To Understand Love

Hello again! I’m back with the next chapter. I hope this doesn’t upset anyone, but I don’t intend for this story to evolve into a full blown romance from the very beginning. These things take time, and I’m the sort of writer where character development is an essential ingredient as well as lots of details to give you a visual picture of what’s going on. I hope I’m living up to my own high standards. And thanks so much for the reviews! I appreciate it!

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Disclaimer: I don’t own DBZ or Jägermeister.

Chapter 2

Forty five minutes. Forty five fucking minutes. Forty five minutes and Trunks is already on the path to complete oblivion and I’m the one who has to witness his descent into debauchery and antipathy towards the general public. Once again, I find myself asking the question, what the hell was I thinking when I agreed to come along? Especially since I knew that this was what was going to happen. The whole situation agitates me and Trunks…Trunks pisses me off.

Growling under my breath, I watch as he smirks at some frilled up tart who looks like she could be a street walker or a whore. She’s all over him, pushing her almost completely exposed bosom against his arm while he just laughs, and laughs, and laughs. And the one person he said he wanted to spend time with, who he wanted to go out with, is completely ignored. I don’t doubt for a second that he wouldn’t even miss me should I just get up from my table and walk away, leaving him to his own sordid tastes and perverse appetites. However, I can’t just leave him. My ridiculous honor code won’t allow for me to leave when, at some point during the night, his judgment will be completely eroded and he’ll need somebody to make sure he doesn’t do something entirely irrational and dangerous. That’s what it feels like I’ve become to him: his god-fucking babysitter. And I’m stupid enough to have allowed for this to have happened in the first place.

Running my hands through my hair, messing up the gelled spikes I put in before I left to come to this…this hellhole, I let out a deep breath through my nostrils and lean against the wall. I can see the smoke from the numerous cigarette smoking patrons swirl against the bright lights that contrast with darkness of the walls and booths. It’s enough to make me want to gag and vomit, the stench of decay and corruption mixed in with the repugnant smoke. Not for the first time, I wonder what the appeal of coming to these places is for Trunks. He’s never lacked for companionship or popularity, so why he thinks he needs to fill his body with chemicals and stick his manhood into some sluttish girl makes absolutely no sense to me. If anything, it should be the opposite. It should be me who’s destroying themselves for the benefit of god knows what. Simply because according to Trunks’s standards, I’m lacking for just about everything.

So why are we so different? Not for the first time, I wonder what it is that seems to be driving the two of us apart. At least, that’s how I feel at any rate. Trunks just seems to be oblivious, or maybe he’s in denial. He’s never been one to face up to reality, and the truth is, he’s never really had to except for the few times when we were growing up where Vegeta would pound some sense into his thick head.

Maybe it’s because I’m growing older and I’m maturing because I have to. I’m not really the innocent, naïve chibi that I used to be, who would blindly follow Trunks into whatever scheme he had concocted inside his genius head. There is still a part of me that is innocent and only wants the simple things in life, such as good friends and companionship. However, living on my own, working for a living; those things have also changed and shaped me. I’ve had to become responsible, whereas Trunks…Trunks still acts like he’s a seventeen year old hothead when he’s almost twenty seven years old. And I’m starting to become disgusted with the path he’s decided to take.

Blinking my eyelids, I let out a stifled yawn as I once again find myself watching Trunks down his fifteenth or sixteenth shot of alcohol. He throws his head back and slams the drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly before he tilts his face forward and wipes the drops on his lips off with the back of his arm. Grinning like a drunk, he throws his arm around the slut he’s currently with and whispers something into her ear. I narrow my eyes when her hand slides down to his waist and it’s suddenly clear to me what Trunks has in mind. Swallowing down my anger and aggravation, it’s all I can do not to stand up and walk away. To stand up and leave him to suffer the consequences for his twisted behavior. Again, I wonder, is it even worth going out to places like this with him, all because I’m lonely and he’s my best friend? Or is he really even a friend to me anymore? I don’t know…and that thought makes me want to cry. What’s happening to us? Why can’t he see what he’s doing to himself…and what he’s making me feel by watching him act like a jackass?

