Chapter 4- Work Hours
"Oh! My! Gawd! Bulma! You should've seen him!" ChiChi exclaimed while sitting on the passenger side of Bulma's car. "He was drop dead gorgeous!"
"Really. Gawd I wanna meet him!" Bulma, who was driving said. "Well come on girl! What's he like?"
"Well. He's a few inches shorter than Goku, has black hair that sticks straight up like a flame, and his eyes are ebony black. He's muscular too."
"What's he act like? Is he obnoxious?"
"Well I was zoned out half the time, but he seemed...I don't really know. His personality is kinda hard to describe. It's like he doesn't like to talk, especially about himself, but will argue with people with the drop of a hat...He actually talked to me... Oh and he is an awesome football player. He and Goku were talking and he they said that he got a scholarship to play at Northern."
"Northern!" Bulma exclaimed. "I'm a genius and I had trouble getting into northern. And he got a scholarship! How smart is he?"
"I don't know. He might've just gotten in because of football. I didn't really ask. But I've seen him play and he's awesome. No doubt he's the best one out there. Hey I'm hungry. Why don't you stop somewhere."
"Alright." Bulma said turning her car into a drive through. Now more than ever, she wanted to meet this Vegeta guy. If for nothing more than curiosity.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
If anyone had looked under the bleachers, they would have seen a person standing there staring murderously at their star football player.
Lucky for him, no one did.
He stood there for the entire practice staring at the one person he hated more than anything. The person who messed up everything. The one that made him what he was today. It was all his fault. He had ruined everything. And by god, he would pay.
As he stood there staring, he thought of ways to get revenge. He would not kill him right off. No, he would make Vegeta suffer as he had suffered. Vegeta would pay for every day of it.
But every second that he watched Vegeta play, he realized more and more that it wasn't going to be easy to kill him. He wouldn't be able to do it on his own.
He cursed himself for not making sure he was dead as a child. No... He didn't blame himself. He blamed Vegeta. It was his fault. All of it.
He stood there watching for a few more minutes and then turned and left.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Alright boys." Coach Foster said. "You can go. That's it for today."
"What time is it?" Vegeta asked.
A running back, named Josh looked at his watch. "Almost seven." He said.
"Seven!" Vegeta stopped in his tracks. "I was supposed to be at work for five thirty!" Without another thought, he took off running.
When he got to the parking lot, he hopped on his bike and revved the engine, and sped off.
His motorbike was on older model. It had been his father's. (Just so you know, his father is not King Vegeta. It's another dude.) And although he absolutely despised his father, he had kept the bike anyway. He couldn't afford to be picky, because he didn't have the money to buy a new one. Instead he fixed it up. Now it was all black with blue flames coming down the sides and on the front.
His apartment was about fifteen minutes away from the school and walking distance away from his job. By all accounts speeding, he wove in and out of traffic, and managed to make it to his apartment in only five minutes.
He pulled his bike into the parking lot and, because it was an older model and not a capsule vehicle, left it there.
Running, he reached his apartment, unlocked the door and ran straight to the shower. he didn't even bother to lock the door back. He didn't have the time.
He took a quick shower, dressed himself in baggy jeans, a black shirt, and his favorite leather jacket that he had gotten from an old friend. Sad to say, that same old friend, Zachary, was killed in a street brawl a few years earlier. This had been his apartment too. Vegeta had lived here with him. And even though he had only been fourteen when his friend had died, the landlord still let him stay as long as he could pay the rent.
He ran out of his apartment only ten minutes after he had entered it and worked on putting his boots on as he ran, more like hopped, down the hall.
His apartment was eight stories up and the elevator was broken most of the time. Because of that, he had gotten used to going down the stairs.
His job, at an all-night and very popular bar called Gee's, was three blocks over and on the opposite side of the third. Because of this, he cut through an alley and jumped a couple fences before finally making it to Gee's.
"You're late." The owner, an Italian man called Garfield, but nicknamed Gee after his bar, said as Vegeta ran in through the back door.
"Well I had football practice. And I think I'm going to have to change my hours...again." Vegeta said taking his jacket off and clipping on his ID badge.
"Again." Gee said in exasperation. "I don't know why I put up with you."
"Because I'm so wonderful and you couldn't imagine living without me?" Vegeta suggested. Besides Gee being his boss, he was also a good friend. Zachary had used to work for him and Vegeta would sometimes come with him just to hang out. Being that he grew up around Gee, he was more comfortable to joke with him than he would be most other people.
"I guess so." Gee said grabbing two bottles of rum off the shelf and walking back into the actual bar room. "Otherwise I would have fired your ass long ago. And not only are you trouble for me, but if you get caught working here, I'll probably lose my bar. You aren't even old enough to be in a bar, much less work here. You see! I do all this for you, and this is the thanks I get? You are late for work. And then..."
"Okay, Okay. Gee, you know guilt trips don't work on me. But just because I like you, I'll work late tonight to makeup for the time I missed. And then, we can talk about changing my hours." Vegeta said and then walked away to take up his place by the door.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The night had been a slow one. There had only been three fights during his 'watch'. With two of them, all he had to do was break them up, and the men went back to drinking. But with the third, between two Chinese women, he had to toss them out. He knew they were fighting over a man. That much he had gathered from when they were yelling at each other. Then they had gotten up and started pulling on each other's hair and scratching at each other. Vegeta and the other man, who was nine years older then him and named Thomas, had broken them up. Then the two girls had gotten up started having at it again.
After the third time of breaking the girls up, they had tossed them out. One of the girls had scratched Vegeta's face in the process.
The only good thing that had happened though was that he had gotten his hours changed. Since he worked eight-hour shifts, and now would get to work at eight PM, he would get home at four AM, instead of one like he used to.
On Fridays, because that's when his football games were, he would work from midnight until eight in the morning.
He finally got home, undressed, and plopped into bed.