As announced on Spoiled Rotten 6, here I present my new fic! It's a little too short for comfort that it looks more like a prologue than a first chapter, hehe.

I hope you guys enjoy this!

Once upon the tattered, leathery pages of an old, worn-out fairytale book, there lived a lonely young man who lived in his own little Eden in the middle of a fast-paced gray city. He was surrounded by beautiful flowers he grew and cherished himself with love and patience, blooming perfectly amongst beds of green like radiantly-coloured gemstones against their green velvet bed.

The man had sandy blonde hair that glowed in the sunshine like a crown atop the man's head. The blonde strands would emanate sunlight, giving him a golden halo. His beautiful green eyes, mirroring the colour of the leaves of his rose-bushes, or his tulips' cup-like leaves, or the large hands of leaves his sunflowers hold out for him to shake, or grass in the wee hours of the morning, glistening with dewdrops, were so vibrant, but they were missing a lustre that gave them full beauty—he was lacking life.

And yet, there he was, surrounded by the simple beauty of life, the last remnant of what was once there before the world turned gray, but he felt very lonely.

So, so very lonely.

Silently, he cries to himself, burying his hands in smooth creamy white skin, tears rolling down like crystal beads down his palms and arms.

"Why," he would wonder, "Why am I so alone?"

There were no more birds to be his friends—they had all died out or moved away—no more animals to keep him company, save for a small scraggly little kitten, with big green eyes much like his and a bad leg much shorter than the other three.

The poor man had everything, and yet he felt he had nothing.

He needed love.

"And then what happened, Matt?"

The blonde teen yawned and shook his head, closing the storybook he was holding gently. "Sorry, maybe I'll continue the story tomorrow." He apologized, stretching in his seat.

"Aww! Are you tired already, Matt?"

"Yeah, I am." Tired mauve eyes looked at the computer screen and the teen adjusted the headset over his ears. "I'm going to sleep, okay? You better sleep too."

"Alright~ Good night, Mattie."

"Good night." The blonde smiled and kissed the headset's microphone (his conversational partner blew him a kiss), before pulling the headset off. Before leaving, he unplugged the headset from the laptop, before setting it aside on the beside table, before leaning back into his bed with a sigh.

"Enter sleep mode," the teen barely uttered, and his laptop beeped.

"System AFJ entering sleep mode. Sleep tight, Mattie!"

"Good night to you too, Alfred..." Matthew uttered, as his eyes slid shut.

Sweet dreams…

The year is 2025.

The city; the Big Apple, New York City.

"It's Alfred!" the screams of fans was deafening in Times Square, as the busy roads closed and now was clogged up by thousands of screaming fans. All eyes were on the big screen, showing a golden-blonde-haired young man standing on a large stage, lights of pink, blue, yellow, green and other blinding lights flashed.

His golden hair was slightly gelled back—save for a rogue strand, but no one would have it any other way. The smile on the teen's face could rival the brightness of the lights flashing around him, his summer-sky-blue eyes sparkling like sapphires behind half-framed rectangle glasses.

"Hello, NYC!" the blonde cheered into the microphone attached to his red-white-blue Stars and Stripes headphones, pumping his fist into the air, his open leather jacket fluttering with his movements. "Let me hear some noise!"

The crowd roared beneath him as he stood there, still smiling brightly in his white-leather bomber jacket, lined with blue and yellow lines running up his sleeves and the edges. At the back was a large "50" in blue, and a blue plane graced his left arm. A yellow star within blue circle was on the left side of his open jacket. He wore white denim pants, also lined similarly to his bomber jacket, and red-white-blue sneakers.

"Yeah, that's right!" he laughed brightly. "I'm home, guys! Let's rock this joint!"

And there, he began to sing, the thousands under his feet singing along with him.

This is the international teen idol sensation, Alfred Fitzgerald Jones. He is a voice synthesizing program invented by a young programmer and his best friend, coupled with an AI database.

Alfred was no ordinary virtual idol. He was made to have emotions.

"Matt!" the blonde idol smiled brightly up at his creator through the laptop's screen. "How did I do today at Times Square?" he bounced excitedly on his heels as he stood on the computer's taskbar, gripping the lapels of his clothes (they were a slightly more revealing version of his usual outfit—the leather jacket was now short-sleeved and shorter (it came down to just above his diaphragm) and closed over his chest. (After his performance, Alfred had unzipped it open.) His shirt underneath had a Stars and Stripes design, and his one leg of his white jeans had an open segment—it was like shorts, but the rest of the pant leg was still attached to the shorts by belts. Instead of his usual sneakers, he was now wearing blue cowboy boots) as he watched the blonde teen appear in front of the monitor through the feed from the laptop's built-in webcam. "Matt! Mattie! Matt-Matt!" he repeatedly called the blonde impatiently as his creator lifted his glasses to rub his eyes. He kept calling him pet names until the blonde finally put on his headphones.

