The following does not reflect the views or opinions of Marvel or the author known as 'Kinetically Charmed'.

Entry number three:

I don't ask for much in life. I really don't. I'm happy with what the good Lord has given me, for the most part. I don't complain too much when Logan sets mandatory Danger Room sessions for both Saturday AND Sunday. I don't get too bent out of shape when one of my favorite shows doesn't record on the DVR. I can stand the inconvenience of a long line for the ladies room at a busy club.

All I ask, is that I have music in the car. That's it.

Okay, that's not really it, but as of right now, that's it.

If I have to be stuck in a car for three hours every day, I want to be able to listen to music. Any music. I don't care, put Country music on. That Kenny Brooks guy... or the dude who's on American Idol... I'll even listen to Rogue's crap music.

Unfortunately for me, this is no longer an option.

Our cars stereo system has died.

May it rest in peace.

We made it all the way to school without any sign of impending doom. It wasn't until we got into the car for our journey home, that we made the horrible discovery.

The first twenty minutes without music weren't so bad. We were both pretty preoccupied with city traffic. It was once we got out of the city that we really noticed the silence.

"So, how was your day?" I asked as I skimmed some of my mandatory reading for the night.

"Fine." Rogue shrugged, glancing at me through the corner of her eye, "You know I hate it when you do homework in the car."

She claims that it's not fair, since she has to drive. She's such a suck.

"Well what else am I supposed to do?" I looked up at her and frowned, "Sing? You want me to sing? Because I totally will."

"No. I definitely do not want you to sing."

"Alright, then. Tell me about your day." I closed my book and tossed it in the back seat.

We've been spending a lot of time together. It's not like we don't enjoy talking to one another anymore, it's just that sometimes, we run out of things to say. Like an old married couple.

So Rogue sighed as she checked her rear-view mirror, "Same as every other day."

"Still haven't had any bites with your hot ass jeans?"

She snorted, "They're all just intimidated. Would you talk to me with this ass if you were a guy?"

I raised an eyebrow and turned to her, "Do we have a little bit of a leather pants complex starting here?"

She pressed her lips into a smile, "I don't think I could ever measure up to your amount of crazy."

I rolled my eyes, but didn't say anything. Because she's probably right.

"I mean, it makes sense." She nodded to herself, "It's your personality type."

I scrunched up my nose and frowned at her, "Huh?"

"We've been studying personality types in psych class. You know, Jung, Briggs Myers, the four temperaments..." She began to explain as if I should know what she was talking about, "We haven't gotten very far yet. Mostly focusing on the four humours. My Professor actually used the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles to explain each temperament to us. You know, Leonardo leads- which is melancholic; Donatello does machines -phlegmatic; Raphael is cool, but crude -choleric; Michelangelo is a party dude -sanguine."

"I don't know the Ninja Turtles by name." I said flatly, a little amused by the fact that for once, Rogue was more nerdy than me.

She let out a sigh, "Raphael is red, Leonardo is blue, Donatello is purple, and Michelangelo is orange. Better?"

"Sure." I rolled my eyes, "Do you have a point?"

"Yes." Rogue said with a very audible edge, "My Professor explained to us that a lot of the time, these four different personalities are attracted to one another. He used the Ninja Turtles as his example, but you can basically spot the pattern in any group of four."

"Like Sex and the City?" I pursed my lips and thought for a moment, "Carrie would be blue, Charlotte would be purple, Miranda is totally red and Sam is orange."

"Yeah sure." Rogue muttered. She's never seen an episode in her life, so her disinterest is understandable. "Which one is the horse faced chick?"

I chose to ignore her stupid question. This is generally the safest response.

"Or the Backstreet Boys, New Direction, The Spice Girls!" I was having way too much fun, I'll admit this. "Ooooh! Archie! Archie is the blue leader, Betty is the purple smart one, Veronica is the red hot head and orange Jughead just wants to party with some burgers..."

Rogue cut her eyes to me with a smirk, "I don't want to know about your thoughts on Jughead."

"Oh shut up. It's not dirty, I just think he's under appreciated." I let out a breath and shook my head, "Okay, so what is your point? My personality is obviously purple smarty pants. Donatello? I'm totally Donatello."

"Actually, my point is, that within this realm of thinking, you would be the crazy leather pants party guy."

I let out a very unamused laugh, "As if! I'm not like that all the time. I'm the sensible smart guy. Everyone knows that. If anything, Remy would be the party dude."

"Remy isn't... Loud enough to be Michelangelo."

"Oh, so now I'm loud?"

Rogue frowned, "You know what I mean. You're more... Excitable. Everything is always dialed up to 11 with you."

"That is not true."

"Remember Jean's baby shower? When you got up on stage and tried your hand at stripping?" She smirked.

I crossed my arms and pouted, "Well if I'm not the smart one, then who is? You? Ha!"

