A/N: ahh the 3rd chapter has finally arrived and I hope all you readers will notice it is longer...I finished it at last! So yeah...enjoy, and please review, it makes me feel all nice and warm inside! Special thanks to all my reviewers, you guys rock my world immensely!, so sit, relax, and enjoy what I hope to be a successful flashback!...PS I do not own converses (CH2) or MTV and its programmes or the Mafia (please don't kill me XD) (CH3) and I'm sure somewhere in the world there is a place called The Great Scot, but for all intents and purposes, it is owned by ME!

Chapter Three

...It was only a month ago, though living every day since felt like a series of torturous lifetimes. It was a Friday night. My best friend Kat and I had our evening shift at the local Italian deli and restaurant, ironically named, 'The Great Scot'. Truth be told, I didn't need a job, financially speaking. In fact, according to Kat one late drunken- on her part anyways- night, I was just 'wasting my time and should just get daddy to buy it, at least then she would get decent wages!' in her typically sarcastic tone. Of course I knew Kat was joking. She of anyone would know that 'Daddy's Girl' primadonna spoilt brat look really didn't suit my un-Barbie doll appearance you see plastered everywhere these days. Granted I could have turned out like that, you know, the whole MTV Sweet Sixteen deal. But alas my parents, ok my dad, always thought he'd "brought his daughter up better to know the real stupidity and ultimate greed behind materialistic want." But anyways, unlike the rest of my tiny village, Kat understood that I wanted a job so that from 6pm till 9pm, Tuesdays to Fridays I could have some small experience of normality. Don't get me wrong, sometimes I hated it there; the entire bossy kitchen staff, the hellishly annoying manager, and on that particular night, the difficult customers.

He was one of them; one of those disgusting walking erections that made my life in this little town complete hell. He, like his friends and the rest of our male population, never found the time to get past the whole 'slutty, idiotic, spoilt brat' persona I once again had TV to thank for. So I'm in the middle of waiting tables, when in walks Johnny Caruso- some weird Italian name that made him feel like he was head of the Mafia or something- and his friends. So as per usual, he has to make a big scene coming in; interrogating other customers, flirting with the too willing waitresses, before finally sitting down and ordering a burger, chips and a beer. He's only sixteen, but the girls just get him whatever her wants because they aspire to be his bitch. And his dad owned the restaurant. I guess that's why I got the job in the first place; some kind of sick fucking plan of my mother's who got Johnny's dad in on it. They were hoping we'd be engaged by our 6th year prom. Things didn't exactly turn out that way. I drew last at rock, paper, scissors with Kat that night on who would wait their table. I reluctantly dragged myself over, not even bothering with my happy 'customer smile'. They knew I hated them anyways.

"What do you want to eat," was my sullen tone.

"Don't know...its under-your-skirt specials tonight, how about it boys?" I was going to be sick. I could hardly look at him; the mere feeling of his intense staring was enough to make my skin crawl.

The sad thing was that I was used to comments like this, especially from brats like Johnny. Believe it or not, we were actually friends in nursery, hell even in primary school. But once he learned all about 'girls' he was never the same. He tried to get me to go down on him once, in our first year of high school, so I slapped him hard across the face and ran like there was no tomorrow. Since then, I had developed a particular loathing for Johnny, one similar to my soon to be best friend Katorina Victoria Smith, or Kat. I would have thought after five years of glaring, hitting and hate, in our 6th and (thank god) final year of high school he would have given up and moved on. But to him, it was a game; I was the only girl to flat out refuse him, and he saw that as a challenge. My complete loathing of him was a mere obstacle in the way of my underwear on his bedroom floor, like the countless amounts of girls before me. This obstacle though, he chose not to challenge or defeat, but completely avoid while he got what he wanted. He was a lazy, inconsiderate, egotistical bastard.

So there I was, standing in front of them, too tired and fed up to even recognise the mortification which began to burn brightly on my cheeks.

"Look, why don't you just fuck off, ok? I know you're dying to re-enact some gay porno in Johnny's room or something," I murmured, just loud enough for them to hear me. With a fake gasp of shock, he replied in a sarcastically tainted sweet voice,

"Now, Jane. That is no way to speak to a paying customer. Maybe I should get the owner of this joint (-yes he's half Scottish and says things like 'joint') a.k.a dad, and complain about your less than polite attitude."

If it were possible, my head would have sunk lower to the floor, just begging the carpet to whisk me somewhere far away from him. I didn't want to lose this job; apart from Kat, it was my only escape from complete insanity. Johnny laughed at my compromising situation before speaking up again in his predictably arrogant tone

"Come on Jane. It's been five years. You know you want me. It's completely understandable, and I'll happily make your kinkiest fantasies a reality. All you have to do is ask nicely, and in that naughty but nice voice of yours which just turns me on so much. Come to me Jane..."

