Disclaimer: I do not own Victorious. Good thing too. This has more angst than a bad Soap Opera.

A/N: I've been working on this for a while. It most likely will not be fun to read.


The ambulance pulls away and you kiss in the smoke from the exhaust pipe. The moon is a perfect crescent above you, reminding you of the Dreamworks logo.

Slowly, almost painfully, you pull away from Beck's glorious lips. You hadn't realized you would miss him so much.

"You love me again," you breath in awe.

"Who says I stopped?" he whispers, gazing passionately into your eyes.

You are so lost in his essence, in Beck. You can't believe now how you could ever want to be apart from him. That you could ever let that insignifigant socialite, Alyssa Vaughn, get between your undeniable love. OK, so she didn't actually get between you. Mentally, you admit that you're a jealous, overbearing, horrible person sometimes. Especially when it involves Beck. He's your Beck. You love him. You're his and, clearly, he loves you too.

That was then. Now, you watch in agony as he makes out with yet another replacement girlfriend. Your lungs are beaten with a branding iron with every breath you take because this isn't just some girl. It's your best friend.

Cat giggles as their lips break away from each other, her cherry-colored hair shimmering in the fluorescent lights. The hallway—which to you had seemed silent while, in reality, had been bustling with students who took no notice of the drawn-out kiss—comes back into focus.

This has happened before. Beck has spent, at most, a few weeks with another girl before coming back to you. Then, he'll leave you again, the flames of emotional suffering that he had doused numerous times reigniting.

It's almost as if he enjoys it. Torturing you. Even when you're together for longer spells of time he isn't with you. He's unfaithful. Any warm female body will satisfy him. He likes them ignorant. You are not. That doesn't make a difference to you. You're in love with him anyway. Every fight. Every break up. Every lie. He's yours and you want him. Alyssa Vaughn didn't even get close to coming between you. You know that now. You understand now the true pain that comes with real betrayal.

Beck wasn't always this way. He was once the Prince Charming you still think you see. What changed him? You'll never be sure. Secretly, deep down inside, you blame Tori.

You hated her the minute you saw her. All lost-looking eyes and preppy innocence as she performed in the showcase, Tori drew Beck's attention like a magnet. Her acceptance to the school angered you further as you knew nothing good would come from it. At least not in terms of you and Beck.

You remember the fury growing in you. Its flames spreading as it ate up the oxygen your eyes fed it. The oxygen that carried the sight of Beck and Tori kissing. That was the instant your world fell apart. The instant Beck set your heart on fire, caring little about whatever would remain.

Beck decided he liked the taste of forbidden fruit. He likes the taste of other girls' lips as he kisses them behind your back. It doesn't matter though. How careful they are. You know. You know, but you still love him. Since the day you met him you were sure. Until now.

You are thirteen years old. It is cool and overcast as you sit crying, head in your hands, on a park swing. Your dog got hit by a car. She died. No one is there to comfort you. You have no friends. Who would want to be friends with the freaky and disturbed goth girl?

Suddenly, someone speaks to you. A boy. His voice cracks awkwardly with puberty as he asks you what's wrong.

"My dog got hit by a car," you whimper, afraid to look up because you're aware of the make-up smudged around your eyes.

He puts a hand on your shoulder, brushing away strands of your light brown hair that had fallen onto your face with his other.

"I'm sorry," he says sympathetically. "I know how you feel. My dog got caught in a fox trap when I was seven. By the time my dad found her she was already gone."

"That's awful," you say, turning around and looking up despite yourself. He's an attractive boy. Lanky and tall with hair that's slightly too long. In that moment where your eyes meet—his, brown, glowing, and soulful, and yours, blue-green and rimmed with smears of make-up—is the moment you fall in love.

At that instant four years ago you began to feel happy. There was someone on your side. Someone who cared. He didn't just walk past like everyone else. Beck became your everything and you became his.

You are pulled back to the present by someone calling your name. It's Beck. You ignore him, pretending to be absorbed in the list of plays on the bulletin board by the door. The after-lunch crowds swell around you. A bell rings to signal five minutes before seventh period. Beck keeps coming.

