The brown haired twelve-year-old walked quickly out of the house, an angry expression on his face.   Why was it always about Zeana? What’s so special about her?  Why couldn’t anyone else see what a spoiled brat his twin sister was?

She was adored by everyone, and acted special, as if she were the best person on the planet of Gaia. She got attention all of the time from their mother because of all the clubs, plays, and community things she participated in.  She waved around her above the bar report card every semester.  It made him sick.  No one ever gave him recognition for anything he did.  He won the toughest teen race on the highest level of racetracks and no one paid attention.

Everyone always gasped at his sister’s grades; it wasn’t as if he didn’t get good grades as well.
“No,” he thought resentfully, “they like her over me because she kisses ass all of the time, and has no personality or life.”

Zeana made her way out the door happily, breathing in the cool air. “I love Sundays,” she said smiling.

Zander said nothing, keeping his grim attitude. He watched his mother, Krysta, come out of the door.  Her brown hair whipped softly in the breeze. The resemblance between her and her son was obvious. Both of them had the same eye color and face structure. The only traits that separated the two were traits of gender, and their hair. (Zander’s was a few shades darker)

“All right, Zeana,” Krysta beamed, “Let’s go to that rehearsal.”

 She turned for a moment toward her son, “I expect you to stay here, Zander. No more adventures to the city or that dreadful race track.” He had scared her half to death when she saw him at that race; he could’ve been killed.
She shook her head and sighed, “Please, son, don’t give me any more gray hairs today.”

As soon as her back turned, he mimicked her under his breath. He knew it was childish, but he was beyond caring.  He was growing more and more tired with the image everyone had of him.  He wasn’t some dumb-ass screw up; he just wanted a little exhilaration, something to escape his depressing humdrum life.

The girls waved at him as the small transport made its way through the clearing of trees, Zeana more out of jeer than his mom. He didn’t bother to wave back, feeling no enthusiasm to do so.

As soon as the car turned southwest, he made his way to the end of the walk and kept walking. There was no way he was going to let the previous little lecture keep him from having the only fun he could have in his life.  He was surprised she wasn’t more firm, but then the neighbors next to them were watching.  He smirked; there were advantages to having neighbors a block away.
 
 

Turning north, he started the 5-mile run to the city, happily leaving the country-like neighborhood behind.

Duo grinned lucidly as he stared at the small glass tumbler that was placed in front of him. He’d been dared to drink as much as he could. If he had counted correctly, this would be his twentieth scotch in a row and he was still packing them away. In the background Wufei stared at the American pilot with a mixture of reverence and disgust. He couldn’t believe that the boy would utterly humiliate himself in that way. But somehow it seemed like something he would do.

There was a movement off to his left Wufei looked over to find a stoic faced Herro staring at his partner with what for him, would constitute to open-mouthed shock. Wufei grinned over to the Wing pilot and spoke.

"So what do you think? This has to be one of the most moronic things that the braided boy has ever pulled. I say he takes about three more drinks and then he's out cold-unconscious."

"Hn"

"Herro..."

"Hn?"

"You need to get a vocabulary. I don't think it's possible to get around today by speaking two letters, however, you seem to make it work rather well..."

"Wufei?"

"Hm?"

"Shut up!"

The Chinese pilot smiled at the minor accomplishment of making Herro talk. He grinned and continued to watch Duo make a complete fool of himself.

Quatre looked around the club and sighed. Trowa wasn't here yet. He supposed that the Heavy-arms pilot would appear in his own time. The little blue-eyed blonde sighed with discontentment. There was the sound of a door opening in the background and three more patrons came in. They were certainly an interesting looking bunch. The tallest of the three was black haired with purple bangs and eyes that would match and easily beat Herro's in intensity. The second was a woman that looked like a water sprite, however a water sprite in a torn up black tank top that barely covered her ribs, a pair of pants that had seen better days and -blue- hair that reached well past her knees. Quatre blinked. The third person in the party was a purple haired woman with green eyes and a grin that just screamed mischief.

