My eyelids cracked open just as the sun was setting, so I already considered today a success compared to the past few. Maybe I was starting to get back on track to a normal sleep schedule! Pfft, yeah. Like that would last long.

It was a quiet Saturday, as most Saturdays in that apartment complex were. The weekdays at Younghaven may have been obnoxious to try and live through - there was probably a party every night - but absolutely no one stayed on campus for the weekend. It transformed into a ghost town overnight. It was always weird, but not really surprising. Aside from an occasional Saturday football game at home in the home stadium, there wasn't a damn thing to do. Even students in the residence halls fled town.

I shuffled out of my room with my hair and makeup a mess. I seemed to have the apartment all to myself lately, so I was admittedly startled to find Jordan and Colette sitting in the living room, working on some sort of project together.

"Morning, guys." I stretched and yawned, ducking into the bathroom. They returned the greeting, but I could see a dash of judgment in both of their expressions. I tried my best to shove my annoyance to the back of my mind. I forgot that, with them, waking up late was somehow equivocal to failing as a human being. And god forbid you might allow yourself to be seen in public without a full face of makeup. When I emerged from my hiding space, hair at least pulled out of my face and makeup remnants removed, I planned on heading directly back to my room. However, I was interrupted by a knock at the door. Neither of my roommates seemed too bothered with answering so, with an eye roll, I decided I would just go get it. Was I just expected to do everything?

"Oh, hey!" I gladly pulled the door open after checking the peephole, mood immediately lifted. "Morning Michael!"

"Morning?" His smile was infectious. "Do you know what time it is?"

"I'm kind of a night owl," I shrugged. "Always have been. College really brought out the worst of it, though. What's up?"

"Looking for more sugar, mostly. I also wanted to see how things were over here. It looked like something went down last night?" He gestured with his head to the holes in the wall from the fight between Jay and the Darts. Clearly, no attempt had been made to patch things up just yet.

"Ah…" I glanced behind myself, but it didn't seem like Colette or Jordan had taken any interest in what we were saying. "I'd rather discuss it outside." Better safe than sorry. I snatched the sugar and stepped out into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind me quickly.

"Everything alright?"

"I don't want my roommates getting worried." My voice raised in a nasally manner at the end of the sentence to mock them as I passed Michael the plastic bag to hold. "They're more like my stepmothers than my friends. But, anyway, as far as last night went…" I began pouring the sugar into the container. "It sounded like there was a fight in the hallway. They actually managed to disconnect the power to my room, so I decided to go check it out. It turns out that this guy, Jay, was getting the snot kicked out of him by the Darts." Michael's bright smile vanished. I hadn't seen him look serious about anything thus far and it was decently unnerving. Maybe I should just lie…

"Hey, I thought we talked about it and you said you would come get me if they tried anything again?"

"Brenna?" I heard Jordan call. I decided to ignore her.

"There wasn't time," I cringed. I was honest to a fault. I couldn't help it. "Jack had what looked like a stake or something and seemed pretty intent on using it. A few threats from me and they were on their way, easily enough. By that point, there wasn't any reason to wake you up." He nodded, accepting my explanation, but still looked worried. "I threatened to call the cops, but I never did…I don't even know what to do now. I'm getting really concerned about my safety staying here, not to mention everyone else's, but Jay wasn't badly hurt and there aren't any cameras. It would be a case of he said she said that wouldn't get us anywhere and will probably just piss them off worse." I shrugged, arms slapping my sides on the way down.

"Brenna!" Jordan called again, sounding annoyed. I took a breath before continuing to talk with Michael.

"I really don't know what to do. I mean...You don't think they would have actually killed him...Right?" Michael was about to speak, but I cut him off when I heard my name being called yet again. I could already tell this wasn't going to be good. "Shit. Sorry, I'm gonna have to deal with this." I gave another exaggerated eye roll, shoving the rest of the sugar at him. "Just keep the sugar. I'll stop over for it later or something!" He just shook his head, smiling as he backed away toward his own apartment.

"Good luck," he offered.

"Brenna, we wanted to talk to you for a minute." Jordan, still seated in the living room, patted the armchair next to her indicating that I was to sit. Colette leaned forward in a very conspicuous way, trying to catch a glance of our mystery visitor before the door shut. It didn't look like she was successful, not like it mattered.

"What's up, guys?" I had forgotten how uncomfortable the cheap apartment furniture was until I sat down, but it was enhanced by the stiffness of the meeting.

