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[color=CB0F24][sub][i]Party girls don't get hurt
Can't feel anything, when will I learn?
I push it down, push it down
I'm the one "for a good time call"
Phone's blowin' up, ringin' my doorbell
I feel the love, feel the love

I'm gonna fly like a bird through the night
Feel my tears as they dry[/i][/sub][/color]
[img]http://i.imgur.com/qh0vYoh.png[/img][/center]
[color=darkgray][indent][indent]In the early hours of the morning, Aleyda Westwood quietly sat in the landing of the stairs that led to the school’s rooftop, unable to stop wondering when exactly things in her life had started to go to shit.

For the last two and a half years, there had been no shortage of men to occupy her time with. It had all started with Damian O’Connor back in freshman year, when they made a promise to always be each other’s back-ups when things went south with whoever they were trying to get with. Then it had been Lucky Cross, with a chance encounter at the Combat Club that had led into a successful friends with benefits arrangement. Her occasional fondness for molly had led her to Hyde, who did with her body as he pleased whenever she was unable to come up with the right kind of payment to cover the cost of her expenses. This form of payment was also accepted by Mitch-- a begrudging but necessary sacrifice done for the sake of her GPA. And of course, there had been the occasional one night stands: Nero Frost and Shawna Flynn among those privileged enough to roll between the sheets with her.

What did most of these individuals have in common, you might ask? They were in relationships or in flirtationships… Just not with her.

To her horror and dismay, Damien and Lucky had become taken men at the beginning of the year, and had consequently ended their respective liaisons with Aleyda. The dreams of retaliation were always present in the back of Ley’s head. They ate at the Latina whenever she saw Joy Darling, Fawn Woods, or even Jasmine Fulton (the girl Ley suspected was behind Hyde’s recent mood improvement lately) strutting around the school with the rosy cheeks and telling smiles of blooming romances. But what would be the point of that? What would it prove, exactly? It’s not like Ley was in love with any of the boys she’d slept with-- God forbid she ever did, for that matter. They’d certainly been [i]fulfilling[/i] distractions and fun to be around in her times of need, but that was it.

The stab at her ego, however, was immeasurable.

What did any of those girls had that Aleyda didn’t? It couldn’t be money, because the Westwoods weren’t short on wealth. It wasn’t looks, because she sure as hell had that in the bag. Brains, maybe? She wasn’t a genius by any means, but she definitely was above average in the subjects that mattered. Was she just too bold, too loud, too outspoken? Too ambitious, too confrontational, too arrogant? Or maybe she wasn’t soft enough, sweet enough, complacent enough? Whatever she was or wasn’t had been the only though swirling in her mind for the better part of the last few weeks.

[color=CB0F24]“Fuck this shit!”[/color] Ley cursed under her breath, throwing a pebble that she'd grabbed from nearby in frustration and watching it bounce off the wall in front of her. She was tired of overthinking; tired of feeling like she wasn’t enough or worthy of romantic attention. Before she realized it, tears pooled in her brown eyes and ran down her cheeks, which she hurriedly wiped away. She’d be damned before she let any of these people see her cry. [/indent][/indent][/color]