Emelia was watching her new-born sleep when the stairs began croaking loudly under someone's weight.

"Richard?" She rose from the couch, "Where are you going?"

Her boyfriend and father of her daughter stood near the front door, big suitcase in hand.

"I'm not ready to be a father," He stated firmly.

Anger rose within her, "You should've thought about that when you fucked me without protection!"

"I'm leaving."

She froze, "W-what?"

"I'm leaving and I'm not coming back."

Now panicking, she quickly took a few steps closer to him. "You can't just quit being a father, she's your responsibility too!"

"I can, and I will." He glared at her.

Her eyes began welling up with tears, "I thought you loved me, us."

Pinching the bridge if his nose, he sighed in irritation. "You know I don't, stop lying to yourself. I only stuck around for the kid, but I just can't do it."

A hysteric sob left her lips, "You can't even say your daughter's name."

He ignored her and made way for the front door.

In a frantic attempt to stop him from abandoning them, she grabbed a tight hold onto his arm.

"Let go of me. Now." His voice was eerily calm.

"She's four days old, Richard, please don't leave us." Emelia begged. "You know my parents are no help, they broke all contact the minute they heard I was pregnant. And I can't do this on my own."

Without showing any compassion, he ripped his arm loose from her hold and stormed out the door.

Dropping to her knees, Emelia cried and cried and cried, her whole body shaking. Not able to stop them from coming. Needing the comfort, she eventually stood up and stumbled over to where little Moira was sleeping. She carefully picked her up, and cuddled her to her chest.

"It's just you and me now." She sniffed.

Moira sat at the small dinner table, dressed in her prettiest dress and with a birthday hat placed on her head. Her mother had decorated both the living room and kitchen with balloons and streamers, to make it look extra festive. The birthday cake was placed on the table with 8 candles on top of it, the plates and cutlery already set.

She was waiting for the few kids she had invited to her party. They were supposed to be here half an hour ago yet no one had arrived; did she pass on the wrong time, the wrong address?

Her orbs burned with unshed tears at the thought of no one anticipating her party. And for the first time in her short life, she felt disappointed beyond belief.

Seeing the broken look in her daughter's eyes, Emelia crouched down beside her and wrapped an arm around her frail shoulders, kissing her forehead.

"They'll come, darling," She assured her.

A lonely tear slid down Moira's cheek, "But what if they won't?"

"Then we'll have a party of our own!" Her mother told her.

She shook her head in defeat, "There's too much cake, mom."

Emelia's heart was ripped in two at her little girl's words. Not knowing what to say to brighten the situation, she sighed sadly.

"Don't worry, they're probably just a little late."

But as the hours passed, nobody showed up.

It was official, they were Juniors now. Moira and Cooper were more excited than ever.

They were joined at the hip, best friends, though complete opposites. Like salt and pepper.

Cooper, being the social butterfly that he was, looked forward to making new friends. While the shy Moira longed for a new start, somewhere nobody called her names behind her back or made her feel stamped on, somewhere she didn't need Cooper to constantly protect her from harm's way.

As weeks passed, however, Cooper began distancing himself from Moira. Until eventually, he completely ignored her existence. His behaviour was very sudden, and she didn't understand his intentions. In the end, it was the longing to be popular that made him throw away their friendship of three years.

One day, the teacher was calling names, nothing whether the students were present or not.

"Moira James?"

Moira raised her hand. "Umm Miss?"

"Yes?"

"It's Moira King now."

"You changed your surname?" The teacher questioned monotonously. "And why's that?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but someone else beat her to it.

"Because daddy wanted his surname back, right Moira?" Her former best friend's lips spread into a curled, lopsided smirk, the dangerous glint registering in his eyes as he gazed predatorily at her.

All of her classmates burst out laughing, and the teacher did nothing to stop them, making the humiliation even worse. And as Moira was having trouble not bursting out in tears in the middle of class, she couldn't help but feel completely and utterly betrayed.

"I hate you, Cooper." She said firmly, though her voice was quiet. she let her words linger awkwardly in the air. A foreign emotion crossed his face, but it was gone by the time she managed to detect what it was; guilt. Before she could face anymore embarrassment, she began making her way out of the classroom, with the teacher still screaming for her to come back.

