Shame.

Her hand glides around the metal pole slowly, gracefully…

Have you no pride?

Providentially, the metal railings around the stage protect her—not from falling, but from them.

What happened to you?

This isn't you.

No seductive look planted on… Just an impassive face. No tears, no fear… Nothing.

Possibly just like him.

Though she looks out beyond the crowd, searching…searching…

…and finding nothing.

Helplessness.

. . .

My name is Ayuzawa Misaki, age nineteen.

In high school, I was called the "demon president" of Seika High. I was also known as the number one boy-hater, sworn to protect girls from those lecherous things. I always wondered why males were even created; I assumed they were the ones who contaminated the world as we know now. I didn't care that the boys thought I treated the girls better. So what if I liked to play favoritism with the girls? I don't see the teachers complaining, anyways.

I didn't care.

But I started to feel bad about it—for a millisecond. I grew tired of their inane complaints and eventually gave in. Even though I can be quite stubborn, everybody has their breaking point, right? Nobody can stay firm on what they believe in forever.

Usui Takumi. We all call him "Usui" so much that people assume that's his first name—possibly is, possibly not. To the guys, he's the number one guy in school, in planet Earth, and so on and so forth. They say that he's the only one keeping Seika High alive and keeping the boys' reputation going strong.

And to the girls…well, they think he's the most handsome, perfect guy ever. He has perfect grades, good at sports, has this mysterious aura surrounding him, and is just…super, super gorgeous.

Their words, not mine.

To me, I think he's a perverted outer-space alien. He's the one who found about my secret: I, the tough, boy-hating, demon president, working at the Maid Café, where girls are all happy and smiley to the customers—girl and boy. There are mostly male customers—that's if we're not having our rare cross-dressing days—because the servers are, obviously, all girls. It's not my kind of thing, but the hours and pay are decent.

Anyways, ever since Usui found out about my secret, we've been in many outrageous experiences together. He started to work part-time at the café I work at, and that's where I found out how great of a cook he is. That's when I suddenly found out he was incredible at everything.

That's when I started becoming suspicious of him.

It's true that for a guy who likes to help out, strangely, he doesn't say much about himself. You yourself are blabbering on and on about some topic while he sits there, just listening. He either makes some idiotic comment or just stays quiet. You know, when he's not being perverted, he's actually a good listener—sometimes.

So yeah, we've been through so much stuff. He helped me with many, many things. He's just…someone you just can't describe. He's too perfect; he's an alien.

Eventually, I started developing feelings for him.

At first, I was denying it. I thought it was something extremely stupid. I mean, why the hell would I like that perverted stalker? Seriously, everywhere I turn he's there! Then he told me that he liked me and freaking jumped off the roof just to save a measly picture of me and him in the Maid Café! It was a good thing he did that, though… But is there someone that you could of think of who would do such an irrational thing?! No!

Yes. One day, I said that I liked him—well, I implied it, actually. But nonetheless, I confessed. Then we kissed.

You see, Usui and I…have a strange relationship. Now I don't want to ramble about all the times we've been through since it's such a long, long story. Don't ask for the whole story unless you suffer from insomnia.

__

I had seen her with my own two eyes collapse right then and there slowly She was just making some curry, and I was just trying to help her with the cutting and stuff. It had just…happened.

"MOM!" I had screamed.

__

There comes a time when you just don't want to talk to anyone at all. For instance, when something horrible happens, and you just don't want to talk to anyone whatsoever. You feel empty underneath, and if someone just sets something off inside of you, you vent out your anger, sadness, and helplessness to that particular person.

Of course that person would have to be really persistent to talk to you like I someone I know…

Yes, it's not their fault. You just can't help it, though. It's something gigantic ready to explode any time soon. You just can't stop it, and you don't mean it, either. You say things you don't really mean, and then you feel guilty afterwards—which sucks, because it adds to the anger, sadness, and helplessness you're feeling as of now.

Bad luck just happens to the unluckiest people in the world—especially terrible ones, like me.

. . .

"Do you want to go grab a bite to eat with me, Misaki?" Sakura asks me, hoisting her bag on her shoulder. "My treat, of course!" She smiles brightly.

I smile back apologetically. "I'm sorry, Sakura," I reply. "I have to go to work. Perhaps next time would be best, but right now…no."

