Disclaimer: Not mine ~Sniff~ Don't sue. The only thing I have are my cats, and the one bites. You don't' want it.

Warning: Matt is not a happy person.

Chapter Two:

She held the manuscript tight in her hand, looking up at the famous writer, hoping to god he would be kinder then his frigid eyes. Mimi pushed the Et Mocha into his hand, smiling brightly. "HI!!" Her greeting alarmed the residence of the small café.

He responded with nonchalant air, unfolding his legs with obvious masculinity consuming her. After taking a good-sized swallow of the brown drink, he spoke. "So, Miss. Perky, lets see it."

Hurt echoed in the depths of her brown eyes, but she refused to let it show. "Here! I hope you like it, it's about childhood friends who have remained pen pals for many years, they end up needing to meet because his uncle died and had left part of the business franchise to the two of them, because he based an anime off of her, and they secretly love each other, and he's been sending her emails w-" He cut her off, placing a leather gloved hand over her mouth.

"You talk too much. The title sucks." The girl was oblivious to his put down, and continued to babble into his hand. While keeping her mouth firmly encompassed, he continued to look over the script. "Your grammar is horrible, your characterization is poor," Tears threatened to fall, teeth threatened to bite, but he continued. "This is the best piece of table scrap I've seen. Meet with me tomorrow? I'm free at one."

Eyes glittered. Teeth sparkled. A shoju bubble slowly floated across the screen. A Matt popped it. "Yes! I'm free anytime! Uh huh!" Mimi bounced in her chair excitedly, attracting the attention of the other café-goers. The manager cast them a wary look at the girl's high pitched excitement. Smiling dreamily to herself, she decided Psychology could be missed.

"Can I keep this copy?"

"Sure, yes, go ahead." She babbled.

"See you later." He grinned.

"Okay." Her eyes sparkled.

"This Mocha is really good."

She beamed. "Glad you like it."

"Thanks." A silence ensued. "How long have you been writing?"

Mimi blinked slowly, wondering why he wasn't abandoning her. "Since I could hold a pencil."

He smiled, a real smile. She decided she liked this expression on him. What she wouldn't give to know what he was thinking! "You're a different one, Mimi Tachikawa… you're presents will lighten my day." Abruptly he stood, walking away, leaving his Et Mocha. If Mimi was the ivy growing up the building's side, she would have seen his blush.

Too short! She had wanted to talk to him longer. Slowly she sipped her drink, watching as his golden hair disappeared among the crowd, scowling at everyone in view. A waiter came to ask her opinion of the place, she responded politely with a smile.

~~~

He really hadn't meant to be harsh to her. She was a child with pain-filled eyes and words, a fly who he wanted to rip the wings off, a delicate sylph-infant. Mimi… the name was engraved upon his soul and mind, wrapped into his subconscious, not wishing to leave. Bicycles blew past him causing nuance to his ears and a danger to his pants. His hair was gelled to perfection, his clothes immaculate. A perfectionist in hiding, Matt wanted to always look perfect. Appearances say a hundred words, but he also knew best that appearances are deceiving. Wet, sloppy mud splashed upon him, a grimace consumed his face, he was not having a good day. Finally, he reached the sanctuary of his apartment. At twenty-one, he was very well off. His novels had sold with an alarming rate, surprising even the publishers. He was an angsty man.

It had begun with his mother leaving his father, his world was rocked. It seemed like nothing would be the same again, he loved his family being together. Everything seemed right in the world, everything okay, and good. He missed his brother, he missed his mother, and his father was rarely ever there for him. He missed them all dearly, it seemed like he had not a friend in the world. Matt slipped into a world of depression and lies. He begun to write stories dealing with death, monsters, and loneliness. His father cared about him deeply, and sent him quickly to a psychiatrist. He ended up twisting the psychiatrist, bending the poor man to his every whim. When he was done, the man believed that T.K was the root of all evil. Matt hadn't wanted help. His grades slipped, his writings lengthened. Before long, he had published his first book. He was sixteen when he did it, a week before his seventeenth birthday.

Although his father cared, he was still incredibly alone. All of his family was into material possessions, all he wanted was a sign of emotion. He became as cold and heartless as the rest of his family, except for little Kari. T.K's best friend became his little girlfriend, a challenge to manipulate, but for quite a while he succeeded. His little brother was heart-broken and freaked out, but he wouldn't say anything to stop his fair-haired sibling. Kari became the focus in his next book, this sold equally well. He dumped her soon after the book was published. He was beat up, but didn't care. He smirked in triumph as the tears rolled slowly down the girl's sweet face.(Don't hate me! There's a reason why he's acting like this!) The chair adjusted to his wait as he sunk into it, beginning to read the manuscript.

Can I make her fall as Kari did? He wondered to himself, humming softly as he read.