My brain screamed at me to move, not gawk like an idiot. Clenched muscles ignored neuron signals. Rebellious, they rooted me. The greatest Villains formed within those walls. It was my time to enter the hallowed halls to prove I measured up. Could I? An imposter with the weight of the world strapped to her back. The air crisp as I inhaled in the scent of newly cut grass. Maybe if I held my breath, held in the unspoiled essence of nature, I could force reality to erase the blemish before me. Why couldn't my ability have worked like that? I let the air out slowly. My shoulders slumped as my lungs deflated.

I glared at the colossal ordinariness of the brick and mortar building. The crimson stone walls were nothing like the basalt I'd imagined. Gargoyles didn't guard the nondescript doors. Dragons and demons weren't circling in the blue sky. Snakes and spiders didn't cover the ground or crowd the beautiful lush trees dotting the campus. The freshly mowed lawn confirmed that this wasn't a place of neglect or ruin. Acid heat chewed disappointment into bitter bile that coated my tongue and the back of my throat. Fear clawed into my stomach to leave it a tattered mess. Razor Stone Academy for Villains would prove to be the death of me.

For me to stand in front of the prestigious school as the 14-year-old daughter of mediocre parents in a mediocre family with a mediocre legacy, had to top the list of the most pathetic performances in the history of mediocrity. I knew I shouldn't think that way, how wrong I should feel for believing it. A person like me who knew the truth, even if I had to discover it for myself. A person like me born to nobodies and worse, according to this society. A person like me who would amount to nothing. A person like me should be grateful for the opportunity to attend a high caliber school like Razor Stone. How pitiful was my family to think I should be there? Still, how I felt or what I believed didn't matter. If passing the entry exam made my parents happy, I'd do it a hundred times over. Even if it killed me. At least then, I could stop pretending.

My stomach grumbled at the thought of the responsibility ahead of me. So much rode on what happened today. The chance I could die if I failed nestled like a void in the dark corner of my consciousness, sucking hope away from me in small measures. I fisted my shaking hands, nails digging into my palms, willing them to still. No fear, Sydney. Those were my mom's last words before she and my dad made me walk the last mile to the Academy alone.

Dad pulled our beat up Volvo to the curb and looked at me. His brown eyes, the color of my own. His Asian complexion a contrast to my mocha skin. I took after my mom in that regard, along with her Afro hair. I kept my hair short to manage the curls because I didn't like the 70s big Afro look. I tried it for a little while, but I looked stupid. Not as beautiful as my mom.

His lips set in a thin line as he addressed me. "You will do well, Syd," he said.

I opened my mouth to protest my confusion, breath coming in quick gasps, but he looked ahead and I knew he'd dismissed me. No matter what I said, our conversation was over.

Mom got out and opened my door. Her afro perfect and puffy, hair pick sticking out of the back. I hated when she did that, especially when we went out. She still looked stunning. Her short sleeve white blouse accented the chocolate skin on her arms that looked smooth like supple leather. I wanted them around me more than anything at that moment. That wouldn't happen.

"Out, runt." She gestured to me. Her platform heels rendered her gigantic beyond her usual 5' 9".

I did as told. Eyes pleaded for comfort. "Why do I have to walk? Can't you come with me?"

I cringed at the childish question. Had it been dad standing there, I'd have gotten a solid slap. The villain Facade isn't weak, he'd tell me. Facade doesn't need mommy or daddy to hold her hand. A good slap might have been helpful. Maybe I'd have found courage or confidence. Mom's methods for motivating me were subtly direct.

She put her finger under my chin to turn my downcast eyes up to her. "No fear, Sydney." That was all.

They pulled away and disappeared into traffic. I honestly thought they'd take me to the school. There was no reason not to. That naïve idea left me exposed, gutted in disappointment. Nothing for me to do but follow their instructions. It took a moment to swallow the lump in my throat, squeeze my eyes to halt the tears from falling. Failure was never an option. Crying and berating my stupidity strengthened my weakness. It wasn't about me, I reminded myself. I shook my head against the unproductive feelings. Despite the constant training, the sleepless hours, the family burden placed on my shoulders; I kept my complaints to myself. It was worth it to see my parents smile when I mastered a skill, their praise a coveted prize. They'd be proud when I got in to the Academy. I'd show them I was capable, even if I didn't feel it.

