I don't own FMA.

Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous

Chapter One
welcome to my life

Central, California. Population: 19,453. Home of the terminally rich, terminally ill, and terminally insane. And, right now, Edward Elric's hell on Earth.

The late May sun beat down on him with all the intensity of a sledgehammer, reflected and multiplied by the hot black pavement he was sprawled on. "What the fuck, Winry?" he asked, propping himself up with one hand as he stared at the blonde girl looming above him.

"What?!" she shrieked "You ask me what? You think you can break up with your girlfriend of three damn years and she won't give a shit?" Her blue eyes blowed fiercely as she glared down at him, and the waves of anger emanating from her slender form only added to the nearly unbearable heat. "You are such an intolerable prick! What will everyone say? Huh? I thought you were my friend!"

"Winry, look." Ed said uncomfortably as he got to his feet. "We weren't actually dating in the first place, remember? It was just so-"

"I don't care!" she shrieked. "You can't just dump me!"

Ed held up his hands in an effort to placate her. "I don't see what the big deal is. We were just-"

Winry was nearly spitting with rage as she screamed at him. "It was a big deal! You're such a jerk! You-" She turned as if to march off, but Ed grabbed her wrist.

"Winry, did you forget? We made a deal. I would pretend to go out with you until I felt like being 'available' again, and then we would break off our relationship. Peacefully." He was nearly as angry as her now, his golden eyes smoldering furiously.

"Yeah, but what will everyone-"

"I don't give a fucking shit what everyone says." He glared. "I'm single now, you're single now, you can have a chance to pick up that chick you're always obsessing about, I can see other people-"

"That's right, it's all about you, isn't it?" Winry was crying now, her eyes bloodshot and tears streaming down her face. "And you just want that black haired slut-"

"You just want to pick up that brown haired bitch-" His words were abruptly cut off as Winry slapped him sharply in the face. Ed's head snapped back as a burning pain consumed the left side of his face. Clapping a hand to his cheek, he looked up to see Winry sprinting away. The teenager glared at her retreating form. If they hadn't been before, he was sure that everyone in the entire parking lot was staring at him now.

Ed sighed, slumping back against the sleek black convertible. He hadn't meant for the break-up to go that badly; after all, their 'relationship' was just supposed to be a charade. /Yeah, a charade that lasted for three years,/ he thought bitterly, nursing his flaming face. "Fuck." he cursed as he turned his eyes up to the bright, almost painfully blue sky. He squinted as the sun seared his eyes, causing dark spots to dance in his vision. The whole situation was ridiculous, really. He hadn't wanted their friendship to change - all he had wanted to do was stop the lovey-dovey playacting. It was time for Winry to move on and actually do something about her ridiculous crush, and he had finally meant someone whom he deemed worthy of spending his time with.

/Speak of the devil.../ Ed thought wryly as a slim, dark-haired girl wove her way through the left-over cars.

Lyra greeted the teenager with a friendly smile, noting with amusement that Ed seemed to be making himself at home by her convertible. "How did it go?" she asked curiously, her straight, charcoal colored hair swinging in front of her face as she bent to unlock her car.

Ed grinned tiredly. "Not well." he replied, removing his hand from his face to reveal a large red handprint spanning his cheek.

The girl winced in sympathy. "Ouch. But why did she slap you? Isn't that a bit of overkill?" She climbed gracefully into the driver's seat, motioning for Ed to get in on the other side.

"I guess I could have broken it to her more gently." he replied, sighing and staring out the window as Lyra rolled the top down and the breeze fluttered his bangs about his face. "I was kind of a jerk."

Lyra shrugged. "She probably took it too hard." she replied without sympathy. "After all, it's not every day that you break up with a boyfriend of three years." Her charcoal hair flew back, exposing her dark slanted eyes and high, narrow cheekbones. Noticing Edward watching her, she flashed him a smile that looked almost like a smirk.

/But she knew!/ he thought, turning his gaze away from Lyra's perfect, porcelain skin and and biting his lip. The way she was looking at him made Ed a little uncomfortable, but he put it down as leftover guilt from the botched breakup. Finally, he sighed. "Yeah, probably." he agreed, squashing the pang of conscience that surfaced as he chatted amiably about his - former - best friend.

When they pulld up at Ed's three-story apartment complex, he picked up his backpack and prepared to leave. "Thanks for bringing me home, Lyra. I really appreciate it." He smiled at the girl before opening the door carefully, meaning to hurry. It was laready past four o'clock, and he was sure Al was wondering where he could have gotten to.

