Chapter 4: Old Friends and New Lyrics

What? I wasn't joking when I said it would be more twisted than the last.

Also, to set the record straight, these are the people INSIDE the school who DON'T hate Bubblegum:

Finn

Jake

Flame Princess

Marceline

Breakfast Princess

Toast Princess

Marshal Lee

And of course, the teachers don't hate her either. But why Breakfast P. and Toast P.? Because they are less girly than the other princesses, and since they are more friends with FP than LSP, they believe Flame, or Fiore, more. And they're in her sophomore class.

Also, do I hear a kudos for giving Flame Princess a name? *cricket chirps*

I guess not. -. - But yes, in my stories, Flame Princess's full name is Fiorella Flame of the Fire Kingdom.

And, if, just IF I ever make a fic with Flame PRINCE, his name will be Elton Flame. Because, well, Elton John is British, and I imagine Flame Prince to have a British accent.

As Princess Bubblegum sat glumly at her regular seat instead of the back, twenty minutes before school, she sighed and switched back to yesterday's seat, at the back corner of the classroom. Then she set her book bag on the floor, and sat quietly on her desk.

Then, a pale hand knocked at the door.

"Knocker, knocker, forever alone," Marceline said chuckling.

Then the vampire girl entered the classroom, floated to the seat left of Bubblegum's, set her backpack there, and floated in front of the princess.

"What do you think of my outfit?" Marceline asked. She wore a loose-fitting, half-zipped, bright red hoodie, a black tank top, black short daisy dukes, fish net tights, and her signature red boots. The only surprise was that Marceline's hair was held together with a red hairband with a single black stripe.

Bubblegum smiled. "Looks good. Umm…" she looked around confused, "Isn't your brother supposed to come to school with you?"

Marceline snickered. "Pffft…No. I have my own car, unlike my freeloading, lazy brother, who has 1000+ years of no car. Pretty lame to be waiting for dad, so I just drive here in my car whenever I please."

After a few minutes, Marceline snapped her fingers in recall.

"Oh right!" the vampire queen exclaimed. "Hey Bonni~ ~you have a visitor at the hall~~" Marceline's voice came out in a sing-songy tune.

"Who?" And then Marceline somehow managed to drag the candy princess by her wrist to the main entrance. In a small ten-foot distance, Princess Bubblegum gasped.

There, sitting on a bench expectantly, was a familiar being. He had short pink hair, pink skin, a baby blue t-shirt, and skinny jeans; looking no more than eighteen.

"Gummy?" Bubblegum said. Then, looking up at her, the prince stood up and smiled.

Excited, Bubblegum ran up to him and hugged him tight. Prince Gumball, returned the hug, and rested his arms along her waist. She buried her head in his chest as thin tears of happiness trailed down her face. Of all the people, she was never happier to see him.

Then she looked up at him and pecked his cheek.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"What? Should I leave?" he joked.

"No!" she laughed, "I mean, like, why are you here? Why the sudden visit? Not because I want you to go…because I don't. I needed you…"

Prince Gumball smiled. "That's enough reason for me."

As Marceline savored the sweet sight in front of her, she leaned against a faraway wall of lockers. But then she caught from the corner of her eye something not so pleasant.

Her brother, standing in a dark spot of the hallway, farther so no one could see him, staring nostalgically at the two.

Marceline shook her head. Balancing herself off the wall, she began to walk away.

'This certainly was not in the plans,' she thought, 'that my brother would get jealous.'

She stopped at her locker and began to unlock the door and open it. 'And it shouldn't be in the plans,' she thought to herself as she took out some books. 'Because I don't want to be the one who has to pry him off the candy prince if there's a beating. Then again…'

She slammed her locker shut. 'I'll do anything to get those two separated. Well, almost.'

Then she floated towards her classroom, her long ebony hair trailing behind.

"Why are we in the library, again?" Finn asked. I face palmed.

"To discuss the song I'm writing for Bonnibel? Anyone remembers that we have to get her to stop thinking about my brother?" I growled.

Jake let out a long and prolonged 'oh.' "Ohhhhhh….right. What's wrong with the song? We recorded and everything, doesn't she like it?"

I shook my head, my black hair whipping my face. "No, she doesn't. She's too prissy to be able to sing such a heavy song. Or so she says."

"But it's POP-rock!" Flame Princess exclaimed. "That's like the calmest rock there is…right?"

I face palmed again. I, Marceline Kenji Abadeer, have never met such dense people before.

"Yeah, well, that's not what she says," I replied. "So maybe we could come up with another?"

Jake raised his hand.

"Just say it, dog. We're not in class now," I hissed.

The dog cleared his throat. "Well, given that it's half past lunchtime, and that you don't let us eat right now….can we continue this later?" he whined.

I dropped my head. These people are HOPELESS.

"How does the title 'Unfaithful' sound?" Flame Princess asked.

My face lightened up. "That's like…the smartest thing I've heard all day!" I exclaimed. "Thanks Fiore! What's your idea?"
She took out two pieces of sheet music, and two sheets of crumpled up and folded paper from her backpack.

"I wrote this song a LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNGGG time ago. Well, my music teacher helped me compose it, she wrote it down on fire-retardant paper. These are the notes, and the lyrics," she said pointing to both set of papers on the table. "And I think it's perfect for Bubblegum, because she's more of a pop kind of girl, and this could be played as pop…ish."

I read over the lyrics twice, mouthing the words and already coming up with the perfect beat. "Wow, this is amazing, Fiore," I gasped, "But why is it crumpled up?"

Flame Princess blushed. "Because I got mad and threw it to a dusty corner of my room."

"Why did you get mad?" I asked.

She crossed her arms and sank in her seat. "I'd rather not talk about it. But let's just say that a certain father of mine killed my piano teacher after completing the song."

I whistled. "Oh, well…" I folded the papers and stuffed them inside my red jacket. "Thanks guys. Go eat lunch!"

Finn bolted up and grinned. "Woo—"

RRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNGGG!

"Ooh," I said, "Sorry peeps. I lost track of time. But you can eat during class right?"

Finn scratched his head. "I guess I cou—"
"Great! Bye!" And I zoomed out of the library to avoid trouble.

That was too short, I know, but I can't help it! An improvised, non-planned story is kind of hard. And besides, I can't organize my ideas very well if I just got them! Right now, I completed the famous saying by Ernest Hemingway, "Write Drunk, and Edit Sober." I just did. Okay? And about the update…I think I'll have this whole story up by the time my parents decide to pay the internet bill.

Goodbye!