Unlimited free packs of Reese's plus a hot guy, as opposed to staring blankly at the wall while trying to drown out stupid loud moans for three measly ones… hmm. "You do know I'm only in this for the peanut butter thingamabobs, don't you?"



TIME: 4.23pm

"You do know I'm only in this for the peanut butter thingamabobs, don't you?"

"Oh shut up and get in the damn car, you," The auburn-haired male next to me interrupts, holding the door open and shooing me in. "And stop trying to ruin my manly ego."

"You? Manly ego? Pfft." I can't help but let out a snort at that. "Since when did you have a 'manly' ego, buddy?"

"Hey!" He lets out a squawk of outrage. "I am very manly, thank you very much."

"Oh really now?" I deliberately look him up and down at that. "I couldn't tell."

"Well I could show you…" And he actually has the audacity to start unbuttoning his jeans at that.

"What? NO!" I all but yelp out in panic, hurriedly grabbing onto his hands to stop him from progressing further. "Fine fine fine fine fine! You're very manly! Now stop doing that!"

"Since you asked so nicely…" He lets go of his jeans deliberately slowly and shoots me a smug grin. "Happy now?"

"Very." I squeeze my bundled up self (damn winter - pah) into his orange yellow Lamborghini, letting out a long low whistle at the squeaky-clean interior. "And damn do you have a nice car."

"Thank you!" He replies sunnily, starting up afore-mentioned car's engine. "So where do you wanna go?"

"Hershey's World?"


"Hershey's World. They have loads of Reese's there." And I just about lick my lips and start drooling at that thought.

He gives me an eyeroll at that. "You're such a slut for Reese's."

"Oh shut up and get the damn car moving, you."

"Yes, ma'am." He mock-salutes me and shifts the gear into motion. "Whatever you say, ma'am."


"Reese's slut."

And I give him a such a hard smack upside his head he lets out a yelp.


TIME: 11.14am

"No." I glare at my younger sister resolutely, crossing my arms stoutly. "HELL no."

"Why?" Said sister whines in reply, huffing as she stamps her foot, causing her already-short mini to hitch even higher. "It's just one time! One!"

"Still. No."





"Pretty please with cherries on top?"



"Because I don't want to cover for you while you go off to the house of the most sex-crazed hormonal pre-teen in the district to go at it like wild rabbits with said person!" I reply, scowling. "I don't even know what the heck you see in him!"

"He's hot!" She argues defensively, crossing her stick-thin arms over an ample chest. "Plus we had an appointment - I can't stand him up now!"

"Who the heck has appointments for sex?"

"That's not the point!"

"But seriously!"

"MARIEEEEE!" Ashley huffs in frustration, glowering as she stamps her foot yet again. "Can you like concentrate on the topic at hand right now? It's important! I'm going to be late!"

"But seriously!" I repeat, shooting her an incredulous look. "You guys made an appointment to have sex? How do you expect me not to comment on that?"


"FINE!" I grumble in displeasure at her exasperated look, rolling my eyes. "I'm not the one who's worried about standing up Mr. Sex-crazed Dickhead anyway."



"Just - just - AAAARGGHHHH!" That dear sister of mine practically growls in aggravation, tugging at her platinum blond hair irritably as she stomps her feet on the carpeted ground. "Can you just shut the hell up and follow me to the damn place?"

"Why should I?" I point out, stating the obvious. "I cover for you under the pretense that the both of us are going out for some sister bonding time - something we never do, even if we're only two years apart - and bring you to that obnoxious, narcissistic pig's home to have wild monkey sex while I, what, sit on the couch and enjoy the music? No thank you."

"Awwww… pleaaase..?" Ashley begs, blinking large blue eyes at me pleadingly.




"I'll buy you a jumbo pack of Reese's!"


"You know you love them!"


"Two jumbo packs?"



Well… darn. I can't argue with that.

TIME: 12.54pm

"I have absolutely no idea why I'm doing this."

"Because you love me, of course," Ashley replies happily at my disgruntled tone later in the day, rubbing her hands together in glee as we stand on the humongous polished marble steps of Dickhead's ridiculously large house, waiting for his butler to open the large ornate doors of his house for us. Darn rich kids.

"You wish."

"Heh," my sister grins unapologetically, practically on the tip of her toes in anticipation as footsteps start towards the door. "For three jumbo packs of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, of course, you glutton."

"Oh. Right." I pause, momentarily planning to ask her just why the heck she's so excited. Then I realize that I'd probably be much better off not knowing the reason for said excitement, and decide against it. "Why the hell are you so worked up over this, anyway?"

Not that my mouth listens, apparently.

"Sex is nice, of course," Ashley replies simply with an eye roll, giving me a dismissive wave of a hand as the jangle of keys sound inside the house. "Not that you would know."

Gee, thanks for rubbing that in, sister.

"You're not even of legal age!" I snap back, scowling at her veiled insult. "You're barely fifteen!"

"And Chad's not either," She points out, rolling her baby blues at me once again as the door creaks open. "And you don't see that stopping him."

"Oh shuddup you," I mutter darkly, pushing past her and into the house. "Don't forget who's covering for your skimpy little ass."

"Oh how could I?" Ashley replies sweetly, swishing her skirt as she glides in and obviously tries (and fails rather miserably, too) not to gape at the grand furnishings of the foyer. "Don't forget who's playing for the three packs of Reese's too, in the meantime, yeah?"

"Whatever," I huff, reluctantly conceding to her point as I turn to stalk away (in a random direction, really), waving a hand vaguely. "I'll just be in the living room - call me when you're done with your… hookup. Or something."

