You've Seen So Many Faces That I've Never Seen Before. I Left An Un-Rewarding Message Telling You To Come On Over Dramatic, Automatically Assume I'll Stay The Same.

The fact that I'm alive, and not just that - the fact that I'm only alive because some godforsaken, mind bendingly clever, and probably high, stranger told me to be. I hate that fact, and I hate it quite possibly more than I hate myself, but I'm still just a little unsure about that one.

Mike.

The name brings me shivers, and a feeling of retching straight to my stomach. It brings me dread and panicked, and a headache to remember as I try my best to erase a figure from reality that's just far too real to go.

Fucking Mike, whoever the hell 'Mike' is, just let him be assured that I fucking hate him, because here I am, in the bathroom, in school, alone on a Friday and still very much alive, leaving me with an old friend, in mourning of the other to help me take care of my little situation here.

I don't even care that Vic Fuentes could and probably will walk in at any moment now - to be honest; I just hope he enjoys the fucking view. I wonder how he likes this; to see me falling apart at his own hand; I wonder how he fucking likes that, huh?

I bet he loves it; the attention, everything. I bet he fucking basks in the feeling of winning, of finally fucking my life up once and for all by making me fucking fall in love with him. This could all have been nothing more than a game to him; a challenge, perhaps. A little test of the patheticness that lay inside me. He just wanted to make me fall, and he wanted to make me fall - hard.

And I fell. I really fucking fell; I fell so hard, but there are only scars... I need to create the pain and the bruises to make this better, so I need my old friend and I need him now. The addiction is destructively beautiful and therefore all I could ever want, and quite possibly more. But really it is just all I need.

I need him in the empty cold bathroom against my skin.

I need the red against the white and the fear of Vic behind the door.

Maybe I want him to come in.

Maybe I want to see his reaction.

Maybe I just want to see how much he really loves this all.

How much he really loves me.

Not that he does at all, though. I'm not seriously stupid enough to believe that anymore or at least I hope so, clinging onto that thought for my sanity's sake at the very least.

So to prove myself right, I take the first over again for the millionth time, yet somehow the first one is always the best one, and it brings this ecstasy and that's something I live for, and suddenly the twenty four and a half barely feel real anymore, and strangely enough, neither does Mike. It all seems pretend like some falsely planted memory, and strangely enough I think I prefer it that way; choosing to be ignorant over hurt, just like everyone else right in their pinnacle of their own stupidity.

I prefer the clutches of insanity as opposed to the harshness of reality, because one's safe and sound on the outside and I'm only human, so of course I'm attracted to the snugness of insanity, because the darkness on the inside doesn't matter to me anymore.

And the red is only the start; it's really the metal tang that follows that I'm living for. It's the nothing that I'm living for and really it's the dying that I'm living for.

And that's beautifully sadistic - beautifully sadistic enough to make me cave in and die for the red. And I'm not strong enough to resist my desires for longer than a moment, so by the time I look down my unattended and blade laden hand has created five lines across my wrist; all five of them shining and leaking red.

So I make a sixth, because what else is there to do in a situation of self-loathing like this; I make this one because Mike convinced me not to, and I've decided that I hate Mike, whoever he is... real or not.

The possibility of Mike not even being real makes my head spin so I make a seventh, and I find myself thinking about what he said about blood loss and dizziness, so to shut those thoughts up, I make an eighth.

"Kellin-"

I heard his voice before the footsteps and I just put on a smile before spitting out the next few words.

"Deja vu, much?" I make ninth for my beautifully sadistic sense of humour; I think I deserve it. I make a tenth for being self-absorbent. I think I deserve the latter even more. I am just human and therefore naturally self-absorbed, so I won't put myself fully to blame I don't think, but I'm not sure yet- I wonder if he'll let me get away with an eleventh.

"Stop!" He rushed over and pulled the blade out my hand, leaving it to drop into the bowl of the sink, and I grin because that's pathetic compared to how Mike knocked my blade off a cliff. Vic's not even trying, and I want to make an eleventh. At the very least, ten's a round number though... unlike twenty four and a half.

"Fuck, Kellin are you okay- no, that's a stupid question - you're not." Okay, at least the positive was that he could finally grasp the fact that if I was busy fucking slicing away at my arm until it was nothing more than a mess of blood; maybe I just wasn't quite that okay.

"Well done, I'm glad your intelligence has finally grown to allow you to overcome the fact that I'm a fuck up." I snarled in response, smirking to myself a little as my head drooped down.

"Kellin... I..." He let out a shaky breath, watching me nervously as if I might freak out and fucking claw his eyes out or something- which I might, considering just how much of an asshole he is, so who knows, maybe he wasn't being quite so irrational in the first place. I'll let him think he's irrational though, I'll let him drive himself crazy, because that's not on my conscience at all. "I'm sorry, okay. I've fucked up, okay, I know, but what you didn't isn't the way to fix things, okay?"

