A/N: Just a heads up, there's some serious bashing of a certain fandom in this chapter. Sorry if you happen to like what comes up, but I'd just like to remind you that Mello's opinion is not my own XD I don't really hate the fandom at all, in fact there was a phase at which I liked it, so really this is making fun of myself – I know so much about what happens during those movies because I HAVE GONE TO IT TWICE. XD So don't get mad at me, ok? (:

Mello's POV

"HOLY SHIT! MATT! COME BACK! FUUUUCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK IT ALLLLLLL!" I shrieked, pounding my fist into the wall. This did more damage to my poor knuckles than the stupid-ass drywall, but it made no difference – I was too busy wanting to tear my own hair out.

Okay, so yeah, I made a reasonable decision, I get it. But seriously, you have no idea how much I wanted to throw myself out the window and hope he'd catch me when he left after that day, especially after he turned and gave me this dorky little wave-wink combo on his way to his car.

Now, of course, he did not hear my wild, crazed dialogue (thank god, how embarrassing would that have been?) and drove off completely oblivious to my sudden change of thought process. I guess I was back to my old self after all…

Releasing a shrill groan and not particularly caring if the neighbors called the cops I grabbed the remainder of the cake, a carton of milk, and my Snuggie (say one word and I kick you in the groin, git) and collapsed onto the couch to watch a few hours of TV to get my mind off of it.

However, I immediately got an anxious, very uncomfortable pretty much everywhere. Sliding my Snuggie off I shed my leather vest – this did not help. Huffing, I peeled off my leather pants as well, but even standing there naked I felt constricted and anxious. Letting out an aggregated sigh I returned to the couch (but only after cuddling back into my Snuggie) grabbed my cake and milk carton (yeah, I drink right out of the carton sometimes, so what?) and decided to just wait it out.

I passed out eight hours of TV, studying, and eating later, dressed in only a Snuggie, cake eaten, brain rotted, and still riddled with anxiety.

I woke up to a back ache, a killer headache, the dim sounds of the morning news, and the horrible realization that I had no idea what I was going to do when I got to work today.

There was a completely OCD part of me that wanted to plan it out in my head, try to mark out exactly how I was going to act around him to make sure everything went perfectly, but the rest of me discarded this idea. First of all, things like that never work out, and second, well… there was an even bigger part of me that wanted this to work out on its own, for things to simply work between us (for friendship or otherwise) because we are who we are, not some planned-out version of ourselves.

Yep. That's what I told myself. Definitely not just because I was clueless when it came to friendship… yep, definitely not that…

Absolutely…

Anyway I was pretty sure of myself and my righteousness on the topic until I arrived at Justice – had secured a place in Matt's heart as for then, even if it was just as friends, and for the most part I was feeling pretty damn good except for perhaps the eerie realization that I was beginning to actually get used to the Justice atmosphere… oh lord. Not good. But other than that… yeah, pretty good mood.

I was just taking my place at the cahier's counter when I realized my mistake: Matt showed up like he always did, exactly three minutes late, trying his very hardest to look casual and cool and like he wasn't late at all but was failing epically at it, before finally reaching the counter and diving behind it (and behind me) – I realized I had no idea how to treat him now. Or previous "friendship" had consisted of me stalking him, him blushing, me hitting on him, him blushing or returning the favor, and if the later happened, I would return it two times worse and he would blush. That was it.

This realization hit me like a ton of rocks, because I knew it couldn't just keep going like that, as much fun as that was… could it?

"Hey," I say with a fake chuckle, eyeing him from his place on the floor. Ohh, nice crouch there Matty, I'd hit tha— woahh, bad thoughts! Bad thoughts! Mind out of the gutter, Mello!

But then, getting your mind out of the gutter once it's lived there all its life is difficult to do… gah.

Matt doesn't seem to notice me internally smacking myself, peering semi-nervously over the counter with shifty-eyes. "Did L see me come in?"

"Don't know, I think he's in his office," I tell him carefully, pretending to look around the store whilst actually just staring Matt down from the corner of my eye. My thoughts are running on overdrive, for once at a loss as to what to say to him: What do I say, just 'hey Matt, we're friends now, let's frolic?' I mean really, wha— whoa, Matt don't stretch like that when you stand up, that's damn enticing… fucking hell, Mello, stop having weird thoughts about your friend. But man, he's perfect… except he really needs to get rid of that blue hair already; I don't know what the hell, I barely noticed it before I was so distracted but damn... he was so much sexier with the r- er…

The thought-searching wasn't working in the slightest, and now Matt was giving me a funny look. "What?"

"Uh, nothing," I manage, flashing him my best sweet smile – which I'm pretty sure makes him go pale with horror, by the way, so it's not really much of a "best" – before turning back to help some petite Asian girl with a flirty smile already plastered on her lips. God, I'm so not in the mood for this…

"Hey there, I'm Natalie," she purrs, except the way she says it sounds more like Nahtahlay.

Just as I'm about to tell Nahtahlay to shut up and buy something Matt appears beside me, a sickly sweet smile on his face as he bumps me out of the way and grins at her. Before I can imagine what the hell he's thinking he says in a shockingly sweet tone, "He's gay, I'm not interested, buy something or get out. Please and thank you~"

Nahtahlay stares at him, then at me, then back at him again. I flip my hair over my shoulder and give her a flash of a smile. "The nail polish is on sale?" I offer nervously. Nahtahlay apparently doesn't like nail-polish, because she's already practically flying out of the store.

I would have laughed at Matt's victory-grin under any other circumstances, but right then I only stared at him, not quite sure what to think. I was totally cool with him being cool with my sexuality (actually, I was practically on cloud nine for that fact) but for all of heaven and hell I couldn't imagine why now of all times he was defending me from girl-terror. Especially since we weren't going out…

He seems to notice I'm not laughing, because he turns to me and gives me a puzzled, bloody-idiot grin. "Um… that girl wasn't, like, your relative or something, was she?"

