|marajahoobie and mellow beats
||[May. 2nd, 2013|07:26 am]
Disclaimer: I own nothing, as always.|
Summary: Vincent is a loner, a sinner, someone who just needs love. Then he meets a girl named Lucrecia, and his world automatically changes. The only thing standing in the way was her feelings, and his dangerous drug habit. Can someone save Vincent from himself? Takes place in highschool. Other AC characters featured, also.
Gotta know this one is gonna be a winner.
There he was, in the dark alleyway next to Midgar High, smoking a cigarette before the school bell rang. Groups of students were cluttered outside the door, hanging out with their own 'people'. 'Damn them, damn them all,' Vincent thought, taking another puff of smoke before dropping the cigarette and crushing it with his black boots that had little chains with skulls on them.
This is the kind of thing Vincent's inner demons like to read out loud while he's trying to aim for a critical shot. It's not the hysterical laughter from Hellmasker that he minds so much as the squeaky voice Chaos gives him.
It was called Midgar High, where all the kids in Midgar go.
Never mind the size of the city and the obvious class discrimination between the Upper and Lower Plates, everyone goes there. EVERYONE.
There were all different kinds of people; goths, loners, preps, nerds, jocks, and some kids were just normal. Vincent was getting sick of it all. He had one friend, though. His name was Cloud Strife. He fell under the angsty/loner category, but people still liked him.
Cloud: My mom thinks I'm cool!
Vincent: Your mom's dead.
Cloud: My mom thought I'm cool!
He had a girlfriend, Tifa Lockheart. She wasn't a prep, or bigheaded, she was just popular. Alot of people liked her because she was nice.
The fact that she has gazongas big enough to smother a mid-sized moose has nothing to do with it, I'm sure.
Cloud knew that Vincent did drugs, and tells him to stop, but Vincent doesn't. In his own mind, it helps him cope with things that go on. His dad died while on a mission for the Turks, and he never knew his mother. He lived alone, in a crap apartment. 'Gives me freedom,' he had once said to Cloud. But behind what people saw everyday; a scary, drug addict who wore black all the time and pushed people away; there was something he wanted more than anything.
A small slice of canon, perhaps?
Of course. Cue the world's tiniest synth violin.
Something he never had. Even though when he saw a couple kissing or hugging, he'd think, 'Screw em', he wanted it. He wanted love, because he never had it. Either he wanted it just to know what it feels like, or just to know that it exists. For a long time, he didn't believe in love. Thought it was a scam, something that was never real. But that didn't stop him from wanting it. But, he could never have it. He knew he could never get anyone who would like someone like him; a lone drug addict.
Aw, cheer up, Vincent. There'll never be a world without hookers!
Vincent shrugged. "I've gotta go to work, make up for last week." Vincent worked with cars, fixing them and stuff. (You get the idea.)
No, you get the thesaurus. I'm not getting paid to do your work, lady.
"What happened last week?"
"I wasn't there." He lifted his ankle up and put out the cigarette with the bottom of his boot. "Oh, that sucks," Cloud said. Vincent shrugged again. "I can make money," he said, walking out of the bathroom.
All of the boring conversations you never had in high school, now in living color!
"Damnit!" Vincent said, taking his hand away from the engine.
Chain-smoking, car-fixing, and now swearing? Awwww, I think someone misses his boyfriend.
He wiped his face off with a rag. It was a dirty job sometimes. Then, his boss came into the room. His name was Reeve Tuesti. "Valentine, I need to talk to you," he said, sitting at the desk.
Vincent: Is this about the impromptu installation of a muffler in your cat robot?
Reeve: No...no, I'm willing to give you that one.
Reeve sighed as though he had a headache. "What did we talk about not too long ago, Valentine?
Reeve: Vincent, we've been over this. You are not a sulky fourteen-year-old. The author just wants you to think you are. Pull yourself together, now, Cloud called and he wants his angst back.
