A/N: Well, it seems this story has completely derailed from my rewrite plan train... Typical. Just typical. ANYWAY, I'm back with another addition - hopefully good enough to make up for the late update time. I'm aiming to try and finish off all my stories by the end of 2024 because DAMN have I got way too many stories that have been on life support for like... two years.

Anyway, one story is nearly done (thank god) and I'll be able to shift focus onto this one and the others. (Honestly, I'm banking on my other stuff being finished before this one). Hopefully, oh so hopefully, I'll get back to my constant update stream of covid era and pre-covid era. Weekly updates were lovely, weren't they?

I'll cut my rambling short now lovelies. Till next time,

D.L.D

Responses to reviews:

Gucci Mane LaFlare - This version is definitely a lot cleaner with its callbacks to the original series. I'm trying to flesh out the characters a lot more, including their domestic lives, so I'm glad that I managed to convey Duncan's relationship with his mother well. Also, hopefully, I've done the party justice in this chapter. It was definitely one of the harder chapters to write up so far.

Guest - Glad you love it :)

Face the Truth

Gwen's P.O.V

Going out of the house was something that I didn't do often. One thing I remembered distinctly was my mom growing worried the older I got, fretting about me becoming a hermit because I simply hated going outside. People... there were a lot of things that I didn't like about people - both back then and now. Parties weren't something I was particularly warm to, especially with my own age group. Social events in general were just a no-go for me.

Yet, tonight, I found myself planning to go to a party - thrown by one of the most social members of my grade. This should be my worst nightmare. Right now I should be thinking about a million ways to run away from this event. But, oddly, I felt pretty calm. Maybe it was because I'd been dragged into this idea by my best friend, who promised that it was exactly what I needed to get out of this emotional slump of mine. Maybe it was because part of me wanted to see other people. Maybe I was getting tired of coming up with excuses.

Whatever it was, it made me feel... different. But the good kind of different. The kind of different that made you hum as you hopped into the shower and scrubbed extra well at your skin and scalp. The kind of different that made me smile at my reflection as I actually managed to draw matching eyeliner wings on my pale face. Different didn't always have to be a bad thing; slowly I had learned how different could be good.

Now I was waiting, staring at my phone as I charged up for the night. Getting dressed up was a byproduct of my boredom; originally I had planned to just show up in ripped jeans and a random shirt, calling it a night as soon as I felt even remotely tired. I hadn't exactly strayed from that original idea - no, jeans were my best friend right now - but I'd attempted to brush up a bit. Even my hair had gotten good treatment.

Fluffing out the dyed locks for extra-good measure, I examined my reflection. Definitely an improvement - although not by much. Good.

Making me jump, my ringtone suddenly filled the air. Instantly, I grabbed my phone, disconnecting it from its charger.

"Hello?"

"How's my favourite hermit doing?" Duncan. Just as insensitive as always. Even the smirk couldn't be contained over the phone, its humour not at all missed by me as I could only shake my head. Some things never changed.

"Surprisingly, I feel excited," Deciding to admit the truth, I bit into my lip as I stared out of my bedroom window. Even though I was alone, I could feel a blush burning at my cheeks. Normally, I wouldn't even admit that much; Duncan would have to pry the truth from me. Darting my gaze back to my reflection, meeting my own uncertain eyes, I frowned, "Although, I am having second thoughts. You didn't invite me because you were looking for a pity bang, right?"

"Wow, is that what you think of me?" Duncan was sent into a small fit of hysteria. Exactly as I thought he would. If there was anything we could do to change the mood, to make the other lighten up, then it was to crack a joke. Jokes never failed to clear the air between us - especially when we felt uncertain about where we stood with each other. Tsking, Duncan continued, "And to think I trusted you with everything."

"What can I say, I'm a stone-cold bitch," Now I was laughing, shaking my head. Smiling couldn't be helped, especially when I knew that I had a whole evening ahead to spend with him. An entire evening filled with jokes, laughter and shared mistakes. "You should've known better."

