Alright everybody, I ish back. I re-wrote the first chapter, with the help of the wonderful Miss Pibbles, my new Beta. Actually, I can't say that I wrote this chapter, because I would be lying. -Cries into the night- I pretty much just wrote the outline. Miss Pibbles made it sound cool. So everyone should give her lots of love ^_^.

Alright, I'll stop rambling, because you probably don't care.

Disclaimer: I don't own 'Naruto' or any 'Naruto' characters.

"Ow! Goddamn it, ow!"

It wasn't surprising that the girl next to me didn't even blink. She just continued to swing her arms around like a lunatic, screaming something incoherent. I cringed, rising up onto my toes, craning my neck to try and see over the enormous crowd that I was currently drowning in. Instead of a clear line of sight, I ended up getting a mouthful of sweaty hair as the girl in front of me tossed her head back.

I spluttered, slapping my tongue furiously. The girl didn't even notice that some of her hair actually been ripped out, and she instead kept jumping up and down. Honestly, how much energy did this girl have? I coughed, using my long nails to scratch my tongue, pulling the last of the hair from my mouth.

Turning my head, I tried to spot the distinctive hairstyle of my best friend, who was the reason for my being in this horrible torture. She had to be around here somewhere, but all I could see were arms, hair, glow-sticks, and the four individual reasons standing on a stage – the very reason for why I hated being here.

It would be safe to assume that I was probably the only teenage girl in the stadium that borderline hated boy bands, and Fallen Angels were definitely no exception. Thrusting my elbows out, I pushed my way through the crowd, suddenly not caring about who I might injure on the way.

"Tennie!" I screamed, but even I couldn't hear my own voice. "Tennie!"

Still no sign of her. I then swore to myself that if I didn't find her within the next thirty seconds, I was out of here. "Tente—whoa!"

All of a sudden, the girls around me surged forward like a tidal wave, their screams piercing my ears to a point where I had to reach up and cover them. Caught by surprise, I was swept along, not even trying to fight against it. Stumbling, I caught myself on the back of someone's shirt. A hand then pressed down on the back of my neck, and I could feel my hair being pulled.

"Ow! Get off me – hey – stop pulling—!"

My protest weren't heard – of course – and I shoved the dark haired girl attempting to crawl over my head away from me. I then pulled my hair in front of me and let it fall over my shoulder and down my chest. Someone then stepped on my foot and I yelped, once again bracing myself to shove them away.

I swear to God, the things I put up with because of her…

My hip slammed into something solid, and I nearly toppled over.

"What the f—?" I exploded, catching myself short of saying a rather nasty word. Looking down, I had somehow been swept from the middle right of the mosh and had somehow ended up crushed against the metal gate that separated the audience from the stage – prime position for someone who isn't me.

The deafening bass from the speakers thrummed through my entire system, and I could practically feel every single hair on my body vibrate along with it. Like the rest of the girls here, I knew my best friend would want to get as close to her favourite boy band as humanly possible. Despite how much I loved my best friend, I didn't particularly want to be squished up against the railing, clinging to it to prevent myself from being run over and pounded into the floor by these overzealous fangirls.

I had my limits, you know?

The crowd then surged again – harder this time – and I was pushed so hard into the railing that I swore my ribs broke on impact. My breath was sucked out of my lungs, and my hands flew off of my ears to grab onto something – anything – to keep from being trampled into a pile of Sakura goo. But the girls around me didn't care – obviously – and just continued to scream like banshees.

"Ow… ow… excuse me, would you just – ow!"

Looking up, I then found out why I was being so mercilessly crushed into the metal gates. One of the singers had fallen to his knees at the edge of the stage, hand outstretched to the crowd. Red tattoos crinkled as he grinned at us, flashing us a wink. The crowd screamed again, and I just rolled my eyes and focused on keeping myself alive, rather than having some pretentious douche see me. The crowd surged again, and a barrage of hands and arms around me stretched out. I swore I could hear some popping out of their sockets.

The boy then grinned, pulling the headset microphone away from his mouth. I watched as he leaned in to the security guard and yell something in his ear. I looked away, trying to shove the hormonal girls away from me. Personal space was something that didn't exist here.

"Oi, stop pushing, you—" my sentence was abruptly cut off, quickly escalating into a high pitched shriek. Someone had grabbed me under the arms and hauled me over the gates, the backs of my knees scraping against the rusty surface. I then came face to face with a frowning security guard.

