Oh my goodness, the first day I posted and I got three reviews within, like, three hours. I'm actually quite happy! Thank you all so much for your kind reviews. I'm glad that you all took it so well! Oh, yes, just a quick little note, I forgot to mention this back in, like, chapter 14 (I believe). The idea for the sexy, red stilettos was actually inspired by DatGurlNesha's lovely fic I Want U, which is one amazing fic. Also, if you check her profile, ( she has recently come out with a sequel to this fic, and I suggest you read it; it's already amazing! You can always expect great things from her! (Not like she really needs me to advertise anyways, haha).

Anyways, here is Chapter 19. Hopefully, I will be able to finish this story soon! It seems to be going on for forever! Which means that I'm super sorry that it's so long. But I've read some that are, like, 30 chapters, and they're chapters were twice as long as mine. How they did it, I have no clue! Haha.

Chapter 19

Breaking and Healing

Their expressions were mixed, some blushing vividly, recognizing the woman of their fantasies to be their best friend, while others were confused, blinking at the image on wonder, while flitting their eyes back and forth to the picture and their best friends, wondering curiously whether that friend was actually a nude model.

"Whore."

Revulsion twisted Sora's face in an infuriated snarl, her eyes shining like fiery embers that had become alit with anger and disgust. Her mouth curled viciously in a repulsed scowl, her brows knitted together with the same rage that coursed through her veins, giving her the power and strength she needed to repeat the crude word.

"You filthy whore." She spat the words in Mimi's direction, who had grown paler than usual, her stomach dropping down to her feet. But Sora did not heed the warning signs of a possible mental breakdown. "How … how could you think this is beautiful? Only sluts do this!" She picked up the magazine, waving it around furiously. "You're nothing but one of them! A whore!" Flipping through the magazine, she found the index, and gaped. "Centerfold, too? What? Is it a picture of you with your legs spread wide open? How many times have you fucked people working for Playboy? I bet you even fuck the girls!" She threw the magazine viciously at Mimi, who was furiously blinking away tears. "You're nothing to me. Nothing but a fucking whore."

At that, Sora stood and gathered her jacket. "Tai. We're leaving. Now!"

Tai glanced apologetically at Mimi and the rest of the group, his eyes showing sheer embarrassment and guilt for Sora's behaviour. Mouthing the words 'I'm sorry', he got up and rushed after Sora, gathering their gifts, and his jacket, before closing the apartment door behind him.

Silence filled the room, tense and tight, as though someone had just died and no one knew how to react. All eyes were on anything but Mimi, who simply sat on the carpeted floor, eyes downcast, glancing at the magazine cover, the image she thought was beautiful.

"Well, uh, oh, look at the time. I guess we better get going, I have to work early tomorrow, and Takeru has to pick me up." Kari stood up, picking up her gifts. "Thanks for the great time. It was awesome, and thanks so much for the presents. I love them. Merry Christmas everyone. Bye."

Takeru followed suit, saying a quick thanks and a kind goodbye, before quickly following Kari out. Soon, Jou muttered his own goodbyes, and Izzy followed suit, leaving Matt and Mimi alone.

She sat on the ground, looking at the magazine, unaware of her surroundings, unaware of their words, their kindness, their gentle touches, sweet embraces. She didn't hear them whisper their soft goodbyes, and was vaguely aware that their presence was no longer there. Her heart thumped dully against her chest, as though all life had been sucked out of it, the muscle aching, trying in sheer agony to last long enough for the next pump, and the next. Her lungs strived for air, her throat feeling constricted, disallowing access to her twin organs, as they yearned to breathe, to fill up with air and spread it through her body. Her mind was shut, blank, and empty, except for the words that were repeated endlessly, like a broken record.

Whore.

Slut.

You're nothing but one of them.

You're nothing but a slut.

And so the rhythm, the ceaseless circle of cruelty continued, never ending, lasting for eternity, continuously torturing her into a slow, mental shutdown, bringing her to the very brink of insanity.

Whore.

'I am really a whore … a fucking slut. I go off, sleep with Matt, and then tell everyone I work for Playboy. I'm a fucking lying, piece of shit whore.'

She was unaware of the tears that streamed down her cold cheeks; her taste buds did not register the faint, salty tang of her eyes' rain, her hands completely oblivious to the feel of the repeated tap-tap of the drops hitting her bare flesh. A headache was gradually increasing in strength, but she was utterly oblivious to the pain of the sharp, stabbing pulses that vibrated throughout her entire head.

