Author's Note- Thank you to everyone who reviewed, I love knowing what people think of the stuff I write. Especially if they have a good opinion of it :D I've tried to do a good follow up, letting out slightly more of Bender's personality. Please read and review, thankies. Oh, and Fuzzles, I understand what you meant about letting people feel his pain, and will try to do so.

John knew the speech by heart now. He had performed it so well yesterday. What was it again? 'Lazy, stupid…'. He tried to leave before his father hit him. He never could. He just argued. It was stupid - he knew.

He was out now though. Walking to Tierney's house for the party. Same old, same old.

His coat kept him warm from the cold wind. As he walked his stomach ached, but he'd learnt to ignore it. It was like a stitch.

He approached the house. Tierney was loaded, his parents didn't care what he did. He paid for a lot of the weed, and had a new girlfriend every week. Bender was getting bored of the girlfriends, they were all the same. Blonde, stupid, and dressed in mini skirts.

At least his own had some differences. Enough for him to tell them apart, anyway. As though they even cared when he cried out the wrong name. They returned the favour. He had heard so many "Oh, Pete!"'s and "Oh, George"'s, Claire said that it was wrong for a guy to have more than one girl, so what about when a girl had more than one guy? Oh wait, simple - she was a slut.

He could see groups of them, kissing his friends and guys he'd never seen before. They were all the same.

He walked through the open doorway, treading carefully over the various couples and wasted individuals lying around. One was sprawled in the doorway to the kitchen. He kicked them fiercely in the stomach and waited for the groans to subside, before stepping over him.

Loud rock music pumped through the walls, it gave John a headache. He wondered what the others would be doing right now, whilst he lit up.

"Hey, Bender," a low voice called from the other room. Tierney. Bender rolled his eyes to himself and got ready to see his friend.

"Hey, asshole," he replied. Tierney was approaching, one arm wrapped around his latest girlfriend. His hair was a mop of greasy black curls, and hung over his face.

"How was Vern yesterday?" Tierney asked, seeming not to notice the blonde nuzzling his neck.

"Same son-of-a-bitch as always," John said loudly, so that he could be heard over the music.

Tierney smirked.

"Hey, Oliver, I'm gonna go get a drink," the blonde said to Tierney in a sickly sweet voice. Tierney smiled, and she left the room. Bender watched.

"Where d'you pick her up?" he asked.

"Work," he replied. Bender knew what that meant. Probably her work.

Bender looked away from his 'friend', frowning to himself. He didn't know why, but somehow he felt above that shit. Tierney must have noticed.

"What's wrong with you?" Tierney asked, angrily. Bender turned quickly to see him. He was snarling.

"Nothing - I just need some air," he said flatly. He got up and left the room before Tierney could protest.

He knew the house too well, especially the route to the roof. It was always empty, nobody else was in the right state-of-mind for climbing buildings. Upon arrival he sat down, resting his feet in the pipes. The bandanna on his shoe trailed into the waste. He looked over the edge. Not too far to fall - but far enough to die, if he landed properly. He couldn't remember how many times he'd looked down and just wished that he could topple over the edge. But something stopped him, and he didn't know what it was yet.

He stretched out against the roof tiles, closing his eyes. The background noises were slightly soothing, in a strange way. He could almost block it out entirely.

He remembered when he was a kid, how the other children talked about fishing trips with their fathers or family pets. So had he, but it hadn't been the truth. He'd tried to be like them, pretend that his life was fine. But then Lana Parker…

"You'd think it was fashionable to lie around like a bum," a female voice said. He could feel her body heat. So close. He opened his eyes.

He looked up at the girl. She was wearing far too much make up and far too few clothes. Her hair stuck up slightly, although he couldn't tell what colour in the darkness. He could see her nails, filed into sharpened points, although several were broken. A red dress with a torn strap, indicating a fight with her boyfriend or another admirer. He eased himself to a sitting position, still looking at her.

'Slut' he thought to himself.