Hello my readers!

I have a bone to pick with you.

One review? ONE?

And people wonder why I take so long to update.

Sheesh.

Anyway, the reason (besides the ONE review) I haven't updated is because football (American Soccer) tryouts was two weeks ago! And guess which Brit writer got on the team? Moi, of course! (Not trying to brag or anything, but 5O girls tried out and only 2O got excepted.) You'll never guess what number I am…

NINE.

I FOUGHT FOR THIS NUMBER WITH A SCARY-ASS SENIOR.
IT WAS SCARY.
BUT TRENT WOULD BE SO PROUD.
OR HE WOULD BE CREEPY. WHATEVER WORKS FOR HIM.

Please enjoy this drabble based on our sweetheart's fav number!

PLEASE. PLEASE REVIEW. YOU'RE KILLING ME HERE.

Trent fixed his guitar string. As gently as handling a sick child, he put his guitar down. He looked up at his room.

There nine posters of his favorite band exactly nine inches apart in a wall space that was exactly nine square feet.

Trent face palmed. This obsession was embarrassing.

He even lost his girl over it… And whenever he mentions the word nine people get freaked out... Even his parents got him a doctor.

The teen kicked a chair across the room. That damn TV show! Everyone thinks he's a damn freak now! He hid his face in his hands. What to do! His beloved grandfather gave him a toy that had nine wheels! Surely it was some heavenly sign! It was his treasure. It meant the world to him.

'But sometimes these things have to be kept secret...' He thought to himself. Trent sighed. He had an idea.

It was going to be very painful.

He took one of his posters. He ripped it in half. He shuttered. Eight posters hung on his wall.

It was God awful.

Then Trent forced himself to take another one off the wall. He couldn't bring himself to rip it, so he moved it an inch. 1O inches away from the others. It drove him mad. He kept fighting. He moved them all about 1O inches away.

It was driving him simply bat shit.

But he fought it, he fought the desire to move it back.

Eight posters. Each ten inches apart.

Trent wanted to rip his hair out. He walked around in a circle nine-(he realized this and walked around once more)-ten times. He sat down and stayed quiet and as still as he could. The posters were mocking him. Staring him down like a tiger stares at prey.

But Trent would not fall victim, he vowed, he would no longer be a slave to the number nine!

He was getting over this once and for all.