Disclaimer: I really wish I owned PoT. I don't own Gone, Gone, Gone by Phillip Phillips or Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol either.

I know that Atobe is going to seem OOC, but I assure you that was on purpose! I really saw him as a person who would be normal around one or two people only.

Thank you to everyone who has favorited or followed the story! It means a lot!

I stack the food containers full of homemade Yorkshire pudding, roast beef, mushroom risotto, and extra salted caramel cream puffs into a separate canvas bag as I hoist my backpack and sports bag into their rightful places. Poor Azuri, she was pulled into mixing duty again after she had innocently knocked on my door the night before. As much as she had protested, we had finished all our homework while we measured ingredients and I had made another mess in the kitchen.

The early morning's fresh air swirled around me as I skip down the path, looking at the rays of the sun that are starting to peek over the horizon. The chauffer opened a door to the limousine as I internally sighed, knowing it was pointless to insist that I could open my own doors. I murmured my gratitude as the chauffer shut the door and began driving to the unknown destination; I didn't even bother to ask since the chauffer was probably instructed to keep silent. Simply watching the sunrise while the car made its way to wherever we were going was satisfactory enough for me.

As I gaze out the window, buildings zip by as I remember past memories with whom I considered my best friend. I remembered getting him to wear a dress because I absolutely refused to-the picture was still the background on my phone-and our parents trying to teach us ballroom dancing. I was so awful he told me to just step on his feet as he attempted to lead. Even though we lived an ocean apart, it never stopped us from visiting and calling each other. I had not talked to him since I had found out about my father's will and with everything that had gone on since, it had slipped my mind.

His royal airhead always acted like a normal person around me, though I failed to see why. Despite my family's broad wealth, no one could ever tell. I did not wear the designer clothes unless if required by social gatherings. Even now, I was wearing my usual brown combat boots, medium-blue jeans, and a cream sweater with a big maroon bow on the front. My school uniform was safely stowed away in my backpack and I hoped that I didn't have to skip school.

The limo coasted to a stop in front of a huge school campus and I opened the door before the chauffer had the ability to. I smirked internally at my small victory as the chauffer instructed me to find the tennis courts because 'young master' was waiting there. I mutter my appreciation as I shut the door, clutching my three bags. I left before the chauffer could insist to carry my bags.

I meander around campus, following the signs to get to the tennis court. Finding it, I push the door that said 'athletes only' to get to the actual courts instead of the stands. After pushing open several doors, I am greeted with the sight of several tennis players crowded around the leader, whose back is to me. I let my bags fall to the ground and I pose against the wall, with my arms above my head while I smirk. He had taught me the pose when he found out that I was going to get my first interview in a magazine. He said it was essential to use that pose, but I never could get myself to do it.

I could see a few of the people crane their head, trying to look at me, while the leader failed to notice. I opened my mouth and let the tunes of a song flow from my lips. He always thought I had a good voice and tried to get me several voice contracts; I constantly declined, saying I only liked singing for a select few and not the world. Regardless, I knew he liked my voice.

"If I lay here," I sing in English, "If I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?"

He stopped talking and I didn't need to see his face to know that his lips twisted into a rare smile. It was not his predatory one, which he used during tennis, but an actual one that the human race seldom saw.

"Forget what we're told, before we get too old," I continue singing the intricate melody, "show me a garden that's bursting into life."

The tennis players in front of me are in shock as the leader with lilac-gray hair rotates towards me, the smile still plastered on his face. He takes unsteady steps towards me, as if he can't believe he is seeing me after so long.

"My queen," he purrs while sinking into a bow.

I chuckle at his greeting, the same one that he had done when we were six and acted as if we were the rulers of a great land.

I push myself off the wall and slowly walk towards him. "My king," I grin back and curtsy.

Suddenly, I find myself wrapped in his arms while he curses in German. "Damn you Sapphire. Do you have any idea how worried I was? You couldn't even give a single phone call. Do you know how I know you're here? My parents told me. MY PARENTS," he finishes with a yell.

Smiling at my nickname, I let my head fall on to his shoulder, knowing that he needed to hug me to convince himself that I was fine. He was as protective as my brother was, if not more. When we first met, he called me Sapphire because my name reminded him of various gemstones and my eyes reminded him sapphires.