"We saw who you left here with the other night." It was clear that Jordan would be doing all of the talking and Colette was just there to offer mostly insincere facial expressions that might have been something one could liken to sympathy. "We just wanted to say that we are worried you're falling in with the wrong crowd." I stared at her. She had to be kidding. "We've heard things about those biker guys, and we just don't want those rumors to start rubbing off on you. It sounds like all they do is drink and…" She lowered her voice, looking around the room as though someone was listening in. "Smoke pot. We don't want you becoming one of those kinds of people."

I stared at them in absolute silence for several beats, fighting all expression out of my face. Really? That was their concern and reasoning for interrupting my conversation – that I was finding friends other than them since they weren't around anymore?

"Guys," I blinked a few times and began to stand, attempting to keep my temper in check despite immediately wanting to jump to the boys' defense. "I think I'll be fine."

"We're just very worried," Jordan insisted. "You've really changed since you got here."

"Ok, I'll keep it in mind," I snapped. As I walked away, clenching and unclenching my fists, I forced the corners of my mouth up to keep from pulling into a scowl. "By the way, happy birthday!" I called out, trying very hard not to slam the door to my room behind me. I was half successful.

I plopped down on the bed, but immediately stood up again, unable to be still. Me? Changed? They were the ones who were changing! Just because I went out to ONE party and on a couple motorcycle rides did not mean I was headed down the path to self-destruction. And fuck them! If they wanted me to hang out with a "respectable" crowd like the company they kept, then maybe they could invite me along on their way out the door instead of strolling right past me! Was I expected to just sit at the door, waiting for them to get home like their puppy to find out if I would have the privilege of escorting them out for the evening? Fuck that.

I needed to busy myself with something else, but I couldn't sit still, so I decided to just start getting ready to go out. Where or with whom, I wasn't sure, but I was going to make a bang when I did. That was for sure. I rifled through my closet, picking out the edgiest and darkest clothes that I owned. The sweater I chose to drape over my black skinny jeans was entirely black save for the white eye sockets, nose, and teeth of a skull taking over the majority of the front. I laced up my favorite combat boots and threw Paul's jacket on as the cherry on top. They wanted to paint me as a bad guy? Fine. Might as well start going along with the role. I pulled out the darkest eyeshadow palette and lipsticks I owned and got to work.

"Come on, let's get you home." He attempted to guide her out the front door, but she wasn't making it easy. "You're drunk."

"You know, you're reeaaal nice." She slurred, stumbling on the carpet, but managing to keep herself upright. "I dunno what I wooduv done without you here."

"Hey," a girl she vaguely recognized grabbed her by the arm. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah!" Her eyes were lidded and she was hardly able to hold them open.

"I mean, are you sure you want to be leaving with him?" The other woman eyed her companion. "Maybe you should stay here for a while and sober up first?"

"I'm fine!" She jerked her arm back, nearly toppling over in the process. "He just needs a place to sleep for the night. It's not like that at all!" She knew the argument seemed flimsy, but she completely trusted this guy to not try anything. What was his name again? It didn't matter - he seemed like a perfect gentleman.

"Ok, just…Call me when you get home." The other woman conceded. "You're a grown woman, and even though this is really stupid, I can't exactly stop you."

"Okayyyy, okayyyyyy…" She shooed the other woman off.

"And as for you." The companion jabbed a finger into his chest. "She's drunk as shit. You better not fuck around with her." He shook his head vigorously in a horizontal manner.

With his arm around her, once her friend left, he steered her toward the road and his car. He was getting lucky tonight! Almost home free! After just a few yards, however, she was beginning to feel winded.

"Woah there." She toddled to a halt. "Let's, uh…" She took a few more deep breaths through her nose. Not here...Please not here... "Let's take a break here for a second…"

"Are you ok," he asked, attempting to put some distance between himself and the girl. Maybe she was a little more inebriated than he had initially suspected.

"Yeah, I'm totally…" Her eyes widened and clamped a hand over her mouth as quickly as she could. She didn't need to say anything more as she hurried off to the tree line. She kicked her heeled shoes off along the way, but she still barely made it in time for the contents of her stomach to violently stage a revolt against her body. At least she was out of view from anyone passing by. He winced at the sounds of her retching, following her for a few steps to make sure she was ok, debating how he should play the rest of this out. Was it worth trying to take her home at this point? Could he just leave while she had her back turned and pretend this never happened?

