One may be asking yourself, "Hey, bluetreeleaves, you said you weren't going to post much this month because you are doing that Nanowrimo thing, right?"

Well, aren't you in for a surprise because yes, I am doing that, but I also need a brain break from time to time. And this story is MY BREAK from writing... which CLEARLY doesn't make sense because I'm insane, but there ya go.

So, without further confusion, here we are.

For one full heartbeat, his eyes were locked on hers; a sparking, wild green and dark, rich mahogany frozen within this one second; spawning a century's worth of time.

SLAP

The next heartbeat, the entire left side of his face was suddenly stinging with a sharp pain. Blinking in surprise and hearing gasps all around them, Van raised a hand to his burning cheek and his mouth fell open. Her fingers still hanging in the air, she looked shocked at what she'd just done. Her eyebrows raised for a moment before crashing down into a hard glare.

"What the hell is this?" she demanded, a dangerous quiet to her voice. She held the folder in front of his face.

"Please, let me explain-"

"How many poems have you written about me, huh? Is this some kind of stalker thing?"

"No, no, it's not! I just-"

"Thought it was a good idea to follow me around? To write about me?"

"I swear, I haven't been following you!"

"Not very convincing when you just show up here out of the blue!" she shouted and her scowl grew more pronounced between her eyebrows.

"I came to speak to your boss, Balgus."

The woman snorted. "Yeah, right!"

"I didn't know you'd be working today."

"Oh really? What did you need to speak with him about?"

Van's heart was pounding in his ears as he tried to rationalize his panic. "Look, my sister has been getting into trouble lately and I wanted to make sure she didn't come around here anymore to bug-"

"Oh, my god…" she breathed and her eyes flew wide. "Your sister… Your sister wanted that video… Yukari said she was trying to get it!"

"And I told her to stop-!"

"She wants it because you've written another poem, right?! You wrote one about that night!"

Van's mouth hung open and his words tangled in his throat.

Damn… she's really good at putting two and two together…

Her eyes flickered with disgust. "I'm right, aren't I? This isn't your only poem about me! You wrote about the puke thing, too! That's why your sister is coming around and annoying Yukari! That's why she's insisting on tracking down the owner of it!"

"Well, technically… it's not a poem," Van confessed. His full stomach seemed to shrivel in his belly with his rising shame.

"Not… a poem," the pixie woman repeated incredulously, putting a hand on her hip.

"It's-It's actually… a-actually a… song." He closed his eyes as the words trailed pathetically off his tongue. The blood rose to his cheeks. He couldn't look at her anymore.

It was too much. This was just too much.

A car honked loudly in the street. Someone was yelling at the hotdog vendor across the block. Several of the people walking by were beginning to snap photos of them with their phones and whisper excitedly.

Oh, yeah. Van had forgotten they were internet famous.

He released a short breath, but still couldn't look at her. "I can explain-"

"You wrote a song about me… about what happened…?" Her voice was hesitant. He saw her hold up the folder from of the corner of his eye. "Then what's this? Another song?"

"It's a… r-rap…"

"A rap," she repeated solemnly. "You wrote a rap…"

Finally, Van couldn't take it anymore. Glancing up to her face with anxious curiosity, his stomach dropped down to his shoes at her wildly glowing green eyes. Her mouth, pressed in a hard line, was crinkled at the corners as if she'd ate something unpleasant. Van noticed her cheeks were flushed a brilliant red.

And he hated to admit that even in her fury, she was still really pretty.

"Why?" she breathed. "Just… just… why?"

"It's hard to explain."

"Try me," she growled.

Van ran a hand through his hair and the headache he'd had all week bloomed like a black rose across his forehead.

"Can I tell you… not… here?" he asked, gesturing to the increasing number of excited onlookers.

Hitomi's eyes slipped off his face and glanced slowly at the crowd as if just now realizing they were making a scene. The red blush of her fury washed away from her cheeks and was replaced with a tired paleness.

"Fine," she said irritably.

Without further permission, Van reached out and grabbed her free hand. She gave a squeak of surprise as he began pulling her down the street and she followed almost in a daze. All around them, the crowd "oooo'ed" and "awww'd" as he brushed passed them determinedly.

"Can I take your photo?"

"Dude, where are you taking her?"

"Are you two going to kiss?"

"Why did you puke on her?"

"That can't really be them!"

"She's smaller than on the video."

"Seriously, are you two going to kiss?"

His face burned and he refused to look back at her as he dragged her passed the corner and around the block to the right. The crowd shadowed them slightly, their questions continuing to follow their backs.

