Dedication: to sandyrain on LiveJournal

Disclaimers: All characters used in this piece are the intellectual property of Goro Taniguchi and Sunrise. I wanted to make a witty comment, but failed.

Character: Milly Ashford
up to interpretation

Summary: Five ways to dump a guy and one that doesn't really count.

Five Ways to Dump a Guy

Some women do not need to feel safe and secure in the arms of a man. Some women do not need to be romanced. Some women are not in perpetual heat and do not, will not die if they do not get hugged and kissed every twenty four hours. And some men simply cannot understand that. So from my experience, here are five ways to tell them to get lost without your parents lecturing you about social and political standings.

The first way probably shouldn't count, because my parents gave me the lecture anyways, but it does count because it was simple and brilliant and because I said so. He was old and lecherous man, probably a general or something. We met at some arbitrary, unimportant place (read: I can't remember where for the life of me) and talked, although I'd bet he was pretty keen on doing something else. I stayed at leg's distance away from him. He crossed the line, and my foot flew up and "accidentally" hit him somewhere that really hurts. I "swear" it wasn't on purpose. Of course, maybe I should've told him the restriction first? But then again, we were playing a guessing game, and it would be cheating if I told him the answer.

Two weeks and a boring lecture later, my parents arranged another guy for me to meet. He was young and handsome. My parents had smartened up apparently. I decided to smarten up too. On our first date, we went to Clovisland, a newly opened amusement park. He was a bit of a NASCAR fan, so we naturally went to the Go-Karts. "Ladies first" he told me, when we sat down in two different cars. Quite a mistake he made there. But then again, men first wouldn't have made a different anyways. He was doomed either way. I sped along and he followed on my heels. The kart was going as fast as it could as we neared the first turn. I slammed on the brakes, and spun the steering wheel as fast as I could. He screamed (like a girl, may I add) and slammed on his own brakes. He managed to skid to a stop before colliding into me. Thankfully, NASCAR fans know a little about driving. While I was perfectly fine and grinning like nothing else at his girly scream, he was panting and half scared to death. "I'm so sorry!" I called to him in a sickly sweet voice, "I was scared at the turn because I thought I was going too fast and would hit the sides! And then I guess I hit the brakes too hard..."

"It''s fine," he replied. "Just...just back up a little and straighten yourself out. But I think...I think I'll go in the front this time. Just to show you how to do things, you know."

Bullshit. Like I could see how he was braking if I was behind him. The coward was an insult to NASCAR. But it was all the same. I'd have my fun anyways. "Like this?" I asked, and reversed the kart, bumping into the back of his.

He winced at the impact. "Yes, like that..." I waited for him to pass, and then trailed behind him. I went slowly, waiting for the distance between us to increase and for his guard to go down. One of the karts in front of us had a bit of an accident, which resulted in a traffic jam. His kart slowed to a halt, with a decent amount of distance between him and the kart in front of him. Excellent. As expected as a car fan.

I pressed harder on the acceleration, although I wasn't quite sure if the kart was even going any faster. He turned around to face me just as I smashed into him. "Sorry!" I shouted, trying to conceal the grin on my face. "I thought that the jam would be finished by the time I got there, and you guys would already be accelerating!"

Despite a sheet-white face, he slowly nodded. He bought it. Stupid. The jam cleared out, and we moved along. Since I couldn't be slamming into his kart all the time, I settled for nudging him every few seconds. "Oops! Didn't brake soon enough!" "Sorry! Stepped on the wrong pedal!"

Needless to say, he was not too happy once the laps were finished. He loved driving anyways, though, and put us back on the queue. We got there, and he wanted to drive me, but I absolutely refused and went on a rant about sexism (and didn't even quite know what I was talking about). He gave in, although I could see that fearful look in his eyes. He should be. I also tried to convince him that only sissies wear seatbelts, and real men rely on their balance. He didn't buy it. Wuss.

"Which pedal is the brake again?" I cried out as we neared a turn.

"The—the left one!" I slammed on the accelerator. "No, the other left!" I obliged him. After all, I would be without repercussions if I hit the sides at this speed.

We came to another turn (God, how I love them). "Did you say something?" I asked him deliberately, turning my head away from the road.

"What—No! Keep your eyes on the road! There's a turn!"

"What'd you say?" I leaned in closer to him, keeping my foot on the accelerator. "The road has an urn on it?" With a pale, horrified face, his mouth opened to speak, but I stepped on the brakes and he ended up screaming. For a racing fan, he was a sissy. "Where's the urn?" I asked when we came to a stop. He, apparently, was too busy at death's door to answer me. "Did I run over it? Is it valuable? Is it one of those irreplaceable Greek ones?" I heard a whimper in response. Seeing the pale face, I decided that I would stop being so cruel to the poor boy, and drove on nicely for the rest of the run. I like to think that I saved a man's life that day. I never heard his name being announced as having crashed during a race, because he gave up that profession entirely. I also like to think that I kept a man from going down a road that wasn't right for him. But of course, the most important thing being: that day was freakin' awesome.

