Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts or any other Square Enix creation or product. Any similarities are purely coincidental – well, you might find some similarities since this is a fanfiction.

A/N: I wasn't sure how to go about this chapter. I was toying with several various scenarios and I'm not even really pleased with the ending; but, I wanted to submit another chapter while I had this in mind or else it'd never get put up. So, here it is.

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The walk home had been brutal and she had nothing worthwhile to greet her at home. She had no messages left on her phone from the friends she didn't have anymore, no mail to look at, and not even a pet happy to see her when she opened the door. Feeling ultimately frustrated with the entirety of her life, she shut the door and flung her keys angrily onto a nearby seat. She couldn't stand this anymore; she had to do something with her life. Her home, her heart, and her world were so empty. Where were all her friends now that she felt that she needed them the most?

Her eyes roamed listlessly about her apartment, taking in what little there was. There was a small makeshift coffee table composed of an upturned cardboard box; it sat carelessly in the center of her living room. Across from it was the beige couch that, while it was sold to her under the claim that it would roll out into a bed, all it could do was seat two people and make her angry. To the right of her was a wooden island that was supposed to serve as a counter; on the opposite side of her she knew it carried the dishes and spices that she had, and on the top of it was two ranges that supposedly made the stove. The rest of the kitchen was still unfinished for the exception of a rather gruesome looking sink; she often made trips to the bathroom instead.

There was absolutely no way that she would even consider allowing any one to her house like this. It was a dump, a mess, and a poor reflection on her as a person. She was better than this, she told herself halfheartedly – but if that was really true, then why was she working two jobs, miserable, and all alone? She dumped her books onto the counter and slumped to the floor with a little sob. This wasn't fair. Where she was now in life had trapped her in its horrible grasp and there was nowhere to go and no one to help her. Hayner and Pence were all busy and doing things she didn't understand and really didn't care for – but at least they were successful, her mind told her. She despised the truth of it, but a thought brought her some comfort.

She had Pence's number, and he usually picked up if she called (however rarely that happened to be lately.) She could tell him about the sketch; he'd be excited about it and talk to her! With a little effort the brunette pulled her phone from the pocket of her overflowing gown, and dialed her friend's number quickly. She became disconcerted when the phone continued to ring, a wave of relief sweeping over her when she heard the artist's voice pick up on the other end.

"Charming Sunrise, this is Pence speaking."

"Pence? It's Olette." She tried wiping her nose clean with the back of her hand, unwilling that her friend should sense anything was wrong. She was relatively successful and he didn't mention it if he noticed anything.

"Olette! Good to hear from you! What's up?"

"Remember the cardinal trio picture that you'd mailed me a couple weeks ago?"

"Yeah, I do; that one became pretty popular, and people wanted me to auction off the original, but I told them it had gone someplace special." There was a relaxing chuckle on the other end that she found comforting. It was good to talk to someone.

"Well, you've got me into drawing birds. I've got two so far, and one is almost finished. Would you mind if I sent them over so you can criticize the lack of skill in this grasshopper?" They both laughed at that.

"Sure, no problem! Looking forward to it! Nothing else new?"

For a moment she paused. She wanted to mention Seifer for some reason, but forced the image of the male she had decided to reject from her head.

"I just got home from the graduation ceremony for college, remember?" She prodded on the subject gently, knowing he had better things to do than keep up to date on her schedule.

"Yeah, I remember; I forgot it was today, though. How'd it go? Any moving speeches?"

"I wasn't really paying attention; just took my diploma and left. It gave me time to get some of the finishing touches on my sketches done, though!"

"Well, at least you accomplished something," he joked. "Hey, I've got an interview coming up in a minute. Want to talk later?" She felt a frown fall onto her face.

"Sure, no problem; I'll just finish up some stuff around the house," she lied, her voice holding some pep to it that she didn't think she actually had.

"Alright, talk to you later! Peace, Olette!"

She stared at the "Call Ended" message on her phone and sighed. There was nothing to do around the house and she had nowhere to go. Her life was boring and it was dragging her down. She already worked two jobs, though; maybe she should look for somewhere better to work? A glance at her phone told her that it was still early in the afternoon at barely ten past four. Even with the thought of a better environment, she couldn't bring herself to go out.

