Dislcaimer: All the usual stuff... and I own the idea, yada, yada.

Popularity Torture

I had to keep up my status, my reputation. I liked the feeling that people looked up to me, that my group wanted to be with me. I liked feeling special, different to everybody else.

Then, of course, there was the feeling of loneliness that went with it. Even if all of my 'friends' were there, I still felt alone. They just wanted to be in the popular zone. It's not like I had any real friends. I don't suppose I even know what a friend is. I'm sixteen! I'm supposed to know!

"Cordelia! Cordelia! I want you to go out!" Want, want, want. It's not like this tiny town we lived in was particularly safe! But still, my father wanted me out of the house when his 'lady friend' came round.

He didn't care that I'd been out everyday that week. Or that the only place I could go would be so empty on a Sunday night. Why couldn't this town have more than a small club? I sat in front of my mirror, wiped away my tears, and began to apply my make up.

I sat down with my drink, thinking how typical it was that hardly anyone was there. Now everyone was going to think I actually like being myself. That I had suddenly become unpopular. Me! But…part of me liked being alone. At least I had time to think.

"Hey Cordelia!" I sighed, as my 'best friend' Harmony made her way towards me. "Have you heard?" she asked. "Denton Pearson's single!" I raised my eyebrows. She definitely wants to ruin her reputation.

"You like him?" I asked.

"No! But…he is stinking rich."

"Maybe money isn't everything." Dammit. Now I've done it.

"Cordelia, sometimes I think you were born without a brain." I rolled my eyes. "Your mum married for money, your grandmother married for money. My mum married for money…what is the world without money?"

"Maybe Harmony, you should stop thinking about cash, and stop making me feel I have to copy whatever it is everyone else in my family has done, and maybe you should start thinking the same thing!"

I stormed to the door, but just as I reached it, I felt a hand on my arm. "Xander! What do you think you're doing?" I shot at him. I would loose my popularity if people even thought I was associating with him!

"What, and you think I'm gonna let you leave with tears in your eyes?" he asked. "I thought you were the one who said she never cried." I looked around.

"I'll go. Meet me outside in five minutes. I don't want people to think I'd actually leave with you."

"Come on. As I recall, you never cried, unless there was a reason behind it, and you make us all believe your life's perfect." Myself and Xander sat outside of his teeny house on the wall. Can people actually live in places like this?

"But there was a reason," I managed to say. "There were lots of reasons…it's completely pointless really."

"What is?" Xander pressed on.

"Living with my parents. Everyone thinks my life's perfect. But it's not…it's really not." It was then when I allowed myself to cry. The pain of the last year had finally come out. I could tell Xander didn't know what to do or say, but soon, he moved closer to me and put his arm around my shoulders, and I cried into his chest.

'Man, this guy works out', I thought. But, this was a guy I wasn't supposed to talk to. Wasn't supposed to like. Wasn't supposed to be sitting outside of a house with. But right now, I couldn't care less. "Xander, I don't know what to do anymore. There's no where left to run."

"Do you want to tell me about it?" he asked. I shook my head in a no. "It would probably help. Have you told anyone?" I shook my head again. "Then I understand why you don't want to tell me…but I would listen. I mean, stuff at home isn't too go for me either." I moved away from him, to let him continue. "I'd know what you were going through Cordelia. And I would care enough to listen, and try to help."

I stared at him. After all I'd said to him. The harsh words. The insults about his clothes, his friends…and he was still willing to help…of all the people it could have been. "You promise you won't tell anyone? Or laugh?" I asked him,

"I promise that. I mean it." He took my hands in his. "I hate seeing people upset…and it's so weird to see you cry…and for some reason…I think I should be the one to help."

"My…my mum is ill," I finally said. I really had to get this out. "More ill than I let on to anyone. We don't know how long she's got to live. It could be days, it could be years. She's the one person I could rely on. The one person I could tell everything to. Now, she sits in bed. She looks so frail, so helpless, and all I want to do is help her…but I can't. Nothing can."

I wiped unshed tears away. "My dad acts as if he couldn't care," I continued. "He used to love her, I know he did. He used to take her travelling. He used to take her places. We used to be a family. Now, he's on his fifth affair of this year. Jeanette Faulkner. She's a new colleague of my dad's."

"He actually wants me out of the house. He couldn't really care less if there were all these murders going on, and his only child's out of the house, just so he could cheat on her mother."

"He actually told me that. He said that if I couldn't be a loyal daughter and love him no matter what he did…he said maybe I should be dead. He said the family had a meaning, a tradition, a reputation…I wasn't holding onto that reputation. I was taking it down."

"I want to be a fully functional family. I know that not one is perfect, but at least some are marginally okay. Mine is so awful…I don't ever want to go back home. I don't want to see my dad anymore…"

It was then when Xander pulled me into a hug. I cried softly into his shoulder, my fingers playing with his dark hair. "What you gonna do when you go home?" he asked as we broke apart.

"I don't know. I probably won't bother. I'll go round Harmony's or something."

"But I thought you had an argument with her?"

"Yeah, but she wants to stay in the 'popular zone' doesn't she?"

"True." Xander took one of my hands. "I know you don't want me to, but I will worry about you. I want to know everything's going to be okay when you go home."

"Then don't think about me. I'll be fine. I know how to handle my dad." He glanced up at the house.

"I'm glad you can…" he muttered.

"What do you mean? I asked.

"My dad's a bit of an alcoholic. He'll hit me and my mum. Not very often, but it does happen, So, when I say I know how you feel, I'm not lying.

"I know." I sighed. "I better get going. You promise not to tell anyone about this?"

"Only if you do."

"I want to pretend that nothing's changed. Agree?" He nodded.

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea as well." He smiled slightly.

"I'll see you at school I suppose."

"Bye Cordelia." I got up, and walked away.

One of the last things she ever did was cry. I knelt at the side of her large canopy bed, holding my mother's hand. "You're going to be alright," I said softly. "You're going to be fine." I think I was more comforting myself.

"Cordelia, listen to me. Your father means well. He really does. I'm not blind. I know what's been going on. But I want you to promise me something?" I nodded. The tears drifted down her face. "Don't cry."

My mother buried her head more into her pillows and another tear slid down her face. And I knew she was gone. My mother was dead. And I could never forgive myself for it.

"Cordelia!" Harmony. What gave her the right to act as if nothing had happened, nothing had changed? I turned to face her. "You look terrible! My mum told me what happened, and I'm really sorry about it. You should take the day off school. But anyway, the funeral's next week, and I thought we could buy you an outfit together?"

"Harmony, I don't think you get it! My mum's just died. I cared about her so much. . .I don't want to go shopping with you. Not now, not for a while. Deal with it!"

My eyes opened suddenly. I caught the smell of a hospital ward. I looked up at the face of Xander. "God, I thought we'd lost you," he said, kissing my forehead.

"You were right there with me. The whole time," I said smiling. My past had left me. And I could finally move on."