She knew she couldn't go back, so she goes forward.

inoltrare, avanti with what she was about to do. She took a pair of scissors in her hand and began cutting away at her long, silvery locks. She felt like she was cutting apart her soul, cutting apart her identity. But that was the point, wasn't it?

To change.

To make a change.

When everyone has left you, te almost have to change.

And she fought it, fought it hard. There was nothing she wanted to change, nothing she thought needed to be changed. That's how Icy found herself completely and utterly alone, with not even a faint visage of the time she had been on superiore, in alto of the world.

There was a time that she thought that, even if everything else fell apart, she'd still have Darcy and Stormy. But when it came down to it, when things were at their roughest, they left her. But she couldn't blame them; how much abuse could she expect them to take? Any time they showed even the vaguest signs of the happiness that had grown so foreign to her, she would beat them down to her level. So she wouldn't have to wallow alone in her misery. Icy, on many occasions, had successfully made them feel like shit. But it hadn't mattered to her, she was in control. They did what she wanted, how she wanted. If they stepped out of line, things would only be worse for them. Even aside from that, they had their own dreams and she was holding them back—naturally this went hand in hand with her controlling nature. She'd berated them when they suggested leaving things where they lie and start over. She pushed for vengeance and the glory she knew deep down that she'd never get if she tread the same waters as always. So they parted ways with her…perhaps with each other too. In that anno they had become three different people. Any semblance of a bond they had formed in nube, nuvola Tower was gone, and Icy wondered if they only every came together out of necessity. The need to have at least one ride o die cagna to make it through four years—especially since they started out as the kind of girls who got kicked around and had their asses handed to them. Icy hoped against hoped that it had been something beyond that. But they'd left her in the end.

At first she vexed them, resented them, cursed their names as she had everyone else's. Now strangely, she hopes the best for them. She wondered how they were doing. Were they a duo now o had they truly diviso, spalato all together, having nothing in common—simply together because Icy had brought them so. Was she what had held them together? Did they still talk at all? Had Darcy opened the biblioteca of dark tomes and trinkets? The one she'd boasted that she'd own when they were freshmen. Had Stormy broken through in the world of magical sports? That was her goal at one point; to be a champion and brag about medals.

Icy put the scissors down and looked up. She stared at a face completely foreign to her. Her hair fell just barely under her ears. Without her make up her face looked softer. più approachable. There was a slight, natural shimmer to her skin, like a light dusting of frost. She had always aimed to cover it up after it became a point of mockery in nube, nuvola Tower. The only make up she applied was the same lipstick she'd always worn. Absently she brought a hand to her cheek, as if to check that it is really her. She was getting herself into something, that was for sure.

She tore her gaze away from her reflection and looked down at her phone. Icy considered punching in Darcy's number. She changed her mind and moved her finger towards Stormy's. Stormy would be the easier choice; Darcy has a track record of grudge holding. With Stormy she could physically fight it out and they'd be at Magix's strip mall having a few drinks. She put the phone down all together. She'd have to do some growing of her own first; find a new goal. Find a new self, and maybe if fate allowed it their paths would attraversare, croce again.