"I TOLD YOU - IT'S NOT A HOOKUP!" she practically screams at me, suddenly flaring up (which, really, scares the crap out of me), shooting me a glare as her baby pink top rides up to show even more of her tanned skin. "It's an-"

"Appointment," I finish for her, giving her a dismissive wave of my hand as I pretend to be unfazed by her outburst (even though my ears are currently still ringing). "Same old, same old."


"Thing," I interrupt again, rolling eyes that are the same shade as hers. "Yeah, yeah. Now go -" I make a shooing motion towards to grand marble staircase that snakes it's way up to the tier on the second floor - "- I bet Chad just can't wait to get his dirty hands on… uhm…" on… uhh… "...that." …right. "Now SHOO!" I shriek at her, increasing the flapping motion of my hands in a bid to cover my mind-block.

"Yesh ma'am!" Ashley replies, giving me a mocking two-fingered salute as she practically struts up the stairs, straightening her barely-there low-cut blouse. "I'll see you in a little while - have fun!"

"Fun. Right," I snort disbelievingly, pulling a face at her retreating back. That little brat. I can't believe I'm going to have to wait in this stupid manor for her to finish having sex. Sex. Bah humbug. Speaking of the situation at hand… oh. Bleep. What the crap is the living room anyway..?


A couple of… minutes..? Hours..? (darn it I KNEW I should've brought a watch) later, I'm staring blankly at some show on Animal Planet documenting the mating habits of snails in a little sitting room I stumbled across after wandering around aimlessly for ages, trying to drown out the sounds of another pair of creatures doing the dirty somewhere above my head. I swear, I never knew that stick-thin (well… not counting her chest area - that one's just… huge) sister of mine could scream/moan/groan/shriek/etc. that loud.

But that's utterly beside the point.

I turn off the giant plasma TV with a sigh as another afore-mentioned… sound the bed above shows no sign of stopping it's grating creaks anytime soon, scowling darkly as I press my palms to my eyes in an effort to keep from storming up to Dickhead's room and hollering for them to shut the hell up.

Not that it works, because less than a moment later I'm up on my feet and striding towards to source of disturbance, a.k.a Dickhead's room, more than ready to kick down the door in annoyed fury.

Trying to stride towards the afore-mentioned source of disturbance, that is - this house of his is so ridiculously large I get lost again, this time ending up in a large white-tiled kitchen with a gleaming silver fridge slap-bang in the middle that just screamed to be opened.

For a moment I contemplate doing just exactly that - a ridiculously small compensation for the permanent trauma I'd experienced in the short frame of time I'd been stuck here, after all - but then I spot a jar of familiar-looking wrappers and immediately change my mind.

And then I'm practically salivating all over the tiled floor as I spring over to the counter and press my face against it's thick glass walls, shamelessly ogling the jaw-dropping amount of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups in afore-mentioned jar.

I can just imagine one of those babies lovingly unwrapped from it's plastic wrapper, slid out, and popped into my mouth. And the salty sweet taste (oh shit that sounds really wrong) of the… peanut? Butter? (crap that sounds worse) as it melts in my mouth (and now that's just really gross-sounding). Pure pure pure pure pure heaven.

And before I can stop myself (not that I want to) my hand's creeping up, and up, and up, and up, and sliding the heavy lid open in an extremely sneaky m-

"What are you doing?"

- anner… or not. Crap.

"Uhh…" I leap to my feet, face flaming in the embarrassment of getting caught red-handed fantasizing about peanut butter snacks as I nearly drop the lid and frantically scramble to put it back, leaning against the counter top in an (rather unsuccessful) attempt to shield the giant jar from my fantasy-ruiner. (that ass.) "N-n-nothing..?"

"Right…" Said fantasy-ruiner asswipe-face replies skeptically, shooting me a disbelievingly look. "What's behind your back, then?"

"Uhm…" I sneak a look behind my shoulder and have to forcefully push down the urge to ignore Mr. Fantasy-Ruiner and devour all the Reese's Peanut Butter Cups there and then. "S-s-something..?"

"Which is..?"

"None of your business," I snap back, suddenly growing a pair of courage… uhm… wings… somehow. Or the other - from my unhappiness of him ruining my happy time with Reese's? Perhaps. "Who the heck are you, anyway?"

"None of your business," He mimics, emerald green eyes filled with irritation as he takes in my disgruntled expression, brushing aside my question. "Who are you?"

"Why do you care?" I demand, scowling as I re-angle my body to further block his view of the ginormous jar. "It's not as though telling you my name will make the poor little kids in Africa all become instant millionaires or something."

"You were going to steal something, weren't you?" He accuses suddenly, pointedly ignoring my question, his eyes flashing as he starts towards me. "The thing that's currently behind you?"

"I was not!" I exclaim defensively, even as my face flushes at the lie. "I wasn't going to steal the whole thing!"

"The whole thing?" His eyes narrow further. "What whole thing?"


"N- n- nothing."

"What whole thing?" He repeats, pulling an iPhone out of his pocket and waving it in my face threateningly. "If you're not going to tell me…"

"The whole jar!" I blurt out unwillingly, glaring at the stupid object in his hands.

"The whole jar? Of what?"

"Of- of- of…"

"Of?" Another wave of the hand.

"Of those stupid Peanut Butter Cups of Reese's!" I swallow a gulp as the words burst from my throat, instinctively trying to take a step backward - only to find out I'd reached a dead end. Well… crap. As a last, desperate resort, I raise my hands in a flimsy defense as I brace myself for impact. "It's not my fault those damn things so yummy!"

"Wait… huh..?" Mr. Fantasy-Ruiner pauses mid-(menacing)step in confusion, blinking. "You were -"

"Only planning on getting a bunch of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups to munch on in compensation for the stupid loud noises wafting from upstairs?" I fill in for him, scowling at his chagrined face. "Yes."