When he got to his apartment, it was raining. Hard. Vincent's clothes were soaked, his hair was slick with water. He pushed the key into the door to his apartment, and opened it. It was dark. He flipped the switch for the light. The light was dim, and it blinked every once in a while like a dimestore lamp. He sighed and threw himself on the couch. He didn't have a TV. Standing up again, he walked up to his bedroom. Throwing his homework aside, he looked in the mirror. Some days he felt like punching it. 'I'll eventually break,' he thought to himself. He took off his wet shirt and threw it aside. He then opened the drawer where he kept his marijuana, and ice pipes.
No, Vincent, no! Not the wacky weed! Not the happy grass! Not the Reefer madness! You'll throw yourself out of a window! Don't waste your life like this! Noooooo!
...seriously, you're kidding, right?
Taking the marijuana, he lit himself a joint and smoked every bit of it while sitting against his headboard.
Then one eventually lead to another, then another. He had 4 of them. He was so dizzy he couldn't see what was in front of him. It was like his breakdown.
Strangely enough, though, he didn't care. He was really, really hungry, though.
Reaching into his nightstand drawer, he picked up one of the four pictures he had left of his dad. Studying it, he sighed. He looked over at the clock, and couldn't tell whether it said 11:30, or 1:00, or 12:57. His eyelids felt heavy as he looked as his father's Turk picture. He closed his eyes, laying the picture down. He dropped the marijuana joint, and it burned the picture of his father until the joint had no more fire to give.
Cue the synth violin again. The scene loses its poignancy when you realize that thoroughly-baked!Vincent has already eaten 4/5ths of his pillow.
Cid shook his head. "What's wrong with you? Shouldn't you be in your classroom?" He always had a toothpick in his mouth, and spoke with a funny country accent... If there even is a country side to Midgar..
Oh, yes, the beautiful expanse of the Sector 3 titanium fields, where the robot cows roam free.
Later that day, at lunch time, Cloud came over to Vincent. He always sat outside on the steps to eat his lunch. "Hey Vincent. Didn't see you this morning. Where were you?" Cloud asked, sitting next to him. "I was late. I had a bad night," he said, taking a long sip of his soda. Cloud was suprised that it wasn't alcohol today.
Cloud: Oh yeah, it's Whiskey Wednesday and Fishsticks Friday! Man, I've gotta get a cafeteria schedule.
"Ah!" he said, pulling the check out of the filing cabinet and handing it to Vincent. He opened the envelope, wondering how many more bags of marijuana he could get with his profits. When he saw the amount, he gasped. "What the hell?" Vincent said, turning to Reeve. "What?" Reeve asked.
"My total dropped over 20 percent even AFTER Uncle Rufus was paid!" he said, pointing it out on the check. (Get it? Uncle Rufus instead of Uncle Sam who pulls taxes, and stuff like that out your paychecks? Okay...)
Kinda sad to watch a weak joke getting weaker before your very eyes. It's like an episode of House, but without all that hilarious human suffering to lighten the blow.
At 7:00, Vincent started walking to Reno's house. When he got there, it was already crowded. He walked into the house, it was big. There was chaos everywhere.
Chaos is the life of every party! He's also the death of it, usually. Nothing sobers a bunch of happy drunks up like finding a slightly-chewed scalp at the bottom of the punch bowl.
"Dude, be careful with the drinks, alright?" Cloud said. Vincent shrugged. "What's the worst that could happen?"
Cloud: Are you kidding? You could end up pregnant!
Cloud: You do realize we're in a fanfic, right?
Cloud: Okay, you could...you could wake up in bed with Cid. And Reeve.
Vincent: Yes, about that...
It was now 10:00, and Vincent was getting dizzy. He just shook it off. He had bumped into Cid, Barret, Reno, alot of people.
Ladies and gentlemen, Vincent Valentine's impersonation of a pinball. Give him a big hand!
Reaching the kitchen table, he steadied himself on his unsteady legs over the tray of shots. Taking one, he took it down. Taking another, he took that down. Taking another one, he took that down too. Taking yet another one, he engulfed that one too. One after another after another.
Yes okay WE GET THE IDEA.
Vincent was sitting at his desk, his head down. He was still feeling woozy from last night. Cloud had took him home, and Vincent spent half the night throwing up in the toilet. "You almost fucking passed out," Cloud had told him before they went to school.
