Disclaimer 2: The song, "Strong One" is done by Kelita and I don't own it
either.
Strong One
By Jade_Max
Shoulder length golden hair flew ever which way as she ducked from the
thrown shot glass. The small, delicate projectile hit a picture hanging on the
ivory wall and shattered, both the picture and the glass, raining razor sharp
shards down on the carpeted floor.
"Now look what you've done!" yelled the angry voice, "Your mother won't
like that mess when she comes home! Clean it up you lazy good for nothing 6
year old, why, in my day a girl respected her father..." she blocked out the
rest of the hurtful litany and stood still, watching her father as he staggered
back to the bar and poured himself another shot of whiskey after searching for
a moment for a new glass.
She quickly went and got the hand vacuum and cleaned up the glass before anyone
could be hurt. She crouched on the floor next to the wall as her father
started berating her for taking so long to get rid of that mess. She sighed,
knowing already it was useless to argue back... when he got like this it was
best just to stay quiet and not get in the way. She blocked out all of his
hurtful words and smiled through the tightness in her throat, promising herself
she would be a good girl so he wouldn't drink...
****
"'Rena, why does daddy yell so much?" asked the little boy, his brown eyes
looking fearfully at the man snoring on the couch.
The little girl hugged her brother close, "He just misses mommy, Sammy. We all
do, Daddy just doesn't know how to show it so he yells a lot and pretends she's
still here."
Sammy hugged his sister, "I wish he wouldn't yell, he makes me want to cry."
"It's alright to cry, Sammy, go ahead, I won't let daddy hurt you..."
The little boy buried his face in his sister's shoulder and cried as she
stoically held him and comforted him. She pushed the urge to cry away and told
herself that no matter what she would never let her dad hurt her brother.
-Ever since I was a young girl, I've been strong for everybody else.-
A quick hand darted out to catch the shot glass as it flew towards her face.
She snagged it a good foot from her and pocketed it.
Blurry eyes looked at her, confused, "What did you do with my shot glass you
little thief!" yelled a slurred voice. He started towards her as she pulled
the shot glass out of her pocket and held it out to him, hating herself for
doing so.
Maybe, just maybe, if she hid all of his glasses he'd stop drinking. He held
in his hand her latest test, staring at the numbers through blurred eyes. "Is
90% the best you can do? With marks like that your mother will take the strap
to you when she gets home! You should be acing this test with all of the time
you spend studying at your friend's places! What grade are you in anyway?"
She spoke for the first time since she'd gotten home and found her father in
his cups again, just like every night when she got home, "Grade nine, dad."
Her voice was soft, "And Sam is in grade seven."
"I know what grade my son is in, dammit! You good for nothing bitch!" he
yelled at her, throwing the test paper at her, "I'm going to talk to your
teachers about getting you a math tutor! You need to do better, Serena, if you
-ever- want to make it in the world! 90% may be good enough to get you into
honours in high school but..."
She blocked out his voice, swallowing once as she closed her eyes and let
everything slide off her back. She'd been listening to his rant and rave at
her, insulting her beyond belief and never accepting her for what she was able
to do since she was little. She'd learned to live with it, yearning only for
his approval.
She'd been doing all of the chores for years now, ever since her mother had
died when she was six and her father had started drinking. She was working at
a part time job after school to help pay the bills her father didn't pay any
attention to anymore, and to buy food for herself and her younger brother. Her
father only seemed to buy, and to live on, alcohol. In the morning he was
perfectly pleasant, minus the effects of his ever present hangovers.
Serena cooked every meal possible, did most of the chores and paid a lot of the
bills with her paycheque. She was also averaging a 95 in school and passing
off her working hours as studying, knowing her father would take any money she
made, or try, and put it into alcohol.
Finally he settled into his easy chair, his eyes bloodshot and hazy. He turned
on the TV and flipped to the football game before closing his eyes and
beginning to snore loudly.
Serena looked at him dispassionately. She couldn't remember the last time
she'd felt pity for her father, he was a hulk, a man bent on killing himself
through the bottle. She sighed, going to collect her coat. She took one look
back at her father. He snorted loudly in his sleep and continued to snore,
louder than before. She stepped outside, closing the door behind her softly,
before locking it.
