Title: Cliché
Author: Alse
Part 2: A Kitchen Mess
Rating: PG-13
E-mail: alsepang@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: It is a widely known and indisputable fact that 
Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon belongs only to Naoko Takeuchi 
And whichever companies and their franchises she has assigned 
whatever copyrights of merchandise, television, film, etc. to. 
This story was not written for profit on the writer's part and
 was never intended to be used for any such gain. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

      I'll never know how I survived the next 
few days. 

      'My heart is not the first heart broken, my eyes 
are not the first to cry...'

      I had to examine the situation with cold
logic, in the light of everything that had 
happened between us. Who was I to 
deserve his love, to even covet it? I was 
nothing like the girl he had brought back. 
She was worthy of him and I loved him 
enough to force myself let him go. 
Besides, I had little choice save to try to 
forget him. What claim had I on him, 
anyway, as the one being he had hated 
and despised all his life? I knew that if 
he so much as suspected my having 
fallen in love with him, he would laugh 
and I could not endure that. Better that I 
keep this to myself and suffer in silence. 

         To make it worse, I was completely 
aware that this was no infatuation, no 
crush. I was an adult, in my twenties, 
and I had long figured out the difference 
between love and crushes. This was the 
real thing. It appeared that I had always 
loved him, this man who had challenged 
me head on through my childhood and 
teenage years. Somewhere along the way, 
my subconscious had taken note of him 
and allowed me to fall. He had my heart 
long before I realized it and I recognized
this with a certain amount of bitterness 
and resentment. Why me? Why him? 
Why couldn't I have fallen in love with 
someone whose heart did not belong to
another? Why did I have to discover 
that I harboured such feelings for 
someone who hated me? Was this one 
of fate's little tricks? I wanted to scream 
out at the injustice of it all.

       It was driven home to me at the party 
one of my old friends gave. I had 
promised to help and could not back out 
even though I knew that he would be 
there-with her. Barely three days had 
passed since the night the crystal piece 
shattered. I was a wreck inside, but kept 
up a smiling front.

     I quietly helped in the cooking, silently 
stirring the mixture for one of the cakes 
and icing another cake. 

     "Are you all right?" asked Lizzie, whose 
party it was. "You've been looking very 
pale lately."

     Was it that obvious? I tried to smile.

     "Oh." 

     "If there's something wrong, you can 
always tell me," Lizzie told me softly, 
before yelling at her brother for stealing 
a cookie. "Andrew! Leave those cookies 
alone! I mean it!"

    I turned away and began slicing the 
potatoes for one of the salads. Slice, dice, 
cube, throw into bowl...

     "Hey, girls." A familiar, deep male voice 
rang through the kitchen.

     I would know that voice anywhere. 
What was he doing here so early? The 
party was due to begin at six and it was 
only half-past four. More importantly, 
what was he doing in the kitchen?

     "Hi," chorused the girls in the kitchen, 
all except me. I knew without having to 
look up that they were all flashing their 
most dazzling smiles at him. I preferred 
not to be blinded by toothpaste-ad
smiles and so kept my eyes down.

     The knife I was using slipped and slit my 
finger, neatly taking off the skin and 
then some. I gave a cry of pain, dropped 
the knife and snatched up a paper 
napkin to stave the bleeding. 

     "What's wrong?" cried Lizzie in alarm.

     "Nothing, cut myself, that's all," I 
answered, holding back tears. I bit my 
lip at the pain and walked over to the 
sink to wash the wound. I watched 
almost dazedly as the water flew 
mercilessly across the blood, turning 
from clear crystal to a pinkish red.

     "That's quite a deep cut you have." 

      Warm arms encircled me from behind 
and strong hands took hold of my 
suddenly shaking fingers and held the 
injured digit firmly yet gently under the 
running water. 

     I could smell the cologne he was using. 
It was rich and sweet, musky and 
seemed to carry more than a hint of 
roses, which just happen to be my 
favourite flower. I was getting very 
nervous. I did not want to be near him 
and tried to wiggle some space between 
the two of us, but he leant in even more 
closely and effectively trapped me 
between the cool formica of the kitchen 
counter and the heat of his body. You 
could barely separate us with a hair. I 
felt very, very hot, and it had nothing to 
do with the weather. What was he trying 
to do to me?
 
     He's not yours, don't think of him that way! 
screamed a little voice in my head. My 
eyes were wet and a tear slid down my 
cheek.

    He bandaged my poor finger while I sat 
on a chair, frowning and wondering how 
to get away from the very pleasant feel 
of his fingers caressing mine as he 
played doctor. How was I going to keep 
up this façade if I felt shock waves 
coursing through me with his every 
touch? How?

    "Feeling better?" He looked up at me. 

     I kept my eyes on my finger, knowing 
that I would lose all control if I ever met 
his eyes. "Yeah, thanks." I sounded 
shaky, even to myself. I wiggled my 
finger and winced a little at the pain. 
"Uh, I don't think I'm going to do that 
again." 