"I really should have," Duncan agreed.

For a moment, silence sifted between us. Usually, they were comfortable, filled with the normal currents of a friendship made strong by years of shared embarrassment and secrets. With me and Duncan, words weren't always needed. Sometimes the silence spoke more between us than words ever could. But tonight, staring at my reflection, lip chewed by anxious teeth, I couldn't find solace in the silence. Both of us were hiding something in the silence.

Something was going to eventually break it.

"So where are you now?" I asked, getting up to search through my closet for a suitable jacket - just to keep my mind occupied. September tended to be quite mild in the evenings, with drafty winds but still semi-warm air. Bringing a winter jacket would be like wanting to boil alive; bringing a thinner jacket would be like condemning myself to sitting in a freezer. Eventually, I settled on an old bomber jacket, the black fabric embroidered with white spiderwebs across the shoulders.

"Right outside your house," Duncan answered me, his car's engine cutting short in the background. Glancing at my phone screen, I read the time and smiled: he was right on time - just like he'd said he would be.

Shrugging on my jacket, I hung up the call and grabbed my purse - which was something a girl should never go without. Always carry a bag. Trust me, it will save you when you least expect it - well, it always had for me. No matter where I went, random crap in my bag or purse always ended up being a lifesaver. Bags sometimes - no, always - could be that fine line between life and death in a late night situation.

Throwing my bag's strap over my shoulder, I pulled open my bedroom door and practically flew down the stairs to open my front door. Thankfully, my brother was much too occupied in his room to care about the sudden late-night visitor. My mom, on the other hand, was just going to answer the doorbell when I arrived to take over, sending her a smile that more or less translated to 'I've got it so don't worry about it.'

Opening a front door had never felt so easy. Nor had it ever felt so awkward. Thumping in my chest, racing at a million miles per minute, my heart was having palpitations. Even once the door was open, revealing a grinning Duncan, hands buried within the pockets of his jeans, converses scuffed on the doormat, it didn't calm down. At all. If anything it increased, making me feel heated as a strained grin spread across my face.

"Ready to go, Pasty?" Nodding toward his car, engine off for once, Duncan raised a brow.

Was I ready to go? After so long, so many excuses used just to avoid being around my own age group, was I ready to finally try and be around them? Would tonight be my first step toward real normalcy? My first real step toward getting a confession out - maybe - before everything just crashed and burned before my very eyes.

Whenever Duncan smiled at me, I would usually just say yes automatically. There was something about his smile, something that lit up his eyes, that made a girl just want to go along with whatever shenanigans he had planned. In the past, I'd allowed myself to believe that those eyes signaled adventure. His smile was the sign of a new beginning, a new story to tell. Tonight, it was no different. How could it ever be different?

Oh yeah, I was on my doorstep, chewing my lip, pondering whether to say yes or not. Whether to say yes to time with Duncan or not. Was I... crazy or something?

Taking in a deep breath, I told my heart to stop freaking the fuck out. Freaking out was for perfectionists and nerds - I was neither of those. Tonight I was Gwen, an ordinary teen with an ordinary life, trying to enjoy an ordinary night with her ordinary friend.

"Yeah, I'm ready," Nodding, I let out a heavy exhale as I gave another smile. Stepping out into the drafty September night, joining him on my doorstep, I found myself nudging Duncan in the ribs, "As long as you can keep up with me, grandpa."

"Grandpa, huh?" Amusement twinkled in his eyes as he nudged me back, a gentle blow that tickled my ribs more than attacked them. "Back in my day, I was the reigning champ of Truth or Dare. You're talking to a legend Gwendolyn."

"A legend that is still old," Smirking, I got the quip out with ease, already hopping down the front steps of my tiny porch. Thank God I had the sense to wear comfortable shoes instead of the stilt-like shit that people called high heels. "So let's get going before it's your bedtime, Dunk. I'd like to at least get a good hour in."