"Look, Ed..." The teenager turned back to see Lyra, for the first time in the years he had known her, averting her eyes and looking self-conscious.

"Yeah?" he asked, curious as to what could have brought on this abrupt change in attitude.

"You know, if you ever need any help or anything..." she began, leaning closer to him. "Just ask me... okay?" Her lips were parted and her eyes were closed expectantly.

Ed stared at her for a moment before realizing what she was asking for. /She wants me to... kiss her./ he thought, panicking. /I've never kissed a girl before, I-/ But his train of thought was abruptly cut off by Lyra's lips meeting his own - apparently she had grown impatient. Hesitantly, Ed brought up his arms and drew her closer, opening his mouth obediently. Lyra's tongue reminded him of an oyster, and he hated seafood. He resisted the urge to gag as the girl caressed his hair and drew him closer - he felt like he was being sucked in by a giant squid. /Is this what it's supposed to feel like when you get your first kiss?/ he wondered. In all the teen novels he had read, first kisses were supposed to be memorable, with pounding hearts and electrifying touches. And this was far from pleasant.

After what seemed like an eternity, Lyra finally broke away, cheeks slightly flushed. She smiled - smirked - at him and Ed, not knowing what else to do, gave her a hesitant grin. "Well..." the dark-haired girl said awkwardly. "Call me tonight, okay, Ed?"

The teenager nodded and hopped out of the convertible, grabbing his backpack and speeding up the outside stairs. Before twisting open their door, he waved to Lyra, who pulled away gracefully from the curb.

/That didn't feel... right./ Ed thought as he stepped into the blissfully cool hall and dropped his heavy backpack on the couch. /Why? Is there something wrong with me?/

---

Envy stepped back from his latest masterpiece, admiring the bright white "A" he had painted on the brick wall. Biting his lip in concentration, he drew a circle around the letter, then grinned and threw the can of spraypaint across the grimy hall. He gave his anarchist graffiti the thumbs up sign, then began sauntering down the hall.

"Excuse me? Sir!" someone called from across the way. Envy turned to see a stout old lady waddling towards him, her frown only making her face look more wrinkled.

"Yeah?" he asked rudely, crossing his arms and looking down at her.

"Graffitti is not allowed in our halls, especially that kind of graffiti." she said, looking at Envy's 'masterpiece' distastefully. "You could get expelled for that, you know. It clearly states in our handbook, page thirteen, paragraph five, that 'Drawing, painting, spraypainting, graffiti-ing, or otherwise defacing any school property, including desks, walls, lockers, bathrooms, etc. is strictly prohibited. According to the nature and content matter of the drawings and/or writing, a student can be punished with anything from three-day suspension to expulsion." As she finished her recitation, she gave the skinny teenager a smug look.

Envy gave her a look. "You memorize the handbook?" he asked, giving a slight laugh.

"That, sir, is not the issue."

"Oh, but it is..." Envy replied, smirking. "That's what I want to know, anyway."

"It's not about what you want to know." the old woman told him, her frown, if possible, growing even more pronounced. "It's about the fact that you have just been caught defacing school property."

Envy's expression darkened, until he was glaring menacingly at her. Suddenly, he spun around to kick a stack of books that had been haphazardly piled against the wall. He watched in satisfaction as they skidded down the hall before turning back to the teacher. "Sorry, it was either those books, or your face. Now, where were we?"

The lady looked taken aback for a moment, but continued nonetheless. "Along with your 'art' over there-" she pointed to his anarchist symbol glowing proudly under flickering flourescent lights, "your attire is completely out of order." She gave his skintight black crop-top and dark skort a disdainful look. "It is unbecoming of a young man, such as yourself, to wear such shameful clothing. You are coming with me to the office right now, and I will be calling your parents."

As the teacher rambled on, Envy's expression grew darker and darker as he lost patience. Finally, throwing caution to the winds, he grabbed her by the collar and slammed the woman into the lockers, grinning wildly as he saw her feeble blue eyes widen. "Don't you know who I am?" Envy spat, bringing his face close to hers and wrinkling his nose at the old lady perfume. "Teachers don't even try to tell me what to do." He shoved the teacher down, seeming to lose interest in her. As he walked away, he turned back to look at her gasping form. "Just ask them about Envy."

Grinning in triumph, he sauntered down the hall and out of the school. /Nobody can mess with me.../

---

"Brother?" Alphonse called from the kitchen as Edward shuffled through the door.

"Hey, Al." Ed said as he pulled out a chair and plopped down at the table with his brother. "What's up?"