I roll my eyes. "Sorry Keigo," I answer in German, "I know and I'm sorry. Everything happened so fast…"

"On top of it all, you're going to Rikkaidai," he continues his rant. "You could have come to Hyotei and would have been welcome here but no."

I let him seethe in German and finally interrupt with, "Goodness Keigo. You need to get yourself a girlfriend so you can stop worrying about me."

He leans back and extracts himself from me. "You're the only girl I need, Sapphire," he replies in Japanese while looking into my eyes solemnly.

I snort. I knew he meant that in the most brotherly and platonic way possible but his tennis players did not. Their jaws drop and I start to laugh at their assumption.

"Who is she?" one brown longhaired boy questioned bluntly.

I smirk and mimic Keigo. "Be awed by my prowess."

Keigo's right eye twitches as he fights the urge to face palm. "Sapphire…" he groans.

I grin at him cheekily and turn back towards the tennis players, "Okay, okay. Just call me Klysen."

"Where's Jirou?" Keigo asks the longhaired boy.

He just points to the stands where a person was dozing away on his back.

"Oi Keigo, give me your racket," I demand. He wordlessly hands it to me and I pick up a tennis ball near my feet. Tossing it up in the air, I bend backwards and then spring up, connecting the ball with the strings. I didn't have to watch to know that the ball was going to hit the orange haired boy on the nose.

"AHH!" he screams, bolting upright.

I smirk, twirl the racket, and hand it back to Keigo. "So, not that I mind, but why exactly am I here?" I question, ignoring the shock on the regulars' faces.

"Oh I wanted to see you. And to tell you that you're coming over this weekend because my parents want to see you. And that I'm picking you up after school today because we haven't seen each other for a while and this morning isn't enough to catch up."

My eyes widen. "No way. You are not coming to my school and picking me up. I can take a bus or something but no."

He snorts and I know it's pointless to argue.

"Ugh, fine. And how am I getting back to school? I have to be there in forty minutes."

"Helicopter or jet? Your choice."

I felt like strangling Keigo. Why couldn't he be normal? He knew very well that school would start soon and I would be forced to pick one. I felt like a caged animal as I muttered, "You win this time. Helicopter."

He smirks sadistically and I pick up my backpack and sports bag.

"Oh, I left food for Kabaji in that bag. I thought he might be missing English food," I said looking back.

I got the same monosyllabic reply I normally got but I could tell that the idea of English food made him happy. We had met through Keigo when I visited him in England and he never said anything to me other than, "Usu." Regardless, his demeanor seemed happier as I put my hands on the door to exit the courts.

"Wait!"

I paused, leaving the door half-way open.

"I…I just wanted to say you have a nice voice," said a silver-haired boy with a cross around his neck. He didn't look me in the eye, and instead stared at his feet. I didn't miss the slight pink tint on his cheeks.

I let my voice soften. "Thank you very much," and I exit the courts with a smile on my face. I would remember him.

I cursed Keigo as the helicopter deposited me onto the rooftop garden of Rikkaidai. It was my second day of school and I was not in dress code. I bounded down the stairs and pushed past the people in the hallway so I could safely slip into a bathroom to change into my uniform and the proper shoes. The stalls suddenly seemed too small as I hopped on one foot, trying to get my stockings up my feet. I missed the lack of uniforms in Portland.

I sighed as I exited the stall while fixing my tie and lugging my bags on my back. Several girls turned towards me with malicious expressions.

"What were you doing yesterday on the tennis courts, hm?"

"Yeah, and in such revealing clothing too? If you're trying to get close to the tennis team, that's never going to work."

"Sluts like you are the reason the tennis team keep the gates to the courts closed."

Revealing clothing? I guess they were talking about my swim suit. I ignored the girls as they angrily spoke and I walked out the door. Walking briskly to my class, I plopped in my seat as soon as the history teacher strode through the doorway.

I looked sideways to Azuri, who listened intently. History was always my worst subject. The awful subject was the main theme of half my nightmares. What was the point of learning about the past? I looked to the left to the other person next to me; the pinkish-redhead scribbles notes while pausing occasionally to look at the teacher. Marui, Marui Bunta. His amethyst-colored eyes are wide open as he chews his gum slowly.