I blinked, my arms outstretched in a defensive manner. I managed to whimper out a small croak that sounded a lot like 'what', but it was lost to the screams. The security guard then narrowed his eyes at me, and hoisted me higher.

Next thing I knew, I was being shoved onto the stage, and my hand bring roughly gripped by the boy with the red tattoos.

Bewildered, I squeaked as the boy yanked me further across the stage. Stumbling, I turned my head, only to be blinded by the stage lights.

My arm was yanked again – hard. "Hey—!"

The boy slid an arm around me. "Jump!" he yelled, followed by an almighty scream. When I hesitated, he reached down and grabbed my wrist. "C'mon, Pinky!" he cried, trotting out in front of me, back to the audience. I stared at him and he grinned.

"Jump!"

But I never got the chance to ready myself, because the next thing I knew, I was – yet again – yanked sideways. The world spun in an array of blurred colours, melting into one another like different coloured paints. As soon as I had started moving, I stopped – courtesy of the body I had slammed into.

With one last spin – I hoped – I was pressed against the body. An arm then wrapped itself around my waist, and I squinted through the onslaught of light, desperate to see the face.

The arm around my waist then disappeared, and a blonde haired boy appeared in front of me, grabbing my hand and pulling my forward. I could only stumble after him, towards the middle of the stage – and I watched as the boy continued to jump around to the music, mouth wide as he sung along.

"And I'll steal ya away, beautiful, ooh yeah…!" he sang, dropping to his knees. My hand was then brought to his lips, his blue eyes sparkling in the stage lights.

My hand was then snatched away before he could kiss it, and I was elegantly twirled away from him.

"Ooh, yeah, I'll make you love me, beautiful…!"

I caught a glimpse of the blonde boy rising to his feet, bounding to the front of the stage before my vision of him was blocked by another boy's face, the smirk well and alive on his lips, one hand slipping around my waist.

The newest boy to hold me now tugged my to his chest, and I could feel the sweat soak through to my t-shirt. His pale eyes were amused, his long brown hair flowing around him like silken ribbons.

The music was much louder now, and the beat was infectious, as was the boys' energy. A hand belonging to the pale-eyed boy grabbed me – gently – and led me to centre stage, raising my hand. A flash of blonde caught my eye, and that boy was back again, yanking my other arm into the air.

"Jump!" he screamed, nodding.

Awkwardly, I bounded on the spot, bending my knees a little as I tried my hardest not to cringe under the blinding lights and piercingly loud music.

A fourth boy – who I seem to remember being screamed and fought over the most by the girls at my school – suddenly appeared in front of me.

How had I not seen him move?

Dark eyes, so unbelievably black, like molten pools of ink, glittered down at me.

And he smirked at me.

"Ooh, yeah, beautiful… I'll make you love me…!"

"Ooh yeah, I'll steal you away… beautiful…!"

On that last note, the boy tilted my backward, hand pressed against my lower back. I squeaked in shock, grabbing his arm and holding on for dear life. My squeak – however – was cut off when he suddenly pressed his lips against mine.

And then everything turned to white noise.

Head spinning, I could vaguely hear the entire stadium burst into the highest, most incredibly high pitched squeals I'd ever hear in my entire life. All I could think of, however, was the fact that my first kiss – my first kiss, damn it – now belonged to some pretentious, douchey pop star whose name I didn't even care to know.

Regaining my train of thought, I immediately shoved at his chest, breaking his hold on me. He stumbled back, ungracefully, and I nearly toppled, just barely managing to regain my balance. I glared at him, and stepped forward, arm raised.

And I slapped him.

His head snapped to the side, his black hair following shortly after. As I glared at him, my chest heaving with every breath that I took, I suddenly realized that the whole, entire stadium was silent.

Around twenty thousand people had stopped screaming. Just like that.

Every… single… one of them.

It was then that the boy turned to look at me, smirk completely wiped off of his handsome face, his shiny black hair now ruffled and clinging to the sides of his sweaty skin. His cheek was stained a brilliant shade of red, his hand coming up to cup it gently, lips parted and dark eyes growing wide in shock.

I wanted to leave. God, how I wanted to turn on my heels and run. But I was physically rooted to the spot. And for a second – a universe-crushing second of time – something flashed across his face. I didn't stick around to find out, as the loud and low hysteria from the fans erupted from down below and shook the concrete walls. If I thought their screaming before was loud, it paled in comparison to this.

This screaming was different from your usual fangirl screams; this was the angry, rabid war-cries of fangirls who had been injected with a concentrated dose of red bull and had their eyelids removed.