"That's what she said," His snicker couldn't be helped as I tsked, shaking my head as he unlocked his car. However, soon I was joining in, the pair of us laughing with each other as music filtered in the background, falling on deaf ears filled with amusement. Amusement that may have had the effect of a full round of drinks, making us merry and definitely giddy as we began to pick more fun at each other, completely sidetracking from the matter at hand.

But even though, through it all, I could tell that Duncan was right to invite me out tonight: getting outside was something I needed to do to keep my mind sane. Often, so wrapped up in my own thoughts and feelings, I found myself forgetting how refreshing it was to just live in the moment, laughing along with your best friend in the front seat of his car as the world rolled on by. And, in that moment, laughing along with my best friend in the front seat of his car, I found a piece of the old Gwen coming back. The Gwen that once had the courage to tell others how much she needed them.

Geoff's P.O.V

Everything was looking to end with a good night. If there was anything I knew from all my years of experience, then it was how to recognise a good party. Music was the first sign. Vibrating through the walls, a regular thump that filled your eardrums as you swayed to the beat, a catchy song always got things started. Then came the cheers, the shouts and yells competing with each other as games kick-started and duos melded into trios which melded into groups.

Ragers were always recognisable from the overwhelming amount of noise pouring from them. Those parties led to silly string and party poppers and all sorts of other things making their way in. Ragers, like a virus, would spread through the air. From person to person, room to room - sometimes even house to house - it would all bleed into one large beacon of music, noise and glittery objects thrown about the street.

Anne-Maria was known for her ragers. Extended over the weekend, planned for four day spans across the vacations, Anne-Maria was a world class vet when it came to throwing a rager to remember. Even Heather, with her all money and connections and high-profile guests, couldn't compete with Anne-Maria.

Parties with Annie-Maria were all about the fun to be had. Didn't matter who you were, what you wore, what you thought: as long as you wanted to have a good time, to join the crowds moving as one throughout the building, she didn't mind. Like me, Anne-Maria believed that a good party came with a sense of community; excluding people just because of who they were, meant you were being a total dick.

"You aren't winning this time, Geoff!" Anne-Maria, a determined smile tipping on her lips, pointed a wobbling finger toward me. In her left hand was a plastic cup - unlimited in its contents due to her family's supply in the restaurant storeroom. "I'm telling ya, this year's my time to shine!"

"We'll see about that, Annie," Grinning, I accepted her challenge, knowing fully well that she was going to give me the worst one possible. There was a reason why I was the one to call when you wanted a good time. There was a reason why, at every social event, I was surrounded by a ton of other people, all of them clamouring to start a new game, set a new limit, break a new record. Anne-Maria's been looking to steal my title for years; she'd never succeeded yet.

"Yeah, we will," Taking a confident swig of her drink, Anne-Maria nodded as she fell into silence.

Truth or Dare always was a minefield. Every had their own agendas, their own reasons for choosing to join the game. Party legends all the way to eager newbies could be found within a single Truth or Dare circle. Gwen, surprisingly, was in the circle today, quiet as a mouse as she tapped her fingers against her cup. Nervous. Anxious. All night Duncan and I had tried to get her out of her shell; it seemed this was slowly working. Slowly and oh-so-surely.

"You think it's wise to challenge, Geoff?" Leshawna barked out a laugh, shaking her head as she flicked her hair over her shoulder. Tutting, she simply rolled at her eyes at Anne-Maria from her side of the corner, a hand planted on her hip. "Annie, honey, he's been the Dare King since his first day in Wawanakwa."

"SO?" Anne-Maria raised a brow, liquid spilling over her hand as her arm jostled violently. Placing her free hand on her chest, as if to emphasize her status, she held her head high as she gave a wicked smirk, "It's about time someone stole his title as Dare King."

