Heh. Update.

... Sorry I've been away for so long. I'll get round to updating other stuff. Some time.

And also, I changed the summary of this story. Added another pairing. I live on BryanXTala and IanXKevin, they're the best. Seriously.

The White Tigers coming in will make sense... Eventually.

Guest reviewer: Awwww thanks ^_^ it was actually this review that inspired me to write this chapter. I've got the next one planned out too, so I'll write it up soon.

kawaii-chibi-kai: OH MY GOD IM SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING IN LIKE AGES but here I am now. Thanks for the review! ( ^ω^ )

Warnings: swearing and stuff. The usual really.

Disclaimer: see some other chapter. Actually, they all direct you to chapter one. Yeah. See chapter one.

Believe it or not, I don't actually hate Bryan and Tala. I'm just ridiculously scared of them and want to stay out of their way at all costs. But I don't hate them.

I can even understand why they're doing the 'if murder was legal, Kon, then you'd be in 467 pieces by now' thing on me. In all fairness I did walk in on them sucking face.

... Kissing.

I meant kissing.

And I understand that because of that, it's normal that they want to season my kidneys with pepper and eat them for dinner, followed by boiled liver and fried brain fillets. All belonging to me, of course.

So, I don't hate them as such. Sure, they're intimidating, sadistic, psychopathic and ruthless. But hate is a strong word. Plus, I barely know them.

But, do you know who I do hate? Who I want to lock in a cupboard with hungry honey badgers who've only been fed flies and bloodworms for four weeks? Take a guess.

If you guessed Ming-Ming, which you didn't... You're right.

She's just so... Uuurrrggghhh.

Pull yourself together now, Ray. Don't loose your cool just yet. You've still got to get through the rest of the holidays.

Slap-able, you know? She's just so slap-able. Every word that comes from her lipgloss-coated lips just makes me wanna freak out and smack her. But I won't. Because that would be extremely horrible, and I'm a nice guy.

Oh, just stay out of her way, Ray. I can almost hear your thoughts. Actually, you're wondering why I hate her, and since writing down your feelings is meant to make you feel better or something, then I shall tell you.

It all started with her birth. She was a spoilt child, getting children's cutlery made out of solid gold, decorated in crystals and diamonds-

Maybe not that far back. Although being born is where it all started.

Not that I'm saying I wish she was never born. Because, as I've mentioned before: I'm a nice person.

Anyway. Moving on.

If I let myself rant on forever about why she's so annoying, irritating, infuriating etc. by the time I'm done it would be night time. A week later. Therefore, I shall have to shorten this little speech.

She's a slut.

There, done, one word to describe her entire existence. Now back off and leave me alone.

I'm sorry, okay?! From the bottom of my heart, I am truly sorry. I can't apologise enough, honestly.

... Nah. I'm not.

She flirts with everything! No exaggeration! No joke, at all! If it's a male human being, she will hit on him, battering her stupid mascara-coated eyelashes and twirling her stupid hair around her stupid finger with a stupid innocent expression on her stupid face.

Please don't judge me for this. I'm still the nice guy of the BladeBreakers who is always there for people and helps out, etc etc. But I have opinions! And they need to be acknowledged!

Tala, Garland, Tyson, Brooklyn. They may not be obvious, but she's done the slut-girl act on them. Not always (actually, never) with the results she expected; Tala threatened her with rabid dogs, Garland and Brooklyn took it as some cute friendship thing, Tyson looked at her as if she was some annoying two-year-old begging for him to play My Little Pony with her.

Unsurprisingly, her expression afterwards is not one of someone who's happy.

But her most recent victim is shocking.

Scary.

Terrifyingly messed up.

You will scream.

It's...

Spencer.

Yes. I know. I heard your gasp of surprise, I practically saw the shocked look that took over your face. I'm as creeped out as you are, my friend. But don't worry. We can get through this together.

I believe in us.

How do you go through it all cause baby deep down, I believe in us.

Even when my back's up against the wall, I ain't gon' bail down when the times get rough.

Anything you need girl, you know I would.

So shut the fuck up if that's what it took.

So ain't no way I'm giving up.

I believe in us, I believe in us, I believe in us.

No...? Okay.

Word count because I'm a saddo: 707 words ranting about Slut-Slut. Seven hundred and seven. Seven zero seven. Wow. I need a life.

Shhh... Wait... There's something knocking at my door.

