The Catboy: Autumn's Tale Part 1

Catboy Tales:
The Tale of Autumn

         Vincent walked up to the high school and stared at the entrance. He took a deep breath and exhaled heavily, not wanting to go inside. He hated school: the stupid, apathetic classmates, the tyrannical teachers, the bell, the monotonous work, he hated it all.
         Vincent stepped through the double doors and began to quickly walk to his homeroom, avoiding eye contact as much as possible. Of course, everyone was staring at him, some even insulting him. Vincent never cared about what they said, they were only idiots he had to deal with on a daily business. Besides, he heard them all before; he heard them a lot.
         “Faggot!”
         “Butt-fucker!”
         “Freak of nature!”
         “Get ran over by a car, cat fag!”
         Why did the other people hate Vincent so much? Vincent is different from the other students. It is not a huge difference, but it did not matter how huge the difference, he still would have been made fun of for other reasons. Vincent is a catboy; the only catboy on planet Earth. He was also a homosexual, which is why the most common insult for him is cat fag. Vincent thought they could have done better than that, it was just combining catboy and faggot. Then again, high school teens are some of the most moronic people in existence and did not put too much brain power in thinking of an insult.
         Vincent kept looking at the floor, hearing insult, after insult, after insult. He found his homeroom number and walked into the room. He quickly looked around, only six other students in the room. He found an isolated place to sit down and set his book bag under the desk. He slouched in his seat and closed his eyes, dreaming of all the horrible things he would do. His dreaming was interrupted when a paper ball hit him over the head. He frowned and just ignored it, knowing that if he did anything about it, the school would be more than happy to punish him. Another paper ball hit him over the head. Vincent exhaled and just kept dreaming, determined to have no one interrupt his violent dream.
         In his thoughts, he was running around and kicking the shit out of everyone in the school, knocking them all out beat-em-up style. The teachers would try to stop him, but they would not be left out of the ass whupping. He began to smile out of the corner of his mouth, and a student happened to notice.
         “Vincent's having a wet dream!” shouted a student. The other students laughed; even the teacher joined in with the laughter. When it came to Vincent, the student would not get in trouble unless physical harm was involved. Even when it was, the student just got kicked out for a week. It wasn't a punishment, more of a prize.
         Vincent frowned and shut his eyes tightly. “Concentrate on the dream,” he thought to himself. The bell rang and Vincent opened his eyes. He looked up at the television, waiting for them to announce it is time to stand up for the national anthem and the pledge of allegiance. Vincent thought it was funny to call it the pledge of allegiance.
         They announced it and all the students stood up, hands over their hearts. Vincent stood up too. He looked down at his desk and noticed a bad drawing of a penis. He just stared at the flag, ignoring the crude drawing. He could not care less about what the students did to him, it has been going on for years.
         After enduring the rest of homeroom, Vincent left to his locker. It was locker 45A. He looked for it for about two minutes before finding it. He put in his combination and tried to open the locker. Surprise, it was stuck. Vincent pounded on the locker.
         “Open up, you lousy piece of crap!” Vincent said quietly to himself. He did not want any of the faculty to catch him cursing in school, they would probably expel him for it. He tried it a few more times, but it still will not open. He sighed and turned around, only to see his worst enemy: Teddy.
         Teddy is an obnoxious, rude, typical football jock. He has white skin and overly spiky hair. He thought it was badass. He is currently accompanied by three other football players: DJ, Franklin, and Samuel. DJ is a black football jock, who spoke like a typical gangster. Franklin is also a white guy. He has a huge afro, which he takes much pride in and often refers to it when he can. Samuel, another white guy, is probably the only decent player on the football team. His hair was combed in a greaser-like style.
         Teddy chuckled at Vincent's attempt to open his locker. “Maybe the lockers here don't open for catfags!”
         Franklin laughed. “That joke was as good as my afro!”
         Teddy glared over at Franklin, “Stop talking about your damned afro!” Franklin pouted and looked away, arms crossed.  Vincent began to walk away, not wanting to deal with him at the moment. Teddy growled and walked after him. “Hey, don't you dare walk away from me!”
         Vincent stopped and turned back toward Teddy. “Just shut up, if there's a real faggot around here, it's you.” Vincent walked away again. Teddy stood there, taking a moment to realize he had been insulted by a gay catboy. He growled again and ran after him. Vincent's cat ears twitched and he grinned, sticking a leg out. Teddy tripped over it and fell on his face. Vincent giggled quietly and continued on his way.
         Teddy got up off the floor, his face red with humiliation and anger. All the other students knew what was coming and cut Vincent off. Vincent turned a whole one hundred eighty degrees to see Teddy run at him, his hand balled up in a fist. The students chanted, “Fight! Fight! Fight!” Teddy was more than happy to fulfill their lust to see the catboy get pounded into a pulp.
         While it was against his better judgment, Vincent tossed his backpack to the side. He stood still, waiting for Teddy to get close enough. Vincent side-stepped the punch with ease and kicked just under the kneecap of the pissed off football player, making him land on his face again. The surrounding students' eyes went wide, some with their jaws agape. Teddy got back up on his two feet, breathing angrily. Vincent turned around to face Teddy and giggled again.
