Writing As Luck Would Have It [M-VSL]

[Shinmaru]

I honestly have no clue whether there will be anything even vaguely sexual in this story at all, but it doesn't hurt to have my bases covered lol.

Anyway, this is the first part of a rather long story that I've been thinking about and tweaking for a few months now. The first time I wrote it, the first chapter didn't come out the way I wanted it to at all, which sort of discouraged me. But now I've come back to it, and I'm satisfied with what I have right now, though there's always room for improvement.

So, please read, comment, and critique if you have the time. It's a bit long, so I don't expect everyone to have the time, but hopefully one or two people will lol. :)

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[b][center]Raining On My Parade[/b][/center]

A lean black car drove down an old, decrepit road. Rain was pouring everywhere, and clouds obstructed the view of the sky and stars above. A smooth, deep voice spoke over all of the chaos.

?Submitted for your approval is the story of one and the story of many,? the voice said. ?[size=1]What do you mean I can?t do that introduction? We won?t get sued, damn you! We have the best lawyers in the state! Shut up, we?re running live![/size] Here lives a young man named Vincent, who, in the space of a few scant months, will change the world. [size=1]He doesn?t live there? You told me he was already living there! Oh, don?t give me that crap, it says so right in these notes?oh, shit.[/size] Erm, this man, [size=1]of course I?m going to mention the girl, jackass,[/size] this man will meet a woman, an equally important woman, an adversary. Their paths will cross many times, and yet they will not walk the exact same path until they meet at the end. Such is the way things are in?[size=1]ow, ow, stop hitting me, I just got carried away, I wasn?t really going to say it! No, I didn?t give too much of the story away, I was just creating drama! Have you ever heard of drama? Have you? Ksjfksarwjkerjksfnvkzjl!1!!1!1[/size]?

The radio buzzed and whined, white noise pervading the car. Vincent put a hand to his ear, and steered with his other hand. He moved his hand over to the dial of the radio and twisted it furiously. The same static noise emitted from all of the radio stations. He switched off the radio in disgust.

?Damn radio,? Vincent muttered. ?Something must be interfering with the signal?not that I was really listening to it.? Vincent switched on his windshield wipers, but they helped only momentarily. The rain was coming down in bulbous, pounding drops. The headlights of Vincent?s car lit up a small area of space in front of his car, so he could only get a cursory glance at what was in front of him.

?God,? Vincent said. ?This storm is terrible. If I?d known it?d be this bad when I tried to come out here, I would?ve stayed in the motel a couple of nights longer.? Vincent ran a pale hand through his short, black hair. It was a nervous habit he?d picked up during his college days, studying journalism. He glanced over at his side mirrors. He could barely make out his emerald green eyes in the reflection, and if there was a car driving up behind him, he couldn?t see it. He coughed a bit, and shivered. He?d turned the heater on about a half hour ago, but the heater had given out on him.

?This is so stupid!? Vincent yelled, ramming a fist into his car horn. The horn honked loudly. ?I don?t even know where I am right now. How'd I end up here, anyway??

[i]Vincent walked slowly through the office. It wasn?t often that his boss called on him directly. Vincent was rather low on the totem pole, so he hadn?t gotten any truly remarkable stories to research and report on yet. He didn?t think that his performance warranted him moving up the ladder, so he was very wary about the meeting that he was about to have. Vincent moved up to the door that said ?Editor in Chief? on it in bold, black letters. He rapped on it lightly.

?Come in,? a gruff voice said. Vincent gulped and opened the door. It squeaked loudly, and sent a shiver down Vincent?s spine. He stepped cautiously through the doorway, and closed the door behind him. The door slammed hard against the wall, and Vincent jumped slightly.

?Uh, you wanted to see me, sir?? Vincent asked.

?What?? the editor asked. He peered up at Vincent through a pair of square-rimmed spectacles. ?Oh, yeah, it?s you.?

?Are we going to discuss my promotion?? Vincent smiled hopefully. The editor smiled back at him for a split second, and then he frowned.

?No,? the editor said. ?We?re not going to discuss your promotion.?

?Why not?? Vincent asked.

?Because you?re not getting a promotion!? The editor slammed his fist into the table. Pain shot through his arm, but his gaze did not falter. He continued glaring at Vincent.

?Oh,? Vincent said. ?Damn.?

?In fact,? the editor continued. ?You?re hanging on a string, Vincent. A promotion for you is the last thing on my mind right now. It wasn?t even on my mind until you mentioned it. And now it?s out of my mind.?

?Um,? Vincent stammered, shifting around nervously. ?Did you see the story that I submitted yesterday??

?Yes, I did,? the editor replied.

?Oh, good,? Vincent said.

?That?s part of the reason why I called you in here,? the editor said.

?Oh?good?? Vincent asked.

?No,? the editor replied. ?Not good.? He paused a moment. He leaned forward a bit, opened the desk drawer in front of him, and sifted through the papers inside. He pulled out a bunch of papers that were stapled together and threw them onto the table.

?Is that my story?? Vincent asked.

?It sure is,? the editor replied.

?Why isn?t it in the newspaper?? Vincent questioned.

?Because,? the editor said. ?It?s a story about[/i] squirrel muggings. [i]Squirrels do not mug people!?

??they?ve been known to,? Vincent said, glancing quickly from side to side.

?No, they haven?t,? the editor growled. ?Vincent, please tell me?why would you give me a piece of rubbish like that??

?I thought it would make for a good human-interest story,? Vincent replied.

?What human would possibly be interested in that?? the editor asked.

?Lots of humans!? Vincent said. ?I mean, think about it, squirrel muggings?that?s bizarre, eye-catching stuff right there! A person will walk by the paper stand, see a headline about squirrel muggings, and bam! They?ll buy the paper because they?re so interested in it.?

?Look, Vincent,? the editor sighed. ?You?re a good kid, if a tad delusional. But let?s be honest here: You?ve been here for almost a year now, and you?ve not come up with a worthwhile story. I?m not looking for some Pulitzer prize winning crap about squirrel muggings or whatever the hell else you?re trying to push on me - I just want good, solid news. That?s all! And you?re not giving it to me!?

?I?m sorry, sir,? Vincent said, falling onto his knees. ?Just give me another chance. I swear I?ll come up with something good, something fresh, something newsworthy!?

?You?ve had enough chances, Vincent,? the editor said, turning his chair around. ?You?re fired. Go latch on to another newspaper. I can?t afford to coddle you all of the time and give you second chances that you don?t deserve.?

?But?!? Vincent squeaked.

?Just go,? the editor spat. ?Get out of here! I don?t want to see your face ever again.? Vincent got onto his feet and stood perfectly still for a few moments. His lower lip quivered a bit, and then he sighed, turned around and walked out of the room slowly.[/i]

?Oh yeah,? Vincent said. He continued driving his car, taking arbitrary lefts and rights along the road. Soon, he pulled into a city and began glancing nervously along the side of the road. Lightning started to flash off in the distance, and between flashes of light, Vincent could make out the shapes of people walking along the road. He looked down at his radio to see what time it was.

?Getting close to midnight,? Vincent muttered. ?Man, this neighborhood?s looking pretty spooky. A guy like me won?t be too safe around here once it gets too late.? Vincent then passed a sign planted into the side of the road. It read: [i]Now Leaving South Haven[/i].

?Oh,? Vincent said. ?I guess that takes care of that.? He continued on the path, which was getting bumpier as he went along. The torrential downpour coming onto Vincent?s windshield overwhelmed his wipers. More water was falling from the sky than the wipers could actually flick off of the window. The cold air outside began seeping into Vincent?s car, and fogged up the lower half of his windshield. Vincent craned his neck, but was too short to see over the thick film of air covering the windshield.

?I need to stop soon,? Vincent mumbled. ?I can?t keep driving in these conditions. But where am I going to stop? I?ll be soaked, and these are my only clean clothes.? Vincent looked up, and saw a shape blur past his right window.

?What did that say?? Vincent asked himself. He then saw another sign come up along the road, and barely had enough time to read it. The sign said:

[center][i]For Those Who Didn?t See The Other Sign
You Are Now Entering North Weston[/center][/i]

?North Weston, huh?? Vincent whistled. ?Strange town name. Wonder if they--? Before he could finish his thought, Vincent looked back out onto the road. He barely had enough time to register a squirrel running out onto the middle of the street. Vincent?s eyes widened, and he gripped the steering wheel tightly, twisting and turning it in any direction he could think of. He lost control of the car after a few seconds. The car fishtailed and ran onto the sidewalk. Vincent threw his hands up over his eyes, and prepared for the worst.

