Upper Brookfield

Ryan Chaffon. Sure, she knew the guy, the damned bastard, but Vi never actually caught him in the act of anything technically bad. The worst he ever did to her, at least, was call her out for being an outside, and that she didn't belong there. It was pretty hard to avoid the stares of everyone, back then, but when rumors propped up of her fists of fucking justice, well, his taunts stopped. Now she felt as if she should have dealt with him before he had the chance to even bother with Briton in the first place. She imagined it- knocking him down with a swift jab to the leg, kicking him hard in the teeth, maybe breaking his goddamned snide little 'I'm so awesome' smirk of his. How good it'd feel to bury her small fists into his body, his side, his chest, and to hear his little squeals for mercy and forgiveness. Vi clenched down on her fist harder, red marks even more prominent. Her leg even twitched as she fantasized on how the beat down would go.

Now, Rockford. He was an even bigger priority than Chaffon was. For some reason, Briton specifically said to take him down, and well, that must mean he did something incredibly terrible. What could it be? Something worse than a physical attack, that's for sure. Murder? But that's obviously not it, right? Damnit, Briton's still alive, obviously. So it can't be that. It might be something sexual, but then again, Vi was pretty sure Rockford, the scant little she saw of him; she was almost certain he was straight. The alpha male type. So he'd have nothing to gain from a sexual assault on Briton, would he? She frowned bitterly as she forced her mind to not worry about the 'what' and focus on how to laud revenge. Rockford was pretty damn big, so she'd need some aid for wiping him out, wouldn't she? Maybe bashing him over the head with a bat, onto the ground, and breaking his leg as a warning. Would that be enough for him to back off? If not, it'd at least be enough to keep him out of commission for a while. A nice long while.

Vi didn't even realize she was in the backseat of Amber's car again until they had already closed the door and started moving towards Lacey's house for a nice closet raid. Lacey's parents made it pretty clear to her that they didn't like the outsider's influence on their perfect daughter, and Violet figured stubbornly that they weren't worth a rat's ass. Lace was too cool for parents like that, and hell, Lace was basically flawless. Wicked smart, obviously beautiful, and pretty damn awesome to hang around with. No room for error, right?

"Damnit." Vi said to herself, a heel realization. "Forgot to say bye to Nate."

Her gaze went lazily out the window, reminiscent of how it did when she was still in that brain melting math class. She was oddly reminded of Oz, for no apparent reason. Why hadn't he said anything to anyone about what he saw? Damnit, didn't he see her get dropped off after Rope Guy was done with her? And he didn't even try to comfort him like any friend should have. and yet, Oz still had the gall to look hurt every time Vi tried to avoid being alone with him. She didn't want to deal with this shit. It confused her and even now, she didn't know exactly how to confront what happened and get over it.

She also wondered. Her friends are seriously awesome, all of them. Hanging out even with the crazy hyperactive girl, and actually accepting her, for pretty much everything. It was lucky enough that Nate was the type to overlook her 'outsider'ness, but the others too? Of course, they didn't know about the fights. And, well, what if they did know? Would it still be the same? Would they still accept her as one of them; would Vi still have her place of belonging? Or would it be just like before, where all she could really do was act out and confirm their suspicions by proving she was just a no good, trouble maker.

Gotta figure this out, before I ask Brit.

"So. I'm just wondering," Vi started, trying to keep a neutral, tough vibe. "Let's say, uh. Girl A hated it when bad shit happened. And she wondered why no one tried to do anything 'bout it, right? So she ended up trying to take out the bad people to stop bad shit from happening at all... is, is that something that's okay? Is Girl A bad cuz of that?"

She was, obviously, talking about herself and her own penchant for violence. Would the others realize that it was her she was asking about? The blood had been rubbed into her sleeve on the inside, so it shouldn't be noticeable anymore, at the very least. She let out a sigh as she hid the nervous shaking of her legs as best as she could; needing some sort of indirect support but not wanting to outright ask for it. No way she'd let anyone think less of the tough girl persona.

Bringing my eyes back down to earth, I look to Oz, who had just walked up beside to me to ask what it is that I wanted to talk about. Giving him a slight nod, I placed my hands in my pockets and started walking ahead. I figured that Oz must be tired from his initial walk to the diner, so walking all the way back to school would be too much of a pain. Instead, I figured on heading over to my place, since it was closer. About half the distance to the school, in fact. Oz was following along side me, still waiting for my answer to his question. Before I would answer that, however, I thought it would be a good idea to let the man know where we were headed.

"We'll hang out at my place until the party, since you don't seem like you're up for a trip back to school." I said, giving him a humorous smile as I hunched my back and looked at him from the side. Looking back ahead, my smile dropped slightly. "I wanna talk about Briton's current problem." I admitted. Pausing for a moment to think about what I was going to say, I continued. "I know I haven't been very...involved...with everyone lately, but... I still care, y'know? If someone is hurting Briton, I wanna do something about it." I realized that I didn't really have the right to intrude like I was, and it was because of my own doing, but I had to do something now that it was apparent that one of my friends was in trouble. And in the end, I always came back for my friends... Always.

Stopping mid-walk, I turn to Oz, still hunched over with my head tilted a bit. I'm looking him in the eye while holding a rather troubled expression. I wanted him to know that I was still his friend; that I still gave a damn, even if I was choosing to be so distant from everyone. I wanted him to see this, because I couldn't tell him... Not without having to say why...

"What do you think? I mean, we've all known how much Briton gets teased-- since even before high school, but it was never this bad..." I said, scowling down at the concrete sidewalk as I spoke. "If it's gotten bad enough to the point of drawing blood, then we need to stop it before it gets even worse... And then there's that Rockford guy. The hell did he do to Briton?" I paused, bringing a hand to my chin as I began thinking about what I had already figured on back at the diner. Whatever Rockford did, it had to be bad enough for Briton personally, for it to take priority over some thug who gave him bloody knees... Blackmail? Over what...? Hm, maybe it was about public humiliation after all, only Rockford hasn't acted on it just yet. He's merely been holding the idea over Briton's head... If that's the case, then I'm sure I know what the source is. Briton's secret has been the same every cycle, but it's not known to anyone in this lifetime, so he guards it heavily. If it ever got out, he'd likely die from embarrassment and anxiety... And I'm not speaking figuratively, either. I've seen the results of how overwhelming those feelings can be, and it's never pretty...

It wasn't until I was snapped back to reality that I realized I had been lost in thought all this time. Apologizing to Oz, who I gave a wry smile, I began walking forward once again. My house wasn't far now, and I'm sure Oz was eager to put the conversation to rest for now. He was an amazing friend, but that very reason often made him too mindful of others' privacy. It was very admirable, but sometimes you needed to pry a little in order to help out a friend. And it was very rare to see any of us other than Amber or Violet do something like that-- least of all Oscar Glass... Of course, that coming from me makes me sound like a total hypocrite, but... I don't mind dawning the title if it means that I can help them in the end. It was no longer about keeping up the regular two-way street between friends. Not since I ruined all their futures... It was now simply about me finding a way to fix it for them, without worrying them before they needed to. And the easiest way to go about doing that was to be very unfair... I've never been angry or upset with any of them for trying to pry into my life because it's expected and understandable. That being said, I couldn't tell them everything... Not just yet. It would be too obstructive towards my goal if they found out too soon. It hurt, lying to them each cycle, but it was necessary... For now...

After a short walk, we reached the steps of my house, my mother's fluffy little Volpino coming out to greet us. She nipped at Oscar's pant-legs, giving little hops at him. She was always excited to see new company, and she hadn't seen Oz in quite a while. "Hey there, Mitzy." I said, kneeling down to pet her. Mitzy gave my hand a gentle nibble before going back to circling Oz. "Guess she really misses you." I laugh and say this as I look up at Oz before standing back up and heading towards my front door. Mitzy was in before I even opened it, however, obviously hyper. Once inside, I motioned for Oz to go ahead and throw his backpack on the floor next to all the shoes and the coat rack. "Ma, I'm home!" I yelled down the hall as I sat down on the inner step to take off my shoes.

A few seconds after announcing my return, my mother appeared in the hall with a smile, which quickly widened upon seeing my taller friend. She, too, hadn't seen Oscar in quite some time...

"Oscar!" she yelled happily, shuffling forward to give him a hug. "GOSH, I was beginning to think we'd never see you again!" Pulling away from the hug, she gave him a quick check. "I swear you kids grow so damn fast...! How tall are you? Gotta be over 6ft by now, right?" Still sitting down, I can't help but smile at their exchange as I remove my other shoe. I lean back on my hands as I look up at them. "Glad to see that you two are still friends," she began to say, eying down at me with a playfully scornful look before smiling back at Oz. "although I'm sure my boy has made it hard on you..." This made me eye the corner of the room out of slight shame, but I didn't drop the smile. "Dinner's just about ready, and there's more than enough to eat, so why don't you stay? Scratch that-- you're staying. End of story." My mother gave him a raise of her eyebrows as she pointed at him and began backing away to the kitchen. "We're having pasta~" she sang, turning away with a chuckle before disappearing through the doorway, little Mitzy quickly following after her.

"Sorry about that." I said once she was gone. "She just wasn't expecting to see you so suddenly, haha." I scratch the back of my head and stand up. "But like she said, you're more than welcome to stay for dinner." Smiling, I pat his shoulder from the side before turning and heading for my room. On the way, I took out my pocket-watch to check the time. It was almost 6pm. The walk to my house was still a little lengthy... Guess I underestimated it due to normally riding a bike to school. Hope Oz's back was okay. Finally reaching my room, I opened the door and flicked on the light. The sight of my rather unoriginal room came into view. It was clean, but it wasn't so boring that one couldn't enjoy themselves when visiting, I suppose. Oscar liked video games, and so I had a decent flat-screen TV and a couple of consoles sitting beside it for whenever he or Violet came by and wanted to hang out inside rather than out. Otherwise, I never really used this room for much other than sleep. If I wasn't entertaining guests, it was just another room to me.

I sat down on the small couch that was pushed up against the wall beside my bed and kicked back. "Make yourself at home." I said, waving an arm around lazily after ruffling my own hair a bit before hopping back up onto my feet. "Oh, sorry-- you want something to drink?" I asked him, remembering how difficult the walk must have been for him, carrying all that extra weight on his back. He was bound to be craving some water by now, right? Maybe it was wrong of me to have deprived my friend of that offer made by Briton to give him a ride home... After all, Oz probably only agreed to walk with me because he saw a chance to hang out with his best friend, even if it was just for a short time. A chance that wouldn't have even been made available in the first place if it wasn't for me...

"Briton, you might be upset with me because I put you on the spot all of the sudden, but I only asked because I was concerned..." It was Nate again, continuing on and trying to justify the purpose of why he'd bothered to bring up the topic, why he'd dared to say anything to Briton about a topic he knew was better left untouched. Frankly, Briton cared little for Nate's reasoning at this point. It didn't matter. Briton didn't care that it was out of concern or caring, he didn't care if talking to someone was supposed to 'make things better,' or whatever, he just wanted people out of his business. Being treated like a helpless little damsel in distress was agonizing enough when it came down to his friends intervening whenever they caught someone in the act of bullying him, and Briton was positive it was a position many girls didn't even want to be in these days! Why couldn't they just leave him be to fight his own battles? Save his own damn self? Well, perhaps because he couldn't.

"And as for what I'm going to do, well... I guess I'll cross that bridge when I come to it." Briton finally made an effort to look up at his friend just in time to see him give a light shrug. Briton didn't like the way Nate had phrased that in the least, though. Not making a plan and even going so far as to leave it all up to the impulse of a moment? It was even stupider than the idea of Nate trying to intervene in the first place.

Briton let his gaze sink back away once again, dropping down to his lap. He didn't have anything to say at this point, and he was sure that even if he tried, all that would come out would be an inaudible murmur. For Christ's sake, Nathan, even overly-concerned-all-the-time Amber fucking knew better to say a single thing about Briton's knees when she'd finally arrived back at the table. It wasn't important, and now, after all those eyes on him and all that attention, and that sudden outburst, he wasn't even sure he could get a sentence to come out correctly. He didn't want to move, he didn't want to look at anyone. Part of him wanted to sink away and hide until all of his friends were gone and none of them were even passing him a glance anymore. Still, he put forth the effort to look around the table from time to time, and as his eyes lifted once more, he caught Nate just as he tapped down his hand on Oz's shoulder.

"Hey, mind taking a walk with me? Seems like the girls are gonna be waist-deep in Narnia once they reach Lacey's closet, and Briton's probably too irked to wanna give me a ride home, so I'd appreciate the company." Nate said, and Briton's heat instantly sank down even lower. Nate was taking Oz, and Oz, as was expected, agreed without a single protest. Briton's eyes averted again, not caring about the sudden, visible slump in his shoulders. How. Damn. Pathetic. Briton really knew he had to get his mind off of this guy, but for some reason, he just couldn't help it. Which was doubly annoying, and made him doubly mad at Nate for being closer friends with Oz than he was. Which, then, circled back around to make Briton feel pretty pathetic again.

Nate's steps were almost to the door when Briton heard his name again, coming from, who'd have fucking guessed, Nathan. Briton looked over his shoulder meekly, eyes narrowed, lips pouted, while Nate's words came out. "And Briton... I know I don't really have the right to involve myself in your life after being so distant with everyone, but..." He gave a small pause, staring hard at Briton, a look which made Briton shift his eyes away, even if he left himself still facing Nate. He was tired of eye contact. Why couldn't they just stop looking? "Nobody fucks with my friends..."

Why should you care so much when even I don't? Briton thought bitterly, turning back to face the table while Nathan continued to say some departing words to Violet, about seeing her at the party and whatever.

"See you guys at the party," Oz had suddenly said, and Briton's eyes went up again, honing right in on Oz's sweet, friendly face just as it met his. That gentle hand reached down and, though the result of the action was much undesirable, Briton gave a small smile, just barely turning up the corners of his mouth as Oz's hand connected with his head and tousled his hair every which way imaginable. He was still smiling faintly to himself while Oz said his last goodbyes and followed after Nathan, while Briton raked his hands back through his hair to shove those long, half-blonde strands back behind his ears and out of the way. He had that look on his face like when someone is trying their hardest not to smile. He was angry for Christ's sake! He was upset... He didn't have time to be thinking about that kind of stuff, or getting flustered over something he shouldn't be getting flustered over in the first place. And yet here he was. It took him a moment to drop the smile, regain that emotionless facade, aside from that sad look in his eyes.

"Let's get this show on the road." Charlie suddenly interjected, drawing Briton's attention back to what was going on. Both Charlie and Sam would still be taking the ride from him, and he had to keep himself together for at least as long as it would take to get them home. Briton found him nodding at the comment absentmindedly while he stood slowly from his seat and pushing it in under the edge of the table even though he knew very well it didn't belong at the end of that booth.

Another Jolt came to him - no, not a jolt, just a gentle nudge from Charlie, thought it still managed to make Briton jump slightly, being caught off guard by the action. "You know you can talk to me right?" Charlie said, a kind smile spread across his face. Briton could tell the guy was concerned, for sure. He kind of felt bad, but... It was his business after all. He didn't have to talk to anyone if he didn't want to, and that was a fact. He didn't have to do anything he didn't want to, really! Even if maybe he was the type to cave in for fear they'd give him too much attention if he didn't comply. "That is what friends are for."

The last comment struck Briton with a tinge of guilt with the emphasis on friends. Sure, maybe Charlie was feeling guilty for the stupid reason of having not been so open about caring about Briton or something along those kinds of ridiculous lines, but it almost felt like an accusation. Here were these friends of Briton's, and he couldn't even manage to open up to them. Not in a single of his lives had he died without taking his secret to the grave - though perhaps some just sort of "knew" on instinct that he was gay and didn't bring it up, who could say - and not a single time in being bullied when his friends weren't there to see it did he even bring it up. Were they mad about that? Deep down was Briton just a frustration to them that they couldn't even find a way to connect with him, or help him out? Still, it wasn't going to make opening up to them and telling them everything any easier. Maybe they wanted to help, but really... what were they going to think?

