HEY! 'sup? Wow, I'm soooooo sorry that it's taken me like, forever to update. I've just been having a few family issues, followed by a few mental blanks. NEWHO! Chapter 7 is finally up, and I promise that the next one will be up soon!

NOTE: I have one thing to say about the last chapter 'gothica', I got a review saying that they were insulted that I said that the only thing goth's say is death. Well, I only put that in, because I think that they can be very steryotyped, especially by snobby rich people, ie. Oliver. Newho, don't be trounbled, for I am also goth and know that, tha6t definitely isn't 'all' they say. NEWHO! Enjoy …….

"Bring it"

Hmmm….I contemplate my first move. Spinning my spoon in my bowl of custard. It will actually be my second move, considering the whole banana peels all over the floors didn't work, cause Piere cleaned it all up before Enrique had a chance to slip on one and break his neck on them. So my next idea has to be fool proof. Hmmmm…..

I felt a presence next to me. I glance sideways to see Enrique staring intently at my bowl of custard.

"Flem" He says bizarrely composed.

"What?" I ask, dumfounded. Sheilding my custard with my arm protectively.

"Flem" He repeats. Is there some kind of jiberish convention in town that I haven't been informed about?

"What's Flem?" I ask. He smiles faintly.

"It kinda looks like custard, but it's a mucus that comes from your mouth" Ewwww…Suddenly I have lost my appetite. I push my bowl away from me and turn from it in disgust. Enrique cheers and grabs it without hesitation.

"Score one for Enrique. Zero for Oliver!" He yells triumphantly. I smile.

"More like one for Enrique, TEN for Oliver" I sneer evilly.

"When did you get ten points?" He asked, a small amount of fear evident in his quivering voice.

"You'll see" He stands, Custard in hand, and leaves the room. I don't really have anything planned, I just want to make him paranoid. This way he's constantly going to be thinking about what I could have done, and there for :points finger: I win.

Now, I need to put my mind back to the matters of, payback. And because I am such a gentle, loving and caring person. My mind just can't think up anything that will do the deed. So I must seak help. I need the roughest, cruellest and meanest person I know…… Jonathan Macgregor.

I haven't really talked to Johnny too much since the whole 'restaurant' incident. Because he always wants to point out that it's all my fault. And that we can't really spend any time together outside this house, cause there are some pretty nasty rumours going around, after all those pictures were released to the press of us in dresses. :sighs: …the memories….I mean bad times, bad times.

"The real question, Oliver is do you want to get back together with Enrique? Or do you simply want to get back at him now?" Johnny asked. After the 17 degree incident…. It's over!

"Payback, simply payback!"

"Look, Oliver, I don't know how I can help you" Johnny said frankly. "You're a hopeless case. Your too much of a pansy….and lets just say Enrique isn't exactly all there upstairs, if ya know what I mean"

"Hey I resent that!" I argue placing my freshly manicured hands on my hips in protest, no comment. "Enrique did say something smart once when we were in bedddd……errr…..the lounge having se….playing monopoly..yes that sounds plausible" Johnny squeezes his eyes shut and started banging his head on a near by wall.

"Ahhh… PG13…PG13…." He yelled. I pulled back on his shoulder.

"Johnny, you'll give yourself a concussion" I say. He blinks a few times.

"Too late" He confesses, a little dazed.

"Don't worry about it, I have had 2 concussions …..or was it 7? But that doesn't matter, cause I'm fine now" I confirm, coincidently slipping on a stray nail filer and falling face first into the coffee table and knocking the vase of red roses on to the floor with a wet thud. Well I'm sure that looked very graceful.

Johnny rolled his eyes.

"Oliver I can only help you….." Johnny thought, as I picked myself up. "If you have no intention, none, of getting back together with him! I can't have anything holding you back!"

"I no longer have any feelings for that…..that….errr….emu…I mean…." I believe I royaly fucked up that sentence! I couldn't quite think of an insulting name for him that wasn't rude or abnormal. :sarcastically: But I must say emu is a perfect fit! What the hell made me think of emu? Johnny simply shrugged, like it was normal for something like that to come out of my mouth.

"Ok then. I'll help. But Beware. If you still like him, it will hurt you more than it hurts him!" He said with a severity that made me shudder.

Don't worry. It's over.

Johnny's thinking. He's still thinking. I don't think he has any idea of what to do to Enrique! So what can I do in the mean time? At the rate Johnny's brain works, I could have quite a while. :thinks: I need something that will thoroughly absorb me for the next few hours, it has to be entertaining, and make me feel better at the same time……:thinks harder: ……I KNOW! I'll write a list of why I'm better than Enrique! And it will be a long one. :pulls out a conveniently placed piece of paper and a pen:

:2 hours later:

Ok…. I'm going 'ok'…. I've got 3 reasons.

His hair is curly. He has blond hair. I'm better than he is!

Ok, so it's not the greatest list in the world, but I know that it will really get to him, for 3 reasons.

He hates his wispy curls. He doesn't like blond's stereotypes. And that I can sum everything up in 5 simple words.

Ok, so Enrique's really touchy about his hair, he doesn't like it, and when people knock it, it really angers him. Simply because he thinks that because he's rich, everyone else should bow down to him, NOT mock him.

Damn, now that I look at my list, and don't deny the somewhat obvious, I realise that my futile attempts to make myself feel better have only succeeded in proving that, Enrique, is better than me. I could only think of 3 things that I better him at, and only 2 of them are really true. The truth is, he is simply better then me at many things.

For example, I have to be the worst ball-throwing-person in the universe. When I throw over-arm, it ends up in the grass at my feat and that makes me look like a bloody pansy, and when I try to throw under-arm it ends up going straight over my head, in the opposite direction.

I'd like to see him cook my signature Florentine omelettes……. Hey….wait a moment. That's something I'm better than him at. COOKING! Now, to add it to the list. :writes down:

Well that makes me feel a little bit better. :pauses: oo I think I'm on a role! He's messy, stinky and ugly! Ok so maybe he's not ugly, but I sure am better looking! And yes, he is stinky, what can I say, boys will be boys.

Ok, enough of wallowing in my own self-pitty, I have other people to make miserable! Ie. Enrique.

Sorry, I know it's extremely short, esspecialy because I've had so much time to write it. But, I really have know idea what's going to happen next, I mean I know everything else that going to happen up until the end….. just not this next bit… gay ha! Oh well, life's a bitch, but we all deal.

Cya in the next chappie!

Thankyou to the reviewers!

Please keep it up!

Cass