Pairing(s): Nina/Fabian, Amber/Nina, Mick/Fabian, Joy/Fabian, Amber/Alfie, Mara/Jerome, Joy/Patricia, Patricia/Fabian
Warning(s): Underage drinking, weed, drug abuse, anorexia, bulimia, cutting, suicide
Notes: If you don't like this stuff, don't read it. Also, hope you enjoy. And, if you read it, please review. And if you favorite it, please review. I don't want to sound like a review whore, but I'd really love to know what people think of this.

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{Amber Millington}

Blonde hair. Pale skin. Gray eyes. She has the perfect body. She's the beautiful, ditzy cheerleader everyone loves and wants to be. She's perfect. But every perfect thing has to have something imperfect.

Every day she goes through the same thing. Pasta is bad. Bread is no. Chocolate is never. She writes in her diary at the end of the day exactly what she ate and how much fat and carbs it had. She writes her current weight and measurements. She even mentions how she's feeling - whether it be a bad day or a good one.

On the weekends she doesn't eat a thing. She has to make sure that she can lose as much as she can during that short time. The weekdays are the days she eats breakfast just so she can make it through the school day. Sometimes, she'll have a little nutrition bar if she is really desperate to eat and she can't handle the growling of her stomach anymore.

Saturday morning. She wakes up at six in the morning and goes to the bathroom quickly. Then she checks her weight. "98," she whispers sadly. She tisks herself. "That just won't do." She tiptoes down the stairs and opens the door silently. She meets the freezing air waiting for her presence. "Hello, morning," she says. She stretches quickly on the front porch. She starts to jog down the sidewalk and does her ten laps. She stops and leans over on her knees and breathes deeply, watching as the air looks like smoke in the cold, morning air.

She grins and stands up straight. She walks into the house and hears the others are already up and awake. "Amber," Nina says running over to her. "Where have you been?"

Amber smiles. "Just wanted some fresh air," she says. "I do this every Saturday and Sunday, remember?"

"Right," Nina says uncertainly. "Want some French Toast? I made it myself," she offers with a smile.

Say no! Don't do it, Amber. It's the weekend. No food. It's illegal. Food is no.

"Well, um...," her voice trails off as she looks at her friend. "I... I... I already had breakfast. Not really hungry." She pats her stomach and smiles at Nina. "Sorry, but I'm sure it's delicious."

"Yeah," Nina says. "I'm sure it is. And are you sure?"

"Yup, I'm sure."

She rushes up the stairs and slams the door shut to her and Nina's dorm room. She runs to her diary and grabs it.

7:30 a.m.: Just went out for my morning jog. Nina offered me food and I declined it. I would have said yes because I love French Toast, but I weigh 98 pounds. I need to lose some more. Maybe when I reach 90 I'll take some if she ever cooks again.

{Jerome Clarke}

Crazy boy, isn't he? Always ready to do anything. He can easily go into the girl's bathroom with no worries because it's so simple. Open the door. Walk inside. Check to make sure no one is around. Shove something against the door to keep it from opening. He smiles and reaches into the pocket and takes the powder out of the bag. It's always more fun for him to do this in the girl's bathroom rather than the boy's or anywhere else.

He gets a paper-towel and lays it down on the sink counter carefully. He takes out the straw from his pocket and holds onto it. He opens the little plastic bag and slowly - ever so slowly - pours the powder onto the towel. He grins as he sees it resting there, waiting for him.

Carefully, he puts one end of the straw right over it and the other end in his nose. He inhales slowly and feels the powder seep into his nostril. He exhales through his mouth carefully. Then he inhales again and repeats the process a few times.

Finally, he's flying. He can see the world the way he likes it and he gets rid of the evidence and tries not to be too high. He doesn't want it to be too obvious. He hears a girl open the door knob and he moves the stick keeping it shut and runs into a stall, closes the door and locks it. He hears the high heels clicking on the floor and sees the girl enter the stall next to him. He holds his breath and tries not to snicker. He gets down on the ground and tries to see who the girl is. Tan legs. Gorgeous legs. Mara Jaffray.

He hears the toilet flush and the door open and the sink water running. He opens the door to the stall he's in and walks out. "Well, it's a fancy meeting you here again, Mara," he says.

Mara squeals and turns around. "Jerome!" she yells. "What are you doing here? Again?"

He laughs. "My business, not yours."

She glares at him and walks away. "Whatever," she says as she leaves. He watches her and his eyes fall to stare at her legs in that tight little skirt of hers.

He grins. "Nice ass," he says.

She turns around and glares at him. "Go away," she says. She walks away and he keeps getting a good view.

{Nina Martin}

Long, curly blonde hair that just so happens to be perfect. Tall and skinny. She's like Amber Millington. Both of them perfectly imperfect.

Except she's different.

She eats.

