Drama Llamas

Sora stared at Matt over the edge of her menu. It was another date that no one called a date, in a restaurant near campus with walls covered with random bric-a-brac. They were seated at a booth for two, a space so intimate that their legs brushed beneath the table. A globular lamp decorated with stained glass autumn leaves provided dim light.

"You're staring," Matt accused, not lifting his eyes from his menu. "See something you like?" Sora couldn't see the lower half of his face, but she pictured his smirk with perfect clarity. As always, his cockiness set off explosion of feelings: disbelief, delight, irritation, frustration, pleasure. And, above all, a rising sense of challenge. If he was going to be impossible, then she could be, too.

Sora would never admit it, but she adored that invitation to play, to eschew maturity.

"The dessert on the back of your menu looks amazing." And, when his eyes flicked to hers, wide with surprise, she licked her lips. His leg twitched against hers, and Sora could no longer contain the smile tugging at her cheeks. Matt cleared his throat, shifted in his seat, and fell silent.

I wish Mimi saw that. She'd be so proud. Sora made fast friends with Mimi, and already had a decent understanding of her personality and strengths. If Mimi wanted a dinner to shift into a certified date, Sora knew she was confident and direct enough to make it happen. She envisioned what Mimi might do or say, but wasn't convinced that she could pull it off.

Sora and Matt had been dancing around romance for nearly a month, feeling each other out, trying to decide if a relationship was worth the risk and vulnerability. It was like a game, an infuriating, wonderful game. Despite the fact that Matt was sometimes frustrating, that he sometimes hid behind a cool, arrogant performer's persona, and that his emotions could overwhelm him… She wanted him. His talent and appearance were draws, yes. But the depth of caring that he seemed so desperate to mask was what held her in his orbit.

The trouble was, Sora didn't know how to naturally shift the conversation towards romance. Surely, it would be awkward to blurt questions about his love life? Without realizing it, she began to shift, forgetting that Matt could feel her movements in the tiny booth.

"You alright?" Matt asked. He folded his menu, placed it on the table, and brushed his fingertips over her knuckles. Sora noticed the calluses on his digits, tiny, hardened spots that tickled just a little.

"I'm fine." Matt raised an eyebrow and smiled. Tell me another one, his face seemed to say, and Sora felt herself coloring. It seemed like Matt was learning how to catch her at lying, as well.

Sora averted her face, sighed, and pulled her legs in, trying to find some air in a space that suddenly felt hot and stuffy. The waitress appeared, and they gave their drink orders. The young woman placed her hand on Matt's shoulder, but he failed to react. She hovered by their booth before leaving, glancing back over her shoulder twice, looking distinctly interested.

Maybe Sora should have been annoyed, but, well... The waitress had eyes, and Matt was uncommonly handsome. If anything, the stranger's interest reminded Sora of the urgency of her position. Somewhere along the line, she had succeeded in seeing Matt as a normal guy, no different than, say, Tai. This was largely due to watching him try to be cool, a ridiculous habit that humanized him. But he was a desirable guy, and now she wasn't sure if growing this comfortable with him was a good idea. Was it wise to forget the size of the fish she was attempting to reel in?

But Matt was still giving her that infuriatingly knowing look, and he was going to think she had gone daft if she didn't respond. She said the first thing that came to mind, which happened to be the truth. "I'm sorry. I just... I want to ask you something personal, and I'm not sure how to say it, or if I even should."

"Yeah? Ask me anything." Matt lifted an arm and balanced his elbow on the top of the booth. Sora caught herself staring and glanced away. He always looked like he was posing for a photo- but she doubted he did it on purpose. He was just so stupidly good-looking that it seemed like someone should be taking his picture.

Sora gave herself a mental shake, desperate to focus. The waitress returned with their drinks, using Matt's shoulder to steady herself as she placed his cup in front of him. But, miraculously, Matt still didn't react; his gaze remained on her eyes, waiting for her question.

When the waitress left, Sora cleared her throat, staring at her twiddling fingers. "C-can I ask about your love life?" Matt's stupid eyebrow flew right back up. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to," she added hastily.