"I call shotgun." Charlie said suddenly, breaking Briton away from his paranoia. At least the topic was gone and out of the way, and Briton gave a small tilt up to the corner of his lips at the departing Charlie, scampering out the front door to go and wait by the old Camry outside.

Briton gave a look over his shoulder at Sam, giving as lighthearted a shrug as he could. "Guess it's time to hit the road, huh?" Briton let out a small sigh, facing forward again and heading out the same way, taking a few deep breaths to be sure he was going to handle himself well enough for driving. He pulled the keys from his pocket, shoving them in the driver's side door and turning until the doors on all sides unlocked, allowing the two other boys to slide in; Sam into the backseat and Charlie into the passenger seat. Briton quickly grabbed his backpack from the passenger seat just in the nick of time before Charlie was sliding in, and promptly pulled his ipod from the front pocket before tossing the heavy bag full of books into one of the back seats next to Sam where it was a little more out of the way. He started the car quickly, next, before turning his attention over to the radio, plugging his ipod into the jack so that the auxiliary would play rather than the radio, an upgrade to the car which his brother had worked for hours on when Briton had first gotten the thing.

"You guys'll just have to suffer through some of my music for the short ride. Hope you don't mind." Briton said, finally bringing his voice up to a somewhat normal - or at least, normal for him - tone as he pulled up his most recent playlist and let it start before setting his ipod down and pulling out just as "Hard Smart Beta" by Starfucker started playing. At least music could distract him a little on the ride home. Make him a little less on edge, perhaps. Sure, the mix was full of who the hell could guess what, and no one could ever be sure exactly what would pop up next, but most of it was in... relatively good taste. Um.... most of it was. Some, on the other hand was extremely questionable.

By the time he'd pulled out of the parking lot, however, the short song had ended, and "Problem" by Natalia kills had started playing instead. Okay there was one of the questionable ones, he knew they were in there somewhere. He would have reached over and skipped it, what with the guys in his car and all, but... He was driving, and with his emotions already shaky enough, he didn't want to risk distracting himself from the task at hand. He hated driving enough. He decided against apologizing about the song, in hopes that they were just too distracted or whatever to actually question the lyrics. Either way, the song wouldn't last forever, and by the time the car pulled up to Sam's place, the song had changed to "Breezeblocks" by Alt-J.

"Bye, Sam," Briton called after his departing friend while he slipped out and headed towards his house. He bit his lip a moment, fighting against the urge to continue to ignore that even if Briton didn't like it, the guy had done something for him, and Briton had still refused to acknowledge it. Finally, just before losing the small window of opportunity to do so, he opened his car door window threw out some small, if not somewhat grumbly, words of gratitude. "And... Thanks. For the gauze and shit, by the way..."

He sighed, feeling a bit mentally exhausted. Yeah, more like thanks for butting your way into something that didn't need any more assistance! I would have taken care of it when I got home, Briton thought bitterly as he rolled the window up and pulled away from the curb. It would have been fine...

His eyes traveled over to Charlie for a split second, before they darted back to the street. "Alright, next to drop you off at your place."

It was with complete and utter patience that Oz trailed alongside Nathan, adjusting the strap of his backpack digging into his left shoulder. The answer wasn't immediate, not that Oz particularly minded, and instead a moment of silence fell over the two friends, or at least all of the silence that life in a small town afforded. The sun was still trudging along its familiar path, dipping beneath the horizon as the heat of the day slowly began to dissipate leaving a gentle breeze. The silence, as it turned out, did not last long as when they were a fair distance from the diner, or at least far enough not to be immediately heard by those leaving the restaurant, Nate began to speak.

"We'll hang out at my place until the party, since you don't seem like you're up for a trip back to school."

Oz's ever-present smile grew even wider to meet the slight humorous smile on his friend's face. Leave it to Nate to think about something like that- he may not be a constant worrywart but whether it be Briton's... issues or just Oz's death-by-backpack situation, the other boy always seemed to have his friends' best interests in heart. Well, almost always. It was sad to say that Oz wasn't quite sure what his best friend was thinking these days as he withdrew from their group, from Oz. Still, Oz still clung to his optimism like a life raft, so sure that it would all turn out all right and that Nate would be back to his old self soon enough. Until then, Oz would just do what he always seemed to be doing- waiting.

"Sounds good to me," he agreed instantly. And it did sound good not just because of the short walk but because it had been ages since he'd been to Nate's house, since they had hung out together just the two of them. That was, of course, when the conversation took a turn for the serious, Nate's smile shrinking and voice taking on a more somber tone.

Oz found himself simply nodding his head minutely as Nate spoke, offering up half-hearted apologies with no explanations attached and a reaffirmation about his worry for Briton. Join the club, Oz mentally mused as a familiar knot of worry twisted his stomach leaving him feeling nauseous. He didn't doubt for a minute that Nate cared about them, (Oz was, in this regard, too loyal by far). But doing something about Briton wasn't as cut and dry as everyone liked to make it seem. How do I help Briton had been a recurring thought over Oz's lifetime since he'd met the smaller boy so many years ago and he'd yet to find some way to make everything all right.

Nate stopped suddenly and Oz did too after a few more steps, turning towards his friend with some confusion only to be met by Nate's gaze. Oz had to crane his neck slight down and Nate had to tilt his head upwards, but their gazes met for a moment. Nate looked troubled, an expression that was uncharacteristic of and looked out of place on the high schooler, like a secret was trying to pass through his lips but, for whatever reason, he didn't see it fit to inform his best friend. Instead of looking away, Oz met the stare with his own sleepy eyes, trying for a compassionate expression like that simple look could make his friend open up. It didn't, of course it didn't, and the spell was broken when Nate began to speak again.

"What do you think?" What did he think? Luckily he was spared an immediate reply as Nate continued to talk, allowing the relaxed boy to roll the thoughts around in his mind. Should they tell a teacher? Doubtful given the prevalent 'see-no-evil' policy they'd adopted, ignoring bullying that didn't play out in front of them. Follow Briton around like guard dogs(although it would take a serious amount of imagination to even fathom the idea of Oz putting up a physical fight despite his rather tall size)? Avert their eyes and ignore the issue unless it was in front of them until Briton was good and ready to have it dealt with? Oz had been following that method for years and, surprise, surprise, it wasn't exactly working out.

Oz was jerked out of his thoughts by a noise or, rather, the lack thereof. Nate had gone silent and was just standing there, scowling fiercely at the ground. However, just as suddenly as he had stopped, Nate was in motion again, a vague apology tumbling off of his lips(to which Oz simply shook his head with a quick "No worries") and they were moving again along the familiar path towards Nate's house. Oz followed behind obediently, tilting his head for a moment to regard his friend, but, to be honest, it wasn't the weirdest thing Nate had done, not by a long shot.

It was like a light-switch had been flicked on and suddenly there was normality in Oz's life- like nothing had ever changed, like no fights were being had, like no one was drifting away- when a little ball of fluff came flying out of Nate's house, nipping at and dancing around Oz with a dizzying sort of excitement that contrasted with his lack of energy. Oz was just as happy as Mitzy was, leaning over and carding his hands through soft fur as she passed by in a never-ending circle, accepting nips from sharp little teeth and accompanying licks as if to salve the minor wounds with glee.

"I missed her too," He cooed as the Volipino gave one last circle before darting back inside with Nate and Oz following behind, albeit much more slowly. Even if Nate hadn't indicated that Oz could set his backpack down, Oz would have anyways, following old habits without much thought after many an afternoon spent at Nate's home. Well, not entirely Nate's home. There were, of course, other occupants, one of which who made their own appearance.

Oz accepted the hug without hesitation, wrapping his gangly arms around her with just as much affection. To be honest, Nate's mother really sometimes served as Oz's second mother as shown just at that moment as she tutted over him like it had been years since they'd last seen each other.

"As if Nate could get rid of me that easily," Oz joked warmly, not catching Nate's shamed look, too caught up in the whirlwind of familiar warmth. In a way, Nate's mother was just as excitable as Mitzy, quickly deciding that he would be staying for dinner(not that Oz would ever turn down a free meal) and dashing back into the kitchen as suddenly as she'd entered.

"Don't be sorry," He snorted good-naturedly at Nate's apology. "I only come here to see them. You just happen to be here." Then, with another smile after his little joke, he added, "And I'd love to stay for dinner." He followed his friend along the familiar path to his room which, as Oz had often noted, seemed a little devoid of personality. Oh, there were things all right, fantastic things like a flatscreen and video games and a couch, but no posters, so eclectic items gathered over years of life. It was just a room. A nice room.

He settled on the couch as well, collapsing into the seat and sinking into the cushions with no little satisfaction.

"I'm fine," Oz replied quickly, shaking his cup as if in demonstration and took another sip. It was more liquid than shake now, but still tasty enough like a sort of ice-cream soup. The next words, however, he couldn't account for, didn't know how they appeared in his mind or how they subsequently squirmed out of his lips.

"I know that you still care about us," He began, "You're a good friend, Nate, even if you've been a little distant lately. But, you know, I want to do something about the Briton thing too. If we're going to do something," He continued, fiddling with the styrofoam cup still half full of strawberry milkshake, "Then maybe we should talk to them? Like, at the party? Ask what's going on or... I dunno. I mean, we have to do something..." He trailed off, taking an exaggeratedly long slurp from his melting drink. The words were so uncharacteristic coming from him that it almost made him stumble. Oz, the eternal pacifist, suggesting that they take on a problem no one had asked them to solve. Sure it was in a nonviolent and, if he had his way, nonaggressive way, but given Oz's tendency that doubled as a fault of letting things be unless forced or asked otherwise, it was bizarre. Maybe it just showed how much he cared for Briton, maybe he was grasping at his friends as they all seemed to be separating(or at least that was the case of his own best friend), or maybe it was because he hadn't had time to get his daily yoga routine since his mother had had to drop him off to school early on her way to work given his lack of car.

"Never mind, don't listen to me. I'm talking crazy," He amended, shaking his head with a light chuckle to laugh off the situation. It sounded natural and not at all forced which was one of the things that made Oz a dangerous person both to others and to himself. He could shrug off things like this for the moment and later erase it away with a little relaxation or at least try to. "Well, except for the you being a good friend part. That's a little less crazy, right, man?"

Samuel Westhouse

After his playful exchange with Paige, Briton's snapping sobered him up. He was defensive. Sam couldn't blame him for that, he liked keeping his personal life personal, but then again, he didn't show up with various signs of physical abuse on his body at any given time. Especially not with broken skin. That was a serious problem. Thankfully, Brtion ultimately divulged his culprits. Two guys. Sam's mind jumped to calculations. Who would go after them? Nate, obviously. Nate could hold his own, and he'd probably get Oz on his team too. They'd be fine, they didn't need him. But it was the other member of their group that worried him. Violet. Sure, she was a strong girl, but he knew that she didn't know when it was a good time to fold her cards. She could get hurt going up big guys like that. Maybe he'd approach her, see if they could work things out. He didn't talk to her much, but he did watch her just as much as he did the others in the group, and he noticed some things that told a bit more than she'd probably want to divulge. But he never mentioned anything. He wouldn't unless there was something truly serious. Like Briton's problem.

After the strained exchange Nate rose and left, taking Oz with him, as did the girls. Sam decided he'd catch Violet later. He'd have to decide what to say before hand though, or it probably wouldn't come out right. Charlie urged their group, comprised of Sam, himself, and Briton, and Sam rose, sweeping the rest of the supplies he'd offered to Briton back into his bag, kicking his soccer ball up into his arms, and following the other two out to Briton's car. Charlie called shotgun, so he quietly slid into the backseat, rapping his knuckles lightly against the top of the ball. He honestly wasn't a big fan of mechanical transportation, he liked being out in the air, moving, but he didn't have enough time to run all the way home without getting seriously bedraggled. He just needed to get in and out before his mother came home. He loved her, but the less time he spent around her the better.

Instead of bouncing around impatiently in the car, as he felt the urge to do, Sam forced himself to rest his head against the back of the chair and shut his eyes, focusing on the music that was playing without really listening to it. is knee bounced lightly, but the rest of him stayed completely still. Maybe he'd just grab his stuff and disappear into the woods for a while. That sounded nice. When the car stopped it wasn't two seconds later when the back door clicked shut again. He threw in a "Later Charlie." somewhere in there before his anxious feet hit the pavement. He circled around the car, pausing at the mailbox for a second to grab a fistful of the papers within. Bills, always bills. Electricity, water, heating. Briton called out a good bye and he lifted a hand. "Thanks, bro." He responded, his voice just a bit too soft to carry very far. There was a laden silence that made Sam pause, his back to the car, and he heard the windshield squeal down.

A grudging sentence of thanks floated to him. He didn't speak a response though. He turned on his heels, pulling a small smile onto his face and waving with his fist of mail. He watched the car roll away and he sighed. Things were so complicated sometimes. Always, actually. He couldn't understand it. So many tensions, so many half-turned up graves just waiting for someone to fall in. Everyone seemed to have some kind of problem. Sam had decided long ago that he wouldn't burden the others with his shit, and he'd succeeded pretty well so far. He was ever present, but emotionally distant. Unlike Briton his troubles were buried deep and held no physical scars to betray their presence. He just seemed like a sleepy, laid back guy that didn't say much. Paige had done her share of prying, but Sam knew how to keep himself to himself. His problems didn't matter. No big deal. His job was to support his friends as well as he could until they all set off, seeking out their own lives. Maybe someday he'd get a GED, go to a community college or something, but there was no point now. It all felt sort of...worthless.

Sam pushed through the door, tossing the mail onto the table and flipping open the tap for a few seconds to get a drink of water from his cupped hand. All that was in his future for the immediate future was waiting. He was obligated to go to the stupid party, anything for Paige, but until then he had nothing to do. Just be gone before his Mother came home, because his presence made her even sadder than she usually was.

Paige grinned at Sam's comment as the brunette snatched his ball back and turned his attention towards the ongoing Briton situation. Paige sulked quietly for a moment, debating whether or not to steal the ball again. Honestly she enjoyed the short exchange with Sam. For a short moment it was just them at the table.

Paige cast a sideway glance at him, his face held its signature expression and he looked to be deep in thought.

"Outfit time!" Lacey's shrill, excited voice woke Paige up from her short trance, she watched as Lacey started talking about a shopping trip with her sisters, while she linked arms with both Amber and Violet. Leaving Paige like the kinda awkward fourth wheel. What did it matter though, she never was really close with the Lacey deciding on playing in the dirt and rain rather than shopping and partying. A slight shrug past its way across the red heads shoulders, as she decided to get rid of that awkward friend of a friend vibe she was radiating.

"Guess that's my cue." Paige said to none in-particular as she swung her backpack over her shoulder. Getting up she began to followed the trio.

"See ya Sammy-boy." Paige called over her shoulder as she stepped into the refreshing air. Hoping into the backseat, Paige snapped her seat belt in and looked out the window as the car began to drive away. Rolling down the window a smile made its way across her face as the wind began to blow through her hair, wildly wipping it around. She began drumming a tune on her backpack that layed across her lap in sync with with a woman peddling on a bike outside the window.

"Darn it!" The words slipped out of Paige's mouth as she realized she had left her bike back at the diner and would probably need a ride before or after the party to get it.

"So. I'm just wondering." Paige looked over at Violet an eyebrow raised as her bike problem vanished from her mind. "Let's say, uh. Girl A hated it when bad shit happened. And she wondered why no one tried to do anything 'bout it, right? So she ended up trying to take out the bad people to stop bad shit from happening at all... is, is that something that's okay? Is Girl A bad cuz of that?"

Paige chuckled slightly not really taking the situation seriously. "Mind not talking in circles?" She asked jokingly, her eyes still remaining on the scenery outside.

