A/N- EXAMS FINALLY OVER!!!!! And I'm back, finally!!!!! I'm not in touch with what's happening in my story. My own story and I forget the plot. Ah, well, at least I'm not flunking maths like in thought I would.

Anyway, people, I want you to review, because that's the nice thing to do.

Stupid freakin' BOARD year. ICSE (Indian Certificate of Secondary Education) board, which is worse than any other. How much does that suck? Once school reopens, it'll be all work and no play for a whole year. Don't know how I'm gonna write this (but I will).

Brutus' POV

The competition is over, and if you're wondering who won, it was what I stood for – peace. So, in a way, I won, and no one lost.

But its not like that competition even mattered, those two, that is Cassius and Caesar, were only going to take several thousand years to complete the course, and by that time, we would all be dead, since we are growing old now. I even almost have a white spot on my hair, but maybe that's just dust.

Right now, we, that is, Portia and me, are at home. Cassius has also come over, along with Casca.

And Portia's making lunch, leaving me alone with the guys.

'Dude,' says Casca, 'you've got every single Power-puff girl episode there is.'

'Ew,' says Cassius, 'I hate that show, no offence, Bru, but it's for girls.'

'There's nothing wrong with being in touch with your feminine side,' Casca stands up for me.

'I'm not in touch with any male or female side,' I hastily say.

'Yeah,' says Casca, and then puts a tape into the VCR, and pushes a button on the remote. The taped episode starts playing immediately, and Casca falls heavily into the sofa, like he's taking year's worth of exhaustion off him in one go.

I have seen this episode a million and one times, so I decide to talk to Cassius. He isn't watching the show either; he's looking outside the window.

'So, Cassius,' I say, 'what's up?'

'The words sound good on you,' he says, still staring out of the window, not meeting me in the eye. The evening-sun falls through the clouds and on his face ever so eloquently, bringing out a hidden glow in him, the glow neither I nor he knew he had.

I'm so poetic.

'Thank you,' I say. From the condition of things, it looks like I'm really bad at making conversation.

'I dunno, Bru,' he sighs, after a minute or so of silence, 'I thought that if I beat Caesar, Titinius would come back, and that everything would be alright. Obviously, he wouldn't do any such thing, so I didn't really have to prove myself to him, to anyone, even to myself. But, I don't know, things change, nothings constant. One moment I'm in a toga, and Titinius is dying over my dead body, next moment, I'm in a stupid torn pair of jeans, and he's, well, not there.'

Though these lovey-dovey words about Titinius, for no reasons I can comprehend, sting, I continue talking.

'I think your jeans are very nice,' I sort of lie. (Everyone else thinks they're nice, so I guess they must be. But he should get them stitched some time soon. One more tear, and they'll be in two (or more) pieces.)

'Oh,' now he turns around and looks me in the eye, something he hasn't quite managed for ages, hiding a smile, 'you think so?'

'Sure,' I say. Okay, so I guess they are nice in their own way.

'Thanks,' he looks fairly surprised, and is now grinning openly, 'I thought you wouldn't like them, but ahhh, you do…so, great.' he's lost for words. Maybe he's about to remember the reason he wasn't talking to me.

Well, he's one confusing person. All happy one moment, all sad another, then angry, then sad, then cheerful, and then back into his own grey world of sadness and doom.

Yup, that's Caius Cassius.

'What are you thinking?' I ask, wanting to get straight to the point; something I will never manage to successfully accomplish. I usually just drone on about other unnecessary things, and forget I have to say. I wish he tells me the cause of these mood-swings. I mean, he can't keep his mouth shut all the time. Maybe I should give myself a voluntary wound in the thigh, but something tells me that only Portia would get away with something like that.

But what's the harm in trying?

'I can beat myself up,' I say, because I think "myself" is more effective than "my thigh". And my thigh would sort-of hurt I was reduced (by Cassius) to hitting it/pinching it/harming it in any way.

'What?' Cassius looks shocked and amused at the same time, 'why would you do that? And its you who thought suicidal thoughts were wrong. Hitting yourself is as suicidal as it gets, apart from killing yourself, that is.'

'I didn't mean it in that way,' I quickly said, 'I want you to tell me what's bothering you and why you weren't talking to me.'

'What's that got to do with beating yourself up?' Cassius asks, now disgusted. He is probably picturizing me beating myself up.

'Uh, it makes people talk. When Portia wanted me to talk, she wounded her thigh, on purpose.'

Cassius snorts, 'that's so typical of her. I'll make fun of her for the rest of her life now, thanks for that piece of information.'

'Uh, it worked,' I repeat, 'so it wasn't that bad a thing.'

Cassius shakes his head and says, 'but it won't work with me. There isn't much to say anyway. Titinius and I broke-up, so I'm a little sad, I suppose. That's it.'

He's explaining that like I'm two or something.

I am definitely not two. I am just five, FIVE, years younger than he is.

'And why weren't you talking to me?' I ask, trying to make my voice sound as mature as possible.

'That's because – no, wait – don't go beating yourself up – uh, I didn't really know what to say…I'm, erm, shy.' That's a lie and he knows it. And he also knows that I know it. And I know that he knows that I know. And he knows that I know that he knows that I know that he knows. That means that he knows that he knows.

