[A/N] Hello there...this is a Victorious fic that has been nagging me for ages, so here you go! Hope you enjoy!

And for readers who go to the AISS, today (01/04/11) was my last day there! I'm so sad! I will miss all u AISS people - I LOVE YOU!

Disclaimer: I do not own Victorious. If I did, Cat/André would have become a couple ages ago. Either that, ot Cat/Jade.

Happy reading:


Cat smiled to herself as she smelled the familiar pungent aroma of the sticky dye that covered her fingers. She sighed and ran her hands through her hair gently, massaging the bright colour into her scalp. The shade was slightly different than the last, but really, even Cat was slightly different than the last time she applied the dye. She was a month older.

Cat sighed as she waited for the colour to soak into her roots. Every time she did this, she couldn't help but wonder why she tormented her naturally gorgeous blonde locks like this.

And then that dark, dark memory that lay buried in the deepest recesses of her consciousness took over, plaguing her mind with unnecessary experiences and showing her what she always tried to deny, what the truth really was.

It was in moments like these that Cat was really afraid of herself, afraid that the careful image she'd constructed piece-by-piece would shatter at any moment.

This time was no different


Caterina Valentine was as plain and boring as was possible. There was nothing special about her except her name, and even that wasn't that extraordinary.

So it was the biggest surprise when she had been admitted to Hollywood Arts after her stunning performance of Ginger Fox's Number One. She'd poured her heart and soul into that performance, but it wasn't who she really was inside. She had always hidden behind those who had more courage, being gentle and sweet but having no really determining personality.

And she was okay with that.

She'd slipped into her first day easily, her blonde ringlet curls dancing around her head. She'd looked away whenever anyone tried to make eye-contact, and only give one-word responses when someone talked to her.

Soon they all realized she was just another starlet who wanted to shine, but she had no personality, and therefore, no talent. They all walked away.

And she was okay with that.

There was only one person who stayed with her despite what people were saying, one person who tried to dig deeper into the seemingly plain mystery that was Cat.

And that person was André Harris, the super talented muso who had no business hanging around the plain and boring Cat, the newbie.

But he did anyway.

Cat loved André hanging out with her. She would always try to convince herself that she was okay being lonely, but the truth was that she didn't like it at all. André knew this. Somehow, he knew everything about her.

He knew when she was upset, and would try to cheer her up. He knew when she needed comfort, and just sat by her side.

And him just being there was enough. Cat liked the way André gave her a hug when he saw her before school, and Cat liked the way André's face lit up when he looked at her. She liked the way he would run his fingers through his hair when he was thinking, and she loved, absolutely loved the way his eyes scrunched up when he smiled.

Cat liked André.

And her world seemed all cream and roses. When André was there, no one bothered her because she was, well, André's friend. The friend of the fantastically gifted artiste whom everyone loved.

Even though she wasn't really noticed, she was still not tormented by the other kids who were way out of her league.

André fit in. Not her.

And then André was sick, and her perfect world shattered into a million tiny fragments.

She was openly scorned by her peers, peers who, previously, didn't give a damn about her.

"Look at her, she's such a bimbo."

"I bet she's just with André because he felt sorry for her."

"Oh my God, I bet she can't even sing and just bribed Hollywood Arts to let her in."

The last one hurt her the most. No one had seen her audition to enter, and she was a shy little girl. The only she'd sang in front of was André. She could sing, but not in front of crowds.

André was back the next day, though, and asked if she was alright. She bit her lip and nodded, afraid that if she told André, he would leave her like the rest because she complained and was a wuss and…a million other reasons.

And having André there was like the glue that helped piece together her broken reality, and she was able to once again live blissfully unaware of the hatred that her classmates carried.

Until, one day, it just went too far.

It was the seventh day of her year without André. She had learned by now that these days were the hardest, because André was like the wall between her and the outside world – he was the only thing stopping them from attacking her.

She could stand it, she really could. Coping was hard, but she'd learned how to put blinders on that kept everyone out of her little bubble. She could block out the harsh comments by scrunching her eyes shut and daydreaming about her wall. Sure, it wasn't as good as him being there, but it was enough.

This time, however, it didn't affect just her.

She was walking past a lunch table to find her own to sit at, and she heard something she clearly wasn't meant to.

"I swear, if André stopped hanging out with that blonde bitch, I'd hang out with him."

There was only one thing Cat found extraordinary about herself – her compassion for others.