I quirk an eyebrow at him, flipping my hair over my shoulder again (note to self: stop doing that, damn me!) before replying bluntly, "Do I look Asian to you?"

Matt laughs, but it's awkward and unfitting, like he stole someone else's laugh and it didn't quite fit right. "I guess you don't, huh? Doesn't hurt to make sure though."

"I guess," I reply blankly. Then, for reasons I can't really explain to you, I mumble, "I'm half German, half Russian, but my step-mom is from Slovenia and she chose my name. I moved here when I was nine."

Cue dead silence of extreme awkwardness.

Then, sounding just as awkward as I felt, Matt mumbled, "Oh. I'm French-Canadian, but I've lived here since I was seven and my mom's from Detroit."

"Oh."

Cue more silence. I don't know what exactly was so damn awkward about the topic, really, but I felt the tension growing in the room and I didn't like it. Finally, Matt breaks it, but it's just with a stupid excuse: "I'm gonna, um, go to the bathroom now."

I raise my eyebrows, looking up at him with an awkward smile. "You're not going to ask me to go with you, are you?"

Matt laughs, shaking his head and strolling away from the counter. "Nope, just because we work at Justice doesn't make us preteen girls."

I manage to smile at him, but by the time the expression makes it onto my face he's already gone. Immediately, I blanch.

What. The. Fuck.

Seriously though, I thought irately, what the hell am I doing? I'm not supposed to be acting like an emo, lovesick, awkward whiner, I'm supposed to be acting like the awesome Mello that I am! I mean really, we're already established that we're friends, I should be acting… friendly! Or something! Anything but this damn awkwardness! UGH.

L, who had apparently finally crawled out of his office, gives me an inexplicable look. I guess I must have been saying my thoughts aloud without meaning to, because he calls, "Are you in need of a break, Mello?"

I meet his eyes, trying to keep a decent smile on my face since I had only just started. "No, I'm…" He gives me a pointed look. I deflate. "Yeah… yeah, that might be good…"

"Be back soon," L chirps, and then adds under his breath, "And tell Matt I said hello."

Before I can ask him how the hell he knew what was going on he turns on his bare heel and strolls back into his office, leaving me there to gape after him.

I didn't gape for long, however – I still had the conviction from my earlier inner (or at least, what I thought had been inner) rant. After a quick glance behind me to make sure that Misa had taken over the cashier counter I hurried back towards the bathroom, ignoring the oh-it's-a-homo glares I got from the cluster of teen boys standing outside the bathroom. I was so beyond caring about that, puh-lease…

Really I was a bit surprised to find that Matt was really still in the bathroom, but there he was, standing at the mirror with an unhappy look on his face. There were three other people in the proximity but I ignored them, not really giving any thought into my actions until I had already stalked across the room and spun Matt around, slamming him into the wall between the sinks with what I imagine must have been a wild look in my eyes.

As I should have expected, Matt releases a shriek of surprise, eyes going huge behind his goggles. As soon as he sees that it's me, though, he relaxes a bit, though he still looks ready to wig out. "What the hell, Mello?" Matt hisses, face turning a funny shade of pink. "There are innocent men in here trying to pee!"

One of said men at the urinal grunts his agreement, but I don't bother with it, not releasing my grip on Matt's shoulders. "What the hell? What about you? Why do we keep being all awkward?"

"Uh" was Matt's brilliant reply. I let out a hiss of a sigh, narrowing my eyes.

"Look, Matty," I say as I lean forward, quieter now since the urinal-guy ran out from behind me when I didn't oblige and some teen kid is giving me the I'm-gonna-call-the-cops-on-your-ass look. "We're friends, right? We agreed on that?" Matt pauses, then nods hesitantly, still blushing. I release my grip on his shoulders, but don't distance myself from him, repositioning my hands on my hips. "Good. Now look – we are going to stop acting like a bunch of stupid, awkward ninnies or I'm going to FORCE YOU to stop acting like a stupid, awkward ninny. You got that, Matty?"

Matt's POV

Did you know that when you're dizzy, it feels like you're drunk?

"Oh, ah hah, purple buniiiieeeees."

And if you're below the age of 21, God forbid you should be able to empathize.

"I'm not...taking you...to...my...leader..."

So yeah, I'm underage and I still drink sometimes(I have my ways) but I'm not exactly the best role model in the first place. What with the smoking and cussing and all. Yeah.

"FUCKING SHIT!" For some reason I can't fathom, I ended up in my broom closet, sniffling and hugging a Swiffer duster to my chest like a crybaby. My goggles were fogging up, dust was getting everywhere, I was pretty sure I was sitting on a dead cockroach, and I was this close to belting out the lyrics to "Baby Come Back" at the ceiling in hopes that Mello would come in and save me from my despair.

And I'm not even kidding about that last part. Normally I'd berate myself for the theatrics unless it was a dire emergency, but fudge-THIS WAS AN EMERGENCY. No, scratch that, it has gone up being an emergency to being a freaking tidal wave washing over town. My town, to be specific, which for now I'm naming Mattville.

"Goodbye, little Matties," I cooed to myself, imagining mini-me's running around and being drowned. "Swim, you little arseholes..."

I felt like my brain had been dropped into a blender and set on 'liquify' without putting the lid back on, thus letting it spew out random emotions like anger and desperation and resentment. I hated it, because normally my emotions are in check(thank you very much). I hated even more that right now Mello was probably being a git and consuming chocolate bars like whales eat krill; completely oblivious to the nearby dying redhead. I mean, hello...

I made a resolution to myself that I would not take this out on Mello. He only did what was best for us, so I should be thankful.

