(lilac)

MAREENA WAS FOURTEEN WHEN LIVIA'S CHILDHOOD ENDED.

She still remembered them shaking in a dark corner, whispering, "Who would save us now?". Pamela cried. Livia clung to Mareena for hope. Mareena was utterly alone. Somedays, she's impressed. Her fourteen-year-old sister took care of both of them for days, shielding them from their kidnapper's taunts and somehow assuring both of them everything will be alright.

They had been abducted the day before. They were playing in the streets after school. The next moment, they were stuffed into a car, blindfolded and gagged. Pamela's face was red hot with tears. Mareena had somehow remained calm.

All that went through Livia's mind was, "oh my god, I'm going to die."

She didn't. Mareena did.

Their kidnappers demanded a ransom. They knew who the three were. How her family was rich. The government wouldn't help them. The British government doesn't pay ransom money. Their option was a raid. But it wasn't just one person at stake. It was all three of their daughters.

Their parents paid the ransom.

The kidnappers demanded more.

The police finally jumped in after collecting enough evidence to point to the kidnappers' location. They came at night. Livia still remembered the sounds of bullet ricocheting off the molecules in the air, flying through the air like death personified, Pamela shaking in her arms and Mareena whispering to both of them that it would all be okay. And then, the kidnappers in the room guarding them left. Mareena's eyes twinkled.

"Go," she whispered. The kidnappers were sloppy and inexperienced. None of the three girls had been tied up. They had been locked in a room with no windows and only one locked door. But the kidnappers were wary. They knew that if the police came in, they'd have to grab the three and run. The door took precious minutes to open, so they had left it unlocked, though the door was closed.

Mareena yanked the door open and ran out.

Now that she thought about it, they probably would have been safer staying put. But considering the kidnappers did realise they had escaped, it probably wasn't either. Livia and Pamela followed.

The gunfire was louder now. Shots traded, screams and yells.

And then, "the hostages escaped!"

Livia saw Mareena froze. Her sister must have wanted them to leave unnoticed. Mareena had gulped, her eyes darting to a window. They were on the second floor. Mareena looked out of the window. "There."

There was a bush directly below. Mareena must have thought it might soften the fall.

"Go!" Mareena barked. Livia grabbed Pamela and assisted her sister in escaping. Mareena pushed Livia out. Livia reached out, waiting for Mareena to jump down too.

Footsteps. Mareena's face was chalky white, but she turned back to Livia, a reassuring smile on her face. "I'll be fine!"

Livia watched, shielding Pamela's eyes, frozen in fear, as her oldest sister was shot right in front of her. Mareena was still smiling as she fell.

Livia had finally recovered her wits then, grabbing Pamela by the hand and fleeing into the distance. The kidnappers didn't dare jump out after them, and by the time they ran downstairs to fetch them, they were long gone. The two sisters reemerged hours later at a police station. They told their story. The police told them and their parents that Mareena had been killed in the crossfire.

Livia doesn't remember much. After all, she had been young, and she hadn't wanted to remember it. She just wanted to forget. She missed her sister dearly, but she didn't want to mourn her for an eternity.

(She sounds like a hypocrite now, doesn't she?)

But it hurts anyways. Watching someone important to you be taken away from you. You gulp, trying to swallow the pain, and you might succeed for a tiny bit. Then, you see something that was theirs, that reminded you of them: their old comb, the door to their old room, a book they gifted you on your seventh birthday, and suddenly you break down once again.

As the years went by, Livia had more or less placed Mareena into the place of an afterthought. It made her head hurt whenever she thought about that. When someone reminded her of it she just wanted to scream and pull out her hair.

But first, school.

After weeks of icy exterior and frosty words, Lila Anderson approached Livia first. Brie was nowhere to be seen. Unsurprising.

"Hey."

Livia gave Lila a small grin. "Hello, Anderson, what's up?"

"I wanted to apologise for my... bitchiness and... distance-ness in the past while. It's... it's been a tough time. I know it's not an excuse, but like, sorry," Lila said sheepishly. "I'm really bad at apologies."

"It's fine," Livia replied. "If you don't mind me asking, what's going on?"

Oh, Livia knows. She's seen the gossip sites. TheTalko. The latest 'tea' about Lila's mother. How Helena Portman got engaged again. Like the sixth time in six years. But Livia had never wondered how Lila was affected until now.

"The engagement."

"You don't want your mother to get engaged?" The tone wasn't accusatory or harsh, but Lila flinched nonetheless.

"No, no, it's not like that. I want my mom to settle down too, but I'm not sure he's the right guy."

"Ry-Ry," Livia mused. "Pretty famous rapper. Doesn't have the best track record."

"He gives me bad vibes," Lila confessed. "And my mom has an even worse track record regarding boyfriends and fiances. Don't get me wrong, I want her to settle down and find a husband, become an actual mom, but I want her to do it with someone who's... more appropriate."

