Author's note: idea taken from the book Perfect Chemistry by Simone Elkeles. So I don't own the concept or the idea to this story (99% of the time). I just saw Bellarke the entire time after I read the book for the millionth of time, I hope you guys enjoy it. :)

Thanks to htgawbellarke for beta-ing my work and hooksandheroics on tumblr for helping me out with the tagalog parts.

Hair is brushed neat and straight. Check. Wrinkle free blouse on. Check. New jeans on. Check. Clarke looks into her mirror one last time before she goes downstairs to meet her mother and sister.

It sounds like a first day of the school routine, not like it isn't, but this is an every day routine when it comes to Clarke. Looking perfect, dressing perfect, and being perfect. Clarke could be everyone's dictionary definition for perfection, having a beautiful face, and impeccable grades are the least of it. But that's only everyone else's definition of her and how they think of her, what Clarke really is like is beyond what they think. Truth is, perfection doesn't exist, and Clarke has to work her ass off to create such an image for the rest of the world. This is what everyone in the school expects of her: she is the captain of the cheerleader team with a sweet toothy smile, the rich girl with designer clothes and expensive bags, the social butterfly excelling in all of her classes destroying the pretty blonde stereotype. This is what her mother expects.

"Clarke, breakfast!" her mom yells.

"Yeah I'm coming," Clarke replies as she jogs down the stairs. As soon as she sees her sister, Charlotte, by the kitchen table, she kisses her on the cheeks. "And how are you, my beautiful sister?"

Charlotte wiggles in her wheelchair excitedly as a response and shoots Clarke a bright smile. These days, Charlotte is probably the only people who can truly make Clarke feel like a person, not just some doll everyone molds and fixes her to be. Her sister just somewhat understands her, and always gives her an encouraging smile when she feels too down with everything going on in her life.

"Clarke honey, since you are at it, can you wipe your sister's mouth, she's drooling." Her mother is by the fridge, taking out the salad.

Clarke grabs the cloth on the table and gently dabs her sister's mouth clean. Being already ten, she still needs help with eating; chewing and swallowing are difficult tasks limited by her conditions. Cerebral Palsy is something her sister has had to live with her entire life, being a little bit noisy and messy does not bother Clarke about her sister at all. Clarke knows her mother is ashamed of her sister, of who she is, of who she cannot be because of her conditions; her mother's ignorance frustrates Clarke and she knows this is probably why her mother puts so much pressure on her instead. But for her, it doesn't matter at all, she'll do anything for her sister and she will be by her sister's side as long as she lives.

"Mom, is the new nanny coming today?" Clarke asks while still smiling at Charlotte.

"Uh…Demi? Debrah? Yeah, I called her yesterday." Her mother answers absent-mindedly.

"So is she coming?" Clarke asks once more.

"Yes. Now honey take the muffin I left on the table, you can't be eating nothing for breakfast." Her mother says quickly still strolling around the kitchen grabbing something from here and there. "Although people do say, a perfect body is important, but eating nothing is definitely not on the list."

"Yes mom," Clarke sighs at her mother's clumsy attempt to ignore the nanny topic and grabs the muffin while still juggling with her bag and her keys.

As she is about to walk out her mother stops her.

"Clarke wait," her mother looks at her with concern. "You can't go out like that, you've got Charlotte's drool on your shirt."

Clarke looks down, a small wet patch was visibly shown on the front of her chest. "Oh mom it's nothing, it's just a little bit, it will dry out."

"Clarke, go upstairs and change." Her mother tells her strictly.

Knowing her mother, she is not going to let her go until she's done with what she's been told, Clarke sighs and runs upstairs. Yes, don't ruin the perfect girl image. Look perfect, be perfect. She really has no time to deal with her mother's immaturity and grabs a blue scarf and wraps it around her neck. Luckily her mother does not notice and let her walk through the door afterward.

She starts her car and begrudgingly took a bite into her muffin. Gross, it is raisins not blueberries. She tosses the muffin aside. So much for a perfect breakfast.

"Wake up, Bell," a voice sings beside his ear, Bellamy stirs a little.

Then a sudden weight falls on him causing him to almost jump out of the bed.

