School was in session, and I was about to head into class when I heard a ring from my locker. Annoyed, I opened the locker and picked up the phone. I glanced at the caller with a sigh.

The Master, "Hello?" I said dryly. I didn't have my phone on me 24/7, yet someone always seemed to point me its way whenever I got a call from him.

"Come here."

I rolled my eyes. "Where is "here", exactly? Your office?" I asked. How did I get this odd man as a principal, of all things? My second middle school experience and suddenly I became the "New" principal's "minion".

"No, of course not," He denied, even though that was usually where he was, "I'm at the McDonald's next to the school. Do be quick, I have a shake and I don't want it to melt."

I hung up and walked into class, expression blank, "My duties as the Master's minion require me to be out of class. I may be late," I deadpanned to the teacher, jogging out of the room. I sprinted to the McDonald's, knowing if his shake melted before I got there I'd get in trouble.

Not that I cared for getting in trouble, it just usually meant an "In School Suspension", also known as the Master's field day with using me as an all-day assistant. Which I'd rather not have.

When I got there, I took a moment to catch my breath before walking in. Looking around, I saw him waiting impatiently by the serving area, foot tapping irratically as he guarded a meal too big for one person to carry. I sighed. Great, I wondered who he would woo this time.

"There you are! You took forever!" He complained, shoving food and drink into my arms. I carefully balanced it, the eight drinks each in coasters balancing on my arms and the two big bags of food gently set against my chest. Of course he'd not carry a single item. Why would he? He had his minion, I thought dryly.

I couldn't wait for middle school to end, and me to be free of his odd dictatoresque rule over the entire schooling system. The middle school was too far away from the high school for me as a minion to be any use, which would then cause him to have to get a new kid to force to do his bidding. I was looking forward to it. I just wanted to go through this life calmly.

I was also looking forward to getting a job once I turned thirteen again. Again. I mused over that as I walked to his car and carefully opened the door. As a time traveler, I expected everything to be the same, but...

"Well? Get in," He snapped impatiently from the driver's seat. I awkwardly got in, making sure nothing was spilt, and carefully arranged the items on my lap. I continued my thoughts absently as I made sure the drinks would be safe and the food uncrushed. But nothing really was. I mean, of course, everything that I changed wasn't, obviously, but even small factors, like the eye color of my adoptive mother was different. The shade of the sky was a tad darker than it was before I went back.

Did I end up travelling through dimensions into a parallel universe instead? It really seemed that way sometimes, except nothing big happened. It wasn't like Doctor Who showed, where one small change made one giant difference. No, it wasn't like "Back to the Future", where something simple like stepping on a butterfly would change everything irrevocably down the line, either.

The stock market was the same, the not-so-local Walmart had the exact same shit in it. The shows were the same, besides a few that were missing, oddly enough. The sun was there. In fact, the only big difference, which wasn't all that big, really, was the man sitting next to me. I looked over curiously to see the man once more. He... Was interesting, really. When I first saw him, I started calling him the Master immediately due to his attitude. He didn't seem to mind, having given up on changing my nickname for him about a month into making me his minion.

That nickname was also kind of my fault. He gave me it after he gave up on me calling him anything except the Master. He figured instead of calling me "Assistant", he'd call me "Minion" because of my nickname for him. At my disgruntled look he immediately switched to using it. Honestly that's why I had continued using his nickname, too, so I couldn't blame him.

The car slowed to a stop, and I looked around only to sigh. No wonder he let me ride with him. This wasn't the school at all.

"Minion, give me the Coke," He said casually, glaring at the red stoplight like it'd change faster if he did.

"Which one is that?" I muttered, looking at the five different dark-colored sodas.

"Two of them are Pepsi, one is Dr. Pepper, and the other two are Coca-Cola. Don't give me the wrong one," He ordered.

I glanced at each lid. One had "P" indented, and two had a different indentation. The other two had nothing. I looked for the odd two out, and saw that the two that weren't indented were from a different fast food. Why... Did he bring them in the McDonald's, then?

"Here," I said, only to roll my eyes as he drank instead of picking up the damned cup, "Hold it or your pants will."

