Michelle-Note: I don't own these characters, it's fanfiction. Oh, and this is rated M because I sometimes get graphic when I'm in the mood, and it's filled with gaaaaaaaaaay. I love Disney Channel women. Get excited!

Chapter 1: This Just Doesn't End

Ren: Princeton, somewhere in some library: 12:02am: March 12

I wasn't the best anymore. I got into Princeton and there were tons of Larry Beales that I didn't expect. I hadn't been prepared for such competition. It was new. I hate change. I wasn't the best, nor the second best, nor third, and I couldn't stand it. I was fourth. Fourth in my department was like…you didn't even matter! If you're not top two, you don't matter. And it was the spring semester of junior year! I desperately needed to dominate my midterms…kill them. The thought that someone was better than me plagued me constantly, and I was perpetually over-caffeinated lately, so constantly was a bit more than normal. Sleep was the first thing to go when I prioritized, then food.

Pulling my feet under me and sipping my cappuccino, I perched in my cubicle in the library. I slept there the past four nights. Right there, this cubicle, on the fifth floor, surrounded by books, and with no human interaction. I seldom interacted with people anyway. Especially since I realized I was fourth.

I stared at my notes, processing them, memorizing them. Understanding. I was trying my hardest, but for the first time in my life, my hardest, which was damn near perfect, was not the best. Other people, who also tried hard were just better than me. The thought that people were just better than me was horrifying.

"Oh God!" A girl's voice cried out.

I ignored it.

But then…

"Oh God!"

It happened again. I also heard a distinct rhythmic sound…like against the bookstacks…like someone fucking against the bookstacks…not too far away…not too close. Were the sounds related?

Didn't matter.

I went back to my notes.

"Yes! God, yes!" And a loud moan.

My blood began to boil, and my temper rose quickly. The nerve of some people! Who has sex in the library?! Who does that?! And during midterms! There's no time for silly fornication! For God's sake!

I picked a book up and slammed it onto the desk – a warning.

"Don't stop!" The girl's voice shouted, and let out another primal groan.

I heard other people shifting in their cubicles, probably turning up their ipods, which I did not have with me.

"That's it!" I stood up, looked around, and searched the aisles for the perpetrators. I stomped between the cubicles and bookstacks, stalking like some malicious predator. If I wasn't having sex, no one should be having sex…especially when I'm fucking trying to study for fucking biochemistry.

My ears perked and I followed the faint moans, giggles, and the obnoxious, tedious thrusting sound. Then I saw them! I saw the long dark hair of the exceptionally loud girl with her senselessly short skirt hiked up to her belly-button, and the naked white ass of the guy fucking her against those poor defenseless books. My God, the books! The disrespect! They paid no mind to me, as I approached them rapidly from the opposite end of the shelves.

"What the fuck is your problem?!" I screamed and flailed my arms wildly.

Startled, they came apart, and the boy pulled up his pants with ridiculous speed that I had never before witnessed from any male. He looked embarrassed, and kept opening his mouth to say something to me, but no words ever came out. The girl though…the girl, she took her time to fix her skirt, sorted out her hair, and then crossed her arms, and proceeded to look at me like I was utterly retarded.

"Why the fuck would you be having sex in the library during midterms? Seriously?" I asked her, not intimated in the slightest.

"Do you know who the fuck you're talking to?" The thin Asian girl said back to me.

"I'm gonna go…" The boy mumbled, and scurried off.

"I'm clearly talking to some outrageous slut that doesn't give a shit about respecting other people, who are at this fucking school to get an education."

She continued to glare at me like I was more at fault for interrupting her than she was for interrupting me. I glared back. Her glare suddenly melted into a look of utter confusion, "Do you really not know who I am?" She asked, "Like seriously?"

"No." I shook my head. I didn't really care, "Who the hell are you? I'm so going to report you to Stan downstairs."

"I'm London fucking Tipton, bitch."

An awkward pause ensued, and then I said, "Who?"

Her arms dropped to her sides and she looked like a child whose puppy had just been run over, "Do you not read tabloids? Do you not watch MTV, E!, or like…any TV?"

"No?" I didn't have time for that.

"Oh my God…" She seemed crushed. Completely. Her eyes got all water and glazed over.

"I'm so confused…"

"My daddy owns the Tipton Hotels…"

"Oh…" Something vaguely clicked in my head, "You were the girl…" This was the girl Ruby was so excited about me attending school with! "You're the girl…with the cocaine in her pockets…and with that sex tape…with that…dude…" I paused, "I heard you went here...but I didn't really…you know…care."

"Yeah. My daddy also gives a lot of money to Princeton. He sort of owns a lot of campus really, so I sort of get to do what I want…you know what I mean?"

"Mmhmm…" I squinted, and studied her.

She squinted back at me, "Are you poor?"

I tilted my head to the side, "Well…not poor…per se. Upper middle-class, maybe?"

"So…poor?"

"Yeah…" I said just to agree with her.

London's eyes grew wide, and cleared of any tears, "I love poor people. I need a new poor friend."

"I need to study…" I pointed back toward my cubicle.

"Study?" She said in such a way that it seemed like she didn't know what studying meant.

"Yeah? Midterms."

"Oh, are those tests?"

I nodded, unsurely.

"I think I do have one of those." The wheels in her head began to turn and then she said eagerly, "Can you help me?"

"What is your test in?"

"Probably a class."

"Yeah…ok." I started to walk away.

"Can I give you a make-over?"

"Not now, no."

London appeared taken aback, "Look, let's exchange numbers. You're my new poor friend."

"Alright."

We exchanged numbers and I made a mental note to text Ruby about it as soon as my biochem midterm was over. I started off back toward my cubicle, trying to get the image of this girl fucking against the bookstacks out of my mind, but it was burned there.

"Oh wait. What's your name?" She called after me.

"Ren," I answered without turning, "Ren Stevens."

"How do you spell that?"

"R-E-N." I said.

"Oh, like the monkey. Gotcha."

I found it best to play along, "Exactly."

"Yay me!" She squealed and clapped her hands in some sort of celebration, while I returned to my books. My books…my nice…safe…books that rested in my nice, safe cubicle with my cappuccino that was probably cold. My books were my friends, and I had grown quite fond of my cubicle.

"Ren…" London whispered and poked her head around my cubicle.

I raised and eyebrow, "What? My cappuccino is cold and I need to study."

"I can get you another one…or like…seven."

Shrugging, "That would be cool, since I'm your new poor friend."

"I'll do that!" She finally disappeared.

I may as well use her for what she was worth, which was several million. I liked free cappuccino…assuming she could find her way back to me with one…or seven. With that, I had a new friend. Approaching the end of my junior year of college and I had a new friend. She was my first new friend at Princeton…

She certainly wasn't my competition, and the more I thought about it the more my social life was really disappointing. Ruby would be proud. Ruby would also be hella excited that London Tipton bought me a cappuccino…or seven.

I smiled and began drawing the structure of glucose.