Dropping her phone onto the floor (the only nice thing in her apartment that served its purpose,) she made her way to the bedroom. It was as empty as the preceding rooms, but it was a bit homier here. Red and white checkered curtains billowed slightly as if to wave to her. Underneath that window (the broken window, she noticed for the first time today) was her bed which consisted of a blanket on the floor as her mattress, a pillow, and a blanket on top of that. To the right there was a closet where the doors were partially fallen from their hinges. She admitted to herself there was nothing homey about this room and began to undress. It didn't matter to her what she would wear as she was not going anywhere.

Completely careless of her dress conditions now, she selected a pastel yellow pair of pajama pants with blue stars printed on it; and, alone, she decided that her blue bra was suitable enough to match her pajamas. There was no one here to see, anyways. Satisfied with her wardrobe, she slipped on the pants and shuffled drearily towards her kitchen. There was nothing there but a box of cereal to eat. Tomorrow on the way home from work, she would have to go shopping; for now, cereal would do.

She poured herself a bowl of Apple Jacks and ate the cereal bits at a time with her hand. There was no point in using a spoon; she was in no hurry and she had no milk. She reached over and pulled her sketchpad from the stack of books. The plump face of the bird stared back at her curiously but she thought it looked too lifeless to be realistic. Pence had always captured the life in someone's eyes, something she couldn't seem to manage with even something as small as a bird. Her hands curled into tight fists at the thought of how she had failed at something yet again.

Before she was able to turn to her cereal and get her first bite in, a knock at the door startled her.

"Hold on," she hollered, raising herself from the wobbly stool with care. She had no intent of rushing back into her bedroom to dress; no, whoever was at her door couldn't be important and didn't deserve her concern. She made her way slowly to the door, retrieving her phone from the floor along the way, and grimaced as she remembered there was no eyehole to see who it was. She cracked opened the door enough so she could see who it was and felt horror sink into the pit of her stomach. It was Seifer.

"What do you want here?" She demanded, trying to reason how he had managed to locate her apartment.

"Wanted to talk if that's alright. I can talk out here or in there, but I'm going to talk."

It made her sick to think that he assumed he was going to get what he wanted. The uncomfortable feeling in her gut vanished as it was quickly replaced by a consuming fire. She wanted to swing open the door and punch his face off!

"I don't care what you want; you can talk to my door for all I care," she spat venomously, tugging the door shut with as much force as she could muster.

"Have it your way," she heard his muffled cry on the opposite side of the door. She agreed to herself that she would. On her way back to her early dinner, she heard him begin to croon and merely shook her head. If he was going to be stubborn, that was fine; two could play at that game. She seated herself on the stool again and was about to take another bite as she began to hear something that she never thought would be happening to her life.

"Baby would you just open the door? I didn't mean anything! It wasn't what you thought! If you'd let me inside I'll explain everything and we can make up! I miss you! You're better than that other slut! Come on!"

Her teeth grit together as the most extreme frustration filled her. She felt violated. She was going to have to concede defeat not because she cared about his caterwauling, but because if the landlord received a call (which undoubtedly was taking place at this moment), she'd be kicked out for being the cause of a disturbance. Slamming her palms down on the surface of the stove and counter, she stood up so suddenly from the stool that the poor thing fell over. Her feet stomped angrily against the floor as she made her way back to the door and she ripped the door open with as much strength as she had shut it.

Her expression that had been red with fury darkened further, if possible.

"You will shut up and either come in my house to talk, or you will leave. You'll get me kicked out!" She hissed, her free arm making wild and hysteric gestures. "I don't need this kind of trouble from you!"

The blond only whistled in response.

"I didn't think you'd warm up to me that easily," he laughed, arms crossed in a stance of triumph. She realized at this point her state of poor dress and the color drained from her face.

"Step inside, please," she muttered dejectedly, stepping aside so he could come into her home. As he swept past her she felt so violated, and he had never once touched her so far. He had seen the nakedness of her home, her state of living, and now her body (at least, to her, it was that way.) This time she shut the door with a defeated spirit.

"What did you want," she questioned, voice monotone, her arms desperately crossing over her chest so that she might prevent him from seeing anything further. When she received no response, she quirked a brow and became genuinely curious.

His back turned and his hands in his pockets, he was overall relatively still. He was expecting perhaps something a bit more elegant than this. He had been informed that Olette worked two jobs in her spare time and rumors were going about that she'd pick up another one since college had finished. With all the money, he was sure she'd live in a place where at least things were put together. Granted, with a little work, the apartment could look radiant – but it didn't, and that bothered him. He had not heard her question and instead was gazing in almost offense at the direction of her kitchen.

