Hanabi Sakura again. Did you miss me? Maybe when you hear the next part of my story you'll wish I had never gone back. Would it help if I told you that none of it was my doing? Sadly, I cannot say it wasn't with complete assurance. Curse you, Kyouya Ootori!

I groaned as a sliver of light interrupted my peaceful darkness. Turning in my bed, I opened my eyes in thin slits, trying to adjust. Ugh. Turning around, I looked at my clock. 5 AM, in blinking lights. I rolled over and covered my head with the heavy blanket, showing only a slight groan. I pretended not to hear the approaching footsteps, and pretended not to feel the chill sent down my spine. As a pair of hands gently folded the blanket down below my head, I rolled by mistake onto the other side of my bed. Did I mention it was a mistake?

Kyouya, curse him, was there, bending over me with a smile. He knelt down next to my bed and said softly, "I'm sorry to have woken you." Frowning, but still in a sleepy-dreaming state, I said, "Kyouya, its 5 in the morning. Go to sleep, please?" I was too tired to even yell at him. Nodding, he got up and went to the bathroom, presumably to change and go to the restroom. Moments later, I felt a figure crawl into my bed. I froze. I might have been tired before, but I woke up now. "KYOUYA, GO INTO YOUR OWN BED!"

Haha, here's an A/N. Sakura would like me to tell you guys that no, they aren't married, and because I'm to lazy to write a mini prologue on what really happened, I shall summarize quite wonderfully in a paragraph or two of italics.

Here we go! So, in case you didn't read Sakura's first account, "My Warning? Don't Fall in Love!", You should. Because I ain't summarizing that. Okay, maybe I will a bit. Sakura used to be in love with Mr. Ootori Kyouya. That is, until he broke her heart. And then he tried to make up for it, but she didn't believe him. Here Sakura is screaming. "It's your fault for making it that way!" This is true.

Nowww~~ Apparently Sakura's parents wanted to utilize their assets, namely their daughter, so Sakura is engaged to the very dog she thought she got rid of. –evil grin- So now they live together, Sakura goes to Ouran, and gee wiz, it's gonna be a ton of fun!

Let's say the now affectionate Ootori isn't keeping his distance. Sakura no likey? –whimper- but I like it that way! And here she glares. On with the story!

Wait! That idiot JuniperScaymoore is a horrible A/N writer! Sakura here and I'll clarify using these bold italics. Okay, so here's the, ahem, current situation. Basically, I do attend Ouran, but since I am still a model, I only attend his club meetings three times a week. Don't go thinking I enjoy going to his school, either! I have to see his face, attend classes… but more on that later

I have to keep up my public image though, so anywhere people might notice, I call him "Kyouya-kun", which isn't as affectionate as the "Kyou-kun" I used to call him, but is acceptable. I drop all of that when I get home. "Kyouya" is his name and it is fine for my purposes. Think of it as a game, if you will.

The next morning, I woke up, bright and early. Unlike my fiancée, I easily woke up in the mornings, so at about 7 o'clock, I was wide awake. I turned over to look at Kyouya's bed-he was asleep, and still as a corpse. I didn't bother waking him; I had gone through this routine three times already. The first alarm began to ring, and a powerful throw destroyed it completely even before it landed across the room. The second went off, and then immediately the third went off. After merely smashing the second with less force, Kyouya finally sat up to the third alarm. His bodyguard stuck in his head to nod when he saw Kyouya was up. I would have giggled at the hilarious routine, if I didn't hate him so.

Anyways, after my shower, I put on the Ouran uniform I abhorred. Not that I didn't like the uniform—its soft yellow in French style was beautiful, and it was quite comfortable actually. I wore my hair straight down, in its soft-brown manner, held back with a pin that Kyouya gave me. Here it was, the moment the world had been waiting for—the appearance of Kyouya's loving fiancée, Sakura-chan. I would have to hold back my hate, but this is the image I projected around everyone. As Kyouya would put it, there was merit in this façade.

Stepping outside the bathroom, Kyouya stood at the door, waiting for me. I smiled, my character already in place. "Kyouya-kun, let's go." He nodded, and we proceeded to the door. He very charmingly opened the door of the car for me, and then sat next to me and smiled. Inwardly, I flinched. Kyouya may know that my friendliness was just an act, but he proceeded to act very familiar with me despite that.

Later, in the classroom, I sat facing the window in my cozy corner seat. Trying my best on studies, I struggled to understand the difficult concepts of high-school work. "Hanabi-san," The teacher called, "Would you please read on from there?" I stood, mind in a flurry, though I smiled outwardly. Stumbling, I attempted to read the harsh English words.