After a minute of silence Paige glanced over at Vi an awkward laugh escaping her lips as she realized she was serious. Nervously rolling up her window Paige tried to compose herself and her now pink tinged cheeks.

"Umm no. I would actually say she's awesome. Kinda like a superhero, maybe." Paige shrugged. "Why?" She asked looking directly at Violet, her dyed red hair now messily hanging around her face, and in her eyes.

The ride was pretty much silent other than the ongoing sound of Briton's music that Charlie payed no mind to as he stared out the window. His thoughts drifted around loosely in his head, strangely enough all of them kept coming back to the guy who was only an arm lengths a way, but was more like a mile.

Briton.

Charlie glanced over at the blonde next to him who seemed to be focused on the road. His soft features still looked a little bit shaken up from the recent conversation involving his injury.

Which Charlie was to blame of course, not his injury no the reason he was upset. Because stupid Charlie decided to bring up the subject. He had made Briton frown, he started it. The only time he had seen the blonde smile since he had shoved up the boy's pants legs was when Oz had touched him. Even if was only a slight twitch of his mouth Charlie could tell Briton's spirits were lifted. Charlie bit his lip why couldn't he make him smile? Why did it have to be Oz? Oh so perfect Oz, the Oz everybody loved, including Briton. He was charismatic, friendly, good looking, and easy going who wouldn't love him?

Stupid Briton,why was he even on his mind.

Briton, Charlie almost said out loud. He couldn't stop repeating the kids name, it was like it was stuck on replay in his head. He liked the name though, so he didnt mind. He liked the way it rolled of his tongue, it suited the handsome blonde next to him. Charlie shook his head violently angry with his thoughts. What was he saying this was one of his dearest friends he was talking about. Thinking thoughts like that weren't okay right? Straight guys didn't think like that, right? But he and Briton were close friends, weren't they? He was concerned about him that's why he was thinking about him so much. Its okay to be concerned. That's what friends are suppose to feel like towards other friends. That's all it was he was worried about his friend.

Charlie nodded lightly agreeing with himself as he relaxed a little in his seat.

"Alright, next to drop you off at your place."

Charlie looked over at Briton startled to hear his voice in the now almost empty car. Guess he hadn't noticed Sam get out, shrugging slightly Charlie let out a sigh.

He didn't really want to go home, his dad was off tonight. Charlie honestly didn't feel like dealing with his dad or his fathers bitchy girlfriend who was always complaining about the lack of space and dirtiness in their small two bedroom apartment yet stayed their 24/7.

"Nah lets do something fun." Charlie stated bluntly not willingly to take no as answer.

"Maybe we can pick up some chicks to take to the party. I'm getting bored of our high-school girls." Charlie smirked looking over at the green eyed boy next to him, trying to hide the dissatisfaction he felt at the thought of picking up girls. "Or we can call Nate and Oz and see what their doing." Charlie continued without thinking, instantly regretting mentioning Oz.

"Or we could just hang out." Charlie quickly added trying to sound nonchalant though the sentence came out quieter than the rest of his suggestions. Glancing over at Briton Charlie suddenly felt his cheeks turn a deep shade of red as he mentally cursed himself for even offering for the two of them to hang out. Briton probably wanted to get rid of him, maybe he was still pissed at him for bringing up the subject.

Whatever, it doesn't matter Charlie thought bitterly turning to look out the passenger window. Running a quick hand through his hair he spoke again trying to keep his voice steady.

"Never mind, just drop me off."

"Nah lets do something fun," Charlie blurted, the sudden opposition startling Briton slightly. He raised his brows, looked over the the boy sitting in the other seat, confused, before quickly darting his eyes back over to the road, straightening out the car which had begun to drift towards the center line of the road. Fun, huh? Fun?? Did Briton seem like he was up for something fun to him? Briton just didn't get it.

"Maybe we can pick up some chicks to take to the party. I'm getting bored of our high-school girls." Charlie continued to suggest. Briton let out a small huff. He supposed that would be what Charlie would consider fun, but nowhere in a single sliver of Briton's small person was he in any mood to be pretending to be interested in some random girls. Not to mention that, while "picking up chicks" seemed like a fine and dandy activity to Mr. Playboy over here, he must not have realized that it would have been near impossible for Briton to "score with the ladies" in the first place, sexuality aside. He opened his mouth to object, but much to his satisfaction, Charlie moved on from the suggestion rather quickly. "Or we can call Nate and Oz and see what their doing."

Briton slumped his shoulders at the thought. Nate and Oz were probably hanging out, and, regardless of Nate's downer attitude and sudden complex about teaching a lesson to the boys who were tormenting Briton, Oz was probably enjoying every second. They were best friends, after all, weren't they? Briton was just Oz's Friend. As much as any encounter with Oz was... favorable... The idea was beginning to make Briton feel sick to his stomach. Maybe it was best to leave his awful obsession alone for one weekend. He could stay home, avoid the party and his friends for a while, and maybe that would make him feel a little better. As long as he didn't end up hearing stories on Monday about the weekend's events of pounding the shit out of the bullies and making a huge mess, it was fine, right? Avoidance was far easier, far more pleasant, far less messy.

"Or we could just hang out." He continued, his statement seeming to almost step on his other statement to crush it, though Briton wasn't quite sure why. This was probably one of the more interesting suggestions, too. How often really was it that the two of them had hung out just together? Perhaps they hadn't, aside from perhaps when they were quite young. But it did always seem that Briton was only ever hanging out with any of his friends when he was just tagging along with their groups. He glanced back over at Charlie quickly, trying to figure out what exactly Charlie was going for as far as the purpose of the suggestions, and noticed the other boy sort of... give up. "Never mind, just drop me off."

Briton's eyes flew back to the road, biting his lip and not saying anything for the moment while he just tried to think. From the sounds of it, Charlie didn't really seem like he wanted to be just dropped off, not after trying so hard to suggest something else to do, after all. Maybe it was that he just didn't want to go home, or maybe he still felt a little guilty about contributing towards putting Briton on the spot like that earlier. Now that he thought about it, Briton was surprised at himself for not holding anything against the kid. He wasn't really mad at Charlie, at all, despite him being the one that triggered all that came after it. But really, he supposed Charlie just didn't know about it. He thought he was helping, maybe, though Briton was sure that Nate thought he was helping, too. Still, had Nathan kept his mouth shut, most of his friends would have simply gritted their teeth as they pretended to accept the fall excuse. No, there really wasn't too much to hold against Charlie. Not yet, anyway.

"Um, I mean we can hang out at my place for a little while," Briton suggested, trying to keep his focus on driving now finally that he'd realized his speed had begun to increase a bit too much. "I don't really think I'd have much fun trying to pick up girls, and I'd probably hurt your 'game' or whatever. But we can hang out at my place and then I can just like, drop you off at the party later. I know I told Violet I'd think about going, but I doubt it." He shrugged, turning the car down the road for his neighborhood, muttering something along the lines of, "I'll decide later."

"Anyway, uh," He continued, trying to avoid too much of an awkward silence inside the vehicle for much longer. "My house should be empty, anyway. And, by the way," Briton bit his lip a moment, pausing a little too long as a stop sign before continuing on. "I hope you know I'm not like... mad at you or anything. About calling attention to my... y'know. It's not like you knew, I guess. And you were just trying to help so, it's okay." He sighed, realizing how butchered the sentence was, and he really hadn't wanted to talk about it at all, really. Still, he had to get it out of the way, clear the air so-to-speak.

It wasn't much longer before he pulled up in the gravel driveway of the two story apartment building. It was simple, plain, surrounded by flat, browning grass and rusty chain fences on three sides. The wood paneling on the building itself was dark and old, and many panels were missing. The front door lead into the two downstairs apartments, and the brand new, wooden staircase on the side of the house lead to the apartment upstairs; the one - much to his displeasure - that he resided in. He stepped out of the car, waiting for Charlie to follow suit before locking the car door and heading over to the staircase. Every single time he went up those stairs, he always seemed to do the same two things; he'd half-jog up them, eager to be off the staircase as soon as possible, and he stayed as near to the inside of the staircase as he could be, making sure not to look down at all. Once up at the door, he unlocked it and stepped inside with almost a sigh of relief - what a terrible thing that fear of heights was - before finally taking a look behind him to look back at Charlie, holding the door open for when the other boy would make it through himself.

"Sorry it's kinda messy in here," Briton apologized in advance, letting the door swing shut behind Charlie, while he turned, walking through the narrow kitchen they'd stepped into, pausing only to open up the fridge and pry out the pizza box that he'd placed in there only last night, and tuck it under his arm. He didn't really care so much about heating it up. It was the same either way, and even still, the entire half of the extra large pizza was a bit difficult to stick in the microwave all at once. The rest of the apartment, in fact, was rather tidy, having not seen much usage at all from the small boy, though once the door to Briton's small, cramped bedroom was opened, the apology was far more understandable. The room, already crowded by a twin mattress and box-spring, a desk and chair, a small dresser, and a closet in the corner, was additionally strewn full off cables across the floor, a pile of clothes at the foot of the bed in front of the closet door, a flat screen mounted on the wall, a heavy duty computer, two stolen computers from the school's AV club, two monitors on the desk, a laptop on the bed, strewn soda cans, and nearly every system and game that a young man could want. The drawn curtains of the room certainly didn't help the scene, either.

Briton stepped carefully over wires, kicking his shoes off and under the desk where they'd be out of the way, before plopping the box of pizza down on an empty space on the desk. He pulled the computer chair out for Charlie before plopping down himself on the edge of the bed. "So, uh," he shrugged, unsure of what to suggest. "Did you want to... Watch a movie or play a video game or something? Or, I mean, did you want something? A drink or whatever?"

Oz kindly refused my offer to get him something to drink by shaking his, by now, likely melted milkshake at me. This made me nod with a wry smile, showing that I understood. I felt awkward, so I stepped over to my window and leaned to my side, my elbow propped up on the windowsill. If someone who didn't know any better were to walk into that bedroom right then, looking for the owner of said bedroom, it wouldn't have surprised me if they addressed the tall young man who was sitting comfortably on the small couch, slurping down his shake as though he'd lived there his entire adolescent life, instead of the apparent stranger who seemed to have never set foot in that house before then, which explained why he was leaning up against the windowsill, rather than plopped down on the couch alongside Oz. All that, aside from the actual resident having been me instead of Oz, was practically 100% true.

I just didn't feel at home there-- I never did. In any of these lives. Not entirely, anyway. Sure, it felt familiar, seeing as how I grew up in the damn place for 15 years before it finally felt incorrect, but the fact that it wasn't my original home made it feel strange to me now. It was the same for my family. Or families, since this sure as hell wasn't the first... The only thing that still felt somewhat real to me was my friends. Or, at least, they used to... There was a time when I could say without a doubt that I was everything was perfect, and I was still important to them. But now... Judging by the way I simply didn't know how to place myself, in my own room, while the man who I was supposed to be mutual best friends with was visiting, I just wasn't sure anymore... Adding that in with the constant feeling of my heart not being in the same place as my mind while I was staying under that roof, and it just felt all the more awkward. It was, of course, nice being around my friends-- especially around Oz, who was my oldest and very best, but it... It just wasn't the same anymore... Not since I made that unbelievably selfish decision... Dammit... Now I'm feeling depressed just talking about that. Nevermind that -- the past's not important at this point in the story, so I'll get back to that later when it is. What was important, was what Oz said next.

"I know you still care about us; you're a good friend, Nate, even if you've been a little distant lately." Those words made my thoughts freeze for a second. They lingered on the phrase 'you're a good friend' as I reflexively smiled a little. It echoed a few times inside my head, each rebounding version sounding louder and louder until it blocked out the ticking of my pocket watch. While the words alone were enough to cause some inner, personal conflict about how I should feel after hearing them, I was also feeling conflicted on what was better; the bliss of not hearing my watch for a few short seconds, or what Oz was going on to say about our friend Briton, which indirectly changed how certain things would play out for a few of our friends over the course of the next several days. "I want to do something about the Briton thing too. If we're going to do something, then maybe we should talk to them? Like, at the party? Ask what's going on or... I dunno. I mean, we have to do something..." After finally admitting that it was bothering him too, he stopped talking for a moment to play with his Styrofoam cup.

Yes! Oz is on board! Kinda! I thought to myself. I didn't jump with joy or anything, but I was indeed happy to hear that I wasn't alone in this. If I had been, then the odds of success would have been considerably lower than they were with him. As was generally every conflict Oz was dragged into. For some reason, talking it out with Oz, no matter who you were, seemed to take the fight out of you entirely. Like it just wasn't worth it after all. Maybe it was due to the calm air around him, with his natural "pacifist" nature, or maybe it was the fact that he was pretty tall and might have come off as a little intimidating to the average bully. Whatever the case, he was always handy to have alongside you if things ever became even slightly heated between two people. That being said, Oz was laid-back and usually against prying into peoples' lives unless otherwise asked, so I use the word 'generally' lightly. With that having been said by our group's wonderful pacifist, I felt more confidant that something could in fact be done about Briton's bullies. And if all went well, no blood would be drawn in the process. At least, that's what I was counting on.

"Nevermind, don't listen to me. I'm talking crazy." He said. This made me frown a bit just before he continued. "Well, except for the you being a good friend part. That's a little less crazy, right, man?" The hell it is. "Yeah..." I said somewhat quietly, with yet another smile, go figure. With my earlier conflicting feelings on Oz's clearly genuine words coming back to me, I felt my chest tighten with pain a little bit as I went back to avoiding me as a topic of interest. "Well, no. You're not crazy, Oz. In fact, you're dead on." I began, smiling more now as I pointed at him casually. "I'm not looking for a fight or anything, just a solution. I want these assholes to leave Briton alone, but I don't wanna make things worse by, say, kicking their asses in front of the whole school only for them to find out that we're friends with the guy they openly pick on who obviously spilled the beans." I paused for a moment after saying that last part rather quickly to readjust my position, without thinking about it. I was now leaning my lower back against the bulky edge of the windowsill that was slightly sticking out from the wall, my hands in my pockets feeling the weight of my watch out of force of habit. "Who knows, maybe if you and I calmly talk to them about it like bros, they'll respect us for it and leave him alone." I said with a slight shrug. Pffft, who was I kidding...? This was HIGH SCHOOL. 21st CENTURY high school... "And if not, then we get a little more...'creative' about our approach." I finished, raising a playful eyebrow, along with a smirk, suggesting something more sinister. Yeah, that seemed more likely.

After the air between us felt lighter now that I began getting back into the groove of how I used to act around my friends, I felt less awkward. Which, as luck would have it, was right in time for my mother to call us out for dinner. Smiling again, I nodded at the door to my bedroom. "So? What are you waiting for? You're usually already halfway out down the hall when you hear my mom shout those words from the kitchen." I said, laughing a little at the memories of better days. It was funny; just a few minutes ago I was feeling awkward over how strange hanging out with Oz felt after so long of being distant towards him and the others, and now, the brief moment that it was, it suddenly felt as though it had never changed. Maybe things weren't as bad as I originally thought. Perhaps I still had a second chance with them after all. And if not with all of them, sad as that thought was, at the very least I'd have my best friend. That thought made me feel like everything was going to be alright. Like it was okay to be happy that they were just here, in my life. Like the curse was no longer a threat. I almost felt at peace because of it. Almost. Maybe the moment would have felt entirely serene, if it weren't for a certain sound reminding me just how far away that little dream truly was... No, the ticking of my watch wouldn't allow me to forget that our final days were just around the corner. And I was the only one who saw it coming... At the time, I didn't really think about that thought lingering in the back of my mind, because things had just started to naturally fall into place again, making me subconsciously slide back into my old persona. And it was because of this that I would come to surprise my friends at the party later that night...

