"Reality is the leading cause of stress amongst those in touch with it." - Jane Wagner

I stumbled around in the darkness that shrouded the park, my head was spinning as I stumbled forward and fell to my knees on the grass.

"Bulma," a muffled voice called out from behind me.

"Shit!" I quickly tried to get to my feet but with much difficulty. My heart was beating in my ears out of fear as I attempted to place as much distance between myself and my attacker as possible in my currently muddled state.

If ever I wondered what it was like to be in a horror movie, this was definitely what I could imagine it must feel like.

I stumbled into tree after tree, the only things keeping me from falling over with every few steps I took. My eyes lit up at the sight of a clearing where the lights of the city could be seen. I pushed myself off of the tree and made another attempt at running.

I did not make it very far.

Without seeing it coming, I felt my hip brush past something and my body was suddenly seizing from being somehow electrocuted. I tumbled to the ground as my legs gave out in pain, and was unable to call out due to my leg being grabbed and given another shock, rendering me a twitchy, sputtering mess.

"I did not want to resort to hurting you, but you are a stubborn one," my assailant mused, dragging me farther back into the park by the ankle.

I managed to roll over onto my back as I slid across the grass, hazily staring at the clothed back of my captor, trying to ask a desperate question. "W-what did y-you...?" was all I could coherently articulate.

"I gave your system a small shock of a few hundred volts of electricity. Not enough to stop your heart, but just enough to disrupt your nervous system...temporarily, of course," The Figure elaborated, still dragging me. "I just need to complete this task for you. It would have only taken a moment, but you are making it increasingly difficult to do so, what with all of your running,"

I attempted to grab one of the passing trees, but it seemed that I was lacking dexterity at the moment. Though she was unable to outwardly show it, I was silently panicking as I tried to think of a way out of this bleak situation.

I was suddenly brought to a stop before a single thought could come to mind.

My unfocused eyes stared upon the night sky. A few seconds went by and I foolishly believed that I had been left alone, but only for about ten seconds.

The Figure reappeared and loomed above me, its face like a dark, blank slate.

My eyes widened at the fearsome sight.

The Figure came closer. "Now. I need you to lie very still. This can be very painful, but, of course, that all depends upon your cooperation," it ominously warned. Still coming closer, its long, flowing hair acted as a curtain for the interaction.

I was violently shook before a face could be made out.

I shot up out of my sleep, frantically looking around for the culprit of my crash, only to find that I was now in my lab, sitting at my desk.

I leaned back in my chair with a sigh.

This was the third time today that I had spaced out like that. My mind kept taking me back to that night before, but was only giving me fragments at a time; the ending, a small portion of the beginning, and then bits of the middle. That odd order made it extremely difficult for me to put the pieces in their proper place.

And there was a desperate need to do so.

Something deep down inside of myself was saying that I needed to remember what was said to me. My heart was trying to tell me something, but my brain wouldn't allow me to listen. It was as if I was keeping myself in the dark about what transpired between me and that figure.

This was an alarming turn of events.

But the fact that I couldn't fully recall something so recent was the real cause for worry in and of itself.

Along with a way above average intellect, I had been gifted with an eidetic memory. I have memories that go back as early as two years old. I have the ability to perfectly recall something after only being exposed to it once, vividly remember small details, able to echo exact words, recognize a voice with ease. But none of this was possible for me for a little while after that accident.

"Are you done staring at the wall like an idiot, or should I just come back?"

I whipped my head to the side at the sound of the voice, finally realizing that someone was standing beside me, and very much fell out of my chair with a yelp of surprise. I landed on my backside in an awkward fashion. "Ouch," I groaned. I opened my eyes to find my cousin shaking her head with disapproval. Nothing too out of the ordinary about that really.

"For the love of God, Bulma, can you be any more graceless?" Van commented, arms crossed over her chest.

I blew some hair out of my face before answering. "I guess not," I relented. I began picking myself up from the floor. "Not that I'm not over the moon to see you and all, but, uh, why are you here?" I asked as I made my body vertical.

"If you must know, I just arrived here with your dad and Panchy told me that you were down here. I know that you heard that he was helping me today,"

I nodded in confirmation. "I did. I need to thank him for that when I see him," I reminded myself aloud.

