This is the first part of a three part one shot (yes, I know that doesn't make any sense). I was simply writing this as an exercise, and finished it in an hour, but it works better f I divide it up into three mini chapters. The next chapter will be delivered tomorrow, I promise. This is my first romy, I want flames and very aggressive critiques. This way, when I decide to write any serious romy (read: if I ever get up the nerve) into one of my real fics it will be good romy.

Disclaimer:

I don't own Evo

I don't own nada

This is my disclaimer

Have a piña colada

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Yes, I know that my poetry leaves much to be desired.

Greener Grass

Everyone always is worried about me. I personally don't understand why. It's like they thing that I'll start cutting myself, or become anorexic, or commit suicide, or what ever their favorite torture of the week is.

Honestly, I walk down the hall in my own house, and they will all stare at me, as if I was breaking into a million pieces before their eyes. As far as I know, all I'm doing is reading a book. Sure, it's about the end of the world, but I have to say that when one of the protagonists is an angel who did not some much fall as wander in a vaguely downwards direction, and the horsemen of the Apocalypse ride motorcycles, things aren't nearly depressing as they seem.

I walk past them, studiously ignoring their stares, their pathetic attempts to make me laugh. They haven't figured out that I'm not really interested, that the nicest thing that they could all do is shut up and go off to the mall or somewhere and leave me in peace.

I duck into my room, shut the door quietly, and wait for it to happen. In three seconds exactly babble breaks out in the hall. It's just one decibel too loud, the laughter is just a hair too hearty.

I lean against the door and smile secretively. Now that no one is watching, I can be myself. Myself feels like curling up on my bed thank you very much. Myself may listen for a moment at the wild theories that are formulating outside my door. Myself will laugh quietly, or frown at their newest hypothesis.

Maybe I'll play a little game, guessing at which theory came from which mouth.

Let me see, ahh, yes, the one about how betrayed I feel. That would have to be Kurt. I love Kurt, he's such a nice and funny guy. Slightly out of touch, but then they all are, carefully wrapping themselves in the illusions that hold their worlds up. Mastermind could take lessons.

This next one is that my unfortunate connections with the Brotherhood are at fault. That one has Scott's private bigotry stamped all over it. Everyone deserves a fair chance as long as they are one of Us. All people are equal, just that the X-Men are more equal than others. I loved Animal Farm when I was younger. Satire has always been my thing.

A voice of 'reason' comes floating perfectly down the hall corridor. I smile and shake my head at the pure hypocrisy that comes pouring out, taking up valuable air. Jean's theory of life is that I am on the verge of mental collapse, and that 'we can all pitch in and save her by looking out for her interests until she is back on firm ground'. Jean would be such a good propagandist.

I almost feel touched by this, almost. I can't help but think that their energies could be much better spent looking for people with actual problems and helping them, rather than create imagined crises, and inflict them upon me.

Like that silent Russian that works for Magneto, he obviously has problems, and they don't bother to do anything to help. In fact, probably all of Magneto's men could use our help, bar Sabertooth and the Cajun. But Gambit's able to take care of himself, making him a special case, and Sabertooth's a basket case.

And, there's always the Brotherhood. Wanda really needs the Prof's help, and I know from experience that Pietro's not Mr. Happy by a long shot. What about Fred? We could have accepted him, given him a little kindness. Instead we let Jean toy with his emotions, and then blast him through a roof. Todd's in the same boat with the lot of them. He's a pretty sweet guy, once you get past the smell, but no one here has bothered. Of course, there's always Lance. He's the one who showed me exactly how awful we really are, even to our own. He gave us a fair chance, why couldn't we do the same?

I shouldn't really talk. I'm the one who pushed Mystique off a cliff. Too bad I didn't kill her. Maybe that's what scares me the most, I was glad that I had done it.

But, all of those kids out in the hallway don't seem to get it. I'm not falling a part at the seams. I couldn't be happier, in fact. Here I have a family.

I'm not talking about the huge extended family of the X-Men. I mean the quiet father-daughter thing between me and Logan, Kurt my cheery brother, and the way that I always know that I can go to Ororo after having a nightmare.

Everyone thinks that my mutation is a curse to me. I can't touch, so obviously I can't have any fun. In a way that could be true, but not being able to touch frees me beyond belief.

I know what people really think about me, and I don't have to pretend to be someone else for the benefit of the male population. My friends are real, and that's all that I really care about. Sometimes I feel a little jealous of Jean, but at least I don't always have to be perfect every time Scott walks around the corner.

This sounds mushy, but it is true. I enjoy having people show their true faces to me. I know everyone's fears and hopes in the Institute. I can act like a bitch if I feel like it, and nothing will change because they know that it's a part of me. So, yeah, there's a glass wall around me, but the grass is much greener on my side.

It can be a bit lonely sometimes, I guess. I like to help people. I can't ever be attached to anyone, so I want to help everyone, maybe it's displacement activity. Lately I have found that it can also be highly annoying. If you meet the wrong person.

Honestly, I want to help Gambit, I really do. But he doesn't show who he really is to anyone, not even the girl who can't emotionally hurt him. There's no way that either of us can get attached to each other, I could never be a point of weakness for him, but he won't open up. I wouldn't mind that, but he goes out of his way to run into me. Whether or not this is intentional, it is really beginning to get under my skin.

I've never wanted to reach out to someone this much before. Maybe I'm falling for romantic ideals, or something cheesy like that. Gambit's just too mysterious, too alone. It can't be healthy to be that alone.

Look who's talking. The Queen of Ice and Darkness herself. The irony in this, I manage to wall myself off from the world, and I try to help people without really caring, and I think that it isn't healthy to be alone.

The rain batters on my windows, and I turn on my lamp to continue reading as the voices wander of down the corridor. I have gotten to the part where Aziraphale's zooming around the world in astral form and Crowley is about to be killed by Hastur. Somehow I just know that I won't be able to reach the good part because I'm going to be worrying about that damn Cajun.

Please tell me what you think, I am giving out free kudos if you push that little review button.