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Call now!

Summary:
A short one-shot about what happened to Gianna right before she joined the Volturi.


Notes:


1. Call now!

Rating 0/5   Word Count 1185   Review this Chapter

"Gianna, I just can't. Let me go, for God's sake. I don't want you anymore."

The man was leaning toward the door, trying hard to leave. Clinging to his right arm, was a crying woman. She had her right foot hooked around the leg of a table near the door, and would not let go.

"Don't...leave..me..." she said breathlessly, hardly able to take in oxygen due to her passionate sobbing. "I need you!"

"Damn it, Gianna. I can't stand living like this anymore. I am the only one paying the bills in this relationship. I am the only one who ever makes an effort to keep us from loosing this apartment. I am the only one who ever attempts to keep the peace between you and the rest of your family. And, you know what? All you ever do is bitch and whine about what a terrible fucking person I am. You tell me that I don't treat you right. You accuse me of cheating. Gianna, either there's something wrong with you, or your just really fucking immature. Frankly, I can't stand it anymore."

"No...I'm so sorry. Please, stay..." she choked out, in between gasps. "I'll change, I swear. Just, please, stay with me. I need you."

"Yeah, you do need me." the woman loosened her grip a little, at this. "You need me because you can't make a life for yourself. You're fired from every job because you can't get along with anyone! You can't sustain a regular paycheck because you never make any effort! You talk about how much you suck at everything, but that's because you never give anything a goddamned shot; you don't try." The man made another effort to open the door, and the woman locked onto his arm. "Gi-gi, it's over. I'm sick of this. I'm so sick of living with someone who acts like a fucking parasite all the time. You just live off of other people's efforts and complain. And it's digusting, Gi-gi, it really is. I can't take it anymore."

With that, he pried her fingers off of his arm, opened the door, and left, leaving the woman sobbing on the ground.

"No, stay..." the woman whispered to the empty air in front of her, "don't leave me..."

But he was gone. And she knew that he wasn't coming back.

But that wasn't even the worse part. The worse part was, he was right. In every way, shape, and form, he had hit the nail right on the head; and it hurt.

Yeah, she was a little selfish, but everyone had a right to be selfish now and then, right?

Now and then.

She was constantly bickering with him about what he didn't do right and how he wasn't being a fullfilling boyfriend. At one point, she had seen him talking with an old friend from college and accused him of cheating on her, even though she knew it wasn't true.

Gianna didn't know why she did these things, exactly, she just did. It was like an impulse, an inescapable urge to pull all the attention onto herself. She was an attention whore, and she was addicted to it.

And now, someone had finally called off her crap. She had been abandoned for the first time in her life. Because of this, she had no source of income, housing, or emotional shelter now. For the first time in her life, she had nothing to live off.

Not even that, she just had nothing. Absolutely nothing

---

She packed her things that night, took a long shower, had a nice big meal, and went to bed early. She knew that she would be evicted soon, seeing as they were four months behind on the rent, so she took as much advantage as she could of the few resources that were available.

She went to sleep thinking about what she would do with herself the next day. She would have to search for a job, obviously. She could find a cheap renthouse outside of the city, maybe near Volterra. It was a clean, safe place. And very busy, constantly moving, making an ideal location for someone who neede to jump-start their life on a clean slate.

Then, she remembered something.

His credit card.

He had an emergency credit card (under his name) that they kept hidden under the mattress.

She grabbed her cell phone off the floor and flipped it open.

2:30 a.m., it read.

Rolling out of bed, she prayed that he had, in his passionate haste, forgotten to retreive that little rubber card. That insignificant piece of plastic was now her only chance.

She reached her hand in between the matress and the spring board, and felt around.

A thin edge.

She grasped whatever it was that she felt, and pulled it out.

Immediately she knew that it wasn't the credit card. At a glance, it was white with little black writing on it. But it felt like a credit card of some sort, even though it wasn't, so what on earth was it?

She flipped it over and read the writing.

Feeling down on your luck? Is fate not being kind to you? Well, join the club! The world is a sucky place and we know it. Fortunately, we have a solution. We have a business that takes in hopeless individuals who lives have turned to shit, and makes them usefull! We have recruits from around the world, so there is no need to feel awkward about your problems; we probably have someone here who's been through much worse. So, for once, you'll be looking down on OTHERS, not the other way around. We'll make your life something a little less worthless, and you'll be serving a great purpose! Like what you see? Have nothing better to do? Call: 1-800-Volturi-rox and we'll help you out! Why waste time? Call now!

The first thing that entered her mind was, How the hell did this get here? Was her ex really an in-the-closet depressant? Was he some sad little man who felt bad about his life, so he colected stupid shit like this?

But, in the back of her mind, the irony of this moment was just too much. Her life had turned to shit. She really had nowhere to go. She really didn't know what to do next.

Maybe it was a prostitution service. If that be the case, did that mean that her ex was a prostitute? Unlikely.

Then again, prostitution was an option. It was a source of money, and a slightly enjoyable one, at that...

STOP! Oh, my God, Gi, what's wrong with you?! You're not THAT desperate. He only left, like, less then twenty-four hours ago. You haven't even TRIED Volterra yet.

No matter. She would call.

A) To see if they knew her ex.

B) She was really curious as to how this got here, and maybe they would know.

C) It was one of the few options she had left.

She had hit the wall, hard. Maybe too hard, this time.

She picked up her phone again, and dialed the number.