Disclaimer: Okay...Moonangel1, you were totally right. Unfortunately, I have the memory span of a goldfish (approximately 2 seconds long) and I can't seem to remember anything these days. Yes, I should've given credit to "Hot Gimmick", just about the best manga there is out there and its author Miki Aihara for the wonderful plot I just kind of took a spoonful of. Very sorry to those who are incredibly mad at me for that. And can't forget...Sailor Moon isn't mine (not that I mind...I only care about the Darien part that's not mine =P)

Sorry to the few people who actually read this thing...it's only my first fan fiction...and with finals week coming up in Stuyvesant, it's not easy to find time to sit down and write.

Oh...and thanks for the constructive criticism from Galaxystar and madam hawke (yes, I suck...I know -.- ;;;;;)

Monarchy under a Complete Jerk

Chapter 4: Rebellion

It's a day off today. A day off from school, from homework, from getting up, from just about everything. Except Darien that is. But it's not like I was actually going to go to his place like he told me yesterday. I still had a whole lot of showering to do.
I turned over on my bed and buried my face into the pillow. My whole body felt sticky today, even after the billion and a half hours I spent last night scrubbing my body clean of that disgusting feeling of Darien's fingers on me. My eyes still felt droopy and even without a mirror I could tell that my hair was probably horrendous. Then out of the blue, in the midst of my groaning, a muffled tune began to play on my left. It automatically registered in my brain as my cell phone and I scrambled up to retrieve it from the mess of blankets. Unfortunately, by the time I found the little device, the person had already called three times and left two messages.
Much to my dismay, the number registered as anonymous so either the digits were screened purposely or the number was from a pay phone or a home phone or something. I figured it was probably some person with the wrong number so I just shut off the device and went back to sleep. I didn't even bother wondering why it was on in the first place.
When I woke up again, I felt cranky and all my joints felt stiff. The little alarm clock next to my bed glared 12:18 at me as I tried to pick myself off the bed. Well, being the klutz I was, I lost the hopeless battle with my blanket and eventually fell to the ground, face first. But as soon as my legs kicked the annoying things away, something decided to fly into my face and cover my right eye. I slapped it away with one hand while using the other to hold myself up into a sitting position before I really took a good look at what poor creature I had been abusing. I don't really remember much of what came next but there was a glass-cracking scream followed by my body springing up and back onto the bed.
Then about 5 seconds later, my whole family (Sammy and Keiko at the moment since Sammy decided to live with us for two days instead of at grandma's house) was at my bedroom door, all clad in metal pans and spatulas (with various embarrassing pj's underneath that), ready to kill whatever it was that probably, in their weird twisted imaginations, climbed through one of my four 2'x2' windows. I was distracted for a moment before I silently pointed to the black and green guts lieing in my carpet.

