Rough Edges

By: Converses Rolled Down

A/N: This chapter is a test to see if I should continue with this story. This is a dark, angst, yet romantic story along the lines of Jules456's 'Bohemian Rhapsody' and 'Freedom', KC-Chick's 'Denying Fate.' or my own 'Just Let My Blood Drip.' This story has the main characters a whole lot edgier than on the show, this season or last. This story begins where the pilot did, meaning none of the characters have been established yet, and Ryan isn't with the Cohens as of now, and Summer still has no clue who Seth Cohen is. Please review and let me know if this is a good start and if you want any more chapters, if I continue this will be an R/M, S/S, Kandy, J/J, J/K, and J/H, fan fiction.

Important: This story will be intense, meaning a lot of drug use, sexuality, self-mutilation, teen pregnancy, and drinking.

Here it is…

The steel mattress stung his back, but it was nothing new. No, Ryan Atwood knew full and well the harsh texture of the Chino Juvenile Facilities' beds; he'd been held in that cell over night, he tried to steal a car-no his brother tried to steal it, Ryan just couldn't leave and let Trey take the fall by himself. His baby blue eyes shifted to the ceiling, chips of white paint hung loosely-as if daring Ryan to move, he was used to things crumbling around him but sick of trying to hold them up. He lifted his arm and placed it behind his head-now almost in a sitting position.

"Atwood, you got a visitor," the guard bellowed.

He got to his feet and walked to the steel bars, which were swiftly becoming Ryan's natural surroundings.

"Yeah, who,"

"Don't be a smart ass. It's some lawyer," the guard opened the door with a couple twists of his keys, and grabbed hold of Ryan's arm and led him down the corridor.

Chants were mounting as he passed each cell; the first ones were innocent comments like, "fresh meat," or "Momma's boy." But, the further the corridor went the worse the comments became; "Bring him on over here officer, need to make him a man," "Crush you with one hand boy," and "Looks like a nice fuck." Ryan didn't let the other inmates see him shutter, he just glared back at the floor; avoiding their hollow eyes. Finally they came to the end, a loud BUZZ and the last gate, between Ryan and freedom, opened.

"Cohen?" The guards yelled out into the lobby; waiting until he saw a man with bushy eyebrows approach him.

"Yes, Sandy Cohen," an id badge flung open, reflecting the remaining late from the Californian sun into the guard's eyes.

"This way,"

Ryan was led to a slender blue table in the middle of what used to be the mess hall-they closed it down after some guy was killed during lunch with a tray; made it into a visitor room. The guard pushed him into a seat; he nodded at Sandy and stepped a couple feet away, enough to not hear the conversation but still close enough to catch Ryan if he ran.

"Sandy, Sandy Cohen," he stuck out his hand for Ryan to shake, but found no hand placed in his, "okay. Well, I spoke with the police officer who arrested you and your brother, and it seems you were just a passenger. He told me you looked unsure of why you were there. Was the car jacking your brother's idea?"

Ryan just looked at Sandy, his eyes slightly slanted.

"Ryan…isn't that your name?"

Ryan sat completely still-his mouth barely moved with the words, "yeah."

"Well, Ryan, I think I can get you out on probation. Would that be okay?"

"What about Trey?"

"Trey is eighteen years old Ryan, he has a longer rap sheet, he'll be in jail a while."

Ryan sighed at looked at his hardened hands.

"I don't understand it. You seem to be a great student; an SAT score of 1400, a GPA of 3.8. You're a smart boy Ryan; don't you want to make something of yourself? Don't you have a dream?"

Ryan leaned in; whispering, "Where I come from, having a dream doesn't make you smart. Knowing it won't come true...that does."

Sandy shook his head, "I'm going to sign you out, stay here."

Ryan looked to the guard who stood with his hand on his pistol, "I'm not goin' anywhere."


The ground in front of her spun until she collided with the cold cement; making her one with the revolving green swirls, she felt as blood trickled from her temple to the corners of her water deprived mouth. Small coughs of laughter came from behind her almost life-less body.

"She's so gone," some squeaky voice announced.

"Hey Luke! Your girlfriends passed out on the porch," screams struck her ears like a thousand needles filled with air.

She managed to murmur her best friend's name, "Summer."

Luke's arms wrapped around her before she could protest "check this out," he spun her around and placed her on the ground again. Giggles and snorts were the last sound she heard before sinking sharply into her comfortable, soothing, and familiar darkness. No one could bother her here, no one could call her 'perfect' in here, no one spoke in here, and no one could damage her in here. The drugs, no matter how many times she heard 'they'll kill brain cells,' seemed to be the only thing that could bring her to this echo of reality. Cocaine was nothing innovative to Newport, but it was hard to find in her little bubble suburb. Marissa Cooper, however, knew how to get what she wanted, she always had and no one was going to deny her this escape…no one.


Hands ran over her body not stopping; even if she cried out no one would hear her. She felt the faulted skin against her own, and cringed as rubbery hands removed the clothing that was left. Innocence isn't in her anymore she misplaced that necessity- which every other sixteen year old seemed to still have- but it wasn't her fault, just like this isn't her fault. She shivered as cold trails of kisses went up her neck to her lips; she tasted the evil in his kisses, tasted the sin and hatred in them. She pulled again at the rope around her wrists, but he tied them so tight they felt like another part of her body; her invaded, stolen body. Sweat made her hair stick to her face, and the tape that covered her chocolate brown eyes gave her no vision of the man on top of her.

'I need to see his face, I need to tell someone about this, I need to scream, I need to get free.'

The burning she felt inside finally stopped, she was alone in the dark. Darkness had never scared her before, in fact nothing picked at her soul the way this pitch black abyss did. She lifted her limp body as best she could, and struggled again with the slowly slipping rope on her wrists. Summer Roberts…raped?

Alright that is all I have so far...let me know by clicking that little blue button and submiting a review, and if I get enough reviews of people who like it I will continue when I can...and I promise I will update if you people like it. Because thus far I like the way it just let me know if I should continue.