- Anastasie Gabriella Morreau: The Gabbage -

..This right now, these are my thoughts. Yup, you're hearing my thoughts. I guess, you could say I'm the narrator of this story..? My name is Anastasie, that French for resurrected or something stupid like that. It's the French form of Anastasia, but.. if you ever call me Anastasia I'll hurt you. I'm not Russian. I'm French! FRENCH! Get it? Right, and no I'm not fluent.. Why? Because I'm from the US… Well I'm not even full blooded. But I'm off of the point.

These are my thoughts, I narrator this story. I'm Anastasie Gabriella Morreau. Eighteen, bi-sexual and I know everything there is to know. Like ask me something...

Why is the sky blue..? Because I said so that's why.

Right so, I'm bi-sexual. My bestfriend Celeste is a Lesbian.. Mmmn, Celeste. Right, she has a girlfriend. Agony of agonies that, I can't stand the witch, she is so frakking annoying! One of those holier-than-thou because she's completely a lesbian, hates men. I can't staaaaand her.

Right moving on, Celeste's step-brother is gay, he's so cute. He's single, which makes me cry. CRY! The boy deserves to have someone. He also makes me wish I were a gay, or bi-sexual male. See me? I'm shaking my fist at God right now, because he made me a woman. Stupid God in his infallible wisdom.. Whatever.

There are only two more, important characters in this cast. I promise! Oh, I forgot to mention his name.. Celeste's brother's name is Spencer. Anywise, the last two. They would be my older brother Royce " don't-ever-call-him-Roy" Morreau. And his best-friend Kristian. Kristian is yummy, I wish he knew I was alive, but he doesn't. Have I mentioned my brother is totally straight? And we don't actually get along too well. Haven't since I blew up on my father telling him I was 'gay' when he was going off about how God would come back and clean up this world, and get rid of us sinners.

That was half a year ago I guess. Dad got real quiet, mom started to sob. And Royce? Well he just looked at him funny for a while, like he was disappointed? DISAPPOINTED! Can you believe that, like being attracted to both men and women is such a crime. Jesus. It's not like I was going to carry on the family's good name anywise. I'm a bum, and don't plan to do much in life. Ever.

Anywise, so now the characters are set. Wanna know where I am..? Well here's what's going on in my world right now..

Anastasie's green eyes peer upward at her brother as he comes into the family room, bringing Kristian along with him. Before Anastasie can even set eyes on the tall lanky-hunk of a man-god her brother is glaring at her and stating loud enough for Kristian to hear, "Don't go all gaga Stasie. And while you're at it, get out we got things to do."

Can you believe this? He was never this mean to me when he thought I was straight! Jesus, it's like he wants my life to be living hell..

"Bite me jerk." Anastasie retorts, picking up her book and setting it onto her lap once more. Reaching for her bowl of pretzels. She lets out a little sigh as she continues to flip through the pages. It's a book by Poppy Z. Brite. In truth it's not as good as some of the stuff she reads online. But her parents have told her that if she doesn't start spending time away from her computer she's going to get it taken away for a month. And hey, reading is the best.

Have I mentioned I love slash fics? I'm addicted; I read them online all the time! But why is it all of the good fics are about boys? Don't get me wrong I love gay-fics. But I'd like a lesbian fic that didn't suck every once and while. Le si- IAAAA!

"AAIH! WHAT THE FRAK? Kristian you bit me!" Comes the sudden squeal from the obsidian haired girl, the pretzels go flying. And Royce gives some kind of a mocking retort as Stasie fights Kristian off of her.

Kristian is tall, very tall. He's got lithe sinewy muscles, built like a rock. When he decides that he's going to pin someone down, they get pinned down. And at the moment he's decided on keeping Ana pinned down to her chair. Even as she half-heartedly struggles, giving shrieking laughter. Such laughter turns into another squeal as the red headed college student leans down and bites Stasie on the shoulder again. Letting go over her shoulder he murmurs in a dark voice, "I'm sorry I thought you told me to bite you, should I stop?"

No! Don't ssstoop! God you have sexy teeth!

"Yes! You jerk! I didn't tell you to bite me! I was talking to Royce." The green-eyed girl snorts and moves to knee Kristian in the gut, which results in him groaning and standing up.

"Ah, but didn't you know I'm the jerk? Royce is the asshole, remember?" He chuckles in amusement as his amber eyes peer down at Ana. Kristian is the only black man she knows to have red hair. He's half Irish, half Haitian.