"Jusko, what are you doing?!" he hisses. Realizing it is only his sister, he tries to cover his head with his pillow to get a little bit more peace. But it is kind of hard to fall back to sleep when his sister is jumping on his bed. "O, please stop."

"Nuh uh, nanay told me to wake you up, and I'm not going to stop until you get your butt out of your bed." Octavia laughs hard as she jumps on.

"O, tumigil ka na nga," he glares at her through his pillow.

"Hey you can stop bossing me around, I am grown now." Octavia stands tall and proudly pats her own chest a few times. "I'm about to graduate."

"Yeah from elementary school," Bellamy answers with a smile and pokes his sister's nose. "And a grown person wouldn't jump on people's beds."

She gets off of his bed right away to let him get ready. He swiftly moves out and goes straight to the shower. When he comes out of the shower later, already in his dark ripped jeans and a black tee he grabbed randomly out of his closet, he notices his sister holding his bandana and trying to tie it around her hair.

"O, wag mong gagalawin yan," he immediately pulls it out of her hand.

"But why, Bell? You know I like the colours red and black!" Octavia pouts at him.

He sighs. Octavia knows he is in a gang, the whole family knows, but she does not know the danger and severity it is to be in one. To her the bandana is probably just an accessory but to him it means something much darker. It is his vow of his life to keep the food on the table, to keep his family safe. There is no way he is going to give her the real explanation, but there is also no way he is going to let her come close to anything that affiliates to his or any gangs.

"O, I told you before to never touch my Delinquents stuff, don't touch it ever again ok?" He says it sternly, his sister looks at him sadly. "I'll get you ice cream later."

His sister thinks for a while and smiles. He ties the bandana around his wrist and pats his sister's head softly.

"If you two don't come downstairs right now, one of you is going to clean the floor on the weekends." Their mother shouts from across the hall.

Bellamy swears under his breath, and pushes Octavia toward the door.

"Go, nanay is mad," he chuckles. "I'll be down soon."

Octavia nods and hurries off.

He lets out a sigh and hopes this will be the last time in a while that he has to talk about his gang stuff with his sister. Sometimes he has the verge to quit because he fears Octavia will someday be influenced by him and follows his footsteps, but calling it quits is easier said than done both by the gang rule and also by life. He quickly shakes these thoughts out of his head and grabs his bag, rushing out of his door. As he does, he is immediately greeted by his mother and before he can even react she drags him by his ear.

"Ah nay, stop!" he yelps. "I said I'd be there soon."

"Clearly not soon enough. Octavia is almost done with her food already, and you are still in your room." Aurora, his mother glares at him. "Go and eat now. Before it gets cold."

Bellamy huffs and mumbles a yes as she finally lets go of his ear. He never liked breakfast, never knew why it was so important. He would rather give his part to Octavia or his own mother, but knowing his family, they would just force it down his throat. He quickly finishes his food and walks towards the door. Giving his mother a quick peck on the cheeks, "don't miss me too much, mama."

She rolls her eyes, hands him his leather jacket and pushes him gently toward the door. "Don't be late for school."

"Bye ma, bye O!" he pulls on his jacket and smiles to them as he walks out of the door.

He goes around to his garage to fire up his motorcycle, and sees a few people from his gang already waiting for him across the street. They give him a quick hand signal and he returns it. As he is pulling on his helmet, he notices his ex-girlfriend, Roma, coming toward his way.

"Hey," she says seductively, as she is perking up her boobs a little as she asks. The tight tank top and the short black skirt she is wearing doesn't faze him at all. "Give me a ride, Bell? Like the old times?"

He tenses. Sure they had a history, but they were all in the past. He doesn't want to deal with her at all, not after catching her with another guy doing it in his own damn car. Pretty much the reason why he has a bike now. He wants to ignore her, but she is a Delinquent, and Delinquents always have each other's backs.

"Whatever, hop on." He says through his helmet, looking forward without even glancing at her. She joyfully jumps on, and wraps her arms around his waist purposely pulling him a bit tighter than usual. She is probably trying to win him back, but whatever tactic she uses, he won't be fazed at all.