When he reaches you, Beck puts his hand on your shoulder. Just like the day you met. Your heart aches with longing as you whirl around to glare up at him.

"I was wondering if you wanted to meet me later. We could have dinner or something," he says calmly.

There it is. Betrayal. Cruelty. New flames ignite within you. His relaxed expression blows out the match that lit them. He is going out with your best friend. A sweet, innocent, spacey girl. He is her boyfriend and he just asked you out on a date. "No!" you surprise yourself by shouting. "You've done this to me. To a lot of girls, but Cat is my best friend. She's practically helpless. She'll believe anything you tell her. I won't let you hurt her. That's not fair."

He laughs arrogantly. "Since when did you become a good girl?"

"I've never been a slut, Beck," you return icily. "Since when did you become a womanizer?"

"You know I love you no matter what," he says quickly. The fakeness in his voice reminds you of a husband on a sitcom caught cheating on his wife. You know the words are full of lies. Of false promises.

"What difference does it make?" you mumble.

"It makes a huge difference!" he shouts.

You turn and storm away then, not wanting to hear anymore. The hurt ripples through you like waves of acid being dumped on your skin. How could that monster be the boy from the park? The boy you fell in love with. Where's the beautiful soul that stuck by your side?

Why do you bother searching for that soul? You could easily find someone else. Someone better. Someone who will care for you the way you care for him. You'd be happy with another guy. You'd never have to worry about him cheating or leaving like Beck. You'd never have to watch as he kissed your best friend. You'd never have to think about Beck again.

You know that'll never happen, though. Even if a guy that perfect existed, even if there was a soul on God's earth that could make you forget about Beck, you'd never find him. Even if you did, would he want you? Would he want to deal with your anger, jealousy, and eccentricities? If it's meant to be, he would. Beck used to. You thought the two of you were meant to be.

You find yourself in the janitor's closet. Back against the wall, you slide down to the floor. You don't stop the tears when they come.

It's after school when Beck finds you. You've blown off the last three periods of class.

"Jade?" he whispers softly as he opens the door.

You look up at him miserably, aware of the make-up once again smeared under your eyes. You decide it doesn't make a difference. This isn't the first time he's found you crying. You know also it won't be the last.

"Come on," he says tenderly. "You shouldn't be alone right now."

This is the boy you knew. This boy has a heart. This boy cares. He's still on your side.

Shaking all over, you nod and allow yourself to be pulled up from the floor.

It's bizarre how you allow yourself to be sucked back in. You know deep down that he's playing you even then. He's a drug and you're a junkie. You don't care about the risk. You don't care that each batch is unreliable. No matter how horrible you feel between highs, no matter how painfully desperate you've become for each fix, he's hooked you, tight and fast, and you can't bear to stop.

Beck drives you to his house. It's empty when you arrive. Clearly, he'd planned on that. The home is familiar to you now. You walk right in and sit on the couch. Beck gives you space. He knows you too well by now. You're afraid to find out how many other girls he's "gotten to know".

Somehow, you end up in his RV, kissing furiously. Seeing what he's about to do, you pull away to protest. He silences you with another kiss before working your shirt up over your head.

It's over soon enough. Being honest with yourself, you admit it wasn't awful. Not that it felt good, either. It's different, though. When you were together, committed and eager anything had been wonderful. Even the first time.

The first time had been slow and clumsy. It was the beginning for both of you and, being in only tenth grade, neither of you were prepared. You remember the pain. The uncomfortable movements. The blood. With practice however, you improved together. In horror, you realize Beck's had a lot more practice since.

Beck's phone rings. Sitting up awkwardly, he reaches for it on the bedside table.

"Hey, baby," he says, animated, the heat of before gone completely. It's Cat.

Cat.

You've just made Beck cheat on his girlfriend. His girlfriend, Cat. Your best friend.

Beck has cheated on a lot of girls, you included, but never has he cheated with you. Never has his disgusting fallacy hurt one of your friends. This time, he's done both, killing two birds with one stone. The concept makes you feel awful. Dirty. You're just as bad as he is.

