A/N: Hello, all. I’m cowriting this with RebelStarKitten! Yay! These are just the intros, wait until we start slashing everyone together! Guess who will be with who, if you fancy. Please review. We’ll be heartbroken if you don’t. And tell us who you like best.

Perfect Fit, chapter 1

Lotus Antonio Parson slung his backpack over his shoulder, trotting down the hall of his high school. It had been a long day. His brownish-red hair was tied back by a bright yellow bandanna, but the slightly blonde front pieces stil fell in his face. As he walked, he took off his cat’s eye style glasses and wiped them with his paint-stained shirt, before replacing them over his brown eyes.

He was very thin beneath the baggy shirt. In fact, his mother was always telling him he had to eat more. As he walked, his best friend Jason jogged up behind him, closely followed by his other best friend Lori. Brushing back her frizzy hair, Lori started to ramble about a test she’d had that day. Jason didn’t say anything. He rarely did. He fiddled with the bellybutton piercing that he’d just recently gotten done.

Lotus nodded occasionally, pretending he was listening to Lori, but really thinking about the painting at home that he was going to finish tonight. It wasn’t until he was almost home that he realized he had to write an English report first. Sighing, he opened the door.

“Lottie! My bambino!” Angelo, Lotus’s mother, called enthusiastically from the kitchen in his heavy Italian accent. Lotus had picked this accent up slightly over the years.

Angelo came out of the kitchen, his long chesnut hair in a ponytail for cooking purposes. His petite body was wrapped in a bright pink apron that clashed beautifully with his violently colorful dress shirt. “Hi, mom.” Lotus dropped his bag, readying himself for the gigantic hug he received from his mother.

When he finally managed to pry Angelo off, he went to his room and readied his brushes. He just couldn’t wait to paint.

Zachrael Devon Conwitt was angry. Very angry. This was not at all uncommon. He drove his fist into the boy’s face again, his fury searing through him like white fire. The boy he had hit was gasping on the ground, blood gushing from his nose. He kicked the boy. Not caring. Let them feel his pain. His lip curled in a snarl. He pulled his foot back to kick again, hearing a teacher yelling at him to stop. Why wouldn’t they just come and make him. Not that anyone would dare.

Later he sat in the principal’s office for about the thousandth time in his life, still fuming. The stupid old man was repremanding him, but he really didn’t care. This was keeping him out of his stupid anger management class, and giving him another reason to hate.

Eventually, he escaped the office. He didn’t even care about his punishment. He was overflowing with rage and hate. He needed booze and sex. He needed to lose himself. That could come later. Now he had to go home. The longer he put it off, the worse it would be.

He ran his tanned hand through his thick, greasy brown hair, pushing it out of his light brown eyes. He wrapped his arms around his malnourished, yet muscular frame as his stomach growled. He was hungry. If he was lucky, he would eat tonight.

He pushed open the door of his family’s house, which was really no more than a dirty hovel, and was greeted by his parent’s angry voices. He shut the door, bracing his body as the first hit drove home. He tried not to care.

No matter how he tried, no one would ever feel his pain.

“Hold her, you fucking sissy, hold her!” Joshua Justin Hunt threw all of his tiny weight onto the spirited mare’s lead, trying to hold her still while his brothers yelled at him. He couldn’t do it. The rope slid through his hands, taking most of the skin on his palms with it and throwing him to the ground. The horse bolted into the fields.

“You a fucking idiot! Now we gotta go catch her!” His oldest brother, Bobby, yelled before taking off after the horse, three other brothers in tow.

Josh was the youngest of them at seventeen, though he was so tiny he looked only about thirteen. He didn’t follow, not seeing the point. He’d just get in the way and trip over things. His hands hurt very badly, and a tear dripped down his cheek as he tried to flex them.

