Note: This chapters kind of simply Quitis getting on with her life, or
attempting to, we can't have her constantly having mental revelations Oh
sorry about how this changed and got all funky, but I edited the Seifer bit
in.
Thanks to everybody who reviews!
OOooooOOOooooo look I added a disclaimer (crawls out from illusion that she owns the world); if some reason you didn't know (which I highly doubt) squaresoft owns final fantasy, all of it, accept the characters I made up, which are quite obvious because they have no depth! Hurray!
Chapter 3 [REVISED]
Quitis Trepe rubbed her eyes as they slowly adjusted to the sparse light outside of the train cabin.
Dollet, her new home.
She walked to the end of the train to gather her bag. She sighed at the thought that this bag held her life, what fragmented pieces there were left of it.
She politely asked the worker for the large duffel bag under the name Trepe. She ignored the glare from the tall man who was obviously aware of her past.
'Oh, great, even people who don't know me despise me,' she thought, 'what abhors me the most is they have reason, I can't even imagine how much Rinoa wishes me to have in no way existed.'
The man almost shoved the duffel at her, she decided not to comment to him, but to allow him to live in his disillusioned world that all stories were one sided, that she had no reasons for being with Squall then to steal her away from Rinoa. Nobody new about the deep rooted love, the betrayl, the lies she was fed.
Rinoa was always thought of the heroine. Every book written on Ultimecia had either Squall or Rinoa on the cover, they were the least camera shy. She smiled to herself thinking of how Zell would always complain that he was defiantly cute enough to be on a cover.
It all made sense that no one in the general public would care for Quitis's side, it just hurt Quitis that none of her friends wanted to listen either.
Quitis dragged her bag further away from the man to avoid his scornful look, which was getting to her the way a child fidgets when his mother glares. She pulled her bag upon her shoulders and prepared for many more looks, many more whispers and reopening of wounds.
The streets of Dollet were surprisingly quiet. So quiet in fact that it seemed to harbor no night life at all. She was rather thankful but kept to the main streets for safety. She was trying her best to avoid angry mobs wanting to burn her at the stake.
Dollet Inn loomed before her, faded sign barely catching the glimmer of a nearby street lamp. Relieved, Quitis broke into a faster walk, that's when she saw the shadow, in the alley before the Inn. She walked faster, trying to avoid the shadow, which was moving humanly.
Bam, whomever it was took her down as she passed the alley way. Quitis was not weak, just behind on her training. As the man grabbed the bag, she kicked her leg underneath him, causing him to fall to the ground. She realized he was too big, without her whip she couldn't take him down.
She grabbed for the duffels zipper as he stood, ripping it open. She prayed instantly, and for once the prayer was answered, as the man ran off with her bag, her two most precious possessions fell out; her whip and her journal. Quitis was pained wondering how much her thoughts would be worth with the scandal, thousands more then the jewelry to some odd fool.
She smiled quite oddly to herself. The man had made off with her pearls and other jewelry, but she had placed her money in her boot. She would be okay, clothes could be replaced, memories cannot.
The women at the front desk looked at the blonde haired girl strangely. She resembled Quitis Trepe, one of the famed defeaters of Ultimecia, dethroned from glory by recent scandal. She had to wonder, however, why in the world would Quitis Trepe be wondering into Dollet Inn at four in the morning? Especially with bruises up the side of her face and no luggage? She shudder to herself, cursing the manager for putting her on night shift, it always did make her feel loony.
"Hello and good evening Madame," she spoke rehearsed and obviously staring at the dirt clinging to the strangers hair.
"A nights stay please, maybe more," she was solemn once again, cursing herself for moments later being happy to save her memories. Why in the world would she want to remember that?
"Sure, 200 Gil please," the women smiled, miles away, "And your name?"
Quitis handed over the money and signed herself in as Senya Adema. This of course left the night clerk more confused, and as Quitis walked off with a key she heard the clerk mumble something to herself.
____________________________________________________________________________ ___
[Quitis's thoughts]
Sleep.Why can't I sleep? I deserve to be punished but dear Hyne, our goddess, deprive an animal of reconstruction?! I think too much. Sleep is an unconscious state, no thought, just existence. Why am I not blessed with the ability to sleep, it is five' o'clock in the morning, and I have not slept for 68 hours, I fear a coma coming on. I might as well think then.
