frostedoverrose (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
frostedoverrose) wrote2014-09-29 09:34 pm
frostedoverrose) wrote2014-09-29 09:34 pm
Entry tags:
Random Spitefic
The elevator doors suddenly opened. Ana and Christian looked up from making out on the couch. "Taylor?" Christian called out, annoyed at being cock-blocked again.
"Nope." A male voice said and the man came into view. His hair was wet and messy. He was wearing denim jeans and a gray tank-top under a dark gray short-sleeved hoodie with a white hood. He had some muscle, which wasn't very much but were bigger than Christian's. There was white tape around his knuckles. The man smiled but flinched. Ana was confused at that.
The man continued, "Jason let me up."
"Get out!" Christian ordered.
"Nope," The man said and grinned. "I will leave. In about two hours."
Ana looked at the clock. It was only one in the afternoon.
"Because unlike you, I actually have a job to go to," The man said.
"Who are you?" Ana blurted out, ignoring the look Christian gave her.
"I have three names. Want my real name?" The man asked.
"Three names?" Christian asked, looking shocked.
The man nodded. "Call me Dean. That's not my real name. But I would love to stand here and have a conversation with you...I have things to do that's costing me time. So I'll start now."
Ana stared at Dean. She looked at Christian but found her gaze going back to Dean. She could feel that Christian wasn't happy.
"Okay. I'll say this lightly. My mom was a whore too," Dean said. "Difference is, she slept with a bunch of men who were married too. She never had a pimp."
Christian rolled his eyes. Obviously he stole his childhood.
"I never was adopted by a rich family. I wasn't adopted period." Dean said, "I grew up poor too. I lived in a apartment." He shrugged.
"So..." Christian dragged out.
Dean gave him a glare, eyes wide and everything. "So. I had to grow up listening to my mom have sex with men. Not pretty."
"Get on with it." Christian ordered, getting impatient.
"So I got bullied. Wearing the same thing to school. They thought it was funny to steal my stuff." Dean explained, "They wanted to watch me panic and get in trouble. They also reminded me that my mom was a whore or slut. I'm like, 'I know so shut up.'" Dean rolled his eyes.
"Your point is?" Christian asked.
"My mom hates me. She never baked me a chocolate cake. She never even hugged me. The one time she did was when I was twelve and I found out she stole two dollars from me." Dean said, "She wishes death on me. She's alive. I haven't spoken to her in eleven years."
"Wow," Christian said.
"Bitch, what's your trauma? You have a good rich family. You had everything handed to you. You can't remember your mother or her pimp. Sure, he hit you till you were four. Then what? Nothing. You never dealt with your mom saying she hates you for eighteen years. Your never dealt with your mom hitting you, cussing at you, and hearing her have sex." Dean snapped out. His fingers were twitching. "I went to bed hungry for two days straight because we never had food to eat or money to buy food from school." Dean glared at Christian. "You never had to fight to get a job. You never had to sleep in homeless shelters. You never gotten hit in the back with a barb-wired covered chair. You never got tangled up in barb-wire. You never had some random dude carve your forehead with a fork. You never had your best friend betray you. You never had someone hit you with a dull chainsaw blade."
Ana just gasped. Dean looked at her and gave her an annoyed look. He looked at Christian, "You never dealt with your mother hitting you while saying 'I hate you' over and over again. You never get called 'unstable' or 'lunatic' on a daily basis. So tell me what's your childhood trauma? Oh you were hungry when you were four? You haven't been hungry since. Your mom's pimp abused you? That hasn't happened since you were four."
Ana wasn't sure what was going on.
"You want to try and buy out my boss's company just to fire me? Fine, I'd love to see you try. Good ole' Vince won't let you. He owns the company. Hunter won't let you either. He'll just kick you out. Or lock you in a storage room till the police gets there." Dean said, "So fuck you and your 'traumatic childhood' and kiss my ass." He left the room.
"Nope." A male voice said and the man came into view. His hair was wet and messy. He was wearing denim jeans and a gray tank-top under a dark gray short-sleeved hoodie with a white hood. He had some muscle, which wasn't very much but were bigger than Christian's. There was white tape around his knuckles. The man smiled but flinched. Ana was confused at that.
The man continued, "Jason let me up."
"Get out!" Christian ordered.
"Nope," The man said and grinned. "I will leave. In about two hours."
Ana looked at the clock. It was only one in the afternoon.
"Because unlike you, I actually have a job to go to," The man said.
"Who are you?" Ana blurted out, ignoring the look Christian gave her.
"I have three names. Want my real name?" The man asked.
"Three names?" Christian asked, looking shocked.
The man nodded. "Call me Dean. That's not my real name. But I would love to stand here and have a conversation with you...I have things to do that's costing me time. So I'll start now."
Ana stared at Dean. She looked at Christian but found her gaze going back to Dean. She could feel that Christian wasn't happy.
"Okay. I'll say this lightly. My mom was a whore too," Dean said. "Difference is, she slept with a bunch of men who were married too. She never had a pimp."
Christian rolled his eyes. Obviously he stole his childhood.
"I never was adopted by a rich family. I wasn't adopted period." Dean said, "I grew up poor too. I lived in a apartment." He shrugged.
"So..." Christian dragged out.
Dean gave him a glare, eyes wide and everything. "So. I had to grow up listening to my mom have sex with men. Not pretty."
"Get on with it." Christian ordered, getting impatient.
"So I got bullied. Wearing the same thing to school. They thought it was funny to steal my stuff." Dean explained, "They wanted to watch me panic and get in trouble. They also reminded me that my mom was a whore or slut. I'm like, 'I know so shut up.'" Dean rolled his eyes.
"Your point is?" Christian asked.
"My mom hates me. She never baked me a chocolate cake. She never even hugged me. The one time she did was when I was twelve and I found out she stole two dollars from me." Dean said, "She wishes death on me. She's alive. I haven't spoken to her in eleven years."
"Wow," Christian said.
"Bitch, what's your trauma? You have a good rich family. You had everything handed to you. You can't remember your mother or her pimp. Sure, he hit you till you were four. Then what? Nothing. You never dealt with your mom saying she hates you for eighteen years. Your never dealt with your mom hitting you, cussing at you, and hearing her have sex." Dean snapped out. His fingers were twitching. "I went to bed hungry for two days straight because we never had food to eat or money to buy food from school." Dean glared at Christian. "You never had to fight to get a job. You never had to sleep in homeless shelters. You never gotten hit in the back with a barb-wired covered chair. You never got tangled up in barb-wire. You never had some random dude carve your forehead with a fork. You never had your best friend betray you. You never had someone hit you with a dull chainsaw blade."
Ana just gasped. Dean looked at her and gave her an annoyed look. He looked at Christian, "You never dealt with your mother hitting you while saying 'I hate you' over and over again. You never get called 'unstable' or 'lunatic' on a daily basis. So tell me what's your childhood trauma? Oh you were hungry when you were four? You haven't been hungry since. Your mom's pimp abused you? That hasn't happened since you were four."
Ana wasn't sure what was going on.
"You want to try and buy out my boss's company just to fire me? Fine, I'd love to see you try. Good ole' Vince won't let you. He owns the company. Hunter won't let you either. He'll just kick you out. Or lock you in a storage room till the police gets there." Dean said, "So fuck you and your 'traumatic childhood' and kiss my ass." He left the room.