The car crashed into a tree. Vincent was thrown up against the steering wheel, but just before he hit it, the air bag plunged out of the steering wheel and cushioned his impact. Vincent?s face was buried in the air bag. He yanked himself away from it, and took in a great gasp of air.

?Oh, dear god!? Vincent yelled. He looked around frantically and then he grinned widely. ?I?m still alive! I can?t believe it! An air bag actually [i]prevented[/i] a death! I love you, air bag!? He hugged the still-inflated air bag tightly. At that moment, the air bag deflated, and Vincent fell headfirst into the steering wheel. His jaw banged hard against the solid rubber surface of the steering wheel, and he clasped his lower jaw in pain.

?Ow!? Vincent spat. ?Damn irony. This has not been my night. It hasn?t been my week, really. Probably hasn?t been my month, either.? He looked up over the dashboard to survey the wreckage. The front of the car was crunched up tightly, folded almost completely in half. The hood of the car floated in mid-air at a forty-five degree angle, exposing the car engine. ?Man, that looks awful. Like one of those Hollywood crash scenes?this would be the part that the car explodes, I bet.?

Vincent thrust open his door and scrambled madly out of his car. He then turned around quickly, slipping a bit on the soaking wet grass, and scampered to the back seat of the car. He threw open the door, grabbed the two pieces of luggage laying on the seat, and threw them out of the car. Vincent dove onto the luggage, and clasped his hands over the back of his head. He waited a few seconds. The seconds became minutes. Rain continued to fall harshly from the raven black clouds above.

Vincent turned his head from the luggage, and looked up at the car. The raindrops stung his eyes, and despite Vincent blinking several times, the rain continued to flood his vision. However, he could still see the outline of the crashed vehicle. It had not exploded like Vincent had expected it to.

?Well, that was rather unexpected,? Vincent said. He stood up and walked all around his car. Everything was perfectly fine, except for the front, which was completely totaled. Vincent glared down at the car and then walked back over to his luggage. His fists were clenched, and his breath was steaming out in short, excited bursts. He lunged towards the ground and grasped the handles of one of his luggage bags tightly, his fingers grabbing a hold of some fresh mud.

?Fucking luggage!? Vincent screamed towards the sky. He spun around, and then flung his luggage off into this distance. The bag hit the ground, bounced once into the air, and skidded over onto some concrete. Vincent grabbed his other bag and flung it in the same direction. When it hit the ground, it skidded a bit, and then hit a tree root and bounced up in the air, landing on top of the other bag of luggage.

?Fucking grass!? Vincent yelled, stomping the grass. ?Fucking world, fucking life! And, most of all, this stupid fucking car!? Vincent kicked at the car, and his foot clipped a fist-sized rock. The rock was propelled forward, and banged against the exposed car engine. Vincent squealed sharply, and threw himself onto the grass once again. He shut his eyes tightly, and waited for the inevitable explosion. Except, the explosion never came.

Vincent looked up slowly at the car. It was still the same as it had been before: Completely ruined, but not yet marred by explosion. Vincent ran a wet hand through his hair, which was matted against his head in thick clumps. His breathing had slowed to the point of dangerous calm. He strode up slowly to his crippled car, and stopped to its side, with his hands placed firmly onto his hips. He looked down upon it with complete disdain.

?So, is this what it?s come down to?? Vincent asked the car. ?I?m at the low point of my life. I?ve just been fired from yet another job, the longest tenure I?ve had since I graduated. I didn?t even get to accomplish anything there, hell, I barely did enough to live a semi-comfortable life. Then I get canned, with nowhere to go, because the rent on my old apartment is too expensive. Now I?m stuck living like a fucking loser, and that isn?t enough, is it? Oh no, now I have to be reduced to a fucking hobo, because some squirrel decided to tap dance in the streets or whatever the hell it was doing!?

Vincent paused to take a deep breath. It would all be out soon.

?And now the only thing I have left is just about gone,? Vincent growled. ?My car, my only mode of transportation besides my own two feet, is wrecked. Old friend, I don?t have the money to fix you, so guess what? You can just rot for all I care, you can die in the middle of Nowhere Road in Anytown, U.S.A. and I just won?t give a rat?s ass!?

A bright flash of lightning momentarily blinded Vincent. He raised his arm up to his stinging eyes, and then he heard a loud crack. He peeked over his arm and saw that the tree that his car had crashed into had been struck by the lightning. The thin piece of wood holding the bulk of the tree together gave way with a thunderous snap, and the tree fell down upon Vincent?s car.

?Oh god, my car!? Vincent yelled. ?My poor car!? He looked over at the car expectantly, but nothing else happened. The fallen tree caved the roof in, and expelled the glass from the windows all across the grass surrounding the car. The car was now nothing more than a pile of twisted metal with tires and an engine, but it still had not exploded.

?God,? Vincent said. ?If you?re going to die out on me, you might as well give me a nice spectacle before you go out. But I suppose that?s just too much to ask, isn?t it?? Vincent advanced towards the car, and began kicking the sides of it with his foot. The metal frame of the car dented in with each strike. Vincent continued kicking the car until his leg was sore. He coughed loudly, and shivered. The rain had only gotten worse since he had left the motel those few hours ago.

?I?m just gonna forget about you right now,? Vincent said. ?I need a place to stay the night.? Off in the distance, Vincent spied his tossed bags of luggage on a concrete floor under a few lights. He ran towards the lights gratefully, and picked up his bags when he got to them. Vincent looked up - he was standing under a small awning, completely shielded from the rain. He hadn?t noticed the building when he first crashed his car into the tree, but he didn?t really care where it had come from. It was shelter, and shelter was good.

?Hey!? a voice yelled from some distance away. A tall, skinny, young looking man was looking over at Vincent from a doorway. ?Need some help with those bags??

?Yeah,? Vincent called back. ?I?d appreciate some help, if you don?t mind.? The young man ambled over to Vincent, scooped up the bags, and brought them over to his room. Vincent followed closely behind him, shaking off all of the water that had formed on him. He stepped into the young man?s room, closing the door behind him. The room was extremely warm and cozy, a welcome surprise for Vincent. The young man set the bags down on a couple of chairs, and walked behind a desk near the back of the room.

?So, you just get to town?? the young man asked, his brown eyes twinkling brightly.

?Yeah,? Vincent replied. ?I kind of crashed my car. I?m looking for a place to stay?say, where am I, anyway??

?This is Memoria Apartment Buildings,? the young man said. "I run it."

?Ah, apartments,? Vincent said. ?You wouldn?t happen to have an apartment available, would you??

?Twelve,? the young man replied.

?Twelve?? Vincent asked.

?Yep,? the young man grinned. ?Twelve apartments, twelve vacancies.?

?Uh,? Vincent stammered. ?Right. How?s the rent??

?Don?t worry about that right now,? the young man replied. ?You look pretty bad, so let?s just say that the first night is on the house, and we?ll work things out from there.?

?Really?? Vincent asked. ?Thanks! Say, what?s your name??

?You can call me Norm,? the young man said, scratching his cheek.

?Thanks a bunch, Norm,? Vincent said. ?My name?s Vincent. I owe ya. Don?t worry, I?ll pay you back someday, hopefully soon.?

?I have no doubts about that,? Norm replied.

?So, where?s everyone, anyway?? Vincent asked. ?I haven?t seen much of anyone around here.?

?Not many people live down here,? Norm said. ?Most of the people live closer to the commercial part of town. Most of the jobs available here are down there. Shame, too, because it?s a lot cheaper to live down here, let me tell you. They really like to gut you down in the commercial part of North Weston.?

?Sounds like it,? Vincent said. ?Anyway, would you mind giving me the key to the apartment? I think I?d really like to turn in right now. It?s been a long week. A long life, really, but that?s another story.?

?Sure thing,? Norm said, shrugging. He reached over at the board of keys behind him, and plucked a set of keys from the part of the board labeled ?#1?. Norm tossed the keys over to Vincent, and Vincent caught them, after fumbling them a bit.

?Thanks,? Vincent said. ?I guess I?ll see you in the morning, Norm.?

?You want any help with your bags?? Norm asked, grinning once again.