"Fiesty," He muttered absently as he took the cup and shoved it into a cupholder. I shook my head and glanced out the window. He was thinking rather hard, and I wondered what he was thinking about. Despite his odd behaviours and assholic demeanor, he was quite intelligent. Was he planning on how best to take over the world? Or maybe thinking about building some odd contraption? Mayhaps he was thinking about what was to come?

I was pulled out of my thoughts by his words, "A time machine... That could truly change the world."

My arms froze where they were laying, and I glanced over at him, "Yes," I'd not recommend, due to unforseen circumstances such as being forced into your younger body, because two of the same person can't exist at once, apparently.

"Of course, people might find your research and use it for their own if you leave it like that. Like the government. Then, since it's a capitalist government we live in, they'd sell its uses to the rich as long as the rich promised to find whoever built it," He continued, making me focus entirely on him in suspicion, "Then BAM, Time Agents become a thing. What would you do if you went back in time?"

I continued observing him carefully for a moment, before shrugging casually, "I dunno. I'd not know where to start when building a time machine, and I'm not rich."

"But if you did make a time machine and go back, what would you do?" He insisted.

"What would you do?" I countered.

"Ah, I'd be a bystander who realized that time and space was being messed with, and come in from another universe to check out who invented time and space travel in this universe," He denied.

"... So done with your bullshit," I muttered to myself, shaking my head. He laughed even as I put my foot on the dashboard to keep myself and the drinks steady at the sudden break.

The Master pouted, "Awe, I was hoping I'd get to see you soaked in soda and covered in food. Too bad."

I glared at him, "Where are we going?"

"My house, of course," He said, as if that were the obvious answer. It was most certainly not, and I gave him a wary look.

"... Right. Hosting a party when you should be at work?" I asked slowly.

"Nope. Just us."

"Do you cook?" I asked incredulously.

He gave me a confused look, before glancing back at the road and swerving, barely missing getting both of us killed. I rolled my eyes, carefully readjusting the drinks and food.

"Yes, why?"

I'm silent, just staring at him in confusion. He glanced at me a few times before rolling his eyes and focusing on the road. But... Then why'd he buy all this food? If he wasn't going to save it, if there were no party... He didn't do this just to try and get me covered in food and drink, did he? Why would he do that? No, it had to be something else. He may be insane, and rich, and most confusedly a principal of a middle school, but he wasn't stupid.

"Pictures last longer than memories," He mused.

"I think I'd rather face the corruption of a memory than the lack of one," I replied without thinking, "But I'll keep it in mind."

I continued looking at him, this time just observing him. Sharp cheekbones, almost hallow cheeks, a glint in his almost black brown eyes, and brown hair done up in a dreadfully boring style for someone with as much personality as the man before me. He was, admittedly, looking like a well-off man with his constant suit-and-tie wearing habits. Truly, I was almost convinced that this man would be famous in another life, but... He most certainly wasn't an actor here, though.

Hesitating, I thought on my memories from my previous life. I... Had created a time machine in my down time, not really paying much attention to logic when I created it, just making it as a side-hobby. When it was time to charge it, I had just used one of the main powerplants of America along with a few hundred of some of the world's largest batteries, all gotten very much illegally. It shouldn't have worked, really. It should've just blown up with the force of three nuclear explosions, since it dived into quantum physics a bit and, honestly, the best case scenario should've been it doing nothing and me getting arrested for theft of various things, including electricity. When I watched as my older self vaporised before me, electricity running from that body to this one... I was surprised. I had actually gone back in time. Or, rather, to a parallel universe, apparently, unless someone found my machine and managed to use it to irrevocably change my adoptive mother's eye color for whatever reason.

"What's all this food for, then?" I asked, forcing my thoughts away from where they had led me.

"Oh, that?" He glanced over, scrunching his nose at the amounts of food, "I don't like McDonald's."

"Then why did you buy it?" I demanded, feeling like I made a great mistake in words. I did not want to know, at all.

"The fryer insulted me. So I ordered ten large fries while it was busy to make his job harder."

"And the drinks?"

"Well, I made all of them meals, of course."

I shook my head, leaning my head against the headrest as I looked outside. I set the bags of food on the floor of the car to make it easier to carry the drinks.

"Great. Why'd you go to McDonald's in the first place?" I asked monotone.