"…oh." He replies dumbly, looking sufficiently abashed. "Well." Mr. Fantasy-Ruiner blinks another time, then recovers quickly, shooting me a (rather-nice, frankly - but that's out of the point. As usual.) smirk as he tilts his head upwards. "Huh. They are rather noisy, aren't they?"

"That would be an understatement," I grumble under my breath, hopping comfortably onto the countertop now that a potentially life-threatening situation had been successfully avoided. "They are freaking screaming at the top of their lungs."

"Very true," Mr. Fantasy-Ruiner chimes in in agreement, leaping up beside me in one swift move, causing my mind to momentarily blank out at the whiff of his clean soap smell. "They are just-" He cuts off suddenly and lets out a cringe at another loud moan. "Okay ouch."

"No shit."

"Ugh," he lets out another wince as yet another scream cuts through the air, pulling a face. "And the floorboards and walls are supposed to be soundproof."


"Uh-huh." He nods solemnly at the astounded look on my face, cringing at yet another groan. "Supposedly 'utterly soundproof'."

"Seriously?" I gape at him in disbelief, eyes wide as my hand stills to a stop halfway to the cookie jar.


"Well damn." I let out a long whistle. "Ouch. And to think that I was actually planning to complain to the butler over the thinness of the walls - what the hell?"

"Exactly!" he agrees heatedly, wrinkling his nose. "The walls are actually all one metre thick!"

"The shit?" I all but shriek out, staring at him in disgust. "One metre? One metre? Seriously?" Mr. Fantasy-Ruiner catches on quickly, and we manage to shoot each other glances of horrified comprehension before we collapse onto one another. "OH MY GOD!"

"I didn't have to know that," I moan a while later, collapsing on the floor after exhausting my vocal cords screeching continuously in repulsion. "Why did you have to tell me?"

"It's not like I wanted to!" the guy beside me shoots back defensively, pushing himself up and burying his head in his knees with a barely-suppressed shudder of revulsion. "I was just simply pointing out a fact!"

"Still!" I complain, glaring up at him from my position on the marbled floor. "Do you know how horribly traumatized I am right now?"

"I think I have an idea," he groans, clutching at his hair as he squeezes his eyes shut. "Am I the only one having horrific mental images of two sex-crazed harpies with amazing vocal chords doing unspeakable things to one another right now?"


"Good." Mr. Fantasy-Ruiner starts to crack an eye open tentatively, only to shut it hurriedly when a ridiculously loud scream of "Oh- oh- oh- oh my goddddd CHAAAAAAAAAAAD! Ohhhhhhhhh." pierces through the silence we had momentarily sunk into.

The currently awkward silence we'd sunk into.

The currently very awkward silence.

"Well… ouch." Me.

"Oh god." A groan. Him.

Very bad mental images.

Another pause.

"People all the way in Australia could probably hear that shriek."



"I still don't see why you had to tell me that," I mutter, when the both of us are happily reclining on the couch I'd been slumping on before I left to supposedly kick the sex-crazed bunnies' asses, staring at the moving images on the giant plasma screen that had moved up from snails having sex to fishes and their eggs, at least, while the two animals up there still showed no sign of stopping anytime soon. "Are you really sure those walls are soundproof?"

"Yes," Mr. Fantasy-Ruiner grits out in exasperation, heaving a loud sigh. "That's the twenty-seventh time you're asking me that, you know."



"But - but - the people who build the walls could be lying!"

"They are not."

"How would you know?" I ask accusingly, taking my eyes off a bunch of salmon eggs to narrow them at him.

"My dad told me," he replies simply, uncurling his long legs as he stretches his limbs and lets out a loud yawn of satisfaction.

"How would your dad k- ewww!" I wrinkle my nose in disgust, wiping my hand on his plain black t-shirt. "Your saliva!"

"Yawns don't let out saliva, little shithead," Mr. Fantasy-Ruiner lets out an eyeroll, settling back onto the couch and propping his feet up on the tiny coffee table in front of us. "And don't ask me - ask him."

"They don't?"

"Don't what?"

"Yawns don't spew out icky saliva molecules on poor innocent little girls' hands?"




"You're going to ruin the table, you know."


"You're gonna break the poor coffee table if you continue placing your fat legs on it's rickety little spindly twigs," I elaborate matter-of-factly, helping said coffee table voice it's displeasure.

"Hey!" Mr. Fantasy-Ruiner (gosh I really have to stop calling him that) exclaims indignantly, retracting his feet in outrage. "My legs are not fat!"

"Keep telling yourself that, buddy," I reply, snorting as I discreetly study the afore-mentioned limbs of his. He's right, actually - that two limbs of his had to be one of the best I'd ever seen in my - OKAY BACK TO THE TOPIC AT HAND, MARIE. STOP STARING AT HIS LEGS LIKE THEY'RE STICKS OF REESE'S PEANUT BUTTER CUPS BEFORE HE R-

"Will you stop ogling my legs?"

Eh whoops. Too late.

"Um… heh..?" I offer him a weak smile, tearing my eyes away with difficulty to meet his amused - and… soft..? Why soft? - ones. "I was just-"

"Drooling over my wonderful legs?"

"No - I was just -"

"Fantasizing over the god-gifted limbs of mine?"


"Admiring my beautiful legs?"


"Salivating over my oh-so-perfect-"

"NO!" I smack him upside the head impulsively, scowling. "I was not staring at your stupid legs in any form, way, or shape!"

"How do you stare at something in 'any form, way, or shape' anyway?"


"Could've fooled me," he mutters under his breath, eyes twinkling as he smirks at my irate face, letting out a bark of laughter. "Well, on the bright side, at least the rabbits up there have stopped mating."

