Oct. 27th, 17

Hope you enjoy!

:)


Why I stand alone,
A bell is ringing far away.
I wonder if you hear,
I wonder if you listening,
I wonder where you are today...


No One's Perspective-

Surely it was true and not just some hoax that students at Hollywood Arts had spread. The fact, Tori knew, was that a night of heavy drinking would lead to brains throbbing against skulls. Though, as the hoax stated (which she very much wished was true) was that the nightmare of drinking wouldn't attack, awake rather, until a limb moved. Before then, there was just peace. Just the quiet atmosphere of the warm, snuggly period under the cozy sheets of the welcomed bed. Move a leg and the events of the night prior may return without remorse, slapping the victim with their own actions. Shift around and the guilt of whatever would surely keep them groaning, nulling on about their aches and pains in the head. But, of course, Tori hadn't moved, since she heard the hoax before.

Well, it wasn't a hoax, not anymore at least.

Her bliss was counted down upon, the sun blinking through her blinds in the most unforgiven way. A bright line was set across her face, directly at her closed eyes. Even so, the blaring light for ten seconds was better than the huge semi about to smash into her.

'Ten...'

There was a gentle knock on the door as steps shuffled to the room. "Tori?" her mom called quietly, "Tori? Are you awake yet?"

Tori supposed that she should give a response, even though she might sound dead anyway. "Mmmmmmnnn," she hummed; still no sign of anything crashing into her system. The hoax was doubly correct. So the hangover wasn't allowed to start until the poor victim moved. How pitiful.

'Nine...'

"Do you want anything from the store?" Holly continued, Tori debating silently. She lay there, a slug under the sheets with several foods in mind, though all would come from McDonald's or In-N-Out. Anything hot and packed with grease would do well, though she remembered that Holly was still adamant about not having one morsel of fast-food for three weeks. That, as Tori groaned internally, was her resolution.

"Mmmmmmnnn," came the eventual answer.

'Eight...'

Holly shifted her weight from outside the door, her keys clinking against her purse. "Trina's making waffles, if you want any."

Waffles wouldn't be a bad choice, so the half-Latina thought. "Mmmmmmnnn."

'Seven...'

Steps began to leave the door before halting, doubling back. "Oh," came as an afterthought. Tori - with the least amount of locomotion as possible - perked, intrigued at Holly's next statement. "Someone called for you last night, just after you went to bed."

"Mmmmmmnnn?"

'Six...'

"It was that girl from school," she continued, "Jade." Doe eyes flashed open, her whole body jerking from the sun's taunting rays. "I think she just wanted to check on you got in okay."

'FivefourthreetwooneBANG-

Her body swung upright, her sluggish brain racking against her skull a second too late. "Oh God," she hissed, her limbs twisting and turning in the sheets as her mother's steps left the hall. So it wasn't a strange dream. She did actually go over to Jade's after the party. Her body slammed against her floor, blanket following as Tori heaved a hybrid between a groan and a yelp. Bolting to her feet, she trudged sporadically to her door.

'Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no,' her thoughts streamed, racing her feet as they trampled to the stairs. Her feet halted at the foot of the stairs, mind throbbing as the distant memory of waltzing over to Jade's and blabbing her feelings all over the place. Her gut dropped venomously as the aroma of waffles clubbed her in the stomach, adding the churning anxiety that nestled within it. Her head, meanwhile, shrunk to resemble a voodoo doll, her brain still buzzing frantically.

Trina and Holly remained busying themselves around the kitchen, conversing about something that Tori didn't much care about.

Although she did care about the fact that whatever beer had resided in her system had possessed her to march across the streets because of some text. Great. And then, having to sit there and tell the thespian all of those things, not stopping at the sheer gaze of bafflement on Jade's end.

And now, the best thing that Jade could do, is set her on a cross. Have nails struck through her wrist to slice to her fingers and then, eventually, have her lungs compressed and to be suffocating on wood.

But because Jade's not a Roman some thousand years ago, she'll definitely be doing that with snarky remarks, unmerciful tricks. Might as well go back to Sherwood and be done with the year.

Then again, if Holly wasn't saying anything out of pity, Jade had gone and phoned in out of concern. Or, at the very least, make sure that Tori was well rested and safe before strangling her at school. That could be an option. Though calling someone else's phone to make sure one was alright - she assumed anyway - was most definitely concern.