"Again, the fryer insulted me."

"So... You got insulted by a person, and you figured out where they worked so you could inconvenience them?"

"Precisely, my dear minion."

"I hate this," I muttered under my breath as I watched everything fly by. My stomach twisted into knots at the prospect of food, but I frowned and ignored it.

I hadn't eaten in days, and I was going to keep it that way. This body was too weak as it was, and showing it some good old hunger would go a long way in hardening the endurance it could take on a full stomach. Or, well, I got tired of eating and decided not to unless necessary. Maybe I'd find a good nutrience bar and eat that for the rest of eternity.

"So," The Master started sharply, "Why are you always so professional? Even I'm not that professional at times."

"... I'm not," I said dryly, shaking my head.

Where'd that come from? Sure, I kept my tone even around most everyone except the one friend I managed to make, but that wasn't me being professional. I supposed my posture and clothing? Surely not, my clothing was at best a bit done up, but that was only due to me having black, grey, and white clothes only that I helped shop for. It wasn't professional, just casual nice jeans, typical running shoes, a long-sleeved nice white, grey, or black shirt, and an undone button-up for outerwear.

"Come on, don't play coy, the borderline pleasant tones with everyone and thing, the calmness you practically exude, the posture and clothing. That's professional! You can't say you aren't when you act that way all the time."

"... The people who know me would beg to differ, and I presumed you to be one of those people? I'm not professional, serious," I denied.

"Right, you swearing at me in that tone? That's disrespectful, but it still screams PROFESSIONAL!" He yelled. I winced at the volume of the shout, and rubbed my left ear. Maybe I could call him Master Moriarty? He seems to have a similar personality to the criminally insane mastermind, at least.

"Cool," I said dryly, "I'm just a boring asshole. That's not professional, it's no-fucks-had given form."

"... Hmmm, you see, for other's I'd believe that. But you aren't like others. You do whatever I say, with little to no reason. When I assigned you as a minion I expected you to complain my ear off, or just not do any ridiculous thing I said."

I tilted my head, before shaking it and shrugging, "I could explain my motives, but I don't think you'd understand them."

"Then-" He paused as my stomach made a truly grotesque sound. I ignored it.

"Then...?" I inquired.

"When was the last time you'd eaten?" He demanded in a non-sequitur.

"That... Is of no concern," I said after a moment's thought, "Why, pray tell, are we going to your home instead of the school, where both of us should rightfully be?"

"No no no, you don't get to do that," He refused, "You're my minion, not the other way around. If I ask a question you answer it truthfully."

"Of which I did," I muttered, shaking my head.

I barely managed to keep from flying out the windshield as he stopped in the middle of a crossroad, others barely keeping from smashing into the car. He sat there patiently, and I glared at him.

"What the hell are you doing?" I hissed, "Get moving before you get a ticket!"

He looked at me, "There goes the professionalism. I should do this more often."

"No, you shouldn't," I snapped, "Get moving. Now. Don't be an idiot."

The Master shook his head, crossing his arms even as horns blared.

"I'm not moving until you tell me when you last ate."

"..." I sighed, thinking. I stopped eating on the seventh... What day was it today? That wouldn't look good. "I can't remember."

"Ahah, you remember things not even I can remember. Tell me."

"I had breakfast today," I lied, "Happy? Go."

"I'm not happy, actually," The Master replied casually, taking a long drink from his soda as I looked around. People were going around us, still honking, "Since that was a lie."

"No, it wasn't," I lied, voice sounding with a patience I didn't have, "I made myself eggs and had an egg-and-toast sandwhich. Now can we go? Before you get in trouble?"

He rolled his eyes, but continued driving after a moment of looking at me, unimpressed. I frowned, looking out the window even as my heart beat erratically. Why did I care? Easy, because one, we almost died in his move, and two, if he found out he'd probably do something even more stupid. Like make me eat the taint that was the plain McChicken with extra macsauce that he got many times over for literally no reason.

We slowed to a stop in a residential area, between houses. I blinked, were none of these his house? Jesus, this was the longest car-ride ever. If the longest car ride ever was shorter than five minutes, that is.

"Tell me the truth, or I'll keep you here until dark."

