A/N: Hey all! Well during a maths test today, this story sort of came to me. Yeah, a test, but my mind tends to wander... I still think I did ok! Anyways, I finished up quickly on the test and started planning in my head. Hope you guys like this!

1. Of finger foods and finer things

"Soul...? Soul! SOUL!" Wes yelled loudly, trying to get his brother's attention with little success. Soul was once again in his own little world. In fact, he seemed to spend the majority of their parent's parties in a daze, his own little world, leading a few of the guests to believe Soul was on drugs. Sighing, he poked his brother's arm hard.

"What!? Why'd you poke me!?" Soul started, rubbing his arm irritably. His loud protest had caught the attention of a few people around him, but he couldn't find the energy to care enough.

His mother rolled her eyes. "Your brother has been trying to get your attention for five minutes now. I know you hate these kind of things, but can you at least try to make an effort?" His mother's voice was stained, tired, reminding Soul of how much effort she'd put into this gathering of rich snobs and felt guilty for acting like a jerk, even if it was boring.

"What did you want, Wes?" He asked his brother, sighing and pulling at the cuffs of his suit. This was his favourite suit, black with pinstripes, which he wore with a blood red shirt and a black tie. Despite it being his favourite suit though, he still felt like a trophy on display and thought longingly of his jeans. He focused his lazy, blood red eyes on his brother, putting in the effort like his mother had asked.

"I just wanted to know if you tried the cheesecake. It tastes divine." Wes stated, almost robotically. At these parties and such, he always tried to be formal and polite, something Soul lacked the ability of. Wes looked like an older Soul, with the same stark white, out-of-control hair (though he put more effort into taming it) and blood-red eyes. He lacked Soul's sharp teeth though and - Soul liked to think - his sense of style. Wes' suit was a boring slate grey with a black tie and plain white shirt. He looked a little bit like an undertaker in Soul's eyes.

Soul made no attempt to act polite or speak formally. "No way. I'm so tired of finger foods. Right after this, I'm going to the nearest fast food resturant and ordering half the menu."

Wes snickered, losing his calm, cool facade for a minute and leaned down to mutter in Soul's ear. "While your there, pick me up something large and greasy. If I eat anymore caviar, I'll cut out my taste buds." He slipped a couple of notes into Soul's hand and Soul had to grin.

"Boys?" Both boys looked at their mother, trying to keep the guilty look off their faces. She already sounded suspicious. "Are you just going to stand there? We have guests."

Soul wondered how anyone wouldn't figure that out. The ballroom of their house was filled with people, all clad in fine silks and expensive suits, all probably some famous designer brand, worn specially for the occasion. A low hum of talking buzzed around the room, just heard over the jazz tune Soul's father particularly enjoyed that was playing. Along the side of the room was a long table set up with small bite-sized morsels that were guaranteed to be expensive and unfulfilling. In the middle of the room, a few couples were dancing and small laughs sounded everywhere. The social gathering of the year, people would say after they left. The nightmare he'd suffered through, Soul would snort to his brother when they'd finally escaped their suffocating clothes. At least Wes was good at handling it all, an expert socialite. Soul, not so much.

"I'm sorry, mother. I'll go greet the new guests." Wes apologised, hurrying away to the door with a small smile.

Soul's mother stepped closer to him, with a kind smile. Despite Soul being the awkward son that didn't quite fit in with their lifestyle, his parents had always done well by him and loved him like they should. "Stick around for one more hour and then you can say your goodbyes. I promise."

He smiled at the thought. "How come granny gets out of all this?"

His mother surpressed a grin. "Your grandmother is an elderly lady who isn't up for such things anymore, if anyone asks."

Soul smirked. That was code for 'Granny's independant and not into the rich lifestyle, therefore she skipped the whole thing'. Soul loved his crazy granny, his mother's mother, a woman who did what she wanted. When her daughter married into the rich Evans family and she'd had to move in with the family, she'd sworn she wouldn't be swept into any of this 'rich rubbish' and would stay the same as ever. She'd easily kept to it and influenced Soul with her wild antics.

"Anyway," His mother continued. "Your friend, Kid should be here soon."

