AN: CI isn't mine, nor are any of the characters, blah blah blah. Just saw the film, felt instantly attached to Kathryn, and unabashedly hating Annette. So here goes.

I'm not going to sit here and cry brokenly that I'm misunderstood.

I'm not going to let loose some story about how I was completely framed and all those ugly accusations are based on lies.

I will not degrade myself to come up with any justification for my actions.

To all the world, I'm a robotic bitch. More than that, I'm the lowest kind of slut; manipulative, malicious, unfeeling, heartless… the list stretches to include every vile description ever spoken or written. I'm the devil's spawn. A miserable whore who ought to be shamed from all society, for all eternity. Oh, but wait, that's already happening.

It's been a total of five hours since the until-recently-virginal blonde and idiotic Cecile handed out those copies of the precious conquest journal. Five hours since what I had worked my whole life to construct fell down around me. One would think that 24 hours of constant and careful lines of dishonesty would have bought me more than this. My world was destroyed. The queen of all high society, the dictator at the top of the totem pole of popularity was dislodged.

Oh, poor little me. The popular rich girl's all alone and dethroned.

Wah. Sob. No one cares. And I'm not going to make them.

I know I'm a horrible human being. My morals are nonexistent; I'm going straight to hell. And I revel in it.

So everything I had is gone.Big fucking whoop.

I did shed a tear, I did feel my legs buckle beneath me, and I did actually start hyperventilating in a washroom stall immediately after I realized what had just happened. But I recovered before a quarter of an hour had passed. I built this school and I had always known it would turn its back on me someday. Of course, I deserve it. I deserved being Queen after all the shit I've put in to be at the top, but those very acts make it impossible for me to ever be queen again. The fools. Anyone at the top has done what I did, or else they'd be dethroned very shortly. Everyone is a lying back stabbing bitch behind closed doors, yet the moment the door is open, they get shunned. Mainly because the hypocrites like to think that they aren't just like me. They can ride their high horse all they want, but I know what this is. I'm like Jesus fucking Christ. I'm getting crucified for their dirty little secrets that they won't ever admit to.

Maybe people would expect me to be in utter despair, wringing my hands and crying uncontrollably at the reality of unpopularity,

But I don't have a heart. My senses are dulled. My facial features have long been used to revealing no expression except the utmost in polite indifference, or in some cases closed amusement. To some observers, I look like I'm in shock. I may be buzzing from my last snort, but I'm not in shock. But then, all the observers are morons without the capacity to understand or interpret anything.

They all think they know me so well. They all sneer down at me like they actually believe they know all there is to possibly uncover about me. Stupid fucktards. This is why I have such pleasure from toying with them, you know. They're all such brainless retards. They only know the secrets that I had let him know. And though he did know far more than enough to destroy me, he didn't know everything.

He didn't know that I did actually care about him, for instance.

He didn't know that I didn't fake my indignation, my hurt, when he began loving her. He was my toy. Except he wasn't.

I didn't know how to be anything but vile. If I showed him I wasn't completely ruthless, I knew he'd respect me less. I would lose and he would own me.

Truth is, I wanted him almost as much as he wanted me. Only a fool would have let him have me. If I gave him the one thing I knew he seriously wanted, I would lose my power over him. I would have nothing to bargain with. As long as I kept him from having me, he wouldn't lose interest. Except that he found someone else. And I couldn't have that, you know.

Truth is, a rather large part of me was vastly relieved to see that he cared about me enough to drop her the moment I asked him to. But was it me or his reputation he cared for?

Yes I made him drop her, but he cared about her. He loved her. He wasn't mine any more. I couldn't let him know that I wanted him, especially now that he seemed so pained that he lost her. It stung me more then I'd like to admit that once again the guy I wanted had chosen the innocent over me. I can get any man I want, any time I want, until they want a relationship. I'm the first girl a man thinks of when someone mentions a good lay, but the last girl a man wants to stick with. And that's not a pleasant feeling. It's not pleasant to be dumped for being yourself; it's not pleasant to be dumped for trying to make that bastard happy to begin with. My power was my sexuality. Both my weakness and my strength was that everyone thought that was all I had.

I wanted him.

He was a beautiful man.

But he was much, much more then that.

