**** attention attention everyone! I have spectacular news! My darling friend Wayskarthkat made.....wait for it.....an epic, amazing, wonderful trailer for this book! You guys should definitely watch it because it's so fucking cool it makes me squeal.

There's examples of Luna (blond not brunette sorry but Hanna Marin seemed perfect for Luna), Leah and Esha ^,^ not set of course but just some possible examples :) wattpad YouTube is being a git but I'll give you guys the link, I hope you check it out:

http://youtu.be/-7drgqLQrUc

If it doesn't work tell me :)

I've been watching it all day, I'm so in love with it haha. So here's an update for y'all! It inspired me I guess you could say ^,^

So y'all be wondering about Ronnie, so here it is ****

*Ronnie*

Days. Weeks. Months. Nearly a year. Nearly a year and still, still I can't get her out of my head.

Still can't sleep without missing her warmth, her desperate clinging, her intoxicating touch, smell, everything.

Still can't lay in bed looking at the left side, where her body used to curl up, reaching over towards me. Still can't sleep without feeling as if she was there, rolling over to my side in her sleep, like she always does-did...

I want to cry. Does that make me weak? I don't know. I haven't really cried over her, I more so suffocate myself with thoughts of her until I collapse, and then more.

I don't want to talk to anyone about it, because I'm scared. They all love her. God damnit, I couldn't blame them. It takes one look into her green eyes, one glance at the yellow rings around her pupil, and she wins you over like it's fucking hypnosis.

You just - you want to get to know her when you see her. You want to protect her. You want her near.... especially when she gets needy at night and clings onto you like her life depends on it, her eyes scrunching shut tightly, her lips pursing in a pout. She just, you can't hate her.

Even I can't hate her, even when sometimes I can almost swear I do. I hate her for making me love her. Hate myself for letting me fall for her.

And most of all, I hate myself for not seeing it coming when she betrayed me, left me. They all leave. Everyone does. You can't trust anyone. Not even yourself.

I haven't left my house in days. I think I'm starting to grow a beard. I do nothing but lay in bed and torture myself with thoughts of her, letting Charlie out to do his business every few hours.

Jesus, I sound fucking crazy. What am I doing?

God damn me, I'm letting myself get all mushy and self-pitying because of one stupid girl. One stupid, beautiful, spectacular girl-damnit. I can't even hate her correctly. I can't do anything right...that's why she left me I bet....

She chose drugs over me. She chose, not me.

But maybe if I'd been more affectionate, she would've chosen me, maybe, maybe I could've done better, been better for her, to her?

I can't let myself get torn up like this, come on man, you're acting like a girl! What next, gonna eat Ben and Jerry's and watch chick flicks? Ditch the balls and get a fucking pussy? Man up, you got balls, now act like it!

I took a deep breath and walked to the bathroom. Staring into the mirror, I recalled everything Ryker told me she loved about my face. My 'sweet little tuft of hair' as she called it, my hair, everything.

I think I need a change. I can't even look at myself without thinking of Ryker.

I picked up the razor and got to work.

*Ryker*

I woke up after another dream. Another fucking amazing dream about Ronnie and his arms and being in them and him in-okay, stop. There's no use in reminiscing about it, it's fucking over! Gone! Sayonara! Buh-bye, see you never again. Get over it already!

But how could I get over the single best thing in my fucking life? You don't just get over that! You can't! I can't! And I won't!

I can try, but I'll never stop missing him, never.

I can't even consider it, because without him I'm missing a part of myself. Hell, I'd be dead if it weren't for him, literally.

That's not just something you forget.

He was the first one I loved, the first one who actually made me feel wanted, made me feel special, make me believe what he said. And what did I do? Fucking fucked it up, I did. Of course, can't trust myself to do anything. Damnit.

It's sink or swim, they say. But they don't tell you that you drown either way, swimming just prolongs the agony. So why shouldn't we just give in, choose the easier path and sink, it would get it over with more quickly.

Hope. That's why. Fucking hope, a fucking disease. It lures you in, makes you think that maybe there's a chance, maybe you'll get that dream job, maybe that Senpai will notice you, maybe that music label will look at your demo. And then when it has you in its claws it squeezes tight and takes you for all that you've got.

Hope is the real bad guy, not Death. Death never pretends to be something he's not. He simply is, and he never tricks you. Hope, hope is the sneaky bastard that pretends to be your friend, pretends to help you, and then fucks you over backwards. Twice.

But still, even after hope drops you on your ass, you still crawl right back to it, because you can't get that single little thought out that maybe you can do it, maybe this time is the time, maybe this time you'll make it.

We're a victim of our own minds. It's better to give in, but where's the fun in that? Sarcasm highly stressed.

I still can't get over him. I can't get over the hope. I can't let go of him. Because if I do, I'll lose myself just as much as I'll lose him.