When the blue haired woman with the odd bangs winked at him he turned and stared at something else. He found himself watching Duo who was slowly and methodically downing scotch like it was nothing at all.

"Ni DUO!"

The Deathscythe pilot looked over and grinned a drunken grin.

"Huh?"

Quatre's eyebrows were knitted together in concern. "You'd better lay off the scotch man! You're going to have such a hangover!"

Duo waved his hand in dismissal. "It's nothin'!" At which point he proceeded to down another glass.

Quatre sighed and stared out into the sparsely populated dance floor. The club they had chosen to attend that evening was hazy and dim. It was hot too, almost unbearably so. The blonde sighed. There was the smell of drugs and sex in the air, as well as moving bodies. He didn't think he liked the combination much. Then the door opened again. He looked over and found someone new coming in, a dark haired, very disgruntled looking young man.

Zander sighed and breathed deeply of the pot smoke and only-God-knew-what-else. He was tired after his run, and he was hot. The humid atmosphere of the club was almost too much at that moment. However, he had worked hard getting there so he wouldn't give up then. He walked in with as much composure as he could find.

Duo stared glassy eyed at the woman sitting across from him, calmly sipping her drink, with a man's hand about her waist. Duo guessed the dark haired boy with the purple bangs to be her escort for the evening. He couldn't help but stare at all her hair. He finally chuckled to himself and looked to her.

"Y'know lady, your hair..."

The woman looked up with eyes the color of the aquamarine ocean. "Yeah? What about my hair?"

Duo contemplated his own braid swinging over his shoulder and then grinned at her.

"Your hair is waaaaaay longer than mine."

 The woman nodded. "Yeah. That it would be."

Duo went on conversationally. "Yeah, I've been growing it since I was lil'."

She nodded. The boy across from her looked her up and down carefully. "You fly in the races don't you?"

Across the room Zander perked up. He heard the races being discussed. It was one of his favorite pastimes. He would have to go over and investigate.

Duo grinned at her nod. He noted the boy coming over from the entrance to the club and decided to pay him no heed.

"I bet I could kick your ass in a race!"

The woman looked mildly offended and then amused.

"Really?"

Her purple haired friend cut in, her green eyes flashing. "What say we make it a wager?"

Duo looked thoughtful. In the background Herro and Wufei began to look uneasy. Quatre couldn't figure out why he suddenly had an impending feeling of doom.

"I agree to that. State your terms!"

The purple haired woman grinned. "All-righty. If Kuri here takes you on....hmmm, what should the prize be?"

The boy with the purple bangs and his hand around the blue haired girls' waist grinned. "If she wins they star in the fashion show that you bribed her into. She looses she goes and he and his friends get free passes. However, he looses he and his friends star in the show."

The purple haired woman grinned with delight. "Y'know VT, sometimes you really are eeeeeevil!"

The e in evil was punctuated by a really high note in her voice. The blue haired woman smiled. There was the sound of someone clearing their throat. The whole group looked over to find Zander standing there.

"Uh, hi!"

They all nodded. Duo grinned. "Hi-O!"

"I heard the wager, mind if I brake in?"

All concerned shook their heads. Zander continued. "I'm the current champion at the track; and I want in on the race too. I'll join in the penalty if either of you looses."

The terms seemed to be fair. They all nodded and shook hands.

Duo stared ahead, his eyes slightly crossed. "Ummmm....question!"

Everyone turned. Duo grinned rather sheepishly. "Can we wait 'till tomorrow when I'm sober? I'm so drunk right now I can't see straight."

The betting parties nodded. When the group of oddly colored people had left the rest of the Gundam pilots descended upon Duo with Hell in their eyes. Wufei was the first one to speak, in his deadly, cool tone of voice.

"What in the name of the tortured screaming souls damned to hell did you just get us into?"