He was a beautiful man who understood me.

He was just like me. Which meant he wouldn't judge, wouldn't be disgusted with me. He admired me.

He liked me for all the wrong reasons and if I showed him that I liked him back, all the things he liked about me would have been shot to hell. He would laugh and I'd be another conquest. I had to have the power. He always would have the power after sex- he was just that good. I always had the power before sex- I was just that much a tease. It was clear I could never let him see that my emotions weren't completely dead.

It was a mistake. I see that now. I won the competition. I defeated him. I had the power. But I lost him. I kept my dignity and lost my heart. I kept my respect but lost the very person I needed to respect me.

He would never have believed me even if I was honest for once.

But I wanted him. I really did.


Even now I can't just admit it. I'm stone cold Kathryn. I can't feel for anyone but myself. And I didn't. Except for him. He always was the exception to every rule.

I loved him.

He loved me, I knew he did. But I was intent on always having the upper hand. I wanted to keep that love from fading, and love held onto on such a short leash, especially when I made sure he didn't know it was reciprocated, can only go so far.

He loved me and I hurt him to save myself, to save the façade.

But God, I loved him. I needed him to be mine. There could never be anyone else like him who could understand me.

I threw up when I found out he died- and died for her.

I convulsed and broke ever breakable thing in my room when the further truth sunk in- he died and he died because of me. My lies, my constant drive to win killed him and she got to hear the I love you, not me.

A few packets of my sanity saving powder would shut my brain up, release the tension in my heart, and let me go on being the unruffled queen.

But I wasn't indifferent to his death. He was the only person on earth aside from myself that I felt a real affection for. We had always played games with each other- hurting each other was our way of proving our worth to the other. We always knew that we could never do anything seriously damaging to the other, we were both much too strong. But he had to choose a suicide mission, a stupid bet that was to make him soft and unable to withstand my latest sting.

I regretted it. I do have regrets, you know. Lots of them.

You're likely wondering how I got so fucked up. I can honestly say I'm just built that way. No one made me this way. No dickhead guy dumped me after I lost my virginity to him, turning me into a ruthless whore. I lost my virginity at 13, when my breasts were developing nicely and I realized they happened to transfix my best friend's older brother. I had no particular affection for the guy, but he did show me a good lay. And then I saw that sex was my very best weapon.

I wish I screwed Sebastian. Hard, heavy, and multiple times. He always wanted to do me from behind, to go down on me, to touch every centimeter of my skin, always wanted to feel me against him. I was the very best, and he loved me. And Lord help me, I knew he was the best too, and I wanted to feel his hands all over me. Like I said, he was a beautiful man.

Our parents met years ago, but they started getting serious two years previous, when I was just grazing 15. He was new to the area and one look at him and I knew things would get interesting. I was the forbidden fruit, and he became a worthy companion for all my evil plots. It worked out wonderfully, between the two of us with our looks and brains and charm, we could crush the hearts and lives of any one we wished. And all we ever needed to do was ask. It was a profitable relationship. He used to sneak into my room every night, climb into my bed, and let his hands wander over me. I never let him get more then a few seconds of a breast grab, he never got to see me without my bra on, we rarely frenched, and I only ever touched him over his clothes. Whenever I said stop, he would always let out this irritated groan, but he always retreated. I was his pristine stepsister, and his conquest would only be a victory if he knew I wanted it just as badly as he did, even if his body shrieked for him to continue. Most afternoons, evenings, mornings, there was another girl, but at least parts of his nights were reserved for me. He never said 'I love you' because come on, that was an absurd phrase to both of us and I would have laugh at him and he at himself, but I could feel it. He didn't just lust for my body, he didn't just respect my cruelty or admire my intellect; he grew to love me. It was a far different love than that of Annette's, but I always thought what he felt for me was real. It was a twisted and selfish love, coming from fucked up and moral less people, but it was love nonetheless. It wasn't tender and I was still never ceasing in protecting myself against showing him any emotion myself except amusement, but I cared about him more then I feel comfortable admitting.

