Ok! Long story short: My damn power went off in my neighborhod and all I have to do is type up stories. But I have no problem doing that anyway! Any way I hope you like this Oneshot/Songfic!

Disclaimer: I do not own DragonBall/Z/GT


By: Good Charlotte


It's a new day, but it all feels old

It's a good life, that's what I'm told

But it all just feels the same

"You look just like your father..."

"Hey, Mini Goku...!"

"You remind my of your dad at that age..."

There they go again. As always, the comments of my common charecteristics to a certain bone headed Saiyan rang in my ears.

But I'm not Goku, I'm Goten. I'm fourteen years old, not forty-something like Goku. But as I look in the mirror of my room, I see Goku too. But I'm Goten. Nobody is born the same right? Then we must have something different between us...

My eyes! No wait, I got his eyes. My face? No, we share that quality too. Well that's not fair, I can't change my eyes or my face, and especially not my hair. Well I could, but mom would throw a fit. I can't do anythoing. Not unless surgery was the answer, but I'm afraid of needles and hospitals. Damn, he is too. Ever since I can remember, almost everybody has compared me to my dad one way or another. Whether it be how I talk, fight, look or how I act around other people. Some comparison had to be made.

"Your just a baka, just like that damn Kakarot!" Even Vegeta throws in his two cents about me. I can't help it if I look like the guy, I mean he IS my father, it's only natural that I carry his genes in my blood. But, so does Gohan and baby Pan. So why am I cursed to uphold the image of the man who is probably the greatest fighter in the galaxy! Sure I can hold my own in battle, but I could never measure up to HIM. Or Gohan, Trunks Vegeta...I must be the weakest of the Saiyans. And I'll NEVER be as smart as Gohan. Mr. Scholar! I mean, he had perfect test scores.

At my Highschool, it felt more to me

Like a jail cell, a penitentiary!

But time spent there it only made me see...

"YOU NEED A GOOD EDUCATION AND FIND YOURSELF A NICE GIRL TO SETTLE DOWN WITH AND START A FAMILY!" Damn mom, I'm only fourteen. As of right now all I know how to do is martial arts, and I'm sadly, kinda losing interests. I want something more!

Now that I think about it, I don't have my own signature attack like my brother or dad does. Gohan has his Masenko attack and dad has perfected Master Roshi's Kamahameha Wave. I do those too, but they aren't mine like they are thiers. Was I just a temporary replacement when I was born? Was it my duty to take dad's place when he died? It can't be, because I remember when I was very little, mom would take one look at me and start crying. Because we share the same face.


My bedroom door swung open to reveal my father, Goku, "Whatta ya' doin' son?"

That I don't never wanna be like you!

I don't wanna do the things you do!

I'm never gonna hear the words you say!

"Nothin' dad," I respond.

"Ok, well come on, we're goin' over to Satan City to have lunch with the Bulma and the gang 'member?" That's right, I did forget. I shrugged my shoulders and walked past my father, but not after he ruffled my hair, so much like his. It's sticks out in wierd directions, I never have to comb it, I mean I've had this hair cut since I was born. We headed outside, I see mom, Gohan and Videl with baby Pan in her arms.

"Hey Squirt!" Gohan patted my back, "How ya' doin'?"

"Can't complain..." I lied about that obviously. Videl smiled and baby Pan squirmed in her mother's arms, she flung her chubby arms out at me gurgling to be held. Videl obliged and gave Pan to me who was about one year old, I cradeled her in my arms, her gurgling stopped and she gentley grasps a fist full of my hair, "Grampa hair!" She cooed.

Everyone around me 'awwed' and said 'how cute.' I just rolled my eyes and growled in my throat, now even Pan was starting to notice my strong resemblance I had with my father. I stare at my tiny niece, "I'm not Grampa, Panny..."

And I don't ever wanna, I don't ever wanna be you!

Don't wanna be just like you!

With Pan still in my arms we all connected hands, with mom's hand in dad's and Instant Transmitted to Satan City.


