A/N: Hello, welcome to this wild, wild story. There will be many trigger warnings all throughout. Please read them, and take care of yourself first.

The Most Unawesomest of Lies:

Ah yes, sleep. Sleep is good. Sleep is awesome. But, do you want to know what's even more awesome? Sleeping in. And, unfortunately for me, the world seemed determined to prevent that from happening. My alarm's blaring rooster ring tone echoed and pounded against my bedroom walls, doing nothing but make my pounding headache worse. Said headache was caused by drinking – more like chugging – ten beers last night. But Gil, why did you drink ten beers? Well, my less awesome friends, let's just say that me and Lud had an intense drinking competition last night. – I swear to fucking God if any of you peasants dare to correct me on my grammar…

Anyways, my head's really scattered, so you'll just have to bear with me here. Hi! My name's Gillian Beilschmidt and I'm anything but your typical run of the mill teenage girl. For one thing, I have this weird shade of whitish-blonde hair that makes people think that I'm an old lady. But it's cool, because my hair is super long, so if anyone gives me an odd stare I can always just flip my glorious mane and strut off like the indefinite badass that I am.

Another anomaly of mine is that I have red eyes. Yes, you heard me correctly: I have red eyes. But red doesn't sound cool enough, so I'll be taking a few liberties by describing them as crimson. Oh, and lest we forget about my pasty skin complexion. You see, I'm what you call an albino. Basically, I'm so pale that the makeup artists from Twilight used my photo as a frame of reference. Okay, maybe that was a bit of a stretch. You'll also come to learn that I have a weird, self-deprecating, and sometimes even cryptic sense of humor. With my life, however, you'd understand why I act and think so morbidly.

Wow, Gil, way to get all depressing! So…where were we? Ah! That's right! My morning alarm was going off. (Fuck that, I'm getting way too awesome for this shit).

The scratchy, ear-piercing shriek of my ring tone only got louder with each waking minute that I neglected to turn it off. Groaning, I tossed and turned, even going so far as to place a pillow over my head, slightly suffocating myself in the process.

Usually by this time, Lud would have come in to wake me, but due to our drinking 'shenanigans' last night, he was most likely out for a morning run. In fact, he had probably taken his adorable little Italian girlfriend, Felicia, along with him. Apparently, fresh morning air helped cure a hangover. Eh, I couldn't be bothered to get up at four in the morning. Heck, I can't even get up at seven-thirty, the time that I lie to myself every night, deluding my brain into thinking I'd actually be able to get my lazy arse out of bed in the morning. Said lazy arse was currently glued to her comfy sanctum of fluffy blankets, pillows, and entourage of loyal stuffed animals.

I let the phone buzz off for another two minutes before I finally mustered the courage to hop out of bed, willing myself to face off against the frigid, poorly-heated airs of my small apartment. I trudged into the bathroom and began to brush my teeth, rocking out to some tunes that were playing out loud on my iPhone. I was in a rush because it was now 7:45; the bus for school came at 8:00 AM sharp.

As you can see, I like to live off the wild, euphoric sensation of procrastination. If Lud were here, he'd be lecturing me on my tardiness. Ja, my brother was one of those insane, OCD freaks. He has a schedule for everything! Every hour of the day is planned with excessive detail. He even plans his bathroom breaks (*cringes*). And then there was me, a girl who acted out on the whims that proved to be the most entertaining.

No matter, I still enjoyed my life – somewhat – and that's all I could really ask for. Sure, life could be better – a lot better – but I'll always be grateful for having Lud in my life. Lud has helped me through some really tough times, all the way back to when we were little, when our parents were killed in a car crash. You would think that with me being the older sister, our roles would be reversed, but there was just something so calming and soothing about Lud that always helped me maintain my cool. Lud was a composed and orderly person, but he had a heart of gold that was capable of more compassion than most people could achieve in their lifetime.

For close to two years now, we've been living on our own in this small, ratty apartment. For the most part, we were brought up by whatever Nannies our Opa hired for us, as he still lived out in Germany. Once I turned sixteen, however, I had finally managed to convince him to let us live by ourselves.

Unfortunately, to teach me a lesson, as I had never been one to follow the rules, Opa gave us just enough money to scrape by every month. Our grandfather was rich. He owned several successful construction companies in Germany, and because of this, he sought to teach us the value of money. We had enough money to cover rent, utilities, groceries, clothes, and extra activities such as school trips, but if we wanted to have fun and go out, we would need to get a job. Lud worked at a bakery down the street with a nice Belgian lady for a boss.

But as for me? I didn't go outside that often, nor did I ever feel the need to do so. I was much more comfortable staying home in the apartment, working on my blog, or if I got bored and desperate enough, my homework. The world was a harsh place…and I just got depressing again, didn't I?

