AHHHH. 28 Reviews? Omfg guys. Sorry for such a long wait. I haven't really been in the writing mood. But, now I am! Anyway, this story is more based off my fear of rollercoasters. I just got back from vacation, and we went to Seaworld in Orlando, Florida. I was getting sick just watching people on the rollercoasters and log flume!
Welp, enough about me! ON WITH THESE ONESHOTS OF MEROME!

He gulped, staring up at the ride. It had to be at least six stories off the ground, or at least that's what he thought. He followed the track with his eyes; it was made up of twists, turns, and drops. His heart dropped just thinking about it. Why had he let Mitch drag him here?

"Ready, Biggums?" The Canadian asked, a huge smile plastered onto his face. The idea of coming to the amusment park had popped into his head the day before. He craved the need for adventure and excitment.

Jerome smiled weakly and gave a non-enthusicatic "Yeah." Mitch didn't notice this, and grabbed Jerome's arm, tugging him into the line. There was a bit of a wait, which Jerome was thankful of.

Thoughts and worries racked the American's brain. Why couldn't he just tell Mitch about his fear of rollercoasters? Jerome feared that Mitch would make fun of him, and no longer look up to him the way he does. Sure, Jerome could drop into a half-pipe on a piece of wood and wheels. Or even dive off rocks into a pool. But rollercoasters? That's where Jerome draws the line.

The line moved relatively quickly and soon the duo where seated. Jerome cursed Mitch from picking the front seat. The worker running the ride annouced the usual things. "Keep your hands inside the cart at all times. Do not disencage the saftey bar.." Ect. Ect. All of which were pretty self explanatory. The tracks started up, pulling the carts up the steep incline. Jerome's stomach did flips as they got higher and higher.

"Are you ok?" Mitch asked. Jerome only nodded as a response, trying not to show weakness. The Canadian shrugged and peered over the edge. "Look, Jerome! We're so high up!" Jeromed took a quick peek and instantly regretted it. Everyone looked like little specs, meer ants of color. If you were to somehow fall out, death would ensure. There was no way of surviving a drop like that.

The carts neared the top, and Jerome wished he had never gotten on. The first drop was nearly straight. The rest of the track was loops, corkscrews, and more drops. He quickly grabbed Mitch's hand, more as a safety reassurance than anything. They plummented down.

Most people screamed with addrenalin, pure joy filling them. Few screamed of terror, as if they were going to die. Jerome was one of them. He clenched his eyes shut and squeezed Mitch's hand.

The ride was less than a minute long, and soon they were stopped. Jerome was...alive? By no means was he fine. His heart still raced. But he was alive, and that's all he cared about.

The safety bars were automatically pushed up, and the passengers were allowed to exit. Jerome was still holding Mitch's hand, and when he noticed, he blushed and let go. Mitch only laughed. He held up his hand. It was blue and purple, and it hurt like hell. Jerome's eyes widened.

"Mitch, I am so sorry. I-i didn't mean it." Jerome apologised. The Canadian laughed.

"You should have told me that you were scared of rollercoasters."

"I thought you'd make fun of me!" Jerome said defensively.

"Jerome, you're my best friend. I don't care if you're scared of rollercoasters. You should've told me. I wouldn't have made you go on."

Jerome nodded, and the two were left in silence. Well, besides the crowd of people talking and screaming all around them.

Mitch leaned up and planted a light kiss on Jerome's cheek, making them blush even more red than before. Instantly, Jerome pulled the Canadian in. Their arms were around each other, and they kissed hungerly.

Someone cleared their throat, catching the duo's attention. An man stood there, probably in his thirties.

"This is a children's park, too, ya know. Mind doing that somewhere else?" He sneered. A little girl looked up at the two, probably around the age of six. The man lightly tugged the girl away.

Both Jerome and Mitch blushed a deep red. They untangled theirselves from one another.

"I'm sorry about you hand." The American mumbled.

"To make up for it, you have to buy me lunch!" Mitch exclaimed. He held out his hand, the one that wasn't blue, and Jerome happily accepted.

"Fair enough. But I get to pick the place!"