I confuse myself sometimes.

'Yes I am shy,' he repeats, 'S-H-Y shy.'

'I am perfectly aware of your spelling abilities,' I say, 'and I know how shy is spelt. And I also know that you're a very capable liar.'

'So I am,' he says, 'and I am also shy.'

'But you know me enough to not be shy. You were very chatty during our first meeting here, and then you went all quiet. I want to know why.'

'I am a strange person, Bru, completely unaware of my feelings, towards you, towards Titinius, towards myself. Even you'll have to admit, it felt weird meeting each other after all that back home. I was all happy and stuff the first time we met, but I really didn't know what to say. You remembered, or rather Portia remembered, my name, and you remembered me, and YOU stopped talking. Not me, Bru, you.'

Someone manipulating my mind again…

'You can't fool me,' I cleverly say, 'when at Rome, when you wanted to talk me into joining the conspiracy, you made it sound as if I had started the discussion. Haha, Cassius, I am no idiot; I knew perfectly well what you were up to. As do I now.'

'You don't know what I'm up to,' he confidently says. He pauses and then, after a moment says, 'I'm not really up to anything, honest.'

'Oh, alright,' its pointless fighting with him.

'But if I stopped being friendly and stuff, I'm sorry,' Cassius continues, 'I am crazy and I admit it.'

He smiles a lopsided smile. Antony always said that it makes him look like he's mocking himself, but that's not completely true. He has a good enough smile, when he does smile, that is. And he smiles now. He's not a stupid grumpy guy anymore.

'So,' says Cassius, 'how come you're not watching TV?'

'I've already seen this episode,' I explain, feeling stupid for some reason.

Ah, well, we can talk now. Like two long-lost friends.

---------------------------------

Cassius

A week passed since the swimming pool incident, and everything was back to normal. Everyone did anything they could do for ice-cream. Everyone had lots of pizza. Everyone was happy.

Including Caius.

He did his best to forget Titinius, which was easy enough. Chocolate heals anything and everything, and as long as he didn't see his ex face-to-face, he remained as cheerful as ever.

The normal time-table was resumed. Caius went to Portia's house in the morning, hung around there all day, had pizza with Casca in the afternoons, dressed badly for free ice-cream in the evenings, and then went home to watch television, drank twelve bottles of fruit-juice, the healthier alternative to coke, then drank some coke anyway, as it wasn't as fizzy or deleterious on "heaven" as it is on earth.

The History channel would be watched till at least midnight, leading to a nine-hour sleep.

Or at least that was what the plan was.

Caius was watching "Augustus Caesar" happily. Re-runs of that movie were shown at least thrice a day, and he, Caius had always found the idea of Octavius, a mere teenager, being an emperor and killing millions of people highly amusing. But then – the all-famous fairy god-mom stepped into the room.

This, of course, scared Caius. Someone appearing out of nowhere (with a lot of smoke and sound effects) can be a little intimidating. He took five minutes to regain his cool and said, 'Hey, god-mom.'

'But what about Brutus?' the fairy sadly replied. She had wrinkles all around her eyes and looked ultra-depressesed.

'What about him?' Caius said, 'we are on talking terms and his friendship is enough for me. I value it above anything else.'

This caused the fairy godmother to raise her eyebrows sarcastically and say, 'just yesterday, you were all Brutus-Tity-Brutus-Tity…what now?'

'I am an independent person and do not need a man to help me live,' said Caius.

'You sound like a woman in her forties who wants to get married and have kids,' the fairy said pointedly.

'I am not a woman, and nor am I on my forties,' said Caius, 'and I do not want to get married and have kids. And nor do I sound like one.' But right after the words came out of his mouth, he started to feel doubtful.

'See, you're turning into a woman, and if you don't snap out of all this T.V watching and non-stop chocolate-chip-ice-cream eating, you'll just get fat.'

'I have consumed huge amounts of chocolates and other fattening things during both my lifetime and death' said Caius, patting his stomach proudly, 'and I am as skinny as ever. I could have easily been a super-model, but I prefer a normal life to a celebrity-life, fame, wealth, drugs and anorexia.'

'But you aren't doing anything,' the fairy godmother insisted, 'boredom never helps anyone. Your life needs a plot.'

'Cinna being Dr. Evil was plot enough,' said Caius, 'I need a quiet retired life, which I have rightfully earned.' Saying this he thrust a huge spoon into his bowl of ice-cream, took out a reasonable proportion of it, and tried swallowing the whole bit at once.

'You're still a kid,' said his godmother, 'and your mind, like your body, hasn't grown, matured, learnt anything or evolved for the past so many years. You were stuck in a box, and you can't live in retirement anymore. Snap out of it. You have a love life.'

That statement amused Cassius, 'who me?'

'Yes you. Titinius has gone now, but there's still-,'

'My best friend's husband,' said Caius, 'who was a teeny-weeny crush, like I've told you a million times.'

'You still need a life. You, baby, are dead.'

'Crushes and boyfriends,' said Caius wisely, 'only result in heartbreak.'

The godmother sighed, sat next to our hero, and took a huge chunk of ice-cream and decided to feed herself for a change.

A/N- Not too long, but I am just returning from a Maths exam and am not in the position to think (gaaaaaaaaaawd, trig sucks!!!)