Right.
First off, this is the first fanfic I've written in at least a year, so my writing skills are a bit crusty. Sorry about that. If you find an error, please let me know.
Second, most if not all of the characters will act a little OOC- this is a different world and a different setting than we're used to seeing them in, after all. They may not be quite the same as the original characters in the manga, so be patient.
And third, this story is pretty much your typical girl-meets-boy high school fanfiction. If that's not your thing, then find a different story to read. Please don't leave any rude or annoying comments- I'm only human, and words can hurt. The rating may also change from T to M as the story progresses, so just be aware of that.
Songs for this chapter:
Gasoline- Halsey
Cry Baby- Melanie Martinez
The Sky Under The Sea- Pierce the Veil
*All characters and rights belong to Hiro Mashima. I own nothing.*
Levy McGarden had never been one for parties. She hated the loud music and the reek of smoke and the drunk boys groping her ass in the darkness, and although she wouldn't refuse a drink if offered, she had never quite understood the urge to get so wasted she no longer knew her own name. She had no desire to wake up naked in a strange boy's bed, unable to remember what- or who- she did last night, and she certainly did not want to spend the better part of her weekend nursing a hangover.
Yeah, parties sucked, and Levy had absolutely no idea why the hell she'd let her best friend drag her halfway across town to last night's affair.
"Never again, Lucy. Do you hear me? Never. Fucking. Again," she rasped, head resting on the tiled bathroom floor.
"I hear you," Lucy groaned, kneeling in front of the toilet. "I hate doing this every damn weekend. And I don't even have you to hold my hair and make me coffee."
Levy managed a weak smile. "I'm pretty sure I'm fine now. I drank less than you did, anyway. Do you want me to get us some Advil?"
"Yes please. And some water, too?"
"Sure thing." Levy grasped the side of the bathtub to pull herself up, and her stomach lurched. Her head swam, and she heard Lucy's worried voice from very far away, asking again and again if she was okay. I'm fine, she wanted to say, but her tongue was thick and numb and the words refused to come out. She most certainly was not fine- her stomach twisted and flopped like a wild thing and her lungs refused to pull in breath.
Good God... how much did I drink last night?
She shut her eyes and leaned back against the tub, gasping for air as her world spun around her. The nausea probably lasted no more than a minute, but each second felt like an hour to the tiny blue-haired girl. The wave of dizziness was gone as quickly as it came, leaving behind a pulsing ache radiating directly from her temples. She sighed and slid down to the floor, reaching to her throat for the blue pendant necklace she always wore.
Her fingers found only empty air and the warm skin of her collarbone. She must have misplaced it at the party- of course, there was no chance of her getting it back now.
It was going to be a long morning.
.
An hour later, both girls were sprawled across the gigantic couch in Lucy's living room, sipping from steaming cups of instant coffee and scrolling through Netflix for something halfway decent to watch.
"Shit," Levy groaned, burying her face in an overstuffed pink pillow as the sickness and driving pain made a surprise reappearance. The T.V. remote hit the expensive persian rug with a thud. "Why did I ever let you talk me into this?"
"Come on, you know you loved it. And you looked damn hot in that dress. The boys were all over you." Lucy playfully poked her arm. "I think Sting likes you." Lucy had a hopeful smile on her face, but Levy shuddered and clutched the pillow tighter.
"No, thanks. I think I'll just stay single for a while." Not that Sting wasn't sweet, but... He'd been sweet to her too, in the beginning. And look how well that had turned out.
Lucy gave her a sad, searching look. "Not all boys are like him, you know. You should try to let go. It'll make things a lot easier."
Levy didn't reply. She wanted to let go, to be free- she wanted it so badly she could taste it. She couldn't, though- he'd left scars below the surface, deep and demanding and hungry. And as much as she wanted to be able to show everyone that she was fine, that his presence in her life hadn't left a lasting mark, she knew she'd never escape his taint, no matter how far she ran. God, he still owned her, even though he was probably sitting on his ass in jail at the moment.
He was a monster, a demon. He'd burned down her world and fed her the ashes, and yet... she still felt something at the mention of his name, although she couldn't quite tell if it was arousal or fear. Yes, Jet Altman had left his mark on her, and it wasn't fading anytime soon.
She'd met him on the first day of high school- the cousin of her then-best-friend Droy, he'd been tall and beautiful like a prince out of one of her romance novels, with fiery hair and an easy smile that could bring almost any girl to her knees. Levy had been no exception, and although they became fast friends, she never thought he'd go for a girl like her. He was legend, the star of the track team and an incredible wrestler as well- second only to Droy. Levy was cute, sure, but she wasn't gorgeous like Lucy or sexy like Cana. She was awkward, always tripping or knocking things over, and she had her nose constantly buried in a book. But he'd called her beautiful in that simple, matter-of-fact way he had, like he was commenting on the weather.
The sun is shining and Levy is beautiful. She'd never felt that wanted, that whole, before.
So of course it was no surprise when she fell head over heels for him. For the first time in years, she'd been truly happy- but like all good things, that happiness couldn't last.
