Hello everyone! I'm trying something a little bit different this time. Instead of a song story, I'm actually gonna use my imagination and try to make my own story. So let's see how this goes. (Any reviews would be loved by the way. ^^)

Just as a heads up, Len has a potty mouth, so...yeah

And since this just the prologue, this chapter will be a bit shorter and formatted differently than the rest...

Disclaimer: I don't own Vocaloid in any way, shape of form.

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Perfection. Does it truly exist? I know it doesn't…but sometimes…I wonder. Everyday, I see humans race towards and reach for it, as if it is something that can be attained. They dream for the impossible. And sometimes, I think I envy that.

But that doesn't matter. I am not here for that. Unfortunately for them, I have a job to do.

Some people might say that perfection "doesn't exist". Well, obviously, they haven't met me, because I am Exhibit 'A' on what perfection is. Good looks, intelligence, star athlete of the school, best buds, a hot girl, a hot car and loaded parents. It doesn't get any better than that, lemme tell ya. It doesn't get better than that.

A soul is a human's essence. It is everything they are. Their memories, hopes, dreams and fears – they all captured into one form. That is a soul. Over the years, I've realized that some souls are more beautiful than others. In human terms, I'd say that the soul's beauty is directly related to whether the human was "good" or "bad". It doesn't matter in the end though. They all netherless go to the same place after all…

God, I hate the rain! It's the peskiest thing ever! It fucking ruins my hair-do and that feeling of wet and soggy is just nasty. I'm almost tempted ta just say home and skip out on Yuma's party – I don't even like him that much anyways – but Gakupo had a fucking bitch fit over the phone threatening to 'pick him up on time' this time. He's over exaggerating if ya ask me. Sure, I was an hour or so late, but at least I bothered to pick him up at all! But you know what? I'm gonna be a good friend and fucking "pick him up on time" if that's what he wants. Honestly. People these days.

I don't like working under the rain. The wet feeling is just so uncomfortable and it just gets so much harder to move. Sometimes, I wish they'd consider giving some magic to those in my profession but we're just not important enough, it seems. No matter. I'm sure I'll dry up eventually.

I hate this. I. Hate. This. Ihatethis. Ihatethis. IHATETHIS! The roads are friggin' wet and slippery. What is this! WHAT IS THIS! I can actually feel the tires of my car slipping. Fucking ridiculous. That's what this is. Just fucking ridicu –

Ah. Another death. Hmph. It's a car pileup too. Honestly, you would think that humans would be more careful in those little metal death traps called cars. Oh well. Time to go to work.