Prologue

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A/N - 40k reads? Get the fuck out. I'm overwhelmed with the support I receive from every single one of you, you're all so amazing.

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I am a British writer, so spellings and terms regard as such.

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By definition, an enemy is a person who is actively opposed or hostile towards someone or something. A nemesis is the promotion you never really realised you needed until it comes. An arch-enemy as it is so described. I'm not sure there is a term coined for the step up from that, but if there were, it still wouldn't be enough to describe the relationship between Elijah Hendrix and me.

We've certainly never been friends, Hendrix and I. Frankly, I don't think that it was ever an option. He's a Sagittarius, I'm a Pisces – it's written amongst the stars, amicability was just never a path we were supposed to embark upon.

As enemies, it's our sole duty to completely detest everything that the other does, says, or even thinks. That all started back in our diaper days. Elijah insists I was the one that initiated this longstanding hate-ship, but I maintain, had he not been pulling on my pigtails, there would've been no need to put a worm into his lunchtime sandwich, would there?

It's become a lifestyle. There is no mediocre play, no half-arsing, and certainly no days off. We've accepted the terms and conditions of this hate-ship and they are not up for deliberation. Not even when our overlapping friendship circles complain. Not even when our teachers and principle decide that it's become annoyingly tedious. Hendrix and I will never get along. We will never tolerate one another or see eye to eye. In fact, the only way I could be remotely happy with his existence is if he were 195 million kilometres away, living a miserable life on Mars. We really hate each other that much, I think even he would prefer that.

We've certainly grown up, matured even. Or at least, in my opinion we have. Very rarely now do we engage in grapples in the cafeteria or bounce rubbers off of one another's heads in class or punch the other so hard in the face he has to visit the hospital for four stitches in his right eyebrow (I'm still quite proud of that one). No, we've settled on verbal insults, mockery and rather colourful, graphic depictions on how much we hate one another. Occasionally, we do still lose our tempers though. That's only to be expected.

We're the epitome of entertainment in St Bardo's and what can I say, he deserves everything he gets.

I don't call him my nemesis for nothing.

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