.

She had always been the quiet type. Good enough in all her classes to be a model student, but not good enough to catch the attention of anyone significant. Always reliable, but not the first person you would go to if you needed something. Either nobody noticed, or nobody cared about, Riviera's occasional absences. Maybe it's because she always came back  (even if it was with a scratch or two). Maybe it was because her single father was too busy working to notice. Maybe it was because she lacked any real friends to be concerned for her in the first place.

Whatever the case, Riven - as her "friends" had nicknamed her - would never let go of her extracurriculars no matter who or what found her out. As far as she was concerned, they were all she needed. Friends that treated her like family, people that gave her a place to fit in. At the age of 13, you couldn't expect her to call it what it was; a noxian gang of delinquents that stirred up trouble for fun. Especially not when they were oh so good to her, and even if they got into the occasional trouble with authorities they never meant to do any harm.

Time passed. As the years went on and all of them matured, Rivens definition of harm loosened considerably. The constant fighting, petty theft, and back-alley business her group was taking part in was wearing her thin. She warped her reason until it was capable of excusing anything as long as she herself didn't do anything terrible. She began distancing herself from the rest of the gang, which they didn't take too kindly to. Eventually they confronted her and gave Riven a simple choice; help us with our next hit or get punished.

Riven wasn't afraid of their physical harm. If a finger was what they wanted, she still had 9 more, and her pain tolerance had skyrocketed after two years of doing stupid shit to impress them. It was the high chance that they could leave her for good that really scared her, and even if she avoided the majority of them, there were still some good people there...maybe. Enough worth snuffing her pride out for a night at least.

All she had to do was steal. They'd have one of the seniors drive them out to Ionia (it was always ionia, that was a Noxian tradition at this point).  She was nimble and strong, she could handle the dirty work alone. The target was well off, he wouldn't miss anything they took and he wouldn't even be home when she broke in.

Imagine her surprise when the lights turned on as she rummaged through the bedroom drawer.

The anxiety that swelled as he took out his phone and began to dial.

9, The adrenaline began rushing and her thoughts were turning erratic. She thought of her future, still bright, of her absentee father who she couldn't bear to disappoint, of all the precious friends she'd lose if she got busted here.

1, Her hand slipped over her switchblade. Trusty, reliable switchblade. A gift when she was 13 from one of the seniors. He had warned her to use it for self defense only.

1, He didn't make it to this number. The knife was plunged deep into his body by then, and there wasn't enough blood left to finish. Riven nearly collapsed to the ground with him, but the car honking for her attention outside snapped her out of it, and she ran from the scene as fast as she could.

The man would be fine. He was breathing, it wouldn't be fatal. She repeated this to herself the entire ride home like a mantra. It was the only time that she was glad nobody was there waiting for her, and she cleaned herself up before letting the exhaustion take her.

If it was up to her, she wouldn't have woken up the day after.

But she did, and it was all over the news. But some higher power had decided she was worth sparing and caught some poor guy up in her mess, adding onto the pile of guilt that was already tearing away at her. She was only 15, she didn't wan't this. She didn't want any of it. She didn't want her friends, didn't want her school, didn't want her shitty parent, didn't want anything. She chose to run from everything but the guilt, which she let fester inside her until it had consumed her entirely.

Simply put, Riven was a mess. And she didn't even have the balls to confess to it, a fact that only made things worse.

Riven cut all contact with everyone. Literally everyone, as far as the world was concerned she might as well have died. She dropped out and homeschooled herself until she got her diploma, then kicked herself out of the house shortly after. Couch hopping and part timed became the norm, and she went through a variety of experiences that she never thought she would have to for the sake of survival. All this while keeping up the pattern of social ineptness, as she felt this form of self-exile was the least she could do to atone for the things she'd never say she did.

Somewhere along the line she learned to respect herself again. Riven saved enough over the years to afford herself a shitty apartment, the most permanent thing she had in years. More than that, she had finally become stable enough to pursue an education again. With her shitty minimum wage post office job and even shittier slightly above minimum wage hostess job, she mustered up just enough to afford her first two semesters of college. Riven hasn't figured out what she actually wants to do yet, but she figures she's on the right track to getting her life back together.

It really doesn't help that the guy she vividly remembers kind of screwing over is studying here too, though. It REALLY doesn't help that he's also technically your co-worker, and now you can't go over there for the fries during your break anymore. It fucking sucks.