Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII is property of Square Enix. The song "Where Will You Go" is property of the band Evanescence.

Betareader: Angel of Enigma

Warnings: Yaoi (boy love with the pairings Seifer x Squall), language, non-con (rape), self-abuse, angst, violence, fluff, AU (Alternate Universe).

I first posted this on www.fanfiction.net but decided to host it here as well, since ff-net seems to go rather trigger-happy on its "Delete Story" button these days *growls*. Thus far, the story shouldn't really be rated R (I think ^_^), but better be safe than sorry I guess.

I recently found some Evanescence songs that had thus far been unknown to me, and I was almost disturbed at how much "Where Will You Go" reflected the ideas I had for this fic. Hence, I decided to "adopt" it. I hope you'll enjoy it.

Whispered Screams

Chapter One - High and Low


By Angry Angel

You're too important for anyone
You play the role of all you long to be
But I, I know who you really are
You're the one who cries when you're alone...

But where will you go?
With no one left to save you from yourself
You can't escape
You can't escape

You think that I can't see right through your eyes
Scared to death to face reality
No one seems to hear your hidden cries
You're left to face yourself alone

But where will you go?
With no one left to save you from yourself
You can't escape the truth

I realize you're afraid
But you can't abandon everyone
You can't escape
You don't want to escape

I'm so sick of speaking words that no one understands
Is it clear enough that you can't live your whole life all alone?
I can hear you in a whisper
But you can't even hear me screaming...

Where will you go?
With no one left to save you from yourself
You can't escape the truth

I realize you're afraid
But you can't reject the whole world
You can't escape
You won't escape
You can't escape
You don't want to escape...

-- "Where Will You Go?" by Evanescence


"Gawd, I'm gonna be late... like so fucking late!"

Hurling his school bags onto the back of his red pickup truck, a tall blonde who generally heeded to the name Seifer Almasy was cursing violently in distress. He didn't care whether or not his temper would wake the folks in his nice suburban neighborhood at this ungodly hour on a Tuesday morning; he had far more important things to worry about. This was the first day of school after summer break, more so, his very first day at Deling City High - and he was going to be late.

He had moved to this town mere weeks ago and spent most of his vacation setting up his small apartment and getting acquainted with his new "home", or so to say. Really, home was about a three hour drive away, in Balamb City where his parents lived, but for reasons that he usually hated to elaborate on he was now stuck in this place - alone.

To top it all off, he had been forced to change schools before the beginning of his senior year, which would most likely result in his grades dropping yet another notch. Not that they had actually needed a shove down the grade curve - they had been steadily descending all on their own.

Well, one way or another, he had little more than fifteen minutes to get his ass into gear and somehow into his math class without the crucial knowledge of where said class was even held at.

Yep, things sure weren't looking good for the home team, thank you very much.

As Seifer leaped into the driver seat of his brand new truck and slammed the door shut behind himself, he could almost hear the soft voice of his mother in his ears, tiring him with well-meant pieces of advice that he never actually bothered to follow, anyway.

"Have you checked with your counsellor yet? Have you figured out all the places you need to go? Have you talked to the football coach about your missed summer practise? Have you made any friends yet? Are you sure you don't need anything else, honey? And please don't forget what Dad and I told you about... you know."

Mothers sure could be annoying with their smothering demonstrations of love and care. It was kinda funny, too - in a dumb, frustrating kind of way. Apparently, his mother thought that his bisexuality (she hated to voice the term) caused permanent stupidity and immaturity. She thought that he had no clue whatsoever of how to take care of himself. But hey, he was almost nineteen years old after all, and he could take care of himself alright. When ever would she understand that?

Sighing, Seifer flipped his car key in the lock and started the engine. He'd have to hurry and take the freeway or something if he held any notion of even attempting to make it to class in time - and he did, surprising as it was.

Dawn was already tainting the greyish skies with bright hues of pink, but luckily traffic wasn't bustling just yet. Seifer was able to pull onto the road and head towards school, which was located at the other end of town, without passing much more than the occasional delivery truck and other, fellow early birds that were headed to class or wherever.

