The Heartthrob Won't Leave

Prologue (New Chapters)

Niche. A human concept, but something that existed long before man understood what it meant. The definition of a niche is a cog in the system, it's where you find your place, your purpose in life, that place is your niche. It's what you live by, and helps keep the machine of life running as it should, or at least how one thinks it should.

As a child, Blake was often told that good things come to people who wait. But, Blake was never a very patient person. There was this stage in between that came with waiting that she hated. It was a sort of insufferable limbo that no matter how hard and long you ran, you could never escape. So, you could dream all you want, you could fill your mind with possibility after possability and believe they could come true, but there comes a time when you awaken from this state of waiting, when one realises that what you were waiting for would never come. She remembered her young self, so full of fantasies of escape, of happiness, of shiny skies and endless flower fields with an accompanied sun. She dreamed of a person, one that would never leave her, never damage her or make her cry. They would polish her, make her beautiful and new, and life would be perfect, the past left behind and eyes forward to the sky.

She inwardly huffed at the thought, letting her eyes close softly and taking in a soft breathe, one she knew Stella wouldn't hear, whether her lack of hearing it was due to the volume or Stella's lack of attention wasn't clear to her, but it still relieved her. Because sighing of despair wasn't part of her niche, her position in life wouldn't allow such a betrayal of the system in place. Her mask would never slip, never reveal her true thoughts, very few mess ups happen to those with years of practice avoiding them.

And, she couldn't show her fear, especially of that moment, walking down the suburban street, her backpack across her back, staring at her stepping feet across the concrete as she walked, pushing her glasses up her nose from where they were slipping. A new school, the exact same Blake.

"Would you stop freaking out?! You should be happy!-" she glanced at Stella walking beside her, smiling happily, rubbing her hands together with a smirk of mischief, no doubt for her plans to cause havoc in this new place, as she had caused it in all the other ones. "Were finally away from those annoying pricks we've been stuck with since the sixth grade!" Blake sighed, knowing she was referring to the people they used to go to class with in the years previous, many of which weren't very fond of either of them, but for very much different reasons.

"I'm not freaking out-" she defended weakly "I'm just....not that good with change" she responded, her hold tightening on her backpack straps. Blake wished she had her time to prepare for this change, but it had happened so quickly, when over the summer, her school had decided to close its doors, having their students flocking to other institutions across the city, which had Blake in her current state of panic, an anxiety so intense her forehead was in a sweat, her hands slightly shook and her heart pounded against her ribcage.

"Just get over yourself! You can be so dramatic sometimes" Blake watched as Stella rolled her eyes, typing across the small device between her fingers and picking up step. Blake running her hand through her wavy dark hair, feeling like she wanted to pull the strands from her skull in mixed emotion. She knew that despite knowing Stella for so long, she would never understand how Blake felt. It wasn't as if Blake wanted to feel this torturous mess boiling across her mind, she was being forced to, her mind gave her no free will in the matter. Stella fell from her sight, leaving Blake a few feet behind to step on her own. Blake felt horrible, knowing Stella had become fed up with her, and it wouldn't be long before her friend realised there was nothing to gain from her presence. She knew that one day, Stella would snap, leaving her in the dust without a second thought as so many people do to everyone else, there was nothing Blake could do but just accept the dim reality of life. That sometimes, people ran from your life just as fast as they walked in. Instead of feet, Stella would be miles, lifetimes away, and there was nothing Blake could do but believe that it happened for some reason, even if she would never find out what it was.

Stella wasn't anything like Blake, she was loud, a beauty that turned heads with tanned golden skin, a socially acceptable face and a body that other women would die for, soft light brown hair that shimmered gold in the sunlight, dark eyes of intrigue that drew in everyone she knew. Blake was the girl that stood by and watched as these men she attracted buzzed around her like pesky flies, teasing them with the possibility, only for her to crush them in her hands and leave them to die. Sometimes Blake wanted nothing more in the world than to be like Stella, to live like she did, but there were other moments when she knew in her heart that she would be better off being literally anyone else. And so, like every therapist had ever expressed to her in the past, Blake tried to focus on what she did have, the possibilities that were in her possible sight, despite how few they may have been in number, that they should still count for something. The thought frustrated her, but to appease them she continued to try, but always found herself hitting a wall of her own doubt.

Maybe focus on her poetry, But, I'm not very good at it.

Focus on her schooling, who in their right mind would do that?!

Maybe focus on the people she did have? No need, the relationships will die out soon enough anyways.

So, I'm basically plagued with the fact that I have nothing going for me. Well, that's just swell.

She pushed her thick glasses up, shaking out her hair, slipping her headphones in her ears, playing melody for some sort of tension release, but it didn't seem to help. She wondered if perhaps she should focus on nothing at all, leave her mind blank to everything that plagued her. But, her mind itself would never allow such an easy fix to the stress she was feeling, that would be too easy. That was the moment she hit an obstacle in front of her, so emulsed in her mind she hadn't noticed the blockage that she thought had been opened. She stumbled back, rubbing her head, looking up at the sight of the heavy set of front doors to her new school building. She inwardly cursed, glancing around the grass of the courtyard, noticing a few stray students looking at her with a blend of curiosity and hilarity. She rubbed her forehead, letting out a sigh, knowing her forehead would be red for the rest of the morning, contrasting the natural pale shade of her skin. Just another way to embarrass herself in front of strangers.

Then, she realised it was Stella, Stella had moved into the building, letting the doors fall shut with the opportunity for her to run right into it. She couldn't help but feel the slightest sense of anger at seemingly how little Stella really cared. But, Blake had to remind herself that somewhere, deep down she must care about her, somehow? Stella wouldn't have been her friend if that was the case, right?