METHLETES [#Wattys2015]

[Prologue]

(gif above is Crystal XD)

"You made me drop my fucking ice cream!"

I pant in rage, pointing at the two uniformed officers, then down at the large tub of ice cream which has created a rather artistic splatter on the floor.

"Uh... right," one of them says, clearing his throat.

The man on his left stares down at the result of the dessert massacre silently. His face could not look any more impassive.

"What are you guys doing here anyway?"

"Kid, if you don't mind, we need to do a quick search around your house."

I was just about to protest when the man pushes the door behind me wider, and walks inside straight away. His partner joins him seconds after, but takes a moment to stare at the ice cream tub. He shakes his head, placing a heavy hand on my shoulder.

"Sorry for your loss, kid."

"Wh... what?" I stutter, flicking his arm away.

He thankfully gets the message, breaking the awkward physical contact.

"You know, I never said I didn't mind you searching my house!" I shout, rushing over to police officer number one.

He raises an eyebrow, then cocks his head to the direction of my room. "Sorry kid, I'm just doing my job."

"Huh?"

I could feel my hormones send a stream of adrenaline coursing through my body. To add more drama to the scene, the officer stares at me, boring his dark brown eyes into my green ones. Boy, they were dark indeed.

"Look, if you want to enter... j-just..."

If my heart could burst out of my chest like in one of those cartoons, it would've taken off and ran quicker than Usain Bolt. Out of everything wrong and unnerving about this scene, I couldn't decide what I'm more nervous about; the fact that I'm currently being searched for an unknown reason - hopefully a non-existent reason, or the fact that the police officer happens to be a doppelganger of Dave Franco.

Dave. Franco.

"Are you... Dave Franco?" I blurt out, standing in front of the door defensively.

"Look kid, I know I'm very attractive. I get that a lot, you know. People telling me I'm a copy of Dave Franco and all that. In fact, I'm thinking of ditching this job and settling as an actor instead."

Oh God, why did he have to smirk.

Now I really hope he keeps talking about his dream to be an actor, because I have about 3 human-sized posters of his celebrity look-alike behind the door I am currently blocking.

"But it'd be confusing, wouldn't it kid? I mean, what if we both play in the same movie?"

I nod, prying my eyes from his face.

Maybe if I just looked at...

Shit, those toned arms.

"Kid, I know you're stalling. But you really seem like a sweet girl. Now, if you could just prove that you really don't have 2 ounces of meth with you, then my partner and I will take you for ice cream. My treat. Now-"

"Meth? What the fuck do you mean by meth?"

"Yes, meth kid. We're narcotic officers, not math teachers. Now step aside, kid."

Without any further warning, he whoops and sends a violent kick to the door; so violent that it left a hole instead of swinging open like it should in movies.

"Uh... about the door..."

I don't care if it really is Dave Franco himself.

No one,

And I mean no one,

Messes with me on Baskin Fridays - the one day I could eat as many tubs of ice cream I want. And I didn't wait for one entire month for this to happen.

"Dude, the door wasn't even locked! And for fuck's sake, stop calling me kid! I'm fucking 16!" I shout, positive that my entire neighborhood must've heard me by now.

Officer number two gives no more than a shrug as a response when I avert my glare to him. I train my focus on him long enough to see him pull a walkie talkie from the back of his pants.

"Please... just... hurry things up?"

He nods guiltily and pushes the door handle.

Why would they search my house for the last thing I'd even come near? I don't even know how meth looks like. Even if I ever did want any of that stuff, I don't know where I'm supposed to find it.

"Wow, you sure are a fan of - holy shit."

"What, what?"

Do I hear sirens?

"Frank, c'mere!"

Officer number two - Frank - and I run into the room.

"Holy..." I trail off.

"Shit," Dave's doppelganger finishes for me, lifting a medium-sized ziplock bag filled with rock sugar on my nightstand.

"What? The ice cream man asked if I needed any sugar at home, then he-"

"Save it for the court, kid. Kiss your ice cream and posters good bye, you're going to juvy."

"For the last time- what?"

My mouth falls open, creating a hole large enough for Alice to crawl into Wonderland.

"Well, tell you what kid. We'll finish the movie playing in your living room, eat some more ice cream, then go. Okay?"

I sigh, leaning against the nearest wall to me for support, otherwise I'd pass out and collapse onto the cold, ceramic floor.

How am I supposed to go to Harvard now?

"Can I... at least take a selfie with you and tell people you're Dave Franco?"

A/N:

HAHA I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT I'M DOING, I THINK I'M LITERALLY HIGH ON METH OR SOMETHING.

Nah, kidding. I don't actually do meth, but the idea just suddenly came to me. I've been watching Skins lately, and the show somehow inspires me to write this story. Yes, there's going to be a truckload of swearing, so if you hate that kind of stuff, then either deal with it and read on, or stop while you still can.

This is my first go at writing something like this, so I hope I didn't do too bad. This is only the prologue so I didn't add too many thorough descriptions, but I will be more descriptive from this point on (hopefully). Please vote and comment if you enjoyed, vote and comment if you don't anyway. Kidding, but seriously.