Al gave him a look. "You were supposed to be home an hour ago! Where were you?" he all but yelled, his hazel eyes wide with anxiety. "I was worried, brother." When his car was in the shop (which was often), Winry drove him home around three-thirty, as bus service wasn't provided for the unusually, unsurprisingly poor public school. But today, it was already past four-thirty, and he had received no call from Ed warning him of any after school plans.

The teenager sighed. "Sorry, Al." he apologized. "I..." Ed gulped, fearing his brother's reaction. "I broke up with Winry." With anyone else, he would have said nothing, but the two were extremely close, and witholding something this momentous from his brother just seemed wrong.

Al's eyes widened again, but this time with surprise. "But why? You guys have been together for three years!"

Ed shrugged, casting about wildly for a believable reason. "It just... wasn't working out, ya know? I thought it would be a good idea if we stopped bing so exclusive and start seeing other people and... stuff." he finished lamely. It sounded like the kind of psycho-babble one saw all too commonly on daytime television, but it was better than nothing.

"How'd she take it?" Al asked, swallowing Ed's excuses without question.

Wincing, Ed turned to show Al his cheek. Winry's slap had giving him a red mark - soon to be a bruise, probably - that stood out violently against his lightly tanned skin. "Badly." was his simple explanation.

Al gave him a sympathetic look. "How'd you get home then?" he asked, standing up. "I'll get you some ice."

This was where conversation would get rather awkward. "Well, this girl took me home."

His brother's head poked out from behind the freezer door, where he had been rummaging in the icebox. "A girl?" Al asked interestedly, wiggling his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

Ed laughed at his antics. "Yeah, her name's Lyra. She's pretty cool, I mean, she has a convertible..."

"Ooh, does big brother have a crush on someone?" Al asked happily, dancing around the kitchen with a ziplock bag of ice dangling from his hand.

"Shut up, Al." Ed grumbled noncommittally, catching the ice when it was thrown to him and pressing it to his face. /Good thing I didn't tell him everything that happened./ he thought, rolling his eyes.

Suddenly, Al's face became serious. "But what about Winry?" he asked, giving Ed a disapproving look.

"Huh?" the teenager replied intelligently, taken aback by the abrupt change in conversation.

"Win-ry." the sandy-haired boy enunciated. "What's she going to think about this 'Lyra' person?"

"Does it really matter?" Ed asked, wanting to get off the subject of his ex-girlfriend. He still wasn't sure what he felt about their 'breakup'.

Al frowned. "Don't you think it might hurt her feelings if you already found someone else?"

Ed grunted and stared out the window. After watching him for a moment, Al let the conversation die and turned the talk to the upcoming basketball match between the Central Cougars (Ed's school's team), and the St. Charles Conquistadors (his own). And, at least for the moment, the subject of Winry was dropped.

---

"Envy, there are only five days left until the end of school." Dante told him, displeasure evident in both her voice and stance - arms crossed over a well-endowed chest, lips pursed, violet eyes narrowed.

"I'm surprised you even made it that far." Greed commented snidely from behind her. He was seated at the polished walnut table, apparently absorbed in the daily paper, but Envy knew he was avidly listening to the argument.

The teenager glowered at him from his perch atop the mahogany desk that also occupied the room. "Fuck off, dad." he replied spitefully, making a dig at his obvious unrelation to the dark haired man at the table.

"Pay attention, boy." Dante snapped, stepping closer and glaring up at him. Envy was amused to see that he was at least a head taller than his so-called mother (who happened to be sadly lacking in maternal instincts of any sort). "I got a call from the administration today." she contintued.

"Fascinating." Envy replied sarcastically, making a show of examining his nails. Dante, being an actress both onstage and in her own home, absolutely hated it when she was ignored.

"It was about you."

"No shit?" Envy asked, widening his eyes in mock surprise. He heard Greed cough and rustle the newspaper from behind his mother, probably to hide a snort of laughter.

Dante sighed. "Don't make me lose my patience." she said conversationally.

In return, she received a 'Who, me?' look from Envy, who remained silent. He wasn't willing to test his mother's tolerance that far.

"You know violence against school faculty is completely crossing the line. The teachers' union is threatening a lawsuit against us for your violence against Ms. Alessi."

/So that was her name.../ Envy thought, shrugging. "It's not like you can't pay for it." he replied in a surly tone.

