A/N: Hello everyone! Yes, I've decided on a new fic, this one to be a bit darker and with more angst. (mini applause) Thanks to my bestest friend in the universe for reading this beforehand. (wink wink) Hope you enjoy, and tell me if you think I should continue it.

Chapter 1: Yellow Tulips

He knocked on the door with his elbow, fumbling through his pockets for his keys with one hand while struggling to juggle the steaming hot package of fish and chips and bouquet of yellow tulips he bought from the not-so-friendly florist downstairs with the other.

"Mel? You in?" He called out.

After he realized no one was going to open the door for him anytime soon he dropped the flowers gingerly onto the floor and shoved his own key into the keyhole and turned the doorknob.

"Who's there?" Someone yelled from inside.

He sighed sadly, picked up the flowers and shut the door gently behind him.

"It's me, Mel." He replied in an exasperated tone, his sneakers sinking into the soft brown carpet. "Where are you, little bitch?"

She popped her head out of the doorway of her bedroom, her short raven hair tousled and messy and her obsidian eyes shining brightly. As always, he thought she looked gorgeous.

"Oh, hey Bran." She greeted him, rubbing the sleep away from her eyes. Even in a simple high-collared shirt in black and cream coloured shorts she looked like a supermodel, but hotter, edgier, darker. Just hearing her spouting his name out of her coral lips made his heart melt. Just a little.

He shook his head quickly. She could never be his. Or rather, he could never have her. They had been friends for nearly six years - just friends, nothing more. He cringed at the thought of having to stay that for any longer, even though that particular outcome was inevitable. The more he tried to understand her the more she closed herself off to the world. They were just too…different. She was different. Different and alluring, dangerous, beautiful…

"I guess these are for me?" She asked playfully, indicating the flowers. "I thought you knew that I fucking hate yellow?"

He swallowed. There it was, the spiteful tone in her voice, bouncing off the bare gray walls. The only imperfection behind her beauty.

She grabbed the tulips and tossed them onto the living room table, uncaring towards them. She walked into the kitchen in her usual graceful manner, one foot in front of the other while he followed behind her quietly. She was so close yet so far. So impalpable yet tangible at the same time.

"Are you hungry? I got food from the chippy down town. Your favorite." He said cautiously. He knew he was taking a big risk by buying her that, but he knew it was the only thing she would swallow without putting up…much of a fight.

She flinched, seemingly remembering all the cold nights where they huddled together next to the fire, him feeding her lukewarm chips she barely tasted and squeezing her shoulders while she shivered in a mix of paranoia and fear. Her breakdowns were becoming more and more frequent and he worried for her every day. And her drug use didn't make it any better for either of them.

"Yeah," She murmured, her obsidian eyes glazing over. She twirled a lock of her shoulder length hair around her pointer and tapped her bare toes nervously against the pine floors of the kitchen - habits of hers which he's observed ever since she was a child.

"Sit," He said, pulling a chair out from under the mahogany table for her.

She scowled, refusing to do so. "What are you doing here, asshole. You know that I don't enjoy company. And now with the fish and chips too. Are you trying to make me fucking hate you?!" She yelled, anger marking her delicate features.

"Melanie, please." He pleaded. "When was the last time you ate? Or slept?"

Her scowl grew deeper, more menacing. She didn't know how much more of this she could endure. "It's n-none of your business." She sneered shakily. "I hate it when you pretend you care but I know you don't. I know you're just helping me now but once you get the chance you're going to dump me, aren't you? I'm just a sick little sparrow that fell out of the nest! Aren't I? God, don't even try to deny it Brandon. I don't need your sympathy."

He bit his tongue before he managed to scream bloody murder at her. He just couldn't. He couldn't risk losing her.

"I know, Mel. I know." He said finally. "I know you don't need my sympathy. I know you don't need me."

She knitted her brows in confusion. "Then what are you doing here." She asked evenly. She was always so strong, so tough. The only times she showed her vulnerable side was around Brandon, who she considered her bestest friend, nothing more. She couldn't understand – she couldn't even begin to comprehend why he cared so much for her. Why he showed up at her doorstep every other day to check up on her. Why he brought her sweet smelling flowers he knew she couldn't accept?

"Because," He started. I love you. "You're like a sister to me. I can't lose you."

She rolled her obsidian eyes. "Oh, sure, Bran. You're the brother I've never had." She said sarcastically. Each word out of her mouth were like daggers to his heart.

"Okay, whatever." He said, giving up. "Be a sour bitch, for all I care. See you when I see you, Mel."

He was halfway out the door when he heard her whimper.

"Bran,"

He turned around slowly.

"I'm sorry." She mouthed.

They stared at each other for what seemed like forever, although it probably only was a few seconds.

"Me too," He said sadly before shutting the door closed, turning his back to her.