Sakura frowns slightly. "You're always so busy, Misaki! You need to have a break, you know. This isn't healthy for you." She sounds so concerned.

"I know—but I have to work, anyways. It's all right. Make sure you're with someone when you go eat, Sakura. Just wait for Shizuko before you go; this place is crawling with creeps." I grimace.

She laughs. "You're still the same as ever, Misaki! I'm glad…" She smiles softly.

I start to feel that same feeling again when I heard her say that and saw her warm smile. "Okay, bye," I say hastily, and leave immediately. I hear her say goodbye, but I just go on ahead to my job.

My name is Ayuzawa Misaki, age nineteen. And I no longer work at Maid Café.

I head down to the subway as quickly as possible, knowing I am late again. I was supposed to come down here so I can be on time, but then Sakura wanted me to tutor her on math for a while. I lost track of time, and here I am, late. The manager's… I do not know what she's going to do.

I restrain myself from pummeling the boys who are fooling around in the train and bumping into me. They are absolutely juvenile, but I can't do anything right now. Not because it would seem too…weird, but because I can't move my arms for I might hit someone—but if I do move my arm, I'll hope that it'll hit the immature boys in that special place of theirs.

Finally, the train arrives to my destination, and quickly, I'm the first one out. I run out to the bustling city and down the street. I effortlessly dodge people especially the crowds. Luckily, the place that I am heading down to isn't that far of a run—for me, that is.

As I arrive, I look through the window, and I see Naeko on stage already. I go around the back to go to the secret back door entrance; it's actually an exit from the inside, but I use that door so I wouldn't have any males staring at me as I go in.

I lock the door just for safety precautions—for the girls, of course—and head through the dressing rooms. The girls pay me no mind, but I see some that stared at me as I pass by. I am about to sneak in the secluded dressing room when the manager comes in, glaring at me.

"Ayuzawa, where the hell were you?" she exclaims. "It was your turn to go up first, but Yamamoto insisted on going first. You're lucky she covered for you. Since you came late, you're the one who has to stay back and lock up the building."

I didn't complain, because when I was still new here, I complained about having to wear such skimpy clothing, and my pay went lower. Don't get me wrong—Sato-san is a nice person, but when it comes down to business, she's strict as hell. I admire her for that; she doesn't let anyone win her over. Favoritism is not her thing.

That's like a slap in the face to me.

I quickly change into the clothes Sato-san gave me and go out, carrying a tray of drinks this girl dumped on me. There are so many girls that work here; I don't even know some of their names.

I look down on the notepad the girl gave me and immediately memorize the orders and where to put it. Some of them are so transfixed on the girl on stage; they don't notice me. Unfortunately, some of them give me their numbers—which I throw away instantaneously—and make wolf whistles at me. I resist the urge to strike them down. I do not want to get fired.

Sato-san tells me that it's my turn to go up. I mutter a string of profanities under my breath, and go up the stage reluctantly. I put my hand on the pole sliding it down slowly and circle around it. I hear cat calls and loud wolf whistles, making a vein throb on my forehead. I've been working here for about a few months and I'm still not used to all of this.

I dip down and spin gracefully and skillfully around the pole. I stare emotionlessly at the crowd of men. Some are drooling and staring lustfully at me. It's completely horrendous. I saw something that caught my eye.

There is a man on the way back of the room, leaning on the entrance door casually. I couldn't see him very well for it is dark, and the shadows make it hard to tell how he looks like. It is hard to illustrate.

I dip down again seductively and swing my hips side to side as I came up. I put my left leg around the pole and spin again smoothly. There are more cat calls and whistles. Men start to run up and throw money over the railings. One guy is trying to climb over, but he fails. I try to suppress my giggles.

I peek over at the man now. He's still standing there. Is he a stalker or something? Is he a rapist or one of those obsessive freaks that I haven't paid attention to in the past? Who is he?

Why does his presence captivate me?

Suddenly, I see the man smirk at me. For some unknown reason, that smirk makes me blush hard. I turn away from the loud audience until that annoying blush goes away. What the hell is this guy trying to do?! Why did he smirk at me?! What's going on?!

