November 8
There has been a certain circumstance that I refuse to actually consider. Must I write any more than deprives from my point??
REMY READ MY DIARY!!!!
Okay, there's something apparently wrong here. I obviously can't hide anything right, the evidence under my bed and inside my teddy bear (which is where I kept the diary).
And yet, I still write.
I came into the room after the worst day in school (I've seen better days, which I can tell you ain't many) and saw LeBeau sitting on the bed ([sitting on the bed] I sleep on! Must remember is sanitize the sheets after I write) and was gonna say what was he doing, when I noticed what he was reading (my diary) and screamed. He looked up, and his expression don't change from when he was still reading it. (READING MY DIARY!!! DOES NO ONE SEE THE CRISIS HERE!!!??) Then he stood up and said, " Well, now I know everything." And dropped my precious diary on the bed and walked past me.
One question. Why is HE angry?! Wasn't I just angry for him reading my (MY!!!) personal thoughts and dreams? and then he gets up and is angry with me.
I'm the one supposed to be angry!!! And let me tell you something: I still AM!
I wonder how much he's read.
Later
I just read over what I wrote. And none of it is good.
OMG! What if he read that I was the one who burned his cards????
Of course he read it! How unapparent and visible is that entry?!!!
This is not good.
November 9, 2 a.m.
I can't sleep. I've been debating whether I should get rid of the evidence or should lock myself in the closet and die from anguish. And why am I still writing??!! This is what caused me to be in denial in the first place!!!
I'm taking a trip to the fireplace.
November 9, 6 a.m.
I'm being blackmailed by LeBeau.
--This is where I cuss uncontrollably until I run out of words to say--
I went downstairs to the fireplace and tossed a few sparks in the pit before it finally lit. I was actually talking to the fire (laughs mockingly).
It was taunting me, the orange flickers, saying this is where you burned the damned cards of Remy LeBeau. This is where your turmoil and suffering begin.
"No it isn't! It can't be!" I remember saying. And was about to fling my diary into the flame when I heard someone laugh. Loud and obnoxious like only one could match it: Pietro. But it wasn't Pietro that was laughing, oh no. It wasn't even close, though I wish it had been him. It was LeBeau. The betrayer, the merciless and untrusting bastard who came from behind and told me to save the diary for I would need it in the end. That's when I exploded.
"You stupid imbecile! How DARE you Read my personal thoughts and dealings!" I yelled, and Remy took out a bunch of cards. Bicycle, no doubt. Then he started throwing them one by one into the orange flickers of the fire. I watched, dumbfounded.
"And it was a good thing I did too," he said, stonely, his hand going back and forth like a reflex for the flame. "You did done burned my cards, and never been confronted." Then I understood - he was mocking me with him cards and that flame.
"This how you done burned 'em, eh Rogue?" He said, suddenly flinging the whole deck into the fire. "Or that?" The orange fire flickered in its feed.
"Shut up," I said lowly, but knew he wouldn't. Not when he was on a roll.
"So, you know's what now?" He said, circling me, his face only inches away. I could've grabbed it in my hands and drained his thoughts, but I panicked. I wasn't thinking straight, though now I regret it.
"You's gonna do something for me or I'll be telling Xavier 'bout this whole.. how do you call it here? Mishap." He was blackmailing me. For once, I was actually scared.
"Tell me something, Rogue," he said, suddenly stopping in front of me, "is Scott as dense as he seems?"
From that sentence, I knew this wasn't leading anywhere good.
"He can be," I said truthfully.
"And that provided with that of you like the guy," - I cringed at him knowing that- "you could help me."
Okay, what is wrong with these people? Is it use Rogue as reuseable toilet paper until she breaks in half??!! Why does everyone have to USE me?! It naturally sucks to be me.
"With what? Your English?" I asked.
He ignored the sarcasm. "Get him away from Jean."
"That's impossible! Scott practicly lives off Jean. He might share a brain with her if she would comply."
Remy stifled a small laugh and turned away from me. "So?" His voice was like the cold that iced my nose. I was freezing but kept the chattering to myself.
"No." It came out stiff, I remember. Flat and out there.
