"That was quite expensive," Sayori commented.

"I could buy a ton of manga," Natsuki replied back.

I'm fucking upset.

I walked dejectedly to the car, and glumly sat onto the seat, with every one buckling up their seat belts.

Monika crept beside me, lips parted.

"Can we talk... privately? I'd like to tell you something." Monika asked. I nodded, and stepped out.

"Hey guys, just wait here. Me and Monika, she wants to discuss something," I said before closing the door. Walking no more than six steps away, private, Monika stared at me.

"I know you've been feeling down after the price tag," Monika stated.

I snicker. "No kidding."

"I might know what could cheer you up."

Cheer my fucking money back up? Bullshit.

"Check your phone," Monika demanded.

"Okay," I complied, fiddling with my pocket, my hands clasping onto my phone.

"Check your bank account."

I tapped the app for the bank account and-

Holy fucking shit.

AMOUNT: $5,000.00

"How the fuck..."

"Surprised?" Monika giggled. "This is what I haven't been telling you. When we entered this city, I had a sense of control. And then I had a control of your credit card. And now, I'm honing my skills." She went closer to me, and put her hand on my shoulder. She pointed at a TV sign for some dumb coffee.

"Now, if I'm doing this correctly, I can turn this off and add something else to that sign," she assured me. "3, 2, 1..."

For half a second, I fucking swore that I saw "Monika" written on cursive letters.

"Holy fuck." I swore.

"Okay... I'll have to stop that before people can suspect. Can we go back?"

I catched my breath for a little bit.

"Sure."

We headed home, and I exhaustedly lied down on the sofa. What a fucking day. But I'm still tired. Tired after Monika's magical shit, the price tag and that fucking encounter with the shitty Claire de'Lune, whatever the fuck her last name is-what kind of person name themselves de'Lune, that's fucking pretentious.

"By the way guys, throw your clothes at the laundry. I mean my clothes, you're wearing my clothes. Feel free to wear the things we bought," I slurred glumly.

Silence.

Well I'll take that as a fucking yes.

Monika crept beside me, with my clothes, a Hansen t-shirt but the bottom text is Nirvana. I'm estimating about no people got pissed off, and it's great, because all Kiwis (New Zealanders, who name themselves a fucking armless bird and a fruit) ever fucking like is 60's Rock and Roll music and Kiwi-made music, which is basically a toddler's fucking cries to foreigners. That includes me, cause I'm fucking American-Kiwi. I grew up in the US of A. And that's a euphemism for USA, if you didn't notice. I only came here because of a work opportunities, with a slightly higher pay than my normal fucking job.

"Hey Jeremy..."

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

"Not really, if you ask me."

"Would you like me to make you a drink?" She smiled cheerfully.

"Sure..."

"You got it," she grinned, proceeded with a wink. Then, she sauntered in the kitchen.

Imagination started to spark and die down as the sparks ended, with my entire self dozing off.

Monika

Sparks fly as I prance into the kitchen, looking in the fridge. I could imagine the hi-hats and the ride cymbals gently sweeping with the snares and the kick in a beautiful symphony as I browsed a new thing called 'Jazz' on his phone. The trumpets blare, with sweet bouncy harmonies. I grabbed oranges and lemons out of the fridge. I was going to make a great iced tea for Jeremy.

Fuck. I'm getting uncontrollably in love with him.

Wait. What's that feeling? Is that my panties twisting? Shit. Wait... Fuck. They're dampening. Fuck. FUCK!

I poured water over the electric kettle and waited it to steam. Muscles fire as I twirl around the room, the drums and the trumpets blaring, and realized for about two minutes later that this was boring me and tiring me straight to hell. And so I waited. The recipe called for it. Well, there wasn't really a recipe, it was just all around improvisation.

I leaned my elbows onto the kitchen table near the cabinets.

I sighed sharply.

I think of Jeremy once again as I start to get feel hotter and hotter, like a tight embrace with a lover. It gets hotter and hotter, sweat starts to accumulate. I smiled as I thought of him pushing me aggressively to the wall, restraining me as I wrap around his torso with my legs, us staring at each other piercingly. I give him a seductive grin, while he makes a modest smile. He always does that. He's cute any time. God, he was fucking fabulous when I laid my eyes on him. Then, we start kissing. Aggressively. I squirm against the wall, and my hair being fondled by him. Yes, I have a hair fetish. Don't judge. Some like licking eye balls. Real thing. Look it up in something called Google.

Ahh It was so good, as my body pulsed with pleasure, feeding my veins-Okay, this is getting too descriptive. Sorry. All I could say it was good. It was good... good fun, as his tongue shoved into my mouth, and then it started to pulse and circle around his. It gave me a whimper then-SHIT. Sayori's here. Act natural. Act all natural.

"Hello, Sayori," I smiled gleefully at her.

"Do you know where the food is? I'm kind of hungry."

Shit.

I checked the fridge and I found half a bar of chocolate. And it was perfectly sliced, so Jeremy won't have left bite marks on it, which is pretty disgusting. But to me, I could lick those all-okay, I gave Sayori the chocolate bar. Her eyes twinkle by the sheer size.

