Author's Note: I am ready to abandon school altogether and just rip out my vocal chords right this second. Please help me, dear, kind viewers.

Day Sixteen: Move Like U Stole It by ZZ Ward

She knew this was so, so wrong on so, so many levels. She knew that she was being cruel.

No, no, no, this was not happening.

Hell, she knew just how much she was going to hurt him once this night was all over. But she just couldn't resist.

Ugh, she was such a heartbreaker. But she couldn't help it. It was as though she was addicted to it. Maybe even turned on by it.

She moaned quietly as they fumbled to remove each other's' clothes. She grasped the buttons, groaning when they weren't cooperating. He laughed at her frustration. She bit him on the lip in retaliation; she was always a bit feisty when it came to the subject of men, sex, and love.

"Spence—"

"Shut up."

He didn't argue. She pushed him down onto the mattress in the room.

As much as he may have been exactly like all the other boys, something was different for her. What was that feeling stirring inside her? For once, she actually wanted to have sex with a man. She actually wanted to touch him, to kiss him, to caress him. She wanted to take some sort of leap of—

No, no, no. This wasn't happening. Faith didn't exist. She was not falling for anyone. This would not end in happily ever after.

She pulled away from him. Without thinking, she blurted out, "I want you to take me in your arms and do whatever you want with me."

He looked at her, kind of confused. He opened his mouth to question it, but she cut him off.

"Just do it."

He began to kiss her neck, sweetly at first, and she had never felt adored in her life before then. She realized how warm she felt inside. What was that feeling stirring inside her?

She felt his skin touch hers as he began to peel off her skin-tight dress. She wanted to shiver, but knew better than to show real vulnerability like that.

More ginger kisses were planted from the base of her neck down her spine. His fingers touched her back, tracing small circles in her skin.

"Aren't you going to do something?" she asked.

He shrugged. "All I really want to do is make love to you," he answered.

A person with a heart would probably melt at such a sweet claim. But to someone living dead like her, this was nothing more than a mere lie.

"So do it," she thought aloud.

He was willing to. She was kind of surprised. She watched as he kissed up and down her arms, right on the scars she had acquired over the years, almost as if his lips would cure them and make them go away. She shivered, not even containing it this time.

She pulled away, finally. "Okay, if we're going to do this, we're going to do this the only way I know how," she explained. "No love, no sweet nothings; just sex," she elaborated.

He looked somewhat crestfallen. "Really? That's all you want?" he inquired.

She nodded, looking away from his clear blue eyes. "I can go somewhere else if you're not interested," she said finally. She was hoping for a no, for a yes…she didn't know.

She felt fingers wrap around her wrist and she wanted to jump. She realized it was only him and she relaxed a bit. She still felt guilty.

"I'm not going to pay you," he said finally. "I don't look at you that way," he said.

She scoffed. "Like a whore? Everyone else does," she answered forlornly. She felt so lovelorn now…what an odd role reversal.

"I don't," he repeated.

She still couldn't bear facing him. She shivered when she felt his skin again. And then his lips.

She lay down in the sheets, thinking more and more and more.

No, no, no, this was not happening. She was not falling in love.

Love. Four letters. Noun. Intense feeling of deep affection. A deep romantic or sexual attachment to someone. A great interest and pleasure in something. Affectionate greetings conveyed to someone on one's behalf.

She couldn't possibly be falling in love, could she? That was a euphoria a girl like her should never learn to experience. The only euphorias she could feel were acquired through drugs or alcohol or another incapacitating substance.

Facts, facts, facts. She knew facts. She knew not of feelings. Certainly not this feeling.

And him?

She looked over in a daze. He was asleep so peacefully, so beautifully.

This wasn't happening!

But it was. She realized that it was. He had stolen her heart now. There was no going back.

She sighed. There was a reason that girls like her didn't mix business and pleasure. This was the very reason. And though people argued that her work was pleasure in itself…it wasn't.

But what she felt…was pleasure. For once, things felt like they meant something, as odd as it was. She couldn't understand. It didn't make sense. Why? She had no clue.

Guest:You guys don't have to lie...I already know it was crap.

Tiva Shaye: Thank you very much!

eveningshades1107:I wish I could get my brain to sit still and write, let alone compose music. I've tried, tried, tried so many times, but I fail. I am horrible at writing music. My voice is going, I suck at violin, I should probably just give up on this whole music thing. I'll stick with writing. And yes, I have decided that smoking is disgusting in real life, but is super-glamorous on a screen. And ha ha, I love your Spencer list.

AL3110:Thank you and good job on the ZZ Ward thing. But this was horrible. I tried. I failed. Like, really failed. My brain is going. I just can't wait for this stupid concert to be over.

Spobyforever259:

This is the story of Cupid. There once was a cherub named Cupid. If you ask me, the whole thing is stupid. His mom got all spiky, he went nutso for Psyche and they named their new daughter Veluptid.

I'm sorry, but my brain isn't working with me and I am under a lot of stress. I would say that I think the next one will be better, but I really don't know anymore.

Also, I failed to mention this beforehand, but what you read is kind of like a concept for this little fetus thought in my brain. It's really a Haleb fanfiction, but I have Spoby kind of like a secondary plotline and I can't really reveal a lot, but it's based off of Marina and the DIamonds' "How to Be a Heartbreaker" (as you know all my novels are based off of songs). So, obviously, Spencer is a hooker. I just ruined the whole story. But I'd like to publish it sometime in the future. I don't know when, but sometime.

Okay, I'll try not to do something stupid so I won't have to sing in the concert tomorrow. -Kayson