Title: Pixel Perfect

Author: Elli Cole

Rating: Mild M—very!

Feedbacks: Delighted if can get plenty.

Genre: Romance, slight Fantasy, and humor.

Based From: Loosely based on the movie, Pixel Perfect. Eep! Loose?

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, okay? Good.

Summary: He created her. She was nothing but a program. He grew to love her. But she was only a perfect hologram.

A/N: This is another story created by me. Yes, yes. I've got so much posted already but I just can't help myself. Oh, and for those who would want to co-write with me, scroll down later at the bottom of this chapter.

Chapter One

Perfect (adj); without faults, flaws or defects; excellent.

It wasn't like he was desperate or anything, no.

He was definitely not since he had plenty of girls that flung themselves constantly at him so it didn't matter to him that much if whether or not he found his perfect girl. He was smart, athletic, rich, and good-looking—what every girl desired the most. But it wasn't enough.

He had been hurt twice now. His broken heart now hard to mend for the second time. They were the same, both of them. All they wanted was the popularity that came with him. They only wanted him as an accessory to show to their mates. It hurt him, yes, but not as much as the hurt he felt when he gave himself fully to them.

He loved them.

They just threw his love away.

It also offended him at the same time. What flaw did they saw from him? His silky chestnut locks perfected by his stylist had been the center of some girls' affections and as well as his intense amber eyes. They frequently complimented them first before everything else. So, what didn't they like from him?

He shook himself out of his reverie and focused his attention to one blonde who had decided to talk to him suddenly. His surroundings dim yet colorfully lit by the disco balls that revolved at the ceiling. His eyes squinted to see the girl's form clearer but the damned lights were destroying his view.

"So, Syaoran," she cooed flirtatiously. And, why the hell was she referring to him in the first name basis when he hadn't given her permission to call him that? "I was wondering if you'd like to—accompany me to my hotel room?" She suggestively licked her upper lip for emphasis.

Syaoran was in the verge of vomiting all over the blonde. He shook his head sincerely yet the venom was present in his voice as he spoke. "I'd rather not. I'm a pretty busy man."

The blonde pouted and fluttered her eyelashes at what she thought was cute—which was not—on her, that is. "But—I'd be really lonely without you—"

He cut her off with a dry laugh. "I'm not really interested. So, if you please." He looked at her expectantly, a brow quirked. Her eyes widened in disbelief and she grumbled in dejection.

"Nobody had turned me down before!" She stated, unnerved. "No, no… you must be kidding, right?" She asked dreadfully.

Syaoran almost pitied the girl. She was hyperventilating rather strangely… in an angry sort of way and it was scaring the hell out of him. He weakly smiled at her. "I'm truly sorry about that, then." He stood up from his seat and walked away, leaving the blonde wailing at his wake.

&

In the comfort of his mansion, he sighed exasperatedly and ran his fingers through his chestnut mane. He was fed up with all the girls that come up to him looking for nothing else but sex. He shook his head as he heavily plopped down his tired form on his awaiting bed.

He closed his eyes and pictured himself with his mystery girl in his arms—suddenly writhing in pleasure. He shivered abruptly and opened his eyes. Not that thought again. Hormones, once again was being a pain in the arse. He rolled off from his bed and sat up, looking at his surroundings.

Something seemed—different. Somehow, his room had warped into a futuristic theme and it astounded him. He turned his head from right to left and his eyes narrowed suspiciously. If his room had changed drastically, that means—

"Hiiragizawa," he growled. "Come out."

A figure magically emerged from the dark corner of his room and chuckled at him amusedly. "Syaoran, it's been a while."

Syaoran laughed sarcastically at him and glared at the new person in the room. "Shut up, Eriol. Why are you here?"

Eriol, a bloke with navy blue hair and dazzling blue eyes, smiled at the fuming Syaoran who sat stiffly on the bed, still glaring at him. "Well, I've assumed that you are still mourning over your last girlfriend… which is really a pity." He drawled apathetically. "But then again, you're always a sour prat."

Syaoran growled angrily and stood up, ready to pounce at a chuckling Eriol. "You bastard, I don't need you here so you might as well leave me be!" He sneered. "I feel bloody hell when you're here anyway."

Eriol raised a brow and retorted calmly back. "And does that mean that you're not feeling hell already?"

Syaoran groaned and stomped his foot madly on the carpeted floor. "You stupid fuck! Just go away… I don't need you here!" He grumbled.

"Tsk, tsk. Syaoran, such language." Eriol teased dryly. "But really doesn't matter now, no other lady would take you anyway."

Syaoran snarled at him and took a demanding step towards Eriol's nonchalant form. "For your fucking information, you bloody lummox, I've just turned down the fifth blonde that asked me to accompany them to their hotel rooms… and you know what that means, don't you? Oh, no, wait… you don't." He shrugged him off and walked past Eriol, their shoulders bumping against each other.

"I can make you the perfect one."

Syaoran stopped frozen.

"You'll be bound to respect me," Eriol continued. "You'll even thank me on one point or the other."

Syaoran slowly turned as Eriol whipped out his staff and projected an image—

—perfection.

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Syaoran: You know, I may not only be a bloody Sex God to women but maybe—also to guys. Look at Eriol, he couldn't resist my charms.

Eriol: You git, not everybody likes your pompous arse.

Syaoran: Are you admitting that some people do like my pompous arse?

Eriol: …

Elli: By the way, to those who wants to co-write with me on one of my fics, "The Elven", please contact me till December 4. If nobody wants to, I shall have to delete it.

Syaoran: Noooo… I'm the main character of that fic! You can't delete it!

Elli: Shut up.