Now things were growing tense - a little friendly competition fueling the game. Not that I had a problem with it. We were all here to enjoy ourselves, to kick off the new year with a bang that would surely echo into the next. Even now, as Anne-Maria glared at me with a friendly ire, I couldn't help but grin back, adjusting my trusty cowboy hat as I signaled my silent admission to her challenge. Whenever he was needed, Geoff would always perform.

"Alright, alright, get the dare out already!" Duncan, looking antsy from the exchange, rolled his eyes as his agitated grumble left from his system. "The night's not getting any younger here."

No. It wasn't. The crowd that had gathered hadn't gotten any smaller either. Everyone was waiting to see what would happen, if Anne-Maria would finally end the long reign of King Geoff.

"Ugh, fine," Letting out a prolonged groan, Anne-Maria rolled her eyes as she set her drink to the side. Then, cricking her neck, she gave another malevolent grin as her gaze focused on me, razor-sharp and filled with a desire to win. "Geoff. I dare you to ask the question."

"The question?" Instantly, I gulped, freezing to the spot. That question was something private, given to me and only me within the quiet corners of a party last summer. No-one was supposed to know about it. No-one was supposed to bring it up. As his best bro, I'd promised Duncan that I wouldn't tell a soul about his dilemma; the only person I had told was Bridgette. She was the only person I could tell.

Scratching at the back of my neck, I let out a sigh, "I don't know about that one, Annie," Turning to the watching umpire (Noah, sober as a judge as just as critical as one), I raised a brow, "Is that move legal, Noah?"

All eyes fixed to the bookworm, nose buried within the pages of some encyclopedia that had been recommended to him. Beside him Izzy was bouncing on the spot, coked up on sugar after snorting about a dozen lines of the stuff. Someone had told her it was cocaine; no-one had bothered to stop her when she actually went to sniff the stuff off the tabletops.

"Dare's a dare," Noah shrugged, not even glancing up from his book. Instead he paused, taking a long sip from his clear cup of water. "She's within the rules."

"Damn," Cursing under my breath, I couldn't help but feel the sweat pile under my brow. Truth or Dare rules meant that I had to ask the question. Best bro rules meant that I wasn't supposed to tell anyone about that question. People would connect the dots; the truth wouldn't be hidden anymore; Anne-Maria knew that. She was putting me into a tough situation - an impossible moment where I had to make a choice.

Everyone was watching. Silent, letting the music sift through the air like something dramatic was going to happen, they were all hanging on every second. Anne-Maria, sure that she had won, was getting ready to wear her signature victory grin. Noah, unbothered, continued to flick through his book, ignore Izzy's not-so-quiet whispers about how she thought I was totally going to choke. Everyone else was just there. Waiting.

"Don't worry Geoff, you don't have to do it," Bridgette, squeezing my hand within hers, shot me a soft smile. Aside from Anne-Maria, she also knew about the question. All of us knew what it would unleash. We knew what trouble would follow. But clearly Anne-Maria hadn't considered that in the rush of opportunity that had entered her mind.

"I've gotta do it, Bridge," Squeezing her hand back, taking in a deep breath, I walked into the middle of the circle. Duncan was going to give me an earful after this; but, to keep us all safe, I had to keep this going. Once Duncan's standing was gone, mine would be the only thing keeping us safe from Heather. "It's the only way."

"Ask away, party boy," Anne-Maria, definitely too drunk to even comprehend what she was truly saying, staggered toward me. Rolling off her in fumes, the strong scent of alcohol filled the air as she approached. Raising a brow, she placed both her hands under her armpits, flapping them like wings. "Unless you're chicken?"

"Chicken?" I echoed, eyes wide as I took in her comment. "The only chicken I know is chicken nuggets. So yeah, I'll ask it."

Swallowing thickly as I scanned the surrounding crowd, I took in a deep breath. Conversation had picked up now, some people drifting from the watching groups and others starting another game on the other side of the restaurant. Less eyes were watching now. For once that was a good thing.

"Guys," Closing my eyes, I let out a sigh. "You gotta answer this truthfully and take a shot. Did anyone here ever crush on their best friend?"

