A/N: This chapter will be written in about three sections all from different perspectives, just so we can get a real feel of what's going on in the story : ) xx.

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Olivia

I softly stroked the mascara wand through my lashes again, unable to ease my churning stomach. Whatever happened that night would draw a firm line underneath mine and Corey's friendship, not to mention mine and Phoebe's, if there was even anything to draw underneath anymore. Fixing stuff seemed to be all I was doing lately, and it clearly wasn't my forte. Not knowing what I wanted to happen with Corey made me nervous, I couldn't even decide what I wanted, let alone control howit's going to happen or even what it is. I looked over to my side where the curling tong was heating up on the floor, I had already curled my hair, but in typical me behaviour I had to do certain sections again.

I put the mascara wand back into the tube and placed it onto the vanity unit I was sitting at, I looked deep into the mirror, knowing what I saw; it was nothing special. Why would Corey pick me over Phoebe? She's prettier, thinner, and more fun. She's not complicated or standoffish, and most importantly, she'd never mess with his head the way I have. I knew I was doing it, but not how to end it. I had to make a choice and either way he'd end up getting hurt, in the end. I guess I just thought that if there was no end, if nothing was finite no one could get hurt, but I think I hurt him more by leading him on.

I leant over the side of the stool and picked the curling tong off the floor, spinning my hair around it and waiting, holding it tight, finally releasing. Kind of like all all things, you spin and spin and spin until there's nothing more and then you hold tight for as long as you can, until it gets too hot to handle. And then you finally let go. For example, I span it out with Corey for as long as I could, unable to make a definate decision, and then I held tight, afraid of what I might lose. But I'd have to let go sooner or later, it was getting too hot, there's too much pressure. And at the end of it, you're either left with a curl - exactly what you wanted - or you have to start from scratch. I wasn't ready to let go yet, sooner or later though, I'd have to, and I had a feeling it was going to happen that night.

At that moment a heard the familiar double beep which meant that my ride for the evening had arrived and was waiting for me outside the window, where my lacy white curtains were fluttering gently. I pushed my stool away from the vanity unit and stood up, walking to the full length mirror that stood forbodingly by my wardrobe, waiting to give the final verdict. Wondering if my face had changed again as it seemed to every day now, very day a new freckle or darker eyes or just something different in me as I shifter deeper into someone I no longer recognised.

I brushed my hair away from my face and nervously drew in my stomach, wondering if there was any way my thighs could breathe in. I picked my bag off of the end table, at last satisfied. Stepping carefully downstairs in my heels and pullig down the denim mini skirt that was already riding up I wondered if there was any point saying goodnight to my mother. I hiked up the sweetheart neckline on the yellow top and poked my head around the door of her office where she was leaning over her laptop and typing furiously as if on the cusp of something brilliant. Deciding it was best to leave her be, I tiptoed out and down the corridor safe in the knowledge that we had discussed where I was going and the fact that it'd be easier if I stayed at Corey's for the night.

I stepped out of the door, mussing my hair, smiling broadly and waving to my escorts for the evening, one of whom blushed at my gesture. My smile was genuine and I felt a happy buzz rush through my stomach at the feel of it, as I practically bounced down the driveway.

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Corey

I dunked my hand back into the bag of chips, and shovelled them into my mouth, pouring more coke into my mouth, chewing on the chips at the same time, shaking my head violently until the coke fizzed and then swallowing. I smiled widely at Edward, who grimaced slightly, I couldn't help but chuckle at the pure disgust written across his face, curling his lip. I'd been so panicked about impressing Olivia with my punctuality that I'd left the house with Edward about an hour before necessary, which left a load of time to pick up junk food and caffeine, an excellent mix for a good night out. Although this had been my first party in months. I didn't go out anymore because that wasn't who I was. I used to be Corey - Party Boy Extraordinaire, but to a certain degree I was always looking for something more but I didn't know what it was that was missing. All I knew was that when I saw Liv in the cafeteria that day she looked perfect, and the closer you got to her the more you noticed that she was. I wanted to be perfect too, or I should've. Everyone wants to be perfect.

But Edward and I had arrived twenty minutes early, so we parked up oppostie Olivia's house and waited. "So, do you go to parties a lot?" Edward asked from the back seat, I smiled, turning slightly in the drivers seat to face the side window.