Still yawning a little dozily, Seifer cast a bored glance into his rear view mirror, checking out his own reflection. Gazing back at him was the clean-cut, angular face of a very tanned high school senior, his looks all the while dominated by a pair of strident jade green eyes. He was a handsome young man; a jock, tall and athletic built, a great football player that was extremely popular with the girls - and he was fully aware of it, too. He wasn't exactly a high honor roll student, but it wasn't like he carried any aspirations for geniusdom or a career in medicine, as much as his parents would have rejoiced.

No, Seifer was a natural born athlete. He played football, baseball and basketball, and he was also an avid track runner. He was a guy who knew well of his weaknesses and strengths, though he usually tended to underrate the first and overrate the latter.

But hey, what gives?

Just as he was tapping the steering wheel in boredom and humming along the bland tune of a local rock station, a flash of black in his left side mirror caught Seifer's attention. Irritated, he glanced out of the window and onto the street that was slightly slicked with rain from the night. He almost reeled backwards, totally staggered by a motorcyclist flying by his left side at neckbreaking speed.

Seifer arched an eyebrow.

"What the fuck?"

As the biker pulled in before him, his break lights hardly flashing, Seifer frowned darkly. He hated to be passed, particularly so if he was already going way faster than the speed limit permitted. What the fuck was that guy thinking? Granted that he was thinking at all...

"... I think you deserve a lesson, biker boy."

A mischievous grin curling his features, Seifer quickly changed gears and mashed his foot down upon the accelerator. He had always despised motorcyclists - they didn't fit his attitude. Usually they'd try to mess with him, and he'd mess right back.

Today was no exception.

He was closing in on the biker fast, and he didn't even bother to set his turn signal as he swerved into the passing lane. Smirking, he whipped his head to his right as he was about leveled with the motorcycle. The guy on the bike was wearing faded blue jeans and heavy boots, a black leather jacket and an equally black helmet. They matched the color of his ride. The book bag he had strapped onto his back kinda made Seifer wonder; this was quite possibly a fellow student of Deling City High.

All the more reason to leave a lasting impression.

Inevitably, the biker turned to face him, and Seifer thought that he could feel the guy's irritation simmering off of him even through his reflective visor.

Ah - Bikers. It was simply too much fun fucking with their minds.

Giving a smug wave and a thumbs-down, Seifer floored his gas pedal and took off. Glancing into his rear view mirror, he could see the biker following him with his eyes. Sneering and leaning back in his seat, the blonde returned to the right lane, and he couldn't deny that he felt pretty damn good about himself.

That was until he heard a powerful exhaust howling to his left.

He turned around, slowly almost, disbelief etched caustically into his angular features. Though he was going fast enough to justify the loss of his license if a cop was just lucky enough to spot him, sure enough his jade green eyes were set yet again upon the guy on his black Honda.

Seifer gave a low grunt.


To make matters worse, the biker flicked up his gloved hand and flipped Seifer the bird. He continued to hold his middle finger up like that, ensuring that the blonde had seen it up nice and close, before he curled his hand back around his handlebar and cut in front of Seifer's truck the very moment that their lanes merged.

A hissing sound escaped the blonde's lips, and he was rendered speechless for the length of a moment.

"Little fucking bitch!!"

He slammed his hands down upon the steering wheel in frustration, and he could feel his stomach coiling with anger. They were hitting the suburbs again, and just like the biker, Seifer inevitably had to adjust his speed. They were close to the school, and there would obviously not be another chance to pass the guy on the motorcycle and slap him back into place.

This was a clear-cut loss, and one thing was for certain - Seifer Almasy was a sore loser.

He followed the Honda further down the road and to the broad complex of Deling City High School. They passed track and tennis courts, a football stadium and an outdoors pool until the biker finally pulled into a parking lot that was already whirring with cars and students. Seifer tailed after the guy closely, not letting him out of sight. As soon as the Honda had stopped in a vacant parking space, away from the main crowd, Seifer slammed on his brakes and pulled in as well, blocking the biker off.

Impulse and a very short temper drove the blonde to leap out of his truck and bang his door shut violently. Meanwhile, the Honda owner had dismounted his bike and stood with his back turned on Seifer. He seemed to be a few inches shorter than the eighteen year old and quite more delicate in his build, but said fact didn't quench even a hint of Seifer's anger. The blonde had barely opened his mouth to commence yelling and smacking that kid around, when the biker slowly removed his helmet and turned around.