Soul nodded. Kid was as rich as them and one of Soul's few actual friends. He made these social events a little more bearable, until he could get out of them.

"There is the usual people coming and I expect you to try and be polite, please. Oh and there is the representative from the charity me and your father donated money to." His mother finished. Soul recalled lazily his parent's habit of choosing a charity to donate a substantial amount of money to each year, to apparently 'give back'. This year, he remembered, they'd donated to some special home for children. It was a cross between a children's home for orphans and stuff and a place for struggling families to leave their children for the day to do some normal children stuff while their parents coped.

"Which one is he?" Soul asked, scanning the room for the usual suspect. The charity representatives were always some large, middle-aged man with a sort of half-frown.

"She. It is a girl about your age. She is rather young for this sort of thing, I thought, but she's a very dedicated young woman from what I have seen. I would love it if you'd take the time to greet her. She is just over there, by the food table." His mother nodded toward the table not far off, where a young woman stood.

He wondered how he hadn't noticed her earlier. She stuck out a little, being around his age, eighteen, when most of the people around here were his parents age. Her dress, a pretty green, ankle-length dress that showed off her slender figure, showed signs of alteration and was easily identified as a non-designer piece. Her ashy blonde hair was pulled back into a messy bun, that showed off her elegant throat and shoulders. She was small and thin, though he could see signs of muscle. Her eyes, a green the same colour as her dress, were focused on the foods on the table with a look of confusion. Soul smirked at the idea that she was looking for the usual snack table things, such as cubed cheese and cocktail sausages, instead of the fancy profiteroles and other foods. He watched as she cautiously picked up a profiterole and took a small, careful bite, her eyebrows creasing in thought. He surpressed a chuckle at her expression as she took another, happier bite.

"Fine, I'll mingle." He consented, causing his mother to smile slightly at her willful son as he sauntered away from her.

XXX

Maka Albarn looked at the food in front of her in total confusion. The kind of parties she'd been invited to, the food on offer was things like a bowl of crisps which no one could tell you the flavour of without testing and maybe some food that had been shoved in the microwave before you'd arrived. Not that she was some uncivilised moron with no idea of fancy food, just her idea of expensive was a steak as a special treat. Maka had already indentified caviar on the table and instantly realized she'd have little to eat tonight. She promptly decided to drop by her friend Tsubaki's house at ten like Tsubaki had asked her too.

She picked up a profiterole and gave it a tentive bite. Happy she'd at least gotten some chocolate out of this thing, she ate the rest of it in one bite. She then pulled open her bag. Every woman here had some tiny clutch bag, designed to hold very little and Maka felt like an idiot with her small leather shoulder bag. She quickly pulled out her phone to check the time and it slipped out of her grip, skidding under the table. Sighing, she got down on her hands and knees, pulling up the tablecloth and going under the table slightly to retrieve her phone.

"Would the owner of this ass please come out from under the table?" A husky, male voice said in a voice filled with amusement and Maka jumped, hitting her table on the table. Cursing under her breath, she snatched up her phone and scrambled out from underneath the table, her cheeks red in embarrassment.

The voice belonged to a tall white haired male, about her age. His white hair was messy, like he'd ran his hands through it and he had these intense red eyes that he fixed on her. She could see taned skin where his pinstriped suit didn't cover. When he grinned at her, she saw the points of sharp teeth. She recognized the features, knowing he was an Evans. He had the same white hair and red eyes as his father and older brother, both of whom she'd briefly met. The brother had greeted her when she'd arrived and the father had thanked her for coming about ten minutes ago.

She reminded herself to be completely polite. The Evans were the ones throwing this extravagant party, the ones who'd invited a representative of Death City Children's Home, the ones who'd donated a large amount of cash to them. That cash was what she'd been waiting for. She'd started fund-raising a year ago, when she'd realized the home was only running on official funds and appointed herself in charge of fund-raising, with the happy approval of the owner of the home. It'd been going ok, but this donation had made a big difference. They'd already started putting it to use, ever since they'd been given the nice big check a week ago.