"Don't talk to me like I'm five." I snarled out, rolling my eyes at him and generally not taking too much notice in the words that left his lips.

"Don't act like you're five." He persisted, pulling my strings tighter and tighter until they'd eventually snap, and of course then he'd be sorry, and of course then, it'd still be entirely my fault.

"How many five year olds do you know that slit their wrists open on a daily basis?" I rolled my eyes, hoping he couldn't answer that question.

"Look, Kellin, I'm sorry... I'm just scared... I just didn't think things mattered to you that much... I didn't mean for this to happen-"

"What else did you think mattered to besides killing myself?" I rolled my eyes at him, scoffing at his words, because they were lies clearly, and pathetic excuses for lies at that. "You invaded my privacy didn't you, reading my letters. Thought you knew fucking everything, huh? Doesn't the truth disappoint?"

"Kellin, shush, please." He entwined our fingers and then pulled my sleeve down over my cuts. "Come on, I'll sort this out." He gestured towards the doorway, but I didn't want to leave - I didn't want that at all.

"What if I don't want you to?" I asked, meeting his broken eyes, because this hurt him, and part of me still hated that, and even more so, I hated the part of me that hated that, because my brain didn't seem to work rationally some days at all - maybe it was blood loss- maybe it wasn't.

"Then... then... then..." He breathed out a sigh, looking hopelessly lost as his brown eyes met mine in one final pleading display of hopefulness. "Kellin, please."

I rolled my eyes at the pathetic mess before me that was barely even recognisable as Vic Fuentes. He'd do so much to fuck me up, and maybe I did just have to respect that, even if it just was for the dedication.

"Fine." I bit my lip, pushing my incisors deep into the tender flesh. "Take me away into your fucking perverted office, Vic." And somehow we ended up smiling at each other, and believe me; I didn't like it at all.

It didn't stop the smile though of course; I was still nothing more than a hypocritical grinning, nut job.

-

"There, that should do." Vic looked down at his mediocre bandaging skills rather proudly. I however, was not quite as impressed with his handiwork as I rather sadistic enjoyed the presence of the sporadic streaks of red against my pale skin. I did compliment him upon it nonetheless, as I wasn't quite in the mood for an argument with a head ache like this.

"You're getting rather good at this." I had to admit, forcing the twitching corners of my lips up into a small and mildly pathetic smile.

He met my eyes slowly, the words coming from his lips with undesired caution. "I've had more experience than I'd like."

"Well maybe you should lose that experience in being an asshole." He chuckled in response, as I rolled the situation off my tongue like it meant nothing and was merely light hearted, but in reality, I just didn't care.

"Maybe we should lose this experience of hating one another." He suggested.

"Maybe." I shrugged it off, avoiding his gaze and hoping he couldn't hear the rapid heartbeat set inside my chest like I could; the heartbeat was the only thing I could hear right now, and it was seriously fucking me up.

"Don't look at me like that with those beautiful blue eyes and tell me 'maybe', Kellin." His words made me jump a little, but I soon calmed down as I let his words infiltrate my ears and I pushed meaning into the little pointless syllables constructed into words like Lego bricks.

"I'm looking at you with the cuts on my arm and the plan to kill myself and telling you that 'maybe this isn't the best of ideas'."

"I'm looking at you having bandaged your cuts and having read those plans to kill yourself and telling you that 'maybe I'm in love with you'." My heart stopped, because he wasn't- he couldn't be. Vic Fuentes was just expertly good at lying of course, so I could do nothing but live up to him, and hm... Out lie him?

"Only maybe?" I found myself raising one eyebrow and Vic letting out a giggle, his cheeks turning red in a way that shouldn't make my heart flutter like it did.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves here." He bites back a blush, but it didn't work at all, and I didn't mind at all either. So I guess that worked for us at the very least.

"Says you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I raised one eyebrow, and then the next followed in close succession without my conscious consent.

"What's that dopey head over heels love-struck expression supposed to mean, huh?" I winked at him.

"I think that maybe you can figure that one out for yourself."

"Maybe." I smirked at him, eyebrows raised as usual, gleaming like fuck as I readied the next few words to just roll off my tongue. "But maybe I'd like you to demonstrate."

And he didn't need telling twice because before I could even comprehend as to what was happening, he had me pinned up against the office wall and we were engaging in a certainly strictly demonstrator only open mouthed kiss.

Vic pulled away momentarily, grinning at me- well, it was kind of more like a smirk, but a playful one at that. "Bubble-gum." He pushed the words forcefully between his lips, almost as if he was blowing a bubble himself.

"Huh?" I felt his breath against mine as he ran his fingers up through my hair and I tried not to get too turned on just from that; it wasn't going well.

"You're not allowed bubble-gum in school, Kellin." He continued. "I can taste it on you. I'll have to punish you."

