A Step Forward
-x-x-x-x-x-
It was their first Official date as a couple yesterday. Very nice, very peaceful. She made a great lunch for them that day. He fully enjoyed it, eating the freshly grilled fish to the bone.
Denny surely had a fun day, admitting this to himself as he watched his girlfriend walk down the path to her home. But something still bothered him, eating him away, and he frustratingly couldn't place a finger on it.
-x-
"Dude, you have a huge apartment," was the first comment from a certain farmer. Then she quickly added, "…but that's probably because the place is quite empty," after realizing that there was barely any furniture or decorations. "…You could probably spruce up the place, you know… With flowers and… less gray…"
She received a disagreeing snort in return, followed by an annoyed, "Don't like, then leave."
"It's not like I even asked to come here." She pointed out, wagging a finger for emphasis. "You, Vaughn, dragged me to your quaint home."
Really, fate hated Vaughn (he really believed it). And technically, he didn't drag her there (he just wanted to hide her away before she could catch the police's attention is all… Messing with the po-pos was something he prayed to avoid). It was more of her following him and him trying to get her to go home. But at the dock where the ships rested, it turned out that the last ferry to Sunny Island had already left. There wasn't any way the farmer could return home, and it was unlike Vaughn to just leave someone alone in the cold, outside with no home. Especially this certain person. He could've and would've. Actually, to tell you the truth, he did, but he couldn't do anything about that certain person following him.
And so, here, they find themselves standing within Vaughn's quaint, rented apartment. It was a nice little apartment, very close to business (as it was next door), and was enough for one (now having to go through the pain of having two occupying the space). It was truly empty and obviously dull as it looked like everything went untouched for billions of years; it was evident that the living-in-this-place aspect that it was supposed to have was surely not there. And that, too, is true, as Vaughn was hardly ever in one place, but moving all over and around. The place surely did provide what was needed. It was pleasantly nice to know that there was a bathroom just for one's use. Especially to a certain farmer.
"Ah, lovely," the farmer chimed, " - toilet. Excuse me." And she was eagerly excused by the tired dealer, who sat down at a nearby chair at the nearby small table which was made… for one.
It was strange to Vaughn, finding someone else enjoying his pleasurable bathroom. Well, not the using the bathroom part, but just knowing that someone else was occupying the single space of his for once was… odd. Everything, he just realized, in his little home was made for one. One person, one soul, one being, alone. Which also meant a single bed…
And the toilet flushed away his thoughts, quickly being followed by a quick rushing water.
"Not a bad place, Vaughn." Chelsea commented once again as she appeared out of the bathroom. "They say that a home reflects the person living in it, and must I agree that you prove it true." She nodded with a silly grin.
He wasn't too sure if that was a good thing, considering that it was empty and dull and gray and boring, which would mean him as a being was empty and dull and gray and boring. That, as it stands, also was an odd realization… though, painfully accurate. Moreover, the unusually out-of-place farmer and her positive affect clearly contrasting everything was weird.
"So… I missed the ferry to Sunny Island…" Chelsea grumbled, standing in the middle of the room awkwardly. "Am I staying here?" There was a hint of sureness in her voice. And the thought of her being smug about the rhetorical question as well bothered him.
"Would you prefer to sleep outside?" Vaughn suggested unkindly.
"No, I think it's quite comfy in here." An approving smile appeared.
"And who says your staying here?"
Chelsea raised a brow at him. "Well, don't you think you owe me for allowing you to stay at my house?"
"You invited me. I obliged." Vaughn took off his hat and looked at her again. "I never really invited you. If I remember correctly, which I usually do, you followed me here."
"True…" She immediately sat down on the hard wood floor. "But I prefer to stay here."
And with that, the topic was over.
"What are we going to eat tonight?" Chelsea asked after a few seconds of pure silence.
"I don't know."
"Umm… do you have anything in your fridge?"
"I don't know."
"In the pantry?"
"I don't know."
"In the cabinets -" But before he could answer, she badgered on. "Oh, lemme guess. I DON'T KNOW. … sheesh, Vaughn, you must know something. I don't think you're that stupid." He answered with a glower, and she continued, standing up from her place on the floor. "Alright then. Let's go out to eat."