?No thanks,? Vincent said. ?I?m good.? He picked up his bags, looked over at Norm, and walked towards the door. Before he left the room, he glanced over at Norm one last time, and saw that Norm was still smiling at him. Vincent turned forward again and walked out of the door. He trudged up the stairs, the bags of luggage bobbing and swaying with the blowing wind, and his legs were tired once he made it to the second floor. He walked over to the door at the far end of the hall. The door had a #1 painted onto it. Vincent inserted the key, opened the door, and walked inside.

On the other side of town, another car was blazing down the road, oblivious to the horrid conditions that the storm had brought upon the city. A young woman, Maria, swept her long brown hair from her face as she struggled to keep a close eye on the road. Between the bad conditions, and the fact that she had recently been fired from her job, she didn?t need her hair getting in the way of things.

?Damn know-it-all?s,? Maria snarled, her usually subtle accent now more pronounced. ?Think they know everything about everything. I didn?t do anything wrong at all, I just did what any other person would do. And I got fired for it! Shows what kind of people run the world.? She pushed the pedal of her car down against the floor, and her car burst forward with an extra bit of speed.

?I mean, it?s just ridiculous!? Maria continued. ?My boss makes a few sexual advances, and everything?s okay, but once a [i]woman[/i] decides to take things into her own hands, and take some rewards for her own, the suddenly she?s the bad guy! Those bastards were looking for a scapegoat all along. It makes me sick.? Maria?s fierce brown eyes glared at the road, her normally light skin even paler with indignation. She continued driving, not heading anywhere in particular, but trying to drive away the anger that was coursing through her at the moment.

After a few minutes, Maria found it harder to concentrate on the road. Her eyelids grew heavy, her chest heaved in and out rhythmically, and she felt completely listless. She could hear voices calling out to her, beautiful voices that commanded her to join them in her rightful place in the world, to partake in the luxuries that were only available to the best. Lately, sleep had been one of those luxuries, and Maria could not help but give in.

A loud crash woke Maria up. When she looked up, she knew that something horrible had just happened. She opened her car, stepped outside, and let out a small moan. Her car had crashed into a pile of useless junk metal that had crept out partly onto the road. The front of her car was completely ruined, and her engine looked very bad. Maria doubted that her car would ever work again.

?Hey!? Vincent emerged from his door and shouted towards the ground below. Maria looked up, and saw Vincent running towards her, waving his arms wildly in the air. ?Hey, what did you do to my car?!?

?What are you talking about?? Maria asked, stepping out of her car. ?That piece of junk over there is a car? You could?ve fooled me, I thought it was a pile of scrap metal!?

?Well, maybe now it?s a pile of scrap metal!? Vincent retorted. ?It sure wasn?t like that when I got here!?

?Please,? Maria replied. ?Don?t try and pull that crap on me, you don?t think I notice the tree on that hunk of junk? I might?ve crashed into your ?car? but I couldn?t possibly have done that!? The rain pushed Maria?s hair onto her face once again, and she swept it away angrily. Vincent forgot what he was thinking about at the moment, and became incredibly self-conscious. Maria, though not a ravishing beauty, was still very beautiful, even soaked in rain and with messy hair. Vincent was just an average, pale, skinny doof.

?What the fuck are you staring at?? Maria asked. Vincent snapped out of his trance, and glared at Maria.

?I?m staring at the bitch who wrecked my car,? Vincent said.

?Ugh,? Maria replied. ?It?s just like a man to cling stubbornly to what little he has left. And you don?t look like you have very much.?

?I don?t have time to deal with this,? Vincent said. ?I?ve had a rough week, I just want to get some sleep, if that?s not too much to ask. I can get your information, or whatever the hell it was that I was taught to do in driving school, and I can sue your ass off in the morning. Right now, bed is my only concern.? Vincent turned sharply, and walked off back to his apartment. Maria snorted at him, and looked off into the distance. Swinging from a couple of chains hanging from the awning was a sign that read [i]Memoria Apartment Buildings[/i].

?Apartments, huh?? Maria said. ?I could use a nice place to stay. They?d better have some place available, because I?m not sleeping out in the rain.? Maria ran on the grass, and into the front office. Norm heard the door open, and glanced over at Maria. He smiled brightly at her.

?Ah, another customer,? Norm said. ?Excellent, two in one day. How may I help you??

?I need a place to stay,? Maria said. ?Do you have anything available??

?Eleven,? Norm said.

Eleven?? Maria asked.

?Yep,? Norm said. ?Eleven apartments, eleven vacancies.?

?Doesn?t that guy live in one of these apartments?? Maria asked.

?He?s just spending the night, too,? Norm replied. ?Don?t know if he?s actually going to stay. I hope he does, though, he seems like a good guy. I hope you?ll be staying, too, unless you?re just riding through town.?

?I might have to stay,? Maria said. ?It doesn?t look like I have much choice otherwise.?

?Good, good,? Norm said. ?Do you have any bags that I should get??

?Yeah,? Maria said, reaching into her pocket. She grabbed her keys, but hesitated for a moment, before deciding that Norm couldn?t really do anything with her car, and she tossed him her keys. ?The bags are in the trunk.?

?Okay,? Norm said. ?Let me give you your keys, and then you can wait in your apartment while I get your bags.? Norm reached up to the key board, and grabbed a set of keys from the area labeled ?#1?. Maria looked at the plethora of keys lining the shelf; there were several keys for each apartment number.

?Why do you have so many keys for each apartment?? Maria asked, taking the keys from Norm.

?I figure that one day some people will come here, and they?ll want to have roommates in their apartment,? Norm replied. ?I don?t think that it?d be fair to the others to have one set of keys that everyone had to use.?

?I see,? Maria said. She put the keys in her pocket, and she walked out of the room. Norm followed close behind her, and then he jogged out into the rain. Maria shivered a bit, rubbed her bare arms, and climbed up the stairs. She was still very tired, and she could not wait until she could flop onto a nice, cozy bed and fall asleep for hours and hours. Maria walked down the hall, and took her keys out of her pocket as she reached the door. She inserted her room key into the doorknob, turned the key, and opened the door. She sighed as she walked into the room, and took in the atmosphere. It was a bit cheap, and slightly cold, but it smelled nice. She closed the door behind her.

?Norm?? a voice called. ?Is that you?? Vincent walked into the room, and stopped when he saw Maria. ?What are you doing in here??

?I was just about to ask you the same thing,? Maria said.

?I just finished taking a shower in my apartment,? Vincent said. ?And now I?d like to know how the hell you were able to get in here. Are you some sort of artsy thief or something? Are you a lock-picker??

?I have a set of keys, idiot,? Maria snapped. ?I got them from the weirdo downstairs who runs this place.?

?His name?s Norm,? Vincent said. ?And he gave me keys for this apartment first, so buzz off.?

?No,? Maria said. ?I got keys from Norm, as well, and I was expecting to stay in here, and I?ll be damned if I?m going to let [i]you[/i] chase me out of here!?

?Well, I?m not budging from this room, either,? Vincent said. ?So, there.? The door opened, and Norm walked into the room, holding Maria?s bags. He put them onto the floor and nodded over at Maria.

?There are your bags,? Norm said. ?Have a good rest. Oh, hey, Vincent. What are you doing in here??

?What?? Vincent asked. ?You have me keys to this apartment! Or did you forget about that little detail??

?Um,? Norm stammered. ?I guess I did forget about that?that?s bad, isn?t it??

?Yes, it is,? Maria said. ?I don?t want to live with an ignorant pig like him!?

?And I don?t want to live with a crass bitch like her!? Vincent shouted back.

?Can one of you move to a different spot?? Norm asked. ?I mean, all of the other apartments are available??

?No!? Maria and Vincent shouted simultaneously. Norm looked taken aback for a moment, and then he collected himself, while shaking his head slowly.

?I guess that we?re not going to get this resolved very quickly,? Norm said. ?If neither of you are willing to move out right now, I guess that we?ll just leave it for the morning. In the meantime, you?ll have to share the apartment with each other. There are a couple of beds, so you won?t have to sleep together, or anything.?

?Perish the thought,? Vincent said, looking disgusted.

?Anyway, I?m going to turn in,? Norm said. ?Good night to you both.? Norm walked out of the door, and shut it behind him. While he was walking down the hall, he could hear the booming arguments of Maria and Vincent. ?Maybe they?ll shout themselves hoarse soon. Not a concern of mine, anyway, at least I can?t hear them from downstairs.?