I don’t know how long I sit at the table, lost in my own thoughts to the point where I have siphoned off the noise, the smells, and the filth of the club around me before reality rears its ugly head. Shaking my brain back awake, I glance over to where Trunks was a moment before, only to realize that he’s gone. Twisting my lips into a grimace, I try to ignore the feelings of hurt and humiliation, that the person who wanted me to come out with him has completely ditched me for some disgusting slut.

Standing up suddenly, I push away from the table I’ve been seated at for the last hour or so. I have no idea where he’s disappeared to, although it would be fairly simple for me to find him by locking onto his ki. However, I don’t particularly want to walk in on him fucking some whorish girl senseless. Inside my heart, I can feel this sense of conflict. I don’t want to leave him because I know that he’s on a downward spiral for the evening and I’m afraid of what could happen to him. Although, let’s be honest. Trunks is half-Saiyan, just like myself, so the chances of him getting seriously injured are slim to none. However, when he’s punch drunk off his ass, his reason goes out the window and there is no telling what sorts of situations he could end up in. On the other hand, he’s a grown adult and I shouldn’t have to spend my free time wasted by taking care of him.

Making my decision, I push my way out of the crowd that’s started to accumulate, ignoring the jeering looks and swearwords of pissed off patrons who don’t appreciate me thrusting my way out of the club. Stepping outside, I turn away and suddenly indulge in the desire to run away…to run away from what I just did to my friend and that place where corruption and extravagance seem to be so thickly entwined with one another.

After a few minutes, I stop at a street corner and let out a heaving breath. Just leaving that place clears my head, and the nausea I felt from the smoke and the stench of the bar vanishes without a trace. Straightening out my frame, I glance upward at the dark sky, trying to piece together why I left him there…why I abandoned him to his own devices. A sick feeling of guilt swirls through my stomach, but I push it to the side as I let my anger get the better of me.

What happened to looking out for me, watching my back so that I wouldn’t get attacked by the multitude of girls he said would be after me? Truthfully, I knew that what he said wasn’t going to happen. I mean, how can I, Son Goten, compare to the wealth and looks of one Trunks Briefs? Still, the fact that as soon as we walked into the club and claimed a table he left me in favor of the bar and the oblivion of Jägermeister angers me deeply. And it hurts. He was the one who wanted me to go out with him and he left me to fend for myself, acting like I wasn’t even there as soon as he started pouring liquid poison down his gullet.

Stepping off the curb, I cross against the stoplight and head towards my apartment. Thrusting my hands into my pants pockets, I let the summer heat and humidity absorb into my skin, pulling out the smells of the bar lingering on my clothes and hair. I’ll have to take another shower as soon as I get back. The last thing I want is to smell like an ash tray when I slide into my bed, reminding me that I just left Trunks to fend for himself.

It doesn’t take long before I’m at the door of my apartment. Taking out my key, I guide into the lock and pull the door open. It only feels like seconds ago, I was just leaving to go out with my friend as a way to relieve some of my own loneliness. And here I am, back again and just as lonely as I was to begin with. And on top of everything else, I feel guilty because I walked away without telling him where I was going, even though it shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter, because he did the same to me. But it does matter and that sense of wanting to cry almost overwhelms me.

Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not an overly sentimental or emotional guy, but when it comes to Trunks, my normal responses to the world seem to have the nasty habit of going out the window. It’s just that I’ve know him for so long and we’ve been together through so much, it’s hard not to have the deep emotional connection I share with him. Or should I say, shared with him. Lately, it seems like he’s so caught up in the petty trivialities of his own life that mine doesn’t matter, except for when he wants some sort of companionship to remind him of what it was we once had as kids. However, we aren’t kids anymore, and even though I often wish things could be that simple again, the life of an adult is never simplistic. It’s complicated and murky, with no clear delineations except for the fact that we all try to strive to find ourselves and what it is we were meant to fulfill.