-Now that I'm a little older, I think it's time I let myself...-
Serena inhaled deeply as she stepped off the steps of her house. She was
dressed in patched jeans and a worn pink-grey sweater. It had been almost a
year since she'd gotten new clothes so she was applying herself to her sewing
classes and was almost good enough to start making her own clothes. If her
father kept pouring more and more money into it as he already was she was
willing to be that she and her brother would be wearing news clothes in time,
but that she'd have to make them out of old clothes. She couldn't remember the
last time she'd gotten a new pair of jeans or a new shirt.
She let every stress of her home life fall away from her as she walked, glad
that her brother was at a friend's house for the night. 'If only I could do
the same' she thought, sadly. All of her friends had met her father when sober
and they through he was great. And he was, he was the best father when he
wasn't drinking. Funny, charming, witty and the perfect host. She had no one
to talk to about when he was like this though, and by now she was used to it.
Just once, she wanted to find someone who would listen to her though. Someone
who wouldn't judge, who would understand what she was doing and why. "Why did
you never stop, dad?" she whispered, looking up into the starlight heavens.
She sighed again, not expecting a response and stuffed her hands into her jeans
before bowing her head and continuing her walk. She kept her eyes on her feet,
walking slowly. She made a tour of Tokyo, as she normally did on her nightly
walks. They were her escape from the world inside her house. The verbally
abusive world she had to live with every day. She shook off her thoughts and
headed for her favourite place in all of Tokyo. The Cemetery. She crossed one
of the busier streets and opened the small pedestrian gate. It shrieked in
protest, needing oil, and clanged shut behind her as she stepped through.
Serena quickly made her way through the well maintained graves, the lines of
head stones, to a solitary plot on the far side, a plot marked with a small
statue of the virgin Mary holding baby Jesus. A bench was next to the plot, a
testament to how many hours she'd spent in this particular spot. She settled
onto the bench and read the headstone aloud, as she did every time she came to
visit this grave.
"In loving memory of Rose Tuskino. Mother, sister, and cherished wife, to be
remembered always."
Serena stopped there, feeling a strange tightness in her throat and swallowed,
getting rid of it. "Mother, can you help father?" she asked quietly,
beseeching her mother's spirit to look after him as she always did, "Can you
give him hope, a chance for living again? Can you get him out of the bottle
before he hurts either me or Sammy? Mom, please, if you can hear me, give him
a reason to live again... He has no hope, I'm afraid all he wants to do is die
and if he does Sammy and I can't look out for ourselves yet... Please, mom, if
you can hear me, help him..."
She stopped suddenly, feeling as if she was being watched. She whirled to her
feet, her waist length braid thudding against her shoulders. She took a
started step back when she saw it was a young man that was watching her. "Can
I help you?" she asked pleasantly, bringing the mask of friendliness she always
wore out. She wanted to scream at this man not to bother her but she couldn't.
After being screamed at for most of her life she couldn't bear the thought of
doing it to someone else.
He shook his head. She noticed that he had ebony coloured hair and that his
bangs were just a trifle too long, falling into his eyes with the movement.
She met his gaze squarely for a moment and then looked away. She got the
impression of deep azure blue, stormy and caring, but couldn't hold his gaze.
"Who were you talking to?" he asked her softly.
She felt his gaze on her, starting at her well run in runners, traveling over
her worn, patched, denim up to her second hand sweater. She pulled at the
fraying cuffs, trying to hide them from his view, "My mother," she motioned to
the head stone as she did, feeling that strange tightness again but swallowed
again and it disappeared.
"Your... Oh, I see." His voice was low, caring and compassionate, filled with
sympathy and understanding.
She looked up to meet his gaze, "She's been gone a long time, I just like to
come and keep her company sometimes. I miss having her around the house."
He nodded, his eyes locking onto hers as she spoke, "How long has she been..."
he seemed to search for a word that wasn't insensitive.
"Dead? Well, almost ten years." She gaze traveled back to the head stone, "I'm
sorry, can I help you with something else, I really should be going."
He shook his head, "I was hoping I could ask you why, if you were related,
which I now know you are, you don't even look sad when you're sitting by her
head stone. You just seem..." he looked for the word, "detached..." he said at
last.
Serena shrugged, not meeting his gaze, "I'm used to it. Life is hard and you
learn to live with what you're given." Her voice held something close to
bitterness as she spoke quietly.