I played him occasionally but when I declared that he didn't love me anymore- when that blonde bitch came into the picture, it was the first time I ever used the word love in reference to us. It was always a taboo subject, the whole world of emotions and feelings caused anger in both our souls. Emotions were weaknesses. Love was the largest mistake you could make, the stupidest thing to ever say. And he did reassure me that it was just a bet, but he didn't reassure me that he loved me. And I wished that we could be normal for 3 seconds and he could have just comforted me properly. But of course, that would require me letting on that I needed his comfort.

I can't remember what happened the night he died. He hadn't died right there on the street, but he kicked it a few hours later in the ICU. Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me and I think that I saw him, that I snuck in…

I told myself his injuries weren't life threatening, and in my hazy memories my pride kept me from going to the hospital until visiting hours were well over. I couldn't let anyone see me- especially not his new girlfriend. I begged, cried, flirted with the staff and they let me see him. I was family, after all. And there he was, hooked up to a billion machines and bandaged and bleeding and bruised. Still, his face was beautiful and largely undamaged. But I realized in that moment how serious it was and felt bile rise in me that I couldn't suppress. He saw me throw up out of pure pain, the first time he got confirmation I was human. He hated me and I knew it. But he was weak and rarely enough I was scared. I got into bed with him. He tried to shove me out.

"Don't die." I said.

"We wouldn't want to deprive you of your daily dose of amusement, would we?"


"I can't control what happens."

"You do love her, don't you? You would choose her over me."

"I did choose you, remember? But I'm just a toy."

"I went too far. I didn't mean it. The minute you get out, I'll let you screw me. I promise."

"I don't want to."

"You don't want to screw me but you'd willingly get hit by a car for her?"

"I'm on my deathbed and you're jealous that it wasn't your life I saved. Unbelievable."

"You do love me, don't you?"

"Sure, sis." He rolled his eyes.

And then I cried. I didn't burst into tears, I don't burst. But wetness trickled down my cheeks and I could feel that he wasn't going to make it. He still had his attitude, but he wouldn't make it.

"After all the hell I've put you through, I will miss you."

"Morbid, aren't you? But I'm sure that you won't miss me long even if I do kick it. A replacement will pop up."

"No one as fun as you."

"Is that supposed to be flattering?"

"I love you." The words were forced out with all the passion of Sunday mass, but however softly they were said, I had to say it.

"Excuse me?" I touched his bandaged head and kissed him softly on the lips. "Go away. I'm nearly dead and you choose to play your idiot games with me?"

"I don't want to lose you, Sebastian." He was starting to loosen up and he allowed me to take his hand. "How fair is it that nearly every girl we know has slept with you but I haven't?"

"Whose fault is that?"

"…How weak are you?"

"I'm not fucking you in a damn hospital! That's whore-y even for you! You're sick."

"I didn't mean what I said. I do care about you. You do mean something to me."

"Do I?"

"Do I mean anything to you?"

"I'd give it all for you. And you took it and threw it in my face, doll."

"You know how I am."

"I'm dying, Kathryn. Soon. I know I am and so do you or else you wouldn't risk saying all this."

"I should have said it sooner. I can't believe we won't get to fuck."

"I can't believe that after 2 years, I still haven't seen your breasts." I smirked and rolled my eyes and unzipped my jacket, under which I wasn't wearing anything.

"So obliging, just when it's too late."

"I can afford to lose." He knew what I meant and laughed.

"There's no one like you Kat. And you know, no one can ever replace you."

"I care about you. Always have." He kissed me, caressing my mouth with his tongue and took one last grab at my chest.

"It is too bad we never got to fuck." He laughed. "You can give me a boner, even now."

"Then live- and we'll rectify that."

"Doesn't work that way," he snorted. "But hey, swear you won't change, okay? You may be a hard core bitch but it makes you that much more interesting than other girls. Fuck the world over- you owe me that much for sucking Ronald on me and subsequently landing me here. Don't change- for the both of us."

"I'm not capable of change. And it's your own fault for having to be a brainless hero for the first and last time in your life. Why'd you do it? Give it all up for her?"

"What is it you want me to say, Kathryn?"

I frowned and pouted. "Why did you have to let the bitch change you? I don't like it."

"You never do like anything I do, do you?" Sebastian grumbled and shifted in his bed.

"You replaced me. In one week with her, you threw away years of us. You never liked the nice girls, Sebestian." I coldly accused.

