This is the fiction I shall work on next, when I finish with the others. I will update it too, though in a slower pace. Not too much drama in this one, rest assured. This one is a crack fic, for some laughs, yes?

Enjoy!

XXXX

Bang, bang, bang!

Sienna eyes slid open lazily, his drowsy mind alternating between consciousness and unconsciousness, not quite registering what was happening.

They'll go away, he thought and went back to sleep.

However karma was such a needy bitch some times.

Bang, bang, bang! "Ichigo Kurosaki!", screamed a loud female voice from the other side of the door, "Open the goddamned door before I lose my patience!"

Ichigo groaned, rolling on his stomach and covered his head with the pillow. Why was she here?

Oh yeah. The manuscript.

The manuscript of that fucking story he had been writing for the past twelve months; the same story that had drained him both physically and emotionally and he would have quitted the writing process had not his editor and best friend, Rukia Kuchiki, beat some sense into him.

Quite literally actually. That fucking bitch kicked like a spooked horse.

However, he wasn't happy with what he had created. Not even the tiniest bit. Call it stubbornness if you may, but he held such grudge towards the story that had haunted him which in the end was, to put it simply, a bunch of crap. It would sell, he was confident about that, but for him something was missing. Something important. Something that brought it together in harmony.

Maybe some of the fire he initially had, you know, when he had first started writing it.

It was all too perfect, too predictable. The happy ending cliched, expected. His female fans would surely appreciate that the handsome young and unlucky protagonist had found the true love in the face of the famous, also very much male billionaire. Oh so predictable and slightly pretentious happy ending, if you asked the author in charge.

Yeah, he wrote about gay stories, so what? Some people liked it, good for them. The others should just shut up and drink their own cup of tea. He'd had enough of nasty reviews from homophobic assholes.

Ichigo crawled out of his bed and stumbled to the door, letting out a long string of curses on the way. There wasn't another option really; Rukia would never piss off until she got what she wanted.

Before the door was opened enough yet, a blur of black brushed past Ichigo, entering his apartment in the speed of light without his permission. Thankfully for her, Ichigo was too tired and too lazy to care. Closing the door behind him, he turned to face his editor, only to have all the danger alarms in his body blinking neon red.

Oooh shit, the woman was furious.

Black eyes shining with murderous intents, small fists clenched next to a narrow waist, and usually pale white skin flushed in agitation; Rukia looked positively ready to kill Ichigo and eat his heart. Or give herself a heart attack from too much stress.

"Ichigo Kurosaki," she said in a contained voice, "Where is the manuscript?"

Ichigo sighed and scratched his orange hair. Yeah, orange. And it was real too. "It's in the flash drive on my desk," he said calmly, not really having the energy to argue with the furious woman. Not that would ever stand up to her, he wanted his dick on the correct place, thank you very much.

The raven haired woman's eyes shined before she turned on her heel and practically lunged at the desk. Ichigo rolled his eyes; if there was anyone to claim the title of his work's biggest fan, that would certainly be Rukia.

"Ichigo Kurosaki's brand new masterpiece," she said dreamily, holding the flash drive in front of her face, her slim fingers holding the device delicately as if it would break if she applied any more pressure. "I am holding it in my hands!"

"Yeah, yeah, just take it," he said dismissively, shooing her with a motion of his hands, "It's just a bunch of bullshit anyway."

Rukia glared heatedly at him, perfectly trimmed black eyebrows pulled together in a scowl. "Don't speak of your work like this."

"Allow me to know my work better than you," he said sarcastically, running a hand through his orange hair in agitation.

"So you're saying that you spent a whole year on some bullshit?", Rukia enunciated slowly, her dreamy mood apparently evaporating. Ichigo didn't care though; she was oiling the fire. The murderous type of fire, not the inspiration type. The fire that had been going on for a long while now.

The problem was for how long Ichigo would be able to keep it under control.

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

Rukia crossed her hands in front of her negligible chest, "So, how is this going to work, Ichigo, huh?", she asked, clearly pissed off, "We're gonna sell a bunch of bullshit to people?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth. "Just take it and go. I want it out of my life."

"But-But!", Rukia pressed, "It's your story! Your baby!"

"It ain't a baby Rukia!", Ichigo finally snapped, his voice progressively raising.

Oh, it was on. She had triggered the fire, now she'd get burned.

"All this time," he growled, seething his teeth, "I couldn't get any chapter right; you'd always send it back to me saying that something was missing."

"Yeah, that was simply because you were too lazy to care!", Rukia shouted back. They were now in each other's face.