"I don't mind." Matt shrugged and worked the surprise off his face with obvious effort. Then he leaned towards her, entwining his fingers, echoing her posture. "You know I'm single, right? And you are, too. Amy mentioned that. I think she was teasing me."

Sora nodded as her foot began tapping, taking a life of its own. She knew what Matt was implying. There was no reason for Amy to tell Matt that she was single… Unless, of course, Matt indicated interest in her. Suddenly, it was far, far too hot in the restaurant. The skin on her arms flushed- Sora couldn't bear to imagine what her face looked like. Stop it!, she ordered her body, as if she could control its autonomous reactions.

Sora took a deep, wobbly breath, then released it in a frustrated rush when the waitress approached. She tried to start a conversation with Matt, but his responses to anything unrelated to his order were so brusque that she soon gave up. Sora hid a smile by taking a drink. Suddenly, it was as if Izzy sat opposite her, oblivious to the intentions of the people around him, and rather annoyed at what he did register. Her smile grew as she wondered what Amy would say if she knew that Izzy spent enough time in their room for Sora to predict his behavior.

When they were alone again, Sora crossed her arms, begging her body to calm and relax. "I am single." She paused, trying to steel herself to say something bold, but Matt beat her to the punch.

"What kind of guy do you like?" He spoke evenly, more or less, but his gaze was just to the side of her eyes- and the muscles in his face seemed tight, almost rigid. Sora hugged her upper body, unsure of how to answer, barely able to parse the question.

"I... don't know," she said at last. "Don't laugh, but... I've never dated."

Those tense facial muscles twitched, and Matt almost looked like he might sneeze. "No way. You? You must have driven everyone crazy."

Sora snorted, but grinned. "That's the pot calling the kettle black," she pointed out.

Matt's astonishment faded as he shrugged. "I dated a bit in high school. It was never serious." He made a dismissive hand gesture that Sora associated with both him and Amy. She wondered which of them picked it up from the other.

After some hesitation, Sora asked, "Can I ask why not?" Maybe Matt just hadn't clicked with anyone yet. If there was ever a time to casually date, learning how to flirt and interact with people in a romantic way with low stakes, it was high school. But if Matt's approach to romance was casual, noncommittal… Sora wasn't sure if she was looking for that.

She ignored the uncomfortable follow up thought, which suggested that she didn't know what she was looking for, or what she was doing, or how she had ended up in this increasingly difficult conversation.

Matt shifted, and his legs slid against hers. He sighed and held his hands out. "We weren't looking for the same thing." Cryptic, evasive, accompanied by increasingly shy body language. It seemed that Matt was roughly as comfortable as she was.

"What were you looking for?" Sora asked- somewhat uncharitably, given her own confusion on the topic. Matt rubbed the back of his neck and glanced away, a perfect picture of unease. Sora opened her mouth, intending to retract the question, but he held a hand out, palm-forward.

"It's fine. I don't mind answering. I just..." He cleared his throat, and traces of color appeared on his cheeks. "Look, don't laugh."

"I won't," she breathed. Sora leaned closer, resting her forearms against the table, too absorbed to realize how close they were.

Matt breathed slowly, deeply, from the diaphragm, which Sora now knew was a singing thing. He grimaced and looked away, staring at an old movie poster on the wall. "I want… Ugh, this is going to sound so whiny."

Sora held his wrist and shook her head fiercely. Amy mentioned that Matt rarely let anyone past his cool exterior. She smiled, trying to encourage him. Matt managed a rueful grin, but his eyes remained doubtful.

"I know how this sounds, okay? But, for years now… Girls have liked me on sight. And when The Teenage Wolves took off, it got ridiculous. Girls asked me out even if they had never spoken to me, if they didn't know anything about me beyond my music and what I look like. I tried dating, but… I don't know. It always felt so… performative. Like the girls were advertising the relationship more than participating in it. I felt like a, a… trophy. I wanted…"

Sora shifted even closer, as if her nearness would entice the rest of Matt's trailing sentence. He was entirely red now, with moisture dotting his forehead, looking anywhere but at her face.

"I'm sorry," Sora murmured. "I didn't mean to bring up something difficult."

