Hello again, everyone! After a break from this story that was way too long in my opinion, I have returned with another chapter full of Simmone and Bender. I would like to say thank you so much to everyone for reading, reviewing, favouriting etc... this story. I cannot believe the response it has gotten and it feels great that people like my work. So, thank you and this brand new chapter that you've been waiting for for ages is dedicated to you all! Thank you and I hope you enjoy.

~Vogue xox

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" I ask in an anxious tone to Bender who is already towing me across the vibrantly congested road to our destination, a seemingly isolated fast food cafe where the color of scarlet red lures you in as if under some enthralling spell. My question is greeted with a boisterous chuckle, like there is some amusement Bender can elicit from my worries.

"Even if it wasn't, it's all life experience. Plus, remember that rush I was talking about?" he smirks, jittering just for the effect, exhibiting the so-called rush.

Has my life really been that monotonous that I can't even sense the electric feeling? I think I need to get out more. Maybe Bender has more outlandish adventures to offer outside of detention? This morning, with my own outlook, I saw Bender as nothing more than some deviant kid who practically lived in detention. However, now that I know more of his characteristics that have somewhat charmed me, I am beginning to see another side to him. He's an intelligent guy and alluring in some sense with a sagacious trait that never seems to emerge out of an individual's company. I'm pretty glad I've seen this side to him.

"Yeah, I remember alright!" I laugh and propel this withering instinct to not accompany him aside. Merrily skipping next to Bender earns me a heightened brow, which I decide to mirror. "I'm surprised that a rebel like you would find skipping in public distasteful, Bender"

John merely snorts at this remark, but his molten chocolate orbs laugh out of nothing but merriment at the fact I have dared to defy him yet again. I wonder whether he gets turned on by someone challenging authority, whether a spark inside of him is only ignited by witnessing a person breach these guidelines set by adults. It is an odd musing, something I seldom think about. However, I have observed how thrilled Bender becomes, like a little boy in a candy store surrounded by sugary delights, when facing danger or something that will make him a slave to unconformity. I glance back at him, realizing that I have stopped skipping for some strange reason. Those eyes continue to scrutinize me and now I realize something else. It wasn't my own decision to stop the playful act, but the fact he was watching me make a fool out of myself.

"Who said it was distasteful? Frankly, I like seeing those tits of yours move up and down like that" he says in a rather sultry, low voice. From retrospect, one would see this as pure arrogance. I wish I could see it as that, but I know it isn't. He survives from the reaction. He lives for the ferocity and frustration that exudes from a person when he insults them. There is something magical about it, something about how his need to irritate someone captivates me.

"Go to hell, Bender" I growl, endeavouring my hardest not to laugh at this.

I do not slow down nor do I quicken my pace. Simply, I ensure my pace is equal to his. Suddenly, I feel a summery exhale, the aroma of cigarettes and mints mingling, expand over my ear.

"I've been intending to go there all my life, sweets" he whispers. I feel his plump, bottom lip drag itself nonchalantly up my earlobe, his teeth clamping gently down on my earring for a second. "Meet me there some time, I heard Hell is famous for excellent barbeques"

I slant my head to look at him incredulously after snickering a little at the banal joke. His jokes are the worst things I have heard on this earth, but I love listening to them and they somehow make me laugh nonetheless.

"Your jokes suck, Bender" I say, my voice lifeless.

"I heard your mouth does the same to certain things"

"Yeah, a banana. And I wouldn't call it sucking"

"Actually, I was thinking something else. More like someone else according to a certain friend of mine"

He's such a bad liar and knows how to push my buttons. I wonder if he is the same with everyone else he has encountered during his elongated incarceration at various Saturday detentions.

"You shit!" I yell, instantly marching away from him with a blistering rage being imprinted in my footprints.

"Aw, c'mon, Nightingale? Don't tell me that you've never done it before" Bender chuckles as he jogs over to me and spins me around. Like the stubborn girl I am, I retaliate by pushing him away.

"No, I haven't" Suddenly, some weird urge overcomes me. I remove the earring that he teasingly bit earlier on and flick it at him.

Seemingly Bender has some sort of expertise in catching various small objects as he catches it in his leather hand immediately. However, he doesn't look down at it. Instead, he looks intently into my eyes. In those eyes that are chained to mine through the invisible air, I see a mixture of sadness, bewilderment and slight admiration. If this certain feeling could possess a name, I would name it nostalgia. I, myself, do not understand how giving him my earring could instigate such a feeling. What could an earring that cost me a dollar from some friend at school dig up something implanted in Benders bank of memories? I grow curious.

"I was hoping it would shut you up" I say, placing my hand on my hip. Bender still doesn't remove his eyes from me. Hesitation etches them. What the hell is up with him? "It's just an earring"

"Just an earring?" Bender snaps, making me jump a little as his volume increases, the joking tone now a ghost. "What do you mean just an earring? You wear it every day, do you not?" I say nothing. "You wear this every single day, Nightingale. That means that this little thing means something to you"

"I bought it from a friend. It only cost me a dollar" I assert, my voice perhaps a little brazen. This somewhat audacious tone has been fuelled by my own perplexity as well as the annoyance that he is taking something in jest and converting it into a serious matter. "Dude, chill. I didn't mean anything by it. I just thought it would stop you from asking me questions that I really don't wish to answer"

"Make you feel uncomfortable?" he asks. It both infuriates and amuses me how effortlessly he can change the subject. However, when a subject change arises, it means that his taunting side starts to manifest itself.

