"You didn't drink yourself to death, right?"

I forced my eyes open, instantly feeling the uncomfortableness in my body from the way I had slept. I couldn't remember how I got here, my legs thrown over the arm of the leather couch. The upper half of my body was almost off the couch altogether, my head pointed towards the ground.

"Guess not." Austin chirped out at my movements. He was standing over me, grinning.

"What's happening?" I asked him, pulling myself back onto the couch, stretching my neck to one side in hopes to relieve the built up tension.

"What's happening?" Austin chuckled, pushing my legs so they fell off the couch, and taking the unoccupied space. "You drank enough to knock out a horse, and then passed out on my couch. I thought about waking you up and asking if you were planning on going to school, but from the looks of you, I don't think you would have made it there."

"Probably for the better." I muttered out. I should care about school. I know I should, after the way my dad just laid into me. "You have a bathroom I can use?"

Austin nodded and pointed to a door down the hallway. I groaned as my stiffened joints stretched out when I stood on my feet. Once I was safely in the bathroom, with the door closed behind me, I sat down on the toilet with my head in my hands. I felt tired. But not in my body. I felt tired in my mind. I felt tired just simply in my existence.

I stared at myself in the mirror as I stood up.

Beauty. It's all I could see. I was almost blinded by own beauty, sometimes.

One thing we all have in common. We all seek it in one way or another. Some of us seek to display it, some seek to possess it. Some want to collect it, some want to harness it. It can be the downfall of us all, or the saviour. Some take it without asking. They steal it.

Now as a teenage girl, beauty is one thing we're all desperate for. No doubt due to the nonstop propaganda shovelled to us our whole lives. Can we even go a day as a young female without something reminding us that beauty is better? They tell us that everything will be better when we're beautiful. I believed them. I believed it when they told me that beautiful people are happier. I mean, what problems could a beautiful woman truly have? They tell us that harnessing beauty will allow everything to fall at our feet. They tell us that even when we're handed shit cards, if you're a beautiful girl it doesn't matter. A man will save you, if only you bat your long eyelashes at him. He'll save you if your waist is small enough that he can grip his hands around it with ease. He'll save you if you pout your perfectly shaped lips at him.

And I mean, they might be right. It worked for me.

There's always been a boy willing to save me.

Zane tried. He tried to save me. Even Austin tried, in his own way. Carter, Cain. They tried.

The problem has always been, what happens when they're done saving you?

They forgot to tell us about that part. In the stories, and the shows, and the movies, the books... all of them are the same. The equally gorgeous boy plucks your from your silly, miserable problems simply because you're beautiful. They can't resist the way your light coloured eyes twinkle and the way your hips sway. They whisk you away into pure bliss with them, save a few speed bumps along the way. Once they have you, in the stories, why of course you have an equally charming personality that keeps them on the hook once your beauty fades to them. Once you're just you again, instead of a pair of perky tits and a sweet smile.

They start to love you, for you. Right?

That's what they told us.

You know those beautiful girls I'm talking about. I bet you can picture one in your mind right now. The girl that stands out from the crowd, always noticed. Maybe she doesn't even understand her own beauty, but I really doubt that. That's another thing they say in the books. The girl who's so beautiful, but for some reason she just doesn't know it. It's bullshit. The girls I'm talking about, they know they're beautiful. They know because they've been told, over and over, for years.

What happens when you're told you're one thing by everyone, for years and years? It becomes a personality trait. A truly beautiful girl's first personality trait will always be that she's beautiful. I'm sorry if that offends you, but it's true.

She might be funny, or a genuinely nice person with a heart of gold. She might be shy or soft spoken. She might love animals and she might have a unhealthy obsession with Harry Potter. But guess what you'll describe her as first? Beautiful. Pretty. Hot.

When people focus on one thing about you for your whole life, it's what you become. Instead of developing an actual personality, you become just a pretty girl. A beautiful face, a hot body, whatever. It's fun at first, I've never met a beautiful girl who denies it. It's fun to be always noticed, always complimented, always wanted... for a while.

Have you ever met a stand out, beautiful girl that's actually happy? Not just a pretty girl, but one of those girls that makes you turn your head just to peek another glance. Maybe you think you have, they're good at lying.

I've never met one that wasn't fucked in the head.

Myself included.

But, maybe I'm just tired of being so fucked in the head. I'm tried of being beautiful. I'm tired of people trying to save me. I'm, tired. In my soul, I'm tired.