I shook my head, clearing it from these irksome thoughts. I have a good life, and nothing I do now will change the past anyhow. It was best to move on and forget. Lord knows how much Lud prayed for that to happen. He was a good brother to me, that kid. He worried too much for his own good. Under his stern mask, he truly did care for my well-being, and I likewise.

Lud was my rock, and although my pride would never let me admit this out loud, I looked up to him. Once I get a hold over my life again, I aspire to be more like him. For reasons I don't want to go into right now, I had a missed a good six months of school last year. I was supposed to be a senior, but due to this unprecedented absence, I'm still technically considered to be a junior.

Although, I can't say this bothers me much. I was in no shape to be applying to Universities, let alone being in the right mind-set to make any life-altering decisions. If I could, I would blog for a living. But alas, 2000 followers doesn't cut it in the real world. Oh well, if my blog doesn't work out, I can always just resort to modelling! Beauty like mine can't be contained; the whole world needs to bask in my awesomeness!

Cupping some water in my hands, I splashed my pale face, hoping that this action would wake me up. I looked really tired. Seriously though, the circles under my eyes were dark enough to be bruises. Sigh, such is the life of your friendly neighborhood pale person.

Gargling and swishing around some nasty-tasting Listerine in my mouth, I burst back into my bedroom. I slapped on a pair of black stockings, a blue plaid skirt, a white blouse, and a matching blue tie; all pieces of which ensembled my school's crappy uniform.

I inspected myself in the closet mirror, twirling around to get a view of my flat butt and awkwardly thin and lanky body. My uniform was wrinkled and untidy from not being hung up properly. The knots and tangles in my hair didn't help with my appearance either.

I combed through my hair with my fingers, cursing under my breath as I worked through several cinqs. I then grabbed my backpack, slapped it over one shoulder, and hurried off into the kitchen. Hopefully Lud wouldn't notice that I had spit out my mouthwash in the kitchen sink. On top of being a neat freak, the boy was also a raging germaphobe.

With a piece of half-burnt toast dangling out of my mouth, I grabbed my keys from the kitchen table and bustled over to the front door. Quickly, I slipped on my favourite white, knee-high combat boots. After what had felt like an eternity of lacing up those badboys, I sprinted out of the apartment, my hair wildly flailing behind me.

I shouldered past my neighbors, who were so very rudely standing in the middle of the hallway – seriously, did they not know how to make way for their Queen?! – earning myself plenty of glares and friendly hand gestures. Pft! I know that I'm number one! They didn't have to tell me!

Making my way down the building's spiralling staircase, – and taking three second breaks at each floor's landing, as I wasn't the most athletic person out there – I stopped at the third floor, ravenously finishing the cruddy remnants of my toast. So not awesome.

Just when I was about to embark on my mad dash for the bus-stop again, my phone buzzed. After smearing my buttery fingers against the back of my skirt, I pulled out my phone from my backpack. When I saw who had texted me, however, I didn't hesitate to put my phone right back where it came from.

I was having a good morning, and whatever that person had to say could wait.

…

I slowed down to a walk upon realizing that I still had five minutes to spare before the bus came. With a characteristic cocky grin on my face, I walked up behind the tense boy whom had unwillingly decided to keep me company.

Shivering into his red scarf, and already in a grumpy mood from the cold, Romano sat hunched over on the bus-stop's bench. I could tell that it was him, because one: I could hear him swearing in Italian. And two: I could spot the stray auburn curl sticking out from the rest of his head. The boy was probably just grumpy that his precious little sister was spending time with Lud.

Placing my hands on the back of the bench, I snuck up behind Romano and chuckled. "Morning sunshine!"

The reaction I had hoped for was the exact reaction I gleefully received.

Romano spun around and cried out when he saw me towering over him. He blushed, swore, and just about shit his pants all at once. "Chigi! The fuck was that for?!" he roared, his amber eyes narrowing into a scowl when he recognized who I was.

"Oh, it's just you," Romano huffed, stubbornly turning around so that he wouldn't have to look at me and my demon face. His words, not mine.

Romano and I had an interesting relationship. We both 'hated' each other. Secretly, we accepted our differences. Perhaps deep down we were 'somewhat' fond of each other. But, then again, I was fond of anything I could bug the crap out of. In all honesty though, Romano wasn't that bad. Although, you won't ever hear me say this to his face. Ever!

The poor boy worked hard to support himself and his younger sister. The two Italian siblings lived in the apartment building across from mine. I didn't get to know much of Romano until he began dating Isabel, and Felicia, Lud. From what I know, their parents had also died when they were little. They lived with their grandpa until he had passed away last year. I've only talked to Romulus once – before even knowing the Italian siblings – but he was a really cool dude. RIP, man.

After Romulus's death, Romano took it upon himself to raise Felicia. And he did a good job at it too. Felicia was a bright, bubbly girl that brought smiles to the faces of those around her. It was a pity that Romano didn't follow his own advice because he was hands down the most miserable person I've ever met. He was bitter, sarcastic, and spiteful in stark contrast with his sister. Despite this, I always kept a special place in my 'cold, dead' heart for him.