She watched sadly as the plain, navy blue door slammed shut, leaving her alone again. She laughed bitterly to herself as she slunk into the chair Brandon vacated. The apartment always seemed so…empty. She tore open the packet of fish and chips and nibbled on a french fry. It tasted like cardboard in her mouth. She closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair, running a hand through her short hair.

She couldn't believe she did that. She couldn't believe she said that to Brandon. He was the sweetest guy she knew. He was her best friend. No, her only friend. And she just…pushed him away again. She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood.

"I'm sorry," She whimpered again as she buried her face in her hands. "I'm so sorry…Bran…"

Her phone suddenly rang and she fished it out of her pocket before glaring at the screen. The name 'Winston' appeared and she answered reluctantly.

"What the hell do you want?" She shouted into the phone.

Loud cackling comes through the other end. "Hello to you too." Said a low and gravelly voice.

"Winston, you know I do not like your bullshit. Now what the hell?!"

The voice on the other end hushed her. "You've gotta relax, babe."

She felt like swearing at him and telling him what she really thought of him. "Do not call me that." She hissed.

"Are you still coming over tonight?"

She took a moment to find the right words. "…Yeah,"

She could feel Winston smirking through the phone. That bloody bastard.

"Bring the money, and your hot little ass, won't you?"

She hung up abruptly and hurled the phone against the wall. The phone didn't break but the battery popped out as she fell back into her chair. She glanced at the food on her dining table and frowned before flipping the entire table over angrily.

Melanie walked to his house, pulling her leather jacket closer to her shivering body. Winter was fast approaching and the cold, bitter air was making her teeth chatter.

She had received plenty of stares along the walk downtown but she didn't care. She knew she looked perfect. She relished their admiring gazes. She knew the guys wanted her, she knew the girls wanted to be her. She knew the drugs kept her perfect. Hell, she'd look even more perfect after she got her next lace of line.

She always hated walking up his driveway, knocking on his door. His house was plain, the kind that wasn't that big or small, the kind you just walk past. If only people knew the perverted sicko who lived inside…

She hated going there, but it had to be done. She needed him. She needed the drug. She pressed the doorbell with a black nail polish covered finger and the door opened almost instantly.

A man in his early thirties glanced down at her, his spiky brown hair and hazel eyes making her stomach churn. How she hated his face.

"Winston," She mumbled, looking away momentarily to make sure no one was watching.

He lifted her chin with a finger so her eyes met his. "Welcome, Melanie. Would you like-"

She swatted his hand away swiftly. "What can fifty dollars get me, bastard." She asked, puffs of cold air coming out of her mouth.

He smirked. "About three lines, just for you babe."

She closed her eyes shut, dreading to hear the next words out of his disgusting mouth.

"….But only if you get on your knees for me."

She slammed the door shut and did just that.

"Corn!"

She turned around just as her best friend Josephine ran up to her, her twinkly pastel blue eyes lined perfectly with plum eyeliner.

"Hey, Jo!" Cornelia greeted her. "You seem…hurried."

Josephine shook her head, bending over so her hands were on her knees. "Have you heard the news?" She asked in between pants.

"Apparently not. What's up? Other than the ceiling or something." She asked as they started walking towards the dining hall.

"Your sister Inphyy won that basketball competition! I heard she was a-mazing!" Josephine gushed, her dirty blonde hair bobbing up and down with her head.

Cornelia rolled her eyes. She knew her older sister would win. She was always the most athletic in the family. Although she did have three sisters - Inphyy, Melanie and Melissa.

Josephine noticed her friend's jaw clench and unclench. "Are you thinking of her again? Ggah, I'm sorry. I know you get all…whatever when I talk about your family. I shouldn't have mentioned anything!"

She shook her head. "It's okay, seriously." She murmured, more to herself.

It had been so long since she last saw her sister Melanie, and she was fond of the time she managed to get away from her. She hated that monster after what she did…

"No, it's not." Josephine insisted, squeezing her arm. She knew what the mere mentioning of family matters did to her bestie. They had been friends for so long but still she still hadn't told her about why she hated her family so much. "I'm sorry, Corn."

The rest of the walk was silent. Cornelia's mind flashed back to that night, the night it all went wrong.

It was nearly six years ago, Cornelia's eight birthday. Her older sister had dressed her up in a pretty pink party dress with pop-art flowers and twirled and danced her around their living room. She had always adored her sister Melanie, her beloved older sister. They were so…happy then.

"Happy birthday, baby sister." The then thirteen year old Mel had whispered into Cornelia's waist long and jet black hair. "Things are going to change soon, okay?"

Back then the naïve Cornelia did not fully understand her but agreed anyway.

"Uhm, you okay Corn?"

She snapped back into the present as Josephine pushed open the heavy double doors of the dining hall, the distinct and lingering stink of disinfectant and boiled cabbage filling her nostrils.

"Yeah, perfect." She mumbled, walking ahead.

