This is a love comedy written in high school context in an alternate universe. Please enjoy, I hope I will put a smile on your face with this story.

Prologue 1: Tifa's unrequited love

To me, there is only one purpose for school. And that is, TO LOOK GOOD. And not just to look good, but to look good in front of YAZOO. Yazoo is the prettiest guy in school. And ahem, ok. I will not use the word "pretty" but rather, beautiful. , he is the most beautiful creation of God!

I've fallen in love with him at first sight. NOT EVEN IN SCHOOL! It was when I was walking to school, I saw... I saw an angel flying, silver hair, silver eyes, silver eye brows... I think he even has silver pubic hair, oh, my prince. Yeah, so I saw him walking through the gate to assemble during my first day of school, first year. Oh, my unrequited love has already persisted though a total of 395 days 14 hours and 37 seconds.

Oh lord, I've sinned. I don't know just how many times I've dreamt of that MMMMMMMMMMMMM so beautiful face.

Oh, that silver hair, that beautiful chin and that neh neh nnnnnnnnnnnneeeeecccckkkkkkk. Oh, his silver hair brushing against his neck. Oooooooh the sound of his footsteps. Every inch of the school that he touches lights up with celestial gleam. He must be an angel.

If he ever knows what is going through my head… those R-rated images. Oh, I'm just a lowly insect to his light. Ooooh! Stamp on me with your light, MY KING YAZOO! I'M UNWORTHY OF YOUR LIGHT, MMMMM PUNISH ME! OOOOOH!


Okay, with that few lines you've witnessed from my brain, you might not believe me, but on the outside of this absolutely convoluted brain of mine, lies a beautiful student council president of the Donutville High School, Tifa Lockheart. Man… If only my name works like a charm and I could lock Yazoo's heart!

Recently though, I've got several issues.

It seems that I have a stalker. As much as I want it to be Yazoo, he is not. How do I know? Coz, I do the stalking when it comes to Yazoo, duh?

My everyday life in high school goes like this:

6:30 am: My alarm with a printed coloured prinze Yazoo's gorgeous side-view (apparently stalking = at best, side view.) taken when he was drinking from a tap. When I took that picture, mmmmmm, I got so turned on by the water droplets dripping from his chin down his nnnnneeeecccckkkkk… AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! DID I SAY THE WORD NECK? OMG HOW CAN I DEFILE MY PRINCE BY SAYING SUCH A HOLY PART OF HIS GODLY BODY! KYAAAAAAAAAAA! Anyways… The alarm clock rings... (I know you're thinking it'd be Yazoo's voice… I've thought of it, but 1) it's impossible to record his voice, I'm not that high level of a stalker yet… and 2) if it was his voice, you dumb bitch, will I ever wake up?)

7:00 am: Make my way to the bathroom (You might be thinking what I was doing from 6:30am to 7:00am, well, mostly I'm kissing my alarm clock. Yes, laugh all you want, measly beings that are looking into my head, but my prince needs some loving in the morning.).

7:40 am: Finished whatever I was doing in the bathroom.

7:42 am: Toasting bread… While thinking of Yazoo.

7:45 am: Brewing coffee while thinking of Yazoo.

7:50 am: Flying out of the house thinking of Yazoo.

8:15 am: In school. School starts at 7:50 am, but as you know, I was thinking of Yazoo, so school can wait.

8:25 am: Reporting to class, while getting praised by the homeroom teacher about me being a role model, patrolling the school every morning. (Yeah right, I was at home, dumb bitches. They think I reach school early to patrol and deal with my council shit, but bitches are W-R-O-N-G! HAHA!)


Between 8:27 am 14 seconds to 8:29 am 38 seconds, Yazoo will walk by my homeroom class. Yes, his beautiful derrière will shake as he pass by… NO IM NOT STARING AT HIS BUTT, I SWEAR! NO I-I MEAN PRINCE NEEDS TO GO TO THE WASHROOM. AND NO! IT IS NOT TO FUCKING SHIT, YOU DUMB BITCHES! PRINCES DOESN'T SHIT! HE IS JUST THERE TO ADJUST HIS UNIFORM AND HAIRSTYLE.


Then between 8:49 am 26 seconds and 8:42 am 03 seconds, he will walk pass again, MMMMMMM! Yeah… Walk by again…

(The following will be summarized as the author does not wish to look further into the fucked up brain of our female protagonist: Basically, it's all about what Yazoo does.)

Oh god. I am such a creep.

Author: Yes you fucking are.