André was the one who deserved to be at Hollywood Arts, not Cat. André was the one who deserved more friends, and if Cat could do something about it, she would.

Cat jumped to the first conclusion that popped into her head.


At home, Cat rummaged through the kitchen drawers.

She was in luck, as her parents were out for a night God-knows-where, and her older brother was taking advantage of the situation by partying-'til-dawn.

Come on, she told herself. Where the hell is it?

At last, she found what she was looking for. Looking at the object, she trembled.

Did she have to do this? Should she do this? Why was she doing this?

The name formed in her brain as soon as she thought the last question. André. André deserved this much from her, as it was all she could give.

Steeling her resolve, she brought the wicked blade to the base of her neck. Then slowly, gently, she ran it across the lower front of her neck.

The blonde Caterina Valentine collapsed to the ground.

"For André," she whispered, before closing her eyes.


André sat at home, composing a new melody. He'd wanted it to be special, and that's why he'd taken a day off. He'd locked himself in his room, strumming vigorously on his guitar and playing his piano relentlessly.

He needed to find the melody that summed up his new best friend, Cat. He liked the way she bit her lip when she was nervous. He liked the way she'd always have a smile on his face to greet him.

André liked Cat, as a bit more than a best friend.

For her birthday tomorrow, André wanted everything to be perfect. He'd baked her the perfect birthday present, and now he was writing her a birthday song.

He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. He needed some sort of inspiration to fuel his song, something to give him fresh ideas.

He grinned as he thought of the best solution. He could invite Cat to his "studio". He didn't need to compose with her here, he just needed to refresh his memory of her.

Actually, he just needed to see her again.

Fingers trembling, he dialled her number. And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

André frowned. That was unusual. Usually, she'd pick up on the first ring, breathless. Something was definitely up. He shrugged it off. She has a life too, André, he reminded himself. So he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

André was getting worried by this point. He remembered that Cat had given him her address once when they had first gotten to know each other.

Making his mind up, he shrugged on a leather jacket and made his way to Cat's house.


"Cat?" said André, pushing the door open. It was awfully quiet in her house, he noted. The lights were off, and his footsteps echoed eerily on the ceramic tiles.

He shivered. It was really quite ominous in her house; that much was obvious. "Cat," he called again, trying to elicit a response which would remove his fear.

The response never came.

"Cat?" he said more frantically, hurriedly stepping through the large, oppressing house. Where were the people? Where was the bright, bubbly family he thought he'd encounter? What was going on?

"Shit," he swore, stumbling over something on the floor in the dark. Fingers fumbling along the length of the wall, he finally found the light switch.

And screamed.

"Cat!" he yelled, kneeling beside her fallen body. He put his fingers under her neck, and tried to raise her head. Her skin was like ice, but there was something hot and wet under his fingers.

He pulled them away and his eyes widened. Blood. Damnit, she'd tried to commit suicide. Why? Why the hell would she do such a thing? On the day before her birthday, too.

He fished his mobile phone out of his pocket.

"Hello, this is 911, how may we help you."

"I need an ambulance quickly."

"This is 911 ambulance service. What seems to be the problem?"

"We're at 13 Chappell Street, near Hollywood Arts High School. My friend just tried to commit suicide."

"We'll be on our way."

André flicked the phone shut and held it to his chest. It was his only lifeline.

Gently, he stroked the blonde, curly hair he loved so much. "Oh Cat," he whispered. "Why?"


The sound of a siren outside broke André out of his reverie. A knock on the door. Finally.

André leapt up to answer the door, tearing down the hallway. He slammed the door open and raced back to Cat's side.

"Please, please help her," he said frantically.

A kind-looking man with brown eyes looked at André. "We're doing all we can, sir."

The paramedics did all they could while André rocked back-and-forth frantically, unable to sit still. He prayed to God that she'd be okay.

Finally, the paramedics deemed her good to go. "She can stay here for tonight," the man notified André. "If anything further happens, don't hesitate to call while you can."

"Thank you," said André. He smiled, leaving Cat and André alone in the kitchen.

"André," breathed Cat, looking around with wide eyes. "But-but…no!"

She struggled and reached for the knife again.

André sucked in a breath and yanked the knife away. "No, Cat," he said firmly. "Please," he added gently.

Cat slumped. Now all her efforts were in vain. André would still be friendless because of her.

"Why did you do it?" pleaded André sadly. "Why, Cat?"

"Because you would have been happier if I did."

André was confused. What the hell was she talking about? "Huh?"