The writhing panic settling in her stomach chided Tori for having switched off her phone, ignoring the several calls in the taxi. That was the only part she truly recalled from the night prior; the cab smelled strongly of something musty and smoke with a hint of lavender. She hadn't cared then as she remained ignorant of the driver's attempts at conversation - though she had to admit he was trying his best - while turning off her phone.

"Mom?" she croaked, stumbling down the stairs wearily with the continuous war in her head.

"Hi, honey," came a small smile, "Did you want me to pick you up something?"

"No," she shook her head. Big mistake, her brain rattled against the sides. "It's just... When Jade called last night, how did she sound?"

As Holly pursed her lips in thought, Trina briefly picked her head up, eyes drifting over towards the two before going back to the breakfast. "Well, she was very polite," she nodded, adding, "She didn't sound at all like the awful girl you're always complaining about."

Tori very nearly mentioned the fact that Jade was one of the best actresses at the school, neck and neck with Beck.

"No," she mumbled, careful to not scratch her throat with her own voice, "I mean, how did she sound? What kind of mood was she in?"

"I don't know," Mrs. Vega shrugged, "Concerned? Worried?"

"Really?"

"Wait, did you two have a fight again?" Tori remained quiet as hands went to hips, not a good sign. "You know, Tori, I've told you about letting your temper run away with you. You get that from your father's side."

That point as been often debated.

"Me? I don't have a temper!" she whined, "She's always the one who-"

"Ah, ah," Holly scolded, "Nobody likes a tattletale. You leave the poor girl alone."

"But-"

"I said, 'nobody likes a tattletale.' Now," Holly sighed, readjusting her bag to her shoulder, "did you want anything?"

Tori sighed, shaking her head as she muttered, "No." Pouting, she slumped on the counter as the garage door shut closed. Of course she couldn't say anything other than what her mother wanted. The woman wouldn't care if the world had gone to shit, leaving outrageous Vikings to bunk with them so long as they helped prepare the dishes, wiped their feet, minded their manners and called her "ma'am."

Trina, setting her own plate of waffles to the side, remained unconvinced. She, after all, knew trouble when it bustled out of bed and rolled down the stairs in a horror. "So what did you fight about?" she asked, nonchalantly.

Resting her head against the cool countertop - which didn't feel all that bad - Tori growled, "We didn't fight."

"Right."

"We didn't!" Tori defended hotly, "It's just, complicated."

"It must be," Trina drawled, "Because you went out to a party she wasn't even at, and then for some reason she's calling you at one in the morning, and now you're in a foul mood." Her observations led Tori to close her eyes, the eldest softening her gaze. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Tori looked at her. She was always surprised buy the way Trina could switch her personality on and off, be brusque and uncaring one minute, and then almost like a real sister the next. She thought about confessing everything to her, and then she thought about whether she really wanted the entire school and most of L.A to hear about her indiscretion, and decided against it. "No," she sighed, "I'm going back upstairs."

Scoffing, Trina muttered, "Suit yourself."

. . .

The waters of the thrashing storm had finally ceased, leaving Tori calm under her sheets.

She mulled over her decision thrice now, finally deciding that what she had done was - to say the least - destructive. Firstly, keeping the situation at hand to themselves was important, since she didn't want her face plastered on everybody's mind with some other words and phrases she couldn't even imagine. A roll of the eyes would accompany it, surely. And then there was the friendship. Of course, she had lit a match, expecting a fantastic show of fireworks and whatnot from the initial spark. But that didn't happen in the slightest. Instead of having a spectacular show - like the romantic dweeb she was - she stayed true to her state; Tori Vega, by announcing her feelings spontaneously with alcohol in her system, had started a huge forest fire, unable to be controlled.

Well...damn.

And, to make that fact worse, it was the one forest that she craved for when she first set food on Hollywood Arts, accepting that the school would be hers. Trina was fine, though being sisters with different mindsets, secrets would have her squirming until one of them became a late sister. Andre was perfect, really, though there was never that understanding that same-sex friendships often had. Cat, bless her heart, was a good friend. Nice to talk to. Though, admittedly, there were many times when Tori had needed to break away from the nonsense, something which Cat didn't seem to know how to tame herself. Beck, cool guy, was alright. But like Andre, that connection wasn't there; with him it was even worse since he wasn't quite the man that Andre was.

Tori shivered, shaking her head as she just referred to her best friend as a man.

And so, she just needed a friend who she'd be able to come to emotionally and not be completely wrecked. One person was able to stay true to that, and that one wasn't Robbie and his bottle-nippled locker, but Jade with scissors impaled through it.