"I am telling you Clarke, if I don't get English with you again this year, I'll probably die of boredom in Hayn's class." Monroe complains in the passenger seat.

"Ok but Hayn doesn't teach seniors." Clarke chuckles a little.

"Alright there, Ms. Know-it-all, just trying to show you how important you are to me." Monroe laughs. "But seriously, I will be so mad if you are not going to be in my English class, for the third time."

As Clarke is getting into the empty parking space, or she thinks is an empty parking space, she comes to a screeching stop when she almost comes in contact with a motorcycle. The girl on the back of the seat looks like she is ready to kill, and flips both of them off.

"What the hell, bitch?" The girl fumes at them.

"Uh sorry," Clarke calls out. "I didn't see you guys there."

Then the rider pulls out of his helmet hastily, and shakes his wild dark curls out of his eyes giving Clarke the angriest glare she has ever seen. Clarke feels a little bit of chills tickling through her spine as she realizes whom she almost bumps into. Just her luck, it has to be the Bellamy Blake. The boy who is known to be nothing but trouble, the boy who probably has knife fights for fun, the boy who wouldn't blink twice when he is behind a trigger. Everyone in the school knows about Bellamy Blake and his infamous gang, the Delinquents. No one has really seen what they are capable of doing, those who have didn't get a chance to tell, because Bellamy and his gang made sure people would stay out of their ways. Knowing her fate of her life if she does not move any faster, she fumbles her stick shift messily trying to pull her car out of his way, but the reverse is hard to find when she is driving a stick. Yes her mother's great idea of getting her a stick car without even asking her if she knew how to drive it well. Bellamy seems impatient, and is getting out of his bike without breaking the intense eye contact with her, his fierce eyes boring right through her.

"Munroe, a little help here…" Clarke mumbles as she is still struggling with the stick.

"Hey don't ask me, I only drive automatics. And also I am in the middle of praying to God, hoping that Bellamy and his gang won't kill us right now or hunt us down and kill us in our sleep if we actually get out of here." Monroe whispers quietly as if he could actually hear them.

As he kicks the stand of his bike down, making his way toward her, she finally finds the reverse, backs it out right away and drives off without even thinking.

He huffs as she drives away.

"Come on, Bellamy, that rich plastic bitch ain't worth it," Roma leans close to him.

He just stares on.

"Clarke, nothing you will ever do can top what happened." Monroe says dramatically.

Clarke makes sure to park her car on the complete opposite side of the school to avoid any contact with Bellamy or his friends. Everything is settled and done, she is just going to walk it off and pretend none of it ever happened.

"Sorry, I just…" Clarke is cut off as she sees Bellamy, no not just him, but most of his gang friends are hanging around the entrance of the school. So much for avoiding him.

"Just ignore him, and walk straight." Monroe whispers into her ear cautiously.

Of course Bellamy is not going to make it that easy, and walks straight up in front of Clarke blocking her to go any farther. She is scared, of course she is, she is about to meet her death. But she is not going to show it, she still likes to keep her reputation clean.

"Well well, princess," Bellamy speaking with a haughty tone. He smirks down at her, still blocking her with his intimidating stance. "Aren't you a lousy driver."

She almost rolls her eyes but she knows it is better to not aggravate him any further. The guy might have wild wooly hair, a nicely structured face, deep chocolate eyes, and a ridiculous well-fit body good enough to be an Abercombie model, but right now he is definitely not aiming to look sexy. Everyone in the school knows it not to mess with Bellamy, or any of his friend, or anyone from the south side of the town in general. Water and oil don't mix, same thing applies to the south and the north. But it is also more than just how they don't fit, the North all purposely try to stay out of the South's way.

He is still staring her down, then his eyes swifts up and down over her body. Clarke is used to people checking her out, she knows she is pretty much like a real life Barbie doll. But having someone, especially when that someone is Bellamy Blake, checking her out so up close and so shamelessly makes her feel a sudden wave of unease.

"Next time, watch where you are going," he huffs out.

Oh yeah, he is intimidating her, but she is not going to let his alpha complex bother her. Who is he to lock her down to put her in her place? She is not going to let him get her around like she has to listen to him. It isn't entirely her fault anyway, he wasn't even in the parking spot completely.