"This video has ruined my life!" Hitomi whined at his back.

"Mine, too," Van agreed. "Balgus said something that I needed to hear. I can put a stop to this, but first, I want you to understand where I'm coming from. And that I'm not a stalker."

"Pulling me like this isn't helping your image!" She yanked her hand out of his and continued to walk beside him.

"Where are we going?"

Van let out a low breath.

"To meet with my business partner."

"Weeell, heeellllllooo…" Allen's voice dipped into a low growl as he spied the pair standing at his doorstep. His blue eyes flickered immediately past Van to the pixie waitress, who was currently busy tapping her foot on the concrete with impatience.

Eyes rimmed with black winged glasses, Van wanted to roll his eyes at Allen's attempt at brushing his long, thick hair into a man-bun. The end result looked like a giant cinnamon roll sitting on top of his head.

"This is Allen," Van said swiftly, making introductions before his partner could speak. "Allen, this is Hitomi Kanzaki."

"Enchanté," The blond whispered, holding out a hand to her. To Van's chagrin, the pixie waitress stepped up beside him and let Allen take her fingers with a small smile appearing on her lips. As Allen placed a quick kiss on the back of her hand, Van had to swallow down the wash of frustration that burned in his stomach.

This was not what he had planned…

"I need to explain a few things to her, Allen," Van said through gritted teeth. "If you don't mind, I'd like her to come in and see what we've been working on."

"Oh! A fan, I see," Allen smiled with delight. Dropping her hand, he gestured inside with a sweep of his arm. "Please, come on in."

The green-eyed woman glanced back at Van curiously before stepping inside the door.

Just as Van was about to follow her, Allen, still standing by the door, grabbed his shoulder, effectively stopping him.

"Who? Why? Single?" he hissed in a quick staccato. Van brushed his hand off with a scowl.

"No, she's not here for you to flirt with," he said a little more dark than he meant to. "I don't want you getting ideas."

"A shorty like that comin' to muh crib? Wish you'd rang me, brah. You left a brother hangin'."

"Don't get ideas!" Van repeated sharply.

Allen's blue eyes suddenly lit up with realization as his face turned to follow Hitomi's short skirt up the stairs.

"Brah, brah! No ways, man! No fizzle!"

"What?" Van asked incredulously.

"She's the chick on the vid, man! She's the one!"

"Yeah, she's the poor unfortunate person I threw up on and got videotaped while doing it," Van answered, trying to ignore the creeping headache that was slowly coming back. Leaving Allen gaping at the doorstep, he took the stairs after her and saw her standing in the studio room with her mouth open in awe.

"Wow, look at that!" she cried, coming up to a framed album hanging on the wall. It was a deep lavender with folds of a lovely chocolate red rose on the cover. "The Dark Side of a Rose Pedal…" she read almost breathlessly. "This was one of my favorites from you guys."

"Mine, too," Van agreed with a nod as his mahogany eyes searched the room for his ruined songs. He heard the door shut and Allen's blond man-bun appeared. "Hey, where's my binder with the songs in it?"

"They're getting Chid-mixed, brah," Allen answered with a distracted wave as he immediately crossed the room to stand with Hitomi. He leaned against the wall next to the album and gave a long, grin. "You liked that album? I feel like the last song was the best one on it."

"That one… wasn't it called 'Bluebeard's Remix'?" Her eyebrows made a small clinch on her forehead and Van had to hide his smile behind his hand.

Allen had written that particular flop.

"It had that pop rhythm, ya know? Like a good beat at da club." Allen nodded at Van for confirmation, but Van looked away immediately and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

"That one was okay, I guess, but I really liked 'Sold to You'," she confessed, her green eyes still staring at the album. "Oh, and 'The Chance of a Lifetime'."

"Here and now, in this moment.
The stolen taste of your tongue.
The gentle kiss of desire
Unwinds the whispered song:
Of the chance of a lifetime."

Van sang the lyrics under his breath, and Hitomi glanced over her shoulder with surprise written on her face.

"I wrote most of that album," he shrugged modestly as his ears turned red. Suddenly nervous, he turned away and pretended to search through the magazines lying on the coffee table. "Allen, where did you say the binder was?"

It took a few seconds for the blond man to answer him, and when he did, Van could immediately feel the animosity dripping from every word: "I told you it's going thru the mix."

He looked up and locked eyes with his business partner. The clear blue was dangerously sharp like stabbing daggers. Van feinted ignorance at his sudden hostile demeanor and swallowed back his sigh.