Sighing, he put them in front of him slightly and started to walk in the direction he thought the barn might be. He couldn’t see very well at all, most of his world was just a blur, but his parents refused to get him glasses. His huge amber eyes squinted, trying to bring his world into focus. He raised one of his aching hands to push away the bleach-blonde hair that was further obscuring his vision, tucking it painfully behind one ear.

Amazingly, he did finally make it to the barn. He wanted to check on the new kittens before going to the house for lunch. They stumbled up to him, mewling, as soon as he entered, and a smile tugged at his lips. He loved animals, especially baby ones. He sat down, and one of the kittens managed to climb on his lap. He bent to kiss it, and it nuzzled against his face, making him giggle. After a few moments with the kittens, he gave them back to their mother and made his way up to the house.

It took him longer than it would take a normal person, and he tripped a lot more, but he did make it. After lightly bandaging his hands, he went to his room and locked the door. He dug carefully through the back of his closet, and looked around fearfully, even though he knew no one could be there. Then he took out a pair of his mother’s high heels and one of her nicer dresses that he had hid there earlier.

He slid out of his overalls, which he had cut off into short shorts, and put on the dress. Despite his hideously bad farmer’s tan and the fact the dress was ugly and about fifty sizes to big for him, he looked rather nice. He tied a string of pearls around his neck and pulled his messy hair into a ponytail. Then he put the heels on and began to walk around the room, walking in the four inch heels as well as any professional could.

-

The boy stood up and stretched his arms out in front of him as he grinned, his untameable mule brown curls bouncing around his shoulders as he turned his head. He pushed the black bridge of his glasses higher onto his nose, the light bouncing off the lens and deep blue frames. He grinned as his forest green eyes followed the teenager beside him.

“Hey, moron.” Bonnie laughed, grinning. Her hair was as untameable and curly as his, just a little darker, and a bit longer. She high fived him and folded her arms as she walked along side him. “And how’s Dylan doin’ today, huh?”

Dylan grinned back and laced his fingers behind his head. His tee shirt hung from his scrawny frame as if from a washing line. “Well, I’m excited. My brother’s staying this weekend!”

“That’s awesome!” Bonnie grinned, punching the air. Dylan smiled, reaching down to pull his pants up a little. He really needed a belt, but his mother didn’t want him wearing one. It was ‘too much’, she had said. He adjusted the usual blue wristbands that resided just above his hands, and sighed.

“Hey Bonnie, wanna come over? I have nothing to do now – Done all my homework for the week.”

“What about the dragon?” Bonnie asked, grinning and folding her arms again. “I mean, -Candice- might not like it.” Dylan laughed and shrugged.

“Nah. You’re her favourite of my friends. Aqua!” he laughed, as they continued toward his house. Bonnie nodded and sighed, chuckling.

Nathanial looked around nervously, brushing his fringe gently out of his glittering eyes. Everyone that glanced at him let their gaze linger a little longer on his eyes. They were a beautiful grey-blue, but no one saw that, because of what really caught their attention – his contacts. They were ice blue, with a black soccer ball pattern on them. He walked out of the doorway meekly, still keeping a close eye on his surroundings. His platinum blonde hair only reached his shoulders, but swept out in the wind as it brushed past; also ruffling the old soccer shirt he was wearing. A raven head walked up and pushed him hard in the shoulder. He snapped around, eyes bulging. “George!?”

“Yeah, it’s me, fag.” the large boy growled, folding his arms. “You’re going to pay for breaking up with me faggot. Not that I was gay in the first place.” Nathan’s eyes watered slightly as he was pushed back again. “So stay outta my way, alright?”

The small boy nodded and backed up quickly, eyes to the ground. George and his posse laughed and walked on. Nathan looked slowly over his shoulder as more tears built up in his eyes. A firm hand was set on his shoulder. This belonged to him ‘mum’, Chris. The Puerto Rican blinked, turning Nathan around. “Are you alright, little man?”