Its horrible to admit it, but I could always sleep with Squall's arms around me, even knowing that deep down inside it wasn't real. I felt just as empty with him though, it was just the comfort. Or so I tell myself. I feel so used, so horrible, so disgusting, I feel like I should have showered for days, not mere minutes.
Who was I to do what I have done? I shouldn't have allowed Squall to use me.I should have denied it. I don't know if I would have had the willpower.
I wish I could talk to my friends, no matter what they think of me now, tell them what happened. I doubt they'd understand. Its easy for lonely to relate with lonely, but can a sad person ever truly express themselves to someone who had never felt that pain? They all had one another, each one a structure, not a freestanding pole.
Why does it always come down to this, damnit Quitis accept it was your fault, maybe you'll get some sleep.
Quitis had just decided that human emotions were terrible coughs in evolutions steady breath when she decided to rise. It was nine' o' clock in the morning, and even though she slept none, the sun seemed to be radiating energy.
She slowly walked to the slightly grubby washroom and turned on the shower. Showers were somewhat obsessive to her, she tried to use them to scrub away the mental grime. It was a slightly off balance activity which she indulged in rather then took task.
She emerged forty-five minutes later feeling slightly better; at least she didn't feel like complete hell. That's when the realization struck that she had no clean clothing.
She pulled on her dirty outfit and decided to go shopping.
She hadn't expected the stares, be it the lack of them she attracted last night, but they were everywhere.
'I can't walk unnoticed down a street. The whispers, insistent as they were at Balamb Garden. However, unlike the comforting comments on the night of the party, its like soaking in a pool congealed blood. You take no comfort from an experience such as that, just a need to be released.' Quitis thought, realizing how in depth her conversations to herself had become. That disturbed her a little.
She walked slowly into the first clothing store she passed and bought a simple black outfit and a hat with long floppy sides. Unsure of her standings Quitis asked if she would be able to wear the outfit. The shop keeper replied with a quick yes, not wanting to seem as though she had taken any sort of liking to the outcast.
She decided she needed a new look, her face was plastered everywhere, she couldn't escape the whispers without changing her face. She stopped into a small beauty parlor she saw on the upscale side of town. She had money, she never really spent it before, but now she had no bonds or reasons to save it.
The parlors, Restructure, was a large extremely pink building in the fountain square. When she entered all eyes were on her. She despised this feeling, one she had thought she had gotten used to, fame is deeply overrated.
She approached the pink front desk and smiled at a pretty black haired girl behind the counter, "I'd like a cut and coloring please." She waited a moment and the girl finally replied, cracking a smile as well.
"Sure. Are you Miss Trepe?" The girl appeared to be a year or so younger then Quitis.
"Could I please just get a cut?" she spoke rather sharply, it bugged her now, she should be treated like any other person. She laughed to herself, Ice queen.
The girl stammered a yes and asked for 50 Gil, which Quitis quickly turned over. She then shouted for Marci, or some name like that, to come and take the new client.
Marci, Quitis noticed, was a 50 or so year old women with choppy grey hair and a drawing to anything grey, as seen in her grey shirt, pants and silver jewelry.
"Hello, I'm Marci," she smiled pleasantly and shook Quitis's hand, "A cut and color my dear?"
Quitis nodded. Marci took off in the direction of a chair at the back of the parlor. Quitis followed close behind and realized that Marci was trying to give her some privacy.
"Thanks, I couldn't bear the stares," she mumbled quietly.
"Its nothing dear. Now what would you like done with your hair?" She smiled into the mirror.
Quitis took a seat in the chair and spoke lightly, "Anything as long as I don't look the same."
Marci made no noise after that, giving Quitis the much needed silence she craved. However an hour later a new Quitis emerged.
She had allowed Marci to chop her hair off into a short bob and dye it deep brown [sorry if you liked Quitis being blonde, she needed to change her look drastically]. It looked good but Quitis felt bare. When she stared in the mirror she could hardly recognize herself.
Although she couldn't quite relax with her new hair, she was sure no one would recognize her, no one whom didn't know her closely.
'Hyne Quitis, why are you so worked up, it was only hair,' she scolded herself as she left the parlor. The whispers stopped, or at least were no longer directed at her. She had been walking only ten minutes when she noticed a sign in a nightclub window, 'The Dollet NightLife';
'HELP WANTED inquire within'
Quitis took it as a sign from above. Despite what she had heard about an increasing market for jobs in Dollet, this was the first sign she had seen advertising a need for human labor. She uncomfortably patted down her hair and entered the bubble frosted door.