He stepped closer to her, ducking his head to catch her words, "Surely life
hasn't been that rough," he said gently, "You still have your dad, right?"
Serena's gaze flew to his and hers closed, blocking him out as she pulled
herself to her full height. "I have to run, nice meeting you." She said
quickly, before pushing past him without answering.
The dark haired man didn't push, didn't follow. He stared after her, wondering
who she was and why she was so bitter on life already.
-Cry, when I need to, be shy, if I want to. Don't have to keep a smile upon my face...-
Serena tossed her book bag into her locker at the swimming pool and grabbed her
swim suit before shutting the locker. "Lucy, what's our day look like today?"
she called as she quickly changed into her suit. She stuffed her clothes into
the locker, pulled out her towel, and finally locked it.
A petite blonde popped her head around the corner, "More brats wanting to get
in the waves Sere. How'd your visit to your mom go this weekend?"
Serena shrugged, turning away, "It was fine. Look, I'll take the young ones,
you take the older ones, alright?"
Lucy frowned, "Well, alright by me. See ya in the pool Sere!"
Serena heard her colleague go and slammed her fist into her locker. After her
meeting with the mysterious young man the other evening she'd returned home to
find that her father had passed out completely. She'd checked his pulse and
done CPR when she found he had no pulse and no breathing. Terrified, she'd
done it by reaction and hadn't even called an ambulance.
She'd gotten him breathing again, set up an appointment for him with the doctor
and gone to bed. Monday morning she'd found out he'd cancelled the appointment
and instead taken the day off work. He'd started drinking that morning. She
put her head against the locker and mentally blocked off the emotion. She
plastered a smile, a genuine smile over the mask of an easygoing fun-loving
teenager and went out to do her job.
-I'm so tired of Pretending, make believing everything's alright.-
"How come there's no damn food in this house?"
Serena flinched as her father's angry voice echoed through the halls. She'd
just gotten home from work and had forgotten to go shopping. "Sorry dad, if
you would give me some money I can go to the super market." She told him,
walking into the kitchen. Her voice was quiet, but held a firm tone telling
that she knew what she was doing.
He grumbled, "Do you think I'm made of money?"
Serena shook her head, "No dad, but I can't buy food without money."
He grumbled some more and pulled out his wallet, nearly dropping it as his
hands shook. He opened it and pulled out three hundreds and handed them to
her. "Here. And stop by the liquor store on your way back, I'm almost out of
whiskey."
Serena sighed. She'd been through this before, "Dad, I can't buy liquor for
another two years," she told him.
He blinked. "Oh, then what are you good for?! Get out! And bring me my food,
or don't come back!" he yelled, slamming his fist down on the table.
Serena did as she was told and tore out of the house, and for the first time in
her life, slammed the door behind her.
*****
Serena quickly made her way to the super market, running the whole way and
stopping only when she was at the doors. She took in a deep breath and closed
her eyes, trying to find her center, her focus. She closed her eyes and put
her head against the cool glass of the supermarket windows. Her eyes flew open
as a gentle hand suddenly touched her face, "Are you alright?" asked a deep,
concerned voice.
She turned, her jaw working wordlessly. 'Who -is- this guy?' she asked herself
silently as she looked into the same eyes as the other day. He was close to
her this time and she caught the full effect of his dashingly handsome
features. She was almost starting to expect him to be around when she needed
someone to talk too and stubbornly pushed the thought away, knowing she
couldn't rely on anyone else. She felt her legs start to turn to jelly and
adverted her eyes, "I think so," she finally replied, "Just a little winded."
He wasn't buying it, she could tell by the way he didn't move. Finally he
extended his hand to her, "Darien Chiba."
She looked back up and him and then offered him a friendly, open smile, "Serena
Tuskino." She took the offered hand and shook it firmly.
Darien pulled her away from the window and finally let go of her hand, "Going
to do some shopping?"
up a few things for my dad, that's all." She smiled at him, "Good to see you
again, Darien, but I need to get this finished and get back as soon as
possible. Be seeing you." She tossed him a light wave and entered the Market.
She didn't see his frown nor his scrunched up eyebrows. Finally he sighed and
walked away.
*****
Serena sighed as she carried the last of the groceries out of the cab and then
paid the cabbie, thanking him profusely for helping her. The woman who was
driving the cab just smiled and said it was her pleasure before climbing back
in her car and driving off.
