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Sinful Glory By NinJinChan
Rated R
Chapter 4
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Bowing her head, feeling the eyes of her many peers who had come with her all this way, feeling their emotion bubbling up through their smiling faces, threatening to turn them bittersweet, she slowed raised her gaze to meet all of them, each and everyone.
Taking a deep breath, relishing in the tiny butterflies that flitted to and fro deep in her stomach causing her to flush uncontrollably, yet imperceptibly, adding only a faint hint of color to her pale cheeks which shone in the night air, their sheen perfect in the cool atmosphere.
She let the breath out, releasing the oxygen from her body as her mouth slowly opened, prepared to speak her words of wisdom to this group of teens, no adults, in front of her, ready to tell them her philosophy, her lessons learned in this prison which had held them all for the past twelve years.
"Friends," she began, her voice slightly shaky.
With her next few words it became firm and defined, sure in its tone and meaning, fulfilling the legacy of her mother and father, both known well for their confidence with publicity.
She continued on, speaking eloquently of her times in high school, the hardships she endured, the pain she felt, the obstacles she overcame, the joy she encountered. Each, in turn, was mentioned, filled with passion and vigor in every syllable.
Finishing, she stepped down from the podium, relinquishing it back to the overseeing authority as he clapped, thanked her for her moving words, and then introduced the Valedictorian.
Bra, as Salutatorian, had made an elegant speech, only to be was followed by a small framed boy with huge, coke-bottle glasses, and messy blonde hair, his freckles and stature giving away his position in the high-school hierarchy.
Yet, despite his seemingly nerd-like demeanor, he stunned the crowd, speaking only a few words compared to her lengthy speech.
"In the timeless words of Ralph Waldo Emerson, 'To laugh often and much, to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children, to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends, to appreciate beauty, to find the best in others, to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition, to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived, this is to have succeeded.'"
And with that, he stepped down in the same manner in which Bra had, yet he did not stop and pause for an applause, looking expectantly at the people in the audience as one would have thought.
Instead, he just slowly, yet deliberately, made his way back to his seat and didn't look up ever again for the remainder of the graduation ceremony.
Slowly, one man stood and clapped for the silent gentleman who had said his piece, his wizened words, and then, at a rapidly increasing pace, the rest of the members of the audience began to clap their hands together, the sound reverberating off in the still night air. Even the stars seemed to shine brighter for it.
A faint blush spread across his cheeks and then crawled down his neck until his entire upper body was bright red, overpowering his naturally pale skin. A small smile rested on his lips.
Bra also grinned in glee for her fellow intellectual, however, her eyes did not stay downcast, but instead they sparkling beauties greeted her public and searched the crowd for one familiar scar-faced friend whom, over the years, she had come to rely on for everything.
Upon her eyes reaching his, she flashed him a brilliant smile and her eyes danced when they beheld his rugged frame.
At his toothy response, a light rosy tint entered her porcelain skin and its pale color shone in the soft light.
She then noticed, with a slight tinge of jealousy, the slender arm wrapped snugly about his waist. The arm was attached to an equally slender woman with shimmering black hair that traveled and danced below her waist, its feathery tendrils touching the top of her jeans ever so slightly. Mahogany eyes dazzled behind long, eyelashes and a soft giggle escaped her full cherry lips. She was brilliantly beautiful.
However, tonight, Bra would not let that small fact affect her optimism.
She stood as her name was called, her movements mechanic, her only thoughts on finally reaching that podium for good and receiving that diploma, her declaration of independence from high school education.
Her finely manicured hand grasped the old withered one of the Superintendent as she shook his hand after obtaining the diplomacy, and pulled him into a tight hug, whispering her thanks to him as tears rolled freely down her cheeks, the sobs evident in her shaky voice.
She had finally graduated.
After all these years, all she could think about was the freedom she had finally gained.
Life was good.
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Laughing and giggling, her slender arms slung around the strong shoulders of a tan, muscular human boy wearing a letter jacket, Bra made her way out to the group of cars still clustered in the parking lot, heading out for a night on the town to celebrate her graduation.
They all joked and shared their favorite memories on the drive from the high school to the Warehouse District in Downtown Satan City.
Bra, however, sat silent, calmly snoring against the rock hard chest of the jock she had leaned on the way to the car.
He softly shook her awake as the group piled out of the car, and mumbling a soft profanity, she rubbed her eyes and climbed out after them, setting her feet firmly on the rough pavement below her.
She looped her arm through his offered one and together they took off into the nearest club.
It was a dark building covered with flashing neon lights, aimed to grab the attention of young people out for a good time.
