The Shipped Gold Standard

I had an interview today. My first since the MTV incident, which by the way now had over 347, 452, 392, 009 hits on YouTube. And no, I'm totally not exaggerating. I was ready for her this time.

“So, your first kiss with Oliver Sykes huh?”

I liked this woman, no dilly-dally! Straight to the point...maybe I was just in a good mood this time. “Yeah he's pretty much an asshole hey?”

She nodded, “So you don't have a boyfriend right now?”

I totally got that that was a subtle hint and the answer was still the same. “Have I ever had a boyfriend? Why do people keep asking me these questions?”

“And you're almost twenty?”

I figured I should just get this out of the way now then. “Yes, almost twenty and never had a boyfriend, that's me, doomed to die single.”

“So why not?”

I shrugged, a little irritated as these questions always made me. “No one wants me?” I laughed.

“I do!” A voice yelled from the side of the stage.

I threw up my arms. “Why the fuck is he always around?!”

He strolled onto the stage as the lady beckoned him, picking me up of the sofa chair I was lounging in before sitting down and depositing me in his lap. “What the fuck? I'm not a fucking lampshade man!”

“So I can be your teddy bear, but you can't be my lampshade? What the fuck woman!” He joked and I gave him the hardest death glare I could muster. Great, just another fact about my life that needed to go on YouTube. I wouldn't even need to catch up with my mum.

“So if, obviously,” the reporter began again, “guys do want you, might it be that you are too selective?”

“Yeah! What's your criteria ay?” He butted in.

“Well for one he has to be intelligent, so that's you out.” I glared, trying my hardest not to notice the arms arund my waist seeing as I couldn't forcefully pull them off without falling on my ass.

“He has to be sweet, which isn't really your most shining quality.”

He glared.

“He shouldn't make me so angry I feel the need to punch a brick wall and break my hand.” I gave him a pointed look at which he snickered.

“And lastly, he should be attractive, which I believe is the only quality on my list that you have.”

The live audience and reporter looked at me in shock, while he just smirked.

“You do realise love, that you just admitted you find me attractive to hundreds of eye-witnesses?”

I rolled my eyes, “wow, the world must be coming to an end.”

Still stunned, the reporter motioned for an ad break at which point I pulled myself from Oliver's grasp, brushing down my jeans.

“If that's all?” I asked the reporter, before leaving the stage at her nod.

I was only halfway down the exit ramp to outside when I heard a familiar voice call out my name. “Never one without the other these days is it?”

I turned aroud to glare at the one that had gotten me into this whole mess in the first place. “Peter, need I remind you that this is your entire fault? And that the only reason your...ahem certain parts are intact is because we need more Bronx Mowgli's in the world?”

At that, I turned again, only to make it another metre before I was turned around again, this time at a speed that made me dizzy. I was about to cry out in protest when I felt lips press forcefully against mine. It was lucky I registered quickly that Pete did not have a lip piercing otherwise I would have freaked out even more.

“What the hell?” I asked, dazed as Oliver pulled away and I could see his face clearly. “You can't just kiss me whenever you want to!” I was so confused.

“Why not love? You seemed okay with it a few days ago.”

I found myself staring at his back as he walked away, shocked, not because of what had happened but because of what he'd said...and the fact that he'd been right.