Okay, so I wanted to update BEFORE Christmas, but it just didn't work out. So here's the next chapter; took me a bit of thinking to do to put it together. Had the events down, just not how to tie them all together. So yeah. By the way, Total Drama Island had never happened; they went to high school together. I should have mentioned that… ah well. Now you know. I'll stick it somewhere in the first chapter when I get around to it.

I do not own Courtney, Duncan, Noah, LeShawna, Bridgette, besides the plot and supporting characters that don't even possess names. They are © Fresh Entertainment & TELETOON. Or… Cartoon Network for the Americans? I don't know.

Momentum

Definitely NOT Okay

"C'mon, Princess. Suck it up."

It felt like the right time; freshly graduated from high school, moved out of the parents' home, having an ex-juvenile delinquent as a boyfriend… yeah. A nose piercing felt perfectly okay for the occasion.

But I was terrified.

"What if they strike a nerve in my nose and I end up paralyzed from the neck down?" I cried, grabbing a hold of Duncan's shoulder, shaking him profusely until he had to physically pry my hands off. He found pleasure in this, I knew, since a smug smirk was plastered on his face and remained there ever since I spontaneously decided to get this facial piercing done in the mall. Duncan asked me what I wanted as a graduated gift, passed a tattoo parlor, and… wah-lah! There we were.

Duncan rolled his eyes, "Oh, please. Stop being so dramatic. Look, I got mine when I was 12, and so have plenty of other people. It's never happened." I stared at him in horror, still uneasy. He obviously noticed.

"Don't worry, Princess. I'll be here every second." His grin wasn't as comforting as his words.

I climbed into the seat, staring with frighten-struck eyes at the huge man, tattoo covered and fully loaded with facial art all over his face, come at me with what was supposed to be a welcoming grin.

"Alright, don't squirm. It'll only hurt for a few seconds." Nodding, I clasped my eyes shut tightly. My hands, one gripping the arm of the chair, and the other searching for something more specific. Duncan's came immediately

And then shadows overcame me.

Sleep; I really did find pleasure in laying in a soft, warm bed, allowing myself to ease up and not have to worry about the next few hours. It gave me a piece of mind. And, as difficult as it is to admit, reality scared me somewhat. Some rare days, I just wish I could lay in my bed, never to get up, and stay in my sheets' clutches until I felt the need to be let go.

However, this type of slumber was a frightening one. I did not recognize it, once my dreams faded into an empty blackness; that must have been why it felt so fearsome. Lost and petrified was how I felt, the blackness never forming into a colorful dream. I couldn't have classified whatever I was experiencing as a nightmare, since it was just like a blank, black screen, but I had no the slightest idea of what exactly I was doing, where I was, or whether or not I was alone.

I felt cold and paralyzed.

As soon as I could feel my senses gradually coming back to me, soft murmuring and a beep sounding on rhythm progressively could be heard. The voices couldn't possibly be deciphered, but one was low, and the other sounded scared out of it's wits and high. Struggling, my fingers twitching against something soft and fluffy. Although I was still unsure about where my location was, using logic, I must have been on somewhat of a bed. Now if I could just open my eyes… 'C'mon, Courtney, you can do this…!'

'Courtney? Courtney?"

I squirmed a little, pinching my eyes shut to prepare them to open. But I couldn't. I mentally sighed. This wasn't working, I came to realize. I don't have the strength to do it. How can I be so weak? And… how did I exactly end up in this situation, anyhow?

I endeavored to recall what exactly I did before I ended up in this peculiar situation; or why I was even here. Searching deep in my memory…

Nothing came up.

I mentally screamed in frustration, my fingers twitching even more. I needed to know; this was so frustrating and confusing.

Okay… I… recollect Gwen… and her fiancé… wedding? Okay… wedding has… Dresses! We were looking for dresses… at the mall… Trent's annoying, so I'm sure he was doing something to piss me off… he was hungry. And then Gwen agreed with him. They went… OH, and then that HORRID bus ride. But then I got off… and… those men… and then someone called my name…

I sat straight up, gasping, my onyx eyes frantically searching the room.