"Really?" I glance up reflexively, and grin beatifically when I realize that they really had, in fact, finally stopped. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Because… they… just… stopped..?"


I'm up on my feet in an instant, and sprinting out of the room. Finally. That sister of mine is going get a ridiculously large scolding from me the moment I crash their after-sex party (or something) and I can't w-

"Hey! Hey hey hey hey hey!" Footsteps scramble after me hurriedly, thumping up the stairs that I'm racing up. "Where are you going?"

"To his room, of course!" I shout over my shoulder, not slowing down and nearly crashing into a pink porcelain vase as I round a sharp corner.

"To what?"

"Di- Chad's room!" oh crap. Please say he didn't here that please say he didn't hear that please say he didn't-

"You're going to what?" A loud skid. A dangerous voice with an underlying tone of… something. Aw. CRAP. Shit shit shit shit shit - I come to a halt and turn around tentatively, wincing at the thought of scary green eyes.

"I'm going to… Chad's… room..?" I reply weakly, cracking open an eyelid apprehensively, and quickly shutting it again when I see Mr. Fantasy-Ruiner's upset face. I knew it! I knew he was going to go all p- huh..? Upset..?

My eyes snap open and I'm beside him in an instant, peering up at him worriedly just as he squeezes his eyes shut and chokes out a strangled "Oh." "Are you okay..?"

"I - I -" He starts, and takes a deep breath, lifting disgusted eyes to my face as he brushes my hand off his arm roughly. "I'm fine."

"Are you s-"

"Yes," he replies, voice cold as he stares at me with hard eyes. "I'm perfectly fine. Now why don't you go run off to your beloved Chad and have wild monkey sex with him?"

Wait - what..? Why would I - Wasn't he mad about the D - "…huh?"

"Oh don't even try," he cuts me off before I can continue, letting out a humorless laugh. "Trust me - I'm used to it."

"Don't even try what?"

"- every. Single. Time. -" Mr. Fantasy-Ruiner rants on, either not hearing or choosing to ignore my question. "It's always Chad that gets everything. He's the one my dad dotes after, while I'm just the son that's expected to take over that real estate business - something I don't even like - of his when he retires; he's the one that gets to be secretly trained by my granddad to drive a racecar while I had to pay every single cent of my Lamborghini; he gets the nice room on the second floor while I'm stuck on the attic; he gets the-"

"HOLY CRAP ARE YOU JEALOUS?" The question springs out of me unwittingly, and he swings around to face me with narrowed eyes, causing me to shrink away and vehemently regret saying anything.

"OF COURSE NOT!" he bursts out, glaring at me angrily.

"Denial, denial. Tsk." Aw crap. My eyes widen in fright as he advances at me, a blazing god of fury with his wayward strawberry blond hair and (somehow) flashing green eyes. I really shouldn't have said that.

"FINE!" He spits out, cornering me as I cower back nervously, scowling. "I'm jealous of him, alright?"

"Hah! I knew it!" I exclaim triumphantly before I can stop myself, wherein I then clap frantic hands over my traitorous mouth. "Why?" Not that it listens to me, evidently. "Is it because he gets to have sex with anyone he wants and you can't..?" Stupid stupid stupid stupid mouth!

"NO!" Mr. Fantasy-Ruiner practically roars (ooh scary) in my face, glowering. "He just - he just - he gets everything!" And he actually huffs at that. "Everyone just wants to please that sorry excuse of a brat, and it's always all "OH MY GOD! POOR CHAAAAD!"" He adopts a falsetto, fluttering his long fingers over the worried feminine mask he puts on, rapidly batting thick eyelashes that cover fury-filled eyes. "'That poor little thing'" YEAH RIGHT. Why do you think I've never had a girlfriend in my life? Hmm?"

"I don't even know your name! How am I suppose to know if you have a-"

"-end up running over to Chad and his beautiful bed-" He continues on, once again disregarding anything I've said as his eyes narrow further. "I've utterly given up on counting the number of potential girlfriends I've found in his bed." He scowls, evidently simmering at the memory. "And YOU!"

"Me..?" I all but squeak out, nearly jumping out of my skin in surprise as he turns his focus - and fury - on me, eyes widening further as he starts towards me once more.

"YOU!" He repeats hotly, placing his palms on either side of the wall, effectively trapping me as I gulp and stare up at him apprehensively. "I thought you were different!"


"You actually seemed to care! But nooo - you turned out just like the rest." He lets out a self-mocking scoff. "I knew you were too good to be true."

Just like the… too good to be… uhh... "huh..?"

"And that!"




"SEE? You keep doing that!" He exclaims, scowling at me. "It's driving me nuts!"

"…huh?" Doing… what..?



"CAN YOU STOP DOING THAT?" Mr. Fantasy-Ruiner practically growls at me, glaring murderously.

"Doing what?"





"YES! THAT!" He replies heatedly, looking like he wants nothing more than to throttle the life out of me. "You keep going "huh..?" in that confused tone!"


That's what's making him go all bonkers?

The crap?

"Well, it's not like I want to!" I start to argue defensively, glowering back at him. "I really don't get what you're - mmph!"



"What the heck was that for?" I demand the moment he pulls his ridiculously soft (and OH MY CRAP IT TASTED LIKE REESE'S. I THINK I JUST DI- OKAY NOT THE POINT) lips from mine, forcefully pushing him away (ooh abs - okay. Stop. MARIA. CONCENTRATE.). "Did you just do what I think you did?"

"Did I just kiss you, you mean?" He rephrases, giving me a large smirk. "Well, yes, shithead, I believe I did."


"To shut you up, you idiot!" He retorts, rolling his eyes. "You were going "huh" too many times - it was driving me insane!"


