Okay, before I get this thing going, I have to say some things. First, to all those that review, you guys rock! Seriously, I love your reviews!

Next, your gonna hate me now, 'cause I promised you some romance in this chapter, but...I sorta lied. Now, before you send me hate mail, the next chap is totally TxK flirting! I'd have two chap's on a day, 'cause it takes me about a half hour-hour to write 'em (depends on my muse that day), but it takes FOREVER to type it! Any ways, I'll stop talking now and let you read.

Disclaimer: the only thing I own is the dukoose that I invented, k?

Mr. Brightside

Chapter 4

No Title Comes to Mind

Shortly after Torn had left, Kiera decided it was time to leave too. She got up in, what she hoped was, an inconspicuous manner, and put on her best fake smile.

"Daddy, I'm gonna head home, okay? Are you planning on coming home later, or are you planning on spending the night?" she asked the green sage with a convincing knock-off of one of her smiles.

"Well, I was just going to spend the night here, dear. But do you feel ill? Because if you do-"

"No, I'm just tired is all," she cut him off, yawning on cue.

"Okay dear. Well then, good night."

The green eyed mechanic gave her father a quick kiss on the cheek and left before any other enquiries could be made about her health and the fact that she was leaving only a little bit after nine.

She hopped on her zoomer and jetted as fast as she could, trying to ignore the destruction under her. Her apartment was in New Haven, not far from FL HQ. It was modestly sized, just big enough for herself in her father, and had a small garage underneath for her work. She missed her old one horribly, where she'd gotten her first job in this Mar forsaken city, rebuilt (or was it built?) the rift rider, had found Jak again...

She sighed again. She had to stop doing that, both the thinking about that jerk and the sighing; it was getting her nowhere. She pulled into the tiny garage, hopping off the zoomer and quickly walking upstairs to the flat. She changed into her PJ's at the speed of light and grabbed something made entirely of sugar from the kitchen. She picked up her favorite pillow off her bedroom floor and snuggled under the messy covers. Her room was modern and done in different shades of red. On one of the tables sat a odd looking cactus, which she had nick-named 'Snuggles'.

She flicked on the TV. She really wasn't in the mood for crying until she fell asleep, so the only other option besides working was channel surfing. Let's see, News, news, weather, sports, porn...wait what was that doing on there! Oh, never mind, it's just the hip-hop channel. Finally she gave up on the TV as a lost cause and figured she might as well go to sleep. Tomorrow, after everyone had got rid of their hangover of course, they'd need to start rebuilding the city. Again. So, she'd need her energy.

Try as she might, however, the girl had trouble falling asleep, for obvious reasons. So, even though she told herself not to, she started thinking about where her and Jak had gone wrong. What had made it end?

She racked her brains for a possible answer to this question. Well, they'd both changed for one thing. Jak had been tortured for two years of his life, changing him irreversibly. He was no longer the sweet, shy boy she had loved. He'd definitely matured. The boy back in Sandover village would never had hit on a girl, much less stared at her chest.

The best Kiera could figure was that they just grown apart. 'And as much as it had hurt to see him kiss another girl, I'll just have to get over it' she decided.

She let her mind wonder over to the governess. What she'd done to Torn had been just as bad as what Jak had done to her, maybe worse. The dread-locked commander was fiercely independent and kept to himself. To show even the smallest feeling about anyone was an enormous accomplishment for him. Kiera felt a surge of pity towards Torn. It was cruel, that's what it was. A nasty, bitchy thing to do.

She'd have to remember to be friendlier to him. He really wasn't that bad, he was just... quiet. And he'd opened that bottle for her, which she figured was sort of like his version of a sympathetic word.

"I need to sleep," she said to herself, and soon drifted into a thankfully dreamless sleep.

Early the next morning, while Kiera still slept another hour across town, Torn was up and getting ready for the day ahead. Now that the war was over, there would be some serious clean up going on. Again. He was glad he hadn't drank more last night. He'd have one hell of a hangover last time they'd had a party, and they'd all had to clean up then too. It hadn't been fun.

He figured now would be a good time for a shower, seeing as there was nobody around. That had been the only thing he hadn't liked about the old HQ: the lack of private bathrooms. He had used to go to ridiculous lengths to assure that he was the only one even remotely close when he wanted a shower. It wasn't like he was shy or anything, he just...liked his privacy, yeah!

He also figured now would be a good time to wash his hair. Now, don't get him wrong, he washes it often, just not everyday. Those dreads are a pain in the ass to roll, even after doing it for years, so he'd go about three days, then take them out and wash them. He couldn't stand going without them being washed any longer; he'd start to twitch. He quickly unrolled each one, then when he was all done, combed the mahogany locks to get rid of the tanles. He then grabbed a towel and some clean clothes and headed to the showers.

Out of habit, he checked the other stalls for occupants, which there were none of. And after double locking all the doors, he proceeded to turn on the showers.

Hot water streamed down his tense muscles, making him sigh in relief. He took a while before actually washing to let himself relax. He, a lot like the rest of us, found he does some of his best thinking in the shower. Plans for the new layout of Haven flooded his mind. He had some good plans, he decided as he scrubbed away three days dirt, oil, and stress from his scalp.

Finally he figured it was time to get out before his skin got all red and wrinkly. He turned off the showers and walked into the adjacent bathroom to dry off. He wrapped a towel around his waist after he was dry and accidentally caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He didn't like what he saw.

He was tall and way too thin, he concluded. The muscle that was present was too lean, built for speed, not strength. The thick black tatoos made designs all over his chest and arms, making his golden beige skin, in his opinion, look sickly. He hated everything. His arms and legs; too long to find sleeves big enough. And if he did find pants long enough, they were too big in the waist and hips and needed a belt to hold them up. And his face. That he hated, no loathed, most of all. He hated how smiles looked foreign on it, how it was angular, everything.

He sighed, turning away from the mirror. No time for self pity, he reminded himself. His hair, surprisingly thick and curly, needed to be rolled again.

After his hair was back in control and he was dressed, he decided it was time to leave his home and return to FL HQ. He had a lot of important things he needed to get done before the others arrived: clean up the staff table, draw up his plans for the new city, feed his fish, water his plants... Mar he was busy.

Unfortunately for his tight schedule, before the commander even made it to the end of the alley, disaster struck: His stomach growled.

'Dammit! I just have to have the metabolism of a dukoose!' he thought to himself. Oh, well, he could pick up some muffins or something on the way to HQ. There was a great place along the way.

I loved writing that shower scene! Oh, and I made up that dukoose, so Naughty Dog can have some! Lol. Sorry 'bout Kiera's part being so boring, but I had to get her out of that bar! Keep readin' and I'll have the next chappy out real soon!