---

---

---

Lacey slipped into shotgun and closed the door neatly behind her. After her belt was firmly in place, she leaned herself back against the seat and propped her feet onto the dashboard. As Amber drove she faded into silence- odd for her, but something had unsettled her. As they were walking through the doors of the diner- a place she had gone to countless of times, something triggered inside her. She had been to that diner more times than she knew, but it didn't used to be a diner- it used to be a different store... But it's been a diner for as long as I've been alive... How could I.. Her thoughts were cut short by a sudden burst from the back seat. "Darn it!" Lacey glanced back toward Paige, her brows knitting together curiously. "You okay?"

Before Paige could answer, Violet spoke up with something on her mind. "So. I'm just wondering," she started, as though she were struggling with something, "Let's say, uh. Girl A hated it when bad shit happened. And she wondered why no one tried to do anything 'bout it, right? So she ended up trying to take out the bad people to stop bad shit from happening at all... is, is that something that's okay? Is Girl A bad cuz of that?" Lacey switched back around to face forward in her seat, mauling the question over. In the end, it was Paige who spoke up first. "Umm no. I would actually say she's awesome. Kinda like a superhero, maybe.... why?"

Lacey sat up in her seat, rolling down her window so that she could lean against the empty frame and let the wind glide past her. Something was wrong, and it didn't have anything to do with her friends-- at least, she didn't think it did. The ginger haired girl closed her blue hues and tried to concentrate. Why did she have such a vivid memory of that place? A mustang drove by, blaring on it's horn causing her to glance up. A decent looking guy, probably early twenties, was hanging out of his driver side window and looking directly at Amber. "Hey, where are you fine ladies off to?" "Oh, please," Lacey laughed, sitting up from hunching over the window and leaning back so that Amber could talk if she wanted to. "Car full of red heads.. I like it. Say, you girls busy tonight?" "Actually, we are!" Lacey called back with a smirk, slowly rolling up the window to block out the guy. "Wait, don't be like that!" Lacey grinned and continued to roll up the window, forcing a pouty look on her face as the window reached the top.

The guy continued to try and yell across the road at them, trying to keep his car lined perfectly with Amber's, but his now muffled voice was lost to Lacey over the roar of the engine and the running AC. She shrugged innocently and turned a grin toward Amber. "Look at you, picking up guys before we even get to the party..." Lacey smiled and gently nudged her friend- careful not to disturb her driving. "Anyways! What were you saying, Vi, before you were so rudely interrupted?"

Paige was the first to respond, making a light chuckle. A bitter sort of shame washed though Vi's psyche- come on, she knew she couldn't rely on anyone when it came to Super Hero Violet! Wasn't that more than obvious? If they knew, they'd reject her, wouldn't they? Both the girls, and the guys too. None of them were allowed to know that she was a fighter. Scowling as she narrowed her eyes into something of a squint, Vi ignored Paige to idly stare at the window; glazed eyes not really taking in the environment. Idiot, such an idiot to have brought it up.

After some time, the awkward silence ended- Paige, seemingly recognizing her mistake (or was it a mistake? Vi wasn't sure.... but maybe she just realized that the guitar girl wasn't making a joke at all.) and she broke the silence, with a different tone, shrugging. "Umm." She looked somewhat hesitant, but continued anyways, making Vi sharply turn her gaze over. "No. I would actually say she's awesome. Kinda like a superhero, maybe." Almost as if to match with Vi's eyes, Paige's glance met Violet's almost-glare. "Why?" Paige finished, but before Vi could gather her thoughts, she heard Lacey and some car of testosterone addled idiots up ahead, screaming stupid shit that didn't matter. Vi clenched her fist in annoyance- why did it have to be those idiots? Why the hell did the trash try to, well, get to know this little group -minus Cora, that artsy freaky person- while the one she wanted, Nate, utterly blocked each and every one of her advances. The irony was great, wasn't it? Finally, the horny bastards left, and Lacey turned to Vi after making another joke to the beauty of the group- that Amber, man, attracting boys everywhere- snugly seated in shotgun.

"Anyways!" Lacey said, making it a trio of girls looking at each other. "What were you saying, Vi, before you were so rudely interrupted?"

Vi shrugged noncommittally. If she was careful, she could still salvage this, and not have to deal with trying to hide the ugly side of her- only really wanting to show the energetic self that they loved... or, at least, claimed to love. But, of course, thinking wasn't really her thing, was it? Angry at herself and at the two assholes that had hurt Brit- damn Ryan and Vic, no way in hell will they get out in one piece - she just wanted to vent her frustrations by smashing their stupid smug faces and keep them from bullying the pathetic member of the team.

"Some.. some fucktards just deserve it, that's all." Vi muttered angrily. "Just was wonderin' how nice it'd be if someone beat the shit out of 'em and then tore them new assholes."

She let out a bitter laugh. "Screw that- just, dunno, break their spines or something." Her mouth twitched, threatening to grin. She now knew what she wanted to do to the bullies. Smashing their backs in with a metal pipe and leaving them to be cripples, isn't that a worthy punishment? So, she decided to change the topic, lest the other girls suddenly notice her thought. "So, Amber." She sneered dryly. "You got like, a magic potion that makes all the guys run to you?" Stretching her arms above her shoulders; "Man, it'd be nice if we all got one'a those."

---

After choosing their outfits; it was party time. Vi was, honestly a bit nervous, in her somewhat casual-yet-a little punk outfit of hers. Poking lightly at the cat ears sewn onto the pullover she was wearing, she sighed. What the hell was the use of a party, when there we- hmm. Well, she could always try to seduce Nate, right? And blame it on the drinks. Oh, and dance with him. Licking her lips a little, she wondered exactly, how to dance? She always thought that shit was for the more girly of girls- not for someone like her. So, there was that. But otherwise, whatever. This might be her chance to make Nathan notice at long last, that she's a girl.

The music was already loud and booming, and the faint smell of liquor was more than obvious. Following the other girls in- and silently thinking that they all looked prettier than she did, Vi almost walked in, until she felt a tap on her shoulder. One of the guys who was just hanging around outside- maybe waiting for a girl? Her eyes snapped to him- and he felt like a Jeff, for some reason.

"Don't remember your name on the invite list." Maybe-Jeff said, with a chuckle. Red boiled under Vi's skin, but with her friends still close, she had to restrain herself. So, she decided to chew on her lip- accidentally going too hard and breaking the skin there; a few blood droplets being seen. "Freak. We wanted a fun party, for the, y'know, cool people. Losers like you don't belong here."

Violet turned away, trembling with anger, when she was pulled back by maybe-Jeff again. And now she recognized him- she beat him down about a year ago, more or less. She didn't remember exactly what it was for, but she was sure he deserved it.

"Pissed 'bout losing to a girl?" Violet said venomously, faking a punch to the face- and sure enough, maybe-Jeff flinched back. Vi then shoved her face into his, grinning nastily. "Fuck off. You aren't the one I'm fighting, tonight."

Hearing maybe-Jeff mutter 'freak' behind her, Violet walked in, and forced her way through the crowd to get at the beer. Couldn't pretend to be drunk if she didn't have a few sips, right?

Violet glared at Paige making the dyed red head shrink down in her seat a little. Turning her eyes to the back of the drivers seat in front of her Paige let out a silent oops only mouthing the words instead of risking the chance of having to receive another death glare from the brunette beside her.

"Hey where are you fine ladies off to?" Paige looked up, clearing her eyes of the blank stare she had just had moments ago. The sound of a male voice making her forget about Violet for a moment. Cocking an eyebrow she tried not to laugh as the boy tried to flirt with Lacey, but to no avail as the ginger haired girl shut the window on him.

Typical dude with 'swag' and too much time on his hands Paige thought as their car rolled past them.

Paige really never got flirted with much. Most guys seeing her as just another one of the boys on their soccer team. That or she come off as a lesbian, or one of those people who weren't interested in anybody. Asexual. Was the term for it Paige thought idly biting her lip and letting her eyes lazily drift to the scenery outside. I guess they really never saw much beauty in me or something Paige decided. Shrugging slightly she tried to shake the self-esteem punching thoughts out of her mind.

"Some.. some fucktards just deserve it, that's all. Just was wonderin' how nice it'd be if someone beat the shit out of 'em and then tore them new assholes." Violet said making Paige stare at her, a puzzled look coming across her face before remembering the earlier topic.

Paige nodded knowingly only really nodding in attempt to try to regain a bit more peace with Violet.

Paige took out her phone after receiving a vibrating sensation from it. "Hmm a text from Cora." Paige muttered as she silently read the text.

Hey Paige! What's up? Can we hangout soon?

Hey C, hmmm what's up? At the moment the roof of Amber's car. No I'm jk. Nm. Sure, we're heading to Lacey's at the moment, I'm with Amber, Vi and Lacey, we're gonna raid Lacey's closet, then off to some party. I think you have time to meet us there, if you don't feel like witnessing the fashion show of the century, just meet us at the party. Oh an don't forget to bring that sketch book, you still haven't shown me what's in there :p

Paige quickly typed the reply, a smirk appearing on her face as she added the last part about Cora's book. Hitting send she shoved her phone in her pocket, just as they came to a stop in front of their destination.

---

"Whada' ya think?" Paige asked to anyone who was listening as she shoved her clothes in her backpack and stood up in Lacey's.

Pushing her bangs out of her eye and behind her ear where her hair sat a dark purple beanie accompanied it the color matching the words Hakuna Matata on the white tank top she wore. Throwing a black leather jacket on she smiled shoving her hands into the pockets of her own skinny jeans.

"Are we ready? "

---

Entering the party Paige let her head bounce slightly to the beat of the music as she weaved herself through sober and not so sober kids. Nodding at the few kids that noticed her she went to stand by a small group of people who she knew, who seemed to be talking about some new song that Paige hadn't really cared for. Emerging herself in the conversation she tried to keep an eye out for Sam.

---

Amber exited with the other girls in a delicate daze. Her hair fell softly around her shoulders, the long locks shifting slightly as she stepped. Her elegant steps were soft and graceful, and she breezed along with the other girls to the car. She was happy, though joyous may be a better word. Happiness described something full, and content with great pleasure. It comes with the sound of laughter, and warm friendly times, wild or docile. Joy was similar, but there was an emptiness in joy. Joy was a smile over a sadness. It was when someone felt a happiness that they knew wouldn't last, or at least was complete. Theres nothing more deceptive than a smile and no one knows this better than the people who hide behind them. Some flash their teeth as a polite warning to their enemies, some put on beaming faces to keep their tears from falling, others wear silly grins to mask their fear. But sometimes it is that rare smile that is actually genuine for whatever reason. Amber had her own way of smiling, one that said you don't really know me, and you never really will.

She sat dreamily in the driver's seat, going through the motions almost. The streets were all familiar, like she'd been on them millions of times before. The roads were old, but they'd been repaved multiple times. Most of the buildings around the town were classically styled, only being renovated when needed. She often had memories and pictures of places as they used to be, though she hadn't recalled even being alive to have known them. Phantasmagoric images always rushed into her mind if she really felt a connection.

As she was coasting towards the intersection, the light switched to yellow. She slowed, knowing she was too far to make it. They paused at the now red light, as another car pulled beside them. A boy looking only a few years older than them leaned over, with a coquettish look directly at Amber. His haughty attitude came off quickly, "Hey, where are you fine ladies off to?" he asked.
"Oh please." Lacey scoffed.
"Car full of red heads.. I like it. Say, you girls busy tonight?" He asked, trying to be coy. It still came off as arrogant and flirtatious, and Amber couldn't help but blush a bit. She stayed quiet, and looked forward again, glancing at the still red light.
"Actually, we are!" Lacey answered, and rolled up the car's window. Amber smiled at this, letting out a giggle as the boys pleaded, "Wait, don't be like that!" The light turned green, and she began to drive again.
Her best friend turned to her again, "Look at you, picking up guys before we even get to the party..." she joked, Amber laughed in response, "Oh stop," she gushed. She barely noticed the soft nudge Lacey had given her, and she turned onto Lacey's street.
Violet brushed off her previous topic, and moved on to something more of interest in the driver herself. "So, Amber. You got like, a magic potion that makes all the guys run to you?" She didn't seem very friendly about it, more blunt with a hint of annoyance. "Man, it'd be nice if we all got one'a those." She muttered frankly.
Amber kept her face forward, and only glanced in the rearview mirror to Violet once before answering. She played along, without revealing her true feelings- both she and Violet were interested in Nathan, and as far as Amber could tell he could care less about her. "It only attracts 'fucktards', so it's really of no use." she quoted. She glanced in the mirror again, sending an amused smirk as they pulled into Lacey's driveway.

---

Amber had easily found what she'd hoped to borrow from Lacey, a floral top they'd bought in the summer while shopping together. Lacey had only worn it a few times, and though Amber was usually more modest she decided she wanted to have a little more fun tonight. She asked Lacey to find shorts to go with it, along with some wedges to match. The outfit was classic, girly, and even a bit vintage. She felt good, and had practiced her charming smile once before in the mirror. She used her favorite perfume she kept in her purse usually, one that smelled of daisies, her favorite flower.
She'd already texted the waiter she'd met, and he said he'd actually already heard of the party, and was looking forward to seeing her. She felt that joy again, knowing she was reluctant to really give any boy a chance as long as Nathan continued to linger in her every thought.

The party was already lively as the girls arrived, and Amber strolled gently along with the others. She could feel the eyes of a few others, but tried to keep distance from any outside-possibly unwanted contact. They hadn't even entered a party when a boy had already been a jerk to Violet. She found it sick how random people treated the girl, so cruelly for no reason at all. She felt an instant disgust towards the boy, and an anger bubbled inside her. The poise she held stayed in tact, for Amber's idea of class was to always seem calm and collected. She took a breath, and began to follow them again into the house. But, again the boy muttered something under his breath about Violet. She turned, quietly, almost so the others might not notice.

"Excuse me? Did you say something?" she questioned the boy, giving him her coldest stare. It was stern and a small furry lit behind the eyes of the fiery redhead. Only briefly was this seen, and the boy was caught slightly off guard. It was true, Amber had a reputation for being incredibly sweet, popular, and well liked. He probably did know of her, though she didn't know his name.
"N-nothing." he said, probably scared of both Violet and Amber at this point.
"Good." she said bluntly, "let's keep it that way."
Amber smiled sweetly again, her signature little smile, and turned again to join her friends entering the house overflowing with people.

Samuel Westhouse

Sam decided an afternoon shower was on the menu, and after that five minutes he promptly ruined any semblance of cleanness as he wandered back out into the woods behind his house, his hair dripping little splotches of black on his dark blue jacket. He wandered through the trails until his hair dried and the time to go was quickly arriving. The woods were cleansing, he loved them, but lingering misgivings hung heavily around his head. Dread? He was nervous deep down in his gut about something, but he didn't know what it was. Certainly not the party he was currently obligated to attend, that was no sweat. He was a quiet guy, but he had few social anxieties. He merely was not interested in talking much.

trotting back down the path, hands shoved in his pockets, the teen peered through the woods to see if his mother's car was in the driveway. It was. His mouth grew thin. Avoiding her put a bit of extra time on his clock, but running in her would take even longer. Eventually he was free to walk down the street lazily. He knew where everything was in this place because it was so small, and he knew all the fastest ways to get to those places by foot. Cutting through backyards and various varieties of private properties was no thing at all.

He arrived at the lukewarm beginning, but things picked up quickly. He shrugged around, a red plastic cup in one hand, one that was a bad habit reserved for special occasions. There was nothing wrong about having a good time. He kept an explicit eye out for Paige, or Violet, even though he had slight misgivings about talking to the girl. He didn't know how she'd react, but he had to offer backup because he'd feel bad if he'd done nothing and she got hurt. Even if she turned him down, well, at least he tried.

Half a blue eye on the door, Sam noticed right away when Paige and the rest of the girls arrived. He smiled faintly, but still he took his time making his way over to her, casting a glance at Violet, who was speaking to some other guy. Yeah, maybe he would wait a bit. She was looking a bit red in the face right now. Didn't want to offend her and spark her up further.