         “Come on Teddy, that was too easy!” the catboy said with a smirk. Teddy wasn't going to let some homosexual freak beat him up, especially with the other students around. He tried to rush at Vincent again, and Vincent again tripped Teddy.
         “Vincent tripped Teddy again!” whispered a student to another. Soon, the students started to talk about how weak Teddy was looking, being tripped three times. Teddy looked around at the students, which caused them all to shut up immediately.
         Teddy, his face red with pure rage, looked over to Franklin and Samuel. He shouted, “Don't just stand there, dumbshits!” Franklin nodded, and tried the same thing Teddy did, rushing full speed at Vincent; who turned and lifted his knee. The knee connected with Franklin's gut, knocking the air out of him. He fell over limply. DJ was next to rush at Vincent, throwing a right hook. Vincent ducked under it and jump kicked the back of his head, making him fall on his front and clutch where he was kicked.
         “Yup, just repeat the same strategy, it is bound to work eventually,” Vincent said sarcastically. Teddy stomped the ground. The students backed away, worried that the football jock would literally explode.
         “Samuel! Fucking do something!” Teddy yelled almost loud enough to be heard throughout the whole school. The students looked at Samuel. Samuel was well-respected by the students, more respected than Teddy. Teddy was the only one student who dared give Samuel orders or scold him.
         Samuel just shrugged, “I see no reason for me to get involved.” Teddy growled for a third time and charged at Vincent.
         Vincent, figuring he should end this, side-stepped Teddy's rushing punch again. He ran at the lockers and then jumped at them. He kicked off the lockers, turned, performed a front flip, and then kicked the back of Teddy's head. Teddy fell over like a sack of potatoes. His body laid still, the enraged jock made calm by being knocked out.
         The students took a few steps back and then hustled to their classes. Finally, a teacher rushed over to Vincent. He looked at him, then the unconscious jock. Vincent exhaled and knew what the teacher was gonna tell him to do. He picked up his backpack and began to walk slowly to the principal's office, his eyes staring at the floor. The teacher crouched down near Teddy and shook him, as if it would snap him back to consciousness.
         The principal of this high school happens to be Teddy's father, Mr. Kong. He never wanted to be a principal, but his father forced him to become one. His head rested on his arms, his eyes closed. Another year of being a principal to a bunch of worthless students. The only ones worth a damn were the jocks, he thought.
         “Mr. Kong, you awake sir?” asked the secretary/nurse through the intercom. The school did not have enough budget to have both. Mr. Kong groaned before replying.
         “I'm awake, what do you want?”
         “You have a student here to see you, sir.”
         “Already?!” Mr. Kong sat up, looking at the intercom with utter disbelief. He groaned again before asking, “Who is it, and for what reason?” With it being this early in the school year, odds are there was some student who was talking out of turn, or some student was chewing gum too loudly. Knowing the teachers, they would probably send someone to him just for having untied shoelaces just to tick him off.
         “Vincent Sage for knocking out Franklin Bush, DJ Nickel, and your son, Teddy.”
         “What?!” He stood up from his chair, hands slamming the desk. His son, a good candidate for becoming a professional football player, was beaten up by a girly catboy? This was an extreme embarrassment for him, the Kong males were always known as some of the toughest around. He pinched between his eyes, “Send him in.”
         “Yes, sir.” Mr. Kong sat up and looked as threatening as he could, which was not very difficult. He had broad shoulders, cold, piercing eyes, was about 6'10 tall, and could yell louder than anyone in the county, maybe the state. He even gave the stricter teachers chills.
         Vincent entered the room and immediately saw the principal doing his best to look scary. He was unphased and just plopped down on the wooden chair that was always sat in front of the bigger desk. He acted like he was looking into the principal's eyes, but was really looking out the window. Mr. Kong slammed the desk with his fist, “Look me in the eyes!” Vincent rubbed at his cat ears, which were overly sensitive to loud noises. One more reason he did his best to avoid trouble. Mr. Kong folded his arms before asking, “Do you have any idea of what you just did? Thanks to you, we'll be three players short for out first game. It wouldn't be so bad if one of the benched players wasn't my son!” Mr. Kong fixed his tie before asking, “What do you have to say for yourself?”
         Vincent scratched behind his ears, something he did to avoid making a sarcastic remark. Strangely, it calms him and helps him think straight. The principal sat there staring, waiting for an answer, or at least waiting for him to start showing signs of nervousness, which there wasn't any of except for the scratching. Vincent stopped, sat in perfect posture, and replied calmly, “My sincerest apologies, Mr. Kong, for knocking out three of the jocks. It's just that...” Vincent stopped to think, he was most likely going to be expelled, so why bother holding back? He slouched, crossed his arms, and continued with a cocky smirk on his face, “it's just that it was too freaking easy!”
         Mr. Kong could not believe what he had heard. He stood up, leaning over the desk while glaring at the catboy, quickly trying to come up with a response. Why was it so difficult, most freshmen were like this the first time. His brain finally thought of something, “Too easy? What do you mean, too easy?!”