Yeah, I'm ever so grateful for you, Mels, I thought sourly. I think that I'm fully incapable of thinking that without being the least bit sarcastic, because I didn't like this new arrangement. I liked being around Mello's perverse-ness, and thanks to my slight(or maybe huge) sense of masochism, I enjoyed being the center of his attention, even though the attention wasn't necessarily positive. Nonetheless, I had to at least try. I mean, jeez, I didn't want to scare him off with this overwhelming urge to glomp him whenever I saw him. Therefore I needed to not be a stupid, awkward ninny and try my best to act like Mello and I were friends.

But you know, I find it funny that on the following day, after a whole episode me being late, gallantly saving Mello from a girl, and Mello following me into the bathroom yet again, I was acting like a stupid, awkward ninny. Yeah, I guess things just work that way for me...

"-or I'm going to FORCE you to stop acting like a stupid, awkward ninny. You got that, Matty?" Mello's tone was soft so the peeing guys behind us wouldn't hear, but the malice in his voice was crystal clear.

I repressed a "Sir, yes sir!" and a salute, instead settling for stiff, jerky nod.

While I applauded Mello inwardly for thinking a lot like me in this situation('stupid, awkward ninny:' what are the odds?), did he have to emphasize that 'FORCE YOU' in his little rant? It made me feel like if someone was to type that phrase, they'd be using caps lock. Oh, and it also made me feel a little funny in my head because being forced by Mello sounds absolutely agreeable with me. Heh, go figure.

Mello shoved me back a little and I winced as my head banged a little on the tiled walls of the bathroom.

Which just probably caused about a million germs(one of them being STD) to transfer from the wall to my hair. Damn it. Note to self: shower as soon as possible, and use that nice-smelling strawberry shampoo that makes me smell fruity.

"Good," Mello said shortly. He was glaring at me, but would it sound weird if I told you that I wanted to swoon instead of cower...? Jeez, all that strawberry jam(yeah, I said strawberry jam, shut up) must be getting to my head.

Besides, Mello looked like he was getting the same thoughts. About the forcing thing, I mean, not the jam. Or it could have been my imagination, since I'm pretty well-known for having an active one. Either way, the look had been diminished from his face within two seconds, and he glanced at me with a smile that seemed a little force.

"You know what?" His tone suggested that he was either a)willing to forget the very mean words he told me a few minutes ago, or b)bipolar. "We should go see a movie together."

Bewildered, I said, "But you said-" -that we're going to be friends, Mello, so dammit, stop tempting me!

"As friends," he cut in. He cocked his head to the side. "That wouldn't be awkward and ninny-like, right?"

I wasn't sure which of both facts made me want to burst out in giggles: that Mello had said 'ninny-like,' or the look he was giving me that suggested he was being serious.

"Um, sure?" I replied tentatively, scratching my head absently and wondering when he was going to blurt out, "Gotcha! I was just kidding!"

But to my growing surprise, Mello nodded. "Good." Then he gave me a bright smile. "So, pick me up at seven?"

Wow. Makes one wonder why he keeps denying the fact that he's more feminine than he thinks.

Yet I found myself nodding also. "Sounds fine," I said airily. Surely this wasn't a date. Mello said it himself: we were going as platonic friends. Yep, platonic indeed. Platonic as the green line on a dead man's heart monitor...or I terrified man's...

And so, four hours after my shift ended at Justice, I stood outside of Mello's apartment for, what? The third time? Fourth? Not that I should be counting. Whatever.

I tugged at the hoodie I was wearing in replacement of my vest, trying to convince myself that I had not spent an hour getting ready. Maybe an hour and a half. And the only reason that that extra thirty minutes was clumped in there was because of my blue hair, which, if you might have forgotten, I still had. Hm, let's see, I think I sense a flashback coming on, oh god...

" 'Guaranteed to be as strong as to wash out dye!' " I read out loud to myself. Giving a thoughtful hum, I looked into the mirror at my blue hair, then at the clock visible through the open bathroom door. I had enough time.

Five minutes later, I'd stripped and was dumping out a one hundred and one pounds of the shampoo onto my palm.

Ten minutes later, I'd gone through one bottle of the shampoo already. I'd expected this to happen, so I had about two more bottles. I snatched one up from the bathroom counter outside of the shower to resume the de-dying of my hair.

Ten more minutes later, the blue was finally coming out and I was through the second bottle. My fingers ached from massaging my scalp for so long.

Ten more minutes later, most of the blue was out and swirling down the drain. Only a little bit remained. I felt like a prune.

And finally, after fifteen more minutes of rinsing my hair, the last of the dye was out and I felt like Mrs. Pavlakovich: wrinkly and dried up. Never mind that, I felt worse. Like a shriveled up Barney. Oh sweet Jesus.

Glad to be out of the water, I turned off the shower and stepped out-

"Hm, impressive," Mello snapped me out of my memory. "You're not late." There was a hint of approval in his voice.

I rolled my eyes. "Well, I'm only on time for important stuff, I guess." I shrugged. I was too busy roving my eyes down Mello's outfit to realize how non-friendly that sounded. The effeminate blond was out of his leather and wearing casual light pants and a long-sleeved gray shirt with a jacket. I looked down at myself next, feeling suddenly overdressed with my skinny jeans.

"Welll, aren't you going to take me to your car?" Mello piped up with a raise of his eyebrow.

"Yes your Majesty," I joked, stepping back and gesturing the way towards my car.

It was Mello's turn to roll his eyes; he hit me playfully on the arm, and I felt like were actually were friends. That helped with my anxiety of 'OMG-is-this-a-date-or-what,' along with the car rides.