But he would never have to worry about that. He barely even had time to react to the hands on either side of his face before they wrenched his head to the side in a twisting, jerking motion. It was like his body completely disconnected with his brain. In fact, it had. To his horror, he could not feel or move any part of himself. He was only supported by the individual behind him. All he was able to do was stare off at the girl in the distance, begging his lungs to draw breath, blinking. Praying.

"That's really no way to treat a lady…" Those words, spoken by a gravelly voiced man, were the last he would ever hear as he was tossed carelessly over the individual's shoulder.

By the time she stood up and turned around, she realized she was alone.

"Fucking prick…" She mumbled in dismay, wiping her mouth on the back of her sleeve. "I didn't even puke that much…"

Unfortunately for me, as my door banged open and I strutted into the living room donning my new style, I discovered that I ended up making my elaborate entrance for no one but the couch, an armchair, and 4 kitchen bar stools. Jordan and Colette were long gone. This only served to stoke my flames further. It was clear now that they were only hanging around earlier to give me a god damn lecture. Fuming, I continued to stomp out of the apartment complex and down the street. My feet seemed to know where they were carrying me even if I wasn't paying attention. I shoved headphones in my ears and trudged on. My hair was soggy, but the coat kept me warm enough in the autumn air. Soon enough the breeze would dry and style it into its usual curls and I would be fine. I just wished I could find a damn song on Pandora that resonated with me at the moment. I mashed the skip button again.

I realized quickly that Jordan and Colette had set me in a mood. I was mad at them, mad at my headphones for falling out of my ears every other step, mad at the breeze for blowing hair in my face, and eventually, I was mad at walking. I found the first bench I could and more or less threw myself onto it, but t wasn't until I took a few deep breaths and looked around that I realized I had been here before. It was the pavilion I stopped by the first night I came to Young Haven. My spot. I sighed and propped my feet up, looking out over the water. My walk had helped me sort out some of my emotions and I was beginning to realize that I was being kind of childish by getting mad at every minute thing that crossed my path.

What I realized was that, at the core, I was furious with Colette and Jordan for abandoning me. After all, it was her and my other New Haven friends that convinced me to move my life out here in the first place. Then, when I finally show up, they all have their own friends to get back to and I'm just some charity case to them. Were they only going to be my friends when I was getting broken up with? Were they only acting like they were my friends because they felt sorry for me? The last time I had been rejected friends like this was probably back in high school and the sting was now unfamiliar and, as a result, extra harsh.

However, I also recognized that I was upset with myself for not being home more often and actually bonding with my roommates which might have altered the way this entire year was shaping out. I was jealous that they had this great connection and that it made me feel like an outsider. The truth was, they had tried to involve a few times me before but my own pride prevented me from going out with them. I was too envious of the two of them having a great friendship together that I didn't stop to think about the fact that maybe all three of us could have formed a relationship. Now, even if I wanted to try and fix things, I had no idea where to start.

And yet, just when I was starting to think reasonably, I felt my pocket buzz.

"I don't understand why you're acting this way," Jordan typed, and I felt my cheeks already flushing. "We only want what's best for you!" It was followed up with a smiley face and heart emoji. What a fucking bitch. I glared at the words, clenching my hand into a fist around the phone to keep myself from chucking it into the river. I was on my feet and pacing when I realized that probably wouldn't be the best idea. Mentally, I had traveled right back into the argument where it had left off in the living room.

It felt like so much longer, but in reality, I only met Marko on Wednesday. That was 4 days ago. At most, I was wearing extra makeup and a different coat. I was the exact same person I was before I met Marko with the same interests and values. But, even if I wanted to try some new things, what impact did the boys have on the person I was inside? And who were my roommates to tell me what I could and couldn't do? I would be legally allowed to drink very soon. Would they look down upon me for choosing to enjoy an adult beverage as well? And, honestly, I didn't see the huge deal with weed, either. I had just never done it. College was supposed to be a time to experiment and have fun. Maybe that wasn't their cup of tea, but how dare they try to tell me I would be less of a person for trying to experience something new! I joked about it before, but they were really starting to act like my parents used to and I was not looking for a replacement set.

