AN: okay. This started before Dickie called, and definately before Michael had shown up. I know, my order doesn't make too much sense to you. You'll understand later. Or not. Whichever. By the way,this is an extra long chapter. Enjoy!

I couldn't stop screwing things up, could I? This was how I thought while I was in the shower, trying to wash away the dirt and grime and the awful reality of it all.

First, I fell for a twenty one year old that I had barely even met. Shortly after I met him, I ended up getting attacked in an alley way- and, of course, he had to be the knight in shining armor and save me from the guy. How the hell did he even know I was in trouble?! Had he been following me?! And then, suddenly, out of nowhere, he found me at the park! Was Michael stalking me?! He hadn't seemed like it.. but, how was I to know? At the show, he first told me he loved me. Then, suddenly, he had to leave, and he didn't even give me a hug, or a kiss, or even smile at me?! Was he trying to mess with me?! Was he messing with my feelings on purpose?! No, he couldn't be, I thought to myself. He was sincere, wasn't he? I began to scrub the shampoo into my hair, but no matter how hard I scrubbed, I couldn't cleanse my head of the doubt in my mind.

Then there was Dickie- Dickie, who seemed like such an ass whenever he was near. He, too, was twenty one, but he didn't act like he was a young adult. Actually, he acted like a hormonal teenage boy that didn't understand the world of love, just that his- his dick wanted something and he was going to try to get it. Sometimes, he even acted like a spoiled brat, though that was no surprise, because he was a man, and even Julius Smith was a brat sometimes. It was odd that I had to keep Dad in line sometimes. But, he was nowhere near as bad as Dickie. Dickie was the man- or was he really more of a boy?- who had stolen my first kiss and my second kiss. As the water ran over me, rinsing the shampoo in my hair away, and one hand reached up to touch my lips. That third kiss, though.. That was all my fault, and I knew it. Granted, he probably would've kissed me whether I wanted him to or not, but I initiated it. It was all my fault. What the hell had possessed me to leave with him, anyway?! It was so stupid! Why had I done that, of all things? And... God... I had kissed him of my own free will! But... it's was a good kiss... I could still recall it as if it was happening right then...The second's hesitation, my lips hovering in front of his, before I decided to ignore my own morals and let my own wants take priority for once. For the longest time, I expected a guy's lips to be rough or hard. I really didn't know much about kisses. Dickie's lips were soft- like, baby duck down soft. I guess if I hadn't fought the first kiss so much, and if I hadn't had revenge in my mind for the second one, I would've known that already. And then, there was almost like this small bit of understanding between us. His hands held me close, but he didn't explore with them. It was almost...possessive? No, not possessive. Protective. He was trying to be there for me, trying to be a good pers-

I slipped in the shower, almost falling over. No. I couldn't start to see Dickie as a good person, I couldn't start believing the lies that easily. He probably had just tricked me into kissing him. The bastard was no good guy. No, I was in love with Michael, not Dickie. What happened shouldn't have happened. It was wrong for me to even feel anything for Dickie. Michael was the one, no doubt about it. From the beginning, he had always been my one true-

As I got out of the shower, I shook my head. How could Michael be my true love? He hadn't spoken to me, hadn't even seen me since the last wrestling show. He had treated me so coldly at the intermission of the show. It was almost icy, the way he had acted towards me. Almost unconsciously, I shivered at the memory. Something had to be going on that I didn't even know about.

My teenage girly insecurities began to take hold. What if they were planning all of this together? What if this was all some prank they were playing on me?! What if neither of them actually cared about me? Was I falling into something bigger than some real-life love triangle? Was this deeper than what I saw it to be? But, no. That would've been ridiculous. As if this wasn't ridiculous already! Overthinking everything was the last thing I should've been doing. Still, as I got dressed, I only taunted myself further with thoughts of some sort of conspiracy. When I looked in the mirror, I saw a stranger- a small, weak, dependent teenager who was lost and confused and felt alone in the world. I scowled, and so did she. Pathetic. That's all I was, and that's all I would ever be. It was like a daggar to the back, realizing how feeble I truely was on my own. Quickly, I moved away from the mirror, depressed and hurt.

Then, the phone rang. I waited for a moment, listening to the ringtone- I Caught Myself by Paramore was my default ringtone, and it seemed slightly too fitting for the person calling. I finally answered the phone, almost dreading the person on the other side. Yet, at the same time, maybe he would be able to help me feel something other than this intense self-hating and heartbreak. "Hello?" Even to myself i sounded sad. Weak. Hurt. Useless. Pathetic.

Dickie friggin Wabash. "How the hell did you get my number?" I exclaimed. "You annoy the hell out of me, you know that?"

I could almost hear his smirk. "I try my best. And how I got it isn't important. What does is this: are you having nightmares?" My mouth hung open in disbelief. There was no way he could know.

"Y-yeah...Why does that matter to you?" I stuttered. He just chuckled.