Of course.

"What, did you expect it to be for some other reason?" he asks mockingly, raising a curious eyebrow and looking oddly… nervous..?

"What? Of course not!" I scoff loudly, thankful that my hair was in so much of a disarray it could cover my scarlet cheeks and muffle my voice - because, frankly, I was lying through my damn teeth. Just saying. "Why - did you?"

"You wish!" He snorts, shoulders slumping for a moment before they straighten and he reverts back to his oddly cold and distant demeanor, an expressionless mask sliding across his face. "Why are you still here anyway?"

Um… "Huh..?"

"Why aren't you in Chad's bedroom right now?" He elaborates, sounding as though those words had been ripped unwilling from his vocal chords. Oh yeaaah. Good point.

"Thanks for reminding me!" I call over my shoulder gratefully as I push past him and race down the hallway, mentally smacking myself on the forehead for forgetting the reason behind every damn thing that'd just happened. Ashley's going to be so dead when I get t- wait.

"Uhm… where's his bedroom..?" I skid to yet another halt sheepishly and twist my head around, blinking expectantly at Mr. Fantasy-Ruiner, who heaves a large sigh as he slumps against the wall.

"Go straight, left, right, second door." He replies monotonously, avoiding my gaze.

"…right." I turn back around and blink at the seemingly-never-ending corridor (god knows how that works, seeing how all things must come to an end one day, do they not? But the idea is there - it really seems never-ending. I SWEAR.) "Straight, left, right, second door." I take a deep breath as I try to commit the directions to memory (because, well, as seen earlier on, my sense of direction is… rather... lacking). "Okay." I turn back to the bleak-looking male by the wall behind me. "See you soon? Later? Never? Sometime..?" I wave my hand around vaguely, waiting for his reply.

And oh, what a reply he gives, really. What a reply. A grunt - that's what he graces me with. A bloody grunt. As he turns away.

Which is what makes me snap in the end, really, I suppose.

"What the heck is wrong with you?" I end up bursting out, turning to face him fully in frustration. (Because, seriously! The dude kisses me out of the blue and brushes it off? Fine. But being hell bent on ignoring me altogether? Oh hell no - not gonna happen if I can help it, mister.)

"Me?" Said dude snorts incredulously, snapping his eyes to my face to shoot me a disgusted sneer. "What about you?"

"What about me?" I demand, curiosity overwhelming the part of me that wants to refuse him of the opportunity to list out all my faults.

"You're rushing off to Chad's room! Do I really have to continue?"

"What's wrong with that?" I counter heatedly, scowling darkly to hide my confusion. "It's not as though you're much better - you totally ruined my fantasy!"

"Your fantasy?" Said fantasy-ruiner repeats, looking incredulous. "Seriously? Gee, great." He snorts in disbelief, crinkling his nose in disgust. "Awesome going there, Dylan," he mutters to himself, a self-decrepitating quirk on his lips as I stare at him in unconcealed bewilderment. "Of course you just had to fall for someone who fantasizes about your sex-obsessed younger brother. Great. Just g-"

"Wait. Wait wait wait wait wait - just hold on a second there, buddy. You have a younger brother..?"

"What the heck is wrong w-…what?" Mr. Fantasy Ruiner - Dylan? - pauses mid-rant, blinking at me blankly.

"You have a younger brother?" I repeat, shooting him a glance filled with curiosity, brightening up when he slowly lets out a wary nod. "That's so cool! Why didn't you tell me earlier?"


"How old is he?" I cut him off before he can reply, nearly bouncing in excitement at the thought of getting another glimpse into the life of my oh-so-secret companion. "Does he go to your school? How old are you anyway? Does he have a name? Wait of course he does." I give myself a slap on the forehead, which he just blinks at. "Okay so what's his name, then? Does it start with a D too? Or have five letters? Wait is your name really Dylan in the first place? Or is it just something you like calling yourself for fun? Or your middle name? What's your middle name anyway? Or is Dylan short for something else? Like… Dylanus? Or something? Even though no one in their right mind would choose such a stupid name for their kid? Not that your parents are wonky-headed if your name really is (something as idiotic-sounding as) that but my point is there and-"

"Wait... huh? Okay wait stop there a m-"

"- last name? Do you guys look anything alike? Is he still in kindergarten? W-"

"Okay stop wait hang on a s-"

"- is your favorite subject? Do you like Reese's? What's with the giant jar of them in that enormous kitchen? Where do you live? Do you work here? Why are you in the house anyway? Are you still in school? Or are you, like, thirty but have some stunted growth disorder that makes you look eighteenish - is that even a word? Okay maybe not - and ew - or are you having holidays right now - which wouldn't make sense but that's not the point or- mmph!"

"What?" I snap disgruntledly when he finally takes his hand from my mouth, pulling a repulsed face as I lift up a corner of my checkered shirt to wipe any traces of him off my lips. "What did I do?"

"Uh…" Dylan (right..?) trails off, staring dazedly at something below my line of vision, a glazed expression on his face. "Um…" He tries again, running his tongue across his lips nervously as he raises his gaze to meet my expectant one with difficulty. "What… Uhhhh…" He gives me a sheepish grin. "Did you just say something..?"

"Yes," I sigh exasperatedly, shooting him a look of annoyance. "What were you staring at just now, anyway?"

"N- n- nothing..?" He replies weakly, turning a light shade of red and fidgeting uncomfortably as I glance downwards at myself to see what he's gawking at and realize that I'm still holding on to the corner of my shirt.

Oh. Crap. Whoops.

"Eh-heh…" I grimace sheepishly and loosened my hold hurriedly, pulling the fabric over my exposed flesh frantically. "You didn't see anything!"

