#yeah my girl was hated for breathing by the same people thirsting over the mass murder antagonist

[tategaminu]

[depressoespressos-posts]

Chapter One

Los Angeles, what a beautiful place. Or from what I've seen staring out of an airplane window, looking down upon the world. We were coming in to land, our final destination of our world exploration.

  I'm in a group called C.T.R(M.L.W.I), we are YouTubers that do crazy, life threatening shit for our viewers entertainment. Jumping out of planes, off of cliffs, exploring demolished and demonic buildings... That's just a quarter of what we do. If you are wondering what our name stands for, here it it;

Change The Rules (Make Life Worth It)

We normally just go by 'C.T.R', its shorter and easier to say, more efficient as well.

Previously, we had explored most of the world, places that no one even thought of looking. Places that no one thought existed. Filmed, caught everything on camera and uploaded when we could. Our last stop was America, which is weird as many people would normally start there. Not us. We started in Australia, which is apparently my home country, even though, I was born and raised in England. I'll explain that story later on.

We are a group of five. Two boys, Conor Reynolds and Toby Schmidt. Three girls,  Annalise Standoff, Christina Thorne and Me, Octavia Olila. I sound Spanish, but I'm quarter Italian.

We are all incredibly distinctive to the eye, a mixed group with tons of different features.

Conor was a brunette with faux blonde highlights that were put in when we were in Egypt; he has very light blue eyes and catches a tan very easily.

Toby was a dyed black haired, tall guy; he had light brown eyes that often clashed with his natural hair (somehow) so he dyed it before we started our tour. He was pale and very into the colour black, so he looked like Slenderman with a face.

Annalise was mixed-race, sort of a milky coffee colour, or a caramel frappé you'd get from Starbucks; she had big, beautiful brown eyes that she emphasised with every chance she could; as well as long luscious brown hair that fell past the small of her back.

Christina was also mixed-race but a little darker then Annalise, more like a milk chocolate colour; her eyes were also brown but were so dark that could be mistaken by black. The same with her hair as it was semi-curly, yet straight and wavy all at the same time. I don't know how it works either.

And then you have me. Green eyes; brunette with hints of blonde and ginger, pale as fuck.

Distinctive, yes. Gorgeous, no. Well, I speak for myself, the others are much more... pretty.

None of C.T.R have found their 'soul mates' yet. We have travelled all over the world, potentially, and none of my friends have found their 'Perfect Partner', which could mean either whoever they are supposed to be with was in England or America. But, that also means, so is mine.

C.T.R has a huge fan base, we have thousands of subscribers all over the world and during the tour we met so many. It wasn't really a tour actually, just a mass exploration of the world. We just happened to meet our fan base.

And our fandom like to make accusations.

Conor and I are the favourites to be shipped together as he is my male best friend that I love, but that doesn't stop the theories about Toby and I either. Constantly asked if we were 'soul mates', many times Conor, Toby and I had to shut down their ideas and show off our unfaded, tattoos. Also, inflicting in millions of our fans trying to copy our first words to convince us that we are their  soulmates, failing once we read what theirs said which is nothing like what came out of our mouths.

It wasn't like I was particularly desirable, I honestly feel sorry for the person who is actually made to be with me. I'm exasperating to be around, not to mention snappy and easily agitated. As well as my unattainable thirst for adventure, danger and exploration. My 'soul mate' has to be down with what I do because I'm not stopping for anything nor anyone.

What sort of life is this? Being stapled to one person your entire life and before you meet them, you're just waiting for them to waltz into your world and change it. I don't want this. I don't want one person to completely shift my entire life line, for better or for worse. I want to be me. My own person, belong to myself. Not being worried about someone other the myself or my friends, someone I had never met...

My thoughts trailed off as I felt a strong hand gripping my shoulders. Suddenly, everything I was just reminiscing fled from my mind. The bustling sound of about three hundred people making their way off of the plane returned to me. Shouting as a child left a toy a few seats back, laughing as a group of friends made a remark on how orange the hostess was. The hand on my shoulder shocked all feeling through my body, like before this exchange, I was paralyzed. My head snapped to the hand, Conor stood over me with a slight worried glint flashing in his blue eyes as my eyes wandered up to his. A small smile on his lips as he hovered over me.

"You okay?"

His voice was soft yet gruff as he must've just woken up. I nodded slowly, my eyebrows furrowing; was I actually out for that long?

"Did I fall asleep?"

I asked him. Conor gave a small chuckle whilst shaking his head at me.