The club was clad in black and white. It look expensive, she sighed to herself hoping that it paid as well as it looked to. The floor was paneled in black plastic, walls alternating between frost black glass with lights behind it and white glass, several other glass sheets scattered the sunken dance floor.
There was nobody in sight.
"Hello, Hello, I've come to ask about the job offering in the window," she shouted clearly. Nobody popped out from behind the glass paneling as Quitis had half expected someone to. She waited a minute and turned to leave when someone rushed inside the door knocking her down.
Someone outside shouted 'STOP THEIF!' And Quitis started struggling to get out from underneath the accused person who was on top of her.
She would have started screaming had it not been for the persons leather gloved hand tightly covering her mouth. She was terrified, pinned down on the ground and not able to speak. She continued to struggle but the person was too heavy. 'Hyne I wish I had my whip.'
Whoever had been screaming outside had passed the door and lost the thief, causing the body on top of her to roll off cautiously, still keeping Quitis quiet with their palm.
Quitis of course stood up at the first available moment, shouted, "What the hell!" And kicked the person, who she noticed was guy, exactly where he did not want to be kicked, you guessed it.
It was then of course, when he had fallen to the ground groaning, when she recognized him.
Her eyes grew wide with shock, Seifer Alamsay. Both of her hands went up to her head and pulled through her hair, a common gesture she used while stressed. Now her hair was much to short to really comfort her.
Seifer looked up from the ground into the eyes of someone he almost recognized, but not quite, he couldn't quite get it down. "Hyne I wasn't going to fucking hurt you, you were just in the way!" he shouted as if he had planned it.
"Well you could've gotten off me Seifer," she paused, he obviously had no clear recollection of her from the unrelated look in his eyes, but now he knew he had been found out. Quitis should have recognized him when she had a clear view of the fire-cross on a grey jacket arm while pinned to the ground.
"Why did you call me by my first name," he stared inquisitively, wondering why the girl hadn't ran like hell yet. He stood up waiting for the reply.
"What do you mean, there are pictures of you everywhere, Seifer Alamsay? Right," she spoke uneasily.
Surprisingly he ran his hand through his blonde hair just as Quitis had attempted before speaking, "No its just people usually address me as that fucking traitor, lapdog or the incompetent night, something along those lines, I just ignore them anyways, bastards."
Quitis had heard all of these names before, and many more, people seemed to have made it a pass time to think up embarrassing and degrading names for Seifer, she just never thought he heard them. Seifer was forgiven of the killings, said to be (willingly) under Ultemecia's control, and he was expelled from the Garden, some say paroled. No one had heard from him since.
"Well I'll call you Seifer," I said quickly. She pondered why Seifer was in Dollet, such a quiet city.
"Don't fucking talk like you know me, I'd rather a stranger call me anything but that," Seifer bellowed trying to intimidate the girl. He was thinner now, loosing his fat almost all together, whatever little there had been of it. He gave the appearance of someone harder, he was leaner then before, unshaven and his eyes seemed to have darkened.
"Fine," oh how she wanted to tell him who she was, but that would bring too many questions she didn't want to answer, "Why were you running?"
"Why the hell would I tell you, why the hell am I talking to you," he stormed off into the back of the club. Quitis heard some distant voices and a man emerged from the door at the back.
He was about 6'5, well built and 20 something years old. He appeared intimidating, black eyes, black hair, sharp features, but his instant smile changed that perception as he went up to meet Quitis.
"Hello, I'm Nex, I own this club, sorry I was busy when I heard you before," he stuck out a hand which Quitis shook, looking up at him from a foot below.
"Quitis, Quitis Trepe, I was wondering about the job opening," she tried to smile as she flipped her hair back over to its respective sides. She realized she must've looked like shit, seeing as she was just knocked to the ground by a fleeing criminal, "Sorry about my appearance, someone just." She paused and noticed Seifer staring out from the door at the back of the club, smirking and mouthing 'instructor' at her. She glared past the man, which only made Seifer's grin intensify mockingly.
"Seifer right, Seifer just did something," Nex added knowingly, Nex had known Seifer ever since he had retreated to Dollet a year ago, "Just ignore him. Our job openings for a bartender, basic bartender, you'd just be getting straight drinks, beers, coolers, wine, things like that. We're desperate, so if you want the job, you're hired. Pay is 100 Gil a night plus tips and I can provide an apartment upstairs for a small rent."
