/Author's Note: And so I make my less-than-glorious return to the world of Fanfiction writing. Or, any kind of leisurely writing, which is always refreshing after paper after paper on history, religion, philosophy, etc. (Love you too, Liberal Arts...). Singkatsu and I decided to challenge each other to 500-word short stories about a particular couple we chose for each other, in an attempt to exercise our writing abilities and warm-up before returning to more prominent projects. Anywho! She landed me with Lanna & Pierre. I did what I could in 500 words, and I won't deny that this was fun to write :) Next stop, Harvest High! ... maybe. End Author's Note/

A Taste of Two Worlds

Noon.

No, make that two o'clock. That is the time to wake up.

The sun might have had an annoyingly persistent habit of rising as early as four o' clock in the lengthy summer days on the aptly named Sunny Island, but the sun, after all, was not a successful former pop sensation who had toured the world and put its very voice and soul on exhibition for men to fawn over and women to idolize.

Okay, maybe the sun had achieved a similar notoriety for whatever it did - heat the world and keep us alive and whatever. But it was born a star, whereas I, Lanna Royce, had to work for through blood, sweat, and tears.

Well, maybe not blood.

Ick.

Still, there was a lot to be grateful for, living on the secluded Sunny Island as a resigned Idol ('retired' was just too much of an old person word for someone like me) - and if there was one thing I had to choose above all else that'd keep me from ever setting foot on a stage again - it was the food.

Gone were the days where I had to watch my figure, exercise regularly, abide to unnecessarily strict diets. Eating was living, and that being the case, I had never fully lived until I had come to Sunny Island.

Or at least, that's what I thought, until he moved in.

That's when living did, in fact, truly begin.

No, before anyone starts playing paparazzi, I'm not talking about some exotic paramour who came and swept me off my proverbial feet - Heck, I don't think he'd even be able to. Er, not that that's a remark on my weight or anything, I mean, prior remarks on the futility of diets aside, a girl like me knows how to keep herself in shape. The guy was just small, is all.

And cute.

But what makes the heart of pop sensation Lana Royce tick? I was asked the very same question in an interview, what felt like a lifetime ago, and my answer is still the same to this day - a man who knows his way around a kitchen.

When you've starved yourself from all of life's pleasures for the sake of your adoring fans, a serial killer could have come up to you with a pot of Rainbow Curry and you'd be putty in his hands. Which worked out for me, 'cause this guy was not a serial killer. (As far as I knew).

Pierre the Gourmet had arrived on the island in a blaze of indigo glory, donning a fashionable blazer (who didn't love a man in a suit?) and an oversized top hat that only he could truly pull off.

And so, I was the first one to meet him.

And then, I was the first one to befriend him.

And finally, I was the first one to taste his world-renowned Pineapple Pie.

And that sealed the deal - nothing could tempt me back to the world of an Idol.

So, Sun. Shine on. And thank Pierre, if you get the chance, 'cause he's just saved you from the only other star who could possibly rival your luster.