Disclaimer: Most of the characters in this story belong to JK Rowling. But I do warn you that I own the plot of this story.
A/N: The way I illustrate Cho here will seriously be really different from the good-girl image you have of her. Just in case you decide to flame me for making her character out of place, take in mind that she is how I portray her and this is my story, so don't be telling me about how she should be like. :P By the way, thanks for the reviews. I'd give you each a brownie but I don't know where you live. ;}
June 22, 2003
Cho's POV
"Jesus Christ! This is so annoying!" I complained for the fiftieth time while I started on filling my job application. It's my sixth job for the year and it's only June. Yeah, I pissed off a few of the customers or the coworkers, whichever came first, in the last five jobs, so what, sue me! It was really getting annoying to work at a fast food restaurant and be ordered around by jerks. The last manager I worked with got a broken nose for calling me a "weak Chinese." Shits like that really get on my nerves. Every other coworker within the year either got a bruised eye or an injured crotch. That is very funny actually; I love their expressions when they get punched by a girl, especially a five feet four, 110 pound one! Hah! Take that, Rick's Deli Store!
I've changed a lot since the last seven years. After the simple funeral for my mum, I moved to America. When I came to this country, I decided to live a normal muggle life, something my mother never got to live. Naturally, I stored my wand in my save, and I'm not planning to let it see the daylight, ever.
California is quite different from where I used to live. No more humid weather in the summer and gone with the constant snow in the winter that keeps me trapped at home. At least here, I get all the sunshine I want. Although I don't go to the beach very often, I still got a pretty good tan. What can I say? I don't have a car. So most of the time, I walked to and fro work. Buses were never my style. The Metro seriously annoys the crap out of me. Every other guy who comes on the bus is a pervert. I swear, if they don't keep their eyes at where they should be, I'll personally make sure to pull those eyeballs out of their sockets and hang them on the door of the bus like mistletoes.
Not only has my attitude changed, but my appearance as well. My hair is short to the point where it's just below the ear, that is when it's feathered. Most of the time, my hair's feathered, not that I ever do anything with my hair. It all depends on how I sleep. Sometimes I'll wake up with hair that strokes outward, and other times, it'll be lob-sided. Screw it, I don't care.
If you search through my entire house, you won't find any girly stuff, no make-up, high heels, platform shoes, or dresses. After all, I don't need them. I've got no one to impress anymore, not that I'm complaining. My wardrobe consists of faded jeans, button-down sweatshirts, and t-shirts. I've got that whole construction worker thing going on, except that I got three piercing on my left ear and two on my right ear. I threw on a pair of preppy, thick-rimmed glasses just to make myself look weird. It's not like I'm nearsighted or farsighted, I just don't want to get noticed, in the good way. I want to scream out, "back off, I've got issues" without having to say it, and apparently my look does the job for me. No, I'm not dirty or smelly. I take showers; in fact, hygiene is my top priority. Let's just say I'm everything I wasn't when I was in school. Don't mistaken; I'm still a female, I'm not planning on becoming a transvestite anytime soon.
"Autumn! I'm getting myself some grubbin'! Want me to get anything for ya?" a tall blonde appeared at the door to my room. Autumn, that's the name I changed into when I came. I wanted to change from the past yet keep something to remember with. Well, Autumn is the closest thing I could come up with for my name. Cho was Chinese for Fall, and if I am going to change my name, I intend to keep it at least a bit like my original name. Autumn Lee was my full name to be exact. Lee was my mum's surname, I got rid of Chang because I wanted nothing to do with that lump of beef who I used to call dad.
"No thanks, Jean, I'm living off pretty fine with these," I said casually, pointing at the bag of Cheetos that lay on the top of my stomach. I don't watch what I eat, but who cares? I don't need to watch my weight like stupid models. I get enough training from running everyday.
Jean's hazel eyes narrowed with disapproval and scanned my room.
"Gee, girl, when was the last time you cleaned up you room?" she shifted her leg and covered half of her lips with her well-manicured hands, something she'll do when she's not satisfied about something.
I threw the nearest pillow I could find at her so she'll shut up and get on with her business. She giggled as she dodged the flying object. "Fine! I'll go, pig!" She stuck out her tongue at me before she left.