Good lord, the mouth on this man. Sexy as it is, it's so trashy. Have I mentioned I abhor foul language? Yes that's right! WINCE! Wince and apologize..

The tall college student leans back down and picks up the pretzels that got spilt while Anastasie rights herself. Fixing her clothing that mixed up in the shuffle as well as redoing her hair and finding her page in the book. Kristian voice is chastised at the glare he gets from the girl. Murmuring, "Sorry Stasie.. Forgot about your no swearing policy."

"Whipped like cream." In tones Royce. Who is then chased out of the room by Kristian. Leaving Ana to pick up all of the pretzels from the ground with a sigh. Fixing the chair that nearly toppled backward. Shaking her head. When she finally finishes she finds a spot on the ground. Gently touching the still bruised area of her skin. A faint smile spreading over her lips.

Le sigh, but a sexy mouth he does have..

"ANA-STA-SIE GAB-RI-ELA MOR-REAU!" Comes a high-pitched feminine voice, much like Stasie's own. Only older, more refined. And a bit more snobbish. The girl winces as she bolts upright and goes looking for a closet to hide in. Finding the one just right of the entertainment stand to be mostly empty. She crams herself in and closes the door.

Oh no! Rasa FRAKKIN! What did I do now?

"Stasie where are you?" comes the voice again. A little annoyed, as well as a little amused. Shouting from inside of the family room this time, "Are you in here? Come out Ana, you're not in trouble I want you try on some clothing I made for you."

Oh no way in Dante's Inferno am I coming out of this closet now.

"Gabby you know it's just a time before I find you!" Comes that familiar voice once more. Closer to the closet. Inside of it Anastasie winces, her mother never calls her Gabby unless something is important. Meaning, there is no way that Stasie can get out of this. This is going to be nightmare.

C'mon Mom.. Leave me alone. I don't want to try on anymore dresses this week! This will be the tenth, you know I never wear them.. Eek! What is that?! Oh shit is it a sp-i-der crawling down my back? OH SOOT! IT BIT ME! AAWRG

"IT BIT ME AAAH FRAKKING BLOODY HAAAIL!" Anastasie suddenly screams, and the door is jerked open. The obsidian haired girl comes rushing out. Running around in circles batting at her back wildly until she rams into her father.

Richard Morreau is in his late fifties; hair graying, face lined with age, but his blue eyes are ever bright and peer down at his daughter. His hands are strong and warm; she can always rely on them to be supportive. They take hold of her. One on her shoulder the other carefully flicking the spider from the back of her neck.

Aaw, good old Dad! You're an angel, you're Jesus, you're the pope, you're Elvis! Oh you no you don't! I am-

"I am not trying on anymore dresses this week mom!" Would come her weak protest, even as her hand was taken by the older carbon copy of herself. Jolyn Morreau looked exactly like her daughter, only in her late thirties, bordering on forties. Anastasie would be dragged off and into the sewing room to dry on dresses for the rest of the day.

- The Next Day -

Celeste's house is.. small. Sometimes I feel guilty, 'cause Dad's family has been rich since dirt was young. And every in my life I've never had to work for. And Celeste's family struggles to stay afloat. I wish she'd let my dad pay for her medical school bills. He keeps telling her he will, but she keeps refusing. One of these days I'm going to shake and tell her we owe it to her, and her family! The workers of this country. Grah.. Anywise, I'm I love my Celeste.

I've loved her since I first laid eyes on her; she had such a caring soul. I wish I were as giving as her.. But anywise I'm not gonna gush too much..

Knock.. Knock..

Anastasie knocks on Celeste's door, picking at her shirt nervously. Celeste always makes her feel self-conscious. She's so beautiful and graceful, so perfect. Maybe a little to thin for Stasie's taste, but she does it nicely. Ana usually feels fat, or bloated around her. And like she had too left-feet. Talk about just feel out of place, it's a horrible feeling, she knows. But she can't help it.

The door opens, and black eyes peer out from behind glasses. Long black bangs hang infront of those glasses; the boy standing peeking out from around the door is positively mousy, staring at her for a moment. Before stepping back and letting her in. Celeste is nineteen, and Spencer is seventeen. And all three of the Outré Trio's birthdays go in order from youngest to oldest. So for a day Spencer and Anastasie are the same age. And then for a day Celeste and Ana are the same age. They all celebrate on the same day. Every year no matter what anyone else wants.