I see Sato-san mouthing that my part is done, and I jump off the pole happily, collecting the money, and leaving without a glance. I hear the crowd groan and complain, but when another girl came up, they immediately become happy as if nothing ever happened.

I go to the tables and ask some of the men if they still want anything. They merely ignore me and continue watching the girl perform. I accidentally step on one of the guy's foot with the sharp heel of my shoe and put on a faux sweet face, apologizing. As I turn away, I feel myself smile evilly.

Unconsciously, I look for the man. He isn't there, but the door he was leaning in front of is wide open. It is as if he did so just to make me follow him. And I want to.

The rest of the night went by so fast. I was glad it did. I will be able to get to my sister really, really soon. I desperately need to get away from all the smoke and the smell of beer. It is making my head swirl and I feel nauseated.

Naeko comes up to me, smiling softly. "I'll wait for you, and we can walk together to the train station, Misaki-san," she says. "I don't want you to be alone; you said so yourself: there are 'creeps crawling around.'"

I give her an assuring smile. "I'm fine, Naeko, really. If you want me to walk you home, I will. Don't you have someone there to pick you up?" I ask, changing into my own clothing.

She nods and gives me a look of concern. "Are you sure now, Misaki? It's awfully late, and I don't want you to be alone." She bites her lip.

"I'm sure."

Naeko pecks me on the cheek—something she does to me and only me for some reason—and leaves, waving delicately.

I sigh, smiling a bit, and grab the keys Sato-san entrusted me with. I grab my stuff and head towards the entrance, making sure everything is okay and in place. I hoist my bag on my shoulder and begin locking the door securely. I place the keys safely in my pocket and jog towards the train station quickly.

I see a man who's obviously drunk stumble out of the alleyway. He looks to the side and sees me. I see him smile disgustingly and walk clumsily towards me.

"Hey, beautiful," he slurs. "Do—do y-y-you wanna take—take a r-r-ri-i-i-de with me?" He hiccups, and I can virtually smell his beer-filled breath.

I don't know why, but I punch him hard in the gut and swiftly kick him in the same place. I guess I was so pissed off in the bar that I just have to put my anger on something—or in this case someone. I unceremoniously step over him and continue jogging to the train station nearby.

I hope Suzuna is okay right now, I think. I better hurry quickly. It's really late.

I finally arrive at the train station and buy a ticket. I sit down on the bench and wait impatiently for the train to come. I take out my cell phone and call the house.

"Hello?" Suzuna answers tiredly.

"Suzuna," I say, "it's me, Misaki. Are you okay there?"

"Where are you? It's already eleven-thirty-five. Come home now." Her tired voice worries me; she must be staying up late, waiting for me. Guilt creeps up inside.

"There were a lot of customers at the café, and I had to stay behind," I lie smoothly. "I'm just waiting for the train to come and after that, I'll be there as soon as possible."

"Okay." She hangs up.

I yawn and put my phone back in my pocket. I lean back against the bench and move my neck around, trying to pop it. I suddenly heard chuckles and whispers in front of me. I snap my head up and glare at the suspects. They are smirking at me in a way that made me aggravated. As soon as they see my deathly I-don't-want-to-deal-with-your-perverted-pain-in-the-ass-crap glare, they run away like cowards. I still have my "demon president" self. Good.

"Looks like you still don't need any protecting," a man chuckles beside me.

I look to the side and I see the same man from the club earlier. He is wearing a black trench coat, and his hair was falling over his eyes, making a shadow over it, forbidding me from seeing his eyes and face. He looks so damn familiar. And suddenly—

"Usui?" I whisper, feeling some tears coming. "I-Is that you…?"

I feel a tap on my shoulder, and I look back, seeing the ticket man. "Miss, the train is here now," he informs me. "Everyone went inside already; you should go in before the train leaves." He smiles at me and leaves.

I sigh. "Usui, maybe we should—" I stop when I see no one sitting beside me anymore.

I grit my teeth and run over to the train. I sit down on the chair and bury my face in my hands.

Was it just my imagination? No! I'm not going mad even though the stress right now is killing me! He was there. I know and I saw it. He was there at the club. I know it. I know it. I know it.

Then the tears just come pouring down without my permission.

[Please don't expect an update that comes immediately.

I'm a busy person. Who isn't nowadays?

Thanks for reading. :)]