I laughed at her face; she seriously was a great person. Jean is the closest thing I have to a friend, a very good housemate indeed. But I still try to distance myself from her as much as possible. After Marietta, I didn't trust anyone to be my friend. Many acquaintances I have met would label me as a bitch because I don't open up to them and I'm not exactly the warmest loaf of bread in the neighborhood. But Jean saw through my exterior. We worked side by side at Rick's Deli Store. Even when I tried to ignore her, she tried to get to know me and always seemed so cheerful. I really can't help but fall to like her. She's caring, kind, fun, but a bit too girly for me. If I were like how I was seven years ago, I would have gotten along with her real well, not that I'm not right now. What I'm saying is, we would have been reading the latest issue of Vanity, Glamour, and Cosmopolitan; discussing about the cute guys that live in the same apartment building, or go shopping together. But everything's changed now.
I tapped my number 2 pencil on the desk as I continued on with my job application. Emergency contacts? Hm, I guess I'll put down Jean. Relatives are out of the question. When I was in London, I didn't even have relatives, not that I know of at least. Dad failed to discuss about his side of the family and I didn't push him. I heard that he came from a thief family; it doesn't matter to me anymore. Mum's parents disowned her when she decided to run away with my dad and get marry, so I never knew them either. What can I say? I grew up as an only child, no cousins, no aunts, no uncles; that was the life before. It really doesn't differ from now, except that I don't even have parents now. I shrugged as I thought about that.
Done! Finally! Now all I have to do is walk down to the grocery store and turn in the application. I don't think I'll have much trouble getting the job, it's not like people are going crazy for this job. On the other hand, I'm pretty well acquainted with the manager. He's one of the few people I could stand. I think we met a while ago when he was still dating Jean, but now, they're just friends.
***
"Autumn! To what pleasure to I owe for you to appear at this time of the day?" Zach said as he ran his hands through his dark brown shaggy hair. There goes one of his mischievous smile again.
"Don't you have better things to do than to stand around in the store?" I asked with one eyebrow raised.
"Why, I knew you were coming and so I wanted to greet you like any gentleman would," he did a bow to prove his point. That really earned him a laugh.
"Real funny, tell me the truth," I punched him playfully. Zach's been trying to ask me out, but I'm just not interested in dating right now. Actually, I gave up dating long ago. The last person I dated only wanted to get into my pants. Whoops, that's Draco. I may look like I'm the kind to just get lay every other night, but I only made love once in my life. Wait, I made love, Draco had sex. It's a one-sided thing. Addiction to sex was not me, I don't need to live off on it. Really, I'm doing pretty fine without sex or guys.
"Hey, can I have a break?" Zach waved me away casually.
"Please, I know you don't get your break until ten after 12, and it's only 11," I shot him a don't-you-dare-lie-to-me look.
"Fine, fine, I'm lazy, so what?" Zach took off his apron as he stated, "What are you doing here?"
"Applying for the job as a cashier, or did you forget?" I crossed my arm impatiently.
"Right, hey, the guys and I are heading down to the bar tonight, want to tag along?" by now, his eyes sparkled with hope.
"Sorry, buddy, can't make it, need to visit granny today," I flashed a lob-sided smile.
"Your lost," he put the apron on and waved at me without looking back while walking down the isle. That was always how he says good-bye. He sometimes intrigues me, but not the sexual kind of way, he just intrigues me...
***
I went into room 401 to be greeted by the sweet aroma of chocolate chip cookies. Granny Jasmine's always been a great cook. I met her a few years back at the San Gabriel Valley Medical Center. Back then, I was volunteering at the hospital. I may look heartless, but I still got a good side; now and then, I like to do some volunteering work.
Granny Jasmine's head poked out of the kitchen to check who entered her neatly organized house. When she realized that it was me, she flashed a toothy grin.
"Come on in, hun," Granny Jasmine really loves to call me names like pumpkin, sweetie, honey, and mushier names like that. I don't mind much. After all, it's been years since I've been treated that way, I'm enjoying myself.
"Smells good, Gran, what's cooking?" I know what she's baking, but I just felt like being rhetorical. At least, I'm not doing it because I love hearing myself talk.
"Cookies, sweetie, thought you'll appreciate it," that's my nice granny. I really have become close to her. I immediately trusted her the first time we talked. She was really down to earth and I love being around her. Since the first time we met, we decided to make it a ritual to meet at her apartment on every Wednesday.
