NOTE: I do not own Kick-Ass, Kick-Ass 2, or any of the characters other than those you're unfamiliar with, nor am I attempted to claim them as my own creations. I noticed there was a lack of Chris stories, and I really want to explore this side of his character. Tell me what you think! (:

Entry number..I don't even know.

Being a freshman in college is nothing like people made it seem. There weren't piles and piles of term papers and online homework assignments, proffessors who droned on and on, or the lack of drive to get up and moving. Instead, the desire to learn, to be better.

I came from a family of mobsters. Living in New York, with all of the Kick-Ass business, that didn't seem like such a big deal. At least, until the death of Frank D'amico, and along the death of the great mob boss himself, the death of my father, and two of my brothers.

Now, it's easy to see why I'd never want to follow in the footsteps of the men of my family. Men tended to die. As for me, I'd become someone else. I'd always have ties, of course. Once you're born into the company of mobsters and gangsters, it's a shock if you ever truly get to leave, but with me it'll be different. I'll become something that my family before me never was: someone who actually kept other human beings alive, rather than mercilessly killing them.

I imagine it sounds like I'm making false promises to myself, and maybe that's true. No matter, I'm an adult now, and it's time to grow up.

-Lucy Merrlo

"Lucy! Get your bony ass over here!" With a groan and a roll of her dark eyes, Lucy tossed the bag of trash into the alley dumpster and jogged back into the diner. She'd been working at Ollie's for no less than three months, and was already the go-to when anyone needed to use her as an errand girl. Denise stood behind the counter top tapping her foot, as if it had been hours since she called her name. "Yeah, what?" Lucy asked, eyebrows raised.

Denise only grinned. "Check out table three," she mumbled as Lucy came round to the front of the counter. "The Mighty Emo and his mommy showed up again."

Propping her elbow up onto the counter, Lucy slid in the seat and nonchalantly craned her neck to the side. Low and behold, there sat Chris and Angela D'amico, in an apparent argument. "I thought they moved?"

"Oh, they did. Long Island. They come out once or twice a month. Some bullshit about this being his dad's favorite ham and eggs spot." Lucy's nose scrunched up. Favorite spot? This place? "Dude..this place is a dump, in the middle of bumfuck New York. I'm pretty sure three other people know about this place. Why would this be anyone's favorite spot?"

Denise held her hands up, turning back towards the kitchen. Well, customers are customers, she thought. If anything, they'd tip her well and she'd be able to live off of more than just instant potatoes and Coke. Grabbing her pad and pen, she warily made her way over. Chris looked up from his mother with a bored look on his face. Why anyone would want to wear that much black in ninety-degree weather, Lucy would never know.

"Welcome to Ollie's, can I get you anything to drink?" The young woman put on the most believable face she could, trying not to smack the scrutiny off of the spoiled boy's face. "Give me the strongest whiskey you have. I'd prefer if you put a little animal blood in there." Was this kid serious? Please, please don't let this poor guy be serious.

His mother sighed and rubbed her temples. "For fuck's sake, Chris- just get him a root beer. Ya got 'em in the little glass bottles, right?" Lucy nodded slowly, writing it down. "For me, I'll have a coffee. Gotta get a little a.m. boost."

"The only a.m. boost you've ever had in your life is the ten o'clock martinis-"

Lucy interrupted, hoping to god the boy would stop being overly rebellious towards his mother. Everyone dealt with death in their own way, but this..this was almost too much, especially for Lucy. "It'll be just a few minutes."

Angela only smiled, smacking Chris on the shoulder as Lucy turned on her heel to the drink station. She remembered the Chris from two years before, always properly dressed and holding a comic. Now he only acted like a bad ass in training, and it made her want to tear her hair out. Filling the mug to the brim with coffee, she grabbed the glass bottle from the fridge and made her way back over to table three. "Don't I know you?" Angela questioned, faintly tracing her finger along her chin. The woman's eyes were squinted as she studied Lucy's face, and again, the girl nodded.

"Yeah, actually. My dad, uh..he worked for Frank. At the lumber yard. And at your place." Lucy was now under curious eyes of both D'amico's. "My dad was there when the accident happened."

Chris scoffed out a quick, "It wasn't a fucking accident." This only made the urge to hit him stronger, and crossing her arms she turned her gaze to him. "Yeah, he died too, actually. But who's to notice the other causalities when Frank D'amico: Hotshot Mob-Man gets himself blown up."

She'd never been so irritated, so angry, but Chris managed to stomp on every last nerve she had. Lucy heard a cough, to which she quickly turned her head. Denise and Ollie stood shoulder to shoulder, their eyes begging her to step away from the table. And she did. It wasn't worth getting into an argument about who's death was more brutal, or who's pity party was bigger. In truth, no one gave a shit. "What the hell was that about?"

Plopping down in her seat at the counter, the girl shook her head quickly. "I really, really don't want to get into it. Would you mind if I got off a few minutes early?" Ollie shrugged, looking towards the caramel colored woman.

Denise offered a smile back to the owner, "I'll take the rest of her shift, no problem." Getting up, Lucy hugged the older woman. "It's been a rough day anyway, sweetheart. Go on home."

"Hey!" A voice was muffled, barely audible through her earbuds. "I'm talking to you." A hand gripped onto Lucy's shoulder, sending her into panic mode. She grabbed the wrist, threatening to twist it, and pulled her headphones out with her other hand.

Chris looked just as angry as she'd been moments before inside the diner, yanking his arm away from her. "What the fuck do you want, dude? Seriously, I really don't have time for spoiled little brats like you." His mouth opened as he struggled to find something to comeback with. "What, you've never been talked back to before? Welcome to the real world, motherfucker." Lucy shoved past him, her bony shoulder jabbing into his. Of course it would bruise her, but the satisfaction of the action made her feel tough, though the girl was about as tough as a graham cracker. She couldn't have been born into a more different family.

"Listen, bitch! If I wanted to, I could buy out that little diner of yours, and with it, I could probably buy you out too. Do you know who you're talking to?" He'd started to sound more and more obnoxious, arrogant. Flaunting the fact that he had money wasn't the way to get what he wanted, but in a greedy world, it still worked. Stopping, the redhead sucked her teeth.

"What do you want?" She asked flatly, not even turning around. Chris thought about it for a moment. What did he want from her? Well, he could think of a few things. To have her killed..maybe. Hurt? Almost definitely, along with a number of crude things that made even him blush. He knew who she was, and who her father was. He couldn't forget that fiery temper. Or that ass. He thought, staring her down. "I don't know yet. But when I figure it out, I'll be coming to find you." He pointed a finger at her. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Was that a threat? Was he threatening her? She couldn't be scared of this kid. Sure, she wasn't tough, or strong, or had an angry thirst for blood, but whatever facade this guy had up..it was bullshit, and she knew it.