         “They didn't put up much of a fight, even though they were the ones attacking me. I was just defending myself, not my fault they won't be at the first football game of the season.” Vincent started to relax more in the chair, he had expected more anger, and yet the principal seemed nervous.
         Mr. Kong took a minute to compose himself, taking a few deep breaths. He sat back down, arms folded back on the desk. A calming thought had entered his mind, he could be the one to expel the dreaded catboy. Many others had tried, but for some reason the superintendent did his best to make sure the freak of nature would get equal treatment. The principal gazed into the catboy's eyes and said quite calmly, “You do realize expulsion is the punishment for getting into a fight on school property, right?” Vincent nodded slowly, not really caring. The principal stood up and walked beside the desk, his eyes never breaking their gaze, “Don't give me that smug attitude!” he yelled, knowing how much it disturbed him from last time, “Do not think for even a second the superintendent can prevent you from being expelled! You got in a fight, and even if it was in self-defense, you laid out three fellow students. Worst of all, you don't seem to care.”
          Vincent rubbed at his ears again, the shouting really getting on his nerves. He glared back at the so-called principal, “You're right, I don't care! Why should I, they attacked me first, and yet they won't get into any trouble!”
         “Don't accuse me of being an unfair principal!” yelled Mr. Kong, making Vincent and even the secretary/nurse wince, “I said they're missing their first game over this fight! They would be in deeper trouble if they had actually gotten a hit in, but you look unscathed!”
         “Uh, sir,” said the secretary/nurse's voice over the intercom, “I hate to say this, but Vincent can't be expelled over the fight. First off, this is Vincent's first offense, and secondly, if you expel him, you have to expel the others too. They never hit Vincent, but they did show intent to maim.”
         Mr. Kong seemed to be in a state of shock, which made Vincent almost giggle at the sight. He was able to stop himself by scratching behind his ears. Mr. Kong, still wide-eyed, slumped back into his chair. He cleared his throat and sat up, fixing his tie and went back to looking menacing, “Okay, so I can't expel you,” he said in a depressed manner, “but I'm still kicking you out for three school days.” He hid his face in his hands, he hated giving out this punishment, but it was the one he had to give out.
         Vincent, seeing this as a victory, could not help but make a smartass comment, “Oh no, three days without any student to make fun of me or unfair teachers,” he said in a sarcastic tone. Mr. Kong wanted to wring his neck, but that would be illegal. Instead, he rubbed at his temples, extremely annoyed by this freak.
         He pushed a button on the intercom, “Call Vincent's parents,” he said, trying to sound calm.
         “Yes, sir,” replied the secretary/nurse. Vincent stood up, slung the backpack over his shoulder, and headed out into the office and sat on a chair, waiting to be picked up by one of his foster parents. He watched the secretary/nurse for a bit, and she didn't really do much. Vincent was never really interested in women. When he heard guys talking about how sexy a chick was, he never really saw it. Then again, he's gay, which is pretty obvious by now.
         Vincent rooted through his backpack, trying to find something to do until they picked him up. After finding nothing, he sighed and dropped the backpack just as Teddy entered the room. He looked up at the jock and had a satisfied grin on his face, why not torment the football player while he waited? Teddy turned his shoulder and glared at the catboy with an intense expression, “You'll get your's, catfag, and when you do, you'll be begging for forgiveness!”
         “Wow! That's a big word for you, begging,” retorted Vincent.
         Teddy growled lowly but was interrupted by the secretary/nurse, “Teddy, go into the principal's office.” Teddy opened the door and entered, slamming it with a lot of force. Vincent rubbed at his ears, why did he have to be cursed with sensitive hearing?
         With nothing better to do, he closed his eyes and did some more dreaming. He found the dream world to be more fascinating than the real world, it's just too bad he couldn't use it as an escape. This time, he was dreaming of how the fight could have been better. Instead of tripping Teddy, he could have flattened him with a jumping straight kick to the chest, maybe even did more taunting.
         His dreaming was interrupted when Teddy left the principal's office. He seemed different, like he was sad. His gaze was aimed at the floor and he was rubbing the back of his head, a small sniffle even came from him. He wiped his nose and glared at Vincent, saying nothing but the message was perfectly clear: No mercy will be shown if they ever get in another fight.
         Teddy left the office, it was still first period, though it was going to end soon. Vincent stood up to stretch, his house was a long drive from here. Just as he was about to sit back down, his foster mother came into the room, signed him out, and then signaled him to follow. Vincent didn't waste any time and quickly followed after her, backpack slung over one shoulder and his eyes staring at the floor, he had not thought of what his parents were going to think of his being kicked out. They were going to be pissed.