"Aww, you shouldn't have," I gave a childish smile to go along with the tone.
"Oh, quit playing dear, come and help me with the lemonade,"
"Aye aye, captain," I stood up and did a salute before walking into the kitchen. Who said my life sucks?
***
"Jean, I brought some cookies home from Gran," I threw my denim jacket on the couch when I stormed into the apartment. I stopped dead when I saw Jean and a dirty-blond guy making out. By now, I placed the cookies on the kitchen counter and backed away into my room. That was embarrassing, I hope I didn't ruin anything. Of course I did! Oh wells, Jean'll get over it. I threw off my Roxy t-shirt and jeans, and changed into my tank top and cotton pajama pants. I'll need to get a good night sleep just to be on time for my first day's work. I may not be on time for my work most of the time, but I make sure that I'm on time for the first day, just to be on the safe side.
***
I slapped the alarm real hard when the clock buzzed for about two minutes; it certainly takes a lot to wake me up... I threw my black covers aside and sat on the edge of the bed, spacing out. That was how my morning goes. Wake up, lose it for a while, then come back to reality and do whatever I want to do next. I scratched my lower back as I dragged my feet towards the bathroom. Hm... clothes in the hallway, someone was getting it on last night. I smirked, knowing perfectly well what went on in the room at the end of the hall. Jean Jean Jean, my Jean always has guys chasing her. That's my Jean, she's growing up so fast. I smirked as I thought about how silly I am, Jean's two years older than me, but at heart, she's still a teenager. It's no wonder she's got so much energy to spare on me.
After a quick shower, I got into my room with only a towel wrapped around me. When I stepped out of the door, the dirty blonde I saw yesterday stopped abruptly and scanned my body up and down. Asshole, eat your heart out! That would be what Jean would say to guys who check her out. I on the other hand, returned the leering. He's not bad looking. Standing a full head taller than me, he's got a toned body with pale skin. I looked up at his green eyes and his freckled face, hmm... pretty boy, I can see why Jean picked him. Getting tired of the staring contest, I walked past him and closed the door in his face. Typical guy, I said out loud, meaning for him to hear. Boy, I'm such a bitch, and I'm loving it.
***
Seth's POV
"Is everything ready?" Kyle asked for who knows how many times.
"Shut your trap, Kyle! You're annoying the shit out of everyone of us," Scott came in wearing only his baggy pair of cargoes.
"Yeah, dude, you've got to chill, it's not like it's the first time we've done this," a short dark brown-haired guy came in and said.
"I don't know, Aidan, I just don't want any mistakes," Kyle said, shaking his perfectly chiseled face a bit.
"Kyle, you worry too much," I said, while running a hand through my black hair.
"Alright, here's the plan," Scott said while laying out a map.
***
Cho's POV
Today is the day my first paycheck comes out. I rushed to the bank, that stood out among the plain stores on Rush Avenue, right before it closes. Great, a line, I muttered to myself. There was only one line in the bank right now because it's about time to close. While the rest of the staffs were busy cleaning up behind the tellers' bulletproof window, one sat in front of her area to greet all the customers with an impatient forced smile. I don't blame her; I don't like associating with people either, except a select few. I smirked at that thought.
The security guard was about to lock the door temporarily so no other customers could come in. Suddenly all the power in the bank went off and few panicking people started ranting to the bank staffs, bombarding them with questions that I didn¡¦t bother listening to. Then a group of four people in idiotic masks of the presidents consisting of Bill Clinton, Ronald Reagan, George Bush, and Richard Nixon stormed in. Someone's been watching Point Break a little too much, I mocked inwardly. All of them wore uniforms of black, and held shotguns threateningly. I swear I was about to laugh out loud. Say I'm crazy or stupid, whatever floats your boat, but it wasn't the first time I was robbed. I'm smart enough to know that these thieves don't seriously hurt anyone when they don't have to. As soon as those tellers give the money to the thieves, the sooner everyone could go, report to the police what happened, and be comforted by some lame shock counselors. Really, I know exactly what's going to happen. But still, part of me that's still rational is telling me to duck for cover.
"Everybody, down on the floor and no one gets hurt!" a deep voice roared into the panicking air. No shit, Sherlock, I thought. We're all just going to stand and let you shoot us.