"No, I- I think you should know. I, um, the relationships I was finding- they weren't what I wanted. I wanted… Well, I wanted someone to… see me. And… You know. Like it."

Matt drew abruptly back, grimacing. "God, listen to me. I sound like a young adult romance character." He tried to laugh, but any signs of amusement died after the first half-hearted chuckle. There was a long silence, and Sora knew he was watching her, gauging her reaction. To be honest, she wasn't sure what she thought of his speech. But she had to respond, so she let her breath form words of its own volition, like clouds forming images in the sky.

"I think I understand where you're coming from," she murmured. "What's the point of being in a relationship where your partner isn't interested in you as a person? But… you don't make it easy to get to know you. You say that people aren't trying to understand you, but then you put a wall between yourself and everyone else. You can't have it both ways."

Matt opened his mouth, reconsidered, and closed it again. A muscle worked in his jaw, but still, he was silent, looking stunned- and maybe a bit affronted. Sora froze, mortified. Why, after somehow convincing Matt to open up, had she opted to criticize him? She knew she had a point, but why elect herself the bearer of unsettling-but-needed-news?

"I'm sorry," she said, dropping her face into her hands. "That was so rude."

She glanced through her fingers and watched Matt slowly release a breath. "No, I… Maybe it is hard to get to know me. Maybe it always has been- or maybe it got worse around when my band blew up… Maybe it was easier to step back myself than to wonder if I wasn't worth… getting to know."

"Of course you are. Everyone is- and I really want to get to know you." Only after the words rushed out did Sora realize that she was offering herself as what Matt said he wanted- someone who intended to date him for his personality, not his celebrity and appearance. Heat rushed to her face, and she babbled, as if new words would push the older ones away. "But- um- I hope you don't mind my saying so- It's almost like you have two sides, sometimes?"

Sora didn't know how to verbalize it, but essentially, there was Matt the performer and Matt the person. The performer was charismatic, cool, and confident to the point of arrogance. Slowly, she was learning that the person was devoted by nature, and emotional to the point where he often didn't know how to handle it. Steadfast and messy, endearingly impossible, impossibly endearing.

Matt slumped against the booth cushions, as if they were all that held him upright. "I'm not trying to be… fake? When you perform, you're- well, performing. Putting on a show. And, I guess, as more people approached me as a performer, even offstage, maybe the performing started to… leak in?"

And, for the first time, Sora wondered… What was it like to be locally famous during high school? To have the same kids sitting around you during class cheering at your show a few hours later? Sora couldn't imagine it- but it sounded like the lines between musician Matt and teenager Matt had blurred, maybe to the point where he felt the need to perform in his everyday life. When his stage personality showed, was he putting on a mask? Or had it become a genuine part of him?

"Is it off-putting?" Matt asked.

"Not at all," Sora replied, with a warmth that surprised even her. "I said I wanted to get to know you, right? If that's a part of you, then it's a part of you." Matt examined her face. He must have accepted her words as truth, because he allowed himself a cocky smile. Just like that, the atmosphere returned to normal, and Sora was so pleased that she hardly noticed the waitress delivering their food.

They ate, easing their hunger. Then, so suddenly that Sora almost spilled her drink with surprise, Matt reopened the conversation. "You didn't say what you're looking for in a relationship. And why you didn't date in high school."

Sora sighed and took a long drink of water. Nerves wrangled in her chest, as loud and obnoxious as someone shaking a keyring, but she couldn't ignore Matt's questions after receiving his answers. "Could you keep this between us? I don't mean to generalize, but westerners tend not to understand."

Matt's brow rose. "Sure," he said, frowning quizzically. Sora grinned at his puzzled expression.

"Please, don't freak out- and don't judge. The reason why I asked to move in with my father in the states in middle school is because... My mother, in Japan... She wants me to take on her family's business. That means I have to learn ikebana- that's flower arrangement. I'd also have to marry her business partner's son."

At which point, Matt dropped his fork, which clattered on his plate. "I asked you not to freak out," Sora muttered.

