives people a reason to live.'
'A reason to live.' He thought it over, and felt a strange bit of something inside. He glanced over the glossy pictures, and swallowed hard – they all looked so happy. It was silly, but he began to wonder if they could give him a reason to live…a reason to go on…a mission…something…or maybe, maybe they could just make him happy. Heero shook his head rapidly, and swallowed deeply. 'It's just a center, just like any other center – it's probably got all sorts of lousy people there.'
"Just try it out, Yuy. My niece…well…my niece got into a bit of trouble, if you know what I mean – they took her on." Roscoe cut in, as if reading his mind. An admiring expression passed over his face, the likes of which Heero had never seen on him. "They helped her so much…she used to be promiscuous, rude, ambitionless…she's so different now. She's married to a leader up there, she's polite and courteous, and she knows exactly what to do – she wants to help the 'nation'." He looked pleased as he divulged this bit of information, and he continued, "And her kid…wow, he's something else. Brilliant. All thanks to their kids programs. He swears he's gonna help Omega when he grows up, and he's growin up right…y'know? It's a good place."
Heero said nothing, instead he slung his bag over his shoulder and walked out of the office. Not even uttering a goodbye, and not looking back.
A/N: A little OOC but I'm going to fix that.
