Oh god sorry this is late...ugh I hope this isn't sucky.

Requested by: John-SP150

Word: Popularity and/or Friendship

Pairing: Kevin StoleyxRed/Rebecca

Rating: T (for excessive geek-wadness and OOC-ness)

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She was a Leia, a definite Leia and I'm so sure of it that it was the surest thing I have ever felt so very strongly about...if that made any sense.

I had a habit because, believe it or not, I'm not perfect. I'm human just like everybody else and though I hated to admit it ,because it would make so much more sense if I were an alien instead of a human, it was true whether I liked it or not. You see, most people have the habit of instantly judging someone they first meet and always it was based on appearance and body language. They choose whether they liked a person or not just by simple stuff like eye contact or voice tone, if they seemed cheery or totally antisocial, and last but not least if they were right side or left side brain dominant. If the introduction was started off with a handshake (the basic approach in interviews, luncheons, etc.) a firm handshake was much more appreciated than a wimp, sweaty one and strong eye contact that didn't come off as threatening but instead seemed serious and levelheaded was also another desired trait in such an event.

It's pretty remarkable really; at least to me it was interesting. How people react to change in environment was just absolutely fascinating, just put a new monkey among the chimps and you'd most likely get a riot. Such monkeys could be compared to the closest things to animalistic behaviors; the closest for example were high school students. In my opinion, high school students were just a cage away from being in a zoo exhibit. Greetings that are most familiar in a high school setting didn't actually require any contact. Set yourself in this situation: you're in your classroom waiting for another boring, tedious learning lesson until you realize that there is a new student in the classroom, what do you do? Well if you're just another average student you would most likely judge right away based on appearance. Is the new student a boy or a girl? How does he/she dress? Is he/she cute/hot? Would it affect your reputation to hang out with said person? These are the basic questions answered in less than the time for the class to actually start. One person notices the new kid and mild chatter starts to build up about the new kid in an almost domino like effect; more people talk and more people judge based by who they are. Another recent new kid could take sympathy on the other new kid and most likely that new kid would sit with the old new kid at lunch in the afternoon. The list could honestly go on and on about how each kid reacts to the new kid but it ends up all the same: the new kid gets talked about and thus sequences the "monkey riot".

How was I, Kevin Stoley, different from all this? I wasn't. I judged people by appearances as well but instead of just looking at the big picture I noticed minimal things that no one really takes the extra time to study. Like fingernails...no one ever noticed fingernails but just a simple part of the body could tell so much. If they were short and clean it showed that the person was well-kept or at least tried to look practical without too much effort. If they were bitten and chewed it showed that the person could be nervous at times and had bad self-control. If it was a girl with over manicured and totally bedazzled out nails they seemed desperate for attention and could be lonely, though they were mostly surrounded by loads a people inside they were isolated. It may be a bit too detailed to just tell someone's life passed on their nails but it was minimal things just like this that could really tell a whole bunch. To myself at the very least it was.

I like to play this game where I try to see what how a person relates to a character from favorite movies of mine. It was nerdy, yes, but it's how I always judged a person since I was a kid. A good example of this was my good friend Rebecca (or Red as some people called her). She was the perfect definition of a Leia. She was rough around the edges trying to show she wasn't weak, she had a bad temper and was angered easily but I knew her deep down that she was just a little girl trying to show she wasn't useless and was good for something. She was good for stuff; there wasn't a doubt in my mind that she wasn't. Stubborn as she may be, she had that sort of "princess" vibe going around. Red was spoiled rotten by her father, she got whatever she wanted being "daddy's little girl" and she hated the title of that. She considered herself not to be anyone's girl and she wasn't owned by anyone. She had spunk and I kind of liked that. When we were kids she always tried to pick on me, trying to find a friendly fight but I always remained calm about everything which really did seem to really bug her an awful lot at times. But even being overdramatic and sometimes just the bit too much to handle, she had her mellow side. She was smart. We'd study together whenever the next big test came up and we always passed with flying colors. Another thing about her is she had determination and a passion for what she loved to do, which was painting.