I looked up at him with pleading eyes, as if I could get him to stop all this. I would even beg if it meant he would accept the terms and walk out of my life forever.

A smirk from his lips morphed my own facial expression into one filled with rage, sadness, frustration and hate. I looked him over. What happened to him? Did he hate me that much he had to make my life a living nightmare for his own sick pleasure? I didn't know, but all I did know was that this 'Johnny' character was not the John Edward Marco Caruso I once knew as a child. That sweet little boy I adored has slowly turned into a cruel, sex addicted monster.

"See something you like?" was the enraging question which burned from his widely parted lips, from his sadistic smile. My gaze finally fell on his empty blue eyes. And from out of nowhere a hand I recognised as my own flew swiftly across my body and hit its intended target- Johnny's face. My body writhed in pleasure at the sharp sound of impact.

I regained Johnny's eye contact and could tell that outbreak of violence wasn't like all the others. All of my loathing and torture had gone into that forceful swing, and I knew the bruise that had started to form was more than skin deep. It was then that I noticed the slight amount of red liquid that ran from his nose. So snakes could bleed? His face contorted in pain and his eyes screamed fires of resentment. I almost smiled at my doing. By then, everyone had stopped eating, and even Mr Caruso himself had come from his much beloved office to find the cause of the horror stricken expression on many of the guests' faces.


I deliberately threw my cheque book and apron onto Count Blood's –who knew how much a broken nose could bleed?- table and stormed out the door, only stopping when Kat blocked my way to hug me before letting me out the god forsaken iron doors. 'Screw this, screw this stupid place and this fucking job!' I thought, while sauntering my way down the gravel path towards the car park. It was only 8pm, I could go home and wait for Kat to finish at 9pm and make plans to go somewhere. It's not like I would be in a lot of trouble for losing my job, at least not with my mother. She always hated my job. "It will make people think we can't provide for our only daughter," she would tell me in her overly practised English-sounding accent that made her feel important. So the fact that I "decided to quit my job" would be a drop of pure delight to her. My dad's excuse, however, would take a lot more thinking.

Pondering this, I was lost for breath when I felt myself being violently pulled by the wrist and smacked against a wall (one I only guessed was the back of the restaurant which faced the car park).

"What the fu-..." was all I managed to spit out before a leather gloved hand prevented the end of my sentence from being heard, while another put both of my hands above my head. I looked tensely into the eyes of my captor, already in full knowledge of his identity.

"Well, if it isn't Jane, the little tease. You think you can just walk away from what you just did to me, you little bitch? Well think again. Perhaps, finally, I can make an honest woman out of you."

Tears were streaming down my face as I tried to scream for help. I knew he was finally planning on getting what he had wanted after five years. I knew what was supposed to happen next.

"Johnny!" was the relieving call that came from around the corner.

"Johnny, where are you..." was the second call as one friend of Johnny's headed around the corner, and had to do a double take as he saw what was happening. His eyes darted between me and Johnny for what felt like forever, before he spoke up, quieter that time.

"Johnny, man, come on, let's go. There's a party tonight and we're all waiting for you. She isn't fucking worth the trouble. I bet she isn't actually a virgin. COME ON!" was what came from the dumpy boy's mouth, a surprising and almost comforting mixture of shock and frantic concern coming from his voice. Though his last comments stung like salt on the wounds I had already gathered that night, his appearance and sudden sympathy still made him my saviour.

With that, I felt the grip on my hands and chin slowly loosen and eventually release. I could still hear Johnny's angry intakes of breath; I even felt it on my cheek, like the feeling of his eyes which were still fixated on my face that went like ice down my spine. I realised he was still right in front of me; mere inches lay between us. That distance terrified me as it got even smaller as Johnny leaned in to whisper in my unwilling ear.

"This is far from overJane." He spat my name out like I was a street rat. He brought he hand up once again to my chin, tugging my face closer to his until our lips met in a revolting lock of pure defeat.

And then, he ran away with his friends, leaving me to fearfully drive home, run into my room, in near fits of painful tears as I went to lean against my window pane. Looking down at my red wrists and feeling the throbbing of my jaw I knew that poison filled kiss didn't mean the end. I rubbed my inflated lips frantically. I knew it was farfrom the end.

So guys, that's the end of that chapter, How'd you like it, was it ok? I suppose it was relevant to the previous one, all about the "see something you like" but I guess in a way it was a bit of a filler to kind of set the scene of her previous life...hopefully by the next chapter it will be a bit more open between the characters, where Jane will start telling the stranger about her experiences, rather than it all being told as flashbacks in her mind..Hope you enjoyed...REVIEW!! LOTS OF HUGGLES RRGF xox