"DUNCAN!?"

"Courtney?"

My eyes shot toward my mother's face, her brown eyes wide in confusion. Blinking, my head did a three-sixty around the room in search of that familiar face. Pastel walls, white cabinets, and a couple of complicated machines surrounded me; a hospital room. Still gasping for breath, I flopped back down on the soft, white bed, though I grew to know that was a mistake.

I yelped in pain, hand immediately reaching for the back of my head. A bandage. I groaned.

"Be careful, Darling!" I heard my mom exclaim, coming to my side without delay, "Are you okay? How are you feeling? How's your head? And what about that boy?" I knew perfectly well who "that boy" was; Duncan Phillips.

"Mom," I cried weakly, shutting my eyes once more and felt the tenseness ooze out of me; he wasn't in the room, or anywhere around me for that matter. That was good. "Too many questions… ow… wha… what happened? Where'd Dad?" I questioned feebly, creaking open my eyes to look at my mom. The other person in the room, my doctor, apparently, was looking at his clipboard, engrossed in whatever was on it. My mother opened her mouth, but someone interrupted her.

"… just have to reschedule, then…. No… I don't care! Tomorrow is the date, and if you want to have a job, then I'd suggest you accept… good."

Noah.

"Courtney." he said at once, mimicking my mother's reaction to my awakening by coming to my side, only less energetically. However, he made a face, before saying in a rather rude tone, "What is that on your face? Don't tell me you're wearing that, again."

My hand absentmindedly lifted to feel that nose ring I put on. Noah was not fond of my fascination with piercing, and whenever I was with him, he constantly advised me to take it out or he'd throw up. Fine by me, I'd just wear it when he wasn't around.

"Sorry…" I apologized, slipping it out, handing it to my mom.

"Anyway. How are you feeling?"

"Peachy." I stated blandly, my mouth dry from the sour tone. My boyfriend's face continued to appear concerned, so I heaved out a sigh. "I'm tired, my head hurts, and I don't know how I got here. Care to enlighten me? It was all just a blur." Attempting to sound sweet, a pathetic grin twitched on my lips.

Frequently, I'd be extremely joyful to see Noah, the man I feel like I've completely fallen for. But the burning ache that continued to throb from the back of my head (I think the painkillers I was receiving has run out), I hadn't the slightest clue why I was here, what happened, or where Duncan was… wait… why did I even care? Shaking the thought from my head, I waited for my answer.

Noah and my mother both exchanged weary glances, before Noah was the first to break by my infamous glare.

"Erm- Courtney. You were… "attacked"" I made a mental note to tell my mother not to use air quotes ever again. Continuing to stare, I told her to go on, "Courtney, remember those gang rapes going on around the city?"

"Uh… yes, I'm doing an article about it for the newspaper." I stated, looking up in thought. Now what would that have to do with me in the hospital?

"She must have really hit her head hard." I heard Noah mutter lethargically, sitting in a hospital chair beside me. If I wasn't thinking so intensely, I doubtlessly would have smacked him, no matter how much I loved him.

However, once the whole thing fit in like puzzle pieces, I felt like a rock had just dropped on my body. I felt dirty, I felt helpless, I felt the need to scream at the top of my lungs and jump off of a building!

My first thought--was I still a virgin?

"OH MY GOD!" I gasped, frantically snatching the covers off of me, "Please tell me I wasn't--!"

"NO!" My mother's shrill voice sounded in the room. I stopped dead, wide-eyed and staring in her direction, "What I mean is… no, Courtney. You weren't... raped." The doctor intervened.

"We did many tests, on your parents' approval, and we cannot identify any semen. You're clean."

The weight was lifted. Heaving a huge sigh, I closed my eyes, my heart beginning to composed itself. Even though I should have been seriously ticked off by the fact that they would examine my body without consent. But I trusted my parents. And, I'm pretty sure I would have approved it, anyway.

"But… what exactly happened?" I was curious, after all.

"Four men stalked you. You hit your head. Someone saved you. And brought you here. Then called us." stated Noah indifferently from behind a health magazine, a dull, apathetic expression matching. My eyebrows knitted together.

