DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine, they belong to Squaresoft (I can only wish they were mine) I ain't makin' one red cent, or any other cent of any color, I'm as poor as a church mouse (hey who came up with that sayin' anyways…I mean how can you tell if a mouse that lives in a church is as poor as say a mouse livin' in an apartment building?) Please don't sue, cuz all ya'll get is my kids' broken toys and dirty laundry, and I do mean clothes, this ain't the mafia!!! Ya I know my grammar needs major help…if some English instructor was reading this, they would probably faint dead away…please excuse my lapses in grammar. *grin*

Warnings: : Language, sexual content, and anything else my wicked little mind can think up.


Chapter 2

By LaughingWolfGirl

Walking the back streets of Balamb, in what was considered the bad part of town, Seifer Almasy, Enemy of the world, the Former Sorceress's Knight, walked alone. Neither looking left nor right, just straight ahead, he had no fear here, no one ever bothered him here. Here was where the likes of him belonged and it seemed the other denizens of this hell recognized one of their own. The rain came down in torrents, the wind howling its rage for all to hear, he walked against the wind and rain feeling it lash his body like a thousand small whips, the wind fighting him for dominance to blow him away. He plowed on, soaked to the bone, fighting every step of the way. Always fighting, he was tired of fighting, he wanted to be left in peace, but it seemed even the elements were against him. He walked on, nearing his bug infested motel room, wanting nothing more than to fall to his lumpy mattress and sleep, and dream himself away from reality.

Turning the key in the lock he was nearly in when he heard a high screech yelling his name. There to his left was the motel manager, a sly, creepy individual of non-descript coloring, his face so plain, one look and it was forgotten, everything about the man was plain, except for his voice; which grated, high-pitched, better fitted to a fishmongers wife. The man never spoke moderately; no it was always loud and high.

"Almasy, ya need to pay your rent, it's late, ya don't pay within the next two days, you're out on your ass!"

"Ya I know, you'll get your money, don't worry about it." He said tiredly.

"Well ya know if you like we can take it out in trade," the manager said slyly as he got close to Seifer, "I like ya boy, we could work somefin' out."

Seifer took a step back and for a moment pain and fear showed, but his old arrogance came to his rescue and he sneered down to the manager.

"Hell no we can't work something out, like I would ever give someone like you the time of day!" His left eyebrow had risen as he spoke, giving him an even greater arrogant look. "Get the hell away from me, you asshole, you disgust me!"

"Well Mr. High and Mighty, we'll see how you sing, when you're out on your ass with no place to live, and your livin' in a cardboard box under the bridge! Just remember, I woulda taken care of ya! And the rent is due tomorrow by 4:00 pm, if ya don't have the money to me by 4:01 your outta here!" And with that he turned and walked back to his office. Seifer turned and walked into his room, dropping his arrogance like the mask it had become, the fear and pain rushing to the fore.

/What am I gonna do, I don't have the money, Hyne; I don't even have a job. /

He walked into the bathroom, and looked at himself in the dirty, broken mirror, seeing a shell of what he was, soaked to the bone, his skin tone sallow, his eyes slightly sunken in from lack of sleep, he had lost weight, weight that he needed, from not enough food. Over all he looked pathetic. Maybe he should take up the manager's offer, at least then he would eat and get a place to sleep, Oh dear Hyne, is this what he was reduced to, thinking of allowing that disgusting man to use him for sex, while he closed his eyes and pretended to be somewhere else.

As his thoughts rumbled on, he found that while he was thinking, he had pulled a razor out of the cabinet and had taken the blade out, was just holding it between his fingers. He dropped the razor in the sink, afraid, not of death, but the idea of killing himself, was this the way he wanted to finish his life, in some cheap motel bathroom, where no one knew him, the real him? No, that wasn't who he was, he wouldn't take the easy way out, no matter what, or how low he had sunk. He would find a way….some way other than suicide or selling his body.

He walked over to his cot, undressed, dropped his soaked clothes in a pile, not caring that they were wet and climbed under the thin thread-bare covers, setting his internal clock to wake at dawn, determined to do better for himself tomorrow. He was soon asleep.

Irvine had made sure that Selphie was busy and made his way to his room, locking it as soon as he entered. He walked into his bathroom and decided he would take a shower and just go to bed. And if Selphie came around he would ignore her, pretend that he wasn't here. As he stood under the hot water, spraying down his body, he began to feel himself relax, going over his thoughts from earlier. Sweet Hyne, he wasn't asking for much, just someone for him, who would accept him the way he was, love him for himself.

At the rate he was going, everyone at the Garden would be paired up except for him and maybe Rinoa, but he didn't see her being single for long. Rinoa was like a cat, in his opinion, and would land on her feet and have another guy to drag around. Where as he was being quite picky, maybe that was his problem, he was too damn picky. But if he wasn't he would get stuck with some loser, who wouldn't appreciate him.

/Oh what the hell, I need to quit dwellin' on this… when the right person comes around I'll know…I hope/

He got out of the shower and took his favorite green towel and started drying himself, keeping an ear out to make sure no one knocked on his door. So far, so good, he hadn't heard anything, he then walked over to his drawers and started to rummage through his underwear, deciding to forgo them and sleep in the buff, he had made sure to spoil himself on his last payday and had bought himself some emerald green silk sheets, and wanted to be hedonistic and enjoy them against his body. As he lay there, he figured he didn't want to run into the others tomorrow so he would go to town and maybe do some more shopping, he needed some more cologne, and so he would go and stock up. He had nothing better to do tomorrow and it would give him the perfect excuse to be away from Garden.

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