Nothing.

The sharp, smoldering aftertaste of the hot coffee lingered in the back of Lori's throat, the energizing kick doing nothing to perk her up after a hearty gulp. She slunk in her chair, sighing as she watched the tiny wisps of hot steam slowly rising from her mug—she had to strain her bleary, baggy eyes a little since the unlit kitchen made her pursuit a little difficult, though the early Monday morning sunlight shone through the windows just enough for her fixation to not be entirely impossible.

Another sigh dragged from her throat, this time in response to the stinging realization that, of course, this wasn't going to work—two whole weeks of trial and error should've told her better than to labor in vain.

She didn't know what to call "this", the sensation that bored into her body and blanked out her mind with utter exhaustion—even sneaking out of bed to do this felt like a chore, as if her muscles were caked to the brim with poison that drained her of energy from the tiniest of exertion. The most puzzling part of her lethargy was that it didn't make a lick of sense; or at least, it shouldn't have made sense.

It couldn't have been in response to sleep deprivation; if anything, she was getting too much rest lately. And yet, for the past few weeks, she still found her body fumbling about on autopilot after another long day of school nearly crushed her into dust—it took her every ounce of her mettle just to stay on her feet for two hours after drunkenly staggering through the front door. Despite distinctly remembering the face of her alarm clock reading "5:29 PM" before her mind wiped and carried her off to another dreamless sleep, she felt as if she hadn't gotten any rest at all—since when was it possible for nearly twelve hours of sleep to not make a difference?

And so, with no option left but the daft, naive foolishness that a brewing cup of hot coffee would do the trick in making her foggy mind alert, Lori peered into the murky depths of her only hope, gazing upon the ripples of steam that steadily began to die out.

Well, technically, coffee wasn't the only thing Lori could've done to handle her sleeping problems—it was just the only option that was fair to everyone else.

Going to her parents and requesting that they take her to a doctor? 'Why, so you can make them waste even more time and money on you? They have enough on their plate as it is; you have no right to make it worse for them just because you can't suck it up.'

Asking Lisa for some insight? 'You're not worth her time. She has better things to do than help her useless sister get some shut-eye. When're you gonna stop thinking about yourself already?'

Even when the coffee suggestion first crossed her mind, she was met with opposition. 'Other people need it more than you, people who actually make a difference and have something to be proud of. What makes you think you deserve to have any?'

The guilt could only be appeased (or at least, calmed down to a squall of pressure that blindsided her every now and then, as opposed to an ever-present, miserable maelstrom that loomed overhead) with a compromise to her sin; she'd only make enough to fill half a cup, leaving the lion's share to her wonderful family.

Her slender fingers encircled the mug again, palms unresponsive to the heated ceramic slightly singeing her flesh. Lori grimaced, not to the mug but to the sudden flash of pain that bound the nerves in her calf in a vice grip. She fought through the familiar agony as her trembling hands brought the mug up to her lips, allowing the now-lukewarm coffee to slither down her gullet.

Still nothing.

Breakfast time; for most, it was the perfect chance to get the day on the right foot, surrounded by the happy company of loved ones.

For Lori Loud, it was yet another obstacle for her façade to overcome. Her lack of energy made sneaking upstairs after her coffee, pretending to wake up at the beck and call of her alarm clock, showering, and getting dressed a hassle, especially since school days demanded non-stop, fast-paced movement.

And then came breakfast.

It pained her just to smile, contorting her mouth at an unnatural angle to ward off suspicion and blend in with the dining room's lively ambiance. Still, it beat having everyone questioning her apathetic features.

Upholding normal conversation was a little more challenging to handle, though being thrust in the center of attention wasn't impossible to avoid. As long as she kept her head in the sand, making sure not to speak unless spoken to, she'd be in the clear. Lola and Lana were usual the highlights of any meal, their spats diverting the focus away from any interspersed small talk. Today was no exception, to the smallest sliver of relief that Lori could subconsciously allow herself to have.

Things weren't always this easy, however. From time to time, Leni would (unwittingly) demand her energy with one-on-one conversation that couldn't be passed over with shrugs, nods, and the rare "mm-hmm". Nothing about entertaining her warm smile and infectious fervor could instill her a second's peace, though, turning one of her life's former joys into miserable drudgery.

