Young God [GirlxGirl]

2. Lonely Hearts Club

You've been struggling to make things right // That's how a Superhero learns to fly // Every day, every hour // Turn the pain into power // Superheroes, The Script

Violet Monroe led two lives.

The first life was the considerably more ordinary and ultimately less appealing of the two. In this life, she was the lonely American girl who started college a year later than everybody else because her parents died when she should have been sending out her applications. In this life, she was the girl who had to move from New Jersey to London and leave all her friends behind so that she could live with her vastly unprepared older brother, Liam. In this life, Violet was invisible. The only other person, save for Liam, who ever acknowledged her existence was Violet's closest friend: Blake.

Violet befriended Blake accidentally, after walking in on her crying hysterically in the ladies' room a few weeks after starting college. Violet very nearly turned around and walked away, but she looked like she needed somebody, and Violet knew what that felt like. So after calming Blake down somewhat, she soon found out the major cause of her breakdown: a boy. This, you should know, was not exactly an area of expertise for Violet. However, she stood there and let Blake rant to her about this boy and the awful thing he had done until she was all cried out, and then she earned a quick hug and a thank-you and that was that - or so Violet assumed.

But the next day, when Blake spotted Violet heading to Lunch, she approached her and started chatting to her as though they had known each other for years. Violet was confused, to say the least, but she didn't protest. In fact, she kind of enjoyed the company. Not many people had paid much attention to her since she had enrolled, so it made a nice change. Even a year on, Violet still remembered that conversation vividly.

"You're pretty quiet, aren't you?" Blake had asked, mid-way through telling a riveting story about her morning hair and make-up ritual.

Violet had shrugged. "I prefer to listen." That was partly true, but the main reason she had been hesitant about opening up was because she was afraid that if she did, Blake wouldn't like her, or she'd find out what a mess she was. And then she would be completely alone again.

"And that," Blake had replied with a smile. "Is why you'll make an excellent friend."

Despite Violet's reservations about her new-found friendship, it actually worked out surprisingly well. It should be noted that Violet and Blake's personalities were a stark contrast to one another, but she suspected that that might have been part of the reason their bond was so strong. Violet often had her head in the clouds, and had a habit of drifting far away from reality if left to herself for too long. But Blake was a realist; a pragmatist, and she kept Violet grounded. Conversely, Violet inspired Blake to dream bigger than just following in the footsteps of her parents, who pretty much had Blake's entire life planned out for her - right down to the flowers at her funeral.

And while sometimes Blake's capacity to talk for hours about mundane things Violet had no interest in annoyed her, in the same way Violet's aloof aura and tendency to zone out when she should be listening to her friend annoyed Blake, they grew to love each other like sisters.

But even Blake, who shared everything with Violet and who assumed Violet shared everything with her, didn't know about Violet's second life. Before divulging the secrets of this secondary life, it is important to know a little more about Violet's home situation. As mentioned previously, her parents had died just over a year before - the result of a reckless drunk's decision to drive home - and this meant that she had been forced to relocate to London to live with her twenty two year old brother.

Liam was fresh out of university, and had been struggling to keep up with the rent it took to keep living in his flat even before Violet's arrival. See, Liam was an aspiring artist, but while he waited patiently for his art to gain recognition, he had to make do with being a receptionist at a central tattoo parlour. While he didn't hate his job, it was torture for him to watch other artists doing what they loved day in day out, while he booked appointments and answered the phone. Not to mention the fact that the pay was less than desirable, especially now that he had a little sister to be taking care of.