Unlikely, sure, though the scissors did listen, and didn't make their way to hearts. Just a tad bit under the skin and driven into bones, but not the heart or anything other that resided with emotions.

But whenever Tori managed to breach passed the walls, she found a person who was easy to talk to and understood. And it wasn't hard to know why; both had difficult parents, both had to do things on their own and both had to deal with Trina. Tori more so than Jade, though both had to. There was that union, at the very least.

A union which was to be restarted every-single-day. The bickering never halted, the taunts never ended though they always steered clear from emotions. Always about food, or about ideas, or even about talent. Breaking up? No, that was for Tori to awkwardly pat on Jade's shoulder as she cried into the only knitted pillow by a certain grandma. Kicked from singing at karaoke? Nope, that was for Tori to wear a mask only to dance about, easily becoming the victor. What about devious boyfriends (who only lasted a few weeks)? Nah, just a forewarning (which was, admittedly, ignored initially on Tori's part) from Jade.

That unity, right there, was then shattered in the hands of Tori, the small flame taking over the card-tower strategically built by the two.

All because she said she liked her.

Liked her enough to run in heels.

"Dang it," Tori grumbled. That didn't seem to cut it. "Fuck," she breathed, skewing her eyes shut. "Fuck."

And did she even like her? Surely not, especially with everything at the party. Oh how alcohol screwed with everything thus far in the year. And even then, did she even like girls? That...was a possibility. The Sherwood girls did somewhat turn her head around, until she remembered they wore a pound of make-up. Amanda Goodman hadn't though. With that in mind, Tori sped through her imagination, gathering everything in her power to imagine trudging through the night in five inch heels to say anything.

Wouldn't have happened.

In reality, she couldn't ever pinpoint one person where she had this level of intimacy with. Not even her mother, though why would she tell her mom about anything regarding boys, never mind this whole mess.

She scowled to herself, a palm to her forehead. She needed to talk to Jade, that was it. Her phone stared blankly back in her hand, no sign of concern from Jade as she had demonstrated that night. Or, better yet, that morning. Of course, at that time, Tori blatantly ignored her, dwelling in her own dilemma. And the tables had turned over the course of hours. Jade was ignoring her, she was sure of it. But out of what? Was she hurt, annoyed, amused or horrified? Tori simply couldn't muster any idea, not having heard first hand Jade's voice from the call.

'God, Tori, you're so stupid,' she internally scolded herself.

Nevertheless, she'd call at later. That wasn't a bad idea, was it? Calling now would mean the possibility of waking the sleeping bear, which wasn't smart on its own. But she would call and explain everything. Explain that...well, she still needed to figure that out. But she'd call, definitely, most definitely call.

Yes, most definitely.

She nodded off, roaming about her room for something to keep her mind busy.

. . .

Water beat like the hands on the clocks around the house, the half-Latina sulking in her self-built misery. The bottles stacked around her weighed a ton each, the tap costing her muscles to flex as she sat at the bottom of the tub, constantly blinking the water from her eyes. Her knees were accepting of the arms wrapped around them, as they allowed her to walk miles from the party, to Jade's, then from Jade's to a nearby street.

Realistically, she knew that she was being a bit...dramatic to say the least. There was somebody in the world who was being killed, surely. At the same time, there was somebody having their first whatever with their own crush. Even though Tori didn't have anything towards Jade and it was all a misunderstanding.

Even so, she still shrunk at the latter.

There were several things, no doubt, that would happen. All of which were not really wanted. The next day she'd step into the main hall, only to find the other five - Jade among them - snickering as she made her way to the locker. Or, perhaps, the first thing she'd see is a hurtling fist before her nose snapped. Or, being less violent and reputation-demeaning, then she wouldn't talk to the thespian. Not on her choice, perhaps (alright, some of it her own choice) but Jade would be distant. She'd stare at Tori with a sneer and skirt off, defining her blank expression from before as a sinister loathing and the two didn't - in fact - have a friendship.

Tori sighed, ignoring the thumping against the door, Trina wishing to go back in. Tori did, after all, shove her sister from the bathroom and lock the door.

But the best thing to happen would be that nothing would happen to her nose and nobody would know. Jade, even, would still be by her side, if not a foot away. That would be...acceptable.

She pressed her lips firmly against her knees, cradling herself into a smaller ball. The very best thing to happen would involve more feelings. She didn't have a crush mind, but Jade could, at least, lean in and say, 'I like you too,' before...doing something. Smile? That'd be nice. If Jade would lean in, say that and then smile would be quite nice. She had such a lovely smile whenever-

'No, that won't happen,' her thoughts snapped, leaving Tori back to square one.

