Almost Perfect // 1

 -+Tennyo

          Darien Rehnquist slammed down my latest novel onto the old table in disgust. "Ugh. You know? Why does all of the male characters, especially the one the heroine is going to fall in love with, are all so muscular in some way…and …and just too damn PERFECT."

          My eyes peeked over the edge of my cup as I finished gulping down the last drop of coffee and let out a satisfying sigh. "So… what? Does that mean you don't like it?"

          Darien took off his glasses and held them in his hand while using his palms in an attempt to rub the tiredness out of his eyes. He sighed. One of those sighs that indicated it had been days since he had last slept properly and wasn't too happy about it.

"No…no, it's quite enticing… as usual. But I just think… I mean well, besides the fact that you're already on the New York Times best selling author list, I think perhaps it would be a bit more…" he paused in search for the right word, "…unique.

Don't you think it's a tad bit irritating that practically all the characters in romance novels are filled with people with a great physique, especially the man or woman that the main character falls in love with? You'd think of the thousands of romance books that have been written by hundreds of different authors would have some variety in them."

          With the way he put it, I supposed he was right. "Yeah, I suppose you're right. But that's what the readers' want! This land of fiction is made for readers who spend their time reading all of these novels so they can indulge in their fantasies. So that maybe, just maybe, for a couple of hours of their lives, they are practically living their dreams. And perhaps, they want hope that someone that perfect was also made for them so that maybe their realities do not seem so bleak. And besides, it's all just pure fiction. It is at the reader's discretion to not get it into their heads."

          Darien started rubbing his eyes- again. I grew irritated watching him put bacteria into his eyes and handed him a napkin. "You know, what would you do if I weren't around? You'd probably be too sick to even walk outside the apartment building. Look at this place!" I dropped my voice down a notch and slightly touched the table, "do you not see how filthy this place is? The table is sticky!"

          Darien took his hands away from his poor, mistreated eyes and took my offered napkin. "You're the one that chose this place, not me."

          I shrugged, absently picking up the empty cup of coffee and frowned at the lack of content. "This place makes a hell of a coffee." I shook my head and vaguely wondered if I should order a third cup. "But I digress. About the perfect characters in my story, why, after seven years of reading all of my work, are you complaining now?"

          Darien slid down in his seat and slouched. It appeared he was under a great deal of stress. "Okay," he sighed loudly, "last week, I was out with-"

          "Oh!" I interrupted, "so that is what this is all about!" I raised an eyebrow at him and slipped into my all time favorite reporter mode. "So, tell me Mr. Chiba, who is the lucky lady." I inquired in a fake-reporter-voice while holding out an imaginary microphone.

          Darien just gave me a warning look that told me if I continued mocking him; he wouldn't give me an ounce of detail and leave me hanging. Well. Isn't someone Mr. Sunshine today! I coughed and straightened up in my chair.

          "Well, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted," he hesitated for a second, checking to make sure I was paying close attention and wasn't going to go wacky on him again. "I was out with Margaret on our date for the third time this week." Ooo! It appears Mr. Sunshine himself has been busy this week! He and Margaret went out once a while back. What was with the sudden socializing?

Darien cleared his throat as he stared at me to see if I was back from la-la land. "It appeared that all this time she had been using me as a display case to get her ex-boyfriend jealous enough to come back to her." Ouch. Revenge rears its ugly head. I always knew that Margaret would turn out to be a bitch. How did I know? Call it women's intuition. Or it could be her gold plated earrings that said bitch on it. How…nice. Perhaps it was a gift from that not-so-ex-boyfriend of hers.

          "Apparently, after three nights of attending public functions, her little devious plan worked. Last night, her boyfriend asked her for a dance at the reception, gave me an evil glare, and swept her away to the dance floor. She never even looked back." Darien sighed heavily, "So after an hour of pointlessly waiting there and succumbing to everyone's scrutiny, I finally left with the last of my dignity." Darien paused and started staring at the intricate carvings on the mahogany table. I opened my mouth to speak but he continued, "I don't really consider this being such a big loss. It's the fact that I was being so blind and totally unaware of her hidden motive."

          I looked at Darien and wondered. I agreed with him. How did an intelligent man such as Darien himself be so completely unaware and so terribly stupid? Alas, he is my friend so I shall sympathize and not ridicule. "Darien, it's okay. I know you feel like a fool right now but it's not like the ulterior motives were so devastatingly obvious. Besides," I nodded thoughtfully, "it could be due to the fact that you haven't had a date in… quite a while. You were just out of practice. Don't worry about it. You're being way too hard on yourself."

          Darien didn't even look up from the table and muttered as if he was saying this a million times, "Yes, yes, I suppose you're right." Hm. Perhaps he has said it a million times, I am right quite a significant number of times. But he just shook his head and sat up. "That is beside the point. The bottom line that I am trying to make here is that the only reason Margaret had dated me that time ago in the first place is because I am semi-decent looking." Ah, Darien was always the modest one.