I wondered if this fight was something inevitable or if it could have been fixed. Maybe we were all just growing apart and this was an inevitable part of that process. Jordan and Colette always seemed predestined for this white picket fence life with great jobs, rich husbands, and perfect houses with two perfect children and a perfect dog in their perfect fucking suburbanite lifestyle. While I told myself that was something I wanted…It wasn't. I wasn't sure if it was because my own family had broken so badly, but I just couldn't see myself leading that life. Not now, at least. Now I deserved to be young and free while I still had a chance! I was told once to enjoy college because it would be the last time in my life that I would ever be living my life for myself and no one else. I lived my first college experience for my ex, Ethan. I didn't want to make that mistake again.

I sounded so certain in my head, but my heart was lost. These friends in Young Haven were what made me sane again after the previous school year's failures. Without them, I wouldn't be here. I might not even be in school, let alone pulling the grades I was. I owed them a lot. At the very least, they deserved a chance to sit down and talk things out. On the other hand, I felt more welcome with these boys, nearly perfect strangers, then with people I had known for a quarter of my existence. That just wasn't right. The boys didn't judge me for my friends outside of their group. They might not meld with my compatriots so well, but the boys never had a negative thing to say. They didn't ask me to give anyone up. Colette and Jordan did. My roommates didn't give me a direct ultimatum, but I felt it was most definitely implied. And, in my experience, if someone demands that you choose between them and another person…You never choose the one listing demands. Wasn't there a way I could just keep them both?

My phone buzzed again, but when I saw Jordan's name flash across the screen, I decided to shove it back into my pocket rather than open myself up to becoming enraged again. As I did, my hands brushed past a small box of some sort. Curious, I pulled it out and discovered that they were Paul's cigarettes. Those were supposed to help with stress, right? Should I…? No. I put them back and placed my hands gripped on the pavilion railing, tightening until my knuckles turned white. I looked over the barricade and stared into my reflection in the clear, calm water below. This really sucked. The only people I could turn to for advice were the only people I couldn't go to at all. The song changed over on my iPod and I just let it play.

Stateless - Bloodstream

"Wake up, look me in the eyes again.
I need to feel your hand upon my face.
Words can be like knives,
They can cut you open.
And the silence surrounds you,
And hunts you..."

My grip loosened on the railing and I contented myself with leaning against the bars, enjoying the breeze on my face and the scent of the damp earth and river. My shell bracelet jingled as I rested my chin on my hands, calling my attention back to it. I had forgotten it was even still attached to me. I traced my fingers over the beads, stopping to rub at the small bird in a therapeutic manner. It had become my way of handling anxiety and I felt certain that some of the bird's features had already been rubbed down due to overuse. I was tired of living my life like this - at the beck and call of Jordan and Colette. Tired of living for other people. It was time that I lived for myself. That's all I had for certain. That was maybe the one positive takeaway I had from the death of Joshua. I had to live for myself.

"I think I might've inhaled you.
I could feel you behind my eyes.
You've gotten into my bloodstream.
I could feel you floating in me."

I held in a shriek when I felt someone lightly touch my shoulder, but I was glad I held it in. "Jesus Christ, David!" I yelled, yanking my headphones out. I must have had my volume up way too loud if I couldn't hear his bike over it. And there it sat, purring away.

"Relax," he grinned, pulling out his own cigarettes. I was annoyed that he found this amusing. As always, he offered me one before lighting his own and, as always, I turned it down. See? I wasn't so different! "What has you so tightly wound?"

"Fight with the roommates," I spit out. "They're pissed off I'm hanging out with you guys. They say you're a bad influence on me."

"Well, they are right," he smirked. "I am a terrible influence." I snorted, drumming my fingers on the railing, expression like I had swallowed something sour. "You gonna be alright? Maybe a ride would help you clear your thoughts?"

"Yeah," I sighed, shaking my head and running a hand through my hair. I realized that I had started shaking my head around the point that I got to the pavilion and hadn't really stopped since. "Fuck 'em." Tucking everything away, I followed David, settling onto the back of his bike. It somehow seemed more dangerous, or more powerful, than the ones belonging to the others. He seemed to notice my apprehension.

"You think you're ready for this?" It felt like he was referencing a lot of things at once.

"I think I am." I curled tighter around his midsection. "Just get me the hell away from here."

Author's Note: Okay, okay - don't kill me! That's the actual end of this chapter. No updates until next week. :( I know it kind of feels like filler, but I promise you, a lot of very important things just happened if you were looking carefully enough. ;)

As always, thanks to ShiplessOceans and JakkiiSukaru for the reviews and predictions! Thank you all for reading and I'll see you all next Wednesday!