Quick Author's note: Yeah, I've been working on this since I published chapter 1. If you're a homophobic jerk wad, don't even bother reading any more. Serge will be a large part in this chapter, maybe even the entire story. THIS IS BEING CONTINUED! NO ONE HAS THE NEED TO USE THE FORCE! :P

Sure, being antisocial isn't the best way to make friends, especially as a kid, but somehow I managed to make and keep one.

"Ok, Trix, I just drove halfway across the state to see you today, we are doing something. I'm only here for a week before your orientation."
Ok, you're probably wondering who the heck that was. My best friend since, well, the first month I was around (no, really, our parents were inseparable (his mother was 2 years older)), Serge.
If you're wondering about Orientation, well, I'd been here for about 3 months, and it was now September. I had barely submitted my application to the University in the next town over (about a 30 minute drive both ways) on time, and was accepted immediately. My bedroom had finally been finished, I'd talked to Sq- I mean, Todd… About the window to find out that his parents really didn't care as long as it was paid for.

My run-ins with Johnny hadn't improved much. Give me a break; I only used the spray about 20 out of 30 times… What? He was freaking me out! Anyways, back to the conversation.
"Serge, we ARE currently doing something. We're having a conversation. In person." I sighed. Serge had my best interests in mind, but, well, being pretty much my polar opposite, he was plain annoying most of the time. And the fact that he stole the only boyfriend I ever had…But I'm not bitter. They were so much better for each other anyway. We had so much more in common when we were in grade school. I wished everything could go back to that. I wished I could be my tiny 8-year-old self with curly blackish-brown hair that went past my waist, my mouth which contained any dentist's nightmare (and a HUGE under bite)… Before my mind snapped.
"Hello? Trixie?"
I was snapped from my thoughts by the gay prep sitting on the other side of my bed.
"Sorry." I grumbled
"You know, why do I even bother? You never listen to me anyways! You never have any clue what I'm saying. You're always there, in your little fantasy world, probably riding some magical stinking unicorn. You know what, Trixie? I wait until I'm ALONE before I ride my Pegasus! Notice how much more popular I always was?" he ranted in his usual way. I could barely hold back my giggles. No matter what, Serge always had a way of making me laugh…he usually didn't intend to, but he did.
"OH! Now you're laughing at me! Ask anyone, everybody loved me in high school, Trixie! You always frikken zone out, and I wait until I'm alone!" I held back another smirk as he yelled this.
"Are you even listening to me, Trixie? You aren't usually! You're sitting there LAUGHING! What? Remember one of your favorite DANE LOOK jokes? This is not online! Trixie, this is reality! We are doing something SOCIAL tonight. Where's the closest karaoke club?" he ranted some more.
"Listen, Serge, you've made your point. I need to listen. We'll do something at some point when you're here. Okay?" I laughed.
"No. We're going someplace every day and/or night this week."
"No we're not."
"Yes we are."
"No."
"Yes."

…I think you get it. This went on for a long time. Even with my stubbornness, Serge still won. That night I was forced to go to a karaoke club.
Neither of us knew at the time, but my life would be sent into a bigger spiral, spinning harder than it ever had before.

***3 hours later***

"Dude, come on…Serge, is this really necessary? We could just go out and have fun, and I'll pretend to be someone out to have fun. Do I really have to dress the part?" I asked in an embarrassingly whiney voice.
"Ugh" he growled "You may hate me now, but trust me, you're gonna look amazing. Now stop talking, I'm moving on to your lip gloss." He added, sounding like his happy self. He had forced me into a dress (and man was I horrified. I looked ok…you know, if I was a prep like who Serge hung out with most of the time), heels and was doing my makeup. My usually straightened hair was the only thing that looked normal about me (which made it look red-ish. No, really. If I were to run into someone I only saw at night (like Johnny), I wouldn't be shocked if I wasn't recognized). I didn't wear makeup, dresses or, well, heels. I just couldn't pull it off for various reasons. Makeup: Eczema would often react (not to mention that I could feel it on my face). Dresses: I feel way too exposed! And heels…well, I'm a klutz!

Serge gasped. "Trixie, you look amazing!" he gushed. I opened my eyes, stood up and looked in my full-length mirror. Sure, I looked pretty good, I had to admit, but I didn't look like…myself.

The dress went to just above my knees, was black with a cream coloured ribbon and a sequined top. The heels were white, open-toed (with quite a few straps) and about 6 inches high. My makeup was the opposite as I would have wanted. My eye makeup was dark purple, and the eyeliner was black, with pale pink lip gloss and a small amount of foundation.

"What? No 30 pounds of mascara?" I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Oh shoot, did I forget that?" he asked, not catching my…well, sarcasm.
I sighed. This was gonna be a long night.

****
Well, to keep it short, I met a guy there, Serge forced me to sing, and we arranged to meet with Jasper (the guy I met, genius) the next night at some mascaraed thing Serge knew about for months. (I'm certain that he's been planning this for a year just to torture me.)

"Serge, I know you're rich and all, but you really don't have to do this. I mean, I'm never gonna wear any of these things after you're gone."
He smirked at this. I was currently trying on yet another strapless gown, this one floor-length and also black. He had already made arrangements for me to get some fancy updo, AND he was buying me ANOTHER pair of heels.
"Just…do me a favor and tuck the tags." He said with a nervous giggle. I laughed.
"With pleasure." I replied.
"Okay," he said after paying for the dress "now let's go. Your appointment is in 5 minutes."
"We have 5 minutes to make it across town?" I half-yelled. This guy was insane…not ME insane, but…Oh, you know what I mean!
"Yes. 4 now that you're done ranting." He glared jokingly.