She stepped into the house carrying the last bag and ducked as a stress ball
came flying at her. "About time you got home," yelled the angry voice. She
sighed, he was always yelling, never speaking... she was surprised he didn't
lose his voice! "Where have you been?! Sneaking around seeing boys!?"
She sighed, "No dad, I went to the grocery store like you asked me too. I came
straight home."
He hrumphed and downed the shot of straight whiskey in his hand easily before
pouring himself another one. He tossed that one back too. He continued the
cycle for about six more and then dropped the glass and just chugged the
whiskey straight from the bottle.
She watched him horrified, "Dad, that's not healthy, your heart stopped last
night, it could happen again!" she told him, speaking out against his drinking
for the first time.
"Shut up, whench and fix me my dinner!" he shouted at her. "Your mother was
never so mouthy, she was a proper woman with long hair, wore skirts all the
time and kept her mouth shut, why can't you do that?! Maybe you need to be
taught a lesson!" he growled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Serena retreated to the kitchen, "Yes sir," she sighed.
He backed off, going back to his chair and his drink. Serena looked at herself
in the polished counter tops and saw a miserable creature staring back at her.
She turned from the miserable image, focusing instead on the encounter with
Darien today as she fixed dinner for her family.
She was halfway through it when the phone rang and she scooped it up off the
receiver, "Tuskino residence, Serena speaking."
"'Rena? You don't mind if I stay at Mike's tonight, do ya? School is almost
out for holidays and I don't have to be in before noon and his parents said
they could drop us off tomorrow."
"Sammy, I'm glad you're having fun at Mike's but don't you think you should
come home once in a while?"
There was a sigh on the other end, "'Rena, you know how I feel about dad. I
don't know how you can stand it! He scares me, I'm terrified he's going to do
something to you one day. Maybe we should just leave."
"And go where Sammy?" she asked as she stirred dinner with a spatula, keeping
an ear out for her father, who was already snoring loudly in the other room.
"This is our home, weather dad is sober or not, we belong here. Besides, I
don't make enough to support us yet."
Sammy sighed, "I know, but I'll be home tomorrow, alright?"
"Sure Sam, have fun tomorrow."
-I hide all of my feelings.-
Serena hung up the phone, her brother's words echoing in her ears 'How can you
stand it... how can you stand it... how can you stand it...' she shook her head
to clear it and rescued dinner. It was perfect, as always. She dished it out
for two, put the rest in the fridge and carried the plate to the living room to
wake for father for dinner. 'This is the last time I help,' she swore, 'no
matter how bad it gets, if I have to leave to make him see what he's done to
our family I will.'
She prodded his shoulder and he woke, snorting. "Whadayawant"
"Dinner, dad." She offered him the plate and her smacked it out of her hands,
"Not hungry, go away you worthless bitch. And clean up the damn mess. Damn
good for nothing kids, never help out. And when you're done go see your math
tutor Darien Chiba or some such thing. Damn worthless kids, don't know how to
do their own bloody..." he muttered as he quickly passed out.
Serena felt the tightness in her throat from the last few days come back. She
ran upstairs, leaving the mess on the floor, grabbed her coat, bag, a couple
sets of extra clothes, her small sleeping bag, bunny and raced downstairs,
stopping only to slip into her shoes before locking the door behind her. She
raced through the streets of Tokyo, running from everything, from him. She ran
from her fears, her dreams, her responsibilities. She felt a burning sensation
in the back of her throat and swallowed, making it go away.
-Oh, but maybe tonight...-
She collided with a warm, solid object and bounced off, sprawling on the
ground. She closed her eyes for a moment, orienting herself before opening her
eyes. She drew back violently, finding an outstretched hand near her face.
She looked up to find Darien looking down at her, "You alright?"
She nodded, "I'm always alright. Sorry for hitting you like that." She took
his offered hand and climbed to her feet. She quickly crouched and collected
her stuff.
"Going somewhere?" he asked, handing her the sleeping bag.
She couldn't meet his eyes, "I was going to look for you actually. My dad said
tonight you were going to be my math tutor. I don't really need one, but," she
sighed, "95% just isn't good enough for him."
Darien raised an eyebrow, "95%? That good huh? Well, let's see what else we
can study. Physics?"
"I'm acing that course," she told him quietly.
"English?"
"98% average in the honours course."