She was clueless of Matt's movement, as he rose and gathered the tray, placing it in the sink, before putting their gifts away in their rooms. She barely felt the warm, security of his arms embracing her body in a kind, comforting hug, holding her tightly against him.

His eyes were angry, violent blue in her mind, bright and furious, disgusted and repulsed, glowing viciously in the darkness of her mind. His mouth was a thin line, and slowly formed the malicious words, mouthing them to her, whispering them in fury, shouting them in absolute rage. His grip was rough, his hands callused, his short nails digging angrily into her flesh, as he held onto her arms, shaking her violently with each, shouted word. His breath sent shivers of fear spiraling down her spine as it tickled against her ear, slowly trailing down her throat, causing bile to rise up, and she found herself choking it back down.

He would grab her, hit her, he would try to touch her, and she would recoil until he beat her into oblivion. She gasped for air, blood trickling from her lips, her mouth swollen and bruised, body shaking with sheer terror and adrenaline.

He caught her as she fell forward, but this time, his touch had changed, it was softer, gentler, soothing and tender. His thumbs rubbed her arms tenderly as he slowly brought her back to him, his heartbeat steady against her back, his breath soft and loving against the flesh of her neck and face.

Her tormented, whiskey eyes opened, and she saw, through her thick lashes coated with tears, his blue, blue eyes. But these weren't angry oceans filled with fury and revulsion. No, these eyes were the very opposite; they were kind and caring, tender and soothing, comforting and warm, like a cool, safe ocean on a warm summer day. There was no hate, no disgust, and no crude words forming in his mind; there was only sheer love and pride.

But they were so like the eyes in her mind, the eyes of her nightmares, so blue, so much like oceans, but she knew, just simply knew that these ones were different. They were brighter, happier, softer and gentler, while the other eyes were darker, angrier, cruder, and consumed with malicious intent. She knew which eyes she liked better … which ones she loved.

But the other eyes tormented her, haunted her, whether she was conscious or not, they were there, always following her, watching and scrutinizing her every movement, cursing her for being nothing but a … slut. Glaring at her through the darkness, condemning her for being useless and vain, telling her, without words, that she was nothing to him, nothing but a pathetic, worthless whore.

She tried to tell him, ached to tell him, that she was not what he claimed her to be … that she was not worthless, that she held some value, and that she would never, ever sleep around, but he would not listen. She sobbed, begged, fell to her knees and screamed for him to listen, for him not to judge her on what she did, but he refused her every plea. He knew what she was, and he would not let anyone else tell him otherwise; she really was nothing but a pathetic, whore.

"Mimi."

The voice was a soft murmur in her mind, gently beckoning her back to reality, trying to slowly bring light into her void of darkness, self-hatred, and depression. This was not like his voice, this one was tender, filled with love and care, and would never dare spit out crude words at her. This one was sweet and loving, filled with pride of being hers, filled with knowledge that she was not what he had called her.

"Mimi."

Slowly, small beams of light began to break into her cavern of woes, increasing in brightness as her name was spoken again and again, slowly illuminating her world, chasing away the shadows of shame and embarrassment, preying on them like they were nothing but pathetic, little creatures that did not deserve to exist.

"Matt … "

His eyes were back, but this time, they were surrounded by light, by tenderness and love, and they were filled with nothing short of love and anxiety. He worried about her, cared for her, and loved her for who she was. He told her that he was not judgmental, that he would not condemn her for her choice of occupation, and that he would love her no matter what.

Her body was crushed by his embrace, his arms tightening around her body, his face buried in her hair. His voice was choked, muffled by her hair and throat. "Please … don't do that again."

Her eyes widened with shock, and she felt her stomach fall to her toes at the sound of utter fear in his voice. Guilt twisted at her stomach, and she let her eyes fall down to the carpeted floor. "I'm sorry … "

He pulled away, and she instantly felt his warm hands touching her face, embracing her skin tenderly, moving in soft, sweet lines along her cheeks, down her throat, wiping away the moisture that had fallen from her eyes. "You were so … pale. You were barely breathing … I thought you were going to pass out or something … I had no clue what was going on …" He ran his hands through her hair, replacing his touch with soft, sweet kisses. "I was just so scared of losing you."

"Oh Matt," she choked, sobs rising from her throat, and she buried her face against his throat. "Oh Matt! I'm so sorry. I … I didn't know what was going on either. I'm just so sorry."

He held her tightly, gently rubbing her back, placing soft kisses on her hair, reveling in her sweet scent, murmuring tender words of kindness and comfort. "It's all right now … you'll be okay."

She shook her head violently against his throat, the tears increasing tenfold. "No, I won't. Sora hates me."

