• His eyes are crimson. Of course they have to be -- all the cool men in life just have to have crimson eyes. Or slitted eyes. Or dark, piercing eyes. Or--

    "Mimi, what are you scribling out in your notebook?"

    Mimi, awaken from her little world, looked up at her dear friend and rope to the real world, Brin. She seemed concerned, which she rightfully should have been, because Mimi usually hated to waste her precious notebook paper on something as trivial as scribbling. Something was up.

    Mimi sighed, her hair flopping in front of her face like it always did.

    "It's a character I'm coming up with. He's being . . . stubborn."

    Brin shrugged, her perfect blonde hair waving this way and that as she sat down next to her lowly companion.

    "They're always stubborn, I thought."

    "Not as lead-footed as this one," Mimi commented as she held her notebook in the air, examining it. "He's too typical of an amazing guy, but I know that he's so much better than that. But, he keeps telling me how I should--"

    "Mimi, dear, your characters aren't <i>real</i>," Brin noted, shaking her head in disapprovement. "They can't tell you things."

    "I know," Mimi admitted. It always seemed silly. "I don't even have a name for him yet. It's silly."

    Brin, who never understood her little friend, stood up again as the bell rang.

    "Lunch's over -- it's time to head back to class."

    Mimi nodded as a hand stopped her.

    "Having trouble seeing me, miss?"

    Mimi didn't dare to turn around. His voice was so soothing, so . . . <i>right</i>. She felt her temperature rising.

    She pratically smile in amusement. "Now, we can't have you passing out on me, now can we? Think. Not crimson eyes. Think more . . . <i>surreal</i>."

    The hand left her.

    Brin finally turned around, wondering why she didn't hear footsteps behind her. She noticed how Mimi hadn't moved an inch.

    "You're being a lead-foot, like that character you were talking about," Brin noted. "Come on -- you <i>want</i> to be late for class again?"

    Mimi shook her head as she jogged towards her friend, clutching her notebook close to her chest. She couldn't help but smile at her encounter. She knew what he meant.

    Not crimson eyes -- crimson hair under just the right light, and a voice that could sooth the devils. . . . A perfect contrast of character.

    It was a beautiful start.