How Tracey Thinks
I found this collecting dust in the hard drive of the computer by the window, so I dusted it off, polished it up, and copyed it into here. It's a little fragment of what was probably once going to be a fic, but didn't quite end up as such. States somewhere it's in Europe. But it isn't. Well, it is, but it's not. My Ragette and Jones stuff share the same universe, but it isn't this one. Parallel, maybe. Set in Tracey's point of view, which I find greatly amusing, because his thought processes on ocassion remind me of Oz from Buffy (the episode where Buffy got the aspect of the demon and could read minds). I think I'd just read something by Terry Pratchett...
Everything starts somewhere, although many physists disagree. So to be correct, this story should start with how everything started; but that would not be relevant. So instead it starts here.
It’s dark. No light gets in and it’s blacker than pitch. Not that anyone knows what pitch is or why it’s so very black. But imagine it for a moment, if you can. Okay, good. Now, there is a soft click and a lightbulb turns on. Orange and purple lighting from a sunset and the yellow-white of flurocsents also floods in, washing over the items in the fridge. Not that there is very much for them to wash over really, as it was grocery day yesterday but someone “forgot” and went to the pub instead. A hand reaches in and a can of cola is taken out. There is a slow wooshing noise and another click. It’s dark again.
Of course, this isn’t very relavent either. But, from now on it will be. I promise.
I lean against the bench, and open my can of cola. Really, I shouldn’t be drinking this as it is rightfully Mano’s, but as he blew off grocery shopping to get drunk and play strip poker, I think I can finish it guilt free. And that, my friends, that about describes how Mano and my relationship works. Besides, I’ve only just gotten home and I’m tired and thirsty and the tap isn’t working. And Mano used the last of the milk in his coffee.
My name is Tracey- yes, I know, it’s considered a girls name these days. I thought so too, until Mano told me it means “brave” in which case I decided I could live with it. I’m 6” exactly and I’ve got green eyes and brown hair. To tell you the truth, I’m not entirely sure why this matters, but it is the kind of thing people always say when they’re introducing themselves. I’m twenty-one as of last Tuesday, and I’m currently living in a high-rise apartment in a little known place in Europe called Jarra. We’ve got a wonderful view out our living room window; you can see all the way across the city and then out a mile or two across the ocean. It looks amazing at sunset when it’s bathed in orange and gold and red and purple with the ocean glowing blue in the distance with sun-stained clouds on the horizon. Ah, yes, I’m currently rooming with another guy. Mano Jeanette is his name. I was amazed when he first contacted me about my advert on the message board; I could hardly believe the price he was asking for for this place. Only ninety dollars a fortnight! Of course, then I learnt why- he’s rich. Well, not him personally, but more his siblings. And in their family, money just spreads itself out. I should have known that to begin with, really. The guy’s a dance teacher. I took his classes once, every Wednesday and Friday from five to seven, for a semester.
There’s a bowl of fruit on the table which wasn’t there when I went out this morning. Pineapples and mangoes and pasionfruits mostly, which leads me to believe that Kailen and Wolfgang came to visit again today. Mano is Wolfgang’s adopted brother and Kailen is Wolfgang’s boyfriend. Oh, I forgot to mention that. Mano is adopted. As are all his siblings, except for Wolfgang who was the miracle child of their mother. And his sister Lisa. She is actually related to him; his twin sister. It’s a very… interesting story, his life.
In fact, judging from the noises I can hear from the spare bedroom, they haven’t left.
Everything starts somewhere, although many physists disagree. So to be correct, this story should start with how everything started; but that would not be relevant. So instead it starts here.
It’s dark. No light gets in and it’s blacker than pitch. Not that anyone knows what pitch is or why it’s so very black. But imagine it for a moment, if you can. Okay, good. Now, there is a soft click and a lightbulb turns on. Orange and purple lighting from a sunset and the yellow-white of flurocsents also floods in, washing over the items in the fridge. Not that there is very much for them to wash over really, as it was grocery day yesterday but someone “forgot” and went to the pub instead. A hand reaches in and a can of cola is taken out. There is a slow wooshing noise and another click. It’s dark again.
Of course, this isn’t very relavent either. But, from now on it will be. I promise.
I lean against the bench, and open my can of cola. Really, I shouldn’t be drinking this as it is rightfully Mano’s, but as he blew off grocery shopping to get drunk and play strip poker, I think I can finish it guilt free. And that, my friends, that about describes how Mano and my relationship works. Besides, I’ve only just gotten home and I’m tired and thirsty and the tap isn’t working. And Mano used the last of the milk in his coffee.
My name is Tracey- yes, I know, it’s considered a girls name these days. I thought so too, until Mano told me it means “brave” in which case I decided I could live with it. I’m 6” exactly and I’ve got green eyes and brown hair. To tell you the truth, I’m not entirely sure why this matters, but it is the kind of thing people always say when they’re introducing themselves. I’m twenty-one as of last Tuesday, and I’m currently living in a high-rise apartment in a little known place in Europe called Jarra. We’ve got a wonderful view out our living room window; you can see all the way across the city and then out a mile or two across the ocean. It looks amazing at sunset when it’s bathed in orange and gold and red and purple with the ocean glowing blue in the distance with sun-stained clouds on the horizon. Ah, yes, I’m currently rooming with another guy. Mano Jeanette is his name. I was amazed when he first contacted me about my advert on the message board; I could hardly believe the price he was asking for for this place. Only ninety dollars a fortnight! Of course, then I learnt why- he’s rich. Well, not him personally, but more his siblings. And in their family, money just spreads itself out. I should have known that to begin with, really. The guy’s a dance teacher. I took his classes once, every Wednesday and Friday from five to seven, for a semester.
There’s a bowl of fruit on the table which wasn’t there when I went out this morning. Pineapples and mangoes and pasionfruits mostly, which leads me to believe that Kailen and Wolfgang came to visit again today. Mano is Wolfgang’s adopted brother and Kailen is Wolfgang’s boyfriend. Oh, I forgot to mention that. Mano is adopted. As are all his siblings, except for Wolfgang who was the miracle child of their mother. And his sister Lisa. She is actually related to him; his twin sister. It’s a very… interesting story, his life.
In fact, judging from the noises I can hear from the spare bedroom, they haven’t left.