"Thanks for the tip," she replies to him bitterly.

Surprised by her response, the sides of his lips quirk up.

"If you want a real man to teach you how to drive, I can give you a few lessons." He bites his bottom lip. All of his friends roar with laughter and catcalls.

She is not going to give him the satisfaction of winning.

"If you are a real man, you would open the door for me." She shoots at him.

Without a beat, he pulls the door open for her, and bows dramatically.

"There you go, your highness," he mocks her.

She furrows her brows, "just get a life."

"Mhmm, like yours? Di bale," he stands tall again and leans close to her face. "Here is something you should know, not everyone grew up fed with a silver spoon into their mouths and their ass wiped with golden silks. But whatever, it's all materialistic, very much like you, isn't it?"

"Better materialistic than a loser with only his ego as his biggest thing." Clarke fights back, pulling Monroe who is just fumbling on her phone looking at nothing just trying to look busy.

She hears him and his friends laugh again, and she shakes her head with disbelief. Materialistic? She knows she is, but she doesn't need him to tell her that. As she walks farther down into the hallway, far far away from Bellamy, she realizes how fanatically her heart is beating the entire time. She refuses to say she was scared, but she hopes she will never have another interaction with Bellamy or any of his friends ever again.

"No prayers are going to save you from being killed in your sleep." Monroe speaks hastily.

"Ok, someone has to speak up to him. Just because he's a macho with his gang affiliation, doesn't mean he can go around and push people around." Clarke says impatiently.

"I heard he killed a man before, wait cross that, more than just a man." Monroe adds.

"Monroe, please. What make you think he will kill me over something so stupid like this?" Clarke reassures her friend, or rather, herself.

"I don't know maybe it's the gang colour his wearing, or wait, the gun and knife hidden everywhere under his jacket and pants." Her friend gives her a look.

"Seriously? I'm pretty sure he didn't bring any weapons to school, he's not that stupid." Clarke sighs. "Ok can we not talk about this? This is the first day, first day of the last year in high school. Celebrate, it's almost over!"

"Celebrate that your life is almost over?" Monroe raises one of her eyebrow.

"Whose life is almost over?"

Finn Colins, her quarterback boyfriend, catches her lips by surprise. As cliché as it may sound, he is the perfect boyfriend. Gentle eyes and wavy hair, soft smile always hanging on his lips, he is one of the happiest people she has ever met. In school, they are known as the varsity duo and the golden couple, Clarke couldn't be happier with him, but still sometimes she wonders if Finn feels the same way too.

"Oh it's nothing, Monroe just have a lot of imaginations." Clarke sends Monroe a dark glare and she just shrugs her shoulders back at her.

Finn seems to buy it and nods. "Sorry babe, I didn't call you when I get back from camping. All the unpacking and you know how hectic the last few days of summer can be."

"Hey you came back, alive and healthy. That's all it matters," she kisses him lightly feeling his smile against her lips.

He wraps his arm around her waist and walks her down to her first class. Then they saw Bellamy and his group of friends walking across the hall intersecting them in the front. She could feel Munroe tensing up a little again, but Clarke is holding herself strong. Finn doesn't seem to notice the change in atmosphere and mumbles,

"So tired of seeing them strolling around in school as if they own the place. They don't even do much other than failing all of their classes, why are they even here?"

She feels her strong exterior collapses a little when her eyes meet with Bellamy's momentarily as he walks by. Then she lets out a sigh,

"Finn, I almost crashed my car into Bellamy today."

"Almost? What stopped you?" he chuckles.

"Finn…" Clarke reprimands.

"What? You'll probably do everyone a favour by doing that. At least it will be something exciting to talk about for a while in school."

Clarke doesn't answer him and furrows her brows. Exciting? She almost got into a car crash with Bellamy Blake. How is that not exciting?

Translation to the tagalog:

jusko - 'my god' (expression)

nanay - 'mom'

tumigil ka na nga - 'behave'

wag mong gagalawin yan - 'don't touch that'

Di bale - 'it doesn't matter'

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