And pukes.

And eats.

And pukes some more.

She doesn't keep a diary of what she eats and how much she weighs and how she feels. No, she keeps just a regular boring diary. She remembers how much she weighs. Only 94 pounds of course. Nothing more, nothing less. She wishes it was less though. She wishes she could be weightless. That she could weigh absolutely nothing. How perfect would that be? Oh right, better than perfect.

When she kisses Fabian and he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her closer to him, she wonders how fat he thinks she is. Does he think her waist is too big? Too fat? What if he thinks she's close to being obese? Oh god. Maybe she's too fat. She pulls away from him suddenly and smiles. "I got to go to the bathroom real quick. Sorry, babe," she says. She kisses him on the cheek and runs away and tries to get rid of everything into the toilet. But it doesn't work. She still feels fat. She pops a mint in her mouth and goes back to him. He tries to kiss her but she pulls away. She doesn't want him to taste the puke on her breath.

"Nina Martin," Amber says one day when she's in the bathroom. "What are you doing in there?"

"Nothing, Ams," she says quickly only to feel another part of her stomach come out into the toilet.

Amber starts banging on the door, but stops. Nina hears nothing. Suddenly, the door opens and Amber is standing there with a bobby-pin in her hand. Amber slams the door shut and sits down next to her. "How long?" she asks.

"Three years," Nina says.

"Four years for me," Amber tells her.

"What?"

"Anorexia."

They're both quiet. Amber looks over at Nina. "I think... I think that boys are stupid," she says. "They judge us on our bodies and weight."

"Yeah," Nina says. "I think Fabian does the same."

"All guys do," Amber says. "I've learned this from my years of dating."

Nina nods her head.

"I've moved away from guys," Amber tells her. She looks into her eyes and smiles. "Have you, Nina?"

Nina shrugs her shoulders. "I don't know. I still-" She's cut off as Amber shoves her lips against Nina's.

{Mick Campbell}

He has the most shocking secret out of all of them. The one that no one would ever suspect, ever believe.

He's gay.

Shocking, correct? No one would ever guess by the way he dates so many girls and sleeps around with them too. If he had to tell you how many girls he'd slept with, it would be a total of twenty. He's the player, the boy obsessed with girls.

But maybe he kind of feels attracted to Fabian Rutter. It's always been there. As soon as he first saw Fabian, he noticed how absolutely handsome he was, how he walked, talked, laughed. He felt his heart beating a little too fast when he saw him that time - and every time after. When he found out they were roommates, he felt like he would just die of happiness. He was going to be with Fabian Rutter, the most gorgeous man he had ever laid eyes on.

Fabian's dark brown hair looks so soft and Mick knows it is. He has wrestled around with Fabian and messed around with him so many times. His hair is perfect and he loves feeling it, running his fingers through it once in a while. Fabian's brown eyes are just like chocolate and everyone knows how much Mick loves chocolate.

Mick knows one thing was certain though. He wants to hold Fabian's hand and kiss him on the lips.

{Joy Mercer}

Welcome to Slutsville, the town ran by the one, the only, Joy Mercer. She may be in love with Fabian Rutter and want to date him, but while she's waiting on him to date her she might as well play around, right? And she kind of hopes he hears about her sleeping around and he'll get jealous and want her.

The first time was kind of confusing to her. They were having a party at school. She and Fabian got in a huge fight there and she ran off from him. She met a guy who looked like Fabian and she danced with him. Soon enough, he dragged her to the corner and kissed her on the lips. She liked it and kissed him back harder. His hands started roaming her body and one hand slipped up the skirt she was wearing. He pulled away and dragged her out of the room and to an abandoned classroom and fucked her so hard.

She can't remember any of the times after that because there are so many. She's even been with girls just for the heck of it - because she thought it would be fun. And damn was it fun for her. She enjoyed messing around with Patricia's head by sleeping with her. Maybe it was mean of her to do that to her best friend, but it had to be done.

She even got with Mick. Damn, was that good. They did it right on Fabian's bed and she could just smell the other boy. She swears she might have actually heard Mick say Fabian's name while she was giving him a blowjob, but she doesn't really care. So long as she had her fun, she doesn't care whose name he said. Hell, she probably even said Fabian's name.

Sure, she's a slut, a whore, but she only wants a happy ever after with Fabian Rutter, the only guy she will ever have eyes for.

{Alfie Lewis}

Under his bed in his dorm room is a little scrapbook filled with pictures of Amber Millington. He works on it every day when no one is around him. He has his little cameras with him all the time and he'll take pictures of the beauty queen all the time. In class, in the hall, during lunch, at the house, anywhere and everywhere. He goes home and prints them off on his computer and cuts them out. He writes the date on the top of the page and glues the pictures on.

