Surviving on Your Own

18 Months &22 Days

It's been eighteen months and twenty-two days since I blew up Desthscythe. Is it possible to feel like you've lost apart of yourself after destroying a mecha? I think so, I feel like I've lost my right arm.

Anyways, Hilde found out about my little DUI from last month by rifling through my mail. Bitch found my summons to court. Can't freakin wait to do that. They'll probably sentence me to classes, AA, and community service or some shit. It had been cool seeing Noin though! She bailed me out, and took me to breakfast. See thinks I have a drinking problem. Ordering a Bloody Mary at nine a.m. didn't help my image any, but I had a hangover! Those drinks are like, the mother of all cures for hangovers.

So yeah, Hilde found out. She's not happy about it, and I think she knows I'm lying to her. I've told thirteen lies since my first one. All of which are to Hilde. Our relationship is under more strain than ever now. The sex is like virtually gone between us, and all we do is bicker and fight. Plus, I go out with Mihael almost every night, and Hilde hates him.

Though I'm not having sex with Hilde, I'm still doin the horizontal - occasionally vertical - tango with plenty of other people. It's too damn easy to find people who wanna have a good time and get down and nasty.

"Hey, whatcha makin?" I hear Mihael ask from behind me. We're spray painting in a sewer trench that's already riddled with graffiti. He's been painting dumb shit like "I fucked your mom here". Genius.

"That looks like one of them Gundams," he says. Yes, Einstein, it is, and it's the most bad ass one. It's small, not a big fuckin mural, which my buddy deserves.

"Yup," is all I say.

"Looks good, ya ever wonder who the pilots were?"

"Nope."

"Well I do, I heard they were like real young and shit. Musta had tough lives to be able to fight against all odds and come out victorious," he kneels down beside me.

"We had pretty tough lives," he murmurs.

"Yeah, we did," I whisper. I don't really wanna go down that road and reminisce about our past, but I don't think I'll have a choice.

Mihael laughs a mirthless chuckle. "You 'member how strict Solo used to be on drugs and whorin?"

I nod my head. "Yeah, he didn't want us kids gettin mixed up in that kinda shit."

"Yeah, but most of us whored at some point. Had ta. I did, did you?" He looks me dead in the eye. I want to lie again, but I haven't lied to him yet, and it's harder to lie when you're staring at someone this close.

"I did it a few times," I shrug. "But I never came back with money. I always spent it on food and brought it back for the whole gang. Solo woulda known for sure if I came back with a fat wad of cash."

Mihael chuckles that sad laugh again. "Yeah, he woulda. That's the only time I ever had sex with men. I dunno how you do it."

Now I make a sad sounding laugh. "Sometimes I dunno how either. I just like anything on two legs with a pretty face and a pulse." This makes him snort out a real laugh. Good, at least I can still find humor in such a serious conversation.

Our not so enjoyable reminiscing is cut short. Blue and red lights are flashing, illuminating us in the dark. Like hell if I'm gonna get busted by the cops again.

"Run!" We both scream at each other and bolt. I toss my half empty bottle of vodka.

We run up the side of the trench, and climb over a chain link fence. Mihael runs to the left, and I go straight. I don't get very far, and the pig mobile stops two inches away from taking my legs out. The cop jumps out of his car, draws his weapon and yells, "Freeze, put your hands up!" I comply immediately.

He walks towards me, gun still aimed at my chest. Fucking hate being at the wrong end of a pistol. "Drop to your knees, and put your hands behind your head!" Again, I'll play good boy, and do as he says.

Mr. Piggy - and he's a fat son of a bitch too, probably shoulda kept running - makes his way behind me, grasp my wrists and cuffs me. He hauls me up, and pats me down. I hate this part, I always feel molested. He removes my wallet and roughly puts me in the backseat of his cruiser. God motherfucking damn it.

Officer Pig looks up my rap sheet and talks into his walkie talkie. This is fan-fucking-tastic, just what I need, another damn run in with L2's finest.

He turns to look back at me through the mesh looking cage that separates us. "Underaged drinking and driving. DUI plus a vandalism charge might actually land you a small stint in jail." He turns off the camera that watches the front of his vehicle. "You must want to avoid that at all costs, hmm?" Oh, fuck. He's beady little ugly eyes are appraising me as he licks his sweaty lips.

I do want to avoid that. I cringe and say through gritted teeth, "Yeah, I do."

"Well handsome, maybe we can come to an arrangement," leers the sweaty fat fuckhead.

I know where this is leading to, and I don't think I've got much of a choice. "I have AIDS," I lie, lie number fourteen. Though it's not too threatening, we've got a cure for that now, but still no one wants to get it.

"I got a rubber," he smiles at me. His teeth are fucking nasty. Every hear of a toothbrush?

He gets out of the car and comes around to the backseat. "Lay on your stomach, handsome," he orders as he opens the door. I could kick him, try and run again, pick the cuffs off when I'm safe, but the fucked has my I.D. with my name and address.

