Well, my friend, you were wrong. Yes, 'tis a new story. A new, slash story. :D This chapter is craptastic in my opinion sooo REVIEW. Because I love reviews. Even though I don't have any recent stories for people to review, so how the fuck would I know, right? Well. Whatever.

Oh, and let me know if you want to be a beta. Because I've never had a beta. I don't really think I need one, but fuck it, I'll try anything once. Well, that's basically a lie, but I will try a beta. :D

Also, this story is based on a certain list of songs that I've compiled - hence the title - so I will be posting a link to the playlist I've created and I'll add a new song every time I post a chapter. Right now there's only one song since there's only one chapter, which is pretty pathetic, if you ask me. But anyway. Listen to it. I highly recommend it in order to understand where my head is at with this thing.

And ALSO, I've been talking about this story a lot. If you're a faithful reader (eh, I don't think I have any of those. I'm not... reliable enough, haha!) you'll have noticed that I've posted a few updates on my homepage, which I have since taken down. But this is that story! With the twins? No? Okay, whatever. You'll find out. Enjoy. :)



I scowl as I watch Alex Lavender make his way around the classroom, glancing over shoulders and occasionally leaning down to help anybody who is struggling with the questions. I hate him. I hate him more than you can ever understand, probably. He's just... he's annoyingly cool. One of those popular jock types, you know? But he's also gay, which is stupid. You can't be gay and popular. He's one of those masculine gays too, which is even more stupid. And he's a mathematical prodigy. He's like a walking contradiction. He's smart, popular, and gay, and the entire population of Rockville is convinced he's some sort of God-send. It's infuriating. I mean, there has to be something wrong with him, right?

I sigh and throw my pencil onto my desk, turning my scowl onto the textbook. More specifically, onto problem 7.39, which is asking me to find the volume of a figure that's revolving around a plane. Fuck me, right? I don't do math. Especially not calculus. It's useless. I cross my arms and check the time impatiently. 40 minutes until class ends. My scowl deepens.

"Something wrong?" an impossibly smooth voice asks from behind me. I tense, immediately recognizing Alex's voice.

"No," I snap, a little too quickly, because he kneels down beside me and I mentally groan. He raises an eyebrow and glances down at my paper.

"No?" he repeats, turning to face me. "Then why don't you walk me through problem 39?" I stare back defiantly, refusing to let him get to me.

"Fuck you," I finally growl. "It's not my fault I suck at math." He opens his mouth to respond, but I quickly cut him off. "If you say anything about me not doing my homework, I'm going to kill you." He just grins and raises his hands in surrender.

"You could admit you need help, though," he says before standing up and starting to walk away. I clench my teeth and narrow my eyes at his back, which has stopped about a foot in front of me. Arrogant bastard.

"Alex," I relent. He turns around, grin still in place.


"…I need help," I admit moodily. He smiles and walks over to me, leaning down once again to help me with the problem. He's sort of leaning over my shoulder, so I can smell his cologne and it's making me drowsy. I must be sick or something. My life sucks.

"So, what are your limits?" he starts, picking up my pencil to write down the work. And the whole time he's walking me through the problem, the only thing I can really seem to focus on is his hair. It's the color of chocolate. And it smells good. Like mint. And it looks so soft. I wonder if it's soft. Ugh, what the hell is wrong with me? Now I'm jealous of his hair too? Somebody shoot me.

"Hey, Seth," Alix says from beside me after Alex walks away, unnecessarily nudging me in the ribs with the end of her pencil. She's pretty much the only person I'm able to tolerate on a daily basis, but even she's too much sometimes.

"Ow!" I hiss, glowering in her direction. "What?"

"What are you doing?" she wonders, absently curling a chunk of magenta hair around her index finger.

"Baking a cake," I reply sarcastically. "What the hell does it look like I'm doing?" She shrugs.

"What are you doing after school?"

"Going home," I tell her, decreasing the hostility a bit.

"Can I come?"

"Yeah, I guess."