"I never said I didn't like nice girls." I sharply glared at him. He grinned. "What? Just because I happened to like you didn't mean I didn't like any girl who was unlike you."

"You had to choose her. The one person who couldn't be more different from me."

"Actually, Cecile is the one person who couldn't be more different. You and Annette are kind of similar in some ways."

"You take that back." I hissed. At his laugh, I continued, "And if we're so similar, then why the hell did you choose her?"

"Why, dear sister, you're embarrassingly transparent about your jealousy tonight."

"I was yours. I was yours, you shit hole." I stood up aburptly and jerked his pillow away from him to make him lift his head and stop looking at me with so much amusement. He winced in pain and I was forcibly reminded that we were in a hospital room and that he was on the verge of dying. Realizing that I aggravated his life threatening injuries, I felt a jab of guilt that was greatly overshadowed by a smug satisfaction that he wasn't laughing at me anymore. Still, I pushed his pillow back to it's position and adjusted his head with as much gentleness as I could muster.

"And I was always yours, Kat. No one else's."

"She can't hold a candle to me."

"What do you want me to say? This is an excellent time to choose to be insecure. You're the only one I really want, you know that. And you've got to realize that you were the first person I ever loved. Not her."

I had depleted my self respect and couldn't lose his respect too by blubbering, and I would soon, like some common fairy. Damn him.

"You're willing to die for her."

"I'm not going to reassure you of my undying love, Kathryn. So just give it up." I didn't care if he was getting annoyed. Our relationship transcended boundaries, it was deeply rooted in areas that Annette would never be able to touch. And I deserved to have a proper goodbye. I bet Annette got the sweet puppy dog side of him. God, I wish that part of him would die and this part would live. They were two seperate entities. I didn't want Annette's Sebastian anyways. I'd love to see that Sebastian die. She could have him. But this one... it wasn't fair that Annette got both and I could have neither.

"I'll see you in hell." Sebastian grinned. "And I'll be right pissed if you suddenly become saintly enough for heaven 60 years from now."

"You're dying saved someone's life. You redeemed yourself enough not to burn in flames."

"A few days of not being an ass won't make up for a life of delectable sin."

"I wish I could be with you. No one here is anywhere near as engaging."

"You'll make do. Now leave before I say fuck the hospital and live out my dream of dying in a blaze of glory- right during intercourse."

"That's a pretty picture."

"Bye, sis."

"My rep's going with you, isn't it?"

"Knowing what I know, yes. I'm sorry. Your life is likely going to suck ass very soon." He was grinning.

"You take pleasure from this, don't you?"

"We're twisted that way."

"Everything we do-"

"-it's done out of our insatiable hunger that passes for love in emotionless demons like you."

"Your way of saying all is forgiven, I presume."

My eyes snapped open. I was outside the school. It's been five hours since the journal was passed around.

There's no way in hell Sebastian would have ever said anything that I just previously mentioned. To this moment, I'm still confused as to whether or not any of that scene actually occurred or if it's a complete figment. Between my heavy dosage of coke that night, the overwhelming return of my conscience, and my ripped up emotions, I can't trust anything my mind says happened that night. In all honestly, I probably just passed out in my room and dreamed the whole thing up and then upon waking up took the images as memory to comfort myself, to tell myself that I did have a proper goodbye. All I know that's true is that he did die that night in the hospital. But even in my figment, no one else was in the room except him and me, so there will never be verification. I don't even know what I want to believe anymore. If it did happen, then I threw away all my principles and self guided rules and humiliated myself in his presence. If it did happen, I can't respect myself any more for being so utterly out of character and by all rights I shouldn't be able to respect him any more for being reduced to that simpering sappy little boy. Of course, if it did happen, he did love me and I didn't let him die without making sure he knew I felt the same way. And that's both a comforting thought and a haunting one.

God, I'll miss that son of a bitch. Life really will be awful without him.

I know he didn't want all this to happen to me. He cared too much. What he wanted was to inflict it himself. Jesus, we really did have a royally fucked up way of loving each other.

I know I'm selfish, I'm unkind.
Sucker love I always find,
Someone to bruise and leave behind.