And they were all angry. Really angry.

Spotting the first set of stairs that came into my line of vision, I quickly stormed past the four singers, avoiding the searing hot holes each of their stares – coupled with the fangirl war-cries – until I saw Tennie being restrained by a security guard. I gaped at her, almost tripping down the steps as I hurried to her.

"Tennie!" I cried, reaching out for her.

"Sakura!" she cried. "Tell this moron—ow!"

I skittered down the last few steps. "Hey! Stop it! She's with me!" I cried, tugging on his muscled arm. Tenten then scowled, thrashing wildly.

"You know her?" he asked, and I rolled my eyes.

"Yes!"

Nodding once, the guard promptly let go of Tenten's arm, and she latched onto me.

"Sak! Sak! What the hell did you do?" she shrieked, yanking on my arm.

I made a face at her. "What did I do?" I cried incredulously. "I bloody well slapped the pretentious idiot who kissed me!"

Tenten then spared a glance at the security guards, who were the only thing standing between them and an early grave, and upon realizing that, her face then grew deathly pale.

"Sakura, they're gonna kill you!"

"Why? He kissed me!"

Tenten then grabbed my shoulders and shook my violently. Great, as if I hadn't been pushed, bumped, trodden on, yanked, and spun around enough one night.

"It doesn't matter! Sakura, you just slapped the Sasuke Uchiha!"

I snorted. "Since when did his name ever come with a 'the' in front of it?" I growled, but Tenten just ignored me and kept on screaming and flailing.

"He's the most popular super-star in the world! He's the world's sexiest teenager, and you – Sakura Haruno – just slapped the shit out of him in front of twenty thousand people!"

I shoved her away, having been finally fed up with this. "That makes no sense! He kissed me! I was just defending myself!"

"You don't get it, do you?! These fans – Sakura – they're bat-shit crazy! Sasuke is their Jesus, and you're that group of men who had him crucified!" Her eyes then went wide. "You just committed blasphemy! Blasphemy, Sakura!" she cried, voice quivering like it was the end of the world.

I opened my mouth to reply, but was cut off when a harried looking man took my elbow.

"Excuse me, miss?" He looked me up and down. "Yes, I'm afraid you'll have to come with me!"

Tenten then yanked me away from the man, her hazel eyes narrowing at him.

"Why?" she demanded, pulling me close. The man suddenly became frazzled – worried even – and his eyes were pleading.

"Please, girls, there isn't much time! You must come with me, your safety is in jeopardy, and we must escort you out of the arena as quickly as possible! Please!" he cried, wincing when the crowd roared suddenly.

"But we can take a taxi—!

"—please, just hurry!"

I glanced worriedly at Tenten, who was rather busy with flipping off the hoards of enraged fangirls – which just pissed them off even more. I swear, was this girl trying to get me killed?

"Tennie! Stop that!" I smacked her arm, and then turned to the man. "Yes, we'll come," I said, grabbing Tenten's arm and pulling her with me. She turned to me, eyes livid. "This guy says he'll take us home!" I said.

Tenten quickly looked at the man, and then back at the crowd, who were trying to run over the gates like a pack of zombies, arms outstretched and roaring. Though, to be honest, the fangirls would probably do a whole lot more damage than a swarm of zombies.

"Management is concerned about your safety, girls," the man said to Tenten, looking positively petrified now. "Please, we will escort you out, and then drive you girls home."

Tenten just shrugged. The man breathed a sigh of relief, and crooked a finger for us to follow him backstage. "This way."

"Wait! Oi, Pinky!" a voice suddenly called out. "What's your name?"

I half turned at the shout, seeing the blonde boy from before standing atop the stairs, towel in hand. Tenten squeaked.

I gulped. "Tennie, let's g—!"

But Tenten didn't acknowledge me. "She's Sakura! And I'm Tenten!" she screeched, face nearly splitting in half from her grin.

"Tenten!" I gasped. "Shut. Up!" Grabbing her free arm, I dragged her away.

"Why did you do that?" I cried as we followed the man. "Are you insane?"

"Because," she said, not looking at me as we both ran to catch up with that manager. "What harm could it do?"

I laughed out loud – a short bark of incredulous laughter. "That's what you said about this stupid concert!" I cried. "And look where it got us!"

I could practically feel Tenten's smirk. "Where it got you. I had nothing to do with this."

"You dragged me here!" I shrilled.

"Yeah, but you slapped him!"

"He kissed me!"

Yeah, and you still slapped him!"