"Too lazy?", Ichigo hollered, "Too lazy? I'll tell you what I was, bitch! I was fucking miserable! I was miserable and no one, not even you who were supposed to be my best friend, ever took notice of it!" He was pacing up and down his small, one bedroom apartment. He licked his lips, ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat before continuing.

"You are all blinded by my work's success that no one ever cares how I feel! You know what, Rukia? I didn't spend the last three years of my life, sitting on a fucking chair until my ass turned flat just to be called lazy by someone who doesn't even care to know what was goin' on! Why do you think I couldn't get the chapters out, huh? Why do you think that everything was a bunch of crap? Why do you think that I don't want to hear or read anything else about this fucking story? I'll tell you why!", he snarled in her face, "Because it makes me sick!"

Rukia was still looking at him, but now black eyes wide in shock. It took her some moments to react to Ichigo's sudden eruption, which gave Ichigo the time to regather all his scattered thoughts and emotions. He facepalmed. Fuuuuuuck, he inwardly cursed, How could I let my control slip like this?

"Why I don't know any of this?"

Ichigo cackled dryly. "You never cared. Whenever I called you, you were always busy or doing something else. You even dared to yell at me for being an asshole and not finishing the story."

Rukia licked her lips nervously, the guilt obviously filling her usually cold eyes. "I-I'm," she stuttered dumbly, "I'm sorry."

"Heh, now you're sorry," Ichigo muttered sarcastically, "I don't need your fucking pity, Rukia. Just take the fucking thing and don't ask me to do anything about it any more. Or I'll erase it and cancel its release."

The shorter woman scowled, and ran her hands through her shoulder length black hair. "Ichigo, I don't really care about the manuscript right now," she said calmly, reaching out and placing a hand on his face. "Talk to me."

"Fuck you," Ichigo grumbled and swatted her hand away, "I don't wanna talk to you."

If it was someone else other than Rukia, Ichigo would never talk to them like this. Rukia knew him ever since diapers, so was accustomed to how short tempered he was and she knew he didn't mean most of the things he said when in rage.

She sighed. "Call Renji?"

"Che," Ichigo snorted, "Renji is a douchebag. He doesn't speak of anything else other than football and food."

She frowned. "Don't speak of him like this. He's your friend too."

It was true that as much of a best friend as Rukia was, just as much was Renji Abarai, the red haired tattoo freak.

"Yeah, but I don't want to talk to him either," grumbled Ichigo, almost petulantly.

"Okay," Rukia admitted her defeat, "But you need to talk about this with someone." Her black eyes suddenly lit up.

"How about a psychologist?", she suggested, her voice chirper than before.

Ichigo quirked an orange eyebrow. Psychologist? "Psychologist?"

"Yeah!", she exclaimed, a small smile tugging the edges of her lips, "My brother has a friend who is a psychologist, very good at what he is doing and very professional. How about you give it a try?"

"Rukia, I don't need any fucking shrink," Ichigo bit back acidly, "I can take care of my own business."

It was Rukia's turn to raise an eyebrow sarcastically. "You do what now?"

"Oi, fuck you!"

"Ichigo, seriously," she said, her face serious again, "Try it out. Just once. If it works, then go to more sessions. If you don't care, then just tell the doctor you are fine and not go again. He'll understand."

It took a while of studying Rukia's expectant face before Ichigo sighed in defeat and nodded affirmatively. He didn't have anything to lose. Maybe the shrink would help him put his thoughts in order, who knew?

"Alright," he muttered, "I'll go to your 'psychologist'. Although I don't believe in this shit."

Rukia jumped and clapped her hands together in glee. "Perfect!", she chirped and walked towards the door.

Before she left, she glanced over her shoulder and smirked at the orange haired man.

"I'm going to work my magic on your masterpiece and get you another best seller! How many do you have already?"

"Four," Ichigo muttered indifferently.

"Make it five!", she cheered enthusiastically, her face shining so bright it made Ichigo cringe.

"Yeah, whatever, just go," he said and pushed her out of the door.

"I'll send you the information about the psychologist via e-mail!", she said just when Ichigo had shut the door in her face.

"Whatever," he mumbled, mostly to himself.

Now that Rukia was gone and the fucking sorry story was out of his life as well, it was time to sleep again. Flopping onto his bed, Ichigo was out like a light in less than ten seconds, the back of his mind still singing about his upcoming psychology session.

Aaah, who cared after all? He knew he didn't. If visiting a shrink would get his muse back at him, then to the shrink he'd go. But for now, sleep.

XXXX

This came out so easily. Maybe because I can totally relate to Ichigo in this one. I started writing it when I was frustrated with one of my stories as well XD

So? How's the first impression?

Queen.