Every Fan Gets a Prize

—xx—

Edward Elric downed a sixth can of soda and slammed the aluminum cylinder on his desk, letting out a loud groan. The overload of caffeine in the short span of time was really making him drunk, or a least sending him on a sugar high big enough to make him tipsy in some way or another. He stared down his homework, half finished and dotted with little brown dots from his coke from the many other times he had slammed his can down and it had sprayed and sputtered out across the wood. He leaned back, his head going towards the ceiling.

"And he plays tennis. Tennis! Who the fuck plays tennis?" He continued out of nowhere, finishing a conversation or sentence from minutes before. "He walks around school and acts like he's a jock or whatever," he was yelling now, "The tennis team are just a bunch of skipping losers. Maybe if he played a real sport, I could respect him and—"

"EDWARD, SHUT UP!" A loud scream came from down the hall. Winry cut him off, as she did many nights. Edward tended to go through sodas like water, something the Granny Rockbell didn't exactly appreciate. He scowled at her through the wall and went back to his homework.

"Come on, Edward, don't be a retard," a voice behind him said, but Edward didn't jump. As always, this voice came to him, mostly because he wanted it to. "Hurry up and finish your homework so we can get to bed."

A hand touched his shoulder and Edward looked up, seeing Roy Mustang. He rolled his eyes and groaned, "Why are you here?"

"Well, Ed, I think that you could have figured that one out."

"I know why you're here," he moved his eyes back to his homework again, "that's obvious, but… gah! You know when you say things like that, it hardly makes the experience real."

"Edward, the experience isn't going to be real, mostly because I'm imaginary."

Edward groaned as his pencil scratched, "That's what I mean, at least you could try."

Roy kneeled down, "But you're controlling me, my dear."

Edward turned in his seat, "But you have just a tiny bit of control, and you know that."

Roy grinned, "I suppose, but it's not very much."

"Think of it this way, Roy," Edward speculated, "Would I ever have you say, 'my dear?'"

Roy pushed off his feet and onto the floor, supporting himself with his hands behind him, "I guess not, my almighty master, Edward."

Edward turned back in his seat and groaned with a slight smile, "What will I do with you?"

"Whatever you like," Roy whispered, "I'm yours, remember."

"Please, control yourself, Mustang."

"Please, do your homework, Edward."

Edward scratched into the paper and the noises in the room disappeared instantly. No more figment Roy. Edward was alone in his thoughts, which happened to be focused on his homework.

—xx—

At the beginning of the year, a couple of weeks back, Edward was merely a freshman, entering Bradley High School for the very first time. Okay, so not for the very first time. Edward had taken summer courses there, and then a year before that, he had taken SAT prep there. Edward, upon entering the seventh grade—or possibly school—had his sights set on one thing. Excelling. One person managed to screw that all up for him, because as he entered that school, the varsity tennis team had just let out of morning practice, and a raven-haired senior walked by him.

Now Edward probably wouldn't have even noticed them if they weren't making a lot of noise, and he certainly wouldn't have noticed Roy if he hadn't been leading the group. Edward had watched the guy lead with a certain self-confidence that could only be overcome when he smirked, right at Edward.

If it weren't for the people pushing him into the building, he probably would have just kept staring at him, and he actually attempted this while moving. Unfortunately, the team was heading the opposite way down the hall that the freshman group was going. They were going to the gym's locker rooms; he was going to the auditorium. Simple as that.

He actually hadn't snapped out of it until Winry plopped down next to him and began talking a mile a minute—as usual. He focused on the opening speech, pushing the unnamed tennis player from his mind; yet, it still lingered towards the front of his mind.

Edward learned the player's name later that week. Roy Mustang. Edward half snorted when he heard it, of course he could have a name like that. A strong, first name, and a fast, semi-expensive car that everyone fawned ever and wanted for themselves—Edward included. Edward couldn't help but wonder how a tennis player could be so popular, after all, tennis wasn't a real jock sport, so what was going on? It really actually should have been obvious. Roy was a very self-assured person with looks that could kill. Turns out he was also intelligent, too. This made him very popular with the ladies, and they flocked to see him gracefully smack a ball around on the tennis court. This made tennis popular. This made Roy popular. Simple as that.