He goes into his room and grabs his scrapbook. He starts at the beginning and looks at every picture he has of her. He notices something as he flips through. The girl has gotten skinnier and skinnier. She's even more pale. He shrugs it off and keeps looking at her pictures.

He sighs as he closes the book and puts it back under his bed. He leans back and falls asleep only to dream about her.

Okay, so he's not a stalker.

He'll never be a stalker.

Stalking is just creepy and wrong.

Too bad though, because he is one.

{Mara Jaffray}

She is bad. More bad than most people think. She's the goody-two-shoes that is smart and pretty and a virgin. Yeah, she is a virgin, but with all the drinking she does you would think she wasn't.

Yeah, the Mara Jaffray drinks all the time. It's her favorite thing to do.

It all started back when she started going to public school. She went to a friend's party and someone had brought alcohol. She took one sip and it was nasty. They told her to drink some more and she did. And damn was it delicious.

Her parents soon found out and decided to take her out of public schools and send her to a boarding school. She was angry at first until she got there. She became one of the school nerds as expected but she searched so hard for the kids who drink. She finally found one. Jerome Clarke. She bought some off him and finally decided to use something else with him.

Her body.

Sure, they never had sex. But they had lots of foreplay. She let him touch her anywhere and everywhere. It let her get all the alcohol she wanted without paying money for it.

One day he offered her drugs, but she said no. She didn't care about the drugs. She just wanted the alcohol.

{Fabian Rutter}

He sits down in his room and opens the drawer of his dresser. He pulls out the bag of weed and lights it up, ready to smoke it. He breathes it in and loves it. It tastes so good to him and smells wonderful.

He hears a knock on the door. "Fabian?" Mick says. "Why is the door locked?"

Fabian chokes and tries to get rid of the evidence of everything. His high is minimum and not good, but it's okay for now. He opens the door and sees Mick looking at him.

"Why is there smoke, Fabes?" Mick asks, looking down at him.

"What smoke?" he says.

Mick looks at him carefully. "I know you very well, Fabian. And I know you're lying to me."

Fabian rolls his eyes, worry hitting his stomach. "I'm not lying. You're just crazy. Imagining things, I guess," he says.

Mick looks at him closer. "Fabian," he says. "I know I smell smoke. In fact, there's a lighter right over there on your dresser." He points to the lighter on the other side of the room. He looks back at the guilty looking boy. "You know you can trust me, Fabes. You can tell me anything and I won't judge you. Ever."

Fabian sighs and falls down onto his bed. "Promise not to tell?" he asks Mick.

"Of course," Mick says sitting down next to Fabian.

"Well," he sighs and takes a deep breath. "Weed."

Mick sits there in silence with him. He takes a breath. "That's okay, I guess," he says. "We all have our addictions."

"Do we really?" Fabian asks.

"Yeah," Mick says.

"Okay," Fabian says sitting up to look at Mick. "I told you my secret. You tell me yours."

Mick sucks in a deep breath. "I don't have one," he lies easily. Fabian raises an eyebrow. "Okay...," Mick says. "I... I do steroids." He's lying, but it's good enough for Fabian.

{Patricia Williamson}

That whore played with her heart, her mind. Her best guy friend messed around with her. No one likes her. No one loves her. She's always going to be the dumb, annoying goth.

Her eyes close tightly as she sits on her bed. She fumbles with the razor in her hand.

It's simple. It's easy. You've done it before, Patricia.

She breathes and slices it along her arm so quickly. She feels the shooting pain and sees the blood dripping out of the cut slowly. She slices again. She sighs after a while as the pain eases a little.

See that. Easy.

"I know," she says out loud. She gasps and covers her mouth with her hand. She can't believe she just answered it.

Haha. I knew you'd talk to me one day.

"Go away," she says covering her ears with her hands. She falls into her pillow.

Can you breathe with no air?

She screams and lets all the air leave. Suddenly, she realizes that there is no air. She can't breathe. She's losing oxygen. She kind of likes it.

I knew you would. Maybe you should stay this way forever. It would feel nice, wouldn't it? No more pain. No more people. No more Joy Mercer. No more Fabian Rutter. It would all be pefect.

She sits up suddenly. "No," she whispers. "I... Fabian... Joy..."

Oh, fuck them just like they did you. Forget what happened between you and them. Forget it all. I'm sure if you died they wouldn't care. What's the point of life anyways?

"But... They're my friends."

Ex-friends. You shouldn't even care about them anymore.

She sighs and looks down at her wrists.

There's a vein in your neck. If you cut it, you'll die. Or, you're on the second floor of this building. Jump out of the window onto the concrete. Maybe you'll get lucky and be gone for good.

"I can just cut the vein and it'll all be gone?" she asks.

You already knew that, hon. But, yeah. Everything will be just perfect for you.

"Really?" she whispers.

Really.

She grins widely. She grabs the razor once last time.