Rogue glanced at me through the corner of her eye. "Pete would be. Donatello is artistic, calm, rational. You are none of those."

I narrowed my eyes at her, even though she's right. About me not being artistic, calm and rational. Because I'm obviously still the smart one.

"Oh yeah. And who exactly would you be?"

"I am Leonardo, the leader." She informed me with a nod, "And Remy would be Raphael, the hot head."

"Oh puh-lease." I rolled my eyes, "You are not the leader. Maybe in your head you're the leader, but in reality... the world does not revolve around you. And Remy has half the temper you have."

"That's bull shit. You know Remy has a temper."

"Yes, but not like you. You threw a plate at him." I emphasized those last three words because I really feel like they hammer my point home. "You are totally the hot head."

"I hate to break it to you, but Pete could be the hot head too you know." Rogue shot another glance my way and I gave her a look of derision. "Don't look at me like that, it's true."

"You're grasping at straws here Rogue."

"You seem to forget that Pete used to be a super villain. The potential is there." She remarked, keeping her eyes fixed on the road, "And he has a temper, Kit. We've all seen it."

I've never really discussed this, and it's not exactly common knowledge because he's learned a lot of self control, but yes. Pete had a temper. Had. Working under Magneto will do that to you. Unless you're beguiled by him, then of course, I'm sure you'd enjoy working under Magneto. Wouldn't you, Rogue.

That's right, I said it.

"He's not like that anymore."

"Only because you've domesticated him." Rogue continued pushing my buttons, "You've watered him down to this wishy washy version of what he once was. When he first moved in, his artwork was always really edgy and progressive. Now, he might as well be painting portraits of crying clowns, and beach scenery."

I snorted, "Yeah, because your opinion on art is the one everyone listens to."

"I happen to know a thing or two about art Kitty, and I also know that Pete probably would agree with me. He's just not inspired like he used to be."

"You know jack shit about art, Rogue. You took Pottery 101 during shopping week and that's basically the extent of your depth of knowledge."

"That's not true. I enjoy those quirky Indie movies that you find so lame. That's a form of art too."

"Stupid art." I muttered, looking out the window, "And just so you know, going from being an introverted bad guy to being a sensitive nice guy is a good thing. Not all of us are attracted to egotistical, self destructive dicks, Rogue." I snapped hook my head, "The only reason you think Pete's domesticated is because he's not a giant ass. That's your bread and butter. Remy? Magneto-"

"Woah, that does not count." She frowned and turned to look at me, "Magneto!?"

"Oh, I'm sorry.~*~Joseph~*~." I said his name and batted my eyelashes for effect. Sure, she may not have known he was Magneto at the time, but we all know she totally had the hots for him. Don't even. And finding out that he was an egotistical ass hole afterwards, likely just made that flame burn a little bit brighter.

I know Rogue, guys. The lady doth protest too much, methinks.

"Oh! That's right! You two shared a love for art, didn't you?" I smiled wryly "The only difference is, he's actually old enough to have known Picasso in person."

"You promised me you wouldn't bring him up anymore." She ground out through gritted teeth. "Promised!"

"Yeah well, I lied." I shrugged. It's pretty hard not to bring it up to be honest. I mean, come on. "Besides, it just helps to make my point. You are naturally drawn to the asshole type. Is there a Ninja Turtle for that? Because that's who you'd be."

"Ass hole type?!" Rogue uttered an unattractive snort, "All men are ass holes, Kitty. I hate to break it to your naive little heart, but Pete's a man. He's no exception to this. You just seem to want to see him like he's some sort of Disney Prince or something. You've made him boring."

"Take that back."

"No!" Rogue refused with a single laugh, "It's the truth! You've drained his inspiration! You have killed his mojo."

"I have not killed his mojo. His mojo is just fine."

"Admit it Kitty, he's a nice guy and all but you've made him a drag. Yawn."

She might possibly have hit a nerve. It's not that I think she's right or anything, I just don't entirely think she's wrong. I don't fit into Pete's artistic world. Which is okay, I guess...

"Why do you think he spends so much time at this art studio?" Rogue continued.

"Shut up."

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed, Kit."

"If you're trying to get on my nerves Rogue, you've succeeded. Now shut the hell up."

"I'm just saying-"

"I don't want to hear it." I snapped as I fumbled with my seat belt, "I'm done listening to you."

"What are you doing?!" She eyed me as I tried to free myself from the seat belt prison. I mean yeah, I could have just phased through it, but where's the flare in that?

"I'm getting into the back seat!" I declared, "I can't even stand to be in the same car segment as you right now, Rogue. I'd rather sit in the back alone."

"Oh my God Kitty, you're so dramatic." She sighed and shook her head.

