"I love you, Vin." She says, latching onto my arm.

"I love you too, Olivia." I reply, she squeeze my arm a little tighter.

We've been together officially for 4 years. We were that couple. The one that seems perfect. We never really fought, or disagreed on anything. We just kinda agreed on the same thing whenever something came up.
I motion that I needed to get up out of bed, Olivia responsively releases me from her clutches. I meander to the bathroom to begin the morning rigamarole, Shit, shower, shave, etc.

“Hey Hun, guess what tomorrow is?” Olivia pipes up from the bedroom, Probably looking at the calendar she put up over my desk.

“Whath?” I mumble through my toothbrush, mirror inadvertently getting the shrapnel of toothpaste-spit all over the mirror. I do my best to wipe it down with a nearby rag.

“My 25th, and yours the day after the next.”

Son of a bitch.

How did I lose track of the days like that?! What the hell am I going to get her? Augh... Twenty five... How did I make it this far myself, with a girl who seems to love me? I push these thoughts around for a moment before turning on the shower.

“I have choir practice today, don’t forget!” she says, letting off a little giggle. This tells me a multitude of different things. One, she knows I don’t have anything planned or Two, She doesn't know and is just reiterating details I’ve known for a long time now. Yes yes, choir practice every thursday till 11 pm.

I finish up and get out of the shower, and proceed out into the bedroom, nothing but towel hiding the family jewels. Olivia just smirks as I stand in the bathroom doorway, superman pose and everything.

“Easy chief, If you don’t get around you’ll be late for work.” She says, laughing a little as she passes by, closing the bathroom door tightly behind her. I relax my pose and proceed to get dressed in some decent pants, and a regular button up shirt. Another soul-crushing day at a data entry job. Oh well, a good session on the DJ tables I’ve been toying with the past few months trying to learn will help recover some of it when I get home.

“Bye, Olivia, I'll see you tonight.” I say, cracking open the door and sticking my head in.

“Have a good day, Don’t let the nasty upper-management thugs keep you down!” She says, with a stereotypical Pep-talk tone to her voice.

“Right. I’ll just threaten to beat them with a baseball bat, like I always do” I reply sarcastically. I grab my keys off the table to the right of the door. I’ll admit, soul crushing job aside... It pays pretty well. We’re in the city in a relatively decent sized apartment, with two rooms, kitchen and living room. One of which we had soundproofed as much as possible without violating the lease, for recording purposes. I’m not as musically inclined, or haven’t been until recently, as Olivia. She is in the local orchestral / choir society, and deserves to be.
I get in the old beater of a car, a Toyota Tercel, that has been around probably longer than I have. All held together by the will of the automobile lords, and absurd amounts duct tape. I proceed to disengage the anti-theft device combination lock that is the ignition sequence... kick the floorboard three times... turn the steering wheel all the way to the left... then right... flick the lights... jiggle the key. Then and only then does the hatchback zombie of a vehicle gurgles to life. Okay, it is probably a little asenine to keep this thing when I could probably get something else that at least doesn’t require a rain-dance to start. What can I say? The thing has a bit of charm to it.

After a load of traffic, I arrive at the complex. I noticed fewer cars than normal contained in the lot designated ‘Employees Only’. Once inside, I see a single man at the main help desk that I don’t recognize.

“What...? The entire Division?! OUTSOURCED SUDDENLY OVERNIGHT?!” I’m a pretty healthy individual... but this sent my blood pressure skyrocketing.

“I tried calling you!” said one of the supervisors that walked by, carrying a box of office supplies.

“Should have kept your contact info up to date on the office contact list.” he piped back up, as if it even mattered anymore. Fact of the matter is, I did good work and got everything done in a timely fashion. However I undermine all non-essential things like the contact list. Vendors would just walk by, copy it, and send it off to who knows where, and suddenly half the staff had magazine subscriptions they didn’t order.

“What am I supposed to do for work now?!” I say, holding back the damned floodgates of hell.