But her biggest trial was literally under her nose—hard boiled eggs and toast adorned her plate, a glass of water served on the side. The wafts of her food felt more like an unpleasant intrusion through her nose than a pleasure as nausea rumbled in her gut. All she could manage, without feeling the urge to violently retch, were humble bites that she quickly washed down with plentiful sips of water.

Of course, she didn't have to eat, but there were only so many times that she could "eat later after doing homework" or "skip a meal or two for the sake of a new diet" before she was pushing her luck, and she'd be in the center of probing questions raised by those who were better of being concerned about anyone other than her.

But today…today didn't just feel like another day where her diseased appetite kept her at bay—guilt prevented her from even looking at her food without her throat flaring up from her choking back her sobs.

Lincoln had made her food for her. She couldn't call it a gesture of exceptional generosity, given how he had prepared the breakfasts of each of her sisters this morning. What was exceptional, on the other hand, was how he had gone about delivering it. He denied her the privilege of seeing his cute, chipper face and hearing his friendly greeting by placing her meal on the table before she could even think about standing in line along with the others.

Not too long ago, Lynn had come around to finally let bygones be bygones, though her acceptance became apparent by the fact that unlike Lincoln, she could at least look her in the eye without quickly turning away and scowling. It was a bitter pill to swallow to know that he still harbored animosity for her after all this time.

But then again, who was she to complain, to imply that she deserved better? She was lucky to be lavished with one of her brother's many talents, despite not having her blessing be offered with the knowledge that she was in his good graces. His selflessness was admirable, much like his aptness for greatness, and Lori couldn't imagine why he couldn't—

"AH!"

Her guilty conscience and sluggishness were drowned out by indignant rage as Lori's sudden outburst was followed by her hissing through clenched teeth, another scathing jolt of flaming cramps crippling her calf. Something, or someone, had just kicked her right in her sore spot, yet another unexpected ailment that had belabored her lately.

She heard a feeble gasp to her left, and she quickly swiveled her head towards the direction of the sound. Her eyes fell on Leni, whose bright, widened eyes and trembling frown spoke volumes of the fear inspired from her older sisters' furious glare.

"S-sorry," Leni muttered. "I was kicking my legs around and, like, I must've hit you or-"

She let out a squeak as Lori stood up from her chair, slamming her fist down on the table as the fire in her eyes spoke of an imminent, angry retort to her meekness.

"Can you go five seconds, just five seconds without acting like such a brainless twit?! Why do you always have to…to…"

Words failed her when, in a sudden rush of realization, it dawned on her the atrocity that she had just committed. Leni's sniffling and budding tears only amplified her guilt, paralyzing her just enough to allow her to look around at the faces of her siblings, all of which spoke ill of her.

"I'm…I-I'm sorry, I…uh…"

Her eyes scoured around the room again, her sibling's expressions not aligning with the chance that they didn't think less of her.

Especially Lincoln's. While her sister's looks ranged from shocked to miffed, his was…stone-faced, as if this was what he expected from someone like her, a jealous, angry freak that aimed to live off the delight from the misery she inspired.

Of course, he was right to think so. What else could be expected from the spiteful runt of the litter?

"I just…I just need to cool off for a second, okay?"

Her departure was allowed without objection. In fact, as Lori trudged slowly to the bathroom, her drained body feeling like cinderblocks were strapped over her back, she could guess that if anything, they wanted her gone.

'Well, look who decided to ruin everyone's day. Just like always, huh?'

The dimness of Lori's eyes reflected at her in the bathroom mirror, their bleakness only matched by the hopelessness of her situation. They were sure to know something was wrong now. Of course, they'd notice something was amiss now that the "precious cinnamon roll" got hurt. She could suffer in silence all she wanted, but the jig was up now that someone of importance undeservedly entered her crosshairs.

Or maybe…maybe that was just what Lori hoped for, a want for a helping hand beneath her insistence that her family was better off without her problems weighing them down. Beyond the simple act of having her loved ones get to the bottom of her troubled behavior, there was an implication to be considered—if her snapping and yelling at someone over nothing would've raised concern, then that would speak volumes about how much they expected out of her.