As the months went by, he changed- he no longer called her beautiful, and criticized her every move. She quit her art classes and her book club to make him happy, but he was never satisfied. His hands left bruises that bloomed purple-blue on her arms, and she'd taken to wearing long sleeves in order to hide them. She let him have his way with her body, but he was rough and violent and left her bleeding and broken more often than not.
And finally, when Lucy found her beaten and bloodied behind the gymnasium after she'd tried to tell him they were through, he was taken to court and then to jail. And that was the end of that. She'd lost not only her boyfriend but her best friend, too- Droy had called her a liar and a whore and blamed her for his favorite cousin's arrest, and made sure everyone knew it.
As a result she'd spent weeks on end curled on the couch watching whatever was on T.V., or more often locked away in her room with Lucy or Carla, the housekeeper, hovering worriedly outside the door, begging Levy to come out and talk. Carla had even convinced Levy's mother, a high-end fashion designer, to fly back from France or Spain or wherever the hell she'd been in a last-ditch attempt to bring Levy out of her self-imposed exile, but she'd only hired a psychiatrist and was off again on her 'work trips'.
Because of him, Levy could never again trust a beautiful boy. She never wanted to feel that helpless, that alone, again.
Levy saw Lucy giving her a pained look out of the corner of her eye, and she pulled herself up into a sitting position and gave her friend a reassuring smile. "Maybe in ten years when I'm living with sixty billion cats and spending all my money on books, you'll get to say 'I told you so'."
Lucy wrinkled her nose. "Please don't get sixty billion cats. I'm allergic, and that would seriously fuck up my plans to move in with you after my dad kicks me out of the house once and for all."
Levy threw back her head and laughed, and saw the sadness fade from her friend's eyes. Everything was fine- for now. But Lucy could never truly understand just how scared Levy was of giving her heart away to anyone. More and more, she was starting to feel strange and empty, a silent ghost trailing behind the living. Unloved, unlovable. Always on the outside. And she was fine with that- or at least, that's what she told herself. But deep, deep down, Levy was achingly, miserably lonely.
She only wanted to feel again.
.
It was dusk by the time Levy unlocked the door of her mother's penthouse apartment and started a hot bath, adding a generous amount of bubbles and sighing in relief as the silky water soothed her aching muscles. She leaned over to grab a book from the basket by the tub and opened to a page at random. Several minutes later, she was blushing at a particularly juicy love scene and wondering how the exactly this particular novel had escaped Carla's watchful eye when she heard a sharp rap on the door.
"Don't come in! I'm in the bath!" she warned, sinking down below the surface so that only her eyes and nose remained in sight. The door opened anyway, and Carla swooped in, clutching an envelope. Levy sat up straighter and closed her book, giving Carla nervous smile.
"Where were you all day?" Carla scolded, hands on her hips. "I swear, you're always either holed up in your room or out at all hours of the night with your friends. I never see you anymore. Your mother would have a fit if she knew you were running wild like this."
Actually, Levy was fairly sure that her mother couldn't give less of a fuck about what she did with her free time, but she wasn't about to tell that to the strict housekeeper, who refused to tolerate any kind of back talk.
"This was delivered for you this morning," she continued, waving the envelope in Levy's direction. "And how many times do I have to tell you not to read in the bath? Really, Levy. You'll ruin all your books."
"Sorry, Carla," she squeaked, quickly replacing the book and sliding down under the water again.
"Dinner will be ready in exactly fifteen minutes. Try not to get the floor wet once you get out." And with that, she strode out of the room, leaving the mysterious envelope on the side of the sink.
Levy quickly climbed out of the tub, dried off, and slipped her t shirt over her head, wrapping her hair in the towel. She snatched the envelope off the sink and made a dash for her room. It was strangely heavy, and bore the words "for Levy" in an unfamiliar hand.
She ripped it open, shook the contents onto the bed, and sucked in a surprised breath. Out tumbled her favorite necklace, along with a folded note. She gratefully clipped the pendant around her neck, taking comfort in its familiar weight, and slowly unfolded the note. It was written in the same rough hand as the front of the envelope, and read only:
I think you forgot this.
-G.R.
She flipped it over, but there was nothing more, nothing to indicate the identity of this G.R. or, more importantly, how they knew where she lived. They had to have been a guest of the past night's festivities, but really, they could be anyone. Hell, they could easily be one of his friends, and just the thought made her entire being ache with fear.
The walls seemed to press in around her, and she clutched at the fabric of her bedsheets in order to keep her hands from shaking. She heard Carla calling her name from a distance, but it didn't quite register. Terror whispered in her ear and grasped at her chest, stiffening her spine and making her want to cry out.
But she couldn't open her mouth to speak- her jaw seemed to have been glued shut. She couldn't do anything but sit still, holding onto the sheets for dear life and wishing with every trembling breath that she'd never even left the house.
So yeah- I needed to set the stage a little for what's coming in the next couple chapters. My updating schedule for this may be a bit sketchy since it's the start of the school year, but you guys can hopefully expect a second chapter sometime soon.
Thanks for reading!
-northernrainstorm