And he actually had the audacity to frown.
"What was that? Love takin' o'er you's brain, Roguie?" LeBeau said. It made sense. But I wasn't going to counter act with Remy. Not in my lifetime, no.
"I won't work for no low-life like you trying to make Jean his and leave Scott in ashes."
"But ain't you t'e one who wants him?" Silence. I hate it when LeBeau's right. "You know's you ain't gots no choice."
Again with the working for counter acting of sides. But this time I complied.
So, how in the world does someone help another to get a girl at the same time the girl's guy is blackmailing you into keep that other guy away?
This is a job for --Rogue--!!
November 10
I'm in one of those moods that aren't too happy but aren't really close to upset. I ate with Ritzy at lunch and told her about last night.
"So, he's using you too, huh?" she muttered between bites. I watched her chew and gurgled at the question.
"It could've been worse, ya understand?"
She nodded and looked at me with a cocked eye. "Perhaps," she noted, putting down her fork, "that this 'LeBeau' is quite manipulative should I say not?"
"Perhaps," I said, taking a leaf from her salad and throwing it into my mouth.
"So why not plant a bomb into the one already ticking?"
"Because you're forgetting he's smart too."
"Smart for his own good?" I looked at her. She smiled and took up her tray. "Listen, Rogue. If you know what you're dealing with, believe me, LeBeau wouldn't hold off telling Xavier about you. From what I know, he'd forget the blackmailing part and go directly to Xavier."
"And?" I didn't understand.
"And," she sighed, ignorant and failing, "I think he has something for you."
That caught me off guard for the moment. "Excuse me, since when does Jean's boyfriend have the hots for me??"
"Think of the possibilities," she said, throwing away her trash. "He reads your diary, he's obviously stalking you, and he's blackmailing you."
"Maybe it's because he CAN?" Ritzy can be so compulsive sometimes.
"Probably," she said, and walked the other way. "Think about, all right?"
I'm thinking about it, and damn, I have been for FOUR hours already and came up with NOTHING. Ritzy is just stupid. And if she's trying to make me feel better, I don't think having LeBeau "liking" me is.
November 11
Kurt said that Remy wants to see me. Oh no. Now Kurt's a henchman of his??!!
Later
When I got there, Kurt knocked on the door and we heard a "come in", so we did. Remy was sitting behind his desk with his blinds open and curtains apart, flooding the whole room with light and an unsuspecting doom that I only knew of. Remy himself faced us with the back of his chair and I heard him grunt. Kurt immediately stalked away, that tail of his wagging as he closed the door.
I exploded, daresay.
"What are you doing to him?!What have you got on him? Is he high? Is he on some spell you put? Is it BlackMAGIC???"
Remy suddenly got off his chair, and after a brief silence, walked to the front of his desk.
"You," he said, and I was surprised he didn't point his finger at me to get his point across.
"Rogue." I mentioned. He might as well know my name.
"You," he repeated, dimly and annoyed. He started pacing the floor slowly. "Have business with me. Have eh seat."
I looked down. There was a seat. I swear, it wasn't there when I came in.
"No thanks," I said, stubbornly. Not the ol' phrase that you see in those business movies.
"Sit," he said, calmly. I looked away.
"We can talk as I stand." A deliberate silence.
"Fine." He said. And sat down. "But you can't sits for de while."
"Fine." It didn't matter. Not at the moment, no.
"As you know, I's scanned the evidence and understand you's," -I was surprised again that he didn't point- " burned me cards."
"What does it matter?" I asked, which was obviously the wrong question to actually ask.
"Excuse ME??" he stormed, suddenly getting up and planting his hands on the desk. "ME CARDS IS MY LIFE! HAVE YOU NO CONSCIENCE IN THET BRAIN OF YOURS, GIRL???!!!" Than he straightened his his collar of his trench coat, cleared his throat, regained his posture, and sat down again.
And for the first time in the whole time that he's stayed with us, I noticed he had red eyes. How come nobody tells me these things? (must remember to ask Kitty if she's noticed)
"So," he said, taking out a stack of cards (I swear, he never runs out of them), "I--"
"Haven't we been through this already? I know what I'm to do," I said, taking a step back and turning to go.