"Heh right," Dylan snickers as a smirk forms on his face, apparently recovering quickly from his earlier addled state. "I didn't see anything. Sure."

"Oh shuddup," I grumble half-heartedly, swatting him upside his head. "Perve."

"Says the girl who salivates over my beautiful legs."

"I did not 'salivate' over those ugly limbs of yours!" I protest, scowling. "At all!"

"Sure, sure."




"You're a horribly bad liar." He remarks, the smirk widening, if anything. That ass.

"I wasn't even lying!"

"Pah sure. If you say so." He lets out a snort of skepticism.

"I wasn't!"



"Oh darling I love you too."


"What? At a loss for words?" He childs, grinning at the murderous look on my face.

"No!" I all but yell back hurriedly in reply, trying (and failing rather miserably, I'm sure) to hide the flustered feeling I'm feeling. "I'm just not bothering to dignify such a ridiculous reply with a proper answer, 'tis all."

"Mmhmm of course you are."

"Oh shuddup, you," I repeat, glowering up at him as a thought makes its way through the irritance I'm feeling and snaking it's way to my brain. "And you still didn't answer my question!" "Questions," I add as an afterthought, blinking hopefully up at him. "So?"

"'So' what?"

"Aren't you going to reply me?" I probe shamelessly, tapping my foot in impatience. "When were you going to tell me you had a younger brother, huh?"

"Wait wait wait wait - huh? You weren't joking when you asked that before?" He blinks at me in bemusement. (And avoiding my question too - again! That ass!)

"Of course not!" I reply, outraged that he actually dared to ask such an atrocious thing. The nerve!



"So you really don't know, then?"

"Know what?" I snap again in frustration, rather, well, annoyed. "How can I know anything if you tell me nothing?"

"I didn't know I had to!"

"What - did you expect me to be a mind reader or something?" I retort, scoffing. "Newsflash, buddy - they don't exist!"

"Well… no… but STILL!"

"Still what?"


Wow. Good question. Um.

"You… work… here..?" I reply weakly, raising an eyebrow hopefully.

"Do I look old enough to work?"

Good point. Now that he mentioned it…



"Your… dad… works… here..?" I try again, crossing my fingers behind my back.

"HE'S IN REAL ESTATE! Remember?"



"Your mum..?"

"My mum's dead."

Oh. Oh crap. Shit. Whoops.

"I'm… sorry..?" I reply in mortification, biting my lip nervously as I mentally bash my head against a wall at my utter insensitivity.

"Eh well." Dylan shrugs off my apology dismissively, looking away. "I never really knew her - she died in a car crash when I was one."

"…ouch." As overbearing as my mum can get sometimes, I can't imagine what it would be like if I'd never known her. "That must kinda... suck."

"Well… at least there's one less person to fawn over my brother, 'ey?" He raises and drops one shoulder in reply, still avoiding my gaze. Okay. Depressing.


To… uhh…

"So who's your brother?" oh. CRAP. Bad choice, Marie! Crap crap crap crap crap!

"Uhhhhh. OKAY NEVER MIND," I add hurriedly, eyes widening eyes panic as Dylan's face darkens and a shutter falls over pain-filled eyes. Crap crap crappity crap crap crap crap. CRAP. "Forget I ever asked a-"

"He's the person in that fantasy of yours that I supposedly ruined," He replies curtly, abruptly cutting me off midsentence as he glances away, jaw clenched.

"Oh." Wait. "Huh?"

Dylan lets out a tired sigh, rubbing a hand over his face as he slumps against the opposite wall, shaking his head slightly. "Don't you get it? The person in your fantasy? That's my brother."

"Oh-kaaaaay… but - but - WAIT. Huh? Your brother - he - huh..? Isn't he supposed to be younger than you..?"

"Yes. And in case you didn't notice, he is. He's ain't even fifteen." He replies, scowling. "How thick can you get?"

"But - but - how can your brother be making peanut butter cups since the 1920s if he's not even fifteen..?"

"Wait… huh?" Now it's Dylan's turn to look confused, apparently. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Well, it's true!" I exclaim defensively, on a roll now. "How can he even be your younger brother, then? Hell - how can he even be your brother, in the first place?"

"Why not?"

"Because he'd be, what, ninety-plus right now..?" I point out, giving him an exasperated glance. "In case you didn't notice - IT'S NOT SCIENTIFICALLY POSSIBLE!"

"Huh?" Dylan blinks in bewilderment, staring at me blankly. "Why would Chad be ninety-plus..?"

"BECAUSE THOSE PEANUT BUTTER CUPS WERE INVENTED IN N- wait… what..? Your younger brother's Chad? Disgusting Sex-crazed Dickhead Chad?"

"Disgusting sex-crazed whadda whadda what..?" I swear, his eyes just about fall out of their sockets - and they probably will, if they bug out any more - as he starts upright. "Did you just - but… yeah. That Chad."

"But - but - you two don't look anything alike!" I splutter in disbelief, gaping idiotically as I narrow my eyes at him in scrutiny. And it's true - from what I'd gathered from Ashley's squeals and gushy words, even at fourteen Chad is apparently the epitome of an All-American Quarterback - complete with the buzz-cut blond hair, blue eyes, scarily broad shoulders and bulging muscles. (Something which is just… ugh. No thank you. Ashley has horrid taste. Fact.) Dylan on the other hand - from what I can see - has more of a runner's build - lean muscles, bright green eyes, ridiculously auburn hair that flopped adorably over his left eye, and dimples on either side of his cheeks. Which, frankly, is much more appealing than Mr. American Dude, BUT THAT'S OUT OF THE POINT.

"Different mothers," Floppy-haired Guy replies simply, successfully snapping me out of my reverie. "Dad's a horrible whore."