"So you live here?" He said at length, turning to face her. The blond's face was an unreadable mask that she found disturbing. Was he judging her by the condition of her house? The thought of it made her flustered and she snapped at him with a sarcastic retort.

"No, it's a friend's house. They're never home so I stay here all of the time watching over the place for them."

"Could've fooled me. So you live here," he confirmed, brushing off her attack smoothly. "Why here?"

"Because I can afford it?" Her tone suggested that he had stepped on a nerve, and one glance at her face made him a bit uneasy at being here. He had no problem with her house although he'd never admit that; popular and wealthy people simply did not make themselves comfortable in "dumps," after all. What honestly bothered him was the fact that she lived here. She deserved better than this... any human being did.

"Would you mind – is it possible – do you have time if I took you out to dinner?" Seifer obviously wasn't used to handling attitude as well as he was trying to make it seem, and she had a feeling by the reddening of his face that he often didn't stutter. She had no pity on him and she detested the idea of being in public with him, but going out to eat sounded better than wallowing in solitude with a bowl of cereal. She nodded her head slowly, unwilling to verbally respond.

It was at this point she noticed that he was casually but decently dressed. An unidentifiable color for his vest over a light shirt along with navy pants most definitely brought out his eyes; he had a better taste of dress than attitude, she thought.

"Anything you like to eat especially?" As seemed the case with Seifer, if she ever attempted to resist in any way, he eventually would break that resistance. She was loathe to lose this unspoken battle and simply shrugged. She really didn't care, as long as it wasn't Mexican.

"How about El Gato? It's not far from here." He noted her visible grimace.

"I don't like Mexican," she stated slowly, almost sulkily. He almost smirked.

"How about Chinese then?" Eager to finish the conversation, she leaped upon the opportunity.

"Fine. Chinese. Let me get dressed." She stalked past him hurriedly, arms crossed over her chest, almost tripping over her own feet.

"You want to leave now?"

"Yes," she called back over her shoulder, and promptly shut her bedroom door to prevent him from seeing anything. There wasn't exactly a lot she could wear, and she toyed with the idea of tossing on a casual shirt and leaving as she was; unfortunately, she considered herself more dignified than that and pulled a black knee-length skirt from her wardrobe. With it she had grabbed a black blouse with one too many ruffles at the hems for her, but it looked well together. The brunette was certain her hair was completely unmanageable today and found the concept of doing her hair a waste of time. A small pile of cosmetics offered her some lip gloss that she applied cautiously, being without the aid of a mirror.

She was at a loss for shoes. All she had in her possession was a pair of worn sneakers that were a faded blue and white. They absolutely would not do with her attire, but having nothing else she slipped them on grudgingly. Feeling mostly satisfied and prepared, she exited her bedroom and adjusted the back of her shirt nervously. She did want to look presentable although she didn't hold the highest opinion for Seifer. He seemed to appreciate her look and, to her surprise, said nothing; instead, he offered her his arm and a charming grin. His arrogance caused her to decline with a frown and she stepped past him to grab her phone; then, as if escorting him out, she opened her door and swept her arm out. With a sigh, he obliged and waited for her to lock up her apartment before he uttered a sound.

On their brief stroll to his vehicle, he almost commented on her choice of shoes but thought better of it. If her living conditions were not any indication of her budget, then nothing would be. Instead, he decided to compliment her on what she did have that looked attractive.

"You didn't do anything to your hair," he noted.

"No, I didn't," she agreed almost amiably enough, taking care not to step too close to him. His car was within sight and she was hoping that the ride would be short.

"It still looks nice," he offered weakly. She said nothing and continued walking.

He was getting nowhere with this woman. She was the most frustrating person he had ever met in his life short of his own mother! It was actually an effort to be on speaking terms with her. He evidently wasn't allowed to give her rides to her house (from the college, at least), it was taboo to speak of her home and it was pointless to mention her good looks. Seifer didn't have a lot to work with and wasn't accustomed to a girl maintaining a reserved composure around him. It was a nice change, he noted, but still a difficult one when the cause was due to the female despising him entirely.