Maria and Vincent argued long into the night, their loud, screeching voices carrying off into the star-filled nighttime sky.

[Mimmsicle]

[FONT=Verdana][SIZE=1][COLOR=Sienna]Hehe, this was a really fun read. I'd list every scene that stood out, though that'd mean quoting much of the story :p A favourite would have to be the meeting with the boss though, haha. All in all I love how your characters interact, either by themselves and the situation they're in or with others.

Time to nitpick! (And these are really small complaints. Still, they're worth pointing out, to ensure your ego doesn't inflate too much >>) Are you ready?

[quote]"The headlights of Vincent?s car only lit up a small area of space in front of his car, so he could only get a cursory glance at what was in front of him."[/quote]
You used "only" twice. It's incredibly petty of me to point that out but the repetition freak in me irked :<

[quote]?Man, that looks awful. Looks like one of those Hollywood crash scenes?this would be the part that the car explodes, I bet.

Vincent opened his door quickly and scrambled out of the car. He then turned around quickly, slipping a bit on the soaking wet grass, and scampered to the back seat of the car. He threw open the door, grabbed the two pieces of luggage laying on the seat, and threw them out of the car. Vincent dove onto the luggage, and clasped his hands over the back of his head. He waited a few seconds. The seconds became minutes. Rain continued to fall harshly from the raven black clouds above? [/quote]
While it does come across in the long paragraph that it's one of those " .... O_O OMG" moments, I still feel you need to emphasize it [I]a bit[/I] more. As it is now it doesn't come off effective enough, and I didn't realize he was having a " .... O_O OMG" moment at first. But maybe I'm just dumb like that ^_^;

[quote]"I?ve just been fired from yet another job, the longest job I?ve held since I got out of college [U]a few years back[/U]."[/quote]Ok, I know this is a narrative story but it reads kind of weird to hear him say that last part of the sentence (much like it did reading "[I]oh well, not like I was really listening to it, anyway.[/I]? in the beginning of the story, when he turned off the radio). It could be that I'm used to reading that as a thought, not as something a person is saying out loud when by him/herself. Maybe I need to read it again, keeping in mind the way it's told *ponders*


Hmmm, after looking at what problems I had with this story... I realise that they're very minor. Which leads me to one conclusion:

You're getting too good for my nitpicking to be justified! ;___; [/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT]

[Shinmaru]

Okay, this will be the only update that I do really quickly after the previous update. I just started writing a bit this morning, and I just [i]had[/i] to finish this chapter lol. All of the other chapters will come in intervals of one or two weeks in between to give people who'd like to read this time to catch up, and to ensure that I don't burn out on this story. These chapters take a long time to write, you know, haha.

And, yeah...good god, I did not intend for this chapter to be as obscenely long as it turned out to be. Eighteen (!!!) pages in MS Word. Yikes. That's a lot, considering that the synopsis for this chapter that I wrote was barely over a page, haha. But oh well, I think that it turned out pretty well. I'm still laying the groundwork for everything in these early chapters, but hopefully things are starting to take off for people.

And, now, the second chapter.

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[b][center]Jobs For The Jobless[/b][/center]

The light of the sun crept between the window blinds, and into the room. The golden haze passed over Vincent?s eyes, and he groaned softly. With a strain of effort, he opened his eyes, and then closed them immediately, blinded by the sun. He rolled over in his bed, and covered himself with his blankets. The alarm clock on the desk near Vincent?s bed began screeching loudly. The cacophonous buzz pierced Vincent?s ears like a swarm of crickets. He sprang up in his bed, and threw his covers off of his body. He looked over at the alarm clock with wide, bloodshot eyes.

?Why do I even have this thing?? Vincent asked himself. He picked up the alarm clock and threw it across the room. The clock smashed against the wall, and scattered onto the floor in many pieces. Vincent sighed and threw himself back onto his pillows, but he could not fall asleep again. He rubbed his sore eyes gingerly, and stepped off of his bed, settling his bare feet into a pair of blue slippers.

Vincent walked into the next room, scratching at his side. He saw Maria hunched over in her pajamas, a piece of chalk in her hands, drawing a long, white line in the middle of the room.

?What the hell are you doing?? Vincent asked.

?What does it look like I?m doing?? Maria replied.

?It looks like you?re drawing a line in the middle of the room,? Vincent said.

?Thanks for answering your own stupid question,? Maria sneered. She finished the chalk line, put the piece of chalk back in her bag, and dusted her hands off.

?Where did you get chalk from?? Vincent asked.

?I had it in my bag,? Maria answered.

?Why?? Vincent asked, his right eyebrow raised.

?I believe in being prepared for anything,? Maria said. ?I have lots of useful things in my bags. I doubt you have much of anything useful in your luggage.?

?I have everything I need in my luggage,? Vincent said. He walked forward a bit, and Maria stepped in front of him, jabbing her index finger into his chest.

?Where do you think you?re going?? Maria asked.

?I?m going to the kitchen,? Vincent said. ?I?m hungry. Now please move out of the way before I [i]make[/i] you move.?

?You won?t be making me move anywhere,? Maria stated. ?Do you see that line on the floor??

?Yeah,? Vincent replied. ?I see it. And I?ll erase it once I get the chance, it?s annoying.?

?You won?t be erasing anything,? Maria sneered. ?That line is going to separate the apartment into two sections, one for you, and one for me. If we?re going to live together, I?m going to make sure that I have nothing to do with you at all. You?re not my type. Plus, you?re an idiot.?

?And you just [i]happened[/i] to take the side with the kitchen,? Vincent frowned.

?And the bathroom,? Maria nodded. ?But since you?re such a resourceful guy, and all, I?m sure that you?ll find a way around that little issue, won?t you?? Maria winked coquettishly at Vincent, turned around, and left the room, her hair sweeping around behind her. Vincent narrowed his eyes at her swaying figure, and looked down at the floor once she left the room. A grin spread across his face. He smudged the chalk line from one side of the room to the other, and only a few dusty white spots remained when he was finished.

?That?ll show her,? Vincent said. ?For a few seconds, at least.? Vincent walked over to the front door, and opened it. A newspaper lay on the welcome mat in front of the door. Vincent picked it up, tucked it under his arm, and closed the door. Some of the brisk morning air blew into the apartment before Vincent could close the door. Goosebumps spread up and down Vincent?s left arm. He rubbed the arm smoothly as he walked over to his room.

?News always cheers me up,? Vincent said, closing the door behind him, and flopping onto his bed. ?Psh, charity work, I could?ve found something way better??

While Vincent was poring over the paper, Maria walked out of her room with a bathrobe on. Her hair was still wet from her morning shower, but she had just brushed it, so it no longer hung around in thick clumps. She strolled over to the refrigerator and rummaged through it a bit, pulling out some butter from among the meager amounts of food actually available in the fridge. She then took some bread out, and popped it into a toaster.

?I?m going to have to get some money soon,? Maria muttered. ?There isn?t very much food available here, and I know that oaf won?t be bending over backwards to help me.? While the toast was heating up, Maria walked back into the bathroom to scope out her looks a bit. She?d calmed down considerably from the day before, and her appearance reflected that. Her soft, brown eyes were now calm rather than wild and jumpy. Her skin was now a healthy light color rather than pale and sickly. Her lips were bright and full, her cheeks were rosy, and her mind was at least somewhat peaceful. She looked good, and she felt good; the long rest had done its job.

Maria heard the toast pop up, and she shuffled back into the kitchen. She buttered the toast gracefully, brought out a napkin, and put her food on the table. She then poured herself a glass of orange juice. Before she could sit down to enjoy her meal, the phone rang. Maria let out a soft grunt, and walked over to the phone. She picked up the receiver irritably.

?Hello?? Maria asked. ?Oh, hi, Norman. Yes, of course I?m doing well. Yes, the bed is comfortable. No, no, the shower water wasn?t too cold, I enjoyed it. Uh-huh. He?s in the other room.? Maria put a hand over the speaker. ?Hey, stupid, you?ve got a call! Pick up the phone!? Maria put her ear back up to the receiver. She heard a soft click a few seconds later, and then she put down the phone.

?Hmph,? she said. ?I?m not supposed to be his dainty little secretary. He owes me a favor.? Maria looked across the room, and spotted the smudged line of chalk on the floor. ?That little bastard smudged my chalk line! Well, I told him that I was always prepared, so I won?t disappoint him.? Maria walked over to her bag and rummaged through it a bit. She pulled out a can of white paint, and a thick paintbrush.