Nathan nodded, before pressing his face gently into Chris’s chest. The older man pulled him into a hug, smiling. He loved his adopted son’s thick accent, just like his husband’s. “Oh, it’s alright, honey. If they do anything again, you tell me and dad, alright? You know you can, honey.”

“Of course…” Nathanial mumbled into his chest. Chris sighed, rubbing his son’s back.

“Cheer up, Nat. Y’know what?” he asked softly, his cinnamon eyes smiling. Nathan looked up, his eyes red from the tears running over his contacts, and shook his head. Chris grinned. “We got a few hours until your dad gets home. He’s on 2 to 10s this week. How about we go act out that play you wrote a few weeks ago?”

“The one about the faerie loosing his powers?” A slight smile spread across his face. “Alright, Chris. Let’s do that.”

Dana Alexander Rolston squealed happily as someone moshing in front of him shoved him backwards into a hot guy. The guy smiled at him, mouthing ‘Are you ok?’.

Dana nodded, shoving the guy playfully into the crowd with his hips. He undulated his sexily slim and lithe body, which would have made his excessive amount of jewellry jingle if the concert hadn’t been so loud. His skin tight crop top showed off his bellybutton piercing and super hot toned stomach. His egyptian blood was obvious in his golden skin and Cleopatra-inspired eye makeup. His huge gold hoop earrings hit against his face as he danced, amazingly never getting caught in his waist length shining chestnut hair.

He undulated his body, showing off his immense skill as a belly dancer. He knew many guys were watching him even in the cramped space as he rotated his hips alluringly.

One of his friends grabbed his arm and started to drag him out of the mosh pit. As they cleared the worst of the crowd, he saw that it was Anna. When they finally got far enough away from the stage, she yelled to him that it was almost midnight and they had to leave. He nodded, and they met up with the rest of their friends who were by the door. Outside, they could hear again, and Marcy started to talk about this really hot guy whose phone number she had.

Dana offered his opinion as Marcy described him, and then launched into a detailed description of the guy he’d been pushed into. All of his girls said that with his hot dancing, every guy in the place would be after him. He giggled at this.

“Oh, stop it girls, you’re making me blush!” Dana threw his long hair over his shoulder and flipped out the keys to his hot pink convertible. As he did, he stopped dead in his tracks, his huge chocolatey eyes wide and fixed on the ground in front of him.

He suddenly burst into tears, his knees giving out under him. He couldn’t take in air. He started to hyperventilate, curling into the fetal position and hugging his legs tight. On the asphalt in front of him was a dead bird.

Joan knelt next to him, the other girls not far behind her. “It’s ok sweetie. It’s just a bird. Let’s get away from it.” She pulled him to his feet, and another of their friends, Heather, covered his eyes. “One of us will drive.” She took the keys from him and threw them to Marcy, manuvering Dana into the back seat, where he could have his panic attack safely. He had severe necrophobia, which was fear of death or dead things. He had calmed down a little by the time they reached Marcy’s house, and was able to drive himself home.

Jade Scott Innanen shoved his finger down his throat, leaning over the toilet and letting his lunch come up. The bile burned his mouth, but he didn’t care. When he was sure everything was out of him, he washed his face and looked in the full length mirror on his bathroom door.

Yup, still fat.

Or at least he thought so. In reality he was beyond thin and into the realm of skeletal. His ribs stood out with frightening clarity, his hips and collarbond much too pronounced. Green eyes still shone bright in his emaciated face, though they were sunken in. The blackness of his pin-straight, long hair contrasted violently with his pale skin.

His world span for a moment in a spell of dizziness, but he held the doorframe to keep himself upright. After he recovered, he walked out of the bathroom and down to the living room, where his brother was. His parents had died in a car crash when he was three, leaving him to be raised by his much older brother Jesse.

Jesse looked up as he entered the room. “Jade, baby, I made an appointment for you at the doctor’s, alright?”

“I’m not going!” Jade yelled, running into his room and slamming the door.

