Part 3:

Looking at the street sign, Trunks looked down at the dog he continued to hold in the arm which wasn’t pushing his bike, and then glanced down the road. Looking at the numbers on buildings as he passed by.

“Well doggy, we’re going to need a name for you while we look for this Gohan person,” he mumbled, looking down at the dog in his arms.

“I’ll call you…Meetoo, like that?”

Meetoo yapped happily, tongue lolling out his mouth as he looked up at his new owner.

“I’ll take that as a yes, good thing. Well, lets go see which one is number 99!”

Inside the theatre, unknown to Trunks, a whole line of young men were sat waiting, all practising their lines for their up and coming audition. Many versions of “Oh father! It’s me, Trunks. I’ve waited so long to see you!”

In the main audition room, one of the actor stood in the middle of the stage in front of a bored looking young man with dark hair, watching the man in front of him with a sceptical look on his face before running his fingers through his long, spiky hair.

“Oh Father! It’s me! Your son Trunks, I’ve been waiting so long to see you!” The actor spoke in a loud, over the top voice and then lumbered over to the young man with a gait like John Wayne.

Finally sick of this, Goten turned out to where the audience would be sat and focused on his elder brother.

“Gohan! Even by my standards, this is pretty poor! And might I remind you,” he turned back to the actor. “That you are a prince, not a lumberjack or cowboy!”

Out in the audience, Gohan pushed a few spikes of hair away from his face before addressing his younger brother.

“Calm down Goten!”

Goten left the stage and stalked towards his brother.

“This is useless! We’ll never find anyone to play Prince Trunks from this bunch of useless…. commoners!” The younger man pushed a few locks of his head away from his face in frustration.

“For the amount or reward money being dished out, I think we can look a little longer. This is the big one…and all I need is the right boy.”

He motioned for another man to be sent through.

“I wouldn’t be on the outside anymore, with that amount of money I’d be welcome anywhere. I’d really belong somewhere if I could just find the right guy.” (AN: lol)

Back outside the theatre, Trunks had finally found the building.

Dropping his bike he rushed up the steps and into the now almost empty establishment.

“It’s no use Gohan, we’ll never find the right guy!” Goten moaned. (AN: Kinkay! ::just dies::) as he gathered his things ready for leaving.

“We will Goten, we HAVE to. Come on, he’s out there somewhere!”

Goten just snorted and walked out the door, Gohan following closely behind, as they strolled outside.

“He could be right under our nose!” Gohan continued, not put off in the slightest by Goten’s negative attitude.

Neither man saw Trunks as he ran up the steps, colliding with Gohan as his forehead crashed into the dark haired mans upper lip.

“Ouch! That really hurt!” Gohan whined, glaring at his brother for a moment, who was currently watching with a big grin on his face.

“I’m sorry! I’m…”

“That’s one hell of a hard head you’ve got there boy!” (AN: :: can’t take it any more and goes to take a break from all this perviness::)

Ignoring the comment, Trunks continued on, trying to catch his breath at the same time..

“I’m looking for Gohan. I need travelling papers – to Paris. I heard Gohan could help me.”

Gohan and Goten exchanged a wary look, Goten turning to the purple haired youth while Gohan looked around innocently and walked off ahead nonchalantly.

“Who did you hear it from?” asked Goten, concentrating on Trunks to see if he could catch any underlying scheming.

“I heard it from everyone who said I didn’t hear it from them! Do you know Gohan?”

Gohan continued to walk ahead, followed by Gohan and Trunks, although Trunks seemed to be having a much harder time with the crowd going in the opposite direction.

‘That’s it! I’m going to cut my hair, then maybe they’ll all stop thinking I’m a girl!’

Suddenly, without giving Trunks any warning, Goten loudly restarted the conversation.

“Providing travel papers is illegal!”

Trunks arched an eyebrow in confusion for a moment, until the other man continued in a quieter tone.

“I know Gohan well, maybe I can help you. Providing you have enough money to pay for this service…”

“Well I don’t have any money…” Trunks replied.

“Good day!” Goten said, patting him on the head with a smile before walking away.

“But I have a bike! I could sell it and…” Trunks growled quietly as the other man continued walking away, not even giving him a backwards glance.

He ran back off to the theatre where he had left his bike, only to find it missing.

“Oh great! Where the hell is my bike?”

Trunks looked around lost for a few moments, before spotting a policeman.

“Hey! My bike has been stolen!”

“Don’t be daft boy! There is no crime in our country!”

Trunks watched in disbelief as the man walked away.

“There’s no crime my arse. Well Meetoo, we’d better get going!”

Trunks ran off down the street to search for the man he had been talking to. Soon enough he spotted him with the other man turning the corner in the distance.