?Always prepared,? she nodded to herself.

Back in Vincent?s room, Vincent hung up the phone. He tossed his newspaper onto his bed, and it floated down gracefully with the Wanted page wide open. Several small ads were circled haphazardly in crimson red, while others were crossed out. Vincent looked back over at the newspaper, hesitating slightly. He then grabbed the paper, and studied it for a few seconds. He dialed a number on the phone, and listening to the dial tone ring a few times.

?Can?t believe I forgot the number,? Vincent said. ?I just called a while ago.? He waited a few more seconds, each second more agonizing than the last. A bead of sweat rolled its way down his forehead and down the side of his face. He swept it off with an annoyed gesture, and then someone picked up the phone on the other line.

?Yes,? Vincent said. ?I?m just calling to confirm my appointment?it?s in a couple of days, right? No? You pushed it up to today? Well, no, it?s not an inconvenience, just a bit unexpected, is all. Yeah, I can make it no problem, I might be a bit late, though. Is that a problem? Oh, good. Yes, yes, I?m very pleased that you?re giving me the opportunity to apply for a job. Yes, I realize that not many people get this sort of chance. Okay, I?ll see you in about a half hour or so. Goodbye.?

Vincent hung up the phone. He rubbed his temple absently as he gazed over at his half-opened closet. He?d just finished putting away all of his clothes a few minutes ago. Having to rummage through the closet again to find a suitable outfit was an annoyance, but Vincent was determined not to let that show in his demeanor when he showed up for his interview. He needed a job, and badly. He wouldn?t screw this up.

?Hm,? Vincent murmured. ?Don?t have any suits here, that might be a problem.? Vincent swiped his way slowly through the thick jungle of shirts and pants, ducking past swinging hangers that made their way a bit too close to Vincent?s fragile neck for his liking. He grabbed a lopsided hanger off of the white bar suspended near the roof of the closet, and thrashed his way deeper into the heart of the closet. Hidden deep behind a cavalcade of Hawaiian shirts and acid-washed jeans, hung a simple red sweater and a pair of black slacks. Vincent?s eyes lit up brightly, as he plucked the clothes off of the bar, and took them out of the darkness of the closet.

?Ah, these are perfect!? Vincent exclaimed. ?I?ll just wear a nice, white undershirt with this, and nobody will be the wiser!? Vincent placed the clothes gently onto his mattress, and then scrounged around underneath the bed. He found a pair of black, dusty dress shoes. He plucked a cloth off of the desk drawer beside him, and wiped the shoes clean.

?There we go,? Vincent smiled. ?The illusion is perfect, they?ll think I?m a model employee. After I?m hired I can dress however the hell I want. Unless this is one of those places where they make you dress up everyday.? Vincent shuddered for a moment. He then changed his clothes, throwing his pajamas into the corner of his room, and putting on the white undershirt, red sweater, black slacks and black dress shoes. He wandered over to the mirror hanging charmingly on the front of the closet. He ran a hand self-consciously through his jet black hair, and blinked a bit. His eyes were no longer the dull, tired shade of green they?d been that morning. Now they were alive and full of life.

?Excellent,? Vincent said, satisfied at his image. He snatched the newspaper off of his bed, and walked out of his room. When he entered the main room of the apartment, he spied Maria adding the last touches of a thick white line in the middle of the room.

?What are you doing?? Vincent asked.

?What does it look like I?m doing?? Maria replied, rolling her eyes.

?I smudged that stupid chalk line earlier,? Vincent said. ?It isn?t fair that you get a whole side of the apartment all for yourself, especially the side with the food and the bathroom!?

?You?re only going to be paying for half of the rent, aren?t you?? Maria asked innocently. ?Therefore, it seems logical to me that you should have half of the apartment to yourself. I?m only trying to help you out.?

?Right,? Vincent replied. ?And how are you going to be paying for your half? Last time I heard, lazing around the apartment wasn?t a real job.?

?Like you have a job!? Maria shouted. ?You just got here yesterday!?

?It just so happens that I have a job interview lined up right now,? Vincent smirked. ?I bet that?s more than you can say, unless you have a nice interview lined up at a street corner somewhere.? Maria scowled fiercely at Vincent, and he grinned triumphantly. ?Guess not. If you?ll excuse me, then, I?ll be leaving. It won?t make a good impression if I?m late, after all.? Vincent tossed the newspaper down on the floor, opened the front door, and left the apartment.

Maria watched the door close with hatred boiling beneath her skin. She stood staring at the door with her arms crossed over her chest, and her foot tapping incessantly, for a couple of minutes. Her gaze lowered to the floor, where she saw the newspaper laying on the ground, the edge of it just barely touching her side of the apartment. Her eyes shifted minutely from the left and right, and she bent over to pick up the paper. As she grasped it with her fingers, a loud knock sounded off from the door. She dropped the paper in surprise, and then collected herself, her pulse slowing down gradually.

?Who is it?? Maria shouted.

?It?s Norm!? Norm answered. ?Mind if I come in??

?Not at all,? Maria replied, letting a small sigh escape from her lips. ?Come right in.? Norm unlocked the door, and stepped into the apartment. He was carrying some measuring tape, a notepad and a pencil.

?You just wake up?? Norm asked.

?I woke up about a half hour ago,? Maria answered. She moved over to the small red chair near the kitchen, and plopped down upon it, setting the paper in her lap. ?It?s not been a good morning.?

?That?s too bad,? Norm said. ?Vincent was all smiles just now.?

?I bet he was,? Maria snorted. ?Do you know where he?s going??

?He was going to the local paper for a job interview,? Norm replied. ?But that?s all the way downtown, and that?s a bit too far for a walk. Fortunately, the bus station is near here, so I gave him the directions there. He should be getting there in a couple of minutes.?

?Whatever,? Maria sighed, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the soft chair. ?What?s with all of that stuff??

?Oh, I?m here to measure Vincent?s room,? Norm said. ?He wants an extra toilet and bathtub put in. Don?t know how I?m going to do that, but Vincent said he?d pay me back in full if I did, and he?d owe me a huge favor.?

?I should?ve known he?d try something dumb like that,? Maria said, her expression a mix of horror and fascination. ?If he?s going to be a journalist, he won?t be able to pay you back for a long time, though. Journalists don?t have money.?

?He?ll pay me back,? Norm smiled. ?Of that I?m sure.?

?Go ahead and believe that,? Maria said. She took out a pair of reading glasses from her breast pocket, and looked down at the Wanted section of the paper. Norm left the room, and went into Vincent?s room, closing the door behind him. Maria read through each ad carefully, weighing all of the pros and cons in her mind. After fifteen minutes, she threw the paper down to the floor in disgust. Norm walked out of Vincent?s room, and saw the crumpled paper on the floor.

?Something driving you up the wall?? Vincent asked.

?I?m just trying to find myself some work,? Maria sighed. ?As much as I hate to admit that idiot was right?he?s right, I need some sort of job to pull my own weight here. God forbid I start relying on Vincent for things.?

?There?s a nice diner that just opened up downtown a couple of weeks ago,? Norm said. ?You might want to work down there for a while until you can collect your bearings and move on to something better.?

?Ugh,? Maria said. ?I just got fired from a job in a diner a while ago. I don?t want to work in another one.?

?We all have to do jobs that we?d rather not do,? Norm replied. ?You know, I was a male prostitute once.?

Maria stared at Norm with wide, questioning eyes, and her mouth gaped open.

?Well, I wasn?t one for very long,? Norm said sheepishly. Maria got up off of the chair and scrambled over to her room.

?Fine, I?ll see if the stupid diner has anything open,? Maria said, wanting to get out of the apartment as quickly as possible. ?It can?t be any worse than the other diners I?ve worked at.? Norm continued to stand in the middle of the room, his face beet red. After a few minutes, Maria emerged from her room dressed in a sleeveless red shirt and jeans. She glanced over at Norm for a moment, and then walked out of the apartment.

