Kitty: I honestly don't know how I came up with this. Huh. Strange.

Juvia: Juvia thinks that you're losing your mind.

Kitty: Don't all great writers do?

(Kitty doesn't own Fairy Tail or NYU or Starbucks. Or a lot of things. I do own the rights to this story and Wiznit, so no stealing!)

Every time Erza asks if I wanted to go out to a party, I always say no. It's mainly because I want to stay in and write my books and what-not. I pretty much prefer writing than socializing. Do I have social anxiety? Hmm, that's questionable. Do I hate leaving my dorm room for trivial things like parties or talking to someone other than Erza or Lucy or Levy? Hell fucking yes.

So tonight, when Erza asked me (yet again) if I wanted to go out, I just smiled and shook my head. "Nope," I told her. "Got a date with Toby and Jenna." My character's names. Basic, I know. But according to baby naming websites, they're a hit. Don't judge.

She just shook her head and sighed. Her red hair fell slightly over her eyes as she looked at me. "Can't spend your whole life here in this room. You're going to graduate in two years, Juv, and it's only the beginning of the year. Live your life!" And then she turned on her stiletto heel and left our dorm.

What does she know? I have a life! I go out! It may not be every weekend like Erza, but I still leave this place. I have class and writer's club and book club. I kinda have to leave for those things.

But right now, as I'm sitting here on my ultra comfy bed with my laptop in front of me, the Don't Look Back document open up on it, and a cup of tea on the bedside table, I can't help but wonder if what my roommate was saying was right. Maybe I should get out of the house and explore the world. Maybe I should get out of my extremely cute sweatpants and go to that party with my friends. Maybe I will!

Nah.

I feel the most comfortable in my room with my super cozy blanket and my plush dolls I made a while ago. Tight dresses and miniskirts are so not my thing. Big sweatshirts and pajama pants are. Sometimes, when I don't want to write, I'd go down to the little coffee shop down the street and read. I'd still dress down and wear sweats, but at least I'm getting outside of my room.

Sighing, I take off my glasses and lay back. I've been stuck on the same page for the last two hours now, and that irks me to the end of the world and back. I rub my eyes. Maybe spending the entire day on my laptop wasn't the greatest ideas. I groan and roll of my bed. Erza always keeps a bottle of Excedrin in the bathroom cabinet. That reminds me. I have to get a bottle of my own.

Erza-unlike me- doesn't clean the bathroom, leaving me to be the one to clean it. It's strange; she's normally a neatfreak. Her bedroom is extremely organized with her pencils in little colorful cups and all of her homework in drawers labeled for each class. It's cute, but I'm personally more of a fan of folders and binders and boxes. You know, those little photo boxes that you can get at Hobby Lobby for five bucks? They're my favorite. I buy them so much, that my entire top shelf of my closet is full with them. It's where I put my shoes and scarfs. And hats. I have a lot of hats.

I opened the mirror to search for the medicine only to see that we were out. Great. Migrainville here I come. Sighing yet again, I turn and leave her bathroom. Looks like I'm going to have to… have to… have to interact with people. Translation: I have to leave my room and go down to the convenience store. My purse-a leather bag that I got from Target- was sitting on the counter where I left it last. We always leave our purses there that it's got to the point where we have no idea where else to put them. The coat rack is a foreign object here.

The hallway's filled with people that are either about to get drunk or already drunk off their asses. One couple was practically eating each others face off near the elevator. Number one reason why I don't go out on Friday nights.

The elevator couldn't come fast enough. I tap my foot repeatedly against the floor as I waited. A few feet away from me, a boy (why did I choose co-ed dorms?) whistles and says, "Damn, girl! That's a fine ass! Wanna save seats and sit with me?" I roll my eyes. He is obviously drunk, and that was totally a fail. Maybe he should realize that his brain doesn't belong in his dick but his head instead.

Elevator silence is actually comforting to me. There's no reason to talk, no reason for awkward silence. It's just peaceful. But then a girl from the second floor gets on and disrupts my precious silence. She's short with long white hair. For some reason, she wore cat ears. Must be a freshman. I've only seen the freshman dress up like that here. Everyone else just kinda… gave up when it came to dressing up. Unless it's for parties and dates and what-not.

"Be careful tonight," the girl says eventually. "Tonight's a big night for partying for some reason. There are a lot of drunk guys outside of our hall tonight." Then she struts out of the elevator as if she didn't even say a word. I blink. Did I bring my pepper spray?

For some reason, the convenience store with the bright fluorescence lights and the dead-on-his-feet cashier actually comforted me at this time of night. It must've been my fear of being raped by some drunk frat boy. I immediately went to the drug section, wanting that image out of my head.

Another guy (he had black hair that I was sure if he died it or if it was really that dark) was just a few feet away from where I need to be. He's wearing a sweatshirt with our school's initials-NYU-on it and rolled it up to his elbows. Sweatpants. Nice. I applaude your fashion sense, sir, as mine is the same. I look down to check what I was wearing. The same exact outfit. I bet if we ever dated, we'd be the couple that matches unintentionally but just goes along with it.