But Edward couldn't help but wonder still. Tennis was boring, he even heard some of Roy's fans comment about that, yet they all talked excitedly about going to every match, as if it were an exam or some sort of all-important class prep. Sure enough, they all attended. Edward, as much as he actually wanted to go to the games, didn't. He couldn't seem to muster up enough confidence to sit with all the girls—after all, he'd look gay, and then he'd be pestered. Not something he wanted with his rep during his freshman year.

As Edward was a freshman and Roy a senior, the two didn't see each other much. True enough, Edward was in a lot of very high up classes—despite the fact that he had skipped a grade—but Roy was in practically all Honors classes. Any classes that weren't were filler classes like pottery that Edward wasn't interested in and hadn't included in his schedule. On a very scarce and lucky occasion, the two would bump into each other in the hallway, sometime when one or both were out during class for various reasons, or in the morning or afternoon. Otherwise their paths would not cross. Once in a while, when they did, Roy would speak to Edward. Not anything intense, just simple things. One day, a lengthy one happened upon them in the middle of fourth period.

"Oh, hey," Roy smiled at the freshman who was passing him down the deserted hall, "hey you!"

Edward looked up at the voice, but then realized that it was none other than Roy Mustang. He nearly blushed but somehow contained himself. What to do, what to do. He couldn't show his secret admiration and affection for him, no that wouldn't do, so he would have to do the complete opposite.

"What?" He replied, just a little too harshly.

"Jeez, I just had a question, kid." He stared at him for a second, as if to find something deeper, making Edward uncomfortable. "Do I know you?"

Edward shrugged nervously, "No, why?"

Roy raised an eyebrow, "What's your deal?"

"What's yours?"

There was silence for a while, where Edward was expecting the man to yell or insult or even lash out, but instead, his face broke out into a smile. He fought back another blush.

"You're funny, kid." Roy approached him, "Anyway, my question was that did you catch the score of the football team last night."

Edward took this chance to really study Mustang. He had a very clean, white complexion that made Edward jealous. Edward sometimes felt a little uneasy about his burned, tan, and pale all at once skin tone, though no one noticed, and the one person he had actually told this about told him "you're crazy, now go to sleep." This was Alphonse. His black hair seemed pleasurable untamable, not in any bad way of any sort. He was much, much taller than Edward, and he had an athletic body, but he didn't have gross, overpowering muscles. Edward could feel himself drooling

"Hello?" Roy snapped his fingers in front of his face, "Hey, kid, wake up."

Edward blinked before furrowing his brow, "Quit calling me 'kid;' I'm not even that young."

Roy smirked, "How old are you, 12? You look like a seventh grader, do you even belong here? You're awful short for a freshman, even."

"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU CALLING SO DAMN SHORT THAT HE COULD PASS FOR A FIRST GRADER THAT SKIPPED A GRADE AND STARTED SCHOOL EARLY?" Edward shouted, face turning bright red. His voice echoed down the hallway and back. Roy had taken a step backwards, in fear of killing his hearing and of the boy in front of him. Edward, after realizing that he had screamed out another rant, flushed even deeper and said, "I'm fourteen, you bastard."

Roy blinked and stared at him for a second. "Hey, kid, ever hear of Ritalin?" He smirked again and said, "Fourteen, huh? I still say you look twelve, but, hey, whatever you say."

Having the same urges of wanting to kiss someone and hit them over the head with an aluminum bat is a very strange feeling. Edward stared up at the raven-haired upperclassman with these exact feelings in his mind. "What's your problem with me, you stupid bastard? No, I don't know your stupid football score."

"You know, shrimp, it's not very proper for freshmen to address seniors that way, especially senior athletes." He smiled, "You should really be more respectful."

"Why the hell should I be respectful to you?" Edward turned on his heels and started to walk down the hall towards his locker. He really didn't mean to be this mean to him, but Roy's quick wit and mean sense of humor wasn't making it hard to want to smack him.

But as he walked away, Roy, once again, stopped him. "So, what's your name?"

This made Edward turn once again, mostly because this guy was showing interest in him, even if he was a stupid bastard in Edward's eyes. "Edward. Edward Elric."

"Well, Edward, Edward Elric," Roy joked, "What are you doing here in the halls?"

"Ha ha," Edward said dully, "Very, very funny, Mr. Mustang. I'm getting my English textbook that I have left in my locker. If you'll excuse me, I can get—"

"I see you know my name." Roy smirked, "English, huh? Who've you got?"