"Yea, but do you know of what?" He leaned forward oppressivingly. "Or are you's scared?"
"Scared? I think the correct word to use here would be freaked out at the moment," I said, placing my own hands on the table, "no student in the whole Institute calls a personal meeting in his room, behind a desk, making it look like the set of "Three to Tango" ! No! No one! What's more, it's of a blackmail! A blackmail! Does no one see what's wrong? And I'm still writhing under why you've made Kurt your personal door knocker/answering person!" I stopped, out of breath. Remy watched, with a disturbed look on his face. But I think he was looking at where my hands were at the moment and didn't give a damn about what I just said.
Then he did the incredulous.
He laughed.
And it wasn't a normal chortle or chuckle, in any case, mind you. It was an uproar of a laugh that was stopped almost in a second and blasted at full force into a yell. Before I knew it, he had lighted a card and thrown it. I thought it would explode, but it didn't. Confused? Not anymore than I was. Remy wasn't though. Or least he didn't show it. He was as calm and collected as Jean was when she broke up with Duncan.
Coincidence? I think not.
"List'n Rogue," Remy said, getting up again, "I's need your help." Not this again. "As you know, Jean's birthday be coming up, and de fact thet Scott and I are -competing- " he said this with the finger motions "over her..."
"What's your point LeBeau," I said, crossing my arms, "You've already won her."
"So here's the thing, that dratted Scott's got somethin' up his sleeve and Jean knows about it and keeps taunting me thet his gift will be better than mine, so find out what Scott's gift is and tell me so I can get something better!" Evil laughter. I watched, peevishly and irritated, until Remy got back to his senses and said, "You may go now." I walked away, rolling my eyes. Then as I opened the door, Kurt walked in, and I heard Remy say, "Kurt, could you go get some Windex or something to wipe my desk? Not all of the fingerprints are mine," before I slammed the door and walked away.
All of this comes with a price, I must remember.
It better be worth all this crap, though.
...........................................................................................
tbc
There has been a certain circumstance that I refuse to actually consider. Must I write any more than deprives from my point??
REMY READ MY DIARY!!!!
Okay, there's something apparently wrong here. I obviously can't hide anything right, the evidence under my bed and inside my teddy bear (which is where I kept the diary).
And yet, I still write.
I came into the room after the worst day in school (I've seen better days, which I can tell you ain't many) and saw LeBeau sitting on the bed ([sitting on the bed] I sleep on! Must remember is sanitize the sheets after I write) and was gonna say what was he doing, when I noticed what he was reading (my diary) and screamed. He looked up, and his expression don't change from when he was still reading it. (READING MY DIARY!!! DOES NO ONE SEE THE CRISIS HERE!!!??) Then he stood up and said, " Well, now I know everything." And dropped my precious diary on the bed and walked past me.
One question. Why is HE angry?! Wasn't I just angry for him reading my (MY!!!) personal thoughts and dreams? and then he gets up and is angry with me.
I'm the one supposed to be angry!!! And let me tell you something: I still AM!
I wonder how much he's read.
Later
I just read over what I wrote. And none of it is good.
OMG! What if he read that I was the one who burned his cards????
Of course he read it! How unapparent and visible is that entry?!!!
This is not good.
November 9, 2 a.m.
I can't sleep. I've been debating whether I should get rid of the evidence or should lock myself in the closet and die from anguish. And why am I still writing??!! This is what caused me to be in denial in the first place!!!
I'm taking a trip to the fireplace.
November 9, 6 a.m.
I'm being blackmailed by LeBeau.
--This is where I cuss uncontrollably until I run out of words to say--
I went downstairs to the fireplace and tossed a few sparks in the pit before it finally lit. I was actually talking to the fire (laughs mockingly).
It was taunting me, the orange flickers, saying this is where you burned the damned cards of Remy LeBeau. This is where your turmoil and suffering begin.