To Quitis, who was still glaring at Seifer, this sounded perfect, especially the rent. "Sure, when can I start?" she intently watched Nex, trying so very hard not to give Seifer the attention he craved.
"Tonight would be great, and Seifer can show you the apartment, he's our bouncer. He lives here as well," at his intro Seifer walked out of the back door and up to Quitis. At Seifers' arrival Nex departed with a quick wave and shouted 'be here at 9'o'clock sharp.'
"Knew I recognized you instructor," he snickered, for no apparent reason, what was so evil about that? He wondered why he tried to make everything an insult.
"I'm not an instructor anymore Seifer, thanks to you, and I'm not even SeeD so stop calling me that," she spoke coldly.
"Fine, instructor, seems like I'll be forced to see a lot of you," his smile was gone, maybe he was really trying to be kind before, in his own demented way. "Follow me." At his last word he turned and walked through the door at the back of the club, which happened to open into a huge computer room and electric room. He continued to walk towards a black staircase in the back of the room and eventually ran up it. The second story was all a warm orange tone, lined with apartment doors, about seven of them.
"You get number 2," he slipped a key out of his sleeve and opened the door. Somehow it was not comforting to Quitis that Seifer was her indirect landlord.
Quitis practically screeched when he opened the door to a cream colored room. It was simply laid out, bedroom, small kitchen, bathroom, but all of it reminded her of the dress, and the night. She walked in expecting Seifer to leave and laid down on the bed, "Welcome to reoccurring hell Quitis."
"What did you say," Seifer questioned loudly from the doorframe.
"Leave the key on the kitchen counter," she mumbled exhausted, "Now go away."
Surprisingly Seifer didn't put up a fight. He knew that was not close to what she said, but why did he care. He simply obeyed and left.
And for the first time in days, Quitis Trepe slept and could think of no reason why. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------- Note: Insanely not happy about this chapter, seems really forced [^ pretty dotted line] *its getting updated to fast because I finished one and two before I started posting. This chapters weird, should I redo it where Seifer doesn't recognize her? Or they meet a different way, not extremely inspired at the moment, the mysterious meeting kind of overdone.
Thanks to everybody who reviews!
OOooooOOOooooo look I added a disclaimer (crawls out from illusion that she owns the world); if some reason you didn't know (which I highly doubt) squaresoft owns final fantasy, all of it, accept the characters I made up, which are quite obvious because they have no depth! Hurray!
Chapter 3 [REVISED]
Quitis Trepe rubbed her eyes as they slowly adjusted to the sparse light outside of the train cabin.
Dollet, her new home.
She walked to the end of the train to gather her bag. She sighed at the thought that this bag held her life, what fragmented pieces there were left of it.
She politely asked the worker for the large duffel bag under the name Trepe. She ignored the glare from the tall man who was obviously aware of her past.
'Oh, great, even people who don't know me despise me,' she thought, 'what abhors me the most is they have reason, I can't even imagine how much Rinoa wishes me to have in no way existed.'
The man almost shoved the duffel at her, she decided not to comment to him, but to allow him to live in his disillusioned world that all stories were one sided, that she had no reasons for being with Squall then to steal her away from Rinoa. Nobody new about the deep rooted love, the betrayl, the lies she was fed.
Rinoa was always thought of the heroine. Every book written on Ultimecia had either Squall or Rinoa on the cover, they were the least camera shy. She smiled to herself thinking of how Zell would always complain that he was defiantly cute enough to be on a cover.
It all made sense that no one in the general public would care for Quitis's side, it just hurt Quitis that none of her friends wanted to listen either.
Quitis dragged her bag further away from the man to avoid his scornful look, which was getting to her the way a child fidgets when his mother glares. She pulled her bag upon her shoulders and prepared for many more looks, many more whispers and reopening of wounds.
The streets of Dollet were surprisingly quiet. So quiet in fact that it seemed to harbor no night life at all. She was rather thankful but kept to the main streets for safety. She was trying her best to avoid angry mobs wanting to burn her at the stake.
Dollet Inn loomed before her, faded sign barely catching the glimmer of a nearby street lamp. Relieved, Quitis broke into a faster walk, that's when she saw the shadow, in the alley before the Inn. She walked faster, trying to avoid the shadow, which was moving humanly.