What would she do? What could she do? No, she knew what she could do, which was a lot that would lead to several different outcomes.

Either way, it was up to her and that was that. In the mist of her thoughts, she recalled a bumper sticker she'd spotted on the way over to some camp. It read WWJD? in bolded, red letters. From the pictures set behind the letters, she knew it was. What Would Jesus Do? it had asked. Better yet, it asked, What Would Jade Do?

Tori quietly snickered, briefly imagining Jade with long white robes and a fake beard standing tall and mighty with a great light flashing behind.

Once her quiet laughter settled down, she sighed. If the roles had been switched, and Jade had come over, leaning against the door frame as she had done before, eyes glancing out once the door was open. Tori would greet her and then Jade would make the confession. And then, with her reputation, two things were probable at that point.

Either she'd say it bluntly, expecting nothing else. 'Yeah? What of it?' she'd ask. Then, Jade would continue forth rashly, confidently dragging the gawking half-Latina up the stairs before taking a first away. Nicely, Tori blushed upon, smacking her forehead.

Reality, on the other hand, stated that Jade would deny it. She would deny the shit out of it, milking her opportunities dry. That fact was clear as day when Saint Peter possessed her soul, seeming to ferment in Jade's devious smirk and mischievous stare as she played on Tori's stolen phone (helping the half-Latina get passed levels forty through seventy-eight of Grumpy Gerbils, something which Tori didn't know she was good at) whilst nonchalantly disregarding the signer's confrontation.

Denial, that was a simple task. Sure she'd have to own up to the fact that she did everything, though mean what she said was completely different. Tori was drunk, as she reasoned, and drinking led to terrible decisions. All she had to do was call, and then laugh it off at school, and then just go back to how they were.

Easy.

Within a minute, the curtains were drawn and Tori stepping from the shower. She jerked open the door to find Trina scowling, a line of mascara from her eye to ear. Tori only shrugged passed, going into her room and to her phone. Without a second thought, she stared at Jade's number on the screen, nibbling at her bottom lip. In five seconds she'd call. With her mental clock set, she began, 'Five...four...three...two...wait.' Too short, much too short for her liking.

'Ten...nine...eight...seven...six...five...four...three...two...' By the time zero had made its appearance in her skull, the screen blanked out, having enough of her antics. Countdowns her stupid, as she determined. Eyes wavered towards her clock, reading 10:39. Eleven o'clock would be the proper time, definitely. She'd calm herself from the shower and just call and everything would be done with.

Perfect.

. . .

Not perfect. Definitely not perfect. Who would call at eleven exactly? It was too formal, as she decided. 'Ten-past- No, eleven-past so I can make a wish,' Tori had internally promised.

Her wish was to go at twenty-past. Although, by then, she had misplaced her phone due to Trina ordering her to tend to her recent, bursting pimple. At that moment, she'd wanted to be calling Jade and not dealing with her sister's zits. At half-past she found her phone and took in a deep breath.

"Trina!" she called down the stairs.

"What?" came an annoyed answer. She still hadn't forgiven her for the mascara.

"Could you help me?" Tori asked.

Heavy thumps sounded across the house, Trina soon hovering in the doorframe, eyes blaring out with zero sympathy. "What?"

"Could you just dial Jade's number for me?"

Trina blinked at the offering hand, brows furrowing. "Me? Why?"

"My hands are...dirty," Tori murmured lamely.

"You just took a shower," Trina deadpanned, glancing at the towel wrapped around Tori, wet hair over one shoulder.

"Please?"

Apparently that was all that took to get Trina's help. She jerked the phone from the half-Latina's grasp, firmly punching the screen as if the phone was at fault. "It's ringing."

"Give it to me!" Tori abruptly slammed into her sister, wrestling Trina out the door. "Go! Go!" The eldest yelped in defiance, the phone then rocketing towards the bed. Tori, ignoring the slam at her side and Trina's irritable stomps back down the stairs, hurled herself towards the bed. The towel, miraculously, remained modestly clinging to her body. No answer came, leaving Tori to inhale the air she had needed for the few moments of waiting. Tapping the phone once again, the same result came to be.

'Thank God for voicemail,' she internally cheered, picking herself up from the bed. A better plan, as she figured - it didn't require having to go through another conversation like or worse than the night prior.

