Right, before I start, I'm gonna say a few things. Firstly, I don't own the characters and stuff. But you all knew that.

Secondly…yes, I know this is a very cliché story idea, but I'm gonna try and put my own twist on it. I appreciate reviews, and if you don't like it, please tell me why. I understand that my grammar and stuff isn't perfect, but don't say 'OMG your grammar is really bad' when it isn't, and you use a colloquialism as the evidence. So please, make sure it is my grammar that's bad, and I'll change it.

Also, don't insult the plot line before 2 chapters. You don't know what's happening yet. Usually. I'm only saying this because of a few reviews on my last 'cliché' story line. I also won't be updating as much as usual, so please be patient.

I hope you all enjoy it,

Thank you

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Jou sat facing the wall. It was his 3rd week of detention and he really couldn't wait for it to be over. He'd gotten it for fighting, again. It was funny, however, that the dick he'd been fighting with, had managed to escape. Something to do with his company or what not. Either way, Jou really didn't care. It was always him that took the punishment, and as he was a lower person in society, no one seemed to give a fuck what his opinion was. And that was that. His brown eyes glanced to the clock. Five to four. The teacher had gone out for a cup of coffee, so if they weren't back in two minuets, the blond would leave.

Unfortunately Mr Chan walked in moments, later, sitting at his desk with a fresh cup of coffee. He hated Mr Chan. He was fat, sweaty, and seemed to begrudge Jou and everything he did. He had no sense of humour and no humanity, especially with the gruelling homework tasks that he assigned.

The clock soon ticked over to 4pm, and Jou was straight out of the door before the Mr Chan even had time to respond.

'Thank god for that.' Jou thought to himself as he ran home, starting off with a slight hop. He was late, which meant his father would beat him. As soon as that was done with, he had to set back off to go to work. He needed to be there for 6, so if he took the beating without question, or if his dad wasn't in, it should work out fine.

He ran up the stairs to the apartment, pausing before his door slightly. He took several deep breaths. Coming home was defiantly the worst part of the day. The worst part of all, however, was that no one knew his secret. No one knew about the abuse he suffered from his father.

The door swung open to a smoky room. Alcohol and nicotine poisoned the air, the air thick and grey. Wafting his hand around, Jou walked in slowly, squinting to see the light. He could just about make out the stack of bottles lined up on the window ledge, and an even larger pile on the floor. Looking around, a fuzzy figure came into view. The stocky build was recognisable instantly, and Jou knew it was his father.

'Yer late.' The words were meshed as they came out, only a faint line visible between the start and end, 'Where has you been?' Jou paused for a moment, working out the question through the slurred words.

'School. Sorry I'm late.' He closed the door firmly, before backing into a wall. If he was against the wall, he couldn't be thrown as far.

'That's no ex-excuse. You sherd be home at…at 3.' The words became more broken as his father tried to piece together the sentence,

'I'm sorry.'

'You no good…you no good son of a…you're a bastard.'

'I know.'

'It's…this! This is all yer fault.'

'I know.' Jou braced himself as his father loomed closer, his body swaying violently from side to side as he tried to walk. Jou felt his palms touch the wall, his fingers sliding down them slightly as he backed up. The elder Jounouchi picked up a glass from a counter as he fell past, before dragging back his arm and hurling it towards the blond. Jou ducked, but shards still slashed at his face, a few specs of blood dripping down his cheek. He sighed, yes, coming home was defiantly the worst part of the day.

His father got closer, finally placing chubby hands around Jou's collar.

'I'll te…teach yous a lesson…' Jou was instantly lifted from the floor, before a sharp blow came to his stomach. He coughed slightly when a second punch came. He felt himself curve forward, only for his face to fall into the next fist. He felt his jaw crack, but he knew it wasn't broken. Several more punches attacked his face. A well aimed one struck his eye, the pain forcing it shut. Before Jou could touch it, he was dropped to the floor, and his father's foot connected with his ribs, a searing pain rippling through his body. He pulled himself into the foetal position, determined not to shout. Several more kicks attacked his back, his thighs and his ankles, and eventually, Jou could feel his eyes burn with salted tears. Weak, salted tears. He knew he shouldn't cry. Everything that was happening was his own fault. He shouldn't have been late. He shouldn't have caused problems as a child and forced his mother to leave with his sister. It was his fault that his father depended on alcohol and that no one loved him. Yes. It was all his fault and he deserved every bruise, every broken bone and shattered joint. He deserved to bleed for every tear and suffer for everything his family had been through, because, it was all his fault. Jou felt his body turn cold and numb, and all he could see was the blurred flurry of kicks, the punishment was coming to an end. As his father turned and left, he relaxed slightly, letting the pain wash over him. He could feel his head throb with rushing blood, the pain from every kick raw upon his flesh, digging into every muscle. He stayed on the floor until he watched his father's feet walk by him, before leaving the apartment, slamming the door. Jou coughed a few times, taking deep breaths as best he could, the pain ripping through his lungs, tearing at his heart.

