Lynette should have known that Shelby agreeing to try to watch her favourite show with her had a catch, but she did not know that he would be that cruel. He saw him laughing at some of the scenes, even if he does not admit it!

After they finished their little charade as husband and wife and decided to have an actual relationship, it had been agreed that they needed to know each other more intimately. The best way to do that, the pink-haired woman foolishly suggested, was to experience each other's hobbies and interests. One weekend, they would do something that she liked together, and the next they would enjoy an interest of his.

It is a fair compromise, or at least it would be, if they had not such different conceptions of a fun time. Lynette was, in regard to her cultural interests, not much different from a seven-year-old child, as she enjoyed the colourful and excitable phenomena of human activity, the sort of rose-tinted living that she consumed in movies and TV at Celestia.

Meanwhile, true to his questionnaire sheet, Shelby was mainly concerned with high-brow and terribly austere things, that would give him ample opportunity to "increase his status", as it were. He would find enjoyment through socialising with businesspeople and investors, as well as increase his repertoire in subjects proper to the fine conversations, such as fine art and classical music.

Every weekend, it was a dispute. Both parties would accuse the other of trying to torture or otherwise have belated revenge for some perceived ill or another from the week before. They both thought that they were the one making the greatest sacrifice, and so their compromise was always on the brink of collapse.

Lynette is well-aware of their ongoing quagmire and, if she had known the catch was him trying to teach her how to golf, of all things, she might not have tried so hard to have him watch TV for sixteen hours over the weekend.

Her boyfriend, however, was unphased.

"Lynette, I watched that stupid show of yours from start to finish, without any complaint." He leans against her bedroom's doorway, looking sternly at her while she sat on her bed, actively resisting the proposal. "These are not the terms of our agreement."

She lifted her eyebrow. "Without complain? Shelby, you bemoaned your fate throughout Friday. I have the business emails to prove it."

"Well, I didn't complain during the show." He offered. "Now, let's go, put on a pair of pants. We will rent the shoes and the equipment at the club."

"For all that is good and holy, Shelby! Don't make me spend my whole weekend playing golf! It's so boring!" The psychologist whines, pouting at him in hopes he would let it go and offer to do something else instead.

Oh, how she rues bemoaning her fate in watching that awful penguin documentary! She would gladly watch three hours of birds fighting for pebbles again, if it saved her from playing a full round of golf.

"Your show was boring, too." He says instead, dashing her hopes. "I do not know whether this is a matter of pride, but Lynette Mirror and the Six Princes of Los York is insufferably boring."

Lynette gasps, offended. "Take that back!"

"Of course not! It's the truth!" Shelby argued back.

"We should make a sincere effort to enjoy each other's hobbies, you tasteless creep!" She shouted at him. "And Lynette Mirror and the Six Princes of Los York is a damn masterpiece!"

"If we are to enjoy each other's hobbies, then you should go golfing with me!" He shouted back. "Golf is my hobby!"

"No!" She screams petulantly. "How can you like golfing?!"

He scoffs. "How can you like your boring show?!"

"Liking it, Shelby! I like it because I like it." The woman sneered.

"Well, so do I. Go golfing with me." The platinum blond man demands.

Lynette stares at her boyfriend, knowing very well that the stubborn man is not going to cave, but wondering if it is worth it to keep resisting.

"Come on, it will be fun. We can spend the entire Saturday together, and I will be right there to teach you if you have difficulty with anything or if you get too tired in the sun. It will be no different from any other date we had in the park." Shelby argued, since he knows he will never be able to win his girlfriend over with impassionate arguments. "I remember that you said how much you enjoyed it when you went to minigolf with Claris and Gill. It is basically the same, but bigger."

He pushes off the doorway, walking over to sit on the edge of the bed next to her.

"You will love it, I promise." He leans in, kissing her slow and smooth and very, very convincingly.

She sighs when he pulls away, giving in. "Okay, fine. We can go golfing."


About an hour later Lynette and Shelby were at the golf course, all ready to begin to play.

It had been a long drive out of the city and into the suburbs, as the club was located an hour north, near a wealthy neighbourhood, where the sort of people her boyfriend wanted to impress spent their summers. It was, in fact, the sort of place where she would think that the old and elusive figure of Mrs. Snail would spend most of her time.

She hated it. Not that it was not beautiful, or that the weather was not nicer than downtown, but, to her, it was almost like someone wanted to reproduce Celestia, but had too much of a gaudy taste. Everything was exaggerated and tasteless, even if it exuded prestige and privilege.

After the necessary greetings to their fellow golfers, and a lemonade drink at the bar, the couple walked down to the course entrance. The wives sitting on the club veranda observed with admiration how they went to play together.

They are dressed to the nines. Shelby done up in his adorable golfing outfit: pink polo, white shorts, golfing gloves and clean spiked shoes, with him carrying both of their equipment bags. Lynette had refused to carry her own, saying it was his punishment for making her play golf, which he agreed, just as long she would not be much more difficult that afternoon.

He got her set up at the first tee box, and decided that it would be best if he demonstrates how to swing first, so that his clumsy girlfriend would know what to do when it came to be her turn. Not to mention, if he corrects the force of her shot, it would be that less likely for her to cause some sort of accident.

Much to his chagrin, however, at the same time he was demonstrating how to hit the golf ball, a very beautiful bird flew by, catching her attention. Her eyes followed the bird, and all her senses honed in on it so she completely missed everything he said and did.

"Lynette?" The blond man called her name. "Are you listening to me?"

She snaps her undivided attention back to him, looking at her boyfriend's annoyed expression with an air of confusion.

"What?" The pink-haired woman asked, innocently.

Shelby sighs, jutting out his hip and placing his hand on it. She holds back a smirk. She knows that it must be some sort of standard position for golfers, and so he is doing so seriously, but it still looks ridiculous and funny.

"I was showing you how to swing the club, and you weren't paying attention." He admonishes.

He suddenly moves forward, grabbing her wrist and pulling her into him. He situates her in front of the tee, pressing his back to her front and placing her hands around the handle of the golf club, under his.

"Are you paying attention now?" He says near her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

His hands are so much larger than hers that, when he wraps them around the handle of the golf club over her hands, he completely makes them disappear. He begins to speak to Lynette again about golf but her mind is wandering, this time not about birds but instead about his hands, his fingers…

"Again, Lynette?!" He snaps. "Pay attention!"

The woman is lost in her own thoughts.