"Well, anyway!" my mother piped in, clasping her hands together and flashed a entirely fake beam, "Now that you're awake, let's discuss some other issues."

I still has so many other questions.

"Did the men get away? Where's dad? Who rescued me?" Noah sighed.

"Yes. And this kid who looks so juvenile, it's almost pathetic, saved you, though I'm skeptical he did it out of just being a hero. Doesn't seem too bright, either." he heaved out another sigh, turning a page, "As for your father, he's talking to the said person."

My mother, silently nodding her head, frowned deeply. She knew something I didn't. It bothered me. My eyes narrowed in her direction.

Nevertheless, the door of my hospital room opened once again, killing the silence. A tall, well-build middle-aged man, an ex-marine written across his face, entered the room

"Courtney." Came my father's deep voice, relieved, like seeing me awake had taken an elephant off of his shoulders. Smiling sweetly, I embraced my father obediently, but another thing came to mind.

"Where's the man who saved me?"

"Never mind that, Darling."

My mother twittered in, her voice high and positive as usual, "Is she allowed to go home?"

All eyes were on the unnoticeable doctor, except for my own. The open door, leading down the hall… I swear I spotted a flash of green…

Blinking, I realized someone was trying to contact me.

"Huh?" I responded, coming out of my daze. My mother and father gazed at me skeptically, Noah cocking an eyebrow.

"You're allowed to go home. And Noah suggested you stay with him tonight."

"Oh," I smiled warmly toward Noah, who just gave me a half-hearted grin. No matter. I was a smile, non-the-less. "Okay. That sounds good." I probably wouldn't be able to sleep alone, anyhow.

I awoke the next morning in a large mansion, the beautiful and lavish furniture around me seemingly unreal and unfamiliar to me. Blinking, I stared at the high ceiling above me, a little dazed and baffled on how I ended up here. I seem to be doing that, recently.

Sitting up, I yawned, rubbing my eyes. I then realized where I was.

A guest bedroom. In Noah's mansion.

Groaning, I flopped back down in the unusually comfortable bed, glaring up at that accursed ceiling. It's been a year, and that man still won't let me sleep in the same bed. Momentary looking at the alarm clock on the bedside table, I thought it a decent time to just go home and contemplate on how many attempts I've committed to get closer to Noah.

Climbing out of the bed, I slipped on my shoes, and headed out of this perfect guestroom and into the crazy, misleading maze of hallways that make up of Noah's house. I figured he'd be in his computer room, wrapped up in his own programs and deciphering the unknown… or the unknown to me.

After searching for what seemed an eternity, I finally establish my way to his domain of computer parts and other sorts. At first I hesitated, pondering on whether I should just wait for him to come out or just leave. Either way, it wouldn't turn out good. He'd probably just end up in there all day. And when he finds me missing, I'll get a very angry text. But the one thing I really loved about Noah is that he never holds grudges for a while. Or, rather, he's just too apathetic and uncaring to even bother.

I creaked the door open, finding just what I expected; Noah, sitting motionless in front of a large monitor, a million books surrounding him about computers, programs, and other sorts written for college professors. I slowly crept up beside him. He didn't stir.

"Hey, baby, I'm heading home." I told him silently, the slightest hope that I'd be able to distract him away from the radiant glow of the screen from his face.

"Oh, okay, Courtney. Bye." was all he replied, eyes wide and transfixed toward the glow. A few clicks of the mouse sounded in the silence. I sighed.

"Alright." Leaning it, I smacked a quick kiss on his cheek, trying to disregard his slight objection when he leaned away. My eyes narrowed, "I love you."

"Yeah. Love you, too."

'Fucker.'

Strutting out, my hands balled into ghost white fists. Of course I wasn't the type to begin to sob just because of the slightest details; in fact, I haven't cried in at least 3 years. But I felt so angry… so pissed off. How DARE he just snub me off like that, expecting me to take his hand in marriage in a few months. 'He didn't even look at me when he told me he loved me!' My eyes began to sting, but not from wetness. From dryness. I suppressed the urge to shriek.