My blue eyes scanned the shelf of the store for the Excedrin. Apparently, I was humming a little song about finding the glorious pain reliever because the random guy hands me the bottle. I glance up. Whoa. He's really really attractive. His hair falls just above his dark blue-black eyes, and he's in serious need of a razor. If you look closely enough, you could see the scar peeking out of his hair. His nose was slightly crooked, too. "Here," he says. "Last one. It was over here by the Tylenol."

I grab it. "Spasibo," I say in Russian by habit. My father is from Russia, so he taught me and my three brothers the language. His eyebrows scrunch up in confusion at my mistake. Before he said anything, I corrected myself. "I meant to say 'thank you' but it came out in Russian. Sorry."

The guy laughs and scratches his head. "It's fine. My mom's Russian, too. It's just odd to know someone else here that speaks it. I guess I was thrown off-guard."

It was my turn to be confused. There is literally a smoking hot guy who was kind enough to hand me a bottle of my magic stuff and he speaks Russian, too? Where has he been my entire freshman year?

He smiles (it's kinda like a half-smile but both corners lifted up) again. "My name's Gray. What's yours?"

"Juvia," I say, a small smile coming on my lips. I suddenly wish that I wasn't just wearing my writing garb and a seriously messy bun. Are my glasses on or am I wearing my contacts? When did I last brush my teeth? Great. Of all days to not care about my appearance, this hand to be the one I meet possibly the hottest guy I have ever laid my eyes on. A stray piece of hair fell into my eyes, and I pushed it back before looking away. "Nice to meet you."

"Yeah," Gray said. "Nice to meet you, too."

He leaves to go to the register. Whoa. His back. Like damn that's a fine ass back. I wonder if he plays any sports. He has to to have a back like that. But as I'm staring at his back and lost in my mind, I forget to ask for his number or any other ways of meeting him. For all I know, he's already graduated or a senior. I hope not. I'd like to meet him again.

I shake my head, put the bottle of pills in the basket, and went to go find some sugar and caffeine. It's a long night of writing, and I finally have an idea.

"Have you been up all night?" Erza asks as she walks into the kitchen the next morning. She walks over to a cabinet and grabs one of her favorite mugs. "You were still writing when I got home. You're going to damage your eyes that way."

"I know, I know. But I met a guy last night, and it gave me a great idea, and the words just wouldn't stop flowing. I think I fell asleep about an hour or two ago." I say as I shut my laptop. Erza nods and reaches for the cabinet where we keep our coffee, completely forgetting the part where I said I met a guy. When she couldn't find any coffee, she turns around and looks at me pointedly. I look down sheepishly.

"I guess I also forgot to mention that I drank the rest of the coffee…"

My redhead roommate just rolls her eyes and puts the mug back up. Her hair is in a ponytail, swinging back and forth as she moves. "Since you drank all of the coffee," she says, "even down to the last vanilla bean creamer, you have to go down to the Starbucks and get us some coffee. And food. And water bottles. And-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. I'm not going out on a full grocery run." I get up from the table and stretch. "I still need to sleep. I have a deadline for my story to be uploaded onto Wiznit. Why should I have to go."

Erza glares and sits down. She rubs her temples. "Because I have a hangover and you drank all the coffee. And I'm in your pajamas and you probably never took off your bra from last night." How did she know that? "The faster you leave, the faster you and I can go back to sleep."

Blowing air out of my nose, I grab my purse and shoes and leave the dorm room. The halls were a lot more quieter than last night thankfully. I step over some guy holding a beer can that has yet to awaken. Animals. This is why I don't drink. Well, this, and I'm still twenty. I promised my mom that I would wait till I'm legal age to drink and she'll buy me a car. That was three years ago, and I'm still going strong. Losers.

Starbucks was just a few minutes away. It helped with my sleep-deprived state. Walking too far from my initial starting place and my destination in this state would be torture and death. At least I did track during high school for like two years.

At 7(ish) AM in the morning, people are just waking up. It makes the lines shorter and my torture less. Some guy that was like six foot seven was in line in front of me, making it impossible to decided what I want exactly. He finally moved (thank heavens) after the longest time. "Hi, welcome to Starbucks. May I take your order?" The cashier says. "Oh, hey! It's you!"

I look down from the order board to the guy only to see that it's the pain reliever. What was his name? Gay? Gavin? Greg? Gray! Haha, I know a name! And no, I totally did not look at his nametag and cheat.

Smiling, I say, "It's me in the flesh." Fuck. That was creepy. But Gray didn't seem to think so. He just gave that sorta smile and looks down at the computer-thingy. "I take it you didn't have a good night's rest last night?"

"Nope." I shake my head. "Up all night with a migraine and a story. Seems like I just couldn't go to sleep." Are we flirting?

