Under the Pretense: Mayday Parade is so friggen' rad. You should see their new cover with the guy, and the tux. It's snazzy. And ohmygod, you have to check out Lily and Kiwi's new one-shot, "Tutorials in Bassness". It's pure glamour. Chuck Bass style, that is. Oh, and thanks to Kas for editing.

My Live Journal (linked on profile) has teasers for AIO. Before I post the chapter up. How fab is that?

Inspiration brought to you by: The Killers Mr. Brightside (hence the title name), AAR I Wanna, and Mayday Parade Bruised and Scarred (song used).

Disclaimer: Does anyone even care if I put this up or not? Disclaimed.

Part III – It Started Out With a Kiss (How did it End Up Like this?)

Did you know Lizzie's story (Waking Up in Vegas) has the same chapter title? Totally a coincidence. Yeah.

* * *

It all goes back to the first kiss
It was the one I thought I'd never miss
Maybe we were one of the lucky ones
Maybe I'm just not quite strong enough

It was like a trigger – the kiss. Because, as soon as their salty lips touched, that was it. In the glare of the soft TV screen, the popcorn scattered the bed, both of their shirts came off. Her bra unclasped, him taking off his pants.

The jumbled mess of clothes tossed carelessly throughout the suite. The bowl of half eaten popcorn lay upside down, abandoned. Their two bodies tangled into one as the thin screen of the hotel balcony lay still. It was the scene of the crime.

It wasn't fair, what they were doing. Her cheating on her sweetheart, him cheating on his girl – the one he vowed he would have to win over, only in the first moment he saw her. It was a cheat. Like a game of poker, they weren't playing by the rules, they were creating their own. They were finding loopholes and carelessly running in them, wanting to find a way, any way that would make it acceptable. That would make their cheating acceptable. If they were being sensible, they would have taken more care to cover their tracks. They would have taken more care to notice how stupid and idiotic and foolish they were being. Because, in the end, they would be split apart. They knew that. They'd be bruised and scarred and nothing would save them.

But they'd already started this reckless poker game. And it was all or nothing.

So the night went on, and they put more bets on the table, the lights of Paris twinkling in the background. What they both didn't realize was that along with all the people they were betting – Macey, Jonas – they were also putting their own hearts at risk.

* * *

7:03

The silhouette of the sun was all she could concentrate on. The room, still tattered messy from the night before, had an air of misery. As soon as she'd woken up, Liz noticed it.

Quickly and silently, she'd gotten up from the bed to stand before the soft screen, still covering the balcony. Then, without sound, she picked up her clothes and got dressed.

The last of the buttons on her blouse fastened, she took her briefcase and headed towards the door, but not before catching a glimpse of Preston. His face was smushed on the pillow, the covers pulled up so his waist was bare, facing the ceiling.

And that's when it happened. Her eyes became glassy as the vivid memories of the night before hit her like a wall of bricks. So she cracked the door open and slipped out of the room, leaving it invisibly.

* * *

9:29

Preston woke with a start. The air, chilly, was giving him goose-bumps. Pulling the cover up, he reached over to tug it on Lizzie before she had a chance to wake up from the cold. Eyes quickly wandering around the room, he realized she wasn't there.

She was gone.

He got up, picking up his clothes that were shed on the bed from the night before and threw them on haphazardly. With his clothes arranged crookedly, his hair mushed and the red in his eyes from lack of sleep, it looked like he was hungover. In reality, he was anything but.

Lizzie was gone. It was like she was etched away from the picture. Preston crinkled his eyes closed and opened them, as if it'd make her magically appear.

He couldn't believe this. With her not being here, it seemed like the events from last night hadn't happened. Maybe the whole thing was a dream, he tried to convince himself.

No avail. The events of last night were indeed very real. It wasn't something that he'd conjured up. The popcorn, his burning hand, watching Power Rangers and ScoobyDoo and then suddenly kissing. And then suddenly having sex.

This was reality. It wasn't a hallucination. Last night happened.

They happened. But they weren't supposed to happen.

Preston's brain was racking for a solution. She couldn't think that this was a fling, right? He certainly wasn't one for having… casual sex. Especially if it's behind his girlfriend's back.

It was wrong. What they did was truly, really wrong.

But he didn't want to admit it. He really couldn't.

Because even though last night was wrong, it felt so right.

* * *

She needed to fix this. She needed to sit down and think rationally and figure out a way where everything would be alright. A way where Preston and her weren't cheating on other people.

Last night was a mistake. A mistake. A mistake.

It wasn't supposed to happen, she told herself. She had Jonas, and he had Macey.

One thing just led to another and they just got a little carried away. That was all. Nothing more.

Just a one time thing.

She repeated her mantra again and again in her head until it was ingrained in her brain. She and Preston were… no. They just couldn't be together. That's how it was. That's how it was meant to be.

* * *

Liz spent the day holed up in her suite. She pointedly ignored the television and the kitchen, writing her report that was to be handed into the lab tomorrow.

Knock, knock.

Elizabeth didn't make a move to get up. If someone was watching her, it would appear as if she was deaf and simply couldn't here the door.

A minute later, the door was being pounded. Liz, meanwhile, sat still, acting as if she was inanimate. Then, "Lizzie, I know you're in here. Open the door."

As an afterthought, Preston added, "Please?"

Liz blinked once, the only movement she offered for five minutes, and turned to look at the door.

"Dammit, Liz! Open the freaking door!" She blinked again and put her hands in her lap.

A second or two later, "Fine."

She frowned. Liz didn't think he would give up that easily. Finally, she got up from the plush leathered seat and made a motion to move. However, when the door made a crack, and the bolts came spiraling down, she groaned.

"Before you yell at me for blowing my cover or something," Preston started, moving the door to the side of the corridor, "just know that you gave me no choice."

Elizabeth opened her mouth, but was cut off by Preston – yet again. "I avoided the security cameras, don't worry."

* * *

And then she didn't know what came over her. She smiled at him. This was just like Preston, doing the most unpredictable thing at a time like this, but also making sure he thought everything through, so nothing would go awry. No wonder the CIA recruited him.

But then she caught sight of the popcorn that was stuck on his lapel. And that just brought those memories back. Those horrible memories that were a mistake and that were not to be repeated ever again.

The grim line of her lips set, she looked up at him. The tension was noticeable to any impostor. So thick in fact, that it could be cut with a knife.

And then she said those words that caused a rift in almost every relationship: "Preston, we need to talk."

This was supposed to be the easy part
but breaking down is what I found hard
Now I'm wearing this smile that I don't believe in
Inside I feel like screaming

* * *

A/N: Voila. Also, go alert www(.)fanfiction(.)com/~snazzycoolcats. It's a joint account between me and Kas. We're in the process of writing a v-day fic. Oh, and this chapter was very Liz, yes?

When you review:

- Ending scene?

- Guess who's going to make an appearance next chapter?

- It might be time for a change of scenery. Any suggestions?

- On a sad note, this story is ending soon. In, like, 3 chapters. So, anything you want me to know?

Oh, and seriously, make sure to review. I mean, it's not like I'm getting paid to write this or whatever, so the only feedback and gratitude I get for writing this is in a review. So, yeah. Review.

Ok. Bye.

S.W.I.T.Z