Nero went east. There was this place he'd heard of from one of his friends, a place called Vision City. He didn't care what kind of a place it was as long as it didn't have Dante in it. When he arrived, after a three day bus journey, he was picked up by some friends of his friend whom he had briefly met in Capulet. They were good guys. He was a bit surprised to find Vision City a more modern replica of Capulet. The crime rates were the same here as there, the demonic activity was through the roof, and there was a bar and a brothel at every corner. But there wasn't a single white-haired man under the age of fifty there.
So Nero dyed his own black.
He started wearing gloves. Suddenly he wasn't instantly recognizable. His room was nice. He shared it, and the bed, with a guy called Victor – who was one of the sexiest guys Nero had ever met. It seemed the Victor thought the same thing back; he couldn't stop staring and drooling. The apartment wasn't big, but they all helped out, and it really felt homey.
Nero started over.
He soon got hired by the local big shots to fix the demon problem, and considering the magnitude of it, it really kept him occupied. He had no time to think about Dante or how he never even stopped to feel if his heart was even beating anymore. He didn't want to know. He didn't want to feel a beat and know it was for Dante. Victor and he became lovers. Both of them had come from similar history before landing in Vision City, so they kept it on a level both could handle. Slowly, Nero learned to breathe again. He learned to smile again. He learned to live again. But he didn't heal.
Six months passed. Dante never came looking.
Victor took him abroad. They went to Paris, Rome, Athens, St. Petersburg, Rio – any nice little trip they could find. They never discussed it, but they were fleeing. In some way, all the guys in the apartment were. When at home, they wreaked havoc in the clubs and pubs with their wild partying. They got several tattoos. He liked the pain, and he liked the images. Nero learned how humans live. It raised a lot of questions. His demonic side was still present. He went through heating with all the discomfort coming with it; he encountered demons that spoke to him in demonic tongues which he understood without knowing how; his Devilbringer reacted in various way to his mood or the environment or situation. But he had no one to ask. Dante was the only one they had found who was the same category of demon as him. The only other people he could ask were a few outcast researchers on Fortuna island. Life was pushing him into another dead end.
Nero fell apart again.
Kyrie came to see him once. She was there with her choir. She was surprised to see him, and what on earth was up with his hair? Dani apparently missed him a lot. They spent a few days hanging out and she saw how far he had fallen already. He made her promise not to tell anyone where he was, and in return he promised to come visit when he could.
His drinking escalated once more. He stopped eating again. He stopped sleeping. He got careless with their favourite party pills. Seeing Kyrie reminded him of his past and all the hurt. He didn't want to know any of it. He didn't have a past. Like so many others in Vision City, he was just there one day. He had no past. He was nobody.
But he still dreamt of that smile.
Ten months passed.
Nero got recognized. Trish had grown restless and taken a road trip east, tired of Dante's depressing company. She recognized him thanks to Red Queen. Nero didn't look like she remembered. He had long, black hair in a pony tail, wore an old black leather coat of army model, ragged black jeans and army boots. He was also a lot thinner then last time. She observed as he stood leaning against a wall, talking to a group of suits about something. They shook hands and handed him a small folder. He accepted it, put out the cigarette he had been smoking and got in the convertible, in which two other guys were already seated. They drove off – the car speakers pumping out loud hardcore music.
A year passed.
Nero celebrated his birthday with Victor and the guys. He told himself he was having fun. They gave him presents and made a cake. He smiled and laughed and thanked them. Inside he thought of how it would be to die. He hated himself for it. They went out to continue the party. They got in a fight, and half of them got arrested. Nero ended his night in bed with Victor. When they fell asleep around dawn, he dreamt of that smile. He woke up crying. The rest of the guys came home around mid-day. They continued to party. Nero felt guilty for not enjoying it as much as they did.
The door bell rang.
Dante had come looking.
He was smiling that smile.
Xxx xXx xxX
Hi, my name is Lahmia, and I'm an addict. I write angst, and no matter what I do, I can't seem to stay away for longer than a one-, possibly a two-shot. Something's wrong with me...
Seems like it will be a three-shot after all, huh? So, what will happen now? Will there even be dialogue? You shall see! (Right now, even I don't know)
Vision City belongs to me, 'k? I've borrowed it from an old steampunk project of mine. So no touchy, 'k?
Reviews?