Fumbling for the wall, he pulled himself up, dragging himself to his room. He sat on the bed, wincing as his body connected with the mattress. He leant over to pick up an old towel, clutching his ribs as he did so. Fuck, this one hurt. Maybe it was easier to fight back? No. No he deserved everything. Jou used the towel to dry off the blood, before frowning into the once white cloth. The beating had been worse than he had planned, and man, could he feel it. He glanced to the digital clock on his bedside table. 4.55. Fair enough. The beating hadn't taken too long, only 40 minuets, so he had plenty of time until work. Placing the towel down he reached over to a packet of cigarettes next to the clock. Pulling one out he placed it to his lips, then lit it. He let his head fall backwards onto the wall, and the relaxing nicotine run through his aching veins. If his friends knew he smoked, they would likely lecture him, but he didn't care. After spending years of his life being abused, he needed one sure thing, and that was a cigarette. He didn't care what any one else thought, it made him happy, and it had done for years. Besides, even if smoking kills, a beating would probably do it much faster. He watched the smoke drift up, a relaxing smile falling onto his face. He stubbed it out on the bedside table, before pulling himself up to get dressed. He slid on a pair of slacks and a blue shirt, before scraping his hair back. He tied it back loosely before setting off out of the door. He walked a few blocks down the road in the twilight before he reached a run down and battered building.

The flashing sign showed he was there, the blinking bulb on it's last life. Jou walked in to see a plump woman sat at a computer. As he walked in she threw a pair of keys at him.

'Guy wants picking up from Baker Street. Name…Takahashi.' Jou nodded, playing with his fringe. He headed out to a Vauxhall Vectra. It was silver and a little battered, but it was his and he didn't care. Well, it was his at work. He pulled himself into the front seat and adjusted the mirrors so that he could see all around him. He set up the hands free kit and checked the car for any rubbish. Seeing nothing, he knew he was good to go.

Being a taxi driver was a good job. He'd not had his licence too long, but they took him on anyway. The company was run down and needed drivers and were willing to take anyone. Jou was good at the job, he didn't need to move, so no matter how bad his beating was, no one could ever tell. As he set off, he clicked the radio on, a strange sense of ease washing over him. No matter how bad his day had been, driving always seemed to relax him especially at night.

Takahashi was a tall, thin man. He slid in the passenger seat next to Jou.

'Where to?'

'I have a meeting at Kaiba corp.' Jou nodded before setting off. He glanced sideways at the man besides him. His well cut suit and leather briefcase. Yes. He looked like a business man, even more so, like the kind of business man that Kaiba would associate with. They arrived at the building and Jou drew the car to a halt. The man looked over at the metre, handing Jou $30. Jou nodded in thanks as the man got out and headed towards the main doors.

'Yeah.' He thought. 'The same kind of rich prick Kaiba would associate himself with. Dick' with that final thought Jou pushed the gear stick into first and set off back, the phone ringing with news of other customers. The night fell into a boring blur, with every drunken conversation becoming the same, and every route becoming automatic.

Finally, at 3.40am, his shift was over. He walked almost dizzily into the taxi shop, handing his keys over to the woman at the desk. She nodded to him, handing over an envelope with his wage in. As usual, Jou took out $20 and the slip, knowing the rest would go to his dad to pay bills and what not. He pulled his shirt tight to his body as he set off home, the air crisp in his lungs.

The apartment was dark when he arrived, his father wasn't home. Jou sighed with relief before wandering into his bedroom, collapsing onto his bed, face down.

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ok that was my first chapter. I hope you liked it.

I just wanna say RIP Tomizowa who died today in Moto2 in a horrible accident. And I hope that Reading and DeAnglis recover well too.

Please

R&R

Much love

AB x