         Vincent got into the passenger's side of the car and put on his seat belt and waited for his foster mother. He quite liked his foster parents, they were actually nice to him and did not judge him on his looks or sexual orientation. His foster mother started the car and began to drive off. He looked over at her, she didn't seem mad, just worried. He stared out the passenger side window, his chin resting on his arm. There was silence for a long while before his mother spoke, “I can't believe you got in a fight on your first day.” Vincent looked over at her, not knowing what to say, he still thinks fighting back was the right thing to do, but he would not dare tell her that. “It's so unlike you,” she continued, “I mean, I just cannot believe it. I'm not surprised that no one hit you, you were always faster than the other kids.” He went back to looking out the window, still not saying anything. His foster mother does not sound angry or disappointed at him, but he did not know how to describe it.
         The drive continued in total silence from the both of them. Finally after what seemed like an eternity, she parked the car in the garage. They got out and before Vincent could rush inside, his foster mother called out, “I want to have a talk with you, and yes, I expect you to actually be involved in it instead of just listening.”
         “OK mom,” he replied. He opened the door and entered the kitchen, rushing over to his own little paradise, his bedroom. He tossed the backpack aside and flopped onto the bed, his arms and legs sprawled out. He loved his room, it was his way of relaxing after being forced to be around people he'd rather never met.
         After removing his stripping down to his boxers, he got under the covers of the bed and smiled, when he was in his bed, he was in a state of pure bliss. Beds were connected with sleep, and Vincent loved sleeping, it was daydreaming in overdrive. He is a very lazy teenager, yet he was more athletic than most other people. One advantage to being a catboy, his agility was impressive. Some would say advanced hearing would be another one, but Vincent would very much disagree; there was too much loud noise associated with human beings. He drifted off to sleep, a skill he mastered to perfection., maybe that could be attributed to the cat in him.
         He was forced to wake up when someone knocked on his door, “Hey, Vincent!” shouted his foster father, “Your mother and I need to talk to you!” He groaned and tossed the covers off him. He checked the time to see how long he had been asleep, but then remembered he did not know the time when he fell asleep. He leaped out of bed and immediately sat back on the bed, he had gotten up too quickly.
         When he stopped feeling groggy, he put his school clothes back on and stepped out of his room. He walked over to the living room and sat on the chair, looking at his foster parents with half open eyes, “So uh...what is it you wanna talk about?” He already guessed what it was, but he felt he should ask.
         His father cleared his throat before speaking, “You're mother and I have been speaking about your fight at school, and we decided that it was our fault.” Vincent's ears perked and he sat up, had he heard that right? It was their fault?
         “You don't have any friends to speak with, and you are in your room all day,” said his mother. Vincent slumped back in the chair, he knew where this was going, “I guess that you have been bottling up your emotions to the point of breaking, so we think if you actually had a friend, you'd be more cheery.”
         Vincent began to groan but was cut off by his foster father, “Don't start with that! We've let you be in your room ninety percent of the time without ever bugging you once about going out. We both agree it's a good idea, so when school is out, we'll drop you off at the arcade to mingle.” People still say mingle?
         Vincent stretched, still waking up. He was never good at waking up, just falling asleep. He once thought about suicide so he could sleep forever, but figured someone else was going to kill him soon enough, why spoil it for them? “Mom, dad,” he started, “I'm grateful to have parents like you, but I can't stand the people here. They're all stupid, intolerable, and in case you didn't know, they hate me as much as I hate them!”
         “You'll never make a friend with that attitude,” said his mother.
         “Who knows, you might even meet a nice girl...er I mean boy,” said the father. He was not against Vincent being gay, but he would've preferred having a son who had an attraction to females.
         Vincent thought about this for a bit, having a friend would be fun, but finding one would be a challenge. It was a working relationship: they hated him, and he hated them. He nodded, “OK, I'll try to make a friend.”
         “We weren't exactly asking, we're telling you,” said the father. He looked at the clock, it was one o'clock in the afternoon, “If you want to return to napping, you may, but we're waking you up at 3:30PM. Got that?” Vincent nodded and stood up, thankful he was allowed time to sleep. He ran to his bedroom at full speed, to him every second of sleep is precious.
         Later, Vincent was dropped off at the arcade. He was not sure why they chose the arcade, no one really goes to those places nowadays. It was 2014 and arcades were starting to close up all around, no one had any interest in them anymore. They're more like places for gangs and druggies to hang out now, along with the occasional nostalgia junkie or two. He entered the arcade and looked around at all the people, all twelve of them. Vincent himself was not an avid game player, but there were some he found enjoyable. None of them were arcade games.
         He walked around the arcade and checked out all the games, there were some pretty old ones like Altered Beast, Mortal Kombat, Soul Calibur, the Simpsons arcade game, and Space Invaders. His foster parents let him have five dollars, enough for ten games. He walked up to the Mortal Kombat arcade cabinet to watch an older teen with a mullet playing it. Vincent didn't know too much about the Mortal Kombat series, but he knew enough to know the two characters on screen, Scorpion and Sub-Zero. The older teen tried to win by abusing the ice blast, but soon lost by a spear to the head. The machine asked for more coins for a continue and the teen with a mullet checked his pocket, shrugging when he found no more coins, “Eh, real life fighting is better anyway,” he said to himself. He turned and saw Vincent, looking quickly at the cat ears. It took him a while to realize it was the town's resident catboy and he grinned and waved “Hey there, heard about your fight earlier this morning over the radio.”