Melissa chewed on a fingernail, feeling unhappy about how the night was shaping up to be. She had just found out she failed to get the highest test scores for her midterms and she had accidentally watered and fertilized her precious orchid when she wasn't supposed to, leaving the leaves wrinkled and slightly yellow.

The only highlight of her day was the fact that her younger sister Inphyy called her, telling her how she won some regional high school basketball competition. But as much as she liked Inphyy, she could never fully love her. She wasn't the real Inphyy. Or at least, not to her. The other, or rather, her real sister was long gone, playing with the angels in heaven. Or so she thought.

She sighed and leaned back against her way too fluffy pillows. The Collins family was as messed up as always. Her twin sister Melanie who she hasn't heard from for almost a year was out there, most likely up to no good again. The only relatively sane person in the family other than her was Cornelia.

Her fingers traced circles along the keypad of her phone. Should she call Melanie? Or should she call Cornelia? Even though they were giving her the cold shoulder she still missed them dearly. They were family, anyhow.

She also felt guilty about the fact that she hasn't visited her parents for a few months. Her parents' grave, anyway. It was only a twenty mile drive away from her college dorm. She figured she would have to make plans to visit everyone sooner or later.

She dialed numbers into her phone and pressed it to her ear, hoping her sister would pick up.

"Hi, Mel?" She said unsurely.

She heard swearing from the other line and closed her eyes shut, moving her raven bangs out of her eyes. Melanie had the same bangs as she did, only she preferred to tie them vertically away from her face with an elastic band into a little ponytail. She had always wanted to be quirky, cool, different. She wanted to come out of her older twin sister's shadow.

"Yes, you bitch?" Her sister snapped.

For some reason a smile spread across Melissa's face. She had missed listening to her voice.

"I missed you, sis. How are you?" She said chirpily, ignoring Melanie's sharp tone.

Her sister sneered. "Great, thanks. How about you?" She said sarcastically.

She sighed sadly into the phone. "Are you high, Mel? Tell me the truth."

"God, Mel. Just piss off, okay?" Melanie yelled in anger. "It's none of your fucking business. You have more important matters to care about, right? Like that stupid orchid mum gave you before I killed her?!"

Melissa had to pull the phone away from her ear so the decibel of her sister's screeching wouldn't cause her to go deaf.

"Calm down, okay, sis?" She said, trying to do the same for herself. Her dark cobalt eyes flickered towards her little phalaenopsis orchid sitting daintily next to the lone window in her dorm room. She remembered the day she had received it from her mother the day before her death.

Her beautiful mother, who had handed her the newly bought orchid which petals were as white as snow but slightly speckled with pink in the center. She felt her stomach churn as she remembered that her dear mother died at the hands of the person she was talking to now over the phone. But she preferred not to dwell and remember too much of the past. Her sister on the other hand found it amusing to bring it up to her whenever possible.

"Don't tell me to calm down, sis." She said meanly, emphasizing on the word 'sis'. "You want me to do something for you, right?"

Melissa sighed again. She knew there was still a sweet side to Mel. She just had to find out how to get to it. How ironic that they shared the same birth date, near identical looks and the same nickname but had almost nothing in common. "Look, I was wondering if you wanted to go with me to mum and dad's grave. You know, just a visit. I miss you, Mel."

She started to worry when her little sister hadn't replied after a minute or two.

"Melanie? You still there?" She asked quietly.

"Yeah, I'm still here." Her sister replied in a softer, kinder tone. "I'm…not sure if I'm comfortable with that."

Melissa exhaled. "Inphyy and Cornelia are coming too." She lied.

She heard her sister snort, her niceness ebbing away as quickly as it came. "You mean the fake Inphyy and my baby sister who hates me to death even though I love her even more than you pretend to?!"

"Melanie, don't be ridiculous. You have to leave the past behind you!" The older of the two shouted, losing her cool.

"My God, Mel. You liar!" Melanie shouted furiously. "Don't tell me to leave the past behind when you yourself hate my guts. I killed your precious mother and father, didn't I? I fucking stabbed them to death that night six years ago and made my baby sister help me torch the whole damn house down. You fucking hate me. I know you do."

Melissa closed her eyes and clamped a hand over her mouth so she wouldn't say anything she would regret. "I don't hate you, Mel. I love you. You're my sister." She muttered after a while.

She heard the sound of a lighter clicking through the phone. Her sister was probably smoking something dodgy now.

"I wish I felt the same way about you." Melanie whispered before hanging up.

Melissa dropped the phone onto her lap, turned off her bedside lamp, snuggled under the covers and drifted off into uneasy sleep.

Info: To any confused readers here, there are four Collins sisters (from youngest to oldest) – Cornelia, Inphyy, Melanie and Melissa.

And to anyone wondering what the hell all this 'Fake or Real Inphyy' stuff is about, more soon! At least, if I ever continue this. But in all honesty I actually enjoyed writing this a lot. I pondered about the characters during a funeral (I know, I know. The easily offended may shoo away.) and wrote this up in a few hours. Please review if you want more!