Matt rearranged his face into a neutral expression with visible effort. "I'm not," he said, his voice comically high. Sora smiled despite herself. She paused, giving him the opportunity to do what everyone did when they heard the phrase 'arranged marriage': talk about how unfair and cruel her parents must be, without bothering to ask her opinion first. But Matt just watched her, waiting for her to go on. Some of the tension dripped out of Sora's shoulders.

"I know arranged marriages are uncommon and villainized in the states. But they're common in other parts of the world, although the popularity is decreasing in Japan. And, overall, they seem to be equally successful or more successful than the average love marriage." She took a deep breath, trying to think of another way to defend herself, not realizing that she was being- well, defensive.

"Sora," Matt said gently. "I understand. Different places have different ways of doing things."

"Thanks," Sora sighed. "It gets old, trying to make people understand that I'm not being tortured with this. My mother would like it if I followed in her footsteps, but she isn't pressuring me. It's just an option I have. When I found out about it years ago, I decided that the best thing to do would be to explore and experience, to discover what other options I might have."

"So you're having a look at other possibilities," Matt summarized, and she nodded, grateful that he understood. "That sounds smart."

"I'm lucky. Everyone's been very supportive. I want to be a fashion designer, but… That's a difficult road. Not many people make it. At least I know that, if I fail, I have this other life waiting for me. Ikebana is interesting, and the man I would be marrying is kind. That's why I'm careful with my love life."

Matt sat back in the booth, considering her words. "Because, if you fall in love, and it sticks, then… That option might be gone for you?"

"Yes," Sora said, nodding. Then, she summoned all of her courage and looked him in the eye, doing her best to keep her voice level. "But, I'm willing to be flexible if I find someone worth taking a chance on."

Matt stared, looking shocked- then mesmerized. His fingers drummed nervously on the table, but he forced them to stop. Then he smiled, a mixture of arrogance and boyish delight. Sora's stomach fluttered, causing a floating sensation that had her gripping the table for safety.

And, somehow, she knew that this wonderful, frustrating game would soon end.

XXX

"So, that's when I remembered that mitochondria are transferred specifically from mother to child." Amy sat on the floor with Shauna in a hallway in the PAC, paging through her biology textbook to double check answers from her first college midterm. She and Joe flipped out preparing for it, spending hours bent over their notes and textbooks, snapping at anyone who dared interrupt them. The test was easier than anticipated. So far, it seemed that she had answered everything correctly, down to the extra credit questions.

"Oh, God." Amy noticed Shauna's exasperated tone and colored, realizing that she was coming off as bragging. She hadn't meant to, but after working so hard to prepare for a test, she couldn't help wanting to talk about her success. Still, she knew from experience that people were touchy about academic achievements.

"Sometimes you remind me of a guy I used to date," Shauna continued, and Amy breathed a sigh of relief. Reminding Shauna of someone was far preferable to insulting her by bragging. "He was such a nerd, you would not believe it." Shauna glanced up from her script and rolled her eyes.

"Ah," Amy said, grinning. "Yes, well, I have the capacity to geek." If Shauna knew that she was quoting Scott Pilgrim, she gave no indication, and Amy mourned the lost opportunity.

Shauna's full lips contorted into an attractive frown. "Hmm... But you know how to talk to people. It isn't obvious right away that you're nerdy."

Amy shrugged, unsure of where this was going. "I'm a geek, but I don't have social difficulties. Although I guess my pool of conversation topics with most people is smaller, since I'm not into television or sports. Why, does it matter?" Amy was aware that some people looked down on nerdy types, but she didn't understand why. Nerds often had interesting things to say.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Shauna said. She looked amused, although Amy wasn't sure why. "It's just, this boy? You would not believe him. Nerdiness just, like, rolled off him, it was unbelievable." She shook her head and laughed, and the pair of expensive sunglasses perched on her head reflected sunlight shining through the glass wall at her back.

Amy frowned. She was growing uncomfortable with how Shauna spoke of this poor nerdy soul, but she wasn't sure if they were close enough for her to object. Instead, she asked a question that she hoped would help her understand Shauna's perspective. "If you dislike nerds so much, why did you date him?"

Shauna's smile transformed into a smirk. "There were… Circumstances." She twirled her hand theatrically, no doubt enjoying her small audience's attention.

