It was dark out. The day had seemed to drag by, and yet here he was at the end of it. Trunks, the CEO of Capsule Corp. was sitting at his desk, running over events in his mind.
Bulma… What the hell happened to you? He felt his brow furrow as he thought about the woman he used to look up to like a Goddess. You used to be so smart, so brave… There was no one I could ever think of respecting more than you. Then Grandfather died and you…you turned into a worthless drunk. His anger was rising.How could he have thought she was so great before? Especially now that he knew she wasn't. Even Vegeta is a better role model than you! Vegeta! At least HE will stop training if I want to hang out… at least HE will straighten up when he needs to, but you…you just can't put down the bottle for one…damn…second…
Trunks opened his eyes again, realizing he was crushing the sides of his desk, the expensive wood collapsing beneath his fingers. He looked over at the family portrait across the room. It had his Grandparents, Vegeta, him as a baby, and right in the middle. "Mother…"
Briefs Home:
'Clink...' 'Clank…' 'Clink…' The sounds of silverware hitting plates were the only noises to be heard at the Brief family's quite dinner table.
The air was tense tonight; as it was every night at dinner time, because it was the only time that the four of them were forced to be together… the word forced only applying to two of them…
Everyone got along very well and loved each other with all of their hearts, with the exceptions of two. Trunks glanced across the table at the woman he used to call "Mother". He was in a more hostile mood than usual because of what had happened back at the office. As much as he hated what Bulma had become, he had looked at her picture and called her the word he had always addressed her with, with all the love a son could ever give. "Mother."
Where did that come from? Trunks asked himself as he ate, his temper still high. He was glad though that it had happened at the office and not at home. The last thing he wanted was to give anyone the wrong idea about where he and his drunk of a Mother stood.
'Clink...' 'Clank…' 'Clink…' Everyone was soon cleaning their plates, finding that they were now in need of more sides to accompany their steaks.
"Bra?" Trunks looked over at his little sister with the nicest look he could muster at the moment. "Could you pass the potatoes?"
"Here, honey." Bulma smiled sweetly at her son as she picked up the dish, handing it to him so that he could help himself.
Just as the dish reached him though, Trunks looked back down at his plate, sliding some green beans onto his fork. "No thanks." He said curtly, his gaze never shifting from his meal.
Bulma was taken aback by his sudden statement; she didn't think when she pressed further. "But, you just asked for the potatoes…" Her smile started to fade as she was met with even more hostility from her formerly golden son.
"Didn't you hear what I just said? I said no thank you!" His violet locks rose up from his plate, his blue eyes brewing with sheer distain for the person he was speaking to.
Suddenly Bra piped up from her seat across from her brother, her equally blue eyes brimming with emotion as she defended her Mother.
"Why do you have to be so mean to her, Trunks?" She glared at him.
"Mommy was only trying to help!" It hurt the girl to see her brother treat her poor Mother that way, she may have a drinking problem, but she was still his Mother, and it was his job as her oldest child and her son to help her get better, not disregard her entirely!
Trunks just gave his sister a look that shouted "Why don't you mind your own damn, business!"
Swallowing the last of the meat in his mouth, the steaming man turned to her. "Well she needs to stop "helping". Every time she tries to "help" all she manages to do is break something!" He dropped his fork on his plate with a clatter. "And I am tired of cleaning up her messes!"
Bra's determination to defend the woman she looked up to only grew in the face of her brother's stern opposition. "Yeah, well you-"
But before she could finish her response, the fourth member of their table at last made his presence known. "SHUT UP!" Vegeta roared, his mighty voice shaking the house and rattling the combatants at his table. "No shouting at the dinner table!" Everyone's faces immediately froze as he shouted, the man now quietly picking up his silverware and returning to his well-deserved meal.
'Clink...' 'Clank…' 'Clink…' The sounds of eating once more took over the table, the only words coming from the violet-haired icicle. "You're one to talk…" He muttered, his snide comment being directed at someone other than his defenseless Mother for a change, at least a man capable of destroying a planet could defend himself.
"Trunks..." Bulma looked over at her son with a hurt expression. She loved him so much; all she wanted was to talk to him.
'Wrrrrmmmph!' Trunks pulled out his chair and abruptly left the table, his back being turned to the blue-haired woman before she could even say another word.
Watching his large frame stalk away, Bulma's cerulean eyes filled with tears, the boy she had once held in her arms as a baby, now hated her as a man.
"Ooohhhhoohohohh!" Bulma buried her face in her hands, tears streaming down her beautiful face. "He hates me! My son…hates...me-e-e-e!"
"It's okay, Mommy!" Bra got up from her chair, rushing around the table to be at her Mother's side. "He doesn't hate you, Mommy." She hugged her tightly. "He's just really stressed out." The young girl looked over at her Father; the man was still looking in the direction that his son had disappeared in, his gaze only now slowly lowering to his wife and daughter. Bra's eyes catching his.
"Calm down woman." He took another bite of steak. "It'll all be alright…I promise…"