         Vincent rolled his eyes and walked away, stopping quickly when he felt his tail was grabbed. “Eep!” he shouted out of surprise, causing the older teen to chuckle and let go of it. He absolutely hated when people grabbed it, “Don't grab my tail!” he told the older teen before turning to face him, arms crossed as he scouted him out. As established, he has a mullet haircut, and he's wearing a dirty white tanktop, probably hasn't been washed in years, and jeans with holes in them. Most likely a redneck from the trailer park, “What do you want, some money for some chew?”
         The older teen smirked and shook his head, “Nah, my dad bought a lifetime's supply due to the 2012 scare,” he replied, “Actually, I wanted to congratulate you on your victory, fighting one on three is pretty difficult.”
         Vincent's ears twitched, he was being congratulated? He almost never gets compliments from people other than his foster parents. After standing there thinking of a proper response, he finally said, “Um...thanks?”
         “What, am I the first to say congratulations?” he said, a bit of shock in his voice, “Huh, thought someone would've done that by now.” He shrugged and continued, grinning again, “Anyway, thought you might like to hang out sometime.”
         “Hang...out?” asked Vincent, not really believing what he heard. Someone was willing to hang out with him? He crossed his arms, “You're joking, right?”
         The older teen shook his head and extended an arm, “Nope. Name's Ben.” Vincent looked at the extended hand, knowing he is supposed to shake it but wasn't sure if he could trust him. The hand laid at Ben's side, “OK, no handshake then,” he said with disappointment in his voice, “but yeah, you wanna hang out or what?”
         Vincent scanned over the teen's face, he was extremely tan, sign of someone who liked to be outside, either that or he owns a tanning bed, but by the look of his clothes that isn't very likely. He wasn't trying to check how tan he was, he was just looking to see if he could be trusted. After being positive the teen had nothing to hide, he pointed to one of his ears, “You sure you want to hang out with me? The town's catfag?”
         Ben scoffed, “Do I look like I care about what others think?”
         “No,” thought Vincent, “no you do not.” He thought for a bit, well he did come here to make a friend after all, so why the hell not? “Sure, we can hang out.” The teen grinned again, at this point another few times and it may be stuck that way. He headed for the door and Vincent followed behind.
         Ben stopped and pulled Vincent beside him, “You stand beside me, not behind me,” he said quickly before walking again. Vincent stood to think for a sec before getting it, rushing up to be beside the teen.
         “First you say you don't care about being seen with me, then you say to stand beside you?” he asked, kind of pissy that someone would actually think he'd try to ass-rape someone.
         Ben playfully punched Vincent's arm, “Chill, I'm just fucking with you. Geez, haven't you had a friend before?” Vincent shook his head and looked at the ground. Ben ohs and pats his back, “Just means you have a good taste in friends, no one here is worth spending time with, they're all total dicks.”
         “Oh yeah, I can agree with you there,” said Vincent, chuckling. Ben doesn't seem too bad, and he even thinks the same as he does when it comes to the people around here, “They're all also stupid too, you should have seen the fight.” A thought occurred to Vincent and he looked over at his new friend, “How come you weren't there to see it? You skip school today or something?”
         Ben shakes his head, “Nah, I dropped out of high school,” he says nonchalantly. He turns his head away and rubs the back of his neck, “I wasn't going to go anywhere anyway, my grades were shit. Why bother putting up with the assholes when you know it won't mean anything? Like any college would accept me.” He turned his head to look back at Vincent.
         Vincent quickly noticed him rub the back of his neck but doesn't think of it too much. He had some solid points, “That's true, makes me wonder why I'm going to go through it.”
         Ben puts a hand on his shoulder, “Dude, don't dropout, because then they win and you lose, and you always have to strive to win.” His hand goes back to his side and Vincent thinks about that for a bit, again another good point.
         “So uh, where are we headed anyway?” Vincent asked, although he probably should have asked that earlier. They've been walking down the sidewalk the whole time they were speaking.
         Ben just shrugged again, “I don't know, I just felt like walking.” Vincent thought that was a strange reply, but continued walking with his only friend. This was nice, just to be able to hang out with someone around his own age, chatting and hanging out, he could get used to this.
         They continued walking and chatting for a few more minutes, mostly chatting about how this place sucks and about high school, which also sucks. Vincent stopped suddenly and put his hand over his face, remembering that he was supposed to stay near the arcade because that's where his parents were picking him up, “Hey Ben, I gotta head back to the arcade, that's where my folks are picking me up.”
         Ben nodded and turned, “I'll walk back with you to the arcade, walking is boring without someone to talk with.” They both started heading back, Vincent walking a bit faster than Ben, nervous that his foster parents may be there already, waiting for him. Maybe they wouldn't mind too much if he said he was with a friend. Which reminded him, other than his name, he didn't really know anything about Ben.
         “So Ben, what can you tell me about yourself?”
