I've known Farren for almost four years, this year will be making it the fourth one. The first day she walked through the doors of Haven High, I really thought she was just another Jackson woman who didn't have anything to do with her life and decided to torture teenagers as a way to fill in a void.

I instantly hated her, I refused to even acknowledge that she was new to the town. But imagine my shock when the second week came rolling and she was smiling at everyone, she was teaching History like it was her passion, and she was nice to all of us. At some point, I started to believe that being a teacher to a bunch of horny, confused demons was her dream job.

It remained like that and I found myself wanting to go to school every day just to be motivated by her work and attitude. Peter had ended our friendship then and the Madison thing was just beginning, and she made me feel less troubled. She made it more bearable, even though she didn't really know I breathed.

The first time we talked-- I wish it was on better circumstances where the great Mason did not ball his eyes out-- she showed me so much generosity I didn't know I had been missing.  That day, Farren found me in the boy's toilet floor sobbing about something I'm grateful for forgetting, she spoke to me as if I was her child and even went as far as to pat my messy hair down.

I've never seen a stranger so worried about another stranger. So fucking surreal in this part of the world. After that faithful, equally embarrassing day Farren and I have been inseparable.

So it is understandable when I say that I knew her address and drove all the way from school just to see what was her reason for being absent at school today. Today of all days.

Knocking on the door I sway from side to side and observe their house. A two-story house with a  white fence, the typical family house with the nice front yard and spacious backyard. A home built for a family. But Farren didn't want kids, ironic considering how she treats everyone.

As for George, a thirty-something aged man who owned the best furnishing company I've seen even with its small size, he was nice enough to me and handsome too.

The door opens to reveal the said man and he looks at me from head to toe, "She is expecting you." He never did like me, did he? Following him into the house I noticed that nothing has changed from the last time I was here (New Year's eve). Still plain and spacious.

"Mason!" The excited yelling of my name guides me to their living room to see Farren covered with a blanket and laying on the couch, she's pale. "I knew you would come, George owes me twenty bucks."

I look behind me and frown at him, "You put a bet on me? I'm insulted, Georgie, you were supposed to be the mature one." He clicks his tongue at me and mutters something about fetching biscuits for Farren. I chuckle under my breath.

"So, what's wrong with you? Should we be worried?" I joke before shifting her legs so I can sit down, she replaces them on my lap. I could sit somewhere else but after today I think I can sit wherever the fuck I want.

"What is this? Should I be worried?" She crooks her head at me.

"What?"

"Mason Longwood comes into my house with a smile and eyes a lighter colour than usual. Are you finally dying?" I don't understand what she is rambling about until I notice my lips are twitching. "Or dare I say, is Mason "bad boy" Longwood, happy?" She smiles at me suspiciously and I recoil away from her close face.

"That's madness! I was just thinking about, uhm, I was remembering something. " I look away from her.

"Something...like?" Now she is just teasing me.

"Something is something." She opens her mouth to speak but I yell,  "Why are you trying to change the topic? This is about you."

She leans back until her head is on the pillow,  "I haven't been feeling well for a while now, and Mister Worry McWorry in the kitchen made me stay at home."

"You do look pale... What's wrong with you?"

"I don't know, " she pouts.

Farren hates being forced to stay at one place, she loves her job and always wants to go to school-- Lord knows why-- so staying at home is probably worse than a death sentence for her. Even if she doesn't come to teach she still wants to be kept busy and moving.

She gets really whiny when she sits for more than an hour-- I regretted going to the movies with her that day.

I frown at her, "You are thirty-year-old woman, stop pouting." I use her fingers to pull her lips upwards.

"I'm twenty-seven, stupid."

"Huh? No, you not, you were twenty-seven three years ago." She looks at me as if I grew two extra heads and smacks my hands that were holding her fingers to her lips.

"Who told you that?"

"You did."

"No, I didn't. Oh. Oh. No man," she slaps my arm, "I was joking that time. My real age is twenty-seven."

I stare at her. "Why are you so stupid?"

"What?! Look at this brat," she holds me in a headlock and I whine, "can't respect your elders! I'll teach you a lesson."

"As if it's my fault you bad at jokes," I choke out and she tightens her grip. "You going to kill me, woman, let go!

George's voice booms from the kitchen, "Don't make me come in there you two or else--"

"Or else what?!" Farren yells aggressively, that's the first time I've heard her speak to him like that. The silence grows between both of them and I finally sense the tension in the air. "I thought so." She whispers, her grip loosens and I escape.

I haven't heard her yell like that ever, even if she did scream she wouldn't have sounded so aggressive. I'm bewildered at the fact that it was directed at her soulmate, she rarely talks shit about him but now she shouts at him as if he insulted her mother ( I did once and got the smack of my life).

