It's a relatively quiet day at the DX, and you're currently sitting on the hood of whatever car Soda is fixing up. Or, at least, he would be fixing if he weren't so distracted by the gaggle of girls surrounding him.

You don't miss how they inch closer and closer to him, some giving you knowing glares, others too busy giggling at every word he says and twirling their hair to even care that you're watching.

It's enough to make your blood boil, and when they finally decide to take the hint and leave, still smiling and swooning, you feel about ready to snap.

It takes every patient bone in your body not to scream when he turns to you, flashing you an oblivious smile. "You okay? You look kinda... upset?"