"Well. That explains why you're loitering in this goddamned ginormous place despite the horrid noises, then," I murmur contemplatively, face clearing in comprehension as everything starts to fall into p- "And the sound-proof walls. And your half-brother's horrible, disgusting, icky habits. And- wait. That means… you thought I was fantasizing about Chad?"


"WHAT THE HELL?" I just about shriek in disgust when he's unable to formulate a proper reply, nose crinkling as I shudder in horror. "Why the heck would I - ewww!"

"Well… it's not my fault every other girl before you have been doing that," he puts in mildly, looking abashed.

"But still!" Of all people - ugh. "I was fantasizing about Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, not that dickhead brother of yours, when you walked into the room, accused me of daylight theft and destroyed said fantasy! GOSH!"

"I'm s- wait what? Reese's Peanut Butter Cups..?"

"What - you have a problem with that?" I snap angrily, riled up by the audacity of Dylan to even suggest such a disgusting thing. Seriously - Chad? Me fantasizing about Chad? Oh god.

"No…" He replies slowly, raising his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "But… so that means you have no intention of getting into his bed soon, then..?"

"Of course not!"

"Then… why… why were you practically flying in your haste to get to his room, then?" He asks in bemusement, apparently still confused. And I was the one that was supposed to be thick, huh? HUH.

"Because the faster I get there, the earlier I can get to scold my brat of a sister till her ears bleed for making me suffer such a horrible trauma, and the lower the chances are of her and that idiotic brother of yours deciding that they'd recovered enough to go at it another time, of course!" I reply, rolling my eyes. "What did you think I was doing? Rushing eagerly to his bed to have sex?"


"…that's what you thought, didn't you?"


"DYLAN!" I exclaim in horrified disgust at his lack of response, cringing at the horrible mental images that spring to mind. "What the hell?"

"Heh..?" He replies sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's always been like that… so…"

"Has everyone you ever liked done that?" I can't help asking, eyes widening in sympathy when he grimaces and gives a nod. "Ouch. That kinda… sucks."

"No shit," he replies, snorting, before turning to me and shooting me a smirk that positively reeks of mischief. "Well… everyone I've ever liked except you, that is."

"…me?" I squeak out nervously, backing away as he advances on me, mentally cursing when my back hits the wall. "You… like… me..? W- w- why..?"

"Do I really have to list out everything?" Dylan asks in exasperation, placing his hands on either side of me - again, I must add - and leaning in. "Because, frankly, I think I'd much rather show you."

"UHH…" I swallow loudly as he nears, eyes widening in apprehension. Crap I have a feeling I know where this is going -

- and boy was I right.


"So I take it that you're not all pissy and moody right now, then?" I ask when he finally pulls away, and I manage to compose myself enough to snap out of the happy daze I'd fallen into.

"Nope!" He replies cheerily as he stares down at me, a contented smile gracing his lips. "I'm… perfect."

"Gee, conceited much?" The snarky question bursts out of me before I am able to stop myself, earning a hairy eyeball from the dude I'd just had a full-blown make-out session with. Like it's my fault my mouth likes to run off on it's own. Pfft.

"You know what I m-" Dylan's cut off once again by another ridiculously loud gasping cry of his brother's name, causing the both of us to flinch and grimace in disgust.

"They're starting up again," I point out to him unnecessarily, slumping down in defeat. "Damnit - I really hope they were done for good."

"Eh, well," he shrugs in reply, fidgeting uncomfortably. "Chad's always been known for his… stamina."

"Okay ew. I didn't have to know that."



"Is the girl shrieking his name like crazy upstairs really your sister?"

"Yeah. Unfortunately."

"So apparently we both have sex-crazed, loud, hormonal preteens for siblings, huh?"

"No shit." I let out an undignified snort in reply, pulling a face. "How much longer do you suppose they'll take?"

"Uhh…" Dylan trails off contemplatively, tapping his chin in thought. "About… a couple of hours or so..? Chad tends to stay in his room with his… female companions till around dinner time. Then he finally gets hungry for something other than the thing between your legs."

"Oh." Crap. "So I... have to wait darn long for Ashley to stumble out?"


"THAT BRAT! She told me she'd only take 'a while'!"

"HUH. Trust me - nothing concerning Chad ever takes 'a while'."

"…darn." Stupid little sister. "What's so nice about sex, anyway?"

"I have absolutely no idea - I'm a seventeen-year-old virgin."



"I shouldn't have told you that, should I?"

"No shit. I really didn't have to know that."

"Well, on the bright side, at least you'll be the first to find out!"

"Who says I'm having sex with you, buddy?"



"What? At least we'll know if those animal-like siblings of us are seriously having fun - okay ew - or just acting it up in a ploy to get us all jealous and riled up."

"I really don't want to know."

"Awww come on… it can't be that bad…"

"…was that supposed to make me feel better?"


Another pause.

"…it didn't work, did it?"

"Obviously not."



"Well, if we can't do that, at least I can still do this -"


"That was…"

"Awesome? Fantastic? Great? Wonderful?"

"UH. None of the above..?"

"Gee. Thanks to ruin my manly ego, darling." He fakes a hurt look as he places his hands over his heart dramatically. "Oh you wound me so!"

"Yeah yeah sure," I reply, rolling my eyes as I snort at his actions and try my best not to focus on his swollen red lips. "Keep telling yourself that. You know you love me."

"Nahh… I don't - not yet."


"Speechless again, huh?"


"Mmhmm sureeee - keep telling yourself that," He mimics mockingly, smirking. "Denial's not just a river in -"


"- Egypt."

Awkward silence.

"Well darn, that was…"

"Ridiculously scary?"

