My alarm clock blares.

It's an annoying and unwelcome sound.

I groan as I roll onto my side, bringing my fist down hard on the off button. My vision is blurry, and I mutter incoherently as I fumble around my nightstand for a pair of frames. As per usual my fingers seem to come into contact with everything but what I'm actually looking for, and knock several things on the floor in the process. It takes me a few minutes, but eventually everything begins to come into focus as soon as I pull on my cherry red glasses.

I glance around after slumping back into a mountain of pillows, still half asleep. And for a minute I'm completely confused at my surroundings.

Sunlight streams into a large room covered in pale cream paint and decorated with a black lace border. All the furniture is made from pale wood with gold detailing, and it's all way too neat. I'm in the middle of the room on a large circular bed covered in cream colored silk sheets and swan feather pillows.

I am actually surprised at how little I miss my old room.

Rolling out of bed, I slip into a pair of black fuzzy slippers and trudge over to my vanity table. My feet drag in the thick plush carpet that some idiot decided to make a nice pure white. Seriously, these are the kind of decisions that cause divorces.

Collapsing on my cream colored vanity stool I pick up a paddle brush and proceed to yank it through my hair. It's easy now that is about a fourth of the length it used to be, but I still feel a pang of longing for my previously waist length locks.

I pull it into a scruffy ponytail before brushing my bangs aside with the tips of my fingers.

Once I'm done I walk over to the pale polished desk next to the large floor to ceiling windows on the other side of the room. I boot up my sleek sliver laptop before walking over to my new walk in closet and begin pulling out the stuff from my closet I need for school.

Pulling a white chest binder from the bag in the back of my closet, I shuck off my night shirt and proceed to flatten my already sad excuse for a chest. I pull my shirt back on and glance over to the mirror hanging on the inside of the closet door. I pass pretty well for skinny boy if I do say so myself.

I move into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face, taking care to only use the unscented products I picked up yesterday. My previous skin care regimen sits in a box underneath my marble sink, probably never to be used again. Which is a shame, considering a lot of them were new. Oh well, it was my parent's money anyways.

I towel off my face and take a minute to pop in my contacts. My reflection stares back at me apathetically from the ornate bathroom mirror.

Today is my first day at Ouran, but I can honestly say I'm not nervous. I mean, it can't be any worse than my last school.

I had officially pulled out of my previous high school on Monday, but I wasn't due to start at Ouran until Thursday. So I had a few free days all to myself. And after that, I feel amazing. It's like a heavy weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

I had spent all day shopping for my new neutral wardrobe and products. Mainly it just consisted of lots of long sleeve shirts and sweats. There were a few pairs of jeans and button down shirts, and I even bought three ties and a suit in case of special occasions. Add three oversized unisex hoodies and a pair of black boots and hey, and it's like Naoko never existed.

With my leftover time I ended up playing dating Sims and a bunch of other interactive online games. It felt great to goof off, and after everything, I was able to let out my anger by setting goblins on fire and shooting other pesky creatures in the face with my bow and arrows.

Ah...if real life problems could be handled like they are in video games...I'd have been arrested for mass murder by now. I could simply show up at school and hack Nayoko to pieces with my bone-saw. That would do wonders for my reputation. But hey...a girl can dream can't she? And as you can guess, some of my dreams are violent.

I drag my feet as I walk back into my bedroom, popping and rolling my stiff neck and shoulders. Sitting in that cell phone gaming position has done a number on my back.

A knock on the door announces the arrival of breakfast, so I quickly dash to my vanity and put the banana clip extension on before opening the door.

I grab the plate of food from a grouchy looking maid and set it on the desk next to my laptop. I've just crammed the first piece of toast into my mouth when I see it.

My old class's private forum is practically on fire. All of my former classmates have been indulging in their new favorite past time. Attacking me from the safety of their bedrooms.

They all range from the mild, 'you're a horrible person,' to 'burn in hell whore.'

My classmates are lovely no? And the best part is that no sensei knows anything about this, so everyone gets off scot-free.

I scan the page, trying to extinguish my anger before it builds too high. I was about to walk away when I saw the ones that started to spring up around the time school let out yesterday.