“Well we’ve prepared a list of bullets points anyone can put into resumes, of which we've included reference and contact information for future employment assistance!” spoke the lackey of the big-wigs, who came down to supervise the office shut down and clean-out. He reeked of corporate slime. I wanted to massacre him, right there. Just turn him into a puddle of red jam-like substance on the weathered gravely carpet. To say I was angry is an understatement. How dare they shut the entire division down?! There was NOTHING about it the previous day! If anything there were talks about another division joining ours. I did nothing.

The spokesperson had wandered away at some point, muttering something about his condolences, and wishing me good luck on the job hunt.

I check my phone, at this point it is about 10:30 am. I’m emotionally drained. What will I do? For that matter, what will WE do? Olivia’s singing does get a good bit of money, but not lots. Definitely not for an apartment like ours, and not alone. I walk like a zombie back to my car. I sat there for two whole hours before making the decision to drown my new problems in potentially unhealthy doses of alcohol. With that decision made, I awaken the elder gods that keep my mode of transportation alive, and head home.

I stumble into my bedroom, no decent alcohol joints are open for drink serving quite yet. I dig into my private stock of alcohol, normally saved for happier occasions. I grab a bottle, remove the cap, and thusly pitch it in whichever direction it so pleases to fly. I sit at my computer and turn it on. I look at the calendar to see two days circled in red, Tomorrow, and Sunday... SHIT! Olivia’s Birthday! I look at the untouched alcohol.

“I have time...” Besides it was only 1:40 pm, I had the entire day, thanks to being let go. I decide that a little mixing would help vent as well, as I pull out my rather dusty DJ deck, with digital spindles that represent vinyl record platters. “Hello, old gal”. I take a swig of the delicious nectar of the gods and get down to business.

“Olivia! you were great today. Wanna come with a few of us out for a drink? It’s your birthday tomorrow isn’t it?”

“Ah, yeah. I really shouldn’t though...” Olivia replies, sheepishly. Vincent would probably have something planned.

“C’mon, live a little!”

“No, really. Vin probably has something back at home...”

“Alright! your loss!.”

Olivia pulls out her cell, 11:15 pm... 45 minutes till I’m twenty five. She pulls up the contacts list and dials Vincent’s number.
*ring ring*
*ring ring*
…

“I’m sorry ‘Vincent’ is not available at the moment, if you would like to leave a message, please wait till after the beep... *BEEP!*”

“Vin? are you there? Probably have your phone on vibrate... I’ll shoot a text and call the apartment, if you don’t answer I’ll be going out with some friends...Okay! bye!”

She types out a message repeating the same thing as the voicemail. then dials the apartment landline.

“I’m sorry the number you dialed is not available at the moment, if you would like to leave a mes-” Olivia hangs up... I guess he didn’t have anything planned for tonight...

“Hey, Is that offer still available?”

I lift my head up off one of the turntable platforms. What the heck... Did I fall asleep DJing last night? I rub my face and open my eyes to have them barraged from the daylight from the window behind my computer, making it painfully clear that i was hungover. I bump the mouse of my computer to wake it up... the time shows 8:45 am... OH CRAP I’M G.. Wait.. I’m unemployed... Right... I would be running late...
I see a lump in bed sleeping still. I get up and go toward the bed. I lift the covers enough to get in close to Olivia. Wait... What's that on her thigh? A violet treble clef? Birthday present for herself? Oh son of a biiiitch. I never got a present... Olivia begins to stir.

“Vinyl...?” she says groggily.

“No, I’m flesh and bone! nothin’ fake here!” I say cheesing it up worse than a cheese factory, completing it with a perfect shit-eating grin.

“...What are you talking about...?” she says.. seemingly irritated.

“What’s wrong with you?” i ask, concerned.

“Mmmmh..drinking...” she mumbles into a pillow. She suddenly lifts her head, looking at the clock.

“Vin! you should have been gone 20 minutes ago, what are you doing here?!”

