"Where's Starfire?" Terra asks. She glances across the table of the balcony pizza parlor with blinking, blue eyes. "She's not usually this late!"

"She said she had a few things to take care of," Robin shrugged while holding the menu. His lips curved somewhat. "You know how she's been lately. Suddenly there are tons of 'chores' for her to do all over the Tower!"

"Sounds like Tamaranians have mid-life crises a bit early," Cyborg muses.

"Naaah…," Beast Boy winks and folds his arms. "She's just gone obsessed over being Terra's nanny since she got here."

"B.B.!" Terra frowns and punches his shoulder.

Whap!

"Ow!"

"That's not true! She is so not my nanny!"

"Hehehehe…face it! She adores you!"

"She does not!"

"She loves cooking for you and cleaning your room and stuff! Big sister complex or something!"

Terra folds her arms, blushes, and murmurs to Robin with a straightening her golden bangs. "C-Can we…uhm….order now?"

"Depends. Are we all ready?"

"Yo, I am."

"Same here, dude."

"Yeah, I guess so…"

Robin looks over. "Raven? How about you?"

"Just tea…thanks…," I murmur. I flip the page of a book.

"Come on, Rae!" Beast Boy waves. Grinning. "We're all here for pizza out on the town! That means cheese and sauce and parmesan and—"

"Just….tea….thank you…..," I hiss. Miniature puffs of flame flicker in my violet eyes.

"Erhm….."

Terra clears her throat. "I think we're ready."

"All right then," Robin gathers the menus.

Cyborg points: "Wait a minute. What about Starfire?"

"Oh….I know what she wants," Robin smirks and raises a finger. He says in a slightly dramatic, high voice: "'I shall endeavor to consume the cyclical mustard on cheese with dead fish, please!'"

"Hehehehehe!" Beast Boy all but falls out of his chair.

"Wow! That was awesome!" Terra beams.

Robin smirks somewhat. "Thank you….thank you very much…" He shuffles the menus. "I think she'd get a kick out of it too…ahem…n-no hard feelings."

Cyborg smirks slyly. "You know what they say about guys who memorize the menu choices of their female frie—"

"Thank you, Cyborg….," Robin grumbles.

"…………..and you know what they say about lonely guys who lovingly impersonate members of the opposite s—"

"Shut up, Cyborg."

"Yes suh! Right away suh! Don't be complainin' now, ya hear? Storm's a'comin, betta get da cows in! Lands o'Goshen!"

"Hahahahaha!"

"Oh my god, Cyborg….you did not just do that!"

"That's so…..holy crap, that's wrong…."

Robin looks pale.

Cyborg sits back, grins and proudly rests his arms behind his neck. "I've been waiting to do that for a long time…."

"Yeah….uhm…..," Robin clears his throat.

"Sheesh! Calm down, man! It was only a joke!"

"You sure? I wasn't trying to offend y—"

"Pfft. You know what? Forget it. God….what's worse than a stiff white dude?"

"Don't ask me," Beast Boy winks. "I'm green."

Terra nudges him. "Cop out."

"Ehhh….heheheh…."

"Say…," Cyborg scratches the human part of his skull and points across the pizza parlor balcony. "What are they yapping about?"

Terra turns to look. "Huh?"

"Better yet…," Cyborg smirks. "What are they yapping in?"

Even I curiously glance up from my book. I crane an ear. A group of Europeanish youngsters—all boys—are gathered around a table with pizza. They're speaking to each other quickly in a foreign-foreign dialect and laughing. Being young….

"Sounds……Chinese?"

"Pfft….yeah…sure, B.B."

"Canadian then?"

"Canada doesn't have a language….just beavers."

"Oh! Duh!" Beast Boy smiles proudly and winks at Cyborg and the others. "It's Russian."

"Russian?" Cyborg raises an eyebrow.

Robin smirks. "How do you deduce that, Beast Boy?"

"They keep saying the word 'tyi'."

"'Tyi'?"

"Russian for 'you'. Simple enough."

"You figured it out all from that….?"

"Yeah. I've heard Russian before."

"No you haven't…."

"Nuts to you, ya oversized garbage disposal! I've traveled around the world before, remember?"

"Ah right. With your parents."

"YES….with my parents. We were in Moscow for about a week."

"Wow! Did you take pictures?"

"Uhm…I-I was two…."

"You don't know a thing of what you're talking about…."

"I do too! THERE! You hear that? They just said 'dosvidan'ya'!"

"What the Hell does that mean?"

"Duh! It means 'Hello'!…………….or maybe 'rabbit'…..Uhmm…."

Terra's chuckling endlessly by this point.

Robing smirks curiously at her. "Terra? You okay?"

She takes a breath between giggles and manages: "Y-You boys know n-nothing about Russian…."

"And just how would you kno—" Beast Boy begins.

Terra merely stares at him.

He gets a good long at her face. Her skin. Her hair. Her eyes.

"Oh….." He blushes.

"Hehehehe…," she leans in and hugs him. "You're so stupid…it's cute."

"Uhm…..y-you're welcome?" he simpers.

"Where is that waitress?" Robin murmurs.

"Relax, Robin. You'll be able to give her your girlfriend's order soon enough."

Robin glares. "Now that has got to—"

"Psst…Raven!" Terra hisses.