By the time he actually caught up to Paige, standing with a group of people he vaguely knew, he stood behind her for a second, out of her peripheral vision. None of the others in the group even glanced at him. He was a common, uninteresting shadow, just the way he liked it. He swallowed the last of his cup and moved to her side, crumbling the plastic into his fist as he did so. "Hey." He remarked in a light, disinterested tone, touching her arm just above the elbow for a brief moment. "What's up, Red? I showed up, when can I leave?" He teased a soft, serious way, only the faint quirk of a smile betraying him.

She looked pretty in purple. She could pull most things off, actually, from sweatpants to leather jackets. Sam was vaguely interested in how she managed that. He usually looked the same. He really didn't care, and he wore everything he owned with the same thrown together appearance. That really took away the edge of his distinctness. He was fine with that though. It was easier to sink back into the shadows, it kept him from being bothered by people he didn't like too much. He didn't need to bother with making friends because he already had some, so he didn't have to draw anyone's attention.

---

---

After ensuring that her closet was completely destroyed, and she wasdressed, Lacey was picked up by her friend John- who would be DJing with her that night- to head to the location early for set up. "I'll see you all there!" She left her friends rummaging through her things as she bounded out of the house and across the lawn. Hopping into John's car, she passed the tall blonde a Cheshire cat grin. "Nervous?" "Excited." "Good."

When they arrived at the location it was just the sound crew and a few early arrivals. She immediately set about trying to get all of her gear set up as butterflies fluttered around her stomach. Tonight was going to be amazing, but she couldn't help but feel like something terrible was going to happen. What if she messed up? What if she wasn't a god DJ after all? What if everyone had been lying to her just to get her up there just so that they could watch her fail? What if they were secretly planning to dump pig's blood on her in the middle of her DJing? The ginger haired girl slowly sat the headphones she was moving down, taking a deep breath. This is not a scene from Carrie, Lace. Chill the hell out. Picking up the headphones again, she continued on with her sound check, determined to not let her insecurities get the best of her tonight.

---

---

She was doing it. Her remix of We Can't Stop blared through the club as her ginger locks bounced in her pony tail back and forth rhythmically to the beat. Waves of people vibrated, fist pumped, and squirmed to the remix. Her heart pounded in her chest as she focused on scratching in the places she had practiced, her piano fingers turning nob after nob, flying across her equipment as one hand waved back and forth like a metronome over the crowd. The music swam through the room, hiccuping and screaming into the eardrums of everyone present.

Lacey's eyes glanced up from her work, scanning the crowd for her friends. Where were they? Panic gripped her momentarily. What if they had decided not to come? Dread licked up her spine, chilling her even though beads of sweat had started to form on the small of her back. Then she saw them- in the doorway. Relief flooded over her. It looked as if there were some sort of trouble happening. The girls looked pretty heated over something, but from her distance she couldn't tell what they were saying or what the problem was. She had heard that the new bouncers were assholes, but her friends were on the list so... what could the problem have been? Confused, Lacey glanced over to John and nodded to him- a silent plea for his help.

The tall blonde gave her a short nod and slipped out of the booth.Prowling his way though the crowd to stand over the bouncer, glancing between him and the pissed off looking redhead, John cleared his throat. "Let's keep it that way." The girls were coming in fine now, and John blushed slightly at having forced his way through the crowd to come to the rescue of a group of women who obviously could handle themselves. "Everything alright?" He asked in a call over the music so that Amber could hear him. "You guys are with Lace, right? She's in the booth!" His voice was nearly eaten by the music, but he hoped that they could hear him, or at least understand by his pointing toward Lacey. Lacey waved from the booth and grinned widely. They had made it, and everything was perfect.

---

After Lacey's set was over she came down from the booth and snaked her way through the crowd to find her friends. There were so many people there it was hard to keep her eyes on them from the booth. The skinny ginger forced her way through the crowd until she found Amber,the girls, and Sam- at which point she let out a squeal and threw her arms around her best friend. "What did you think!?" Her tone was shrill with excitement. "I've got sweat literally pouring off my back!" Lacey laughed and blushed instantly, adding, "That's disgusting, isn't it?" Waving her hand in the air to clear the conversation of sweaty backs she decided to change the subject. Leaning closer to Amber so that only the redhead could hear, she added, "Did Nate show up?" Lacey knew how much Amber wanted to see the boy, and after she asked she stood on her tip toes to look out over the crowd as best she could- searching for the boy's dark head. It was useless- there were far too many boys with dark hair in the dark room.

As she was looking, her own eyes scanned for someone she had been hoping to see. Oscar. He was her best guy friend of the group, and she had been so excited to see him. Maybe he had better things to do? It was her insecurities again. She ran her fingers through the end of her ponytail, trying to figure out why she had such a bad feeling in her gut. Pulling herself back to reality, she turned her attention back to Amber and her friends, forcing a smile to light up her face. "So, have you guys seen everyone else?" This was directed towards the group of girls. "I tried looking from the booth, but I lost you guys. There are so many people here!"

"Um, I mean we can hang out at my place for a little while."

Charlie turned to look at Briton his heart fluttering slightly at the invitation. A smile crept its way across the dark haired blonde's face as he blocked out anything else the boy next to him said further. Staring at Briton's profile the small smile Charlie had been wearing slipped away. His heart picked up speed slightly as butterflies began to take flight in his stomach. He was going to Briton's house alone. Just them. No Oscar, just them. What would he say. What would he do? The sudden stand still of the car did nothing to help his anxiety as Briton exited the car. Biting his lip Charlie slowly followed Briton into the old apartment.

Walking up the staircase Charlie's footsteps looked slow and sluggish compared to Briton's quick pace up the wooden steps. Looking at the dyed blonde's back Charlie tried to think of something to say that would end the comfortable silence the two had made since they entered the building. Yet came up with nothing as Briton held the door open for him.

"Sorry it's kinda messy in here."

Charlie looked around the place, the butterflies in his stomach still jumpy and lively, and almost laughed at Briton's comment. If this is what he called 'messy' then there was no way he would ever show Briton his house.

Continuing to follow after the green eyed host Charlie tiptoed through the house feeling despite their friendship like an intruder, like he didnt belong at this quiet boys house with his loud and playful personality. Stopping at the doorway to Briton's room he watched as the teen kicked his shoes off and pulled out a chair for his guest before plopping down on his bed. The butterflies in stomach only multipled as he awkwardly stood at the doorway his blue eyes flickering from the chair to his right foot that had despite his nerves made it at least six inches in the room.

You have been in bedrooms before. Tons of them. Heck you have even been in beds. This is no differnt. Charlie reminded himself, as he tried to coax himself into his friends bedroom.

Letting out an almost unoticeable breath, Charlie 'cooly' swaggered into the untidy room. Ignoring the now flesh crazed butterflies he sat down in the computer chair and smiled lazily at his friend.

"I'm fine." He nodded responding to Briton's earlier question. Leaning his elbows on his knees Charlie let his eyes fully roam around the room. "What do you want to do, I'm cool with anything."

I'm cool with literally anything Charlie thought as his eyes returned to the boy in front of him. If you want to just sit here and look at each other I'll be okay with it. He bit his lip sheepishly, ashamed at how much he just wanted to kiss Briton at the moment for no apparent reason.

Pushing a strand of hair out of his eyes, Charlie decided to avert his eyes from the temptation in front of him that he was disappointed to call his friend. He really didnt want do something he would regret later.

Cora Donovan

---

Briton found himself tilting, his head leaning towards one shoulder while he looked at Charlie, and quickly made an effort to straighten up once more. Something seemed off about him, like, he wasn't quite feeling himself, or just not acting right. Almost.... awkward... Which was hardly something Briton saw in this outgoing friend of his. Perhaps it was just that they were alone together. After all, it had been quite some time since they had ever done such a thing; such a long time, Briton wondered if they ever had just been the only two in a room. Not that Charlie really should have felt uncomfortable. They were friends, weren't they? Well...

"What do you want to do, I'm cool with anything." Charlie said, giving forth not a single contribution to finding something to kill time with. Briton's head fell back to it's tilted position, watching while Mr. Super-hot-playboy-who-could-have-any-girl-he-wanted-with-a-smile bit his lip sheepishly, pushed the hair out of his face as if he were shy.

Briton simply blinked a few times, his face completely blank, too distracted to try to meld that expression of his into any kind of emotion, and not even sure what emotion it should have been in the first place. Was he supposed to inquire about it? Was he supposed to ask if something was wrong because he was a friend? Surely, if it was the other way around in the situation, Briton wouldn't have wanted anyone to say anything if he were acting strange, but other people were different, weren't they? They liked attention and they didn't freeze up and feel their hearts beating too fast for comfort when they talked about themselves. They weren't scared of their enemies and friends alike, and they liked being thought of. It wasn't too hard, was it? He could just do it. Just ask Charlie if he felt okay. People asked that kind of thing all the time, it was practically small talk. Even two strangers could say it in passing if something seemed wrong, so why wouldn't any words come out of his mouth? He parted his lips; perhaps if he opened them up, the words would come out on their own, but rather he said something else.

"You're weird today."

Briton instantly regretted opening his mouth. He fidgeted, standing up from his bed for a moment only to take two steps away from it, kick one of the cans that were on the floor, and turn back towards the bed to crawl back onto it closer to where his TV remote and laptop were. He made careful to position himself so as not to smear any blood on the sheets, but at the same time, he reminded himself he had to change his sheets anyway, so it didn't matter. All his motions seemed too mechanical, too awkward, and here he was thinking Charlie was acting awkward. Took one to know one, wasn't that what people said all the time? Briton licked his lips, turning the TV on with his remote and lighting the dim room with a blue screen before opening up his laptop and waiting for it to start up and sync with the television.

"I um... uh..." He raked his hand through his hair to push it backwards from his face, continuing motions from the same hand a few more times while he swiftly tucked strands behind his ears. When there was no more to be done with his hair, his hand settled for picking at the hem of his jeans. "Uh.... That um.... came out wrong. Uh... Lets just watch a movie."

Briton quickly pulled up his video files, which was - contrary to his bedroom - was very neat and orderly, separated into different files for different series and different genres for movies. He took a glance over at Charlie a moment, hesitating while he tried to figure out what kind of movie would be the least irritating to the other boy, as if it would have been written across the guy's face or something. Biting his lip, he pulled open the SciFi folder and decided on the Fifth Element. That was a safe choice, right? Who didn't like the Fifth Element? Honestly. The duration of the movie was taken in silence, mostly; the occasional lean over to grab a new slice of pizza from the desk occurred, but Briton didn't really notice too much else. Sure, there was the occasional glance over to Charlie to see what his reactions were, or just to see what he was doing, and once or twice he might have caught Charlie glancing at him. He sort of wondered if that was a normal thing.

By the time the movie was winding down, and so was the time, and Bruce Willis was finally figuring out how to activate the stones, Briton stood from the bed. "I just gotta change my clothes, I almost forgot." He said, half to himself, but knowing full well that Charlie had heard him. He made the quick few steps to the dresser in the room and pulled out a pair of skinny jeans which had been cut off just above the knees after they'd ripped from falling once, and a grey tee shirt with a t-rex throwing up a rainbow across the front. He hesitated a moment, looking over at the back of Charlie's head before looking away again. It was okay, right? To get undressed behing your friend's back. People do that. Straight people do it. It doesn't matter, right? Totally not weird. He pulled his pants down first, tossing them away and pulling on the new pair, which openly displayed the tight, white bandaging on his knees. Luckily, he wasn't bleeding through the bandages just yet, and the stains on his pants hadn't left too many marks on the outside of the bandages either. He didn't really care too much about showing the wound anymore, after all. Really, it was only his friends he was hiding wounds from.

He hesitated with his hands on the hem of his shirt for a moment. What if Charlie looked behind him, even for a just a second, while Briton's shirt was off? Not that Briton was that uncomfortable with the idea of his body being seen as one would think. Sure, he was scrawny and small looking, delicate, and that was embarrassing, but so far, it seemed that Charlie only knew about the bullying from today. He wasn't yet aware of the bruising all over Briton's ribs from having been pushing into the metal bleaches outside yesterday. No one was, yet. And no one needed to be. He gritted his teeth. He would do it fast, he would just ignore it is Charlie said anything. He would hope Charlie would realize not to say anything this time if he saw anything.

Pulling off his shirt as quickly and gingerly as possible and tossing it in the same general direction of the pants he'd strewn, he snatched the new top and pulled it on. By the time the article of clothing was on his body, he couldn't be sure as to whether Charlie had looked at all or not. He really hoped it was "Or not," and moved on to change his socks, which had gotten blood on them earlier, out for some geeky-looking tube socks and shut his laptop as the credits began to roll. The TV would do automatic shut down later.

"Alright, come on," He finally spoke up, not bothering to look back at Charlie before prying open the creaking wooden door to his room and exiting into the much brighter rest of the apartment. He didn't look back until he was at the door and pulling on his shoes, grabbing his keys. Why did everything feel so awkward? Something just felt so odd, and he wasn't sure why. Shouldn't he feel comfortable with all his friends? Like he was with Oz? No, no. He was only comfortable with Oz because he had a stupid-ass fucking crush on the dude. But why couldn't he just relax for two seconds? Was it really that hard? He was sure it was just this day. It was so terrible, so horrible. He couldn't wait for it to be over, and yet here he was again, considering going inside that stupid party since Violet had wanted to talk to him. As if she couldn't just talk to him any other time, but he supposed it couldn't be helped. Once Violet was stuck on something, there really wasn't any changing her mind.

Briton pushed through the door and down the stairs, just about at the same speed he'd gone on the way up, not bothering with the door, seeing as it would lock the moment it was closed by Charlie after him, anyway. At least it made forgetting to lock up a lot easier, but it didn't help when forgetting the keys, certainly. He unlocked the car, slid into the driver's side, and as soon as Charlie had gotten in as well, back out of the driveway and headed to that stupid-ass party.

. . .

I don't want to go in, he thought, staring down the groups and crowds standing in the darkening front lawn and pushing through the front door. The music was loud, loud enough to hear from where he sat in the car, parked about a house down across the street. Fast paced, loud sounds, paired with a thick crowd of people he didn't like. Why was it that his friends thought this was such a good idea? He sunk down in his seat a moment, staring over at the flashing lights from the large house. It was a big party. The cops would be around any minute, right? All he had to do was go in, let Violet say whatever the heck she wanted to, maybe see about talking to Oz, and then it would be all over! There was no rule about leaving early, either, now was there?

Sighing, and much to his own displeasure, he popped open the door and slid out of the car moments after Charlie had gotten out. "I'm only going in for a few minutes!" Briton huffed, shutting the door and locking the car before turning and near-storming off towards the front door. "I'll probably leave early, too, so just text me if you need a ride home later," he continued, looking back at Charlie a moment before turning away and quickening his pace. The quicker he was in, the quicker he was out, he supposed.

His trail wandered a bit, before he started to notice a familiar face or two. Ducking under flailing arms and winding around meat-heads twice his size without being noticed at all, he finally got close enough to make out who from the group had finally arrived. He arrived just in time to hear an energetic "hey there!" came from Cora, who, having not been at milkshakes earlier, was a bit of a surprise to see, actually. There was Amber, Lacey.... Sam... It didn't look like Nate and Oz were there, though, but Briton tried to tell himself he wasn't going to really wait around just for another stupid chance to talk to Oz, as tempting as it was.

"Hey guys," Briton uttered, too quiet really for the words to be heard over the music, though he was sure when his friends saw him that they knew he'd greeted them, at the very least. When he spoke again, he tried to make his voice a bit louder, almost tried to yell, though yelling wasn't really something he did very often at all. "I showed up, against my better nature. But I promise I'm not staying."