I knew my friends all had issues with my relationship with Noah; in fact, some of them completely objected it. They knew how many nights I've come to them, feeling neglected and fuming because of his habits and rituals of his computer games and programs. I knew he had a difficult job, designing and managing electronics, but couldn't he at least spare me a few seconds with him?

Stepping out of Noah's mansion, I wasn't surprised to find a taxi ready and waiting in the circle parkway. I scoffed. Climbing into the cab, I dug my hand in my pocket

Driving home wasn't a road trip, but my apartment wasn't just down the street, either. I sat in the back, nose flared and arms crossed over my chest, disregarding Noah's actions. True, he ticked me off most of the time, but he was smart, well-mannered (most of the time), and possessed a future in front of him. And that was the type of man I was anticipated to hunt down, so my parents deem. I had no objections. This was where I had set my life to go. Noah, being a millionaire for his computer skills, would chip in for my law schooling that my parents dreamed I would participate in, and we'd be perfectly happy together.

But something sunk inside me. I felt like there was just something wrong.

Ignoring it, I climbed out of the cab to enter my apartment buildings' lobby, saying my thanks to the driver; Noah already paid with his damn plastic credit card.

As soon as I got to my front door, I came to realize that my keys were secure and safe… in Noah's room. Letting out an aggravated growl, I frantically searched the plant pot beside the door; the spare was somewhere in there, I recalled. But it was gone. 'Maybe LeShawna needed it and forgot to put it back?' I thought with any luck, pounded on the door, hoping by some miracle my roommate was home. I hadn't anticipated the door to just magically swing open.

"Hello?" I asked quietly, taking a step in my apartment. The lights were on, but it didn't seem like anyone was present. I felt slightly stupid to walk into my aparentment, scared, and asking, "Hello?", but I proceeded. "LeShawna?"

"Princess!"

I just about shit my pants right then and there. Or, rather, my heart had plummeted to the cold, hard tile of the front room, putting me in somewhat of a stupor. Duncan, a man I hadn't seen in at least 3 years, was standing in the middle of my living room, a small duffle-bag placed somewhat inconspicuously behind him. He looked exactly the same as he had

"Ya miss me?" As he came closer, I sensed the heat rise to my face. He seemed to realize this, because a cheeky, mischievous, and slightly charming smirk adorned his face.

"HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET IN MY APARTMENT?" I shrieked, grabbing the most dangerous weapon I could find; an umbrella. A little disappointed, I held it up, baring my teeth in a defensive growl. Being basically certain I came out to appear like a savage creature, I waited for him to respond to I could have a legible reason to beat him to his pathetic death.

"It's not that difficult to pick a lock, Princess." Duncan beamed smugly as he held up a crooked paper clip. I let out a fierce growl.

"Don't… call me that… PIG…" Slapping the umbrella in my hand, I sent my daunting glower in his direction, taking a step forward. Automatically, he took a step back. Good. Now we're getting somewhere.

"Hey, mellow your yellow, sweetheart. I've actually have a reason to be here." I stopped in my tracks, giving him a dumbfounded look, "Pft. You think I'd just break into your apartment and raid your fridge just randomly? Shesh."

"You raided my fridge?!"

"Yeah. You know, you need some real food in there. Low fat yogurt and fruit isn't exactly my idea of lunch."

"AGH!" I shrieked, holding up that stupid umbrella higher.

"Hey, hey, hey! Wait a second; I haven't told you my reason."

"Well, go ahead, then, ogre." I stated heatedly, simmering down somewhat; though, I dared not lower my weapon of choice.

And then Duncan's face suddenly went grave, those icy, piercing eyes becoming somewhat of a frightening distant memory. Narrowing my eyes, I stared intently back at him.

"You were assaulted, as you already know. And you are in need of a body guard. So here I am, Princess, ready to serve and protect you until this whole thing is settled." he suddenly then flashed a devious grin, "With a big fat paycheck from dear ole Dad and prissy boy, of course."

