Disclaimer: The events that will transpire are intended to entertain you, the reader. If you feel that these events are highly unlikely or purely stupid, it's because it is meant to be. Hence why the genre is humor. In other words, don't be trollin'. Enjoy the chapter!

Rated T cuz Mer's a big perv. You are warned.

II. The Baker, A Pedophile

"Okay, Mer. You don't need to be as funny as me, but don't bore Beryl's readers or they'll flame you," my predecessor advised, her fingers clasped together as she rested her elbows on the desk she sat behind. I was standing across from her, listening carefully. Readers? So there were actual people experiencing my life like it was written? I knew I was attractive, but wow! I had stalkers crazy enough to read about me? Nice.

"Miss Ophelia, I think the fanfiction started already so stop breaking the fourth wall," the random character beside Lady Aubergine commented.

"You just did saying that there was a fourth wall, insignificant filler character!" she argued, clearing her throat. "Anyway, why are you here?"

"I…need a job so I can pay back my father," I answered reluctantly.

Alright, here's the deal. One day, my father was hosting a party. Everything was going great: people were doing the Hustle, break-dancing, and whatever odd dance techniques my predecessor brought to my family. I was upstairs, in my room preparing to join the commotion and by preparing, I meant stuffing my corset because I had really small breasts. You can't even call them that. Maybe oranges would suffice. Really, it was like Puberty was drunk and deliberately took the time to have a conversation with Hormones.

"H-Hey, Hormones," said Puberty.

"Are you drunk again, Puberty?" replied Hormones.

"T-That's for you to know, and for me to f-find out! Hey, why don't you take all the plumpness that's supposed to be in the girl's chest and put it in her ass? A-and that way, she could, like, be like Kim Kardashian, but without the silicone and useless TV show."

Hormones sighed in annoyance. "If I did this, would you swear not to get drunk ever again?"

"I drink to never promise again…and make her short, too."

Well, after I was done with being ashamed of my flatness, I finally managed to make it to the top of stairwell. My dress was a little long and I honestly felt that I could make it down the stairs without making a fool out of myself. I cleared five steps, ten. Then at the very last step, I tripped. Not only did I trip and fall to the floor, I stepped on my dress and tripped literally out of my clothes.

Everyone saw my goods and my father threatened that I would be a street urchin if I didn't get to pay him back the price of his embarrassment. His idea of reimbursing him based on a intangible emotion was ludicrous enough. How did he expect me to pay him back one-hundred thousand pounds before the year ended? I was hoping to seek advice from my family's benefactor, maybe even work under her.

"A job? I can help with that," Lady Aubergine assured, gesturing to the man she called "insignificant filler character". He nodded, handing a small mechanical device to her. She pressed a button and put the object to her ear.

"Hi, Sebastian! I have a young lady here and she needs a job. Could you run that by Ciel real quick? I'll hold…Hi, Ciel! No, she's completely capable! Oh, alright! See you there!" She pushed another button and put the device down, smiling.

"Alright, Mer. If you're lucky, you might be able to join in on the most worn-out cliché ever: working at the Phantomhive Manor," the purple-clad girl informed. I bowed, very eager to get this over with.

-Boring Transition That Lets You Know Time Has Passed-

We were in a carriage, on our way to Phantomhive Manor. What kind of a name was Phantomhive, anyway? It sounds like a place where ghost bees go, don't you agree? According to Lady Aubergine, if I was successful, I would be working for a person called Ciel Phantomhive. She assumed that I would be relaxed to know that he and his butler understood French. There goes the stereotype of the foreign servant cursing out everyone in her native language while they look on in confusion. Well, that was just two people I had to worry about.

"Now, whatever you do, don't ever try to harm Ciel in any way," she warned, her face dead serious.

"Why would I do that?" I asked, curious.

"Believe me, you'll find a reason to. He has a smart mouth that just pisses people off, but if you even mention harming him-like I did in Chapter Twelve-his butler won't hesitate to kill you."

"Kill?"

"Or rape. Depending if you have information or not," she elaborated.

I just waited patiently until we arrived at the manor. We came to a stop and the carriage door opened. I just wanted to maintain my distance from anyone that might distract me from achieving my goal of paying back my father or risk having to solicit my goods (no matter how tiny they were) in the streets of London.

"Welcome to the Phantomhive Manor," a voice, smooth and silky, welcomed. I almost hit my head trying to see who it belonged to. Could it be one of those guys that had the perfect voice, but imperfect anatomical features? Snap out of it, Mer! Surely this man wasn't worth you fawning over! I have a job to do and nothing could stop me, not even-

A slender frame met my vision. He was dressed crisply in a black tailcoat made from what I could see was the most finest wool and slacks. He had a broad chest, and was tall. Maroon eyes that trapped me in their passionate depths and the obsidian locks I hoped to wrap my fingers around framed them perfectly. I do believe that if I had a penis…well, you could do the math, but all I had to show for my arousal was my Ultimate Rapeface. It went unnoticed by the man, who held his gloved hand out.

