Author's Note: Alerts are back :-) That makes me a happy girl. I'm still toying with the idea of making A Happy New Year a two-shot, hopefully i'll get proper inspiration.I wanted to write something a little darker, a little angstier, so here it is. This one also has the potenial to have more chapters, but I don't know yet. I've always kind of liked one-shots. Anyway I hope you guys like this. (Warning-strongly implied sexual situations.)

Disclaimer: Not even close to being mine.

Casey hated them. Every girl that had ever giggled his name, every girl that had spent the night in his bedroom, every girl in Derek's long line of bimbos. She hated the way they wore clothes that made her 'babe raider' inspired outfit look tame. She hated the way they looked at him, running their eyes along his biceps and torso. She hated how they all had cutesy sounding names and tired to give Derek little pet names.

Most of all, she hated them on those late nights, when she could hear them moan his name. The sound would travel through the wall, and even if it was just a soft whimper Casey would hear echoing, resounding, and it would torture her. She would be unable to stop herself from imagining what it would be like to be that girl, in that moment. She could close her eyes, and it would be so real that for a second she'd forget that Derek wasn't really touching her, looking at her like she was beautiful; but then that second ended and Casey would come crashing down.

Sometimes in the morning, after she heard them leave, slutty heels clacking despite their attempts to sneak, she would be tempted to go into his room. She wanted to open the door slowly, and creep into his bed waking him up by kissing the top of his head. In her fantasy, he would know, the second he opened his eyes, that she wanted him, and without saying a word, they'd embrace, and shed clothes, and it would be perfect. From that point on, when ever she heard his name moaned, it would be coming from her own lips.

She never did it though. She never opened his door or kissed his head, or told him how she felt. Casey wasn't that kind of girl, and that, made her hate all those bimbos even more. For one night they got to have everything she wanted. Casey hated them.

Derek hated them. Every guy that wrote her notes, every guy that held her hand walking down the halls, every guy in Casey's line of studios, polite boyfriends. He hated their sweater vests and khaki pants. He hated the way they opened doors for her, and always called when they said they would. He hated the way they all called her, 'Case', and were home by curfew.

Most of all, he hated them on those mornings, when he'd see them in the halls, and they'd nod at their friends, and smirk, and he'd know, just know, that it had happened. In those moments, he would picture those horrible guys taking her clothes off, running their hands down her sides and legs, and it would eat him away inside. They pretended to be the nice guys, when really they wanted what all guys wanted, and Derek wanted to kill them for taking it from Casey. His Casey.

Sometimes after seeing the head nod, he'd close his eyes, lean against a wall, and think about what it would be like. He would take her, and show her what a real man could do; he would make her forget all their names. Afterwards, after their long and passionate tryst, she would look at him, and she would know that no one but her meant a thing to him, and he would hold her, and it would be prefect. After that moment, the only one touching her beautiful skin would be him.

He never did it though. He never took her, slammed her down and made everything that was between them real. Derek was afraid. Afraid of rejection, afraid of how letting her know would change his life forever and afraid that she actually did like that kind of guy. Derek hated them.

Different, I know. Hope you guys liked it. :-)