As they came to a halt near his vehicle, he opened the door for her and watched her slip inside. She seemed extremely uncomfortable despite the lush seating of his Porsche. He knew very well that she wasn't going because she wanted him to take her out to dinner; so, then what? Was it because the bowl of cereal he had seen was all she had? Was it because she wanted to perhaps humiliate him in public? Did she simply want to test him on his choice of menu? Thoroughly puzzled, he shut the door once he was sure she was fully inside and made his way to the driver's seat.

When he was buckling his seatbelt, he couldn't help himself. He turned to her.

"Why do you hate me so much?" Her response stunned him as it was immediate and firm.

"Because you're full of yourself and I'm not a spread-legged dud like the others you're used to hanging around."

It tore open a wound into him and it stung profusely. No woman had ever spoken to him like that before – no one had spoken to him like that ever. Feeling his temper flare, he wisely chose to keep quiet and turned back to face the wheel. Their ride went by in a tense silence.

When the car pulled out of the stop, the brunette unbuckled herself and exited the vehicle as quickly as it was physically possible. Seifer didn't understand what her problem was. He was taking her to dinner and he was actually playing the gentleman. Did she not like being treated like a woman – did she like it rough, maybe? While she certainly could look feminine and attractive, she didn't show any signs of related behavior. It sent him mixed signals and it was with great bewilderment and stifled anger that he stepped out of the car to join his companion for the night.

Pao's Dragon normally was a throng of people but tonight, for some reason, the blond noticed that the restaurant was unusually vacant. It was obvious from the outside if one looked past the darkly tinted windows, but when he opened the door for his lady, he was able to step inside and see that aside from a family in the corner, they were the only ones planning to eat there.

"Table for two?" A waitress had approached them eagerly, also perturbed by a lack of customers.

"Two," he echoed, allowing their server to guide them to a nearby table. The room was exquisitely furnished enough that Olette seemed acutely uncomfortable, a factor which, at this point, made Seifer feel much better. As the waitress was handing them their menus, he turned to the staff member and presented to her a question he hoped she might not brush off.

"So why is it so empty tonight?"

"The Kung-fu Palace is having their grand opening a block down," she replied sullenly. Her accent was thick, proving her heritage, but he found little difficulty in understanding her. "There are entertainers there – martial artists – and music, as well as dancing. It's a Chinese bar, something we don't have," she finished bitterly.

"So what can I get you to drink?"

He glanced to his partner who seemed uninterested in anything taking place. Her eyes were directed towards the windows and cars passing by to undoubtedly the grand opening of the new Chinese "bar." She must not have heard because she said nothing. He intended to order the drinks in one go and so decided to choose for her.

"We'll both have iced tea."

When the waitress dismissed herself from the table, the woman with him spoke up with acid almost pouring from her mouth.

"Tea is such a refined drink. I normally have water, for future reference."

"So you'll go out to eat with me again?"

She started, clearly annoyed by the lack of visible damage she had delivered.

"What is your problem? Does it look like I want to be here with you?"

"I didn't force you to come."

"You were caterwauling out of my door! You could have kicked me out," she seethed, voice low and hissing, a sign that warned him that this was soon to be a woman scorned.

"Look, I'm sorry, alright? I'm honestly sorry. I didn't expect you to hate going out in public with me so much. Next time, I'll bring food over there; how's that?"

Her anger seemed to deflate at this and he was quite pleased with himself for it.

"I don't want to be around you at all," she informed him casually, her tone suggesting nothing but her words everything. She had said this as he was in mid-sip, and he choked enough so the tea went through his nose. Flustered, he wiped his face clean by swiping it with his arm and leaned forward to her.

"What did I do to make you so uptight?"

"I am not uptight!" Her voice had risen considerably enough so that the family in the back had turned their heads to see what the ruckus was about. He knew he had struck a nerve, but he never expected explosive reactions. Seifer felt at a loss as he watched her excuse herself from her seat and stroll outside.

He was fully aware that she had no way to get to her house before more undesirable people began to roam the city streets. He shook his head and sipped at his tea tentatively this time, unwilling for anymore disasters while drinking. After several moments when the waitress returned and Olette didn't, he felt a twinge of concern kindle in his mind. He politely explained to the waitress the predicament and that he was going to go after his date, not the Kung-fu Palace. With this relief in mind, his server brightened up and said it was fine, fine; that he should go after his lady friend before it got too dark. Already the streetlights were burning, announcing twilight's conclusion.