He whistled, "Spanish?"
She smiled, "I'm not taking it. Yet."
"How about general Science?"
She shook her head, "I'm in the advanced courses already. I'm doing Physics,
Chem and Bio at a second year high school level and all but Bio I'm acing. Bio
I'm horrible at. It's dragged my whole average down to a 95% because I can't
seem to get anything higher than a 90% in that course no matter what I do."
"Alright, we'll see if we can't get some Biology in there. Anything else
you're awful at?"
She shook her head, "Not by my standards. I'm already doing my grade eleven
level English and Japanese courses. My teachers say I should talk to my father
about skipping the first year of High school but when they talked to him he
told them no, so I have to go through it."
Darien offered her his arm and then removed her pack fro her shoulders. "Come
on, you look like you need to talk. Can I buy you a drink?"
She shook her head, tilting her head to look up at him. "Can I trust you?" she
asked him softly.
He stopped and looked down at her, "Yes, Serena, you can trust me with anything
you need to tell me. It won't go any further than me, alright?"
She nodded, looking down at her toes, "Can we go back to your place and talk,
then?" she asked, sounding small to her own ears, "I really, really need to
talk to someone about this but if anyone else finds out it might ruin my life.
If that is alright with you, that is."
Darien nodded, "Alright, this way." He refrained from asking about anything
that she needed to talk about, and they walked the way to his apartment in
silence.
-Cry when I need to, be shy if I want to. Don't have to keep a smile upon
my face...-
Serena hung her coat up on the hanger Darien offered her and arranged her shoes
by the door for easy access by force of habit. She made sure all of her stuff
she'd brought with her was tucked neatly into a corner. That done she allowed
him to lead her into his living room. The cosiness of the room wrapped around
her and she shivered, feeling chilled by what should have been a welcoming
feeling.
"Have a seat, make yourself at home. Would you like something to drink?"
"Coffee, if you have it, please. Hot chocolate would be just as good."
He raised an eyebrow at her coffee comment but went to prepare the drinks in
his kitchenette. "How old are you Serena," he finally asked when he handed her
the cup of coffee. She was perched on the edge of his sofa and he took a seat
next to her. She wrapped her fingers around the cup, relishing its warmth on
her cold fingers.
"I'm 15," she said softly.
Darien nearly choked on his drink, "Pardon me?"
"I'm 15."
"You look older! And you're the most mature 15 year old I've ever
encountered." He told her honestly.
She smiled wanly, closing her eyes, "I have to be." Her voice was barely a
whisper, choked slightly.
Darien looked at her, worry surfacing in his eyes as he set his cup on the
table. "Tell me, what's bother you?" he asked kindly, gently, as he wrapped
his hands around her cold ones on her cup. Her gaze lifted to meet his and the
wounds he saw in her soul were enough to almost make him cry. He didn't
understand the protective feelings he was getting towards her, but he knew he
hated the thought of someone hurting her.
"My father," she said slowly, very quietly. He strained to hear her.
"Your father? What about him?"
-I don't want to be the strong one, I don't want to pick the pieces off
the floor. This time I want to be the one, who needs a little shelter from the
storm. Keep me Warm, I don't want to be the strong one, anymore.-
"He drinks." She told him truthfully. Darien nodded, not daring to comment.
"He drinks to the point where life has no meaning for him, where he gets angry
so easily. He drinks to forget that mom left us," her voice was low, husky
from years upon years of unshed tears that were closing her throat.
Darien gently took the cup from her hands and placed it on the coffee table
before her drew her into his arms, hugging her carefully. She burrowed into
his arms, like a lost child searching for home and looked up at him, her eyes
dry, "He can't seem to stop Darien, and he only gets worse. I had to give him
CPR the other night because his heart stopped, why can't he just stop!"
Darien wrapped his arms around her tightly, holding her close. He'd met her a
short few days ago, 'Had it really only been just under a week?' and already he
knew he wanted this young woman in his life. She as putting up with so much at
home that he wanted to go charging in like a knight in shining armour and
rescue her. Her settled for listening to her. Something told him that she
needed to talk more than someone to fight her battles for her. It was almost
painful for him to watch her live through it in her memories as she talked.
She continued, "It started after mom died. I was six, Sam was... well, Sam was
really young. Dad got into the bottle the night after the funeral and never
got out. At first he just got really angry and called me names. He still does
and that doesn't bother me much. As things went on he started to throw things.