A heavy sigh left his lips, and he gently pulled away from her, framing her face in his hands, gazing in his moist, whiskey eyes. "Mimi, she doesn't hate you. She's just … confused right now. You know how she can be a bit judgmental from time to time. It'll be all right."

"I hope so."

The days since Christmas were long, filled with endless chores, constant cleaning and ceaseless hours of sobbing. The tree was down, and New Year's was just a day away, and preparations were being done for the large ceremony. The guests had all confirmed, even Tai, except for one.

Sora.

She didn't want to apologize, but at the same time she did, and Mimi constantly found herself wandering through the apartment's hallways, ending up right in front of Sora's apartment door, waiting patiently, nerves tightening her body, for something … but in the end, she waited for nothing. She always fled, rushing away as fast as she could without noise, flinging herself in Matt's arms to sob away the pain, the agony she felt at the lost of her one true best friend.

Sora had been there for her through thick and thin, especially after their first adventure. She had always stood up for poor Mimi, who was constantly teased ruthlessly, who was always being tortured for maturing late, or for being a touch too happy and bubbly. Sora had always been the strong one, the one defending her against all enemies, and now … she put herself in the same boat as those enemies.

She cursed her, shouted at her, called her infamously crude names, called her crude obscenities that Mimi did not know Sora knew of. Sora had always been so sweet, so innocent, so caring and understanding. This new change, this new light of Sora, had caused nothing but pain and confusion in Mimi since the day the words were spoken.

Tai had come by since, apologizing profusely, running his hands through his mussed hair, hugging Mimi tightly, telling her how sorry he was, how he would try and speak to Sora, to get it through her thick skull that Mimi was not a whore for modeling. Mimi had simply nodded and accepted the kind hugs, before sobbing in Matt's arms once the brunet had left.

The others had come by, too, Takeru and Kari, telling Mimi how proud they were that she had not been afraid to show her occupation, actually happy that she had such self-esteem to do such a job. Jou had hugged her, before confessing that he actually had a couple of copies of the magazine, and had never noticed that his favourite, nicknamed Playboy model Mitzi, was in fact his old crush Mimi. Izzy had blushed darkly, telling Mimi that he had no clue she was so confident in her body to show it off in such ways. He, too, had seen one magazine cover with her on it, and had bought it because he felt she was beautiful. He said that he probably would never look at it the same way, seeing as it was his best friend.

Mimi had blushed darkly through all of the compliments, a part of her happy that at least they understood why she did it, they thought that she was beautiful and not some worthless whore. She felt the happiness increase as they told her they would be available for the big, New Years' party she would be throwing, stating that they would not miss it for the world.

Finally, the day had come, and, all tears having been shed, all headaches chased away with ibuprofen and Matt's tender touch and endless kisses, she was ready to face her friends, ready for a night of fun and excitement.

If only Sora would be there.

She stood in the living room, wearing a simple pair of black, leather pants, and the black corset Kari had given her for Christmas. The corset fit snugly about her torso, pushing her breasts up just enough to create the perfect amount of sensual cleavage, but leaving quite a bit to the imagination.

Matt was wearing a simple pair of black jeans, and he held her hand, watching as she fiddled with the sleeve of his red, long-sleeved shirt, which she had professed to love ever so much, seeing as it unbuttoned, and made his blue eyes stand out vividly.

Kissing her cheek gently, he whispered to her, telling her to check on the mix of hors d'oeuvres cooking in the oven, which were quite the mix of Japanese and American style. Nodding, she turned and left, and, as she pulled out the tray to turn them over, the doorbell rang.

Matt answered it, and a few hushed words were spoken, before the sound of footsteps neared the kitchen. Sliding the tray back into the oven, Mimi stood and turned around, the smile on her face falling dramatically as she noted the auburn-haired girl standing in the doorway.

"Sora."

The girl stepped forward, wringing her hands in obvious apprehension, looking down at the tiled floor of the kitchen, worry aglow in her chocolate eyes. Her feet shifted nervously, fidgeting with the hem of her jeans, while she continued to gaze down, face slightly paler than normal with obvious fear and worry.

"What do you want?"

She nearly spat the words, fury instantly aglow in her vibrant eyes, before turning her back to the girl, changing the temperature of the oven, and setting the timer, doing anything she could to distract herself from the being that stood behind her.

"I, uh, I just want to know something … just one little thing." She heard Sora step forward apprehensively, heard the faint sound of her weight on the floor. "I, just, well … want to know … how."

"How what?"

