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1. I have posted a new poll question on my profile page so check it out!

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CHAPTER 14: A CHANGE OF WARDROBE

Fiona fell backwards onto her bed in a huff of frustration. This is impossible...

"Having trouble, sweetie?" Cake peeked into the room.

Fiona sat up, pulled her knees up to her chest, and wrapped her arms around her legs. "Cake, why does this have to be so hard?" She nodded towards the three hangars draped thoughtlessly over the edges of her closet doors.

"Wardrobe problems?" She raised an eyebrow, glancing between the frustrated ball of Fiona who sat silently fuming on the bed, and the abused piles of clothing scattered around the room.

Fiona didn't reply. Instead she proceeded to fall onto her side, still curled up into a tight ball, and stare thoughtfully out the doors that led to her private balcony, her getaway. The one that served as her personal life line to Finn.

Cake pulled the three outfits down from their perch over the closet doors and wiped at the invisible dust that had seemed to gather there over the last few minutes. "Well what is wrong with this one?" She asked, looking thoughtfully at a slightly wrinkled, black, form fitting dress.

"I think it's a little too mature for the concert." She mumbled, never looking up to see which one Cake was referring to.

"How do you even know which one I am holding?" Cake said accusatively, glaring at Fiona, dropping the dress on the ground and planting her hands on her hips.

"Black dress?" Fiona mumbled suspiciously.

"But you didn't even look..." Cake sighed.

"Cake..." Fiona began, finally sitting up and arching an eyebrow back at her. Her hands falling carelessly into her lap. "I have spent a lot of time with these..." She paused, glaring accusingly around the room at the discarded clothing. "Things." She finished, standing up and stretching, then walking towards the balcony, resting her head against the cool, closed glass doors.

Cake sighed in distress. "Well what is so bad about..." She began holding up another outfit, this one a black leather jacket with a cherry red tank top and a pair of tight skinny jeans with lots of zippers sewn into the sides.

"I don't know if I want to dress for cold weather... I mean what if it is super hot at the concert... I mean I don't want to be uncomfortable." She whined, pressing her burning cheeks to the icy comfort of the glass.

Cake rolled her eyes, holding up the third and final outfit. It was a simple pair of black jeans and the Scream Kings logo sprawled across a worn out sweatshirt. She wrinkled her nose at it. "Fiona, this is a date, not a day lounging around the house, you have to at least pretend to try."

Fiona spun around, blinking slowly at her. "Cake, this is not a date. Finn and I are friends. That is it."

"Fiona Baby, can't you see that he is crazy for you?"

Fiona rubbed at her face, anxiety festering in her stomach, creating a euphoric feeling of sinking and floating all at once. She wanted to argue with Cake. To prove to her that her accusations were unsupported, but she knew that Cake had a keener intuition than she let on, and a little part of her wanted Cake's theories to be correct.

"Cake, I don't have time for this. Just help me pick." She moaned, falling back onto the bed once more.

"You have made me do this Fiona Keadersen." Cake warned, picking up her phone from her side table and pressing at the screen.

"Cake what are you..." She began, jumping from the bed and bolting towards her.

Cake smiled sweetly as she gracefully dodged Fiona's half-hearted attempt at stopping her, pressing a finger to her lips and winking as she brought the phone to her ear. "Now, now. Is that anyway for a lady to act?"

Fiona's knees hit the far wall, sending her backwards. Her fuzzy socks on the hardwood floor having once again failed to stop her before she could injure herself. She groaned and sat up, glancing questioningly at Cake, who had began tapping her foot impatiently as the phone continued to ring. After what seemed forever, the recipient finally picked up. Cake's eyes glinted mischievously. "Cake... What are you doing?" Fiona eyed her resentfully from her place on the ground.

"Oh Finny-pooh, I have a little favor to ask..." Cake began, her voice as smooth as silk and twice as soft. This was the voice she used when she was speaking to one of her bosses or her publisher. It was the voice that guaranteed to get her whatever she asked for. The awkward Finn would be powerless against her veteran charms.

"Oh no Cake, you can't!" Fiona growled, lunging at her once more.

Cake danced out of her path seconds before Fiona was able to make contact with her hands. Darting in and out of her reach playfully. All the meanwhile continuing her conversation on the phone.

"Yes Finny, it is me, Cake. And I must request your services..."

"Oh yes, I can wait a few..."

"Oh no Finn, please take your time..."

"I will see you then..."

Her voice as sweet as honey. Cake, why are you doing this to me?

