"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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Brackie
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i love him, i love him, i love him, i love him
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
And it was as soon as the girl left Brendan realised why he was doing this for her.

It was 3 months after he arrived at Bayview. He'd just broken the heart of one of the kindest most beautiful people in the world, and, well, he was feeling rather down. But you can't really blare that to the world when you don't have any friends outside of clubs. You suffer silently, your performance plummets, and you become late for Mr. Kwong's math class.

They were working on a project. Maths project. He'd never done one before, and everyone else had already been paired up. All except one person. Kwongy paired him with Liz Polanski, a goth girl. Short goth girl.

She...wasn't like him at all. She wasn't even sure if she did like him, not like he cared. Remember, when you're a loner, you don't really care for impressing people. But they worked, they chatted every so often, and Brendan was so oblivious to the eyes of one of his classmates, who was looking over at Liz and him with a combination of contempt and jealousy. Mainly Liz.

A few days later, he was cutting down behind the school to get to his class quicker. If it was on the other side of the school, then was definitely quicker to go around rather than bumble through the crowds of students. He didn't see the guy following him, grabbing him and throwing him against the brick wall. He didn't see the knife.

But he saw everything afterwards. The snarling. He had something against her. Or he wanted her. It was something, he could barely remember. He never really found out what he wanted, only that he was grateful when the girl appeared suddenly behind him and hit him over the head with a discarded beer bottle.

He never bled. But he was furious. Brendan never questioned what happened, or what was going on, he only fled to his next class, silently and not answering the teacher when she asked why he was late. English wasn't meant for truthful answers.

But he knew that this strange goth girl had done him a massive favour. She'd essentially saved his life. He never found out how she knew the guy with the knife, or how the guy with the knife knew her, or even how he knew him, but he didn't question it. There was plenty of time to write up new theories on how it all went down behind the scenes later. The important thing was that Liz showed up for second period Maths, safe and sound.

They worked silently from there in.

Silence ran good with Liz Polanski.

Her scribbled notes were still clasped in his hands as her hair, then her clothing, then her skin, blended into the inky darkness of the cave. She was gone now. With his gun. He had his own gun now. 12 bullets was it?

12 to 50.

It wasn't like he was going to use them anyway.

He knew Liz was a smart girl. She was spectacular on that one and only project they shared, but he was never paired with her again. Liz was smart, smarter at the things he never could be. She had a plan. She'd thought it over. She'd taken every single risk, and now it was paying off. Brendan was part of her life once more, and he'd returned the favour. He'd done what no one else could.

DIDN'T THINK I'D HAVE PEOPLE I'D CARE ABOUT UNTIL UNIVERSITY.

And the best part was that he'd done something that made him famous. Someone cared about him, people would remember him, people would know his name. In this whole fucking game, of which almost half his friends, classmates, acquaintances, they were all gone, he would be remembered outside of the people who loved him.

He'd helped make something worthwhile.

A few seconds of silence after Liz disappeared. He'd thought it over.

Helpful.

Make something worthwhile.

Brendan zipped open his bag again. There lay the gun she gave him. 12 bullets for 50 bullets. Not a fair trade, but so damn worth it. He picked up the gun in his hands, and slid it in. Way too familiar.

"Okay. Tell me what I need to do."
I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
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