That night her bedroom was too stuffy, her pillows were too firm, and her mind churned over and over on the contents in the diary that she had found. Sleep evaded Peach. She rolled onto her other side for the hundredth time, desperately hoping to get some shut eye. Suddenly she remembered a trick that Rosalina had taught her when she was very young and they shared a room together. Peach pulled herself out of bed and ambled into the powder room. She dampened a clean, fresh wash cloth and wrung it out over the sink, getting nearly all of the water out of it. Then she returned to her room and wrapped the cool towel over her neck and chest. Peach silently thanked Rosalina, wherever she was, for the advice that still aided her. Peach shot up in bed, her thoughts striking faster than lightning. The diary! Rosalina! She ripped the covers off of her body and ran out of her room, bolting down the stairs and towards the book that held in its pages the only hope Peach had to find her missing sister.


Mario could not sleep. He had tried everything, from turning on a fan to counting Moo Moos. Nothing seemed to take his mind off of his memories. They danced and flickered beneath his eyelids, so that whenever he closed his eyes he watched them play over and over again. He blinked and surrendered himself to darkness, seeing her lips touch his for the hundredth time. The kiss had happened nearly five months ago, before both his fight with Bowser and his extensive medical procedures. But despite time's faithful dulling this memory remained painfully sharp. He saw the moment again, her lips touching his. But when she pulled away, Mario felt a deep stab of guilt flare hot in his stomach. She pulled away, flipping her gorgeous chestnut hair over her shoulder, and winking at him with a lurid blue eye. Again his conscience hung shameful in his chest, for the first kiss that he had was not with his girlfriend, Princess Peach. It was with Pauline.

Peach had begged him to attend a formal gala with her that evening, and being a good boyfriend Mario had agreed to go. But he hated her fancy socialite parties. They were filled with pompous rich people and conceited royalty who always left him feeling hollow and jealous. Although the Mario family was extremely wealthy due to their monopoly on the plumbing and appliance industry, the people in Peach's social circle sneered at his rank. They viewed his family's holdings as "dirty money," since it was acquired through hard work that didn't have an ounce of glamor to it. Mario had prepared himself for another night of thinly veiled jabs, when to his surprise he recognized Pauline. When Mario was younger his mother would often watch Pauline and her sisters to help out their family. But time and the Mario family's rise to monetary power took their toll on the children's friendship; the last time he saw her was when he was nine years old. As he remembered, she was a bit of a tomboy: she played in the mud with Mario and Luigi, hunted for worms and pill bugs in the backyard, and she was the best stone-skipper that either of the boys had ever seen. But time had changed her- she had grown out of her pigtails and overalls. Instead, Pauline wore a ravishing tight red dress, which accentuated the pair of anatomical arguments proving that she was no longer one of the boys.

She sang at the party that evening, with a sultry voice that perfectly suited the jazz music that resonated throughout the hall. Mario could have listened to that voice for hours. While Pauline took a break, he left his seat next to Peach to try the chocolate crème brulees that were being served for dessert. Aside from indulging his sweet tooth, he was grateful for the rare moment of solitude. He could tell that Peach was upset about something that evening, and her moodiness was ruining the atmosphere. He knew from past experience that trying to reason with her only made her more irritable, so in a measure of self protection he decided to wait out her storm. But when he returned to his seat, she was gone.

Assuming that Peach had left to chat with her friends, Mario continued to enjoy the gala's exquisite food, drink, and music. An hour later, once Pauline's band took their final bow for the evening, he meandered to the back of the room where the performers came off stage so that he could talk with her. His heart was beating fervently in his chest, and his nerves were racing. He felt guided by an almost magnetic force which pulled him closer and closer to Pauline. Besides desiring to catch up with his long-lost friend, Mario also wanted to optimize his girlfriend's absence. Peach was fiercely protective, and became jealous whenever Mario chatted with any other women. But since she was nowhere to be seen, it was as if fate had arranged this encounter for him. Mario watched Pauline gracefully open the back stage door, her eyes immediately finding his. Simultaneously, they advanced towards each other in perfect synchronization. And that was when his trouble began.

They found an empty dining table on the outskirts of the ballroom where their conversation burned deep into the night. She told him about her singing career, and he told her about his daring and heroic adventures. Though he tried to resist her, he could feel himself melting under those hypnotic blue eyes. Pauline's sweet but unplaceable perfume wreathed around him, further drowning him in her spell. And with every word uttered in that rich, intoxicating voice of hers, he grew more and more powerless. In the back of his mind he knew that he was too far gone, but he was too entranced to escape. Finally the clock chimed twelve, momentarily shattering Pauline's enchantment. Mario realized that this was his opportunity to depart without any regrets. He stood up, shook her hand, and bid her farewell. "You'll see me around," she had said coyly. Then she leaned in, bringing her succulent red lips to his. Time faded around them, as Mario's head exploded with color and sound and light while those tantalizing lips touched his. When she pulled away time snapped back into place and all at once his brain was buzzing and heart was stunned. Pauline flipped her shiny chestnut hair over her shoulder and winked coyly at him with her dizzying blue eyes. Then all too soon she was gone, leaving Mario frozen and wide-eyed in her wake.

But the worst part of it all wasn't the guilt, the constant loop of it running in his mind, or the withdraws. The worst part was the next day when Mario kissed Peach for the first time while rescuing her from Bowser. That was the worst, because although his lips touched hers just as Pauline's had touched his, he didn't feel a thing.

A/N: Now we've finally come full circle! Throughout this story I will continue to be writing from Peach, Mario, and Bowser's points of view. Personally I don't really have a favorite perspective among them, ok I have to confess Bowser wins by a teeny bit, but let me know if there is a character that you would like to hear more from! Thank you all so much for the support! I know I say it every time, but it's only because each comment, follow, and favorite means so much to me and are deeply appreciated. Have a stupendous day! Much love, Guardian.