Cake finally pulled the phone from her ear and let Fiona grab it from her. Pulling it towards her chest possessively and then shooting Cake an accusatory glare. Cake simply shrugged and walked from the room, pausing at the doorway, glancing back at her.

"Oh yes, Finn will be here in a few minutes to help you decide. Since you two are "just friends", it should be no problem that he helps you pick out your outfit for the concert tonight." She shot Fiona a mischievous smile before disappearing into the hallway. Her heels clicking towards the living room, waiting for Finn's eminent knock at the door.

Fiona surveyed the mess that had enveloped her room. Glob, did I make this mess?

She began running around her room, picking up the piles and shoving them back into her closet, it wasn't really clean, but at least he couldn't see it. She cursed herself for not running a vacuum over the room. She didn't feel right having the maid, Cake had recently hired upon her return from her business trip, clean up her personal space.

Glob. Glob. Glob...

She continued to dart around her room, shoving more clothes into her now overfilling closet.

Did I just hear footsteps?

Her heart began to race and she slid on the floor as she scooped up the last pile of clothing, quickly shoving them into the now barely-shutting closet. She could swear she heard the doorbell ring.

Damn Cake for doing this to me!

She stumbled, crashing into the side of her quite full laundry hamper on her way towards the door. It wobbled, then tumbled over. The clothing spilling allover the floor next to her bed.

Oh you have to be kidding me... She thought, rushing over to he pile. Maybe I can lock the door and stall Finn for a few moments so I can clean this up... Glancing over to her partly-open door. She got back up, stumbling once again in the process, as she darted to the door, her hand grasping the handle before she felt the other side violently jerk before hurling backwards toward her. With a sickening thump, her face made contact with the door. Throwing her to the floor. Finn peeked over from the other side of the door.

"Fi, are you in here?"

She only groaned in response.

He glanced down at the ground here she laid sprawled out. Fiona, sitting up, now rubbed at her aching forehead.

"My gosh Fi, are you okay?" He knelt down next to her, taking her head in his hands, examining her face from different angles. She didn't fight him, his arms strong and welcoming, the scent of his cologne intoxicating to her. She finally opened her yes, bright little stars flooding her vision as she did so. She smiled, looking at him and batting her eyelashes playfully. "We really need to stop meeting like this." She teased, pushing his hands away and standing up. He remained on the floor, but rocked back onto his heels so he could look up at her.

He smiled happily. "I agree."

"You really don't have to do this..." Crossing her arms over her chest, feeling silly at this whole situation. Oh I could kill Cake right now...

Finn examined the three outfits displayed before him on the bed, but said nothing.

She sighed and began to wander aimlessly around the room, finally coming to rest in her favorite reading chair by the doors that led out to her balcony. She watched Finn intently as he touched the different fabrics and held them up to the light, inspecting them more closely. Finally drawing his hands away and turning to her. "To be honest, I don't really like any of these."

She growled, frustrated that her comrades were so intent on making this experience as miserable as possible.

"However..." He continued, aware of her darkening mood. "I like the black dress from this outfit, the leather jacket from this one, and the shoes from the last one." He pointed to different parts of the three outfits.

Her features relaxed a little and she sat up from her slouching posture in the chair. She had never thought of combing the different parts of the outfits she had always bought directly off the mannequins in the stores Cake had drug her into, but it just seemed to come so naturally to Finn, matching patterns and textures to create a whole different outfit, it was effortless.

"Alright. But you have to go somewhere else while I change." She stated matter-of-factly, beginning to push him towards the door.

"But Fi..." He whined, digging his heels into the floor.

"What?" She continued to shove him towards the door.

"Cake was on the phone when I came in, and from some of the choice language she was whispering into her end as I walked in, it was a pretty... Private conversation. Don't send me out there to embarrass myself." He pleaded.

She slowed her shoves. He's right. It's Friday, and that means Cake is having one of her "meaningful" and a little embarrassing phone dates with her boyfriend abroad... I can't leave Finn to that horror...

"Fine." She huffed, blowing her bangs from her vision. "But you stay in here." She warned.

"Then where will you go?"

She pointed towards her closet. "Don't. Peek." She ordered. "I would hate to screw up that pretty face of yours because you got a little too curious."

He smirked, falling backwards onto the bed. "Like I ever would Fi. You are my friend. I will respect your privacy."

She gave him one last glare before disappearing behind the closed closet doors. He sighed, sinking deeper back into the pillows of her bed, the remaining garments crunching and shifting under his long legs. But the longer he sat there, the more his mind wandered... Unknowingly, his hand began to wander to the top of his pants... WHAT AM I DOING?! He sat up, horrified.