          He lifted up my book from where it was discarded and motioned towards it with his other hand. "See! Is this all it comes down to? How someone looks? Is the perfect mate someone with muscles and abs, breasts and butts, strength and curves? Does it even matter much if they were perhaps quick-witted or humorous?"

          I smiled. "Of course it does! The majority of my characters are fully equipped with both body and personality-"

          "-Which makes them all perfect!" Darien exclaimed. "We all know that humans aren't perfect. We all aren't blessed with a charming personality. Where are the FLAWS! Because according to you and hundreds of other romance writers, there aren't any! It should be considered a crime to give readers these false indications," he declared.

          I glared at him. "Look, as I already told you before, these books are fictitious. Practically nothing in it is based on reality. That's the whole beauty of writing." I looked at him intently in the eye. "It doesn't matter how far-fetched the story may be, because it's just a story. The human imagination is limitless and there aren't any boundaries to restrain how real or unreal a story is. All I'm doing is bringing my fantasies and other people's fantasies to life. There," I reached across the table and emphasize each other with a poke to his chest, "is nothing wrong with that."

          Darien encompassed his large hand around my pointed finger and led it away from his chest. For a second, I felt warmth engulf me. I quickly withdrew my hand as if it had been burned and looked at him strangely. I didn't see any kind of reaction on his face. Maybe it was just me. "No, I suppose there is nothing wrong with that. It is perhaps why I became a reporter and you became a fictitious writer. You indulge in your fantasies and I surround myself with facts."

          I smiled brightly at him. Jumping back into my happy old self. "Yep, yep! Which makes us the perfect team!"

          Darien glared at me. As if mentioning the word perfect in his presence was a sin. I changed my sentence. "…Which makes us the coolest buddies! Yeah!" I punched my fist into the air like an overzealous cheerleader.

          Darien's icy demeanor melted away at my silliness and grinned. "Yes we are. Except I am the cooler buddy and you are just the cool buddy. See! It works out mathematically! Cool plus cooler equals coolest. It can't be any other way besides that."

          "Oh yes it can! I am the cooler buddy and you are just the cool buddy." I retaliated. "Haha! I am unstoppable! No one can beat me!" I laughed out loud like a maniac, causing the people in the café to stare. But I didn't care! Because I am the greatest romance fiction writer of all time! Actually, no, I am not that egotistical. It is so I could enjoy the blush creeping up Darien's face.

          "Argh," he groaned, "Why do you always do this? Especially when we go outside. Is it your ultimate goal to publicly humiliate me at every single café and restaurant in all of New York City?"

          His embarrassment only made me laugh louder. "Oh posh, Darien. I know you don't mind. Why else do you continue to meet me in the most crowded of places? Come on! Don't be such a bugger and LAUGH with me! Just let loose and laugh!" I yelled in the now not-so-quiet café, causing even more heads to turn and look at the strange woman laughing her ass off. Did she escape from a sanitarium? They wondered.

          Darien raised an eyebrow and looked at me oddly. If we were a comic book, there would be a big bulgy sweat drop appearing next to his face. I just laughed louder, if that was at all humanly possible. It was starting to get high-pitched now. Like that of a hyena's. "Come on Darien! I know you're under a lot of stress from that whole Margaret ordeal. Just let it all out with a couple of laughs!" The level of silence was just deafening. If this were a movie, there'd by crickets chirping.

          Darien cleared his throat and quickly stood up from his seat so that the wooden chair scraped against the floor. His eyes darted nervously from left to right, glancing over the amount of people that were staring at that loud woman. He grabbed my wrist, pulled me up from my chair, and started dragging me towards the door. "Uh..." he chuckled nervously, "Nothing to see here. She purposefully forgot to take her medication this morning. Don't worry, she'll be all right."

          A couple of understanding nods here and there and the level of noise was back up again before we stepped out into the summer heat. My laughter died down as soon as the door closed behind us. "You do realize that we didn't pay for the coffee, right?"

          Darien paused in mid-step and almost stumbled. "What! Oh, no! I totally forgot!" He turned towards the café but I caught him by the wrist.

          "Don't tell me you're actually gonna go back in there just so you can pay a couple of dollars. Are you really that desperate to relive your embarrassment?" I grinned mischievously as I remembered that panicked look on his face.

          His face tightened and he started walking ahead of me. "Fine. If I had known that you were going to pull another one of your quirky acts, I would've ordered another damn cup of coffee!"

          I laughed out loud and ran to catch up to him. I touched him on the shoulder and he swerved around. "Why do you always do that anyway?"

          I blinked at him innocently. "Always do what?"

          "The laughing hyena thing! You always do that! This must be the tenth time that we walked out without paying. Now I know it's not because you are lacking any money. So what is it?"

          I grinned slyly. "No, it's because you are."

          "I d- what?!"

          "Yeah! You always insist on paying. What is up with that? This is the twenty first century honey! I don't need a man to pay for me. I can handle all finances quite well thank you very much."

