So I'm just trying something out. This is my first original, so it needs some tweaks. Constructive criticism is welcomed with open arms. Especially for grammar errors, I hate making those sorts of mistakes. Short chapter, since this is just the opening, they will get longer.

"Ruby." His husky yet still caring and comforting voice caressed my ear from the phone. " I need to talk to you. Are you home?"

It's like my dreams. The sort of ones that you never see coming, and then, all of a sudden, there they are. The ones that you never forget. When he, the Prince Charming phones me in the middle of the night to confess his perpetual love for me, and together, we run to the ends of the earth, and live blissfully forever after, and-

"Ruby?"

"Hm? Ahem. Yeah. Yeah, I'm home. Come on over." Smooth, Ruby. Really smooth. See, you try and seem sophisticated, yet somehow, you manage to make a complete idiot of yourself every single time. You should just stop trying.

"Thanks, see you in five."

Aah. Aiden. Knight in shining armour. Apple to my eye. Bee to my honey. You get the idea. Eyes, so basic and blue, yet with the energy of a young child's and the passion of…a passion fruit. Like, bottomless pools of...blue. Damn, I should be a writer.

A gentle rap on the door recoiled off the walls of the staircase. My heart fluttered, and, scampering down the stairs, I contemplated what exactly it was that he wanted to talk to me about. I'm not going to hide the fact that I do have some desires, and yearns for what I wish for him to say, but the reason within my head has spent the past few years convincing me that that won't happen. I'm starting to believe it.

He stood on the doorstep, looking unsettled, but still left me breathless as ever. Heaven's tears were pounding on the pavement, and dripping from the chiselled jawbone that I had many a fantasy about.

"Hey."

"Hi. Come in."

He didn't show any sign of staying, which bothered me a bit, but hey, if he has his love for me on his mind, then he's going to want to spill the sweet-corn quickly before I melt. No, stop. It's probably something completely innocent, combined with fatigue? Maybe?

True love, or happily ever afters, weren't originally something that I believed in. Talk to anyone, and they will tell you, that no two people were specifically designed for each other. That working as a couple is, as they say, all a matter of compromise. Sometimes, it causes arguments. Ground-shaking arguments. But, then, without the break-ups, there would be no make-ups, which, let's admit, are always the best bits.

Just with him in the house, I already felt better, like I could call him my own. Yet I knew that things such as that were just silly. But hey, this was important enough that he didn't want to tell me on the phone, had to tell me face-to-face, possible ending with a fuzzy embrace, where I am masked in man-scent that is so – manly. So – Aiden. What about children's names? Oh, with his genes, these children could be supermodels. With his eyes, and his hair, and his skin, and his – oh, who am I kidding, they will just be miniature versions of him. And we could have this big house in Barbados or somewhere exotic -

"I'm in love with April."

Yes! And the sparks fly, see, now for the hug and we – wait. What?

"Huh?"

"April. You know, April Henderson, from German?"

April.

How I hated her.

She was one of those people who was undoubtedly perfect. With some of these, you can put your intelligence above theirs. But she was so damned good at everything! All of the teachers loved her, and the males of the school worshipped the ground she walked on. I honestly thought that Aiden was different, one that actually had a bit of originality, and maybe liked a girl because of her personality, rather than physical assets. But no, they're all the bloody same. Typical. And to think I thought he would go for me. Clearly he isn't the person I thought he was. Or maybe I'm just delusional.

"Ruby, what should I do? You're my best friend, you know better than anyone what is best." Aah, now that felt good. The sheer desperation in his eyes, he was dependant on me, see, we belong together. Dear Lord, what have I become? Thriving on the poor facial expressions of lovesick men that come to me for help? That can't be healthy.

But what did I want him to do? He obviously has no interest in me whatsoever, so I can't say anything about that. I want him to ask, because he will be happier because of it, but then there is a risk that first, he will go out with her, and I'll either have to look at them being happy, breathing happily, infecting us all with their bucket-loads of happy, and me being pushed out of the whole picture, or her brutally rejecting him, and his poor face falling, and his mood and self-esteem ruined for the rest of his life. Then he would never confess his love for me. But then, I didn't want to tell him not to do anything, because that sounds unsupportive and I'm supposed to be helping. Oh!

"I think you should follow your heart. Do whatever you think is right." Bloody hell, that sounded cheesy, who even says that? Nobody says that.

A grin spread across his face so beautiful my heart skipped a beat. Stop.

"You're right! Thanks, Ruby, you always know what to say!" Somehow, that isn't comforting the fact that I'm shooing you off to go and be happy with a...with a bitch. Have a nice life. Include me in your will, I want your clothes.

I force out a smile, praying that it hides the pain. Tears well up, but I push them back. No. You will not cry. "You're welcome, any time."

And so, he left, motivated and determined to ask the Ice Queen to dinner. In a way, I was pleased that I had come to good use to Aiden, and made him happy, although maybe not in the way that I had always wanted to. But, with any luck, she'll reject him, and I'll be the shoulder to cry on.

What sort of a friend am I? Wishing that my best friend is hurt?

It was here that I realised how cowardly I was being. Aiden came over, lovesick, trying to work out how to resolve the issues, and I sent him to go try his hand at making her his own. And yet, here I am, in love with him, trying to work out what to do. Maybe I should have a taste of my own medicine. But where is my person, pushing me to 'follow my heart'?

Later that evening, I curled up in bed, and there, on my shoulders, the angel and devil appeared. Of course they did, they never leave me alone. Do they not have other people to torment?

"Go for it, girl. Nothing should stand in your way of getting what you want, besides, he's a catch." The angel whispered. She was right, I shouldn't let fear of rejection stop me, I should cross that bridge when I came to it. I'd always liked Angel. She said what I wanted to hear. But of course, not everybody had finished speaking:

"Are you insane? If the stupid boy has eyes only for the prettiest girls that are way out of his league, can you imagine the horror when you like him? This April girl only really has looks, so clearly he isn't looking for personality. Your choices are: become a member of that dance group they all go to, which let's face it, is just as an excuse to wear tight tops, and win him that way. By putting on an act. Or you can move on, you don't need him. Women don't need men to conquer the world."

As much as I didn't want to listen, or believe it, the little devil did speak some sense. She always did. If it really is true love, then, he would feel it too, but considering his whole brain is directed towards perfect haired, flawless shop mannequins, I have no hope in hell, and should focus on studies, and being a success in the career world, and tackle the family thing later. Sure, I could become one of those strong, independent women.

After all, happily ever after is so over-rated, right?

A.N: Like I said, criticism is welcomed. Thank you for reading!