Ariel Damien Simmons stood on his street corner, watching the people drive by. He hadn’t been picked up yet. Eric would by angry if he didn’t bring any money home. He would take Ariel’s stash.

Ariel gave a little shiver. Three hours since his last high. Another hour or two and he’d go into withdrawel. He nervously patted down his long, dark crimson hair and straightened his tight clothing. He wanted to go home to Eric, the boyfriend he had foolishly left home to be with. But he didn’t love Eric any more. And he knew if he came home without money, Eric would hit him.

He was tired, and he just wanted to sleep. To get high, and then sleep. But first he needed to be picked up. It was a slow day. Finally, a car slowed next to him. It was one of his regulars. Without a word, he quelled the usual fear and sorrow and climbed in.

He wasn’t having a herpes outbreak, so there were no sores to hide. He went to his blank, unfeeling place while the man fucked him. He took the money. Now, at last, he could go home.
-

The room was literally chaotic. People yelling over each other, paper and all sorts being thrown around, the whole place was in turmoil. A small boy, a bit older than the others, crouched in the corner of the crowded room, his hands clenched tightly over his ears.

“C’mon guys, louder, louder!” one boy screamed. A small girl was screaming back at him to shut up. The small boy in the corner winced as another paper ball unintentionally hit him, tears streaming down his face.

“Would you guys just shut up!?” the girl screamed, stamping her foot. She finally gave up, running over to the crouching boy as his shoulder-length plait slipped over his shoulder, and wrapped her arms around him, helping him up. “C’mon, Ollie, let’s get you out of here, alright?”

He nodded slightly, his tanned cheeks still wet with tears. She led him out of the class slowly, slamming the door behind her. He hiccupped slightly and hugged himself as she led him downstairs. She sat him down on a bench, and sat down next to him as she flipped a blue cell phone out of her bag. Ollie rested his head against her shoulder as she dialled a number into it.

“What if a teacher sees you with it out, Kelly?” he asked softly, but a little bluntly. She looked at him and gently began playing with his plait as she heard the phone ring.

“Quite frankly, Ollie, I don’t care. This is an emergency. You can use them in an emergency. Alright? I’m going to call your mum.” she smiled. She paused as the line was picked up. “Hello, Anne? This is Kelly. Can you come pick Ollie up? He’s in a state.”

Kaithan winced as the blade sliced through the pale skin on his forearm. He used to cut just to see how much it bled. Now he did it whenever something brought him down. He smiled slightly, although he didn’t like what he was doing. The pain and blood sort of gave him an adrenalin rush. He dropped the knife, tensing his arm. The tendon tightened, and the blood flow slowed. He shakily reached into the bathroom cupboard, pulling out a roll of gauze bandage. He gently wrapped it around his left arm, which was still bleeding. The bandages on his right arm were already replaced. He stood up, shaking slightly, before washing the knife in the sink. When the colour and smell of blood was gone, he walked back to his room. He slowly lowered the knife into an open drawer, closed and locked it. He lay down on his bed, pulling his sleeves down, and adjusted the belt on his jeans. They were tight, and showed off his hips well. But the denim over his crotch was getting tighter. He looked up and crossed his legs as a small woman walked into his room. He quickly grabbed an Infamous Murders book, and looked up from a random page at the newcomer. She had long, brunette hair and laughing green eyes. She blinked. “Did you fall over again, honey?” she asked softly. The tight, grey skivvy clinging to him showed the shape of the bandage around his arm. He nodded slightly.

“Yeah, mum. It was bleeding. Don’t worry though, I wrapped it.”

“Alright, honey. You’re going to Dylan’s this weekend, remember?” she smiled, nodding. Kaithan smiled slightly and nodded, shifting his legs uneasily. Couldn’t she just say hi and leave?

“Of course, mum. How could I forget?”

“Good. Well, dinner’s in about an hour, right, hun? Chicken.”

