It's not like I could resist him. Everything about him just begged me to want him. Sadly I did just that. I wanted him with his skin tight shirts and hug my butt jeans. A real cowboy that LeBeau and what am I? I am the fool that is standing in his living room at three in the morning listening to him go on and on about her. That piece of trash blonde that wouldn't know a hammer from a table saw. I swore to myself I wouldn't do this anymore but he really needed me, or so he said. I watch him pace back and forth, the way he's been doing for at least two hours now. All I really want to do is punch him and go to sleep.

"I mean it this time," his accent is thick, "I am done with that woman. All she is is trouble and I don't want any parts of it anymore."

I've heard this speech before. About how this time she'd gone too far and she's cheated on him for the last time. No one does that to Remy LeBeau, no one. She's made him look like a damn fool, blah, blah, blah. But he doesn't mean it. Tomorrow she'll show a little leg and bat those pretty blue eyes and he'll be putty in her hands. I'd be willing to bet my life savings on it. When it comes to Belladonna the boy has no back bone. It's totally disgusting. The way she can just wrap him around her perfectly manicured finger. He stops, looking at me.

"Are you even listening to anything I'm saying," he questions.

"I don't need to listen to know what you are saying," I lean back on the couch, "I've been hearing this speech for a very long time now. Here's a crazy idea, why don't you actually dump her instead of just saying you're gonna do it?"

And he's off again, yet another speech I've heard a million times. He can't just leave her, he loves her and he knows that despite her actions she loves him too. False, diphthong, she loves his money and he has a lot of it. Who wouldn't love being with a guy that was totally rich and 100% sexy? All ladies that would refuse that please raise your hand. Yeah, didn't think I'd see any hands. Not to mention the boy has a heart of gold, always trying to do the right thing. But her, being with her, all it did was make him…

"Ugly," I mumble.

He stops dead in his tracks, "What did you just say?"

Shoot, I said it out loud. But it was true. He'd become an all-around ugly person. He cared about the way he looked, the places he shopped, even the people he surrounded himself with. That's where I come into play. He was told by Belladonna that I wasn't pretty enough to be his friend. After a while I got tired of being the reason for their arguing so I stopped coming around, stopped answering the phone. I know, I know. I'm a terrible friend but I didn't want to be the scapegoat for every problem that had anymore. It just wasn't right and it hurt a lot. But the less I saw of him, the uglier he became.

"I said ugly," I let out a sigh, "Look, Remy, it's late and we have school in the morning not to mention I have work after that. Can we just talk later or something?"

"Not until you tell me why you randomly said ugly," he crossed his arms.

I take a deep breath. Do I really want to get into this with him right now? No, not really but I also know that if I wait until another day, that day may never happen. I stand up, wanting to be able to leave as soon as I am finished talking. Truth be told it's way too late to be having meaningful conversations with your ex-best friend that still doesn't notice you've basically dropped yourself from his life. But how do I even begin to explain months' worth of feelings that have been bottled up inside my head. I need a really stiff drink or something.

I let the breath that I've been holding go, "You, I am calling you ugly."

"I'm ugly," he scuffed, "You ask any girl out there and I think they'll tell you differently."

Cocky as usual. Of course he thinks I mean looks. He doesn't even think about the inside. Everyone can see that he's beautiful on the outside, but inside? Inside she has turned him into an ugly, vain human. He's bitter now, not able to laugh and joke the way we used to. It hurts inside, knowing that my best friend is gone now. I look into his eyes. Those red and black eyes that used to glow with passion. Now they were flat and lifeless. I looked away from him.

"I have to go," I said sadly.

He grabbed my arm as I went to leave, "No, tell me what's so ugly about me."

I closed my eyes, "All of you. The entire inside. It's bitter and ugly and I hate looking at you anymore."

He let go of me, "Inside? Why would the inside matter?"

I turned around, smacking him in the face, "Because that's the person I love! That's the person that was my best friend for seventeen years! He's gone now! Because of her! Because of some slut that doesn't even deserve you! You don't laugh anymore, you barely smile and when you do it isn't real!"

"How would you even know," he fumed, "You don't even see me anymore. You stopped seeing me months ago."

I looked away again, "I have to go," I could feel my eyes filling with tears.

He grabbed for my hand, "I am sorry that I have hurt you."

"We aren't friends anymore," I pulled my hand away, opening the door, "So you have nothing to apologize for."

I left before he could say anymore. What hurt the most was knowing that he didn't really mean it. His voice had been flat, he meant nothing. I sat outside his door for what seemed like forever. Inside I could hear him on the phone with Belladonna. I look at my palms. Down the hall I see Merci leaving hers and Henry's room. She smiles as she walks towards me.

"Hey sweetie," she greets me before looking to Remy's door, "Still fighting with Belladonna?"

I scuff, "Like always. I really need to get home."

She looks at me sadly, "I have some clothes that will fit you, it's late. Why don't you stay in the guest bedroom tonight? I can drive you home in the morning," she gives me a wink, "No one has to go to school every day of the week and tomorrow is Friday anyway, not like you'll be missing much."

I smile back at her, then place my hand on the door, "He's not the same anymore Merci."

She pulls me into her, "I know."

I can't help myself, I completely break down. I can feel her look past me. He's watching, probably was going out to see Belladonna so they could properly make up. I feel his hand touch the back of my head, then his lips. I stay there in Merci's arms. I can't look at him when I'm like this, can't stand to see him when he's about to go be with her. She let's go of me, heading for the guest bedroom. I stay still, my hands down by my sides. He grabs one with his, my back now flush against his front. He squeezes my hand.

"Please forgive me," he whispers before leaving.

Before that moment I had hope. Before that moment I thought he'd come back. Before that very moment…I had never felt heartache.