Edward rolled his eyes at the thought of his dull English teacher, "Dr. Kelsey."

He saw Roy shudded, "Oh, I'm sorry." He clenched his teeth. "But in this case, that is quite fortunate." He smirked, "C'mon, come with me."

"What?"

"Just a few minutes, then I'll let you go back to class, he won't notice." Roy walked ahead of the blonde, and he had no choice but to follow him.

There was a silence as Edward followed the tall senior down the hall before he asked, "What are you doing out here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Roy said, turning to him, "I'm cutting class."

Edward's eyes widened, "What?" He blinked. "I thought that you were, like an awesome student or something. How can you get good grades and have all the teachers like you if you don't go to class?"

"Ah, my freshy-friend, you have it mixed up." He walked to Edward, "Because I get good—oh, who are we kidding—fantastic grades and all the teachers love me, I can skip class. You have to do that part first. They'll either brush it off or they won't notice. Depends on the class. Of course, you can't do it with every teacher and every class. I definitely would not skip Chem. That would be a disaster."

Edward stood awestruck. "You're crazy."

"If that's what you wanna think, sure." Roy said, smiling slightly, "But either way, follow me."

As they walked, Roy chattered about something, but Edward wasn't listening. He was too busy trying to sort out what was happening. How the hell was he walking here, talking to Roy Mustang? Edward shook his head, this was impossible. It had to be a dream. He stared up at him as he continued on about some team. Edward blinked. Even though he had been a total jackass to him, he was still here, walking and talking with the one person that seemed to stop his dreams. He couldn't help it. The words just sort of…fell from his mouth.

"Why are you talking to me?" he blurted. He covered his mouth with his hands and Roy stopped talking, having been interrupted.

"What?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Why are you talking to me? I mean, you just met me and I'm just a freshman. You're a popular senior and I've just been mean to you. You should hate me."

Roy stared. "What, do you not want me to talk to you? You can go back to class if you want. I'm not stopping you."

"No, that's not what I mean." Edward shrugged, "It just seems kind of weird."

"I don't know, Ed," he replied, calling him by his name for the second time, "I guess you're interesting. You're the first person to talk to me like that, say what you want. You're also a freshman, so it shows me you have spunk. I don't know. People seem intimidated by me, like if they say something wrong I'll hate them or something." He walked to the railing by one of the windows and leaned over it. "You're kind of weird and kind of cool, Edward."

Blush explosion.

"Oh, t-thanks, Roy." He cursed himself for stuttering. "So you're on the tennis team then?"

Roy stood up and blinked, "Uh, yeah."

"Oh, sorry, I'm just trying to create conversation, so just go along with it, you bastard." Edward growled.

"How did you go from apologizing to me to insulting me?" He blinked, "you're crazy."

"Shut up, you're stupid." Edward leaned his back up against the railing.

"No. I'm not." Roy said, leaning against the railing again, "I'm the top of my class, thank you."

"So? So am I."

Roy stared, "You're a freak, kid."

"I told you not to call me kid."

"What would you prefer? Shrimp would probably do." He smirked.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL THAT WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO CARRY A NICKNAME AS IT IS SO BIG THAT IT WOULD CRUSH HIM BECAUSE HE'S SUCH A SHRIMP!" Edward steamed.

"I didn't say anything like that. It doesn't even make sense." Roy pointed out. "I could call you freak, you know. That would definitely suit you."

"How about I call you 'the biggest fucking bastard to walk the earth?'" Edward suggested, "That might be putting it lightly though."

"Temper, Temper," Roy sighed, "Ah, I see that you're going to do well here." Roy stared out into the fields for a second, "You like tennis?" he wondered.

Edward blinked, "Uh, no, why?"

Roy turned to him and smiled, "no reason."

"Uh, okay." He said.

For a while the two just stared out at the warm Los Angeles landscape. If you stared really hard, you could see the coast line in the background. Palm trees blew in the wind and Edward longed to push forward and throw the window open. Roy smiled softly at the sun before speaking up, "You should probably go back to class."

Edward pushed off the railing and nodded. "Whatever."

Roy smirked, "R-I-T-A-L-I-N, Edward. Ritalin."

"I don't need Ritalin, you bastard."

"That's what they all say."

"You're a real mother fucker."

"Ow, such language breaks my heart from such a young boy."

"Fuck you. Fuck fuck fuck."