"What?"
"You and Me. Go to eat. Not that hard to understand." He felt the air of stupidity beginning to make him itch.
"I've no money."
"Riiiight. That's fine. I got my money." She pulled out a small, worn wallet out of her pocket. "I don't have much (really I don't), but it's enough to get some groceries for a meal for two. Unless you wanna go to some fancy restaurant." It was clearly written on her face that he would be the one to pay either way.
He visibly denied the second suggestion. "You're cooking?"
"Well, Pierre's been teaching me and his lessons are bound to pay off. If not, I fail at humanity, so says my teacher." She then walked up to the side of the table and pointed at the door. "C'mon. I don't know where the supermarket is, so you bring me there."
"Can't you just figure out yourself how to get ther-" he abruptly paused as the sudden realization of her having a horrible sense of direction hit him. And he seriously didn't want anymore trouble. "Alright." He stood up from the chair, giving in. "…Let's go."
-x-
Vaughn followed the farmer, who was busily exploring the aisles in alarming speed with great interest. He was just a few or more paces away from the farmer, enough to not lose sight of her, but enough to look like they were strangers. He stopped by the refrigerated section, eyeing the eggs. He spotted the cartons that was endowed with the Estate logo, easily attracting customers because it meant that it was from the major and successful company that produced the best of the best when it came to livestock. And the count of cartons was expectantly low.
"Oh," Vaughn looked beside him to find the short farmer next to him, who continued absently, "we need eggs." She looked up at him and smiled. "How about breakfast for dinner?" He only gave a shrug, watching her wander off to another aisle. He then opened the glass door and reached in for one of the cartons. He opened the carton too, just to make sure there weren't any ruined eggs waiting for him. There were none.
The loudspeakers clicked on with one of the workers voice resonating across the supermarket. Vaughn absentmindedly listened as he walked along, learning that there had been a spill in aisle 12 that needs clean-up pronto. As soon as the voice buzzed off, Chelsea appeared, looking quite apprehensive. And with the clear expression on her face, it made him frown instantly. He smacked her on the side of the head and quickly walked away, knowing that she was sure to follow. He passed aisle 12 and his frown deepened.
Chelsea also looked on at the sight and winced a little bit. "Oooh… woops.."
"How in the world can you make such a mess so easily?" Vaughn asked after passing a few more aisles.
"It's not like I did it on purpose. I'm very clumsy." She knew he wasn't fooled by the cliché reason and sighed in defeat. "Alright, I just took a little nip of it to see what it tasted like and man, was it horrible. It tasted like poop! And well… I accidentally threw it down in frustration…" She received another smack in the same place.
As they lined up at the counter, behind a family of three who's cart was completely filled, Vaughn took a glimpse of what the farmer had gathered in the bag. Immediately, he grabbed at something unnecessary and placed it elsewhere. Chelsea stared at him, reached for the misplaced necessity, and placed it back where it was supposed to be.
"We don't need that."
"Yes, we do."
"Put it away. It's a waste of money."
"No, it won't be a waste if we use it."
"We don't need it."
"Maybe you don't, but I do."
Before more dangerous sparks could fly, the brave cashier intervened. "Excuse me? Are you ready?" The look that this cashier gave them made them question. It was clear on Mr Cashier's face that they probably looked like a bickering gay couple. Chelsea pushed herself forward, handing everything to the cashier and making sure that nothing was missing (sending glares toward her companion as she was at it) Once the last of her wanted items were scanned, she smiled with delight.
"That would thirteen dollars and sixty-two cents." The cashier informed them, tapping away on the electronic cash register.
Vaughn was highly surprised. Like, seriously surprised. He wouldn't dare to show it though as she pulled out fifteen dollar out of her pocket. Fifteen dollars was quite a lot, helpful to keep. But looking at all the so called necessities that the farmer had bought, which he assumed most as unimportant, it was so much that he would have never thought it would just be less than fifteen dollars. He received the change and gathered the few bags left, the rest already being held by his companion.