Maybe that’s the reason Trunks has become so enamored of getting wasted. I mean, his life has been mapped out since he was a baby. There never was a time when he was given the chance to explore his potential or any of the myriad of possibilities waiting for him. And even though my life growing up wasn’t easy and I had to work for the progress I’ve made in it, I was never set in a path that I had to fulfill. I was never expected to become something that perhaps, I didn’t want to become. I’ve always been just Goten. Pure, stupid Goten and for the most part, I’ve been happy with the way my life has been shaping. I’ve been happy except for this feeling that I’m losing the one friend who I thought understood me. I’m losing him to his own private demons and I don’t know how I can help, or even if he would let me. Let’s face it: if someone doesn’t think there is a problem to begin with, how could anyone hope to help them?

Shaking off my deep thoughts, I slowly shut the door to my apartment and let my eyes adjust to the darkness. I can’t let myself get swept into this feeling of despair. I can’t, but no matter how much I try to will myself into thinking that I did the right thing, I only feel like I’ve let him down.

Blinking away that stupid moisture building behind my eyelids, I stumble towards the bathroom and close myself inside, finally turning on a light so that I don’t end up crashing into something. Taking a good look at myself, I frown remembering my early thoughts before I had left to go the club. I’m not worth him…even though I know that isn’t true.

Turning on the shower, I strip out of my clothes and step inside before the water heats up, letting the cold temperature bite into my skin. Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I bend forward and put my forehead against the shower wall, feeling the water as it soaks into my hair and drips down my back and shoulders.

“God Goten…you fucking left him.”

And then I just let it out.

&&&

I can hear my alarm ringing. I can hear it, but I don’t want to move out of the nest of sheets wrapped around my body. To say that I slept well last night would be the understatement of the century. To say that I slept like shit would be the more accurate of the two.

Groaning, I shift under my sheets and then slowly sit up, blinking away the grogginess of sleep, or lack thereof. Turning my head towards the obnoxious sound, I notice the lateness of the hour. It’s already well past one o’clock in the afternoon, which means that my alarm has been ringing for the last two hours. I pity my next door neighbor, but then I shrug that thought off as I peel away the top sheet and slide out of my bed, rubbing my eyes as I make my way over to my damned alarm clock.

Turning it off, I stupidly walk over to the doorway. Leaning against the frame, I wonder about Trunks….Trunks.

Trunks!

It’s as if my tiredness due to lack of sleep suddenly disappears, the intensity to find out if he’s okay taking over my lack of motivation. Running half-naked out of my room, I stumble over one of my discarded shoes from last night and reach my kitchen. Grabbing the phone, I dial his cell and pray to God that he answers it. I have to…no, I need to find out if he’s okay. That he didn’t end up dead or drugged somewhere.

Nervously, I tap my foot against the cool linoleum floor as I wait for him to pick up. I hear a click and my heart starts racing, hoping that he’s answering the phone.

“Hi, you’ve reached Trunks…”

“Trunks!” I shout into the phone. “Trunks, thank god you’re o…”

“Leave a message at the beep, and maybe I’ll get back to you if I think it’s worth my time. But if you aren’t a hot, single chick, the chances of that happening are zero. Bye!”

His voice mail. His god damned voice mail. Squeezing the phone in my hand, I pinch my lips into a tight line as I wait for the beep so that I can leave him a message. As soon as I hear it, I start talking.

“Trunks, this is Goten. Please, as soon as you get this message, give me a call. I….hope everything is okay. Just please, please call me!”

With that said, I hang up my phone and then slowly make my way to the futon. Flopping onto it, my sudden burst of energy disappears. Slouching sideways, I stare out my front window and frown, trying to get a handle on my emotions.

It’s just that…I’ve never left him before. I’ve never felt so upset with him that I just left him to make a complete ass of himself or worse. But I did last night, and some of the thoughts that kept me awake return full force, flooding my brain with unwelcome questions as to why I would do such a thing in the first place.

Maybe you think that I’m taking this thing a little too far. I mean, he made his choice to ditch me so he could have sex with some sleeze. That should have given me the permission to leave him as well since he obviously had forgotten about me. However, I’ve always been the friend to watch out for him because I understand him. Or at least, I used to understand him. And I feel like I’ve betrayed him somehow by walking away and leaving him to his own devices in his inebriated condition.