Standing up, I go to answer it, somehow managing to throw half of my bed covers on the floor as I do so. Now do you see why people call me graceful?

I take a deep breath, hoping and praying that the creature behind the door isn't Russian and dangerous, and slowly turn the handle.

Oh, hey there, coincidence. Didn't see you lurking behind my bedroom door with your dagger of sadism. Welcome, come in, make yourself at home.

Because it's not a Russian.

It's something almost as bad (but not quite. This thing doesn't want to rip me open).

Slut-Slut.

"Oh, hey there Ming-Ming!" Gotta be nice. Gotta be polite. Can't call her Slut-Slut directly, something will drown (in her tears most likely.)

Why is she here?! Is she going on to me now?! Looking at her standing before me, seeing her stupid face and stupid makeup and stupid clothes and stupid hair and stupid existence... That lamp on my nightstand looks heavy. And sharp. Maybe if I smash it over her hea-

Whoa, Ray. Stop these violent thoughts man. You're a nice person, everyone knows that. Fantasying about smashing glass over a girls head? Not cool, dude. Not cool at all.

"Heya Ray! Can I come in?" Her stupid whiny voice rings out, making my ears bleed and head thump. It's agonising.

"Yeah, su-" oh no, never mind, come in and get comfortable Slut-Slut, you bitch. Totally okay to walk into a guys room without his permission. Not that I'd deny her access anyway. But this is like trespassing, and against my human rights.

"Your rooms' so pretty, Ray-Ray!" It's on to double name calling now, huh? Whoa, honey pie. Shit just got serious.

"Eh, thanks, Slu- Ming-Ming."

No. I totally did not just nearly call her Slut-Slut shut up.

I'm lying I did.

I watch, dying inside, as she sits on my bed and crosses her legs. And GUESS WHAT?! SHE'S WEARING A SKIRT AND WHEN SHE CROSSES HER LEGS OH GOD.

Please, please, please, girl. Pull your skirt down. Before I ma-

Actually, I'd rather not go over to her and pull her skirt down. I think I'll pass on that.

Trying desperately not to look at her, I gaze around the room. But it's a bit hard when my room is tiny and I have a multi-coloured blue-haired short-skirted girl sitting in the middle of it.

Thanks a bunch, Slut-Slut, really appreciate it. Now get the fuck out.

"Not being rude or anything, Ming, but is there a reason why you're here?"

"No, I just wanted to talk! Sit with me!"

You know what, I think I'll decline on that offer. Oh wait. Sudden realisation: it's not an offer. It's a demand.

Gulp.

Be right back gonna go die.

I cautiously sit next to her on the bed, making sure I definitely don't make contact with her at all. Can't take any risks, huh. Don't want her getting the wrong idea.

"Well. So. How are you, Ming?" Best. Conversationalist. Ever.

"I'm great, thanks, Ray-Ray! Russia is beautiful!"

Wait. Stop right there. Are you... Touching me? Is your hand making contact with me? Nuh-uh, Slut-Slut, you can stop right there.

"Yeah, it uh, it certainly is. Very... Snowy."

Someone give me a medal. Make that three. I deserve to be treated.

This physical contact is making me feel uncomfortable. Especially because it's touching my leg. Please make it stop.

"It's great! We hardly ever get snow in Japan, so we've gotta make the most of it, huh?"

... She's... Moving her hand up my leg. She's at my knee now. Oh please, anyone, even

Tala or Bryan; save me.

"Mm. Yeah. You're, uh right."

HOLY FUCK SHE'S AT MY THIGH.

I can feel her position change as she leans closer to me, and whispers in my ear:

"We better make the most of this whole trip."

If I was drinking right now... The phrase 'spits team doesn't even begin to describe what would've happened. And to make matters worse, remember that issue about her hand? Yeah? Well, it's climbed further up my thigh. I need to do something. And fast.

Suddenly standing up, I turn to her and force a smile. "A thousand apologies, Ming, but I've got work to do. Lots of work. That'll take ages. And ages. Nicetotalktoyouseeyoulater byeeee!"

And she's gone. Out the door. Just turn around now. Cause you're not welcome any more.

But the thing is, I've got god knows how long left here.

And I don't know if I will survive.

Yeah, no Ian unfortunately. But I wanted a calmer chapter, and I promise he'll be in the next one! As well as Max fangirling over Lady Gaga. Yeah. That's right. I can see you squealing in joy.

And ew this new document layout thing. Ew.

Please R&R!