Coda

Chapter 1: Alone

Porter's POV
I've never been too keen on introductions. But I suppose I'll try my best. I'm Porter Wright. Feature-wise I'd say I'm relatively plain, brown eyes, brown hair. This summer I cut the long mess of a bush my hair used to be in favor of sporting a shorter length not even reaching my shoulders. I've never liked change, but as much as that is so, it resists to cease. So in a fit of uncharacteristic courage, I decided to make friends with change instead of run from it.  I️ stand at a relatively tall 5' 7", on the taller side by standards of my peers. I️ know, I️ know what you're thinking, 5' 7" isn't all that tall! Well you'd agree if you've seen the general population of Aspen. Aspen is a tiny little city in the middle of nowhere. If you'd think the residents of Aspen embody the cities small size, you'd be absolutely correct. But as it is in nature, you have a few anomalies here and there, I️ being one of them. My stature would have been a match made in heaven if it had belonged to Aspen Hunt. She's loud, rich, and seems to believe her "coincidental" name match with the city entitles her to rule all of Aspen. Only thing is, she's entirely too short to assert her dominance and not be almost altogether dismissed. Bit like a chihuahua if you ask me, ugh, little dogs... ANYWAYS... apologies for that tangent, but I️ suppose there's nothing more about myself worth mentioning, well besides my super trendy "teenager living off social security" look i've got going for me.

In strict opposition to my stature, I am terribly shy. I lie at about an 8 on the metaphorical "Richter Scale" of shyness. On top of that, social anxiety, and on top of that, we have my already introvertive nature. A sundae of misfortune. One is left to guess if this unfortunate set came about by way of predisposition, or circumstance.

What can I say? I didn't choose to have the life I do. I've wished too many times to count that I could of chosen what my life would of been like. I could have maybe had a chance at happiness, (save for a few instances, of course, because what is joy without pain?) I suppose it's alright, because I have learned to just be happy with being unhappy.

I've begun to not trust the world over the years. The same world that provides you with food and shelter, took my Dad away from me when I was 9, and my Mom at 13. One by one, the world pluck away all the people I cared about. Until I was left with no one. I'd be too busy mourning the death of my Grandmother to notice that my uncle had passed a week prior. The depression I suffered through in my early years was stoked by the storm of morbidity I was constantly in.

Finally, last year a week before my 15th birthday, my Aunt Charlotte passed. She was my last known living relative. I was alone, completely alone. It feels the same as the loss of someone you love. It's a dark gloomy coldness that swells in your heart and spreads like the plague throughout your whole body until you're consumed by it. A perfect storm of morbidity, never passing, and I the fool who just sat in it.

There hasn't been a day I haven't thought about the ones I've lost. It often weighs me down, the reality of the ratio of which i've lost things, to that which I've gained.

My personal theory is that this untrusting nature is a direct result of my heart being broken so many times. Loss can do that to you. It's gotten to the point where i've started to lose the pieces when it shatters. And that's what scares me the most. I live in fear that if it is broken again there will be no more pieces to lose. I stray away from people and avoid friendship because I'm afraid, afraid to lose the broken pieces of my heart like the ones I loved. And deathly so. Boy I really am shameless enough to make a death pun at my own expense.

My tactic has been to sit on the outskirts and hide my heart away in a suit of armor. It allows me to keep the pieces together like a piece of tape for torn paper, or stitches for a cut. It's worked so far, well mostly at least.

But you know, maybe I need to start living without my armor.

The fact is that this year, I will turn 17 in December. How many of those years had I️ lived? How many of them had I️ lost? I had inherited my parents house the day my Aunt had died. So ever since then I had spent my nights alone in the cold empty house. Lonely is a cold feeling. It seized hold of my house and permeated through it the day the last bit of life was sucked from it. Like a frog in a frying pan, I️ just sat in it and let it become a part of who I️ am. One of those days I realized any amount of time spent alone is long time to spend alone.

But I suppose, the good thing about losing everyone is that there is no one left to lose. There is only the assurance of gaining is when you're at the bottom. If I have no one, there is a physical inability to lose anyone other than myself, which I won't allow to happen. This is my senior year, and maybe just maybe, for once I will be adventurous. Maybe attempt the game of gaining instead of losing the game of losing.

I guess it's worth a try.

I lay in my bed and reflect on my life, on everything. I think about my parents, and the friends I had lost when my parents died because of my depression that scared them away, but most of all, I thought about him.

Call me lovestruck, but he's been the anomalous constant in my life that hasn't left. It's a mystery how routine he seems, constant, an unfamiliar concept in my life. I️t puzzles me. Every day I see him, he lives a house over, and across the street. I️ may not talk to him ever, but he reminds me of my mother, some type of artifact of her spirit. His eyes alone carry a kindness I️ could never describe and are as grounding as the earth they were made in the likeness of. His gait is laced with confidence yet also grace and gentility. His smile is unlike anything i've seen, it rivals that of my aunt Charlotte, it never hides any trace of emotion. Always raw. Ezra Caldwell. He's always been the enigma my mind favors musing over. Always 'what if's'.

This new year could be the start of a whole new life, it could be the year ifs becomes is. But how? Well, a question goes out to the construction workers, how do you start rebuilding after a life of being wrecked down? Brick by brick, that's how.

The school year starts tomorrow. No pressure.

Ezra's POV

Porter... ever since I saw her I couldn't forget her name. I feel bad for her, as much as I don't want to pity her I cant. She's lost everything. The rumor mill that is our school has always stirred up occasional things about Porter. She gets such a bad rap for being a loner, people suspect her to be some sort of mortician, unfazed, cold, and quiet. But they're all wrong about her, I️ still see the softness buried within her. She wasn't always so withdrawn, her and I used to be friends when we were children, I️ remember the soft childlike side of her the world ruined. I had known her father died and yet still wondered why she began growing distant. I was too occupied with sports and other friends to be bothered by it much and that's where I️ went wrong. Along with my concern, went our friendship. Her mother died 4 years later and I stopped seeing her altogether, she became steely and never came out of the house. I didn't reach out. It's something I regret to this day.

Sympathy falls on deaf ears if there are no actions taken to substantiate it. How do you help someone who has nothing to lose? I️ suppose you can start by giving. Well, that's it isn't it. I've made my mind up. I'm going to do something. I will not let Porter Wright suffer in silence.

The school year starts tomorrow. No pressure.

[New A/N: My GOD, this is what my author's notes looked like?? Oh boy, what an atrocity that the smileys don't have noses... anyways, this book was never meant to be a fan fiction, to be honest I could actually care less about one direction. It was always more about the feelings than the story. So welcome to my rewrite of this now, what, 4 year old story?? There's new names and it's definitely not about one direction anymore and hopefully it actually makes sense this time. I do still appreciate reads and votes, just sans the "YIPPEES" and "*wink winks", enjoy! Also yeah Ezra originally cared more about the rep he's built for himself but we will see his confliction about that later on.

Old A/N: New story!!! Yippee! Feel free to give feedback :) thanks for reading! oh. Ps in this book, Liam and Louis are brothers and Zayn, Niall and Harry are their friends :) they also aren't famous. Votes are much appreciated!!! ;) *wink wink*]