"I am not dramatic. You're just a jerk. You get a serious kick out of pissing me off." I continued to fiddle around with the seat belt as I barked at her, "Especially when it comes to my so-called boring relationship. Sounds to me like you're just jealous that I at least have a relationship."

"That is just stupid, why would I be jealous of you?" She laughed, "Of all people?!"

I let out a huff and frowned. "You are the worst best friend ever!"

Rogue knit her brow, "What is your-"

"I'm not a stupid hamster, Rogue." I clipped, still fumbling with my seat belt. Yeah. I remember that part of her blog. I know how she sees me. "That's all I am to you! You're only my friend when you feel like it. All the other times you're just a bitch with a shit attitude, and we're all supposed to think that it's endearing." I let out a frustrated grunt, "What is wrong with this effing seat belt!?"

"Are you kidding me right now?" She chuckled, "Do you know how much of your crap I put up with, Pryde? Your lovable ditz routine gets old real fast. If it's at all possible, I think you're literally driving me insane. One crazy bitch episode at a time." She glanced at me struggling with my seat belt and let out a breath, "You have to push the button all the way down."

"I know how to do it!" I bit out, even though I clearly did not. "And by the way, it's not exactly like you're incredibly tolerable all the time. Like, I'm super happy that you finally figured out how to use Pinterest, but if you keep sending me pictures of that stupid angry cat I'm going smash your face through the computer screen."

"Grumpy cat." Rogue frowned.

"Whatever." I finally got the stupid seat belt undone, twisting around in my seat and climbing my way into the back of the car.

"You're just going to sit back there now?" She asked, looking at me through the rear view mirror, "Like a pouting little brat?"

"Yep." I grabbed my book and went back to reading my homework, which I knew would totally just piss her off.

When we got back home, we both clomped inside without a word to one another. I went up to our room, and she went straight to the kitchen.

If she's not careful, she won't fit into those hot ass jeans for very long.

Burn.

After I finished up my work for the night, I made my way down to the garage where I was sure Pete would be, working on the stupid stereo system for Rogue. He looked up at me from the drivers seat where he was busy unscrewing the dash or something, and gave me a smile.

"I heard you had an interesting trip home today."

"Ugh." I rolled my eyes, heading across the garage to the car, "Interesting. What did she tell you?"

"She told me you were being dramatic."

I frowned and leaned against the side of the car next to where Pete was working. "Yeah well, she's a jerk."

Pete smiled. He was totally agreeing with me. Or maybe he was agreeing with both of us, don't burst my bubble okay?

"What happened?" He went back to fiddling with the stereo.

I shrugged and shook my head, "Just Rogue being Rogue." I didn't exactly want to tell him that she thinks he's boring and that his art is crap, so I decided to summarize, "She thinks we're boring. Do you think we're boring?"

He looked back up at me and furrowed his brow, "She is not exactly the life of the party herself."

I scoffed and shook my head. "I know right?!" I pursed my lips and stuffed my hands into my pockets, "But seriously, are we?"

He sat back in the seat and let out a breath, "I don't know."

"We do watch a lot of Project Runway..." I bit my lip.

"We are just set in our ways." Pete countered, taking my hand and pulling me onto his lap. "We are comfortable."

My brow pinched and I looked down, "I guess."

"We can think of new things to do." He rubbed my back, "I could take you to the studio downtown. You have not seen any of my work there yet."

I turned to him with a smile and slipped my arms around his neck, "I would like that."

He smoothed his hands up and down my sides slowly and the corner of his mouth tugged up slightly, "Not everything we do is boring."

I pressed my lips into a small smile, "I guess our scrapbook nights are pretty fun..."

That was a joke guys. We only had one scrapbook night. And I realized how much I hate scrapbooking.

We were having an awfully nice time canoodling in the front seat of that car when Illyana pushed the door open with a text book under her arm.

"Piotr, I am - Ugh!" She recoiled and covered her eyes when she realized that Pete was not alone.

Seriously, you'd think she just walked in on us in the shower or something with the way she reacted. It's been a year Illyana. You should be used to it by now.

Anyways, I pulled away from Pete and rolled my eyes as I climbed out of the car.

"What did you want Illyana?" He asked, climbing out of the car after me.

She peeked out from between her fingers to make sure it was safe to look before dropping her hand and furrowing her brow, "I thought you were in here working."

"I am working Illyana." Pete let out a breath, "I was just taking a break."

She squared her jaw and huffed, "You told me you would help me with Algebra."

"I will. When I am finished fixing the stereo in Rogue's car."

"I will wait here then." She turned her eyes to me and raised an eyebrow, "Goodbye Kitty."

I turned my eyes skyward and said a silent prayer for strength before making my exit.

Seriously. Which one of the Ninja Turtles is an incredibly obnoxious little brat? Because that's the one Illyana is.

It's Michelangelo, isn't it.

I'm totally not Michelangelo guys, Rogue is so full of crap.

I'm not.