Tenten collided into my back, and we both toppled forward, slamming into the shoe rack next to the wall. I managed to catch myself on the wall, wincing when the shoes clattered across the hallway floor. Tenten covered her mouth, trying to stifle her giggles. I smacked her arm.

"Shush, my dad's probably still asleep—"

"Sakura Haruno! Get in here right now."

I cringed, holding my purse against my chest. Tenten grinned sheepishly, backing towards the stairs.

"Oh, no you don't!" I hissed, grabbing her wrist and yanking her back to my side.

"Sakura!"

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Coming, Daddy…"

"Daddy's girl," Tenten teased, poking my arm.

I ignored her and poked my head around the archway that led from the hallway into the lounge room. My father stood with his back to me, watching the television. I bit my lip when the emptying stadium was then displayed in the screen.

How in the hell is it already on the news?

"Hey, Dad, you know… me and Tennie are really tired, so, yeah, we're just gonna head to bed now! Heh… you know, school in the morning and stuff—"

"Bed can wait," he quipped sternly, his lone dark eye peeking through the dim light of the television screen. Boy, was he mad!

"Well, night Mr. Hatake!" Tenten squeaked, creeping past me.

"Not so fast, young lady. I need to speak with both of you." His voice was quiet now. I swallowed hard, edging around the doorway and into the lounge. My father's book lay abandoned on the sofa arm, a glass of water sitting alone on the coffee table.

Tenten inched up beside me, standing just behind me.

I cleared my throat. "So, um, what did you want to talk about, Daddy?" I asked, smiling widely.

My dad then sighed, and then turned down the volume, tossing the remote onto the couch. He then turned to face us, arms folded over his chest.

"You two care to tell me why you're all over the news?"

I glanced at Tenten. She shrugged minutely at me.

"Um…" I fumbled over my words. "We were… just… that awesome?"

I saw Tenten's head bob up and down furiously. "Yeah! She agreed. "They, uh, held a best fan award – thingy – and me and Sakura won! How cool is that?"

My father raised one lone eyebrow. "A best fan award?" Clearly, he was too smart to fall for that. "Sakura doesn't even like the Fallen Angels, Tenten."

"Um… I just started?" I said, cringing at his questioning tone.

So, let me get this straight," my father began, taking one step forward. "You mean to tell me that you were kissed by one of the members, and then you slapped him – means you're their biggest fan?"

"Eh-heh…" I wrinkled my nose. "It's a new thing, Daddy… you know, like schoolyard teasing and stuff…"

The lounge was silent. My father just stared at Tenten and me. I then began to fidget, pulling at one the bangles on my wrist.

"Well—" my father started, but he was cut off when a woman with boobs the size of the country bounced onto the screen. Quickly, he lunged for the remote, grinning as he turned it up, leaning forward eagerly.

"Ew – Dad!" I cried, flapping my hand at him furiously, ignoring Tenten who had started giggling again.

"… Yes, that's right folks! You heard first – superstar Sasuke Uchiha, leading member of the group Fallen Angels, was allegedly slapped onstage by an unidentified girl." The reporter tossed her hair back.

"Now, I'm told by one of the representatives of the band that it wasn't a stunt, and was completely unplanned."

The scene cut from the reporter to the last moments of the concert. I cringed, watching myself being twirled around on stage, looking like a clumsy ragdoll, arms flailing ridiculously. The boys were singing the last few lines of their song, and that was when it happened – that little punk tipped me backwards, pressing his lips to mine. A moment later, he stumbled backwards and I windmilled my arms around, finally regaining my balance.

I squeezed my eyes shut, hearing the stadium go deathly silent a moment later. Opening my eyes, I peeked at the screen, and saw myself hesitate before storming offstage. Not even a second later, the crowd erupted into an apocalyptic frenzy of screaming, arms flailing, and most likely the most amount of death threats that a single person could have ever received.

I saw my Dad then raise his hand, and the screen went black. Turning around, he threw the remote on the couch once more and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Best fan award, right?"

"Um…"

Dad then sighed, his hand moving to rub his temples, then run through his silver hair and end with a tired rub on the back of his neck. "I suppose that's the best explanation I'm going to get from either of you. So, bed – both of you. Now."

Tenten nudged my arm supportively. "It was just a mishap, Kakashi, we swear." She then flipped him the peace sign and bounced out of the room, humming to herself.

I then followed her lead, swinging my arms by my side as I walked.

"Sakura?"

I stopped, turning to face my father. "Yes, Daddy?" I said sweetly, grinning widely.