But…she knew better than to think that she dashed anyone's ideas about her, crushed any positive expectations underneath the heel of her little performance from earlier. She couldn't judge those shocked faces as anything other than a reflex. It was apparent that reality dawned on them, that because "it was just Lori" they figured that nothing else could be done but to give Leni comfort and their condolences about having to put up with such an awful roommate.

That's why, even after nearly five minutes had passed, not one person bothered to check on her. She knew that if she were Luna or Lucy or Luan, no one would've been kept away with the excuse to "cool off" after blowing up at someone—everyone and their dog would want to know why one of the "perfect ten" lost their cool and do everything in their power to ensure that they weren't turning into the monster that she was.

'They all hate you, you know. Leni probably hates you the most.'

It was that thought that brought her to tears.

Though Leni found herself caught up in the lunch rush, her own thoughts dictated the most of her attention. Walking and chewing gum at the same time might've been a bit of a handful for her but weaving through a crowd of bustling students while thinking about her older sister was a walk in the park.

She chose to trust Luna's advice and leave Lori alone to let her calm down. With hindsight now in play, though, she had reason to believe that perhaps, she was better of leaning on her own instincts—at least if she took the chance to reconcile with Lori before leaving the house, the ride to school wouldn't have been surrounded with so much awkward tension, enough to make any brief eye contact between them almost physically painful.

But ensuring smooth sailing from home was just the tip of the iceberg; Leni had other concerns, apprehension about Lori's well-being. She had reason to believe that Lori's outburst couldn't be passed off as an isolated incident that wasn't hinged on worrying observations she'd been noticing lately…

Leni's heart sank with disappointment when she spotted Lori's usual eating spot from a distance…

But no Lori in sight. Though she saw familiar faces, people who could point out where her sister could be hanging out right now, it didn't match the ease of confronting her right there and then. Still, she couldn't make a fuss, as if she were given a bag of sour lemons to deal with. Though she only had brief interactions with Lori's friends, she had no reason to believe that they'd reproach her.

And so, she made her move, closing in on the two girls who were too caught up in their conversation to notice Leni until she took a seat across from them.

"Hi, Whitney," Leni said to the girl with curly blonde locks before turning her attention to the girl with short brown hair. "Hey, Dana."

Whitney gave back the greeting in kind. "Hey, Leni."

Leni thought she'd be in the clear to cut to the chase after that, but Dana was quick to chime in.

"You're the first Loud that's sat with us in quite a while," she said, her grin dropped and her shoulders sagged.

Leni didn't know what to make of that sudden shift in expression, nor her words. Whitney's reply didn't offer her any helpful hints.

"Yeah, I'll say," she added, her tone, scowl, and folded arms suggesting bitterness.

"What'd you mean by that?" Leni asked.

She wasn't met with a response right away. Instead, the two girls looked at each other, as if to silently communicate on how they should proceed. The exchange lasted for only a few seconds, and Dana led the charge with a pacifying, feeble smile.

"Look, Leni, don't take this the wrong way or anything, buuuuuut we're pretty mad at your sister."

Whitney picked up her fork, absentmindedly twirling it between her fingers. "She's ditched us," she explained, her eyes squinted underneath her slanted eyebrows.

As much as it shamed her to admit it, Leni wasn't all that surprised to hear about someone having issue with Lori—Whitney and Dana certainly weren't the first to have unpleasant sentiments about her lately. The reason, however, begged further explanation.

"Ditched you? For what?" Leni asked.

Whitney's sudden, angry stab of the fork's tines into her Cobb salad startled Leni, though she was apparently too caught up in her emotions to discern her fright and apologize.

"That's just it!" Whitney cried. "We don't have a clue why she's been ducking us!"

That was truly mystifying. Even though Leni conceded with the notion that Lori hadn't been her usual self lately, this revelation was far too out of left field for her to accept at face value.

"Are you sure she's avoiding you? Maybe…maybe she just got lost on the way here?" she offered with a shrug.

It was a far-fetched suggestion, and Leni knew it. Just because she could get overwhelmed by the labyrinth-like structure of Royal Woods High didn't mean that was a vice that Lori shared with her.

By the look of incredulity on Dana's face, Leni could tell that she thought her suggestion just as unconvincing as she did.