Not too far away, Vincent stood in the middle of a crowd at the Golden Retriever Bus Station. He was squished in between a chain smoker and a very loud preacher. Vincent tried his very best to breathe as little as possible, and refused to look at the preacher for even one second. The preacher was shouting about the dangers of chain smoking, while the chain smoker stood oblivious to the world around him. Vincent?s lungs burned harshly and he knew that he would not be able to hold his breath for much longer. Finally, the next bus came lurching around the corner and came screeching to a halt, exhaust fuming heavily out of the tailpipe. Vincent let out his breath in a loud wheeze. He pushed and shoved his way through the crowd to get onto the bus.

Vincent threw himself onto a seat near the front of the bus, and scooted over close to the window. A teenager sat down beside him, took out a cell phone, and started playing games on it. Vincent was mildly interested in the game for a few moments, but then he took to looking out of the window apathetically. He placed his hand underneath his chin, and sighed.

?Nothing to do but to wait until I get there,? Vincent said. After he finished talking, he saw something out of the corner of his eye. For a split-second he thought he recognized someone in the crowd who was waiting for the next bus, but be dismissed the thought as delirium brought on by boredom.

Back at the bus stop, Maria stood waiting impatiently for the next bus. She had a small circle of free space around her, as she had kicked the balls in of the first guy who?d dared to pat her on the ass. She tapped her foot nervously, and glanced down at her wrist every few seconds, despite the fact that she was not wearing a watch. She shifted the purse that she was carrying from side to side. Another bus came after a few minutes. The bus came to a much smoother stop than the bus that had proceeded it. The door slid open, and Maria stepped onto the bus, choosing to sit in a seat in the middle of the bus. The other people filed in nervously after Maria had seated herself.

The man whose groin had been viciously mauled by Maria still lay hunched over on the ground, moaning in pain. Somewhere, the loud preacher prayed for his soul.

Vincent?s bus stopped in the middle of the commercial area of town, and Vincent hopped off of the bus. Before he could move away from the bus stop, the bus started up again, spraying a thick cloud of exhaust in Vincent?s face. He coughed loudly, his lungs straining for breathable air, and his stomach clenching tightly. Vincent spat a few times on the ground, waited a few moments to calm down, and then scanned the area, trying to determine where exactly he was. He looked down at the address he had written down on a scrap of paper, and looked across the street.

A tall building stood on the corner of the street, rising as far into the sky as Vincent could see. The building seemed to be built completely of glass, and reflected the sun?s rays in a dazzling display of light and color. Vincent looked down at the scrap of paper in his hand once again, decided that he was at the right place, and crossed the street. He walked up to the skyscraper, and hesitated before walking in. Merely standing in front of this majestic building spread a chill throughout Vincent?s body. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and walked through the automatic doors.

Vincent was met with a blast of cool air upon entry to the building. He gazed around the front room in awe. The room looked like the lobby of a four-star hotel. People scampered from room to room, jabbering excitedly with one another, and carrying large stacks of paper in their arms. Elevators rose and fell in perfect harmony, visible through the glass tubes that contained them. Vincent tried to take in everything all at once, but only succeeded in dizzying himself. He walked a few steps forward and slammed his knee into a desk.

?Ow!? Vincent shouted. A secretary who had been typing speedily on a computer looked up questioningly at him.

?Can I help you, sir?? she asked, adjusting her glasses neatly on her face.

?Yeah,? Vincent replied, trying vainly to hide the sharp pain in his knee. ?I have a job interview today.?

?I see,? the secretary answered. She turned her chair around, opened up a window on her computer, and typed for a few seconds. She turned back towards Vincent. ?Go up to the sixteenth floor, second door on the left, you can?t miss it.?

?Thanks,? Vincent said. ?Say, this is a pretty big place, you guys sure do well for being a local paper and all.?

?We don?t operate merely on the local level, sir,? the secretary stated. ?Our paper is delivered worldwide - we just find it best to practice business out here.?

?Um,? Vincent said. ?That?s nice. Well, I?ll be going now.?

?Goodbye, sir,? the secretary said, going back to her typing. Vincent peered at her for a few seconds longer, and then he walked over to the elevators. He pressed the up button, and then recoiled sharply. The metallic surface had shocked his hand. Vincent shook his hand in the air a bit, and then rubbed it gently while the elevator descended towards the ground. The elevator hit the floor gently, and the doors opened with a soft noise announcing its arrival.

Vincent stepped into the elevator and it closed behind him. He looked over at the buttons on the wall in front of him. There were more elevator buttons there than Vincent had ever seen in his life. He pushed the button marked ?16? and waited as the elevator rose slowly towards his destination. As the elevator car climbed higher and higher, the chill that had been spreading through Vincent?s body earlier seemed to collect in his spine and linger there. He tried controlling his breathing to calm himself down, but it didn?t work.

The elevator slowed to the stop and the door opened. Vincent stepped out into the sixteenth floor, and the elevator door closed immediately behind him and continued to rise. Vincent walked to the end of the hall where the glass windows overlooked the city. Vincent stared in wonder at the city below. Cars were driving, people were walking, everything was completely normal, but from Vincent?s vantage point it all seemed so much more grandiose.

Vincent then suddenly remembered where he was supposed to go, and he walked back over to the elevator. He walked over to the left hallway, and walked past the first door and stopped at the second. He raised his hand slowly into the air, but stopped just in front of the door. Vincent took a deep breath, swallowed loudly, and expelled all of the nervousness he was feeling at the moment.

He rapped lightly on the door.

?Come in,? a gruff voice growled. Vincent?s heart skipped a beat, but he did as he was told. He opened the door, and stepped inside, closing it behind him. There was a man sitting behind a desk across from him. He had very short hair, white on top, and gray on the sides. His blue eyes blazed with life, and his square jaw was set in a look of annoyance at Vincent. The man stood up, and rolled the white sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows. He bent over slightly, and his red tie dangled precariously from his neck.

?Um,? Vincent stammered. ?Hello.?

?Who are you?? the man asked.

?My name is Vincent,? Vincent answered. ?I?m here for a job interview.?

?A job interview, huh?? the man questioned. ?Do you think you have what it takes to be a reporter for [i]The Daily Trumpet[/i]??

?Excuse me?? Vincent asked.

?You?re just like the rest of the young punks who come in here begging for a job,? the man went on, ignoring Vincent. ?You think you can just waltz in here and I?ll give you whatever you want. Not on my turf!?

?I don?t know what you?re talking about, sir,? Vincent said, completely aghast.

?Maybe you don?t right now, but you will,? the man said. ?Oh, I can still see it in you, that idealism still present and accounted for in a college graduate. How long have you been in the real world, son? A few years maybe? Do you know what it?s like to see [i]real[/i] news? To report on [i]real[/i] facts, to inform people on what?s [i]really[/i] happening??

?Er,? Vincent said.

?That?s right, you don?t,? the man replied. ?And maybe you never will, I don?t know. But one thing I do know is this: If you?re gonna work here, you?re gonna work hard. None of this pansy student profile crap you went through in the minors. This is the big leagues, son, the big leagues!?

?Yes, sir,? Vincent said, wide eyed and nodding frantically.

?So, do you still want to go through with it, son?? the man asked. ?Are you willing to put in the hours necessary to be on the top of your game? You?d damn well better be if you?re going to work here. You know what we call a journalist after fifteen years??

?No,? Vincent said. ?What??

?An editor,? the man said. ?You work hard, you put in the time, and maybe you?ll be in my spot, someday. But if you dog it, you?ll be out on the street with the other lowlifes, the scum of the universe, the dregs of society. And we?ll be the ones reporting on your sorry life, telling everyone about the petty crimes you?ll be committing just to live everyday. You understand me??

?I think so,? Vincent answered.

?Good,? the man said. ?Do you know who I am??

?Not offhand,? Vincent said.

?My name?s Luplitzer,? the man said. ?Jacob Luplitzer, the owner and editor in chief of this operation.?

?Mr. Luplitzer!? Vincent said. ?I had no idea I?d be meeting you for this interview!?

?Quiet!? Luplitzer shouted. ?What?s your name, son??

?Vincent, sir,? Vincent said.

?Your full name,? Luplitzer prodded.

?Vincent Alan Rambulo,? Vincent replied.

?Good, good,? Luplitzer said. ?Rambulo, huh? Sounds like a journalist name to me.?

?So, are we going to start the interview now?? Vincent asked hopefully.

?What?? Luplitzer asked. ?No, no, I?m not going to be conducting this interview.?

?What?? Vincent asked. ?Then who-- oof!? Vincent was slammed in the back of the head with a blunt object. He fell limply onto the ground. Two men in dark suits and sunglasses stood behind him, their right arms permanently fixed onto their earpieces.