"T-the wind blows from misty skies…" I read on, delighting that I had not forgotten the English Kyouya taught me so long ago. Then I stopped. I was glad because I wasn't embarrassed, not because Kyouya had taught me the skill. Yes, that was the reason. After a paragraph or so of reading, I stopped, quite please with myself. The teacher nodded, and complimented me with a light voice. "Yes, very good… except you read from the wrong page." While the entire class laughed, I hid my face in a flurry of red. With this, my fiancée managed to compliment me with a slight laugh.

Today, I didn't have any modeling jobs straight after school, yet I did not feel like going to club. Sensing a chance to make my image between Kyouya and myself stronger, I walked over to his desk after class, asking him for a favor he would never be able to grant—time away from the club. "Kyouya-kun," I began, remembering to fidget slightly like a true actor. "Could Kyouya-kun tutor me after classes? I am afraid I don't understand the math work at all." This part, at least, was true. Even at my old school I had been absolutely horrible at math. Social Studies as well, but I didn't take that course now that I was here in Ouran. Knowing that he had club activities however, I delighted in the fact that he wouldn't be able to comply, no matter how much he wanted to.

Then, to my complete and total surprise, I received a smile from him as he nodded, and agreed. I, retrieving my composure immediately, looked down, pretended to blush slightly, and said thank you. I had forgotten the club wasn't open to customers today. What did that mean? Kyouya, one point, Sakura, zero.

Somehow, when we sat inside the club room, we were truly alone. Haruhi and the twins had left, to who knows where, Honey-sempai was at Mori-sempai's Kendo club practice with him, and Tamaki had fled elsewhere. Sitting at the table next to my fiancée, I felt extremely ticked off and frustrated. At the moment, he had me concentrated on the math homework.

"If you apply this formula here, you see that x becomes 42, and filling x into this equation here, you can easily solve for y by distributing this value into…" My head swum, my mind lost. I groaned, banging my head to the wooden table in frustration, but immediately being stopped by Kyouya, who lifted my chin up to check for bruising. "Sakura-chan, you should take more care of yourself, after all, you have your modeling job to do." His eyes lingered on me a second longer than needed, and, blushing, I swept away his hand.

I tried the next problem, and, as he was truly efficient, I completed it with little difficulty. In a moment of sudden happiness, I laughed and kissed Kyouya on the cheek. "Arigatou, Kyou-kun!!"

I realized my mistake almost immediately, but looked away and did not notice my fiancée's reddening cheeks. He held his unnerving composure though, and thanked me. Point for Kyouya, Sakura… still zero.

Nighttime was often the most frustrating part of my day. Kyouya had helped me to my homework, (which Ouran, strangely, but suitably for my purposes, gave quite little of), and I had finished my modeling work for the day, so at eight o'clock, I was already in bed, flipping through a magazine. At eight-thirty, I put away the magazine, shut off the light, ready for sleep. Kyouya, tapping away at his idiotic laptop, called out, "Oyasuminasaii, Sakura-chan." Good night, Sakura-chan. I was did not respond to his call, but to the tip-tap of the keys as he calculated his finances or something. "Kyouya, I can't fall asleep with you at the computer like that." He responded, not pausing, "Gomen, Sakura-chan, but I have to finish this. I'll be done very quickly." I sighed and turned over. The slightest sound kept me awake, and though minute, these keys were moving rapidly at a pace I found extremely distracting. I would just have to bear with it at the moment.

Nine o'clock, the digital LED lights held the time still on my tabletop. Kyouya was sitting by his desk, light on, computer on, still tapping away. At this rate I would never be able to sleep! What if I got bags under my eyes? Yes, concealer, but it would still be horrible. Losing sleep over my fiancée's work was not a good plan. "Kyouya…" He looked up from his computer, frowning, said with an impatient and impudent tone, "What is it now, Sakura-chan?" I sucked in a deep breath, and then let my frustration loose. "Kyouya, unless you plan on shutting down your computer and going to bed this instant, GO OUTSIDE TO FINISH YOUR WORK!" Kyouya reeled back, but then thought for a second. "Hai, hai, Sakura-chan, I'll go outside." I thanked him curtly and then fell asleep. Yelling at ex-best friends really took a lot out of a person.

