Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade or any of its characters, merchandise, TV rights, ect… (I think you get the point.) Nor do I own the song 'Beautiful' by Christina Aguilera.

Summery

ONE SHOT – Nine different girls. Nine different lives all in different places. Because no matter who you are and what you do, sooner or later we all need someone we can turn to when life gets too much.

Like all of my work this is just something that happened to float through the empty void inside my head. Like it or hate it please R and R as honest opinions are always welcomed, as are random acts of worship.

Lamb: This was just a random idea that floated into my head when I was listening to this song. I've been working on it on and off for about the last two months, just doing a bit here and bit there. Strange thing is I've always been in a mellow mood when I've been writing it.

Muse: And when aren't you mellow these day?

Dedi: That's a good question. Answer, she's always feeling down.

Lamb: Pretty much. There are bits of people in here, which they may or may not recognise as well as bits of me. And also one very large bit of me, which I think some people, will spot.

Dedi: This fic is dedicated to all the friends we've made on the way and all the friends we have yet to meet. For if there is one thing that we know, it is that friends come and go, but for the precious few you should hold on to.

Lamb: As always sorry for any bad spelling and if you feel the need to throw things at me please wait until I've hidden behind the sofa kay!?

Muse: On with the fic!

This is the book I never read,
These are the words I never said,
This is the path I'll never tread,
These are the dreams I'll dream instead,
This is the joy that's seldom spread,
These are the tears the tears we shed,
This is the fear this is the dread,

Behind Our Closed Doors

The first bars of the song filled the hot heavy air as she stared at the clock slowly ticking by the seconds until she would be out on the stage performing in front of the sell out crowd. Averting her eyes from the timepiece large honey orbs instead fixed on the girl watching her from the mirror. She was perfect; her hair vivid turquoise that gleamed and bounced with her every movement hung in a cascade of ringlets down her back and over her right shoulder. Lightly tanned skin was the colour of peach silk without a single blemish or flaw. Her body was something other girls dreamed of having, long legs, flat stomach and curves in all the right places.

Ming-Ming felt the tears prick the backs of her eyes, she should be happy she knew it. Wasn't that what everyone wanted, fame and recognition? To be known as the best? Of course it was, but perhaps you could only be the best at so much. For as long as she could remember she had been performing, making others happy while she quietly hid away somewhere deep inside her own head. She loved to, she always had. It was her power and it was ware she drew her strength from. Never did she feel more elated than when her voice rang out clear and true encouraging Venus to victory.

But it was too much now, she was tired and on the point of brake down but still they pushed her form more. Her parents, mangers and trainers all were pushing for more. If she wasn't competing in a tournament she seemed to be on yet another tour. It was easy for people looking on to just say she should stop if it was getting too much, but how could she? Every time she tried to pull back there were always people behind her pushing her forwards once more.

One crystalline tear slowly rolled it's way down her cheek, but she hurriedly brushed it away before it could ruin her carefully applied makeup. Dolls couldn't cry, not even living ones. Two different people sharing the same body, it didn't seem right that the mask she had used to protect herself from the world had now taken over her life so completely that the real her would soon be lost forever.

A head appeared around the dressing room door calling her out to the wings, in mere seconds now she would be on the stage performing for the masses that would scream with delight. She wondered if any of them knew how lonely it was standing alone in the spotlight.

(don't look at me)

Every day is so wonderful,
And suddenly, it's hard to breathe,
Now and then, I get insecure,
From all the pain, I'm so ashamed,

The sobs where silent and shook her from head to foot with such violence that if she had not been sitting on the chair before the computer desk she would have surly have fallen to the floor. She was selfish, she knew it but that was just the way she was and she knew she could never change. But then again was it so wrong to want those around you to be happy? No, not if you wanted them to be happy because you didn't want them to be hurt or upset. But yes, if you only wanted them to be happy so that their sadness didn't drag you down too.

The mouse hovered over the volume icon one elegant finger holding down the left button, pushing the song's volume high as she tried to drown out the thoughts that crashed inside her head. One side said that there was nothing wrong with wanting to be the best friend she could be, but there was the other side too, the one that said every decision she made centred around keeping herself happy. And she always wanted to be happy.