Because, let me tell you, car rides with Mello are one of the things in life that you wouldn't want to miss. Well, then again, that's only true if you can stand obnoxious singing along to the radio, constant complaints of your driving, and the occasional pointed little sentences like, "You're going the wrong way, retard."

Anyway, the moment I began to back out of the parking lot, Mello turned the radio on and the volume up, causing Neon Tree's 'Animal' to blast loudly.

" 'Here we go again, I kinda wanna be more than friends,' " began the singer, and Mello's voice overlapped it. He was obviously doing it on purpose; it sounded too bad to be his best singing voice.

"Hey Mel?" I said suddenly. My finger tapped against the steering wheel to the rhythm; the song was sticking to me, fast.

Mello surprised me for the second time that day for actually hearing my question over the loud music. I was amusedly observing the driver next to us(who was shouting incoherent profanity and sticking up her middle finger) when his reply came: "Yeah?"

I gave my question a bit of thought before deciding that it couldn't hurt to ask. "Sing for me."

Stealing a sideways glance at my companion, I saw that he didn't look so surprised. Just curious. "Why?" He had to yell over the music.

I shrugged as I maneuvered the car to a U-turn(missed that damn left turn...), answering, "I dunno." Then I quickly added, "I mean, as your friend, I think that I should have heard you actually sing at least once."

He couldn't argue with this, it seemed. "Well, okay." He waited for the chorus to come back around. When it neared, he opened his mouth, and began to sing in the most melodious voice I've ever heard, " 'Oh oh, I want some more, whoa oh, what are you waiting for? Say goodbye to my heart tonight.' "

That song was a bit too fitting for our situation, but I pushed that aside, instead trying to think of an excuse to hear him sing again. Because, holy potato chips, that was the best singing voice I've ever heard. He was no Christina Aguilera; his voice was more tame, for a lack of a better term. It was soft and gentle, as if the person never had once shouted in his whole life. (Insert suspicious look at Mello here)

"That's...good," I got out, figuring that if I'd voiced my thoughts, it would be breaking the whole 'we're-just-friends' thing.

Mello was actually abashed, I noted after stealing a glance at him. "I suck," he said informatively.

Everyone sucks, I thought dazedly. You just have to specify what they suck, exactly... I decided not to start an argument-over my friend's singing voice, of all things.

After a few more songs that Mello and I screeched along to, a bird we nearly ran over("Matt, watch out for that poor pigeon!"), and an almost-car crash("Don't hit the pigeon! Quickly, veer left from it!"), we made it to the movie theater, thankfully, unscathed. Well, except for the slight bruise on my arm from Mello-dearest after the pigeon fiasco, but my point stands.

"So, what movie?" I asked as we stood sometime later in the theater's lobby. A small billboard above the snack counter displayed all kinds of movies they were playing.

Mello seemed preoccupied with something else. "Hey Matt," he hissed, tugging on my sleeve. He pointed; my eyes followed. "It's that woman who threw eggs at me."

I squinted, already thinking, Oh please don't let it be who I think it is.

The following outburst from a certain old lady confirmed my suspicions.

"I ordered gravy!" Mrs. Pavlakovich shrieked with the Evil Old Lady Glare of Doom. "Give me my gravy!"

They were attracting attention and fast; two security guards put their hands on their batons just in case... Beside me, Mello gave a snort. "What does she think this place is?" he muttered to me. "KFC?"

And, right on cue, Mrs. P screamed, "As KFC employees, it is your job not to forget to put the gravy in my bag of chicken!" She paused, her squinty little eyes scrutinizing the poor female employee that had been unfortunate enough to be put with her. "Where's my chicken?"

"Please, m'am," the employee said with an embarrassed smile. "I'm afraid you have the wrong idea - this is the movie theater. There's a KFC right across the road, if that's what you're looking for."

Mello snickered, hiding his grin behind his sleeve. I wondered what the hell he found funny about this; it was Mrs. P, for god's sake, she was terrifying...

Said old lady was managing to have some quiet conversation with the employee. Thinking that it would all blow over soon, I turned to one of the other employees behind the counter and bought two tickets to some random movie. I guess I wasn't really focused when I bought them; I mumbled a "Thanks" to the nice woman just as Mrs. P was starting up again.

"What do you mean, no pets!" she was ranting. "Snuckumpuss is not a pet - she is my daughter!"

I winced. Is she really that lonely...? I watched as Snuckumpuss slinked around her ankles, hissing and scratching and pooped(though only once). "Snuckumpuss," Mrs. P shrilled, "ATTAAAAACK!"

"Let's go," I nearly whimpered, turning around and trying to tug Mello towards our designated theater.

Mello glanced down at his wrist, which was currently being held in practically a death grip by my own hand. Well, screw me if this is awkward...

"Sure thing, Matty," he chuckled, nodding slowly. "For what movies did you get tickets for?" He leaned forward as to catch a glimpse of the tickets in my hand.

I laughed a little. "It's a surprise," I told him. Honestly, I had no idea myself. Like I'd said before, I'd bought the tickets on a whim... Well, I guess we'll just have to go in and watch the movie and hope it's not anything too weird. I was seriously afraid to look at the ticket and find out what movie.

And so we entered the theater. We found some good seats near the middle, away from the group of giggling girls that kept pointing at us.

Jeez. Teenagers these days.

When I finally sat down, realization settled over me like a big, heavy blanket. I. Was. Seeing. A. Movie. With. Mello.

What was I thinking? Why had I agreed to this? Oh god, oh god, oh god, Matt, you idiot!

Mello saw my apparently troubled face and asked, "You okay?"

"Just fine," I garbled out as a response. Um, no, not really.

Mello's POV

I do believe hell hath frozen over.

