They say that one's worst enemy is their own self.

And Wendy is one of those people who believed it wholeheartedly, to the point it was influencing her to be self-destructive. She couldn't bring herself to blame others nor her environment when it comes to small inconveniences. Everything was her fault, it all happened because she exists.

Something horrible happened? She was there and it's probably her fault. Araceli failed the test? It was her fault because Araceli was studying her notes. Her childhood friend killed himself? She wasn't there for him and that's exactly why she thinks she caused it.

The thoughts that occupy her mind every time, especially when she tries to sleep? Her own fault, for allowing herself to live longer.

With the same mindset, she survived. But she wasn't even satisfied. She couldn't feel anything. She was no longer human; a hollow-minded robot with flesh, going through the routine she's stuck to with a plastered smile masking her chaotic truth.

She's ashamed of herself. But she wouldn't wander around that thought. She doesn't deserve any pity, even from herself.

If she had a right to choose, she would completely isolate herself. Surrounded by the things that distract her from reality; unopened books, displayed chips, her loved phone and herself. All alone. Where she can't bother anyone.

But by doing nothing is a burden to her fathers, and Wendy knows that. Who wouldn't? Her fathers are the reason why she wouldn't end herself. In the midst of a crisis, they would grab strength from her. And our dear Wendy-just like a loving daughter-helps them until they're all stable. She was their support.

But who supports those who do?

As if Wendy needed one. All she needed was a clean way to end herself. Where she can live without being a piece of emotional baggage to someone, unlike her late childhood friend.

As if things weren't hard enough, she's now being forced to change. It wasn't something very crucial to her, but to others. The pressure was too real and the day of the debut is coming really quickly. She couldn't handle it, she only needed a distraction but in the end, she got too much problem on her plate.

"Rewarded with chance to breathe... let's dance and feel our heart bea-"

Snapping back to reality with a sudden smack on a hand over her notebook, Wendy continued with her facade and hissed viciously as she used her hands as a cover.

"What's with you?" Zackary grumbled, carefully patting his reddened hand with a pout. "I'm not here to insult your new controversial song, in fact, that one is not controversial at all- hey!"

Zak fumbled around, looking for an object to protect him from the paper projectiles that the blonde created. He grabbed the clueless friend near him by the shoulders and then she stopped.

"Oh, is it about her new song?" The clueless brunet beamed upon realization. " Take a Shot is inspiring! Quite different from your 'rant' songs."

Wendy frowned. "They're not 'rant' songs, Darren. Well, whatever. Can you please throw Zak away? His face irritates me."

Zak fanned himself with his hands, wearing a hurt expression. Displeased with the childish nonsense, Darren pushed the leader away, but he came back a few minutes later, seeing Wendy blank out again.

"Is something bugging you?" he questioned, the usual concerned motherly instinct of his kicked in. "You stare at nothing.. often."

"I'm alright..?" Wendy used her 'questioning' tactic, that drove Darren into confusion with himself. "I tend to think a lot. Why did you think that I'm not alright?"

"Your smile is rare."

"I don't know what you're talking about kiddo."

"Well, if you don't want to talk about it... I understand." he reminded. "But I'm always there for you, so I don't mind if you vent out a little bit."

The conversation ended with her same smile.

They always say that. And it always ends up being useless. To Wendy, it does. She doesn't seek help during her lowest points. Because at that point, she would start thinking about how a burden she is, so why would she bother somebody?

She tried waiting for help to be the one who approaches first. She soon got tired of nothing.

Her dull bluebell eyes are locked onto the notebook with scribbled sentences in a messy handwriting. A sugarcoated pathetic excuse to persuade someone to live a little longer. It's all about not giving up despite the heavy toll of your problems, try and try again. Everything will be better.

What a lie.

A lie she always believes, even she knew the fact that it's a beautiful lie.

The day comes to an end, and she couldn't sleep. The sleep-deprived blonde took her notebook out and started writing the words that come to her mind.

take a shot
and kill the queen

take a shot and try again
or take a shot and it will be over

Wendy is too tired for this. She threw her notebook away and dragged her heavy body towards her closet. She found it hard because of the darkness, but she finally found the blade she tucked in between her clothes last night.

Take a shot, you say?

She tried again.