The guy wearing the Bill Clinton mask grabbed a load of chains out to lock the main entrance. They're quite quick in their actions, experienced, I observed. After he was done with that, he walked towards the Ronald Reagan wannabe. George Bush was shouting at a frightened redhead to take out all the money from the drawer and put it in that ugly green duffle bag. Richard Nixon, on the other hand, was going into the vault with the manager. Looks to me like Richard Nixon's the one in charged in this pack.
"Don't move!" Ronald Reagan shouted at the old woman, who must be about 67 by now. Kneeling a few feet from my right, she kept shaking and attempted to reach into her purse. Her difficulty in breathing was not a usual sign. I studied her nails, which are beginning to turn blue. Shit, she's going to suffer an asthma attack. I shifted a little to my right and as slow I can, I moved closer to the woman.
"Hey you! What do you think you're doing?" Is this guy daft? Can't he tell the woman's suffering? I didn't say anything for a while, just stared at him, expressionless. God knows I tried biting my tongue to prevent any smart comments from coming out. Now is not the time, I need to help the woman, I persuaded myself to keep my mouth shut. I reached my hand into the woman's purse in search for the medicine she must have been looking for. A gold metal came into contact with forehead and I heard a click. Shit, this guy is daft!
"Back off, right now," his tone was slow and venomous.
"Look, the woman's going to suffer from an asthma attack if she doesn't take her medicine soon!" I reasoned, still looking expressionless. My expression is most definitely betraying how I'm feeling right now. At this moment, my stomach is feeling queasy and I'm a bit dizzy. I may have experienced robberies very often, but never had a gun been pointed at me, at least not like that.
Ronald Reagan glanced at the woman a few times. God, what is he waiting for? I can't tell how he's responding with that mask covering his face. By now the old woman grabbed onto her chest and started wheezing. To hell with it, I reached into the purse as quickly as I can and found a bottle. Before my mind told me what to do, I reached the bottle to her mouth and pushed a few times so the powder calmed her wheeze. As I did that, I caressed her chest.
The guy grabbed me up by the collar and accidentally broke the chain to my locket. He looked at me for a while. From the holes in the mask, I could tell he's got icy blue eyes; gosh, they look just like... Draco's. He traced his finger against the flowers engraved on the silver surface. Oh, no you don't ass wipe! That's my mum's and you're not taking it. I grasped onto his wrist really hard and looked at him threateningly.
"Is something the matter?" Bill Clinton got away from his post, but still pointing his gun towards the other people.
"No, just some problems," Ronald Reagan replied, turning back to me. What is this guy thinking?
"It's time to go! Shit! The police are coming!" George Bush shouted.
They all took a bag each and ran towards the entrance. I, on the other hand, held onto Ronald Reagan's wrist. No way is he walking out the door with my mum's locket. He's one shit of a bastard to try to steal something as precious as that from me. I could tell he's really annoyed and once again pulled the gun against my forehead.
"Get off, bitch!"
"In your dreams, fucker!" I said through gritted teeth. I'm not about to give up.
"Come on! What are you waiting for?" one of his partners shouted urgently.
He grabbed me by the waist and flung me around his shoulder. I struggled against his hold until he threw me into a limousine. These people are seriously smart. Police would never suspect some people in limousines to be robbers. I watched helplessly through the tainted windows as some police car passed.
He's not going to get away with this, and I made sure he knows that by biting his arm through his thick sweater. I just hope that somehow, I inflicted pain on that son of a bitch. Unfortunately, darkness took over me when I felt a hard pressure on my head.
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Preview:
Her Eerie black hair fanned over the carpet at my feet and I can't help but stare at her face and realized that her glasses were gone. I must have knocked it off when I picked her up back at the bank. I didn't realize how pretty she was without her glasses. So behind those thick-rimmed glasses was a face of a beauty?
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A/N: I know I know, it's so dern (-- spelled it like this purposely) long, but you made it, didn't you? As of future chapters, I'm not sure if they're going to be as long, but we'll see. Anywho, isn't Cho just a ray of sunshine? If you think she's a rough chick now, I'll forewarn you that there's plenty of where that came from. Basically what I'm trying to say is that Cho has been through a rough time and her way of coping with it is not to cry all the time (not like what she did in the fifth book), but to turn bitter against humanity. Again, reviews will greatly be appreciated.