So now, it was four in the morning, and Kyouya had come back into the room. He was quiet, but the light from the hallway woke me up. I groaned, and he apologized. Coming to my bedside, he kissed my cheek, and I was too groggy, too tired, to argue. I sat up and watched him with unsteady eyes as he moved around the room, ducking once into the bathroom to change and brush his teeth, ducking back out and going to bed. Staring once more at him, I slipped under my covers again, and immediately became asleep. I didn't dream, not that I usually do, but I felt a sort of heaviness that was different from the usual light, airy feeling I held while asleep. The next morning became the first time I had overslept since the age of eight.

The night after that, I became determined that Kyouya, his entire low-blood pressure situation, Shadow King Persona, and stubborn nature, was all due to irregular sleeping patterns. So, that night at eight, I prepared to sleep, and sat myself in his king-sized bed. Kyouya, with his eyes fixated on his computer, didn't notice, but at eight-thirty, he called out as always, "Good night, Sakura-chan." I didn't answer, but ducked under his feather down covers (under which I had already been once before). At nine, he stopped typing, but only long enough to disconnect his computer so he could bring it outside. He glanced at my bed, but with alarm looked around the room, for I was not there. His eyes stopped at his own bed, saw me curled up there, and chuckled. He shut down his computer, put it down, and then came over. "Are you trying to invite me to go to bed, Sakura-chan?" I matched his eyes with my own fiercely stubborn expression and didn't say a word. He laughed again and left, but later rejoined me as he crawled into bed. I pulled on his arm slightly (not affectionately), and went to bed. As if to please me, he, too went to sleep. I slept contentedly that night, but when he left again around midnight, I do believe a shiver went down my spine that it was indeed warmer with his presence. He came back at four again, and I was half conscious but grabbed his arm once more. I dreamed, dreamed of a horse-drawn carriage and a splendid gown with sparkling gossamer threads… though it probably didn't mean anything.

Despite the strange, NON-intimate sleeping arrangements we held that night, in the morning when I awoke, refreshed, I was back to hating my fiancée again. I woke up to the smashing of his first alarm and realized that regular sleep truly was not part of the Kyouya persona, and therefore sleeping in the same bed would no longer be necessary.

When we were getting into the car later, I remembered something horrifying. Where were my birthday presents? The ring Kyouya had given me (I decided the pear cut was fine anyway) sparkled on my finger, the sword from Mori-kun and Honey-kun had probably melted by then, but where was the pillow cover Haruhi made me, or moreover, the puppy Hikaru and Kaoru had given me? That beautiful golden retriever that I hadn't even named yet… where had it gone? Kyouya, peering at my horrified face, asked what was wrong. Dismayed, I told him my concern. Relaxing, as if it were no loss at all, he updated me about the status of my presents. "The ring lies on your finger," he began—I knew that—"The sword, well, what's left of it, most of it melted on your birthday, that's in the kitchen's cold-storage. I doubt you'd want the rest though, it's something only Honey could digest…" I nodded numbly in agreement, anticipating the rest of the statement. "Haruhi's pillow-case was too small to use on your bed, but you can find it being used on the couch." He stopped his report at that point, but, having waited this long, I asked him myself.

"Where's my puppy?" He froze, as if he had hoped I had forgotten. He looked at me, pondering a fact, trying to wish my puppy away. At that point, we pulled up at Ouran and he took the opportunity to stall. Jumping out of the car, he held it open for me as common courtesy but slammed it behind me. As we walked up to the doors of our school, he did not meet my eye.

I glared at him during class, but after lunch I had to leave for a photo shoot. Taking a deep breath, I assured myself that I would thoroughly hurt Kyouya if he had done something to my beautiful puppy. I left it at that.

I greeted the photographer by name; he was one of my favorites who knew how to make even the snootiest, most horrible amateur model look as professional as regulars like me (and how much better did he make us then, something worship-worthy of course). I was shooting for a promotion for model camp, so I could let loose, choose my outfit, and have fun with some other models, not that I would. This camp in particular charged too much for commoners (upper-class don't have time for modeling unless they specialized in it, and those who wanted to try it hired their own crew), and really didn't teach well either. Still, it fun for some, and that was what mattered.

We split up into groups, divided by scenery and background, and then further divided by experience—regulars like me went first and the newcomers (that is, those that would be gone by next season), watched and had one or two pictures of their own. Of course, I would be nice to all but not overly friendly. In the modeling scene, the truly great stay detached.