Once they were out the doors, Chelsea began laughing silly to Vaughn's curiosity and annoyance. "Heh, I bet your wondering how I did it." A hint of arrogance was embedded into her voice.
"Did what?"
"Make things so super cheap with so much." Vaughn wished that she could be sharp upon other things too, like her sense of direction or being more observant. She nearly walked into an alley leading to the red-light districts of the city and would've ended up there too, had Vaughn not stopped her. "So you wanna know?" She urged on. "Sales, Vaughn. Smart shopping! COUPONS! And plus I know you hate wasting money, so I decided to cut down a bit. Twenty bucks is my limit. So… only got five dollars left in my poor pocket." She then wandered off to another topic. "I bought some pancake mix and bacon. You got the eggs. Do you like scrambled eggs?"
"Yes… I do."
"Great. Cause really, I fail at doing sunny-side ups. They look like a messed up sun with its yellow spilling out into the galaxy. And just by thinking about it, I can already hear Pierre scolding me.."
Vaughn had no response to this. He motioned his head to the left, signaling that they needed to change routes. They ended up in a rather empty street.
"Now that I think about it Vaughn…" Chelsea looked back at him, eyes filled with great interest. "What's your favorite food, dish?" He didn't reply, just continuing to walk on as lead. She pursed her lips, but didn't want to comment. Instead came, "I like food. Anything will do me good."
"I thought that was pretty obvious considering you eat everything edible in front of you."
"I like carrot cake." This brought a frown to his face, the fastest yet. If his resolution was to not dislike this cross-dressing girl more, it surely wasn't being accomplished as his trying-to-not-dislike-meter just lowered by one hundred points. " I like the cakes that Pierre makes. He's really great at anything with foods."
"You ought to stick near him then."
"I would, but he's awfully busy. And he's sometimes scary when I'm cooking." Chelsea then frowned. "Actually, I'm pretty scared when I'm cooking too. Afraid that something might blow up again…"
Vaughn's steps began to slow down until he stopped dead on his tracks. Chelsea, who was busy contemplating what they would eat tomorrow in the morning, bumped into his back and bounced lightly off, complaining. "Vaughn, what's up with you stopping suddenly? You always -" She peered around him and found a group off dark figures looming ahead of them, in the only path toward the apartment homes.
'I should've remembered,' thought Vaughn darkly, ' that at this time of night, many gangs and hoodlums run about.' He then turned around. "Let's go back."
"Why?" She asked stubbornly. "The apartments are right there." She jerked her head a little upwards, staring at the lights and the upper side of the apartment building ahead. "Let's just go through."
"I don't want to deal with trouble."
"You never want to deal with trouble, Vaughn. Bulk up. We'll just pass right through without bothering them." And with that, she pushed on forward. Vaughn, with that instinctive tingle at the pit of his stomach, knew, and knew definitely well, that this absolutely wasn't going to turn out well. He followed unwillingly, expecting the worst.
"Excuse me…" Chelsea stopped before the group of men who stood in their way. They all wore jackets, their hoods covering their faces. There were about six or seven of them gathered around, certainly giving off the gangster attitude. "We're just passing through -" She was suddenly grasped on the arm by one of the hooded men and turned around. "Hey! What are you -"
Vaughn was ready with his whip in hand, but stopped. It didn't look like the gangster was going to do something. And the farmer looked completely fixated to her spot.
"Ah, sorry…" The gangster pushed her out of his grasp. "Sorry, sorry. You just looked like someone I knew…" He paused a bit to realize that he was being stared at by his victim. "…But… you're a guy so…" The reason came out rather awkwardly.
Vaughn stepped up by Chelsea side, realizing she wouldn't budge from her spot. He took hold of one of her shoulders and pushed her a little forward. "… Excuse us…"
"Hey." Another of the group barked at Vaughn. "Are you two gay?" It was blunt. Very blunt.
Vaughn paused, tempted to crack out his whip as if there was no tomorrow, but decided against it. "No… we're not."
