I watch her through glazed eyes as she struts around the party like she owns the place. Lacing fingers with desperate boys and winking idly at girls who take second glances. She thinks that this is her scene, the way she plays the field is sickening. But anyone who has half a brain cell knows that her head is in the clouds. She thinks shes so cool, which is why I have devised a brilliant plan to bring her down.

I tip my beer up against my lips and down the addicting liquid before climbing on stage to take the place of the band who had just got done performing. I watch as teenagers stop dancing at the loss of music. They're all high off of the excitement of the party. Dim lights create shadows that mask everyones features, but I still can spot her through the dreary atmosphere. Her red hair falling over her shoulders and her nose pointed up high in a snooty manner, as if to say that shes better than anybody and everybody here.

I look down at the stage to locate my guitar. When my gaze fell upon it I lazily picked it up and sling it around my shoulder in a nonchalant manner. Soundlessly I walk up to the microphone and scarcely let my lips run across the surface.

"Excuse me, could I please gather the attention of the student body?" I question, flashing a smile at the awaiting audience. Some giggle, a person whoops in the background. I search through the crowd and find her with my lustful eyes.

"Well I have a special treat for you all tonight." I pause a second to let the rest of the crowd simmer down. Once their voices hush I speak up again, this time speaking in a tone that drips with sarcasm. "Now of course you all know the most perfect girl in the world, whom has decidedly graced us with her presence tonight. YES! Tonight she is here to join the public!" I jump off of the stage, my crimson guitar swinging loosely at my side. The crowd parts to let me through as I make my way through. All eyes on me as I walk towards her. It is here and now that she finally looks at me.

I come up close grasping the mic in my clammy hand. She looks confusedly at me, daringly raising an eyebrow and pursing her soft plump lips. I feel her sizing me up as I lean towards her and mutter into the mic, "I speak for all of us when I say this one is for you...princesssssss, now listen UP!" I run up the stage stairs and onto the front of the stage, shoving the mic into a stand before beginning to play.

The crowd is silent as I strum the first cord before breaking out into the song. "If I could write you a song to make you fall in loooove, I would already have you up under my arm. I've used up all of my tricks. I hope that you like this. But you probably wont...you think your cooler than me." I watch as her face contorts angrily, her soft hands clenching into fists at the side of her dress. The crowd surrounding is cheering, all turning at some point or another to scoff at the poor, little rich girl who is so blatantly being made fun of.

"You've got designer shades just to hide your face. You wear them around like your cooler than me. And you never say hey or remember my name, its probably cause...you think your cooler than me." I smile greedily as she looks at me. I find myself becoming more courageous as she smolders me with that heated look. "You've got your high brow, shoes on your feet. And you wear them around like it 'aint shit. But you don't know the way that you look, when your steps make that much noise, shh...see."

Her poser rich friends are now clapping her on the back, as she glares deeply at something that must be very interesting on the floor.

I know and she knows that this is my revenge for all those wasted times I tried to confront her. To get her to cast a measly glance in my direction. But she's so caught up in her own little world of riches that she doesn't have time for anyone else. She's daddy's little princess and gets what ever she wants. Well tonight I'm making a stand, to show her just what its like to feel like shit.

"And dont you dare act like you dont know, know whats up. Cause your nose is up, I'm approaching up. Like I can give you winter in the summer, summer in the winter. Miami in December. Trying to look bored in those Diors, she probably is." I flick my wrist in her direction. I hope she feels everybody's eyes wash over her in a distasteful manner.

"Was acting shallow, until she found out just how deep my pocket is." I stop playing the song for a second to jump off the stage and make my way over to her.

Looking her in the eyes I pull the microphone up to my lips, my guitar hanging unused at my side. "Mrs. Pre-Madonna, this is your reminder...that I think you're fine, but heh I'm finer." I say before I turn around and begin to strum the chords again, ready to repeat the songs chorus for the last time.

After my gig I pass through the crowd and feel everybody's hands clapping against my back in congratulations as I make my way to the beer counter. I grab a bottle and take a seat against a wall near the back of the party, dim light washing over my body. Slightly sweating I pull my long black mane up into a high pony tail.

Now don't get me wrong getting drunk and partying is all in good fun, but for heavens sake I'm a vampire and being near all this mortals is making me dizzy from blood lust. So I stand up and start to make my way towards the door. As I was nearing my escape I feel a small hand grip my shoulders and wield me around.

She's standing there, angrily glaring at me with her arms crossed under her breasts. She's wearing a thin fabric, pink dress that is strapless and ends about mid thigh. Her nails are freshly manicured and her dark red locks frame her face elegantly, dark blue eyes stand out boldly against her soft skin. I bite my lip and ask what she wants. Before I can tell what's coming next she pulls back her arm and slaps me hard across the face. Before i can angrily retort I see subtle tears streaming down her face, her arms now hanging loosely at her sides, fists clenched. She gazes at me with such hatred in her eyes, I am sure that I will burst into flame.

"Who the hell do you think you are? Making a fool of me like that." She muttered still smoldering me under her gaze.

"Well who the hell do you think you are, period?" I ask, now crossing my arms, my own voice giving me the courage to stand up to her. "You prance around like you're a movie star. Just because you're rich doesn't give you the right to treat people like shit...Bubblegum." I gag inwardly at her nickname. What the hell kind of name was it anyway? Its like was a four year old names their Barbie Doll and she just decidedly forces everybody in high school to call her by it. I mutter goodbye and stride out the door. My hands are dug deep into the pockets of my skinny jeans and my red boots are not visible through the darkness. I feel myself shiver as a cool wind wraps itself around my bare arms, I really should have thought of something to wear other than this damn tank top.

I walk over to my motorcycle, pull the keys out of my back pocket and stick them into the ignition. Nonchalantly I rev the engine before peeling out into the darkness.

Okay guys R&R. This is the most strange couple ever but I just have to write a fanfiction about them so here it is! I would love to hear what everyone thinks of the story and what they think should happen next. BTW all of this isnt just going to be from marceline's point of veiw the next chapter will be from P.B's POV. Thanks for reading and oh by the way whoever wants more of this story should review cause thats really the only thing that motivates me to write more. TTFN