Cryptic much? Amy considered potential interpretations, then voiced the one that seemed most likely. "He was really cute?" She didn't approve of that as a sole reason to date someone, but she understood that people could be drawn to one another by attraction alone.

But Shauna leaned forward and laughed, and that husky sound had Amy inching closer. Her own speaking voice was clear and sweet, like water tripping over stones, like a little bird darting in flight. Shauna's was dark, irresistible, and shining, like a summer night. Finally, that alluring laughter ceased, and Amy blinked and shifted back to her original position, baffled by her own behavior.

"God, no!" Shauna gasped. "Maybe he could have been decent looking, if he gained some weight and grew a foot or so, or if he didn't always look so annoyed. He was like a little scarecrow."

Amy fought not to grimace. She glanced left and right, checking if anyone was eavesdropping. She didn't want to be noticed listening to someone say such cruel things with such obvious enjoyment. That poor boy

But it only got worse. "And don't get me started on his night moves," Shauna continued. She ran her fingers through her thick black hair, smiling in a pitying way.

"I'm not," Amy pointed out. She hid her face in her textbook, hoping that Shauna would sense her discomfort and change the subject.

No such luck. "He was so… mechanical. No creativity. No passion." She shuddered, but her expression morphed into a smirk. "Couldn't complain about his endurance, though."

Woooow. Too much info, much? Amy tried to clear her horrified expression, which was visible in the glass behind Shauna. "I don't understand," she said, shifting her gaze to a diagram of an enzyme reacting with a substrate. "If you didn't like him personally, and you weren't attracted to him, why did you sleep with him?"

"Amy. Sweetheart." Shauna's tone was sweet and warm, and Amy nearly dropped her book. Instead, she closed it and lowered it to her lap, then colored as Shauna's lips curved into a gentle smile. "You're a virgin, right?"

Heat flooded Amy's face. Shauna gazed into her eyes, and it was like staring into space, inky darkness speckled with dazzling light. And then there was her voice, electric, carrying whispers of the promise of unknown pleasures.

"N-no, I…" Amy's horrified, shamed denial died on her lips. She couldn't get into this, not on the floor in the PAC's hallway, not with someone she barely knew.

She stared helplessly into Shauna's eyes, until the girl produced one of her low, enticing laughs. "I thought so. If you weren't, maybe you'd understand." She winked, grinned, and added, "Anyway, he was smart. If nothing else, he could learn- and I taught him plenty."

Amy remained mute, dazed and overstimulated, not knowing how to behave- and wondering why Shauna hadn't heard her no. Shauna perused her script for a while, then sighed. In a voice more melancholic than Amy had ever heard from her, she said, "But here's the weird thing. Sometimes? Sometimes, I miss him. He was good to me, in his way. Starting college, having this whole new life, it can be hard, you know? I guess it can make you miss things you took for granted."

Amy made an indistinct sound in her throat. She was far too overwhelmed to respond, but she hoped that this mystery boy wouldn't find his way back to Shauna.

XXX

Izzy was alone in his dorm room in the afternoon, grumpily programming. It was the worst type of assignment- easy, but long, busy work at its most infuriating. His brain kept drifting to more interesting topics, which drew out the process further. Usually, he was annoyed when someone knocked on the door, but right now, the distraction was welcome.

But, halfway to the door, Izzy remembered that Joe and Amy were in a lab period together, which meant that his visitor was not a preferred person. Frowning, Izzy put an eye to the peephole and saw Mimi. He considered not answering, but then, Mimi would likely leave when he told her that Joe wasn't here.

At least she isn't carrying a potential torture device. He allowed himself an enormous grimace before straightening his expression and opening the door.

"Hey, Izzy!" Mimi waved and grinned, all good cheer and pink sundress.

Izzy placed himself in the doorway, blocking access. "I'm afraid Joe isn't in."

Mimi's smile shifted to scowl. "I know. He's in his orgo lab." She edged closer, and Izzy fought the urge to step back, which would clear the way for her. "Are you gonna let me in, or what?"