"Matt! Can you hear me now?" he asked excitedly, and the mauve-eyed blonde nodded, chuckling softly.

"Yes, yes. You've been making so much noise I had to stick the headphones in before I put them on."

"So I noticed," Alfred snickered, thinking back to the message bubble that had popped up while he was calling for his creator. "So, so, so? What did you think about my performance earlier, huh?"

"It was great," his creator nodded, "I see Kiku went crazy on the costume design again." He said, using the mouse to poke the idol standing on his laptop's taskbar. "Showing more leg more often, eh?" he snickered, poking the section of thigh that was being displayed by the open pant leg.

"I-it's not my fault," Alfred stuttered, pushing the mouse away, "If you have issues with it, go talk to Kiku. Personally, though, I don't really mind this."

"Wait until you see the fandom," the blonde muttered, and Alfred gasped.

"What did they do this time?" he gasped, scandalised, covering his chest.

"You've been hanging around Elizabeta too long," the blonde laughed, but then he looked at his door upon hearing someone knock.

"Matthew-san," a voice, tinged with a Japanese accent spoke through the door. "May I come in?"

"Sure," Matthew nodded, and the door opened to reveal a black-haired man wearing an equally jet-black suit. "Hey, Kiku."

"Hello," the man bowed slightly, and Alfred jumped up and down from where he was, waving his arms wildly.

"Hi, Kiku!" he squealed, even if he couldn't be heard. Matthew winced at the loud volume the AI was using and lowered it, making Alfred pout at him.

"Are you talking to Alfred?" Kiku asked, walking up to Matthew's side to peer at the laptop's screen. The Japanese man entered Alfred's line of vision the moment he entered the webcam's range, and smiling brightly, he waved at the man as Matthew unplugged the headphones and replaced it with a studio microphone lying nearby.

"Hi, Kiku!" he cheered, albeit a little less loudly, thanks to the laptop's volume being reduced, "Do you have a new game for me to play?" he asked excitedly, bouncing on his heels.

"It is in the works, Alfred." Kiku smiled down at the AI like he was his own son. "But right now, Matthew-san, have you taken your medicines? Francis-san asked me to check up on you."

"I have," the blonde nodded, "What's gotten Francis so busy he couldn't come to see me himself?"

"He's currently fighting off the media trying to have a post-concert press con. They wanted you and Alfred there."

"A press con?" Alfred asked, tilting his head. "But we've already had one of those before the concert…"

"The media are just like that, Alfred." Kiku smiled apologetically, "Anyway, Francis is telling them to back off since you're a bit… unavailable." The man looked down at Matthew's legs, making the blonde frown at him.

"I thought I told him I was perfectly fine, even if I'm in a wheelchair." Matthew said, and Kiku chuckled and patted the blonde's head.

"He's just worried about you," Kiku reasoned, "Now, come on. It's time for you to get some sleep."

"Aw! But I don't want Matt to go to sleep yet!" Alfred whined, beating against the laptop's screen with his fists. "He still has to finish the story about the lonely man!"

"As for you, Alfred," Kiku continued, ignoring his protests, "You have a live internet interview in about an hour. I trust you get onto the Internet now to prepare."

"Aww…" the blonde idol pouted, and Matthew chuckled.

"Sorry, bro." he apologised, "Tomorrow, I promise I'll continue the story, okay?"

"It's a promise." Alfred smiled, nodding, before Kiku pushed Matthew's wheelchair to his bed and helped him tuck in. After Alfred assured himself his creator will be fine, he opened and Internet browser and let himself in.

Okaay, so I'm pushing my boundaries with this one, since I'm still a wee bit uncomfortable with seme!England. Oh well. UBER!SUPER!HYPER!CUTE AND INNOCENT Alfred ahoy! This is going to be so amusing, hehe.

Please give me songs you'd like to appear in this fic, mostly cutesy songs, please, for example, Love Like Woe by The Ready Set.

Next up! I'm Not A Boring Old Fart!

... Bukkun should get to work now hahaha...