It didn't register. For a split second, I began to believe this was just his evil plot to pop back into my life and destroy everything, again, by lying to me about the whole thing. But when that serious, cold face flickered like an old movie in my memory; I dropped the umbrella. To be honest, what other way would he know about my late night assail? I was still in upset that neither Daddy or Mr. "No-it-all-ah." thought to inform me of this catastrophe--of even considered it.

"… What?" It sounded more like a demand rather than a question.

"What do you mean, 'What?'" Duncan mimicked, "Basically it means I'll be sticking with you for a long time, darling."--I heard something snap, though I figured it was probably just me--"And I, being a saint, must stay with you 24/7. It's my job. I can show you the contract, if you want." He held up a stack of papers. I read. And then I stared at is stupidly, unable to believe that the signatures at the bottom were really my father's and my boyfriend's.

By that twisted smirk he wore, I knew he was enjoying this as much as I was dreading it. I felt paralyzed for a moment, such as when I was in the hospital, my fingers twitching. This meant Duncan had to stay with me for every hour of every day, no matter where or when. He HAD to be with me at all times. My right eye twitched.

"NONONONONONONO!" Quickly pulling out my cell phone, I speed dialed my father. A moment passed. Busy. "NO!" I cried, ignoring Duncan's low chuckling to my over exaggerated reactions. I even almost fell to the floor, yet the one in subject of this devastation had beaten the floor, picking me up.

"Whoa. Are you okay?" Take no notice of his serious tone, I shook my head before pulling myself together, ripping away from his grasp.

"Get your hands off of me."

I stumbled my way to the kitchen counter, collapsing onto one of the barstools. Pitching the bridge of my nose, I shut my eyes. Maybe, by any luck, I was still sleeping soundly in Noah's guest bedroom, perfectly safe.

"By the way, Princess…"

I cringed.

"What?" I asked turning to Duncan's direction.

"I really dig the new cut. Looks nice." The young man had turned around, heading toward the living room area, proceeding to take his shirt off. I was flattered at first, but then deciding in 2 quick seconds, I'd just yell at him as much as I could and replace all the embarrassment with more fury steaming inside of me to make myself feel even better.

"What are you doing?!"

"Getting comfortable." He grunted, jumping on my white, expensive couch, and putting his hands behind his head. While he kicked off his shoes, he gave me a disgustingly attractive grin, 'Well, you know. Since I'm gunna be here for a while."

I thought I was going to cry.

"… Courtney, this is bad."

I sipped silently from my hot cocoa, eyes shut in concentration to keep my mind from feeling totally wrapped in confusion and frustration. I spent a few hours trying to calm down in my bedroom, locked inside, constantly calling Noah and my father. Eventually, Daddy picked up, and he seemed a bit uneasy. After receiving a rather incompetent explanation, I hung up, and finally decided I needed to get all of this out, minus beating Duncan with an umbrella.

Therefore, I sent Bridgette, one of my best best friends, the one I came to when I had a crisis talk about, a text saying that there was a major issue I had to tell her. In an instant, she replied. We decided on coming to one of our favorite cafés, which was just a walk away, and I believed she just about had a heart attack after seeing one of my ex boyfriends sitting next to me at our table. I then explained everything.

"Yeah, I know." I retorted back to Bridgette, pinching the bridge of my nose. The blonde girl patted my shoulder sympathetically, appearing ill at ease.

"And there's absolutely nothing I can do. I'm 21 now, and apparently my father still makes decisions for me. And Noah has completely agreed to with this. I mean, seriously? What are they thinking? Don't they know he's a criminal?"

"You know I'm right here, right?"

"Shut it, Duncan." I snarled, shooting Duncan a glare; he was sitting right beside me. Just because he was my "body guard", didn't mean he had permission to speak. Bridgette kept silent, before taking a sip of her coffee. Duncan slumped down in his chair, grumbling incoherent words; insults, I'm sure. But, frankly, I didn't care.

"There's a reason for everything." Bridgette stated lightly, avoiding my vicious look. "A reason for everything" my ass. Bridgette was my best friend and gave me excellent advice and all, but the only reason for this was to put me in misery.