She'd never expected this from him, not from her Cooper. But he'd proved her otherwise. And it terrified her, how everyone seemed to eventually leave her. As if her mere presence was intolerable.

Moira and Alice were on their way to second period when Moira was harshly shoved out of the way. Her shoulder connected with a locker, pain striking her instantly.

"Move, you fucking retard." A harsh voice demanded, giving her another push.

Sadness washed over her in tidal waves as she stared at the person; she missed the old him.

He came to a dead halt, "The fuck you looking at?"

Shrinking back, she stuttered, "I-I-I.. n-nothing."

"That's what I thought."

He who had once protected her from all the bullies, was now the one bullying her. Her old best friend had changed, and not for the better.

To be popular at their school, you'd either have to be rich, good looking or mean. And these days, Cooper was all three of them. The minute he realized he only possessed two of the qualities -when they were 13- he switched. Changing into a completely different person, as if it was nothing. Being popular had its price, and he had no problem paying for it. Moira clearly didn't belong in his picture perfect, as he'd dropped his best friend of four years instantly once he was welcomed into the school's #1 clique.

"Ignore him, M. He's not worth it." Alice reassured her quietly, so that Cooper -who was still close by- wouldn't hear her.

"It's fine," Moira said in reply, even though they could both detect the lie in her answer.

"I got it!" Moira announced enthusiastically as soon as she opened the front door of the small apartment she shared with her boyfriend. Seeing Derek sitting on the couch, watching a movie. He was dressed in dark sweats and a simple muscle shirt. His dark eyes were focused entirely on the TV, a lit cigarette hanging limply from his mouth. God, she hated the odour that hung around the apartment because of his nasty addiction.

"I got the job!"

"What?" He said, sounding bored.

She set her purse down on one of the end tables near the couch, letting out an aggravated sigh as I sank down in the recliner. She was rubbing her temples, the excitement taking its toll on her head.

"Starck & Co. hired me, I'm an official interior designer now." Her lips spread into a proud smile.

Muting the TV, he exhaled deeply; smoke swirling around his head. Derek turned to her abruptly. "What the fuck?" He sneered, suddenly standing up, "Who's going to clean the apartment now, or cook? Women aren't supposed to work. Your fucking place is here, at home."

She was aware of his anger problems, and though he'd never physically hurt her, it wasn't the first time he objectified her gender. His priorities and thoughts on situations were very old fashioned, occasionally offending her with his words.

"This is my dream job," She settled back further into the seat, pulling her legs up against her chest, "I've gone to college for this, you know that."

Derek reached over to his right to douse the cigarette in the container sitting on the table. He flipped his hair out of his eye and sat back down, scooting next to his girlfriend, pulling her up against him, his arm wrapping around her. Moira's face winced a little; Derek used to have a musky scent-now he smelled like cigarettes and...did she smell beer also?

"Don't be ridiculous, doll."

"What do you mean?" She mumbled quietly, struggling to contain her emotions, which were bubbling up inside of her. She had expected him to be proud of her -his independent girlfriend-, not disappointed. "Why not?"

"Why not?!" He repeated her words, chuckling humourlessly. "You're only good for cleaning, cooking and sex."

Her heart skipped a beat, and she felt stunned at the disgust read through the way he spat the sentence. "Why are you acting like this?" She wondered aloud, feeling awfully hurt. "Why aren't you happy for me? You love me right?"

He kept his mouth shut, not answering her question.

She cleared her throat, unsure of how he'd react. "Derek?"

"I don't love you, not anymore." He replied slowly, his eyes never leaving her.

Her heart broke into a million little pieces.

Trying to swallow the lump in her throat, she croaked "I suppose there's only one thing left to do then."

Standing up, she made her way to their bedroom and started packing her things with tears slipping down her face. Derek wasn't a good man, but he was her man. Or at least he used to be.

She was hoping he would try and stop her, apologize and drop to his knees; begging her for forgiveness. But he didn't, so she moved out of the apartment that same evening. And never contacted her ex-boyfriend again.

****

As time passed, Moira built a wall around herself. Tougher than diamonds, taller than any building and so well isolated that no coldness was able to creep inside.

She had it all planned out, her job, her home, her pregnancy and no more untrustworthy men.

After she left Derek, everything started working according to plan. That was, until a curly-haired rockstar came along and messed it all up.