As they entered the club, they payed the small fee, only a ten dollar cover charge, and made their way over to the bar to grab a drink.
Armed with fake identifications stating they were three to four years older than they really were, each ordered their own preference of alcoholic drinks and began to socialize and mingle in the dense crowds.
Bra, wandering off on her own, away from the group she had arrived with, saw a young man, tall in stature, dancing rhythmically, yet alone. Making her way over to him, she set her drink down, and lightly tapped the boy on his shoulder, inquiring with her eyes and slight tilt of her head if she may join him for this dance. He nodded, his jade beauties twinkling with excitement and the vitalizing action of the dance.
As the tempo sped up, so did their bodies, entwining in innocent ecstasy.
Finally, the song ended, leaving them both breathless but with more energy than before, it seemed. Bra invited the young man with a simple gesture back over to the bar for a drink and he gladly complied.
In the dark of the club, with only the flashing lights to guide her perception, she noticed he had clean cut brown hair, parted on the side, simple glasses placed over slightly squinted jade eyes, and incredibly perfect teeth shining brilliantly from behind his smile. He wasn't gorgeous, but he wasn't bad either.
Chatting with him as they rested at the bar, she realized he had this one annoying tendency, to run his hand through his hair as he talked, messing it up and causing it to stand wildly atop his head. He also seemed to blush when she'd touch his shoulder or make any kind of gesture of familiarity.
That last one, of course, she ignored.
Glancing at her watch, she spotted the time, and in a hurry, made her leave, quickly offering her number to the man she had left at the bar, scribbling it in pink ink across his palm.
Hailing a taxi, she made her way home, entered the security code to gain access to her house and then took the stairs two at a time, all in utter silence, hoping in vain that her parents wouldn't awake.
Upon opening the door to her room, there sat Yamcha, a reprimanding look plastered across his normally glee-filled face.
Her smile was quickly replaced with guilt. Placing her hands behind her back, her head down, she slowly made her way over to the chair at her desk upon which she sat down with a soft plop.
"You were supposed to be home by twelve. It's one-thirty now." He said sternly, taking up her parents' responsibility of punishing her.
Grounded. Two weeks.
Yet, as soon as he left the room, with a chaste good-night kiss placed upon his cheek, she pulled out the small card on which was a number written in scratchy black ink with the name Conan above it.
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Sinful Glory By NinJinChan
Rated R
Chapter 4
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- =
Bowing her head, feeling the eyes of her many peers who had come with her all this way, feeling their emotion bubbling up through their smiling faces, threatening to turn them bittersweet, she slowed raised her gaze to meet all of them, each and everyone.
Taking a deep breath, relishing in the tiny butterflies that flitted to and fro deep in her stomach causing her to flush uncontrollably, yet imperceptibly, adding only a faint hint of color to her pale cheeks which shone in the night air, their sheen perfect in the cool atmosphere.
She let the breath out, releasing the oxygen from her body as her mouth slowly opened, prepared to speak her words of wisdom to this group of teens, no adults, in front of her, ready to tell them her philosophy, her lessons learned in this prison which had held them all for the past twelve years.
"Friends," she began, her voice slightly shaky.
With her next few words it became firm and defined, sure in its tone and meaning, fulfilling the legacy of her mother and father, both known well for their confidence with publicity.
She continued on, speaking eloquently of her times in high school, the hardships she endured, the pain she felt, the obstacles she overcame, the joy she encountered. Each, in turn, was mentioned, filled with passion and vigor in every syllable.
Finishing, she stepped down from the podium, relinquishing it back to the overseeing authority as he clapped, thanked her for her moving words, and then introduced the Valedictorian.
Bra, as Salutatorian, had made an elegant speech, only to be was followed by a small framed boy with huge, coke-bottle glasses, and messy blonde hair, his freckles and stature giving away his position in the high-school hierarchy.
Yet, despite his seemingly nerd-like demeanor, he stunned the crowd, speaking only a few words compared to her lengthy speech.
"In the timeless words of Ralph Waldo Emerson, 'To laugh often and much, to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children, to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends, to appreciate beauty, to find the best in others, to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition, to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived, this is to have succeeded.'"
And with that, he stepped down in the same manner in which Bra had, yet he did not stop and pause for an applause, looking expectantly at the people in the audience as one would have thought.
Instead, he just slowly, yet deliberately, made his way back to his seat and didn't look up ever again for the remainder of the graduation ceremony.
Slowly, one man stood and clapped for the silent gentleman who had said his piece, his wizened words, and then, at a rapidly increasing pace, the rest of the members of the audience began to clap their hands together, the sound reverberating off in the still night air. Even the stars seemed to shine brighter for it.