"Money is not the issue." Dante replied. Personally, Envy couldn't see what was so appealing to others about his mother. Without makeup, fine wrinkles were visible at the corners of her mouth and on her forehead, and her eyes lacked any hint of the 'sultry sexiness' movie critics praised. "Are you listening to me, Envy?"

"Hunh?"

"I said, money is not the issue. Our credibility is at stake. I am not going to ruin my career by covering for your stupidity."

"No doubt it would help..." Envy muttered, thinking of the inevitable boost in publicity a lawsuit would cause.

"What was that?" Dante asked sharply.

"Nothing. Whatever." the brackish haired teenager muttered, turning on his heel and clomping out of the conference room.

"I'm not done with you yet!" his mother shrieked from behind him. But all she received was a rude gesture from behind his back as he stalked through the soaring entrance hall and up the lushly carpeted stairs.

Envy stomped into his room, flopping down on the cool leather couch and kicking off his combat boots. His feet hurt like hell - the only reason he wore those black monstrosities was to annoy his parents and teachers. That, and their ability to intimidate. Sighing, the teenager rested his head on his arms and let his eyes adjust to the murky room, with its black walls and drawn curtains letting in no light whatsoever. On one side of the room, a shadowed doorway led to a bedroom and bathroom, each as dark, if not darker, than his 'living room'. On the other side, an jumble of electronic gadgets were set up, including a shiny silver gaming console, a plasma TV (thirty-six inches, built into the wall), a flatscreen computer, a gigantic, state-of-the-art stereo system, and a disorganized jumble of CD's, DVD's, and video games. He stared at the mess for a moment before wearily getting to his feet. He had promised to get online after school and talk to Kimbley.

With a flick of the mouse, his computer sprang to life, and Envy sprawled onto the leather-backed executive's chair, signing on.

CrimsonExplosion: Finally.

ENVYme: Parents were lecturing me.

CrimsonExplosion: What now?

ENVYme: Roughed up a teacher, 'defaced' the hall...
ENVYme: I stole some spraypaint from a freshman and I put an anarchist sign by the bathroom door.

CrimsonExplosion: Fuck them.

ENVYme: No kidding.
ENVYme: We should do something to the admin. tomorrow. Sort of as a 'going away present'.
ENVYme: Since it's the last week of school and all.

CrimsonExplosion: Bombs...

ENVYme: We could plant them under the desks in the office!
ENVYme: LOL!

CrimsonExplosion: Yes.
CrimsonExplosion: That would show them the true power of anarchy.

Envy rolled his eyes. Kimbley could be ridiculous; what with his devotion to true and total anarchy and his extreme pyromania. That guy belonged in an asylum, and if the teachers at Central High had their way, he would end up in one very soon.

Suddenly, another window popped up.

Ashlie040: ZOMG!!!!!!!!!
Ashlie040: ENVYYYYYYY!!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE UR ON!!!
Ashlie040: lol

ENVYme: Hey, babe. Sup?

Envy smirked. He always loved it when his 'conquests' were desperate to talk with him. Of course, most of his stalker-fangirls were preppy Barbie-doll chicks, but one couldn't be picky. (It was either the airhead blondes or the freaky ghetto babes... and Martel.)

Ashlie040: Nothing much.
Ashlie040: ...
Ashlie040: Wanna hang out?

ENVYme: Your place, or mine?
ENVYme: My parents are going out, so...

Ashlie040: UR HOUSE?!?! OMG!!!
Ashlie040: It's SO BIG!!!! I'm coming over RIGHT NOW!

ENVYme: You know where it is. See you in five.

He exited the message, smirking. It didn't occur to him that half the reason he was so successful with the 'ladies' was his money, or, if it did, he didn't let it bother him much. After all, an easy fuck was an easy fuck, right? Envy was distracted from his musings by Kimbley's window popping up once more.

CrimsonExplosion: You there?

ENVYme: Sorry, got sidetracked.

CrimsonExplosion: Think five will be enough?

ENVYme: Five what?

CrimsonExplosion: Bombs, dumbfuck.

ENVYme: Make ten.
ENVYme: We can use some in the cafeteria or wherever.

CrimsonExplosion: Right.

ENVYme: Hey, I gotta go now...

CrimsonExplosion: Not another girl...

ENVYme: Jealous, Kimbley?

CrimsonExplosion: You wish, slut.

Hearing the doorbell ring, Envy quickly signed out and flopped back down on his couch. He waited for the butler to bring in the girl... What was her name again? He shrugged. It didn't really matter. After today, he would probably never see her again.

"Welcome to My Life", by Simple Plan.
Reviews are appreciated, constructive criticism is adored.