Because, awe of all awe, I have received three miracles today. I feel like fucking Jesus or something. To sort out what those are, look back for a moment: First, I got a friendship-date, with Matt to make matters even fucking better. As in I didn't have to woe him with my charm or my body. That, my friends, is rare in and of itself. People don't tend to like my actual personality, if you catch my drift. So this was my first miracle, easily.

Second: MATT. WASN'T. LATE. I know, it's amazing. Here was, all ready to go and thinking that, since I was just on time getting ready, I would have time to maybe check my email on my laptop or maybe paint my nails while waiting for Matt to haul ass over here, but no: he was actually there already. Seriously, holy shit – I almost suspected that it was some dumbass door-to-door salesman or one of those stupid girl scouts again who somehow insist on going into apartment complexes to ask you if you want fucking cookies. Seriously, don't they know how many drug dealers live in this neighborhood? ….well, in any case, it was Matt.

Third and probably the most miraculous: I managed to not jump Matt's bones on the way to the movie theater. Actually, to my upmost surprise, it wasn't even hard. I found myself completely relaxing during our car-ride, belting out lyrics to popular radio songs with Matt (whose voice wasn't half bad really), him somehow convincing me to feel comfortable to sing for real (even if I suuuuccckkkkk), and – shocker – I even managed not to even think about trying anything when Sexy Back came on and Matt started wiggling his damn hips to the beat. Damn him. Well, granted, I was doing it to, but…

In any case, the miracles' occurred, I survived, and my belief in God is restored for the next thirty minutes… seconds… whatever.

Anyways after a very enlightening car-ride we strolled into the movie theater, feeling completely content and joyful (well okay, I did, but I couldn't be sure about Matt, I'm not inside his head, dammit) even though that creepy old woman (whose name escapes me) and her cat/daughter/only friend Snuckumpuss was there. I'm not sure exactly why Matt is afraid of her – she's a creepy old woman, sure, but if she's trying to order KFC at a movie theater she can't possibly be smart enough to do anything. From the looks of things, the cat has a better IQ than her.

But regardless of the crinklier of us in mention, between Matt's being my friend-date, an excellent car ride, my dashing good looks (mmhmm, I went there), Matt holding my hand (I admit it, my heart fluttered a little, but then, it might have been indigestion from all the cake I ate yesterday…) and going to see a movie (even though I didn't know which one since Matt said it was a surprise – meaning he didn't know what either) I was in a pretty freakin' good mood. This good mood was pretty damn awesome, let me tell you – it had me going as far as letting my hard exterior slip even further than I had thought it to, reaching over and mooching off of Matt's giant root beer and giggling like a giant dweeb when he gave me an incredulous look.

This mood dilapidated significantly as soon as the actual movie came on. As the very beginning tune started to play in the background of the movie, I recgonized it immediately, and that's when I realized the three things I should have realized before:

Ms. P was sitting a few rows down from us, with Snuckumpuss in his very own seat beside her. This was mostly irrelevant to the movie, but whatever.

There were an alarming number of ditzy, squealing teen girls in the theater, many of which who shrieked with joy when the lights dimmed down.

The cluster of people beside us (mostly girls, two guys) were all wearing merchandise T-shirts with semi-attractive teen guys on the front, a lot of the girls appeared to be wearing glitter-laced lotion, and one of the guys grinned at me with what appeared to be fake fangs on his teeth.

These things clicked just as what movie we had actually decided on viewing came onto the screen.

"What the hell Matt, you got us tickets for Twilight? I thought we'd see Love and Other Drugs! I didn't even know they still played this!" I hissed as quietly as I could – apparently not quiet enough, because some girl behind me hissed (yes, hissed) in reaction – nudging Matt's shoulder accusingly. Said redhead was staring at the screen with an expression nothing short of horror.

"I… I didn't either…" Matt choked out in disbelief, slowly tearing his appalled eyes off of the screen to meet my gaze. I had to fight back a stroke of laughter at his expression. "I've heard of these things… these random showings in theaters… fans come from all over… apparently it's a big thing…"

I stare at him for a long moment, glance back at the screen to see some relatively pretty girl (Kristen Stewart?) roaming around on the screen with a lost look on her face. I had to wonder if that was acting or just her usual expression, though… I look back at Matt again, putting on my best bitch-and-whine face as I mutter, "Worst. Date. Ever."

Matt makes an overdramatic gasping noise, replying a bit too loudly: "Don't judge me on Twilight, I hate this movie."

It wasn't really all that loud, I assure you, but apparently it was to the twin girls (or perhaps all fangirls just look the same and they weren't related at all, I dunno) in front of us, both of which whirled around to give us a shut-up-or-die glare. Of course, Matt and I put on our very best obedient, I-am-so-sorry faces until they turned back to the movies, muttering rather loudly about "stupid trolls" and going back to watching the movie, on which screen a middle aged man was grumbling something about hair. Whatever.

As soon as we were sure they weren't looking at us in their peripheral vision anymore we both took to a strained, muffled laughter, the kind that, no matter how many barricades we put to block it from escaping the little squeaks and high notes of it still escaped into the room, earning us some glares from other movie-viewers. Normally, I would hate us for interrupting a movie (I despise people like that, dammit) but to be honest this movie was so ridiculous I couldn't bring myself to care, and from the look s of everyone in the theater (except maybe Ms. P, who was staring at us from the front row while her cat took a shit on the seat) looked as if they had seen this movie at least a million times judging by their attire as well as how the crowd would shout and squee or shout "SEXY" or "TEAM EDWARD" or "JACOB IS BETTER" or "FUCKYES" whenever the weird pale kid with the lipstick came on the screen and/or the way the girl behind me kept muttering the exact lines of the movie mere seconds before they were spoken (creepy, creepy, creepy, don'tturnaroundMelloohmygod) so it didn't really matter in the end.