Bam, whomever it was took her down as she passed the alley way. Quitis was not weak, just behind on her training. As the man grabbed the bag, she kicked her leg underneath him, causing him to fall to the ground. She realized he was too big, without her whip she couldn't take him down.
She grabbed for the duffels zipper as he stood, ripping it open. She prayed instantly, and for once the prayer was answered, as the man ran off with her bag, her two most precious possessions fell out; her whip and her journal. Quitis was pained wondering how much her thoughts would be worth with the scandal, thousands more then the jewelry to some odd fool.
She smiled quite oddly to herself. The man had made off with her pearls and other jewelry, but she had placed her money in her boot. She would be okay, clothes could be replaced, memories cannot.
The women at the front desk looked at the blonde haired girl strangely. She resembled Quitis Trepe, one of the famed defeaters of Ultimecia, dethroned from glory by recent scandal. She had to wonder, however, why in the world would Quitis Trepe be wondering into Dollet Inn at four in the morning? Especially with bruises up the side of her face and no luggage? She shudder to herself, cursing the manager for putting her on night shift, it always did make her feel loony.
"Hello and good evening Madame," she spoke rehearsed and obviously staring at the dirt clinging to the strangers hair.
"A nights stay please, maybe more," she was solemn once again, cursing herself for moments later being happy to save her memories. Why in the world would she want to remember that?
"Sure, 200 Gil please," the women smiled, miles away, "And your name?"
Quitis handed over the money and signed herself in as Senya Adema. This of course left the night clerk more confused, and as Quitis walked off with a key she heard the clerk mumble something to herself.
____________________________________________________________________________ ___
[Quitis's thoughts]
Sleep.Why can't I sleep? I deserve to be punished but dear Hyne, our goddess, deprive an animal of reconstruction?! I think too much. Sleep is an unconscious state, no thought, just existence. Why am I not blessed with the ability to sleep, it is five' o'clock in the morning, and I have not slept for 68 hours, I fear a coma coming on. I might as well think then.
Its horrible to admit it, but I could always sleep with Squall's arms around me, even knowing that deep down inside it wasn't real. I felt just as empty with him though, it was just the comfort. Or so I tell myself. I feel so used, so horrible, so disgusting, I feel like I should have showered for days, not mere minutes.
Who was I to do what I have done? I shouldn't have allowed Squall to use me.I should have denied it. I don't know if I would have had the willpower.
I wish I could talk to my friends, no matter what they think of me now, tell them what happened. I doubt they'd understand. Its easy for lonely to relate with lonely, but can a sad person ever truly express themselves to someone who had never felt that pain? They all had one another, each one a structure, not a freestanding pole.
Why does it always come down to this, damnit Quitis accept it was your fault, maybe you'll get some sleep.
Quitis had just decided that human emotions were terrible coughs in evolutions steady breath when she decided to rise. It was nine' o' clock in the morning, and even though she slept none, the sun seemed to be radiating energy.
She slowly walked to the slightly grubby washroom and turned on the shower. Showers were somewhat obsessive to her, she tried to use them to scrub away the mental grime. It was a slightly off balance activity which she indulged in rather then took task.
She emerged forty-five minutes later feeling slightly better; at least she didn't feel like complete hell. That's when the realization struck that she had no clean clothing.
She pulled on her dirty outfit and decided to go shopping.
She hadn't expected the stares, be it the lack of them she attracted last night, but they were everywhere.
'I can't walk unnoticed down a street. The whispers, insistent as they were at Balamb Garden. However, unlike the comforting comments on the night of the party, its like soaking in a pool congealed blood. You take no comfort from an experience such as that, just a need to be released.' Quitis thought, realizing how in depth her conversations to herself had become. That disturbed her a little.
She walked slowly into the first clothing store she passed and bought a simple black outfit and a hat with long floppy sides. Unsure of her standings Quitis asked if she would be able to wear the outfit. The shop keeper replied with a quick yes, not wanting to seem as though she had taken any sort of liking to the outcast.
She decided she needed a new look, her face was plastered everywhere, she couldn't escape the whispers without changing her face. She stopped into a small beauty parlor she saw on the upscale side of town. She had money, she never really spent it before, but now she had no bonds or reasons to save it.
The parlors, Restructure, was a large extremely pink building in the fountain square. When she entered all eyes were on her. She despised this feeling, one she had thought she had gotten used to, fame is deeply overrated.