A/N: The way I illustrate Cho here will seriously be really different from the good-girl image you have of her. Just in case you decide to flame me for making her character out of place, take in mind that she is how I portray her and this is my story, so don't be telling me about how she should be like. :P By the way, thanks for the reviews. I'd give you each a brownie but I don't know where you live. ;}
June 22, 2003
Cho's POV
"Jesus Christ! This is so annoying!" I complained for the fiftieth time while I started on filling my job application. It's my sixth job for the year and it's only June. Yeah, I pissed off a few of the customers or the coworkers, whichever came first, in the last five jobs, so what, sue me! It was really getting annoying to work at a fast food restaurant and be ordered around by jerks. The last manager I worked with got a broken nose for calling me a "weak Chinese." Shits like that really get on my nerves. Every other coworker within the year either got a bruised eye or an injured crotch. That is very funny actually; I love their expressions when they get punched by a girl, especially a five feet four, 110 pound one! Hah! Take that, Rick's Deli Store!
I've changed a lot since the last seven years. After the simple funeral for my mum, I moved to America. When I came to this country, I decided to live a normal muggle life, something my mother never got to live. Naturally, I stored my wand in my save, and I'm not planning to let it see the daylight, ever.
California is quite different from where I used to live. No more humid weather in the summer and gone with the constant snow in the winter that keeps me trapped at home. At least here, I get all the sunshine I want. Although I don't go to the beach very often, I still got a pretty good tan. What can I say? I don't have a car. So most of the time, I walked to and fro work. Buses were never my style. The Metro seriously annoys the crap out of me. Every other guy who comes on the bus is a pervert. I swear, if they don't keep their eyes at where they should be, I'll personally make sure to pull those eyeballs out of their sockets and hang them on the door of the bus like mistletoes.
Not only has my attitude changed, but my appearance as well. My hair is short to the point where it's just below the ear, that is when it's feathered. Most of the time, my hair's feathered, not that I ever do anything with my hair. It all depends on how I sleep. Sometimes I'll wake up with hair that strokes outward, and other times, it'll be lob-sided. Screw it, I don't care.
If you search through my entire house, you won't find any girly stuff, no make-up, high heels, platform shoes, or dresses. After all, I don't need them. I've got no one to impress anymore, not that I'm complaining. My wardrobe consists of faded jeans, button-down sweatshirts, and t-shirts. I've got that whole construction worker thing going on, except that I got three piercing on my left ear and two on my right ear. I threw on a pair of preppy, thick-rimmed glasses just to make myself look weird. It's not like I'm nearsighted or farsighted, I just don't want to get noticed, in the good way. I want to scream out, "back off, I've got issues" without having to say it, and apparently my look does the job for me. No, I'm not dirty or smelly. I take showers; in fact, hygiene is my top priority. Let's just say I'm everything I wasn't when I was in school. Don't mistaken; I'm still a female, I'm not planning on becoming a transvestite anytime soon.
"Autumn! I'm getting myself some grubbin'! Want me to get anything for ya?" a tall blonde appeared at the door to my room. Autumn, that's the name I changed into when I came. I wanted to change from the past yet keep something to remember with. Well, Autumn is the closest thing I could come up with for my name. Cho was Chinese for Fall, and if I am going to change my name, I intend to keep it at least a bit like my original name. Autumn Lee was my full name to be exact. Lee was my mum's surname, I got rid of Chang because I wanted nothing to do with that lump of beef who I used to call dad.
"No thanks, Jean, I'm living off pretty fine with these," I said casually, pointing at the bag of Cheetos that lay on the top of my stomach. I don't watch what I eat, but who cares? I don't need to watch my weight like stupid models. I get enough training from running everyday.
Jean's hazel eyes narrowed with disapproval and scanned my room.
"Gee, girl, when was the last time you cleaned up you room?" she shifted her leg and covered half of her lips with her well-manicured hands, something she'll do when she's not satisfied about something.
I threw the nearest pillow I could find at her so she'll shut up and get on with her business. She giggled as she dodged the flying object. "Fine! I'll go, pig!" She stuck out her tongue at me before she left.