         “I live in a trailer park, I hate my parents, I love video games, and when I was still a fetus, my father shoved his middle finger up my mom's vagina because he was horny but couldn't get any with me still in development.” It's official, no more asking Ben personal questions. Ben chuckled and after Vincent got over the shock about what he had just heard, they began chatting again, this time about video games. Ben seemed to know about a lot of the classics, revealing that he really enjoys playing older games to see how they have developed over the years. He went on about different games, but Vincent didn't really pay too much attention, he wasn't interested.
         He felt someone bump into his shoulder and looked to see who it was. After seeing, he grabbed Ben by the arm and started fast-walking, taking him by surprise, “What's going on?” he asked, blinking and looking around, “You aren't planning on taking me into an alleyway are you?” Vincent did plan on it, but not for the reasons he was thinking. He pulled them both into an alley and peeked out from behind the corner. Sure enough, DJ and a few other black people came running down the sidewalk. Vincent didn't know if they were fellow players or drug dealers, but he didn't want to find out.
         He pressed his back to the wall, staying quiet. His plan worked because they rushed right past the alleyway. Vincent sighed and sat on the ground, back to the wall. Ben walked out from the alleyway and pointed to them, looking over at Vincent, “I take it they aren't friends of your's.”
         Vincent shook his head and motioned for him to sit down, “No, that was DJ and his posse!”
         Ben oh’s and grins, cupping his hand around his mouth before shouting, “Hey DJ, heard you got your ass kicked by a gay catboy! I guess you really aren't that much of a gangsta, huh?”
         Vincent eeped and pulled Ben into the alleyway, but it was too late, they were already seen. DJ and his crew ran after them, wanting to put the smack down on them. Vincent cursed and pulled Ben's arm, but he pulled it back, “Just what do you think you're doing?” he asked, his usual grin on his face, “The fun's about to begin.” Ben stood out on the sidewalk, poised for battle.
         Vincent kept pulling on his arm, “Let's go!” he shouted, but Ben wouldn't budge. He pushed Vincent away.
         “If you don't want to fight, then just watch,” said Ben, “It'll be fun.” Vincent sighed and ran back into the alley, watching from there.
         The crew stopped just before Ben, “Are you the one who shouted?” shouted DJ before looking into the alley, glaring at the one who had kicked the back of his head. He began rubbing it as he spoke, “Well boys, looks like we get to deliver two beatings; one for the white piece of shit, and the other for the faggot who took me down!”
         Ben stood in front of the alley entrance, “Want to get to him? Then you gotta go through me.”
         The crew laughed, one piece of trailer trash against five feared gangstas? This was gonna be over soon. DJ smirked, showing off his gold tooth, “Look at this boys, Vincent's boyfriend is gonna protect him. Let's show him what happens when he messes with us!”
         Ben just shook his head and said quietly, “You have no idea who you're fucking with!” DJ threw a right hook, aimed for the jaw, but it was caught in Ben's hand. Ben smirked and twisted it, making DJ go onto one knee. Another gangster threw a straight punch, but Ben used DJ's arm to block it. Thankfully for DJ the punch wasn't strong enough to break his arm, but it did make him shout in pain.
         “Watch where you punch, man!” he screamed. Ben pushed him aside and again positioned himself for battle, holding up a hand and giving the national 'Come get some' sign. They all threw a punch at him, but he blocked all of them. Next came a kick from the gangsta from the left, which Ben side-stepped and he caught the leg under his arm. He pulled the leg forward and moved behind the gangster, an elbow between his shoulder blades while he pulled the arm. The gangster was forced onto one knee and struggled to escape, but Ben had a good grip.
         Vincent could only just stare in awe, this guy knew how to fight? Yeah, he loved fighting, but he didn't actually think he knew how to. DJ stood up and stood along with his fellow crew mates. “What the fuck is up with this guy?” asked one of them.
         “He's like a white Jackie Chan!” shouted another. DJ slapped both of them across the face.
         “What are ya, a bunch of fucking pussies?” He points at Ben, “Don't stand there, attack!” The one asking what the fuck was up with Ben rushed first. Ben smirked and used the guy he was gripping to launch himself up and dropkick his face, making him fall back and grip his jaw. Ben landed and threw the guy into a brick wall, punching his stomach until being pulled away. He got kneed in the stomach and bent over, but used this to his advantage by gripping behind the gangster's knees and standing upright, tossing him overhead. He landed on his back and reached for it.
         “Three down, two to go!” exclaimed Ben as he cracked his knuckles and waited for the next attack.
         “Fuck this shit!” shouted the only unnamed gangster to still be standing. He ran for his life, running quite quickly. Ben laughed and stood, his arms spread, taunting DJ into attacking.
         DJ looked at his fallen comrades, one clutching his stomach, and the other two on the floor. They got up and ran away too. How could one guy be so tough? He reached into his pocket and pulled out his pistol, “Let's see how tough you are now!”
         Ben wagged his finger and shook his head, “Tsk tsk, bad move.” He rushed at DJ, who had pulled the trigger, but nothing shot out. He went to check the gun, but Ben had already grabbed his gun arm and his throat, slamming him into a wall.