Just his luck he'd get roped into a one-sided jealousy war with Allen.

Seeing the curiosity ignite beautifully behind her bright green eyes, he changed his thought before he could stop himself:

Just his luck he'd have to compete with Allen.

"What does that mean? What book?" Hitomi asked oblivious of their standoff.

"It's the reason I wanted you to come with me. I wanted to show you the original works of the new album…"

"The original works?"

He faltered, and he watched her cross her arms over her yellow dress, waiting.

"You see... We are writing the album about… food…"

"Food," she repeated with a disbelieving stare.

"Sexy food!" Allen piped in with a wink. She gave him a weird look before turning back to Van.

"Seriously? You guys, the White Dragons, are writing an album about... sexy... food."

Just hearing her say the words was enough for Van's headache to break free from it's chains and blossom over his forehead like a belated, sharp-thorn rose.

"Yeah," he whispered with defeat. "Sexy food. Thus, the chips rap, and everything else that was in the… uhh… currently missing binder…"

"So what does this have to do with the other song? The one you need the video for?"

"Allow me to show you," Allen said in a deep, proud voice and swept over to his outrageously large stereo. He took up his IPhone and grabbed the plug near the speakers hanging on the wall.

"This masterpiece was just this morning! Get ready for our first single as the new, and improved, White Dragons!" He announced as he pressed play on his phone and a terrible crashing beat instantly roared from the speakers. Van and Hitomi winced together.

Then an electronic voice began chanting, "Pour more syrup! Pour more syrup! Pour more syrup!"

And, as her green eyes slowly revolved back onto his once more, he knew he was ready to die. If there was a God, he wished that this would be the moment for Armageddon. He would gratefully accept the burning torturing death. He would smile as his body quickly turned into ash.

The sweet embrace of death...

It would be better than the look on her face right now.

So, so much better.

"Where's that idiot?" Balgus snarled from the back counter with a thick fist on his hip. Combined with the red flush on his cheeks and the gray stained apron, Yukari thought he looked like a clucking chicken.

"Hitomi ran out of the restaurant to give a customer something he'd left," another waitress answered, the bags under her heavily mascaraed eyes standing prominently from her pale cheekbones. "She should have been back a long time ago! She's supposed to cover my night shift tonight!"

"Hitomi left?" Yukari inquired with a touch of worry as she rolled more silverware into paper napkins. Busy as she'd been, Yukari felt a pang of shame for not noticing her best friend was missing.

Some friend she was...

"It was that young man!"

"Unhelpful as always, Pricilla!" Balgus growled.

"Who was this young man?" Yukari asked.

"The one you spent a lot of time talking to, ya fat oaf!" the heavy-set waitress snipped. "Just because you own this stinkin' place doesn't mean you get all the downtime you want!"

"Making sure regulars are greeted and treated right is something every owner should do! Too bad you're driving all my customers away with your ugly mug!"

The waitress growled. "Ungrateful sack of-"

"Alright, alright, that's enough!" Yukari called out peacefully. "That young man was that Van guy, right? Van Fanel?" she turned to the old man questioningly. "What was he doing here?"

"He needed some food and advice. He ain't done nothing. If anything, that brat's bothering him again," the owner barked. "The poor guy can't seem to catch a break."

"If she's there, then she's probably there for a reason," Yukari reasoned smoothly trying to soothe her own worries. Turning to the disgruntled waitress, Yukari sighed, "I'll take over her night shift, so you're covered, alright?"

"Hmph." She rolled her eyes, but didn't say no. With another deep sigh escaping her lips, the auburn-headed girl picked up her stack of rolled up silverware and hurried over to the small greeting stand near the doorway. She had just bent down to put them in a waiting basket when the door opened.

"I'm sorry, we are out of room at the moment-" She stopped short as her eyes fixed themselves on a pair of happy brown. She tried to swallow, but her throat had immediately tightened and she choked on her spit. Coughing into her hand, she tried to stop her racing thoughts as his handsome face suddenly turned concerned.

"A-Amano…" she stuttered.

"Hi, Yukari!" he grinned brightly.

She sat down on the couch, listening almost impassively as Allen happily replayed the song for her. Van had fallen into the white armchair and was currently hiding his face in his hands. Bracing his elbows on his knees, he desperately called to anyone, any deity that could possibly be listening, to do something! Anything!

But the universe with it's deities wasn't saving him today. He sat in his shame; feeling her hard gaze rip his skin like a gutting knife.