And than was part of the problem she thought, as she pushed away the scarlet bangs that clung to her tear stained face, she didn't want to be sad. She hated it, the feeling of being out of control as all the fear and uncertainty poured in, until she thought she might never smile again. And so she pushed every problem and worry to the back of her mind, not wanting to have to deal with the pain of confronting them.

Until it all got too much, until she could no longer hide everything behind the walls she had built in her head. But when it did happen and like now the dams broke and the tears came spilling forth, there was never anyone to hear the desperate cries except the lone voice drifting from the radio. It was the price she paid for always being the happy one, who lifted the moods of those around her, so when she was down she did not know whom she could confide in. Nor what she'd say if she did.

With her hands trembling Salima typed a response into the MSN message box that was flashing on her computer screen. Maybe she was a hypocrite, after all how could people know there was something wrong if she always insisted that everything was fine.

I am beautiful no matter what they say,
Words can't bring me down,
I am beautiful in every single way,
Yes, words can't bring me down,
So don't you bring me down today,

It seemed that it was a pattern of her days now. To run home and lock herself in her room, music playing on the radio in an effort to block out the cries of pain that came straight from her heart. Her breath had caught in her throat and for one golden moment it seemed that the angel saw her, but cold hard reality had come crashing down upon her as the girl had moved to the group of people standing behind her. No, the angel had not been looking at her, mealy through her.

And so she had run as she always did, run from all of them. The prefect girls with their perfect bodies and beautiful faces, people she could never hope to compare to. And form the angel, she who was perfection in its purest form and she who didn't even know the sobbing child drew breath.

She wanted to forget her, to block out the feelings that only every succeeded in bringing her pain and anguish. And it seemed that everyday she would make the resolution, the vow, that no more would she let herself be consumed be the eternal circle that always offered hope, only to leave her with her dreams smashed to bright shining shards at her feet. But never could she hold true to her decisions, and the dreaded cycle to start once again.

Gulping air Matilda crawled from the corner of her bedroom across the floor with its smooth boards and soft sheepskin rug, until she reached the dressing table and the mirror the stood upon it. She was a fool, how could she thing for one second that the angle would ever condescend to look in her direction. Her skin was pale, almost ghostly in its hue, and bright cherry red eyes were at large for her face. With her light pink hair razored pixie like round her face she looked as if she could be and albino.

More tears filled her eyes and the room swam in a salt-water haze, she was nothing. As the angel's friends had said 'nothing more than a waist of perfectly good yearbook space.' She can't help but think that they are right, and perhaps everyone would better if she was no longer around. If she was not there to hold them back, her friends, her family, and her team.

It was just lying there atop of the table, so bright, so inviting. There was such beauty in the sad, defiant voice the filled the air, if only she had that strength. With a trembling hand she picked up the knife from where it lay and moved with it back to her corner. Rolling up her sleeve she can see the criss-cross of cuts both old and new.

Placing the blade to her skin she pulls it slowly back across her forearm, watching as the little beads of blood bloom on the milk white skin. One pain to block out another and at least this one she can control.

To all your friends, you're delirious,
So consumed in all your doom,
Trying hard to fill the emptiness,
The piece is gone and the puzzle undone,
That's the way it is,

The back of her throat was raw from the retched sobs that had forced their way past her protesting lips into air made hot and heavy with her misery and the festering wound that was his betrayal. She wouldn't have cared if he hadn't of felt the same for her; it would have been enough to have his friendship even if she could never have had his love. But to be used in such a way after she had freely given her heart to him hurt more than any physical blow could have done.

She had been stupid and blind to think that he ever really cared for her, and now there was no one for her to turn. Blood was thicker than water they said, but she didn't believe it. Not now, after her own kin had conspired in her love's betrayal, reworded his deceit. She used to think there was nothing she could not confide to her cousin about, up until the moment he had turned and plunged a knife into her heart.