I felt for Romano, I really did. On top of school, he had to work a full-time job at a run-down pizza place. Something had to pay for the bills, after all. Felicia always offered to find a job of her own, but Romano would always refuse this, stubbornly lecturing her on how she should be focusing on her schooling and nothing else. When we could, Lud and I would help the Vargas siblings out by giving them some extra money for groceries. Of course, Romano's dignity would never allow that.

Romano always had to repay us in some way, and usually that came in the form of a random knock on our door at midnight and several abandoned Tupperware containers of pasta resting on our doorstep. Lest I forget about the 'go fuck yourselves, I don't need your help' post-it notes that were usually taped to said Tupperware containers. The Italian had an odd way of giving his thanks, but we still nonetheless accepted his crude expressions of gratitude.

With a dramatic sigh, I plopped down on the bench, purposefully sitting as close as I possibly could to Romano. He was still acting all pissy because of my prank. I draped both arms over the bench in a casual, nonchalant manner, knowing that this would only annoy him further. The boy liked his personal space, and I loved to intrude on it.

While I began to hum loudly, bored out of my mind, Romano's ears reddened with anger. He still refused to look at me when he spoke. "Do you ever shut up?" he snarled.

I cocked my head to the side, innocently batting my eyelashes at him. Not that it really mattered because the jackwad still had his pretentious head turned to the side. I had half the mind to reach over there and yank on his cowlick. "Maybe if you ask nicely," I hummed, merrily increasing my awesome singing volume – you're welcome.

Romano irately clicked his tongue. "Can you can shut up for me?"

Huh, that's weird. Why was he acting so nice, and not like, you know, the grumpy, sexually frustrated douche I had come to hate? Whatever, I wasn't satisfied just yet. My sadistic appetite screamed for me to keep egging him on. So, I did. What can I say? The life-long duty of a shit-disturber was calling out to me. Who was I to ignore it?

"I don't know, can I?" I grinned.

"Listen, demon bitch, if you don't hop off my dick right now, I'll-" Romano faltered when he realized the unfortunate implications of his statement.

I howled with laughter, slapping a hand against my thigh for good measure. Romano's face turned so red that I couldn't stop myself from reaching over to poke his puffed-out check. "Choo, Choo," I cooed. "Looks like we need to call the fire department because someone's hot and bothered!"

Romano slapped my hand away and I pouted. "Fine, be that way," I huffed, crossing my arms. I bent over into a slouch, my elbows resting against my thighs. "I was only trying to make the time pass by quicker. If anything, you should be the one entertaining me."

"I think I'll pass," Romano scoffed, rolling his eyes so far back into his head that my hands itched to pull out my water bottle from my backpack. I've seen exorcisms performed on TV before, so surely if I just touched the water, it would instantly become blessed and holy. I repeat; I have a weird sense of humour. Get used to it because it's not going to go away any time soon.

Romano and I sat in silence for another five minutes, shivering in the cold. I offered to warm him up with a hug; he replied with another disgusted click of the tongue. Fine, his loss. I'll just have to grace my awesome presence with someone more deserving than his sorry ass.

HONK! HONK!

A car honked. I looked to my right, a sly smile creeping onto my face as I spotted a red punch buggy slowly weave in and out of traffic, oblivious to the other cars on the road. After what had seemed like five inevitable car accidents, - one of which involved almost crashing into a fire hydrant to avoid running over a squirrel – the red punch buggy squealed to a stop, pulling up against the curb in front of the bus-stop.

Isabel Fernandez-Carriedo, in her fancy new vehicle – courtesy of her insanely rich parents – pulled up in front of us, her green eyes wide with excitement when she saw Romano sitting on the bench. Don't ask me why, but the two of them had been dating for over a year now. It was a bloody miracle that Romano had refrained himself from lashing out at her. Isabel was one of the few people Romano treated with respect.

Of course, this didn't stop Romano from calling Isabel an 'idiota' every two seconds. But even I, the cold-hearted bitch, could tell that Romano truly cared about his lunatic Spanish girlfriend. When Romano saw Isabel, the edge in his expression would disappear. If you looked closely, you could even see the faintest hint of a grin tugging on the corners of his lips.

Reluctantly, Romano stood up to greet his girlfriend, who seemed more than eager to do the very same thing. Isabel stepped out of the car, sprinting towards her now embarrassed boyfriend. She wrapped her arms around Romano's neck, pulling him down into a passionate kiss.

Wide-eyed, Romano tried to pry himself away from his squealing girlfriend. Meanwhile, I stuck out my tongue at him. It was always amusing for me to watch Romano slowly be suffocated by Isabel's crushing hugs.

"Ungh! Isa! I can't. Breathe!" Romano wheezed in between having his lips get attacked by Isabel's glossed ones. I snickered. Looks like someone was going to school with lipstick stains on his face again.

