Cupid Meets Stupid

Chapter One

"I know I may not be the best person to give advice in matters such as love, but please be not so blind as to consider the feelings of those who actually love you. And try not to keep lying to yourself either."

For a moment or two, Enrique's shock could not give way to indignance for the succession of events that happened next.

"What is the meaning of this, Enrique Giancarlo Tornatore?!" shrieked the blonde's 138th date since Bianca and Rosette. "After I finally get convinced to actually date a playboy like you!"

She resoundingly slapped the Italian's confused-looking face before picking up her purse and briskly walking away, leaving the poor boy still frozen halfway through an arm-caressing position.

After a while of letting things sink in., Enrique exploded at his privacy-intruding team captain.

"What was that for, Robert Jurgen?!" he said angrily to the reproachful-looking German in front of him. "That was totally uncalled for! I'm here peacefully enjoying a day out and then you come barging in saying things like that! If you think that purposely breaking me up with my girls would get me to come and train, think again! What you did was downright rude! For someone who doesn't like uncouth people, you act pretty uncouth yourself."

Robert seemed to be somewhat expectant of the outburst as his expression did not change.

"Oh get real, Enrique. Do you actually think I WANT to go around breaking your relationships up? I'm working in the aid of an extremely friend, in case you're wondering. And no, it is neither for sadistic purposes! I just wish you didn't take things as they are, if you even bother to take things in...but no--!"

"There you go again with being vague!"

"--you're too wrapped up in yourself to notice anything amiss around you! Why, if the world ended today, you wouldn't notice! ...being in the arms of girls who you've just met and don't even have a fraction of love for you, unlike some more-deserving people!"

"What? What?!" Enrique's voice had risen to a shout. "What don't I know? What's this crap you bring out of the blue now? Does this have to be so rash and inopportune?!"

When the elder Majestic failed to come up with an answer, the Italian sighed.

"Look," he said, gathering his belongings. "I'm out of here. Don't expect me soon. I won't be able to forgive what you did THAT easily."

Enrique stalked off, leaving a Robert more uncertain than when he first came to confront the playboy.

It was the early afternoon in Luxembourg Park. The air was sweet and alive with birds. As of the sky...it's brightest blue.

---

There was a distant slam of the double oak doors marking the entrance to the Les Desmond Mansion. A swift streak of yellow passed Oliver's peripheral vision.

The French boy had cooped himself in the comforts of his grand kitchen again as he had done for the past several unproductive days. To the confusion of most of his lodging team mates, their youngest member had busied himself with whipping up sickly sweet cakes and other edibles hardly appealing to any of them. And when it came to meals, however, the pro-chef would vehemently refuse to cook them, leaving the work to his trusted maids.

Before, he had been the one who would enthusiastically volunteer to create everything eaten by his team; the change in behavior distressed Robert and Johnny immensely.

That afternoon, Oliver had no heart to do anything food-related.

"Enrique?"

His soft query went unheard and unanswered as the blonde's long and frustrated strides were too fast for him. Only when Robert's pensive form appeared by the kitchen's doorway did the greenette stand.

"What's going on? I thought Enrique was on a date?" he asked.

The German shook his head, somewhat disconcertedly and Oliver was unsure if his captain had even heard what he said.

"Robert?"

The elder teen turned to him with resolute air. "My humblest apologies, Oliver." A hesitant pause followed before he added. "If you would excuse me, I'm off to find Jonathan." With that, he walked away.

Oliver frowned after him for a few moments before making haste for his best friend. With some surprise, he found the blonde packing, though not heavily, but it seemed like it was for a short trip.

"Enrique?" the greenette asked quietly, fearing to agitate the other boy, seeing his foul mood. "What happened?"

Enrique took one long look at him and sighed. He stopped what he was doing and sat dejectedly on the bed.

"Robert was a jerk again."

"How?" Oliver went over and sat beside him. The German had looked un-jerk-ish when he saw him. Something must've happened in Luxembourg Park.

"He so rudely broke up my date with Cecile," complained the Italian. "He accused me of not being faithful, of being blind, lying to myself and other crap vague stuff. I mean, I really made an effort to make Cecile go out with me! I don't even know what suddenly brought this about Rob; I didn't understand him one bit! What he said got Cecile all upset and so she left."

Lavender-lilac eyes traveled to an angry-red hand print on his companion's sun-kissed cheek and guessed what occurred.

"Why did Robert do this to me?" was the continuation. "Do you know?!"

Oliver looked at his best friend with his mouth slightly open and an apprehensive expression plastered on anxious features. He was internally battling with himself. He knew Johnny and Robert were bound to find out what was troubling him. He knew that they would be more than eager to help resolve it. Most of the time, what they would do to achieve that resolve would go without consent, permission or even simple information whatsoever.

But none of that now; the fat was in the fire. The greenette knew full well what the blonde was talking about. He knew the reasons behind Robert's odd actions and much more.

If he told Enrique right then and there, would he understand? He had to be honest; the Italian had been thrown into cluelessness, confusion and pain. He had the right to know what was going on. Besides, the pair had been best friends for years and stuck by each other. Keeping secrets was taboo...but the circumstances have changed.

"It's..." Oliver began; his throat had suddenly become dry. "It's because I..."

Without warning, Enrique's felt soft lips press desperately against his own. Out of reflex and shock, he pushed the younger boy away and stared at him with wide, summer blue eyes.

"Is...is this a joke?!" the blonde spat, disgust ringing with each syllable.

Tears welled up in lavender-lilac eyes as they hardly took in a look of scorn thrown their way, nor did they notice the swift departure of the room's occupant.

Enrique was straight...stiff as a post! How could he think of doing such a stupid, stupid thing?!

Oliver broke down on the bed, mourning over his humiliation and the greatness of his loss at the same time the Italian was sprinting across the neatly trimmed hedges of the Les Desmond Mansion and running out the gates.

Running far away from impending insanity...

It dawned on him that what Robert had said somehow made sense, but did nothing to brighten his day.

Rather, all these were making it worse.

TBC

A/N: I'm sorry if this chap was confusing! Include any questions when you review...thanks! ...enjoy!xD and ciAo...