A/N: I. Love. Terezi.

I will be the first to admit, I am used to getting what I want. My Bro has an excess of spending money, and he tends to be busy so if I ask for a few bucks he hands it over to get me off his back. It's pretty cool. But it makes it even more of a pain in the ass to deal with when I don't get what I want. I have the coping skills of a snot-faced two year old when it comes to not getting what I want. I mean, I don't cry and get red-faced and snot-nosed- I've got an image to keep. But bygones are not ever bygones with me.

That would probably be the root of my problem. The underlying truth buried in layers and layers of soil anchoring this giant-ass weed I call my personality in place. If I want something and I can have it, I take it. None of that conscience crap. When I was a kid, I stole so many packages of gum if I still had them all now I probably could have built a second home out of them.

Of course the game I played now was a bit different then my Fruit Stripes nabbing past. Love, they said, was trial and error. So far I hadn't met the whole "error" part. I figured it wasn't in my blood. Maybe I was one of those people that just got whomever I wanted. With four relationships going, it certainly seemed that way.

And then came along the Error himself. Jesus Christ, you'd expect him to be out of my league. He was. But not, like, some rich kid with thousands of girls and/or boys flying to his sides like he was a magnet. Not even close. He was the opposite.

John Egbert did not come into my life with a bang. He wasn't anything special. At least, nobody else thought he was. He was a buck-toothed brunette with a crappy taste in entertainment and a mouth that never seemed to close. He was an odd mix of lanky and pudgy, and had glasses that always seemed chronically crooked. Despite the fact that he was sixteen years old he still seemed stuck in puberty with a cracking voice and a face dotted with acne.

And god damnit, I wanted him.

At first, he was just another kid. It was a normal day when he came around. I was sitting with Tavros, Terezi and a few other kids. Terezi sat across from me, her arms crossed. The synesthesiac always seemed to know what was going on around her. She'd be impossible to cheat on, really. She would probably know within seconds- part of the reason she was the only one aware about my situation. Her red glasses shielded her unseeing eyes, but it still sort of gave me the creeps. Like she knew. What she knew? Hell if I know. But she knew it. Tavros was sitting about as far away as he could while still sitting next to me, because the whole public-display thing freaked him out. Whatever, it reaised less suspicion and rumors about me, him and Terezi.

Terezi turned to chat with her cronies that piled at either side of her, a small group of girls that hung onto her every word.

"Hello! Mind if I sit here?" Conversation died down at the table for the most part, and heads swiveled. And that was how I met John. He hovered above the table, clutching a lunch tray with a hopeful grin. Terezi shrugged.

"'Sup to Dave," she said simply. I looked at the boy. Honestly, I didn't see why in the world he'd pick this lunch table, out of every other lunch table. The one with the paraplegic, and the two kids with the unreadable shades, and the jabbering girls. But I had to give him credit for trying.

"Sure," I said with a curt nod. He beamed moronically.

"Thanks!" he said, as though I'd just done him the most unrepayable service. He shoved a forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth, then began to speak the minute his mouth was empty. "I'm John, by the way. John Egbert! I just moved here with my dad and stuff. He got transferred by work." He filled his mouth again, the first among many situations that proved unless John Egbert's mouth was doing something, he would apparently die. Though it's never been proven, it's never been disproven either because the kid is always talking, or biting his nails, or eating, or chewing on his lip. The muscles on his stupid face could probably life more wait than he could otherwise. "Nice to meet you." I nodded.

At first, I didn't think much of the dork. Honestly, I was relieved to get away from him. Every second he was partaking in some sort of conversation he got nervous. He looked like he was going to blow up after thirty whole seconds of me talking to Tavros. So, once he was gone the only thing on my mind was that it hadn't been soon enough. I didn't worry about him at all. I already had my hands full with my high-maintenance reputation and my four demanding relationships that I had to keep balanced.

It was really down to a science. Unfaithful-Douche-ology. I hadn't talked to Karkat much lately, so I had to make sure to pay attention to him tonight before he got upset. I was more in the mood to talk to Jade, really, but sometimes I had to make sacrifices.

I logged onto my computer and opened up my chat which was already telling me that I had nine new messages. Three from Jade, six from Karkat. I opened up the chat with Karkat.

CG: DAVE.

CG: YOU ALIVE?

CG: SHIT YOU DOUCHEBAG WHERE ARE YOU?

CG: I KNOW BETTER THAN TO WORRY ABOUT YOU.

CG: YOU'RE PROBABLY JUST OFF BEING A DOUCHE SOMEWHERE.

CG: WHENEVER YOU FEEL LIKE NOT BEING A RETARD.

I smirked and cracked my knuckles, beginning to type. Everything I did was like an act, like I was a fucking ballerina and I was doing my stupid little pirouettes and everyone was amazed and thought I was graceful and wonderful. But behind stage I was really just some crabby bitch with a temper. At least I had the staged part under control.

It was never my intention to ever let anyone backstage.