~∞ ROSES ∞~

Chapter One: A Rose and a Letter

He had done it. And he was miserable.

Fang Walker, school's hottest player was downright miserable. He sat on his bed in the dorm he shared with his best friend James, sulking. You could say he fit the description of emo now, minus the cutting. Then again, not all emo people inflict pain on themselves.

The hollow sound of someone knocking on the wooden door carried down to Fang's bedroom. Three short knocks before they stopped. He could hear the sound of someone's light footsteps fading in the distance.

Too down to go get the door, Fang fell backwards on his bed, hands running through his long, black hair. Why was he so upset? Why was he sulking? Why did he break up with Maximum Ride? And most importantly, why was he in love?

He knew the answers to most of the questions. He was upset because he had been stupid, and had been pressured by Sam to break up with Max. He was sulking by the break up, which he had been told to do in the harshest way possible. He broke up with her because of Sam, although that was an excuse, rather than a reason. But he didn't know why he was in love with Max still.

What about her was meant to be loved? She had the snappiest and most sarcastic attitude Fang had ever seen in a person. She never did what someone told her to do. She reacted with her heart, rather than her head. She was violent. But she was loyal. She was beautiful, kind, and gentle.

And this is why you still love her, a voice in Fang's head reasoned. He shook his hair out. He had broken up with Max. It was over. Fang couldn't still be in love with her, and run back, expecting Max to forgive him; she was too proud and stubborn.

Fang rubbed his legs, trying to get some sense back into them. He had been laying down on the bed for what seemed as eternity. Gently, Fang lowered his feet to the wooden ground, and silently walked to the door. He opened it, and spotted a golden box lying on the ground, unattended.

Picking it up, Fang strode back to his room, and locked the door. He stared at the long golden box, trying to figure out what it was, and why it had been left for him. Was it someone who had heard about his break up, and sent their condolences? Or was it one of the girls that he'd normally waste no time in messing around with for a few days?

Making up his mind, he propped his lean torso up on the pillows covered in black, placing the box in his lap. It didn't weigh very much. Fang took the lid off the box, revealing a long, thorned, and perfect rose. A red one. He immediately had his suspicions as to who the sender was.

A note was attached as well, with neat handwriting covering both sides. The red rose was the first give-away, but the handwriting told him exactly who it was. Fang looked at the note.

...

Fang —

Our so-called love was like this rose; sweet, and if I was a poetic person, which I'm not, I'd say it was beautiful. But it had it's ups and downs. It's thorns in the bushes.

I honestly don't know why you did what you did. I don't know if you were forced, or it was all your own decisions. I don't know if what you did to me or told me was all an act.

When you asked me out, I can't say I was surprised. You, the hottest player, yet a jerk. And me, no one much. Over the months we were together, your behavior startled me. Who knew you could be so sweet, so kind and daring? I didn't. Then again, it could've all been lie. Nothing real.

Don't deny it, you were genuinely surprised when I had actually said yes to your pleads and begging. And yes, you did get down on your knees and beg like a dog. But what you didn't know was that I wasn't one of those senseless girls who throw themselves at you. That I actually had a brain!

From the moment you asked me to be your girlfriend, I knew that you were going to date-and-dump me as you did to all those other girls. I had planned to dump you first. But you shocked me when 'we' lasted a month, and even more.

I didn't think it would last any longer than the school year. I hadn't planned on making it that long, and I had thought you hadn't either. I was right. You broke up with me two days ago.

I should be crying and sobbing and sulking shouldn't I? I should be depressed out of my mind. I should want murder you, bring you back to life, and kill you again. But I'm not. Because I have something to tell you.

Ever heard of that poem, "Roses are red, Violets are blue…" with different variations? Well, here's one.

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

Did you really think that I'd cry over you?

I told you I loved you,

You though it was true.

But guess what, player?

You got played too.

As I said before, I'm not a poet, so obviously I didn't make this. But I hope this tells you what our 'relationship' was.

Lots of Love,

Maximum Ride.

PS: I'll see you in Hell.

...

By the time Fang finished reading the letter, tears were meandering down his olive cheeks. He dropped the letter on the ground, and got up, rose in hand. Walking to the kitchen, he grabbed a cup and filled it with water for the rose to sit in.

He never should've broken up with her, no matter what Sam had said. But now, he wasn't so sure about that. Max was going to break up with him either way.

If only he had noticed the smudges of the blue ink pen, where tears had fallen. Max's tears.