Straight, chocolate brown hair that was slightly longish fell out of the helmet's confinement and into a pale, finely featured face with casual elegance. Eyes that were shifting hues from blue to grey glared at Seifer from behind thick lashes of black, and thin brows were laced together in the genesis of one of the most venomous frowns that Seifer had ever come across. The blonde had to blink once or twice, fighting the urge to drop his jaw and his anger. He wasn't easily impressed by fine looks, but this guy was fucking hot stuff if he'd ever seen any.

'God, don't even THINK about it, Almasy.'

He swallowed hard, desperately trying to grind up his aggression that seemed to have evaporated. Luckily, the dark haired biker eased Seifer's way back into furiosity.

"Can't find your own parking spot?" the brunette hissed softly, his voice clear but tainted with sarcasm that was sharper than razor blades.

Seifer's anger returned almost instantly.

"No, I figured I'd take your's and beat your skinny ass in one go," he snarled. "Fucking prick."

"I'd like to see you try," the brunette responded coolly, one of his eyebrows twitching daringly.

"No problem, I'll be happy to deliver."

"If that'll fix your hurt pride."

"You little piece of--"


Seifer swiveled around at the sound of someone clearing their throat behind him. He hated to be interrupted, and he had been rather unaware of students stopping around them to watch the scene. One of those bystanders turned out to be the guy with the rasp throat, and he had placed himself right behind the blonde.

Annoyed, Seifer gave the youth a curt look-over. He was about his height, slender, with long auburn colored hair and fascinating amethyst eyes. He was good-looking, though not necessarily Seifer's type, which might be to blame on the fact that the guy was wearing a cowboy hat of all things. It didn't even look too bad with his white t-shirt and tight-fitting blue jeans, but Seifer had no nerve for such quirks.

Crossing his arms before his broad chest, he slit his eyes and crushed his lips to a thin line.

"What?" he snapped, his snide voice holding a note of warning.

The cowboy grinned lopsidedly, and he tipped his head in greeting.

"Seifer Almasy," he said, mock drama evident in the way he pronounced the blonde's name, "Meet Squall Leonhart."

He had pointed at someone behind Seifer, and as the blonde threw a half-glance at the biker from across his shoulder, he understood who this Squall Leonhart person was supposed to be.

"Whatever," the brunette bit, tightening his hold around his helmet.

Before Seifer could have said anything, the guy called Squall had pivoted on the spot and walked off in the direction of the school building, leaving his bike somewhere between the curb and Seifer's truck.

"What the fuck..." Seifer found himself mumbling under his breath.

"Oh, don't mind him," the cowboy said blithely, waving one hand in a dismissive gesture. "He's a lil on the, eh, antisocial side, you see."

"And who are you anyway?" the blonde snarled.

"Oh. Irvine Kinneas. Pleased to meet ya, and all."

"How did you know my name?"

"Your Varsity jacket."

Indeed, the red and white football jacket from his old team that Seifer was wearing had been embellished with his last name. Still, that didn't explain---

"Our track coach told us about you last practice," Irvine continued, before Seifer could have asked about the revelation of his first name. "I spotted ya jacket and thought I'd say hi."


"Well, that and I figured I better keep ya from socking our ice princess."

"Ice princess?"


"What ya call him ice princess for?" Seifer inquired curiously, not quite sure how to place that nickname.

It sounded like something he would make up.

"Oh, you'll see," Irvine replied with a cryptic, wry grin. "Hey, we better get going, class is about to start."


Seifer fished for his bag, retrieving it from the back of his truck. He studied his vehicle's position for a moment. The parking job was horrible, but at least he was somewhat in his spot, or Squall's spot for that matter. Anything else he couldn't be too bothered for.

"Hey," he looked at Irvine, who stared back at him keenly. "You happen to know where Kramer's Math 4 is held at?"

"Edea Kramer?" the cowboy lilted, his eyes lighting up with a clouded glow of bliss. "She's like, such a babe!"

Seifer snorted, following Irvine past crowds of other students and sweetly scented cherry trees to the main school building.

"That's not what I asked, Casanova."

"Oh... right," the other youth drawled, as if that thought had just occurred to him. "Yeah, I know where it's at. You're in my class."

"Right on."

"Yeah. Let's hurry."

And thus was Seifer Almasy's rough start into a school year that would be filled with soaring highs and abysmal lows and that would, above all things, change his life forever.

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