Disclaimer: Me no owning Digimon. I also don't own Be Yourself by Audio Slave. I adore that song! The lyrics in bold and at the beginning of the chapters are from the song.

Please let me know if I should raise the rating. Nothing will get worse than this, but it may be rated M. There is some romance, but you'll only see one couple this chapter.

This will be dark. There's heavy language, drugs and alcohol, and some mention of suicide and prior death.

Oh, and lots of depression.

Enjoy!

EDIT: The lyrics were taken out. Please read next chapter for further info.

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/Eleven O'clock, Friday Night/

If anything, fly towards the damn sun.

If nothing, fly towards the damn moon.

And if everything, fly towards the fucking light.

He repeated the mantra within his head countless times, never understanding where the chant had originated in the first place.

His head was lying on his soft pillow, and he was spread out between his sheets. The windows and doors were closed, and the only light came from the crack below the doorway. His computer screen was blank, but the monitor's monotonous drone echoed throughout the darkened room. It was mainly silent, but the muffled sniffles were clear against the calm and quiet background.

His eyes were red, and his pillow was damp. The sheets were wrapped tightly around him, and his arms were embracing them. He looked cold, yet his body emitted heat.

He wanted to break down again. He wanted to yell and scream. He wanted to hit something, someone.

He couldn't.

Being kind couldn't have been a blessing.

It was a curse.

And it was plaguing him.

He wanted to screech. He didn't know at whom, or why, but he knew he wanted to.

He knew he had to.

But instead, he broke apart.

He fell apart by himself.

Falling to pieces, Ken Ichijouji cried.

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She knew that it was wrong.

She didn't give a damn.

Her mascara was smeared all around her face.

She didn't give a damn.

The bottle stared at her, inciting her.

She didn't give a damn.

He was calling her, since the ring tone played their special song.

She didn't give a damn.

Her head was exploding in pain and in suffering.

She didn't give a damn.

She swallowed them down, and her throat burned.

She didn't give a damn.

Her stomach churned, both in guilt and in nausea.

She didn't give a damn.

She felt like dying.

She knew she was going to.

And yet, Sora Takenouchi still didn't give a damn.

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Ken bit his lip.

"No."

He whispered the word quietly, and calmly.

He was leaning against the wall, his top bunk beneath him. He was curled into a ball, his pillow squeezed into him.

His eyes stared, unmoving and unblinking, at the whitewashed door. The harsh raps of his friend still protruded into his room, but he ignored them.

"Please Ken! Please let me in! I want to help!"

"No."

It was all he would say.

It was all he had said the entire day.

After trying desperately to get him out to eat, Ken's parents had called Daisuke to try and convince him to leave his room.

They were beginning to worry.

They heard his sobs every night.

They heard his restless nightmares every night.

They heard his moans every night.

And it frightened the hell out of them.

They wanted their baby Ken back.

And Daisuke wanted to help.

He wanted his best friend back.

He wanted the smart intellectual who always cared, back.

He wanted Ken to be Ken.

"Ken…please."

Only silence was the response.

"Please Ken. Just stop. Stop trying to be something you know you can't be." Daisuke slid down the door, his back against it, and his hands in his face. "You can't be that Ken." He turned, abruptly, and started beating his fists against the door. "BE YOURSELF KEN! BE KEN! DAMN IT! BE YOUR FUCKING SELF! GET OUT OF THAT DAMN ROOM!"

Daisuke didn't mind the fact that the Ichijouji's were gawking at him. He didn't notice the sudden heavy breathing he heard on the other side.

He just heard himself.

Panting, he turned and left, not caring that no one called him back.

Ken just kept staring at the door, his breathing slightly stronger.

Lying himself down, Ken cried himself to sleep.

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Her head was drooping.

He was at the brink of knocking down the door.

She didn't notice.

She was too fucking high to.

The door collapsed off its hinges, and he only glanced at her figure before rushing to her side.

Her face was pale and ashen. Her hair was sticking to her face, the sweat acting like an adhesive. Her auburn eyes rolled around in their sockets, and they were unfocused.

He was worried.

"Sora! Sora, come on, speak to me!"

Sora looked at her boyfriend in the eyes, and she slurred some words out.

"Go to hell."

He didn't even flinch. He lifted her off the tile flooring, and placed her on the living room sofa.

She made meager attempts to force him to release her, but all were in vain.

Thankfully, her parents were out of town, and weren't coming home for a while.

Before he could say anything encouraging, Sora leaned over the cushions, and threw up on the carpeted floor.

Without missing a beat, he fetched the towels and chemicals and cleaned up the mess. Not wanting to use them again, he also brought a bucket, and handed it to the drunken girl.

"Here, use it."