"Muah~!" Isabel cooed, pressing a kiss against Romano's crinkled nose. Scowling, Romano swiped away at the lipstick that had been smudged onto his face. "Roma! I missed you so much~!"

Isabel dove in for another kiss. Quick to learn from his previous mistake, Romano held a hand, placing it against Isabel's forehead as he held the enthusiastic Spaniard back.

Isabel pouted, and after promising to stop, Romano removed his hand.

"AHAH!" Isabel cried out.

While Romano turned around to grab his backpack from the bench, – ignoring the provocative wink I aimed at him – Isabel, the crazy girl, took this opportunity to leap onto his back.

Staggering under the weight of the Spanish fireball, Romano struggled to gain his balance. Isabel laughed and pounded her tiny fists against Romano's back, urging him to walk faster. Romano bucked backwards, while Isabel raised both hands to the air, crying out in joy. The best description I can give you is that it looked like Isabel was riding a bull at the rodeo. Well, at least Romano was angry enough to play the part of the bull.

"ISA! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" said bull imposter/ substitute roared.

Hopping off a relieved Romano's back, and with a truly adorable puppy dog expression on her face, Isabel looked at the ground, letting her mane of long brown curls sweep over her tanned face. "I missed you, Roma," she mumbled shyly. "I just wanted to show my love for you."

With a loathsome sigh, Romano walked up to this pouting girlfriend, raising a lazy finger to flick her in the forehead. "Idiota," he chided, pulling Isabel into a hug. He let her head rest against his collarbone. "I love you too. And what were you thinking?! Driving on your own! I don't care if they passed you, you're a danger to yourself and everyone on the road."

Romano scolded Isabel in the same patronizing, motherly tone he used with Felicia.

Isabel giggled into Romano's scarf, the very same scarf she had knitted for him when they first started dating. Aw, so the arsehole did have a heart. "But I got here alive, didn't I? Aren't you happy, Roma? I can drive you to school now."

The Spaniard beamed, raising a hand to trace a gentle finger along Romano's grimacing jawline. And who could blame him? If he valued his safety, Romano wouldn't get in the car with Isabel. If he valued his relationship, however, Romano would have to risk his safety to get in the car. No one wanted to deal with the Spaniard and her ruthless guilt trips.

Isabel's eyes glanced over in my direction for the first time. Mein Gott, the girl could be so oblivious sometimes. "Gil~!" Isabel screamed, while I covered my ears to ward off any further hearing damage. I loved Isabel as if she were my own sister, but I also loved to hear the raspy awesomeness that was my own voice. As you can see, my priorities are set right where they ought to be.

Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I stood up to greet my friend. "Hey Isabel," I giggled, only to wince when Isabel pulled me into a hug, squeezing my ribs. I think I heard a crack. Wait, was that normal?! I looked past Isabel's shoulders and gave Romano a pleading look.

With a smug smile, and a heartless shrug, the Italian got his revenge from my earlier teasing by letting his overbearing girlfriend crush my lungs. Betrayal flashed across my face as Isabel continued to squeeze me. I was beginning to see spots. Jesus, is that you, mein bearded friend?

"How was your weekend?" Isabel finally retreated from the hug, much to my relief.

Clutching my rib-cage, I gave Isabel a weak smile. "It was okay, I guess. I blogged a bit. Nothing too exciting. You?"

Isabel nodded her head in understanding. She still treated me delicately after last year's incident. I had only been back in school for a month now, and she was always careful not to ask me too many questions. I really wish she wouldn't do that. I'm fine now. Her concern was appreciated, but far from necessary. I may be broken, but I'm not completely shattered like I used to be. I'm fine, and I'll continue to be fine if I move on and forget about what happened. I just wish that everyone would let me move on…

Quick to change the subject when she saw that my expression had turned sour, Isabel turned around. With a perky smile, she gestured towards her car. "My weekend was muy fun. I watched a lot of football. Hop in the back, Gil. I'll drive you both to school."

Romano reached out to grab the cuff of Isabel's jacket, halting her straight in her tracks. "Oh, no you don't," he growled.

Romano held out his right hand. "Your keys. Give them to me," he ordered Isabel through clenched teeth. Isabel's mouth parted open in protest, but when she saw the livid look Romano aimed at her, she reluctantly complied, dropping the car keys into Romano's gloved hand.

Isabel's mood darkened, and with one last disgruntled glare at the indifferent Italian, she shoved herself into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut with an angry smack. Uh-oh, Romano had made her angry. It would take him a good two hours to get Isabel to warm up to him again. Isabel was typically a cheery person, but if you made her made enough, the girl could hold her grudges. Said grudge was evident when Isabel refused to look at Romano when he climbed into the driver's seat.