I turn back to my textbook, sighing at 7.40: What is the integral of Sin^2(x)? How the fuck am I supposed to know? I glance around the room for Alex; he's sitting at Mrs. Kushing's desk, looking bored. I glare at him, waiting for him to notice because I'll be damned if I'm raising my hand to flag him down. Unfortunately, he does, and he shakes his head before walking up to me.

"What now?" he asks. I knew there was something wrong with him. He's a total asshole.

"I need help," I mutter.

"I'm sorry, what?" he asks, leaning down closer like the prick that he is. I resist the urge to punch him in the neck.

"Either help me or fuck off," I demand, itching to kick him in the shin. He rolls his eyes and then I feel something warm on my hand. I jump at the realization that it's Alex's hand and my face immediately floods with warmth as I pull my arm away. He plucks my pencil from between my fingers and gives me a curious look. And then he smirks. The bastard actually smirks. What reason could he possibly have to smirk? Ugh. He's impossible.


"Sooo," Alix says, dragging the word out as we walk to my car. "Anything interesting happen since I last checked?"

"The last time you checked was an hour ago. So no," I inform her, unlocking the doors and tossing my backpack into the backseat.

"Pity. Life is so boring right now," she sighs.

"Tell me about it," I mutter as I start up the car and start to make my way out of the parking lot. "Hey, how are you doing in calc?" She shrugs.

"Same as always, I guess. It's nothing I can't handle. Unlike someone I know." I glare at her.

"Yeah, well, if you're so intelligent, do you think you could help me with the homework?" I ask.

"I guess so, but you know I'm a shit teacher," she says.

"Well, mostly I was just hoping I could copy yours," I elaborate. She rolls her eyes.

"That's fine with me, but don't expect to do well on tests."

"Oh, don't worry," I assure her. "I won't. Calculus is a lost cause anyway."

"Speaking of calculus," she begins, "Alex seemed to be pretty friendly with you today." I quickly glance at her from the corner of my eye.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I enquire. She shrugs again.

"I dunno," she responds quickly. "You two just seemed to be, um… playfully bantering? Have you made another friend? Is my wittle Sethy-Poo growing up?" I smack her hand away as she tries to pinch my cheek and glower at the road.

"No," I say. "I was not 'playfully bantering' with him. That sounds so gay."

"Well, it looked like you were being friendly! Sor-ry."

"So now my hostility looks like friendliness? Great. My life just got more pathetic," I complain.

"You know, it wouldn't hurt to make some more friends," she tries. "Maybe you'd be less violent."

"I like being violent, thanks," I return.

"You know what?" she says, brightening up. "You should go on a date!"

"Ew," is my immediate response. "I hate people and now you want me to date one?" She 'hmphs' and crosses her arms.

"It's just a suggestion," she grumbles.

"Well it was stupid. You should know better than to suggest something like that to an asexual person," I tell her. She rolls her eyes.

"For the last time, you are not asexual."

"Yes, I am," I argue.

"Nobody is actually asexual," she says. "You just haven't found the right girl yet."

"Whatever," I concede.

"So you'll do it?" she asks, clasping her hands together hopefully.

"Whatever," I repeat, more forcefully this time, narrowing my eyes.

"Great!" she all but squeals. "I know the perfect girl. Her name is Camille and she's Italian." She wiggles her magenta eyebrows at me like that small detail is going to make her seem more intriguing. "And she's gorgeous. You'll love her."

"Yeah, I'm sure," I say acerbically.

I pull up to my house a few minutes later. The first thing I hear upon pushing my car door open is a feminine shriek and I roll my eyes. I step out of the car and look up to the roof to find Jacob, my annoying, asshat of a brother, doubled over and laughing hysterically.

"What the fuck are you doing, Jake?" I shout, crossing my arms, attempting to look menacing. Lucky for me, he snaps to attention when he hears my voice and spins around to face me. I can be terrifying when I want to be, and he damn well knows it.

"Uh… n-nothing," he stammers, obviously lying. Just as I'm about to pretend I didn't interrupt Jake's disturbing schemes to get into my sixteen-year-old neighbor girl's pants, said girl barges out of her house and makes a beeline for me.

