A/N: Oh hey there! Guess who is back with another story! But this time, it's going to be an actual story I am working on with a butt load of chapters and I am hoping they don't excel over thirty, but anyway! This was a fic I thought about writing about a week ago . . . mainly with the whole 'I must write some smut for this ship' thing. And yes, I will write that! But unfortunately, not at this moment, so if ya'll wanna see some smut, you're are going to have to read and wait patiently since this story will have eventual smut.

This story is probably gonna make you laugh, cry, get on the edge of your seat, cry, destroy your puny little feels, cry, then it'll be happy . . . and then you'll cry again. I honestly only know where half of this will be going, so I am working on how the ending will be hah! No spoilers. BUT,, I hope you all enjoy this and a little fyi, this chapter actually made me cry. Please don't ask me how I just- I am just a very emotional person . . .

So just to clear things up, this is a Tomco Fanfiction if no one got it. It's rated T at the moment but it might bump up to M after at least idk, maybe 10 - ? chapters? Because this shit must be taken slow and I must be organized. I don't know when updates will happen but, I should be able to work on at least a couple chapters by next week. Thank you all and go check out my Tumblr! I hope you enjoy and also leave some reviews! You don't have to be logged in to do it either! It's pretty quick, thanks again! - - - (And the cover art was made by 'Elentori-Art' on Tumblr! You should go check her out!)

.:-Dancing with the Devil-:.

Prologue

With one swift movement and a struggling groan, Marco was able to place the last box containing his belongings into the trunk of his car, pushing the bin several inches farther from him before slamming the hood shut. Marco huffed, rubbing the tip of his right elbow and pressed his fingers against the skin of his forearm to soothe all strain, glancing down the quiet street as he did so. After taking his eyes off the dark pavement, he hurriedly made his way through the front yard to his parents' house door. No, it wasn't his home no more, due to the unbearable fact that it was the brunette's time to leave, and his chance to be able to make a living . . . and to make his parents proud.

.:.

Marco Diaz was on his way to college, a place he wished he wouldn't show up to so soon. He was sure that he was just fourteen several months ago, but apparently not, especially when life smacked him right in the face just to prove it to him. The brunette had never felt so strikingly nervous in his life, feeling as if his legs would suddenly fail him and he'd go weak, falling down alone with his anxiety laughing straight at him. This moment of his life was one of his biggest fears, and now, he was going to live that nightmare in reality.

He shook the troubling thought directly out of his head, gripping the doorknob to turn it slowly, opening the door. After silently closing the slab of wood shut, he instantly made a beeline for the staircase and from there he sprinted up the stairs to the corridor, heading towards a certain room. Marco slowed down his pace as he made it through the chiseled doorway, releasing quiet, unsteady breaths before finally entering the empty space.

His footsteps made the floorboards creak under him, carefully taking step by step to different corners of the sunlit bedroom, while his brown eyes glanced over the dried up beige barriers and dusty mahogany overhangs. Marco let his fingers glide over the rough casting of the walls, gently picking at every crevice and tiny crater that was endured for the past several years. He followed the cracked path that had formed on the coarse plaster, leading him towards an old, emptied dresser where he allowed the tips of his fingers and palms of his hands to run along the frame of the smeared mirror that was encased within the amber build. Marco then spun on his heel to face the smudge ridden glass, taking a good and memorable look at his reflection. He pulled his brown hair back when he noticed how much change had overcome him, over the years . . .

The nineteen year-old realized that he had grown taller, five foot eight to be exact . . . but that still didn't seem like a great height to him. Marco still had brown locks that fell over his face, however, his entire head of hair was still cut short the way he had it five years ago. He had developed soft facial features for a man like him and of course, he still had that "beauty mark" on his right cheek, granting his own fingers permission to gently run their tips over the sensitive mark. Marco's chocolate eyes were gliding up and down the mirror's entire frame, taking a look at his own body as well. And even while being covered by clothing, especially his favorite red jacket, he was still able to make out his flat but average body size.

Just as Marco's glance continued to drift over the reflective glass, he finally came up to a slightly wrinkled note that was taped at the edge, his past thoughts streaming through him as he remembered why it was placed there in the very beginning. Marco gently pulled the note off the mirror and brought it right into his view, reading the words written on the front as a sudden, unknown feeling had overwhelmed him.