He huffed. The music was loud, throbbing at his skull and making him want to claw at his ears until he could no longer hear it. His heart pounded swiftly, and the feeling seemed to be too high in his chest. It was hard to breath the air, filled with sweat and booze and everyone else's breath. Too many loomed above him, and he constantly found himself leaning closer to his friends at some point or another because of someone brushing by his back or coming too close. He tried his best to look nonchalant, hands in his pockets and shoulders slouched, but every muscle was tense. His eyes constantly darting from one passer-by to the next, nervous about whether their attentions would waver from what they were doing or not. He wasn't comfortable. He wasn't safe. He needed to get this over with.

"So where's-" He began, his eyes changing from drifting to searching, before he noticed Violet merging a little more towards the group with a beer in her hand. Stepping in between people and getting over to her finally, he elbowed her. "There you are. You said you wanted to talk to me about something, right?" He flinched while the tone to the music jumped suddenly, stepping closer to her and not caring if his eyes wandered around any more. He was too on-edge, he couldn't help it. He didn't want to be here, he had a bad feeling about it all.

Placing his styrofoam cup on the ground, Oz shifted and turned around on the couch until he was lounging over the back, turning his full attention on Nate. The scene might seem a bit bizarre by most people's standards, Nate standing by the window, the setting sun casting a rather dramatic light effect on the scene, and Oz hanging off of the back of the couch like some discarded toy that had been thrown then forgotten by a careless child. But to Oz, this was a breath of normality in the past few strange months, and a pleased grin found itself settling on his face as Nate managed a smile that gradually grew larger. Everyone, in Oz's opinion, looked better with a smile on their face, but no one more so than his best friend whose smiles had become a rarer and rarer occurrence lately.

It was like the smile flicked a switch in Oz's mind, his uncharacteristic anxiety deflating and any tension held in his lanky frame vanishing away. This was a situation he knew, a situation he felt comfortable in; sitting around Nate's house, chatting about something, however serious, and it might not be exactly like before, but it was close enough to put him completely at ease.

"You seem so sure that you'd be kicking their asses," Oz huffed a laugh, stretching languidly. It was hard to imagine Nate fighting anyone, especially Briton's main antagonists, glorified jocks with the high school equivalent of bulging muscles. Still, the chance to talk things out was certainly a step in the right direction, which was, presumably, the direction that did not involve violence. And who knew? Maybe things could work themselves out the Oz way, the nice, peaceful way that only involved fists in the form of fist bumps. Okay, so it wasn't terribly likely, but a boy could dream, couldn't he?

"And if not, then we get a little more...'creative' about our approach."

"Nate," He groaned, drawing out his name in a faux disappointed voice. Playful smirk or not, a "creative approach" wasn't something that Oz would be looking forward to. Creative did not bode well for anyone involved, especially if those involved were his highly unpredictable friends and a handful of teenagers who got their jollies from picking on a sweetheart like Briton. Add in the alcohol and general adrenaline that characterized the parties Lacey tended to DJ at, and you had a recipe for disaster there.

However, any hint of disappointment vanished immediately with the announcement that dinner was ready. More like a dog than a person, Oz instantly perked up, face brightening considerably as he scrambled to his feet. Only Nate's voice stopped him and Oz let out another laugh. It was, sadly enough, less of an exaggeration than most people would imagine. If one thing could put a skip in Oz's lazy steps, it was food. More specifically, Nate's mother's food. What could he say? The woman could cook.

With a considerable more amount of dignity then he actually possessed, he replied, "Well, maybe I'm growing up, Nathan. You know, maturing." He kept up the facade for maybe half a second before laughing at the absurdity and taking off down the hall and towards the kitchen. Maturing. Right. Nice he might be, but for all of his calmness and patience, mature didn't quite fit in with the enigma that was Oscar Glass.

Dinner was perfect. It wasn't anything fancy, of course, and Mitzy was incessantly begging for food(which wasn't completely her fault given the fact that Oz insisted on feeding her bits and pieces from his own plate), but it was still perfect. Nate, Oz, and Nate's mother sat around the table, and the conversation flowed almost without pause in between bites of pasta and, in Oz's case, sips of milk. It hadn't been too terribly long since he'd been in this situation, but it felt like ages as he caught up with Nate's mother and Nate himself. For that time, he felt at home, really at home.

After dinner, as the minutes passed quickly by as the conversation from dinner continued in the living room, Oz took a moment to pull out his cellphone and text his parents to tell them that he'd be back late that night. He didn't need permission, not really. With his sisters' shenanigans, Oz often got lost in the fold, allowed to do whatever in the belief that he'd be a good boy and not cause any trouble. Which was fine, just fine, but didn't stop his smile from dropping for just a moment when his mother replied with a quick "Okay, dear, have fun!", not even bothering to ask where her only son was off to. His stepfather's reply was marginally better, at least asking when he'd be home and if he'd need to be picked up. Any lingering disappointment disappeared when he looked up from his phone, however, and slipped back into the conversation as if it had never happened. Because it was fine. Just fine. His parents loved him and trusted him and that was what mattered. That was all that mattered.

The party was already in full motion when they arrived, music almost imperceptible due to the noise from the crowd within and around the building, but the beat was thrumming so loudly that Oz could sweat that he felt it in his bones. It was difficult enough to stick together let alone make their way through the thriving crowd, people pressing in on them from all sides. To find anyone in the room was almost impossible. Almost. It was at times like these that Oz's height and disposition came into play. Seemingly ignorant of the gyrating bodies of those dancing or the simple movements of the crowd around him, pressing in on all sides in such a way that anyone might feel claustrophobic, Oz craned his neck, green eyes searching for familiar faces in the room. It just so happened that, rather unfortunately, the first familiar faces he found belonged to people he didn't quite want to see. Ryan Chaffon and, even more unfortunately, Vic Rockford were off with their own respective groups of friends to one side, probably laughing loudly or maybe just trying to carry on a conversation, but the noise was stolen away by the ruckus within the room. It was like fate was laughing at him, smirking down upon Oz in particularly as if to say, 'Your move.'

It was then that Oz made a significant and quite possiby stupid choice. They had to talk to them eventually, there was no getting around that given what had happened earlier and the following conversation, and who knew if he'd manage to spot them again later on in the night? Besides, maybe it would work out. Maybe if they just had a chat, everything would turn out fine and the party might be even better knowing that everything had come to a peaceful resolution. With that idealist delusion in mind, Oz grabbed Nate by the wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

"Hey, I see Ryan and Vic over there," Oz said, gesturing with one hand towards the group, voice significantly louder than normal to be heard over the din. "If we're going to talk to them, let's talk now, okay? Then we can just have fun afterwards." Fun. Afterwards. Ha.

And there we were. At the party I had said I wouldn't be going to not even 4 hours ago. Well, I guess it wasn't so bad. Save for the annoying music that could be heard from 2 blocks down the road. And the equally, if not-- more annoying people twisting and bumping around to the lame soundtrack blasting their senses away. Then there was the booze. Yup, plenty of that, I could see. Anyone who wasn't dancing in the middle of it all was off to the sides, drinking and hitting on their peers. Oz and I made our way through the first wave of people relatively easy, but what came next seemed impossible to navigate if you're looking for specific people. Our friends were nowhere to be seen at the moment, and not even Oz in all his tall glory was able to spot any of them. I always figured it was the poor lighting. God, what was this? A house party, or a nightclub...? Even with Lacey's talented DJ skills, I couldn't get over just how incredibly loud it all was. How were you supposed to talk to people without screaming your vocal cords dry?

Just as I managed to catch sight of a short brunette that looked an awful lot like Violet, Oz snatched my wrist and held me back, directing my attention to two very specific people hanging out with their friends in a nice little corner of the room. Vic and Ryan. It was almost too perfect. The couple of asshats weren't alone, meaning they had their reputations on the line should someone decide to mess with them. Unfortunately for them, that someone happened to be me. Well, and Oz, but I pretty much already knew how this was likely going to go down with him at my side. Fingers crossed!

"Oh-- oh, yeah! I seem em!" I said. "Good eye, Oz!" Patting him on the shoulder with a smile, I decided to head their way rather than in the direction the brunette was walking off to. Better to get this over with sooner rather than later. Although, I wasn't too sure I knew what it was that I would be doing at first... I suppose I figured on talking with them to start things off, since that's what Oz and I did. "H-Hey!" I yelled at them with a wave as we approached. "How's it going, guys?" It took the two of them a moment to figure out who we were-- well, more of who I was than Oz, but like I said; poor lighting. After seeming to remember my name after giving me a 'bro point' that came along with a "Heyyy!", Ryan slapped my hand in friendly greeting.

"Uhhh, Jake, right?" he said, giving me a smile as though he and I had been best friends since grade school.

"Uh, no! Actually, it's Nate!" I yelled back, now gesturing towards my tall friend. "And this is Oz! His name is Oscar, but we just call him Oz, cuz' he's a total wizard, yo!" Wow, where the hell did that come from...?

"Ah, bitchin'!" yelled Ryan, giving Oz the same friendly hand slap that Vic gave myself. "Killer party, right? Haha!" As if to emphasize his fascination with the event, Ryan looked around with a great deal of upper body language, to which I just nodded emphatically.

"So what brings you guys to this crazy zoo, huh?" said Vic after nodding along in agreement with everything Ryan was saying, taking a drink from his beer while he was at it. "Don't normally see you two coming to this kinda scene, or am I being stupid?" You're being stupid alright, but that's neither here nor there at the moment...

"Yeah, we know the DJ! Lacey Harvelle! You know her?" I shouted back, taking hold of one of the beers Ryan had offered me and Oz. To be honest, it was a total reflex. I was the last person at that party, save for maybe Briton, who was looking to get drunk... Trust me. I am not a happy drunk...

"Uh, hell yeah we know her!" said Vic after exchanging a rather suggestive look with his buddy Ryan. "Ain't no way we don't know about a fine piece of ass like that, haha!" These guys were getting on my nerves more and more every passing second I spent LOOKING at them, nevermind talking to. But I calmed my urge to walk away; I was hellbent on seeing this through. For Briton.

"Yyyhup! That's the one!" I yelled, exchanging a roll of the eyes with Oz as Vic and Ryan laughed and slapped me on the shoulder. At the same time, no less. "Anyway, who invited you two? The same?" The next thing I did was even dumber than accepting the damn thing in the first place; I took a drink. Resisting the urge to spit it back out at the two jerks in front of me, no matter how much they deserved it, I ended up forcing myself to swallow it. If I wasted anymore time dawdling about with Briton's bullies, I was afraid I might have taken a few more.

"Heh, why do you ask?" yelled Ryan, now giving me an inquisitive smile. "I mean, we're here, aren't we? What does it matter?" He threw Vic a humorous grin and turned back to me.

"Well," I yelled back, giving them a light shrug. "It's just that I happen to be really good friends with Lace, and I know for a fact that she wouldn't knowingly invite two of the people who regularly beat up on a friend of hers!" Aaaand another sip. It was strange, but with every word that came out of my mouth, I felt like I had less and less control of my own body. My mind was there, sure, but it seemed to have little to no control over my actions. It was starting to worry me at the point of realizing this.

"Heh..." scoffed Ryan. "I don't 'beat up' on people, for one. Okay? It's all in good fun; they know that." Another laugh. "And two, you're gonna have to be a little more specific about just who it is you're talkin' about. I joke around with a looot of people at school, y'know." Oh, yeah. Believe me, jackass, I know. We all know. You just happened to "joke around" with one too many this time... Taking another sip of my drink, much to what I assumed was Oscar's bewilderment, although I didn't see on account of not having eyes in the back of my head, I nodded in response before answering with the words that would send this little confrontation directly south in a matter of seconds.

"Briton. Hadings." I said clearly, making sure both parts of the name were each heard as they were intended. This made both Vic and Ryan's smiles instantly vanish. They now appeared to be in "serious mode", or so I figured they probably called it when they were alone together. Their reaction to the name made me instinctively snort with a small chuckle as I placed my free hand inside of my pocket, feeling the silver pocket watch within it.

"Lacey's friends with that...freak?" asked Ryan, still holding up his serious face. I merely kept smiling and moved my now slightly damp-with-sweat bangs from my eyes with a brush of my thumb.

"And so am I." I said back. "Oz too." I added with a nod up at my gangly friend. Giving up the fake smile, I shrugged. "Look, we just wanna ask you to lay off him from now on, okay? He's never done anything to you, so..." I paused, shrugging again. "Think you can pick on someone your own size for once? Just an idea!" Finishing up with a nod as if to say "Yup, that's all I got", I let Oz take a crack at it while we waited for their response, not that I needed it. I was already certain that this wouldn't end the Oz way... Even with the man himself standing right next to me with one foot in the door. And that's when it started getting a bit heated. There was a pause between the changing of the tracks just behind Oz and I, and it wasn't until the next song started playing that Ryan removed his rather transparent mask and spoke up.

"Heh... How about you and 'Briton' go fuck yourselves." he said, leaning in a bit closer so as to make sure only me and Oz heard. "If you want us to stop giving Briton what he deserves, then tell him to stop being such a PUSSY." Well, that wasn't a very nice way to accept my request, now was it? That remark made my shoulders drop, and a sigh escape my lips. Now obvious that Plan B was the only reliable method towards managing to walk away with a win after all, I furrowed my eyebrows slightly, and chose to try something new; provocation.

"Hm..." I hummed softly, my pause likely not having even been heard thanks to the loud bass vibrating the walls around us. "Are you sure Briton is the pussy here? Because, the way I see it, you two are the only ones who fit that description; picking on someone who refuses to fight back...? Isn't that something only the weak do? You might as well punch a tree and call yourselves the champions of the forest!" 'Sorry for that one, Briton...' I thought to myself, feeling guilty for sounding as though I were making fun of my friend for not defending himself against his bullies, even if he weren't there to hear it.

"Oh yeah?! I'll show you weak--!!" shouted Vic, taking a step at me, only to be held back by Ryan, who seemed to find what I said to be rather intriguing. It was too easy to lure these guys into a trap. I hadn't counted on Ryan holding back his substantially larger friend, but that was only a minor bump along the road to victory.

"Hold on, Vic." he said, cracking a smile as he studied me. "Earlier you mentioned that we should pick on someone our own size, but...all I see are you..." He paused, pointing from me, and now to Oz. "...and Ronald Weasley over here. I'm afraid you're too small, and he's, well...too big. Wouldn't that just be unfair all around?" Clearly this guy held himself in some kind of holier-than-thou light, because he seemed to truly believe that he was bigger than me. Truth was, we were about the same height and overall weight. "Now...WE aren't going to accept such an unfair challenge... Unless, of course...YOU want to step up to the plate, Nathan?" he finished, adding emphasis to his little punchline as he laughed alongside his ape of a friend. I waved off Oz's attempts at trying to get me to walk away from this before it was too late. I wasn't going to do that. Not when I was about to win this. Well, somewhat...

"Ummm, okay!" I said immediately, my eyes looking to the right as I held up a long shrug, acting as though I were either bluffing, or just really, really stupid. This made the two of them stop laughing faster than they started up. Vic quickly scowled angrily at me before slapping the drink out of my hand, much to my delight.

"You think this is a fucking GAME?!" he shouted, taking another step at me. This time, Ryan didn't hold him back. "You KNOW I'd knock you on your ass, punk!" Flexing his rather large arms with what appeared to be some sort of warm-up exercise, he gritted his teeth at me like some kind of hybrid between a dog and a gorilla. By now, our little spout had drawn the attention of a few people who were nearby chatting with their own friends.

"Won't know for sure unless you try!" I shouted back, waving off Oz once again; this time actually pushing him away to the side, for I knew what was coming next. In one swift motion, Vic Rockford's giant fist came hurdling towards me. Like most things that threatened my life this day and age, I saw it slow down to incredible speeds. Obviously time itself didn't slow down around us, and it sure wasn't Vic who decided to hold back a little, but my ability to perceive the incoming of my surroundings was almost to the level of supernatural at this point. Of course, my current body wasn't up to par with its eyes, although I was more than capable of either dodging, blocking or reversing this thug's blow without much trouble. But time was running short, and my window of opportunity was coming to a close. Now it was time for a choice; I could either A., totally own this asshole at his own game in front of all these people, announcing to the entire party that Briton was thereby under my protection and there was nothing anybody could do about it, or B., let this guy totally knock me flat so as not to come off to my friends as a super suspicious weirdo after somehow managing to fend off someone as large and terrifying as Vic Rockford.

Just as time was about to run out, I came to one hell of a conclusion with my inner self: Hey, why not do both?

"Argh!!" I exclaimed as the sound of Vic's fist colliding with my skull flooded my entire brain. I felt the grasping hands of my friend Oz as he tried to catch me but couldn't. Before I would smack into anything on my way down, my foot happened to snag onto the cord leading to the speakers that were connected to the system providing the music, causing a sudden and very dead silence to fill the room. Well, almost silent, anyway. The sound of my back meeting with the side of the DJ's stage was more than loud enough to turn a few heads in our direction. The stage having saved me from the fall being slightly dented in, I pushed myself off of it with a hand, only to be caught by Oz, who was once again likely saying something about quitting while we were ahead. Truth was, I couldn't make out anything but the ticking of my watch while my head was ringing so loudly, so I was a bit unsure of what might have been said around me. The ringing finally subsiding, I managed to make out the sounds of Vic and Ryan laughing their asses off, damn near out of breath, or so it seemed.

"That was priceless!! HAHAHAHA!! Your really stood your ground there, didn't you, bitch!" guffawed Ryan, patting Vic on the back. "Why don't you just go home, Tate-- or NATE, whatever the hell your name was!" Laughing again at my expense, Ryan managed to get a few other people laughing. That was fine-- no, it was perfect.

"Urghh..." I grunted, finally finding my footing once more as I gave my head a little shake. "Hey! I'm still standing, aren't I?!" I yelled back at him, still not used to the near silence within the room; the music still not kicking back in just yet. Giving Oz a friendly pat for trying to catch me, as well as a look that said "I'm fine, don't worry about it.", in case he was still worrying.

"Oh-ho! Ohhh, I'm afraid he's right, Vic! You said you were gonna knock him on his ass-- better see it through, don't you think?" said Ryan, humorously. Giving him a chuckle of his own, Vic stepped forward again.

"Hold it!" I shouted, the palm of my hand prominently displayed before me. "I have a proposition for you, Vic." Curving a smile of my own, I waited to hear what the giant would say to this.

"A propo-what...?" replied the big oaf.

"He means he wants to make you a deal, you dumb fuck!" said Ryan after slapping a hand over his eyes with a laugh in regards to his friend's ignorance, and then harder at the idea of me putting up a wager.

"Oh... Alright, what? If you're trying to get outta your beating, punk, then you can forget it." said Vic, flexing his arms once again. Huh, and here I was under the impression that the two of them "didn't beat up on people... So much for that statement.

"If I can pin your back to the ground within 3 seconds of your next blow, then you have to leave Briton alone from here on out." I said, holding up 3 fingers. You know, to show that I meant business. "What d'ya say? You up for the challenge?" Ryanmade a light chuckle at those words, still thinking that I was all talk, however found it strange that I would make such an outrageous bet in front of all these people. But before he could say anything to Vic, the man in question agreed in earnest.

"You're on!" he said, laughing at me.

"Great! Now no take-backs! Unless you wanna look like a total bitch in front of all these people for not holding up your end of the deal~" I sung at him, holding up a finger to add insult to injury. Of course, this just made him laugh.

"Tch, whatever! Let's just get on with it, shit-stain!" he yelled back, taking another step forward.

"Well wait, we gotta shake on it first." I said with a smile, holding out my left hand for him to accept. This was the moment when Ryan realized I was neither bluffing NOR stupid. But before he could tell Vic otherwise, it was already too late.

"Heheh, sure..." chuckled Vic, extending his right hand to grab hold of my left. And that was when the dumbass did exactly what I knew he would; he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward him. Thanks to him pulling me into his range, there was no longer enough room for him to get the same amount of strength into his attack as before. On top of that, the momentum of the fight was against him. All I had to do was lean forward so that his left arm went over my right shoulder, plant my free hand against his chest, hook my already extended leg around his right, pull back with it and push forward with my hand. And just like that, Vic Rockford was pinned to the ground in only 2 very quick seconds. Of course, I acted as though it was nothing more than a total fluke; my yell of the word "Whoa" having planted that idea in most of the heads in the audience. And, just to make sure it sold, I stood up and clasped my hands to my head with wide eyes.

"Holy crap, I won...!" I yelled, breathing hard, then turning my upper body left and right to look at everyone else, as if to say CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT SHIT?! Needless to say, the whole crowd erupted in a large amount of drunken cheers and woos. I clasped hands with Oz, further trying to convey that it was pure accident that I managed to pin Vic down just as I had wagered I would. Jumping up and shouting his frustration at what I had accomplished, Vic shut the crowd up almost immediately. He stepped up to me again, only to stop short upon seeing Oz closer to me than before. Blinking, he looked back at me and started shouting again.

"That was a load of shit, and you know it! A total fluke!" he yelled. Jabbing his finger at me.

"Well of course it was!" I said. "But a win is still a win, dude! And fortunately for me -- unfortunate for you -- I won." I let out a nervous laugh, still acting shaken up over the whole spectacle. "And you know what the wager was~" At first ready to refute our earlier agreement, Ryan chose to cut him off, wearing a rather sour expression himself.

"He beat you fair and square, Vic." he said, now walking up to meet me by his side. "Own up to it, or else you're nothing more than a punk like him." He put great emphasis on the word, likely trying to convey that it wasn't over with just that. Conceding, albeit rather begrudgingly, Vic let out a huff of air and flung his arm up before turning away from me and Oz. The scene finally dying down and the music kicking back up thanks to someone reconnecting the cord I had pulled out by accident, all seemed well, until Ryan stepped up next to me and spoke in a low tone so that only I could hear.

"Live it up while you still can, Nathan." he began, his voice practically trembling with anger at my arrogance. "Just know that I'm not as dumb as Vic." The words that followed instantly left me stunned. "I'll say it again, only a little more clearly this time: you want me to stop messing with that little faggot Briton, then you're better off just telling him to stop being such a pussy. Because..." Pausing before his final sentence, I realized that I had made a terrible mistake that night at the party. One that I couldn't take back.. "... You didn't make that bet with me..."

I only managed to stop one of Briton's bullies... Or so it seemed. At the time, I didn't think even Vic Rockford would stoop so low as to bully someone through their personal life. I clearly underestimated the man's sense of humility... As well as his choice in targets. But more on that later...

Giving my shoulder a hard nudge with his own, Ryan waved to Vic, mumbling something along the lines of "This party turned to shit, let's get out of here.", and left with him. I was practically shaking with fear at what I might have just set in motion; my mind immediately beginning to think of every possible outcome that could be traced back to this very moment. I instantly hated myself again. Everything that had happened over the last few minutes felt like a total dream. Things weren't normal for me and my friends, they weren't fixed... And yet, somehow, I managed to fool myself into thinking that, even for just a fleeting moment at a loud party, life was simple again. I knew I would pay for my mistake later on, but worse than just that; so too would my friends...

And there was White Knight Amber, to the rescue. Vi heard her confronting Maybe-Jeff, stopping him cold in his tracks. For that, the Super Hero was thankful. She didn't want to have to deal with him. This was the perfect opportunity to get three goals under wraps. Three goals that'd, hopefully, help her deal with life in a more positive manner. If it all went well. She took a liberal sip of the beer, letting the alcohol awash over her small body, and instantly felt the need to pee. One of the guys in the 'drinking corner' so to speak started laughing over something incredibly stupid - what the heck, anyways? What's the damn point? Violet pushed him out of the way, taking another gulp of the strong, bitter concoction, and made her way to Amber. Vi finished that can of beer, crinkling it up and chucking it who knows were - grabbing another on the way to the redhead, and started sipping that one too. She also felt the strange feeling - some strange... not quite a headache, but something was floating around in her psyche.

Sam was there, kinda looking between her and someone else- presumably Paige. Did he want something? Well, whatever. He can come to her if he needs anything.

Three goals. Three objectives. Would it really be so hard? First, she'd have to stalk Vic and Ryan as they went home after this party. Make sure she finds out where they live. Commit it to memory. Then find out their schedule, when they're alone. Then... alone and vulnerable, Violet will sweep down upon them with her brother's baseball bat. The damn thing was going to finally come to good use. She'd beat them down; she'd break their spines. Smash them to bits. That'd be the end of that.

The second goal was to seduce Nate. Once and for all - he had to look at her the way she was: a woman. Despite the brash talking, the fighting, she was still a girl. And because of that... she wanted recognition. Anything, from the guy she loved or liked or whatever. She wasn't sure which one it is - but for sure there's something. And that something was what pushed her affection even more. He was the only one for her. The one closest to understanding her. No one else would do, not at all. Seduce him. Make him see her as something other than just 'one of the guys'.

Maybe even fuck him. There had to be an empty room somewhere upstairs, right? She'd ask Max later. vi had an odd face at that - and started feeling hints of a... buzzing feeling at the back of her head.

The final goal was to find Briton. Tell him that she's got his back, the little wimp. Because she does, from now on. And, cursing angrily, she knew that she should have had it the whole time. Super Hero Violet had no excuse for letting it reach the point of actually causing him physical pain. She'd have to pay them back i- don't get side tracked, the Super Hero part's back in objective one. She'd come clean to him too. Tell him about the fights. That she's a super hero. That he can count on her. Partly because, maybe by opening up, he'd open up more to everyone else, and partly because... she wanted recognition. To be seen as a hero.

Don't all heroes want that, deep down?

"Amber." Violet nodded her head at the redhead, pulling her aside. This had to be dealt with before it messed with anything else. Did Vi really have any option but to come clean to her? Seems like this night would be one of revelations, wouldn't it? "Hey, uh. Let's talk." Vi gestured to her hand, giving Amber a significant look in the eyes - hopefully she understood.

No one was listening in. It was now or never, really. And well, for getting Maybe-Jeff off her back, didn't Amber deserve the truth? She'd... she'd support her, right? A tiny doubt formed in Violet's mind. What if Amber secretly thought of her as an outsider, just like all the others? What if-

"So." She murmured awkwardly, scratching at her throat. "Uh. You're probably wondering why I'm... my hand. The blood. That stuff, right?"

It looked as if Amber nodded, but Violet couldn't really be sure; she wasn't even looking directly at her anymore, instead staring intently into the corner of the room where a spider lay. Damnit. The buzz was making it hard to really think. She felt her face, feeling the heat rising up.

"I'm... a vigilante. Like. I see bad shit, and I beat down on the assholes that started it. The asses that deserve it. Because who else will stop it? The cops -" Vi thought bitterly back on what Rope Guy did to her, and unconsciously started shaking. Fucking Rope Guy. The cops didn't even bother to look for her. And his taunts, 'they'll never believe you'... it was too true. They'd side with him, and spurn the outsider. Of course they would. More doubts swamped Violet; she didn't want to deal with Amber possibly rejecting her.

"Yeah, so." She finished quickly, almost hurriedly. "I'm a fighter. Just got back from one before we went for milkshakes. So don't worry about it anymore, okay?"

With that, Violet quickly left the redhead, only to run into Briton. Time for a second confession, wasn't it? She felt his elbow brush against her side. "There you are. You said you wanted to talk to me about something, right?" Briton seemed edgy. At unease. Almost as if searching for something. That sparked Vi to take cursory glances around her - where the hell were Vic and Ryan? Where they even at the party? She felt a restless need to get moving, to pinpoint where they were and beat them down. Maybe even tonight. Why not? Who cares if they were together? Max had to have some kind of weapon around here.

"Ryan Chaffon. Vic Rockwell." Vi said angrily, almost spitting. "Fuck. Just fuck. I'll wipe'em out, Briton. I'm a vigilante after all." It was easier to say it a second time. Vi didn't really care why. "I'm a fighter. A Super Hero. I kick shithead asses." She was saying this with gritty, fierce anger. Her need for violence was rising every second. Her face was almost manic; out of control. Was this because of the alcohol? "So I'm sorry, Briton. Really. Shoulda known that shit was bad for you. Someone like me should've kept you safe. Stopped it from happening at all."

She coughed then, face contorting. She was red, either from the beer, or from anger.

"Just lettin' you know, okay? I've got your back from now on." Her fist clenched harder - nails digging into flesh. "No. One. Will. Lay. Another. Fucking. Hand. On. You."

"This party turned to shit, let's get out of here."

That voice. Hot fire burned in Vi's eyes that she only partially kept down. She glanced around - finally seeing the large form of Vic, heading for the door. This was her chance. This was her goddamn chance, or else they'd be gone. Damn it all. She didn't have enough time to tend to Nate - she'd have to set that aside, then. He'd probably be relieved, too, wouldn't he? Didn't like her, anyways. So she had to do the only thing she was good at.

Violence. But not here; not at the party.

"Gotta go." Violet said with a dark scowl, before drunkenly stumbling towards the bullies, purposely tripping and wrapping one arm around each one's shoulders to support her falling form.

"Hey, wh-"

"Hey hey, so." Violet drawled. "Can I come with? This party is-" A goofy, unfocused grin. She hoped her act worked. It better work. "A drag. It's draggin's me down, right? Get it?" She let out an awkward laugh as both boys looked between each other.

"Hell, why not." Ryan said finally. "C'mon Vic, let's put her in the car. She's drunk, anyways."

"Might as well get somethin' good outta this party." Vic replied, and they more or less supported Violet as she made herself stumble and step forward badly, mumbling a 'sweet, thanks' in return.

It was on now. She'd wipe'em out tonight. This would end tonight. Vi'd make sure of that. At any cost.

"Ryan Chaffon. Vic Rockwell." Violet's words came out, seething with an anger that even Briton could detect. From the moment their names passed through her lips, he felt his body hunch. It was making him nervous, making him scared; he felt small and insignificant compared to what he knew for Violet was an overwhelming desire to beat the shit out of these guys. The only thoughts that came to him were along those lines of 'what have I done? I should have never said anything, even if they were prying!' Much to his worry, she continued her rant, which began to seep into the pit of his gut and give him a terrible aching feeling down there, like he was going to be sick. "Fuck. Just fuck. I'll wipe'em out, Briton. I'm a vigilante after all."

A vigilante, huh? So that was what the girl was calling it. That was what she was calling all this irresponsible, unnecessary fighting. She couldn't just take care of her self? Couldn't leave things alone to take their own course? Why couldn't any of his friends be able to use a bit of their sense lately, it seemed? Putting herself, putting themselves, into a dangerous situation with not a single cause. None of this was effecting any of them, why would it matter? Why didn't they think Briton couldn't handle it on his own? He clenched his jaw while he watched the girl's facial expression. As if they could have taken the pain of all his tormentors, and he couldn't. Not once had he ever cried or broken down or screamed. He wasn't asking for any help, and here they were assuming he needed it. It was a recipe for disaster, wasn't it?

"I'm a fighter. A Super Hero. I kick shithead asses." She continued. His mind was distracted, while the music suddenly cut out, the room stood nearly still for a few moments while the thrusting beat had disappeared, though Violet in all her rage seemed to be too distracted to notice quite exactly what was going on. Briton vaguely searched the immediate area he could see, unable to notice much with so many heads above him, and so much distance between where he stood, and where a commotion of laughter and screeches seemed to be occurring. "So I'm sorry, Briton. Really. Shoulda known that shit was bad for you. Someone like me should've kept you safe. Stopped it from happening at all." Briton's eyes flew immediately back over to Violet, green glistening in the low lighting, emphasized only by how widely he held them open at her in all his nervousness and fear for what she was going to do. He found himself shaking his head. He had to stop this nonsense, he had to stop it right now! He opened his mouth to say something, but not a thing came out. He was finding himself at a loss, dumbfounded for anything inside his throat that could possibly come out.

She let out a cough, and almost on cue, the music had started back up, whatever technical difficulty having been fixed, and instantly causing Briton to jump once more. "Just lettin' you know, okay? I've got your back from now on." She said. "No. One. Will. Lay. Another. Fucking. Hand. On. You."

Briton took a step back from her, eyes still as wide as they could go. He didn't want this, he didn't want it at all! The last thing he wanted was to be protected, to have everyone fussing and worrying over him. They saw him so helplessly, they thought of him as a small, delicate thing that couldn't fend for itself. They weren't thinking of themselves, and in their blind rage at something they didn't understand, they weren't thinking of him either. He knew far better than to let these hotheads get involved, because by the time they figured out what was going on, all there was was "protect mode" and there just wasn't any time left for rational thinking. He heard something vaguely behind him, something that sounded much like on of his tormentors, and quickly made an attempt to step towards Violet, to grab onto her and stop her, to try and talk some sense into her before it was too late, before she did something stupid and got herself hurt! But it was already too late; Vi quickly evaded him, not even noticing his attempt to try and talk to him while she skirted around him with a small "Gotta go," and rushed off, beginning to stumble and seem a bit more incapacitated than before, towards Ryan and Vic.

Briton stared for a moment, horrified, while she connected with them and was lead out towards the exit. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't stop her. He couldn't talk to her, couldn't convince her. If he had just stayed quiet, just ignored Nathan's prompting, everything would have been fine, normal, and everyone could just act as plain and fakely happy as they usually did. This was all his own stupid fault. Forget Nathan for being the idiot who wanted the answer to a question that shouldn't have mattered to him. It was Briton's fault, in the end, because he could have just said no. What could any of them really have done? They would have been mad, sure, but at least those idiots would have been safe.

His eyes scanned quickly, suddenly, until he spotted a couple of familiar faces. Briton found a sudden, odd sort of comfort when his eyes landed on Oz; that sort of feeling that made him want to duck under the other boy's arms, bury his face into his shirt and rest like that where no one could disturb him, where he could pretend that nothing wrong was happening. The feeling, however, was quite so short lived, however, and when his eyes rested down on Nate, he felt that meek anger bubbling up inside him. Not the same anger he'd felt earlier, no. Suddenly, he'd forgiven Nate for asking the mere question, for invading his privacy, for putting him on the spot, but now he was furious for another thing. He was furious that now, rather than Briton alone having to deal with the pain those neanderthals caused, more were going to have to suffer. By the looks of things, by the cooing and jeering still in the room, by the passing calls, by Nate's somewhat disheveled appearance; even this boy had already gotten a bit of the consequence of his idea of "protecting" his friend.

Briton weaved through the crowd swiftly, storming over to the other two boys until coming to a firm stop in front Nate, almost completely ignoring Oz's presence for the moment. "You're an idiot!" Briton yelled at him bitterly, shoving his hands against Nathan's chest, only to have the boy give way a step probably out of pure pity, seeing as there was no was Briton could have shoved anyone with such a lack of strength. "Am I really the only one who has an ounce of common sense??"

He bit his lip, his whole body beginning to show how flustered he was; his brows drew together, causing creases in the skin of his forehead, his chest heaved with breaths that seemed too hard to take, his fists clenched themselves, his limbs quivered. He didn't have anything he could possibly do to fix what had happened, and he felt so powerless. Even more so than he did on any regular basis.

"Y-you just got into a fight, didn't you?" Briton finally uttered, struggling to keep his voice up above the level of the loud music, despite a shake that had begun to encroach upon his throat. "A-and Violet is going to--" He took as deep a breath as he could, trying to stop his lungs from heaving and making it hurt. He dug his top teeth into his bottom lip, rubbing one fist into his throbbing temple. "Don't you get it, yet? Why doesn't anyone realize why I don't want to tell anything to anyone, you're just putting yourselves in danger for no good reason." He shook his head, fully aware that his voice had begun to change to something in between that of a moan and a whine.

He tried to bring in another uneasy breath, but all that came was a round of sudden coughing, forcing him to bend over at the waist, gasp for air, put a hand to his ribs while they ached with each heave of the lungs. God, it hurt. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to go home. His inhaler would have helped. This kind of scene, partnered with his sudden, choking emotions was just getting to be too much. He knew this was going to end badly, and here was just the icing on the cake. Gasping, and forcing himself to straighten out, he took a step away from the other two boys, trying to maintain perhaps an ounce of dignity while he could still pretend he had some in the first place. He closed his eyes, one hand pressing down to his own forehead, the other reaching out and grabbing Oz's wrist for support.

"I have to go home," He breathed out, his words barely even coming out at all, though even without being heard, it was probably too obvious what they were. "I have to go..." His thoughts wavered over to Charlie for a moment, thinking about how he'd told the other boy that he could text him when he was ready to go. He wasn't in any condition for waiting around for that text anymore, now was he? He felt hoarse, he couldn't get words out anymore. When he opened his eyes, the room was harder to see in, the floor seemed to pull at him more. Was he even in condition to drive at all, he wondered? Turning away to look through the crowd absently, and not really processing much of anything he saw while he did so, his hand didn't leave where it rested weakly gripping Oz's wrist.

"I need to tell Charlie I'm leaving," He uttered as loudly as he could manage, before bending slightly again, his hand finally leaving Oz's wrist to cover his mouth while he struggled through the breaths for a few moments. He dropped the hand down to his side after a moment, and shook just a bit. "I hope I can find him soon..." I don't know how much more of this I can take...

"Hey. What's up, Red? I showed up, when can I leave?" Paige instantly turned around at the light brush of fingers across her arm. Coming face to face with the one she had been looking for since she had arrived at the party, a smile made its way across her face.

"What's up Sammi, oh come on the party just started. You didnt even ask me to dance." Paige teased back nudging him playfully.

Was she flirting? The though flittered across her mind as she stared at Sam waiting for his response. A slight almost unnoticeable blush made its way across her face as she realized she might have been.

"What time did you get here?" She asked hurriedly trying to change the subject and his train of thought, an attempt at distracting him from what she had just said.

"What did you think!?" Lacey's excited voice stole Paige's attention before she could catch Sam's response.

"It's great Lacey, I think everyone's enjoying it." Paige responded though doubted the girl caught her words as she continued to chatter on to Amber.

Rolling her eyes in a playful way Paige turned to Cora as she heard the familar hello, a smile graced her lips as she greeted her friends.

"Hey what's up Cora, we missed you at the diner." Giving the short haired brunette a quick hug, Paige smiled. "Bring that book of yours?" She asked smirking at the girl.

The sudden absence of music made Paige glance behind her, her eyes landing crowd of people who seemed to be surrounding something.

Probably a fight Paige thought not really giving it much mind. High schoolers never knew how to solve problems without using their fist.

"We'll I'm going to go get a drink anyone want to join me?" Paige asked just as the music turned on again getting rid of the kind of awkward silence.

Stealing a quick glance at Sam she headed off toward the kitchen trying to get rid of the slight embarrassment she still held from talking to Samuel. Stopping in the kitchen Paige poured herself a cup of hopefully not spiked punch.

This whole thing was already beginning to spin into what would eventually become yet another disaster. Only this time, it was because I wasn't thinking straight when I chose to handle it my way. It was like something else had taken control of me, moving my body to how it saw fit. Still a little shaken, I let out a breath of air and shook my head slightly while thinking of what to do, how to fix my mistake. Tch, this mistake... I already had plenty of those that span over the last 100 years. This wasn't any different, other than its immediate importance: Vic and Ryan had to be stopped further yet. But it wasn't going to be as easy as luring them into a weak proposition such as the one I made with Vic just then. No, it would take more than that. Much more. I figured it would only end one of two ways; either I go the full 9-yards and beat them both senseless, which is something that I would rather not have to do... Or... I could kill them. My eyes narrowed at the thought of being able to even think of such a thing. I could do it, yes, but would I really be capable of taking two teenage lives just to save the life of one of my friends...? Either way, I knew I wouldn't be able to get away with it, and I was absolutely no good to anyone if I were behind bars...

It wasn't until Briton had showed up, angry upon seeing the obvious outcome of what had just happened. Calling me an idiot, he gave me a light shove, which sent me stumbling a few steps back on account of my weakened knees, where I again stopped with my shoulder hitting the DJ stand. Although, thankfully, this time the cord wasn't unplugged. Barely moving or breathing, I just stared at Briton with a vacant expression as he told me what he thought. I couldn't blame him, really. I mean, he was right, in a way. Sure, friends were supposed to help friends, but was I really helping him...? Wouldn't it have just been better to have asked him what he wanted to do about it, rather than to take matters into my own hands without prior intel on what it was I was getting myself into? Well, I didn't care about what happened to me in the long run, so I was alright with getting a little pummeled here and there, but not if that meant Briton would be suffering even more later on...

While not locking eyes with him, I gave a small, silent nod as to his question regarding whether or not a fight had just taken place. From there, he went on to express himself further, but after a certain utterance of words, I was no longer listening. I couldn't even hear the sound of my own voice properly after what had just started dancing around in my head. My heart tightened, my eyes unfocused and my breathing became more apparent. He mentioned Violet. In regards to what was going on now. Which meant that it involved Vic and/or Ryan, which made me want to freak out in fear of the possibilities that scenario would result in. But I did feel my lips move and my throat vibrate with the evidence that I was speaking, although I must not have been heard, as Briton continued to rant about my stupidity, which I totally agreed was true. However, something more important than getting the scolding I deserved became apparent...

"What...?" I said, sounding lost. "Violet's doing what...?" I continued, now straightening up a bit. I tried getting the boy's attention a few times, but he was soon lost in his own thoughts as he began having something of a panic attack of his own. Waiting for him to calm down slightly, I grabbed his shoulders and looked fiercely into his eyes. "Listen to me-- WHERE is Violet? What is she going to do?" I spoke clearly. Now finally noticing my presence once more, since I was literally right in his face, he told me, albeit with obvious contempt over still being mad at me for what I had done. It was as if all noise around me had died down until the only thing I heard with certainty was Briton's words. My eyes widened at that, my mouth slightly agape as I stumbled back yet again, only this time it was of my own volition. 'Oh, no...' I thought. 'Oh, no, no-- NO! This can't be happening! What have I done?' I shouted at myself inside my head. I knew it was my fault, even if all I did to cause this part of the night had been simply because I had Briton tell me who was hurting him. My worst fears were being realized, and the last birthday hadn't even arrived yet. Could this be an intervention by the curse? A change in the rules...?

Not wanting to believe such a thing, I pulled out my pocket watch with visibly shaky hands. The watch was still ticking just fine, so there was at least hope. But that wasn't to say that we couldn't die by regular means before the game started... I had to find her; stop her from getting involved. Because even if she turned out to not be in immediate danger tonight, there was still the very strong possibility of what she did during its hours, which would come back to bite her in the very near future... I couldn't wait for her to seal her fate because of my mistake. I couldn't let her die because of me yet again...

Without saying another word to either Briton or Oz, I moved between them, heading for the door that was at the end of several twisting bodies. Wading through them as if I were in some deep, leech infested swamp, I made for the front yard. Stopping me on the way was a girl who looked to be a few years out of high school, asking me to dance with her. I didn't want to be rude, but dammit, there was something far beyond important to me at that moment in time. As politely as I could, I refused her request and continued on, much to her indifference. Finally reaching the door, I jogged outside where a small group of teenagers were chatting it up over a few beers.

"Hey!" I said, coming to a halt, already glistening with sweat I wasn't aware of back inside the house. "Did you see a short brunette leave with a couple of guys? Might know em-- Vic Rockford and Ryan Chaffton?" I asked them, looking back and forth between two of them. Smiling, they told me what they knew.

"Oh, uh... Yeah, I think so?" one of them said, scratching his temple with his index finger. "I saw Vic and Ryan carrying off some drunk chick to their car before driving off, but I didn't get a good look at her." My eyes widened once more as the two of them smiled again. Was I too late...?

"Where did they go!?" I shouted. "Which direction did they leave in?" The two guys then suddenly looked a little unsure of me.

"Um... What's it to you, anyway? She your girlfriend or something?" he asked, tilting his head slightly. This was such a pain; couldn't these two assholes just tell me? I mean, they say they saw a drunk chick, and my current state was obviously one of fear, not excitement, so why withhold information that could save a young girl? The people of this century were unbelievable...

"Yeah, she's my girlfriend." I said without hesitation. Anything to speed things up. Even if that meant lying to people I didn't know or care about. "Now which way did they go?"

"Ah, shit, man. Uhhh..." he said, pausing to looking behind him towards the road in front of the house, now pointing awkwardly to the right. "That way, I think." Growling a little at his uncertainty, I followed his point.

"You're sure?" I asked, looking him in the eyes.

"Yeah, definitely." spoke the other boy. "Ryan's house is about 4 blocks up that way, so that makes sense." Nodding along with him, I chose to trust in his words, not wanting to waste anymore time.

"Thanks!" I said, giving one of them a pat on the shoulder before jogging into the street. I looked ahead to see if I could make out any tail lights, but there were none to be seen from either end. Giving another frustrated growl, I took off up the road in the direction I was told they went. It had been awhile since I ran so hard, and with so much purpose. Not since 19 years ago... The street was practically void of light, save for a few breaks in the trees that towered over me from either side; streetlamps were standing erected on the side walk every few yards, but other than that, I could barely see anything until my eyes began to adjust to the lack of proper lighting. With each step I took towards the unknown destination I was heading for, I became more worried. With every hardened breath of air I inhaled, I was reminded of my past lives more vividly, as though I were still there, trying to beat the clock in my head... But I had to reassure myself that, at the very least, it wasn't a sure thing that Violet was going to die tonight, since the game hadn't even started yet. I had to have faith in her. I had to believe that she wouldn't do anything anywhere near as stupid as what I had done not 5 minutes ago... I had to hope that my friend was okay.

I continued running down the empty street, the sound of the party that was a couple of blocks behind me still having been loud enough for me to faintly make it out. I was beginning to panic again, wondering if I had been told a lie by those two boys, simply because they didn't believe Violet was my girlfriend or something. And then I began to think on it more. What if those guys were friends of Ryan and Vic's...? What if they told me to go the wrong way because they were in on some kind of plot that involved those two assholes getting revenge on me for Vic's humiliation at the party? They had to have known that Violet and I have been friends since childhood, right? At least they would have noticed it after I became a person of interest to them, wouldn't they...? They would have made the connection, surely. If they knew who both Violet and I were, even just a little, then it was safe to assume that they also knew we were close based on seeing us together at school.

"Dammit!" I shouted at the empty street, trying not to think about the worst that could happen. "VIOLET!!" I shouted once more, my voice becoming hoarse as I hoped that she would hear me somehow, no matter how far away she might have been. I was afraid. More than just me, though... Something stirred deep within me. Something that wasn't entirely...me. I ignored that feeling as best I could up until that point, but it was becoming stronger. My was heart pounding with more than just the adrenaline that came with running as fast and as hard as my body would allow. The only thing on my mind was Violet's future. A future that could be traced back to my carelessness. A future that I inevitably caused... A future where she was no longer in my life. And that's when I realized that those thoughts weren't my own. I had lost this person more than once before-- as I did with everyone else, but Nathan Miller had never lost Violet Haring before... He had never lost any of his friends. For some reason... I was focusing solely on the fact that this version of her would be gone forever. At the time, I hadn't given it much thought, but the truth of the matter was... Nathan Miller wouldn't be allowed the luxury of seeing that girl's soul in another body, unlike me. Because Violet would only ever be Violet. For him, he would never see her again once she was gone...

That particular scary thought was something I remember once having, myself... And it's something I still think about to this very day...