Days have passed and it seems that she has no more tears left to shed, yet the feeling of desolation is still as intense as it was in that first moment when she unexpectedly walk in on them entwined in each others arms. Kai and Rei. Rei and Kai. The scene plays repeatedly behind her eyes, like some monstrous movie she can not escape. Her elbows are propped on the table and she rests her head in her hands, her fingers rubbing small circles on her skull through the mass of electric pink hair. It feels as if a steel band is being pulled tight around her head, and the pain is almost unbearable as liquid fire shoots up and down her spin.

The house was empty save for herself, and even the voice on the radio did nothing to dispel the loneliness of rejection that consumed her. But it was growing now and changing too. The pain was a bright vivid slash across her heart, across her mind. But there was now a darker eliminate swirling in the depths; the say love and hate are two sides for the same coin and one can become the other with but the flick of a finger. And somewhere in the back of her mind behind burning golden orbs Mariah's love for the two men she had held closest in her heart was changing into to something cold and hard as diamond.

Never again, she swore. Through the window speckled with falling raindrops she could see the storm clouds billowing back and ominous against the sky. Could see the dark grey tinted with reds and yellows as the tempest grew. Never again would she let someone in, open her heart to another just so the could tare it from her breast. Lightning stabbed at the earth, ice white ripping through the sky, and for a split second the room was bathed in a sliver glow.

In that fleeting moment the flashing lightning painted her frozen white, and looking upon her you would have thought you eyes rested not on a vital living young woman but a statue of frosted marble. Cold, untouchable and without hope.

You are beautiful no matter what they say,
Words can't bring you down,
You are beautiful in every single way,
Yes, words can't bring you down,
Don't you bring me down today,

Rage and hatred swirled and mixed in an impudent mass in the pit of her stomach. She banged her hands on the rim of the searing wheel hoping the pain in her fingers would lessen the pain in her heart. It was so stupid, she was better than this, she knew she was. And yet her she sat again as she had so many times before parked out by the bay with the top down as music poured from the radio. As always the sea was so bright it seared spangles on her eyes, each wave composed of a treasure trove of individual gems - turquoise, topaz, and emeralds in a seething jewel box of light.

Where had her pride gone? Looking away from the dancing waves jade orbs caught sight of her face reflected in the rear-view mirror. The mass of midnight blue locks were free and were being blown gently by the sea breeze but still the livid bruise that covered her left eye and cheek was clearly visible. Raising fingers she gently brushed over the angry mark and flinched as pain seared through the hot throbbing flesh. Again the anger and then the words designed to hurt. And as always-followed one of them would lash out, and when the violent storm had passed they had gone separate ways to lick their wounds.

Mariam felt tears roll slowly down her face, she was pathetic. How could it be that she, a world class beyblader a competitor know for her strength, would allow someone to do such things to her. What was worse than the fact that he hit her was the fact that she knew sooner or later that she would go running back to him like a lovesick puppy following at its masters heals. And soon the cycle would start all over again, and he would hit her or she would hit him

She hated him for hurting her, and hated herself for letting him do so. But there was love there too, and somehow that made it worse. If he hadn't loved her or if she hadn't loved him then maybe she could have found the will to leave, if the feeling had been all on one side then she could have walked away. But it was not and she was trapped in a relationship that was slowly destroying them both.

Turning her head back to the dazzling ocean view she wondered what it would be like to be out there swimming in that clear warm water. Then to let it close over her head and have the pain and confusion fade with the last of her breath as she slipped in to blessed nothingness. A small smile touch her lips at the irony of her musings for it was true only death could really part them now.

No matter what we do,
(no matter what we do)
No matter what they say,
(no matter what they say)
When the sun is shining through,
Then the clouds won't stay,

She quietly slipped from the room at a point when she thought no one would notice her dispatcher. But onyx eyes flick to her face just as she made to step through the door, a question burning in their depths. She responded with a slight smile that was tinged with sadness and then in a flash was gone from the room leaving her twin looking at the spot where she had stood a moment before. Swiftly she made her way up the stairs, across the landing and into her bedroom. Shutting the door she let out a sigh of relief, this place was her sanctuary the one place in the whole world where she felt she could truly be herself.

