Side Story 2: Raye & Jadeite-- Part I
Author: Alsepang
Rating: PG-13
E-mail: alsepang@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: Called fanfiction for a good reason. Fiction,
            characters borrowed, non-profit, and by a fan.
            Fans should be encouraged. 'Tis detractors who
            should be shot. :)

Alse's Soapbox: I should've updated earlier, but you know,
                schoolwork had to come first. *sighs* All
                I can say is, my grades had better reflect
                the months I've spent grimly ignoring my
                inner screams to get some writing done.

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


            The blazing heat of a Japanese summer.

            A little girl with long black hair in neat
plaits, and deep violet eyes sparkling with laughter and
mischief.

            A garden hose spraying water freely about.

            The same little girl tripping and falling
in the soil, but still laughing as she rises sturdily
to her feet. A little fall never breaks such a spirit
as the little girl has.

             A tall, stern-looking man walks into the
garden, accompanied by two important-looking men. The
first man stops and stares at the little girl as if he
cannot believe his eyes.

             An enraged shout from the stern-looking
man brings the household staff running. The child's
nanny is terrified, bowing repeatedly, her face whiter
than a geisha's painted mask of rice powder.

             The little girl is frozen, wide-eyed,
snatched up by her frightened nanny and rushed into
the house, but she will never forget the words of an
angry man.

             "Useless fool! What do I hire you for!
How dare you let her wander about like that! Take her
out of my sight! She should be shut up in her room!
Look at her! So dirty! A total disgrace! Completely
useless!"

             Humiliation is the lesson she has been
taught, although she is still too young to know its
name.

     *          *           *             *           *

             Ten years later.

             Hino Rei-- now Raye Hilton.

             A tall, stunning girl with raven black
hair that swings to mid-thigh, and glorious eyes of
deep violet, almost black, with a matchless skin of
milk and roses; the black, glossy hair is from her
Japanese heritage, as is her elegant bearing and
slender appearance; her eyes and skin, and the
delicate bridge of her nose, are distinctly European.

             A dance held by a society-- her first at
the prestigious English college she attends.

            She receives a formal invitation, beautifully
penned and accompanied by a single white Casablanca, from
a young man whom she is not well acquainted with, but whom
she has had a serious crush on since she first laid eyes on
him. His name is Jadeite Jensen and he is Norwegian-American,
an exchange student there for more than half a year now.
Popular and a jolly good sport, first-class with the oars and
with dance moves that are absolutely the very *last* word in
dance steps, he is extremely sought after. Half the girls in
the college are in love with him already!

            The raven-haired beauty is flattered and delighted
by this thoughtful, old-fashioned invitation. She sends a simple,
handwritten reply. 'Thank you; I should be delighted. Raye.'

            She is ready in a pert slip of a dress, all clinging
burgundy satin and diamante-speckled lace-- pretty, sexy and
elegant. But he does not turn up.

            Hell hath no fury like the woman scorned. In her
mind, this is also a matter of honour-- you do not stand up
a girl you have invited and then go to the same party with
another woman on your arm. Only a base, dishonourable cad
would commit such a crime.

            He is with another, a redhead who has almost
every man at the party eating out of her hands-- a sultry,
redheaded beauty who tosses Raye a cold, triumphant laugh
when the girl enters the dance, late and without her promised
escort. A redhead who is her deadly enemy. A redhead who will,
a year later, burst upon the world as the newest supermodel
sensation, Titiane.

            Fire sears her spirit and burns in her veins.

            The young man splutters, stunned as he turns to
face the person who has emptied the contents of a flute of
alcohol over him. The most beautiful girl he has ever seen
is standing there, fire in her eyes, crimson lips pressed
together. She throws him a glance of pure hatred and then
turns and steps out, head high, step dignified.

           She will hate burgundy dresses and casablancas
for a long time.

           *          *           *             *           *

           Another four years pass.

           She has just started work in a world-famous firm.
It pays well, and she has managed to find a small apartment she
can share with another friend, a young female doctor. The hours
of commuting to and from the city are long, but it cannot be
helped. Staying in the city is too expensive.

           First week into her work and she is introduced, with
many giggles and whispers, to the company's hottest hunk, who is
busy at the the coffee-maker, chatting pleasantly with another hunk.

          He turns to face her. His eyes widen, stunned at her
beauty, and he sputters as his coffee nearly chokes him. He remembers
her from a night years ago, when she ruined his suit by tipping the
contents of a glass over his head. Sometimes he still dreams of it.

          She doesn't say anything. She turns away, eyes narrowed,
and steps away, head high, step dignified.

          You only have to learn the meaning of humiliation once
in your life to remember forever exactly what it means. She has
learnt it twice.



(c) Copyright 2002 Alsepang Tyun