The next one was a very nice boy, docile and gentle and he has such a shy smile. I almost felt bad about having to dump him. But my independence was at stake, so sacrifices must be made. He asked me, once, to have a walk with him. We went to an isolated park, and walked along the stone pathways. He blushed and stuttered in his usual adorable way, and I really did feel terrible and wondered if I could spend just one more day with him (although I knew I couldn't spend an eternity because while I'd be sympathetic forever, it wouldn't be a very long forever because he'd bore me to my grave). But still, this was such a perfect opportunity that wouldn't come up in a while.

We sat down on a bench for a break. "Is it just me, or is it really hot today?" I asked. It was such an overused line, but he was young and innocent and didn't know anything, so I might as well save myself the trouble of originality. I unbuttoned my blouse, leaving quite a long slit, almost to the middle of my breasts (and I chosen this blouse especially for this reason). As for my already slitted skirt (don't you just adore the Chinese?), I just had to cross my legs. How brilliant am I? You're not even halfway through this story.

"Uh..." he blushed and looked away, "N-not really."

"Really? Then I must be coming down with a fever," I placed the back of my hand on my forehead. "Oh, I think I am! Here, feel me." His face whitened a bit before realizing what I meant. I took his hand and placed it on my forehead, leaving his elbow to droop near my breasts.

He wasn't oblivious to that either. "Uh-uh... Y-yeah, I, uh, I guess you are. Um..."

I let his arm go. "Oh, and I think I'm a bit dizzy too. I should've listened to my mother and wore a hat. Can I—May I rest a bit...on your shoulder?" I was trying my best to sound like a weak, blushing schoolgirl. I think I liked playing slut better.

"I, um, uh, well, I guess... S-sure..." I laid my head on his shoulder, turning my body to him to make sure he could see everything. I purposely let my hand drop onto his leg. "Uh..." he stuttered, without saying anything comprehensible. He was almost at his breaking point. I could tell. It was my first time, and I was a veteran already. What did I say about being brilliant? He finally mustered up the courage to tell me to "move my hand the hell off". I may have edited his words a bit for your viewing benefit (or not).

"What did you say?" I picked my head up, pretending not to hear and brushing my breasts against his arm. That did it. He jumped up, screamed an apology and ran off. I bit my lips, trying to stifle my laugh until he was out of hearing range. That was fun. A bit cruel, but fun.

I did a little research beforehand on the next one. Quite frankly, listening to men you don't care about just to devise a plan to rid them from your life forever is obnoxious. Reading the information off sites you shouldn't have access to (thank you, Nina!) is much quicker. He was scared of heights. And I hear amusement parks are still the latest dating spots. He obligingly went, and turned out to be a complete geek. He wore suspenders. In public. On a date. Suspenders. It took all my self-restraint to not murder him then and there, because I refuse to be seen in public with a guy so unfashionable as to wear suspenders.

But despite being an unfashionable geek with the largest glasses in the world, he wasn't completely blind (and that may have been what saved him). I begged him to go on the roller coasters and gave so many reasons, but he refused. I had to settle for Ferris wheel (after I goaded him with "don't tell me you're afraid of heights?"). We got on and he tried to make himself feel better by listing all the scientific and logical reasons why he shouldn't be afraid of heights (or at least, that's what I think all that mumbling about friction and terminal velocity and impulse were about). Amusingly enough, he ended up mumbling about mammary glands. Very flattering, but we were already near the top and he wasn't as freaked out as I needed him to be.

"Hey, do you think the Ferris wheel cars can rotate 360 degrees?" I asked, as if vaguely wondering. He stuttered "probably", and then started discussing engineering (I think). "That's all I need to know!" I cut him off and got up. I walked over to his side, and his blushing and stuttering worsened because certain body parts were on the same level as his head. He wasn't so happy, though, when I leapt to the other side, kicking the side of the car. He screamed like a girl (why do they all do that?). I jumped back to the other side, hitting the other wall. The car was actually swinging a little. Not much, but enough for the poor guy to start bawling like a baby. All this wasn't unnoticed down on the ground. When our car stopped and the doors opened, a police officer was waiting there. I quickly jumped out, kissed the officer on the cheeks, and ran off while he stood there with a gaping mouth. And technically, I wasn't breaking a law and I gave the officer a bit of a gift, so I was able to leave the park scot-free, laughing the whole way.