"Fuck," I hiss. I'm going to be honest: the girl petrifies me.

"Seth!" she screams, stomping up my driveway. I am vaguely aware of the trail of wet footprints following her.

"Amber!" I greet, feigning glee. "How are you?"

"I'm wet!" she yells at me, "because of your stupid brother!"

"Finally!" he shouts from the roof, snickering. I look up sharply, effectively silencing him with the threatening look I reserve for these situations.

"What happened?" I ask, turning back to Amber. By now, she's absolutely fuming.

"I was in my backyard, peacefully lying in the sun after a long day at school, when this asshole," she jabs her thumb at Jacob, "decides it's a really fucking ace idea to dump a bucket of ice-cold water on me!" I scowl up at him.

She's a nice girl, really – the epitome of the girl next door, if you ask me – so she doesn't exactly deserve Jake's stupid pranks. Usually she takes it out on him rather violently (pretty much the only time she isn't the definition of amiable), which is hilarious, but when she drags me into it, it's scary.

"I'm sorry you have to put up with his shit," I say honestly, grimacing at the fury in her eyes. "I'll, uh, do something about it." What the hell is she expecting me to say? I'm not his mother.

"I have a better idea," she says, eyes glinting maliciously. "You could let me into your house and I could fucking rip him apart." I smirk.

"Be my guest." Jake gives me a look that's clearly an accusation of betrayal before diving into his bedroom window, no doubt planning to cower in fear somewhere.

Alix is waiting for me in my bedroom, already pulling her calculus homework out. I take it from her and plop into my desk chair to copy it.

"Your brother is sort of a douche," she says, listening to the thumping and screaming coming from across the hall. I can mostly just hear Amber yelling at him, but occasional pained yelps from Jake are peppered in there as well.

"Only sometimes," I reply absently as I copy down the homework. "It's usually only to Amber. He's obsessed with her and he thinks that if he's a total asshole to her, she'll want him or something. It's stupid."

She hmm's thoughtfully as the definite sound of a slap rings out in the hallway. "Ow!" Jake hisses, and it sounds like his door has been opened.

"Jerk!" Amber yells, and there are a few more thumps before everything goes quiet. And then… no… that can't be…. Oh, shit.

I quickly look at Alix for confirmation, and her mouth is hanging open in shock. Yeah, she definitely heard that. I follow her as she crosses my room to open my bedroom door. And, sure enough, Jake is sprawled all over the hallway floor, Amber straddling his waist. He's gripping her hips and her hands are roaming all over his chest as they kiss.

I clear my throat and Amber immediately scrambles off of my brother; she gives me a sheepish smile. Jake, however, is still lying on the floor, a dazed expression on his face. I nudge him with my foot and he smiles like an idiot. I roll my eyes.

"Can't you do that in your room or something? Y'know, where I don't have to see?" He grins.

"That's a good idea. Hey, Amber, wanna –"

"Shut up," she cuts him off, frowning. "You're disgusting." And then she turns on her heel and starts marching down the staircase. Jake, of course, scrambles after her, shooting me a glare over his shoulder.

"Okay, maybe it's not such a stupid idea after all," I amend, stunned.

"Well," Alix starts, looking thoughtfully up at me, "He is pretty hot. For a seventeen-year-old," she adds when I give her a revolted look.

"God," is all I'm able to say, grimacing at the thought.

"Hey, you're not bad either," she assures me with a pat on the shoulder. "You guys do look alike, you know."

"I feel ill," I say dramatically, collapsing onto my bed. "It's bad enough I had to see him with his tongue down someone else's throat, but now you're saying he's hot? Sick."

"Oh, shut up," she says defensively.

"Cradle robber," I accuse.

"I'm only a year older than him, Seth," she reminds me.

"Oh, so now you're saying you want to date him?" I wonder. "That's disgusting."

"No!" She grimaces. "That is disgusting. I'm just saying."

"Well, don't."

"God! Forget I even said anything."