Soul Eater Evans was never one to linger long on his flaws or insecurities. He was a 'live in the moment' kinda guy, and you can't really live in the moment when you're constantly nitpicking your own personality. That being said, he was never really one to talk himself up either. Sure, he told himself that he was a cool guy, but that was mostly to make it easier to take on the persona of a cool guy, instead of the self-loathing and emotionally unstable kid he used to be. Growing up under the circumstances that he did does things to your head, so it wasn't as if these feelings came out of nowhere, but Soul preferred to leave the subject of his childhood untouched.

Cool guys don't let some bummer vibes get the better of them anyways. Besides, if he let all of his insecurities get to him, how would he be able to help Maka with hers? How was he meant to pull his meister up while he dragged himself down? He had to be strong, if not for himself, than for her. It was the least he could do for her, after everything they'd gone through together.

Letting his gaze fall on the picture of him and his meister sitting framed on his desk, he couldn't help but wonder how someone like her could ever have any kind of insecurity. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't surprised to find out that even someone like her could have doubts about themselves, someone who came off as such a strong and confident being. Of course, she was strong, and while she knew that she was capable of many amazing things, she also tended to stew on her inabilities. She would mope about the fact that she wasn't strong like Black*star, or artfully skilled like Kid. Though she would get over these things quickly, setting new goals for herself rather than driving herself further into a rut.

He silently mourned the fact that he lacked such a skill for himself. Instead of setting reasonable goals for himself and patting himself on the back for achieving each goal, then setting up a new, more difficult one, he would take on whatever life threw at him headfirst and beat himself up at any and every failure he came across. He was merciless toward himself and drove exactly what he did wrong into his head a thousand times over so he wouldn't make such a mistake again, a habit he'd had since childhood. 'Winners don't make mistakes', his father had always told him this. The qualities of a winner were simple;

1. Never give up

2. Never give in

3. Don't let the competition intimidate you

4. Don't practice until you get it right, practice until you can't get it wrong

5. Win

While growing up in an extremely competitive household- a 'dog eats dog world', if you will -had damaged both his sense of self worth and confidence, it had also taught him many valuable life lessons. Things don't always turn out the way you want them to, life's a bitch and it was better to learn that while he was still young, so he didn't gain any unrealistic expectations about the world. You needed to fight for what you wanted; even after you had achieved it, because if you didn't show that you were willing to put up a fight then people would walk all over you. They would take what you had and then some, because people are selfish and cheap, and it's easier to take something someone else had earned rather than earn it yourself.

His father was harsh, but that helped him grow to be the person he was today. Soul had thick skin and was not easily stirred by others, he kept a cool head. While most people saw him to be lazy (which admittedly, he could be a large percentage of the time), he was a rather hard worker when he saw something he found to be worth the work. Even though he preferred to work smart instead of hard, if it came to it and he needed to work for something, he would do it without complaint. He was clever and logic-driven, and that was something people gave him little credit for.

Though his logical side wasn't doing him much good at the moment, as he'd been staring at the stark white envelope in his hand for at least 15 minutes and still had no idea why the sender had suddenly decided to contact him after nearly six years of complete silence. Of course, he probably would know, if he would just open the damn envelope. Shakily, he turned it in his hands, re-reading the neat script writing in the top left corner for the umpteenth time.

Wes Evans.

To say that Soul was baffled by the sudden appearance of the letter would be an understatement. He set it down and picked it up again a dozen times, he'd been pacing his room for as long as he'd had the letter, thinking and pondering what could possibly be inside instead of actually reading it.

Though he didn't want to admit it, he was scared of what could be inside.

The sound of the front door opening startled him, badly enough to drop the letter from his already trembling hands.

"Soul! Are you still home? I got the stuff for dinner!"

Gulping, he quickly kicked the envelope under his bed, watching it slide across the tiled floor easily before engulfing itself in the darkness.

"I'm here! I'm coming!" He called, throwing his bedroom door open and walking to the kitchen, the mysterious envelope anything but forgotten.

[A/N] Golly, it's been forever! So I've finally been able to work o re-writing this awful story, I hope the new version does you guys justice! I was originally planning on writing out the entire series and then uploading each chapter on a schedule, but I've decided against it and will just upload them real time. I really hope you all enjoyed the first chapter and continue to follow along on this new and improved journey! Thank you so much for reading, comment if you can (they mean the world!) and I'll see you all next time! - Sarah