Yes, Rebecca loved to paint. She saw the world in lines and colors, just like a true artist at heart but being the fiery person she was, she had absolutely no patience making all her paintings she tried to sketch out turn into nothing but hurried scribbles and odd colored blobs. Canvas after canvas and paper after paper, she tried with all her heart to make something decent but she never could. She had all the right materials and all the soul but she just couldn't make what she saw in her mind onto that blank canvas that mocked her every day. She tried art lessons and years of just practicing but no luck came her way. There was many times were she just wanted to give up and break every pencil and paint brush she owned but I made sure she kept going.

"I'll help you find your muse! You'll be painting like a pro in no time!"

"Oh so my paintings aren't pro enough for you or what!"

In a way ...I taught her the method of the Jedi.

Jedi's are quick and calm, knowing how to think in a pressured situation (storm trooper battles, out of control killer droids, etc.) and yes I know they are just fictional beings but that's not what matters, it's the meaning behind it. Yoda taught Luke on how to maintain himself and to train properly in hopes to become the savior of the Galactic Empire and destroy the Death Star once and for all. To prepare him for the following outcome that his own biggest enemy was his own father and to have the courage to do what was right and not turn out like Anakin did. It wasn't just Yoda who tried to teach him did but I believe that he had the biggest help out of all the others. He was wise and full of knowledge. I needed to be like Yoda to Red, teach her how to be who she is and help her achieve her goals. She didn't appreciate being told what to do of course...that was the hardest part of all.

"C'mon just paint what you feel, Rebecca! Show what your soul loves!"

"What the hell do you think I'm trying to do, geek!"

It was really difficult in the beginning but in the end it was worth all the tortur- erm I mean work.

"Why are you even helping me, Kevin? I know I'm nothing but a pain to be around. Why do you even bother?"

"You're my friend, Red. I don't need a reason to help you, it's what I do."

"...Okay."

It took time, we went to different places to help spark her inspiration but nothing really got to her. The more time we spent together the closer we got as friends and to be honest it was nice. She didn't try to start as many fights with me like she usually did and the end of sentences didn't always carry an insult. I took her to the pond to study wildlife, we went hiking up the snow covered mountains to analyze the beauty of nature, and we even watched how people talked and commuted at lunchtime. Not one seemed to be her muse. In her own words, wildlife was annoying, nature was a pain, and people were stupid. So I needed to find what interested her, what made Rebecca Tucker happy and what made her be herself.

Being the popular girl she was she had a lot of friends and a lot of the time she didn't want to go find "inspiration" for her art, arguing that she had to go to Bebe Stevens party or else she'd miss out on a lot of stuff. She didn't seem happy hanging around them though. How can I tell? Whenever she talks to them she's always twirling a strand of her red hair, showing she was disinterested in what they were saying and when they asked her a question she responded most of the time with just a nod. Why she hanged out with them was understandable, she had a reputation to uphold. She couldn't spend every second hanging around a geek like me who notices people's fingernails...

So I let her go every time. If she wanted to leave she had every right to leave and I couldn't stop her. Though I wish she'd put more effort doing what she wanted to do instead or doing what she felt like she had to do.

But I was curious about one thing...

"Why do you hang out with them?"

"What? Hang out with who?"

"Those girls."

"...I don't know. They're just friends. Hey are you going to eat that sandwich?"

She always changed the subject, always.

"Why do you hang out with me?"

"Stop asking stupid questions, Kevin."

"I'm serious."

"I'm serious too. Stop it."

She said in that tone of voice right before she got really angry so I was forced to stop the interrogating but that didn't mean my curiosity disappeared. I would find out sooner or later just not then.

I invited her over to my house a couple of days after, there was something I had I knew would trigger her inspiration for sure. It was the perfect plan. I asked her to bring some clothes she wouldn't mind dirtying up and she of course agreed but she seemed a bit perplexed. We went to my room that was covered head to toe in comic book posters and just about everything that made me happy. This wasn't the first time she was in my room though so no surprise on how nerdy it was...

She made herself comfortable, kicking off her shoes and flipping through my comics, and she seemed at peace almost. She was smiling.

I asked her how her day went and that started a big whole thing about how school sucks and people are stupid, the usual. I studied her like how I studied a new person I never met before as she spoke avidly. She didn't twirl her hair and she didn't just nod like how she treated her other "friends". In fact this was the total opposite that I never really did notice before and this was coming from someone who noticed everything. She was herself when she was around me. She smiled around me. She talked around me. She was Rebecca around me. Not just some popular girl that had a reputation to uphold, just the true fiery, secret gamer girl that loved to start fights. She was Leia.