"Dude this is the weirdest shit ever," Matt mumbled to me, shaking his head so that the red tousles on his hair fell in front of his face. Speaking of which, I guess that dye hadn't been permanent… thank god; I'm so adding that to my miracle list! Really!

I grin, elated not only at that long-overdue revelation and the giddy way Matt was looking at me. "Totally – I'm betting every single guy in here is either flamin' gay or really, really desperate to get into a girl's pants."

Matt chuckled, and then paused, looking at me quizzically: "But… you're gay… aren't you?"

Slowly I raised my eyebrows at him (I do have eyebrows you know, their just really, really light blonde and high-arched so they're behind my bangs and practically invisible… but they ARE there) leaning slightly to the side and bumping my elbow with his as I chuckle back, "Matty, do you really need me to confirm my sexuality?" He shrugs, and I roll my eyes, throwing my hair behind my shoulder and returning my eyes to the screen, though really it was just an excuse to look away from Matt to avoid awkwardness (though there was the added bonus of being in time to see some guy in a wheelchair having some sort of showdown with the middle-aged guy, which was partially amusing I had to admit). "Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I necessarily like Twilight, but if you like Twilight you're pretty much a giant fag, yeah."

Matt laughed, nodding his agreement and reaching across to pluck the soda – which I hadn't realized I'd been holding – from my hands and take a large suck. I watched him do this for a moment before realizing that my mind had taken a wrong turn into the gutter upon the word suck and I quickly looked away. Don't think dick, think vampire, think vampire, think Edward Cullen, think Robert Patterson, think those Robert Patterson panties you saw in the store… I peeked down at my pants. Yep, crisis averted, hard on avoided, and all is well. Thank you, crap movies, I owe you one.

But seriously though – I need to learn to keep it in my pants. Seriously.

A few more seconds of shit-movie later we seemed to be a bit at a loss for anything to say, Matt drinking root beer and me watching no-pigmentation-man walk dramatically into the lunchroom, which of course was the cue for the entire room to gasp in ecstasy and me to groan angrily as loud as I could, just to spite the sex-deprived teenagers in the room.

Matt grinned, looking at me from the corner of his eye and mumbling, "Gee, these girls are going to be awfully disappointed when Edward finally gets around to telling everyone he's gay, aren't they?"

I would love to tell you I nearly spit out my soda laughing at his joke, but I can't because that would be a lie. I didn't.

What actually happened was that I did spit out my soda laughing at his joke, all over the Asian girl in front of me. Poor girl, I would almost feel bad for her except her hair was so caked with glitter-hair-gel that she didn't even feel it. Seriously, her hair barely even moved, just sort of got splattered with the soda but it didn't actually hit her head at all, only her what-I-thought-was-silky-but-was-probably-actually-rock-hard hair. Though she didn't notice at all, apparently too enraptured in the shittiest movie in the universe to bother with the saliva/soda mixture currently dripping from her dark brown locks.

"Oh my god, Mello," Matt whispers through his muffled laughter, holding his arm over his hand in effort to avoid bursting into wild laughter. "You freak!"

"I didn't mean to!" I hiss back, blushing and trying to stop from laughing again myself, since we all know too well where that would end up. No more soda for me today.

Just as I'm considering shoving a sock in Matt's mouth since he can't seem to stop laughing like a giant doofus and the rabid fangirls to our left are looking majorly irked (I'm pretty sure I heard one of them whisper, "you grab the blonde, I'll get the redhead, we'll drink out all their blood then see how they like us", I'm not even joking… let's hope they were…) the raging, angry voice of a certain old woman interrupts everything, throwing herself to her feet and screaming, "WHERE IS THAT FOOL WAITOR? HE WAS SUPPOSED TO GET MY MASHED POTATARS HOURS AGO! DAMN TEENAGERS!"

"Potatars?" echoes one of the slower fangirls in the theater.

The rest of the hoard immediately throws a fit, however, because our dear, lovely Ms. P has stood up right in the middle of the Meadow scene and apparently the fangirls don't appreciate that very much. The shrieks are as follows:

"SIT DOWN, LADY!"

"AHHHH! I'M MISSING CULLEN! I'M MISSING CUULLEEENNNN!"

"Shut up!"

"This is a movie theater!"

"Potatars?"

"WHO STOLE MY PANTS?"

"TEAM JACOB!"

"YOU WHORE!"

"Oh my god THAT CAT PISSED ON MY TWILIGHT BAG! NOOO, EDWARDS FACE HAS CAT PISS ON IT!"

"TEAM JACOB, BITCH! THE KITTEH HAS SPOKEN!"

"I. Want. My. POTATARS."

…and that's when I stopped listening, because a large chunk of… something hit Ms. P in the face, some Team Edward girl launched herself at the cat-piss-comment chick, the twins behind me started trying to stand on their seats to see the movie, then someone shouted something about Fairies and that's when war broke out. I'm not really sure exactly what happened, except that by the end of it somehow Matt and I were in the back row of the theater with that damn Snuckumpuss somehow crammed between our legs in hiding as some sort of obnoxious fangirl-war went on behind us.

"Umm…" Matt croaked out, looking at me slowly with an awkward, disbelieving look on his face. "How did we even end up in this situation?" I had no answer, so I only stared at him until he asked a second one: "Am I dreaming? Because I've had weird ass dreams like this, where you were half bunny and-"

"Matty, you're awesome, but I don't want to hear about your creepy bunny dreams ," I told him flatly, face flushing. Beside me, Snuckumpuss meowed his agreement.

Matt eyed the cat with such suspicion one might think that it was a child molester who especially, especially liked nerdy redheads with nice asses rather than a random, fat feline trying very hard to lick the butter out of its fur. "When did the cat get here?"