I laughed at her face; she seriously was a great person. Jean is the closest thing I have to a friend, a very good housemate indeed. But I still try to distance myself from her as much as possible. After Marietta, I didn't trust anyone to be my friend. Many acquaintances I have met would label me as a bitch because I don't open up to them and I'm not exactly the warmest loaf of bread in the neighborhood. But Jean saw through my exterior. We worked side by side at Rick's Deli Store. Even when I tried to ignore her, she tried to get to know me and always seemed so cheerful. I really can't help but fall to like her. She's caring, kind, fun, but a bit too girly for me. If I were like how I was seven years ago, I would have gotten along with her real well, not that I'm not right now. What I'm saying is, we would have been reading the latest issue of Vanity, Glamour, and Cosmopolitan; discussing about the cute guys that live in the same apartment building, or go shopping together. But everything's changed now.
I tapped my number 2 pencil on the desk as I continued on with my job application. Emergency contacts? Hm, I guess I'll put down Jean. Relatives are out of the question. When I was in London, I didn't even have relatives, not that I know of at least. Dad failed to discuss about his side of the family and I didn't push him. I heard that he came from a thief family; it doesn't matter to me anymore. Mum's parents disowned her when she decided to run away with my dad and get marry, so I never knew them either. What can I say? I grew up as an only child, no cousins, no aunts, no uncles; that was the life before. It really doesn't differ from now, except that I don't even have parents now. I shrugged as I thought about that.
Done! Finally! Now all I have to do is walk down to the grocery store and turn in the application. I don't think I'll have much trouble getting the job, it's not like people are going crazy for this job. On the other hand, I'm pretty well acquainted with the manager. He's one of the few people I could stand. I think we met a while ago when he was still dating Jean, but now, they're just friends.
***
"Autumn! To what pleasure to I owe for you to appear at this time of the day?" Zach said as he ran his hands through his dark brown shaggy hair. There goes one of his mischievous smile again.
"Don't you have better things to do than to stand around in the store?" I asked with one eyebrow raised.
"Why, I knew you were coming and so I wanted to greet you like any gentleman would," he did a bow to prove his point. That really earned him a laugh.
"Real funny, tell me the truth," I punched him playfully. Zach's been trying to ask me out, but I'm just not interested in dating right now. Actually, I gave up dating long ago. The last person I dated only wanted to get into my pants. Whoops, that's Draco. I may look like I'm the kind to just get lay every other night, but I only made love once in my life. Wait, I made love, Draco had sex. It's a one-sided thing. Addiction to sex was not me, I don't need to live off on it. Really, I'm doing pretty fine without sex or guys.
"Hey, can I have a break?" Zach waved me away casually.
"Please, I know you don't get your break until ten after 12, and it's only 11," I shot him a don't-you-dare-lie-to-me look.
"Fine, fine, I'm lazy, so what?" Zach took off his apron as he stated, "What are you doing here?"
"Applying for the job as a cashier, or did you forget?" I crossed my arm impatiently.
"Right, hey, the guys and I are heading down to the bar tonight, want to tag along?" by now, his eyes sparkled with hope.
"Sorry, buddy, can't make it, need to visit granny today," I flashed a lob-sided smile.
"Your lost," he put the apron on and waved at me without looking back while walking down the isle. That was always how he says good-bye. He sometimes intrigues me, but not the sexual kind of way, he just intrigues me...
***
I went into room 401 to be greeted by the sweet aroma of chocolate chip cookies. Granny Jasmine's always been a great cook. I met her a few years back at the San Gabriel Valley Medical Center. Back then, I was volunteering at the hospital. I may look heartless, but I still got a good side; now and then, I like to do some volunteering work.
Granny Jasmine's head poked out of the kitchen to check who entered her neatly organized house. When she realized that it was me, she flashed a toothy grin.
"Come on in, hun," Granny Jasmine really loves to call me names like pumpkin, sweetie, honey, and mushier names like that. I don't mind much. After all, it's been years since I've been treated that way, I'm enjoying myself.
"Smells good, Gran, what's cooking?" I know what she's baking, but I just felt like being rhetorical. At least, I'm not doing it because I love hearing myself talk.
"Cookies, sweetie, thought you'll appreciate it," that's my nice granny. I really have become close to her. I immediately trusted her the first time we talked. She was really down to earth and I love being around her. Since the first time we met, we decided to make it a ritual to meet at her apartment on every Wednesday.