I glanced to the person who sat behind him. The spiky silver-haired guy who had thrown a tennis ball at me on the rooftop garden was smirking as the teacher turned around, squatted upon her chair, and then screamed. "Puri," he says quietly as Marui chuckles.

"Classic prank, but good every time Niou," Marui whispers. Niou simply smiles back.

The teacher tries to grope at her posterior to find the thumbtack. She ends up falling backwards to my horror. I was about to stand up to help her but the door slides open and a short boy peers in.

"Teacher, I have come to deliver the message that Niou, Marui, and Klysen are to see Suzuki-sensei," he said, failing to notice the state of the teacher.

The three of us stood up before the teacher could dismiss us and hastily shoved our supplies into our backpacks, wanting to flee the awkward scene. I caught Azuri's eye and her expression said 'you better tell me what happened after.' I smile and followed Niou and Marui out the door.

I stay silent as they begin to argue about what we were being summoned for.

"Niou, it's totally your fault. You played a prank on three teachers today!" Marui exclaimed.

"What about your gum habit? That's not allowed in school either," Niou retorted.

"Why are you being roped into this, Klysen?" Marui asks, turning towards me.

My cheeks turn pink as I remember the helicopter landing on the rooftop garden a few hours before. "I may or may not have landed a helicopter on a school building," I mutter.

Marui and Niou look at each other and burst out laughing in disbelief, making me turn redder.

"Oh, and I disturbed tennis practice yesterday," I continue.

Their eyes widen.

"That was…" Niou starts.

"You?" Marui finishes.

I nod, biting my lip and grasping the straps of my bag as we walk past many classrooms.

"Well, it's been a long time since I've seen Sanada get so mad. I swore I saw a vein pop out on his forehead," Niou grins. "Congratulations, I officially respect you."

"Niou is the prankster on the tennis team. He takes pride in making the vice-captain, Sanada, mad," Marui explains before blowing a gum bubble. "Me? I'm the genius on the team."

I smile at the self-proclaimed genius and just say, "I'm sure you are."

Niou groans as Marui starts to describe his genius-like abilities.

I slide open the door to the sight of the blue-haired teenager and several others in front of a Suzuki-sensei's desk.

"Ah, Klysen. I've been waiting," he begins ominously. "What's this I hear about helicopters?"

My cheeks turn red as I try to stammer my explanation.

"Wait, you weren't joking?" Niou asks, shocked.

Suzuki-sensei starts to laugh, interrupting my stammering and the boys' whispers. "Relax, not only was it funny, but also the owner of the helicopter sent a message to the school warning us ahead of time. Sure it wasn't allowed, but we can't really blame you."

I exhale and visibly unwind, letting go of the terror of being in trouble for letting a helicopter land on the school roof.

"However," he continues while I tense up again. "I watched a couple of videos of your latest performances."

I nod and interject, "I finished cleaning the pool yesterday. It's ready for use."

"I see. However, you will not be swimming in it until tomorrow morning. I called you all here to inform you that Klysen is going to be joining your afternoon tennis practices."

I blinked back at him, confused. "What?" the other tennis regulars repeated my thoughts.

"She has experience in tennis, so I have no doubt that she will be able to keep up with your practices. She needs to do so because of her weak shoulders."

I cursed internally. Not many people noticed that while I was swimming. When I was coasting through the water, I used my legs and my torso to propel myself. My arms seemed useless half the time. He had researched me thoroughly, knowing that I used to play tennis. As shrewd as he was to pick up the minute details, I seriously doubted this idea to improve shoulder strength.

"Klysen, this is a type of training exercise. Every morning you will have swim practice starting at six and every afternoon you will train with men's tennis team. Do you understand?"

My mouth opened and nothing came out of it. "Not exactly," I whispered back while my coach looked at me expectantly. "Why the men's tennis team? The girl's team would work just fine."

Suzuki-sensei snorts. "Really? You know the answer to that question. They're too weak for you to train with and they'll inhibit your performance in the water."

"So let me get this straight," the blue-haired teen said. "You want Klysen to train with the men's tennis regulars so she can thrash around in the pool?"

"Yes Yukimura. That's exactly what I want," my coach answers with a smile.

"Very well then," he responds softly. "This will be interesting."

"You are all dismissed," the coach orders. "Klysen, you are to follow the orders of whoever is in charge of tennis practice as if I am giving you the command."