Duo stared at Wufei rather helplessly, shrugged, smiled half-heartedly and said in a small voice,

"Possibly a modeling run?"

For a moment there was dead silence. The door opened and Trowa stepped in looking for his friends just in time to hear Wufei scream in a high soprano voice,

"WHAAAAAAAT?!!!"

Trowa looked from one person to the next in silent confusion.  “What’s going on?” he asked suspiciously.

Heero looked over at the boy and through clenched teeth managed to answer the question, “This drunken imbecile just made a bet that will force us into a modeling show.”

Quatre watched the aggression rise in his normally quiet and calm friend.  If it hadn’t been for Trowa’s self-control, he was certain that Duo would be lying dead on the cantina floor.

“All right, one of you tell me what happened and don’t leave a single thing out.”

Zander watched as he left with the other blond haired, blue eyed boy. Now that the beginning excitement of the race leveled a bit, he started to see some of the strange characteristics of the teens.  The boy beside him had braided hair past his ass with funky bangs that spiked up all about his head, as if defying gravity. All of their bangs were like that!  What kind of gel did they use?  One had a hairstyle that looked extremely painful; a braid tightly connected to his skull. The boy who had just come in had the strangest style, ¾ of his hair was brushed forward, sticking out over his face to the left side.

Trowa walked over to the dark-haired boy, a grim expression on his face. “You’re good at this, right?”

Zander folded his arms, “I didn’t win last year out of shear luck,” he responded with a little attitude.

Trowa eyed him for a while, “I hope you’re not just being cocky,” he said.

Zander’s eyes narrowed, he didn’t like his attitude. The teen seemed to have  arrogance within him. He didn’t speak much, but in Zander’s eyes, it showed clearly.

 “Why? Are you saying you’ll kick my ass if I am?”

“I’d be more worried about what Heero will do to you if we loose,” the youth responded, walking away.

Zander straightened and watched the gundum boys depart. (Duo on a stretcher surrounded my doctors)  A sly smile appeared on his face, “I’ll see you at the racetrack blond boy,” he murmured.  They may not believe in him fully now, but they would soon see what he’s got.

Zander rolled his eyes once, catching a view of the ceiling. Who did that boy think he was anyway? He sighed and then looked to his watch. His eyes widened and a realization of impending doom spread through his system. He was so late. His mother would be home in an hour. He didn’t know if he could make it. That was one long run….He sighed and hoped to God that he’d be able to make it in time.

Duo stared at the white ceiling of the hospital and wondered where in blazes he was. There were four others in the room with him. He looked over with a slightly dazed expression and found his fellow Gundam pilots sitting there. Trowa and Quatre were of a calm demeanor, whereas Herro and Wufei were glaring bloody murder. He shuddered and brought his gaze back up to the ceiling again. His head hurt so much. And he wasn’t sure if all the alcohol that he’d consumed was going to stay down.

Herro’s rather nasal voice came from the corner that he occupied.

“You have alcohol poisoning you moron, don’t move around a lot or you’re going to make yourself nauseous. I’m surprised that you’re not dead with all that you drank this evening.”

Duo shut his eyes and tried to shut his ears so that he couldn’t hear the clear reprimand that Herro was giving him. He sighed once and then spoke his voice hoarse.

“Enough Herro. I feel lousy and stupid all ready. You don’t have to reinforce the fact!”

The rather disgruntled pilot turned over and stared at the opposing wall. “Yeah, come see the moron that screws everything up! Deathscythes’ pilot, the village idiot!”

The statement was so self-depreciatory and out of Duo’s cheerful nature that Herro was slightly concerned. He walked over, sat on the bed and sighed.

“You’ve used your one mistake for this month. You will be allotted no more until next month.”

Duo smiled. Herro had made a joke! The youths’ voice came again.

“Just be ready for the race tomorrow.”

Duo smiled, a tad bit too maliciously. “I will be.”