"No it isn't! It can't be!" I remember saying. And was about to fling my diary into the flame when I heard someone laugh. Loud and obnoxious like only one could match it: Pietro. But it wasn't Pietro that was laughing, oh no. It wasn't even close, though I wish it had been him. It was LeBeau. The betrayer, the merciless and untrusting bastard who came from behind and told me to save the diary for I would need it in the end. That's when I exploded.
"You stupid imbecile! How DARE you Read my personal thoughts and dealings!" I yelled, and Remy took out a bunch of cards. Bicycle, no doubt. Then he started throwing them one by one into the orange flickers of the fire. I watched, dumbfounded.
"And it was a good thing I did too," he said, stonely, his hand going back and forth like a reflex for the flame. "You did done burned my cards, and never been confronted." Then I understood - he was mocking me with him cards and that flame.
"This how you done burned 'em, eh Rogue?" He said, suddenly flinging the whole deck into the fire. "Or that?" The orange fire flickered in its feed.
"Shut up," I said lowly, but knew he wouldn't. Not when he was on a roll.
"So, you know's what now?" He said, circling me, his face only inches away. I could've grabbed it in my hands and drained his thoughts, but I panicked. I wasn't thinking straight, though now I regret it.
"You's gonna do something for me or I'll be telling Xavier 'bout this whole.. how do you call it here? Mishap." He was blackmailing me. For once, I was actually scared.
"Tell me something, Rogue," he said, suddenly stopping in front of me, "is Scott as dense as he seems?"
From that sentence, I knew this wasn't leading anywhere good.
"He can be," I said truthfully.
"And that provided with that of you like the guy," - I cringed at him knowing that- "you could help me."
Okay, what is wrong with these people? Is it use Rogue as reuseable toilet paper until she breaks in half??!! Why does everyone have to USE me?! It naturally sucks to be me.
"With what? Your English?" I asked.
He ignored the sarcasm. "Get him away from Jean."
"That's impossible! Scott practicly lives off Jean. He might share a brain with her if she would comply."
Remy stifled a small laugh and turned away from me. "So?" His voice was like the cold that iced my nose. I was freezing but kept the chattering to myself.
"No." It came out stiff, I remember. Flat and out there.
And he actually had the audacity to frown.
"What was that? Love takin' o'er you's brain, Roguie?" LeBeau said. It made sense. But I wasn't going to counter act with Remy. Not in my lifetime, no.
"I won't work for no low-life like you trying to make Jean his and leave Scott in ashes."
"But ain't you t'e one who wants him?" Silence. I hate it when LeBeau's right. "You know's you ain't gots no choice."
Again with the working for counter acting of sides. But this time I complied.
So, how in the world does someone help another to get a girl at the same time the girl's guy is blackmailing you into keep that other guy away?
This is a job for --Rogue--!!
November 10
I'm in one of those moods that aren't too happy but aren't really close to upset. I ate with Ritzy at lunch and told her about last night.
"So, he's using you too, huh?" she muttered between bites. I watched her chew and gurgled at the question.
"It could've been worse, ya understand?"
She nodded and looked at me with a cocked eye. "Perhaps," she noted, putting down her fork, "that this 'LeBeau' is quite manipulative should I say not?"
"Perhaps," I said, taking a leaf from her salad and throwing it into my mouth.
"So why not plant a bomb into the one already ticking?"
"Because you're forgetting he's smart too."
"Smart for his own good?" I looked at her. She smiled and took up her tray. "Listen, Rogue. If you know what you're dealing with, believe me, LeBeau wouldn't hold off telling Xavier about you. From what I know, he'd forget the blackmailing part and go directly to Xavier."
"And?" I didn't understand.
"And," she sighed, ignorant and failing, "I think he has something for you."
That caught me off guard for the moment. "Excuse me, since when does Jean's boyfriend have the hots for me??"
"Think of the possibilities," she said, throwing away her trash. "He reads your diary, he's obviously stalking you, and he's blackmailing you."
"Maybe it's because he CAN?" Ritzy can be so compulsive sometimes.
"Probably," she said, and walked the other way. "Think about, all right?"
I'm thinking about it, and damn, I have been for FOUR hours already and came up with NOTHING. Ritzy is just stupid. And if she's trying to make me feel better, I don't think having LeBeau "liking" me is.