“Great.” Kaithan smiled as his mum left the room. When he was sure she was gone, he got up quickly and closed the door, locking it. He paused and sat back down on his bed, leaning against the wall. He hesitated, before slowly began to undo his belt. He moaned and let his head loll back against the wall as his hand moved deeper.

“Sachio-kun, chotto matte kudasai!”

The young Japanese boy turned around, clenching his fists around the handles of his crutches. His tanned skin shone in the Hiroshima sun, as did his smiling, crimson brown eyes. “Hai, Simon-kun?”

“Doozo!” his twin shouted, standing on the porch of their small house, a small, black case in his hand. They lived just out of the Chiiba Prefecture, where there weren’t many people. Not like they could afford to live in the city anyway. Simon grinned, before speeding down to his twin and skidding to a stop before him. “You nearly forgot your glasses!”

“How could I ever?” Sachio laughed, as his older twin undid his bag and stuffed them in. He smiled as Simon threw his arms around him, nuzzling into his neck.

“You’ll come back, won’t you?” Simon asked, a little more quietly. Sachio’s heart suddenly sank, blinking. He had muscular dystrophy, and his life span was expected to end at about twenty-ish. Although he didn’t show (many) signs of a sudden death soon, the environment in America was much, much different to that in Japan, as was the food and the general way people lived. He wasn’t sure he’d last to the end of his stay. But he was determined…

“Of course I will.” he smiled, pulling his crutches up and wrapping his arms gently around his brother, resting his weight on Simon. “No promises, but I’ll be damned if I’m not here for your 18th birthday, alright?”

“Alright.” Simon smiled, letting go. Sachio put his crutches down as their father walked out.

“Chichi!” the younger twin smiled, as Joe wrapped his arms around him. He sighed gently, and nuzzled into his hair.

“Hai, Sachio-kun. Remember to be nice to your host family, and give them the gifts you picked out.” he smiled, reminding his son gently. Sachio nodded and smiled. “Sorry your mother’s at work, koiishi. Alright, well, your sensei is here to take you to the airport. Sayonara, Sachio-kun.”

“Hai, hai, sayonara!” Simon added, waving. Sachio smiled.

“Hai, sayonara!” he grinned, before beginning to make his way to the dark green car parked out front. Although, he was breaking up inside. He didn’t want to leave his family.

Luyanda yawned and walked slowly into the lounge, a blanket wrapped around her slender shoulders. Her milk chocolate coloured skin began to glow in the light of the tv screen. All she could see over the back of the couch was a blonde head. She walked over and sat next to him. “Ethan, baby, why don’t you open the curtains?” she asked softly. Her African accent was still very thick, but was slowly mixing with a Welsh one. He looked up at her, his bright eyes wide and well, kinda blank.

“But then that makes the game less scary!” he whined, before turning back. His own voice was thick with a Welsh tint, and he couldn’t stay away from the screen for more that 20 seconds at a time. She laughed and sat down on the couch, coughing and curling up next to him.

“Are you playing that horrible Silent Hill game again?”

“No, Silent Hill 3!” he corrected, laughing himself. “And it’s not horrible. It’s awesome. Especially the soundtrack. It rocks.”

“Okay, I’ll admit it.” she smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. “Why aren’t you still at school?”

“5th period. Free period. Gone home. No study.”

“Alright, alright.” she laughed. She blinking and looked up, breathing into his ear as her chin remained resting on his shoulder. “Who’re you taking to the convention with you, bubbles?”

Ethan paused the game instantly, looking at her and sighing. His father had gotten tickets to a horror game convention for him, and Luyanda. He sighed and shook his head. He couldn’t take Luyanda as first intended, since she was sick. And his mother hated this kind of stuff.

“What about Ja-”

“No.” Ethan replied instantly with a serious face. “No. Not Jason. You know how much shit he gives me for being gay?”

“Oh, oh, right…” Luyanda said quickly. “Well, we’ll find someone, don’t worry.” she smiled, cuddling into her brother. He laughed and unpaused the game, carrying on.