We all chose two; the first I chose was the 'ghetto' scene. I chose a royal blue tee with a girly light jacket over it. Dark denim shorts and soft makeup made the childish yet feminine style complete, but to add an even better touch I put on puffy gray arm warmers. I had seen similar styles in the magazines I posed for and on the streets of Shibuya, so critics surely would not complain. My hair was arranged with a side ponytail that the hairstylist curled just so. She was another one of my favorites to work with—this strange camp had gone all out with their promotional campaign. Grabbing a pair of colorful sneakers, I headed out to the place where they set my shoot to be.

The shoot was enjoyable, the photographer and I communicating silently and I myself posing with strange backgrounds. It didn't take much though, because the background made it easier to pose. Next, I had the white room, which wasn't really a room, but what I called a lighted backdrop that made any model seem as if they were floating in white space. The photographer was amateurish, well, by my standards, so I had to pull out all the stops. I chose a cowgirl look; a gentle white blouse and a fringed soft leather jacket with light denim shorts, fringed boots with high laces, and finally a matching hat made the impressive style that even I would have worn at least once every two weeks, not that I ever did that, not with any outfit. I wore lighter blush but darker mascara and a nice peach shade of lip gloss. The hairstylist curled all of my hair this time, which I enjoy having done, but don't do often because of time shortage. I kept a light personality, and in the end, as I was choosing some Polaroids to take home, I admit the photographer wasn't that bad.

So, I was in a good mood when I got home. I saw Kyouya and smiled at him, my makeup off as it was late, but hair still wonderfully curled and down. He smiled back and I, being kind, showered and changed into my nightgown before approaching him. When my hair was dry, I went to his organized and neat workplace and bent over his chair. "Kyouya," I purred, still happy and a bit tired, "Where's my beautiful little puppy?" He, unused to my tone, glanced at me. I kissed his cheek gently and lowered my voice. "Where is it?"

Kyouya sighed. He pressed a button on the phone, the kind you commoners only see in hotels, but really, are all over any of our mansions. How else would we communicate with our staff? The door to our room opened and the maid brought in a basket. I took it from her and thanked her, but she wouldn't talk to me. I looked inside and my puppy was sleeping gently. Only a few weeks had passed since I saw her but the energetic darling looked like an angel. I kissed Kyouya on the cheek again, and then took her to my bed. I lifted her out of the basket and set her on my covers. I named her on the spot, to truly make her mine. "Fashion-chan."

Kyouya looked at my darling and cleared his throat. "Sakura-chan," he began, "If you really want to keep that thing—."

"She's not a thing." I interrupted. He paused, staring at me, but then continued.

"Fine, if you really want to keep your dog in this room, it cannot bother me, understand?" I glared at him, and using my best baby voice, I responded.

"But Kyou-kun, look at her! Fashion-chan is such a darling, how could she bother you? If it's about your work, I don't like it when you do that in here anyway. Couldn't you just take it outside? Please?" He looked at me and growled in what was frankly, quite dog like.

"And one other condition," he added. I looked at him curiously. "We get rid of the other bed." The other bed? I looked around. I saw only two beds, where was the other? Then I realized. My bed was never part of his room, it was only a queen sized and looked like it didn't belong. I tried to object.

"Where is Fashion-chan going to sleep? She can't sleep on the floor!" Kyouya looked at me as if I did not, would not, and would never understand. "I have already made arrangements for that, of course." He pressed another button on our intercommunication phone. Several maids, some swooning over Kyouya and some swooning over my Fashion, brought in cushions and pillows and set them up in a corner, while several men came and took away the bed. When they left, I turned around to face him. "Fine, that's already done. However, I have some rules, too." Kyouya waved his hand away as if it were all fine. I sat on the bed and began. "Rule one, bedtime is at ten. Sharp." He looked at me again in horror. Right now, it was 10:10. Settling myself under the covers, I told him the rest of my rule. "If you aren't in bed by then, you sleep on the couch." Now, by commoners' standards, our couch was by no means uncomfortable. Still, like the Princess and the Pea, any upper-classmen bred the way we were would definitely feel every bygone nail in the frames of it. Our feather down beds would be the only acceptable prospect to sleep upon. "Good night, Kyouya-kun." With that, I went to bed.

The next night, I outlined my second rule. It was eight thirty and I was going to bed. "Rule number two," I began, and this time, Kyouya had the decency to look up. "When I go to bed, you must stop typing on that computer of yours! That means that if you want to continue your work, take it outside, anywhere, somewhere I can't hear it." I smiled. "Good night Kyouya." I ducked under the covers and went to sleep.