I rolled my eyes, "I have legs. I can walk," I muttered, "You're being ridiculous, I'm going back to school."

The doors locked, and I gave the locking mechanism an incredulous glare. It... It was filed down. I couldn't get out this way, and this side's automatic unlocking feature had been broken for as long as I remember. I gave the Master a glare, crossing my arms as my stomach growled.

"The seventh. The last thing I ate was the nacho grandes from school."

"Why?"

"No particular reason. Don't feel like it," I answered with a shrug, exasperated, "Can we get on with it so that whatever you're doing is done before midnight?"

"You aren't dieting, are you?"

"No, the proper term is fasting, and no, I'm not doing it to get thinner. I'd just work out if I wanted to," I mused as the car continued on, swinging into a driveway not three houses down. Huh.

"I don't care what you do outside of my rule, but you'll be honest with me from here on out," He demanded.

I rolled my eyes and stayed silent, merely following him as he went inside. I set the drinks and food down absently as I looked around. Jesus, how rich was he? This was a nice ass house for one person, and I don't think, with what he does at school, that he has a wife or kids. I paused, just glancing at the Master, who was walking calmly towards me after setting his keys down. He kind of is a whore, isn't he? Anyone unattached, and even some teachers that were attached all had lain with him at least once. Not that I really had heavy evidence or anything, but with how they all walked out of his office with hair mussed and clothes rumpled and askew all looking... Well. Yes, there was no way he wasn't a manwhore. I blinked up at his unamused look as he paused in front of me. He couldn't hear my thoughts, could he?

Wincing as I was shoved against a nice peach wall by the neck, not bothering to raise my hands, knowing I was unable to fight back. Unable to breath for a moment, tears swim in my eyes before I blink them away, glaring up at the Master. How inconvenient of him.

"Maybe I didn't make myself clear. I can accept that, everyone makes mistakes," He said genially, relaxing his grip so I could breathe but still holding my neck tight enough that I couldn't move. Alas, he genuinely was a dangerous man, wasn't he? "You. Will. Be. Honest. With. Me."

I rolled my eyes only to soundlessly yell as I couldn't breathe. My vision started blurring and my hands reached up to grasp around his wrist and thumb, respectively. When he relaxed his grip so I could breathe the only thing keeping me standing was his ironclad handling of my neck.

"Sorry, didn't quite hear you there," He said casually, tone hinting at danger, as if I weren't already in it. Not that I was scared. I started a machine willingly with the belief that I'd be ripped apart into various different pieces, he was more of an annoying threat than anything to fear.

"Yes," I said flatly, voice hoarse.

"Yes...?" He trailed off leadingly, eyes looking into mine. He didn't look particularly angry. No, he looked normal, like this was an every day occurance for him. I wasn't afraid, I knew he'd not kill me, though my own logic was doubting the conviction I had towards that. Admittedly repeating that I wasn't scared multiple times made me think that perhaps I was. Maybe.

"Yes, Master, I'll be honest from here on out," I rasped, falling to the floor when he released me. I let myself sit there until I caught my breath. The lines of the dark wooden flooring swimming in and out of my vision. Fuck. That just happened. Fuck I hope that doesn't become a kink when I grow up, because that was vaguely unpleasant, but not unpleasant enough for my fear to be unfounded. I need a hobby, maybe. I'll pick up sewing again or something. Maybe stitch an image of the Master? That'd count as a hobby.

"Get up and throw the food away, then sweep and mop my floors," He ordered.

"I'm not your slave, dick," I countered, stumbling to a stand and picking up the food. I took it outside to the trash can and threw it out, before wandering back in, going to the bathroom, and throwing up water and stomach acid. Ow. I coughed out whatever was left when I finished and drank from the faucet, gurgling and spitting out the remains. Fuck me, I guess. I didn't feel too well. Would... I even make it to the end of the day without passing out?

When I wandered out, not seeing the Master anywhere, I started looking for the broom and mop. Not finding it, I look for the Master. He was in the shower. Great. Wandering around, looking for the supplies needed some more, I frowned as I glanced around, seeing the walls warp and blur. Feeling like I couldn't get enough oxygen, I stumbled to my knees only for everything to go black. Looks like the answer was a resounding no.

How sad.