"Yeah, I'd buy that if it wasn't happening every single day for weeks," Dana grumbled.

"And to make things worse," Whitney added, "she hasn't been answering our calls or texts. I mean, Lori Loud not replying to a text? Since when does that happen?"

"You'd have to chain her down to keep her away from her phone," Dana said. "Are we expected to believe that we're not hearing back from her just because?"

At this point, Whitney was seething enough for her cheeks to glow red from anger, though she kept her temper under control enough for her to not scream at the top of her lungs.

"Just who does she think she is, anyway?" she griped, her teeth gnashed. "What gives her the right to just blow us off like she can just do whatever the hell she wants? If I had half a mind, I'd…"

All it took was one hardened look from Leni for Whitney to shut her mouth, the stern message of "Quit badmouthing my sister," read loud and clear. She shrunk back and looked off to the side.

"Sorry," Dana said, feeling just as much shame as Whitney. "We didn't mean to rant on her like that."

"Yeah," Whitney added when she gave Leni her attention again. "We got a little too caught up in our emotions. It's just…it's just not the same without your sister around, y'know? I really miss her. I wish she'd tell us what was going on."

By now, Leni's glare had softened, their words going straight to her heart. Nowadays, she could relate to that feeling of loss, even when Lori was literally right next to her. Although some of Lori's freedoms were restricted because of her punishment, her parents hadn't left her without the chance for the two of them to go out to the mall on the weekends, just as long as all her housework was finished.

And yet Lori always refused to indulge her. It was either "studying" or "napping" that seemed to pull her away from spending just one second with her. And perhaps, if it had ended there, she would've left the matter alone. But it wasn't just trips to the mall that Lori couldn't be bothered with; television marathon watching, nail painting, gossiping, and album listening were also kicked to the curb in favor of her reclusiveness.

And just like on that day, Leni was told to leave her be whenever she asked if she was alright. Except, instead of declaring that she didn't want to talk, she was quick to insist that "she was just fine" or "there was nothing to worry about". But despite her claims, Leni couldn't help but worry, not after everything she had noticed. Now that there was uncharacteristic anger to deal with, how could she do anything but fret? There was only so long Leni could trust Lori's words, to believe that she wasn't just keeping up appearances, before she'd have no choice but to push further than her boundaries allowed.

And once she and Lori were alone, that's exactly what she'd do.

An assortment of failures laid before Lori, homework papers askew and disorderly on the floor as her bloodshot eyes lazily skimmed over the blankness of each sheet. Thanks to the fact that most of the student body were in the cafeteria for lunch, she wouldn't have to worry about the risk of the solitude of the quiet corner of the fourth floor's hallway being intruded.

'Why're you even bothering? You'll never catch up.'

"…yeah."

Lori never reacted to the council of the little voice in her head in the open like that until now—something about the cold bluntness of the statement commanded such respect from her.

It had a point; she had managed to let an entire weekend's worth of homework assignments slip by unfinished. Those past two days were a haze, the clearest bits of memory being of her laying around in her dark room, slipping out of bed to munch on a snack before going right back to the former, or cleaning up the house as the terms of her grounding imposed.

But that only spoke of the meager part of the problem, as she was quick to be reminded of…

'That's right. Just quit. What're passable grades to someone without a future, anyway?'

That was the true difference maker, the separation between a loser like her and a winner like…like Lisa. Lisa would've found a way to turn a situation like this around on its head, but not before she sneered at the so-called "difficulty" that this task imposed. But here she was, sprawled out on the floor and wallowing in the filth of her underachievement, all while she had held onto the dim hope that there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

But she had no future, something that she could pursue with the confidence in her abilities to guide her. All she had were foolish ambitions, shots in the dark that reflected nothing of her worth. She deluded herself with the idea that she could be a CEO (and of a major company, at that) just because she could demoralize her siblings into falling in line whenever she had the chance of taking the reins of authority.

And to make matters worse, her parents would be the ones biting the bullet if she selfishly went down that route—the money for a college education didn't grow on trees, after all. They'd have to spare the expenses of their useful children just to give her a shot at becoming something other than a mediocre footnote. Their sacrifices and their misery would be in vain, all because pathetic little Lori couldn't manage to come into her own.