But Sebastian never was someone I wanted to leave behind. He was the only person I would have gone to hell and back for. Dragging him with me to hell, of course. But he wasn't some lovesick puppy like all those other boys. He wasn't brainless, he wasn't classless; he had everything going for him. There are no two people in this world like the two of us, no two people as cold and good looking and clever. And I don't think he understood what I know- he didn't see how much we belonged together. And maybe I'm glad that he's dead, at least he's spared the fate of being good little headmaster's daughter's boyfriend. She was already turning him into someone completely different, someone he would have mocked mercilessly just a few weeks ago. I wouldn't have been able to bear watching him demolish every trait that made him what he was. If he had lived only to go on being a spineless schmuck, it'd have been so much more painful- at least now I can somewhat cherish the memories of the bastard he was.

Ah, but that's a lie. If he was still living, I wouldn't despair completely... as long as he was still living, I would still have a chance to wake him up to what was happening to him, to change him back. Annette probably thinks she 'fixed' him in his last hours, but I know that she's the sole reason for the death of his soul. She crushed his spirit. She made him love her and then twisted around who he was. There's no way she really loved him- you don't set out to turn the people you love into polar opposites.

God damn it, I'm still fucking jealous of her, aren't I?

Well, don't I have a right to be? The bitch replaced me. I was his sister for Christ's sake! I was the symbol for the perfect woman in his eyes for most of his teenage existence. He was supposed to crave me unendingly, not until the moment some other girl sauntered around. I'll admit it. I don't understand it. I don't see how she's any different than the insipid bimbos who used to disgust him so much. Maybe she's a bit prettier than they were, and maybe a little smarter, but I refuse to believe she was a better fit for him than I am. Annette was everything I wasn't. If I'm the seductive daughter of Satan, she's the angel from heaven. By choosing someone as different than me as humanly possible, Sebastian pretty much just spat in my face and declared me not good enough. I don't take rejection well. Even if he's dead, I'm still jealous. It irks me. I want to make it stop. Love is supposed to be a joke. It's not something we feel. Us against the world... he never saw that while we tortured other idiot couples, we were the epitome of what a real couple should be. Powerful, equal, we didn't make the other stop their life just because we were in a relationship. We dated other people, we slept around, we taunted each other, but at the end of the day, he was mine and I was his.

And no one will ever know. Once a slutty bitch, always a slutty bitch.

I killed the only man I'll ever give an ass wipe's about.

My intentions may have been cruel, but you've got to admit I've got skill in what I do. I'll walk on in this world of imbeciles with my head held high, even if I do need to drug myself to get the same euphoric adrenaline I once had with Sebastian.

No one will understand me, I'll see to that.

Now excuse me while I think of a proper way to bring Cecile and Annette down with me. If I don't make a move, it's obvious she'll be the new reigning Queen. And where would the integrity of the position go if a truly moral and upstanding citizen rules the school? The airheads won't get away with this, even if Sebastian did love her. He'd expect nothing else from me, after all.

We're not sleeping, and I'm not breathing
If this means anything at all
I won't let you leave me anymore

I crushed the ear bud that had been dangling in my ear. Everything playing was crap. I shut my eyes again. Who am I kidding? I can't keep doing this.God, how can I be an indifferent bitch when my main audience is gone? I suppressed any feeling of tears that were threatening to erupt again and desperately tried to forget everything.

Annette got the car and the journal I always wanted to read. It burned to see what he really thought of me. Perhaps it was just smoke screen, but I think I was the worst thing that happened to him.

I need more coke. Too bad it's all gone. Thanks a whole fucking lot, Sebastian. He really must have been obsessive about me to write down every damn detail. Unless he was always planning to someday reveal all my nasty secrets. He was the smart one. Everyone knew he was an ass whole player, nothing I told anyone would have been worth telling since he didn't hide his off colour habits. All that stopped him from selling me out was his affection for me. Or maybe he just had a small joy from holding onto the secrets for optimum revenge when the moment really called for it. I did sort of kill him, it shouldn't be surprising that he'd find a way to bite me back.

"Hey sis."

I looked up blearily and shook my head in complete bewilderment.

"You're dead."

"Nice ice breaker."

"I told you not to die." I muttered crossly like he had merely gotten me the wrong drink.

