The Redhead, and The Dreamer.

Ethan was amused with me, and Crystal was in near awe. Her voice was caught somewhere deep in her throat like this was the first time she'd ever noticed I had some real talent behind all my talk. Ethan had no trouble speaking up though. It was starting to seem like he never did.

"Who's that one for?" he asked, a small smirk appearing on those ever teasing lips of his.

"Does everything have to be for somebody else?" I asked him defensively. He couldn't know it was another one of the ones I'd wrote while sitting home alone, wondering why he bounced around more than your average rubber ball sometimes. He'd laugh at me, and Crystal, well she'd probably just tare me into a thousand little pieces or so. "Can't I ever just write something for me?"

"Not something like that." Ethan fumbled around with the chords and hummed the melody for a few seconds. "I mean, it's a good song...a great one even, but no one could just sit down and write something like that out of nowhere. There's emotion behind it. Sounds like someone's really broken your heart or something, but that's just what I'm thinking."

"I suppose you could say it's something like that." I shrugged. "So does that mean you write songs about being picking when it comes to girls and being completely in love with your girlfriend?" I was testing him, carefully at that, but still. I wondered if Crystal would catch on. I wondered if he would catch on.

"Not at all," he said. "Crystal's beautiful, and I love her, and everything else, but she'll never be my muse. She's not the type of girl you write any kind of song about. there's no words that would describe her perfectly." I didn't know if that was a good or bad thing, but Crystal smirked easily, though still not knowing what she wanted to say.

"That makes no sense." I stood, stretching, making a sort of rushed bee line for the front door.

"I know," Ethan said as I stepped outside. He'd followed me to lock the door behind me. His hand touched mine, and for a second, i thought he was trying to hold it, but he pulled away fast. "It doesn't have to." Then the door shut, and it was like he was gone all over again.

I'd walked a few steps before realizing there was something in my hand. A simple slip of paper.

We've got to hang out more, perform together sometime. I'll be Batman, and you can be Batgirl. I'll even let you write the lyrics. -E

I melted.