The next one my parents sicced on me was the worst. Somehow or other, they managed to find a complete dope who falls in love with the first girl he sees (or something). That being me. Even to this day, I never figured out whether he was just that stupid and dopey, or if he actually loved me.

Either way, he was insane. Flowers, chocolate, ballads, poems; he went the whole nine yards and then went for the tenth. He thought I was slowly falling for him too. My mom thought it was romantic. My dad thought it was funny. I thought it was plain creepy, and really wanted to file a restraining order. I couldn't though, because he wasn't exactly bugging me. He was the type of person who sat at your doorstep every day like a kicked puppy until you felt bad enough to let him in. And you cannot file a restraining order against someone just for sitting on your doorstep.

I tried kicking him in the crotch. He caught my leg, reprimanded me in his usual dopey way, and then commented on seeing my underwear (I knew I shouldn't have worn such a short skirt). I took him to the amusement park, rammed him as much as I could on the Go-Karts (until one of the attendants made me get off), made him ride every dizzying ride the park had to offer (by himself, of course), and made him stand for hours in the sun with all sorts of random nonsense items I bought from gift shops just to make him carry things. He was completely unfazed at the end of the day, and still had on that stupid, dopey smile. As a last resort, I tried to threaten him with a chainsaw. All that did was get me kicked out of the theme park.

We sat on benches right outside the park, because I absolutely refused to endure another day of stalking and had to figure something out. "I have AIDS and herpes!" I cried out suddenly. At that point, I was hysterical and at the end of my wits. He told me he loved me anyways. It was beyond frightening.

It was then that I realized that I had to do something drastic, because I was absolutely not going to give up, especially not to an idiot like him. "I...have a confession to make." My face dropped, and I stared at the ground. "I think you've noticed that I don't like you?"

"Don't say that! I know that in your heart of hearts, you love me!"

My hands clenched and I felt like puking. Several times. Just to cleanse my body of that disgusting thought. "No. I don't. See, there's someone else I love. And you can never replace—"

"I can change!"

"You can never be like him. No matter how much you change what you're like, you'll never change who you are. And I love him...for his very person, for his very soul and essence. When he is himself, there is a depth I almost dare not tread, but compels me all the same. And when he pretends to be someone else, a boy tying to be a man, I love him all the more because of that exact way that he cares, that he tries, that he is prideful. You can never become him."

"That's not true! We're soulmates, I know it!" I stared at him. I give him a whole long tragic-heroine speech (that bored me to death, by the way), and he didn't even blink?

I like to think of myself as a respectable lady. And respectable ladies are not vulgar, and do not curse. But this situation warrants it: the guy was a fucking nutjob. But two can play at this game...

While he was preaching his absolute, eternal, irrevocable love for the umpteenth time (and I sometimes wonder if it wasn't exactly the same as the last one), a plan was formulating in my mind. "Please...stop it." I took his by the shoulders, using the most dramatic voice I could muster. "Stop loving me. Forget about me. If you don't, my lover...he'll..."

"No! Nothing he can do will break us apart!" I was hoping that he would be scared silly already, but it didn't matter. That just meant I would have some fun. I'd say it was a fair exchange for having to put up with him.

I told him that I had to get home and get some sleep, and he grudgingly let me (thank God he wasn't a stalker type). The next day was a school day, and I needed to gather the Student Council. What better way than my daily announcements? "Today's surprise event! A game of tag! With, of course, Milly-kaichou's special rules! Anyone who manages to tag a Student Council member may kiss them, or force them to do homework for the tagger! The only safe base is the Student Council room! And, as a special, special bonus today, the first member back into the room will earn a kiss from yours truly! Now...GO!!" They all came, Lelouch being first (escaping from a legion of girls). I played with his mind for a while (oh, the power of breasts over men), but ended up pitying the poor boy and blowing him a kiss. As if I would sacrifice my first kiss just for fun. When everyone assembled, I stood atop my desk, accidentally (or not so accidentally) kicking off the paperwork, and briefed everyone to my ultimate master plan, which I had spent all of last night scripting out in its entirety, along with dropping a "hint" that anyone who helped would be free of all duties for a month.

The next day, I led the doofus out to an isolated park in the evening (yes, I love those too). We talked, and I tried to the best of my ability to not be pissed off beyond belief. We came along a bench, with Shirley crying on it. I cried out her name and ran over to her. We pretended to whisper, and I turned back around to him and asked him if he could wait for me here, while I helped my friend with some trouble she was having. We went off trail and into a forest enclosing. We found the rest of the council there, naturally, except for Kallen and Nunnally. Lelouch and Suzaku had argued that this was much too dangerous an undertaking for either of them to do. In their place, Rivalz's bike came. And yes, it would be put to very good use.