While I climbed into the backseat, my phone went off again. I must have gasped without realizing it when I saw the text because Romano gave me a strange look. His skeptical amber eyes peered at me through the driver's mirror. Isabel was still too angry to pay any attention to me, and for that, I was glad. All it took was one look for Isabel to know that something was wrong with me. I don't know if I'd be able to fool her into thinking otherwise. I was an open book, forcefully torn open and emotions vulnerable for the reading.

"Everything all right back there, Gillian?" Romano asked me. Wow, he actually referred to me by my name. I must have looked upset.

Let's change that, shall we?

I put on a smile, forcing out a chuckle to hide my trembling lips. "Why Romano! I didn't know you cared so much about me!" I laughed, my voice cracking slightly. My breath hitched, and I swallowed heavily.

To avoid further suspicion, I tapped Romano's shoulder, motioning for him to start the car. "It was just Lud telling me that he and Felicia made it to school safely," I lied.

Romano scoffed. He clearly wasn't falling for anything I had to say. "If you say so," he sighed, putting the car into ignition. The car drove off, and I let my mind into a different place. I leaned back against the seat, ignoring the pounding throbs of my headache.

I urged myself to calm down.

I'm fine. Forget about it and move on, and if that doesn't work, ignore them.

…

Ugh, you could smell the scent of hormones, desperation, and false positivity in the air. I groaned, trudging my way through the cafeteria. I ignored all the judgemental stares I received. They could all go fuck themselves because lord knows how they've all gotten tired of fucking each other.

I made eye contact with a gentle-looking girl with green eyes and bobbed blonde hair. Just to get a kick out of scaring her, I took a ravenous bite from my apple, swirling my tongue over my lips. That's what she got for not taking the social cue to look away. The girl gave a small squeak and averted her gaze to the ground. Hmmph! If only the rest of the school were that easy to throw off. My life would be a whole lot easier, that's for sure.

Speaking of making my life easier, and by easier, I mean way, way, harder there was a certain someone in the room who had dedicated the rest of her high school life towards making mine miserable; my ex-best friend, Elizabeta Héderváry.

Story time! Last year at a party, her arrogant bastard of a boyfriend tried to hookup with me. Being a little too drunk for my own good, I hadn't realized this until it was already too late. Rodereich kissed me, and did other things, and being the sane person that I was, I pushed him away. Unfortunately, Elizabeta popped in at the wrong moment, screaming at the top of her lungs. She had embarrassed me to the point of tears without having the decency to hear me out. A lot more happened that night, but I'd rather not get into the gritty details of it. Basically, Elizabeta had labelled me as the school's new 'slut extraordinaire'. And of course, everyone followed suit with their beloved Queen Bee.

To everyone else, I was nothing more than a whore who had taken advantage of Rodereich's drunkenness, seducing and forcing him into doing something he would never do. I never fought against these rumours either. I was weak, vulnerable, and afraid. I let their cruel words get to me, and for an entire year, I had succumbed to this defeat. I was hiding in the shadows of someone else's mistake. I had never deserved any of this. Nothing good has happened to me since that night. I had been hurt and picked on so many times over that I was nothing more than a fragment of my 'scandalous' reputation.

I looked around the cafeteria, searching for my friends. I eventually found them sitting at the complete opposite end of the room, causing me to groan internally. I hated having to walk past so many people. I could feel their stares, and I could hear their whispers. They didn't bother to be subtle, either.

"Isn't she the slut who came on to Liza's boyfriend?"

"I heard she slept with half of the foot ball team too."

"She's back? I thought that bitch killed herself."

"If only."

"Didn't she sleep with Ivan too? Apparently, she let him completely dominate her."

HA! That one made me giggle a little. If anything, I would dominate Ivan! But ew, gross. That dude was beyond creepy. In fact, said Russian had just flashed me with an inviting wink, his massive hands beckoning for me to come over and sit next to him. I had zero interest in getting involved with Ivan and his manipulative, controlling nature. I value my life very much, unlike some people – cough, Liza, cough, bitch – and I didn't plan on giving up my freedom any time soon.

I kept my chin held high as I made my way across the cafeteria, feeling like Moses parting through a sea full of assholes. Seriously though, everyone edged away from me as if I had a disease. Whatever, all they were doing was making it easier for me to walk past them.

When I reached the table my friends were sitting at, I immediately regretted coming there in the first place. Sitting on one side was Isabel and Romano, both of whom appeared to be in the middle of an intense argument, most likely over what had happened this morning. Sitting across from them was my other best friend, Marianne Bonnefoy, and her always grouchy boyfriend, Arthur Kirkland.

Marianne was a flashy French woman with long, blondish-brown hair, startling but mischievous blue eyes, and a tall, slender body. Her boyfriend, on the other hand, was a real basket case. Arthur had massive eyebrows, messy blond hair, and a permanent scowl on his face. As you can see, Arthur is a very pleasant man. – Note the inevitable sarcasm in my awesome inner dialogue.