"Almost"? Jeez, Vincent really WAS a Turk, wasn't he?
"We have a new student in this class. Everyone please welcome Lucrecia Crescent," said Pro. Tseng. Vincent looked towards the doorway, his attention fully adjusted towards seeing this new girl. And when he did, something seemed to implode inside him.
Or maybe not. Call 911, this man's liver has gone supernova!
Her deep brown eyes seemed beautiful, but a little lost.
Tseng: Miss Crescent, please take your seat.
Tseng: Miss Crescent?
Tseng: We've got to stop accepting exchange students from Hojo University.*
Vincent hardly ate at lunch. When it was time for lunch, he just went into the bathroom to smoke and think. Pulling out a cigarette, he sighed. He knew that smoking was one of the things keeping him away from relationships with others. But he did it anyway. He lit it, and stood against the wall. The bathroom filled with smoke.
Belatedly, he realized that he'd stuffed the match into his pocket before putting it out.
"We have a new student. Not only do we have Lucrecia Crescent, but we have another one. His name is Hojo. Please welcome him," said Prof. Elena.
Cloud: Hojo? Just Hojo?
Elena: Just Hojo. We think he ate his parents before they could sign his birth certificate. Keep smiling.
Vincent glared at Hojo as he took a seat right next to him. He saw something 'bastardlike' about him. (I hate Hojo more than anything)
What, even more than ebola? 'Cause I bet he could have that arranged, if you catch my drift. Keep smiling. Keep smiling.
"Vincent," Professor Elena said. Vincent sighed and turned. "Yeah?" he said. She motioned for him to come over. Vincent walked over to the front of her desk.
"Lately you've been doing bad with your work.
Vincent: To be fair, I have you as an English teacher.
Elena: I doesn't get it.
"Hasn't anyone told you people? I HAVE no parents. I'm living on my own, working as a mechanic to make a living, okay?"
"Oh... I'm sorry, Vincent." Vincent shook his head. It seemed like no one cared. Prof. Elena sighed. "Well, we've got to something about your work. You've gotta clean up your act, and work harder," she said. Vincent threw his arms to the side. "What ACT! My life isn't a act. Look, you teachers don't know anything about my home life," he said. He was sad. No one understood.
And that synth violin was really starting to get on his nerves.
"Lucrecia, Lucrecia Crescent," he said. He liked saying her name.
Hee hee, yeah, it is kinda fun. Lucrecia. Lucrecia Lucrecia Lucrecia. "Z" sounds are love. Lucrecia.
It was Friday, the last day of the week.
Vincent's too cool for Saturdays.
He walked alone to school. It was a cloudy day, and the sky was grey.
He'd be safe and warm if he was in L.A. California dreamin', on such a winter's day.
He had run out of marijuana, and didn't have enough money to buy more from his 'drug dealers'.
By 'drug dealers', the author actually means 'sock puppets'.
Then, Yuffie came over to him. 'Ring, bell, ring!' Vincent thought to himself as she neared.
Cloud: Can I ring the little bells too?
Yuffie: Of course! Ring, little bells, ring, ring!
Cloud: This is fun!
Vincent: It's you two, isn't it? You're the reason I'm out of drugs.
Vincent was dreading science, when he had to sit next to that new guy, Hojo.
It was hard to dissect a frog when he was standing behind with a scalpel, making little stabbing motions and casting a calculating gaze over Vincent's left arm.
"Oh, actually it's my boyfriend's car... He didn't feel like taking it here, so I had to. B-But it's okay, I don't mind.."
'Hojo!' Vincent thought to himself, filling with rage. 'So he made her come here?'
Vincent: He's making you run errands?! The next thing you know, he'll have you knocked up with a crazy alien baby!
Lucrecia: Um, is there a reason you sound so sure of yourself?
Vincent: I think there was a few seconds ago, but I forgot. Never mind. When was the last time you had your tires rotated?
"Okay, I'm gonna have to get under the car," he said. He went over and grabbed the things that he would need. Lucrecia sat patiently on the bench. As he went under the car, she spoke. "So, you work here?" she asked.