"Hmmph." was all I responded.

Few more words were spoken about the Duncan ordeal, and once Bridgette and I finished our drinks, we decided that we should head home, since Geoff, Bridgette husband, was sending a million and one text messages to her inbox asking when she was coming back; I didn't care if Duncan was finished with his own. I wanted to go home and go straight to sleep.

"Thanks for talking, Bridge." I expressed thanks to the young blonde, giving her a tight hug. Bridgette nodded, smiling.

"No problem, Court. If you need anything, just call, and I'll be right there."

We parted, and I started down the broad sidewalk, the frown already beginning to curve in my face. I didn't bother checking if Duncan was with me; why should I? He could do his job without disturbing me.

But I knew for a fact that he would never do it that way.

Sighing, I looked to my right to see if the young man with a green Mohawk was there. And he was, being his usual, smug self with his hands in his pockets. However, he did something I hadn't expected him to do; not in a million years. Duncan pulled out a package of cigarettes, placed one in his mouth, and then took out a lighter. I gasped, though decided that was a stupid mistake when I breathed in a repulsive substance.

"UGH! Ew!" I coughed; Duncan looked down at me, cocking an eyebrow.

"What? Want one?" he asked innocently, holding out the little cancer sticks in front of me. I smacked them away.

"NO! Smoking is"--I coughed--"nasty. And I'd rather breath fresh air and live a long, full life, thank you very much." I declared, covering my face with my sleeve. I stifled a few coughs.

Duncan shrugged, "Suit yourself."

Moments passed by, Duncan smoking his "fag", and me struggling to ignore him and his foul habits. The sun had set, leaving the two of us basically alone on the sidewalk, in the dark, busy street beside us. I disregarded all of the memories shoving into my mind all at one time, replacing it with a frustrated huff of air.

"So you and prissy boy…" Duncan started, blowing out a puff of smoke. I glared at him.

"Don't cell him that. His name is Noah."

"Yeah. Right. So you and Noah. How long have you two been dating?"

"Long enough."

"That's not very specific, Princess." I pursed my lips. After a moment, I replied.

"A year."

Duncan just about choked on his own smoke, stupid boy, coughing. He threw his cigarette on the sidewalk, before stepping on it as he walked beside me. In a way, I was happy he kept his distance. The Duncan I knew 3 years ago would have been not even a centimeter away, his arm around me, even if I didn't like it. But Duncan was actually very considerate of my personal space at the moment. Different, but I liked it.

"That long?" He seemed shocked, which rather pissed me off. A lot. There went my solace.

"What do you care?" I retorted, crossing my arms. Honestly, he didn't have to seem so stunned to find me in a relationship for a little over a year. He should have been happy for me, okay with it. But no.

"Can't a guy be curious?" he said oh no simply, giving me an all-knowing look with those frosty blue eyes of his. I stared back for a moment, unsure of what I felt at the moment. Those icy eyes of his always managed to cool over the anger and frustration inside of me, even when we were kids. Most of the time that anger and frustration was produced by him himself, but still. I blinked, before looking away, neither smiling nor frowning.

"So are you serious with this guy?" came his voice after a minute of silence. I looked down at the ground. Unable to find the words, I thought about whether or not speaking of this issue with Duncan, being serious about it. His tone appeared completely sincere. So.. Should I?

"That's none of your business." I stated wryly, entering my apartment's lobby.

"Why NOT?" Duncan started heatedly, "It's not like it's a secret you're keeping. Why can't you just tell me?" I took my stand in the elevator, arms crossed tightly over my chest; he followed me in.

"Because." I said in a matter-of-factly tone, sticking my nose in the air. Duncan heaved out a frustrated grunt.

"Well fine."

"Fine."

"Good."

"Excellent."

Stomping out of the elevator and down the hallway to my apartment door, I shook my head, repeatedly telling myself that if I ended up dying in the next few days, it wouldn't be because I was attacked, but because I committed suicide.

I stopped at my door. My key was still at Noah's, and the spare was no where in site.