'Hey, hi. It's Vega. I mean Tori,' she began, thumbing over her bookshelf, 'Look, I'm really sorry about last night, I was at the party and I'd had a couple of drinks - well, more than a couple really, I was kinda drunk - and I was all mellow and fuzzy, and when you texted, I just felt really bad for you, you know, stuck over there on your own, sick and everything, and I think I got a little...confused...'

As her thoughts rallied, it was a good start. She nulled towards her door, leaning her back against it.

'I mean you do, sometimes, don't you, about how you feel about things? Like when you're in a night club dancing and you tell people this is the best song ever, because you're just lost in the moment, and you think you want to dance to that one song for the rest of your life. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is,' she took in a deep breath, 'I said a whole bunch of things that made sense at the time, but now I realize were totally, I mean, totally, not true. So I know it was pretty embarrassing, and I don't want things to be weird at school, so I was kind of hoping that we could maybe catch up tomorrow and have a laugh about it, or go for a coffee, or maybe you could just hit me with something if it makes you feel better, and then we can forget all about it.

'Okay, bye,' she finished, blinking towards her closet.

A long beep sounded in her ear, dutifully ending the attempted call. Tori realized that her mouth hadn't opened once, prompting her to dial once again. She waited a few seconds, finding a rather quick answer to her needing call.

. . .

There was no equilibrium in the bedroom, under the sheets. She shook, trembling as chills raced down her spine all while sweat beaded from her forehead, even if she didn't want it to. Her throbbing head pounded against her skull, having been fed up with the constant naps throughout the day, wanting some fresh air. Though the immense amount of painkillers in her system kept her rooted to her deathbed, Jade groaning tiredly.

Her thoughts debated how much she actually took. It could have been one in between each nap, or just three all together. Maybe there was a fourth, she'd long since forgotten.

Determination had fueled her throughout the day, keeping Jade's irrational-flu thoughts on school. Perhaps they'd be working on a writing assignment, that would most certainly be enjoyable. And that was certainly not probable. She heaved a wracking cough, spitting obscenities towards the sheets. Even with the school work at most being a time-filling activity, she remained adamant about getting her limbs back and moving, air clear of mucus and snot.

She needed to talk to her, Jade had decided. There was no call to let her nerves rest, though her nerves was everywhere at the moment anyway.

Closing her eyes, the goth forced her body into another nap, dreading the night to come which wouldn't give any sleep. Clothing and other various items were left scattered on the floor, her phone being one of them. As her vision blurred, she heard the distant vibrations of the device faintly, not having the mental capacity to move a centimeter, never mind the few feet.

It blinked briefly after a few moments, the battery dying itself.

. . .

"Shit," she hissed, glancing down at the unresponsive phone besides the "annoying bitch-lady," as Tori called the cell-service thereafter. Now Jade was pulling a new-year-Tori.

The outrageous idea of walking over to the West's residence like the night before sifted through her other notions, though it wasn't as tempting as it had been. For one, the sun and the scattered clouds had glared through her window disapprovingly, and her senses weren't drowning in the glorious bottles from before. She began thinking about the world before phones, staring at her hands dumbly. Pencils, pens, markers and everything in between had breached their way through, Tori nodding in thought. She could write like people have been doing for centuries.

Now what was that thing called again? With her head still thumping against her conscious, she couldn't think of it. 'Telegraph...telephone...gram...card...le-'

Of course! How can she be so ignorant. A letter. That was it; she'd go in and write it, take it over to Jade's house, slip it in the mail or on the car's windshield. And then curiosity would take hold of Jade and she's read it and then...something would happen.

It didn't matter now.

Tori sped back down the stairs to quickly snatch all of the paper she could grasp from the printer and then a pencil or two before racing back up the stairs. Trina swore at her, complaining how she had to move to see the television screen and replay a minute of the show. At her desk, with her heart pulsing rapidly, Tori set her hand to the paper, not having the faintest clue as of where to start. How would any letter start?

That idea, she found, was easier to answer. Two letters were scrawled on the paper, attempting to douse the flames set the night prior, attempting to control the spark that went array.

Dear Jade...


Alrighty, so now we're back to where Sev left off and now...I'm taking the reins completely (well...yeah, kinda). Tried to stay true to it with the three here, down to the dialogue, which I somewhat altered at some points...not much though.

As for updates, the next chapter probably won't come out until after I'm done with Lycanthropy and Wooden Door. So, about, a few weeks.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed.

:)