Gray's eyes flicker up to mine. "A story? Was it good? It must be for you to be up all night reading it. What would you like to order?" I look over to the delicious looking pastries before looking into his eyes. "Two lemon pound cakes and two grande mochas-white chocolate." I waited until he was finished with putting in my order and I've paid before continuing. "Actually, I was writing the story. It's kinda what I want to do when I graduate."

"Oh?" He asks as he gets Erza and my breakfast. His sorta smile grew bigger a little bit. "That's actually really cool. What's it about?"

I take the breakfast that he hands me before shrugging my shoulders. This might be my chance to ask a guy out. I probably won't ever see him again if he rejects me. Maybe I'll bribe Erza to get the coffee instead if he does. With these thoughts in mind, I start to move out of the way for the patient dead-on-his-feet freshman to get his coffee. "I guess I could let you read it. Unfortunately for you, I don't have my computer with me."

Gray quickly takes the order of the half-asleep customer before turning back to me. "Any other way I could read it?" His eyebrow rose slightly. Just one, not both. I gulp a little before saying, "You can on Wiznit. I post chapters on there regularly."

His eyes brighten up immediately. I can tell that he actually wants to read it. Normally, when I tell people that I write of Wiznit (an ebook websites that allows unpublished/published writers post their works on there), they alway look at me funny. I haven't decided yet if it is because the don't know what it is or the just think I'm weird for wanting to voluntarily write. There's nothing wrong with writing! Without writing, where would we be in the world? There would be totally anarchy. So I win. Haha!

"Can you give me your username? I could look you up." He says, leaning over the counter slightly. His hair falls slightly over his eyes at the movement. I cock my head slightly. This is like the geek's way of asking for their number. Is he a geek? Maybe a fellow writer. It doesn't matter. I shuffle through my bag for a second, looking for my little notepad. I quickly scribble down 'Juv-bug95.' Don't ask.

"Thanks," Gray puts in his frocket (I love that word.) "I'll look you up when I get off."

Smiling, I turn around and begin to walk towards the door (after I get my coffee, of course.) I'm stopped, however, when a human giant stands in front of my way. "You look like shit, Juju. Did you stay up all night watching those sappy romance movies again?"

Gajeel's piercing red eyes gleam in mischief as he asks. His annoying smirk stretches across his stupid face as he towers over me. I glare. "No. I stayed up all night writing Miss Me, Miss Me. Erza still made me go get the coffee, though." Gajeel snorts. His hand comes up to ruffle my already messy hair. "That's stupid. You probably would've been passed out already. Why'd she make you get it?"

"I drank all of the coffee."

He rolls his eyes and moves away from the door. "See you later, Juju. Gotta pay the bills vdor Levy will be pissed."

My best friend goes to the back room while I leave out of the front door, both coffees in the cup holder and our breakfast in my purse. From the street, I can see Gray watch me walk down the street. That made me put a little more pep to my step as I walk back to my dorm. When I walk back into the dorm, Erza questions my sudden happiness and leans against the counter.

"This," she says, gesturing towards my happy jump, "is new. What happened in the thirty-six minutes you were gone? It's like you've been taking shots of those go-go juice stuff those toddlers use to drink." She takes a sip of the coffee and hums. "This is good shit."

I trace the rim of my cup, my smile never leaving my face. My eyes catch Erza's confused face. Deciding to tease her a bit, I say, "Just a guy."

Erza's confused face grew deeper then widened in shock. "A-a-a g-guy? You mean an actual human being of the opposite sex that's not Gajeel or that creepy stalker? Have you actually met someone? I need answers! Explain, woman, explain!"

"Okay, okay," I laugh. "He's just a guy I met yesterday while buying Excedrin-which is in the cabinet next to the fridge." She nods and reaches to get some. "But I met him again at Starbucks. He's the one who took my order, and I told him about the book I'm writing on Wiznit. He told me he would read it."

Erza grins despite her pounding migraine. I could feel my eyes drop even without the coffee, and I'm seriously regretting staying up all night. At least I got in three new chapters (score!) My roommate reaches for her black purse to dig something out of it. Finally, she pulls out her Galaxy whatchamacallit. Personally, I'm an iPhone user, but whatever floats your boat. "We have to tell L-squared." She says as she starts to unlock it.

I get up from my seat at the table and walk over to her. I grab the device away from her grasp before she could do anything. "No," I say, "we have to sleep. Especially me. I had about an hour's sleep last night, and I would like more. I'll tell them when I wake up."

She pouts but doesn't go for her phone again. This is how I can tell that I won. Smirking half-heartedly, I turn for my bedroom. I raise my hand in my 'I'm too tired to tell you goodnight but you're still special so here it is' thing. Erza hums her response before going into her own room.

I sleep almost immediately when I land in bed, dreaming of a gorgeous barista and some coffee.

Kitty: I've wanted to write a Juvia-centered story like my All Because of the Gay Best Friend one. You know, Modern AU style. Hope you guys like this and my amazing cover I made myself! (Plus, go read my Because of Will and The Ball story on Wattpad.) Au revoir, my lovelies!