"I have them too, but I've had them for two years now. I figured yours would show up along the night." He sighed. "I know you're going to be difficult about me trying to talk to you at all, so I'll make it simple. Meet me outside your hotel in ten minutes if you're going to give me a chance." He coughed. "If you're not there, though, don't expect me to give up." Just like that, he hung up on me. He hung up on me. I immediately called him back. When he answered, I almost yelled into the phone.

"You Don't hang up on me, Dickie. I hang up on you!" And I ended the call. Immature? Yes. Worth it? Most definately.

"Yeah, it's me." He sounded really off. Almost sickly, to be perfectly honest. "How've you been?" How had I been... well, let's see. I was great except for the fact that my so-called true love treated me like shit, I hadn't talked to him in a week because of that very thing no doubt, and then there was you, Dickie friggin Wabash, who just didsn't want to allow my mind to settle with the burdens it already had, but instead was making everything so complicated that I couldn't take it anymore. Just absolutely fine.

"I'm fine. But... are you okay?" I hesistated for a moment before continuing. "You sound a little sick."

"I'm okay. Really, I'm just fine." He was lying, and we both knew it.

"Are you sure? You really dont sound that great." Something was definitely going on. Was I right to have thought something was happening that I didn't know about?

"Michael! Where are you going?" I grabbed onto his arm, stopping him. He tensed at my touch, then eased a bit. "The show I isn't over yet." I stepped Iin front of him. He wouldn't look me in the eye.

"I..uh..have to go get some medicine. I have this really bad-" He turned a little pale, and he pulled a tissue out of his pocket, then coughed into it. I saw something black on it before he threw it in the trash can nearby. Shaking my head and blinking, I silently chided myself for letting my imagination get the best of me. "I need to get it now, or I'm going to be bedridden for the next few weeks. Sorry Adrianne." He side-stepped and went past me, not a hug or a kiss goodbye. Josh gave me a look that would give Freddie Crougar nightmares for a year. Then, he quietly followed behind Michael. I stood there for a moment without breathing, shocked. Then I ran outside to, well, I didn't have a reason for it. But they were gone, as if they hadn't been there moments ago.

I didn't know what to think of it. If only Dickie told me what was going on! Maybe... maybe I could convince him to tell me, but it was highly unlikely. I almost asked him, but he spoke before I could. "I'm fine, Adrianne." He hissed coldly. "Not that you really care about it." Wait... what the hell?!

"Why wouldn't I care?" I asked, utterly lost. No... no no no. This couldn't be happening. No way. No. "Dickie, you should get some rest. It'll help you think. You're not making sense." He must've been drunk or something- no, he didn't sound the way a drunkard would. What the hell was going on?

"I'm not making sense? I'm not making sense?! You're the one pretending to give a damn about me! And I'm not making sense?!"

I laughed, "I guess I didn't think anyone deserved to be out in the rain like that. Besides... you're kinda cute. I always fall for that, though." I smiled at didn't need to know my feelings yet. He frowned in return. "What- is something wrong with that?"

Michael smiled weakly in return. He looked down, shook his head, and laughed sadly. "M-man... I thought maybe you had the same feeling I do. That I wasn't imagining this, but I guess it was just wishful thinking." He looked at me, his face reading pain and sadness. I realized that he felt the same way I had the past two weeks and realized I had answered the question all wrong. There were tears running down his face. " It was foolish, I suppose. It's not the first time my heart has been broken, but-"

"Oh, Michael!" I ran and threw my arms around him in a warm embrace. "I thought it was pure rubbish, the way I've been feeling. I've been wondering and dreaming about you for two weeks now. Oh, Michael, do you really feel the same way?!" I lost all control. My emotions took over and I just cried on him for what seemed like returned the hug, and I buried my face in his shirt. We were together, at least for that moment.

I couldn't be losing Dickie. Not already. But, before I thought things through, my anger took over."I'm not just here for your entertainment, you idiot!" I yelled right back. "I'm this thing you've never heard of- it's called a human being! You know, the one thing you'll never be!"Oh, if I had only known how much that one statement had hurt him, I never would've said it at all. But I didn't. I didn't know anything, truely.

"You know what?" I heard Dickie hiss quietly. "I wish I hadn't ever seen you, not even once. I wish I hadnt been so fascinated with you, you and your red stripe, you and your... innocence." He spat. "Everything about you confused me- and I loathe it." I almost wanted him to forgive me for anything I had done to him, for putting him through whatever it was I had put him through.

Almost. Just not enough to make a difference. "You don't know me," I whispered. "If you did, you wouldn't think this way. I thought I knew you. I was going to give you a chance." I heard myself breathing, ever so quiet. "But if this is how you're going to be , forget it. I'm not going to bother with someone who treats me like... like I'm nothing." Not wanting to listen any longer to him, I hung up the phone.

I began to cry. I could not tell you now what, exactly, happened next. All I know is that, next thing I remember, I was standing in the bathroom in front of the sink, my right wrist with a bloody gash in it, and a knife in my left hand. I dropped the knife in horror. Dear God.

What the hell was going on with me?!