A faint blush spread across his cheeks and then crawled down his neck until his entire upper body was bright red, overpowering his naturally pale skin. A small smile rested on his lips.
Bra also grinned in glee for her fellow intellectual, however, her eyes did not stay downcast, but instead they sparkling beauties greeted her public and searched the crowd for one familiar scar-faced friend whom, over the years, she had come to rely on for everything.
Upon her eyes reaching his, she flashed him a brilliant smile and her eyes danced when they beheld his rugged frame.
At his toothy response, a light rosy tint entered her porcelain skin and its pale color shone in the soft light.
She then noticed, with a slight tinge of jealousy, the slender arm wrapped snugly about his waist. The arm was attached to an equally slender woman with shimmering black hair that traveled and danced below her waist, its feathery tendrils touching the top of her jeans ever so slightly. Mahogany eyes dazzled behind long, eyelashes and a soft giggle escaped her full cherry lips. She was brilliantly beautiful.
However, tonight, Bra would not let that small fact affect her optimism.
She stood as her name was called, her movements mechanic, her only thoughts on finally reaching that podium for good and receiving that diploma, her declaration of independence from high school education.
Her finely manicured hand grasped the old withered one of the Superintendent as she shook his hand after obtaining the diplomacy, and pulled him into a tight hug, whispering her thanks to him as tears rolled freely down her cheeks, the sobs evident in her shaky voice.
She had finally graduated.
After all these years, all she could think about was the freedom she had finally gained.
Life was good.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- =
Laughing and giggling, her slender arms slung around the strong shoulders of a tan, muscular human boy wearing a letter jacket, Bra made her way out to the group of cars still clustered in the parking lot, heading out for a night on the town to celebrate her graduation.
They all joked and shared their favorite memories on the drive from the high school to the Warehouse District in Downtown Satan City.
Bra, however, sat silent, calmly snoring against the rock hard chest of the jock she had leaned on the way to the car.
He softly shook her awake as the group piled out of the car, and mumbling a soft profanity, she rubbed her eyes and climbed out after them, setting her feet firmly on the rough pavement below her.
She looped her arm through his offered one and together they took off into the nearest club.
It was a dark building covered with flashing neon lights, aimed to grab the attention of young people out for a good time.
As they entered the club, they payed the small fee, only a ten dollar cover charge, and made their way over to the bar to grab a drink.
Armed with fake identifications stating they were three to four years older than they really were, each ordered their own preference of alcoholic drinks and began to socialize and mingle in the dense crowds.
Bra, wandering off on her own, away from the group she had arrived with, saw a young man, tall in stature, dancing rhythmically, yet alone. Making her way over to him, she set her drink down, and lightly tapped the boy on his shoulder, inquiring with her eyes and slight tilt of her head if she may join him for this dance. He nodded, his jade beauties twinkling with excitement and the vitalizing action of the dance.
As the tempo sped up, so did their bodies, entwining in innocent ecstasy.
Finally, the song ended, leaving them both breathless but with more energy than before, it seemed. Bra invited the young man with a simple gesture back over to the bar for a drink and he gladly complied.
In the dark of the club, with only the flashing lights to guide her perception, she noticed he had clean cut brown hair, parted on the side, simple glasses placed over slightly squinted jade eyes, and incredibly perfect teeth shining brilliantly from behind his smile. He wasn't gorgeous, but he wasn't bad either.
Chatting with him as they rested at the bar, she realized he had this one annoying tendency, to run his hand through his hair as he talked, messing it up and causing it to stand wildly atop his head. He also seemed to blush when she'd touch his shoulder or make any kind of gesture of familiarity.
That last one, of course, she ignored.
Glancing at her watch, she spotted the time, and in a hurry, made her leave, quickly offering her number to the man she had left at the bar, scribbling it in pink ink across his palm.
Hailing a taxi, she made her way home, entered the security code to gain access to her house and then took the stairs two at a time, all in utter silence, hoping in vain that her parents wouldn't awake.
Upon opening the door to her room, there sat Yamcha, a reprimanding look plastered across his normally glee-filled face.
Her smile was quickly replaced with guilt. Placing her hands behind her back, her head down, she slowly made her way over to the chair at her desk upon which she sat down with a soft plop.
"You were supposed to be home by twelve. It's one-thirty now." He said sternly, taking up her parents' responsibility of punishing her.
Grounded. Two weeks.
Yet, as soon as he left the room, with a chaste good-night kiss placed upon his cheek, she pulled out the small card on which was a number written in scratchy black ink with the name Conan above it.
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