She approached the pink front desk and smiled at a pretty black haired girl behind the counter, "I'd like a cut and coloring please." She waited a moment and the girl finally replied, cracking a smile as well.
"Sure. Are you Miss Trepe?" The girl appeared to be a year or so younger then Quitis.
"Could I please just get a cut?" she spoke rather sharply, it bugged her now, she should be treated like any other person. She laughed to herself, Ice queen.
The girl stammered a yes and asked for 50 Gil, which Quitis quickly turned over. She then shouted for Marci, or some name like that, to come and take the new client.
Marci, Quitis noticed, was a 50 or so year old women with choppy grey hair and a drawing to anything grey, as seen in her grey shirt, pants and silver jewelry.
"Hello, I'm Marci," she smiled pleasantly and shook Quitis's hand, "A cut and color my dear?"
Quitis nodded. Marci took off in the direction of a chair at the back of the parlor. Quitis followed close behind and realized that Marci was trying to give her some privacy.
"Thanks, I couldn't bear the stares," she mumbled quietly.
"Its nothing dear. Now what would you like done with your hair?" She smiled into the mirror.
Quitis took a seat in the chair and spoke lightly, "Anything as long as I don't look the same."
Marci made no noise after that, giving Quitis the much needed silence she craved. However an hour later a new Quitis emerged.
She had allowed Marci to chop her hair off into a short bob and dye it deep brown [sorry if you liked Quitis being blonde, she needed to change her look drastically]. It looked good but Quitis felt bare. When she stared in the mirror she could hardly recognize herself.
Although she couldn't quite relax with her new hair, she was sure no one would recognize her, no one whom didn't know her closely.
'Hyne Quitis, why are you so worked up, it was only hair,' she scolded herself as she left the parlor. The whispers stopped, or at least were no longer directed at her. She had been walking only ten minutes when she noticed a sign in a nightclub window, 'The Dollet NightLife';
'HELP WANTED inquire within'
Quitis took it as a sign from above. Despite what she had heard about an increasing market for jobs in Dollet, this was the first sign she had seen advertising a need for human labor. She uncomfortably patted down her hair and entered the bubble frosted door.
The club was clad in black and white. It look expensive, she sighed to herself hoping that it paid as well as it looked to. The floor was paneled in black plastic, walls alternating between frost black glass with lights behind it and white glass, several other glass sheets scattered the sunken dance floor.
There was nobody in sight.
"Hello, Hello, I've come to ask about the job offering in the window," she shouted clearly. Nobody popped out from behind the glass paneling as Quitis had half expected someone to. She waited a minute and turned to leave when someone rushed inside the door knocking her down.
Someone outside shouted 'STOP THEIF!' And Quitis started struggling to get out from underneath the accused person who was on top of her.
She would have started screaming had it not been for the persons leather gloved hand tightly covering her mouth. She was terrified, pinned down on the ground and not able to speak. She continued to struggle but the person was too heavy. 'Hyne I wish I had my whip.'
Whoever had been screaming outside had passed the door and lost the thief, causing the body on top of her to roll off cautiously, still keeping Quitis quiet with their palm.
Quitis of course stood up at the first available moment, shouted, "What the hell!" And kicked the person, who she noticed was guy, exactly where he did not want to be kicked, you guessed it.
It was then of course, when he had fallen to the ground groaning, when she recognized him.
Her eyes grew wide with shock, Seifer Alamsay. Both of her hands went up to her head and pulled through her hair, a common gesture she used while stressed. Now her hair was much to short to really comfort her.
Seifer looked up from the ground into the eyes of someone he almost recognized, but not quite, he couldn't quite get it down. "Hyne I wasn't going to fucking hurt you, you were just in the way!" he shouted as if he had planned it.
"Well you could've gotten off me Seifer," she paused, he obviously had no clear recollection of her from the unrelated look in his eyes, but now he knew he had been found out. Quitis should have recognized him when she had a clear view of the fire-cross on a grey jacket arm while pinned to the ground.
"Why did you call me by my first name," he stared inquisitively, wondering why the girl hadn't ran like hell yet. He stood up waiting for the reply.
"What do you mean, there are pictures of you everywhere, Seifer Alamsay? Right," she spoke uneasily.