"……..," I look up from my book. I am glaring. "…………..What?"

She winks and points at the 'Russian' table. "One of the guys have been stealing glances at you the whole time."

"…………….," I blink. "………………." I return to my book. "Whatever."

"Hehehehehe…come on, Raven? Aren't you even gonna look?"

"No."

"He's really cute! Bet he has a sexy accent too."

"Hey…she's right….," Cyborg murmurs. Grinning. "He's checking you out, girl!"

My face tenses and my violet eyes burn the pages I'm scanning. "It….doesn't….matter….to me…."

"Sure it does! Look!" Beast Boy points. "Your face is getting red!"

"Uhm….," Robin smiles nervously. "I think that's because she's getting mad, Beast Boy."

"Boy have I heard that excuse before…"

"It's not an excuse…," I bitterly hiss. "Now will you please, leave me al—"

SWOOOSH! Starfire touches down, out of breath. "Sorry! Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry! Most extreme apologetics omega! I was busily employed in finishing the laundry that I neglected last night because I was preoccupied with the surfing of the 'enter the nut' to find Terra some new furniture for her room and—"

"Starfire…," Robin gestures.

"---declare my sincerest regret for not arriving here sooner to join all of you in the consumption of the cheese and mustard wheels of Italia and—"

"Star!" Robin gently takes her hand and pulls her down to a chair. "It's okay…we're about to order. Keep it cool."

"…….," Starfire blinks. "But…I am sufficiently content with my temperature, Robin…"

Cyborg groans. "Oh jeez…there's a new one."

Beast Boy chuckles.

Terra smiles. "Wow…I swear. She's just so…."

"Hmmm?" Starfire looks over.

"You're cute, Starfire. You know that?"

"Oh….but you jest," she turns red.

"I'd say she's right on the money," Robin adds.

"What is that?"

"………erhm….."

"Waitress is coming!

"The waitress is coming! Yes…uhm…ordering time!"

"Terra is fixated on the economical tender in what way, Robin?"

"Ahem….I-I'll tell you later……."

"Heeeeee….!"

"……………" All this time, I've slowly started to glance back over at the 'Russian' table. And indeed, there is someone stealing glances at me. And I cannot for the life of me understand why. Not just in his case, but in that of all others. Boys steal glances at me. Maybe while I'm saving them from dangerous criminals. Maybe when the Titans and I are just walking through the streets of the City. It happens. And I don't ask for it too. I don't try to make myself look pretty. I'm not trying to gloat or be egotistical, but extreme amounts of makeup and hair-styling isn't just my thing. I believe in beauty…but I also happen to believe in practicality. And I wonder what it is that inspires random strangers like these to glance at me. And—as my empathy is now letting me know—they do indeed experience infatuations with me. And I wonder why.

But not for long do I wonder. For it all comes slamming back to me so heavily that I remember why I brought a book to the 'pizza outing' to begin with. I only want to distract myself. From my friends—yes. But from those who don't know me half as well as my friends don't know me too.

I wonder if he knows that there's a demon inside of me. I wonder if he would care if or when I turned on him and his friends and his family and his civilization and his planet and his whole, doomed dimension?

I wonder if beauty is skin deep…but at the same time, hearts long for the fumes of the air when it's broken by a body and nothing thicker…

"Psst….Raven…gonna go talk to him?" Terra winks.

I look at her.

Does she know that I glanced back at him? I thought I was the only potential telepath here.

"You assume too much," I say.

"Hehehe…don't be cruel, Raven."

'Cruel'……

Am I really cruel?

I don't know Russian. I don't know sign-language. Never have I studied morse code or other secretive lingos. All I know….is the universal art of silence.

Silence.

I am silent as Starfire talks about her chore exploits.

I am silent as the pizza comes and everyone's eating the cheese and crust and grease but me.

I am silent during Beast Boy's anecdotes of fighting crime with the Doom Patrol…

And Cyborg's rantings about his latest Star Wars fanfic.

And finally….

As we leave the place….

I am silent as I pass by the table.

As I pass by him.

I sense his eyes following me for but a second….then falling to the ground in some sort of softly-cold defeat.

Outside…

On the sidewalks…

Halfway out to the T-Car….

Beast Boy walks to my side and whispers: "Raven? Come on…why do you have to do that?"

"Do what?"

"You could have at least said something to him! He looked like the sweetest thing in the world!"

I give him my trademark drone: "Obsessed fans come in all shapes and sizes. Just because he doesn't speak English doesn't mean I have to pity him."

"You don't know that!"

"It's all irrelevant."

"Darn it, Raven…," Beast Boy hops in front of me, blocking my path. "You're always doing this to yourself! Why don't you give a really sweet guy a try sometimes instead of being so cold and silent to every opportunity all the time?"

I glare at him. "Why would you care?"

"……………," he takes a deep breath. A slow…subtle frown crosses his features. "Never mind, Raven. I think you just answered my question…"

And….in a cold, silent brew of his own he turns around and walks off to join Terra by the T-Car.

"………..," I stand alone with the aftertaste of tea in my mouth. And somehow, my favorite quaff is strangely bitter to me.

I walk into the T-Car that afternoon with the same thought that is going through my head now that I crawl underneath the covers for a night's sleep.

Dear Azar…..

I hate myself so much…..