No kidding. She's pretty sure the rapper is infamous for feuding with almost everyone out there. He had a few physical fights, too, and is most known for his idiotic, daily tweets. Technically speaking, Helena Portman has had her fair amount of beef with other celebrities, and is constantly under fire, but Livia can understand why Lila is concerned.

"Have you talked to your mother about it?"

"She hasn't been home yet. She's filming that new movie. I haven't called her in... weeks," Lila said grimly.

"Oh."

Another child who self-raised. Briarville seemed to be full of them, but if you think about it, it's not that special. Some of the parents here leave their children to the care of maids, babysitters and helpers, barely batting an eye at them. The children grew up bitter. Why did everyone else get showered with love by their parents, but not them? What was so different about them that their parents ignored them all the time?

Livia is one of the lucky ones. Her mother chose to stay at home to take care of them. She didn't necessarily give up on her work, her mother liked to use the term "semi-retired" to describe her state.

Some of the parents didn't want to leave their kids behind, but they had no choice. They were much too busy to be able to take care of their children. People like James and Jack. Victoire. The luckier ones had an older sibling taking care of them. The others had no one.

Briarville is nowhere the perfect place it may seem to be. Lonely children, miserable stars who realised the pain of fame a bit too late, businessmen who saw everything as a transaction.

"How have you been coping?"

"I've been crying," Lila admitted. "Locking myself in my room and just sobbing. Very helpful in expressing rage."

"You could try taking up something like boxing. Worked for me."

"I'm not the type of person who's really keen on picking that up," Lila offered an apologetic smile. "Crying while punching my pillow works for me."

Another angry crier. Livia returned the smile with a ferocity she didn't know what to make of.

"I didn't tell anyone because I know there's people out there who are having it way worse than me, y'know? People who are losing people close to them. People who don't have food or every day supplies. It makes me feel like a brat whenever I rant about my issues."

To the rest of the world, people like her and Lila are all brats. People with everything who don't treasure it.

Somedays, Livia just wants to yell at people to realise that their lives were anything but perfect. Neglectful parents, decapitating grief, alone in this wide world who hurts people like them. They're human too. They feel hurt. Pain. What's so hard to understand about that? Just the fact that these people are screaming at her shows that she doesn't have it all.

As Regina George sings, "feel my heart beating? I'm just like her or you. People forget I'm human too, yes, they do that."

People were always misunderstood. When someone doesn't fit in, people antagonise them. It hurts, but after a while, the pain gets numb. Because you're not alone. There's always someone out there who's feeling the exact same thing as you are. And somehow, that makes her feel a tiny bit better.

"You should always be allowed to talk about your problems," Livia said pointedly and bluntly. "No one should be forced to hide their problems because it's apparently inferior to others. Have you read Dream of the Red Chamber? Look at what happened to Lin Daiyu."

"I know," Lila responded. "Okay, I technically haven't read it yet and don't plan on doing so, but I know what happens to her."

"Good. I didn't feel like taking half an hour to explain the entire plot to you."

The two walked to the classrooms in silence after that. They had used up their words.

"Nice chat," Livia had said as she walked into the classroom. She didn't share this class with Lila. "Have a good lesson."

She didn't bother asking if Lila would join them for lunch. There was some sort of unspoken agreement between the two girls now. Livia supposed that in a way, the two girls had more in common than she thought. Livia wondered what the two looked like from a distance. Lila was decked in pink and white, Livia red and black. They must look rather strange. The two girls shared another smile.

"Same to you," Lila replied, though her voice had once again dropped to the quiet, sad tone she had adopted in the past few days. So their talk didn't help Lila much. Livia didn't know why she felt so disappointed. She shouldn't. It's not her job to change others. It's their own. No one else can change you except yourself.

How she reacted to Melody's death was all on her. And she chose to react negatively. That choice is what made her what she is now.

How Lila chooses to deal with her mother's engagement will shape her, too, but Livia's not going to be the person leading her through and telling her what to choose. If Lila can't make up her mind, she can find someone else. Livia has her own shackles and nightmares to deal with. Adding another pile of shit onto her list is not something on her priority list.

Besides, she'll be out of this town by the end of the year. There are no good colleges in Briarville. She'll have to head out to attend one.

She'll know whether any of the universities she applied to would accept her in a month or two.

In a few months, she'll say bye-bye to all of this. No more constant nightmares and chains keeping her from flying, no more bad reminders of bad memories. Just... her. Just Livia Wong, in a new city, a new school, starting from scratch.

She can't wait. She can't wait to leave this world behind. She can't wait to meet new friends (and hopefully keep them around), to get her own apartment, then find a normal job until she gets enough experience to start working for her father and uncle.

Her life is going to be perfect.

She just has to get out of here first.

But her life was perfect before, wasn't it?

Was perfection really what she's striving for now?