We met up with Bulma and all the 'Z gang' about a block away from the restaurant where we had reservations, Bulma made sure to call ahead of time so the cooks wouldn't have to panic about keeping up with my father. I walked along side with Trunks and he began drolling on and on about some cute girl who was flirting with him at school two days ago. We walked past a store with glimmering glass and I stopped dead in my tracts, Trunks not really noticing.

There it was again, my reflection in the department store window, mini Goku, some call me. I brought a hand up to comb through my hair flatening the spikes, pushing away the bangs, I sighed. That same hand went lower to skim across my fourteen year old face, over my cheeks and chin. Did I really look THAT much like him?

Oh, what I'm sayin' is, this is The Anthem

Throw all your hands up

You! Don't wanna be you!

"GOTEN! COME ON!" My brother yelled at me from across the street, I gasp as I push and shove through the flood of people who don't seem to notice I'm in a hurry. I turn my head to the left at a particuliar store that caught my attention. A music store, called Rythem of Life and in the display window was an acoustic guitar, with light and dark brown wooding.

"Cool..." I like fighting, but something different wouldn't hurt right. I wondered how it would feel being able to create music at your finger tips. But I bet Trunks and Vegeta would laugh at me wanting to be a musician, since, after all, we all come from some type of fighting lineages. Gohan yelled at me again. I shook my head and ran inside the restaurant, with Gohan thumping me on the head and lecturing about it is rude to keep people waiting, "You're just like dad, always day dreaming and NOT paying attention..." He walked ahead of me.

"I'm not Goku, I'm Goten..."


We were served our food. Sticky rice, teriyaki chicken dipped in a special souce, bread, sweet and sour noodles, rice balls and many types of beverages. All the fighters dove into the food, but I held back with Bulma and my mother.

"Goten?" My mother asks, "What's the matter sweetie? You're usually the first to dive into the food, well along with your father..." She rubbed my back, I smiled, gosh I love my mom. Many people say she can be a real harpy, (cough cough) Vegeta. But she just wants what's best for us, "I'm ok mom, I'm just teaching myself to how not to be a pig and embarrasse myself in a public place, you always said to use manners, right?"

That made her happy, "My little Goten, such a gentleman!" Although that was a complete lie, I just didn't want to seem like I inherited my father's disturbing way of eating. Which I did, but I can change that, so I refrand myself from looking like a vacuum and sucking up all the food. "Oh, and Bulma, my little Goten is going to attend Satan University just like Gohan. So he can get a good job and makes lot of money to support his family!" I blushed.

Go to college!

A University, get a real job!

That's what they said to me

But I can never live the way they want!

"Goku," my mother called my father, he looked up with noodles stuffed in his mouth,"Yea Schi?" He slurred with a full mouth. "You can learn something from your son here..."

Trunks, who sat next to me with a noodle dangling from his mouth smirked, he slurped it up, "Momma's boy..."

"Shut up Trunks!" I yelled under my breath, I then feel my mom wrap her arms around me, "That's right Trunks," she began, "But you're just as much a Momma's boy too, right Bulma?"

"That's right," Bulma added. Trunks blushed and turned away and resumed eating his meal. I looked up at my mom and silently thanked her. She always protected me like that.

As I watched my friends and family gorge on thier food, I was tempted to do the same, but I didn't want to be labeled Goku's clone again.

I'm gonna get by and just do mu time

Out of step while they all get in line

I'm just a minor threat so pay no mind...


We returned home and I went up to my room. I flopped down on my bed a found a magazine on the floor. I flipped through the pages not really interested in it at all when...

"SON GOTEN! LOOK AT THIS PIGSTY YOU CALL A ROOM!" My mother scanned over the dirty clothes flung onto the floor with no intention on being picked up. Old dishes under my bed along with discarded books and comics. My bed was unmade and the smell from old unwashed socks stunk like hell.

"CLEAN YOUR ROOM RIGHT NOW, MISTER!" She grunted, "YOU'RE JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER, EXPECTING ME TO PICK UP ALL YOUR MESSES! I DOUBT OTHER CHILDREN'S ROOMS ARE THIS MESSY! CLEAN IT NOW!" She left the room and slammed the door shut. Leaving me to clean the mess, yeah right, I layed back on the bed and scanned the magazing once again.