"Uh… don't know," I replied, turning myself around in my crouch to peer over the seat just as a soda bottle flew through the air and decked some guy in the face just as some creepy constipated-looking guy made a comment about how good Kristen Stewart smelled. Um, what? Whatever. "We can't just throw the poor thing into the line of fire, though."

"We can't?" Matt replied, sounding almost genuinely disappointed. Snuckumpuss sniffed, and I peeked a look at it. All this time I had thought the feline to be a boy, but Ms. P had called the thing it's daughter… I shuddered, turning away to look back at the vampire v.s. werewolf yell-out fight happening in the theater. It looked less violent and more squealy and whiny, really, but I still wasn't all too excited to return to the theater. To make matters worse (or maybe better) I couldn't find Ms. P in the crowd either.

Pressing myself against the seat farther I carefully plucked the cat up from the ground and, praying that the thing wouldn't shit on me, I stood up and looked down at Matt. "Let's get the fuck out of here, we'll return this him… her… the creature later."

Matt released a whine, something about cat shit all over his white carpet, but I was already gallivanting towards the exit door, expertly dodging thrown objects, fangirls, and security guards whilst somehow not dropping the practically fucking 300 pound cat on my way out. I took an admittedly melodramatic inhale as I reached the outside world – or at least the movie theater hallway.

I swear to god I had sparkles in my lungs before.

Matt is laughing when he finally catches up to me, peering down at me with raised eyebrows. "So I guess we're not going to stay as long as we thought?" he inquired, putting a hand on my head in a friendly kind of way. He sounds carefree, but his eyes glow with disappointment.

Snuckumpuss hisses.

I sigh, rolling my eyes and hoisting Snuckumpuss more securely into my arms. "Of course we are, we're sneaking into the Harry Potter movie. Now haul ass, we're already coming in half way through – you've seen it right?"

Matt grins. "Saw the premiere!" he announces proudly, puffing out his chest.

I grin back. "Really?" I inquire, feigning being impressed. Then I smirk and turn around, strolling down the hallway with a call back of, "You're such a dweeb."

"Hey!" Matt cries, but I'm already half way into the theater.

.x.

The rest of the movie/date/get-together/friendship/outing… thing goes pretty well. At least, there are no random, unbelievable battles that break out anyway; we simply slip into the back of the theater and watch the remainder of the Harry Potter film playing which, SPOILER ALERT, has a giant cliffhanger. Because no one saw that coming.

Still, I found myself grinning from ear to ear by the end of the movie, tilting my head to look up at Matt. I had forced him to trade me the root beer for Snuckumpuss, who thankfully had refrained from taking a crap on his lap thus far, though that could change at any time.

"Ready to get out of here now?" Matt inquired, giving me this awkward little grin that made me want to quite frankly leap out of my skin. Through the process of trying to avoid being torn to shreds by sparkly fairy and/or shape shifter fangirls, I had nearly forgotten how fucking adorable the freckled redhead was. Well, okay, I hadn't, but I'd been very, very distracted, and I had tried my best not to think of it so I didn't do something crazy like jump his bones right there in the movie theater or…

I sighed. Man, this friend thing was hard.

"Um, Mel? You okay dude?" Matt inquired, leaning over to shake my shoulder a little too roughly so that my head shook from side to side. I blinked and looked up at him, managing a real, genuine smile at the sight of his worried little frown.

"Yep, I'm fine. Let's get out of here," I replied, getting up and grabbing the mostly-empty giant root beer cup. Matt grinned to me, nodding happily.

Snuckumpuss chose this moment to go ahead and relieve himself.

Four very messy minutes later we were out of napkins to rub the residue off of his shoe, Matt was wailing about being a bad person, there was a brand new blobby brown stain on the movie theater floor, and there was a cat sitting in the back of the car, making him/herself quite comfy on the back seat.

I buckled myself in, still giggling to myself. "That was crazy," I laugh, looking up at him with what I can only help is a buddy-buddy expression though I'm sure it reflected quite a bit of affection that I couldn't really be bothered to banish anymore, and just for good measure on the just friends efforts I add a chuckling "Dude" to the end.

Matt grins back, but it's strained by anxiety as he peeks back at Snuckumpuss, face going a bit pale. "I swear to god," he says, looking back to the road as he pulls out of his parking spot with expert skill I can't help but be impressed with, "If that damn cat shits on Barbra's leather seats I'm going to throw it in the river."

I laughed, shaking my head before reaching to turn on the radio. Just before I did, though, my finger lingered on the ON button, eyes slowly rising to look at him with what could only really be called bewilderment.

Matt frowned, looking at me from the corner of his eye. "What's that look?" he inquired slowly, turning the corner.

"Barbra?" I echo him, raising an eyebrow at him and withdrawing my hand. "I thought this was your car…?"

Matt laughs at me, as if I was the one acting crazy and not him, shaking his head so that his red tousles fall into his face in an extremely adorable fashion. "No, silly-willis-"

"Silly willis?" I echo in a shrill, slightly disturbed tone, but he continues without acknowledging his innteruptance.

"-Of course this is my car. Barbra's her name," he explains, rubbing the wheel of the car affectionately as if this were the most normal thing in the world. Staring at him, I'm not sure whether I should be relieved that it's his car and not some woman or scared because he named his car. That's such a… straight guy thing.

"You named your car?" I say in disbelief, brushing my hair behind my ear. He nods, beaming proudly as he turns yet another corner; I can tell he's speeding, because it usually takes me double this time to get to my apartment. I wince. "You named your car… Barbra?"

Matt laughs at me again, shaking his head and pulling into my parking lot. I'm impressed, secretly, that he actually remembered not to pass it this time. "of course, Barbra," he says simply, killing the engine of the car and turning a smile on me that held so much sparkle it envied Edward Cullen. "Like Barbra Streisand!"

