Burnt Out

We were young then, restless and wild. I wanted everything the world could hold, I wanted to see everything my eyes could see. 

So what happened, I wonder idly, tapping my finger lightly on the sill. There was nothing I wanted to do or find; there could be no greater thrill than Deathscythe. A laugh forced itself on me. Burnt out of life at 22. 

Burnt all out of life... I tapped my finger more insistently. Surely there had to be something I wanted to do. Surely. Six years had taught me nothing save loss. 

Loss? But no one died... How can there be loss? It wasn't physical or literal; yet I had lost the ones I had used to so proudly call 'my comrades'. Arrogance and pride on my part, for who in their right mind would consider associating with me? I was who I was, definitely no more, but sometimes less.

Burnt out... I needed a thrill. I needed something to make it worth living. My one joy had been taken away from me; I was left alone again. A minute shrug. 

It didn't matter. I could be as jaded as I wanted to be and no one would know or care. My finger abruptly stopped drumming on the sill, and reached up to touch my face. The skin was smooth, I'd taken a shower only a little while ago. I traced the features, feeling insignificance and loss.

A shrill beeping sound resonated throughout the room, and I glanced at the vidphone. It beeped again. Resigned, I crossed the room and turned on audio only, flipping the screen up to see Quatre's worried face gazing out. He couldn't see me, nor my empty eyes.

"Duo?" He began uncertainly, hesitation a part of his manner as always. It was nice to know that some things didn't change. 

I realized the silence had been going on a little too long, so I spoke up, forcing my voice to be loud and cheerful. "Q! Wow, it's been so long since I've heard from you! I was just so surprised! How are ya, buddy?" 

I loathed the colloquialisms that my facade had to blurt, and in the sudden silence of my soul they felt like blasphemy. 

Quatre smiled at the screen, the look in his eyes warm and relaxed. A sudden thought occurred to him, and he straightened up in his chair. "Why isn't your vidscreen on?" 

So you won't have to see what's become of me, little Quatre. Something about his total inexperience with the world was endearing to me... 

Casually, I said, "Oh, no, mine's totally broken. Hilde's been bitching at me to get it fixed for *ages* but, no... I guess I'm just too damn lazy. Sorry." 

I could see him loosen up a little when he heard this, knowing that he couldn't be observed by me. "You're living with Hilde now?" His voice still had the same soft intonations, but there was something else there.

Lying wasn't the best choice, but he *couldn't* know where I was. And while Hilde wasn't publicly listed, she was be pretty easy to find. Lie for me? Please? 

I took a breath, a sharp intake of air. "Yeah... We're pretty good together, you know?" Now this was most likely the worst lie of all. Hilde had quite loudly told me to get the fuck out of her life, along with a few other choice sentiments and half a dozen bruises. I let her take it out on me. I deserved it.

Quatre frowned onscreen, and wrote something down on a notepad at his desk. I was curious, I leaned forward, nose almost touching the screen, trying to see what he had written.

It was no use. 

"So, Q, does this call have a purpose or you just kinda wanted to see if I'd turned into a French prostitute with webbed feet named Fifi(1)?" I chortled at the sad excuse for a joke. 

However, his eyes cleared momentarily and he smiled that golden, enigmatic smile of his again. "I couldn't find you anywhere I looked! Your number wasn't listed..." His voice took on a chastising tone. So. He avoided the question. That was never good. 

"Oi! Q, you think I want a hundred million rabid pacifists at my door, bitching at me to change my warlike ways and repent or burn in hell?" I answered him, pitching my voice just right.

"Well, you could have at least given me the number..." He grumbled, crossing his arms. "It's been nearly 5 years! I can't believe that the time has just gotten away from us... You should've told me where you lived."

Obviously, he still didn't know yet. My number was almost my only outside contact with the world, (I logged onto terminals, sometimes, they were old and slow, but permanently registered as 'Anonymous'.) and it was quite completely separated from my residence. It stayed the same, wherever I moved.

"I've been a busy man, Q. I've been doing a lot that I've always wanted to... Life just can't get anymore exciting!" Dear God. I buried my head in my hands, trying not to give in to the urge to hysterically giggle. How had I said that last sentence?

I decided to be blunt, now. Mincing would get nothing. "What exactly did you call me for, Q?"

A number of emotions flashed across his face, but I never claimed to be good at reading them. I just waited. 

"Well... Duo... I...We were wondering if you'd like to have a get together with just the five of us gundam pilots?" The last part of his sentence was hurried, like he'd been dreading asking, but he'd had to.

I shrugged, knowing he couldn't see the gesture. I wouldn't be wanted. I tilted my head to one side, again wasting the gesture. "Much as I'd love to, I've really got a lot to do... I'm just busy." An apologetic shrug which he couldn't see. 

"Duo!" He frowned. "You have to come. We've all missed you so much... Not seeing you in five years - ! I mean... How could you refuse? Oh...damn! I didn't mean it like that! I meant, we all want you to come. We love and miss you. You were a big part of the war, and we think that you deserve to enjoy it. So... why not come for a little reunion?"

"Look, Quatre, I've got some really pressing engagements-" I began, but he cut me off. 

"I'm sure Hilde wouldn't mind if you just came and visited for a while! Please, Duo... We miss you and care for you."

Inaudibly, I sighed. This was getting nowhere. I couldn't refuse without crushing him. 

"Fine, fine, you get it your way, little Q! Pushy, pushy..." I quietly groaned to myself. This reunion would the closest thing to hell on earth. 

Quatre smiled a brilliant smile, saying, "Alright! It'll be tomorrow, on L4. We can meet you at the port... Is it too soon - can you manage it?" 

He obviously had no idea where I lived. 

"Sure, Q. I'll be there around 1:00 PM. See you there?" I asked, hand on the 'End Call' button. 

"Ok!" He said, then began another sentence, but my hand had already terminated the message. Thank God. 

Reality hit me and I groaned again. How could I pretend, feeling like I was now. That had only been a short vidphone call, how could I fumble my way through a *reunion*? Alcohol, my brain decided, lots and lots of alcohol.

I grabbed a small bag from the floor of the closet and wiped the dust off of it. I had to pack. Toothbrush, toothpaste, books, cds, cd player, headphones, manga, pictures, brush, and a bunch other items were neatly stored in the bag, only thing left I needed was clothes. Taking a look at my closet, I wished I had things a little less... conspicuous. 

A few pairs of incredibly baggy pants went into the bag, as well as some some shirts, earrings, chokers, fingerless gloves, arm warmers, and the like all followed. I dressed as I saw fit. Besides, whenever I went dancing, everyone went crazy over the outfits. Shaking my head, I cynically wondered what anyone saw in me. A sarcastic laugh scraped me raw. All I was to people was my hair. My long, beautiful hair. Hair and an outfit.

I decided to wear my most conservative pants, ones that fit reasonably well, not insanely baggy but not too tight either. They *were* bondage pants, with a few straps criss-crossing in the back, but it didn't matter. I slipped them on, and grabbed a buckle-up vest I had laying around, putting that on as well. Black fingerless gloves, four earrings and two ear cuffs later, and I was ready. 

I did not look like Duo Maxwell. I smiled bitterly. They wouldn't be able to tell any difference in personality. What would it matter?

Walking out of the room softly, I went into my bedroom and laid on the bed, not sleepy but knowing I would need the rest. 

1) A joke between me and Meghan... Just something random I thought I'd insert in there.

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