"Hey, I gotta hop in the shower really quickly so if anyone needs to take a shit or something," Mason trailed off upon seeing all three of his roommates watching a movie in the living room. That was something that didn't happen very often.

"You're so vulgar," Paris announced as she stood from the couch. "But I do have to use the restroom so if you could give me a few minutes."

"Have at it," he stepped aside so she could walk past him before he moved to take her spot on the couch. "What are we watching?"

"Paris has apparently never seen any of the classics so we're binging all of them," Carly explained as she gestured to the television.

"By classics you mean all those cheesy fucking sitcoms, huh?" Mason concluded after recognizing the actress from Clueless on the screen. "And Josh is watching it too? Willingly?"

"Alicia Silverstone is hot okay," he defended.

"Can't fucking argue with you there man," Mason stated and Carly nodded her agreement.

A sudden silence descended upon the three as they continued watching the movie. They had just gotten to the awkward date in the film when Mason realized he had to have been sitting there for longer than a few minutes. "Jesus, what the hell is taking that girl so long?"

"She's probably making herself all pretty for that guy she's seeing," Josh absentmindedly responded with a glance in his direction.

"Shit," Mason drawled. "She's already seeing someone? She works fast." He had to admit that he was kind of surprised; he didn't necessarily see her as the type to even date at all, let alone so soon after moving in.

"Well it has already been a month - and considering the way she looks - someone was bound to ask her out at some point." Carly said it so nonchalantly that Mason barely even realized what was said until it actually registered.

"What do you mean by the way she looks? That seems rude as hell to say about someone," he chuckled.

"You of all people should know what I mean," she gave him a deadpan look. "She's got that whole if I step on you, you'll thank me for it vibe going on." She paused for a second to smirk at Mason. "And she's just fuck-hot."

"Huh," Mason shrugged. "Never really noticed." That was a fat fucking lie and he knew it.

"Never noticed what?" Paris finally reentered the room, luckily missing most of the earlier conversation. Or maybe not so luckily; it certainly would've made for an entertaining conversation, Mason thought to himself.

He silently took a moment to look over her appearance, trying to figure out if she had indeed prettied herself up for a date. She was still wearing the same yellow dress from earlier, a color that Mason didn't normally think was the most flattering but somehow suited her darker skin. Her dark hair was just as unruly as it always was (stray curls escaping the haphazard pony tail she always put it in) and she didn't seem to be wearing any more makeup than she usually did.

She looked the same physically, but there was a strange smirk on her face that Mason couldn't help but notice. Maybe she really was going on a date.

"Fucking finally," he groaned as he stood up. "What took you so long?"

"Guess you'll find out," she grinned cheekily.

What the hell did she mean by that?

~~~

Mason soon discovered what the hell she meant by that.

He was casually pouring his shampoo into the palm of his hand when he noticed the consistency and color seemed slightly different than usual. Not giving it a second thought, he stuck his fingers into his hair, realizing too late that it wasn't lathering. In fact, it was suspiciously sticky.

"What the fuck," he murmured as he pulled his hand out of his hair and rinsed it off under the shower spray. He twisted off the cap of his shampoo bottle, frowning at how clear it was. He could've sworn it had always been tinted a slight green. Except it didn't smell like his regular shampoo, it smelled much sweeter.

He tried rinsing out what was already in his hair, frustratedly turning off the water when it didn't seem to be coming off. He wrapped his towel around his hips, stepping out of the bathroom and into the hallway.

"Paris," he called out with an eye roll.

Said roommate's head poked around the corner, a sickeningly sweet smile on her face. "Yes? Is there something I can help you with?"

"Care to tell me what the fuck you put in my shampoo," he glared at her.

"Oh, is that all?" She raised a single eyebrow in his direction, head tilted in what felt like a taunting manner. "I thought it was something important." She disappeared back behind the wall, most likely moving to return to her spot on the couch.

Mason followed her form, trailing behind her with a glower on his face. "Woah dude; no one wants to see that," Josh exclaimed when Mason walked around the corner.

He instinctively tightened the towel on his waist, scowling at Paris. "Blame it on her, she's the one that put some weird shit in my shampoo." Mason gestured in Paris's direction who shrugged with a petty ass smile when everyone turned to look at her.

"He deserved it," she said simply.

He hated how effortlessly diabolical she was; she said everything as though it were fact, making it more difficult to disagree with her. Hell, Mason wanted to say he agreed even though he clearly didn't. Sure he might have teased her a bit but that was just who he was, he didn't think it warranted this.

"She has a point," Carly noted with a thoughtful expression.

"Sure she fucking does," Mason stated sarcastically. "I just want to know why my hair feels like it was dipped in syrup. It's driving me insane," he absentmindedly ran his fingers through his hair, grimacing at how they stuck to his scalp.

"Relax," Paris rolled her eyes. "It's just corn syrup."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" If it was, it was doing a terrible fucking job at it.

She looked deceptively harmless as her smile grew, "Did it not?"

"If by better you mean significantly more fucking annoyed, then yes it definitely did."

"Just be glad you don't condition your hair first, that one has raw eggs in it," she giggled.

Paris was pure fucking evil.

"You were gonna let me put raw eggs into my hair? That's nasty as hell," he shuddered at just the thought.

"Apparently it's actually really moisturizing, so really I was doing you a favor. Terrible that you won't be able to use it now," she sighed with disappointment. Mason couldn't tell if she was genuinely upset or not; it was really disconcerting.

"At least tell me you saved it in a different container or some shit. Those were fucking expensive bottles." It would be a big fucking waste if she hadn't considering he had bought them less than a month ago.

"Of course I did," she rolled her eyes once more, "I'm not a complete heathen."

"I beg to differ," Mason muttered to himself.

~~~

"Hey Mason," he stifled a laugh at the sound of Paris's voice, already knowing full well where this was going.

It had been a few days since the shampoo and conditioner incident, and Mason made sure he let it sit for long enough for Paris to think she was in the clear. He was looking forward to seeing the reaction of his so-called fuck-hot roommate.

"What's up?" Perfectly playing the role of innocence, he craned his neck to see her glowering behind his desk chair. He had been sitting at his desk for the past ten minutes, barely making it back into his own room before she came home to witness his carefully laid out prank.

"What's wrong?" Oh he was enjoying this far too fucking much.

"Any idea why or how my bed is wrapped in tin foil?" She crossed her arms across her chest, and he heard the distinct sound of her high-heeled shoes tapping the hardwood floor.

"I have no idea," he smirked, "But that's really fucking funny. Whoever did that sure is a hilarious person I bet; the life of the party even." He turned to fully look at her, gracing her glaring features with a smug grin.

Her hair was mussed, lips pursed and shoulders tense as she stared down at him. She was wearing another dress, this one more form-fitting and not something he would usually see her in. But somehow - even while mad - she appeared as dignified as ever. He wondered what that was like; to feel anger but still be able to express it so elegantly.

"I think they're quite the opposite actually," he could almost see the irritation in her features. This was fun as hell. "Who in their right mind would do that to a person's bed knowing they have to be asleep in less than an hour?"

Mason would. He had specifically made sure to wait until the very possible last minute to set it up, knowing it would be much more annoying to take it off at the end of the night rather than the early afternoon.

His assumption was correct judging by the evil eye Paris was currently giving him.

"Oh come on, it's just tin-foil," he mimicked.

~~~