Okay...so this is a new thing where I'm writing one shots with silly Twilight pairings. I already have a list of pairings my lovely friends suggested to me. My lovely reviewers can also suggest pairings they would like to see me try. This one is dedicated to ...World.! She is craving some Seth/Angie so I gave her some ;)



She's not surprised when Ben breaks up with her. Angela is a very sensible girl. She designs pros and cons list. She owns a day planner. She watches the Discovery channel for fun. Web MD is bookmarked on her computer.

Angela has read enough biographies to know that love doesn't last forever. People grow apart, cheat, get a divorce. People die. Angela isn't dead, but she might as well be.

Even though Angela is sensible, she spends the day after the break up in bed watching home makeover shows. Once in a while she'll see a lamp she really likes, or wallpaper that makes her cringe. When the home owners see their newly refurbished digs, Angela cries because her own life is so crappy. She wouldn't mind getting a makeover. A brain makeover.

"Go get drunk," Jessica suggests when Angela calls her. "Wait! Let's get drunk together! Oh my god let me change into my drinking boots!"

Angela is a lousy drunk. There was this time when she had one Apppletini at a party and spent the rest of the night in the fancy bathroom, hunched over the toilet.

Jessica shows up in her drinking boots (which are just dilapidating go-go boots held together with duck tape colored in with pink Sharpie maker). Angela is wearing a tasteful sweater because it might get cold and she's sensible.

"I got our designated driver in the car," Jessica says, patting her friend's shoulder sympathetically. "So you can drink as much as you want. Just don't puke in the car, okay?"

Jessica uses every occasion as an excuse to drink. She loves dancing, booze and men. Guys break up with Jessica all the time. She gets mad, cries until her eyes swell up, throws things and then sleeps for six hours. Maybe Angela should try that. Minus the throwing things part. Her roommate wouldn't like an upside down TV or a bonfire on her side of the room.

"This is Seth," Jessica says pointing to the nervous guy driving the car. "He's Leah's brother. He may or may not be old enough to drive, but whatever."

Jessica turns up the radio and starts singing along except she's not very good so Angela starts getting a headache. Seth is focusing on the road in case a deer or a mailbox jumps out at him.

Ben didn't like drinking. He liked putting Kool-Aid in the freezer to make popsicles. But it took forever for them to freeze so they would watch X-Files and Ben would call her Scully and she would call him Mulder.

She almost starts crying, but remembers that she's in the backseat of a Buick with Jessica Stanley and a guy who may or may not know how to drive. She can see her life passing before her eyes even though she's only twenty-one and not having a near death experience. In fact, her life is pretty boring. There's not much to see. One time she fell out of a tree house.

The bar is musty with a thick aroma of cologne and awkward conversation. Jessica ordered Seth to say in the car ("like The Club," she had explained) because he may or may not be underage. Jessica doesn't want to be in any handcuffs unless they're lined with fur.

Inside, Jessica orders them fruity smelling drinks that make Angela question her life choices. She wants to be back in Ben's dorm room eating noodle cups and playing scrabble.

"Bottoms up," Jessica says and the night begins.


Everything is going pretty okay. There's a hockey game on TV. Some guys are playing pool. She smells peanut butter for some reason. She starts eating from a tin of cashews. One of the cashews gets lodged in her throat so she has to order another fruity drink to wash it down.


Angela can see a drunken Jessica dancing on top of the pool table while guys throw dimes at her. Angela recalls when Ben took her out dancing. He got winded and had to sit down.


Her head feels like a balloon. She can't see Jessica anymore. She has an aching suspicion that Jessica left without her. That is something she would do.


The bartender (who to FDA looks like a half-man, half-dragon) tells her that she's "had enough" and then may have taken a twenty out of her pocketbook. She teeters out of the bar, holding her loafers in one hand and a handful of cashews in the other.

Seth is still waiting in the car which means Jessica's probably in a hilarious misunderstanding, but Angela is too drunk to care. She presses her face against the cool glass window and says, "Let me in, Club."

"Where's Jessica?" Seth asks through the window.

"In a hilarious misunderstanding."

"Are you drunk?"

"I'm not sure."

Seth lets her into the car. She bangs her knees on the dash, but can't feel it. Angela spills her cashews on the floor.

"Where are my shoes?" Angela asks, staring at her toenails. They're a sensible clear color. She wiggles them.

"They're in your hand."

"I broke up with my boyfriend, you know," Angela says while Seth goes about starting and maneuvering the car out of the parking lot. "Actually he broke up me, but what does it matter? All I know is he wasn't happy with me. And people should be happy in relationships, right? I must be too boring. That's why he broke up with me. I've never been hang gliding or scuba diving. He wasn't happy with me. You know those picture frames with the smiling people?"

Seth doesn't nod. Angela keeps talking anyway. "I'm so jealous of them because they'll be happy forever."

"They're not really happy," Seth says. "It's just a picture."

Then Angela starts crying. Crying. With the tears and everything. There's a cashew stuck between her toes.

"Oh fuck," Seth says. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck."

He keeps saying "fuck" like it's the magic word to make her stop with her elephant sobs.

"I'm happy," Angela cries. "I'm happy and sensible and blah."

"You know what's funny," Seth croaks. "I don't even know where you live. I've been driving around in a circle for the past five minutes."

"I have a day planner!"

"Ha…this is really awkward."

"My life is over."

She's being melodramatic and she likes it. No one ever gives her the chance to be melodramatic. So her drunken self spouts off all the ridiculously contrived shit gorgeous soap opera actresses say. Seth just listens because if he says "fuck" one more time Angela will "shove a toe cashew up his nose".

Five Drink Angela weighs a lot which Seth finds out when he ends up dragging her all the way to her dorm room. The entire way she's babbling about Seven Up and Trading Spaces. The whole experience is surreal. He hopes this never happens again.

"Do you want to see my DVD collection?" Angela asks.

Seth props her up against the door. "I'm just going to leave you here."

"Bye." Angela tries to wave, but she accidentally slaps herself in the face.

She fishes through her pocketbook to locate her keys. There's so much crap in there. More crap than she remembers. She clumsily gets down on her knees and dumps the contents of her purse on the welcome mat.

It's only after she sifts through the birth control pills, crumpled grocery lists, sticky press on nails and poker chips that she comes to the realization that this is not her pocketbook.

"Fuck," Angela whispers. She never swears (out loud). "Fuck." It makes her feel dangerous. She can feel her sensibility decreasing with every cuss.

Seth comes back after a while, hands stuffed deep in his pockets. Angela should be grateful for his overwhelming guilt, but she is too busy swearing. Seth stares at the pile of lady crap forming a moat around Angela. His brain tells him coming back was a bad idea. But since when did Seth Clearwater listen to his brain?

"Hey, Club," Angela says. "This isn't my purse."


"My keys aren't in this purse because it's not my purse," Angela says more slowly. "I can't get into my room 'cause I don't have my keys. Crazy, right?"

Seth stares at her face now. She looks drunk and sad and fucking insane. So Seth helps Angela put back the lady crap in the purse that isn't hers. He guides her out of the building and back to the Buick.

She slides into the backseat and says something like, "Move. That. Bus…."

He drives around town until Angela falls asleep. She snores.