A/N: No beta, enjoy.

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Masturbation sucks. For one reason, and one reason only, it is the simplest way to remind someone exactly how lonely they are. Remind me how lonely I am. I won’t say it’s a waste of time, that depends on personal opinion, but anyone masturbating without a lover… is just pathetic. I group myself there too. When the day drools on and I’m stuck on a plane again, too tired to lazy to take a shower and too tired to kill time any other way that previously said. I write, I travel, a lot. My name is Mike Shinoda. I couldn’t start like Charles Dickens and David Copperfield, this isn’t my start that was just a hook. Did it work?

It really does suck, though. Remind you how lonely that you are. I’m travel around the world looking for the inspirations of my romance novels, and I see it everywhere. Couples, thousands of them, millions here and there, together in love and that is how I start my novels. After I travel for an unspecified amount of time I look around for the perfect one and I take their descriptions and write about it. It has never mattered whether it was a man and a woman, two women, or two men. I take their descriptions and give them a story. They’ll probably never read it. It doesn’t matter, I’ve written at least forty books, and not one of them has been about me. It never will and I know it. What can I do but to document what I see? Let me say more about myself. I’m a loser. I had all of one relationship in my life, and that ended with that sweet brunette cheating on me with my so called best friend, it was in High School. All that sweet brunette taught me was how to kiss and how lonely I was destined to be for all of time.

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I sat out under the Maple Tree in a park in Maine, it wasn’t usually the best geological point in the world for romance, but Steven King seemed to think that it deserved mentioning. I was here for three weeks looking finding and seeking the perfect couple for my next novel, if I didn’t find someone by then I was to be off to Rome, getting snapshots of people on their honeymoons or the random happenstance couples. If I could only find them, the next victims, my gaze swiped the park. There were two elderly people holding hands, maybe, I could see the woman’s long grey hair shortening and turning a light shad of hazel before my eyes, the man’s slump lessened and his shoulders broadened. They were a cute couple when they were young but no story came to mind. Time to move on. After fifteen minutes a girl in jean shorts ran toward a tree and hid behind it, her long blonde hair swishing from right to left as she peeked from side to side. I watched as her boyfriend ran after her with a smile on his face, his calves tensing up as he too swayed back and forth, trying to catch her on one side or the other. Thankfully, he did get her on the side that was facing me. I allowed myself to smile as his big arms wrapped around her, they were both laughing and she playfully pushed her weight into his chest, and fell on top of him. It all slowly turned into a long kiss. They were completely oblivious to anything around them. Adorable, but I couldn’t see myself writing a happy ending and I didn’t want to write another sad story. I slid my hands into the pockets of my grey suit, letting my notebook and pen slide off my lap to the right. I stared at them long enough for them to stop kissing and I watched as the guy leaned up against the tree, the blonde leaning her head against his chest, she could probably hear his heart beating. I wanted to hear someone’s heart beating.

“You’re people watching.” a voice to my left accused, “I don’t know for what purpose, but it isn’t the best use of time…” By this time I had turned my head around to see the man next to me, he was slender, and his sand brown pants had been cut, or ripped off at the knee. The most noticeable thing was the “Men in Black” sunglasses that sat on the bridge of a nose which curved to the left at the tip. I followed the glasses and ended up at his bleached hair with brown roots poking out at the bottom. His Metallica shirt was worn down to a light fabric so it was easy enough to see the shape of his abs as it fell on them. His over all appearance of was confident… mostly because he wore bright green flip-flops easily “You’re not really close enough to see them blink.” he turned to me and smiled, his white teeth making his pink lips look slightly red. He held out his left hand from the loose clasp over his crotch it was in with the other. “I’m Chester.” I reached out with my own hand,

“Mike.”

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A/N: What’s the verdict?