"Erm... hello." Maka said in a polite tone, though she inwardly berated herself for sounding ridiculous. Bah, social shindigs just wasn't her thing. If everyone at the home hadn't insisted she come as the representative because she was in charge of funds, she would have sent someone else to go.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Soul Evans. And you are...?" His voice was deep and husky, but was slightly posh. At least it wasn't as uptight as his father's voice. That guy made her feel like a troublesome child being told off by a school headmaster, even though he'd welcomed her politely enough.

"Nobody important." She brushed off, thinking he'd assumed her to be someone he was required to mingle with.

"Not from what I hear. I was told your from the charity my parents donated to?" He inquired.

"Yes, I am. I'm in charge of fund-raising in Death City Children's Home." She replied, her hands clutching the sides of her dress in anxiety.

"Aren't you a little young for such a big role?" Soul Evans asked curiously.

She flushed red slightly, irriated by the observation. She'd heard it a lot. Yes, she was only eighteen and maybe young for such a big role, but she was capable and she'd handled it like a pro for a year now. Everyone in the home was rooting for her to do well with the fund-raising and backing her ahundred percent. "Maybe I am, but I work hard at what I do and it shows."

Her tone had gone slightly cold at the last part, but she kept the polite expression on her face, like a mask she ached to take off. Soul Evans seemed to be unruffled though. "Is it difficult?"

"Not as long as the community chips in and helps." She answered, slightly surprised at the fact he was still talking to her. His family had only spoke to her for a minute or two.

His eyes were too intense, she decided. They made her feel unnerved. He went to speak, but there was sound coming from the stage. Maka looked over to see the woman she recognised as Soul Evans' mother, smiling at everyone from where she stood in front of the microphone. "Hello everyone. I'd just like to take the time to thank all of you for coming. It's been a pleasure having you all in our home. Now, if you all wouldn't mind, my son, Wes, would like to play a piece for you on his violin."

Maka remembered the Evans family had gotten their riches from musical talent which apparently ran in the family. She watched with interest as the older Evans boy made his way on stage with a violin and bow in his hands. He gave a good-natured smile to the audience and spoke modestly into the microphone. "This is something I composed myself and I hope you all enjoy it."

She watched as he put the violin into place and gently pulled the bow across the strings, wringing out a beautiful melody.

XXX

Soul loved his brother a lot, though when Wes played that first note and looks of awe spread across the faces of almost everyone's faces, Soul felt that familiar stab of envy piece him.

Wes had always been the older brother, the one meant to inherit their parent's fortune and talents. Soul shouldn't really have been surprised by his own lack of fitting in with his parent's life, but he was still wistful. Wes' violin playing was something everyone admired and praised, while Soul's piano playing was decent, but not up to the standards of an Evans. Not even close. His social skills lacked and he simply didn't act like what was expected of him

He glanced at the girl next to him, expecting a similar look of awe on her face. Instead, she was observing him play with a light interest, but she didn't wear that look of worship the others seemed to.

Wes came to the end of his piece and everyone clapped loudly. He gave them a modest smile, thanked them and left to stage to go to his mother, who was waiting by the side for him. Soul turned to the girl. "What'd you think?"

She blinked, as if surprised he was asking her opinion. "It was nice."

Soul liked this girl. Nice? Clearly, she wasn't that into music, since everyone else was singing praises in the room. He went to speak, but suddenly Kid was by his side.

"Hello Soul." Kid greeted, then turned his gold eyes onto the girl. "Ahh, Miss Albarn, I was told you would be here. I'm Death the Kid, Lord Death's son. I believe your father works for my father, correct?"

The girl, Miss Albarn, nodded. "Yes, he does. Nice to meet you." She held out her hand to him and he politely shook it.

The girl looked at her phone, noticing it after she'd clutched it through the entire conversation with Soul. She blinked at the screen. "Ahh, I have to go, I'm afraid. Thank you so much for having me here. And nice to meet you, Death the Kid. It's been a pleasure."

She gave them a small smile and quickly turned and headed for his father. He watched as she said something brief to his father and his father bid her goodbye, then watched as she fled the room without a backwards glance.

She hadn't even told him her first name.

A/N: I'm actually really happy with this, so yay! But of course, it's not just about my thoughts, so I'd love to hear from you guys.

Review or I'll throw finger foods at you!
Caviar is gross when thrown at you and profiteroles are messy.
Fear the finger foods.

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