Trowa had wandered through the unfamiliar streets in the drag, stumbling from the pain it took to walk. The lights from the bars and clubs blinded him, causing him to lose his sense of direction. He found a cheap motel and paid the 50 dollars for a room for the rest of the night. He fumbled with the doorknob and collapsed upon the rotting bed. He closed his eyes for a second and fell into a fatigued sleep.
He woke up as some light fell upon his eyelids. Looking at the digital clock on the bed stand, Trowa saw that it was two in the afternoon. He got out of bed, his muscles sore and crying out in pain.
Trowa turned the water on as hot as it would go and allowed the steaming water from the shower pour down his body, loosening the tight muscles. His thoughts wandered to Heero and what he might be doing right now. Pushing back the memories of the night before, Trowa dried himself on a not-so-clean towel. He fell on the bed again and readily fell to sleep.
This time when he woke up the sun had already set and the clock read 7:32 pm. He left the room and went back onto the streets, not sure where in the hell he was. He grabbed a bite to eat at a dingy restaurant, not actually tasting the greasy food he stuffed into his mouth. He paid the bill and wandered the streets a little longer.
***
Heero left the room to search for Trowa. He had sat in the room all day, hoping the other boy would return on his own. Finally he had given up when the clock had flashed 9:00 pm and he had decided he had better bring Trowa back on his own. He had flung on his coat and headed onto the streets.
***
Trowa had been wandering the streets for a few hours now, how many exactly he wasn’t sure. Finally he walked into a brightly lit club. He sat down on one of the bar stools and stared at the stained counter.
“Aren’t you a little young to be here?” The bartender asked Trowa, eyeing him with worried brown eyes. Trowa minutely shook his head and looked back at the counter.
“Don’t bother him Sahel,” a husky, male voice said on Trowa’s left, “If he wants to be here, let him. Right Lee?”
“Yeah,” another voice chimed in. Trowa looked up at the two new comers. One was large with bushy black hair and a beard and the other was smaller with tidy blond hair. Sahel’s eyes darted at the two men and he slowly walked away to accommodate some other customers.
“So,” said the larger man, “What are you up to?”
“…” Trowa just stared at them as they sat on either side of him.
“Kreig asked you a question,” said Lee angrily.
“No, its ok,” Kreig said, waving aside Lee’s comment, “He’s probably just shy. I like that.”
Trowa looked sharply at Kreig, his face still expressionless, but inside he was panicking. Now what had he gotten himself into? Looking around the bar, Trowa realized he had stumbled into a gay hangout. Great, he told himself exasperatedly, this is all I need.
“Why don’t you come with us…” Kreig’s voice trailed off, “What did you say your name was?”
“I didn’t say,” Trowa said indifferently.
“So, why don’t you tell us,” Lee said putting his hand on Trowa’s arm. Trowa stared at lee and shook of Lee’s grasp. Trowa stood up and started walking away.
“Don’t turn your back on me!” Kreig yelled, but Trowa just ignored him. Suddenly he felt a hand grip his shoulder and pull at him. Trowa took the arm and flipped Lee over his shoulder and onto the ground. The bar grew silent as Trowa felt Kreig grab him from behind, fingers digging into his arm. Trowa spun around and kicked the older man in the stomach. Kreig reeled back but soon he retaliated along with Lee who grabbed Trowa from behind. Both of their combined strengths overpowered Trowa as they drug him through the bar and out through a back door. Try as he might, Trowa could not throw them off.
***
Heero had been searching for Trowa forever it seemed. One more place, he told himself, then I’ll rest for the night. Not that I deserve it, he added sadly. Looking at a brightly lit sign, Heero entered a bar called “The Purple Couch”. He walked in and looked around: no sign of Trowa.
Sighing, Heero decided to get a drink and think things over for a second. The bartender walked over to where Heero was sitting.
“I would leave if I were you,” he told Heero. Heero looked up at him, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, another kid your age was just in here. A couple of guys tried to take him away,” Heero’s heart beat wildly, could he mean Trowa? “He gave the guys quite a fight, which was surprising because he didn’t look that strong. But finally the two guys drug him out the back.”
Heero looked at the door to which the bartender pointed. He had to mean Trowa, he just had to.
“What did he look like?” Heero asked, leaning forward to hear better.
“He had a black turtleneck, jeans, a black jacket… um, brown hair and green eyes… hey!” The bartender watched as this other kid bolted out the back door of the gay bar. Weird, Sahel told himself.
Heero raced out the door and into the alleyway. Hopefully it hadn’t been too long since they had taken Trowa.
“Oof!” Heero heard to his left, “He bit me Kreig! He bit me!”
***
To Be Continued…