"Annette really fucked you over." He grinned maliciously.

"What do you want?"

"Can't a brother visit his sister from beyond the grave?"

I looked at him closely, at his cheerful expression and his perfect skin, at his neat clothing and aloof posture. Finally, I declared, "You need to get new shoes. I don't like those. They make you look like a fifty year old yuppie fag."

"This is your favourite outfit of mine, don't lie." He rolled his eyes and inched up so that he hovered over me like a looming building.

I had to crane my head to meet his eyes. "I'm going crazy, aren't I?"

"Crazy from missing me."

"You are so full of it."

Sebastian squatted down in front of me and took my arm. "Go for Ronald. He still thinks you're sex on legs and he'll still take you over Cecile even now. Mess with him a bit. Make the dickhead pay for punching me."

"You hit me first. It's not his fault he's so chivalrous." I smiled innocently.

"Figures you'd take that bastard's side over that of your dead best friend's."

"Was that what you were, lover?"

He chuckled. "Just take care of Ronald for me." He striaghtened. In a flash of panic, I latched onto his arm.

"Where do you think you're going?" I demanded.

"Don't worry. I need a smoke. I'll be seeing you, sis." And he strode off, shaking off my vice like grip. I stared after his retreating back with mounting horror. I was going completely insane.

"Sebastian!" I shrieked. He stopped and slowly looked back, that devilish smirk gracing his feautures, blew me a kiss, and gave a delibrately cheesy pelvic thrust in my direction.

That was only the first of very many visits from Sebastian. It was as if he never left earth. And maybe he didn't. It would suit his nature to be hanging around after death just to taunt me. Sad as it may seem, I don't think I'd have survived if it wasn't for him. Or at least the illusion of him. Every night, he still comes into my room and settles beside me on my bed, his fingers still brush against my bare skin, and he'll shut his eyes with uncontrollable pleasure, keeping me from the loneliness of my blackness when there was nothing else to distract me from the ever present hole in my life.

I don't know if I was actually losing my mind or not; perhaps it really was Sebastian... one can't know for sure. And even if I am a literally crazy bitch, I know that Annette doesn't get to see him. She hasn't seen him since he died. He always did love me more. I'll cling to that.

I squeezed his soft hands and ran my finger over a recently acquired ring. He hadn't really been taken with rings, but this one suited him.

"You're mine forever." I smiled. He smiled back but with his free hand he removed my fresh store of coke and hid it away from me.

"You're going to kill yourself one of these days. If it's not bulimia, it's drug addiction. If it's not that, it'll be HIV. Sis, you've got a death wish."

"You're right."

"I'm here. You don't have to kill yourself to be with me."

"I stuck it to Ronald. He's been booted from Juilliard." I announced, forthrightly changing the subject.

"That's good, Kathryn."

"I'll make them all pay for your death. Every last one of them. We're already trying to crush that cab driver. And I'm poised to scratch out Annette's eyes."

"And you, my cold blooded killer? How will you exact revenge on yourself?"

"Don't you see? I do it to myself every day I breathe and you don't." I said good naturedly. I leaned against his chest and closed my eyes. "You always did like to see me suffer."

"Call me a sadist."

"Sebastian, are you really dead?" I asked him this at least once for every two times he came to me. He smoothed my hair and kissed my forehead. He never did like to answer me. "Sebastian? Did you really love me?"

"Silly rabbit." He smiled broadly. I looked up at him seriously and he simply nodded.

"Tricks are for kids." I said.

"But love isn't just for the weak."

"See you in a bit, dear brother." I whispered before drifting off into unconsciousness. I knew that when I next opened my eyes, he'd either be gone or he'd never leave again. The latter was what helped me sleep at night, the former was what kept me snorting. You know things have gotten really shitty when you pray for death. Sometimes I think that if the devil asked me for my soul right now, I'd sell what was left of it to have Sebastian here with me. But what devil would want my sorry excuse for a soul?

Kathryn lives on, however fragmented. My life has turned into a maze of half remembered images, of slurred words. I live in my head with Sebastian to keep me company. No one else can ever replace him. It'd be an insult to try.

He did love me more. He's mine. He's mine. And I've let it all go away because I'm his.