I had all the information I needed to give her inspiration.

"-and so I decided that if I just used the regular shampoo that I use than it would be cheaper and honestly a bargain is a bargain. It's not like the expensive shampoo Wendy gave me did any wonder, it still looks the same so I'll give it-"

"Red, I need to ask you something."

"Uh, sure what is it?"

"Why are you so happy around me?"

She flushed; I knew she didn't expect me to ask her that.

"I don't know. You're a good listener I guess."

"Does no one else listen to you?"

"Not really. They mostly just care about themselves. I don't even get a chance to get my word in a conversation."

"Hmm..."

"Why are you asking me this, Kevin?"

"I have a surprise for you."

Her eyes lit up; she loved surprises. I lead her out of my room to the garage that I had spent all morning that day clearing out. The place now just looked like a huge empty room. Grabbing a bunch of rolls of large white construction paper I told her to cover the whole place with it, not letting a single inch not be covered with white paper. She seemed confused but she did as she was told. Soon the entire little square room was completely tapped up with white construction paper, mildly representing an asylum room. I went outside and got out the buckets of paint I asked my mom to get for us and asked Red if she brought the clothes I told her to bring. She nodded; looking at the buckets of paint with even more confusion in her eyes than before and heading upstairs to fetch her clothes. She came back in a ragged white shirt and a pair of old jeans, hair tied up into a messy bun and her hair clip holding back her bangs, she knew what we were going to do already. She was of course ,not stupid, so I couldn't expect less from her to just put two and two together

"We're going to just wreck this whole place with paint?"

"Yup."

Her smile returned, brighter and more excited than ever.

"Well let's get to it then!"

We grabbed our brushes and soaked them in different colors, splattering everything all over the white paper. Not caring that nothing we made looked or even resembled anything, we laughed and just continued to make what Red called "wall abstract explosions". The four walls were coated with reds, florescent pinks and greens, mellow yellows, and eye popping blues and oranges; it was a masterpiece. When we got tired and were covered head to toe in anything but our normal skin color, she bent down and scribbled her signature on the bottom floor sheet telling me to do the same. This whole room was our artwork.

"Wow can you believe we made this mess?"

"Actually yeah I can."

"I'll think I'll name it...friendship."

I smiled; a fitting name to a wonderful piece of art.

"That sounds perfect."

She frowned.

"No...no its not perfect just yet."

She grabbed my hand and rubbed it into a glob of blue paint, and forced it onto the only part of the sheet that wasn't covered in color. She did the same with her own but used red instead of blue and labeled each hand with our name and putting right underneath them "BFF"'s in her curvy hand-writing. She giggled and wiped her hand on her jeans, seeing as they could get any dirtier than they were already.

"Alright, now it's perfect!"

We washed up and let the paintings dry for a while before she had to go home. I told her that I wouldn't let anything bad happen to the art and she trusted me, showing me that smile I had just seen throughout the whole visit. As she started to exit the door, she stopped and turned looking at me with a thoughtful face.

"Kevin, you want to know I hang out with you?"

I blinked but nodded, curious to what she had to say. She took a deep breath and looked down at her hands nervously.

"Well it's because you're the only person that I like. You're the only one who can understand me. Who accepts me for I really am...Does that make any sense?"

"...of course it makes sense."

She laughed.

"You know...out of all my friends you're the only one who knows that I like to paint."

"Really?"

"Yeah, and even if I did tell anyone else I don't think they would care as much as you do. I still can't believe your actually trying really hard to help me out with it. It's pretty obvious that it's a lost cause. I'm horrible at it."

"Don't say that. Look at what you made today!"

"Yeah but it's because you helped me."

"Most of it was your work, Rebecca."

The way she looked at me that day was odd. I'll never forget it. It's almost like she something in a whole different light, more clear and bright. She thanked me and left the house leaving me confused and surprised. Something big was about to happen...I could tell.

The next day I was awaken by a phone call. My brain being all hazy with morning and interrupted rest, I couldn't process who was talking at first; all I could tell was that the person on the other line was talking hysterically and almost yelling. I told whoever was on the other line to calm done but they still refused.

"You have to see it, Kevin! It's the best thing I have ever painted!"

"...Rebecca?"