"Thank you Monika!" She smiled.

"No problem," I replied back.

Suddenly, the water has been heated.

I bring the tea bags in, and peeled a lemon, adding the peels in for flavor and squeezed aggressively, like I would smash the heart of Claire de'Lune, two wedges of lemon. I also sliced three wedges of orange and squeeze it aggressively, again, in a manner of crushing the heart of anyone that wants to threaten Jeremy specifically with the name of Claire de'Lune, into the mix. I also grabbed a tablespoon of honey that I'm guessing he never used, which is five months away from the expiration date, into the mix.

I mixed the concoction gently so it wouldn't splash like the juices accumulating in my-well... I can't say that, can I? No. That would be bad for the audience. Shit. Ah. The irony. Anyway, I mixed it, and with a spoon I grabbed the lemon peels I added in the glass and threw it in the place of Claire de'Lune, the fucking trash. I put it in the fridge. And... I see a bottle. It's so... elegant. In the front it says Jack Daniel's. What a weird name for an ominous looking drink.

I grabbed the stout bottle and poured a little bit to a cup. It looked brown. It looked like savory soup. Well, it's filled with mystery. I haven't read anything on the bottle yet. Eh, I scoffed. It would be nice to try things without you knowing it.

I grabbed the cup and started to down it-

...

Holy fucking shit.

It's fucking awful.

I gagged inside my mouth, and spewed it out on the sink, where it glumly downed away into the drain.

I feel... shitty now.

I'm putting it fucking back. No way I'm gonna fucking try that again. That is fucking awful. Why would fucking Jeremy drink something this fucking shitty?! And there's only a quarter left. Is he fucking chugging this shit-brown shit acid? What the fuck?! Why would someone make a fucking thing like that? Fucking hell. Jesus Christ.

Never again.

With the shitty taste in my mouth lingering, I waited.

...

"Jeremy..." I unconsciously muttered under my breath... God... I want him... I mustn't beg him...

It's torture.

I must do something to get one step nearer with him.

I must do something.

...

I love you, Jeremy.

Jeremy

"Jeremy..."

I jolted up.

Monika sweetly displayed her affectionate smile and in her hand was a brownish-red iced concoction.

This must be her drink that she wanted to do for me.

"Thanks," I smiled.

I sipped haphazardly.

Holy shit.

I sipped fully again, taking in the drink.

"Well, do you like it?"

"Yes, I do..." I assured her back.

"Listen," she sighed. "I think we should talk about something."

"Like what?"

"About Claire."

I sipped again, even more greater this time.

"Claire," I sighed, with my face purely blank. "Claire de'Lune-" I snapped back and looked at her. "What do you want to find out about Claire de'Lune? I can tell you all about her."

"I'm doing the talking now," Monika looked at me. "Claire's in love with you."

"I'm sorry?"

"She's in love with you."

"Well," I sipped the iced tea again. "That's a bold deduction. What makes you think about that?"

"Well, she really wants you. Have you seen her eyes? She's trying to seduce you."

"She always does that. And that all was broken because of that one comment you make. By the way, how did you know that she doesn't have stable relationships? That's a question right there."

"I guessed. And really, was it true?"

"Yes. It was. You hit the fucking bullseye on that one," I sipped again. "Really did."

"Do you realize that nonsensical monologue that you interrupted about me and the others was about getting rid of us so she can be with you?"

"You mean, the one that she said 'your friends, did they force you to come here' crap?"

"Yes..."

"Well, I'll be damned." I sighed. "You got me."

Silence.

"Wait," I realized. "Are you just saying this because you are just jealous of Claire?"

"What-no..." Monika's cheeks formed a pinkish tint. "What are you t-talking about? I'm not jealous!"

"Monika..." I scolded her, with an eyebrow raised. "Admit it."

"Fine," she grunted. "I'm jealous of Claire," she stood up, peeved with a very flashy beet red on her face. She slowly walked away.

She gave me one last serious glare.

"But you and me can agree that she is a fucking horrible person."

I lied down, tired with Monika away from my view.

Goddamn sleepy.

I checked my phone as I clasped it out of my pocket.

The website still on confirmed everything. A devilish smile was filled to the brim.

...

YOUR BOOKING HAS BEEN CONFIRMED.

...

A/N: Let's go straight into the reviews! BTW sorry if this isn't as long

Eku: Thanks for that! I will keep it up. I will. ...

connor M N: Thanks! I try to make it as descriptive so it's not vague. Because, I hate vagueness. Except crypticness, I like that kind of writing.

One supporter: Thanks! and it's hilarous, oh wow. i don't even think my work is a little bit funny.

PheonixBJB: Thanks! Yeah, I really just got inspired by 'Beyond the Monitor's Grave'. Really good story, if you haven't read that one. Also a DDLC fanfic.

Simply Guardian: SHE DO NOT KNOW DA WAE. SPIT MY BROTHAS. by the way thanks for that very insightful review