"Aight, sorry -" Before he could say anymore though, Vaughn had already pushed themselves all the way to the apartment complex entrance. He really expected for the whole event to turn into a bloody fist fight, but somehow, that certain comment was worse. He actually would have preferred the fist fight, but he put it aside as he recognized that he was even entertaining the thought.
Vaughn slid the entry card through the scanner and the doors opened. He then went ahead, just to realize his companion wasn't keeping up. He turned around to look at the farmer, to see that her cheerful mood from before just completely shut down. "Hey, what's wrong with you?"
Chelsea looked at him now. "…No, never mind, sorry…" She forced herself ahead of him, quickly and observably with no thought of direction. "…Wrong way." Vaughn informed when the farmer was going the opposite direction. He watched her immediately turn around and pass right by him as if there wasn't a second to spare. Her mood was all the same as they entered his residence. She had already entered the kitchen and began to set out all the things.
Vaughn slipped off his shoes and padded his way toward the kitchen. He set down his bags of grocery and quietly observed the farmer, who was busily organizing the food. He didn't do so for long as he figured he might as well hit the showers. "Hey…" No response. "Hey… farmer."
"Hmm?" Chelsea looked up from the groceries. "Oh yeah, where's your frying pan?"
Vaughn reached up to one of the upper cabinets, taking out requested pan. "Here… Anyway, I'm going to go take a shower now…"
"Go ahead…" She replied quietly.
He really didn't have anything to say. There was nothing to say. He slipped away quietly to his room to get his towel. Then as he went to the bathroom, which was across the hall from his room, he took a glimpse at the farmer.
'She's acting normal for once,' he thought. 'This is weird but I'll be okay with this.'
And with that, he got ready to shower.
-x-
Vaughn clicked open the bathroom door, ruffling his dripping wet hair with his towel. He completely forgot that there was someone else in his home and retreated to the bathroom to wrap the towel around his waist, then emerged once again. The air smelled like omelets and frying bacon. It smelt really good. He took a look at the other he had forgotten about to see that there was nothing suspicious going on with her actions. He quickly went to his room to get some clothes on, which consisted of black boxers, blue shorts, and a white t-shirt, then came out to the hall again.
Chelsea was now cutting up some celery, having been provided with a knife and a cutting board. She was doing it so silently and diligently. She pulled out another stalk of celery, made a cut, then sighed. It looked troublesome.
Vaughn, who was watching her over the counter, didn't want to admit he was curious about the change of attitude. He wasn't against it since he liked it, the serenity and silence, but he knew there definitely was something wrong. And because he's the good guy with sometimes a bad attitude, he decided to be civil and make things as they were supposed to be, even though he knew he may regret it later on.
"What's wrong with you?" The perfect way to start it all out in his very manner.
"Oh, you're done…" Chelsea muttered not looking at him. "The scrambled eggs, omelets, and bacon are done too, so you can go ahead and eat… I'll just be chopping celery -" and she kept going, which was very unusual.
Vaughn stared at her. "No, really. Ever since we met up with that gang and that guy grabbed yo-"
BAM! CRACK.
…
…they were both shocked into a pause…
"What… happened?" Vaughn dared to ask.
Chelsea's reply took longer, but her answer was simple. She held up the chopping board. It was sliced into two parts. And she couldn't really explain the knife, as its handle was shattered.
"Get out of my kitchen." He instantly ordered.
She gestured toward the knife. "But the -"
"Forget it… " He said quickly, pulling out the seat of the table. "You, sit."
She sat. He didn't say anything as he gathered the celery into a small bowl and set it down the table. He took his plate and spoon and started taking some food, then he took a seat on the counter, facing the table. Chelsea gradually followed. After a few minutes of silently eating, Vaughn decided to try at it again, this time with some sort of lead.
"You sliced my cutting board in half and shattered the handle of my knife." He wondered if that was even possible, but reminded himself that this girl in front of him just did it.
"…Sorry."
"And when I mentioned that guy -" He suddenly regretted it when a loud SCREEECH! corrupted his ears. "… the plate…?"
"It's still a moon." Chelsea did notice the scratch mark she made with the fork, but the plate was still complete.