         “Hey dumbass, you forgot to cock the gun,” said Ben before pulling DJ away from the wall. He got a good grip of his arm and pulled on the arm as he bent down, the force causing DJ to flip over and land on his back. Ben still had a good grip and he placed his knee against his elbow, slowly bending it backward, “Drop the gun, or I'll break your arm!” DJ whimpered and immediately did so, knowing he would. Ben kicked it toward Vincent, who stood away from it and watched as his new friend picked DJ off the ground and grabbed him by the throat, “Hey Vincent, I'll let you have the final move in,” said Ben as he looked back. Vincent nodded and began kicking off the alley walls until he believed he was high enough and then front flipped, kicking the back of DJ's skull like he did with Teddy earlier. He fell onto his front, his body limp. Ben laughed and raised his hand for a high five, “That was awesome! What do you call that?” Vincent high-fived the hand and smiled, he had to admit it was pretty cool.
         “I don't call it anything, it's just a move I saw in a movie,” replied Vincent, but he began thinking of names.
         “How about the Rainbow Kick?” suggested Ben. “Nah. Um, how 'bout Freak's Revenge? No, that's not it either.”
         “Do you happen to know the other name for catboys?” asked Vincent, he had heard it before when some anime geek insulted him.
         “You mean neko?”
         Vincent nodded and jumped up, pumped from the adrenaline rush because of watching Ben, “That's it, I'm going to call it the Neko Pounce!” He giggled and smiled, his tail waving around.
         “Neko Pounce?” Ben raised an eyebrow but shrugged, “Your move, I guess.” Vincent crossed his arms, sure as hell sounded cooler than Rainbow Kick, but he didn't want to say that out loud. Staying on Ben's good side was a must, he thought.
         Ben walked down the alleyway and picked up DJ's gun, “Not very impressive, but I won't pass up a free gun,” he said, cocking it and aiming it playfully at Vincent. He did a quick one-eighty and fired at the wall, a loud gunshot made from it which made Vincent rub at his ears. Ben noticed and chuckled, turning the gun's safety mode on and putting the gun in his pocket. They both left the alleyway and headed back to the arcade, Vincent's foster parents were sure to be there by now.
         Along the way, Vincent was still stoked about the fight. Ben was awesome, and all those wall kicks he himself did, he never had done multiple before. He giggled and looked over at Ben, “You were so fucking amazing!” he shouted.
         Ben smirked, “You thought that was good, you should see me in bed.” He winked and Vincent instantly shut up and crossed his arms, though he was still excited.
         “How did you learn to fight like that anyway?” asked Vincent.
         “I had a really good sensei who taught me back when I was a kid, came from Japan and everything,” replied Ben. They stopped near the arcade, a car parked in front. His mother looked out the passenger side, looking cross at first, but she relaxed when she saw Vincent with someone. Her head went back inside the car and she shook her husband, pointing at Ben. Ben blinked and looked over at Vincent, “Those your parents?”
         Vincent nodded and walked up to the car, “Foster parents,” he quickly replied. He got into the car and rolled the window down, looking over at Ben and waving, “See you here tomorrow?”
         “Nah, meet me at the sandlot near the trailer park,” answered Ben, “around seven in the afternoon, I'll introduce you to my old sensei.” Vincent nodded and waved again, Ben waving back. Vincent's father drove off and Ben stood there, watching it ride off. He walked back into the arcade and checked the clock, it read six. He used the arcade's bathroom and then headed off for home. It was about a thirty minute walk, but Ben enjoyed walking, gave him time to think of new fighting moves.
         Later, Ben stood in front of the trailer park he lived in and sighed, back to being with his dumbass, old-school parents. He decided to prolong returning by heading for the sandlot. It used to be a popular hang out spot around the mid to late 1900s, but kids today would prefer being inside, and who could blame them? Besides, at least it meant it would be a quiet spot.
         He walked up to the lot and looked around, looking for his sensei, who was always here during the afternoon. He put his hands in his pocket and felt the gun, which he played with as he searched, “Hello? Hisashi-sensei?” he called out. He soon felt some small vibrations from the ground originating from behind him. He spun around quickly, leg extended and he kicked whatever was behind him. It shattered easily and he saw it was just a high mound of sand. He groaned, “I know you're here now, Hisashi-sensei!” He groaned in pain as he felt someone quickly grab his wrist and twist it behind his back. He looked back, already knowing who it was, only one person in this town was fast enough to appear behind him, “Hey, what's up?”
         His sensei let go of his arm and hid his hands in his sleeves, “What brings you here?” he asked before sitting down in the dirt, legs crossed and eyes closed, waiting for his former student's response.
         Ben sat down in the same position beside his former sensei, “You know, wanting to avoid my family for as long as possible.” He laid back on the dirt, not really caring about getting dirty. He does not really hate his family, they just get on his nerves. His mom is a religious fanatic and his dad is a lazy, horny drunk. At least they pretty much let him do whatever he wants, as long as he doesn't get in trouble with the law. He stares up at the afternoon sky, his hair getting dirt in it.
         Hisashi looks over at him, “Still avoiding your parents, huh?” he asks, although he is not surprised. For as long as he's known Ben, he has always stayed away from his parents as much as he could.