I'm tired of the ups and downs. I'm tired of feeling normal for a day, and then reminded of my sadness the day after that. I'm tired of remembering what Jax did to me. I'm tired of remembering his fingers pulling my hair. I'm tired of remembering his hands on my body. I'm tired of remembering his threats, his promises.

I'm tired. Of life.

I opened the medicine cabinet in front of me. I knew what I was searching for. You know what I'm searching for. We all knew. There was only going to be one end to my story. You knew that, right? You had to know that.

I wish it could have been different. Oh, how I wish it could have been different. Maybe if I had found Zane earlier. Before this, before Jax. Maybe. Maybe if I had known he had seen me before, my story would have a different ending. If I saw the way he saw me.

But, I didn't. So it won't.

I cast my eyes around the various bottles. I always knew Austin would have the answer. I had always known there was a reason I met Austin that day. It was fate. A cruel, tragic, yet thoroughly planned, fate.

"You good in there?" Austin yelled through the door.

"Yeah. I'm good." I said as my hand grabbed the one I wanted. The one I needed. I tucked it in my bra, before opening the door again.

"You want a ride?" Austin asked me. He was looking into the bathroom behind me, like I had left clues behind as to what had taken me so long.

"Please." I agreed. I wanted to go home now.

I wanted to go home.

Austin was quiet as he drove me home. The way Austin usually is.

"Here you are, princess." Austin teased as he pulled into my driveway.

I looked towards him, instead of looking at my house the way I usually would. Austin wasn't dumb. He knew my behaviour was off, even more than usual. His normally mischievously twinkling eyes were duller than usual.

"You're a good guy, Austin. You know that right? I know you don't think we're friends. But we are. You're one of my only friends." I told him.

"We're friends, Seren. You're going to be okay?" He asked as I pulled the door open.

"I'm going to be okay." I believed it this time.

I walked calmly to my front door as Austin pulled away. I briefly looked at my phone, wondering why it wasn't ringing constantly in the way it had last night. It was dead. Fitting.

"Seren."

I sighed. I didn't want to hear his voice today. He shouldn't be here. He should be far away from here, from me.

"Zane." I turned around to face him. "What are you doing here?"

Zane looked taken aback at my words. I couldn't blame him. Only yesterday we had kissed. Only yesterday. Might as well have been a year ago.

Only yesterday I had felt so happy. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of bouncing in between the two extremes.

Zane looked horrible. Like he hadn't slept. His clothes were wrinkled, his eyes had bags under them. He looked like I felt.

"My grandma, turns out she was okay. They moved her out of the ICU by the time I got there. I took the first plane back. I was here last night, actually. I called your phone. Austin answered, said you were at his house."

"Yeah." I answered blanky. I heard the question in his words. I didn't answer it.

"What happened?" Zane moved closer to me, the alarm ringing out in his voice. I knew why. I knew Zane could read me. Which is why I needed him to leave.

"Nothing." I shrugged. Nothing had happened, in real life anyways. A lot had happened, in my mind.

"Seren. What's going on? Why are you acting like this?" Zane tried to grab my arm but I jerked it away from him. "Did Austin do something? Did Jax do something?"

"Nothing is wrong Zane. I just don't want you here."

Zane looked like I slapped him. "You don't want me here?" He said the words slowly, like they didn't make sense.

"No." I wish I could tell him the truth. He wouldn't understand. He would stop me. I know he would. I would listen to him. He would get through to me. I know he would. He's probably the only one who could talk me off the ledge, which is why he could never know I was standing on it. No, I wasn't just standing on it. I was preparing myself.

"Why are you pushing me away, Seren? You know that's what you're doing right? You're pushing me away and you don't have to." Zane eyes were narrowed as he looked at me.

"Sure."

"Okay. I get it. But you know it won't work right? I won't stay here if you don't want me here, but I'll still be here. I'll always be here." Zane told me as he stuck his hands in his pockets. "I was going to ask you to homecoming tonight. I already know what your answer will be, but if you change your mind, just let me know."

"Goodbye, Zane." I opened my door, stepping into the house and quickly shutting it behind me.

I almost felt guilty, about what I was about to do to him. It would hurt him. I knew it would. But he would get over it. He would be okay. He wouldn't be okay, if I kept dragging him down with me. He would end up drowning too.

But I couldn't allow myself to dwell on it, because the ocean wave that has been my life had finally succeeded in crashing over me, pulling me down in the depths. The current was too strong. I wasn't coming back up for air this time.