"Dear Marco,,

You are the most amazing Earth friend I could ever ask for - We went on such wonderful adventures together, fighting off evil or just hanging out in the greatest way possible. I just . . . wish it would've lasted longer you know? Our time together has gone by so quickly and . . . I'm going to really miss you Marco. But my time has come to go back to Mewni, and to make sure my kingdom is safe from harm. You know, gotta do whatever a soon-to-be-queen does, heh. But, really Marco, you've been such a great friend to me . . . taking me in when you knew nothing about me, giving me a room to sleep in with a roof over my head, your awesome nachos too haha! I'm going to miss all of that, you included buddy.

Well . . . this is goodbye Marco. I will never forget about you, or our times together. I wish it didn't have to be like this, but this is reality I guess. I hate it, but . . . there's nothing we can do about it unfortunately. Have fun at college Marco, I really wish you the best! And, hopefully we can see each other again someday! Goodbye you Earth turd, gonna miss you a lot!

- Star Butterfly (A.K.A. Your BFF/and Ever)"

Once he was finished with reading the entire letter, a warm smile appeared on Marco's face, remembering a few adventures that quickly came to mind. However, his content expression didn't last to long, since an expression of total anguish decided to completely take over the warm feeling. Marco allowed his hand to run through his brown locks again, releasing a sigh that had really choked him up inside and the feeling of having to let it go made him feel so uneasy. After his small moment of slight misery, Marco carefully folded the note, sticking the letter into the pocket of his red jacket, before beginning to turn the opposite way he was facing.

It wasn't until Marco suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, after accidentally kicking his foot against a somewhat soft object. His vision went directly for the floorboards beneath him, not taking long for him to notice the back-pack that was hanging out from under the empty chest of drawers. Marco quickly crouched to his knees, gripping one of the shoulder straps that was sticking out in the air and dragged the item from under the small darkened area, placing it on his lap with the zipper facing towards him. Hesitation had lasted for a good five seconds, before Marco slowly unzipped the pack, pulling the now opened fold upwards. And it was at that moment when his past memories struck him all at once, his eyes widening dramatically as his thoughts were being recollected. Inside the pack . . . were items he had thought were completely lost and items he never knew actually existed. The first collective articles he recognized were a photos of him and Star acting like complete dorks with each other back when they were fourteen, young and lively. Even his parents and few of his other friends from Echo Creek were thrown into the mix, intensifying the hysterical dorky-ness. Marco grinned in delight as he shuffled threw a few of the taken photos, before placing the stack back where it was kept safe all those years, zipping the large fold closed tightly.

Marco then pushed himself up to his feet, bringing the back-pack with up with him and hooked one strap onto his shoulder. It wasn't until after that action when Marco stood completely still in his place, his vision setting on current side of the room that was right in his view, facing away from the doorway. The brunette took careful steps back, as he continued to give himself a better view of the room he had lived in for so long and was now going to leave behind. Marco's eyebrows etched upwards, creating an expression of slight sorrow on his features, casting his eyes over any object that was visible to him.

And at the same time he took another slow step back, he heard a loud grieving whine in which echoed throughout the vacant room, making his entire body tense up from how unexpected the sound in fact was. Marco turned his entire body around and once he was facing the doorway completely, he laid his eyes on the figure that stood there, not taking more than a second to realize who the person staring right at him was.

The Mexican male let out shaky breaths as he made complete eye contact . . . with his mother.

Mrs. Diaz stood at the doorway, with her hands clasped over her petite mouth and tears already forming in her eyes, threatening to spill out. Marco sighed quietly after noticing her saddened expression, which shattered his heart into a pile of pieces. He watched helplessly as his mother's own misery was all bundled up in a choked sob, sniffling uncontrollably as her tears streamed down her red cheeks. Sob after sob just made Marco feel useless. Can he really not find a way to comfort his mother? It could have been just because . . . Marco has never seen his mother this upset before, but he couldn't really blame her. He is her only child after all.

The thought of this separation struck him hard, trapping the breaths he wanted to release right in his throat. But it seemed that a new force had completely knocked the air left in his body right out of him, at least . . . that's what it felt like.

Marco's whole body stiffened and his breaths became erratic, as he felt an incredibly tight grip at his torso. And not to long after this sudden action, he finally heard the pained wails coming from the shorter figure that had grasped onto him. The male's eyes fell on his mother, who was sobbing into the fabric of his red jacket with a few coughs thrown out as well, which actually really worried Marco to an extent. "M-mom . .!"

"P-please . . . don't go! I d-don't want my baby to leave . . .!" Mrs. Diaz finally coughed up some words, wiping the droplets from her eyes and cheeks with the back of one of her unoccupied hands. Marco didn't know what to say at that point. He swallowed the lump in his throat before wrapping his own arms around his mother, gently rubbing her back to comfort her. The woman's grip on Marco grew tighter, as she continued to release whatever sob, pained whine, and tears she had left to offer. Of course, it wasn't until after a short while when his mother's unstable sobs began to calm down, along with the tears that did not flood her face anymore. However, she still had her grip on the boy, not daring to let go nor trying to have the idea of doing so.

