Wrote this on my spare time. Wasn't beta'd—so if you spot some minor or major errors that I made, please forgive me. Just trying to do another shot at the angsty stuff… tell me what'cha think about it. Do I do good? Heh… I've missed FFnet a lot. (;

I do not own iCarly.

She was never enough for him.

She knew that. He didn't even have to tell her. She knew that all the I-love-yous he had told her was nothing compared to all the I-hate-yous that had used to slip through his lips between their teasing and bantering and all the stupid arguments they had.

She had always put her mask on, just like a clown. She had pretended to be a tough, harsh, rude, violent human being to everyone, and she'd never planned to stop. She'd never let anyone see her through her façade because of one simple reason.

She was afraid. She had always been afraid.

She knew that the real person behind her unbreakable walls was too vulnerable. So insecure, delicate, so weak. She hated being weak—she didn't want anyone to see her weaknesses.

And that was why she knew she wasn't good enough for him. Who the hell wanted to be with such an emotionally broken creature like her?

Her insecurity increased as she came to a realization that her and her boyfriend was never ever going to work. Their relationship was a bullshit—a love/hate bullshit. How could they even get together in the first place? They'd hated each other. And all in a sudden they turned into such a lovey-dovey couple—which made her sick to her bone. This could not happen, could it not? She was actually insane, she belonged in that damn mental institution. She was delusional to even think that this man would want her for who she really was.

But he didn't know. He didn't know who she really was. He never got to seek through her walls, he never got so tear down her façade, he never got to see the person behind the mask.

If he did, she was sure that he would immediately turned on his heels and left. (she hated when people left her—like her father and her sister did)

So instead, she decided to do that first.

It was that night in the elevator when she finally got the chance to leave him, break him, tear him apart before he could do that to her. It was such a perfect moment.

The emergency switch was flipped off.

"She wasn't talking about us," he desperately said.

But she wanted to roll her eyes at him. I know, she thought. But that doesn't matter because I am still going to end whatever this show we are doing.

His words still hurt, though, when he finally concluded that they both were just forcing the connection that they both had and mistook it as a romantic feeling. And yet he offered another chance someday, when she became more normal (see? even the damn boy think she was abnormal) or when he became more abnormal (yeah, they really shouldn't have gotten together in the first place—they were just so different, like fire and rain). So, no, she didn't think she would ever consider getting back together with him someday. Maybe she would, but she knew she was never going to take the chance for real.

"So did we just… break up?" she offered, resisting the urge to destroy her own walls in front of him. She realized her voice had just croaked, but she tried to ignore it.

"Feels like it," he whispered.

She lost herself in her thought. She wanted to break down right now, to slid down against the elevator door and laughed and cried and curse herself out loud for being… her. She hated herself, really, really, really hated herself. She just wanted to disappear to a place where she could just drop her mask and stop faking all these smiles that covered her pain.

She was broken, wounded, shattered by their decision to burn the bridges that had hung between them to the ground. But this was for the best, she kept reassuring herself that. Someday he'd meet someone else, someone better who wouldn't need to put a mask to love him completely. Someone that he deserved, and she knew it was not her. She would never be that kind of girl.

The emergency switched was flipped back and the elevator jolted down. The door then slid open and she got out. But he stopped her with the three famous words of lie.

"I love you."

Lie, she thought. She didn't believe it—she didn't want to. She was fed up of all these lies. She was tired of pretending that she knew that he really did love her. She knew he did not. Hell, no one would ever love her. Why would anyone love her? She was just an insecure pretender who could only hide behind the sarcastic/playful/fun/carefree personality. Everything about her was just a bunch of lies (and she could not afford to gulp down another lie).

No one would ever love her; a girl with rude remarks who ate like a freaking pig. She was disgusting. No wonder why he always lied to her when he said she was beautiful or when he said that he loved her— he was just trying to make her feel better because she was disgusting. Why would he love her? He was an honor student with straight-A's in his report book. He was everything she was not. He did not deserve her, he deserved better. Like their brunette best friend, maybe. Or her sister who lived overseas—yeah, that perfect little mommy and daddy's girl who got all the affections she never had.

She soundlessly sighed. He really didn't need to tell her all those lies. He didn't have to pretend like he really meant all those I-love-yous. He didn't need to pity her. He didn't need to make her feel loved, it really was unnecessary. She was used to feel unloved; their parents taught her that. She would be fine without love. She would be fine without him.

She grew angry, mad, pissed. She hated him really much. She hated how he could make her feel like he was saying the truth. She hated how he could make her feel worth it. She hated how he could make her feel like she was actually loved. She hated how much he really meant to her. She hated how he could easily fake everything and make it look oh-so-real. She hated how he made her love him when she knew she should not.

So she wanted to do revenge. She wanted to break him even more. She wanted him to feel how she felt every time she was being lied to. She wanted to tell him the same crap he'd always told her. So, she breathed him a lie in return.

"I love you too."

But somehow, she unconsciously leaned forward and kissed him on his lips. It wasn't long, just a short, chaste kiss, but long enough to make her wonder as the softness of his lips lingered on hers.

Was she really telling him a lie? Was she really certain that he was lying?

Everything was a blur to her as he pushed her back into the elevator, capturing her lips once again with his, savoring every moment she kissed back and her sneaky tongue slowly slid in and danced, traveling up to his mouth. She could swore she was seeing—or feeling—sparks somewhere in her mind, but she was too arrogant and she wanted to believe that everything was a lie. The door slid closed and so did her mind. She forgot how to think—she didn't even wished to care what to think anymore.

Maybe she wasn't.

11:59 p.m; one last kiss. One final kiss... (he kissed her deeply, she moaned and pulled away)and it was over.

She put her mask back on her face as his lips finally left hers. She avoided his gaze and stepped out of the small metal box she had been in for the last one and a half hour. But he grabbed her arm once more before finally letting go.

She swallowed hard.

"Good… night."

And she was back to pretending.

FIN