Okay...so it was a spider. They didn't all have to get so pissed off at me about it. It's not like they were sleeping or anything. After all, it was already 12:18. Or it was the last time I checked.
I poured the last of the pink substance onto my hands and washed my stomach furiously. I uncapped another bottle of body wash and then scrubbed my face where the spider was crushed. So the bug wasn't so big...but it still got all over the place. My poor white carpet now probably has a big, black stain somewhere in the middle to forever remind me of the accident I had this morning. I sighed as I finished my half-hour shower and dressed in a random t-shirt and shorts and walked out of the bathroom door, hair still soaking wet.
I planned to stay home the whole day today, watching T.V and pigging out. Going to the arcade was originally part of my plan too, but seeing as how Darien might storm over there to find me and drag me back to his place after realizing I wasn't going to show up to his orignal meeting of 5 P.M. or whenever it was, I wasn't going to take my chances. It's safer at home with Keiko and my idiotic brother.
A few hours later, I was buried in my black leather sofa, facing the television chewing on some poptarts while trying to find my snapple apple drink under the mounds of garbage and unopened edibles. It was only around 3:30 or so and much to my dismay, my regular cartoons were already getting pretty boring. I also discovered, after much trial and error, that the number '67' for cartoon network, was the hardest channel to get to on account of me being too lazy to use my fingers and instead employing my toes to do the job. And the other thing that made my life utterly miserable at this point. I wasn't multitaskular, so it was impossible to watch T.V and eat at the same time. I'd either forget about the food or forget about the show. It was getting so sad that at one point, my brother Sammy walked into the room and had a good laugh of about ten minutes, rolling around on the floor with tears streaming down his face. After that, he just got up, called me a fruitloop and left. What a moron.
Anyways, some time around dinner, the home phone rings and Keiko picks it up. She cheers an all too happy greeting to the person on the other line and after a few seconds, eyes me suspiciously. After that, it just all came down to nods and a couple of 'uh-huh's. By the time she hangs up, most of the food on the table is gone. The only ones left were the few dishes that just happened to have onion or garlic cooked into them. It wasn't a rare thing to see those plates highly unpopular in my house. Even Sammy didn't try them. We always ended up throwing them out a few days later.
Just as I'm about to leave the room, Keiko yells at me to answer the phone. I sprint upstairs to my room and plop onto my bed before putting the phone to my ear. It was 7:45 I noted.
"SERENA WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!" shouted the masculine voice on the other end of the line. "I'VE BEEN SITTING OUTSIDE MY DOOR FOR THE PAST FOUR HOURS!"
Who was this screaming at me over the phone anyways? I don't recognize his voice. After letting my poor overused brain clink for another few seconds or so, I decided to ask.
"Um...right...who is this again?"
"Serena..." he said calmly, "You dumb blonde. This is DARIEN you dolt! I told you to come over at five! Why the HELL are you STILL HOME?!"
"Why is your voice so weird?"
"That's because I caught a FREAKIN' COLD waiting for YOU! I told you—"
"Okay already, I'll be right there," I said hanging up the phone.
Hurriedly, I filled a container with soup (the one that nobody drank because of the onions) and grabbed a jacket and a scarf before shooting out the door. I ran the few flights of stairs up before shoving the stair door open. What I saw I did not expect. Darien was sitting next to the elevator, with his thin green jacket wrapped around his muscular body, trying to keep himself warm. It was the top floor in the apartment and the temperature up here was well below that of the first floor. If I approximated, it would probably be 50 degrees or so. Which leads us to the question: Why was Darien sitting out here for four hours? I quickly walked over to his huddled form and took off my scarf to wrap around his neck and nose. When he didn't look up, I kneeled next to him on the floor and shook him a little.
"Serena...I'm cold," he said in a raspy voice.
Without a word, I pulled him off the ground and led him to his door, turning the knob and pushing open the unlocked door. I led him to the closest table in sight (in this case the living room table) and sat him down on the sofa. My hands pried open the lid on the container and handed him the soup along with the plastic spoon I brought along. He just stared at me blankly for a few seconds, those dark blue eyes suddenly really pale.
"Feed me," he says.
Once these two words came out of his mouth, I automatically felt my cheeks warm. My arms crossed and I tossed my hair, pointing my nose into the air.
"No, it's not like you own me or something. I don't have to do what you say."
"Is that it? You think I don't own you? Aren't you forgetting something?"
Suddenly, images from yesterday morning in the dead end street flashed in my head. Then suddenly, something clicked in my head.
"Darien, I almost forgot to tell you that Keiko's pregnancy thing was a false alarm. She's not—"
"I can still tell about her nightly flings with random guys and about your parties to your parents."
"But those parties weren't my idea either. Keiko said that nobody would—"
"Too bad. I can just blame it all on you and tell your parents you bother me with the racket. Or I can just threaten to kick you all out."
"But I didn't do anything! Why do you have to insist on me feeding you and being your stupid little maid?! Why can't you just let me do what I want to?! You hate me and I hate you so what is the point of having to put up with me and having me run around your rooms doing your chores?! I bet Mr. Perfect is immaculate ANYWAYS!"
"Because, meatball brains, I SAID SO! And if you don't like it, then you complain to the apartment manager—oh, WAIT! That's ME!"
I felt my blood boil and my nails dig into my palms. Why does he have to be so mean to me all the time? My vision blurred and I turned away from him just as warm, salty tears ran down my cheeks. I wiped away the tears with furious swipes of my arm.
"Se-serena..."
"What do you want," I said bitterly.
"Are-are you..."
"I never want to see you again! And you can feed your own pathetic self!" I screamed before stalking out and slamming the door behind me.
As I stomped down the staircase, I mentally began hexing Darien and his soup. I hope he burns his tongue on that soup. No, I hope it spills on him and burns his legs or something. No, better yet—I hope he hates onions!
Finally satisfied with that conclusion, I headed back home towards my apartment.

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Gomenasaii minna-san! bows deep its short nd its not all that good in my opinion... All I have to do now is get more armor and maybe a tape that will play the sound of people clapping and whistling instead of the real life booing and throwing of rotten tomatoes. sweatdrop