"I used to, not so much anymore though. You?" I knew it was a stupid question the second I said it adn wanted to swallow the words, take them back, or catch them on their journey and bury them like a dog burying a bone. Except I hoped I wouldn't find these words. He seemed to realise this too as he ignored my final question. We looked around for something to talk about, desperately clutching at straws. I peered through the side window and noticed that the light was on in Olivia's room. Her curtains were drawn back but the lace hung, swaying in the summer breeze, I could see into her room and see her doing her make-up, I looked away sharply, as if just by looking I had somehow violated her privacy. I'd never been to her room before, it was unknown territory, a line not to be crossed. I was fine with this, although again it was just another phoney excuse to keep something of herself secret, away from my prying eyes, as if she didn't trust me. I heard Edward take a deep breath beside me as I dropped my eyes down and drew my attention to the car panel in front of me, running my hand over the smooth, black finish.

"Why don't you go out so much anymore?" Edward asked as I heard his shift in his seat.

"Um," I floundered for a moment, unable to think of a reason. I sighed heavily, then glanced up at the window, Edward's eyes followed my glance up to the open dormer window, watching in uncomfortable silence as Olivia crossed the room. She moved so gracefully, as though she was floating on air. "Well, you're looking at her." I said, dropping my eyes again.

"Do you...miss the parties?" Edward asked uncertainly, like he was thinking he should have said something else, but there was nothing to say. Teenagers on the whole tend to leave the philosophy to philosophers, we go with what feels right, not what necessarily is. I felt a lurch in my stomach as I remembered the parties, the kegs, the vomit, the beds; I realised that a part of me still missed those days, the days when who you are didn't matter, just as long as you had fun.

"Eheh," I chuckled, "I guess so. What's to miss though? I've got my friends, I've got my junk food," I said, holding up the chips and rustling them emphatically, "I'm living the good life." I glanced down at my jeans and started to pick at a small hole, picked out the individual strings and feeling them unravel slightly, until I stopped myself by thinking of the image of entering my first house party in about a year in boxers, sneakers and a t-shirt. Back in the day I'd have been heralded a hero, wild man and I'd grab some sunglasses, kick off my shoes and dig it Risky Business-style. I was too tame for that now. Old at sixteen. I remembered the upcoming birthday headed my way at an increasingly alarming rate, wondering if I'd wasted time, I felt a tug in my stomach again, as if my body was now aware of my obligation to Olivia as well.

"And, um, how do you know she's worth it?" Edward said, I looked round at him from my seat and crinkled my brows, puzzled, he met my gaze, "I-I..." Edward looked down at the floor, "I just mean...are you sure you two are meant to be? Star crossed lovers and all that? How do you know?" He looked up again, his pink rimmed eyes staring at me, drawing out the truth as if lasooing it and attaching it to the fastest stallion, I had to answer quickly.

"I don't." I replied simply, Edward was silent, "But I hope she is." I added, quietly. I glanced at the clock on the dashboard, "Oop, it's time." I said, beeping the horn twice for safety, not daring to go to the door in case things had still not settled down. I looked up at the window, where I notcied Olivia walk to the window, look out at us then turn on her heel allowing her golden curls to bounce as she disappeared out of view for a minute or two. I took another deep gulp of Coke and watched as she stepped out of the front door, closing it quietly behind her. She turned to us and waved excitedly, grinning as she glided down the front drive. I smiled and chortled softly, looking away, my hair falling into my eyes, I flicked it out of my face with a shake of my head. Olivia pulled open the passenger-side door and sat. "Ready to partay?" I hollered.

"Sure thang." She said, biting her pillowy lower lip as she pulled her seatbelt across her body and clicked it into place. I put started the engine of the car and pulled away from the sidewalk, Olivia looked out the window and Edward looked at her in the reflection of the wing mirror, she was still biting her lip and she fiddled and fidgeted with everything she could reach and I wondered somewhat arrogantly whether her anxiety could be anything to do with me.

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Phoebe

"Okay, Pheebs, but I'm just warning you." Kaya's voice said down the crackly phone-line.

"He wouldn't do that. He was asked specifically not to bring her. And she's not...stupid." I said, the s-word stung on my tongue, I never liked to say it out loud. "Now, onto something that matters," I started, crooking my neck over to one-side in order to hold the phone to my ear. "Silver sequinned mini, or...like...something else?" I asked, holding the dress up against myself, still in my sweats after applying my make-up and doing my hair. I heard a creak from the doorawy which was reflected in my full-length mirror and swivelled round accusingly in my socks. "Sorry, Kay, can you hold on a sec?" I said, laying the dress gently onto my purple satin duvet and taking the phone off my shoulder, carefully covering the mouth-piece. "What?!" I spat, turning to face my seven year old sister who stood timidly in the doorway, afraid to cross the threshold because of my personal space rule.

"Mom and Dad wanna thee you in the den." She lisped. Eloise, master of speech impediments. Mom and Dad sent her to a speech therapist but I suspected she did it for attention.