"You know that if a teacher hears you, you're screwed."

"Good for me."

Roy rolled his eyes as Edward reached for his locker door. "What are you doing?"

"Getting my books. That's what I came out here for, you idiot."

"Sorry, kid, I have more important things to do than track why you're out in the hall."

Edward grabbed his English book and slammed his door. "I wish you would just shut up."

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why do you wish I would shut up?"

"Because, you're as annoying as hell."

"Yet you're still talking to me."

"Shut up."

"No." Roy smiled.

"Well," Edward growled, "unless you would like to continue this conversation with yourself, you have to, because this is my classroom."

Roy frowned, "Fine. Go back to class."

"What's wrong, are you gonna miss me?" Edward smirked in front of the door.

"Nah," Roy said, "It'll be kind of boring without anyone in the hallway, but I'll manage. There's stuff to do when everyone's in class."

"You should go back to class, Mustang." Edward said, frowning, "You shouldn't skip class if you want to be top of your class."

"Who says I want to be?" Roy said, "I just am."

Edward smiled, "Whatever. Are you sure he's not going to notice?"

"Yeah, I used to go to the vending machines in his classes all the time when I was in English I."

"Alright, If he doesn't let me in, I'm gonna blame you." Edward said.

"Like he'll believe you. Want a licorice? I've got a ton in my pocket."

"What?"

He pulled a strip of red licorice from his jacket pocket, "Here. I don't even know why I have these. See ya later."

"Sure, you wish." Edward said, placing his hand on the knob. Roy walked down the hallway whistling some crazy tune and kicking his feet. Edward rolled his eyes and whispered, "What a freak." He opened the door, and sure enough, the teacher didn't even turn from the board. Edward smirked as his friend stared at him in awe. Sitting down next to Russel, he smiled sweetly.

A tap went on the back of his shoulder and he turned around, "What?"

Envy. Ok, Thomas. Not a very becoming name. He chose Envy. "Where the hell where you?"

"In the hall, duh."

"No shit, what were you doing?" He pushed a lock of green hair from his face.

"I ran into a senior and we talked."

"Ooh! A senior?" Winry cut in from behind him, "Who? What was his name?"

"It was Roy Mustang."

Winry stared. "You're kidding. What's he like?"

He started to say that he was nice, but then he realized. Roy Mustang had really been bittersweet. "He's a real bastard."

"You talked to someone that bad for that long?" Russel said with a questioning look on his face.

"You'd be surprised." Edward then ended the conversation by turning to face the lecture about the Golden Gate bridge. Thrills beyond belief.

—xx—

Edward finally dropped his pencil and let out a sigh. Finally, he was done with his homework. He stood up and heard the voice come back.

"God, finally, you're done." Figment Roy was leaning against the wall, "I think I could have only waited a few more minutes."

"God damnit you are such a liar." Edward said, "Like you even had to wait."

"You said to make it more real. Would you like me to go back to before? You're such an idiot."

"Shut up. I need to change."

"You're so nice to me."

"Would you like me to be all cuddly? That'd be boring."

"For you, maybe."

"Yeah, well, you aren't real." Edward said, retreating to his closet.

"Shut up."

"Now you're sounding like me." Edward said in sing-song from the closet.

"Heh, sure."

Edward emerged from the closet and climbed in to his bed. He felt the bed depress as Figment Roy moved in on him and put his arms around him. They were neither warm nor cold. They were simply there around him, and somehow, it hurt.

Before he drifted off to sleep, Edward made a list in his mind.

Things to Remember:

Figment Roy kind of sucks

That licorice is going to go bad soon

Homework is evil

I bet the real Roy is better than Figment Roy

Saving myself for Roy is not an easy task

Try to think about Roy a little less.

A/N: Damn. I've done it. I've jumped into the AU pool. Please, just shoot me now. I know… the age difference of Roy and Ed is just… smaller. You're all thinking, Roy should be a teacher. How will it work? Well I have one thing to say to you:

Shut up.

o.o I know. I know. I've completely slaughtered the character of Roy. Making him a teenager had to make him a little more careless right? Right? I hope. I promise that if you don't like it, you will eventually. I'll try my hardest and please feel free to give me any suggestions if you like. PLEASE! Alright. I must go. I hope you liked my first chapter.

Love,
Ales

Psh… and the imaginary thing… It's going somewhere.