"LeShawna!" I yelled, pounding on the door. Duncan came up behind me, cocking an eyebrow. Just watching me. "UGH!" No answer. 'She must have come home and then go out with Harold again, locking the door, while I was with Bridgette.' I thought forlornly, wishing anything but being locked out of my apartment with that disgusting neanderthal. But then I realized something.

"Unlock it." Duncan looked at me with a weird gaze.

'What?"

"Are you deaf? I said unlock it!" I stated, stomping my foot and pointing at the lock, "With your little paper clip." Once Duncan registered this, he grinned a sly smirk, looking smug. I rolled my eyes, before pointing once again at my lock.

"Alrighty then, Princess."

Duncan took his damn paper clip, and did what I anticipated him to do, using his criminal knowledge to save us from sleeping outside until LeShawna came back. And in 10 seconds flat, he picked the lock and opened the door.

"Ladies first, sweetheart." Duncan grinned, obviously amused by the way I was gawking at the lock. I quickly shut my jaw, before stating, "Thanks." and heading inside. He trailed in behind me.

Glancing at the clock, it was 9:34. I really shouldn't be going to bed, but I felt so mentally exhausted by this day that a good full 8 hours of sleep would be nice. And besides, the press gave me a week off for the mental traumatizing I had gone through a few days ago, so I was good to go!

"Good night." I sniffed flippantly, heading to my bedroom. Duncan, however, determined to tag on to me. I turned around at my doorframe, arms crossed over my chest, blockading his way into entering my domain. The green-haired young man almost stumble upon me. I grimaced.

"And what are YOU doing?"

"Well, where else am I supposed to sleep?" his tone was saturated with innocence, but I overlooked it and glared with so much fervor he actually took two steps back before grinning wickedly.

"Um. No." I stated firmly, grabbing him by the shoulders, turning him around to face the living room. I pushed on his back as hard as I could, and he stumbled a few feet, but got the idea to walk forward.

"YOU," I grunted, giving another push, "Are going to sleep," one last forceful push, "HERE."

The white, couch, throw pillows a bit off due to Duncan's little nap incident, sat right in front of his. Duncan made a face. I smiled sickly sweet. He scoffed.

"I figured you hadn't brought anything to sleep with, so I'll just get you some pillows and blankets from my closet. Okay? Okay."

I ran out of the living room and into my bedroom, balling my hands into fists; I wanted to punch something. However, I raided my closet, searching for anything for that pig to sleep with. I could have just let him sleep dead cold, but I wasn't even that cold-hearted. Sighing through my nose, I decided to give him one of my OWN pillows, after finding one of my old blankets in the far corner. Grabbing that pillow, I rushed out to give it to him, shut my bedroom door, and then get some sleep.

"Okay, here you go!" I exclaimed, throwing my pillow and the spare blanket in his face, before retreating back into my room, "Good. Night."

I sighed, allowing my body to just collapse upon the soft contents of my bed on my stomach. Quite frankly, I didn't put into any mind about changing into my sleepwear, or even getting under the covers for that matter. I just wanted to sleep, get this whole thing out of my mind and dwell in the comfort of my dreams.

I shut my eyes.

And then something blaring with sound blasted throughout the apartment. I slowly got up from my position, only to find a dim glow under my door; that felonious delinquent must have figured out how to turn on the television.

"TURN THAT DOWN!" I shrieked, throwing one of my pillows at my door.

He turned it up, and his cackling joined in with that blasted racket.

"AGHHH!" I climbed inside of my covers, clothes and all, grasped my only pillow, and pulled it over my head to keep it from intruding my thoughts.

'Stupid television. Stupid light. Stupid noise. Stupid Duncan. Stupid father. Stupid Boyfriend. Stupid EVERYTHING.'

I officially deemed that my life at the moment was definitely NOT okay.

Yeah, I'm kind of making Noah a bad guy. I hope he's not too OOC, because then that would suck. But it's really hard. I kind of wonder why I chose him to play the part. Oh well. Here you go, review if you love me, fav if you love me but not so much, and just read and not do anything if you want to make me cry and stare at my hits number and wallow in self pity.