Reaching out she flicked the radio on, letting the soft sound fill the room as she collapsed onto the bed and hugged a pillow tight to her chest. If she concentrated hard enough she could almost hear the voices of those talking in the living room below. She should have stayed, she reasoned as onyx orbs watched her reflection in the mirrored doors of her rooms fitted wardrobes. They were her friends too after all, but it was more than she could bare having to sit with them, in their happy relationships and be unable to reach out and touch the one person she longed to.

She couldn't cry, it wasn't in her nature to do so, but at that moment she felt on the verge of screaming at the world that life was not fair. Taboo, everything was at some point. At one point sex before marriage had been unthinkable, a fact that caused many people today to laugh. Then having a relationship with someone of the same sex, that was actually illegal, but not so anymore. Queen gave a sigh that caused her sooty bangs to whisper against her skin. She hadn't asked to fall in love with the one person it was wrong love more than platonically and she hadn't asked for him to feel the same way in return.

It was an elemental dance that had started in their mother's womb. They were not two people; they were two halves of a spinning, magnificent whole. And one could not – did not wish to – exist without the other. But how could she explain that to someone? And who was there that she could tell without them instantly judging and condemning her?

Answer; there was no one and she was alone in a prison made of her own love. A love that the rest of the world would never except.

And everywhere we go,
(everywhere we go)
The sun won't always shine,
(sun won't always shine)
But tomorrow will find a way,
All the other times,

It would be so easy to cry right now. She could feel the tears rising within her, settling in a tight painful knot in her chest. Sometimes she thought they didn't care, that maybe they didn't even see her except as a person who was just there to sort out their problems and keep the peace. She sat on her single bed, her fingers fisting the creamy comforter so tightly that her knuckles showed white, and even through the two thickness of fabric she could feel her nails pricking her palms. Short chestnut bangs fell into her face and shaded large ruby orbs shimmering with suppressed tears.

The voice from the radio seemed to be singing right into her heart and amplifying the pain the lay there. She didn't want to cry, to let them have the satisfaction of knowing they had hurt her. But how would they know anyway? It had been on fight too many and she had just turned and walked away, left them to the petty squabble over something that was unimportant. It had been over three hours ago and yet no one had come after her, there had been no calls on her phone, not even a text. Nothing, perhaps they really didn't care. 'R U OK?' It would have been enough, more than enough. Just a sign that they had noticed that she had been upset.

Hilary felt her lip wobble traitorously and angrily wiped away a tear that had managed to escape past her lashes. She was the glue that held them together, and it was she who time after time managed to reunite them whenever it seemed they were falling apart. Everything she had she had given them willingly, pouring her heart and soul into a team that it seemed neither appreciated or cared what she did.

Then there it was the shrill beep indicating a text message received, and picking up her phone in shaking hands she silently berated herself for thinking so badly of her team. Of course they cared about her, it was just hard to remember that as guys they didn't think the same way she did, that they weren't always able to tell when someone close to them was hurting. Unlocking the mobile she wondered which of them it was; Max maybe or Rei. They seemed the two most likely candidates.

Opening her inbox she looked to the name displayed at the top of the screen by the new text. Unable to help it she let the phone fall from her hands and land with a bang on the floor, as tears began to fall freely from her eyes and run in to rivers down her cheeks. On the floor the phones screen clearly showed the message; Orange Update.

We are beautiful no matter what they say,
Yes, words won't bring us down,
We are beautiful in every single way,
Yes, words can't bring us down,
Don't you bring me down today,

Wide china blue orbs stared back uncertainly from the mirror, the contacts making her eyes feel hot and itchy. This was not her, not the real her. How she had been talked in this she couldn't imagine, but the constant persistent nagging had taken its toll, until it was easier just to give in and let them have their way. Where they really her friends, she doubted it. But she was a world class blader and by associating with her they got a little closer to all the fame and bright lights.

