Disclaimer: HEY! GUESS WHAT! TIME FOR A CHANGE OF SCENE! Absolutely all of the characters in this fic are mine. Mine, mine, mine. But I guess I should do the disclaimer the movies always use: The characters in this fic are absolutely fictional, and if they resemble anyone or anything in real life, it is absolutely unintentional. So don't sue me for it.

~Fic Starts Here~

Have you ever noticed how many different types of mouths there are? I mean, seriously. There's thin, thick, fishy, smiley, pouty, rosebud, pale, dark, chapped, smooth-the list goes on forever. It is my Theory of Human Behavior and Character that a person's nature can be entirely revealed by their mouth and how they wear/use it. Sounds screwy? Well, try it yourself. Picture these lips: hot, fluorescent magenta lipstick, so thickly put on it seems to resemble pancakes (as in layers), lipstick out of line, teeth slightly yellow, and all contorted into a smile that once may have been winning, but is now so wide it resembles a perpetual jack-o-lantern. Um .think you can guess what type of person that is? How about desperate, coffee-addicted, housewife with a serious longing for sexiness? Like, duh. Come to think of it, I have several teachers like that .but that's not the point. The point is that I, or anyone else who takes the time to look, can tell immediately what type of person anyone else is by looking at the general area around their mastication apparatus (an: that means general area around their teeth-just thought I ought to put some intellectual thingies in a fic for once ;p)

So .Yeah. I know what you're thinking. Why did I start out with that almost completely boring paragraph? Answer: To show you even more the difference between me and my sister. Hehe. You thought it was to be all cliché, and "take you deeper into my soul." Hehehe-NO. Not that cliché. But I know what else you're thinking. Who's the big loser who's talking here? Well, let's see.

My name is Christiana Coburks, Christie for short. But I'm more commonly known as Nattalie Coburks' baby sister. Not that I WANT to be called something like that, but there are just some things in life that you can't change. Nicknames having to do with your family members are one of them. It's the type of thing you never can do away with. But truly. I see no way how they resemble us like that. I mean, get real. My sister's got a great mouth-smiley, so even when she's bored, she looks like she's smiling. Her lips are really smooth-so un-chapped she doesn't need lipstick. But she wars it anyways-it makes her mouth look even greater. She's got pure, white, even teeth. And she can wear absolutely any type of lipstick and still look good.

And then there's me. First things first, I am not smiley. I have a severely pouty mouth. Even when I was little, I hated smiling for pictures and plays. It made me feel fake. And it made my jaws ache. (an: rhyme not intended.) I was constantly asked why I was so sad. And that was when I was happy. When I was sad, I was sent to the school nurse for depression- like syndromes.

My mouth is quite more pathetic than my sister's. My teeth currently reside in braces. And lipstick? Well. First I tried pinks. That made me look like a preppy dweeb. Then I tried shimmery. That made me look like a Limited Too dweeb. Then I tried browns. Which made me look like a wanna- be-older dweeb. Finally, I tried crimsons. That made me look like a Countess Dracula dweeb. Seriously. See, I have really pale skin and straight black hair. And I wear black. People kept asking me if I worked in a blood bank. And little kids ran away from me. But not Nattalie. Nope. She's got wavy, burnished gold hair and a pale rose complexion. So SHE wore crimson and boys cooed things like "Nattalie is the key to my heart" and "ooh baby, lay those lips on me". The poetic ones said things like, "a rose has not the crimson beauty of your lips". Of course Nattalie conveniently FORGOT to tell them it was lipstick, but STILL. It's much better than "I know I look yummy, but please don't chomp my neck". Seriously. I currently wear shiny clear, and I'm trying to decide if it makes me look like a slobbery dweeb.

Yeah. Nattalie's pretty much the perfect one. Good grades, good at sports, good acting skills, popular, you name it. Her boyfriend is three years older, and no one says anything because she's so damn pretty. Seriously. She's like day, and I'm like night. It gets rather depressing sometimes.


AN: My muse just got back from her holiday break. Don't rush me. She probably has jet lag or something. And thanks for all the people who I KNOW (*wish, wish*) are gonna review this original fic. Please? Please review? Maybe if I started posting all the names of my reviewers on the next chapters, I would get more. Would I? Email me. Or review me. I really need some input. PLEASE? OK, I'll stop now. Just review me.