Rubbing my forehead with my hand, I let out a deep sigh. The truth is, I was jealous. I was jealous that he picked someone else out in favor of spending time with me, even when I hadn’t really wanted to go the club in the first place. And since the only thing Trunks ever does at clubs is get plastered, it should have been obvious from the beginning that he would have separated himself away from his loser friend who acts responsible and doesn’t drink. I mean, what’s the fun of going out to get drunk with a buddy if said buddy doesn’t want to get drunk? I can’t really blame him for taking off with that girl. It’s stupid to be jealous over something that had nothing to do with me and everything to do with Trunks and his fixation with forgetting about reality. Even though I realize this, it doesn’t make me feel any better or get rid of my feelings of resentment.

“Aw fuck it!” I grunt and bury my face in my hands.

I’ve got to stop fixating on him. But still…it’s difficult, especially since this isn’t the first time in recent history that I’ve wondered about the growing separation between Trunks and myself. It doesn’t help matters that he can’t seem to realize what seems so obvious to me.

Straightening up on my futon mattress, I make a decision to get ready for the rest of my wasted day while I wait to hear for some sign of Trunks. Standing up, I wander back into my bedroom and half-heartedly pull a pair of jeans and a T-shirt out of my disorganized closet. Putting on my clothes, I pad barefoot out into the kitchen and rummage through my refrigerator, putting together something to eat to appease my Saiyan appetite.

And then I find myself back on the futon, this time with the phone handy.

I don’t know how many hours I sit on my damned futon. I don’t know how many times I call and leave messages on his phone. All I get is nothing. Maybe he’s pissed and now he’s ignoring me. It wouldn’t be the first time where we’ve gotten in a fight about something ridiculous. Still, it rankles me that he won’t answer his phone or call me back to at least let me know that he’s okay. If I could, I would lock onto his ki and figure out where the hell he decided to hole up to recover from his hangover, but I can’t sense it because he’s probably passed out somewhere.

Laying my head against the cushions, I close my eyes. With nothing else to do to occupy my time while I wait to hear from Trunks, my lack of sleep catches up with me. Slowly, I pass out of the waking world, drifting along on a sea of half-formed dreams. All of them seem to center around Trunks, but it’s just a vague sensation that he’s there amongst that strange images and colors that shift through my brain.

Suddenly, I snap back to awareness. Looking around my apartment, I realize that the day has slipped past and it’s already nighttime. Turning around, I glance at my microwave clock and realize that it’s almost twenty four hours since I last saw Trunks. Seeing that my answering machine isn’t blinking, I know that he hasn’t called me back. Growling in frustration, I pick up the phone next to me and decide to try and reach him one last time before I give into desperation and call Capsule Corporation. The thought of talking to Bulma or Vegeta about leaving Trunks when he was smashed makes butterflies flutter in my gut. I can just imagine how either one of them would act if they knew. Although the truth is, they’re probably already aware how much their son spends his time hanging out at clubs and picking up girls.

Dialing his number by memory, I hear the phone ring once, twice, three times when a low and pained sounding voice whispers across the receiver into my ear.

“Hello?”

“Trunks?”

“Who else would it be? It’s my fucking cell phone, moron.”

I pause on the phone, letting his voice sink into my head along with a mixture of feelings ranging from relief all the way back to anger.

“You don’t have to call me names.” I retort back, not even sure if he knows that it’s me on the other end.

“Keep it down chibi. My head…my head is pounding and I think I’m going to be sick.”

His head hurts? He thinks he’s going to be sick? Slowly, I can feel rage and hurt start to seep into my heart. I spent all last night worrying about him because I had left him and all he cares about his nursing is stupid hangover? I am definitely not pleased with his response.

“Listen Trunks. I don’t care if you feel sick or you have a headache. That’s what you get for getting trashed at the club. Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? Do you?” I yell into the phone, forgetting briefly my guilt in leaving him there by himself.

“Calm down chibi! What the hell is your problem? I’m a big boy and I can take care of myself. And what should it matter? If you were that worried about me, you wouldn’t have taken off like you did.”

Feeling my mouth hang open, I shut it with an audible click and let out a short burst of air from my nostrils. He is partially correct. I shouldn’t have…I shouldn’t have left him. But then again, he’s partially wrong. He left me first.

“Chibi, you still there?” I hear his voice whisper over the telephone.

