Wow, five freakin' reviews? ;u; I feel so loved. I forgot to mention in the last chapter that I'm only adopting this perspective for a few chapters to give a somewhat deep look, but change to third for the rest of the story. xD Unless I change my mind. SO enjoy~! :)

Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN THE POWERPUFF GIRLS, WHY DO YOU KEEP ASKING?! ;A;

You watch your friend run off, forcing your self to indulge in the uncharacteristic act of running after her and ask her what is wrong. She might get suspicious. You let out a heavy sigh, taking a last glance of your rushing friend, and begin walking back to your dorm. Your heart feels heavy for some reason. For a long time, it's been that way whenever your tomboyish friend leaves. Ever since High School, you've gained a new perspective of her. You still see her as an extremely wild and strong tomboy, but you've started to notice some rather physical changes. Her once chin length ratty hair, now came down in wild waves of black, barely touching her shoulders. Her eyes are a strikingly bright green, and her facial features are sharp but delicate. Not to mention her body has changed from that of a 12-year old boy's to that of a busty athletic woman. You still tease her by calling her "B-cup", but you've stood far corrected for a long time.

You've also gained a lot of respect for her. She's always somehow been able to fight her way to the top, and triumph even over you. She's strong and everyone knows it, including her. She also knows her limitations, but that never stops her. You know she's not the smartest person in the world, but she makes up for it in her cleverness. It's actually amazed you at how complex her schemes can be. She has always excelled at sports, beating you once at a small game of soccer. I mean, I let her win. You are still not over that actually.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, interrupting your thoughts, and you stubbornly take it out. You already know who's calling and you're not in the mood for it, but you know it will come back to haunt you later on.

"Hello?" You say and brace for the ear-grating voice to reply.

"Hey, Butchie! How is my baby doing?" Princess, the owner of the voice, greets in a sickening happy voice. You have to hold back possibly the biggest fucking eye-roll in history at her use of the nickname "Butchie". A lot of people have called you that, most gaining a black eye, and you sometimes let a few use it freely, but the sound of her saying it makes you want to punch something.

"Fine. What are you calling for?" You're pretty tuckered out right now. It seems whenever you talk to her, you have to resist so many urges that it's unbelievable. The conversations don't even go anywhere other than her bragging. You do boast a lot yourself, but not every conversation you have with someone revolves around it. You mean, really, does she have to talk that much?

"Well, I heard one of my friend's having a party, and I was wondering whether or not you can come with me." You're slightly grateful she's at least asking you, but you're also freaking the crap out right now since you can't think of an excuse.

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

"Great! Pick me up at seven!" She hangs up the phone, and you finally let out the sigh you've holding out. You quickly check the time. It's 6:10.

"Well, fuck." You mumble to yourself, the statement being completely self-explanatory.

_BUTTERCUP_

You quickly slam open and close your dorm door, and slide down against the wall. You fucking idiot, why the hell did run away from him like that? You feel angry and sad tears fight to come out of your eyes, but you force them back. Damn it, you don't need to cry over this! He's just a boy!

"Hey, Buttercup!" Your small meltdown session is interrupted by your roommate. You look up and give her a questioning look. Her blonde and black hair is curled, and instead of her usual jeans and a shirt, she's wearing a knee-length skirt and a fluffy blouse. She gives you a smile, seemingly oblivious of the fact that you're in the middle of something.

"Why do you look so girly? Did Bubbles come over or something?" You scan over her once again, making sure your eyes aren't tricking you. Your roommate may not be a tomboy, but she's definitely not the girlish, dolled up type.

"No~. I just heard there's a party going on over at Kate's house and since I know you must be having a bad day, I'm going to take to take some fun~!" She smiles, giving you the weirdest look you've ever seen.

"Wait, how do you know I'm having a bad day?" You ask, slightly frightened by her weird smile.

"I can tell by the look in your eyes, you've failed your quest of love." She says, and you give her a 'What-the-serious-fuck' look. You've always questioned your roommate's insanity, but she's solidified the clear fact that she is one of the most bat shit crazy people in the world.

"Whatever. I'm not going." You shake off your friend's look, and stand up, going around your friend.

"What do you mean you're not going? I know you LOVE parties, and it'll cheer you up." She says as you walk over to your bedroom door. You suddenly start to feel very grateful for the blessed fact that your dorm is split into two rooms.

"Yeah, but I don't want to be cheered up." You enter your bedroom and close the go and rest on your bed, but it is short-lived. Sara barges into your room and you hit the back of your head on the floor as you get dragged out by your roommate.

"Yes, you do! And if you don't, I'll force you to the party!" Sara's voice is disturbingly calm, and you hope to God that she got over her habit of whittling. You pull yourself out of her grip.

"OK, OK, just don't expect me to dress up like you are." She giggles again, her calm anger gone in a flash.

"Like I'd expect you to be all girled-up. I don't even think you know the meaning of it. If you want, I can show you~!" She offers happily, but you immediately reject the offer and run back to your room.

You quickly look through your closet, looking for the cleanest set of clothes you can find. It takes a little while, but that's no surprise to you. You've never really been the one for great bodily hygiene. Laundry to you is basically your clothes saying to you, "You must work to use me!" which you find ridiculous. Nonetheless, you find and put on the cleanest clothes you find; some jean shorts and a tank top. Not your most favored clothes, but you don't give a damn anyways. You try and shove your phone and your favorite Swiss army knife in shorts' pocket.

One thing you and Sara share in common is a secret Swiss army knife collection. You use them because you always like messing with them, but you have no idea why Sara has any of them. You really don't want to know either.

"Come on, Buttercup~! Let's go!" Sara calls from the other room. Speak of the devil! You slowly go over to your friend who, in the span of 10 minutes, put on a crap-load of mascara. You raise an eyebrow at her, but she smiles and grabs, pulling you out the dorm as fast as she could.

"This is going to be so much fun~!" She squeals in excitement. You just roll your eyes and nod silently. You don't know why, but you feel like you're going to regret going to this party.

That's all the chapter for the day! :) For anyone who wants to take a challenge, I have a contest going on, check out my Profile for more info! Leave a review if you like, please! Do it! :U