I demand that all fanfic writers go out and have a go at writing bad Vince. It is so, so, so much fun! He should be bad all the time!

Right, it's angsty again, and the it won't be getting any happier for quite a while, so brace yourselves :P

And no, Vince isn't insane, he just has an over-active imagination.

Chapter 7

Vince was having a shit day. There was no other word for it. He slammed the front door of his house as hard as he could behind him. It hadn't been locked, which made his afternoon even worse, as it meant his mother was somewhere in the vicinity.

It had started at lunch. He had been sat on a wall with all of his friends. Some chav had walked past and made a dig about his hairstyle...or his lack of a hairstyle. His friends had given him a look like are you gonna just sit and take that? As far as Vince was concerned, he hadn't had a choice in the matter. He couldn't just sit and take it. He had to jump off the wall and run over to the guy. Had to throw all his weight into a punch.

Vince didn't realise what he had done until he was sat in the headmaster's office, his knuckles burning and crimson blood stains splattered on his pristine school shirt like wine on a table cloth. His hand had darted to his nose. It was a shape different to how it had been before. He couldn't feel it properly, it was numb and his fingers couldn't hold on to one place, they slipped because of the blood.

"Suspended?!" His mother yelped, she was stood in front of him now, and Vince was back in his kitchen at home. The headmaster's office seemed a mile away.

"For a month," Vince added simply, like he was stating the weather or something equally dull.

"A month?" Her mouth hung open. Vince could see the fillings in her back teeth. "What on earth did you do to be suspended for a month?"

"I got in a fight."

"Yes, I can see that," She looked at him in disgust. "But I didn't think they would take you out of school for so long...just for fighting..."

"That's not all."

"Oh?"

"I told to headmaster to go fuck himself." He continued to speak as if it was nothing of importance. A smile betrayed him. Creeping on to his face when he remembered the headmaster's expression. The way a vein stood out on his forehead like a snake under his skin. Skin glistening a vicious shade of purple as he hollered at Vince. Told him that if were up to just him, Vince would never return to school at all.

"You think it's funny? Oh, Vince..." his mother whispered, a hand covering her face. "Just...go to your room. I don't want to even look at you right now."

He went to him room. He sat on his bed, wondering exactly when everything had changed. When had his friends turned to people who wanted to see you get your nose broken? They hadn't helped him. They had just stayed there on that wall, letting the crowd form around him. They hadn't helped him when he was on the ground, the concrete cutting into the side of his face. Hadn't they panicked when Vince put his hand to his face and it came away red?

Vince wondered exactly when fighting back tears had become more difficult then fighting off those kicks to his ribs. He almost laughed. The boy he had hit...his friends had come to help him...were Vince's friends more pathetic than a group of hoodies? He did laugh. It hurt his side.

- - -

He walked. He didn't know where he was walking to. The wind whipped his hair into his face and he couldn't see. People hurried past, their heads tucked down in their coat collars against the chilling wind. They didn't look to see the boy who pushed past, his arms crossed against a t-shirt too tight against his chest. He was cold because he hadn't thought to grab a jacket when he had stormed out of his house.

Vince caught sight of a familiar face. Walking towards him, she was trying to push her long brown hair behind her ears, out of the way of the wind. Gideon. Vince cracked a smile. He longed to talk to someone who might be on his side. Might pity him. Might understand.

"Gideon!" Vince called out to her as soon as she was within earshot. He wanted to see her smile. He wanted to see someone smile.

She saw him, but didn't smile. Their eyes locked for a moment before Gideon forced her gaze away, fixing her expression into one of determination. She was set on pushing past Vince. Set on ignoring him.

Vince frowned. Whatever he had done that meant she refused to call him, meant she pushed past him like that, her shoulder forced past his own, it had to be bad. His hand reached out of it's own accord, grabbed her arm and pulled her round to face him. People in the street noticed them now, swearing and muttering because they were blocking part of the street.

"What's up?" Vince asked. She wouldn't look at him. Isn't anything going to go right today? he asked himself.

"You're in people's way, Vince," was all she said, quietly, after the third person shoved past and swore. Vince almost swore too, but he held his tongue. Keeping a hold on Gideon's arm, he manoeuvred both of them out of the path of rushing people and into the shelter of a bus stop.

"Why won't you look at me?" Vince demanded, acting more daring than he actually was.

So she did. Just glanced at his face. Her cold expression melted into one of concern when she saw the harsh red line along his cheekbone, so bold it could have been drawn on with a marker. The purple mark on his nose. the red line that seemed to divide his bottom lip perfectly in two. She tried to force her expression back to how it had been before, but it wouldn't stay.

"What happened to you?" She brushed her fingers over the gaze on the size of his face. Vince flinched.

"I got into a bit of a fight, that's all."

"Oh god, is your nose broken? It looks terrible!"