Shot glasses, pictures, balls, lamps, food, anything he could get his hands on,
but I've never seen him throw an empty, or full, bottle of alcohol. He's gone
through more shot glasses than a bar has. Over the years it's gotten worse.
He stopped doing the house chores, stopped paying the bills," she almost choked
but continued, her eyes remaining curiously dry throughout the telling,
"Stopped shopping for food and only bought alcohol. Sam and I were eating
stuff from the neighbour's garden just to get by sometimes."
"Finally, about four years ago, I went out and got a job. Dad wasn't going to
take care of us, so Sam and I did the chores, cooked the meals; we look out for
each other. I pay most of the bills right now on my small paycheque. Sam is
concentrating on school and spends most of his time out of the house. Things
just build though and I've had to be strong, for dad, for Sam, and for me.
Just once," she turned tortured eyes to his, "I don't want to be the strong
one. I want to throw things, I want to curse, I want to get angry, to fight
back." She shivered and he held her closer. "I can't do that though. I have to
stay until I can support Sam and myself. Once I get my diploma I can get a
real job and move out on my own with Sam and get away from him."
Darien watched as she stared off in the distance; out his balcony doors. "It's
not your fault you know," he told her softly.
"What's not my fault?"
"Your dad's drinking. I can see it in your eyes, you blame yourself partly for
him taking to the bottle. It's not your fault, Sere. You dad has a problem,
maybe one that can't be helped now, but it's not your fault."
She closed her eyes, "I wish I could believe that, Dare, I really do. If I had
only helped out more around the house, if I had learned to help mom when she
was sick, if I could only have saved her life before it was too late." She
pounded one frustrated fist against his chest, "Life is full of 'ifs' isn't
it?" she asked softly, opening her eyes to look at him again.
He nodded, "Don't blame yourself Sere. You did what you thought was best in
the situation. I admire you for that. I know we've only just met and all, but
if you ever need someone to talk to, someone to confide in or some place to go
if things get too out of hand, I hope you'll come here. My door is always open
to you, as are my mind, my arms and my heart."
Serena felt something akin to moisture gather in her eyes and reached up one
hand to feel, "What... is this what I think it is?" she asked him softly,
raising eyes that were full or tears to his. She caught the moisture on one
finger tip and raised it to his gaze.
He nodded, leaning down to gently kiss the single tear she'd captured on her
fingertip. He smiled softly at her and pulled her close, "Let it go, Serena,
just let go. For one night, just sit back and lean on someone other than
yourself. Cry, Sere, you need the release."
"I don't think I can." She told him sadly, "I think I've forgotten how."
-I don't want to be the strong one, I don't want to pick the pieces off
the floor. This time I want to be the one, who needs a little shelter from the
storm. Keep me Warm, I don't want to be the strong one, anymore.-
Darien leaned back on the couch and cradled her in his lap, gently running his
hand over the back of her hair, "This about having someone there, Sere. Think
about not being alone anymore..." he whispered suggestions to her until he
looked down to find her, eye closed, swallowing hard. "Don't fight it. Let it
out, you need to let it go or it will eat you alive, Sere. Please, I don't
want to see that happen to you."
She looked at him, her eyes sparkling with moisture, "And all of my defences
are crumbling tonight too? I need them to face him, Dare. I need my pain to
face him, if I can't draw on it then I have nothing to protect myself from
him."
"You have me." His words were whisper soft.
"Oh... Darien..." she choked, throwing her arms around his neck and burying her
face in the side of his neck. The damn broke and he felt her tears on his
skin. He held her close, cherishing her, protecting her, whispering words to
her that he wouldn't remember later but meaning every word. He comforted her
when she needed it most. Serena cried her heart and soul out cradled in his
arms. She ruined his shirt and when her tears had dwindled to nothing, she
felt the rift in her soul begin to close a little, her heart begin to mend and
closed her eyes, falling into a contented sleep in his arms.
Darien held her close for a moment, gently caressing her hair before steeling
himself comfortably and closing his eyes, his mind going back over everything
she'd just told him. He had a lot to think about.
End?
Author's notes: Alright, that's it for this one, I think, at least for now...
let me know what you guys think, I love to hear from you!
Jade_Max@innocent.com.
Thanks for reading!