"Cel isn't here at the moment, Gabbage." Spencer says as he steps back, letting out an 'OMPH!' as he finds himself suddenly squished into Anastasie's chest. The girl who is by far taller would spin him around for a moment, and then set him down. Only to pout at him. The small boy would reach on pale hand up to push his glasses back in place. Staring at her firmly with a stare and he'd repeat, "Celeste isn't here, honey-bunch."

He's so cute when he's annoyed at me. I wish he wasn't gay... No! I like that he's gay. I wish I were a male... A gay male. Le sigh.

"Aaw, don't tell me she's out with the hag." Anastasie would ask, as she'd push herself into the house. Marching toward his room, knowing that if he said she wasn't here. Celeste wouldn't be there. She'd bounce on her heels, as she'd head toward the small room, pushing open the door. Heading straight for the CD player, looking through his collection of Ani di Franco CDs and other stuff, like Tori Amos, and Jakalope.

Oooh, he has the Ani CD I need! Tehehe, I'll burrow it..

Just as the CD would have slipped inside of Anastasie's shirt it would be taken from her and set far from her reach, for the moment. A chastising voice, "Ana, don't steal my CDs. Buy your own for heaven's sake. What is it with you and stealing things?" A slight pause as the boy would bounce onto his bed. Flicking on a Tracy Chapman CD and humming for a moment. Before finally answering her question, "Yes, she's out with the whore. I can't stand that fucking bit- Ah shi iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiite.. Sorry Ana."

Why does everyone have been so foul mouthed? My Creative-Writing teacher, who by the way is the most awesome guy on the face of the planet, says that people who cuss just aren't smart enough to express themselves in other ways. WHY? Why must people cuss? Cripes! It only makes you look ignorant! IG'NANT!

"Whatever, Spence. It's not like I'm not used to it. Krissy practically lives at our house these days and he's like so.. freaking foul mouthed. He makes you look like a saint, I swear it." Would come Ana's indignant reply, sniffing a little. Was it so much to ask that people didn't swear around her? Really, it couldn't be that horrible to not cuss and swear, and curse, and give oaths around her. It was only one of the twenty-billion things she asked off people.

"One has to wonder what you see in the guy, Gabbage." Spencer would ask, only he didn't phrase it as a question. Nor did her voice tilt up in a questioning lilt. After a pause as he'd fiddle with his glasses, pulling them off to clean them with a bottle of rubbing alcohol he had sitting on the floor next to his bed. He'd state, "I mean other then that body. He has a foul mouth, he's violent. He's stubborn, a jerk. Can't dance, and eats like a pig."

Uh-oh, here it comes!

"Oh, I get it. Prefect match for you, other then the swearing you and him are almost the same person. Just different genders. Mmhn, perfect for you. Good luck." Spencer would respond in a teasing manner. Well to an outsider it would look like he was ripping into her. His face casually blank, not a hint of a smile. But Gabby knew better.

Maybe.. not..?

"I personally-"

Ah, here it comes..

"Think your brother is a fine specimen of manhood at it's best. Built like a linebacker, strong, gentle. Calm, good sense of humor.. Goldenly handsome." Spencer would finish, with that look in his eyes. Even as he put his glasses back on. The kind of look, where you just know he's picturing a white picket fence, 2.5 kids, and a small yellow terrier. Well, alright.. Maybe he's picturing a huge condo, a half-naked bronzed Royce walking around fawning all over him.

"I.." Stasie would trail off, her brother was straight. That she knew for sure, absolutely for sure. He was straight. – Completely. Before she could even start to talk again Spencer would lift up at hand.

He'd also move to turn off his stereo, take Stasie by the arm and slowly pull her toward the door. Replying, "I know. I know he's so straight he'd have a hard-on for Pamela Lee Anderson, okay? C'mon lets go visit your folks they invited me for dinner. I think your dad's going to offer to pay for my college again.."

"You going to accept this time..?" Anastasie tried to keep the hope from her voice. Knowing there was no other way for him to go to college. The family made just enough money for finical aid to be a problem. But not enough to cover student loans.

Please, Spencer.. PLLLEEEASE.

"Yeah.." Would come the slightly shamed reply. Followed by a squeal, as he'd once more be squished to Ana. And they dragged out the door toward the car outside of the house.