It was at that moment when Marco knew, he had to be the one separate his mother from him. Not like that was happening already. The thought of having to perform that action stung Marco's heart at first, but he knew things will become much better for him and his family . . . and that it was officially his time to go.

Marco brought his arms to his side, placing the palms of his hands on whatever exposed area of his mother's own arms was accessible to him, and closed his hands. Mrs. Diaz flinched at her son's action, catching her attention completely. She stared into her son's eyes, able to see the pain he felt through them and his utmost apology. Finally getting the message, her face fell in light agony . . . then she released Marco from her tight grasp. Marco kept his grip on her arms, in which later, he held both of her hands in his own. He gave her a small, warming smile, allowing his thumbs to gently press against the skin on her hands.

"It's going to be fine . . . I'll be fine, and you will be too. I'm really going to miss you mom. A-and I'll come and visit if I can but . . . I don't think I'll be able to that anytime this year. The campus is pretty f-far too. . ." Marco said reassuringly, waiting to get a response from his mother. He heard her sniffle a little, hoping she wouldn't start another breakdown, but she didn't. Tears did spill out of her eyes, but she tried as hard as she could to calm keep calm, not wanting to stress Marco out at all.

"W-well . . . please c-come visit as soon as you c-can. And a-also for the holidays t-too . . .!" Mrs. Diaz silently said, a smile soon appearing on her features to overcome the sadness. With this, Marco was able to remove all of his worry, smiling back at her.

"Sure thing mom, and just you wait when I finally get my Phd!" Marco tightened the strap on his shoulder, and put a hand on her back to lead her out of the empty room, with him following behind. He then took one last look at the bedroom, muttering a quiet 'goodbye' before shutting the door closed.

.:.

Once he was out in the hallway, he watched as his mother stepped down the stairs, obviously having the illusion that Marco was right behind her. But Marco didn't follow, but instead he set the entirety of his attention to a door that was at the very end of the hallway. Said door was cracked open, releasing a bright beam of sunlight that was shining down on one of the windows inside. The slab of wood itself was painted baby blue . . . and had the symbol of a star doodled over it. Without any further examination, Marco stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket, before preparing to take steps down the staircase. And all while he ignored the two figures that had appeared down the hallway, expressing fulfilled happiness and their thoughts of adventure . . . only to disappear into thin air minutes later.

Marco opened the door to the driver's seat, placing himself on the padded chair before starting his engine. He removed the strap that was still hooked over his shoulder, placing the entire back-pack on the opposite side. After setting himself in place and getting comfortable, he closed the car door shut, then reached behind his seat to pull out the safety belt. As he buckled himself down, he turned his attention back to his parents, who were standing not too far from him. Marco smiled contently at them, placing his hands on the steering wheel.

Mr. Diaz gave his son a nodding gesture, showing how pleased he was to see how far Marco had gone. Marco noticed his father's gesture, and nodded in return. His father chuckled before waving at the male in the car, his other arm tightly wrapped around his wife. Mrs. Diaz waved goodbye herself, until a thought had come to her mind that she just had to tell Marco.

"Remember Marco, mom will always love her pretty handsome dude!" This remark made her husband roar in laughter, both awaiting their son's reaction. Marco scoffed before another smile formed on his lips.

"Your 'pretty handsome dude' loves you too mom! You too dad!" Marco called out before he switched the gear shift to drive. The brunette took one last look at his family, waving goodbye for the last time. And once he inhaled a deep breath . . . Marco drove off, leaving his home behind. He was able to catch his parents still waving at him on rear view mirror, and with that he allowed his arm to hang out the open window before closing it shut.

.:.

About ten minutes after driving left and right through tricky intersections, Marco had finally exited out of his neighborhood, with the open highway right in his view. He tensed a little, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he tried his best to keep his eyes forward. As Marco exhaled deeply to try and calm himself down, he glanced over at the back-pack he had found earlier, in which was resting on the passenger seat next to the him. Marco's glance however, only lasted no more than one second, since he quickly averted his attention back to the road when the traffic signals switched to green.

He drove slowly up the street, before turning on his signals to exit into the vast highway. Marco didn't seem ready drive up the ramp, and even if he did so with such hesitation, Marco was already driving swiftly on the rough, cracked cement. The male calmed himself down after driving for a few minutes, passing from lane to lane just to make things somewhat quicker.

Marco was headed for Nevada after all . . .