"Your hand, miss?" he politely requested.

"Of course," I could only reply, wondering what his last name was to figure out what my name would sound like next to it. In the meantime, he would have to stick with Sullivan. Sebastian Sullivan. That sounded nice, didn't it, my readers? The butler helped me down and-

Good God, take a look at that ass! I'd like to lay hands on that! Anyway, I thought that this was the opportune time to properly introduce myself. I stood on my toes, took his face in my hands and kissed both of his cheeks. What? It was a French custom. Okay, that was an excuse to kiss him, so what? You totally envy me right now.

"Bonjour. My name is Mer Sullivan and I hope to be part of your staff," I greeted, curtsying to him.

"Bienvenue, mademoiselle. I am the head butler, Sebastian Michaelis. Your name means 'Sea' in English, correct?" he responded, genuinely interested. I was so in there.

"Yes, it does." I wish he'd drown in my sea, if you catch my drift. Insert perverted laugh here. Lady Aubergine joined us soon enough, almost tripping as she exited the carriage.

"Thanks for the help, Sebastian!" she spat, stomping over in our direction.

"My apologies, Lady Cornelius. Shall we go inside?" suggested the butler, leading the way inside. The entrance itself was bigger than the courtyard back at my home, so I felt like I was dirt-poor when observing the spacious area. My predecessor seemed to be used to it, placing her hands in her pockets as she walked next to me.

"I can't believe it's not pimping…" she whispered to me.

"What do you mean?" I queried.

"Ciel's the head of a toy company, but I don't believe that's all his family's been doing."

"You're correct, Lady Cornelius. The Phantomhives were also advocates of flood-control and medical establishments," Sebastian elaborated, making clear that he heard our short-lived conversation. He turned to me. "The Young Master is expecting you, so if you could please follow me…"

The butler (who would soon be Sebastian Sullivan) started to go up the stairs. I rooted through my luggage and set up my camera, taking a picture of the finest posterior known to woman. I put my equipment away as soon as he whirled around to address the sound, smiling innocently 'til he set his eyes forward again. We eventually made it to a study area, and I started to wonder what this "Young Master" looked like. Was he as handsome as his butler? I could see him now. Strong and lean. A charming smile that just oozed with confidence, "I'm sexy and you know it."

Sitting behind a desk positioned in front of large windows, a child no older than twelve glanced up at our arrival. Was he the Young Master's son or younger sibling? He wore an eyepatch over his right eye, which gave me the impression that he loved to play "Pirates of the Caribbean" or some other childish game. He was just the cutest thing! I searched around the room to locate the person I would be working for. I still couldn't find him so why did Sebastian bring me here?

The boy stood up, walking over to me. I had the urge to drop my luggage, scoop him up, and bring him to my face to cuddle him…so I did.

"Pardon me for being impulsive, but you're just so adorable!" I squealed, giggling like I was mad. The boy protested against my embrace, pushing away from me. He addressed the butler, who seemed mildly amused.

"Sebastian, who is this girl!" the sweetheart demanded, a blush tainting his cheeks. The tall man appeared like he wanted to say "Apparently, a pedophile," but that wouldn't be true, would it? I'm just a shota-lover, is all.

"This is Mer Sullivan, the young lady seeking employment at the manor. Isn't she a colorful individual, Young Master?" the sly servant said, while I felt my heart plummet into the pit of my stomach. Ciel Phantomhive was a twelve-year-old shota! I think I'm fired already. I maintained a non-pedophile distance away from him and bowed as deeply as I could.

"My apologies, m'lad! I was expecting someone older and I wasn't informed-please don't fire me before you hire me!" I begged fervently.

"How do you expect to be a servant without having any boundaries?" he criticized. Lady Aubergine was right; I would find a reason to harm him. I mean, who does he think he is, with that snobbish tone? Oh, that's right. Rich and cute.

Ciel straightened himself out. "What can you do?"

"Well…I can bake," I answered.

"Sebastian is already capable of that task."

Damn. Think of a witty reply…

"I'm sure he can, m'lad. However, wouldn't a woman's cooking taste better than a man's?"

A bit arrogant on my part, but anything to prevent my prostitution. The Earl smirked. He didn't think I was undermining my pretty butler's skills, was he? I glanced back to gauge Sebastian's reaction to my words and I saw a rather self-assured expression on his face. Relationships have a better chance at forming if fueled by a healthy rivalry, right? It was just the matter of how many treats I would have to bake to make him see that I'm sweet enough to sample, too. Insert perverted laugh here.

"Show her the kitchen, Sebastian," the short-haired boy ordered.

"Understood, Young Master."

If I won over the Earl's affections with my cooking, I would have two goals. The first being working in the Phantomhive manor until I had the proper wages to pay my father back and the second being making Sebastian Michaelis mine by that time. Wish me luck.

A/N: Optimistic, isn't she? Review.