Fiona is mostly naked on the other side of that door... He glanced cautiously towards the closet, as if she was testing him, waiting for him to break his word. But all was silent. No sign of her.

Good... He thought, sitting up and rubbing his neck. I am her friend, I can't confuse her by trying to be more...

"Finn?" She called a little nervously from behind the closed door.

"Hmm?" He replied, slinking down to the floor, his legs sprawled carelessly out in front of him, his back resting against her bed. His hand brushed against a silky midnight blue dress that spilled from a knocked over laundry hamper. He picked it up and examined it. He had seen it before, but where...?

"Finn, can you please help me?" She appeared at the edge of the closet, her hands holding up the unzipped black dress. Her head held at an odd angle peering at him through her lose hair. He blushed a little, standing up and dropping the ripped dress.

She met him half way, her red heels clicking rhythmically and turned her back to him lifting her hair, offering him the zipper. He breathed a little deeper, unaware of how long the zipper was, extending from the top of her hips upwards. He gulped and his breath became wavered, his shaky hand gripped at the zipper, slowly pulling it upwards. Get a hold of yourself man...

Everything went by in slow motion. The individual teeth interlocking together as he slid the golden zipper upwards. He finally pulled a shaky, pale hand from her shoulders, lingering a millisecond too long. He hoped she hadn't noticed.

She flipped her hair back and turned to face him, smiling and thanking him before gliding back to the closet. Pulling her leather jacket from its hiding place inside the closet and walking back over to him. He tried to play it cool, returning to his perch on the floor, pulling the ripped dress back into his lap, playing with the intricate seam work on the bodice. Her whole body tensed as her gaze met the clothing sitting in his lap.

Her heart clenched and her pulse quickened... The dress... That dress... Memories flooded her mind, swirling around her. The sights, sounds, the very taste of the warm, smokey room she had spent that one night in. The night she would never be apart of... Well, never again... She had missed her opportunity, now Bernabon was on the other side of the world, nursing his ailing father and waiting for his chance to snatch the title he was born to bear. She had caught glimpses of him during the news coverage of the tragedy, but mostly quick pans of his face among the entourage of doctors and personal assistants that swirled around his father's bed. As if he were the hive, and they the worker bees. His pink hair once again dull and lifeless, his brows knitted together in worry, a boring gray suit making him look older and so serious. She didn't want to think of Bernabon, or even Gumball, as the lifeless shell her friend had recently become...

Finn looked up at her questioningly. "Fi, is everything okay?"

Her jaw clenched and unclenched. Her heart dropping and rising with the quickening of her pulse. She tried to calm herself, to try to make everything seem moderately normal. Bernabon had moved on, so why couldn't she? He is going to be the head of the largest conglomerate in the world... He will never think about me again... She winced, clutching at her heart.

"Fi..." Finn whispered worriedly, standing up and dashing to her side. Her breathing was uneven. Her eyes began to water, and her body began to shake. Now he remembered, he remembered where he had seen that dress before. It was the one she had worn when she rang her doorbell last Saturday morning, but she had change out of it so quickly that he didn't really remember it until that moment. "Fi, what's the matter?"

I see how this is Bernabon, this is like a disease isn't it? This broken heart? This pain? She doubled over, her forehead touching the glossy wood floors. The atmosphere so thick and silent they could hear each other's heartbeats, the cooing whispers of Cake down the hall. No tears came this time to stab behind her eyes.

And as just as soon as it came, it went. She sat up and pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes, rubbing them in a rhythmic clockwise motion. "Sorry." She mumbled apologetically.

He only smiled and soothingly rubbed her back. "Nobody is perfect."

She wiped her nose on her sleeve. "Well... Aside from you." Her eyes were trusting, so trusting. He felt so guilty for thinking of her in that way...

He stood up, trying to play off her words, trying to pretend like they didn't mean anything to him. Perfect... Am I really perfect? To her?

Suddenly, a phone began to ring. They looked at each other, she only shrugged. Knowing it wasn't her phone. He felt his own pocket, and realized he was the one ringing. Shocked, he pulled it out and glanced at the screen. His blood ran cold as he read the screen, "Dad".

He gulped. "Fi, I have to take this..."

She nodded and he disappeared out onto the balcony, closing the door tightly behind him. She watched him pace around the perimeter for a little bit before closing the curtains in an attempt to give him more privacy. In the meantime she snatched up the ripped dress and the awful reminders it whispered to her and shoved it in the trash bin. Sealing the thoughts away with it. All of a sudden her sock drawer began to vibrate.

