+++Disclaimer+++
I don't own DragonBallZ or any of the characters.
+++Explanations+++ This story is as if the History of Trunks movie never existed. I've changed
a few things for plot purposes, but nothing big like names, races, etc.
Trunks narrates the story.
+++Chapter 8+++
"Top five dream jobs." Serena reads off of my list on a rainy, dreary Friday afternoon.
"Hey! Hey, that's private!" I run from the hall where I'm busy sorting through a few new records Sean gave me at the shop today, and then right up to Serena. I try to snatch the crumpled, old, yellowed notebook paper out of her hand, but she just giggles and pulls away. Then she reads it anyway
"Editor for Rolling Stone magazine, film director, producer at Geffen Records, producer at Motown Records, architect." She smiles. "Architect? Are you serious? That's seven years training."
I shove my hands in my pockets, rather embarrassed. "I don't think I ever really wanted to be an architect, actually."
"Wouldn't you rather own your own record store?" I nod timidly, and she smiles and scratches out 'architect', then she writes in 'record store owner'. I take the list from her, crumple it up, and throw it into the trashcan. I get ready to walk out of the room, but she takes hold of my wrist and pulls me back over to her. She might be rather thin, but she's not by any means weak. I mean, she IS a half Sayain. She pulls me over to her, then stands and kisses me, ruffling my hair. "Why are you always so down? You never used to be like this, Trunks."
"I'm not down. I'm fine. Just a little tired."
"That's your excuse for all of your feelings: you're a little tired. Well I'm a little tired of hearing that from you."
"What do you want me to say, Serena?"
"I want you to tell me the truth, because I want to be able to fix it." I grimace as she says the word 'truth'. I don't want to tell her; I don't want to upset her.
"You won't upset me, Trunks." I swear this woman can read my mind from the inside out.
"I just, well, see, I just, don't want to go in the capsule. Back to the past, I mean."
"Why not?" She looks troubled. I knew I would upset her.
"I just don't!" I yank my arm out of her grasp, throw on my blue jacked, and leave the house, leaving Serena at the kitchen table crying. +++++++
I walk through the streets after the sun goes down, freezing, the rain beating down upon me, and I realize one thing for the first time in my entire life. I'm turning into my father. I didn't even KNOW the man, and I'm turning into him. I'm almost sure of it now. I kick a pile of wet leaves beside a street drain. I can see now that I've never really committed to Serena. We've been dating for two years now, and I've only told her that I loved her one time, and it was the night we first kissed. I've neglected her. Last Valentine's Day she bought non-refundable tickets to an extremely expensive dinner theatre two weeks in advance, and when she told me we were going that night, I told her I didn't feel like. And why didn't I want to go? Because Terminator 1 and Terminator 2 were on television that night. A few months ago I borrowed a couple hundred dollars from Serena so that I could buy this guy's record collection off of him, and I have not, as of yet, paid it back. I can't believe Serena hasn't left me. I only kiss her when I feel like it, never when she wants to be loved. God, I'm turning into my father.
I don't own DragonBallZ or any of the characters.
+++Explanations+++ This story is as if the History of Trunks movie never existed. I've changed
a few things for plot purposes, but nothing big like names, races, etc.
Trunks narrates the story.
+++Chapter 8+++
"Top five dream jobs." Serena reads off of my list on a rainy, dreary Friday afternoon.
"Hey! Hey, that's private!" I run from the hall where I'm busy sorting through a few new records Sean gave me at the shop today, and then right up to Serena. I try to snatch the crumpled, old, yellowed notebook paper out of her hand, but she just giggles and pulls away. Then she reads it anyway
"Editor for Rolling Stone magazine, film director, producer at Geffen Records, producer at Motown Records, architect." She smiles. "Architect? Are you serious? That's seven years training."
I shove my hands in my pockets, rather embarrassed. "I don't think I ever really wanted to be an architect, actually."
"Wouldn't you rather own your own record store?" I nod timidly, and she smiles and scratches out 'architect', then she writes in 'record store owner'. I take the list from her, crumple it up, and throw it into the trashcan. I get ready to walk out of the room, but she takes hold of my wrist and pulls me back over to her. She might be rather thin, but she's not by any means weak. I mean, she IS a half Sayain. She pulls me over to her, then stands and kisses me, ruffling my hair. "Why are you always so down? You never used to be like this, Trunks."
"I'm not down. I'm fine. Just a little tired."
"That's your excuse for all of your feelings: you're a little tired. Well I'm a little tired of hearing that from you."
"What do you want me to say, Serena?"
"I want you to tell me the truth, because I want to be able to fix it." I grimace as she says the word 'truth'. I don't want to tell her; I don't want to upset her.
"You won't upset me, Trunks." I swear this woman can read my mind from the inside out.
"I just, well, see, I just, don't want to go in the capsule. Back to the past, I mean."
"Why not?" She looks troubled. I knew I would upset her.
"I just don't!" I yank my arm out of her grasp, throw on my blue jacked, and leave the house, leaving Serena at the kitchen table crying. +++++++
I walk through the streets after the sun goes down, freezing, the rain beating down upon me, and I realize one thing for the first time in my entire life. I'm turning into my father. I didn't even KNOW the man, and I'm turning into him. I'm almost sure of it now. I kick a pile of wet leaves beside a street drain. I can see now that I've never really committed to Serena. We've been dating for two years now, and I've only told her that I loved her one time, and it was the night we first kissed. I've neglected her. Last Valentine's Day she bought non-refundable tickets to an extremely expensive dinner theatre two weeks in advance, and when she told me we were going that night, I told her I didn't feel like. And why didn't I want to go? Because Terminator 1 and Terminator 2 were on television that night. A few months ago I borrowed a couple hundred dollars from Serena so that I could buy this guy's record collection off of him, and I have not, as of yet, paid it back. I can't believe Serena hasn't left me. I only kiss her when I feel like it, never when she wants to be loved. God, I'm turning into my father.