    I got up, but he caught my wrist.

    "Look at me," he said quietly. "Please-"

     I froze. Huh? What did he want?

   "Sere, Darien, you two finished over 
there?"

     I was so happy to hear Lizzie that I
beamed joyfully at her, tearing my wrist 
from his grasp. "Yeah, I'm ready to cook 
some more! Bring on the, er, whatever!"

     I felt him brush past me and electricity 
shot through me at the brief touch. 
Unfortunately, I also caught his soft 
words. "We'll finish this later."

    "Hi." A new voice broke in.

    I looked up. It was his girlfriend, the
gorgeous dark-haired girl with the green 
eyes.
   
    "Hi, Alexandra!" greeted Lizzie. She 
noticed my face. "Darien, haven't you 
introduced Alexandra to Serena here?"

     Darien cleared his throat, flushing. "Um, 
Alex, this is Serena. Serena, Alex. She's 
my-my girlfriend."

     Alexandra. A name fit for a princess and 
a queen. It fitted her too. She was 
graceful and wonderful, completely 
perfect and worthy of him.

    "Hi, Serena." The dark-haired girl smiled 
at me.

    I couldn't hate her. Her smile was 
genuine and I've seen enough of fake 
smiles to be a decent judge. "Hi."

    "So you're Serena. Darien's told me so 
much about you that I've been dying to 
meet you."

     He has?! I shot a glance at Dare, who 
coughed slightly.

     "None of it good, I'll bet," I remarked.

     She laughed. "Oh, I like you! Anyway, 
I'm glad to meet you at last. I'm hoping 
we'll be good friends. I was sorry to 
have missed you that day. I hope you're 
feeling better."

     She was talking about the night of the 
dinner. I gripped the edge of the table
with my uninjured hand and forced 
myself to speak calmly. "Uh-yes, thank 
you." 

     Darien interrupted then. "C'mon, Alex. I
want to show you off to the rest. Later, 
people." He slipped an arm around her 
and steered her away.

    Lizzie looked strangely at me, her eyes 
sympathetic. Had she guessed the truth? 
I dropped my eyes and went back to 
making salads-without the cutting.  
Throw in lettuce, then potatoes, add in 
the tomatoes and the celery and top it all 
off with Thousand Island dressing-but 
my eyes stubbornly filled up and I had 
to blink back tears again and again as I 
thumped the bottom of the salad
 dressing bottle fiercely.

    "Are you all right?" It was Lizzie again.

    I nodded, not looking up. "It's just the 
cut. It still hurts."

    "I saw it," spoke up Kayla, another 
friend helping out with the food. "That 
was quite a bit of flesh you took off 
there." She shuddered. "If I were you, I 
would have been bawling my eyes right
out."

     I took off as soon as I decently could 
and holed myself up in the guest room I 
had put my things in. I threw myself 
onto the bed and let the tears flow. How 
was I going to put up with seeing them 
in public without wanting to cry? Every 
minute I spent in their company was 
tantamount to ripping my heart out. 
How was I going to survive this?

     "Sere?" Lizzie poked her head into the 
room. She gasped when she saw me 
crying. "Sere, what's wrong?"

    I sat up and wiped the tears, trying to 
smile. "It's nothing, really, just the cut. 
It's really painful, you know. Kayla was 
right when she said that I took off quite 
a bit of flesh. I think I might have 
aggravated the wound just now."

    "Oh...Um, well, I just came to tell you 
that the party's started and there's 
someone asking for you. He won't give 
his name, but I think he's really cute. 
He's not from our town." Lizzie blushed 
a little and I couldn't help smiling 
teasingly.

     "Aww, someone's got a crush on 
someone..." I teased, getting up. I 
pretended to have forgotten my troubles 
since I didn't want Lizzie to ask 
awkward questions. "All right, let's go
meet this hot guy of yours! First, let me 
get changed..."

     I washed my face, applied a little make-
up and piled my hair on top of my head,
leaving a few long strands curling freely
about my face to soften the effect. I
then slipped on a simple two-piece
outfit that was made of teal blue satin.
The asymmetric, sleeveless top left one 
of my shoulders bare and the neckline
dipped daringly in a concave curve. It
was snug and tight fitting but flexible so 
that any wild dancing I might indulge in 
would not cause it to ride up and 
embarrass me. The skirt was flared and 
ended at mid-thigh, clinging softly to my 
hips as if melded to my body. Silver-
and-crystal earrings dangled from my 
ears and I wore a matching necklace and 
a single bracelet of wrought silver.  

    "Oh, wow," breathed Lizzie admiringly. 
"Sere, you look downright gorgeous 
and-and so, so sexy! I wish I had your 
figure." 

     I decided that I was ready and we went 
down.

     "Serena's here," Lizzie announced.

      A tall young man turned around. Tall, 
red-haired and familiar, he wore a 
mischievous grin. "Hey, Champion! 
Missed me?"