Heaving a sad sigh, Lori reached for each assignment one by one, crumbling them up into tiny little balls, read to be thrown in the trash. With nothing left to tie her down here, she thought about just…just sitting there and doing nothing. She had the gall to allow her selfishness to get the better of her, letting it suggest that she could've gone to her friends (who were most likely former friends by now, given how they had stopped trying to reach her days ago).

But who was she to weigh them down, to give them grief because of her own? She couldn't be trusted to not bite the head off her pretty, perfect little sister over a petty matter; she shuddered as she imagined what she could to do those she valued less than family. And besides that, it wasn't like she'd be able to enjoy their company even if she tried. There were only so many fake smiles and laughs she could rely on to mask the emptiness, the inability to find joy in any of her recreations—it'd be a fruitless effort to pretend as if somehow, her sorrow would be left behind within the walls of her home.

The fact of the matter was, they didn't need her—no one needed her.

The real hell always started after Lori came back home.

She could easily get lost in the shuffle at school; social expectations weren't difficult to avoid. It wasn't like her peers, specifically her friends, could do much but scratch their heads and wonder what had become of Lori Loud.

But here, in a place where a moment's peace was rare to find? She'd always have to be on high alert, constantly pushing her mind and body to play the part of someone without this…this unsettledness weighing them down, and as Lori lugged herself up the stairs—her tortuous fatigue nearly shredding her muscles and snapping the bones in her legs in two—she knew she was heading towards the belly of the beast, towards the person who had the highest probability of sniffing out her sham for what it was.

Perhaps paranoia was choking out her better senses (or what little remained of them), but Lori had a feeling that Leni was catching onto her. It felt like she was on borrowed time; any day now, Leni would call her out on the real reason why she was always brushing her off, and it'd be all over.

But Leni deserved better closure than that half-assed apology she had muttered in the throes of pure shame. In fact, she deserved so much more than that.

'A better older sister, for starters.'

The agony in her body could only deter her from making measured, steady strides, but she willed herself to straighten up her composure once she made it to her bedroom, opening the door and finding Leni just where she expected her to be, on her bed flipping through a magazine.

Her entry was far from quiet, and Lori hoped that as Leni flicked her eyes away from the pages to look at her, she appeared collected enough to not be beset with prying concern. Instead, as Lori slowly approached her, she was greeted with a sight that was just as, if not more, troubling—those eyes gazed at her, the ones that flashed with fear and uncertainty as she mercilessly crucified her earlier.

"Lori, I-"

"I'm sorry."

'Please, you're never sorry. Eventually, you're just gonna snap at her again.'

Then, with resolve she didn't know her present state was capable of, she hurried over to her and wrapped her sister in a hug. The comfort such contact would normally inspire was gone, but Lori allowed herself to believe that Leni could at least appreciate it, despite knowing better than to assume that Leni needed to rely on her to feel whole. Sure enough, though, her numb body could feel the faint pressure of Leni reciprocating the hug.

"I'm really sorry for what happened at breakfast," she continued, sadness gripped on every word. "That was uncalled for, and I should've never yelled at you like that."

Leni's reply was faster and far more different than she could've thought, given the severity of her crime.

"I forgive you," she said, her genuine tone doing nothing to mollify Lori's anxiety.

'She's only saying that out of obligation. She doesn't mean it.'

And she wanted nothing more than to carry that dread to bed, where she could at least have a chance of gaining some of her bearings with a quick little power nap before dinner—even if the past two weeks proved that that rarely had a chance of happening.

But she couldn't depart from the hug fast enough to escape Leni's tightened grasp.

This was it; her time to act was now, and Leni knew she'd have to be careful. Her planned approach was simple and between the extremes of "passive" and "forceful". If she leaned too close to the former, the cycle of assurance would continue, leaving her out in the cold. Doing the opposite would lead to possibly even more disastrous results—if Lori truly was keeping secrets, she'd know to switch up her game to save face, further complicating Leni's pursuit.

"Lori?"

"Yeah?"

"If there was anything that was bothering you, you'd tell me, right?"

...

...

"Yeah." She could feel her nodding against her neck and ear. "Yeah, of course."

"Okay."

But despite saying it out loud, Leni still couldn't shake the feeling that things were far from "okay".

This wasn't over yet.