At nine fifty five, I woke up. Staring at my digital clock, I waited. Kyouya came in at nine fifty-seven, brushed his teeth for about two minutes and came over at nine fifty-nine. At ten, he had slipped in bed and kissed me on the forehead. I stared at him, but inwardly congratulated him. I went to sleep, leaning next to his body for comfort. When he tried to get up at eleven, I gripped his nightshirt and shook my head. "Not tonight," I whispered, half asleep yet fully aware of what I was doing. He smiled, but with gentlest of smiles and a voice that broke my heart, apologized and left the room.

When he came back, I lay still as I always did as I slept. He kissed my forehead as he slipped into bed, as he always did, but this time something was different. When I felt the touch on my skin, I cried out. "Kaa-chan…" Kyouya noticed, and looked over me. He saw it then, the tears on my face…. I was having a nightmare.

"You… disgrace!" My dream was black, white, and red. I fell to the ground, five years old and bleeding. "Kaa-chan," I cried out, crying at the woman who had, a few days before only hugged me and loved me… or so I thought. I had come into her room that day knowing I had failed my drama audition and wanting comfort. "Don't call me that!" She hit me again, her hand giving me a red mark. I tried looking back beyond her, looking for something that would remind me of her. In her bed, the one where, on a stormy winter night I drank hot cocoa with her and read bedtime stories with her, I saw a strange shadow of a man. He wasn't the right shape, wasn't my father thinner, didn't he wear glasses? Had I remembered wrongly? "Otou-san?" At this, my mother shrieked further and beat me senseless. I knew this, knew what would happen. The next day she'd say I had fallen out a tree face-first and confined me in bed. From then on, I no longer had a "Kaa-chan."

"—akura-chan, Sakura-chan!" I regained consciousness to Kyouya's shaking. In the background I heard Fashion barking, and though it was the middle of the night, the lights were on. I tried to adjust my eyes and realized tears were streaming from my face. This was the first time the suppressed memory came back in years but it gripped my heart as if it were only yesterday the horrible event occurred. I dove under the covers, quivering and crying horribly. The covers opened over my head and as I tried to turn away from the light, a gentle grip pulled me into my fiancée's lap. I cried into his shoulder, covering him with my tears, though I don't think he cared. He stroked my hair and whispered kind words to me. I was exhausted when I finally finished sobbing like a child. He set me down and went to the bathroom to wet his handkerchief. After wiping the salty trail of tears away, he turned off the light and crawled into bed with me. I was a bit scared to go back to sleep, but he pulled me to him and said, "Its okay. You'll be fine, I won't let you go, Sakura-chan." When I calmed down, the words slipped out of me as I was about to fall asleep, "Arigatou, Kyou-kun…"

On Friday, I didn't go to bed at eight thirty like I usually did. Kyouya, who had already looked over to wish me good night and leave, was shocked. "Sakura-chan, do you know what time it is?" I nodded, and went back to my own computer. I was emailing my aunt asking her when my next break day was. We started to Instant Message—I am not a complete idiot at computers, you know—and she said she could free up the next day, except for one engagement I could not miss in the evening. I agreed and shut off my computer, pulling up a chair next to Kyouya's incessant typing. I folded my arms on the desk and put my head in the small nest I had made. Fashion was already asleep, the good dog learning to sleep at the same time I did. I looked at Kyouya, waiting for him to finish, and resolving to stay awake until he did. I don't know when, but I fell asleep waiting.

At nine thirty, strong hands lifted me up from the chair and tucked me into bed, joining me in a minute or two. I hugged Kyouya then, and with a mumble of the past, called out to him. "Kyou-kun…" A kiss on my forehead was felt, and I gripped tightly onto this warm person by me. Though I didn't quite love him, in my heart I might have forgiven him, just a little.

The next morning I woke up at nine, Kyouya still sleeping with his grip relaxed on me, and light streaming in through the windows. I checked my watch and almost screamed. I had wasted so much of the day! "Good Morning," I mumbled to the sleeping figure as I dashed into the bathroom. My face was a mess! I applied some light makeup and changed into a dress, rushing here and there. I grabbed a scarf too, but then groaned as I realized what I wore did not match and went to change. In the end, I wore a baby blue and white sundress with a straw hat and heels. When I came out at ten, Kyouya had just sat up and groggily looked at me. "Why are you dressed up so early?" It most certainly was not early! Going over to his side of the bed, I sat down and smiled, not giving away my secret. He stared, but likewise got up and changed into some day clothes. It was 11:30 and time for some early brunch. Grabbing his hand, I smiled and pulled. He followed.