"Yeah. Want to get out of here?"

"Hell yeah, but… ummm -" I start, tilting my head upwards at the source of noise hesitantly. "I... kinda promised Ashley that I would wait for her, though."

"Does she look as though she'll be getting out of my brother's room anytime soon?"

"…good point."

"Exactly!" Dylan crows triumphantly, grinning gleefully as he takes my hand and starts tugging me down the stairs. "Now let's go out of this damn place before they start round nine-hundred-and-seventeen."

'But - Ashley - "

"It doesn't matter! Come on!"

"But -"

"Alright. Okay. Listen up." He skids to a half, turning around to give me a hard stare. "If we get out of this place, I'll buy you a pack of Reese's. How does that sound?"

"Uhhhhh…" Crap. That is… ridiculously tempting. But -

"A jumbo pack of Reese's."

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…" Must… resist...

"Three jumbo packs of Reese's?"

"That's what Ashley's giving me!"


"Ashley. My sister."

"…the one upstairs?"

"Obviously. Didn't I just tell you that?"

"Gee I'm sorry I'm bad at names."

"…right." I can't help but let out a snort at that.

"Really!" Dylan nods vigorously to prove his point, before looking at me contemplatively. "Speaking of which, I don't think I ever caught yours."

"That's because I didn't tell you."

"…oh. So what is it?"

"Marie. Marie Dale."

"Ahhhh." He nods in comprehension. "I had a cat called Marie, once. It got ran over by that stupid idiot up there when he pressed accelerator instead of the brakes on my dad's Mercedes."


"Hey." He raises his hands in defense at the droll expression on my face. "At least I remember your name, don't I?"

"…because it's always nice to have a name that uses a dead pet cat as a reminder."

"Well, if it makes you feel better you're a couple million times nicer looking that my cat. It was half-blind and only had three legs. And was actually a male."

"Well gee of course that makes me feel so much better." I shoot him a dry look in reply.

"Heh." He grins unapologetically at that, earning him another smack on the arm. "So… Screeching Animal up there's giving you three jumbo packs of Reese's if you stay, huh?"

"'Screeching Animal'?" I raise an eyebrow. "…cute."

"Well. You call my brother 'Disgusting Sex-crazed Dickhead Chad', so I thought it would be fair to return the favor."

"…good point."


"So what?"

"That sister of yours blackmailed you to stay with three jumbo packs?"


"Well then, I'd just have to double that offer, no?"

"Which means…" I try really really hard not to drool as my face clears in comprehension. (Which I pretty much fail at, judging by the wet spot that suddenly appears on my blouse)

"Yep. Six jumbo packs of Reese's if we get the hell outta here. Or more, if you're not sick of them by then."

Well darn. Practically unlimited free packs of Reese's plus a hot guy to make out with, as opposed to staring blankly at the wall while trying to drown out stupid loud moans for a measly three… is there even a competition in the first place?


TIME: 2.07PM

"Are we done yet?"

The blonde girl on the floor tears her eyes from the television in front of her to shoot the blue-eyed boy beside her. "Shut up, Chad." She gestures towards the screen the both of them are currently fixated to. "They are quarrelling. How does that equate to 'yes we're done'?"

"I dunno." Said male lets out a shrug as he studies the two figures onscreen that are, in fact, shouting at one another. "I'm bored. Hype it up a little, won't you?"

"Why don't you do it this time?" The girl mutters mutinously at that, scowling. "It was your idea, remember?"

"True, but I'm not the one who's supposed to be 'loud'." Chad lets out a smirk. "You're the one, Ashley."

"Stop reminding me." Afore-mentioned girl grumbles in reply, but she picks up the loudhailer beside her and lets out a moan anyway, looking on in amusement as the objects of their attention cringe visibly and practically collapse on the ground in disgust. "Happy now?"

"Very." And Chad lets out the grin he'd used many a time to lure a girl to his bed and waggles his eyebrows. "Now if only that were real…"

And then he has to duck quickly as a very heavy loudhailer sails towards his head.

"Why did I even agree to this damn thing anyway?" His companion groans in reply, smacking her forehead audibly as she mentally curses the permanently-guttered mind of males."Why?"

"It's about high time that brother of mine got laid," Chad replies simply, shrugging. "And it just so happened that the biggest drama queen in school has a sister that hates my guts. Plus there might've been a little promise to hook you up with my best friend…" And he shoots her a smirk. "…something which I'm still contemplating about agreeing to."

"You'd better." Ashley tells him threateningly, glowering at his smug face. "I'm only doing this for Pete, and you know it."

"Yeah yeah." He waves a vague hand in reply, tossing her the loudhailer with his free arm. "Now go let out another ridiculous moan - they're up and ready to be traumatized for life again."

"Dickhead." Ashley steals her sister's word at that. But she does it, anyway. Because, really, she'd never been one to give up the chance to mortify that sibling of hers.

Which, judging by the winces of the female onscreen, she apparently succeeds at.

But that's a story for another day.


A/N - and done! i swear, this has to be the longest one-shot i've ever written. or the only, anyway, but that's beside the point. i apparently have a tendency to ramble my arse off.

but eh. this was actually written ages ago (nano, actually!), but eh well. compensation for taking down "my story", i guess (yes i took it down - it needs major rewrites. i couldn't stand it any longer. even the thought of it's making me shudder right now, unfortunately. it'll be up soon, though. HOPEFULLY. explanations are on my profile. or if you want a full explanation, just drop me a PM!)

and reese's peanut butter cups are pretty much pure class. did you know we only started selling them in s'pore a year ago? and only at hershey's world. WHAT NONSENSE IS THIS.

do let me know what you think!
(i.e. well, click the button below. that'd be nice.)