It started with a boy, as these stories usually do. His name was Stuart. Stuart Pot. There was a rumor going around that it was Tusspot or something but it was just Pot. Some of his friends called him Stu-Pot but he was just Stu to me.

Stu was my best friend. I say that in past tense for no particular reason other than the fact that the Stu I'm talking about is completely different from the 2D I'm friends with now.

Anyways, Stu was my best friend. He and I had met in sixth grade when he fell out of a tree. He hit his head and his shiny brown hair had fallen out in clumps until he finally had nothing left to lose. When his hair eventually grew back it was a beautiful azure blue. To this day it is still my favorite color.

By the time I turned 15 I realized something:

I had fallen in love with Stuart (Tuss)Pot.

It began on August 15, 1997. Stu had just closed down shop for the two person dance party we have every Friday. This tradition had started with Stu showing me the new music featured at the record store he worked at to what it now was, a dance party.

"So what have you got today, Stu?" I asked heaving myself onto the counter and watching him scurry around the room, grabbing random records.

"Elle, you won't believe it." He held up an album cover that I didn't know. "We just got in the new Moldy Peaches album."

I laughed; he always got excited when he found new music. While he wasn't entirely sure what he wanted to do with his life he knew one thing: he loved music. It was definitely something he considered a part of him. And potentially a part of his future.

He carefully placed the Moldy Peaches album on the record player and gently lowered the arm onto it. There were a few scratchy noises and finally the opening notes to a song played through the speakers.

He held out a hand.

"Dance with me." He whispered.

His brown eyes locked with mine and I felt the blush creep up my neck. I pulled at the ends of my blonde hair nervously.

"I don't know Stu. We usually dance to loud, fast music. Nothing like this. I just don't think I can dance a slow dance. I—."

"Eleanor Mede, take my hand." He said, firmly yet kindly.

For a moment I just stared at him. It had been about four years since I had realized my feelings for him but the time didn't make the butterflies go away. Cautiously, slowly, I took his hand. He smiled at me and my heartbeat kicked up a notch.

He spun me around before capturing my waist in his left hand. The proximity we were to each other made me painfully aware of the blush staining my cheeks and the speed of my heartbeat.

It was strange, the feeling I was having. I had no intention of leaving his arms. He smelled like cigarettes, the dusty record store, and incense. Yet at the same time I was so mortified I wanted to just melt right into the floor.

"You keep biting your lip. Is sommfink wrong?" He asked, waking me from my thoughts.

"What? Oh, no. Just thinking," I paused for a moment searching for an excuse, "thinking about how much I love this song. Man, it's just great."

I grinned at him praying he'd just accept the answer and move on.

He shrugged his shoulders. "'K."

The chords to the song faded away and all that was left was a pressing silence and Stu's hand still holding mine. His eyes flickered down to my lips and a shiver wriggled up my spine. There was a pregnant pause and then…

He pulled away.

"So…um…you want a pop?" he asked.

I stared at him, my mouth slightly open. I was still processing what had (and hadn't) happened.

"Oh, uh, yeah. I'll go get it. Do you want something?"

Stu did a half shrug-nod. "Yeah. Uh, whatever's in a bottle."

I nodded at him making eye contact before pushing past him and heading down to the cellar.

The cellar was a spooky place. It looked like it once could have had potential to be a killer bachelor's pad but now all that was left was a cooler full of drinks, both alcoholic and not, and dark corners with shadows that moved in the corners of your eyes. Usually I was chicken and had Stu go down and get me a drink but I needed some time to think.

I grabbed a beer and cracked it open. He wanted to kiss me, right? Isn't that what it means when you stare at someone's lips? I mean, maybe not when you're talking but when you're standing in the middle of a record store slow dancing, wouldn't that be a different story?

There was a creak upstairs. It was about where Stu was when I left him. I wondered how he felt about this. Was he questioning every motion we had gone through tonight?

Why didn't he kiss me? I could tell he wanted to, so why didn't he? Should I have kissed him?

There was another creak from upstairs as well as a screech of tires from somewhere outside.

Should I tell him how I feel? What if he rejects me? What if he doesn't?

I cleared my throat. I'd never officially stated my feelings for him out loud. I wanted to hear how they'd sound, how they'd feel, how they'd taste.

"Stuart Pot, I think I'm in lo—."

There was another screech of tires outside, louder now. It sounded like it was headed toward—

CRASH.

I heard the window shatter and the engine of a car revv and then I heard Stu yelp.

"Stuart!" I exclaimed, sprinting toward the stairs, spilling my beer on my way.

When I reached the top of the stairs the first think I realized was the car. It had smashed through the window and was now resting bumper to cash register. The second thing I noticed was the blue-haired boy between both car and register.

"Stu!" I exclaimed rushing to him. He was dead, he had to be. No one could survive something like that.

I felt the tears fill my eyes. Stuart Pot, the boy I loved, dead before I could even tell him so.

The sound of cackling pulled me out of my lament. The asshole who had killed my best friend was laughing.

"What the fuck is your problem?" I screamed at him. "You just ran my best friend down and now you're laughing? What kind of sick bastard are you?"

The man stopped laughing long enough to look at me. He got a few more chuckles out before switching up his act.

"Well hello luv'. I'm not one for pick up lines usually but is Heaven missing an angel?" he smiled at me, his green and yellow teeth revolting in the pale light of the record store.

"You're disgusting and pathetic." I spat.

I started to turn back to go back to Stu's body when I heard that monster speak again.

"So do you want a quick shag? 'Cause I gotta get goin' before the coppers come. Can't get my arse arrested." He laughed heartily at his joke before looking at me, a disgusting glint in his eye.

I heard the sirens in the distance but it didn't register in my mind. I was fuming. He runs over my best friend and then just expects a shag? Before I could register what I was doing he was on his back while I was above him, sitting on his chest.

"Oho, so we're doing it right here in front of that blue-haired freak's corpse? You naughty girl." He chuckled and brought his hands to the bottom of my shirt but I pushed them away.

"Don't. Touch. Me." I said punching him as hard as I could between every word.

Arms wrapped around me just as I was going to knee him somewhere it really hurt.

"Ma'am you are under arrest. Whose car is this?" The policeman asked.

I pointed a finger at the revolting man still chuckling on the ground.

The policeman sighed.

"Murdoc Niccols, we meet again." He said hitching up his belt.

Murdoc stopped cackling. Climbing to his feet he glared at the cop.

"Oh bugger." He muttered, rolling his eyes.

There was a gurgle of what sounded like "El" and everyone, even Murdoc, stopped in their tracks.

"Did you all hear that?" He said.

"Stuart?" I whispered.

"Who?" the cop asked.

"Stu!" I yelled, wrenching myself away from the policeman's arms.

"Stu? Can you hear me?" I said, lightly pushing his shoulder.

He groaned but said nothing.

"Good God, there's a kid under there." The cop said. He pointed at the other officer. "Call for back-up."

Murdoc had gone a pale green. I had a feeling that this was the first time he had almost killed someone. For the moment though I couldn't think anything other than Stuart.

He had miraculously survived.

Hey guys, long time, no see. I'm going to try to start and keep a story going. I've been in a kind of a Gorillaz phase. In fact I'm pretty sure I've OD'd on Gorillaz once or twice in the past week. It is the only thing that I've listened to. But I hope that this takes off and I hope that you enjoy it.

You see that little Review button right at the bottom of this screen? That's where you can give me input on if I should continue this story or not.

Thanks guys. Stay classy.