Vaughn wondered how he was supposed to make any progress if he couldn't say anything related to that guy. Probably Homosapien would work since her vocabulary was dastardly low, but she could easily relate it to 'that guy' and something would break, which he really wanted to avoid.
"That guy…" Chelsea finally began. "…that guy…" The face ran over her mind again and she set down her spoon and fork.
"What's he to you?" Vaughn tried to recall the guy too, but he never saw his face.
"…this might take long…" Chelsea replied.
"Just answer my question. It's only nine o' clock."
She looked at him sternly, a look that was definitely a first. "That guy… was my brother."
Vaughn set down his plate. He remembered that the guy did say something about her looking familiar. He heard that traits run through the family, but for her brother to be that perceptive impressed him, as it was only mere seconds that he first saw her and already recognized her. "Your brother?"
"I should've beaten him up right then and there." She looked angry as she sputtered that out of her system.
Vaughn scowled. He knew that the situation was calling for a bloody fist fight, but he was glad that it really didn't happen… in exchange for that awkward, unwanted comment.
"I'm wondering… why he's here… It's so far away from home. And he's still running with a gang too. I should've beaten him up."
Vaughn, for once, decided to continue digging for information. Why? He didn't know, but her family just suddenly became an interesting subject. "Why do you want to beat him up so badly?"
"He was the reason for all these debts… well, not really, but the reason why it's so hellish. He suddenly left me behind, to become the head of the house, just so he can make more trouble. He ran off a disappeared, taking all our money with him. He abandoned me so he wouldn't have to deal with father…"
Vaughn realized at that very moment… he really didn't know the farmer at all… or at least her past. Sure, personality wise, she was as easy to read at the get go, but he would have never guessed that the optimistic farmer could have a rather messed up past. He didn't really know much of the story, but he encountered bits and pieces of it before, like when her cousin Jack had come to visit. But now, it was pretty detailed.
"He's so stupid. He doesn't care anymore does he? I wonder why he grabbed me. He was right to say he recognized me, but why is that? I should've beat him up right then and there…" She clasped her hands together, anger clear on her face. "… but I couldn't move. It surprised me. It's been so long. So long since I last saw him."
The other didn't say anything. He really didn't have anything to say.
"I hate him. I hate him, I hate him, I really hate him… So much. Hate him. I hate him, Vaughn!" She brought her hands to her face and leaned a bit forward. "… but I missed him so much."
Vaughn wasn't sure if she was crying or venting up her anger, but he surely knew she had mixed feelings. He knew that if anyone else, who didn't know her secret of actually being a girl, were to see this, they would instantly know that she was definitely not a guy. When it comes to family, there is no way to hide who you really are, Vaughn presumed.
"If you missed him so much, why didn't you go find him?"
Chelsea looked up at him, who was seated calmly on the counter. "Find him? Yeah, right. He left without a trace and before we knew it, he was on tv causing so much trouble. He's always moving, there's no way -"
"He still should be around. It's late and he might still be there." Vaughn got off the counter easily and went to his room again. He came back wearing his jacket.
"What are you doing?"
Vaughn pulled her up out of her seat and pushed her ahead of him. "We're going to find your brother."
"What?" She suddenly turned around and grabbed his arms. "No… let's not."
"Why?" Vaughn did have a stubborn side once in a while. "Once you see him, you can beat the hell out of him."
"No… I don't want to see him…" Chelsea shook her head. "I really don't."
Vaughn shifted his weight to the other leg, raising his head a bit to stare at the ceiling, then back down again to the shorter brunette. "You sure?"
"Yeah…"
"Then…" He ruffled his hair a bit as it was still dripping. "Go take a shower. Blow off some steam."
"Alright." She scurried past him, heading for the bathroom.
Slowly, Vaughn turned around a pulled off his jacket. With the way things were going now, this was no good.
-x-
"You're sleeping on the floor?" Chelsea asked. "You should sleep on your own bed. I'll sleep on the floor."