She kept her back to her, turning to the fridge, opening it and pulling out ingredients for the traditional Japanese osechi. Pulling open drawers, she fumbled through them in search of kitchen utensils that would be used to create the dish.

"Well, what do you want me to tell you? That I was randomly stripping in a bar, and some skanky Playboy model saw me, and suggested I go model for Hugh? Or do you want to hear the real story? The one where I'm not stripping? Or do you want to hear the one that condemns me? Make up your mind, and fast. I'm short on patience today."

She heard Matt move away from the kitchen, giving them the privacy they needed for this conversation. Mimi knew that their rift in friendship had only lasted a mere time length of five days, but it had felt like forever, giving her time to gradually replace the woe and guilt into a hatred that poured towards Sora.

"I want, uh … I want the truth."

Mimi turned, daring one glance at the terrified girl, and caught sight of a painful, twisted expression; eyes shimmering with unshed tears and anxiety, hands constantly twisting and fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

Turning back, she began to chop up piece of avocado, focusing intently on the task as she told her tale. "I was working in a hotel, and I quit; my hours weren't that great, and I was always working overtime. Michael and I had just started dating, and it was really hard to see each other, so I quit. On my last day of work, I was helping set up rooms for Hugh and a few of his models, who would be staying in town for a few days." She switched the avocado for cucumber. "I met with him personally, and he told me I was very pretty and all. He offered for me to come out and do a test shoot, without even asking questions about my social life, my financial status, nothing. He just said that I was a really nice girl, and very beautiful, and that it would be nice to see someone who wasn't just some dirty-minded, crude woman with fake breasts trying to work for him.

"So, I went to work for him, I did a couple photo shoots, he said I was a natural, that I was so confident, that I had a body some girls would kill for, and he offered me a full time job. Just after one shoot."

"So, just like that … you went to work for him? No sending in video tapes, no sleeping with anyone?"

"Obviously not!" She tossed the cucumber into a bowl, turning to cutting up some sweet potato, preparing it to be boiled and mashed for kurikinton. "If you really want to know, go ahead and ask Matt how much I fucking slept around. Ask him how I was virgin up until a few nights ago, and then come back and call me a whore. See how it fits your accusations. See how fucking smart you feel, thinking I'm nothing but a whore." The knife hit the cutting board sharply. "The two of you are both wrong."

Sora frowned at the word 'two', but decided not to ask. Instead, she took another tentative step forward, watching as Mimi sliced up the potatoes with perfect precision, even as her hands shook with obvious, chained rage and hurt. "Can you tell me why?"

She wanted to turn and snarl at the girl, wanted to scream at her, tell her to go away, to leave her alone, but she couldn't; she still cared for Sora, she still considered her a friend. She just couldn't bring herself to go ahead and shout obscenities at the woman who had done just the same five days ago.

"I was quitting my job, I didn't have another job to replace it, Michael was still going to school and we were living together, I needed an income, and quick because Christmas was coming up, and my parents were expecting major, expensive presents. So, I needed a job, and I actually felt … more confident doing it." Tossing the potato into a bowl of water, she placed it on the stove to boil. "Of course, obviously, by your reaction, you wouldn't dream of even trying to understand it, eh?"

"Mimi!" Sora gasped, tears slowly overflowing her pain-filled eyes. "How could you say such a thing? That was horrible!"

Spinning around, she let Sora see all the hurt in her own eyes, let Sora see how much agony had filled her, how much self-hatred had been unearthed and directed towards her, just how much sorrow had consumed her heart the moment the obscenities had been spoken. "You think I'm being harsh? You think me saying that was horrible? Of course you would! You wouldn't even consider calling your friend, your best friend, a whore at all cruel! You would gladly just walk up to me, or anyone else who models, and point the finger, and fucking condemn them as being the typical, stereotypical, high school girl who always wanted to work for Playboy. Do I look like some dumb, fucking blonde slut who waltzes around, parading nude for the whole world to see and fuck at every opportunity? Do you honestly think I'm really a fucking prostitute off the street? Because if you do, you seriously need to get your eyes checked!"

She fought the urge to lunge forward and slap Sora viciously across the face. Instead, her hands balled into tight fists at her sides, her body shaking with fury and agony. "If you honestly think I'm nothing but some worthless, piece of shit whore, then you're fucking wasting your time trying to know all the why's and how's! Just get the fuck out of my life; you're definitely not a good friend."

Turning her back to her, she pulled out all necessary ingredients and began the process of making multiple rice dumplings for the ozoni soup she was planning on making.