"What was that about?" She looks away, "no-no," tilting her chin towards me I smile, "talk to me. You'd never yell at someone like that." A tear slips down her cheek and my hands itch to grab the gun from my bag.

"He did the one thing I told him not to. I'm not ready, Mason. I'm so scared." She sobs and I raise my eyebrows for her to continue. Instead, she takes my hand and gently places it on her tummy.

I laugh a little, "what is this supposed to explain?" She gives me a look and makes my hands circle around her tummy. This is some weird shit I'm experiencing right now, what is she trying to--

"Oh. Oh shit. Oh, my fucking life. Bitch, are you pregnant?!"

She nods with a small smile. Fuck.

"You couldn't come to school because of the morning sickness?" She nods again, "are you keeping it?"

She sighs and closes her eyes. "I don't know..."

"How did this happen?"

"You know, he puts his penis into my-" I place my hand over her mouth with a glare. She licks my hand and laughs. "I don't even know, I'm on birth control. Birth fucking control, Mango!"

I'll let that one slide, only Mickey is allowed to call me that. She is obviously in an emotional state and not in the right mind to throw that name at me.

"I'm so pissed at him."

"Why?"

"...I told him. I told him why I did not want kids, didn't even want to experience being pregnant. He said he understood, that he respects my decision." She looks at me and I can feel her pain. "BUT GUESS WHO KNOCKS ME UP!"

I hear footsteps before I can talk. George looks at us and sighs. "I said I was sorry, like, a million times, Ren." His deep voice sounds so sad and depressed that I can realize how this affects him.

Imagine being sorry for being able to create a life.

George Rollins stands confidently with his broad shoulders, blue eyes and light hair. I don't know anything about his personality other than he loves Farren like it's the only reason he still lives.

He lives to love another human. If that wasn't what the human race has been trying to do for the past centuries then I'm wasting my presence.

Placing the biscuits freshly baked on the table, he takes her hands and kisses them. "Mon Cheri, I'm sorry for getting you unexpectedly pregnant but I refuse to apologize for wanting to make you the mother of my children."

I leave their house after the sappy shit. That, the whole fucking cliche true love bullshit, was the very reason I hated being with them together.

They make me want to choke, on hot lava.

Driving back home with my fingers typing the steering wheel constantly to a song I put on repeat, I deeply relate to the words she sings. It's like she dreamt of my soul when she wrote it, for people like me. A single gay looking for love.

"Try my best but what can I say, all I have is myself at the end of the day. And all I want is for that to be okay~" I finish off with an unnecessary high pitched tone, shutting my eyes shortly then laughing when the song starts all over again. I've been in an odd mood ever since the scene in the cafeteria.

A mood I've never felt in a long while, I feel a bit light weighed. A smile constantly escaping without my knowledge. It's odd.

After Divine put Grace in her place, the bell rang and we headed to all our classes. She sat right next to me until we left school, her dad instantly pulling to meet her and taking her home. Neither even acknowledged me before leaving.

She might be the reason for my odd mood but Peter is still the reason I'm still living. Both of them together, disturbing me, will destroy the whole reputation I built.

The good part about Divine coming here is that I can now stop making excuses to why I shouldn't stop loving Peter. He has a girlfriend now, who he clearly loves, so I could move on too. My love for Jung, as much as it saves me, it also limits me; why should I be hungover a half Korean, half Australian straight boy?

Pulling up to my house, I remember that Michael wanted to go to the animal shelter-- apparently, the little shit has been planning on getting a pet, not that I don't mind but the boy can barely look after him. I'll have to talk him out of it.

Rotating my car key in one finger and whistling, I open the door and nearly scream.

The fuck happened here?

I watch in horror as Micheal runs after a white ball of fluff while another fluff lays on the couch. The table has chips packets, candy wrappers and a licking can of soda, all littered on it.

The white fluff stops to stare at me with its head crooked, Michael scoops it up with a victorious smile. "Finally."
When he looks up he is shocked to see me.

Rubbing my aching head I hold up two fingers for him. "You have two minutes to explain this crap or so help me--" I suddenly notice that the house is a mess, dirty muddy paw prints all over, the lamp is on the floor, and the couch pillows have fur on them.

"One minute. One minute to explain," I rephrase.

He huffs, "I got pets. That one is a kittie" he points at the black fluff on the couch, "and this is a doggie." He shoves the dog to my face. He uses his cute voice, trying to make me see the adorable part of it all.

"I can see that." I say through gritted teeth, "what I want to know is what the hell are they doing in this house?! And what happened to this house?!"

"More importantly, what you, my dear brother that I love and cherish, should be asking is why the hell Peter Jung--your unrequited lover-- is in your room."