?We?ll see if this Vincent has what it takes to work for [i]The Trumpet[/i],? Luplitzer said. ?Drag his body to the interrogation room!?

?Yes, sir,? one of the suited men said. They grabbed Vincent?s legs and dragged him out of the room.

Outside, Maria was standing at the bus stop that Vincent had gotten off at. She looked at the scrap of paper she held in her hands, and then she looked at the street signs. She walked swiftly in the opposite direction of the Daily Trumpet building, carefully evading people as she hurried along the sidewalk. After a few minutes, she stopped in front a large diner. She looked up at the sign hanging above the door. The sign read ?Chez Merde? in large, black letters.

?Chez Merde?? Maria said. ?Sounds obscene.? She looked over in the window of the diner, and to her relief, she saw that there was a Help Wanted sign hanging in the window. She pushed open the doors, walked inside of the diner, and swiped the sign away from the window. She looked around for anyone who looked like they worked there, and she spotted a man with short blonde hair and a white shirt with jeans and a name tag hanging out on a stool. She walked over to him and introduced herself.

?Hey, I?m going to apply for a job here,? Maria said. ?Where?s the manager??

?He?s in there,? the man said, pointing across the room lazily. Near the back of the diner was a room that had the words ?Manager?s Office? painted onto them.

?Thanks,? Maria said. She walked over to the office and knocked loudly on the door.

?Who is it?? a voice said.

?I?m here to apply for a job,? Maria answered. ?I have your Help Wanted sign.?

?Oh, excellent!? the voice said. ?Come right in!? Maria opened the door and stepped inside. Standing at the far end of the room beside a large, wooden desk was a tall, lanky young man. His messy black hair reminded Maria of the kids that she used to go to school with, as did his bright, inquisitive blue eyes. However, his pale skin reminded Maria of someone who didn?t go outside often enough.

?Are you the manager?? Maria asked.

?The manager [i]and[/i] the owner!? the man said, with a slight accent that Maria could not identify. ?The name is Charles M. Bloomheimer IV Esq.!?

?Um,? Maria said. ?Nice to meet you.?

?And who are you?? Bloomheimer asked, eyeing Maria. ?Besides a lovely lady, that is. Full name, please, just for reference.?

?Maria Yvette Castaneda,? Maria replied.

?Good, good,? Bloomheimer murmured, scribbling on a notepad. ?So, you?d like to work here, huh? Hope you?re not just going to be a part-time worker, I could use some more good hands around here!?

?No, I think I?ll be working full-time,? Maria replied.

?Excellent, excellent,? Bloomheimer said. ?Do you have your resume with you??

?Yes,? Maria said, digging through her purse. She took out a group of papers and handed them over to Bloomheimer. He thumbed through them absently for a few seconds.

?Everything seems to be in order,? Bloomheimer said. ?There?s just one thing that we need to do before I hire you.?

?What?s that?? Maria asked.

?The obstacle course!? Bloomheimer shouted. ?Truth be told, this is my favorite part of the hiring process. Oh, how I love seeing my precious employees scramble through my homemade course!? Maria stared at him in horror.

?Excuse me?? Maria asked. ?An obstacle course??

?Yes,? Bloomheimer replied. ?It?s essential for new employees to show me their mettle in a course that will test their endurance and physical ability.?

?But I don?t want to go through an obstacle course!? Maria yelled.

?Well, if you want this job, then you?ll have to,? Bloomheimer said. ?Unless you have some other job lined up.?

?No,? Maria said, grimacing. ?I don?t.?

?Then follow me!? Bloomheimer said, walking out of the room. ?Oh, this will be so much fun!? Bloomheimer strolled gallantly to the kitchen area, and bounced past his chef. Maria followed him cautiously. Bloomheimer walked over to a door located at the very back of the kitchen, brought out a key, and unlocked a door. The door opened, and Bloomheimer stepped into a darkened room, with Maria following closely behind him. When Maria stepped into the room, the door closed, throwing them both into complete darkness. Bloomheimer felt around the side wall a bit, and flipped a switch. Bright light filled the room, and Maria covered her eyes until they had time to adjust.

When she uncovered her eyes, Maria could not believe what she saw.

The entire room was converted into a military-style obstacle course in a mock jungle. There were tires littered about the ground, in between thick-leafed trees and exotic flowers. Bottomless chasms appeared intermittently along the landscape, with long green vines available to swing over them with. Pull-up bars made of bamboo were located near the beginning and end of the obstacle course. Maria was standing just outside of the jungle, but she could still partly feel the intense heat and humidity emanating from it.

?How the hell did you get this in here?? Maria asked.

?I?m a very rich man, my dear,? Bloomheimer said. ?I can do just about anything I want.?

?And you want me to go through there, right?? Maria asked.

?Correct,? Bloomheimer replied.

?This had better be the greatest diner job I?ve ever had in my life,? Maria said.

?Oh, you won?t have to worry about that,? Bloomheimer said. ?You?ll be starting at the very bottom, of course, but I can guarantee you that I will pay you at least double what you earned at your previous job. Perhaps triple if I?m in a good mood.? Maria looked back over at the jungle, and then at Bloomheimer.

?You really like seeing people run through that thing, don?t you?? she asked.

?Yes, I do,? Bloomheimer said. ?It?s quite amusing.? Maria sighed and walked over to the starting line. She hunched over a bit, and stretched her muscles out. She had a feeling that she?d need to be as loose as humanly possible for this.

?On your mark,? Bloomheimer shouted. ?Get set! Go!? Maria took off running into the jungle. The thick humidity affected her almost immediately, and she slowed down so as to conserve energy. She ducked past loose branches and under thick, green leaves. She came across the first patch of tires, and danced her way through them gracefully. Up next there was a long, straight path where Maria could see no traps or anything. She put on an extra burst of speed, but at the last moment, she leaped into the air. When she?d gotten to the middle of the path, she spotted a long, taut silver string stretched out along the path, meant to trip up anyone not paying attention.

Maria landed a bit awkwardly, but managed to regain her balance and she continued to sprint through the jungle. She took a left turn, and came upon the second patch of tires. This time she ran straight through them, barely pausing to lift her feet out of each tire she stepped into. She came to another fork in the road, and this time took the right path, and came upon a chasm with a vine swinging loosely over it. She timed her running just right so that when she came up to the chasm, the vine was swinging in her direction. She grabbed it, flew over the chasm, and landed triumphantly on the other side.

Maria?s heart was beating harshly in her chest, and her lungs were burning with fire, but the adrenaline rush she was feeling at the moment kept her going. She came at last to one last fork in the road - her mind told her to take the right fork again, but her gut told her to go with the left, and so she did. The path lead her to a long, straight path similar to the one she ran through near the beginning of the course. There were no strings that Maria could see, so she ran as fast as she could. When she got a quarter of the way through the path, she heard a loud rumbling. She slowed down a bit, and looked behind her. A large boulder dropped down from the roof and began rolling down the path after her.

Maria screamed wildly and ran as fast as her tired legs could carry her. Her arms cut swiftly through the air, and her legs pumped and strained as she ran. Her breath came out in short, harsh wheezes. As each second went by, the boulder gained on her, inch by inch, at first, and then foot by foot. Maria could feel the boulder kicking dirt onto the back of her legs by the time she was near the end of the course. She dove out to the side, and rolled over near Bloomheimer. The boulder rolled past her, and slammed into the metal wall outside of the jungle, making a huge dent. Bloomheimer winced when the impact happened.

?That poor wall always seems to take a beating,? he said. Maria looked up at him incredulously for a few seconds, and then she no longer had the energy to crane her neck upwards. She sat down on her knees and breathed hard, trying to regain the energy that she had just lost. She was hot, sweaty, and tired, but at the same time she was completely exhilarated. This did not stop her from being completely pissed off at Bloomheimer, of course.

?Well, that was quite fun,? Bloomheimer said. ?Here, let me help you into the other room. I?ll introduce you to your co-workers, and give you your work dress. Then, you?ll be free to go.? Maria once again looked up at Bloomheimer.

?A dress at work?? she gasped. ?How humiliating.?

Back at [i]The Daily Trumpet[/i], Vincent woke up in a darkened room. There was a dull ache in his temple. He tried to move his hands to feel his head, but his hands were tied up behind his back. He opened his eyes, and saw that he was tied up in a chair.