"No, just sleep on my bed." Vaughn, who was sitting on the bed, patted the empty space beside him. He was a gentleman, so even if the girl was acting as a boy, he would still have to treat her as a gentleman…in a very indirect way.
She sat down next to him and picked at her clothes. "Thank you for the clothes… I wasn't expecting to stay. I'm sorry." She was wearing a t-shirt twice her size and really baggy shorts. With a small sniff, she could tell that the clothes were hardly worn since the smell was faint, but nevertheless, it had his scent.
"Don't worry about it." He said quietly.
For once, it was strangely awkward between them. Neither didn't know what to say or what to do. It was the first time Vaughn ever had a girl in his home. It was the first time for Chelsea to be in another man's home. And they both just realized it. But Vaughn had something to ask about prior events.
"What did Melano say to you?"
"Oh… him." Chelsea had completely forgot about the events prior. "He… told me about you."
"Like?"
"Your mother… and how you act. Here." She looked at him. "He said you're very antisocial and don't really interact with others very much. Very different from how you are in Sunny Island."
He didn't care for what they said about him. "What did he say about my mom?"
"She was gorgeous. And that she brought you here, both of you enjoying your lives… But she died." Then she recalled more, "Oh, and he was talking about your father, too -" She quickly stopped when she noticed Vaughn's hands ball up into tight fists. His muscles were visibly tense as if he didn't want to hear anymore. "..ah …"
"What did he say about him?"
"That… he was filthy rich… and you," she looked down, "… you hate him."
Vaughn let go of his hands, then clenched them again. "Yeah… I do hate him."
"Seems like we both hate somebody right?"
Vaughn simply nodded. It was true. They both came from destroyed families that was certainly falling apart. They had trouble with people and were hung up on money. The both had some sibling complex. They both had someone to hate. They both couldn't move forward. They were too busy looking back.
"You said… that we're alike." Chelsea continued, as she also was thinking the same. "I sorta can see why now."
"There's still a difference between us." Vaughn said.
"But that may help." Chelsea looked at him seriously. "With this difference… We may not be able to solve our own problems. I know, you and I, we like to do things on our own. But we could probably help each other."
"You… can't help me." Vaughn knew he received a disapproving look from her, but trained on. "These situations were brought down to us by ourselves. What we reap is what we sow."
"But they never said you can't receive help." She seemed irritated now. "Vaughn, I understand what you're saying, but why won't you accept help? We want to do it. Even if it's just a little."
"Stop that." His tone became a little harsh. "Deal with your own problems. I've got mine. You always stick your nose into places it doesn't belong. You always get involved."
"Because I want to help -"
"How can you help others if you can't even help yourself?"
She opened her mouth to answer, but realized she couldn't say anything in reply. That was a true statement. Sure, helping others with their situations is good, but what good will it do when your problems weigh down on others?
"…Goddess, you're exactly like her." Vaughn ruffled his hair in annoyance. "Down to every detail.."
Chelsea gave him a questioning look. "Like… who?"
"My mother." Vaughn answered straightforwardly. "Everything. She always got involved with everything. Helping people. Trying to make others smile. Doing her best in all that she does. Caring for everyone but herself. She always put everyone before herself, even if they used her; she never minded it. She completely forgot about herself, and because of that, she died. Just like your brother, she left me behind, and I never got to see her again."
"Vaughn…"
"I don't know why she wanted to leave the mansion. I don't know why she wanted to move to commoner life. I don't even know why I hate my father." He admitted darkly.
"Then you should go see him…. To get answers." Chelsea suggested hesitantly.
"Yeah? After you told him you hated him for the past fifteen years? Do you really think someone would really welcome you with open arms after that? After you ran away from him?" Vaughn angrily spat back. "And you, it's the same situation. You and your brother. Yet you don't do a thing."
"Vaughn…" Chelsea intervened. "You're shaking." He looked at her, his eyes empty and lost. "Look, your hands…" His hands were trembling uncontrollably and his whole body shivered coldly.
When it comes to family, there is no way to hide who you really are…
Warm hands wrapped around his shoulders and he felt another body press close beside him. Chelsea held him close, patting his head gently. The gesture kept him fixated to the spot. It was oddly familiar and very nostalgic. And it sent a chill through him.