I nod my head and do as he says. Pig pulls my pants and boxers down to my ankles without undoing them. He pets my hair and gropes my ass, as his breathing turns into pants already. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, I don't want to do this. My heart is pounding heavily in my chest, my mouth is dry, and I feel like I'm about to cry. I won't though, I won't cry in the face of this, it's only the panic that's making me want to do so.

I hear him tear a condom wrapper. Okay, okay, shit this is going to happen. I do what I used to when I found myself having to whore around, I force my mind to go somewhere else, block out what's happening. I'm trying to find a happy mental place to go when he shoves it in. Fuck! I can feel myself tearing a bit, and he groans over me. God, he could have at least taken the cuffs off.

Happy place, happy place, gotta find a happy place. Aw, gawd he even grunts like a pig. Somehow my mind leads me to the other pilots. I think of Quatre running his dads business and his million sisters. Must be nice to have a home and a family. I think of Wufei and how we used to bicker with each other. I used to bug the crap outta him on purpose, but I think he liked the attention. I think about Trowa and hope he's okay. I heard about his accident in the circus on and online news site. Couldn't believe it at first, seemed so unlikely to happen to a guy like him. I think about Heero, and how he's doing with Relena. I think about how his blue eyes were the bluest I've ever seen. Blue like the vast unyielding ocean.

It lasts for what seems like forever. And then there's a tug on my hands, my wrists are free. Oh thank God, this is over. My shirt is damp from his sweat, and I feel extremely nauseous. He slaps me on the ass and says, "Alright handsome, get outta here."

I pull my pants back up, retrieve my wallet from his sweaty hands and briskly walk away. I'm starting to really hate my life. I need a fucking drink. I stop by a liquor store and purchase a bottle of whiskey. The clerk didn't even ask for my I.D. Good, cuz I don't have my fake anymore. Gulping down the bitter-sweet substance helps to calm my nerves.

By the time I walk into the apartment I've drunk a good chunk of it.

"You're drinking again?" Hilde asks from the couch. She looks irritated.

I snarl. "Yeah, so what?" I bite out.

She glares back at me. "What's your fucking problem?"

"Bad night," is all I say as I head for the bathroom. I need to wash this filth off me.

I slept on the couch of my own volition. Well, more like tossed and turned. Ugh, I don't want to go to work today. I just want to lay here and do nothing.

Hilde comes out of our bedroom. "You're not up yet?" She asks.

"I don't really feel like going in today," I reply.

"Well you have to. I have a doctor's appointment this morning, I haven't been feeling well lately, so you gotta go."

I sigh, "Fine." And she vacates our apartment without another word.

I get ready for work with the morning news playing on the telly. I'm about to turn it off when Quatre appears on the screen.

"Winner heir is forced to leave his position as CEO of Winner Enterprise Inc, for gambling away ten million dollars of the company's money," informs the female news anchor. The play footage of Quatre being lead out of a building by security guards. Reporters swarm him as he makes his way to his limo. He doesn't say anything to them, and he looks so ashamed. Holy fucking shit...I can't believe this.

I worked through the morning in a haze. Just couldn't stop thinking about curly-Q. I even sent him an email telling him that if he needs anything I'm here for him. With all this clouding my mind I couldn't stay. Hilde never came in, and she isn't answering my calls, so I closed up shop after our usual lunch hour.

I notice a moving van in our drive way as I come around the corner on my motor bike. What the fuck? Three of Hilde's close girlfriends are closing the van up as I approach. They glare daggers at me. What the hell did I do? I don't bother to ask, and walk into our place.

Jesus Christ! All of her shits gone! What the fuck is going on?! She steps out of our bedroom, hands behind her back. She looks like she's been crying, a lot.

"Babe, what's going on?" I ask.

"Come here Duo," she says softly.

I walk up to her and rub her upper arms. "Are you leaving me?" I ask, trying to look in her eyes, but she's avoiding me.

She pulls me into a tight hug, and -FUCK! I fall on the floor gasping, and grasping my nuts. Bitch just need me in the fucking balls! I look up at her to cuss the shit out of her, but what I see in her hands makes me choke and all thought leave my mind. In one hand, she's holding a pair of scissors. I her other hand is a good chunk of my...

She throws down the end of my braid to the floor. My hair falls loose around my face. "That's for the gonorrhea!" Hilde screams at me.

She stomps her way to the front door, all I can do is stare at my hair, laying on the ground. "Oh, and you're fired!" She screeches and slams the door behind her. I listen as the van drives away.

My whole body is shaking. With fear, outrage, or sorrow, I'm not quite sure. The DUI, that cop from last night, gonorrhea? I have fucking gonorrhea? She chopped half my braid off...she fucking cut it off...this is too much to take. A blood curdling scream falls from my mouth.

Caseycuervo: I'm sorry Duo

Duo: Um, fuck you. Don't talk to me.