"I'm not Goku..."

Do you wanna be like them?

Do youn really wanna be another trend?

Do you wanna part of the crowd?

'Cause I don't ever wanna, I don't ever wanna be you!

Why can't they understand that I'm a total different person? I'll never be Goku no matter how much they fuckin' want me to be!


I got bored of reading and decided to go to CC to see if Trunks wanted t spar or hangout. I flew out the window and expected to be there in twenty minutes.

When I reached CC, Trunks shoved me into the GR and cranked up the gravity.

"What's the matter Goten, not strong enough! Trunks mocked, "Who'da thought that the son of Goku would be so weak!"

"Can it Trunks!" I growled as I sent a punch flying at his ribcage, but he was too fast and ringed his fist around my wrist and held it behind my back. It felt as if my arm was gonna snap in two, "Come on Goten, you can do better than that! Sure you look like your dad, but in battle you can never hold a candle to him!"

I raised my knee up and swung it back to ram my foot into Trunks' gut, "Ahhgg...! Damn it Goten, can't you take a little bit of teasing!"

Don't wanna be just like you!

Oh what I'm sayin' is, this is The Anthem

Throw all your hand up!

You! Don't wanna be you!

"You can be such a jerk Trunks!" I flared my ki, "If ya' haven't noticed I AM NOT GOKU!"

Trunks stood face to face with me with a serious expression on his face, "What do ya' mean?"

"All my life I've been compared to my father and to Gohan!" Trunks raised a brow and I continued, "Oh Goten you look just like your father! Oh Goten, your dad AND brother were much more powerful at your age! Oh Goten this...Oh Goten that...that's all I ever hear, and not only that, my mom expects me to marry out of High School like Gohan and give her grandkids! I hate it! I HATE IT! What the hell do I have to do to show every one THAT I'M NOT GOKU DAMMIT!"

I could feel sweat on my brow and I panted heavily, I felt a little bit better to get those things off my chest until... I heard his voice.


I whipped my head around to face my hurt father. Did he hear me? Oh gods...


"'Do you really feel that way?" What do I say to him? Why is he here anyway?

"Dad, I ..I didn't..I mean...yes," I lowered my head to face the floor, too ashamed to face my father, my knees buckeled and I sank to the floor. My tears made dark spots on the marble tile, it mixed along with sweat, I kept my head down, "I'm ashamed to feel this way, but Daddy, I can't help it!"

"Son..." He hasn't called me 'daddy' since he was ten years old... Goku thought. Goku knows why too, Goten has been holding in tough feeling since he was a child, and that's just how he feels right now, like a child. Goku motioned to Trunks to leave. He obeyed. Goku took Goten into his lap as he sat on the floor. The father could feel the tremors coursing through his body, "It's ok Goten, let it all out..."

Shake it once, that's fine...

Shake it twice, that's ok...

Shake it three times, you're playin' with yourself again!

He soothed my and shooshed me as he rocked my body gently on the floor, "Wanna talk about it Goten-chan?"

I rubbed my eyes with my gi sleeve, "uh-huh."

I spilled my guts out to my father. How I hated being stuck in his image and the expectations wanted from me. "I'm...just not you dad..." I could feel the tears from before beginning to swell up again, he cradeled me like a baby and wiped away the wetness from my cheeks.

"Son, I don't expect anything massive from you, just your happiness, maybe you need to find something just for YOU, and no one else. Maybe, a hobby..doesn't have to be fighting, ok?" I nodded, a hobby huh?


Two Days Later...

I went back to that music store, a tiny bell dinged as I entered. A young women stood at the counter, she seemed about twenty-something. She had long brown hair with light red streaks, her eyes glimmered green, she had pink lipstick and a purple bandana around her forehead. Her clothes consisted of a Harley Motorcycles jeans vest with many patches of rock bands I assume, she had baggy black pants with chains and large pockets, and her boots looked like biker boots with flames around her ankles.

She looked up at the ding of the bell and smiled sweetly, "Oh, hello, can I help you with anything?"

