You Don't Know You The Way I Do- A Team Starkid Fanfiction

Well, the last chapter in this POV! I hope you guys love it, all of this romance has led to this. And just so you know, I'm planning (I may not get around to it, but it's the dream) to make this a trilogy. A TRILOGY OF FANFICTION! So you will get to know what happens when this book comes to a close in the sequel, then the book after that. The big finale. I'll promise not to kill off too many people.

I almost feel upset this part is ending. I like to think of Eli as myself, and who doesn't like writing smut about themselves with hot celebrities?

Here we go. Last time in this fanfiction.

CHAPTER 17; ELI'S POV:

I applied my red lipstick and fixed my teal dress that fell to my mid-thigh. I took a deep breath, thinking about Joe and mine's upcoming night. Reservations for the Aliena, which was one of the toughest restaurants in Chicago to get into, then Les Mis at his house with a sleepover.

I truly wasn't sure how far things were going to go tonight. I checked I had everything in my over-night bag, especially a condom, just in case he didn't have one. In my opinion, Joe and I were ready. It would be the ultimate show of love, and I was ready for it.

I slipped on my nude stilettos, opened the door, and jumped. There was a man, my height, his fist up about to knock on my door. He jumped back too, his face red.

It was Matt Lang.

I had never formally met him yet, and even though I had met and befriended the Starkids, I still had to swallow the urge to fangirl in front of him. He stared me up and down for a moment, looking at my dress, my curled hair, my intricate makeup.

He cleared his throat, very red-faced, shuffling about two hundred papers he carried in his arms. "Uh, Eli?"

"Yeah... Matt Lang?" I asked awkwardly, shaking his hand. I didn't know who seemed more embarrassed, me or him.

"You certainly look... beautiful," he croaked, causing me to blush even more. "I seem underdressed..." I chuckled awkwardly at his jeans and X-Men shirt. We exchanged an awkward silence, but he cleared his throat again. "Oh, um, so there's a reason I'm here. It looks like you're going out, but do you have a second to talk?"

"Uh, yeah, come in," I said, leading him onto my couch. He sat almost at the other end. For the umpteenth time, he cleared his throat.

"So, um, I wanted to talk to you about this," he said, addressing the papers in his hands. He lifted up the first page, which read in large letters, TEMPORIS: ELI KANESNE. He had the rough draft of the novel I was writing.

My hands flew up to my mouth, shocked. "Where did you get that?" I demanded.

Matt awkwardly scuffled his feet and said, "Well, there's this new show we're coming up with, ah, called Twisted. It's this play on Aladin, but in the point-of-view of Jafar. And we desperately needed a co-writer. And, even though I hated admitting help on this, I asked a few people if they knew anymore who was interested, including Joe. He suggested you, but we needed some sample works, so he said one day when he was hanging out here, he snuck to your room and e-mailed this copy to me."

I was horrified. "I'm gonna kill Joe... I'm gonna fucking murder him! That's unedited, not even completed, there's a ton of mistakes and plot holes and inconsistencies, and--"

"One of the best things I have ever read," he finished for me. My mouth gaped open, staring at him incredulously. It's one thing to have a random person say your rough draft it brilliant, but when it's Matt Lang... "I mean, you write with the complexity of John Green, yet with this action only Veronica Roth can convey... It's amazing. And I just don't say that about anything. Truly amazing."