"No duh, Sherlock! Hurry up and get your butt up and come to my place! You have to see it! I spent all night trying making it! Hurry!"

Without hesitation I hurried...though I was still dazed out of my mind at the time. I hated not getting any sleep. Before I could even knock at her front door it opened before my hand touched the wood, a hand pulled me in and there was Rebecca, paint all over her face and clothes and charcoal smudges on her cheek. Dark bags were heavy under her eyes and the smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen was intense. Her eyes carried the ache for sleep but it was covered up with the excitement that she had in her voice not too long ago on the phone.

"You got to see it!"

"See what?"

"My painting! It's in my room!"

"Uh...where are your parents?"

"Don't worry they sleep like bears! Hurry! Hurry!"

I stared at her oddly; I was totally not used to her being this excited about something before. She dragged me up to her room and there were even more paint smudges along her door and walls. A cup of coffee sat on her desk as she grabbed it, taking a large sip from it before wiping her lips with her sleeve. An easel stood tall and proud with a sheet covering it with some of the wet paint seeping through; she caught me staring at it and she stood in front of it with an insane smile.

"I just want to thank you first."

Her color spotted face burned a dim red as she spoke.

"If it weren't for your inspiring I would have never been able to create this."

She tugged at the edges of the sheet and revealed her artwork, an uncontrollable gasp left my mouth. It was...me.

"Whoa..."

"Does that mean you like it?"

"Rebecca I love it!"

She had let out a sigh of relief. My eyes never left the painting; it wasn't just a normal portrait of another person. She had made it into her own taste and the way she made me look was like some sort of god with all the glows and deep shadows. My usual bland dark eyes seemed bright and colorful for just normal brown eyes and my hair didn't seem all greasy like it actually was, instead it was a sort of raven looking black and then I noticed the charcoal that she had on her face was used specifically for my hair and the shadows. In real life I was just another geeky Asian-American teenage boy, a dime a dozen, but the way she made me look on here was like some kind of lost royal prince of an enchanted kingdom in the middle of an mysterious forest no one dared entered.

"Is this how you see me through your eyes?"

She cleared her throat and when I finally was able to peel my eyes away from the painting her face had grown even redder. Her face really lived up to her nickname at the moment.

"Well yeah...that's how you paint right? You show how things look through your own eyes."

"Yeah."

"Uh well that's what I did. I drew what I saw and all I saw was...you."

I was just so awestruck. I was her muse all along. I was her inspiration. Me...Kevin Stoley; The kid who eats peanut butter and jelly all the time at lunch, the same guy who wears storm trooper costumes at a Lord of the Rings meeting, an inspiration to Rebecca Tucker, one of the most popular girls at school. Me?

I swear I saw this in a movie once...

"Why me?"

"I don't know...but a wise person once told me to show what my soul loves through my art."

"Who said that?"

"You did, retard."

We both laughed and My eyes went back to the paiting. I looked like some perfect masterpiece to her...that was amazing. Just so overcomed with joy I hugged her, not caring that paint was getting all over my jacket and pajamas underneath. Her hair smelled of coffee and ,of course, paint, a light trace of her usual perfume still remained on her neck as she hugged me back. My smile covered my face immensely and being the person that spoke their mind I told her the first thing that popped up and unfortunately it just slipped out of my mouth.

"I love you."

She was quiet at first, only breathing out a gasp into my chest as we continued to hug. It stayed quiet for the longest time before her usual strong voice weakened into a meek whisper.

"I love you too Kevin."

The hug got tighter and she laughed repeating what she said over and over again, trying to show that she actually said that out loud. I pulled back and looked at her face, the smile I loved to see glowing on her face and the splotches of paint and charcoal still remained there making her look more beautiful than I could remember. Her eyebrows knitted in false anger.

"Well what are you waiting for nerd. This is the part where you kiss me all romantical-like!"

"Oh yeah, sorry."

I did as she jokingly told me to do and the taste of cherry Chap Stick, mocha, and paint was all I remembered.

Yes, I knew for a fact then and I still do now that she was a Leia.

She was my Leia.

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Sorry that this is all late and poorly written! I wrote it in a bit of a hurry ;A; There's probably a bunch of errors on the Star Wars facts too...I need to watch my movies for the billionth time, the info just doesn't sink in... /shot

Ah don't you just love Kevin ~ xD

Next up will be Leilla's Candy fic :)