"As you should. The man came out of retirement for you," Van all too willingly added. "All because The Golden Child right here can't help but make a spectacle out of herself. I mean really, you couldn't find somewhere less conspicuous for a crash landing?"

I raised an eyebrow at her in confusion. "What're you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that your vehicle made the front page today," she pulled out her phone. She swiped her finger across the screen a few times before presenting the device to me. It was an online newspaper article with a headline that read "Crash & Dash at West City Park!" along with a photo of my wrecked jet. "They're still trying to come up with ideas of who the owner could be,"

"Oh shit!" I swore, taking the phone and scrolling through the article.

"That would be the correct reaction in this predicament. I'm almost certain that was the exact same reaction when the West City Post got a hold of the photo." She got in to an even more annoyed stance. "What on Earth would possess a woman in your position to abandon her custom-made, limited-edition model jet smouldering in the middle of West City Park?" Van angrily asked.

I handed her back the phone. "But I was told that it was retrieved around 3 a.m. this morning. And even if someone managed to get a snap of the scene, how is it even possible that this story has already been printed?"

Van placed the phone in her pocket. "However this may have happened, we have to get to work fixing it. Since this is more towards your field of expertise, what with the press and all, do you have any ideas about how and where to start?"

I smoothed my bangs back in frustration, only to have the hairs bounce right back into place on my forehead. "I know the Editor in Chief of the newspaper. I'll talk to her and see what I can do about letting the story die out with the rest of the week," I said, sitting back down in my chair.

Van turned my chair towards her before speaking. "And how, might I add, are you planning to get a shark like her to just drop a story like this?"

I stared up at her with a straight face. "Simple. By giving her something else to talk about,"

The tanned-skin woman narrowed her eyes. "And what will this something else be?"

I looked off thoughtfully for a moment. "This could be a stretch, but it might be worth it if I play this just right." I gave a confident smirk at her confused face. "You let me worry about this, okay?"

Van stood unconvinced. "Bulma, before you do something irreparably foolish, remember that you are the face of this company. If you screw this up it could hurt us all. Do you understand me?" she sternly said.

"I got you," I calmly reassured.

"I'm not joking around with you right now. You need to take this seriously,"

This time I gave her a confused look. "When have I ever not taken something seriously?"

"Other than practicing the proper use of contraception?" Van nonchalantly bit.

I winced at the comment as if it physically hurt. "Ouch. Low blow, Van, low blow," I lightly said in order to keep my language from becoming colorful.

The story of how Trunks came to be was not something I was particularly proud of, but I was in no way ashamed or regretful of the situation that Vegeta and I, two consenting adults, had placed ourselves in. How could I when the end result was my beloved son? I had gladly owned up to my part in the accidental pregnancy, so no one had the ability to hold it over my head, but it still occasionally stung to be reminded of how I allowed my lascivious emotions to take the reigns back then.

"Whatever," Van muttered, and began making her way towards the door. "Just do whatever it is you're planning to do first thing tomorrow morning," she said as she made her exit. "Oh, and that God son of yours told me to tell you that he'll call you,"

"Huh?" I began searching around my work space. This was the first time that I was noticing that neither my mother nor the boys were anywhere in sight. "How in the..." I cut myself off. I looked down at my watch and it read 8:35 p.m. "What the hell?" I was more than a little confused by where the time had went, but waited until the door closed behind my agitated cousin before hopping out of my chair.

Did I just pass out after I came in here? What am I? Some kind of Freddie Kruger victim? I thought to myself as I began pacing back and forth. I tried to think back to earlier that day to could have been causing these bouts of absentmindedness.

I suddenly stared at the palms of my hands. At that moment, a memory flashed before my vision.

The darkness of the room, all too similar to what you would assume ones subconscious might look like. The sudden quaking that shook my entire being. The absolute terror that gradually increased with the pain on my bicep, and the subsequent breakdown that followed. And then there was the calm. The beautiful hues of blue that flowed like two streams and the voices that called out to me, urging me to extend a limb, risking the appendage at the insistence of the disembodied voices.