I facepalm before I can stop myself, trying to hold back a bought of relieved and yet frustrated laughter. Oh my god, how does this boy not acknowledge his sexuality yet…?

Or maybe he has. Maybe he just doesn't like me. Wouldn't that just be my luck?

"Come on," Matt says encouragingly, patting me on the back almost as if he can read my thoughts. "I'll walk you to the door."

I smile a little, because I can't help myself, and – after a quick goodbye-eye-narrow at Snuckumpuss whom, by the way, I still haven't forgiven for killing my designer boots – I crawl out of the car, smile widening to a grin when Matt rushes around the car to meet me before I can even shut the door… and shuts it for me.

I laugh. "Such a gentlemen," I tease him, punching him in the arm lightly before taking a few steps towards the door, lingering a bit until Matt hurries to walk me to the door, eyes glimmering happily behind the orange tinted lens. I can't help but think that he's very much like a puppy, following me around like this, so eager to be a good boy. Hell, he even hates cats. I grin, bumping shoulders with him as he walks me to the door of my apartment, no real words spoken except for the occasional glance-up-and-laugh-or-roll-your-eyes-at-each-other thing that people do (or at least, we did – I only assume this is the norm because, well, I haven't really had any other friends before this) until we reached the door.

Not sure why, but I felt the absolute need to say something, anything, once I reached the door, so I looked up at him and grinned, "Good luck getting the cat shit off your shoe."

He smiles back effortlessly. "Thanks, Mel," he replies, laughing a little awkwardly. He opens his mouth to perhaps say something more then, and I silence myself to allow him to because there's importance in his eyes even behind those dorky goggles, but it slips away after a moment, instead leaving his lips open slightly in something or another unspoken and the both of us caught in an annoying awkward silence.

Finally, I cough, brushing my hair behind my ear and saying with a fake chuckle, "So, um… see you at work tomorrow. Don't be late."

He smiles, but it looks awkward (still adorable, but awkward). "I'll try," he replies, sending me a wink. I can't help but grin back.

Then something weird happens.

Matt visibly hesitates, eyes staring me down behind the goggles as if I might be some extremely complicated piece of art. Stranger still, still staring at me strangely, he leans forward ever so slowly, red hair falling slightly into his face as he does. He comes so close that, for a moment, I almost think he's going to kiss me; automatically, my eyes flutter shut, heart slamming in my chest so hard I feel it might just burst from my chest and get blood all over Matt's approaching face.

I don't know what he was going to do. Maybe he was just being weird, maybe he really was going to kiss me, maybe he saw something on my face – I don't know. I might have found out, if my phone didn't start screaming What's Up People on full blast right at the wrong moment.

My eyes immediately snap open to find that Matt has already recoiled with widened, confused eyes. I flush out, letting out a nervous, "Uh, that's me" as I fumble around in my back pocket for my cell phone. After a minute of frantic searching I find it wedged beneath my wallet (stupid deep-pocket pants…) and flip it open to reveal a text message from none other than the Mood Ruiner himself.

Near:

Mello - Are you coming to Dru's birthday party? I hear he wants you there, though there is always the chance that it is because he wants to douse you with spiked beverages again. Also, Halle says hello and to "keep it in your pants". I hope she is not referring to your phone, since I have just texted you… -Near

I groan outwardly, slamming my thumbs onto the keyboard in a quick reply (Mello: No, dammit, I AM NOT GOING TO ANY PARTY WITH DRU, OR YOU FOR THAT MATTER. FUCK OFF) before quickly flipping it shut, shoving it angrily into my pocket, then doubling back and sending Matt my best sparkling smile.

Matt raises an eyebrow at me, leaning awkwardly from foot to foot. "Who was that?"

"Meh. No one important," I reply, waving the topic away. Inwardly I'm sweating, because what the fucking hell did that albino brat interrupt anyway and I'm dying from lack of anything to say. It felt way too much like one of those dumb, awkward first dates I used to have in middle school or something. When Matt says nothing in return, I reply, "So, I'll see you tomorrow?"

Matt flashes me his toothpaste-commercial grin and nods. "Cool. I'll see you then. I had a good time."

A genuine smile pushes away my awkward sparkly one, cheeks tainting with blush. "Yeah, me too," I reply softly, fiddling with my keys before finally finding mine and unlocking my door, eyes never really leaving Matt's face. Really, I don't want him to leave. I never want him to leave.

But it's inevitable and, with one last dorky little half-wave he does, strolling down the hallway with his usual arrogant, breezy dexterity.

Okay, so, I'm trying to play it cool here, but to be honest, as soon as Matt starts down those stairs I race into my room, slam the door behind me and bolt for the window in a haste, trying my very best to assume a casual, laid back pose as I lean against the window sill. I'm sure I looked terrible, but it doesn't really matter anyway since once I spot Matt strolling towards his car I melt into a floppy, helpless sitting position, sending him yet another farewell wave.

He grins, and waves back one final time before climbing into his car. As soon as he vanishes behind Barbra's door, however, a little part of me is shrieking for him to come back. I clench my teeth and turn away from the window, trying my best to cling to my manly dignity: he'll be back tomorrow. You'll see him tomorrow. Don't be an impatient bastard, Mello – you'll see him, your FRIEND tomorrow, so stop acting like a ninny!

Then, a shriek comes from the parking lot below:

"FUCKING HELL, SNUCKUMPUSS! HOW DARE YOU SHIT ON BARBRA STREISAND'S FLOORBOARDS!"

I grin, pressing my hand to my lips to keep from releasing a giggle to match my schoolgirl-esque. He's such a nerd.

A/N: Well, kids, um, this A/N is mostly to inform you that, if you read this chapter RIGHT after it was submitted.. you saw my note to Atreyl i stuck at the end instead of this, because it wasn't deleted... ahaha... sorry.