He pulled a face at me. "No more slapping pop-stars."

I snorted. "Right."

"Ha! Sasuke got owned by a chick!" Naruto crowed, legs kicking out frantically as his thumbs jammed into his controller.

"Shut. Up."

"Seriously, dude, how hard did she hit you? Your face is so red!" Kiba snorted, yelling triumphantly when he destroyed Naruto's player with one easy head-shot. The blond then cried out angrily, waiting for his respawn into the match.

"Kiba!"

Neji smirked from his place next to Sasuke. "Perhaps I should have kissed her, Sasuke. You might not be her type. Dark and broody doesn't always work for everyone, you know."

"Shut up, Neji. I'm everyone's type," Sasuke huffed indignantly. "The chick's probably a lesbian or something." Sasuke then flipped the ice pack over, wincing as the colder side stung at his cheek.

Naruto then roared with laughter and dropped his controller after pausing the game. Kiba growled, but dropped his too. "Dude, she ain't a lesbian. I just know it. But you," he said, pointing, blue eyes twinkling with mischief, "you're just pissy because there is actually a girl out there who doesn't worship that ugly mug of yours."

"Couldn't care less," Sasuke sniffed, turning away.

"Oh, really?" Kiba turned around, leaning his elbows on the coffee table, a sly and knowing grin spreading across his face. "Then why'd you demand to know her name?" He then raised an eyebrow, his grin splitting wider.

"I didn't."

"Yeah, ya did," Naruto said with a grin. "I remember. You were all like, 'Who the hell was that? Who does she think she is? How dare she hit me,' blah, blah, blah, I'm a pissy little boy!" Naruto quacked, voice taking on a tone that was at least three octaves higher than his own.

"What's your point, Naruto? –And I don't talk like that!"

Naruto took on a serious face. "You just can't stand the thought of somebody not loving you – not fawning over you like some lovesick puppy. 'Mister Popular gets slapped by a hot chick'. It's eating you away at you. Admit it."

"Shut up, Naruto. Go back to getting your ass handed to you by Kiba," Sasuke snarled, kicking Neji when he snickered.

Naruto just shrugged, turning back to the game. "I got her name, in case you're interested."

"I'm not, so shut up."

Naruto snorted and looked at Kiba. "It's Sakura."

Sasuke just grunted in response, pulling the pack away from his cheek and poking the tender surface of his cheek

Sakura, huh?

A shiver suddenly ran through my body, and I blinked.

"Hm?" I heard Tenten mumble.

"Weird little shiver thing," I said, waving my hand dismissively as I flopped back down onto my bed.

Tenten then sat bolt upright, face illuminated by the glowing screen of her phone. "Sakura, do you know what that means?!"

I peeked at her, not at all thrilled by her possible answer, but propping myself up onto my elbows anyway. "Um… that I have a nervous twitch?"

"No! Tenten squealed, crawling onto my bed, her face now inches from mine. "It means that Sasuke's thinking about you! Oh, he must be in love with your feisty attitude!"

I put my hand on her face and shoved her off of my bed and back onto the mattress on the floor, ignoring the little disapproving grunt she gave. "It's more likely that my father is on the phone telling his knitting buddies about his wonderful daughter." I made a face.

Tenten sat up again, screwing her nose up. "Your Dad knits?"

"Yeah, I think so. I mean, he always has those weird scarves and I never see him buy them," I said, lying back down. Tenten climbed back onto my bed and shoved me over, sliding under the covers. I rolled sideways, tucking my arms under my pillow.

"I never took your Dad for the knitting type. Cause, you know, he's… well… your Dad." She then shifted in her position. "We should set up cameras and catch him in the act," Tenten mused playfully. "You know, use it as blackmail for when we wanna skip school."

I laughed. "That's a great idea! We could be like Nancy Drew, only we'd live in the twenty-first century…"

"You can be Bess, then."

"Uh, no. You're Bess. Cause you always fall over stuff, and she's like, the lame-ass sidekick. And doesn't she have brown hair?"

"Yeah, but I'm a better detective than you. Also, Sasuke loves you."

I sat up, lifting my pillow with me and smacking her over the head with it. "For God's sake, Tenten, he doesn't love me."

"But, you guys kissed!"

"Because he's an asshole!"

Now be honest, tell me what you thought of the chapter. Good? Bad? Go hide under a rock and never come out? Be honest people, I needs to know this shiznic.

So review, but only if you want too. :D

Mini-Stack.