Honestly, I think the only reason Marianne ended up with him in the first place was because he had been the first person to show blatant disinterest in her. Arthur was a tech nerd who worked for the school's AV club. Marianne was the lead singer in the school's musical. After badgering him over the course of several months during rehearsals, she became frustrated when he showed no signs of giving in to her feminine charm.

But wait! This story get's so much better. Apparently, during the after party of last year's musical, Arthur got drunk – big surprise, I know – and declared, or rather screamed his love for her in front of everyone. The two got together afterwards, and have been inseparable ever since. Although, some occasional space between them would be good, as they argued more than they did speak civilly with each other.

Emerald eyes watering due to having his airways blocked, Arthur choked and spluttered. Marianne firmly patted his back, roughly giving him the Heimlich Maneuver. "Good God, woman!" he coughed, red-faced. "Just let me eat whatever I damn please!"

Marianne's perfectly plucked brows arched in a deadly expression. Usually, when she made that face, someone was going to get hurt. My hunch was correct; Arthur got hurt. With an eerie smile, Marianne grabbed Arthur's wrist, digging her long, claw-like nails into the first few inches of skin.

"Mon cher, won't you hold hands with me?" she purred, hints of anger sweeping into her melodic voice.

"Hold hands?! In what world is cutting off my circulation…" Marianne's nails dug deeper, drawing blood. "Oi!" Arthur roared from the pain.

While Arthur and Marianne continued to bicker back and forth about how she incessantly abused his pride of being an Englishman – whatever the hell that meant – I quietly slid it in to sit at the edge of the table, placing myself next to Isabel. Thankfully, the Spaniard appeared to have calmed down from earlier. Romano must have bribed her with a tomato or something.

"Oh! Hey Gil, how were your classes?" Isabel draped a casual arm over my shoulders. I looked down at my boots, avoiding her bubbly gaze. Gym was horrible as always and math was a pure disaster because Elizabeta was in it. The bitch thought she was discreet with her note-passing, but when one of her idiot minions accidently dropped a note, the teacher had forced them to read it out loud to the class.

Now, in most situations, a person would just lie and make up what was written on the note. But not Elizabeta. Oh no, she took the opportunity to attack my already lacking self-esteem. Let's just say that the slut accusations were far from the truth, if not downright hurtful and vicious in nature.

"Fine," I lied. "Gym was all right. We played soccer," I mumbled, cursing myself internally for sounding so lame and boring. I wasn't acting like myself. My friends must have noticed this too because even Marianne and Arthur stopped their bickering to hear what I had to say. Romano already knew not to bother me. The Italian gave me the benefit of the doubt by returning my grimace with a raised eyebrow, but nothing more. Whereas, the rest of my friends were a bit too concerned and nosy for my liking.

"Gillian, did someone say something to you?" Marianne faltered when she noticed that my lips were trembling. It was fine anyways. If it came to it, I wasn't afraid to cry in front of them. Both Isabel and Marianne had had their fair share of bullying in the past, so I'm sure they would understand. Heck, even now they were still bullied.

Marianne was hated for being the school's leading drama student. At least she had the strength to ignore the comments that were derived solely from jealousy. Isabel, on the other hand, was bullied for being too much of a free spirit. People thought the Spaniard was faking her happiness, but those crapwads didn't know a thing about her. Isabel's joy was nothing short of genuine.

But, the last thing we were all bullied for was truly despicable. Just thinking about it made my blood boil. Everyone knew that Isabel and Marianne slept with their boyfriends. Not so bad, right? Now add me to the picture, and you have a holy trio of 'sluts', otherwise known as the Bad Touch Trio. Disgusting, I know. Who were they to judge the love affairs of others, acting as if they never did the same things themselves? And since when did sleeping with the same person make a girl a slut, anyhow? What kind of bullshit was that?

What disgusted me even more was that while Isabel and Marianne were condemned for their 'promiscuous behaviour', Arthur and Romano were praised for their abilities to 'score in bed'. Slut shaming at its finest, everyone. A world where a woman's sexuality is controlled and exploited, while a man's masculinity rests with whether or not they have a doll to play with. Because that's all a woman was: an accessory that was to be adorned, plucked, and criticized into perfection.

I hadn't realized I was biting my lip until Isabel gently nudged shoulders with me. "Gil, Marianne asked you a question," she tutted, giving me a sheepish look when she noticed how startled I was. I wracked my brain for a moment. When I remembered what Marianne had asked me, I immediately went on the defensive.

"Someone's always going to say something, Marianne," I chided. "There's nothing I can do about it. Please, don't waste your time worrying about me." To hide my grimace, I grinned. Damn. If I kept it up with these fake smiles, I was going to stretch a cheek muscle.

I took a massive bite out of my apple, hoping to end the conversation right then and there.

Marianne looked skeptical at first, but her attention was diverted when Arthur decided to contribute to the conversation. "I'm guessing you didn't get much sleep either," he remarked with a smirk. "You look like shit."