Running even faster to catch up, Trunks turned the corner and stopped.

The palace was now almost fully visible to him in the distance, although now it is run down and boarded up, while a section of it is still burnt. None of this stopped the lavender haired youth from being fascinated by the structure, noting the way the rays from the setting sun bathed it in a golden light, making it look like it must have done years before.

That night in one of the palace bedrooms, Gohan and Goten relaxed after the long day of auditions, Goten sat near the roaring fire, roasting a cabbage on a spit while Gohan sat by the window staring at the music box, which Trunks had dropped during the palace storming.

“…Even if we find him, what makes you think that Vegeta will even see us?”

Gohan held up the silver music box.

“He’ll see us.”

Outside the palace, Trunks approached tentatively and glanced around, hoping he wouldn’t get into trouble. He tried to open the door, straining to break the rusted lock, eventually growling to himself and giving up. Moving over to a boarded up window instead, he looked through to see if anyone had gone in there.

In the main ballroom, all the golden colours that had occupied the walls and floor in its former glory had faded and now the room looked dark and eerie. Hanging from the chandelier, Krillen was next to 18. He cleared his throat and waited for a response from the woman. Nothing. Smoothing his eyebrows out and making sure there was no dust on his head, he carried on.

“You…uhh…hang here often?” he asked, laughing nervously.

“’Hang’ get it? I said ‘hang’ and we’re both, you know, cause we’re hanging…and…uhh…what’s your sign?”

Once again there was no reaction from 18.

“What d’ya say we go get a bug to eat. Get it? A ‘bug’ to eat, cause we’re…”

18 rolled her eyes in disgust and flew away.

“I’m a Gemini!” Krillen tried in a last attempt.

In the palace bedroom, a loud crack sounded out from downstairs as the cabbage that Goten was trying to cook fell into the fire.

“What was that noise?”

“That was your dinner. I hope there’s no cabbage in Paris!”

“No, it came from downstairs, listen,” he put his finger to his lip as the sound of boards being torn off the window sounded through the palace, until all went silent again as, unknown to Gohan and Goten, Trunks climbed into the building.

Meetoo whimpered quietly as Trunks climbed into the palace and looked around the dark room he was stood in, with the small dog still in his arms. Wandering off, he stared at the faded glory of the palace, still continuing to be spellbound by it.

Stalking into the dining room, he bent down to inspect half of a broken plate that was lying on the floor. The instant he touched it though he pulled his hand away, his hand tingling slightly as his mind began trying to piece something beyond his comprehension together. Shaking his head to clear it, he waited for a few seconds before picking up the plate and studying the patterns on it, mainly the dancing bears in a pattern around the rim.

Leaving the room, he stalked through the doorway and found himself at the top of a huge staircase, which lead down to the once grand ballroom. Placing Meetoo down, he walked over to the edge of the stairway and began running his hands over the carved patterns in the banister, not noticing as Meetoo ran over to a precariously hanging curtain and began to tug on it with his teeth.

Starting violently as said curtain and rail crashed to the floor, Trunks looked over in shock, frozen to the spot until he saw a small shape beneath the material, trying to growl his way out.

“Phew! Don’t scare me like…” Trunks stopped mid sentence as a portrait of the Royal family that had occupied the palace rose up in front of him, struck by the moonlight, giving it a ghostly slow.

Trunks stood, mesmerised by the portrait for a few moments before turning round to look around the Ball Room, once again feeling a flow of memories just below the surface of his consciousness.

Quietly singing along to a half remembered tune under his breath, Trunks picked up the puppy and walked down the stairs to look around some more.

“ Dancing bears, painted wings. Things I almost remember, and a song someone sings, once upon a December,” As he walked down the staircase, Trunks tried to picture the ball room the way it would have been before the palace had been left to fall into ruin. Imagining that he was dressed in a finely tailored suit instead of the handed down clothes he worse now, Trunks began waltzing round the floor.

“Someone hold me safe and warm, horses prance through a silver storm. Figures dancing gracefully, across my memory.”

Continuing to dance and forgetting that there might be someone else around, Trunks raised his voice, enjoying the way the building made it echo slightly.

“Someone hold me safe and warm, horses prance through a silver storm. Figures dancing gracefully, across my memory.”

Gohan and Goten appeared at the top of the stairs and watched as a strange guy waltzed around the floor beneath them and sang to himself.

“Far away, long ago, glowing dim as an ember. Things my heart used to know, things it yearns to remember,” Trunks continued to sing and dance, completely oblivious to the two men watching him.

“And a song someone sings, once upon a December,” Trunks let himself become lost in his vision for the time being.

“Who are you?!?” Gohan’s voice rang out through the palace.

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