We all bow before we step through the doorway. As soon as the door is shut, a colorful array of words are spit out from my mouth in at least four different languages.

"Ugh," I moan, running my fingers through my tresses and wishing that it was socially acceptable to start banging my head against the wall.

"Heh," a curly-haired boy with green eyes smirked. "You won't last three days."

I looked at him, the over-confident boy who doubted me and I realized he was a second-year. I smirked and disheveled the hair of the slightly shorter seaweed head.

"That's not a good way to talk to your elders," I croon. "Besides, you look like an overgrown puppy, all bark and no bite."

He made a small sound, protesting.

"It will be a pleasure training with you," said a familiar voice.

I turn and see the same person who helped me move equipment yesterday, Yagyuu. I smile back gratefully, glad that one person wasn't protesting the situation.

The rest of the regulars seemed mute as we walked back to our classes. I felt awful, insignificant, and like an intruder who had no right peeking into the lives of others. I clutch my fists out of frustration and I push down the feeling of wanting to scream out of aggravation.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I had no idea this would happen. I am sorry."

The bald-headed person looks at me and said, "Relax. It will all be fine."

I give a small smile back as a response and whip out my phone to frantically text Keigo of the awful news. The bell for lunch rings and I get separated from the regulars as I get swept away with the crowd.

"Yanagi, do you know who she is now?" Yukimura asked, his mouth set into a fine line.

"Klysen Jade, middle name Sayuri, goes by both Jade or Sayuri. Age 14 and Blood type O positive. Seventy-five percent Belgian and twenty-five percent Japanese, her Japanese blood comes from her grandmother. She previously lived in Portland in the US and is fluent in several languages, though unknown exactly how many. Her brother taught her the basics of tennis and they competed together as a mixed doubles team for fun. Her brother currently goes to Cornell University in the US and, if he wishes, may go pro. She is a well-known swimmer in the age group circuit in the US and is transitioning to the senior circuit; there are several reports on her in swimming and sports magazines. She is said to be invited to the US Olympic Trials next year and may have gotten an invitation from Belgium and Japan as well. She swims in high-level meets but seemed to have withdrawn from competition two months ago, when she only went to practice and stopped competing. She only plays tennis for fun and is known for her high energy and acrobatic tricks. She is said to be extremely intelligent but dislikes showing off her intelligence. She has a sweet tooth and likes baking. Family is rich but she does not display it. She also has a connection to Atobe Keigo, but it is unsure what the connection is." Yanagi pants slightly, from saying so much in two breaths.

I blow a gum bubble, letting the familiar apple taste calm me down. Olympic Trials? She seemed like a genius, more so than I proclaimed. It seemed so unusual that a normal girl would be so accomplished. All that I truly knew, not the stuff that Yanagi spouted, was that her unusual blue eyes and auburn hair seemed to linger in my thoughts. When I was standing next to her, I smelled the combination of something sweet and chlorine. Her amazing baking skills create cream puffs that were unrivaled. Moreover, I knew that she seemed different from most girls, and that intrigued me. She was like Pocky, sweet, different textures layered on top of each other, and damn now I feel hungry.

I could see the shock reflected on Niou's face as well. "How does she manage to get a helicopter on a school roof and get away with it?" he mutters. I roll my eyes, knowing that if Niou tried, he would be stuck on cleaning duty for the rest of his life and Sanada would make him run hundreds of laps.

Kirihara pouts, put off by her friendly attitude. Ever since he was a first year, he was used to snarky attitudes towards him, doubting his abilities. He reacted with sarcasm and overconfidence. He reminded me of my brothers, which is why I tried convincing him to come back and play tennis. The boy was a focused tennis player, usually slaughtering opponents: sometimes figuratively and sometimes literally. We accepted that part of him though, knowing it was part of who he is, and we had no right to change that. Klysen had a remarkable response to him: instead of insulting him, she treated Kirihara the same way the regulars did. Sanada was too uptight to show his fondness for Kirihara, but everyone cared for the younger tennis player.

Whatever it was, Klysen was a girl to be watched. She was everything that most girls weren't.

I panted with my hands on my knees, sweat dripping down my forehead and my messy ponytail slightly waved in the light breeze. My stomach grumbled as I attempted to push away the thoughts of food and failed. I chewed my gum faster, as if that would make my stomach less empty.