You have got to be kidding me...

He shivered in the twilight air. The sun having disappeared below the horizon, now only the quickly deepening swirls of red and blue remained in the sky.

"What is it?" He hissed.

"Now son, is that any way to speak to your old man?" A slurred voice hiccuped from the other end.

"It is when he is drunk. You are interrupting my evening." He continued.

"Oh what? What am I interrupting? Another binge watch of those Chinese action movies you buy by the case?" There was a cruel twinge to the slurs now.

Finn gritted his teeth but remained silent.

"Or did you finally manage to find yourself a nice piece of tail?" He continued.

"If this is the only reason you called, I am going to hang up now..." Finn threatened.

"No, no, no. That won't do!" He screeched.

Finn fished the pack of cigarettes out of his left pocket along with a half-used set of matches. He balanced the phone between his ear and shoulder as he plucked the first available cigarette from the pack and placed it between his teeth, not bothering to tap it against the package, next he struck a match and brought it to the end. On the other end of the line, there was nothing but the sound of rustling papers.

"Finny boy, you still there?" His dad finally reappeared on the line.

"Yes dad, I am here." He drew a deep breath, sucking in the rich fumes of expensive, imported tobacco.

"Good...well I have some big news for ya kiddo..."

She dug through her sock drawer, upon reaching the bottom she was met with the illuminated screen of a Marshall's phone. That's odd... I could have sworn I turned it off when I first put it in there...

There was a message, followed by two more, causing the phone to vibrate wildly. "Alright, alright! I am coming!" She pulled the phone from its confines in the dresser and brought it to her face.

3 New Messages from Marshall

She slid the phone to unlock it, her face reddening as she was met with the... Embarrassing photo he had set as his background. Oh I could kill him...

She clicked on the message icon in the corner of the screen.

Marshall: Hey.

Marshall: Hello?

Marshall: iz anyone there?! D:

She rolled her eyes, slightly amused by his impatience and immaturity. Another message appeared.

Marshall: I can tell u r reading these messages... ( ｀∧´)

She dropped the phone like a hot rock, then quickly picked it back up and began typing.

Fiona: Yesh, can't a girl get any privacy?

Marshall: excuse me if i like to make sure my property is being taken care of

She rolled her eyes, hoping that he was referring to his phone. She knew in her heart that he wasn't, but she was too tired to argue with him.

Fiona: What do you want Marshall?

Marshall: can't a boy talk to a pretty girl once in a while without being judged?

Why was she even responding?

She unlocked the phone once more, getting ready to respond when she heard the door leading to the balcony click open, letting Finn back inside the warmth of her room. She grinned at him, setting the phone down on top of the dresser. "What did your dad have to say?"

He looked solemnly at her, his nose and cheeks kissed with the pinkish tinge of a cold evening. His phone held in his left hand at his side. His eyes scanning the floor with feigned interest.

"Finn, what is it?" She urged.

He said nothing, he simply walked over to her, and stood before her, staring at their shoes.

"I don't want it to be like this." He whispered to the floor.

"Finn..." She looked at him, searching his expression for some hint of an answer.

All at once he scooped her up in his arms and held her tightly to his chest. "I don't want this Fi, I don't want this at all..."

She stopped trying to guess. She simply returned his hug. He meanwhile, nuzzled the slope of her neck, wafting in her rich, woodsy scent. Knowing that everything he treasured most in the world was about to change...

He was first to break from the embrace. She stood there, a little dumbstruck, astounded over how willing her body was to remain in his arms for so long. He looked into her eyes and awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck. "I have to go take care of some stuff before we head out for the concert."

"Okay." She blushed, grinning as he gave her a slight smile and a nod before walking out her door.

"See you in a bit Fi." He winked, trying to act warm and happy.

"Don't be late!" She teased as she heard his footsteps down the hallway and disappear as he walked out the door.

Marshall's phone began to vibrate on her dresser again. A little flustered, she brushed off her dress and flipped her hair, strutting confidently over to the dresser once more and reading the new message.

Marshall: Anyways, i was wondering if u wanted to meet up b4 the concert?

Fiona: I don't know... Don't you have... Warm ups or something like that?

Marshall: Naw, it's not like they can start without me, they live for my command.

She rolled her eyes. Just when I thought he couldn't be anymore conceited...

Fiona: Fine. Meet us at The Treehouse in an hour.

After a few moments he responded.

Marshall: Roger, see u then.

I hope he knows that Finn will be accompanying us this evening...