Instantly silence swallowed up the room. Everyone had their suspicions. Everyone had their own conclusions as to who the question was targeted at - who it had always been targeted at whenever we circled back to it. Even if that theory couldn't be farther from the truth - because there was no truth behind it. Nothing. Zilch. Nada. But Anne-Maria had reignited it, back from Sophomore year, back from when Gwen had freshly broken up with Trent.

"No opt out," Anne-Maria reminded, a snarky, smug voice as she took her own shot. "Mine was our resident movie starlet, Dakota Milton."

"She can't legally do that," Gwen, incredulous, stared at Noah with a jaw hung open with complete shock. Hand balled, scrunching the material of her jacket's sleeves she frowned, "Can she do that?"

"It's a legal move," Noah sighed, again not even sparing a glance. Instead, sardonic and in a deadpan, he continued his brief explanation. "An extension dare. We all answer or we take a drink."

Now the pressure was definitely on. Everyone was shifting, nervous or uncertain, as Anne-Maria grinned like the wolf she was, soaking in the victory. Only, I couldn't let her have that moment for too long - not when this moment was meant to be a joyful one, looked back on with pleasant memories.

"Bridgette Knowles," I declared firmly, placing down the now empty cup I had. Nodding toward the next person beside me, Bridgette, I signaled for her to continue to the trend. No-one was going to die of embarrassment tonight. At least, as long as I could help it for.

One by one, we went round. Only at Gwen did we pause, a nervous, lip-biting pause, as she couldn't even bring herself to look anyone in the eye. Instead, in a low, mumbling tone, she let out the name, swallowing the contents of her cup.

"Trent Thompson."

For a moment everyone was silent. Not the answer they'd wanted. Not the answer they'd anticipated either. Everyone had expected Duncan Carter - Gwen's best friend ever since she could toddle around in diapers. But Gwen was much smarter than many gave credit for. Trent had been her best friend; Trent had become her boyfriend. We all know what happened after. Especially Duncan.

"Hasn't happened yet," Duncan gave a wolfish grin, lifting up his cup and downing its contents anyway. "Nice try though, Annie."

And, after that one tense moment, everything became easy once more. Everyone kept talking, Truth or Dare came to an end and Anne-Maria excused herself to try and freshen up after the intense round of questions. But, in the background, Gwen and Duncan were awkward and tense messes. Unlike everyone else, they couldn't sink back into the background of the party because the bubble had finally popped.

They both couldn't pretend the truth wasn't there anymore.

Anne-Maria's P.O.V

Fuck I felt terrible. That was all I could even think as I puked my guts out into the porcelain toilet bowl of my family's personal bathroom. Too much had definitely been drank. Too many thoughts and too many schemes had definitely flitted into my mind over the past half hour. Challenging Geoff shouldn't have even been a thought, but I needed to get Heather off Dakota's back. Originally I was going to bring up last summer, the time he'd been spotted a college party an hour away from town. But, when I saw Gwen and Duncan arrive together I seized my chance.

Pinning Gwen and Duncan had seemed easier than any other option. Heather always liked to target Gwen, and although I didn't hate her, she wasn't exactly my friend either. Dakota needed the time off more than her. Dakota needed to sink into the background, slip into the buzz of every other student, so that she could get away from Heather's nasty snares. But, of course, my plan had backfired. Tremendously.

I just had to go and open my big mouth.

"You know, Heather's got us all fucked. We all think that we can escape it but we can't," I groaned out, shaking my head as I glanced up at Dakota, currently holding my hair back. Burning on her face, a bright blush gave away that had heard my confession, babbled to the watching audience as I tried to trump Geoff Calvert - a sign of just how formidable I could be. How much better than Heather I could be. Only I made myself look like a complete and utter fool.

"Annie..." Dakota sighed, seeming like she wanted to say more but couldn't. Instead she bit into her lip, turning away from me as she kept my hair away from my face.

