Nobody's perfect.

People say it all the time, and I've known since I was a child that it's true. I've known, but I've never fully comprehended it up until the age of twenty.

I guess growing up with an upbringing of rom-coms, family, and friends who always had a significant other at their side kind of made me a black sheep in the world of amour. Of course, I wasn't stupid. I knew when a person liked someone or when a relationship wasn't working out, yet I could never tell when those moments I nitpick for my loved ones happened to me. It's like my cousin Iroha told me that time she broke up with her first boyfriend; "You never realize the mistakes you're making until they've already happened". In the same way, I never noticed when a boy liked me until the feeling was gone.

Kind of sad, right? To be a twenty year old girl who had never gone out on a date, kissed a boy, or had a Valentine that wasn't her mother. But that was the life I made for myself, and really, I'm perfectly fine with it (as difficult as it may seem). At least I was, until my lovely friend Lily just had to meddle.

Don't get me wrong, Lily is a wonderful girl who can bring light and laughs to any persons day, even if she's always been more of a moon gal. That doesn't mean she's perfect; one of her little ticks is that she (along with a few family members) would always want to set me up with 'Mr. Perfect.' We both laughed when I pointed this flaw out, because Lily has always been the type to believe that relationships never last. 'Mars and Venus are separate by several light years for a reason.' She seems to think this 'fact' does not apply to me. In her eyes I'm the sort of girl who can break the norm and find that boy every girl dreams of. I just 'need to play the field to get there.' She also knows the only sport I've ever played longer than three minutes is soccer, and that was because the players in my team were terrible.

So that brings us to my main point; she set me up to go on a group date with some foreigners.

Oh yeah, hot guys from another ethnic group. Every girls dream.

Every girl except mine.

I only agreed because we have been friends for so long and I figured she deserved to see I care, even if I was utterly weirded out by the idea of going on a date with her internet buddies that were only going stay here for a week. Mind you, I didn't know that last part of data till I was fiddling with my seat belt while we waited for the traffic light outside my apartment complex to turn green.

The idea of jumping out the car window crossed my mind several times that night.

It still happened. I still met the guys and I found out they were a curious mixture of nationalities. Legally they were from America but their birth place was here, right in our lil' town millions of miles away from the home their parents chose to visit when their mothers were ready to pop, a home that was millions of miles away from their parents birthplaces. That was just one of the many pieces of information I learned from 'Bruno Mars'.

Okay, he is not Bruno Mars, but his first name is Bruno. Can't remember the last, but at least I remember the first. That's who I was set up with. The Latin-American-Japanese who could somehow speak all three languages while I struggle with learning two. Or should I mention Al? The guy who's Japanese-Swedish and raised in Taiwan for the other half of his life, who speaks better English than the other languages he should know. Lucky for him I'm a good friend and forced Lily to take extra English classes with me all those years ago.

It pays off to have a friend who loves foreign languages.

The date wasn't what I expected, which was natural because I didn't really expected anything except to be embarrassed, which I was at one point. That point being when I locked eyes with Bruno and got all the words knocked out of me. That basically translates to me not knowing what to say and looking like a total fool until he took me by the hand, guided me to a separate booth at the dinner we were in, looked me in the eyes, and said 'if you don't talk to me I'll be forced to kiss you into submission.'

Please tell me that I wasn't the only confused person out there. Just let me know if someone was in my situation they would have muttered a 'what' breathlessly as well.

No one? Guess I'm just talking to myself.

Yeah, that's definitely nothing new.

He laughed then, and that laugh was what helped me unwind. That laugh helped me laugh too. It helped me open up and give talking to total strangers who I'd probably never see again in my life another go. It also helped give me a wicked headache in the morning thanks to only sleeping three hours. Got to love phone alarms.

I was wrong to think I'd never see them again. They purposely missed their flight and booked another one to stay two more weeks, giving 'wanting to see more of the land that could have been their home' as an excuse to those who were important enough to hear their change in plans.

I will never forget those two weeks, riddled with headaches and more sightseeing than I would have ever done by myself. I never experience getting blisters from walking in high heels for hours, eating out at expensive restaurants, and not fretting over the tab. Nor did I ever feel frustrated from being nagged to talk to a boy who I knew would never be more than 'the guy I met the April of 99'.

That was Lily's life, not mines.

It wasn't, except that April, where I decided to try something different and wind up seeing golden eyes, curly locks, and realizing it's possible to be content with 'just friends'. It is possible to like a person of the opposite sex and not have it be sexual or overly romantic. It's not going end up like the movies where the lead runs to the airport to confess their love only to end up with the person staying because they love the other too much to go. It doesn't have to be a fling and it doesn't have to end in tears. It's just meeting a guy, spending lots of time with him, and realizing that I shouldn't lose the chance to meet new people.

Bruno made me realize that, and he also made me realize that I was wrong. I always believe I didn't care about beauty; if he was understanding and funny then I'd be happy. It turns out I have higher standards than I'd thought.

Bruno wasn't a fling. He wasn't my Mr. Perfect. He was just a guy I met who showed me I am pretty, I should be content with myself, but I ought to open up to the idea of getting to know others because I'll never know what I'm missing if I never had it.

Nobody's perfect. Bruno isn't, Lily isn't, Prince Charming isn't, and neither am I. And I like it like that.

A/ n:

Disclaimer: Vocaloid isn't mine. All that belongs to me is the idea.

This is a oneshot I wrote one day and decided it was good enough to publish. I hope you readers enjoyed it.