I took a calming breath and the memory vanished.

The feeling I experienced in that dark room had been nothing short of euphoric. I wasn't entirely certain as to why, on instinct one could suppose, but I began looking around my lab for any object that I could get my hands on. My eyes landed on one of the five monitors that were in various places around my work area. I slowly inched forward with an outstretched hand like a woman possessed.

I wanted that feeling of euphoria back, and my body was telling me that this was the way I had to do that.

I pressed my fingers and then palm against the screen and shut my eyes. I slowly lifted my lids, hoping to be back in the solace of that dark room, but found that I was very much still standing in my lab.

With an almost solemn sigh, I retracted my hand. Why didn't that work? I thought to myself, but a thought came to mind that gave me pause.

Why did I expect that to work in the first place?

I rubbed at the side of my neck in utter confusion.

I gazed around, remembering that I was still alone, surrounded by nothing but products of my own design. I felt the many devices calling out, as if speaking to my very soul. But the voices from before were not responsible for the bewitching attraction. No. This was something else, something more...inviting.

Surprising myself, I ignored the beckoning of which the origin I could not understand, and practically forced myself to leave the lab.

The remainder of my time awake wad ruled by a singular thought; that moment in the Son's living room.

What happened to me over there? What was different? I wanted to know. I had to know.

The day was seemingly dragging on, I was sure of it.

It seemed as though time itself was moving at a glacial pace for me that day.

The one time I wanted the day to end in a hurry and this was what I got instead. I had spent the better half of the day hidden away inside the G.R., far from the knowing eyes of the human that trampled over my pride with nothing but her words.

I saw her a few hours before.

I just caught her staring through the window, standing there like some sullen statue, seemingly watching me. But that would have made no sense. She was the one responsible for the current state we were in, so why the pitful look in her eyes?

That would confuse for years to come.

I would have only been lying to myself if said that I hadn't had a nagging feeling in regards to the woman. All day long, I had been trying to keep a minimalistic watch over her, whilst raging war on an invisible enemy. Her state had been causing me great worry our disagreement that morning.

As she finishes her verbal assault, I approached her with a purposely intimidating posture.

"Do you really believe that?" I asked her, hoping that she truly didn't.

Her light blue eyes grew dark and her pupils dilated as she glared in to my eyes. "Is there a reason I should think any differently?" she spat at me.

My glare wavered for a moment when I felt her presence vanish. Her ki signiture was gone. Not fading, not bleak, just...gone. If I hadn't been standing only a few steps away from her I would have assumed the worse.

I quickly schooled my features before answering her.

I leaned in closer, wanting to know if the distance would help my senses. It didn't. "I guess not," I spitefully said, turning to make my exit when she spoke once again.

The anger and hurt in her words were almost visible that time. I wanted to turn and angrily proclaim that I had no such plans to do such a thing. But, as my record would show, my pride and anger towards her at the moment won out. "I'll be downstairs," I simply informed before leaving her alone.

Her ki signiture had returned a little while ago, and some of the tension left my body upon finding that she was indeed still at the compound.

But now I was just following her every movement, and my unconscious actions were putting me at odds with myself.

I was currently sensing that she seemed to be just walking around the estate. I looked over at the clock on the wall. It was almost two in the morning. What was she doing up wandering about at this hour? I internally asked.

I let out a frustrated grunt as I glared up from my position on the metal floor. Why was I even sparing her actions so much as a thought? As long as she stayed on the property I didn't even care what she did.

I hopped up from the floor and resumed my strenuous workout, determined to keep it up until my body gave way.

Hours later, I was woken by a gentle hand on my shoulder. My eyes fluttered open to find my mother standing in front of me with a worried expression. "What is it Mom?" I asked, drowsiness slurring my words.

"Sweetie, have you been out here all night?"

"Out here?" I said, very confused. I raised an eyebrow as I looked past Mom, and, sure enough, the first thing I saw was the beautiful mix of colors that made up the morning sky. I was now noticing the faint sounds of the city around me. I finally realized that I was on the balcony that was attached to my bedroom, curled up in one of the two wicker chairs that went along with the matching table that decorated the space. I was definitely outside. "I...um, I guess so."