"Did you need something from me?" Izzy's tone was polite, but he lifted an eyebrow skeptically. Mimi crossed her arms and stared down at him (she, like most people, including many girls, was taller than him). She placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed, edging him out of the way. She stopped in the middle of the room, as if staking claim. Sighing, Izzy closed the door and joined her.

"You really are a hermit." Mimi slapped something rectangular and flat against her hip, making an agitated tapping noise.

Deuce! She is armed! This time, Izzy couldn't help but back away. But Mimi made no move to threaten him, or even enter his personal space. She continued her lecture, not noticing his spike in discomfort.

"Do you think you can date one of my girls if you can't even be nice to her friends?!"

Izzy froze, too overwhelmed to respond. There were so many things he wanted to correct in that statement that he didn't know where to begin. Just because I don't fawn over you doesn't mean I'm unkind. I let you in, I'm listening. Furthermore, Amy chooses with whom she associates, not you. And, finally, I'm not interested in dating her, thank you. The words were there, but Mimi had a way of overloading his processing system. All Izzy could do was cover his face with his palm and groan.

Mimi's posture shifted, softened. She smiled gently and placed her hands on his shoulders. "Aww, hey. It's okay! You obviously like her a lot; that gets you lots of points. Just try not to be so... prickly."

Izzy lifted his head so quickly that his neck cracked. "I, I obviously what?!" he demanded, stepping back, out of Mimi's hold.

Mimi blinked, then pressed a hand to her mouth and giggled. "Aww, you are so shy, Izzy! That's adorable!" She patted his head, as if he were a dog who had sat on command, and Izzy bristled. He wanted to object, or at least grump, but she was already moving on. "And look, just to show that there are no hard feelings, I brought you a present!" She held out the rectangle, which turned out to be a DVD case.

Don't show interest. But, of course, Izzy's curiosity spiked. What kind of DVD could Mimi possibly want to show him? As far as he knew, they didn't share a single interest. Although he wanted to remain prickly, as Mimi put it, he reached for the DVD. "What is this?"

Mimi grinned, clearly enjoying his interest in her offering. "My old high school- the one Amy went to- made and sold videos of their theater productions. Amy was in the spring musical with the drama club every year. She mailed me a copy of her last two shows, since I moved away and couldn't watch them. This is the one from just a few months ago, in senior year. They did Beauty and the Beast. Amy was Belle." Mimi drew herself up proudly, as if she had played Belle, and Izzy begrudgingly allowed that he admired her devotion to her friends. But that thought was buried beneath another, more dangerous, one.

"Amy was in the drama club?" Was it possible to be seasick on land, without moving at all? Izzy had had his fill of actresses- and then some.

"Just half of the year," Mimi said, confused at his sudden change in demeanor. "She only did he musicals. Anyway, you should watch this, so you can see how great she is. Then tell her allllll about it!" Mimi winked, turned with a pretty, skirt-fluttering twirl, and stepped towards the door.

"Wait," Izzy called, and Mimi smiled, gratified by his attention. "Thank you. And, may I ask why you've gone from threatening me to..." Izzy paused, unsure of how to label this encounter.

"You're welcome. And what can I say- I love to tease!" She winked, which seemed to signal that she was keeping her intentions to herself. "Give the DVD back before the semester ends. I only have the one copy."

"Understood. I'll watch it now and return it this evening." Maybe he could chug through this asinine programming assignment faster with a secondary stimulus for his brain to absorb.

"No rush," Mimi said, shrugging. "See you!" Then she shut the door and was gone.

Izzy took a deep breath, locked the door, and returned to his desk. He popped the case open and inserted the disk in his computer's DVD tray. Soon, he was programming, stopping every once in a while to watch the play, mostly tuning it out when Amy wasn't singing. He especially enjoyed the opening song ("Look, there she goes, that girl is strange, no question! Dazed and distracted, can't you tell?").

Amy's acting was mediocre, fine for a student having fun, but nothing that left an impression. That eased the discomfort that had been building since Mimi mentioned the drama club. But, when she sang, Izzy was unable to do anything but listen. Her voice, her expressions, her ability to inject emotion into sound… He watched, transfixed, hardly able to believe that this was Amy, the girl who had snorted soda out of her nose when he walked off a cliff playing Mass Effect, then hopped around the room, cradling her face and cursing as the carbonation burned her sinuses. How could he reconcile this focused, confident, talented girl with the spacey, clumsy, often frightened one he knew?