"Uh, yeah, ya' see," I rubbed the back of my head, "I kinda saw a guitar in the window the other day and... "

"And you wanna learn how ta' play..." She took the words right outta my mouth.

"Eh, yeah."

She smiled again and leaded me to the front of the store, she picked up the guitar I had my eye on and polished it with a cloth she had in her pocket, "This, little dude, is called Spirit, it's very old, almost fifty years, not many companies make acoustics like this. It used to belong to a famous rock and roller nick named Eruption (AN: Van Halen guitar solo).

"It was bought at an auction years ago and brought here and sold. The man who sold it was a complete idiot because it is worth much more than what he was paid for it."

"Well, then, I can't pay for something like that," I told her.

" Ya' know, I like your face kid, how 'bout I let you pay for it by workin' here," She offered.


"Sure, you can help sweep up and help with customers, ya' seem a little young, but under my wing, you'll become a pro at guitars, plus I'll throw in some free lessons!"

"Why are you letting me do all this? Other people would probably kick me out with out me havin' any money," I explained.

"Well, 'cuz, just by lookin' at ya' I can tell that you wanna be ...different, create your own image."

"Wow, how did ya' know?"

"Ya' see, when I was your age, I felt the same way, my older sisters were perfect and my mother was a beautiful model, I sucked at everything, but then I saw THIS guitar and fell in love with it..."

You! Don't wanna be just like you!

Oh what I'm sayin' is...

"Wait! THIS guitar, why ya' selling it?" I questioned her.

"Look kid, I believe that when one person has fullfilled his or her desires, ya' pass on what help you do just that, like this guitar, so ya' see, when I look at you, Iknow you need this guitar to help fullfill your dreams, sorta like a tradition I started."


"By the way, my name's Jamee..."


She handed Spirit to me and showed me how to position my fingers, for the next few hours she helped me practice basic cords and learn all about the parts of a guitar. For weeks I practiced, I learned a simple song about two months after I got the guitar, I worked in Jamee's store and was about half way for paying for Spirit. What I like best is when I play through a whole song perfectly, or when Jamee thinks I improved, she always gives me a little kiss on the cheek. I guess I developed a childish crush on her.

This is The Anthem!

Throw all your hands up!

Ya'll got to feel me!

Sing if you're with me!


I also made new friends, kids about my age learning on how to perfect thier musical instruments too. My new friend Chelsea plays the drums, she's about a year younger then me, and I found out she goes to school at Orange Star Junior High as an 8th grader. She may seem like a real sweet girl at first with her curly purple hair, but she can kick ass. She reminds me of Videl actually, very demanding and thinks girls are just as tough as guys.

On electric guitar is Tommy, he's older by two years and already knows all the basics hands down. He's pretty cool, like a second older brother to look up to. He is a junior at Orange Star High and I, a freshman. Then on keyboard is, Luke. He's in my math class at OSH, he's one of those brainy kids who can probably name all the planet's densities and exact position. But he's a real good tutor, something I SO need right now. Last but not least, Neera on base guitar, she can be a total airhead at times, but you can alway count on her to help you out or cheer you up with her sunny attitude. Personally I think her and Tommy like each other, but won't admit it. Don't tell them I told you that!

Don't wanna be just like you!

(Be just like you...)

This is The Anthem, throw all yor hands up

Ya'll got to feel me

Sing if you're with me!

Jamee says that we're getting so good that maybe we should start our own band, yeah right like that can happen. But a guy can dream can't he!

Another loser Anthem!


Another loser Anthem!


Nobody, as in my family, knows that I was learning about guitars, it was my own special sanctuary.Whenever thing got rough at school or at home, I went over to Jamee's store and picked up Spirit. Letting the throng of the cords sooth my dull ache, who knows how good I'll get. I took my father's words to heart, and never let them fade as I played Spirit. And who knows what else I can accomplish. Write my own songs maybe? But as of right now, music became my true love.

Another loser Anthem!


Another loser Anthem!



Yea kinda corny, but I had to do something different! MAYBE I'LL WRITE A SEQUEL TO THIS! LET ME KNOW! Please review::Gives Son Grin: