---

---

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...

Samuel Westhouse

Sam kept one eye on Violet as he talked to Paige, waiting for a moment to catch her. Paige seemed pleased to see him. She nudged him playfully, teasing him about dancing. "Maybe I was waiting for the right moment." He jested back. She seemed to hesitate a moment, as if something uncomfortable had just popped into her mind, but then she changed the subject. What time had he gotten here? He opened his mouth to answer, but Lacy caught her attention before he could. He didn't slump, but inside he could feel himself Wilt a bit. He didn't need much, but sometimes he wished he could have Paige's undivided attention for at least a little bit. Maybe it was the buzz growing in his brain, but he had the urge to cut in again, pull her away and give her that dance she had been teasing him about or something. But no, her other friends were important to her too and he couldn't do that to her. He turned his attention back to Violet for a moment, searching out her location. She was talking to Briton. Cora had shown up over at their little group, and Paige was talking to her. Maybe...maybe now was a good time?

He laid his hand on Paige's shoulder for a second. "I'll be right back in a second." He murmured in her ear, close enough that she could hear him. He wound his was towards where she was standing, and the music cut out for a second. He barely noticed though, so intent on catching her. As it crackled back to life, Sam saw Violet turn from Briton and run straight into two big guys. Chaffon and Rockwell, the bastards. Shit. He sped up as the girl started walking with them, stumbling a little. Was she really that drunk, or was she playing with them? Either way, this was not good. She was going to get hurt.

They managed to get out the door before he could plow through the people in his way, and once he burst out the door they were already off. Shit. Shit shit shit. He cast about himself, but there was nothing. He'd just run then. It was a neighborhood, hopefully they wouldn't do over thirty. As long as he could keep them in his sights he'd be fine.

The boy took off from the front stoop, landing halfway down the sidewalk running. He wasn't lithe enough to be a sprinter, but he pushed himself down the sidewalk, using his elbows to cut his way through the people lounging outside. He raced down the street, completely focused on running. He was a little unsteady, maybe he shouldn't have drunken anything, but his buzz was only serving to make him angrier. He was focused on trying to break the wall, let his adrenaline flood his body and remove the feeling of wear in his muscles, even if that point was still far off, when he heard someone yelling from a couple blocks away.

'Dammit.' He made out fuzzily. He didn't stop running, but he focused his ears harder. Was it one of the guys? Had Violet already started up? 'Violet!' The voice shouted. No, it wasn't one of the other guys. It had to be either Nate, Charlie, or Oscar. No one else could possibly be calling out her name. He had to stop for a second. Any backup he could get would be helpful. He paused, tracking the car he was chasing around the corner before halting. "Over here!" He called, cupping a hand around his mouth. It wasn't nearly loud enough because his lungs were starved for oxygen.

"Over here!" He shouted again, managing to get his voice loud enough that it rang off the houses around him. Hopefully the other guy heard him and could follow the sound. He started running again, crossing the road to follow the turn the car had made. He would make it there. He didn't intend to do anything super-hero-ish, he didn't want to save the day, he just didn't want Violet to get hurt.

Following behind Nate in the crowded room was no small feat, weaving past closely packed bodies that were in constant motion, the incessant beat of the music pulsating throughout the room like it had its own heartbeat. Idly, Oz wondered why the cops hadn't been called by irritated neighbors at this point. The town was small enough that you could probably hear the pure noise from the party as far away as his own house.

It was up to Nate to take point on this little mission, which, much later Oz would harbor some regrets about. However, at that moment, with all the bro-fueled friendliness the greeting got them (perhaps fueled by a bit of a drunken haze, but, hey, no judge), Oz could only offer up his typical lazy smile and a bit of a wave, which quickly morphed into a more bemused smile because what on Earth was Nate saying? "Total Wizard, yo"? But it worked, Ryan crowing enthusiastically before giving Oz a friendly hand-slap. Everything was going smoothly so far, and Oz allowed himself to relax even further if that was at all possible. This could work. This could totally work.

So, when Ryan continued on with, "Killer party, right? Haha!", Oz grinned as if he were talking with a life-long friend instead of a the guy who'd been harassing Briton.

"Man, that's an understatement," He replied, nodding his head and following Ryan's gaze. So maybe loud and crowded parties fueled by adrenaline and booze weren't Oz's cup of tea (the mere fact that he thought things like 'cup of tea' being a primary reason), but this party was enthusiastic and rocking, the creme de la creme of parties if he was any judge.

From there on, Oz kept quiet, watching the conversation unfold. He couldn't resist the urge to roll his eyes with the Lacey comment because seriously? Fine piece of ass? If Lacey had heard them, Oz was reasonably sure they'd be nursing more than just a hangover tomorrow. It was like Ryan, Vic, and their little group were walking, talking stereotypes in an after school special, convinced that making lewd comment about women and harassing nice kids like Briton actually made sense in the real world. And maybe he should have said something, should have stepped in and taken over the conversation so that calmer heads would prevail. However, with each sip of generic alcohol Nate took, any good feelings that he'd brokered at the beginning of this conversation began to vanish. Oz could only nod in agreement about Briton being their friend because, well, if he wasn't their friend, why would they be having this conversation in the first place.

"Yup, that's all I got." Even before he opened his mouth, Oz knew that this wasn't going to end well. The friendly atmosphere had effectively dissolved until only a latent animosity was left behind. Still, with all of his ill-placed optimism, Oz had to try. I mean, it could work out, couldn't it?

"I mean, Briton's a nice guy, you know? I'm sure whatever the problem is, we could talk it out. I know you guys are cool, and we're not here to start a fight, so why don't we just keep cool and figure this out, alright?" There was an awkward silence where the music track was begin switched, and, as Ryan's face evolved into something akin to a sneer, Oz knew that the time for negotiations had disappeared a few minutes after they came to the party. His whole rational speech, calm smile, and friendly words may have worked in some other cases, but right now? Not a snowball's chance in Hell.

Now things were escalating quickly, manly pride, testosterone, and liquid courage on Ryan and Vic's side mixing with Nate's fervent desire to defend their friend and the emotion of the situation into a dangerous situation. Maybe calmer heads were prevailing, Oz had to hope when Ryan held his friend back, but those hopes were quickly dashed because whatever Ryan had in mind? Yeah, all Ron Weasley comments aside(the joke was, of course, on him. Oz liked Ron, thanks very much), probably not good. His pride was magnificent to watch, though, smaller than Oz by a few inches and about Nate's size, but maybe he thought that his ego gave him extra strength.

"Now...WE aren't going to accept such an unfair challenge... Unless, of course...YOU want to step up to the plate, Nathan?" Oh, Lord. They just had to challenge Nate, didn't they? Sure he was more their size and Oz was… well, not, but did they really have to choose the person who wanted to fight?

"Nate, man, just forget it," Oz was almost pleading with him at this point, a hand placed solidly on his best friend's shoulder. "This isn't going to end well, let's just go, okay? You shouldn't do this." But even his patent face of Ozzie disapproval that usually worked so well when his friends were about to do something stupid, was ineffective.

Everything was happening too fast now, some stupid game with rules being set up, and then fists were flying. It was all going by too fast, too fast to catch Nate as he fell backwards, back meeting the stage with a resounding crack that Oz could only hope was the temporary booth and not his best friend. But now, now Oz could keep up with what was happening as a near silence fell over the room, and he quickly pulled Nate to his feet, and was, quite unlike his usual self, a flurry of motion, but not at random. Oh, no, each move was calculated and with a certain calmness that no other person in this room possessed because Oz was good in a crisis. He really was. Checking what was surely going to be a nasty bruise on Nate's head, glancing down at the dented DJ stage, all the while whispering, "Nate, come on, let's go. You don't have anything to prove. This is only going to get worse, let's go, let's go."

But Nate only pulled away with a friendly pat and a smile, throwing himself back into the conversation. Now he was proposing a deal, a deal with people who thought that picking on people was fun and that punching someone in the head was even more so. But maybe it wasn't too insane, maybe Nate did have a plan because now he was picking at one of their greatest weaknesses- their pride. If he could pull this off, miraculous thought it may be because Nate wasn't a fighter, maybe it could work…?

And, just like that, he did. Vic went toppling over and there was a moment of disbelieving silence before the room erupted in drunken cheers, whoops of excitement that the underdog had won, or maybe just thrilled that they got to see a fight. Nate seemed as surprised as anyone, perhaps a little too much so, but he was clasping Oz's hand, and the taller boy could only squeeze back, surprise evident on his own face. Even Vic struggling back to his feet couldn't quell the excitement as he took a few steps towards them before stopping short, and maybe Oz just realized why. He was looming closer over Nate's shoulder now, nearly pressed against him in the small space provided by the enthusiastic mob. Was someone seriously scared of him? Seriously? Oz hadn't fought anyone since, what, the second grade, and that had been more of a play fight than anything.

Everyone was dispersing now, slowly going back to whatever they'd been doing as the music restarted and Ryan managed to pull Vic back from, if not starting a round two, then just shouting stupidly. But any peace that had come from this fight vanished in just a few words as Ryan walked over to Nate and hissed out a threat before vanishing with his posse to lick their wounded prides. Nate was slightly trembling now, and Oz bit his lip, hand reaching out to wrap around Nate's shoulders only to meet with empty space. Briton, who against all odds had decided to come, had given Nate a push and was clearly furious with him, spitting out accusations and then there was something about Violet that Oz didn't understand. He must have been the only one not in the loop because Nate was off like a shot and Oz was left alone with Briton who was, well, who was having some sort of asthma attack, and since when did Briton have asthma?

Briton was wheezing, grabbing onto Oz for support, but it was like Oz wasn't even there. He basically hadn't been there since the party started and he'd spotted Ryan and Vic on the other side of the room, words going mainly unheard, helping people up, not being told anything as Briton and Nate had their half conversation that had Nate racing away, and now begin used as a physical support for Briton who seemed to have forgotten that Oz was more than just a standing post for the moment. And that was fine. It was all fine. It didn't bother him at all. Not one… not one bit. At least he could help here. He could do that.

He wrapped a gangly but solid arm around Briton who was bent over and struggling to breathe.

"Briton." His voice was calm, too calm as he bent over as well until he was on the same level as Briton. "Briton, I'm going to get you home. Let me text Charlie, okay? Then we'll go to your car and I can take you home. Can you move now? It's fine if you just need to stay here for a minute." His tone was soothing as he rubbed Briton's back in calming circles because he didn't know what else to do and he wasn't about to move Briton or send off a text until he was sure his first call shouldn't be to 911. Was this asthma? A lingering cough? He had no idea, but he could certainly pretend like he did.

"You're weird today."Briton's words cut through the air nearly sending Charlie's heart thumping out of his chest at the sudden visit of unwelcome words. Charlie looked down at his shoes feeling his face growing red.

Was it really that obvious? Charlie wondered sneaking a glance at Briton who was crawling akwardly and cutely onto his bed before he fumbled with the tv remote. He really needed to get better at hiding his feelings, Charlie noted trying to straighten up and act as if the words didnt bother him the best way he could.

"I um... uh..." Briton mumbled seeming to be a bit apologetic before claiming they were going to watch a movie.

Charlie only shrugged just happy that the subject was being changed.

Actually enjoying the pick of the movie Charlie watched it intently, his mind slowly fading into the movie as he slipped away from his life problems and into the action and adventure of the fifth element.

"I just gotta change my clothes, I almost forgot." Charlie nodded not really grasping what Briton had said as he continued to watch the end of the movie, to engrossed in it to understand his words.

Charlie's brow furrowed at the sudden flurry of flying pants passing through his peripheral vision. Turning in his seat his eyes landed on a half naked Briton, his shirt beginning to be pulled over his head. He looked even more scrawny and small than Charlie imagined, though its not really like Charlie had ever imagined what his friend looked like naked....

Bruises lay across his bare skin some looking newer than others.

"Briton..." Charlie whispered horrified.

The boy turned giving Charlie the cold shoulder as he pulled on socks.

"Alright, come on," Briton finally said after what felt like an eternity to Charlie. Getting up silently and following Briton out his apartment and to the car, the air became thick and awkward.

---

The loud sound of the music drifted out the house and across the street greeting Charlie where he sat in Briton's car parked about a house down from the teenage crowded party.

"Ready?" Charlie asked gently, concerned at the way his friend seemed to be growing pale just looking at the crowds of people.

Charlie hopped out of the car, deciding on giving Briton as much time as he needed to get out the car and build up to go into the party where no doubtfully Briton's aggressors would be.

"I'm only going in for a few minutes! I'll probably leave early, too, so just text me if you need a ride home later." Briton called receiving a thumbs up from Charlie before the loud blonde sunk into the bodies of people.

"Hey Charles man what's up?" Charlie was greeted as soon as he entered the sea of people, turning around to find the sound of the voice he grinned at his auburn haired friend. "Hey Mike."

"Man where've you been?" Mike asked after giving his friend a bro hug.

Charlie shrugged as his eyes involuntarily scoped the room for Briton.

"Jake's already upstairs gettin some." His friend smirked at him before pointing at a group of girls who were giggling and chatting as they sipped from cups in their hands. "Punch's already spiked, though most people just went straight for the alcohol."

"Damn guessed I missed a lot then." Charlie muttered as his eyes traveled down a girls body who was wearing one of the tightest tank tops and shortest shorts he had ever seen. Another grin made its way across his face as he realized he was checking a girl out and actually liked it. I knew I wasn't gay, Charlie thought relieved.

The faint nudge of an elbow to his ribs made Charlie break his gaze from the girl and look over at Mike.

"Two girls, three o'clock. I call the one on the right." Mike muttered before throwing a slight smirk on.

Charlie quickly ran a hand through his hair out of habit.

"Hey boys." A petite looking brunette said her words slurring together, already heavily intoxicated.

"Ladies." Charlie smiled, first checking out the small brunette before glancing over at the taller punk looking girl, her hair a jet black.

The punk looking girl muttered something under breath and rolled her eyes. She looked like she could careless about being here, and she just so happened to be the girl on the left.

"You look familiar, do I know you from somewhere?" Mike asked leaning in towards the brunette nonchalantly as he spoke.

The girl giggled slightly. " I sit next to you in english, silly."

"Oooo how are you going to recover from that one." The other girl chuckled amused.

"Alli, quit it." The brunette hissed receiving a glare from Alli, as the two began to try and stare the other one down.

"Why don't we go dance." Mike interrupted the two smoothly.

"Uhh sure," The brunette smiled. "Why dont you look after my friend while I'm away." She daintly placed a hand on Charlie's forearm, but kept her eyes on Alli, before walking off in Mike's arms.

"Well guess that just leaves you and-" Charlie stopped midsentece as the girl began to walk away. "Hey where are you going?" He gently grabbed the girls forearm. Only to be roughly shaken off. "Where do you think I'm going." Alli rolled her eyes and stared at Charlie as if he was dumb. "Unlike my ditzy friend, I don't roll that way." With that she walked off leaving Charlie standing there with his mouth open.

The sudden absence of music only breaking him out of his trance as he looked away from Alli's retreating figure.

"What the?" He muttered, lightly touching his ears feeling weird that the loud pounding of music that had accompanied him since he walked in was gone. Making his way over to the crowd of people, Charlie stood on his tippy toes, unable to get a good view, he did his best to push through people, but was still unable to really see anything.

"Hey Trevor what going on here?" Charlie asked spotting one of his friends who was now cheering with the rest of the people around him.

"Some random guy just showed Vic Rockford up." Trevor laughed obviously stoked at the notion.

"Who?" Charlie asked appalled at the idea of someone wanting to try and show up the popular, muscled jock.

"Ehh, I don't know, I think his name is somethin that starts with an N."

Charlie's eyes widened, Nate. He didnt. There were a lot of people at the party with a name beginning with the letter N, but Charlie had a strong feeling that Nate was the one who had 'showed Vic up'. He could have at least called me for backup. Charlie thought slightly annoyed.

The sudden return of music only made Charlie more annoyed as he tried to push through the crowds of people.

"Am I really the only one who has an ounce of common sense??" Charlie caught the fragment of a conversation as he spotted Nate, Oscar and Briton.

"Hey Charlie want to dance?" A girl suddenly blocked his path a drink was firmly clutched in her hand, while the other was now pressed against the blonde's chest.

"Not right now." Charlie answered irritated as he watched Nate dash out the door.

"What's stuck up your ass?" The girl growled back before moving on.

Charlie began walking again, picking up his pace as he watched Briton double over coughing. He only slowed down slight after seeing the dyed blonde grasp Oz's wrist and then altogether come to a complete stop as he watched Oz rub Briton's back.

Charlie's heart dropped as he watched the two. Briton probably enjoyed the physical encounter between him and Oz, it probably wasnt awkward as it had been between them when they were at his house. Briton was probably even smiling, just the way he had when Oscar had ruffled his hair, well if he could with the lack of air he was getting, either way he was probably enjoying it.

Charlie began walking again, pushing past the two and unnecessarily shoving Oz as he exited the house.

That party was lame anyway, Charlie thought sourly kicking a rock as he walked alone down the dark sidewalk. Why did he even care what Briton and Oscar did together. They were both friends they could do whatever the hell they wanted together, he had no say.

Letting out a frustrated breath he roughly pulled a hand through his hair yanking out a few strands in the process.

"VIOLET!!" A clearly frustrated and worried voice rang through the streets barely reaching Charlie's ears.

"Nate?!" Charlie called out thinking he recognized the voice.

The voice sounded distress and Charlie was pretty sure it was Nate, he had seen him dash out of the house, so it would make sense.

Charlie began running, calling Nate's name out again, hoping his friend and Violet were okay.

At least this situation was something to keep his mind off of Briton and Oz who were probably all over each other by now. Charlie picked up speed at the thought just barely making out a running figure in front of him. There was no way he would catch up to him, he was already starting to lose his breath not use to the sudden heavy exercise. Well at least he could try, he had already let Nathan down in the brawl against him and Briton's bullies, he wasnt going to do it again.

Everything felt all foozy and weird, to the point that Vi didn't really know if she was drunk, or pretending to be drunk, or maybe even both at the same time, like, is that even possible? Foozy's a damn cool word though, like, shit, it's awesome and it's fun to say. She felt like actually saying it, in completely articulate form, earning her some weird looks from the two assholes driving the car - wait how can two assholes even drive a car? Get it, like, come on, they don't even have hands to grab the steering wheel it doesn't even make sense, isn't it funny? And anyways two people can't drive a car with only one driver's seat, seriously, get with the program already man - gave her a weird look. They murmured something that Vi couldn't really make out, although she had a faint nagging feeling at the back of her head - someone's nugging her head like a noogly, or whatever, shut up that's not even funny, Vi - but she heard something echo somewhere, like a scream or some shit. Maybe Nate - the Nate that was so oblivious he didn't even almost notice her like, she tries so hard and he doesn't even have a damn clue and it's just shit isn't it, like, really now - was in need or something, but, well, the two assholes came first. Top priority. They were close anyways.

Her vision glazed over as colors and lines swam around - the speed of the car, or her own insobriety? Did it really matter? Descriptions like this are boring anyways and man, she just wanted to violently whack the shit - is there even a wya to not violently whack shit out of people? - out of the two assholes. Vic. Ryan. Damnit. Needed to die.

Finally the endless moving sensation stopped, and Vi felt a sudden lurch, almost knocking her into Ryan, who steadied her and took a better look of her face. Recognition happened instantly and he remembered the shame of losing a fight to the girl a while back, his face twisting in quickly masked anger before Vic could really notice.

"Shit." Ryan muttered. "Vi, right?"

Time to stop enjoying the alcohol. Vi shook her head and slapped herself a few times, trying to clear the fog settling in her consciousness. She had to be fully aware for this to work, or else it could really - wait. Wait, shit. She's alone. With two guys. This could end bad- no. It'd be fine. Nothing bad will happen except that this town will have two more people to add to the disability list. Crippling counts, right? She pondered this briefly before remembering that she had to respond or else they might just not even let her inside. She took a quick careful glance around, as best as she could, and committed the street name and everything else to memory. Even that sleeping dog down the street. Even the car. She made sure to remember it all, so she could hunt down the people who deserved it and wipe them out.

"Yeah." She said. Had to gain their trust somehow. Because she cold end this tonight. She had to end this tonight. "Ryyan, uh, about before-"

"When you beat me up for a little joke?"

She made something of a bashful face.

"Right. That. Uh, sorry. I... yeah. Went too far. Had a bad day that day."

It was a tense moment, and Vic was more or less looking back and forth between them, probably confused as to how Vi suddenly went from drunk to at least somewhat lucid. There was something of a silence until Ryan finally talked again, making a bit of a jokey grin.

"What's up with people trying to hit me, Vic, man." He chuckled, and opened the door to his house, inviting Violet and Vic in. "First you, and then your boyfriend Nat-" He made an abrupt about-face and turned to the girl again. "Hang on. Didn't you come here with Nate? Why'd you need us -"

Vi clenched her fist. She had to hold her anger for now. Couldn't beat them both at once. That's impossible. She didn't even find a weapon yet. And she wasn't stupid enough to try and take them on outside, where people could see her. That's just shit.

"Not my boyfriend." She said curtly. "He's just a friend."

And so, the trio entered in a somewhat awkward silence. Ryan looked around for a few minutes, as if thinking, and then muttered at Vic to just wait in the kitchen while he more or less pulled Vi up the stars, to where the bedrooms were. She looked at him suspiciously for a few seconds, but decided to go with the flow. Having both of them separated seemed like a good idea for now. But could she take down Ryan in one blow?

"Parents are out." Ryan said. "Hey. You can sleep in their room tonight, I guess. Vic'll be in my room." He then stepped a bit closer to the girl. "Unless, y'know, you wanna do something tonight."

Maybe this was the best opportunity. Ryan would be distracted and then she could go for the hit. Wipe him out while he's aroused. That'd be a cinch. She nodded to that, making something of a sultry wink, and slipped into the room as best as she could, as sexily as she could. Which probably wasn't very sexy whatsoever, but what the hey. She's a fighter, not a girly girl.

"Just let me get some protection." Ryan muttered and left, presumably to tell Vic that he'd be alone tonight. This was her chance. Her goddamn chance. Vi quietly opened the closet and dug through it until she happened around a golf club. Why was there even golf clubs, anyways? In any case, she went to the wall beside the door and waited, feeling tense and excited all at once. This was either going to be awesome, or gonna suck.

Ryan approached, and she knee'd him in the gut, before tossing him into the room, and locking the door shut. He looked as if he wanted to say something - Super Hero Violet didn't even give him that much, and kicked him until he rolled over onto his belly; back ready for crushing. Violet began to smash it down, over and over.

"You." She said, punctuating each word with a blow. "Fuck. You. Hurt. My. friend. Briton." She made a dark smirk of pleasure after hearing his cries, and also seeing the doorknob rattle, and shouting from outside. Vic, probably. Vi smacked down again, enjoying the sound of steel whipping flesh. "What the fuck did he do, huh? Why'd you have to target him? He didn't do shit and you're making his life hell! Why the fuck do you think you can get away with that, you shits, you-"

The door was kicked down, and Vic pushed the vigilante onto the ground, glaring at her fiercely.

"Fuck you." He growled. "Bitch. I'll-"

"Damnit." Ryan gasped, but shot Vic a warning glare. "Fuck. It hurts. Nothing's broke but fuck, Vic, shit-"

Two on one now. This was her cue to leave. She didn't even break his spine. She didn't even get to swing at Vic. She had to get out of here, because she had the disadvantage no-

A force buffeted into her chest, knocking her onto the floor again. Vi crumpled, trying to catch her breath, almost whimpering in pain. She felt another kick slam into her ribs, and curled up tighter - fuck, it hurt, it hurt so bad, she couldn't even breathe, damnit - but when Vic finally stopped, Vi took her chance and pounced on him; big muscled body crashing onto the floor, with her on top of it. She regarded him with a manic, feral grin.

"I've had it." She hissed. "I've fucking had it. I'll ki-"

She paused. What was she about to say? Kill? Could she really go to that extent? Could she really kill him? Physically, this was the best chance. Just stomp on his head. But what - could she really? Did heroes ever do this? And the answer, clearly, was no. Heroes didn't kill. So she wouldn't either. She did land a punch on his cheek though, before getting off, and glaring at them both.

"Tell anyone about this." She warned. "And I'll go after you again. Go after Briton again, and I'll wipe you both out for good. This stays between us. You got that?"

Without bothering to listen to their response, the vigilante rushed down the stairs and exited the house, before clutching at her chest. Goddamnit. This hurt like hell. She wouldn't be able to fight for a few days, with this sort of injury. It hurt too much. It hurt to hell. She wouldn't be surprised if Vic had broken a rib. Hopefully not. Because that'd ruin the whole super hero thing.

She had to get back to the party now. Shit. She didn't even know where to go. This wasn't awkward or anything. Vi stood there, trying to make a sense of her surroundings, when she felt another pang of pain shoot up her side. Damnit. The vigilante groaned as she more or less collapsed onto the sidewalk, lifting her shirt to try to observe the damage. Not that she could see much, it was too dark and shit.

Samuel Westhouse

Sam didn't stop running again, not waiting to see if he got a response. He needed to keep track of the car. He skidded around the corner to see it parked at the end of the road. As he neared, he saw a smaller figure stumble out of the house. Shit. The figure walked down the driveway, paused, then crumpled. Sam had to stop running, because if he kept going at that pace he was going to trip and wipe out. Then he wouldn't be any use to anyone. His body shaking with the force of his run, he stumbled the last few feet to the form on the ground.

"Fuck, Violet?" He mumbled. God, if she was dead...Or concussed....or just unconscious... he didn't know what to do. No...no...she was moving...she was alive. "Violet?" He said again, his voice hoarse. He reached out for her form, finding her face. She was hot, but there was no bruising on her face. Good sign. What did he do now? He needed to take her somewhere else. Call an ambulance or something. Find whoever it was that had been yelling for Violet and get him to call.

"Are you hurt?" He asked, trying to gather her up in his arm. Everything was moving sporadically, it was if multiple scenes were playing over one another. As if this had happened before, just in a different way...a different life.... it didn't matter now though. He just had to get her to safety. He could feel her back in his hands, and one of her ribs was shifting in its seat. Actually, she must have suffered damage to her chest. Had they been kicking her? Where were they now?

He really needed to get away. Now. Before they came out. He felt like he was about to be sick, and he couldn't defend himself and Violet at the same time.

The fireman carry wouldn't do here, not if her ribs were damaged, that would be too painful. The rational part of his brain made him stand up, holding her. "Don't move." He told her, trying to get his legs to run again. Adrenaline was still mixing with the booze in his blood, which made for a wobbly but intense scene in his brain. He managed to start running again. He had to get back to the others. Nate'd know what to do.

He wanted to yell at the girl, but there was no time. No time to tell her that she could be dead right now because she'd gotten herself into a big mess. No time for anything but skidding around the corner. Sam ran until he encountered another figure. Actually, more than one. Nate? Charlie?

"Nate!" He called out, his voice raw. "Nate, she's fucking hurt, you need to help her." The sight of the others flooded him with relief that weighed his legs down with exhaustion. Why had that been such a terrifying experience? He knelt down, laying Violet on the sidewalk gently. Nate would have to come over there because he couldn't move anymore.

He was too busy recalling memories that weren't his. Maybe he was going crazy? The sight of Violet laying on the ground had brought up memories that couldn't be pushed back down. Memories of dead friends that weren't familiar. Dead Paige. Dead Cora. Dead Nate. Dead Briton. But they didn't look like themselves. But there were other memories too. Of the ER. Of being ripped apart by a bullet. Of hanging out at the front of the school with kids he didn't recognize but knew instinctively as his friends.

It fell into place, and he thought he was going to be sick. He remembered all this shit. He was going to die. They all were. Even if it wasn't this moment, they were going to die in the near future. But not for the first time. Sam crawled away from Violet, opting instead to lay on his side in the grass, trying not to puke. He really shouldn't have drunk anything at all. He couldn't take this. Not now.

His face was slick with sweat, and he was still gasping for breath, but he managed to open his eyes to see if Nate was taking care of Violet.

"Her rib is broken. Chest trauma." He croaked out.

Almost immediately after my cries for Violet left my lips, I heard someone shouting back "Over here! Over here!", a few times. I knew that voice. It wasn't Violet's, but rather...

"Is that Sam...?" I asked the empty air as I kept running. I had thought I'd also heard my name being called from behind, which, if it was another one of my friends, was something of a godsend. If something happened to Violet, and there was no one there to stop me... I was afraid that I really would end up behind bars for doing something outrageous. "I'm on my way!" I shouted back at the voice ahead of me. I was sure it had to be Sam, but my senses were a little blurry with fear and rage, so there was a chance I was just hoping it was him. Who better to have in case someone gets injured, right? Not that I expected the guy to be carrying around a bunch of medical supplies when going to a party. Then again, he just might have.

Having pushed my body into overdrive, I finally managed to catch up to the owner of the voice-- rather, he came back to meet up with me, and he wasn't alone...

"Sam!" I called out as the sound of his frightened voice echoed toward me, telling me to hurry. My feet slowly came to a halt, my breath heavy as I watched an equally, if not more, out-of-breath Sam kneel over a body. It was like my heart dropped into my shoes; my world almost shattered at the thought of the state she was in. "NO!" I screamed, immediately thinking the worst, my past experiences flooding back to greet me with a cold embrace. I felt the inner Nate go crazy, and I couldn't help but kick my feet off the pavement once more, rushing toward her.

"Vi!" I yelled, absentmindedly placing a hand on Sam's back for slight support as I came to a skid on my knees, sliding across the pavement. "Oh, God..." I exhaled, my voice slightly shaky. "VIOLET!?" My voice cracking slightly, I felt my body move on its own once more, which I was beginning to allow in full. Scooping her up slightly, I held her limp upper body in my arms, almost forgetting to be careful; Sam had said she was hurt, and it was now apparent as she was breathing somewhat hard, a pained expression on her face. At least she wasn't dead; that was all I could tell myself as I looked at Sam, who, in this life, had never seen me so frightened.

"Violet...?" I asked, checking her over. "Please, talk to me..." Giving her shoulder a squeeze as I brushed some hair from her eyes as my own pair began to burn slightly. I could help it. It was all just so surreal. So familiar... Sam had long since left our side, deserving of resting for a while after trying so hard to reach their friend. Charlie had apparently been by my side ever since I stopped running, but I wasn't paying attention to anything besides the immediate problem that was currently crumpled in my arms. Knowing I still had more energy left in my legs, I moved to lift her up, only for her to cry out in pain, making me set her back down. "Shit...! Sorry, Vi..." I hissed, hating myself for causing her more pain. This time, more carefully, I cradled her gently, rising to meet Charlie who was also out of breath, clearly frightened for Violet as well. I quickly adjusted to him being there, turning to talk directly to him.

"Charlie, help Sam up-- please." I said, looking back down at Violet's face, which was glistening with sweat under the moonlight. "We need to hurry back; tell the others." Without another word, I took off back down the road, albeit much slower than my initial run out there, not wanting to cause any more unnecessary pain for the girl I was carrying. "Hang on, Vi... Please, just hang on..." I said in a low, strained voice, speaking more to myself than to her. The clock in my head was still ticking, only much louder than before. It was tethered to me, after all...

Sam had said that it was just broken ribs, but he was no doctor, despite his apparent potential for being one if he were ever allowed the chance to pursue such a career. Realizing this, I asked for her voice. I needed to make sure she was alright...

"Talk to me, Vi..." I said, voice dry and my chest, burning. "Let me hear your voice...!" I kept telling myself over and over again that she would be okay; that this wasn't a premature link to her death. I still had a chance to fix this. Knowing this, I reminded myself that I was seriously out of it in this life. Had this been the curse's doing, I would have lost her for sure... I needed to figure out what was wrong with me. Figure out why the inner Nate was taking control so prominently. Was my mind tired? My soul...? Scared at the thought of it being the latter, I readjusted Violet's position in my arms to get a better hold of her, only to hear her groan slightly, growling at myself, I pushed on, hearing that annoying music float back to me, which, oddly enough thanks to the situation, instantly made me feel somewhat relieved...

---

Amber let the bitter taste of alcohol relax her, as she moved with the music. Lacey seemed to play songs Amber could dance to without getting too into it. She liked to feel the beat in her heart, the pounding sound in her head. At least for awhile. Sometimes it was nice to have an escape. Alice in Wonderland had always reminded her of this, the idea of a wonderland had always interested her. Though her favorite disney character would have to be Ariel, the little mermaid. For obvious reasons of hair color and just the type of person Ariel was.
Amber liked to think she was the strong, independant, yet lovely princess Ariel. She liked the idea of a prince charming, as well as living in two worlds. Though it seemed that she was not her prince's princess. She glanced around to see if Nate had even arrived, let alone if he'd actually decided to come at all. She barely got a chance to look when someone said her name and pulled her aside.
She smiled kindly, at her friend, and allowed herself to be taken from the louder area.

"Hey, uh. Let's talk." Violet said, with a look that Amber realized meant it was something more serious. She let her smile fade, and her signature concerned look came on.
"So. Uh. You're probably wondering why I'm... my hand. The blood. That stuff, right?" Violet started, as Amber watched her carefully.
She nodded, remembering what she'd seen before. Things like that always worried her, really anything did. It was almost an anxiety feeling she'd get, a protective side of her wanted to take everyone in open arms and hug them until the bad things went away. That wasn't exactly possible though.
"I'm... a vigilante," she continued, "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 -" she paused. Amber had a fleeting worry of Violet being in trouble with the cops, but decided she'd let her finish her thought before she jumped to conclusions.
"Yeah, so. I'm a fighter. Just got back from one before we went for milkshakes. So don't worry about it anymore, okay?" She reassured, though it was rushed.
Amber couldn't really tell what Violet was thinking, or why she was hiding it in the first place. Like any protective motherly figure would be, Amber was still concerned for Violet. Part of her wanted her to stop fighting, and stop putting herself in dangerous positions. The other part, still a role of a good parent, was proud of Violet. She was impressed that the small girl seemed to take care of herself completely. Small or not she was tough, and Amber's babying probably belittled the effort Violet put into being independant.
So the two weren't so different after all. Both strong girls, looking out for others.
She smiled as Violet left, the brunette completely unaware of how lucky Amber felt to be friends with a girl like her.
In a sense, Amber was really the odd one out in the group. They were all "odd", or more of a wallflower type. Amber was your classic high school cheerleader, popular and well loved by the people in her school. Not to say her other friends weren't "popular", they were just more unique and had a different twist to their fame. Amber was a good girl for the most part, and like Ariel from the little mermaid, part of her wanted to rebel a little for once.

After a few more drinks, she was having a good time. She'd lost her friends already, but she danced along with the music. She loved to dance, and she was pretty good at moving. Fluid, fun, slightly seductively she seemed to even make a few friends, laughing and being goofy. She seemed to make friends wherever she went. Lacey came back from where she'd been, bringing Amber another drink. She'd already told Lacey how much she'd liked her DJing earlier, and the two were still on the lookout for Nate. Amber spotted him then, talking to two boys. She smiled then, happy to see he'd come. Though she was a little tipsy, it gave her a bit of confidence to go ask him to dance.

She weaved through the crowd, but once she got closer she could see from his face something wasn't right. Though it was loud, she could hear them talking a little. Well, she'd picked up enough at least.
"Yeah, she's my girlfriend. Now which way did they go?" Nate said to a random guy. Apparently Nate was looking for a girl, apparently a girlfriend.
Her heart sunk a little. How could she not have known he had a girlfriend? Feeling incredibly stupid for even hoping to talk to him that night, she turned and headed back to where Lacey and her had been dancing before. On her way over, she made eye contact with the waiter from the diner. He motioned her over with a bright smile.

Seeing him did lift her spirits slightly, but not enough to where she'd been before. On her way to go to him, she grabbed Lacey's hand and whispered, "The boy from the diner came! He has some cute friends.." she let out a giggle and the two went over to the counter.
"You made it just in time.." Colin said slyly, "we're about to drop tabs."
At first Amber just laughed lightly, and went along with it not exactly realizing what he meant at all. She'd never really had many experiences with drugs, only the few times she'd seen people smoking pot.
Colin's friend asked Lacey and Amber if they wanted a hit of acid, and Amber just smiled, still not really understanding fully. She was confused when she was handed a very small piece of paper. She let it sit on her hand, but then watched as the other four boys with them placed the paper on their tongues, letting it dissolve. She at first panicked, and looked to Lacey, to see if she'd taken one or not.
But then she wondered what would be bad if she went wild tonight, she was almost 18 anyway, right? It was only a matter of months. The idea of Alice in Wonderland came back in her mind, a small tab for "eat me" and a bubbly liquid for "drink me". It sounded like fun, but she wanted to see how her best friend would react.

"Hey Guys!" Lacey turned her head sharply to the source of the greeting, smiling widely as her eyes landed on Cora, who she hadn't seen all day and had been a bit disappointed to have not shown up for milkshakes earlier. Lacey threw on a wide smile, throwing a quick hug around the other girl. "Oh my god, Cora!!" She exclaimed, maintaining a steady shout over the pulsating music to be sure that she could be heard. "It's about time we saw you, I was beginning to think you were skipping out on us!" She let go of the other girl, stepping back a little before giving her a light nudge with her elbow as she gave a narrow glance at her with only the smallest hint of a smirk, as if to chastise her slightly for not coming to meet for milkshakes earlier with everyone else.

Lacey gave a quick glance over her shoulder, opening her mouth to bring Amber into the conversation, though she quickly shut it, noticing the small distance that had been constructed while her back was turned and Amber's attention was drawn in towards another figure a bit further down the room. Following the girl's gaze, her eyes widened. Nate had shown up, and hadn't even come over? Her eyes quickly darted back to Amber, furrowing her brows at the mere idea of what she was sure had probably made a significant pain in her chest. She clenched her jaw a moment, biting her lip and smudging a bit of her lipstick, before forcing the smile back on her face and turning back to Cora with a shrug. "Whatever, they'll realize you're here soon enough!"

Speaking of Briton, actually, Lacey could hardly believe what she was seeing when the short, scrawny boy, ducking slightly to remain underneath the range at which someone's flailing limb would have hit a person, came weaving through the crowd. Even if she had made careful to emphasize that she wanted everyone to attend, well... she hadn't really expected as much, now that she really thought about it. "Oh my god!" She uttered loudly, eyes running quickly up and down Briton's small form, with disbelief.

"Hey Guys," He greeted, and it was plain from his voice he was struggling to figure out how to make his voice loud enough to be heard against the atmosphere. "I showed up, against my better nature. But I promise I'm not staying."

Lacey offered up a pout at him, though she couldn't say it wasn't astonishing enough that the guy had shown up at all. Pretty soon, however, he was moving on as well, picking out Violet from the group and heading off to have his own conversation with her, which, as was the conversation with Amber that the girl had had just moments before, and that Lacey had just barely caught a glimpse of as she'd been making her way over to the group, was beginning to worry her a bit more. She tried her best to shake the thoughts from her head, giving a big smile to Amber as her attention jumped back from where it had been. Something about her expression had darkened, and Lacey found her own smile slimming a bit, her heart almost skipping a beat while she found herself worrying about what had happened, what Nate's conversation had been perhaps. Amber was a good girl, good enough for royalty if she wanted it. So why was Nathan such an idiot, then? But then again, how one-sided was it? Violet had feeling for him, too didn't she? And she deserved someone good just as much as the next girl. So why were these two great girls hung up over some angst-ridden boy who wasn't giving either of them the attention they deserved? Lacey clenched her fist, almost not noticing when Amber's mood seemed to lift only slightly as her eyes caught someone else's.

The girl came in close, reaching her hand for Lacey's and pulling her in for a whisper and - finally - a happy giggle. "The boy from the diner came! He has some cute friends..." Her whisper came in a sort of sing-song tone, and Lacey found her signature smile spreading once again across her face once again. Finally... Finally Amber could focus her attention on someone who'd actually payed her some due attention, who wasn't so engulfed in his own damn problems to show a girl a little interest. Amber deserved a little fun, and so did Violet, too, now that Lacey thought about it. But, giving a glance around... where had the girl gone, anyway?

With not much time to dwell on it further, Lacey was whisked away by the other girl, finding herself over with the boy, Collin was his name, and his little posse of friends. Surely, Amber had been correct to announce the other boys as being cute, though very little particularly brought her towards any sort of flirting mood at the moment. She was Amber's wing-man, right? That was all she really had to focus on for the moment.

"You made it just in time.." Colin uttered slyly, and Lacey found herself almost caught off guard. "we're about to drop tabs."She blinked a few times, still processing the statement while she stood there, watching the boy's friend passing out what looked like a simple little piece of paper, but was far from it in the least. Druggee, huh? She had to admit she was surprised. He hadn't seemed like he'd been into that kinda shit when they'd spotted him in the diner. He seemed like he would have been the typical preppy sort of boy, almost, a good guy who'd be a designated driver once in a while, but she supposed it wasn't like there weren't tons of people who conveyed a certain atmosphere to cover up what was going on when no one else was looking. Lacey, of course, was one of those sorts of people, albeit not in the same exact sense as Collin over here.

She stared down at the little sheet in her hand that the boy's friend had distributed to her, her smiling face gone while she pondered it. Acid, huh? Not a good idea. Hugs not drugs, and whatever, aside, she couldn't say she was really into the whole scene, so, she should have just dropped it and walked away, right? Take Amber with her and tell her to forget about the guy, right? Drinking was one thing, but who could have said what kind of trouble they were to get themselves into while they were tripping out? A good friend would have gotten her out of there, wouldn't she? And yet, here she was, still staring down at it, considering. Tonight was about fun, forgetting all the shit that was going on and trying to wash all the hell out of her system. Her mind wavered back to Stanford, to her family, to her siblings with halos around their heads. To every time she failed and every time she'd looked in the mirror and cried. To every time she asked someone if they were okay and no one knew that she wasn't. To every time she felt worthless and unloved and ugly. She was a friend and never a girlfriend, good but never perfect, pretty but never beautiful.

Without a moment more of hesitation, she popped the little sheet into her mouth, shutting her eyes while she felt it dissolve against her tongue. Tonight was about having fun, and she was tired of all this depressing bullshit. If finally getting over it all was as stake, even if it was only for a little while, then hell, she'd do whatever it takes. She could worry about regretting it later. For now, she spread her smile once again across her still mostly-painted lips, giving her gaze back to Amber with a light laugh. Amber seemed to be waiting for Lacey's reaction to decide what to do, and Lacey simply gave the girl a shrug, as if to say, 'hey, why not?'