"I tried, Koats," Gagging, I had to pause as more gunk ended up in the toilet. Instantly, I flushed it, recoiling from the sour smell of vomit and toilet water. "I really did try. But all this glitz and glamour, the big ass party, it's a plaster over a gaping wound."

Heather had done more damage than any of us could ever quite say. Wawankwa itself had damaged us all much more than we would ever admit. Even Heather herself, filled with her poison and thorns, was damaged on the inside. None of us here, not a single person, could call themselves whole.

"We all think that we can be independent," I turned away from the toilet, trying to banish all nausea that wanted to rise in my chest. Dakota still did not face me, she didn't even engage, instead turning on the tap and washing at her already clean hands. "I won't ever admit this sober, but we can't be independent, Dakota. Heather, she's got us all under her thumb. That bitch, trying to help Chris out with his stupid agenda, has molded us all into the characters they want us to be."

For too long Dakota was silent. All that filled the air was the gush of water leaving the faucet, swirling around the sink before it disappeared down the drain. Dakota, stood at the sink, simply continued to wash her hands. No doubt, as she did, she felt the pressing heat of my stare, the thoughts that swarmed into my head and wanted to be said but could only remain in there; I didn't want to scare her off.

Eventually, turning off the faucet, Dakota sighed, "No, Annie- "

"I know what I'm saying," I couldn't help myself. Deep down I knew that she was passing it all off as drunk ramblings, stupid musings from my intoxicated brain. But I knew better. I felt better. All of this, the sudden dread and shame and regret that flooded my system came from somewhere. That somewhere was Heather. "What I'm telling you is that you need to act like it doesn't bother you. To keep yourself safe, to keep your friends safe, you act like shit can't touch you."

Because if you did, you began to crumble. You became weak. Heather snared you up once more, trapped within her strings and forced to perform in her stupid puppet shows. Dakota couldn't end up like that; I'd die before she ended up in that position once more.

"Is that why you threw Gwen and Duncan under the bus?" Dakota cried out, her eyes red in the glow of the bathroom light. Tears poured from them, slipping down her tan cheeks as she looked at me, filled with something that I'd always recognised: disbelief. Horror. "To protect me?"

"Yes." Always.

Again the silence swallowed the room. Dakota finished with getting herself composed, sniffing and wiping delicately at her face, before helping me to adjust myself. Not that I wasn't already a mess before barging in here, ready to puke up a storm. But, even with all the tension in the air, Dakota still helped me out. Smoothing out my hair, wiping at the weird splotches on my face, she made sure we were both presentable before we left the bathroom.

"Oh, hey ladies," As soon as we got into the hallway, we more or less collided with Lightning. One of the last people most people would have wanted to see after a drunken babble. But not me. No, I knew how to flip this moment on its head, erase the pain of reality in a brilliant blaze of the present.

"Lightning, just in time!" Instantly, I perked up, slipping back into character - the Jersey Shore reject - as I slung my arm over his shoulder. Bumping my hip into his, I grinned as I wiggled my brows, "I was looking for a candidate to help me zip up my dress. You think you're fit for the job?"

"Course I am, I'm sha-mazing," Lightning, just as I knew he would, easily slipped into his role. Because we were all hard-wired that way. Like machines, those weird robot thingamajigs, we all knew how to slip into our programmed roles: I was the Jersey Shore Reject; Lightning was the jock; Heather was Queen Bee. This was how it was. This was how it always would be.

"That you are," I nodded. Turning toward Dakota, staring at me with a worried look - the sort that pinched at her brows and face - I raised a brow, "Oh and Koats?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't tell anybody what I did for you tonight," I say, already heading off with Lightning. The perfect way to cover up. The perfect way to get back into my old self: unfeeling, cold and built up like the many layers of hairspray I sprayed on my poof. "It'll be our little secret."

Because I already knew the truth: she didn't love me and I was never meant to be hers. So why not continue to live the lie? A Jersey Shore Reject like me could only ever wish to become Queen Bee.