You have to think of it as an act. You're just playing a character. The villain's accomplice. Equally despicable. Equally skilled at concealing your deeds.

No. That's not a character. That's you. Except, you don't think you will be able to conceal your deeds.

That's the character you should play. Someone who hasn't done anything. Someone who doesn't have any deeds to conceal. Your test comes as Cat walks up to you in the hallway.

You chatter amicably with her as you dig a few pairs of scissors out of your locker. So far, so good. Suddenly, the redhead giggles and you look up, irritated by the cheeriness. And curious. Cat laughs at some strange things.

"Hey beautiful," you hear Beck coo as he plants a kiss on her scalp.

"Hi!" she chirps.

"I missed you," Beck whispers in her ear. "I'm sorry I didn't call last night. I was studying for the calculus test.

That's his excuse this time. Cat is so thick and gullible, he doesn't really need to be too creative. He's a despicable person though, leading Cat on like she's got a bridle clenched between her teeth. You watch as he pulls her into a kiss and before you know it, they're latched on to each other, practically clinging for dear life. It's not romantic. It's disgusting. Beck's clinging to her, but not out of love. He's ruining her. Playing her like a flute. Taking from her. A leech.

You picture her and Beck tonight in his RV, locked together even tighter, a tangle of limbs, kisses, and sighs. It's hideous. Ugly. Wrong. But It's all he wants. And Beck Oliver always gets what he wants.

Cat will say "yes." Regardless of how she feels, Beck doesn't take "no" for an answer.

You walk away, horrified. You can't do this. You have to tell her. In class later. It will break her heart, but the alternative breaks yours. She has to hear it from you before she finds out for herself.

But what if she doesn't believe it? What if she does believe it, and then never wants to speak to you again? What if, even if she does want to speak to you afterwards, will never be able to fully trust you again? What if you ruin her trust in men?

It's worth the risk if it protects her. She's your best friend. You can't let her get hurt. You'll tell her in Sikowitz's class next period.

Beck catches up with you outside the door.

"Hey baby," his breath tickles your ear as he leans in from behind you to plant a kiss on your neck.

You look away, still sick inside inside, the massiveness of what you're about to do worsening the feeling as it blends with the guilt stewing in the pit of your gut. Still, as you turn, you notice his eyes dart around nervously. You search too, eyes seeking the shock of red signaling Cat's approach. Nothing. For now.

"Not here," you manage to whisper seductively, praying he doesn't catch on to how wrong you feel. "We need to be careful."

"Sorry," he sighs, hands remaining on your hips. "You're irresistible."

He locks you in another kiss just as Cat turns the corner. You hear her squeak in surprise as Beck practically throws you on the ground in a ridiculous attempt to cover up what she must have seen. It's too late.

"Uh..." you flounder.

Cat gestures to you and Beck, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"Cat...I," you halt abruptly, sighing hopelessly as she runs away, choked sobs already jerking from her throat.

How much more can Cat take? You've just done to her what Tori once did. You've reached Vega's level. No. You dropped WAY below her. Tori only kissed Daniel. You slept with Beck. Not that Cat has even found out yet.

Of all the stupid things Tori has done and said to Cat, kissing her boyfriend was the worst. After all the mistakes Tori's made, you topped them all and Cat doesn't even know it yet. As far as she knows, you were only kissing. And just like with Tori and Daniel, she caught you.

Beck's a monster. He tore apart an innocent girl that trusted him whole-heartedly. An innocent girl who'd never dream of her boyfriend having ulterior motives. Who probably doesn't even know what an orgasm is, let alone how to make a boy have one. You don't deserve someone so innocent as your friend. You don't deserve to be able to speak to her. You should never even look her in the eye.

You're a monster too.


A/N: This was not fun to write. Remember, I do ship Bade. But, I'm not one of those people who refuse to write for any other pairing. This really wasn't any pairing. It wasn't even Bat.

I'm sorry if you happen to ship Bade or Bat and this upset you. I'm sorry if it didn't make you feel anything. I'm sorry I keep apologizing. Leave a review and tell me to stop. Tell me if it DID indeed make you feel something.