Shirley and I hid behind some trees, while the boys stayed in the enclosing, waiting for my suitor to come looking for us. Sure enough, he did, some minutes later. Lelouch, in his black sports jacket and all of his drama queen glory, sprung upon him, gripping the collar of his shirt. Unfortunately, his noodly appendages couldn't quite support lifting the blockhead up. I actually wanted him to point a shotgun instead, but even for me, illegal firearms were a bit far (besides, Suzaku was being a prude and refused to swipe anything from his job for me). "I heard you've been touching my girl. And no one touches my girl. No one...alive, that is." He gave an evil smirk that even I couldn't match.

"You've got to be kidding me. Milly is—her parents arranged for us—"

"You think I give much of a shit? Anyone who touches my girl – and I don't care why – is going to suffer some...shall I say, consequences?"

"H-hey, don't kid around like that. It's not funny."

"Kid around?" Lelouch scoffed and yanked on the poor guy's collar. "This guy needs to be shown that we're serious. So...let's show you something...funny." He nodded towards Nina. She took a square object from her bag, a makeshift little box of metal. On the front was a digital countdown, taken from an alarm clock and with the reading adjusted by Nina, and buttons on the back from a Gameboy Advance. Not that he knew, of course. Nina pressed the buttons, none of which were good for anything but intimidating decoration, and then threw it a distance off. A flash of white and a loud boom soon came back. He yelped, backing himself into a tree. It was actually a perfectly harmless thing. What did Suzaku call it again? A bangflash? Something in the military used to scare people, but did absolutely nothing.

"You know, I'm sure we can come to a peaceful agreement and uh..." he whimpered, grasping for words.

Lelouch spoke instead. "You know what? I don't think this guy has had enough yet. He's still trying to negotiate with us. We don't do negotiation. We tell you what to do, you fucking do it. Right, boys?" Lelouch had argued vehemently with me about this part of the script, but I told him that no respectable gang member, nevermind the mafia, would talk eloquently with an SAT vocabulary. If he was to be a bad guy, he'd have to act and talk the part. I think he took it a tad bit far, though. "Hey, Radner, Uzuka! Give him a little fright, would you?"

"Sure thing, Ruruko." Yes, I had to name our dear Lulu that. My suitor was a Britannian anyways, so it wasn't like he would see the humor in it. Rivalz and Suzaku took him and with a rope, tied him securely to the windshield of Rivalz's bike. The poor sap screamed and yelled, asking them if they were kidding. No one replied. With a serious face, Suzaku climbed onto the bike, and revved up its engine. Lelouch had commented that he had stolen a car and drove quite well when the two of them were younger. The man screamed louder, but everyone ignored him with poker faces. Suzaku drove off with him, accelerating along the stone pathway of the park. He screamed and cried louder, although it faded with the distance. Fifteen minutes later, I heard a shrill shriek and winced. Rivalz commented that Suzaku must've burned the back tire making a 180 turn like that. Suzaku came back, with the man fully intact. He also brought along the acid smell of urine. Quite a lot of it. Turning off the engine, Suzaku untied him and let him stand up with shaking legs that could barely support his weight.

Trying to ignore the smell, Lelouch walked up to him. "So, are you going to be messing with my girl again?" Lelouch gruffly tugged the guy by his collar, his menacing snarl only inches away. He was, perhaps, just as brilliant of an actor as I am, and enjoying himself a bit too much (although he denies it to this very day, because he refuses to be compared to me in any way).

"No, sir," he replied meekly, and I almost beginning to feel sorry for the poor sap. Almost being the key word, as always. Lelouch threw him off, and he landed on his butt before scampering off.

I bit my bottom lip to keep myself from laughing, and knew that I would risk being given away. In the end, I couldn't help it, though. "GUUUTS!!" I yelled after him and burst into a fit of giggling.

The next day, my parents received a phone call from him, in which he stuttered out that he was terribly sorry and he wouldn't ever see or touch me again and please don't hurt him. My parents knew it was all my doing, but they had no concrete evidence, and knew I'd fling that at them if they tried to speak to me about it. And that, was the end of that.

Not the end of the matchmaking though. The current one is an earl. Draped in a lab coat, he doesn't look it at all. He does look and act every bit the scientist though. He's off polishing and investigating some large contraption, leaving me waiting by the door. I feel like I've been stood up, and that has never happened before – at least, not by a guy and not with these assets, and least of all for scrap metal. So for the first time in my life, I feel awkward and not quite certain what I should do. A woman comes up to me, leads me to a seat, and asks me to sit down. I do, and she goes over to the earl, and yells at him and he pouts back at her. I think, this time around, I won't even have to take the trouble of dumping him. But, for some reason, awkwardly staring at foreign buttons on the control panel in front of me, I'm not quite happy about that.