The fear gnawing at my gut became acute, as if to remind me I wasn't capable. Pathetic. I closed my eyes before I inhaled slowly through my nose and exhaled out of my mouth. One foot in front of the other. That's all I had to do. If I could take that first step, I would make it through the day.

My foot moved. My body slammed into a solid mass. I stared at the girl I smacked into. Her face looked smashed in. No, not her entire face. Her nose mostly. The scrunched, angry expression aimed at me enhanced the look.

"Are you kidding me?" Flat Nose said as she bent to pick up her bag. "What's wrong with you?"

"I-I'm sorry." I reached out to help her. She slapped my hand.

"Don't touch me." Her eyes scanned down my frame, which might have excited me any other time.

"Sorry."

She clicked her tongue. "You're new."

How two words could make me feel small and dirty, I wouldn't know. Even as I dropped my shoulders to mirror the size I felt, fate continued to be a cruel bitch. I didn't shrink. I couldn't disappear, though I wanted to.

"Kinda," I replied in the smallest voice to ever came out of my mouth, ever. Pathetic.

Flat Nose snorted laughter. "Don't you know?"

I searched for an escape. Flat Nose wasn't about to call it a day. Desperation trembled my body as shrill laughter buzzed around me. The last time I felt trapped like that was at my Uncle's funeral. Who puts a kid in charge of greeting mourners? I didn't know what to say or how to act. The most I could muster was an occasional "Thank you." They made me stand at the door of my Aunt's house for two hours. For a shy kid who barely speaks when spoken to, it was death. I couldn't slip away then, and it looked less likely to happen now. If I thought it couldn't get worse, I was very wrong. I watched an older teen boy stroll our way. His eyes zeroed in on me. A shudder shot down my spine at the look in his brown eyes. It passed quickly, leaving me to wonder if I'd seen it at all.

"S'up, Nik? Who's this?" Brown Eyes asked as he sidled up to us. His tone held a calculated mirth.

Flat Nose's expression darkened at the sound of his voice. That I didn't imagine.

"Some new girl," she squeaked. Her chin was up so she could look down her flat nose at me, but she shifted from one foot then the other and back.

Embarrassment turned to panic. They outnumbered me. Heat flushed my body. Before I stopped to think, I stepped back. This wasn't how I planned today to go. As deft as a cat, Brown Eyes slung his arm around my narrow shoulders to keep me in place. I froze. I froze, but my heart banged like a beat out of a My Chemical Romance song.

His touch felt like scolding flames through my jacket and shirt. Not that he was warm, he was the opposite in fact. His skin cold, colder than the fall weather we stood in. No, my skin flared hot at his violation of my space, my privacy. Repulsion struck my stomach seconds later. I turned away from him, leaning to escape.

"Leaving before I get your name?"

I shuddered.

"Look, Stab, I don't think she likes you," Flat Nose said. She covered her mouth in simulated shock.

Menace replaced his once lively tone. "Do I bother you, New Girl?"

His foul breath tickled my ear. Even with my head turned away, the smell of eggs filled my nose. Nausea returned as sweat stood out on my skin. Alarmed, I pushed at him. His fingers dug into my arm, keeping me in place. The tightness in my chest became a pinpoint of pain as my breathes came in quick gasps.

My ability engaged. Attention averted from the rising panic, I watched my hand turn the color of my jacket. Whatever happened, I had to contain it. I promised not to show my ability until the exams. Closing my eyes, I struggled to shut out every other thought to focus on controlling my ability. I imagined the skin of my hand, the color of it, the texture. I pictured the painted nails, short and black, the way I liked them. I saw the scar at the base of my thumb where I'd missed catching a knife I'd been throwing in the air when I was seven. After several agonizing seconds, my hand looked as it should.

He chuckled, a terrifying sound. "Like a scared rabbit." The words whispered for my ears only.

The solid tightness in my gut opened the door for the tears that I so carefully kept locked away. I couldn't—I wouldn't—let them see me cry.

Flat Nose, "Nik," broke the moment. "What are you wearing? That's classic hero gear."