Oh Arthur, always there to kick me when I'm down. He liked to nit-pick at me whenever he could. He saw this as his revenge for my jabs at his ape-like eyebrows. Marianne's eyes screamed bloody murder. Just when she was about to reprimand Arthur for being rude, Romano's profuse swearing interrupted her.

"Felicia! Vieni qui!" Romano bellowed at his sister in Italian, his face fuming with anger.

Felicia blushed, embarrassed that her brother was shouting at her from the opposite end of the cafeteria. The way Romano angrily waved his hands back and forth made him look like a deranged maniac. Nervously tucking a copper curl behind her ear, Felicia slowly and reluctantly walked over to our table. She averted her gaze from Romano's furious amber eyes, stopping to a standstill, her head bowed. I smirked at Felicia in hello, and she reciprocated with a sheepish smile. The girl knew she was in trouble.

"What did I say about wearing your skirt that short?!"

Felicia pouted, stubbornly stomping her tiny feet against the ground. "But, fratello! All the girls wear their skirts like this," she whined. I giggled. Even I hiked up my skirt. There was a difference between being modest and a full-blown Mormon. It was pretty obvious by now that Romano preferred for his sister to dress in the latter style.

"Where's your precious potato, huh? Did that pervert make you do this?!" Romano interrogated, not even bothering to lower his voice. The entire cafeteria was watching him lose it on his poor sister. I rolled my eyes. Potato was Romano's nickname for Lud. Although, I don't know what my brother did to ever deserve that nickname. Lud was nothing but nice to Romano, but for some reason, the Italian had never been fond of my brother. Well, considering that Felicia is his only family left, I suppose I can let his overprotectiveness slide, just this once.

Lud was much bigger than Romano anyhow, so I'm sure that he would be able to handle himself in a fight. Although, knowing Lud, he wouldn't ever resort to violence. Lud was a brute. He only used his strength to do good deeds, such as helping Ms. Wang carry her groceries, or helping the AV crew lug their heavy equipment around. Speaking of Lud, I needed to find him before lunch ended. I hadn't had the chance to see him this morning; I wanted to let him know that I wouldn't be coming home after school.

"Roma~! Leave the poor girl be," Isabel laughed. Snapping out of my daze, - something I let myself fall into way too often lately - I looked over to Romano, who had gotten up from his seat. Felicia whined and pouted as Romano pulled down her skirt to a 'reasonable' height, fawning, clucking, and swearing over her like a proper mother hen. Poor Felicia just about died from cringing.

"Isa," Romano growled. "Can you hand me a napkin?"

Isabel scoffed. "I want no part in this. Go ask someone else." She didn't support Romano babying his younger sister.

Felicia's brown eyes widened when she realized what her brother intended to do. "Fratello! You said I could wear it," she begged.

"Here you go mate," Arthur mused, handing Romano a napkin. Marianne slapped the Briton's hand for this, and the couple quickly went back to their residual bickering. I didn't bother to keep up with them this time. While Romano wiped off the excess lip gloss from a grumbling Felicia's lips, I stood up from the table, tossing my apple core into a nearby garbage can.

"I said you could wear 'some', not the entire tube," Romano lectured. "Now lift up your chin. And don't you dare give me that look. You brought this onto yourself."

"Hey Felicia?" I asked. "You wouldn't know where Lud is, would you?"

I pretended to ignore Romano's eye roll. "He's in the math room studying with Kiku," Felicia mumbled semi-coherently as Romano continued to dab at her lower lip with a napkin. I nodded and said my thanks. Ducking my head, I prepared myself for another round of vicious comments. Of course, as I made my way back across the cafeteria, Elizabeta just had to have the last word, and by last word, she couldn't refrain herself from acting like a total bitch.

"Going somewhere?" Elizabeta mocked. "Why don't you just do us all a favour and disappear?"

"Fine," I shrugged, refusing to give Elizabeta my full attention. She wasn't worth it anyways. "I will." And with that, I walked out of the cafeteria. I closed my eyes and counted to three. I knew that a pair of lavender eyes were watching my every move.

One….Two….Thr-

My phone buzzed.

And there it was.

I wonder what lovely text messages were waiting for me this time.

…

7:30 PM

I tried to swallow my panic. I fumbled to open the door of my apartment, but my hands were trembling far too much for me to have any coordination. My phone continued to buzz in my backpack, and I felt my entire chest constrict. It had never been this bad.

Somehow, I managed to push open the door. I nearly collapsed on my knees right then and there. "Gillian? Is that you?" Oh crap. I looked to my right. Felicia and Lud were sitting at the kitchen table, in the middle of one of their tutoring sessions. Lud's blue eyes widened with concern when he noticed the panicked state I was in. Felicia also gave me a worried look, but I wasn't about to cave any time soon. They didn't have to worry about me. I'd be fine.