"Yeah. I need to make money. I live by myself."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that... You live in Kalm?"
"Oh, I apologize for asking all these questions, I'm just.."
It seems like an ordinary fic conversation until you remember that she is, essentially, holding it with his crotch.
She smiled and walked away. As soon as he knew she was gone, he sighed and slid down to the ground. "My god.." he said. He had just helped Lucrecia, the girl he wanted to talk to for a long time!
This one's a two-pager for the LJ, for sure!
"I'll see you around, then," she said, walking to the car. He nodded again. But then, as she was walking to the door, he saw something. There was a scratch on the back of her neck, accompanied by a small bruise. 'No, it can't be... Get that off your mind, Vincent,' he thought to himself.
That had less to do with concerns over abuse and more to do with sudden fantasies involving leather and a pair of clip-on cat ears, didn't it?
P.S: Don't mind my angst. Parents. Separation. Guess this is my one reason I keep going strong. (Smiles)
It's times like these that I wish I could whistle innocently.
P.P.S: Before I forget... (Takes Sephiroth and slaps him across the face) You'll understand.
He won't. Better duck that meteor.
He knew that if Lucrecia ever saw him doing this, she'd never want anything to do with him.
'Who could want a druggie?'
Because God knows Lucrecia doesn't have any emotional baggage of her own. Lawks, no.
Sephiroth held the money, not looking at Vincent. "Look, if you can just give me the drugs, and I'll pay you back. I swear," Vincent continued.
Sephiroth looked at Vincent. "200 dollars, Vincent?" he said.
Sephiroth: We use gil here, Vincent. Gold. Metal. Useful substances. These are little pieces of paper. You may be proving my belief that this stuff doesn't kill brain cells wrong.
Vincent slid to the ground, gasping for air. Sephiroth towered over him.
Then Vincent stood up, and Sephiroth tried briefly to tower over him with his one-inch advantage before giving up and sulking in a corner.
The moon shined it's white light into the dark abyss that was Vincent's room.
What's that melodious dingling noise from the street? Why, it's the Oxymoron Man, here with his delightful goodies for all the girls and boys! I'll have a jumbo shrimp, sir!
Darkness was everywhere, in the shadows, on the walls, in empty shell that was Vincent's heart. He sighed, rubbing his head. He needed a joint. He needed something. Something to hurt him, maybe make him numb, to take away the pain that wouldn't go away. It still lingered, no matter what weapon he chose to fight with.
He had even called an exterminator in one desperate moment, but they laughed off the idea of a tiny musical instrument stalking him. Bastards. They didn't care. No one cared.
He opened his drawer, and pulled out the gun that awaited. Black, big, just what he needed to end it. Or at least scare him back into reality. Holding it in his hands, he let random thoughts race through his mind. He thought about school. He thought about Cloud. He thought about the drugs, the booze, the destruction... He thought about his father.
He thought about Cid.
He thought about mako.
He thought about doom.
He thought about tacos.
He thought about Ifrit.
He thought about Shiva.
He thought about Reno and his vodka-filled liver.
He thought about chocobos.
He thought about mogs.
He thought about zoloms.
He thought about frogs.
He thought about coffins, so snuggly inside.
Oh, the thinks he could think, if only he tried!
He looked at the gun, then held it to his head.
"It only takes one, Valentine," he said to himself.
If you do it right, that is. Put the danged thing in your mouth, Vince, the last thing you want is to end up like Arseface.
'...and I'm Lucrecia.' Those words he remembered seemed to stop the world around him. He could still hear the angel's voice.
Vincent: ~Lucrecia! Lucrecia! I just met a girl named Lu-creee-ciaaaa!
Lucrecia: Um, actually, it's pronounced--
Vincent: ~And suddenly the NAME will never be the SAME to MEEEEE...
Delcat: Y'know, it always kinda bugs me when FFVII characters use drugs from our world. What about the Hypers and Tranquilizers?
Delcat: "Cid, that's been at the back of the fridge for the past three years."
*You didn't seriously think the "damaged goods" jokes were gonna stop after Dirge of Cerberus, did you?