"Why are you making such a big deal out of an earring?" I can't help but splutter out laughter as I make my inquiry.

The whole thing just seemed illogical and blown out of proportion. Bender sharply inhales, an irate expression on his face as he fumbles with the earring in his own ear. He aggressively seizes my wrist and slaps the earring in the palm of my hand before storming away. I uncurl my slender fingers, seeing a clear diamond earring resting on a bed of bronzed skin. Its flawless, but its like some unconventional declaration of undying love. However, this love is not for me.

"Where'd you get this from? Looks like something Claire Standish would wear" I say, running over to his side. Bender is fixated on the indistinguishable cracks in the asphalt ground, so fixated that he's almost enamoured with it, as if solving some riddle related to them. Bender truly is an enigma. I'm not sure whether this fixation has allowed him to notice my presence yet.

"She did wear it" Bender says clearly, continuing to walk.

Claire Standish is someone who I would define as being admired by a particular group in the school. Whether the veneration is a pretence or genuine, she is popular. I have had sporadic contact with her during my time at school and from my brief interactions with her in gym class, I find her somewhat reserved and it is clear she has a strong insecurity, more insecurity than one would think a popular girl would have. She's a good looking girl and is a person who I don't find insufferable to be around. Claire is okay, but it is almost like she is afraid of hanging out or being seen with someone outside the world of popularity.

"Why would she give you an earring? You're out of the so-called elite circle" I state.

It may sound blunt, but it is true. Bender is frowned upon by the popular group, including Claire whose exact words were when questioned about a rumour that she and Bender hooked up after one Satuarday detention was 'Who's that?', then after a moment of consideration, she finally said 'Oh, him! I didn't even talk to him'. According to Claire, all she did in detention was eat sushi, daydream and write some miniature essay. Others who were in that certain Saturday detention were also interrogated. None of them responded. The only gesture that signified their refusal to answer or the rumours held no validity, or that the rumours were true but they could say nothing without facing unfair criticism, was a shaking of the head before retreating to silence. Then, I realise what happened.

"Those rumours were true, weren't they?" I ask. Bender stops, biting his lip, his breathing shallow.

Before I know it that plump bottom lip was touching mine. It was like some exotic dream where I was exiled from reality. Now that I repeat that in my mind, it sounds cliché. I wasn't expecting it in the slightest, nor was I expecting him to walk off afterwards. It was finished in an instance. There was nothing romantic about it. It was intense, wild. As I permitted myself to succumb to his lips tangling with mine in a fierce game, my eyes remained open out of shock. Nevertheless, I wanted more of it.

Damn you, Bender!

"Not so fast, Bender" I shout, running up to him and twisting him around so I can immediately lean into his muscular frame that emits that one thing I want more of – mystery. Before I can repeat what happened just a few minutes ago, Bender pushes his index finger against my lips, barring me from doing what I want.

"Not so fast, Nightingale" Bender chuckles, smirking at me. God, I hate him! Why does he feel so obliged to ridicule me? Without another word, he leaves me motionless as he leaves, walking over to fast food cafe.

"You shit! What the hell is wrong with you, huh? You get some sick kick from doing that to girls?" I yell, sprinting over to him with all the energy I have left from that need for him. My only aspiration is to use it all up, to be free of it. I move in front of him, my hands on my hips to declare the importance of this issue. I'm not letting him playing around, not this time.

"Don't pretend that you didn't like it" he chuckles. "Otherwise, why would you come back for more?"

"Why do you have Claire Standish's earring, Bender?" I ask, this time being my final time asking. I will get some information out of him. Even if I don't attain anything from this question, I already know that answer. "Or are you going to kiss me again to evade the question?"

"She gave it to me. As for kissing you," Bender says, walking away with me following in an equal stride "I did it because I wanted to"

"Ah, so it wasn't to evade the question at all" I reply, grinning at him out of triumph. I enjoy it when I can challenge him with such questions, to see that joy of being able to say something else to annoy me dance on his facial features.

"Nah, just wanted to see your reaction" Bender opens the door to the frantic fast food cafe where the treasured aroma of grease and hungry customers fills the air. Different characters pass us by, one of them being someone Bender apparently knows as he pats the man's back. I didn't get a chance to see his face fully, but I saw a smirk pencil itself on his lips as he left the building.

"And were you happy with the reaction?" I playfully ask, leaning coolly against the wall with my right foot angled so it presses against it.

"Well, let's just say I'm getting extra fries and two hamburgers" He pauses, obviously with a dramatic intention. "What can I say? I'm a hungry guy" Again, he allows a beautiful smirk to just rise naturally onto his lip.

"I'm hoping that wasn't an innuendo, Bender"

I heighten my eyebrow at him with his smirk ascending to the point where it transforms into a grin full of insinuations. He doesn't reply, but instead just looks at me. There was no need for me to ask that question. It's John Bender, of course it was an innuendo alluding to one thing. I can't help but think of Claire. I wonder where she is this precise moment, whether Bender is still on her mind. One thing I do know is that she has left Bender and that she may be the reason he favours teasing me. Only one thing is prominent in my mind is a fact.

Bender is wearing my earring.