"Aww, you shouldn't have," I gave a childish smile to go along with the tone.
"Oh, quit playing dear, come and help me with the lemonade,"
"Aye aye, captain," I stood up and did a salute before walking into the kitchen. Who said my life sucks?
***
"Jean, I brought some cookies home from Gran," I threw my denim jacket on the couch when I stormed into the apartment. I stopped dead when I saw Jean and a dirty-blond guy making out. By now, I placed the cookies on the kitchen counter and backed away into my room. That was embarrassing, I hope I didn't ruin anything. Of course I did! Oh wells, Jean'll get over it. I threw off my Roxy t-shirt and jeans, and changed into my tank top and cotton pajama pants. I'll need to get a good night sleep just to be on time for my first day's work. I may not be on time for my work most of the time, but I make sure that I'm on time for the first day, just to be on the safe side.
***
I slapped the alarm real hard when the clock buzzed for about two minutes; it certainly takes a lot to wake me up... I threw my black covers aside and sat on the edge of the bed, spacing out. That was how my morning goes. Wake up, lose it for a while, then come back to reality and do whatever I want to do next. I scratched my lower back as I dragged my feet towards the bathroom. Hm... clothes in the hallway, someone was getting it on last night. I smirked, knowing perfectly well what went on in the room at the end of the hall. Jean Jean Jean, my Jean always has guys chasing her. That's my Jean, she's growing up so fast. I smirked as I thought about how silly I am, Jean's two years older than me, but at heart, she's still a teenager. It's no wonder she's got so much energy to spare on me.
After a quick shower, I got into my room with only a towel wrapped around me. When I stepped out of the door, the dirty blonde I saw yesterday stopped abruptly and scanned my body up and down. Asshole, eat your heart out! That would be what Jean would say to guys who check her out. I on the other hand, returned the leering. He's not bad looking. Standing a full head taller than me, he's got a toned body with pale skin. I looked up at his green eyes and his freckled face, hmm... pretty boy, I can see why Jean picked him. Getting tired of the staring contest, I walked past him and closed the door in his face. Typical guy, I said out loud, meaning for him to hear. Boy, I'm such a bitch, and I'm loving it.
***
Seth's POV
"Is everything ready?" Kyle asked for who knows how many times.
"Shut your trap, Kyle! You're annoying the shit out of everyone of us," Scott came in wearing only his baggy pair of cargoes.
"Yeah, dude, you've got to chill, it's not like it's the first time we've done this," a short dark brown-haired guy came in and said.
"I don't know, Aidan, I just don't want any mistakes," Kyle said, shaking his perfectly chiseled face a bit.
"Kyle, you worry too much," I said, while running a hand through my black hair.
"Alright, here's the plan," Scott said while laying out a map.
***
Cho's POV
Today is the day my first paycheck comes out. I rushed to the bank, that stood out among the plain stores on Rush Avenue, right before it closes. Great, a line, I muttered to myself. There was only one line in the bank right now because it's about time to close. While the rest of the staffs were busy cleaning up behind the tellers' bulletproof window, one sat in front of her area to greet all the customers with an impatient forced smile. I don't blame her; I don't like associating with people either, except a select few. I smirked at that thought.
The security guard was about to lock the door temporarily so no other customers could come in. Suddenly all the power in the bank went off and few panicking people started ranting to the bank staffs, bombarding them with questions that I didn¡¦t bother listening to. Then a group of four people in idiotic masks of the presidents consisting of Bill Clinton, Ronald Reagan, George Bush, and Richard Nixon stormed in. Someone's been watching Point Break a little too much, I mocked inwardly. All of them wore uniforms of black, and held shotguns threateningly. I swear I was about to laugh out loud. Say I'm crazy or stupid, whatever floats your boat, but it wasn't the first time I was robbed. I'm smart enough to know that these thieves don't seriously hurt anyone when they don't have to. As soon as those tellers give the money to the thieves, the sooner everyone could go, report to the police what happened, and be comforted by some lame shock counselors. Really, I know exactly what's going to happen. But still, part of me that's still rational is telling me to duck for cover.
"Everybody, down on the floor and no one gets hurt!" a deep voice roared into the panicking air. No shit, Sherlock, I thought. We're all just going to stand and let you shoot us.