          Darien just looked at me, stupefied. Oh boy, this day is looking up! I really wish I had a camera with me. It was already the second time today that Darien had another Kodak moment, and it was only ten in the morning. I should really consider getting one of those digital cameras and really capture the essence of Darien.

          "You- you what! All those crazy, lunatic scenes were for me?" He started walking quickly ahead of me again. "You could have easily said no, Darien, I got it. But nooo, you'd rather resort to your demented ways and embarrass me not to pay. I would have just let you paid if you asked, you know."

          I started jogging slightly to match his quick, gigantic footsteps. At the rate he was going, he'd be talking to himself if I walked any slower. It wouldn't do for others to think he was more out of it than he already is. "And you would've argued with me. You would've said your mother brought you up to be a gentleman. And that no matter how financially unable you are, you would still pay. Even if you were bankrupt, you would pay. It's etched in your damn genes."

          Darien paused abruptly, causing me to walk back. "You're right. I would've argued and still insisted on paying. You know me too well. It's kind of scary." He resumed his walking, but this time at a regular pace.

          "Well, it's kind of scary how much you know me too. So I guess we're even," I said.

          For a couple of blocks, we wandered around the busy streets of Manhattan, pausing every few seconds to window gaze. Upon looking at a pink feather boa displaying in a glass case of a costume shop, it hit me.

          I grabbed onto Darien's arm and started jumping up and down. "Darien! I got it! I have a most interesting proposition to make!"

          "What, what?" he asked annoyingly. It was after years of practice that allowed him to maintain his balance while a hundred pound lunatic used him as a balance to jump up and down hysterically. Even after he mastered the art of acting as a rock, he never really liked it.

          "We could totally switch!" I stopped jumping but kept my death grip on his arm. He cleared his throat and stared at the offending hands. "Darien dear, are you developing a cold? Perhaps you need some of my good old chicken soup to bring you back to health."

          Darien quickly stepped back and waved his hands frantically in front of him. "No, no! That's okay! I'm just um, making sure there aren't any bugs caught in my throat. You know how it is, you open your mouth for two seconds and they come flying in."

          I laughed so hard that tears started forming in my eyes. "Haha! You're still afraid of my cooking?! Okay, I don't blame you. I need some work on the cooking. But anyway," I breathed deeply and tried to keep a straight face. "Here is my proposal."

          "Aren't you supposed to get on your knees before you do that?" I looked up at Darien and saw him trying to look like he was deeply moved by the thought of me proposing.

          "All right, all right. Cut it out." I looked up at him and made sure he was paying attention. "This is how it goes. How about, the next story I write, it will be as you say… realistic. I mean well, can't be TOO realistic, but not everyone's perfect yah? And your next article won't be so… factual. I mean, I swear, I fall asleep every time I read your news article. I never get past the first paragraph."

          Darien glared and gave me that how-dare-you-criticize-me look. "It's a NEWS article. It's supposed to be factual. That's why people READ them so that they'll be informed of what is going on in the world! It's not like one of your little love stories where they fall in love and live happily ever after. It's real life! Real shit that goes on in the streets! How do you expect me to write away from the truth?"

          "Excuse me, excuse me. Little love story? Now I know you did NOT just call my novel a little love story. Go ask any one of your coworkers and they'll TELL you that it is most definitely not a "little love story"." The nerve of that guy! Insulting my stories! "Just because you're a little bit grouchy that none of your stories made the cover does NOT mean that you should denounce my work."

          "All right, all right! You're right, and I'm wrong. Is that what you want me to say?" he held his hands up defensively.

          I calmed down. He was usually the one that calmed down first, but today was an unusual day. It happens. Our work was a very touchy subject. "No, no. All I'm trying to say is, even the greatest reporters fibbed a little. I'm asking you to just… exaggerate." I looked up at him and saw him open his mouth in protest. "Not just completely exaggerate everything out of proportion, but just add some life to it so that maybe it will get on the cover page."

          I stood there with my arms crossed, waiting for a response. He thought about it for a while then said, "Hm… ok. It's a deal." He held out his right hand and I held out mine. We wiggled our fingers to seal the deal.

(It's our secret handshake! Shh… you're not supposed to know…)

---

hey hey! How do you like my story? To those of you that have read my other stories and are waiting for an update… sorry, it can't happen right now. The new system kind of lost my data even though the stories are there. Right now, I don't know how to fix the problem, but we'll see eh? Since I can't update, I've written this new story! I hope to finish this one. At this length, you could expect me to update about once a week. But sometimes, it might get longer so it might be once a month instead. Who knows? I might slip into my bouts of laziness. Ok! Thank you for reading! Hurray hurray! *grins*

feedback!!! : [email protected]

oh yeah. I forgot to write this at top…

DISCLAIMERS!!:: sailor moon and all of its related characters do not belong to me, but this story does!

Hehehe! *giggles like a maniac* tata~! Thanks so much for reading! :D