"You're not allowed to make out with me against the wall of your office in school either, Victor." I mimicked his tone. "I'll have to punish you."

"Head boy can do whatever the fuck he wants." He smirked pushing his lips back down against mine before I could even protest or complain, but when I had Vic Fuentes pressed up to me this closely, I just didn't think I would be complaining.

I scoffed against his kiss. "Really?" He smirked at me as pulled away. "Like what?"

"Like this." He pulled down the top buttons of my shirt, leaving the upper half of my chest exposed and ready for him to rake his cold fingers across my flesh and plant little kisses along every ridge and make sure that he left more than just a little mark.

"Fucking hell, I'm sure you're not allowed to do that." I breathed out, moaning against his touch.

"Guess what? I just did." He smirked at me, looking far too proud of his mediocre accomplishment, and being far too stubborn altogether.

"I'll report you for sexual harassment." I winked at him, not that I think I would- well, maybe I might, it depends how things go.

"I'll report you for bubble-gum." He retorted, his face turning up into a truly ridiculous smile that I couldn't help but subconsciously mimic like a real fucking idiot.

"Hardly a threat is it compared to mine?" I raised my eyebrows at him, a little perplexed as to what the hell could possibly be going on in his mind, but I pushed it off, deciding that maybe I just didn't want to know.

"Head boy magic works wonders though, Kellin - don't forget that."

"Sure thing." I chuckled against his chest, allowing him to do up my shirt once more, despite how much I loved him against me; his fingertips everywhere and the marks left by little kisses running amok both all other my chest and also up in that crazy little head of mine.

"You look good." He mumbled, brushing my hair from my eyes, his fingertips lingering against my skin for far longer than necessary, but I was in no hurry by any means to put a stop to it of course.

"You do too." I smiled back, returning the simple yet astoundingly effective, compliment.

"What with my fucking tie, looking all dressy because I have to go introduce some stuck up parents to how wonderful our 'prestigious academy' is. Basically I have to lie to them, but they're usually all ignorant so it's fine."

"Hmm..." I chuckled, playing with the aforementioned tie. "You look classy."

"That's a long shot, Kellin." He grinned in response.

"Nah." I let my lips hover centimetres away from his. "I think I'm right." And before he could kiss me I pulled away, ducking my head down and stepping back, much to his annoyance, of course, and seeing his annoyed face was reward in itself.

"Kellin..." He pouted at me, releasing a chuckle from my lips.

"Vic, I need to talk about this- I... I know you don't want me to, but fuck, what are we? What fucking label are we, Vic?"

He let out a sigh and gave me a sincere look. "Whatever you want us to be, Kellin."

"I want us to be boyfriends, but you don't want that."

"It doesn't matter what I don't want, because above all, I just want you to be fucking happy, okay?"

"Okay." I sighed out in response.

"So boyfriends?" He grinned at me like a little lovesick puppy. It was cute though - I had to admit it was cute.

"Boyfriends." I couldn't help but agree, even though I knew getting seriously with Vic Fuentes was seriously the worst thing I could possibly do.

-

"Maia, oh my god!" I shook my head at that girl who stood laughing like a maniac over the bathroom sink. "We did not fuck."

"You totally did come on." She perched herself between the sinks and smirked at me like Satan himself. "You went into his private little office and the two of you got well fucking acquainted, I know what happens there on."

"Maia, we did not- okay, we kissed, but nothing else."

"You made out." She corrected me.

"Okay, yeah maybe, but no sex!" I exclaimed.

She shook her head. "So are you a top or a bottom, Kellin?"

"Fuck off, oh my god, Maia." I shook my head, avoiding her compromising gaze entirely.

"I'd say bottom. You seem submissive. You going to let him fuck you, then?" She winked at me like the actual anti-christ.

"Maia, I will fuck-" The bell interrupted our conversation, causing Maia to glance down at the time on her iPhone.

"Fuck, drama, there's a class I actually need to be in." She grabbed her bag. "See you Kells, remember to use lube."

"I really don't think you need any more drama lessons, Maia." I rolled my eyes at her as she waltzed out, holding up her middle finger as she slammed the door behind her.

I sighed, having the misfortune of being alone once more, and as my hand slipped into the sink, I caught hold of something; something familiar, something sharp something I needed.

And soon it all came back to me; Vic had never bothered to pick up my blade after it fell into the sink after all.

I looked at it for what felt like forever, simply marvelling in the beauty of its silver sleek demeanour and the way it could slice me apart if I wanted to.

I contemplated using it for far too long, battling with the thought of Vic Fuentes and wondering how much I loved him, but eventually I gave way, I gave in to addiction, secure in the thought that Vic Fuentes didn't have to know.

I made my eleventh.

And fuck, it was good.

Hey guys:) I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if you did, feel free to leave a vote or a comment, as I do of course always look forward to them hehe;) Love you guys <3