Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or anything associated with it.

Pairing: 1x2 later onÖ
Warnings: language, POV, AU

Dedication: To Lewis, for just being generally wonderful and having the good looks of Brandon Boyd.

In This Diary
Day 2
by Jade Black

Sunday 27th July 2003

I just got in- and thought Iíd write in another update. Iíve had a great day- weíve marked out our spot on the beach- in this really secluded little bit near the pier where you can see everything thatís going on. Itís a plus as well that itís not too far to bike or walk down there, and since itís near the pier itís not a long walk to go up and get fish and chips or to the snack-bar. Itís a rockiní spot.

Me, Solo, Zechs and Dorothy have been down there all day- trying to find something to get up to. The only thing I noticed that was possibly interesting was the hot guy serving the ice creams at the snack bar with no shirt on. I may pursue that matterÖ

We went for a swim and all that- and had a water fight- and I ended up walking home in a dripping wet pair of jeans that were so stiff I could hardly walk- and when I did it looked like Iíd just had something large shoved up my ass (1)- which is exactly what summer is all about- of course! I was quite happy with myself, if in a complete state of fashion emergency, when I turned the corner to go down my road. Iím about to open the gate on my parents house when this guy in a flash silver BMW convertible roars round the corner and stops right across the street. He tries to park between two cars- a space he could never make Ėone handed, while talking to someone on his tiny cell phone at the same time. I stood in the garden for a while, pretending to do something as I watched him. After a couple of minutes, he pulls the car up in a position where the front sticks right out into the road- and gets out. But itís not like he cares that someoneís probably going to come past and smash into his car, because heís got enough money to repair it ten times over, and it just gives him another chance to boast to his Ďfriendsí about it.

Then, he leaps out of the car, opens up to boot and yanks out a bouquet of orchids, a classy sports bag and a collection of posh carrier bags- you know, the type that fold at the base and have string or tape handles that never break, no matter how much the bag weighs- with the names of the shops where they came from printed across the sides in fancy lettering. He takes them all out, slams the boot shut and swaggers up the drive of one of the houses across the street in his posh suit. A couple of the bags looked like they were full of take-out food from one of the posh delis in the middle of town- and I could just see his evening spreading out before him. He was probably going to go in and eat however many calories he wanted with this fit bird that he had probably bought the flowers for- and then work off all the extra fat by shagging her three times over before 10 oíclock. And here I was about to go spend my night by myself, perhaps with the welcoming company of my hand and my annoying little brother.

I finally leave my front garden and walk in to find my Mum sitting on the sofa with a glass of something or other that I would bet is alcoholic in her hand, dazedly watching the television and ignoring me completely as the pictures flash across the screen. I said hi, but she still ignores me- so I just went upstairs, to find Jasonís door closed and death metal blasting out from behind it. I decided it was probably good for my health not to interrupt him. I continued down the hallway to the bathroom- looking myself in the mirror for a while before putting on the shower, still thinking about the posh-nosh guy across the street. It seemed like the opposite side was an alternate universe- and there was no right way in hell that we could both be living on the same road. I realised I didnít actually know who lived in the house there, and really as a neighbour I should have at least seen someone there.

But thereís him on one side with his convertible, flashy bags and cell phone- and thereís me getting ready to have a too-cold shower, trying to wriggle out of faded and ripped jeans that were a few sizes too small for me- and attempting to get remaining sand out of all the crevices. It just made me want to nuke his car. Perhaps that would teach him? Perhaps notÖ

Sunday 27th July 2003

Song of the day: Pink Floyd- The Wall (in horrible attempt at being sarcastic)
Interesting notes: Apparently theyíre enrolling for the Army Cadets in a couple of weeks- but Iím two months too young to join.
// Teachers *donít* leave those kids alone //

Another day wasted indoors. I spent a couple of hours surfing the net, and I found this really cool site full of trippy pictures- that isnít really my kind of thing, but I had nothing better to do. At breakfast my mum started moaning at me and telling me I had to get out and go see some friends. ďWhy donít you ring Trowa or someone, Heero? He could come over here and have tea if he wants?Ē Like thatís going to happen. I wouldnít bring anyone at school within a mile of my family. Trowaís kind of a friend but itís not like weíre Ďbest-budsí like my mother thinks we probably are. I have a couple of classes with him and weíve worked together on a couple of projects for which you had to be in pairs or youíd fail your task- nothing more. To avoid further conversation on the subject, I had lunch up in my room while listening to Pink Floyd.

Iím bidding for a book on Ebay called ĎRebels and devils: The psychology of liberationí. I think a decent book for the summer could certainly be a worthwhile investment. Itís supposed to be a collection of essays from some Ďamazing new thinkersí. It might be an interesting idea to keep open-minded. It comes up to finish the auction in about 48 hours, so itís probably going to go up in price quite a bitÖ but itís probably a way of keeping me occupied.

As I said, another day wasted- and I donít know what Iím going to do tomorrow. Most likely exactly the same. Iím sure that by the end of the summer my mind will have baked and wilted into oblivion- and Iíll become something akin to a vegetable for my parents to find lying in a puddle in my room at some point near the beginning of school. Lots to look forward to.

(1) *cough*

on to day 3

back to fiction

back to jade black fiction

back home