Weiss stood out on her balcony, solely for the purpose of embracing the sharp chill of the air. Her hair whipped around in the wind, brushing the sides of her face in an attempt to flee from its ponytail. She appreciated this oddly chilly day placed in the beginning of the month of September. The silence of the balcony was something she had been needing lately. With school starting again tomorrow, her father had constantly been on her back about taking advantage of her time at Beacon and becoming the best of the best. He wanted her to be the heiress that Winter could never be.

But Winter would be ten times the heiress I could be, Weiss thought angrily. If only it weren't because of her-

"Weiss Schnee, get your ass in here!" Her father boomed. She jumped; he was angry. She could dream of being any other place than where he was calling her. Going indoors right now seemed like a waste of her life, like a bad idea. She shuffled her feet and squared her shoulders before slowly reaching her pale white fingertips down on the cold metal handles of the glass doors and thrusted them open effortlessly. The wind whipped behind her, sending icy air into the house, forcing her long blue dress to wave wildly and her hair to dance in the breeze. The curtains flailed around and her father's face grew more red, "Close the door!"

Weiss obeyed and shut them carefully, one at a time and ran her fingers over the satiny blue curtains on the doors to fix them. "Daddy?" She asked innocently, puckering her lips to add to the effect. She almost let out a smirk as she saw him huff, opening his mouth to scold her and then closing it again. She stepped forwards two more times, the cool temperature of the floor bursting across her feet.

"Weiss." Someone sounded from the doorway. Obviously it was not her father, as she stared right at him. Her head whipped around because it sounded so familiar. A short girl, one that made Weiss think of red, looked at her desperately, "Tell him." Her eyes seemed to beg, please! Weiss couldn't help but to look down at her toes, which were painted a lovely purple.

Her father looked down at Weiss condescendingly, "Who is this?"

Weiss shuffled her feet like she had done outside as well and shrugged, "I dunno." The words burned her throat like she had just downed a shot of rum. The shame burned her cheeks red. She hated that she was a coward, that she couldn't hang on to her decisions and see them through. But fear of disapproval racked her entire body and she pressed her hands at her sides to stop her fingers from trembling.

Her father advanced on the girl, who Weiss still felt the taste of her lips, attacking her with his words. All Weiss saw was blurriness and heard static.

Where did she know this girl?

Of course she knew this girl, they were 'friends.' They played 'the game' together. She heard a voice, which could be loud enough for a million people screaming at her, "Am I just a game to you, Weiss?" The voice was not angry, it was sad. Weiss spun around in confusion, looking for a speaker, ears ringing.

The emotions she was feeling burned her chest. This is how she felt for this mysterious girl in her home. So this girl wasn't a part of the game? No, Weiss had never felt the same with someone else from the game. This time it was something real.

Her body fell into a pit of nothing but the color red, and she was left to bathe in the memory of her mystery lover.

She burst awake, digging her white fingernails into the snowy color of the fluffy duvet. An end to my games? She thought, Impossible. As long as her father never really found out, her innocent games of playing bad girl could go on for as long as she pleased. And by bad she meant, well, not straight.

Of course it never meant anything to her, playing with other people's hearts had always been a hobby of hers. It was probably her mommy issues that caused that. Besides, none of her girls had ever been allowed to kiss her anyways. Weiss always held the authority. So that totally meant she wasn't gay, right?

She sat up and shoved the covers off of her thin, porcelain body. She stood and frowned at the warmth of her tile, today was going to be warm. She padded over to the grand bathroom connected to her large bedroom, running the water of the exquisite bathtub. It would take quite a while for it to fill. Today was her first day at Beacon, an exclusive school that she had only gotten into because of her status. She was average at best with her fighting skills and knew that Winter would have made a much better heiress, it was just that she had-

"Miss Weiss?" A busty young woman stood at her doorway. She was dressed in a maid's outfit, long hair tucked into a large blonde bun. Weiss turned to acknowledge her presence. She truly was gorgeous and Weiss had considered her to be a part of her game once, but knew that there was a probable chance she would go back to her master, Weiss's very own father. Besides, she and the maid used to play together when they were little and it would be awkward to tug at the younger female's heartstrings.

"Yes, Adaline?" The heiress pressed. Without speaking another word, Adaline took five steps and placed a fluffy white robe in Weiss's arms. It was warm. Adaline backed out of the door without turning away and bowed her head, shutting the door behind her. Weiss squeezed the robe tight against her chest. She walked into the bathroom once again and placed the robe down on the sink counter and stripped herself of her nightgown, fleecy and white. She stared at her bare body in the mirror and let her hair down from the spiky hairpiece she always wore. The hair spilled down, evenly distributing itself on her bare breasts, which were quite large for someone of smaller build. She ran a singular finger down her cleavage, shivering at the touch. She put both hands on her ribcage and ran them down her stomach slowly, stopping at her hips. She caught another look at herself in the mirror and dug her nails in deep.

Pain.

It surprised her and she put her hands back where she impaled herself. She swiped the blood from her hips. It dribbled around on her fingers and she wiped them on the robe, which stained a gorgeous red.

She inhaled a sharp breath when she noticed the red. She thought of her dream and the haunting beauty of the seemingly faceless girl. How could she not remember the face of someone she felt so strongly for?

She had been staring at this red for too long and it started to brown and become ugly in Weiss's eyes. She picked up her right hand and winded it up slowly. It all happened in a split second. Her fist slammed into the mirror, which shattered into little pieces.

The smell of salt surrounded all her senses and all she saw was the red pouring from her hand, on the floor. She felt dizzy. She saw the blood growing lighter. Why was it getting lighter? Her toes sloshed in a liquid and the sound of the bath pouring out steamy water faded back to her.

The bath was overflowing. She stumbled to it and turned it off, feet damp with the water that dared to spill over the lips of the tub. She submerged her right hand into that water and it tinted a light red. She drained it, watching every bit of it slip into the drain, embracing the steam fleeing the room, making the goosebumps on all parts of her naked body stand on edge.

She reached into the cabinet and bandaged her bloody hand and carefully stepped over the mirror shards. She put her hair up once again using the mirror by her bed and as she put her silver headpiece in, she couldn't help but wonder, What is this girl doing to me?