And so Cat unravelled the secret of the bullying she'd had to endure while André was away. André listened sadly, ashamed that he hadn't been able to do anything about it.

"Oh Cat," he said, gathering her into a hug. "If you'd told me, I could have always been at school for you."

Cat was confused. "But I thought you were sick…?"

André laughed, and Cat couldn't help but smile as the rich sound wrapped around her. "No, I take days off if I'm really immersed in composing a music piece."

Cat jumped off André's lap (when had she climbed on?). "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm going to go take a shower and wash this" – she pointed to the bloodstains in her hair (André cringed) – "out of my hair."

"You do that," said André gently.

After an hour, Cat came out of the shower. She was sobbing uncontrollably.

"Cat!" said André immediately, rushing to her side. "What's wrong?"

"I-I-I c-can't get-t the bloodst-stains out of my h-hair," she sniffed.

"It's okay," said André, his brain hatching a plan. "I've got an idea."


André ran his fingers through Cat's hair, carefully massaging the dye in. "See, you apply it like this."

Cat smiled. André had decided to go and buy her a bottle of bright red hair dye so the stains didn't show.

After the dye had set in and Cat had washed her hair again, they were both sitting in the kitchen.

"André, I still can't be your friend if I'm stopping you from having other friends," said Cat, examining her tomato-coloured hair.

André frowned. "Why? I don't care about the others. If I can't have you, then I don't want anybody else."

Cat grinned. "So why don't I change myself?" she said happily, pleased with herself.

"You know, that isn't such a bad idea," said André. As long as she was still his happy Cat on the inside, he would be okay with whoever she became.

"I'm going to be a hyper crazy person who has an unusually high voice and is still a little girl at heart!" squealed Cat excitedly, already in character.

"I like it," said André enthusiastically.

"You know, it's cute, it's fun, and no one can hate it. Oh, and, I'm also dropping the shyness. I'm gonna be super-confident!"

"Just don't lose yourself," whispered André quietly.

"I won't," she sang.

Just then, Cat's watch beeped. "Oh look, it's midnight," she said softly.

André jumped. Of course. Today was her birthday.

Cat smiled shyly. "You've been really helpful recently," she said, playing with her hair. André smiled. He looked so handsome when he smiled.

"Hey, what are friends for?" he said playfully, nudging her on the shoulder.

She giggled, and André decided that he loved the sound. Before this perfect moment could escape, he cupped her face and kissed her sweetly on the lips.

"Happy birthday, Cat," he said gently, keeping his face next to hers.

She giggled again, still blushing from what had happened. "Thank you."

"Oh, I, um, made you something," said André, reaching behind him and pulling out the box of cupcakes he'd baked for her.

"Oh, André, thank you," she said, clapping her hands. When he opened the box, she squealed excitedly. "I love red velvet cupcakes."

André grinned as she ate them all, licking icing off her slender fingers.

"André?" she asked nervously. "Does the hair look okay?"

He grinned and took her hands in his. "It looks amazing, Little Red."

She blushed at the nickname.

André decided that he now had a suitable song for Cat. He started to sing.

Her eyes, her eyes,

Make the stars look like they're not shining.

Her hair, her hair,

Falls perfectly without her trying.

She's so beautiful, and I tell her every day.

Yeah.

I know, I know,

When I compliment her, she won't believe me.

It's so, it's so,

Sad to think that she don't see what I see.

'Cause every time she asks me "do I look okay?"

I say,

When I see her face,

There's not a thing that I would change.

'Cause you're amazing,

Just the way you are.

And when you smile,

The whole world stops and stares for a while.

'Cause you're amazing,

Just the way you are.

Yeah.

He stopped and grinned, while she was blushing like crazy.

"Aw, André, that was beautiful," she complimented. "Is that why you skipped school today?"

"Yeah," he said sweetly, brushing a loose strand of hair out of her face. "For you."

"Best birthday ever," she said happily, before drifting off to sleep in the kitchen.

"Goodnight, Cat," he whispered to her sleeping form, before flicking the lights out and sleeping as well.


Cat and André walked to school together, hand-in-hand. "So, Little Red, you need an excuse for that hair of yours," said André, stopping right outside the front gate.

Cat giggled at the nickname. She was giggling a lot lately. "An excuse for the hair?"

"Yeah, something you can tell everyone. What would the new Cat say?"

She thought for a moment, before a grin spread across her face. "It's the exact same colour of red velvet cupcakes."


[A/N] Awww, right? Seriously, tell me what you think...!

Luv u people!