“I-uh- called off! yeah! Happy birthday! I’m your love slave for the next 48 hours!”

“Don’t say those wooords...” she groans.

“You emptied... an entire thing of spiced rum. Why aren’t you in misery with me, or dead?”

“I am, just as your slave I’m not allowed to complain!” Actually, besides the initial pain of the light... I actually started to feel better.

“I had the weirdest dream last night... I was on stage... solo... I was waiting for someone who hadn’t shown up... I felt like absolute shit, but something happened... and... crap I don’t remember the rest...” she says, scooting back in the bed to lean her back against the headboard of our bed.

“Speaking of drinking... These something that resorted out of a drunken choice?” I expose the treble clef on her right thigh.

“W-what?” She stammers and looks

“OH CRAP, WHAT?!” she looks at it and rubs at it, however it isn’t phased.

“This can’t be real! I wouldn’t ever think of getting anything like this!” she says panicking a little.

“I think it looks kinda cute on you.” I reply, she looks up like i had insulted her on a bad level.

“No! I can’t have this! The choir! They’ll kick me out! they have strict rules and crap about this kind of stuff!” she says, putting her hands into her hair.

“We’ll figure it out... Wait hold still…” I lean in closer to her face.

“Did.. someone give you colored contacts or something?” I say, staring into her violet eyes.

“W-what? I’d know if I had contacts in... Colored? No you know I have brown eyes!”

“C’mere.” I say, walking around to the other side of the bed, grabbing her outstretched hand, and helping her out of bed. We walk into the bathroom, and she looks into the mirror.

“Oh. What? Wait… WHAT?” She says, failing words. she pokes at her eye, as though attempting to dislodge a contact

“There’s nothing there! my eyes somehow changed... There’s no alcohol that does that, is there?! No, that’s stupid! As far as I know there isn’t ways to physically CHANGE your eye color... let alone to an odd color...WHAT DID YOU DO?!” she turns to me, like flipping a switch, instantly furious.

“ME? WHAT I-” I stammer, nearly falling backward at the sudden accusation.

“YOU! You.. You did SOMETHING! This is a prank or something because of my birthday! ISN’T IT!” she says, beginning to sound hysterical.

“No, Olivia! why would I do something like this!”

“Don’t lie to me! I know you! I called you and you didn’t answer last night! you were plotting this!”

“Olivia!” I say, and throw my arms around her. she lets out a little sob.

“I didn't do this! I don’t do these things! I might pick at you a little, but I’d never go as far as putting something permanent onto you!” I explain to her as convincingly as possible. I pat her head a little. She must have switched shampoos or something because DANG it’s soft as silk! I couldn't quite pin the scent either.

“Your hair feels nice, if that’s any consolation...” I say comforting her in any way I could.

“We have the next three days ALL to ourselves. we can look into getting... wait is it on both sides?!” I turn her sideways. she lets out a loud groan and I look at her just as i see tears start streaming from her eyes.

“Aw babe, no! It’s going to be okay! don’t cry!” I hug her again, trying to cut off whatever waterworks is supplying the tears.

“I need to lay back down...” She says. I release her from my embrace. I follow her as she climbs back into bed, failing half way and just laying face first across the bed, groaning.
I turn on the TV that sits across from the bed. I sought distraction from the issue currently at hand and figured the media center would supply that much. Apparently, I had been playing some song from the original My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic show. I must have mixed with it at some point last night…

“Ponies? Really? How’d I manage to get that-... wait a second...” I say and turn to look at Olivia.

“Octavia’s Cutie mark” I say out loud

Author's Notes:

If you see something off please highlight and comment here;
http://goo.gl/8Oe1a

I'm still kinda new at fanfic writing! so critique is encouraged! there are some things I may readjust and expand upon later, but the story itself won't really be affected. (It'd be more potential hole-filling edits more than anything.)

Other than that, enjoy! if ya liked it, tell me so, and favorite!