AN: The last chapter of this little experiment I've been working on. This bonus chapter is in Fionna's POV for her performed number Bad Little Boy. Now, Fionna's vocabulary isn't as expanded as Marshall's, so try not to question the difference in literature, please. A few people suggested that I do some sort of spin-off of this, make my own story with actual dialogue and stuff but with the same angst. I'm willing to try since it sounds fun, but I'd like to hear more opinions about it, so please, leave reviews and possible prompts if you can. Otherwise, enjoy.

Bad little boy―that's what you're acting like.

He really wasn't as bad as he always claimed to be. Marshall, that is. He was afraid of change, afraid that if he were to acknowledge his concealed persona from within, he'd lose himself completely. I know that the thought of a vampire being scared is sort of far-fetched, but it was true.

I remember the first time I met the Vampire King. The midnight hour poured a billion suns across the sky, clouded by a thin layer of mist on the outskirts of the Goblin Kingdom. Cake and I were on a special duty that evening, one that was essential to the nighttime atmosphere, and a fog began to blur our surroundings. The smell of dried rust filled the air, dense, heavy. It made me dizzy for a while, burning my nostrils with its thick scent. My knees shook, my balance shifting here and there from the dizziness. My right heel hit a moist object from behind, but before I could trip over it, Cake caught my fall. We both turned to the object only to find that it was a dead body, bloody and torn limb from limb, and in the distance, just remotely, we heard a crunching noise. Facing in the direction of the sound, from on top of a hill, stood a figure with a crimson, ominous glow.

The mysterious creature I saw that night would've scared anybody. Heck, it scared Cake. But as I looked closer, longer, I sensed fear emanating from the creature's cold eyes, somehow confused with the situation it was in. My subconscious took over. For some reason, I felt like the creature needed my help, needed me. I had stepped towards it, wondering how I could possibly help the poor thing, but before I could say anything, it vanished.

Marshall Lee told me later on (after we'd become friends) that the creature I saw that night was him. He had put up a front for so long, hiding who he really was, but again, for odd reasons, the news didn't phase me. Why was Marshall Lee out there alone at night? Did he know about the dead body Cake and I had seen? Was it possible that he was the one who'd killed the hopeless being? He answered my questions, poured all of his past to me. All I could do was cry and say, "You were so lonely."

I really don't buy that you're that type of guy.

After that talk with Marshall, he never mentioned his mom, or the Nightosphere, or even that night we saw each other for the first time. I could tell that he wanted his past to stay in the past. Once I brought up any of the subjects, he'd have this pensive look in his eyes, replaying all the horrible memories he carried with him wherever he went. When I saw it, my voice would go quiet, and I would wait until Marshall brought himself back to the real world. It was obvious that his past bothered him, and I had no place to question it.

He wasn't bad, though. No, I didn't believe that. I believed that he played the part in order to keep up with his "reputation" or whatever. The Marshall I knew was, yes, a jerk at times, but he was fun-spirited, carefree, and didn't care what anyone said about him. Or so I thought.

All I knew was that the more time I spent with Marshall, the more I wanted to get to know him. Eventually, I began to crave his company. I don't know when, and I don't know how, but at some point, I knew: I'd fallen in love with him.

And, if you are, why do you want to hang out with me?

It made no sense in any type of logic to why Marshall Lee hung out with me so much. I mean, maybe he was bored or just didn't have anyone else to talk to, but what attracted him to me? How was I any different to the thousands of other species living in Aaa? He was a thousand years old. Maybe he'd grown tired of everything in life already and wanted to try spending time with one of the only living humans in the world? I assumed I was the only one of my kind, anyway. I didn't know. It's not like I've seen another being like myself. If that wasn't the case, then what exactly was?

I couldn't think about it too long without hurting my head. I wasn't sure what the perks of being a half demon, half vampire were, but aside from my awesome fighting skills, I don't find myself to be all that interesting. It was my luck that someone as curiously alluring and entertaining as the Vampire King actually wanted to be my friend.

Personal feelings would get in the way of my deduction and reasoning when I tried figuring it out. Did Marshall like me, too? Stupid questions like that filled my head. My desire to know was so awfully annoying, but I couldn't help but wonder: Maybe if I wasn't Aaa'a heroine.

Maybe if he wasn't the Vampire King.

Was I deserving of such a bewildering love? I'd never be able to find out.