L

Is an insomniac. He's only pretending to be asleep when his roommate suddenly wakes up, breathing heavily and drenched in sweat. He doesn't know what to do...and so he simply sits up, says "Mason?" and watches as the other boy punches his pillow and bites his pierced lip until it bleeds. Angel realizes that he's in a facility full of violent criminals, and he fears for the worst, but says nothing.

But Angel doesn't know.

He doesn't know about the dream where Mason's bloodstained ballerina lay dead on the floor, keeping her gunshot wounds company. The dream where Jared, another best friend, shot himself in the head...just as he did in the real world. Dreamworld is, unfortunately, quite true to life.

Angel doesn't know that withdrawal symptoms have Mason feeling like he's about to throw up, because he refused to take any of the medication that he was supposed to have for this particular reason. Angel doesn't know that he's sickly reminiscent of the nights he spent alone in his room, getting all kinds of wasted and passing out. The girls, the boys, the parties. The days he spent wishing he was dead. Angel doesn't know that he's mentally been taken back to the night when he tried to act upon his wishes.

"Are you okay?" Angel ventures cautiously.

"No." At least he's honest, Angel thinks.

"What happened?"

"One of my best friends is missing, and the other killed himself. The three of us had a pact; if one dies, the rest of us do. I should be dead."

"Oh," is all that Angel can say. He's more than a little overwhelmed by the extremely personal information that Mason has just given, but at least he now knows that his roommate wants to kill himself, not anyone else in the room...

There's a pause. Mason is focused on sensations: the feeling of the sheets underneath his hands, the too-cool air against his face, the joints and muscles in his legs all working in perfect harmony as he uncurls them. He feels his whole body relax a little, from fingers to toes; he doesn't know what brought this on, but he's starting to feel better. The panic was random, momentary. Strange.

Mason stares out the barred window with hazy cyan eyes, then whispers, "Yeah. Sorry I woke you up."

"It's okay," Angel assures him. "I wasn't asleep."

Mason takes a pause. "You're pretty nice for someone who's locked up in here. What'd you do, again?"

Angel grins darkly. "That's a bit personal, don't you think?"

"Hey," says Mason, giving his roommate a dangerous look, "I just told you some pretty personal shit. It's your turn."

Angel sighs. "I tried to kill one of those Elysian douchebags."

Mason looks surprised, but he nods. "I get it."

It's Angel's turn to be surprised. Mason is the first one who didn't appear uncomfortable after hearing that...it's almost disappointing. He blinks green eyes and asks, "Really?"

"Really. I'm sure you had a reason, right?"

"Right," Angel breathes, still in shock. "I...well...I had this sister, right-"

"You can stop there," Mason says, looking considerably calmer than he had five minutes ago. "I don't really care."

He then turns over and cocoons himself in blankets again. Angel still has no idea what's going on.

Mason is woken up in the morning for what Angel calls a "community meeting"; based on his experience in multiple hospitals, he assumes that this is a gathering in which all the crazies meet up to bitch at each other for an hour. As he walks into the community room and takes a seat next to his roommate, he gets the sinking suspicion that he's correct.

Sitting in the middle of the circle of chairs is a white-bearded older man whom Mason assumes to be a doctor of some sort, or a social worker. Directly across from Mason, at the other side of the circle, is a girl who stands out immediately: she's pretty and stick-figure thin with long, black-tipped blond hair, a hostile air about her, and too much dark makeup on her eyelids. Something about her reminds him of Jett, and he knows instantly that he wants to get to know her as soon as possible. He's got a girlfriend already, but there's no harm in being attracted to another girl, right? It wasn't as if his current girlfriend had even cared enough to try and contact him while he was in the hospital, anyway.

Next to her is a rather androgynous-looking girl with boy-short raven hair and inky eyes lined with long, thick lashes. She's of short stature, and if not for the dress she's wearing, Mason would have mistook her for a male. In fact, he's still quite unsure if she is really a she, or if she's simply a small boy in a dress. Either way, she's way too innocent-looking to belong here. Maybe she's a mass-murderer or something, Mason imagines. The quiet ones always are, aren't they?

Sitting on the pretty blond's other side is a wide-eyed girl with bright purple hair and a chain going from her pierced nose to her ear. She's dressed from the neck down in tight black clothing, and Mason might find her pretty if not for the fact that she's laughing hysterically at something that the blond said. At this point, he's a little afraid of her.

The three sitting together appear to be the only girls in the room; sitting next to the purple-haired girl (whom Mason has already labeled as "the crazy purple-headed bitch") is a rather young-looking blond boy with an aura of superiority. Despite the loud laughter coming from next to him, he appears completely unaffected. Bored, even. Next to him is a boy who radiates anxiety, but that's not what stands out about him – what stands out is his eyes. The irises are more than a little unusual in that the irises are bright red, which makes it hard for Mason to not stare at him. Also in the room are a pair of identical twins, multiple scary-looking thug-types, and a smirking older boy who looked more like he belonged in a magazine and not an institute for the criminally insane.

"I understand that we have a new admission today," says the doctor with a smile, looking directly at Mason. "We have a bit of a ritual that we do here for the neophytes. State your name and an interesting fact about yourself, and everyone else will follow suit."

There's a pause. Angel jabs him in the ribs, and Mason finally manages, "Uh, I'm Mason. Pierce. I'm Mason Pierce and I'm a drug-addicted burnout."

Laughter rings out from around the room; the Crazy Purple-Headed Bitch just becomes even more hysterical.

"Hi, I'm Autumn and I'm completely insane," she declares, following suit.

"I'm Andy and I'm a smartass," announces the blond boy with a smile.

"I-I," begins the red-eyed boy quietly, "I'm...I'm O-oliver and I have an embarrassing st-stutter."

The introductions go on in this manner until everyone in the room is done. The pretty blond turns out to be Hunter, and her friend (who is, in fact, female) is Logan. The twins are named Garrett and Barrett, though Mason's not sure which one is which; the boy with the smirk is Ian Radbourne, who claims to be a semi-famous model.

"Well then," the doctor rasps, stroking his beard, "that sure was interesting. Er, welcome, Mason."