?Look, the little guy?s awake,? a voice said from behind Vincent. A person stepped out from the shadows. He was clad in a dark suit with sunglasses and blonde hair, one of his hands seemingly stuck permanently to the side of his head, adjusting his earpiece. The other person behind Vincent stepped out from behind him. He looked exactly the same as the other one. Once they both talked, Vincent immediately thought that they both sounded the same, as well.

?I?m Trevor,? one of the men said. ?And this here?s Steven. We?ll be your interviewers for today. That cool with you??

?Yeah,? Vincent said. ?I?m cool.?

?Good, good,? Steven said. ?How about a little interviewing music? Would you like that?? Vincent nodded, and Steven nodded over to Trevor. Trevor disappeared from sight. He was fiddling with a small radio, trying to decide on a station. At last, he decided on an oldies station that was playing Roy Orbison?s ?Pretty Woman? at the moment.

?Yeah, Roy Orbison,? Trevor said. ?He?s got a great voice, don?t he? I?ve been listening to him since I was a little kid. He?ll never go out of style.? Vincent wasn?t listening very much. He was too busy looking back and forth between Trevor and Steven.

?Okay,? Steven said. ?I?ll be the interviewer, and Trevor?ll be the encourager. I?ll ask you questions, and if I don?t get an answer I like, Trevor will encourage you to give me an answer I [i]do[/i] like. Got that??

?What?? Vincent asked. Trevor took out a sharp object and swiped it across Vincent?s face. His cheek was now very red, and it stung a lot. Vincent managed to turn his head towards Trevor, and he saw that he was holding a small toothpick in his hands, which he then put into his mouth. He then reached up and jiggled the lamp above Vincent a bit, focusing more light upon him.

?You see,? Steven said. ?That was a bad answer. You want good answers from now on, right?? Vincent nodded. ?Good, good. Now, have you ever worked at a paper before??

?Yes, I have,? Vincent answered quickly.

?I see,? Steven said, writing something down. ?And, at this paper, what sort of advertisements did they run??

?Huh?? Vincent asked, and then he started jabbering quickly so that Trevor wouldn?t slash him with the toothpick. ?Just regular ads, just regular ads! Sports stuff, lingerie, grocery stores, jewelry, all of that kind of stuff!?

?Okay,? Steven replied. ?And how long have you been out of college??
?Five years,? Vincent answered.

?Hmm,? Steven said. ?That good enough, Trev??

?I dunno,? Trevor said. ?Might have to work him a bit before we let him in.?

?You?re probably right,? Steven replied. ?One last question: Do you believe in extraterrestrial life forms? You know, little green men from outer space??

?Yeah,? Vincent said. ?Believed in them since I was a little kid, watching the X-Files every day.?

?Heh,? Trevor said. ?The X-Files! That show was a load of bunk, kid. Good show, but completely full of it.?

?Anyway,? Steven said. ?We?re done here. You?re free to go home. Untie the kid, Trev.? Trevor untied Vincent, and Vincent stood up, wobbling a bit. He grasped the chair tightly to keep his balance.

?We?ll give you a call tomorrow morning if you?re made of the right stuff for the job,? Trevor said. ?If you ain?t, then we don?t want you near here ever again. Got that??

?Yeah,? Vincent said. ?I got it.?

?Good,? Steven said. ?Now get out of our sight. The exit?s on the left, it leads to the ground for. Your bus will be here in a few minutes.? Vincent stumbled out of the room without thinking twice.

On the other side of town, at Chez Merde, Maria stood among her co-workers with Bloomheimer, holding the dress she?d be wearing at work. Bloomheimer paced from side to side in front of everyone.

?People,? Bloomheimer said. ?This is Maria, your new co-worker. You will be expected to treat her with as much respect and dignity as I treat the rest of you with. I assure you that she will be an invaluable asset to our little operation, and that she will fit in very easily. Maria, let me introduce you to everyone.?

?This is Celeste, my chef,? Bloomheimer said, stopping in front of a portly man done up in a chef?s uniform. His thick black mustache twitched nervously, as did his thick black eyebrows. ?Say hello, Celeste.?

?Hello,? Celeste said, in a deep, rumbling voice. Bloomheimer continued on.

?These are my waiters,? Bloomheimer said, gesturing to a group of three people. ?Marie, Emmanuel, and Meursault. Say hello, everyone!?

?Hey,? Marie said, putting some lipstick onto her sensually shaped lips. She brushed aside a lock of long black hair away from her milky-skinned face.

?Um, er, hi,? Emmanuel said, reaching out to shake Maria?s hand. She took it reluctantly, shook for a half-second, and then pulled away. Emmanuel reddened and began mumbling to himself. He ran his hand nervously through his greasy black hair.

?Hello,? Meursault said. He was the blonde man that Marie had seen earlier in the day. He looked utterly bored at the moment.

?There?s another waitress working here,? Bloomheimer said. ?But she doesn?t appear to be present at the moment. Anyway, the last worker we have here is Dusty, our janitor. Come on out, Dusty!? A man stepped out from the kitchen, holding a dead possum in his hand.

?I found this here dead possum in the garbage disposer,? Dusty said, his voice a low rumble. ?Where d?ya want me to put ?im, boss??

?Er,? Bloomheimer said. ?Just throw him in the garbage, or something, I don?t care.?

?Whatever floats yer boat,? Dusty said, his gray broom handle mustache swishing from side to side. He turned and left the room. Maria stared at the spot where Dusty was standing for about five minutes before turning to the others.

?It?s best not to ask,? Bloomheimer said. ?Anyway, that?s about it. I?ll put you on an easy shift tomorrow, unless our head trainer shows up. Either way, expect to work a bit tomorrow. I?ll see you later, Ms. Castaneda.?

?Yeah, goodbye,? Maria said, walking out of Chez Merde. ?God, what a bunch of freaks.? Maria stumbled over to the bus station, and waited for the bus. After a couple of minutes, the bus came, and she got on. She sat down in the same seat she?d used before, and looked out the window. The sun was already going down.

?I could?ve sworn that I hadn?t been there that long,? Maria muttered. As the bus drove away, she thought she saw someone that she recognized out of the corner of her eye, but she disregarded it.

Later, Vincent came walking up the stairs of Memoria. His head was aching, his sides hurt, and his legs were tired, but he was certain that he?d got the job. And this time he?d work as hard as he could to actually hold it. He smiled to himself as he took out his key, opened the apartment door, and walked inside the room. As he closed the door, Maria emerged from the bathroom, clad in nothing but a towel.

?Christ!? Vincent said, shielding his eyes. ?How about a little warning before you prance around like that?? Maria rolled her eyes at him.

?I didn?t know you?d be coming home right at that moment, idiot,? she said. She went back into the bathroom for a few moments.

?Why are you taking another shower again, anyway?? Vincent asked. ?Didn?t you take one this morning??

?What?? Maria yelled.

?Never mind,? Vincent answered. ?Who cares about you, anyway? I got the job that I wanted! I?ll be pulling my weight around here no problem, while you?ll be stuck in Nowheresville for the foreseeable future.? Maria then walked out of the bathroom tying a bathrobe around her waist, and with a pair of pink slippers on her feet.

?You just keep thinking that,? Maria said. ?I might surprise you by the end of the month. And it?ll be great to see the stupid look on your face when I come up with the rent money, though I don?t know how any look you give could possibly be dumber than the one you usually have on.?

?Very nice,? Vincent sniffed. ?Even your insults can?t ruin my good day. I went through hell getting this job, but by god, I earned it. That?s more than you can say, even you do somehow come up with the money.? Vincent and Maria both turned their backs to each other and went into their respective rooms. Maria had some food waiting for her in her room, and Vincent had bought some fast food. They both lay down upon their beds to rest up and eat.

?I?ll show her,? Vincent said to himself. ?I?ll become a famous journalist and put her to shame. I?ll make enough money to move out of this dump, and she?ll be absolutely dumbfounded. It?ll be great.?

?I?ll show him,? Maria whispered to herself. ?I?ll work harder than I?ve ever worked in my life. I?ll climb the ladder, and I?ll keep searching for the perfect job to utilize my skills. Someday, I?ll be richer than I imagined in my wildest dreams, and I know I won?t be above shoving it in his stupid face. It?ll be wonderful.?

Maria and Vincent laughed to themselves, and fell asleep.