         “Yeah,” he replied, looking over at his sensei, whom he met when he was twelve. He remembers the day perfectly well since that was the day his life changed for the better. Ever since, Hisashi has been like a grandfather to him, a grandfather who could beat anyone in a fight. When they first met, he had never expected that he would have respect for someone who was not white, he had been raised to believe whites were the superior race and that foreigners were ruining the United States, but Hisashi had showed him the error of his thinking. He had grown a hatred for his racist family, but he never showed it to them.
         He snapped out of his reminiscing when Hisashi asked, “Anything happen today?”
         “I got into a fight today, against a couple of wannabe gangsters, but it wasn't worth mentioning, it was easy.”
         “My, you certainly get into a lot of fights,” said Hisashi, not that he cared, Ben is free to do what he wants with his training, but if he does anything terrible, he'll stop Ben himself, “Anything else?”
         “I made a new friend,” replied Ben, “the catboy that got in a fight with the jocks, he was there while I fought the gangsters but didn't get involved.”
         “Sounds like he has self-control.” Ben ignored his ex-mentor and continued speaking.
         “He's a pretty cool person for having cat ears and a tail, so I invited him over here tomorrow to meet you and Davis.”
         Hisashi looked at Ben with a curious expression on his face, “You did?” Ben nodded, “Why'd you do that?”
         “I thought it would be cool for him to meet the one who trained me, that's all,” answered Ben as he ran his hand through his hair, trying to get the dirt out of it.
         “Doesn't it feel odd to invite someone to meet me when you rarely ever visit nowadays?”
         “Nope.” Hisashi chuckled quietly, Ben was really an odd person, he loved fighting, avoided his parents most of the time, and did things without thinking of how other people would react. Ben stood up and stretched, “Wanna spar? I need something to do instead of just lazing about.” Hisashi sighed and stood up, dusting off his clothes.
         “Better idea, how about we continue your training for a bit?” suggested Hisashi. Ben crossed his arms, he should have known he was going to bring it up.
         “I told you before, my training is finished!” He attacked with a straight punch that Hisashi easily avoided. He grabbed the arm and used Ben's own momentum to throw him hard onto the ground.
         “You learned a lot, but there is still much to learn. It's been nice talking, but I'm afraid I must go.” Hisashi disappeared in the blink of an eye and Ben got on his hands and knees and pounded his fist onto the ground before standing up, he will defeat that old bastard one of these days.
         Ben headed on over back to the trailer park and sighed, with nothing else to do he headed into his trailer. His father was sleeping on the recliner, the TV still on the porn channel. He just left it on, fearing that if the TV was turned off his father would wake up in an instant. His mother was in the kitchen washing the dishes, humming a Christian tune. Glad he wasn't noticed, he headed off for his room and turned on his Nintendo 64, his family unable to afford anything newer thanks to their obsessive pay-per-view viewing. He shouldn't complain too much, since he himself watches every wrestling PPV.
         He played a bit of Conker's Bad Fur Day, which is his favorite video game that he owns. He got Conker to piss on the fire imps, or whatever they were, and then began the boss battle with the big-bollocked boiler. He was glad his parents didn't care what he played, though they didn't really ever care about him since he started training. They acted like it was evil.
         His mother barged into the room, something she would do at complete random, “Hey Ben, your father and I are going to the meeting, you coming?” Ben shook his head, not taking his eyes off the tiny TV screen. She slammed the door and they left, though he could hear his parents' arguing for the next three minutes.
         Once he finished the boss battle, he went out into the living room and watched pro wrestling on the television. He knew it was fake, but he enjoyed it and it even gave him ideas on what moves he could do to his enemies, no matter how many times it said not to do it at home or school. Technically, he could never do it at school because he dropped out, and he never got into fights at home.
         After the show ended, he went back to his room and got ready for bed, he has had a busy day and he decided to sleep earlier tonight. He got into bed and closed his eyes, doing his best to sleep but was always nervous about his parents killing him in his sleep. He isn't sure why they would do that, but he had a feeling they did not like him very much.
         Vincent flopped onto his bed, back to wearing nothing but his skivvies, but was thankfully covered up by the bed covers. He switched it to his favorite program and relaxed. Tomorrow would not only be his first day of being kicked out of high school, but he also gets to meet Ben's sensei, being kicked out is gonna be better than expected. He is worried over meeting the sensei, but not too much since Ben was willing to have them meet, so he shouldn't be bad. He continued watching the show until it ended and turned the TV off, yawning and stretching. He rolled onto his side and fell asleep, wanting to see Ben again as soon as possible.
         He woke up at one in the afternoon and tossed around in bed, trying to get himself to get up but his body was against the idea of getting out of bed. After laying around for fifteen minutes, he finally got up and put some clothes on and went out to the kitchen. He got himself a glass of milk and drank some of it, exhaling happily. He still had a few more hours until he had to go meet Ben, so he went back to his room, set the alarm on his clock for 6:30PM, which took him awhile because he has never set it before, and then began watching TV.