We made it in the nick of time. It looked pretty good, as much as I refused to admit it out loud, but yeah, it was ok.

"Okay, these are so you." Serge gushed, the second we walked into the door of the local PayMore.
"Well, as me as 8-inch heels can be." I snapped. He was starting to get on my nerves. We were using a whole day of shopping (insert cringe here) to go to some social (insert another clichéd cringe) event.
The heels were (you guessed it) black, with straps. No clue what to compare them to, but they were elegant, rather simple (for these type of heels, anyway).
"Can we just buy them and get out?" I asked.
"Fine."
We walked up to the counter. A blond cheerleader-type girl was at the counter.
"This is it?" she asked, sounding slightly disgusted.
"Yes." I replied, even more annoyed than I had been before. The phone next to her rang. She looked at us before answering it.
"PayMore. We'll empty your wallet." She answered, sounding unnaturally perky. I looked at Serge. He appeared too happy. He was bouncing (literally) and whistling. I envied him. Even in high school, when he finally came out as gay (11th grade) and everyone was tough on him (I think I was the only one who remained indifferent, or maybe I was happier. He didn't have to lie about himself anymore. Lucky.), he managed to remain as happy as could be.

"Omg, girl, text me the deetz!" the girl squealed into the phone. I snapped my fingers a few times to get her attention. Once she looked up I pointed at the shoebox. She covered the bottom of the phone.
"Uh, don't be rude, can't you see I'm on the phone here?" she asked, and I must say, her voice was extremely squeaky and annoying. Serge shook his head at me. Was I socially handicapped?
Well, that girl talked for, what seemed to be hours. We finally got out of there at 6:30 pm.
"Oh no! We're gonna be late!" Serge squeaked. I rolled my eyes.
"Great work, Sherlock. Let's just get back to my house and wait for Jasper. I need to get dressed…Wait! What're you gonna wear?" I asked. Neither of us had really thought about him.
"Oh shoot, um, I'll meet you there. You have a mask, right?"
"Yeah, but won't it be busy or something?"
"Yes, but I'll manage."

…

Needless to say, Jasper's car pulled up just as I slipped the white mask onto my face.
"Serge, hey! Why aren't you dressed?" he asked as Serge opened the door.
"I'll be meeting you guys there." He responded.
"Hey, ready to go?" I asked, walking down the hall, wanting to get the hell out of this place.
"Yeah," he smiled. "Let's go."
And with that, I stepped out into the September air, into his car.

We stopped at the local hotel. While the place sucked, they had a pretty nice ballroom. I'd stayed here with my mother during Christmas many times as a child, visiting the place I was now confined to until I was recovered.

The ballroom was filled with masks, dresses, arguments, friendly conversations, and couples sucking face. I wondered where we'd fit into later on. I was starting to get a little overwhelmed after he had introduced me to nearly every crowd, all of them seeming to know him well. I excused myself to the washroom.

I pulled out my cell phone.
[1 new text from Serge]
I opened it.
"Hey, sorry, something came up here! I may not be able to make it, but have fun! Be, you know, social! Get out of the washroom; that's the only time you'd probably be reading this."

I laughed and closed my phone. I decided to put it in my bra (and adjusted it so that it wasn't visible); I knew my purse wasn't very secure while I was at such a crowded event, and my phone had to be the most valuable thing I had with me. I hadn't brought my gun, mace, bear repellent or any large amounts of money. I didn't think I'd need them.
I was wrong.
[A/N: No, don't worry; I'm not leaving you hanging. But Disclaimer: I stole this from the beginning of Britney Spears' 'Criminal'. I do not own Britney or her song. If I owned Britney, she would release "monster".]

I stepped out of the washroom to see a tall girl (of course, she HAD to be tall! Nothing I could compete with, either. She was beautiful!) Flirting with Jasper, MY date. I walked straight up to them, trying to keep myself calm. My anger-management wasn't exactly my best quality.
"Not working the street corner tonight, I see?" I said, as snarky as I could, to the girl.
"Trixie, come here for a moment." Jasper growled, before grabbing my arm too hard for me to even try to struggle. He pulled me out the back door, into the alleyway behind the hotel. Of course, I didn't know this until later, having my eyes locked on him, being terrified out of my wits. I wouldn't be able to defend myself and run- not in these heels!
Nny's POV

I was doing well so far tonight. I hadn't killed a single person yet. There was only one hotel in the city, and it was terrible, from what I'd heard. I remembered some articles as I walked past. I was distracted by yelling. I looked around. I shrugged, knowing it was probably just some pimp and a hooker. I didn't know what, but something drew me towards the back of the building. I decided to follow that urge- it usually lead me astray.

I turned the corner to see a short girl with reddish brown hair, wearing a mask that appeared to be a crescent moon, being abused. I could see a terrified look in her eyes, even from where I was standing.
"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? WHO DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DEALING WITH? I AM JASPER SWIFT! YOU'RE JUST SOME GIRL I PICKED UP AS A LAST MINUTE DATE!" he screamed at her before punching her across the face. She toppled over. He picked her up and forced his lips to hers. She tried to struggle, but she appeared to have hurt her arm. I didn't want to, nor did I have to, but I stepped in.

I walked towards the duo, pulling the knife out of my pocket. The man had his back to me at this point. I simply raised my weapon and forced it into his back. I pulled it out and submitted it back in repeatedly. The girl stared at me, her dark eyes full of wonder.

[A/N: Yup. That's it. Finished at 11:56 pm, December 25th, 2011. It won't be Christmas for much longer. I wish you a happy holiday, though it will probably be a belated wish by the time this is re-published.
Good night, happy holidays, and I wish you the best in the New Year of 2012 if I don't update by the 31st. Hopefully the rapture hasn't passed by this time next year.