"When you're done with laps," the scary vice-captain yelled, "get on the court and start tie-breaker matches! Only go to twelve points, ties are allowed!"

I moaned internally, fed up with the tennis workout and with the multiple people on the court murmuring while looking in my direction. As if I couldn't even tell. The fan girls surrounding the practice court seemed furious that I was practicing with the tennis regulars. I wiped my sweaty palms on my Nike shorts and cotton t-shirt as I picked up my racket and got on the court. Everyone had paired up and Jackal- who was ditched by his doubles partner for Kirihara-was the only one left. I poked him in the back with the racket and he turned.

"Um, can you play with me? No one else is left," I mumble, looking at my feet.

He smiles and nods and walks on to the court. I follow, still put down by today's events.

"You can serve first," I said, before walking to the other side of the net. I sigh, dejected.

Jackal throws the ball into the air and slices it with his racket, making the ball travel fast to my side of the court. I withered under the glance of the captain and vice-captain as they seemed to blame me for messing with their practice. I barely hit it back as I retreat into the depths of my mind, remembering what had happened today. Before I had realized, the ball was rolling next to my feet and the call of "1-0, Jackal," was made.

I clutched my brother's tennis rack harder in my hand and suddenly heard the voice of a person I didn't expect.

"Dirty babe, you see these shackles? Baby I'm your slave," Keigo wiggles his eyebrows as he attempts to sway his hips while warbling in his fake singing voice. His real voice was so much better but this voice was the one he used to make fun of me or embarrass me. In this case, it was the second.

My face turned red as Keigo continues to make a fool of us both outside the courts' fences. "I'll let you whip me if I misbehave," he serenades in English.

"KEIGOOO!" I thunder. I feel a vein pop on my forehead as I let all my anger from today explode.

He smirks back at me. "What, you have a problem with my singing? Tell it to me after you win the match."

My racket drops to the ground and I bend over to pick it up. Smiling, I tuck a side-bang behind my ear as I feel his reassuring presence. The captain and vice-captain walk over to talk to him, no doubt asking why an enemy captain was on their turf.

I breathe in, letting all of the negative energy escape, and open my mouth. "You're my backbone, you're my cornerstone, you're the crutch when my legs stop moving," I let the notes surge from my lips as people on the court pause to hear the sound. "You're my head start, you're my rugged heart, you're the pulse that I've always needed."

Keigo shoots a smile at me between the questions of interrogation, showing that he got what I was trying to say through the lyrics. My voice fades as I turn back to the court. It was my serve and I would not let him touch the ball. I toss the ball up, bend back, and spring up; the same way my brother taught me to serve, I pant slightly from the exertion and my shoulder aches, but I beam at the service-ace. Jackal gasps at the unexpected speed.

"Hey, you can make a call now," I said to the person sitting in the umpire chair and blowing a gum bubble.

"1-1," he stutters.

I smirk and get in position for Jackal's serve. He smacks the ball and I return it easily. My movements felt more fluid and as if I was ready to take on the world. The rally between me and Jackal intense as neither of us is willing to back down, even for a simple tie-break practice game. Jackal hits a curved shot to the opposite corner and I gasp. I wouldn't be able to reach it, unless I showed my flexibility.

I took a few running steps and launch myself parallel to the ground, reaching for the ball. I successfully hit an underspin to his open side as I use a free arm as a balance, placing it on the ground and allowing my body to somersault sideways in the air. The powerful spin I put on the ball bounces away from Jackal as he fails to hit it.

"2-1."

The intense rally continues until the game is 6-5, with me in the lead. I grin at the fact that a girl was beating Jackal and several people are watching the match, murmuring at the fact that a girl who had popped out of nowhere was somehow leading. With his several cries of "fire!" and my fluid movements in the air, the atmosphere crackled with excitement.

Jackal twisted at his wrist, removing the wristband weights. My shoulders ached with the swinging of the rackets. I threw the ball up into the air and was promptly interrupted.

"Sapphire! If you don't win this, I'm dragging you shopping!" Keigo yells.

I miss the ball, fall on my stomach, and the ball hits me on top of the head.

"Fault!"

"I DON'T WANT TO GO SHOPPING!" I scream back, horrified. The last two times forced me to go shopping with him, he dragged me to Milan and New York City. He justified the second one by insisting that he at least kept the city of choice in the same country of where I resided.