The night had not been kind to me in my confused state.

After getting ready for bed around 10 o'clock that night, I had desperately tried to embrace slumber, but the unanswered questions swimming around in my head made me reluctant to do so. I thought that taking a walk around our home would help, but it only managed to make me even more restless.

The voices seemed to be everywhere I went, calling out like a needy child. And like a neglectful parent, I did my absolute best to ignore it. I put it off as being a result of my recent traumatic experience. I wound up on the balcony as a last resort to getting as far away from the voices without actually leaving the property.

"You actually slept out here like this?"

"Yeah, I think I did," I let out a yawn as I slowly straightened and stretched my aching limbs. The consequences of sleeping in the chair were to be felt throughout the rest of the day. "I couldn't sleep, so I came out here to try and relax a little. I guess I just fell asleep like this," I explained as much as I could. I conveniently left out my late night ruminations. "What time is it, anyway?"

Mom just looked down at her watch. "It's a quarter to ten," she read aloud. "You look exhausted. What time did you fall asleep last night?"

I placed my bare feet on the cold concrete floor, causing me to wrap my arms around myself to shut out the chilling bite of the morning air. "It was after three when I got back up. It must've been at least an hour after that when I finally came out here. So it had to have been around five when I fell asleep," I explains, standing up and walking inside.

"So you were up all night?" she asked, following closely behind me.

"Kinda," I shrugged. I walked over and took a seat on the bed. "To be honest with you, I've just had so much on my mind in the last twenty-four hours," I lied back on top of the comforter on my bed and stared at the ceiling. I sighed. "All of this nonsense with Vegeta. My accident that happened in the middle of a public park, and it being plastered all over the place the very next day. Trying to get the entire company ready for the winter season, with some less than cooperative people working under me. And, on top of everything else, I still have to find an event planner."

She came to stand in front of me. "I heard about the headline from Vanessa yesterday morning. What're you two thinking about doing?"

I sat back up with a sigh. "I told Van that I was going to pay a visit to Tatsuki Moon over at the W.C. Post. I actually should start getting ready to head over in a bit," I said, getting up and heading over to my closet.

"Tatsuki Moon?" she wondered aloud. "Wasn't she that gossip columnist..."

"Who used to stalk me in grad school?" I predicted, grabbing a few articles of clothing before stepping back out into the room. "Yeah, that's her. She got a job over at the Post about seven years back. I guess she's moved up from a third-rate snake to the head snake in charge," I flippantly said.

"Oh. Well, hopefully she'll be able to help out the situation and not turn it in to a complete scandal."

"I can only hope," I sighed. I rubbed at the side of my neck in frustration. "I'm gonna jump in the shower before I get my day started."

"Alright then," she replied.

I started towards the bathroom when she spoke again.

"Oh, and Sweetie?"

I looked back at her. "Yes, Mother?"

"There's someone here for you waiting downstairs," she said before making her towards the door.

"Who is it?"

Her voice sounded from the hall before closing the door behind herself. "You'll see," was her only reply.

I raised an eyebrow. I wasn't really expecting anyone that day, so I wondered who it could be before stripping down and stepping in to the shower.

Twenty minutes later and I was now wide awake and dressed to face the day ahead of me. I had chosen a dusty pink blouse that I had buttoned all the way up to my neck. The blouse had long sleeves to cover the bandage on my arm. I also chose a black pencil skirt along with a pair of black stilettos. My makeup was subtle with only a light brush around the eyes to conceal the dark rings that were forming.

I made my way through the hall as I pulled out my phone to check for any messages or unread emails. There were dozens. I sighed at how many things could pile up in just twenty four hours. The probability of me ever wanting to take a break during one of the company's busiest seasons was now a mere after-thought.

I gracefully descended the stairs, all the while still keeping my eyes on the phone. I walked in to the living room and was about to make a beeline for the kitchen because I hadn't eaten a single morsel since yesterday morning, but I was stopped by the sudden sound of a voice.

"You always have to keep a guy waiting, dontcha?"

I whipped around to find none other than my ex-boyfriend standing in the middle of the room with a bouquet of flowers.