'What's the matter slut? Missing school to go screw some random guys?'

'Becoming a prostitute Fujisaki? Are times that tough?'

'Bitch probably knows now that Nayoko has the rest of us to back her up.'

All the rest are responses to a rather lengthy post Nayoko made Sunday night.

The rest of the toast goes uneaten and is dropped on my desk top, crumbs falling into the infernal white carpet. But that's the least of my problems now.

I want to thank you all so much for standing by me in this troubled time. It's nice to know who my true friends are.

Who would have thought my best friend would turn out to be a liar that just wanted to see me fail at everything? While my time with her will not easily be forgotten, I do want her to know this is unacceptable and I don't know if I can ever forgive what she's done.

I thought I had a soul sister in her; someone I could trust with all my secrets and hoped would someday be a godmother to my kids. It's hard to see that image crumble before my mind's eye, and know it can never be just because of a simple case of jealousy.

I just want to make it clear to her that you can't just go around throwing yourself at any man you see. You don't know what kind of relationships you're destroying. Don't play with their feelings and use them like trophies.

I can only hope that the one day you meet someone who uses you like that, you'll see the error of your ways. I'll be waiting then. All you have to do is find me and we can make amends.

My jaw clenches tighter with every response I read.

'Maybe we should start a class fundraiser so she can have the money to get rid of whatever STD she ends up with.'

'I can't believe you can find it in your heart to forgive her after all she's done.'

'She's disgusting. I always knew she was a good for nothing slut.'

White hot rage flashes through me.

Who does she think she is?! Make amends my ass. That's her strategy. Look like the saint and push the blame on me. Because I'm always the bad guy.

I slam the top of the laptop down before kicking the leg of the desk. Pain shoots up my leg and my toe begins to throb, but it helps clear the anger from my head a little.

I rip off my extension piece and sulk over my table. Life sucks.

But slowly, my anger dulls and my heart rate evens out. This is easily fixed. I open my laptop again and log out of my account, closing the window and closing the top more gently this time.

They can't hurt me if I cut myself off from them.

XX

As soon as I enter the classroom the whispers start. I'm the new meat...the shiny new toy. Or in this case, the shiny gold lined, gem encrusted ornamental egg on a pedestal complete with a tiny music box inside. The kind with the tiny hand painted ballerina that twirls around in a permanent arabesque.

That's one thing you can never avoid when you transfer in six weeks into the semester.

"This is our new student Fujisaki Naoki," the sensei says. "He's just transferred from America, so do your best to make him feel welcome. Alright?"

There's a chorus of responses from the students before they students go back to gossiping. The sensei turns back to me, tucking a lock of her black hair behind her ear.

"Fujisaki-san, you can just go ahead and sit wherever you want," she whispers.

I give her a curt nod before heading for the first vacant seat I see, which oddly enough, is in the middle of the class, and not the back by the window.

I keep my head down and my eyes on the floor as the obnoxiously loud murmurs reach my ears. I guess I didn't do as good on my makeover as I thought.

"He's so cute!"

"Where has he been all my life?"

"He should join the Host Club!"

"He looks like the silent rebel type."

"Do you think we'd look good together?"

I slump down in my seat, shoving my bag back on the floor.

To my dismay, the mindless babble continues even after the sensei starts the lesson. Though it's taken down a few decibels. I can see them point and stare, passing notes and blushing. The boys on the other hand just glare at me. I can feel them piercing my back.

It's irritating, but I can deal with this. It's not like I'm going to date any of these girls anyways. I'm not getting that into character.

I roll up the sleeves on the boy's uniform, trying to restrain myself from absentmindedly playing with my hair. This is harder than I thought.

"Fujisaki-san?"

I look up to see the sensei standing over my desk.

"You don't have to take this test alright?" she says sweetly. "Just read a book or something, ok?"

"Alright," I reply softly.

Right then there's an incredibly loud squeal that is made up of most girls in the room. I resist the urge to cringe and cover my ears as it continues on.

Oh dear god. What have I gotten myself into? I didn't sign up for this.