[[Well... I promised my next one-shot wouldn't be depressing.

Disclaimer: I don't own Professor Layton. He's totally Rosetta's b*tch... Or at least she wishes. ;) And you get to hear to her complain about it. Rated T for naughty language from Rosetta.]]

The Woes of Being Rosetta Stone

Gee, its way too crowded in here. Those freshmen need to shove off... Oh, were you, like, saving this seat for someone? Tough, 'cause it's mine now. I've been running around campus in these new designer heels— which look gorgeous but really hurt. My feet are killing me. I definitely have to get a pedicure later...

HEY! Don't think I didn't see you roll your eyes just then!

Look, I've had a REALLY crappy day, okay? I'm quite entitled to complain about it.

First of all... Wait, hold that thought a second, I need a drink.

Excuse me, waitress? I'll have a skinny mocha over here...I don't CARE if that crazy dude with the clown haircut was next! Just bring me my mocha and make it snappy, or there'll be NO generous tip for you!

Where was I...? So, first of all, I'm the most gorgeous girl at Gressenheller. I've got great hair, nice clothes, flawless skin, a figure to die for... People are always giving me compliments; even strangers I've never met before or losers who don't like me.

Second, I'm smart. I know it's hard to believe with how pretty I am and everything. But devastating good looks can be deceiving. I'm actually very passionate when it comes to studying. That's right; I've got beauty and brains, baby.

And third, I could bag any man that I wanted. It's true! Every guy in this room would fall for me if they had the chance. 'Cause of this, I've made a bit of a reputation for myself. It's not MY fault other girls are jealous of me. They should keep a better eye on their boyfriends instead of accusing me of being a slut.

Besides the last part, my life sounds pretty good, doesn't it? You're probably wondering what the hell my problem is... Well, here goes: I'm completely in love with this man... but I think he's scared of me. He never looks directly at me in class, even when I'm trying to get his attention. And he always excuses himself before I have the chance to speak with him properly.

Huh? Who is he?

Only England's most famous gentleman, Professor Layton, duh!

God, there's no need for that disapproving glare. He may be my archaeology professor but he's only, like, fifteen years older than me... alright, sixteen. Honestly though, you'd think he's way younger than that. He's so tall and handsome with his deep dark eyes (much fitter than some of the professors that literally look like they're from the prehistoric age). Everyone's sure he's hiding abs under that orange shirt. I keep trying to get a glimpse but he hardly EVER takes his coat off.

Not only is Professor L sex on a stick, he's refined, hardworking and intelligent. How many perfect men like that can you find in the world? They're extremely rare. That's why you have to hook the best ones before they get away.

And believe me; plenty of ladies (and a few guys) are after Professor Layton. There's even an official Professor Layton Puzzlebook Page, made by yours truly. It already has over two thousand likes, a million posts, hundreds of pictures...

Uh, it's not creepy AT ALL. Just because I like taking pictures of him on my phone does NOT make me a stalker. The papers are filled with photos of the professor and nobody minds them.

Dammit, look what you made me do— I've lost my train of thought now!

Let's see... Oh yeah, my dilemma...

This morning I went to have my weekly private study session with Professor L... Well, it was meant to be private. Before I'd thought there was nothing more annoying than that little half-pint that used to hang around the "Professah!"

I was wrong.

Professor L brought his teenage daughter along to join us in his office. Oh. My. Friggin'. God. She has got to be the most irritating, whiny girl on Earth. The brat kept interrupting our lesson to see if we wanted any of her "famous cucumber sandwiches". (Insert horribly high pitched squeaky voice here.) I considered shoving those sandwiches down her throat just to make her shut up.

Anyway, between the interruptions I kept trying to show the professor that we would be perfect for each other. But either he doesn't notice when I flirt with him... or he politely ignores me.

...Kind of like how YOU'RE ignoring me now. Don't sit there sipping your coffee, listen to me!

Now that I have your attention, what do you think I should do? I've never been rejected by a guy before...

Huh? Back off? Oh, you mean give Professor L some space...?

Hmm... I guess I see what you mean. Subtlety might be a better approach to the professor's heart. It'll be hard not to stick out in his lectures, you know, with how attractive I am, but I'll give it a shot.

Hey, are you leaving? Fine then, go to class. You're no help anyway.

Just you wait. As soon as Professor L isn't so scared of me, he'll totally want to hook up.

Yes, he will. You'll see. No man can resist Rosetta Stone.