After a silent but happy (for I was smiling the entire time) brunch in the dining room, I got up and started walking, hearing the footsteps behind me that assured me Kyouya was following. When we got to the car, I gave the driver a slip of paper and he started driving. When we got to the destination, I got out with Kyouya and he understood. Today was a 'Public Appearance' day. For those in the Entertainment business, Public Appearances let commoners feel closer us and boosted popularity levels slightly. I latched onto Kyouya's arm—if one wasn't careful and without an escort, bad things could happen, and this didn't apply to females only. In fact, many girls were already eyeing me with a malicious look. "I want to see that one," I pointed at a movie poster. I had already researched this the day before, and this one seemed the most interesting. It was an animation about two robots who fell in love—even though one was completely archaic and the other one was the high-tech robot epitome of flawless. Kyouya consented and bought two tickets. As we sat down, I had the feeling the audience was watching us more than the movie. I on the other hand, enjoyed it thoroughly. Kyouya probably couldn't have cared less, but as I held on to him the entire time, I don't believe he had a horrible time either.

Next, we headed to a quaint, popular café. I had already made reservations the day before because it was renowned in the commoner's magazine. We got there and, sure enough, within the large crowd, Paparazzi were there. I had planned ahead and ordered an entire ice cream sundae, with my reported 'favorite flavor' vanilla and my real favorite, strawberry, topped with plenty of fruit toppings and fudge. I grabbed two small spoons and gave one to Kyouya, but when he politely refused, I dug a spoonful and hand fed it to him. After pausing, he seemed to relax (though I knew better), and tentatively bit it. He took the other spoon and returned the favor. I smiled at him and used my spoon to take another bite. Later, I dropped that spoon and Kyouya seemed content to feed me the ice cream. He had a cup of coffee to keep me company, and, when I couldn't finish the enormous sundae, Kyouya ate the rest—though it's safe to say he didn't lift a finger himself!

I once heard Haruhi talk about a time when she spent the day with Kyouya. He was a complete annoyance and not at all nice to her, so I hear, but the time I spent with Kyouya was completely different. We talked freely, or as freely as we allowed the press to hear. I enjoyed it thoroughly, but when time came, we went home and the atmosphere changed from light, happy and contented, to tired and not-in-the-mood-to-talk-anymore. Kyouya, as he entered the room, immediately collapsed onto the couch and leaned his head back. I sat with him for a while, but later went to go change. He raised an eyebrow in interest and watched me as I changed into a simple lilac summer dress. "Semi-formal affair I must attend to as of now," I offered only these words as my explanation. When asked if I needed an escort, I declined and told him instead to rest. Fashion started barking though, so I told him to take care of her. How I love my dogs. With a goodbye kiss from Kyouya (that made me blush; its not like I love him or anything though), I went off to meet my aunt, who would be taking me to the destination herself.

When I stepped out of the limousine, I gasped. My aunt had made me change into a formal, dark blue dress with a plunging back, and I wore diamonds on my necklace that coupled the earrings she also made me put on. I had complied, expecting to feel completely out of place at the party or wherever we were going, but as I said, stepping out of the limousine all I could do was gasp. Silhouettes outlined a certain producer's wife in the dusk as the producer himself greeted a certain director and her husband. I never expected to be walking in on a party like this! My aunt, always much friendlier to me than my normal family, squeezed my hand and told me to look graceful. I complied with a gulp, hoping I was adequate enough.

To my surprise, when I walked up to what could only be described as the dream production team for all of Japan's greatest movies (for they only work with each other these days), I was shocked to see and hear them greet me warmly, instead of indifferent, as different groups in the Entertainment business sometimes did. In fact, when that certain director clasped my hands and said how delighted she was to see me, I must confess I near had a panic attack. As we settled into the party (which was located at the top floor of a new, extremely expensive hotel), I was again surprised to see my aunt drag me over to a meeting room that the dream team (spouses aside) had assembled in. When I entered the room, I was still quite confused, but as I sat down, confusion changed to delight, anticipation, but also a twinge of worry that I would not play my role the way it was to be. I had landed my first acting role—in a movie!

Juniper—I don't want to finish it right nowwww –whines- After I get Celeste to beta it, I'll re-upload or something, but for now, I'll just post it :D Don't worry, no more oneshots for me, I'm too lazy to type it all! From now on, I'll update this story in particular. 3, JuniperScaymoore.