Surprisingly he ran his hand through his blonde hair just as Quitis had attempted before speaking, "No its just people usually address me as that fucking traitor, lapdog or the incompetent night, something along those lines, I just ignore them anyways, bastards."
Quitis had heard all of these names before, and many more, people seemed to have made it a pass time to think up embarrassing and degrading names for Seifer, she just never thought he heard them. Seifer was forgiven of the killings, said to be (willingly) under Ultemecia's control, and he was expelled from the Garden, some say paroled. No one had heard from him since.
"Well I'll call you Seifer," I said quickly. She pondered why Seifer was in Dollet, such a quiet city.
"Don't fucking talk like you know me, I'd rather a stranger call me anything but that," Seifer bellowed trying to intimidate the girl. He was thinner now, loosing his fat almost all together, whatever little there had been of it. He gave the appearance of someone harder, he was leaner then before, unshaven and his eyes seemed to have darkened.
"Fine," oh how she wanted to tell him who she was, but that would bring too many questions she didn't want to answer, "Why were you running?"
"Why the hell would I tell you, why the hell am I talking to you," he stormed off into the back of the club. Quitis heard some distant voices and a man emerged from the door at the back.
He was about 6'5, well built and 20 something years old. He appeared intimidating, black eyes, black hair, sharp features, but his instant smile changed that perception as he went up to meet Quitis.
"Hello, I'm Nex, I own this club, sorry I was busy when I heard you before," he stuck out a hand which Quitis shook, looking up at him from a foot below.
"Quitis, Quitis Trepe, I was wondering about the job opening," she tried to smile as she flipped her hair back over to its respective sides. She realized she must've looked like shit, seeing as she was just knocked to the ground by a fleeing criminal, "Sorry about my appearance, someone just." She paused and noticed Seifer staring out from the door at the back of the club, smirking and mouthing 'instructor' at her. She glared past the man, which only made Seifer's grin intensify mockingly.
"Seifer right, Seifer just did something," Nex added knowingly, Nex had known Seifer ever since he had retreated to Dollet a year ago, "Just ignore him. Our job openings for a bartender, basic bartender, you'd just be getting straight drinks, beers, coolers, wine, things like that. We're desperate, so if you want the job, you're hired. Pay is 100 Gil a night plus tips and I can provide an apartment upstairs for a small rent."
To Quitis, who was still glaring at Seifer, this sounded perfect, especially the rent. "Sure, when can I start?" she intently watched Nex, trying so very hard not to give Seifer the attention he craved.
"Tonight would be great, and Seifer can show you the apartment, he's our bouncer. He lives here as well," at his intro Seifer walked out of the back door and up to Quitis. At Seifers' arrival Nex departed with a quick wave and shouted 'be here at 9'o'clock sharp.'
"Knew I recognized you instructor," he snickered, for no apparent reason, what was so evil about that? He wondered why he tried to make everything an insult.
"I'm not an instructor anymore Seifer, thanks to you, and I'm not even SeeD so stop calling me that," she spoke coldly.
"Fine, instructor, seems like I'll be forced to see a lot of you," his smile was gone, maybe he was really trying to be kind before, in his own demented way. "Follow me." At his last word he turned and walked through the door at the back of the club, which happened to open into a huge computer room and electric room. He continued to walk towards a black staircase in the back of the room and eventually ran up it. The second story was all a warm orange tone, lined with apartment doors, about seven of them.
"You get number 2," he slipped a key out of his sleeve and opened the door. Somehow it was not comforting to Quitis that Seifer was her indirect landlord.
Quitis practically screeched when he opened the door to a cream colored room. It was simply laid out, bedroom, small kitchen, bathroom, but all of it reminded her of the dress, and the night. She walked in expecting Seifer to leave and laid down on the bed, "Welcome to reoccurring hell Quitis."
"What did you say," Seifer questioned loudly from the doorframe.
"Leave the key on the kitchen counter," she mumbled exhausted, "Now go away."
Surprisingly Seifer didn't put up a fight. He knew that was not close to what she said, but why did he care. He simply obeyed and left.
And for the first time in days, Quitis Trepe slept and could think of no reason why. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------- Note: Insanely not happy about this chapter, seems really forced [^ pretty dotted line] *its getting updated to fast because I finished one and two before I started posting. This chapters weird, should I redo it where Seifer doesn't recognize her? Or they meet a different way, not extremely inspired at the moment, the mysterious meeting kind of overdone.