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A hot, sticky summer afternoon with the week still in head of me and nothing planed. I was going to have fun. Not.

Before I go on, I might as well introduce myself. My name is Apollo Justice, I am an Attorney-at-Law, and have an unfathomable love for the colour red. I work for the ‘Wright Anything Agency’ (formally known as the Wright and Co. Law Office) in a sense, and have only four trials under my belt, all with ‘Not Guilt’ verdicts. My ‘assistant’ is Trucy Wright, adopted daughter of ex-attorney Phoenix Wright and magician-in-training. My court rival is Klavier Gavin, younger brother of my former mentor, Kristoph Gavin, and rock star. He wears EXTREMELY flashy clothing, lots of gaudy jewellery and has lots, I mean LOTS, of guitars in his office. He had his office soundproofed so he could listen to his music to however loud he wished (which is pretty loud). Anyway...

So there I was, lolling around on the couch in my apartment, praying that something interesting would happen. Then, Trucy rams through the door and starts shaking me like I’m some rag doll and yelling gibberish into my ear.

“Polly, Polly, Polly!”

I grabbed her arms to stop her from shaking me further. “What?” I hissed. In actuality, I was quite happy that Trucy was here. Sure, she might force me to do something I don’t want, like go on something very, very high, but at least it would give me something to do.

She gasped, taking in enough air to say what ever she wanted to say in one breathe, “There’sanewGavin’sconsert!!”

“Wha...?” The most I got out of that was ‘tear-a new Gavin saunter’ (tear as in to rip), which really doesn’t help me much seen as it makes absolutely no sense.

“Klavier. Concert. NOW!” she started pulling at my arm with incredible force that I didn’t think she possessed. Honestly, when she said that, I started crying. For one, it was ALWAYS too loud, second, my wallet was empty enough as is, and third, it is ALWAYS about Mr. Pretty Prosecutor (note the sarcasm). What about me? I have feelings too!

I tried to pry my arm from her grasp, but failed. Miserably. Because I tried to get away, Trucy tightened her death grip on my arm. I feared that my hand wasn’t getting enough blood. I also feared that she had ulterior motives. shudder

“You’re coming to the concert whether you like it or not,” Was it just me, or were her eyes red just then? I gulped nervously, dreading the painful noise soon to come. I was desperate to find something to do, but not that desperate. I did put up a fight, though. I now have scratch marks trailing from my living room all the way to the door. (Note to self: Get that fixed)

Upon arriving at our destination, I realized that there weren’t the usual fan girl mobs or annoyingly bright signs announcing the concert. There must be a God, I’m sure of it now.

“Was verdanke ich dieses Vergnügen, mein schönes?”

Trucy giggled, “Now, now. Flattery get’s you no where.” Did she know German? I straitened up, brushed the invisible dust off my clothes, and pulled my ‘horns’ up so they would remain spicky (sp?) I gave Trucy a glare. If looks could kill, even a butterfly would still be alive. That’s how pathetic I am. Klavier chuckled.

"In meinem Buch, kann es Sie überall erhalten," Trucy giggled again.

I gave a weak sigh, “Could we please stick to English? Not all of us speak twenty-four different languages.” Klavier chuckled again.

“Fine,” He gave me a smirk, “We’ll stick to English, Kirschblüte.” Either he was going the extra mile today to annoy me, or he didn’t realize that I could get very moody... I started glaring at him, like actually glaring at him. Maybe I could kill a yellow jacket now... “So... why did you decide to visit me, Herr Forehead?” Trucy was still giggling in the corner; hand over mouth, trying desperately to stifle them.

“The Froy-line dragged me here...”

“And why did Fräulein do that?”

“Actually, I’m beginning to wonder that myself,” Trucy turned her face and pretended that she was interested in the adds floating in the sky and started to whistle while twiddling her thumbs behind her back. Suspicious, very suspicious. Then her head snapped back and she gave me an innocent look, which, surprisingly, she pulled off. She pushed her finger into her right cheek and gave me a wide grin, then turned to Klavier.

“ Sie sind nicht gerade, sind Sie?” Surprisingly, Trucy was very fluent in German. Weird.

“Warum bitten Sie, Fräulein?” I could only wonder what they were talking about.

“Das ist ja?”

“Ich versuche bitte zu den weiblichen Massen, Fräulein.”

“Sie konnten bisexual sein...” I had stopped trying to guess what they were saying a while ago, wandered towards the large fountain in the centre of the square, and skimmed my hand over the water. I wonder what I should have for lunch... I could still faintly hear them talking, still in German. Quietly, I walked back to Trucy and tapped her on the shoulder.

“Hey, if this is all you needed me for, can I leave?” Trucy looked startled. It was like she had completely forgotten I was here.

“Uh...sure...?” She turned back to Klavier, “Bitte...?”

“I’ll think about it,” She puffed out her cheeks and went several shades of crimson in a few seconds, then, deflated.

“Why do you need to think about that?” I wonder why they had gone back to English... Was it for my sake? Wait...they sounded like a bickering couple... No...! Are they...? Nah. Not possible... I hope. (LOL! XD That’s not even CLOSE to what the pairing is)

Klavier titled his head to the side and nodded his head towards me. Trucy stared at me and looked back at him then shrugged. Klavier started to walk away.

I decided to say something, “Were you talking about me?”

Trucy grabbed my wrist and tugged on it painfully, “Want to get ice cream?” She had avoided my question altogether...

I pushed my feet off the ground just enough to give me a little air and continued to lick my vanilla cone.

“B i t t e . . .”

Trucy’s voice rebounded in my head, smothering any other thoughts that might bud. She had seemed so helpless, so lost, when she had said that... What could be so important for her to ask that one word with so much passion?

Ice cream started to drip down my hand and I lifted my arm up to lick it off. My eyes followed its trail up the side of the napkin onto the cone and finally back to the now-more-like-water substance. It had forged a trail for itself, sometimes with the help of other little vanilla droplets. Similar to the way we push on through life... I gave a weak chuckle. Now I was comparing vanilla ice cream to life? It seemed so surreal.

I licked the ice cream again, using my tongue as a spoon to capture large amounts of the frozen milk treat, and pushed my feet of the ground slightly so I wouldn’t catch too much air and lose the ice cream but could still feel it rush past me. I stared up at the dark blanket spread before me, little spots of silver stitched into it glittered like little ethereal diamonds. I sighed in contentment. After licking my fingers clean to remove any remains of my frozen treat, I jumped of the swing and sauntered home.

Ummmmmmm... Not much to say, really... Kinda boring... Don’t worry, it will get better XP el.oh.el Okay, anyone who speaks German? Yeah, I used a translator so I’m not sure if it says something similar to what I hope it says... Blame it on my computer if it’s wrong! People who don’t? The contents of it aren’t really important, BUT, I THINK ‘bitte’ means ‘please’. Note the THINK.

Reviews are my food. You don’t want me to starve now, do you?

Personal quote (I came up with it biggrin ):

“An author’s writing isn’t measured by how witty it is, or how intellectual it sounds, or how many people read it, but how much pride she takes in it.”