“Yeah,” I reply after a few seconds.

“Why’d you leave me? Why’d you take off?”

I know he isn’t feeling well, but there’s this tone in his voice that I’ve never heard before. Like he’s hurting deep down inside and it’s slowly coming up to the surface. Swallowing uncomfortably, I wonder how he even realized I was gone. Maybe he wasn’t as drunk as I had thought he was. Maybe, he hadn’t left to have sex with that girl and I had jumped to all the wrong conclusions. Carefully thinking of how to phrase my answer, I wait a few seconds before replying.

“I…I thought you took off with that girl who was rubbing up and down on you and I got angry. So I left.”

“Oh.”

Taken aback slightly that all he tells me is ‘Oh,’ I shake my head in shock and then narrow my eyebrows together in a sudden burst of anger.

“Oh? Is that all you have to say? You aren’t even going to explain to me where it was you disappeared? Well answer me this, Trunks. If my leaving upset you so much, maybe you should have thought how your disappearance made me feel. I mean, I didn’t even want to go to the club in the first place, but I went because you wanted to go and you said you wanted to spend time with me. Maybe it hasn’t occurred to you, but I don’t like feeling as if I’m the third wheel when you decide to go out and forget about life in the real world.”

There’s another long pause before I hear Trunks take in a sharp breath.

“Fuck Goten, you sound like your jealous. Do you know how juvenile you’re acting? Of course I wanted to hang out with you, but what fun is it when all you do is sulk in the corner like some depressed girl? It’s disgusting.”

I can’t take it anymore. His words sting and the fact that he’s throwing my anger and my concern back in my face pisses me off like nothing else has.

“What the hell are you saying? If you’re so embarrassed, why the fuck do you want me to go along with you when you decide to get hammered? You make me so angry sometimes Trunks! You really do, and I don’t even understand it. I’m not one to get angry in the first place, but you…you take it to a whole other level and you don’t even realize it. I stopped liking the whole getting wasted shit when I figured out it wasn’t fun to wake up not remembering what it was that I did. And then I realized I wasn’t going to get anywhere if I kept acting like a dumb high school student. Unlike some people, I can’t just live off free handouts from mommy and daddy. I have…”

He interrupts me before I can finish my outburst.

“You have what Goten? What exactly do you have? You live in a shit hole apartment. You work full time at a job you hate. And you’re alone. You don’t have a girlfriend, you don’t socialize, and you act like you’re mightier than God. Well, I’ve got news for you. Until you realize how pathetic you really are, don’t get on your high and mighty horse in front of me. You’re nothing Goten.”

I can’t believe he just said that. We’ve had plenty of fights in the past, but never, not once, has he ever pulled the comment that I am nothing. I can already feel a lump starting to form in the back of my throat. My anger is gone, only to be replaced by shame and humiliation. However, I’m not going to let him know that he’s won this battle, even if his comments resonate with some of my own inadequacy compared to him. Taking a deep breath, I bite my lip and then loosen my grip on the phone before replying.

“That isn’t true Trunks. I’m not nothing. I’m something and somebody, and one day, I hope you realize it too.”

For the second time in twenty-four hours, I turn the phone off before he can get the last word in. Hanging up the phone, I back away slowly and run the entire horrible conversation through my head. Slumping against my kitchen counter, I cross my arms over my chest and shiver involuntarily.

I’ve never…been apart from Trunks. I’m suddenly afraid that this fight, which has been brewing for a while, is the end of our friendship and that makes me feel sick to my stomach. I don't understand why he has to be such an ass. And I can’t believe that he thinks I’m nothing. But considering all of that, I can’t believe he would wish to give up on our relationship, one that we’ve had since I was first born. The more I think about it, the more I’m afraid that I messed it up. That it’s my fault we’re in such a shitty situation.

God Goten, you really fucked up.

With that thought in my head, I slump to the kitchen floor and cry.

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Yeah, the tone is a little bit angsty, but it’s going to be rough and rocky ride for Goten and Trunks. After all, Goten said that finding love is never easy and fixing a changing relationship can be a difficult experience. I hope you still are enjoying it. Please leave me a review if you would like!