She grabbed the bucket and threw to the side. He quickly caught it and handed it back to her.

She lifted herself, and made to punch the man beside her.

She missed.

"I said to go to hell. Leave me the hell alone. I don't want you in my house. Fuck, fuck, fuck."

"No, no, no," he countered, and smoothed out her hair. "I'm not leaving you like this. And you don't know what you're saying. You're drunk."

Her words, still garbled and inarticulate, barely left her mouth.

"You're a bast—,"

She fell asleep.

Feebly smiling, he went to get a damp towel, and when he did, he began to clean up her face.

Yamato Ishida spent the rest of the night with his girlfriend.

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"Damn it!"

The young teenager was sneaking out of his mom's house.

He wished he could have called it his 'parent's' house, but he couldn't.

It was his mom and grandfather's house.

So he didn't give a damn that he just ruined his mom's flower bed.

He cared that he scraped his knee against the thorns. But he shrugged it off, and continued.

It was dark, and he was only guided by the stars and moonlight.

He didn't need directions to get himself there.

He knew the fucking place by heart.

He had been there at least a thousand times. He practically lived there.

As he reached the halfway point, he realized that he had forgotten something.

"Shit!"

He headed for the store around the corner. It was the Takenouchi Floral Shop.

He had been to that damn place at least a million times. And not all visits were pleasant.

Gathering his already built up courage, he headed straight in.

Being the cheap place it was, it had minimal security, so he was able to grab his gift and leave without detection.

As he headed for his destination once more, he suddenly made the decision not to go.

It was sudden and unexpected, but he didn't need to hassle tonight,

Turning around, he made it halfway to his house, when he realized something.

"Fuck!"

His grandfather was never a deep sleeper.

Tonight he had been out cold. If he wanted to go through with it, he had to do it tonight.

So, he faced the road, and slowly made his way to the graveyard.

He knew he was going to hell for sneaking out, but he didn't give a damn.

Iori Hida cursed the night to hell.

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"Are you sure?"

"No, I'm not."

Those words didn't encourage her as he left her room. She wanted something that would make her feel better.

She wanted hope, not doubt.

But lately, that was all she was getting.

She slumped into her bed, and ignored the sudden yells emitting from the adjacent rooms.

It was normal for him to be yelling at his parents. He had lost all respect for them.

He had lost all respect for everyone.

She didn't have the strength to cry. She wanted to break down, but she couldn't.

For some reason, fate had made her strong.

Fate wanted her to be resilient.

But she didn't.

She couldn't stand it.

The only reason her brother's nose wasn't broken already was due merely to the fact that he was her brother.

She squeezed her pillow tightly, as she lay down. Eventually, she fell asleep, but not before reflecting on nothing but darkness.

Hikari Yagami was on the brink of giving up.

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He was red.

He was panting.

Slamming the door, he collapsed in his bed.

He hated them.

He hated them all.

He hated having to listen to their constant whining, and he hated their need to have him under their grasps.

He wanted independence.

And the only way he was going to get it was by leaving.

Without rethinking, he grabbed a suitcase, and began to pile clothing inside.

Halfway between, he began to think of her.

"Hikari."

He hadn't thought of her in the midst of his anger. He couldn't leave her with…with them. She couldn't stay.

He had to take her with him.

Quietly, he crept towards her door, which was connected to his room by their joint bathroom. Opening the unlocked door, he saw her sleeping.

She was tossing and turning. She didn't have peace.

And he didn't want to disturb her, forcing her into more pain.

He decided to leave.

Tomorrow. He would go tomorrow.

After making the choice, he went back to his room, and fastened the suitcase. He slid it under his bed, and turned off the lights.

When he tucked himself in, he shut out the discomforts.

He wasn't going to live here anymore.

He hated them.

He absolutely hated them.

He hated them all.

And even if they were his parents, the ones who raised him, he couldn't stand them.

And he couldn't stand any of his friends either.

They were fucking depressed.

He hated depressed people.

But unlike cheerful people, he loved to hate.

And so he hated.

Taichi Yagami hated his life.

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He was always happy.

Never would one remember him depressed.

He may have been disappointed or occasionally sad, but never depressed.

He wouldn't allow himself to steep that low.

He hated depressed people.

But he hated to hate.

So all in all, he was on the verge of hating his friends.

If one is depressed or sad, you talk to your friends or family to resolve it.

Most of his friends refused to speak at all.

From love troubles, to being fed up with their parents, or just being an ass, they were falling apart.

They were all on the brink of chaos.

They had lost all hope and light.

They had become the people they once dreaded and feared to become.

They had once hated themselves.

But now, they were all dead.

They were mentally and emotionally dead.

They were all falling apart.

And Daisuke Motomiya refused to accept it.