November 11
Kurt said that Remy wants to see me. Oh no. Now Kurt's a henchman of his??!!
Later
When I got there, Kurt knocked on the door and we heard a "come in", so we did. Remy was sitting behind his desk with his blinds open and curtains apart, flooding the whole room with light and an unsuspecting doom that I only knew of. Remy himself faced us with the back of his chair and I heard him grunt. Kurt immediately stalked away, that tail of his wagging as he closed the door.
I exploded, daresay.
"What are you doing to him?!What have you got on him? Is he high? Is he on some spell you put? Is it BlackMAGIC???"
Remy suddenly got off his chair, and after a brief silence, walked to the front of his desk.
"You," he said, and I was surprised he didn't point his finger at me to get his point across.
"Rogue." I mentioned. He might as well know my name.
"You," he repeated, dimly and annoyed. He started pacing the floor slowly. "Have business with me. Have eh seat."
I looked down. There was a seat. I swear, it wasn't there when I came in.
"No thanks," I said, stubbornly. Not the ol' phrase that you see in those business movies.
"Sit," he said, calmly. I looked away.
"We can talk as I stand." A deliberate silence.
"Fine." He said. And sat down. "But you can't sits for de while."
"Fine." It didn't matter. Not at the moment, no.
"As you know, I's scanned the evidence and understand you's," -I was surprised again that he didn't point- " burned me cards."
"What does it matter?" I asked, which was obviously the wrong question to actually ask.
"Excuse ME??" he stormed, suddenly getting up and planting his hands on the desk. "ME CARDS IS MY LIFE! HAVE YOU NO CONSCIENCE IN THET BRAIN OF YOURS, GIRL???!!!" Than he straightened his his collar of his trench coat, cleared his throat, regained his posture, and sat down again.
And for the first time in the whole time that he's stayed with us, I noticed he had red eyes. How come nobody tells me these things? (must remember to ask Kitty if she's noticed)
"So," he said, taking out a stack of cards (I swear, he never runs out of them), "I--"
"Haven't we been through this already? I know what I'm to do," I said, taking a step back and turning to go.
"Yea, but do you know of what?" He leaned forward oppressivingly. "Or are you's scared?"
"Scared? I think the correct word to use here would be freaked out at the moment," I said, placing my own hands on the table, "no student in the whole Institute calls a personal meeting in his room, behind a desk, making it look like the set of "Three to Tango" ! No! No one! What's more, it's of a blackmail! A blackmail! Does no one see what's wrong? And I'm still writhing under why you've made Kurt your personal door knocker/answering person!" I stopped, out of breath. Remy watched, with a disturbed look on his face. But I think he was looking at where my hands were at the moment and didn't give a damn about what I just said.
Then he did the incredulous.
He laughed.
And it wasn't a normal chortle or chuckle, in any case, mind you. It was an uproar of a laugh that was stopped almost in a second and blasted at full force into a yell. Before I knew it, he had lighted a card and thrown it. I thought it would explode, but it didn't. Confused? Not anymore than I was. Remy wasn't though. Or least he didn't show it. He was as calm and collected as Jean was when she broke up with Duncan.
Coincidence? I think not.
"List'n Rogue," Remy said, getting up again, "I's need your help." Not this again. "As you know, Jean's birthday be coming up, and de fact thet Scott and I are -competing- " he said this with the finger motions "over her..."
"What's your point LeBeau," I said, crossing my arms, "You've already won her."
"So here's the thing, that dratted Scott's got somethin' up his sleeve and Jean knows about it and keeps taunting me thet his gift will be better than mine, so find out what Scott's gift is and tell me so I can get something better!" Evil laughter. I watched, peevishly and irritated, until Remy got back to his senses and said, "You may go now." I walked away, rolling my eyes. Then as I opened the door, Kurt walked in, and I heard Remy say, "Kurt, could you go get some Windex or something to wipe my desk? Not all of the fingerprints are mine," before I slammed the door and walked away.
All of this comes with a price, I must remember.
It better be worth all this crap, though.
...........................................................................................
tbc