I inhaled through my nostrils, smiled, and willed myself to put on my best performance. "Yes, Lud, it's me," I scoffed, laughing to hide the cracks in my voice. Thankfully from where I was standing, the room was dark. The chandelier hanging over the kitchen table was the only thing that lit up the room. "Oh, and Felicia? Romano wants you home now."

Felicia nodded. The girl knew something was wrong, but with a kind smile, Felicia gathered her things and said her goodbyes. I silently thanked Felicia for not prying. She was a good kid. While Lud kissed her goodnight, I slipped into my room, shutting the door behind me and locking it.

Almost immediately, Lud knocked on my door. "Gillian? Did something happen? What were doing out so late?" he asked. I winced when I heard how worried he sounded. There I went again. No matter what I did, I always hurt the people around me. This is why I preferred being alone. I couldn't hurt anyone this way, and I could never hope for something better in life. If my standards were low, then I wouldn't have to feel the crushing weight of rejection and betrayal again.

I don't know when I collapsed onto my bed, but I did. I clutched a pillow to my chest, ignoring the questions that Lud continued to ask me, praying he would eventually give up and leave me alone. I knew that what I had hoped for was futile. Lud wouldn't go down without a fight.

"Can you at least tell me where you went?"

Honestly, I couldn't even answer that question if I tried. After school, it had become a habit for me to walk around town, clearing my thoughts and breathing in lighter, less-judgemental air.

Going back to school was toxic for my health, so surrounding myself with people who didn't know a thing about me was a luxury I was desperate to find. Normally, I didn't stay out this late. Something about today had me so riled up that I needed the extra time to find my own place again. Who am I kidding? The only place I belonged was back in my room. I didn't have a voice, so the only thing I could do was maintain my silence and accept the scorn thrown my way.

Lud knocked on my bedroom door again. "I microwaved some leftovers for you. It's waiting outside your door. Oh, and Gil? If you need to talk, I'll be in my room." And with that, Lud left me be. I grimaced. What a terrible older sister I was. I was pushing away the one person in my life who loved me unconditionally.

I almost cried out for Lud to come back, but my phone persistently rang with new texts, preventing me from confiding in him. I sank even lower than before. I knew that what I was about to do was stupid, but there was no reasoning with me at this point. I was too stubborn for my own good.

I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my text messages. I looked at all of them, tears streaming down my face in endless rolls of misery. I could just barely contain my sobs. Lud couldn't hear this. I couldn't let him worry about me any more. With trembling fingers, I swiped at the tears that had fallen onto my phone. I clenched my teeth as I continued to delete one agonizing message at a time.

7:36 AM: Good morning beautiful, did you sleep well?

7:40 AM: You know, it's very rude not to answer.

7:50 AM: What game are you playing, Gillian?

8:00 AM: Whatever. See if I care.

10:45 AM: How come you ignored me in the cafeteria?

10:50 AM: You know; I don't have to do this. I don't have to talk to you.

10:52 AM: But I choose to. And damn it all if I'm just going to let you ignore me like that.

3:00 PM: Where are you?

3:05 PM: I see you.

3:07 PM: Why are you sitting by the bleachers?

3:10: PM: Where'd you go?

3:12 PM: Are you running away from me?

7:00 PM: I tried being nice, and this is how you repay me?

7:05 PM: Don't delude yourself. You're nothing more than a slut who begs for attention.

7:07 PM: Know your place.

7:10 PM: No one likes you.

7:15 PM: If you died, hardly anyone would show up to your funeral.

7:20 PM: But I would. I'd spit on your grave only to have you ignore me one last time.

7:25 PM: Filthy skank. Why do I even bother with you?

7:30 PM: I hope you rot in hell.

7:35 PM: You better watch yourself, Gillian. You wouldn't want to make an enemy out of me.

7:36 PM: I'd hate to see you get hurt.

My phone buzzed again and again and again.

Vision blurring with tears, I took out the battery from my phone, throwing it away into a far corner of the room. I didn't want to see what that bastard had to say next. And just like that, every single wall and emotional barrier that I had built to protect myself fell to shambles. When I was little, I used to call myself awesome. Now, I wasn't so sure. I was weak. I talked big but all it took was one comment to send me spiralling into a never-ending vortex of self-pity, regret, and shame. I was numb. I was floating. I was desperate to latch onto something whole and sane again.

My voice choked, and I brought my knees to my chest. He had taken away my reputation, my best friend, my dignity, and my life. What more could he possibly ask for? I tried so hard to forget, but Rodereich would never let that happen. He wanted to own me, and in an sickening sense, he did. I had succumbed to the realization that I was never going to rid myself from him. I had no control over my life, and yet the only thing I could bring myself to say was: "I'm fine."

I don't know how much longer I could keep up with this.

"I'm fine…"

"I'm awesome..."

"I'll forget about it…"

How many more lies could I tell myself before I finally cracked?