This is a very, very short scene that popped into my head while listening to Viva La Vida by Coldplay, ergo the title. I know it makes little sense, but I just wanted to catch the emotions that would occur in a character once they've fallen from grace.

Brick here had left Townsville about two years ago with promises of fame and fortune, but he ended up losing everything. He came back to Townsville to reminisce about his past. I might expand upon the idea when I'm more coherent.

Viva La Vida

The wind rustled the multihued leaves scattered across the ground. A teenage boy, hands stuffed deep in his pocket, walked down the eerily quiet street. There were no honking horns, nor any heels clacking against the pavement. Everybody was sleeping. They had no idea that a fallen prince was walking past their houses.

Brick kicked a pile of leaves. He watched them swirl away in the wind and resisted the urge to scowl. Only a few months ago, he wouldn't have been out here. He would have been lounging in the lap of luxury. He would have been playing video games with his brothers on his flat screen. He would have been drinking coffee imported specially for him from Columbia. But that was when he ruled the world. How the mighty have fallen, Brick thought bitterly, but that's the story of my life. He had brought about his own downfall, and he knew it. It made the memory all the more harsh.

Silvery pale flakes began floating onto the earth. He grimaced. Snow was the last thing he needed. Brick continued to walk, unsure of his destination. He just needed to stretch his legs, get away from the self-pity he kept finding himself in.

He'd been controlled and manipulated. Brick Jojo was not one to put up with that. He was the one who was suppose to manipulate others. It was a rather shocking slap to the face when he found out he and his brothers had been yet another person's puppets.

"Brick?" a familiar, feminine voice called. Brick pretended not to hear her, but she was near impossible to shake off. A warm hand rested on his shoulder.

He turned reluctantly. Blossom stood before him, dressed in pink pajamas with tiaras on them. She'd grown so much from the last time he saw her. Brick particularly noticed her gentle curves. She stared up at him with intelligent rosy eyes. "What?" he demanded, his voice raspy.

"What are you doing out in the cold?" Blossom demanded. She raised a brow, waiting for him to answer. Brick wanted to snort. They hadn't seen each other in God knows how long, and that's the first question she asked.

"Is it any of your business?" Brick questioned. He turned, but Blossom wasn't about to be ignored.

She walked in front of him. "Will you move?"

"No," the girl replied stubbornly. "You're going to talk to me, Brick." Brick noticed that she hadn't lost her commanding air since the last time he saw him. "You can't just leave for two years and expect me to back down." To his surprise, Blossom shoved Brick roughly, and he almost fell onto his butt. "Talk."

Brick watched her eyes dance with barely suppressed anger and grinned his first real grin in ages. She was still the same Blossom he knew and loved. Some things hadn't changed. Maybe there was still hope for him.