I toss the ball up and let the strings connect with the ball. The boy across the net seemed to be sweating bullets, but I felt wary, hearing from the commentary of the surrounding spectators that he was known for his stamina. The rally continues and I decide to finish it when he lobs the ball into the air.

"NO SHOPPING!" I scream, as I launch myself into the position of a smash. Jackal runs towards the baseline, anticipating the shot. I smirk and change my movements right before hitting the ball, and I let the drop shot quietly bounce on to his side of the court.

"7-5," the referee calls, shocked, "Klysen wins."

I reach across the net to shake hands with Jackal.

His hand slides into mine and looks me dead in the eye, "It seems that we underestimated you, Klysen."

"Rule one of tennis," I said, remembering what my brother had told me years ago, "don't underestimate your opponents."

The silence on the court is unnerving as Jackal and I broke our handshake.

"So," I spoke out loud, "I assume practice is over?"

The tennis regulars just blinked back at me.

"Well, I'll take that as a yes," I declare. "I'm hungry." I stop by the edge of the courts and pick up my sports bag. I wave to the regulars who are still trying to figure out what happened. I push open the gate to the court.

"I'm still taking you shopping you know," Keigo grins, sauntering over.

"I don't want to go shopping," I mutter. "We'll probably end up in London this time."

He pulls something out of his pocket. "Here, I got you these as a welcome-to-Japan present," he says, handing me the strips of paper.

"Keigo," I roll my eyes, "stop spending money on me. What did you do this time, hm?" I look at the papers and my eyes widen.

"I thought you would like it," he said.

I stare at the five 30 Second to Mars tickets and VIP passes in my hands.

"Yeah, Orange Range or something is opening for them. I don't typically like this kind of music, but I knew you would."

I throw my arms around him while I squeal, "Thank you! Thank you!" repeatedly, while clutching the papers that gave me access to one of my favorite bands, which was coming to Tokyo in two weeks.

Keigo chuckles as he wraps his arms around me and squeezes once. I hear the bushes nearby rustle suspiciously and I glance over at the plant. Keigo lets go as I walk away from him and towards the bush. Out topples several boys that I had seen this morning.

"We were just trying to find out about Atobe's girlfriend," a black haired boy smirked in a deep baritone voice while pushing up his glasses.

I laugh. "Keigo, we need to explain us to them."

He growls.

I bump hips with him, smiling. "Let's take them to a café so we can explain."

"Very well, ore-sama will show his generosity," he declares.

I roll my eyes at his narcissistic personality and the group of boys follows us towards the spacious limo.

"Jackal, you were only playing at your fifty percent strength, weren't you?" Yanagi cuts through the silence after seeing the tiebreak game with Klysen.

"I underestimated her. I should have taken off my wrist weights earlier," he said back, still shocked.

"Heh," Kirihara grins, "I take back what I said about her."

I smile, thinking about how she screamed she hated shopping. Who exactly was this girl? She shattered all my expectations; she did not seem like the blushing girl who told me that she landed a helicopter on a school building. She was not one of the fan girls who ran after me with sweets in their hands. I'm a genius, and I can't figure this girl out.

"Tarundoru!" Sanada yelled. "Jackal, you are doing extra laps for losing."

I look at her. Her strands of her auburn hair are plastered to her face by sweat as her glossy ponytail swishes when she turns her head. She suddenly clasps her arms around Atobe and he folds her into his arms. I look away from their moment. I guess she was not that different from most girls, judging from the fact that she threw herself on him. It would have been better if she ran after someone on the Rikkaidai tennis team; at least she was not a gold digger then.

"Eighty-six percent chance that they are dating. Ninety-two percent chance that they will if they aren't already," Yanagi murmurs.

I blew a gum bubble, trying to ignore the sudden pain in my chest. It must be from disappointment. Klysen disappointed me. I pushed away thoughts of her unusual eyes, clear voice, and cream puffs as I walked away from the courts. Maybe a game at the arcade would cheer me up.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, favorite, and followed! I am really thankful for all of the comments.

I know most people are going to think Atobe is out of character, and in a way he is. But I'm still going to make him have the pompous attitude he's famous for, just not around Jade Sayuri Klysen.

Please review, favorite, and follow!