"I don't know… if your mother used to do this, but I know my mommy did. I remember when my father left, my brother and I were crying…" She rocked him gently. "And my mom held us like this and comforted us. She always did this when we were afraid… or we didn't know what to do."
Vaughn eventually drifted into a distant memory, long forgotten. He saw his mother vividly smiling at him. Right around her death, if he recalled correctly.
-x-
"A hat, mom? What's this?"
"For you…" She looked a little hesitant, but decided to mention, "It's from your father."
It was a simple black hat with a white band around the crown. There really was nothing special to it at all. It looked suited for people much older than his age, being a boy and all.
Vaughn frowned in disgust at the mention of 'father'. "I don't want it." He refused it adamantly, pushing it back into her hands. "Not from him."
His mother gave him a sad look, very distant and wonder some. "…No… you shouldn't say that. You're father is not a bad man."
"Yeah, right. He pushed us away from him. He forgot about us and found a new family!" Vaughn blushed when he heard his voice crack. It was embarrassing, but he couldn't do anything about his voice changing. He still continued. "I hate that man. He's not my father."
"He loved you, Vaughn…Oh, Vaughn…" She pulled him into a warm hug, very caring and full of love. Vaughn loved being held by his mother, for it felt safe and comforting. "I love you."
-x-
"…Vaughn…"
"You're awake?"
"Yeah… I just realized something." Chelsea muttered quietly. "You know yesterday… a lot of people commented on us being a gay couple."
He grunted unhappily.
"You know that cash register guy thought so too." She shifted - just a smidge. "If anyone were to see this now, there would be no doubt about us being gay."
The two had actually fell asleep. Together. On a bed. Vaughn's bed, to be precise. Rest assured nothing happened as clothes were securely intact (they both sleep like rocks, hardly ever moving), but the thought was somehow very strange. The two must have been equally tired by the events that transpired the other day, but never really acknowledged it (since they are, after all, workaholics). In the end, Chelsea ended up resting atop Vaughn's chest.
Vaughn, half way possessed by sleep, muttered back. "… and what if I said I am gay? What would you do, hmm?"
Her response took very long… perhaps a full minute. "…That's kind of hard to believe, but if that's the case -"
"Get off." Vaughn groaned, purposely interrupting her. "You're heavy… I can barely breathe." He wondered why he even entertained the thought. She'll deal with a share of 'gay' another day, he was sure of it.
She rolled off of him, onto the floor. It was a very flat landing and the fall barely harmed her, but she managed an 'ouch' anyway.
He sat up on bed, feeling a headache form at the back of his head. Granted to him due to the lack of sleep, probably. He spotted his alarm clock on a nearby cabinet. Four in the morning, it said.
"Vaughn, I had a funny dream." Chelsea's face suddenly popped up beside his bed. "But it was really, really short. It took up my whole sleep and that was only four hours."
Vaughn considered her thought. He had had a massive, long dream as if he was on a thousand year journey, and yet it was only ten minutes. And he felt that it just happened to him again.
"No way, it's four in the morning." She grumbled. "Let me go back to sleep." She tried to crawl back into the bed under the covers, but Vaughn stopped her with his foot.
"No, you sleep on the ferry."
"What?" Her voice dragged out thoughtlessly.
Vaughn stood up from his bed and took his jacket which hung on a stand. "The first ferry leaves around five o' clock. Get ready." He picked up her folded clothes from yesterday and threw them at her.
-x-
How can you help others if you can't even help yourself?
Vaughn has dealt with a stubborn farmer, a mischievous farmer, and a reckless farmer, but today was his first time dealing with a grumpy farmer. And he concluded: he doesn't like this one either.
"Stupid, Vaughn. Making me stay awake." She griped. "I wanna go to sleep. Now."
"No. Stay awake. We're almost there." Vaughn uttered quietly.
"The sun's not up. The roosters aren't crowing." She frowned, crossing her arms. "Sleep. Forget the ferry."
"No way. You aren't missing another one."