After each of her songs, he shook his head, as if to forcibly return to the rational world, then programmed until the next one. By the time the play ended, he had finished his assignment, and he watched the thespians take their bows. The footage continued after the stage cleared, capturing parents and friends congratulating the actors. Amy parted the curtain in the background while the camera focused on Gaston and his family in the foreground, still wearing a yellow gown from the final scene. She moved towards the edge of the stage, and Tai's bushy hair appeared in front of the camera. The person filming adjusted the shot in time to capture Tai helping her off the stage. He pulled her into a one-armed hug and gave her a noogie. She protested and smacked his arm, laughing all the while.

Matt appeared behind Tai, rolling his eyes and ordering Tai to free her. Another blond, blue-eyed boy was beside Matt, holding hands with a brunette girl who shared Amy's skin tone. Another boy approached, carrying a bouquet of flowers.

Izzy focused, wondering who this newcomer was. There was no family resemblance to suggest that he was related to someone, and Tai and Matt's siblings seemed to be accounted for already. The boy's hair was sandy brown and curly, and his eyes were icy blue, like a husky's. He had a prominent, square-shaped jaw, and a high, square forehead. A hyper masculine face, except, perhaps, for the thin lips, which were pulled back in an over-sized smile.

"Ames!" he cried, bodily pushing past Matt and Tai. "You were incredible!" He swept her up, lifting her with an ease that had Izzy's brow rising. When he was beside Amy, Izzy noticed how huge the stranger was, tall, muscular, and wide. Amy produced a frightened squeak as her body pitched forward into his.

"Jerry!" she protested. When Amy scolded Tai for harassing her, she smiled. But now, her eyes were wide. Her face turned away from the camera, towards Tai and Matt. Izzy's temper rose, although he wasn't sure why.

Laughing, Jerry lowered her. He handed Amy the flowers, and Izzy wasn't sure how to interpret her expression. "They're beautiful, thank you…" But Jerry wasn't listening; his eyes stared directly into the camera.

"Hey, Ames," he said, grinning. Amy jerked when he threw an arm over her shoulders and pinned her to his side. "Check it out! We're on camera!" He moved in for a kiss. At the last second, Amy turned her head, so that his lips fell on her cheek. She averted her eyes and tried to turn away from the camera, but Jerry's hold was too firm.

And then the person filming moved on to the beast and his family.

The world turned black around the edges. Suddenly, Izzy realized that he wasn't breathing, and he pushed his chair back enough to place his head between his knees. He took a few deep, steadying breaths, staying still until his vision normalized. He tried to ignore the inevitable conclusion, but there was no denying the knowledge that had fermented in the back of his mind.

This Jerry was the bastard who hurt Amy.

Izzy stood, popped the DVD out of the tray, grabbed the case, and ran out of the room. He had to talk to Mimi. Now.

Author's Notes:

So! If I were writing this story now, in 2021, instead of 2012… Well, I wouldn't have brought in arranged marriages and changed the nature of Sora's family situation. In canon, Sora is an iemoto heiress- her mother is the current grandmaster of ikebana, and Sora will presumably inherit the Takenouchi school and grandmaster title. It's a ton of pressure, and it's a huge part of Sora's backstory/character arc.

Four Years Sora is not an iemoto heiress. Her mother's ikebana school is co-owned with a business partner- it's an ikebana school, not THE ikebana school. I brought arranged marriage in partially for drama, but also because I had friends in college who expected to have arranged marriages someday. They were cool with it, which challenged my beliefs at the time.

I tweaked the first scene a lot, trying to explore how Four Years Matt is different than canon (original Japanese) Yamato, and even canon English dub Matt. He truly is his own thing, partially because I made the success of his band impact his personality, partially because I really wanted a male character in the story with more social aplomb, and partially because I… Didn't understand Matt's characterization that well in 2012, frankly! But hey, it's an AU! I hope you'll enjoy him, regardless.

Thanks for reading, please review!