The guy wearing the Bill Clinton mask grabbed a load of chains out to lock the main entrance. They're quite quick in their actions, experienced, I observed. After he was done with that, he walked towards the Ronald Reagan wannabe. George Bush was shouting at a frightened redhead to take out all the money from the drawer and put it in that ugly green duffle bag. Richard Nixon, on the other hand, was going into the vault with the manager. Looks to me like Richard Nixon's the one in charged in this pack.
"Don't move!" Ronald Reagan shouted at the old woman, who must be about 67 by now. Kneeling a few feet from my right, she kept shaking and attempted to reach into her purse. Her difficulty in breathing was not a usual sign. I studied her nails, which are beginning to turn blue. Shit, she's going to suffer an asthma attack. I shifted a little to my right and as slow I can, I moved closer to the woman.
"Hey you! What do you think you're doing?" Is this guy daft? Can't he tell the woman's suffering? I didn't say anything for a while, just stared at him, expressionless. God knows I tried biting my tongue to prevent any smart comments from coming out. Now is not the time, I need to help the woman, I persuaded myself to keep my mouth shut. I reached my hand into the woman's purse in search for the medicine she must have been looking for. A gold metal came into contact with forehead and I heard a click. Shit, this guy is daft!
"Back off, right now," his tone was slow and venomous.
"Look, the woman's going to suffer from an asthma attack if she doesn't take her medicine soon!" I reasoned, still looking expressionless. My expression is most definitely betraying how I'm feeling right now. At this moment, my stomach is feeling queasy and I'm a bit dizzy. I may have experienced robberies very often, but never had a gun been pointed at me, at least not like that.
Ronald Reagan glanced at the woman a few times. God, what is he waiting for? I can't tell how he's responding with that mask covering his face. By now the old woman grabbed onto her chest and started wheezing. To hell with it, I reached into the purse as quickly as I can and found a bottle. Before my mind told me what to do, I reached the bottle to her mouth and pushed a few times so the powder calmed her wheeze. As I did that, I caressed her chest.
The guy grabbed me up by the collar and accidentally broke the chain to my locket. He looked at me for a while. From the holes in the mask, I could tell he's got icy blue eyes; gosh, they look just like... Draco's. He traced his finger against the flowers engraved on the silver surface. Oh, no you don't ass wipe! That's my mum's and you're not taking it. I grasped onto his wrist really hard and looked at him threateningly.
"Is something the matter?" Bill Clinton got away from his post, but still pointing his gun towards the other people.
"No, just some problems," Ronald Reagan replied, turning back to me. What is this guy thinking?
"It's time to go! Shit! The police are coming!" George Bush shouted.
They all took a bag each and ran towards the entrance. I, on the other hand, held onto Ronald Reagan's wrist. No way is he walking out the door with my mum's locket. He's one shit of a bastard to try to steal something as precious as that from me. I could tell he's really annoyed and once again pulled the gun against my forehead.
"Get off, bitch!"
"In your dreams, fucker!" I said through gritted teeth. I'm not about to give up.
"Come on! What are you waiting for?" one of his partners shouted urgently.
He grabbed me by the waist and flung me around his shoulder. I struggled against his hold until he threw me into a limousine. These people are seriously smart. Police would never suspect some people in limousines to be robbers. I watched helplessly through the tainted windows as some police car passed.
He's not going to get away with this, and I made sure he knows that by biting his arm through his thick sweater. I just hope that somehow, I inflicted pain on that son of a bitch. Unfortunately, darkness took over me when I felt a hard pressure on my head.
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Preview:
Her Eerie black hair fanned over the carpet at my feet and I can't help but stare at her face and realized that her glasses were gone. I must have knocked it off when I picked her up back at the bank. I didn't realize how pretty she was without her glasses. So behind those thick-rimmed glasses was a face of a beauty?
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A/N: I know I know, it's so dern (-- spelled it like this purposely) long, but you made it, didn't you? As of future chapters, I'm not sure if they're going to be as long, but we'll see. Anywho, isn't Cho just a ray of sunshine? If you think she's a rough chick now, I'll forewarn you that there's plenty of where that came from. Basically what I'm trying to say is that Cho has been through a rough time and her way of coping with it is not to cry all the time (not like what she did in the fifth book), but to turn bitter against humanity. Again, reviews will greatly be appreciated.