"Well they can wait a few minutes." I said hurriedly, I picked the dress off the bed one handedly and held it up against my body again and wondered what was missing.

"Wow..." Eloise said to the dress, advancing across the room towards the dress and grabbing at the shiny object that now had her complete attention.

"Hey!" I said, yanking the dress from her hands. "Hands off. I'm wearing this tonig-" I paused for a second, unsure of what I had noticed, until holding the dress up to the light and examining the small, streaky handprint that had smeared across the front of the dress. I gasped and span my head to look at the pouting, freckled seven year old demon that perched on my bed, arms crossed, feet dangling over the edge of my bed. I stomped over to her and grabbed her hands roughly, turning them palm up to reveal purpley hands. "Jam?!" I shrieked.

"B-b-b-bluebewwy." She stuttered innocently, guiltily wrenching her hands away from my grasp and crossing her arms again. I screamed in frustration as she leapt off the bed and sped out of the room.

"Mom?! Dad?!" I shouted, thundering out onto the landing, "That little stain has ruined my dress!" I leant over the landing banister, waiting expectantly for a reply or some description of justice for the poor dress who had hurt no one. There was a long pause, I leant further over.

"....Phoebe?" My Dad's voice called casually from the den. "Can we see you for a moment?" I stomped downstairs, wound up by the cheerful tone he possessed in the face of my ill fortune.

"Certainly father." I said, with a mockingly peppy tone as I bounced sarcastically into the den. Where my mother and he were snuggled up on the terracotta couch in front of the fire, clutching mugs of chamomile tea, as was their after work ritual.

"Phoebe." My Dad smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he took his loafers off the coffee table. "We just want to make sure you are aware of the rules." He said calmly, sitting up straight of the couch, my mother sat up also taking a deep sip of her tea as I crossed my arms and glowered at them impatiently.

"Rules," My mother started, "Which we would be pleased you respected." My mother said kindly, tilting her head to one side.

"How about this rule?" I started, "Keep your spawn away from my clothes!" I barked.

"Phoebe, that's a seperate issue and will be dealt with once the issue of your safety has been reolved and we have complete peace of mind about this little shindig." My father said, smiling. I groaned and was sure that he knew how much he annoyed me as he tilted his head to one side the same way my mother had and crossed his arms across his lavender sweater. My father had a certain manner, he was carefree, bright and cheerful. He had shiny, mousy brown hair and delicate framed recangular glasses which he liked to adjust over his blue eyes when he was talking to you; he also liked to crossone angle across the opposite knee and display his omnipresent loafers which could not be dragged off his feet unless at work or a social gathering, which to my embarassment he sometimes requested my mother to put them in her handbag so he could change into them later.

"Go ahead." I gave in, as my mother placed her mug carefully onto a pastel polka dot coaster on top of our glass-topped coffee table, ready to take over. I got my strawberry blonde hair from her, which she had teased back into an endearingly scruffy ponytail and brushed against the collar of her cropped yellow cardigan which she wore over her yellow flower patterned summer dress with wedge heels. She dropped her hands into her lap and clasped them tightly.

"Your father and I feel..." She began, gesturing towards herself and Dad. I rolled my eyes.

"Jenny dear, please don't bring me into this. If I had my way I'd still be watching the cricket."

"Martin." She said firmly, turning to look at him, "This needs to be talked about." He nodded with chagrin, and reached for his newspaper, rustling it loudly and holding it in front of his face to read it, as if protecting himself from the whole lecture. I wished that I could steal the broadsheet from him and curl up in it, because I knew what would be coming next, "You may be getting to the age when parties aren't necessarily "pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey-and-don't-forget-to-take-a-piece-of-cake-as-you-leave" parties. They're more..." She trailed off searching for the right word.

"Beer fueled adolescent pill-popping sex fests." My father finished for her, his expression hidden by the large newspaper which rustled as he turned the page. My jaw dropped, now I wasn't prepared for that.

"Dear God." I stared at them incredulously as my mother reached for a small see-through zip-lock bag, through which I could see condoms and many other miscellaneous objects of which I didn't know their names. "Mom, please." I begged. "Stop."

"Honey, we want what's best for you. We know that you're a sensible girl but you're...easily lead," She reasoned. Damn right, I thought, It's just a shame they weren't giving this lecture at the last party I went to, I probably would've thought twice about going all the way with Lawrence. I admitted to myself with shame and regret.

"There's, um, a drink tester in there, so that if you leave your drink for a prolonged period of time you can test it for rohypnol and other such...things." She said, I could hear the shudder in her voice as he voice broke from her mortification. "In fact," She said more confidently, "I got about eighteen," My father cleared his throat from behind his newspaper, "And there's Pepper Spray..." She opened the zip-lock bag and took it out, placing it by her side, "Mace..." She took another aerosol out.

