Written a couple years ago and originally posted to another FF account I made when I forgot how to long into this one. Set in season 1, but written with the knowledge of Annie's backstory and such.


"Flat-butt and The One Abed Wants to Nail."

Pierce's comment from earlier today echoed through Annie's head as she scrolled through Facebook, staring intently at the screen in front of her. She was sitting on her threadbare couch in her out-dated apartment. The whole miserable place smelled strongly of mildew, the flashing neon of Dildopolis shone through patterned violet curtains and someone was screaming outside, but Annie had learned to filter these things out. She had had no choice. Living in this neighbourhood was a challenge, but Annie had no intention of returning to her family and relinquishing her independence. Quickly, she glanced at her door, for the fifth time tonight, to make sure that it was really locked. The paint was peeling, but it wasn't the only thing in the apartment that needed fixing. She would never let her friends come visit her here; she had long ago promised herself this. No one knew she lived here, and no one would ever have to know. In front of the study group, Annie had to seem put-together and perfect. It was a matter of pride, of dignity, and of much-needed control.

"Flat-butt…"

It was silly that she was so worked up over something Pierce, of all people, had said. She was looking through Britta's pictures, searching for photos of the blonde's backside she could compare with her own. She scrolled endlessly through blurry pictures of Britta's handicapped but admittedly still cute cats in various poses. Annie pulled her hair back into a tight ponytail and readjusted her fluffy pink blanket to cover her toes. It was a little chilly, but she just couldn't afford to put the heat up.

Britta didn't have many pictures of herself on her profile, and those that were there were hopelessly out of focus and terrible. Annie furrowed her brow, completely realizing how ridiculous and she was being, and continued her search for a clear photograph of her friend's butt. After a few more minutes, Annie gave up. She closed her computer softly and stood, heading to her room with the blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders.

Once there, she quickly stripped away her clothes, placing them gingerly in her hamper, and went to get her carefully laid-out pyjamas, before thinking better of it and making a stop before her body-length mirror. She was in her favourite scarlet bra and panties, but they didn't cover the long white scars reaching from the bottom of her breasts to her bellybutton. There were some on her thighs too, but these were smaller. These unfortunate relics of her time as a drug-addict were another thing she would hide from her friends for as long as she could, not that they would ever have a chance to discover them.

"The One Abed Wants to Nail…"

Annie turned to her side and twisted her head so she could see the silhouette of her body. She bended and flexed this way and that, so as to get every view possible of her posterior. Flat-butt? No way. Her butt was round and perky, she noted contentedly, returning to the task of putting on her flannel pyjamas. Her butt was much rounder than Britta's, she felt sure of it. She closed her curtains and turned out the light before hastily running to her bed and entering the safety of her covers and grabbing her favourite stuffed animal. Annie had a slight fear of the dark, something she'd never told anyone.

She hid a lot of things from her friends, it seemed.

She sighed and closed her eyes, but her mind would not rest. Why was she so content with the fact that her derrière was decidedly not flat? And if she wasn't Flat-butt, then that left The One Abed Wants to Nail. What did that even mean? It probably meant nothing. The things Pierce said never meant anything. Except sometimes, he had rare moments of insight and wisdom totally unique to him… But this, Annie decided, was probably not one of those few surprising moments. She didn't know why it bothered her so much. She was pretty sure that Abed was asexual, anyway. Except that today he had revealed that he had made out with the hottest girl on campus, and it was apparently neither Annie nor Britta. So maybe he wasn't asexual after all.

The One Abed Wants to Nail… It was just a bigoted comment made in passing by a bigoted old man. Right? Was she holding out hope that what Pierce had remarked held an inkling of truth behind it? Annie tossed and turned. She doubted Abed would ever have said anything to Pierce, but he would have said something to Troy, and that boy could really not keep a secret. So maybe… No. She had to stop dwelling over this.

Annie turned to her side and looked at her window, covered with ratty old sheer curtains, and hoped the rapidly flashing lights from the street below would lull her to sleep deep enough so she could bury her obsessive thoughts behind dreams.