So now here she stood, in the middle of some strangers' bedroom, hiding from the mass of people partying in the rooms below. Looking back to her reflection Emily felt physically sick, that wasn't her. It couldn't be her. The light blue micro mini skirt was hardly long enough to cover her crotch and went no higher than her hip bones. And the top was just as bad, a cut off white halter neck, at least one size too small so that her breasts where pushed up and together, in such a way that with just one wrong mover she would spill out the top.

She tuned her back on the sight, less the feelings of shame and self-hatred consume her completely, she looked like a common little slut. Not caring what anyone would think of her, she pressed the heals of her hands to heavily made up eyes and pressed until spots flashed on the backs of her lids and the contacts bit her painfully. Pulling her hands away she saw that mascara and eyeliner now covered her palms, and could imagine that there must now be black streaks across her over powdered face.

The sound of the song playing below drifted up the stairs and through the door, and a sigh slipped from her lips Sinking down onto the edge of the bed she reached up and pulled her hair free from the fastenings that held it in place. Her ginger bangs naturally fell forwards curtailing her face, and gave her some brief comfort at the familiar sensation. Never had she thought she would give into peer pressure so easily, yet here she was trying to be something she was not.

There was no one to call, no one who could come and rescue her from the mess she had landed herself in. Even her parents had been happy that she was going out and making new friends with girls her own age.

"You spend too much time either sitting in front of that computer or training with your beyblade, it's good that you're going out Em. It makes me happy." That was what her mother had said, but right now she would have given anything to be sitting in front of that computer, in her favourite baggy T-shirt and tennis skirt, far away from the people she had nothing in common with.

Don't you bring me down today,
Don't you bring me down today,

Too late! She was too late. Her fist hit the mirror; spider webs of cracks spreading from the point of impact as the glass shattered and bright splinters rained down flashing in the light. She hadn't wanted to cry, for she knew that when that first tear fell others would swiftly follow and she would surly drown in the drops that fell freely from her eyes. Tears rolled down her cheeks and even as she wiped them away more fell to take their place, until her face was streaked with salt water and blood. It was hate that bubbled within, hate at the world and all the stupid people in it. Hatred of him for leaving but most of all hatred of herself for feeling the way she did and knowing there was nothing she could do about it, for she was the one who pushed him away.

Legs trembling she sank to the floor, sitting before the rooms fitted wardrobes one now devoid of its mirrored face, ignoring the way the fragmented glass bit into her flesh. She always had to be strong and it didn't seem fair that others could express their fears and pain while she had to be the one to stand there and say it was all going to be all right. But when it was she who was scared and lost there was now no one there to offer her comfort and reassurance. In the night when she woke, there was no one to hold her tight and say that it was nothing more than a dream and that they were there to keep her from the monsters that hid under the bed.

Julia looked down at her hands blood oozing from between her fingers clenched into fists lying in her lap. It was always her, she was always the strong one. Standing her ground even as her world crashed down around her, through the pain and the sorrow it was always her that had to be there. She wanted to run, to run now out into the rain and let it was away all the feelings that made her want to scream. But she could not, she could never run, never leave. Her brother told her often enough that she was his rock, so she stayed sat among the shinning splinters of shattered mirror music floating out from the radio.

She had been stupid. Her pride and fear had blinded her to what was in her heart and now he was gone and she was alone with no one to blame but herself. Too proud to admit that she needed him and too scared to let another person touch that part of her which she had spent so long hiding from all the pain the world could throw at her. The notes drifting from the radio only served to confirm her feeling of isolation, and the tears fell thicker and faster as the realisation intensified its hold on her heart. She had pushed away the one person who had loved her without condition.

Her breath was coming in fast shallow grasps, the sensation of loss like a physical pain in her chest as she wondered how you could begin to get over the soul mate you pushed away.

Lamb: Well there it is, you might like it or you might not, and there is nothing I can really do one way or the other. Sorry I'm in a very melancholy mood right now, and there's nothing I can do about it.

Muse: If you can see yourself in anyone let us know, and if you think you can see Lamb let us know that too.

Dedi: We hope you all liked it and please let us know what you thought kay!?

Please R and R I'd love to know what you thought.

Big luv see ya

Lamanth