Disclaimer: Emma doesn't own Highway to Hell, either. Don't sue her, as it would make her cry.

Matt stared dumbly at the woman swimming lazily before him. He couldn't tear his eyes away. Somewhere in the fuzzy reaches of his mind, he realised he was going to be caught. But it made no difference. He was rooted to the spot.

Somersaulting in the water, Mimi finally caught sight of him. Shrieking, she clamped her arms around her nudity. The piercing noise seemed to break him from his paralysis and he quickly averted his eyes. For a long moment Mimi was so shocked, so embarrassed, that words seemed beyond her. But then that moment passed, and she was fuming.

"Why are you here?" she screeched. "Get out! This is my place!"

Matt, in contrast, was as cool and satiny smooth as the water surrounding her. "Actually, this is my place, and you are intruding upon it."

"I am not going anywhere!" she screamed, her tone betraying a note of hysteria.

Matt merely smirked, passing an appraising glance over her naked body. "Fine with me." He hooked a finger through her bra strap, raising the garment into view. "Yours?"

Mimi flushed to crimson. "You… beast! At least turn around and let me get dressed!"

Matt inclined his head to her and spun to face the other direction. He heard the smooth sounds of her swimming to the edge, and the drippy-splashing noise of her hoisting herself out. He stood very resolutely with his back turned, but couldn't resist just one little peek.

… Damn. She had a fine body to go with that sharp tongue.

When she was fully clothed, she went back to dangling only her feet in the water. Haughtily, she ignored Matt's presence altogether. And then, for some inexplicable reason, Matt joined her. He wasn't exactly sure what he was trying to achieve. This was Mimi Tachikawa. He knew her. Snooty, demanding Princess Mimi. Sitting on her throne and ordering everyone else around as if they were her slaves.

He supposed, honestly, he felt a little sorry for her. When you are on top you have a long way to fall, and nobody you can truly trust to catch you. And then there was something else, too. When he'd first laid eyes on her, he'd seen someone completely different. Someone terribly ill-equipped for the harsh realities of royal status.

She'd been fragile, ethereal and vulnerable as she let the water slip around her. Achingly pure and untouched. She looked exposed, her true face finally caught without its mask. Before she could raise her defences and pull the old act back around her. Unprotected and utterly… naked.

And Matt couldn't deny that he was attracted to her. To whoever she was.

And so he'd kicked off his shoes and sat down next to her. She merely turned her head away, nose in the air, and refused to acknowledge him.

"You looked better without your clothes on." He said, trying for a reaction.

She coloured, turning to set a glare of pure hatred on him. "How tactless of you to remind me." She said icily.

Matt could only laugh as he changed tack. "What are you doing here anyway?"

Mimi stared at the boy next to her. She knew him. He was Matt Ishida and he attended her school. But they didn't exactly run in the same circles. He was handsome enough to fit in with Michael's gang, she supposed, with his icy blue eyes and soft blonde bunny feet hair. But he'd never seemed interested. He had his group of friends - members of his band - and he appeared content with that arrangement. It made him extremely hard to categorise. Was he below the social strata or above it? Or just beyond it? It was most perplexing.

Eventually she just looked away. Answering his question was probably harmless. "If you must know, my boyfriend broke up with me this morning. I came here to think about things. What are you doing here?"

"My band has a huge gig two days from now, and I can't write any new music. This place has always inspired me in the past."

Mimi was surprised at how readily he volunteered this information. The conversation was becoming too personal, too deep. She struggled to bring it back to the level of light banter.

"Oh. Well… you could always write a song about me."

Matt rolled his eyes. "Someone already has, Mi. It's called Highway to Hell. Perhaps you've heard of it?"

Mimi seemed supremely unfazed by this insult. She merely replied coolly, "You know, you're not as witty as you think you are."

"And you, Princess, are not as perfect as you think you are."

"… I don't think I'm perfect," Mimi replied, her voice little louder than a whisper. "I never have."

Matt hadn't meant offence with his remark. Nothing serious at any rate. And yet, when he stole a sideways glance over at her, he saw that he'd really hurt her. She looked sad, defeated. As vulnerable as she'd seemed when he'd first chanced upon her. In that moment, she reminded him of the Mimi he'd known as a child, or even just a few short years ago. Someone he remembered so hazily that it might have been a dream. Someone sweet and sincere and easily wounded by the ills of the world.

"Do you hate me?" she blurted unexpectedly.

Matt wasn't sure what kind of answer you were meant to give to such a question. "… No?" he experimented.

Mimi just hung her head lower. "Of course you do. Why would you like me? Even I don't like me."

"You don't have to be the person that everyone expects you to be," said Matt, a little disconcerted by the sharp turnarounds in her personality. "Just be yourself."

Mimi could feel a stinging heat behind her eyes. She struggled to blink it away. She never cried in public, and she refused to cry now. But it was in a choked, husky voice that she answered. "I don't know how…"

Matt thought for a moment. Turning to look at her properly, he was hypnotised by the kaleidoscopic emotion in her eyes. As if in a dream, he placed his hand gently on her shoulder. She let out something like a whimper as he gently grazed his fingers towards the centre of her back.

And then he pushed.

She tumbled forwards, landing in the water with a graceless splash. Emerging moments later, she was coughing up water and spluttering with rage.

"What… why… how… MATT!"

But Matt was standing. He dropped his jeans and shrugged off his t-shirt. Dressed in only his satin boxers, he dove into the clear cool water. He rose only inches from where Mimi was furiously treading water.

"To be yourself, you have to wash away all the façade. The make-up, the clothes… the attitude. Be true to only your deepest desires. Ignore what the fashion magazines and the television and even what your friends say you want. Listen to your feelings and let your intuition tell you what's best."

His voice was soft and low, oddly melodic, and his eyes never fell from her face. She was intoxicated by his presence.

And so for once in her life she stopped to listen to her intuition. And it was screaming at her, loud and clear. There was only one course of action, only one thing that seemed logical.

So she kissed him.

The second her lips touched his, it came to him. Like someone had opened his creative floodgates. A whole song, ready and packaged, just waiting to be scribbled out onto music sheets. There was a guitar opening - then come the drums - and the keyboard. All the music was there. Chords, riffs, they all meshed. Rhymes worked and rhythms fitted. This song would save him and his band; of that he was completely confident.

Seconds, minutes or possibly hours later they split apart, each staring at the other in shock.

Sorry. This should have gone up earlier, with the first two chapters. But I've just had minor surgery, and you know what it's like. All fun and games until the anaesthetic wears off. So yeah. Next chapter coming soon!

Emma's facts about nothing in particular

Ever year, Americans spend close to 25 billion dollars on beer.