"Yeah, mom, I have Kaya on the phone, I left her on hold. So I'll..." I pointed towards the door with my thumb.

"If you could take these it would really put out minds at rest." My mom said, Dad lowered his newspaper and looked over the top, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"I'll - okay, I'll take the pepper spray, ok?" I bargained.

"And...?" My Dad prompted.

"And a couple of drinks test strips and one condom." I said firmly as my dad blushed and retreated back behind his newspaper.

"Marvellous," My mother said, crinkling her freckled nose with joy and smiling, "Now that's all over..." She began, "There's blueberry pie in the kitchen." She smiled, as I glared back snottily and thought of the poor dress. It was back to the drawing board for outfits, as usual I had to make up another one using whatever I had around.

I climbed the stairs wearily and when I entered my room again I was unable to look at the dress which I felt I had failed somehow. I could hear a small voice coming from the phone, "Phoooooooeeeeeeeeebeeeeeeeeeee! Pheeebs! Phoebe!!" Kaya shouted down the phone.

"Hey, sorry, I got kidnapped by the parents." I said, shuddering at the memory. "But I think the sequinned dress is out the window." I said sadly.

"Nevermind, huh, Pheebs? You always think of something, everyone always says you're so fashion forward." She said, proudly. Little did she know that all these cutting-edge ensembles were the resulty of having my planned outfits ruined by my jam-handed sibling. "But, back to more pressing matters. How are you gonna deal with seeing Lawrence again?" I sat down on the bed.

"I dunno, he- Well, I am NOT talking to him again. The pig. Rrrgh!" I said with frustration, pacing the room and flicking my hair, which to my delight was soft and shiny.

"And there's Olivia there too - a.k.a. Olivia Puketon Whore," She jibed, laughing at her own cruel joke which played on the name of Olivia Newton John, who I personally loved in Grease, of course I only fully understood it after Kaya explained it to me. Twice.

"Hmm." I said, not fully comfortable with the name-calling, even if she did deserve it. I walked across to my wardrobe, ducking underneath the hanging veils and fairylights which hung along the ceiling of my room. I opened the door and flicked through all my clothes which inevitably either had stains or were too casual for tonight. The only clean thing that was remotely possible for tonight was an old white concert tee from the seventies, which was about five sizes too big and too long to go with jeans. Then I had an idea.

"What if I said I had an idea to get back at them both?" Kaya said cunningly.

"Hm?" I said, confused.

"Olivia and Lawrence!" Kaya said impatiently.

"Oh, right. Yeah?" I said, picking the necessary items out of my wardrobe and tossing them onto my bed.

"Well, I was thinking we could tell Lawrence that Liv likes him, not Corey." I listened carefully, "Then, he starts making the moves, we slip a little something in her drink, which will make his charms a little hard to resist," She snickered maliciously, I leaned against the one closed door of my wardrobe, shocked. "And then, Corey and Olivia both get mad at Lawrence and Lawrence exposes Olivia for the evil little slut she is." She waited to hear my response but I didn't reply. "I know, it's a little harsh, but come on, Lawrence humiliated you and Olivia is a backstabber! Speaking of which, do you still like Corey?"

"Well, he's cute, but...no." I said truthfully, "I never really liked him that much, I had a crush on him sure. But if she had said she wanted him then I wouldn't have got in the way. But she didn't," I said, suddenly angry, "She went behind my back, knowing it'd upset me, meeting him without me and all the while "Oh, I'm not really into any of the guys at school, not my type."" I impersonated her voice nasally and then scoffed. "I just...I can't believe she's turned into such a...lying, bitchy, manipulative, man stealing..." I could hear Kaya holding her breath for whatever derogatory insult I would use next as I searched my mind for the right word to insert into the end of that sentence, but most of the words that came to mind were far too harsh, or just not harsh enough. "...Skag." I finished anticlimactically. I could tell from the sigh at the other end of the phone that Kaya was hoping for something a tad more extreme, or offensive.

"Right." She said, "So we'll exact your revenge tonight, right?" Kaya asked leadingly. I kind of guessed I didn't have much of a choice in this. And even if I did, it was another matter whether or not I would choose that option, there was a part of me that wanted to see both of them hurt, I wondered if I could do that to someone. On the other hand, I knew for damn sure that Kaya could.

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A/N: Tell me what you think, I hope you've enjoyed it.

I spent a lot of time on this chapter to get it just right although Phoebe's section was slightly rushed, I hope you can't tell. But I am still quite proud of this chapter : )

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed or alerted or favourited, it means a lot : )

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xx.