"Stubborn Vaughn. Go fall off a cliff." She turned around, mumbling absently, "I'm going to sleep on a bench."
Vaughn grabbed at her collar and stated, "You. Ferry. At Five. Sunny Island."
She stuck her tongue out. "Stupid Vaughn. I don't like you winning an argument without using any verbs." (1)
He managed to drag the farmer to the dock and bought a ticket. She was on the brink of slipping to sleep. And they found a bench to sit on. Twenty minutes till five.
Chelsea was still overshadowed by slumber, but she ended up staying awake as they sat there. She looked down into Vaughn's hand to find one ticket. "Hey… where's my ticket?"
He didn't answer.
"So… you're the only one who's going back home?" She grimaced. "Then what was the point of dragging me all the way here?"
No response again.
"Well, since I'm here. Might as well buy a ticket for myself." She stuck out a tongue at Vaughn again. "Selfish Vaughn." She searched her pockets.
Thirteen minutes till five. The passengers were already lining up.
"Hmm…" She was busy picking through her wallet. "That's right… only five dollars left… How much is the ticket?" She wandered over to the booth to check out the pricings on the sign, then came back. "Crud, three dollars short."
The captain left the ship.
"Hey, Vaughn. Got three dollars to spare?"
The captain was coming around again.
"Vaughn?"
Said person stood from the bench and walked toward the herd of people who were planning to board. Chelsea followed, puzzled and slightly worried. Seven minutes.
"Hey, Vaughn. Seriously." She shook off slumber now and was wide awake. "You're not planning on leaving me here right?"
"No, I'm not." He finally answered her.
"Then let's go buy my ticket, Vaughn. So sour." She tugged at his sleeve toward the booth, but he didn't budge.
Five minutes.
"Hello? Vaughn…?"
He looked around, noticing that the others around were too busy with their own business. Then he looked at the frustrated farmer who was tugging away on his sleeve.
"Vaughn… They're already boarding the passengers." She pulled a little harder. "Let's hurry."
Vaughn held her hand, making her stop, both his large hands holding on gently to her own. She gave him a questioning look and he shook his head as if he didn't know what to say. "…Listen," he started, "tell Mirabelle and Julia that I won't be returning for a while."
"What are you talking about?"
Four minutes.
"I'll send somebody else to take my place for the trades. I'll find someone reliable and can do the task well."
"…what the heck are you saying?"
"Braden." He paused. "Don't worry about me. There's somethings I must do on my own. And… I need to let you go."
She was his crutch. She was like him. He saw himself in her. He saw the many similarities. She was tied to his life story. She was building him up. He knew he was being supported. He understood that he was being taught. She helped him enough. She had pushed him forward.
And it was time to let her go.
It was time to step forward.
"Are you leaving?" Her expression softened, clearly showing she came to understand the situation.
"I'll be back…" He said in all earnestness. "I'll definitely come back. But until then, I need to continue alone."
"Alright." Her acknowledgment surprised him, for her to accept so easily was strange. " I understand...I guess." He expected for her to argue and say something against him like she usually did, but the look on her face took him seriously. "But you better return!" She had her angry face on again.
And he patted her head. Then he pushed her forward to the ferry.
"One more thing."
Chelsea looked back at him. She looked confused, wondering what more he has to say.
"I like porridge. That's my favorite..." Vaughn, for once, looked a little embarrassed. "Ask Pierre to teach you how to make it one day."
Chelsea blinked at him, then nodded, a silly smile on her face.
"Excuse me?" The captain tapped her shoulder. "Your ticket?"
"Oh crap! That's right! I don't have a -" She found a ticket in her hands, which the captain took and ripped the tab, returning it back. She was caught in silence, then quickly looked at the dock.
Vaughn stood there no more. He was gone.
-x-
Oh boy. It's been how many months since I've updated. D: I'm sorry for my disappearance.
I kinda find this chapter depressing in its own twisted way. Probably because Vaughn left huh?
(1) - The actual quote came from Star Wars. Between Luke Skywalker and his son, Ben. Of course not worded the same, but same idea.