"No, you didn't"

His laughs carried throughout the aircraft, people turning around in their velvet blue seats, patiently waiting for others to depart. I made an 'O' shape with my mouth. So lost in thought that I didn't realise what was happening around me. Conor laid his hand out in front of me, anchoring for me to take it. I slipped my fingers in-between his, still a bit dazed as I shake back to life. I glanced around me, seeing no one as I dragged my small blue and white suitcase from the over-head holder.

"Conor, where are the other three?"

I asked. Conor glanced around him, his eyes raving over the entire inside of the aircraft before shrugging. I rolled my eyes, so much help. I felt the weight of my stuff as it fell to the floor, creating a loud bang.

"Watch it!"

Conor shouted. I raised my eyebrow and placed my hands on my hip, my other hand still connected to my case.

"I'm sorry. It wouldn't be so heavy if you hadn't stuffed my suitcase wth your shit, we wouldn't have this a problem"

I growled at him playfully, lifting the suitcase up a bit then slamming it back into the floor. He gritted his teeth and just as I was about to slam it back into the floor, Conor ripped it from my hand. Turning away, he carried his and now, my luggage through the plane to the back exit. I chucked in silence behind him.

"Thank you, Con."

I smirked, walking off the plane before he could even get a chance. I could feel his glare burning into the back of my head as I skipped down the stairs, hands free of luggage while he struggled to take steps.

The heat caught me a little off guard, not expecting what LA presented in weather. The sun beating down, catching hold of every piece of metal and shining off of it to burn into my eyes. I placed my hand to hover over them as I watched Conor struggle down the steps. Laughing at the cautious steps he took, I began to pester his movements.

"Come on, Con, we did more then this on tour"

I shouted up at him, he gave a glare whilst stopping half-way down the stairs.

"Yeah but I'd rather not die before I finish it"

He called back. Conor wiped the sweat from his brow, the heat getting to him too.

"You jumped off of the coast of the Caribbean in shark infested waters, I think you can make it down a set of airplane stairs"

I laughed at his scolding eyes, it feels good to finally get back at him. All tour, all he has done is tease and annoy me. But he's my best friend, so I have to deal with it.

Conor gave a loud, sarky laugh and continued to hesitantly step down the stairs as the hostesses began to shoo him away from the aircraft for them to clean it. I literally just stood and watched, it was highly amusing. Giggling all the while he got prodded to move faster as I watched from afar. He got four-quarters of the way down when I called him.

"Conor"

I yelled. He dropped the bags next to him on the stairs, sitting on the one just above his feet. He looked exhausted, his suitcase was far heavier then mine.

"Yeah"

He breathed back, practically panting as he laid back, not meeting my eyes. His bronde hair was sticking to his beet-red forehead. All this trouble because of a set of stairs. I glanced down at the silver watch that I held around my wrist, seeing that we had literally doing this for ten minutes.

"I'm gonna go to meet the others"

I shouted. Conor's head perked up, shaking it violently as he grasped hold of the handles of the bags, still sitting down.

"No you're not"

He shouted back. I placed one hand behind my ear.

"What?"

I yelled back, obviously hearing what he said and just doing this to piss him off further.

"Oct"

His warning tone shot through to my ears. I began to walk away, gesturing to my left ear.

"I'm sorry, I can't hear you. I'm gonna go and see the others"

I smirked, turning on my feet.

"Octavia"

His yells were lost as I took off running into the actual airport. The faint call of my name dispersing as I strolled through the building.

I'm a bitch. I caught sight of the back of Toby's head by the luggage check, he was sitting down with Christina and Annalise. Toby was about six-foot tall and very lanky, it's hard not to miss him. I smiled softly at the sight of them all conversing. You see, Christina hated Toby when they first met, they literally clashed in everyway. Until I locked them out on the roof at a hotel we were staying in in India. They had a very heartfelt conversation and finally made amends between them, leaving a very close friendship. Annalise was just friends with everyone in the group, but she was no doubt my best female friend, we clicked as soon as we met, having the same sense of humour; dark, crude and a little... never mind. I strolled over to the small group gathering, without Conor. All three instantly looked for him though. Wherever I was, Conor was. I plopped myself next to Annalise, my hand instantly conjoining with hers. That's another ship, Anna and I. Because we are so close, many viewers assume that we are lesbian. Nope, not true at all. We've just been very good friends for a very long time, so we're going to be comfortable around each other. But we are very comfortable with Chris as well, at one point the whole if our fan base thought that Anna, Chris and I had three-way relationship. Absolutely not true, we are all straight... As far as I know that is. I slipped my fingers around hers, we haven't really spoken in about four hours, that is a very long time for us. I gave her a sincere smile, flashing the entire present group a happy grin. Toby leaned forward and tapped my knee just as I was about to start conversing with Anna. I snapped my head towards him, humming in acceptance of him asking his question.