Suddenly, warm arms enveloped her body, and a face was buried against her back. Sobs were violently expulsed from the mouth of the person, and their body trembled violently against Mimi's own figure, head shaking furiously against her shoulder blades so sharply it actually began to cause her pain.

Placing down her half-made dumpling, she turned around slowly, and looked down at Sora's tear-streaked face, watching quietly as the girl sobbed violently against her, soaking her top, while smearing her own makeup.

"Sora …"

Mimi's voice was soft, filled with concern, void of all anger and hate that had once filled it. She gently brushed a hand against Sora's moist cheek, wiping away a tear, which was soon replaced by another.

"Oh Sora … please don't cry."

"I … I can't … help it … I'm so … st – st – stupid. I'm so … sorry, Mi – Mimi. P – p – please forgive … me."

Guilt spread through Mimi's body as she realized that she was the cause for Sora's pain, for her hurt, and she held her friend tightly in her arms, caressing her back gently, in a tender, sisterly fashion. "Sora, honey, I forgive you. I just … timed it all wrong. I didn't think … I'm so sorry for calling you a bad friend. Oh, Sora, can you forgive me?"

Sora's head bobbed up and down furiously against Mimi's breast in a violent nod, which actually caused the top of her skull to eventually meet with the bottom of Mimi's jaw. The two jerked with pain, rubbing their injured parts, before laughter began to bubble forth from their throats in unison.

"We must look like we're crazy," Sora choked, wiping away tears as she giggled loudly. "Here I am, crying, looking like some bobble-head, while you're trying to make supper and … Oh Kami, we're both fools, aren't we?"

Mimi continued to rub her jaw, although it was through sheer habit now, as opposed to pain, due to the fact that a smile was plastered against her face. "Yeah, we are." She paused briefly, looking Sora deep in her eyes, a serious expression on her face. Sora immediately stopped in her laughter, gazing up at Mimi's eyes. "Sora … I'm sorry for being so rude before. You were just … probably … really shocked. I suppose you didn't know how to react and all. It was my fault for immediately judging you." Her expression softened. "Sora, I forgive you only if you forgive me. Deal?"

Her worried expression twisted into a bright smile, contentment glittering vibrantly in her moist eyes. "Deal. I forgive you Meems."

"Then I guess I just have to forgive you, too." She smirked. "Now, how about, as an act of apology, you help me make this food? I'm cooking for 6 people, and two strange monsters tonight that eat a lot, so I will need to prepare as much as I can."

Her head bobbed violently once more, and she couldn't help but smile at Mimi. "We were screwed up for a few days, didn't we?"

Waving a hand aside, she turned her back to the girl, resuming her role of making the dumplings. "Yeah, well, at least it didn't last long."

"Agreed."

Matt listened to the screaming and shouting coming from his kitchen, trying his hardest not to pay any attention to the words of hurt and pain Mimi cried, trying not to imagine her face contorted and twisted with psychological agony and torment, and instead attempted to place all his focus on the task of setting up the sound system for the New Year's party.

But when the sound ceased abruptly, fear overtook his senses; Mimi was in there, with Sora, was really damn angry, and was most likely holding a knife. He tried not to think of Sora, lying prone on the ground, bleeding profusely from multiple wounds caused by Mimi's blade, and instead focused on the wiring for the system.

Once his job was completed, with much distraction as he kept glancing back towards the kitchen, which had been purposely blocked off by Mimi with a thick blanket, her claim being that she didn't want any of the guests seeing the food before it was prepared.

As soon as he heard the sound of someone chopping, his eyes widened with terror and disgust; if Mimi had just killed Sora, then she was most likely using the same knife to make supper. Just the simple thought of that nearly made him sick to his stomach, and he found himself sprinting towards the kitchen.

Stopping at the doorway, his eyes widened like immense dinner plates, and he gaped at the sight before him. Sora stood beside Mimi, the two chatting quietly while making dumplings, smiles broad and cheerful on their faces.

Mimi turned to face the blonde boy who had just decided to barge in on their conversations. "Yes, Matt?"

"Oh, thank Kami, Sora's not dead!"

Confused glittered in the girls' eyes, and they frowned in his direction. "What are you talking about?" they asked in perfect unison, before laughing, fighting hard not to be childish and cry out 'Jinx!'

Still pale, he waved a hand aside. "Oh, never mind."

There you go. I know, I wish I could've made their, uh, hate last for chapters, but I really want to make this story go a bit faster, you know. It's already quite long, and I don't want to make it too much longer, seeing as I still have quite a bit to write, haha.

Anyways, please don't forget my rule: Three reviews minimum, or no update. Got it? Get it? Good.

Haha.

Thank you

Ciao.