"Yamcha?" I said, confused by his presence, but still walking in to his waiting arms. I put my phone away and wrapped my arms around his neck as he wraps his arms around my waist and lifted me off the floor. "What're you doing here? I wasn't expecting you until at least tomorrow,"

He placed me back on to my feet, but neither of us pulled away from the embrace. "My schedule cleared up earlier than expected, so I thought I'd give you the pleasure of seeing my handsome face on this lovely day," he said, jokingly, with a dimpled smile.

I raised a sarcastic eyebrow. "A cocky athlete at my doorstep, and he's bearing gifts?" I used a dramatically thick southern accent as I exaggeratively swooned. "The Gods must have surely answered my ever-yearning prayers,"

"Absolutely, my darlin'," he played along, with an equally thick accent. "And what a mighty fine athlete I am,"

I snorted and lightly smacked him on the chest. "Oh, shut it, you," this had always been easy for us; the playful banter. Unlike Vegeta, Yamcha was always a willing participant in some of my more... undignified behavioral tendencies. Ever since the early days of our on again, off again relationship, the adorably shy bandit slowly began showing that he could be just as much fun and just as silly as I was. But I understood early on that he was usually just trying to keep up with me. And I adored him for that.

"Hey, if you keep hitting me I'm not gonna give you the flowers I brought," he said, releasing me and holding the bouquet of purple Iris' behind his back.

I raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure if I even want those things. You know my favorites are the Gladiolus flower and Blue Squill. I also would have settled for a Blue Rose. So if you were planning on buttering me up you have greatly failed,"

"Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get those sort of flowers at the last minute? And I know you like purple Iris, too," he justified, handing me the flowers.

"True, on both accounts. But it's the thought that counts, so thank you," I smiled, graciously accepting the gift.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his gray slacks, that went well with his black dress shirt, that had the sleeves rolled up his forearm, and black designer shoes. "So, I can see that you're dressed to kill. You busy this morning?"

I went to set the bouquet down on the island in the kitchen, he followed closely behind. "Yeah, there are a few things that need to be taken care of by this evening," I leaned forward with my arms on the marble surface, staring at the man across from me.

"Oh, well, that's too bad,"

"Why?"

"I wanted to take you out to brunch, but I guess I'll just have to take a raincheck for now," he said with a shrug, his face fallen a bit.

I pursed my lips in thought for a moment. His behavior was beginning to bother me a bit, but I chose not to make a comment on the matter. "I might be able to meet you for a late lunch, if that's okay," I offered.

"You don't have to do that for me. I did just show up uninvited,"

"I'm not promising that I'll actually be there," I quickly shot down. "I will try, though, for you. We both know that you're nothing but a big baby, using that sad face to get your way," I lightly poked at the sight of his pout.

He smiled confidently at this. "You never could resist the brown eyes," he said, coming around the island to stand in front of me.

I stood unimpressed at his cocky remark. "If I can recall, which I very well can, there have been plenty of instances where I have easily resisted those brown eyes," I smirked, turning my back to him, about to leave the room.

"That's true, to a degree. But. You were always helpless whenever I did this,"

"Did wh-" I was preparing to turn back to him, when he suddenly grabbed me and began tickling at my sides, mercilessly.

I was trying to wiggle away from him, all the while laughing myself to tears. "St-stop! Please!" I managed to get out. I hadn't really felt at ease in the last couple of days, so it felt good to just laugh. I needed that.

I actually felt a shift in the atmosphere of the room and suddenly opened my eyes. My laughter instantly died down. "Yamcha, stop,"

There, standing a few feet away from us, was none other than Vegeta. His expression was blank as his eyes drifted down to where Yamcha's arms were still wrapped around my waist. Our eyes met a moment later.

"Please, don't allow me to stop your...fun," he practically spat, turning on his heels and going farther into the house.

"Hi, Vegeta, how have you..." Yamcha tried to say to him, slowly releasing me, but he was already gone. "...been," he finished. "What's wrong with him?"

I stared at the door the Saiyan just went through. I composed myself with a deep sigh. "I have to go. I'll call you later," I quickly said, leaving him behind in the kitchen.

So much for being at ease.