"Where's Conor and your case?"

Toby smirked, knowing that it was something that I did. I began to giggle.

"Well... you see..."

I started, only to be cut off by a loud scream of my name. I shot out of my seat, seeing Conor red and heavy breathing coming towards me. Fuck  I'm in trouble. He swerved in and out of the hundreds of rushing people, as I fled through the airport.

"OCTAVIA"

Conor shouted as I escaped into the crowds. Breathing heavily and heart racing with tons of adrenaline rushing through my veins at the fear of him catching me. I could literally hear the blood rushing past my ears. Once I thought I was safe, I leaned and slid down a wall into a slumped position on the floor. Probably covered in dirt and In need of a proper disinfection, I just sat there, catching my breath. I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply, only to open them about three seconds later to see angry, dilated baby-blues glaring down at me. Conor reached for my sides and I began to panic.

"No, Conor. Please! I'm sorry"

I begged for forgiveness, his smile growing wider as his finger tips lightly scraped against my sides. I let out a small yelp of laughter before shaking my head at the guy in front of me.

"Please, no!"

I yelled again. His hands roughly danced over my sides continuously, earning loud and repetitive shouts of screaming laughter as he tickled me. I'm literally ticklish every where. I begged over and over to be set free, he just continued to torture me. Many people had began to stare at us, wide-eyed and in shock.

"Conor, stop raping Octavia!"

Came Christina's voice through the noise. At that moment, literally the entire airport was staring at us as Conor ripped his hands from my sides and stood as far away as possible. That was inappropriate. Conor glared at the girl as he walked towards them, leaving me behind. Tugging hold of his and I's luggage and dragging them away from the staring crowds. I joined to the group of the other three, lightly whacking Christina on the back of her head.

"What was that for?"

She yelled, rubbing over the spot.

"Watch what you say, you could've gotten Conor in a lot of trouble"

I hissed, Christina covered her mouth, finally understanding the problem that she had caused. I sighed underneath my breath.

All throughout the terminal, our entire group had received some funny looks as well as dirty ones. Chris, Toby and Anna were shooting them back whilst Conor and I refused to meet anyone's eye. I picked up a few snacks as well as some drink. The woman behind the counter shot me a sympathetic look whilst I just rolled my eyes. For fuck sake. Unfortunately, Christina can not help it. She always says inappropriate comments at inappropriate times. We call it 'Verbal Diarrhoea', but I have it to, so we get in as much trouble as each other. I grasped my cold coffee between my fingers and stormed out of the terminal, not bearing to have someone send a dirty look at Conor or a sympathetic one at me.

Although coming to LA, we do not actually have a hotel booked, well we do but only for one night. One of the most haunted Hotel's in America, and we managed to grasp the ninth floor. Basically, my dad has a holiday apartment out here, it's about the fifteenth storey up with a balcony. Beautiful at night from what I've seen in pictures. My dad is coming with the car, this is going to be illegal but Conor is going to drive us to the apartment without an actual drivers licence or experience on the left side of the road. We asked Toby, as he was seventeen and actually has his license, but he moaned for about thirty minutes straight about being tired. I cannot deal with that from him today. So, we forced the second oldest, Conor to do it. He'll be fine. We'd probably die but you know, we good.

I stood out by the exit for the terminal, arms crossed and still free of luggage, sipping on my coffee. I haven't slept at all for about two days. I didn't sleep the night before the journey as I went exploring this little house that I discovered not far away from our hotel. I didn't sleep on the plane because I was excited. Yet, I'm wide awake. I don't feel tired. But that might be about the seven cups of coffee that I have consumed from being on the plane. I'm not sure if coffee makes me hyper or just awake. I cannot tell.

The rush of the cool liquid between my lips as I swallowed it down, my eyes just darting to stare at everyone and everything. Sometimes I find myself wondering what is happening in other peoples lives. Like that women with a red bag, proper drag make up, screaming down the phone at someone. I'm not close enough to hear her words, but It's a pretty heated discussion. From her facial expression, she's angry yet highly upset. What is happening?

I heard a loud honk of a horn and I was brought from my little reminisce, only then I realised the woman staring straight at me, scowling more then before. Another loud honk, drawing my attention to vehicle, screaming through the airport. A beautiful silver Range Rover was parked literally just outside of the back doors. Only one piece of luggage of ours was sent under the plane and that was Annalise's, she had more stuff then all of us. But she bought for other people too. The Range Rover shined in the LA sun as a tinted window rolled down to expose, the one and only, my father.