"It matches the viral video," she said coolly, the underlying anger barely concealed in her voice.

"Doesn't it? Yo, I knew you was on fleek, girl, but I nev's would have guessed you be so tight!"

"Yeah, sure," she answered softly. Allen excitedly sat down beside her and conducted the dub-steps spiral beat with his pointer finger. "This is the best part!" he grinned just as the "Pour more syrup!" chant began once more.

"When are you going to release this?" the question was pricked at Van, but he refused to lift his head from his hands.

He couldn't face the world anymore.

"Sometime next month if we can manage it," Allen answered, draping his arm around the back of the couch. His hand barely grazed her shoulder. "You cool wit dat? We can def try to speed up product."

"We are working on too many other songs as it is. I think it would be safer for your vocal cords if we didn't push you too hard, Allen," Van finally murmured from his hands. Trying to tap into a bravery that he knew didn't exist inside, he raised his head and finally met her green eyes.

Ah, damn it…

Even from the way she sat, he could see how livid she was. Her back was straight as an arrow with her arms wrapped tightly against her stomach. Her legs were crossed, one foot swinging wildly left and right. Even her shoulders were rigid with veiled fury.

"Is there any way we can get that binder, Allen? I was… kinda counting on it being here…" Van asked with hopeless desperation.

"Dude, brah, stop asking me dat. You knows it wit Chid, aight dawg? He laying down the tunes."

"So, what's in this… binder?" Hitomi's voice was flecked with ice.

"Just some old-ass shit he wrote," Allen replied with a smirk. "We's makin' 'em about food now."

"Y-Yeah, yeah," Van latched on, trying urgently to make her understand without alerting Allen. "I was, well, I am poor. I need the money for Merle. No one wanted my songs anymore."

"Because they boring as shit, dawg!"

"Right, right, they were boring as shit. And so Allen took my songs and we… changed them."

"So… the pancake song was an old song of yours that you changed?" she asked confused – he was grateful to see the anger calming slightly.

"Naw, girl, he wrote that shit last week!"

"Last-week?" she repeated through gritted teeth, her anger flaring once more.

Van's mouth bobbed open and closed like a fish that had flopped out of its tank. "It's… it's not what you think…" he finally said weakly. "I just wanted you to understand."

"Understand what? That you wrote this obscene song about me and are wanting to make money off of it? That you are profiting off of something that has been nothing but a curse to me? You are… you are so…" Her face had grown a brilliant red, and whatever Van was, he never got to know as she suddenly stood up from the couch and stomped to the staircase.

"Hitomi, wait!" he called jumping up to run after her. "Look, we aren't going to use that song!"

"Like hell, we ain't!" Allen's voice snapped behind his head. "Who this bitch think she is?"

"Shut-up, Allen!" Van roared as he took the steps two at a time. The door clanged shut and he whipped it open. Her yellow uniform was already halfway down the block. She was running quickly, dodging people left and right.

"Crap," Van breathed before taking off after her. "Hitomi!" he cried, making several people stop to stare at him. "Please! Hitomi, please wait!"

To his despair, she crossed the busy road just as the pedestrian sign flashed a countdown to crossing the street. He knew he's never make it in time.

He hated himself, but he knew he had to.

Just as the pedestrian sign stopped blinking, he leapt off the sidewalk and raced as fast as he could across the busy four lane street. A car honked and he dodged as one almost hit him. His heart burned in his chest. Another driver screamed profanities, and he lifted a hand to wave a quick apology.

And then he was clear. He was on the other side. He put his hands on his knees and panted with both exhaustion and his subsiding panic.

"Alright." Her voice was right above his head and his eyes opened to see her white tennis shoes standing in front of him. Glancing up, her green eyes still held that shine of anger, but a small, crooked smile had slightly lifted the corners of her mouth.

"Explain yourself."

Btw, they really need to fix this divider line glitch. It's kinda crampin' my style, yo.

So, for those of you who wanted more: again I am doing that challenge-writing-thingy right now, so that means Be Ready, Rutilus, and allll that good stuff is getting pushed to the side for the time being.

And yes, I'm writing on a completely different story. Because I'm insane. It just goes with being me.

Soooo, who hates Allen? Show of hands! lol! *slowly raises my own hand up* BUT he serves a purpose and that purpose is making Van's life terrible - and now - that includes Hitomi's as well!

More secrets revealed. More mayhem to come. And a lot more fun where this came from.

Also, I might just write that entire The Chance of a Lifetime song...

Until next time, my loves!

blue...