What the Camera Doesn't See
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Title: What the Camera Doesn't See: Part: IV
Author: Genji
Disclaimer & Warnings: See Part I
Denotations:
'thoughts'
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Written story
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{Written Words}
"Dialog"
*emphasis* think italics
~*~ Change of scene
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One's home is both paradise and hell.
-- Rumanian Proverb
~*~
"Yo, Q-man! There's something dreadfully wrong with this picture!" Duo spoke cheerfully, as he gazed through the rectangle he had created with his thumbs and forefingers. His violet eyes were focused on a vase, which had recently been placed on the counter.
"No, there's nothing wrong," Quatre said defiantly, touching the green stalks gently.
"Who're they from? The Lotus-Eaters (1)? That would explain why you forgot your lines today."
"A fan-- a kid most likely. Probably didn't have enough money to get fresh ones, and so he scrounged them up from the garbage. I think it's the gesture that counts. Who else would send such things?"
"Yee-haw! We have a new type of audience. I thought Gundam Wing was only watched by violent guys and hormone crazed girls. It's a relief to know that someone semi-sane is watching us."
"Yee-haw?" Heero asked dryly from the corner where he was studying his lines.
"Yee-haw," Duo repeated with determination. He was about to add more when Relena entered with the day's mail.
"OUT!" Wufei said, struggling into a shirt. He had recently gotten back from a 5-kilometer run, and was still trying to cool off in the unairconditioned environment.
Relena smiled sweetly, feigning to be innocent before remarking, "It's not like I haven't seen anything like that before. I'm no idiot. I was cursed with two brothers and dated Alec. You remember him, don't you? Tall. Dark. Handsome. Could kick all your butts on the basketball court. Trust me, you don't have anything *special*."
Wufei glowered at her.
Relena smirked, knowing she had won the battle. She flipped a rubber-banded stack at the American who tossed the papers up into the air repeatedly. "I could beat Alec anytime, any place. Of course I didn't wanna humiliate him, him being the basketball captain an' stuff. By the way, Babe, what ever happened to Murasaki? She seems to have been avoiding me for the longest of times."
"First and foremost, I am not your 'babe,' so dream on, lover boy. Second, Ono Murasaki is not interested in you now. Not that that means that she was interested in you before, but now it's a definite no. You shouldn't've been so immature as to have been running around with a water gun."
"How was I supposed to know she was wearing a white shirt? She walked into my line of fire."
"I think she was clued in by the fact that you were stalking her."
"Aw, come on! Where's the thrill of the chase when there's no one to chase? You gotta stalk your unsuspecting prey and then, when you're close enough, you pounce-"
"Shouting, 'Shinigami claims another'? You really don't know diddly shit about getting a girl's attention, do you? No wonder you were dateless all through high school."
"Hey, that was by choice! Plus, it didn't help that what's-her-face was always bugging me about going out with her. She wasn't God's gift to the eyes."
"I always knew you were shallow."
"Speak for yourself, Miss I-dated-Mr.-Hotshot-Basketball-Captain-for-two-years-running-only-because-he-had-a-cool-ride."
Relena turned red, and threw the remaining mail on the counter next to the petal-plucked stalks.
"Nice going, Duo," Heero said dryly. He got up and paced to the counter, where the envelopes lay scattered about. By means of his right index finger he spread the white rectangles out further, making it possible to see the names of all the addressees. Delicately, he picked up the sole letter meant for him and returned to his corner. The youth gingerly opened the white pouch and slipped out the contents, holding it at arms length, as it were a letter bomb. He turned red and quickly applied himself to the task of shredding it into small pieces.
Trowa helped himself to his mail and tossed Quatre his. Wufei got one, which happened to be another rant about his character's views on women. Growling, the Chinese teen prepared to launch himself into a long drawn-out rant when Quatre stopped him by speaking first, "This is the second one this week."
A typed sheet was in his hand. "What is this, 'Pharaoh, let my people go'? I don't own anybody, so how can I let them go? I don't understand. How can I be shown the truth with a river of blood? First of all, that doesn't exist, and second, what truth?" Quatre paused for a minute, and then continued, after dredging up some forgotten knowledge. A glimmer of recognition flashed in his eye as he looked up to the rest of the lounging actors. "It's from Exodus, the book that entails the Hebrews' wandering in the desert for forty years after they fled Egypt. I guess some religious fanatic is protesting the show."
"Yup. Should we chalk it up to a violent boy, hormone crazed girl, or the single-sane child that sent you the stalks?"
Heero remarked knowledgeably, "Just ignore it. Marriage proposals and death threats should just be tossed out-"
"Like the garbage they are," Duo concluded.
Trowa shrugged and followed their advice, tossing a letter he had just received into the trash. It fluttered and lay open for all to read. But no one bothered to.
{Israelite of Yore:
No longer must you worship a golden idol, for Moses has returned unto you to lead you into Canaan...}
~*~
Quatre closed his eyes and pushed against the door. Here was his corner of the world where he could unwind and not have to worry about public image. If a man's house was his castle, this apartment was Quatre's solace.
Riyad twined himself about his master's legs, meowing furiously. Quatre looked down and opened his eyes. The cat seemed ruffled, but nothing else. He bent down and scooped the feline up. As Quatre raised his eyes, he saw the walls of his apartment; the normally faded yellow walls had taken on a pure white hue. He heard the rustling of paper and noticed the writing on the walls. The Arab approached the buttresses of his private niche, only to see his security fail in protecting him from the outside evils. Thousands of sheets of paper created a wallpaper of accusations.
{SLUT}
{WHORE}
{HARLOT}
{HUSSY}
Quatre tore them down, biting his tongue, trying not to swear, trying not to cry, trying not to think.
{JEZEBEL}
{WANTON}
{SLATTERN}
He whirled about the apartment with the energy of a madman, ripping the paper from his once fortified defenses against the tribulations of the outside world.
'Why me? What have I done to deserve this? How'd they get here? Who should I tell? Should I tell anyone? Don't cry. It's just words, they're not permanent. They're just words on paper, it's nothing to be upset about. But I am upset; I shouldn't have to deal with this. If I say anything the papers will be all over it, and father'll force me back with him. There goes my freedom. Just clean this up and it will all go away,' Quatre thought savagely, as he tore down the accusations.
{FLOOZY}
{WENCH}
{TRAMP}
Quatre dumped all the evidence in the sink and lit a match. With determined finality he let it fall.
'Let this be the end of it. Please, Allah, let it end in this fire.'
The papers burst into flame and within minutes were reduced to a soft, chalky material that turned to dust when touched. The Arab watched with little satisfaction as the words turned into nothing but gray ash. When the blaze had died down the slight teen scooped the remains out of the metal sink and into the garbage. He scrubbed his hands thoroughly under hot water afterwards.
(1)Ack! I'm referring to _The Odyssey_ again. I thought I had quit that habit. Anyhow, the Lotus-Eaters were a friendly people, but those who ate the plant lost all memory of home and duty. *hugs cliff notes* I misplaced the actual book.
© 2001 by Genji. Please do not remove without permission.