"Gee, thanks!" Vince couldn't help but smile, stretching his already split lip was painful, but he reckoned a joke was worth it. "I get beat up and you help my self esteem by telling me my nose is ruined!"

"I don't think you'll ever have a problem with your self esteem, Vince," Gideon smirked, temporarily forgetting that she was meant to be angry at him.

"Oh great, so now I'm big headed too? Ugly and arrogant!" He pretended to accuse her, but couldn't stop laughing.

Gideon laughed too, reaching up to brush a strand of Vince's dark hair away from his face. "I didn't know it was even possible to be ugly and arrogant."

"Well, clearly, I manage it!" He grinned, turning his back to Gideon and changing his mouth from a smile to a mock pout.

"Oh, Vince, stop winding me up!"

The two of the stayed sat on the bus stop bench for a few more minutes, laughing and joking, when Vince's mobile gave a piercing ring and demanded to be answered. He grabbed it and ducked behind the bus stop, where the traffic wasn't as loud, to take the call.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Vince, it's Howard."

"Oh, hey..." Vince's mind traced back to the last time he had talked to Howard. He had said they might meet up some time...maybe he was ringing to arrange it? "How did you get my number?"

"How many Noir's do you think there are in the phonebook?"

Vince laughed. "Uh oh, you rang my mum to get my number?"

"Yeah. Uh oh indeed. She's not very happy with you. Told me to tell you that you have to go home right away...she said some more stuff...but I kind of tuned out...no offence to your mother, who I'm sure is a lovely woman."

"Lovely is one way of putting it," Vince smirked to himself, "so how can I help you?"

There was a shuffling sound on the other end of the phone and a pause before Howard spoke. "I have a bit of a confession to make."

"Oh?"

"Please don't get mad, I feel so terrible about this..."

"What?" Vince asked, his stomach twisting uncomfortably.

"I didn't give Gideon your number."

So that's why she hasn't called me! Vince bit his bottom lip, he remembered the previous night, how long he had stayed up, just waiting for a phone call or a text. He tasted blood and remembered that he was biting right into the scab on his lip. He wiped it off on the back of his hand.

"Okay." Vince wanted to shout at Howard, tell him how he had worried. He wanted to tell him how his day had been even worse, 'cause the whole time he had been worrying what terrible thing he had done to deserve being blanked. But he couldn't shout, it was like someone had turned the volume down on his voice.

"You're not mad?"

Yes, yes you are. "No, I'm ok." He wasn't quite sure why he was lying.

"Thanks a lot Vince...one more thing...and again, please don't be mad."

Vince's stomach twisted again, telling him that he was going to get even angrier this time. "Alright, what is it?"

Again, there was a brief silence on the other end of the phone. "I told her...I told her that you were going out with someone else..."

No wonder she wouldn't look at me! She thinks I'm a cheater! She thinks I'm a horrible person...she still does...she doesn't know that isn't true. Vince began to panic. Now she won't believe me if I tell her it's not true, 'cause she'll just think I'm a liar as well!

"Vince, are you ok?" Howard's nervous voice reminded Vince that he was still on the phone.

No, you're not ok. "I'm fine." Why couldn't he tell the truth? He knew why. The lies were easier, they were simpler, they didn't involve any more fighting.

"Really? Wow...Vince...I can't begin to tell you how relieved I am. Can I ask you one favour, even though I've been so mean?"

"Go ahead."

"If you see Gideon, please don't tell her I lied about you, she'll think I'm horrible too."

"Okay."

"Okay? You'll do that for me? Thanks Vince! I'm really sorry for lying like that, I don't have an excuse for it...I'm just really sorry. Am I forgiven?"

"Yeah, sure..." You haven't forgiven him...don't lie.

"Thanks so much...I have to go now, but I owe you one. Bye!" Howard hung up the phone.

Vince's thoughts started racing so fast that they hurt his head. One side of him, badgering, bugging him for telling lies all the way through that conversation. His conscience demanded an explanation. Why can't you just be honest? Why couldn't you just tell him you were angry? He would have understood and you could have worked it out. Now you're as much of a liar as Gideon thinks you are.

Then there was another part of his brain. The bit that liked to work things out. It was trying to work out why Howard had told those lies about him. You saved his life, why would he say things like that about you? Especially to Gideon, when he knows that she likes you. For once, it didn't take long for Vince's brain to work something out. He's jealous! He was trying to break the two of you up. He loves Gideon!

Then there was the negative of his conscience. The little devil, sat on his shoulder, like the one in cartoons. He lied about you, it taunted him. If it was real, Vince could imagine it sat on his shoulder, pulling at his hair. You should get revenge...you should tell Gideon that he lied about you. Go on, tell her. Then she'll never like him! It cackled in his ear, then suddenly dropped it's voice and whispered. No...wait...I have a much better idea...

Vince couldn't help but grin wickedly. It was a better idea.