"You're right. Look at this." Stab lifted my black jacket like a cape. Gone was the threatening behavior. His laugh grew louder when I pulled myself free.

I looked at my clothes as apprehension gave way to a burst of anger. I'd been so careful about every detail of my clothes. I didn't see what was hero about them. Black jeans, a black mid-rift shirt, and my favorite black jacket that stopped above my hips with a bird and skull on the back. The black boots I bought at Villainous Footwear. How is that hero?

"You're in the wrong place if you want to be a hero, New Girl," Nik said. She looped her arm around Stab's pulling him toward the door.

"Sydney Blaze," I said. Shoulders straight.

They turned.

"Excuse me?" She shot me an uninterested look when she so clearly was.

I wasn't me anymore. I was Facade. "You heard me."

"Shit, she's got fire in her after all!" Stab said, producing a ball of flame in his palm.

"Like I care. Come on."

I watched them follow the other Academy hopefuls toward the front door. As my anger faded, so did Facade and my knees went weak. My old pal nausea tumbled around in my stomach. Home at last. I heard Facade's voice tell me to walk into the building ahead before it went silent. Unfortunately, my panic brain was loud and demanding. It took control of my body. Turning around to run and cry like the pitiful idiot I was, I ran into another person.

Small yet strong hands held my shoulders to stop me from falling. I looked up at the angelic face of my neighbor, Yasuko Noguchi. Just my luck to collide with my crush. I imagined our meeting at school hundreds of ways. That wasn't one of them.

"You should be more careful when turning around." Yasuko's melodic voice reached my ears.

Too stunned to breathe, I stared. Maybe my mouth hung open, too. I honestly couldn't say for sure how long that went on without either of us speaking. All I remember in that moment was the warmth from her hands seeping into my arms. You know how an electric blanket feels? Well, I don't, but I imagine it felt like Yasuko's hands.

"You okay?"

Like the rest of my body, panic brain controlled my voice. I said, "Yasuko."

"Yes, I'm Yasuko. And you're Sydney, right?"

Her face brightened into a smile so delicate, so sweet, I'm surprised sunbeams didn't shoot out of her eyes. That smile, those hazel blue orbs, locked onto to me. That was my definition of heaven.

"Right—yes, I'm you—Yasuko—no, wait—," I stammered like the useless moron I am. As I made a fool of myself, the most wonderful and equally horrible event happened.

Yasuko laughed.

That was my cue to die inside from humiliation.

I hung my head partially out of embarrassment, and partially because I realized her warm hands still held me. All said, Embarrassed Face didn't look good on me. Looking down and as close as we were, not only could I smell a fruity, light scent floating off of her, but her boobs were close enough to rest my head on. The latter realization made me reel backwards.

Yasuko tightened her grip to keep me from falling on my ass.

"Are you here for RS's entrance exam too?"

I nodded before I said in a wavering voice, "Yeah, I'm here for the exam."

"Yippie!" She let me go and clapped. "When I saw it was you, I hoped that's why you were here."

Was she serious? The thought of Yasuko happy to see me took time to sink in.

Her eyes narrowed and her volume lowered as she looked passed me. "Don't let Nikita and Stab get to you. They talk a big game, but in truth, they have little dick energy."

I smiled at that, unable to stop myself.

"I'll see you in there. Good luck." She touched two delicate fingers to her forehead to salute me before she sauntered away.

I tracked her, mesmerized by the sway of her hips under the billowing maroon slacks. The high-heeled shoes stressed her erect stature, while her black and white patterned blazer hugged her curves in all the right places. My favorite of her features had always been her long hair. Usually black, she dyed it light violet almost a year ago. Today she had it in a ponytail. It bobbed and swayed counter to her hips.

Yasuko stopped at the door where Nikita put her hand up for a high five. The pair disappeared inside. I didn't see Stab.

An ache settled in my chest at the thought of Yasuko playing me as a mean joke. Even as I tried to process what I'd seen, my heart rejected the idea. My Yasuko would never be so cruel. I wouldn't believe it.

Still, had my heart stopped at the moment I willed it to, I could have died in the arms of the girl I loved. It would have been a good death, would have been simple and perfect. It would have solved all my problems.

Fuck you, life!

(Word Count: 2625)