The loo was the usual silence unless a student or two were in there, either snogging themselves into utter bliss or causing some kind of mischief. How lucky ducky for them for Myrtle had to be the one to endure hearing each squeal, giggle, purr...the nerve of this new generation, really! Sirius Black & James Potter hadn't even so horrendously loud in their days here (she was smitten with Lupin out of the four) - but Myrtle couldn't have any boy love her, but who would love a ghost anyway?

Clearly a failure in life & death...

So, there she was this fine evening, lingering around her lavatory after spending time up in the Prefects bathroom, watching the boys in the uppermost corner of the room bathe. Perv. She could try & not do it but Myrtle figured if no one could love her, she'd find the ways for herself to love others, even if many were uncouth & inappropriate. She only hoped it wouldn't lead to a banishment from the Prefect's bathroom but all knew she'd likely die from being situated in a placement that she would not approve of & that her moping (and wailing) would increase tenfold.

"No-body loves me, every-body hates me, think I'll eat a worm! Big fat juicy ones! Plump & skinny ones! See how they squirm when they worm!" she crooned darkly, a look of morbid mischief upon her face. Perhaps with Valentine's Day coming up, some poor unfortunate sould would come waltzing in soon, but for now, she continue the little croon of how the world hated Moaning Myrtle & how good the taste of worms sounded. . .jokingly of course.

Peyton burst through the first available bathroom door and raced to the nearest stall. Without any sort of grace he dropped to his knee lifted the seat and emptied three helpings of steak and kidney pie into the bowl. He couldn't really account for his queasy stomach. He felt like he was coming down with something. He didn't really care. It was hard to care when you were emptying your stomach into a toilet bowl, especially one that happened to reside within none other than Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

With his stomach successfully bare Peyton spun around and sat on the cold stone floor with his back pressed against the equally cold porcelain. It felt awkwardly comforting. He kept his cool grey blue eyes closed as he steadied his breathing. He supposed it was just the flu or something. All he had been doing was walking down the corridors thinking out a new quidditch play. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He had caught sight of his brother who was eerily cheery now that he was back in school and was doing a superb job of ignoring him, he saw Allie who chastised him on turning his muggle studies assignment in late, he saw Edmund flirting with Emmy Lou Carter apparently leading up the upcoming Valentine's then all of sudden his stomach was doing back flips and his lunch was threatening to come back up.

He raked his fingers over his face and up through his hair, "Ugh what the hell is wrong with me?"

There were many things that a ghost ought to handle over so many years, but when bodily fluids, potions, even textbooks found in your loo, all bets were bloody well off. Myrtle had just arrived back from the prefects’ bathroom to see what Wentworth had done.  “OY! WHAT’RE YOU DOING!?!” came Myrtle’s ear shattering shriek when Peyton Wentworth came releasing whatever the devil he had been eating in her little private home (literally away from home), she had every right to be angry. It seemed even post-Hermione Granger students didn’t seem to understand that rule and now, she was fuming. “You have nooooo right to come in here and destroy my home, you stupid stupid boy! Oh, couldn’t you find some other loo to go in!?” she sobbed bitterly, not realizing fully he was living and he had emotions, had issues that were far more pressing than to hear a ghost whine about puke in her toilet.

So when she came to terms that Peyton needed a little bit of Myrtle loving, she came to her senses and cooed ‘I’m sorry, Peyton’ as she started floating down to him. As if Myrtle was really what Peyton Wentworth really needed in his life – a ghost who hit on you because she couldn’t find anyone to love her when she was living was just what he didn’t need, but here she was, grinning at him, speckled glasses and all. “So, Peyyyyyyton, what is the matter, love? Broken heart? Jealousy, hm? Classes not going your way? Even perhaps….” Dare she say it? “Family issues? You can tell Myrtle! Myrtle never tells!” she gushed, grinning as she swung her arms back and forth. “I’m trustworthy you know! And smart! So suuuuurely, I could find you someone to like, even lovvvvve, dear!”

Creeptastic indeed.

Peyton wiped at his mouth again self conscious that he still had a bit of vomit left on his lips. As soon as the shrieking started Peyton felt like bolting but his stomach threatened to give him yet another repeat of lunch and he knew he'd never be able to make it out of the bathroom without throwing up again. So he'd just have to endure Myrtle until he was feeling better. Rowena, why'd he have to run into Myrtle's bathroom of all places.

As she started to coo and sweet talk him Peyton decided that he almost preferred her shrieking at him. At least yelling at him was understandable. After all he did just vomit into her toilet, but this sweetness was just creepy.

He rolled his eyes slightly as she started to tick off all the things that could be wrong with him. Having a broken heart required him to have been in love in the first place, something that he was sure he had never been in. Jealousy much like a broken heart had certain prerequisites that Peyton just didn't have. To be jealous you had to have someone or something to be jealous over and since he couldn't think of anyone that he had a crush on it was hard to think of what would make him jealous. Classes not going his way was something he could relate to, he had never really been good at studying but he was making an effort this year to make sure he kept his spot on the quidditch team and it was going rather well.

The family issues however struck a nerve. It was just over a month and a half since he had discovered that his long time rival was actually his half brother. Xavier had gone through some crazy depression that had made Peyton want to reach out to him but then the Slytherin had disappeared. Peyton had received several letters from his estranged Grandfather asking if he knew anything about Xavier's sudden disappearance. Then all of a sudden Xavier showed up at school as if nothing had ever happened, he was happy and healthy and was once again ignoring Peyton as if he had never found out they were brothers.

However not even his twisted relationship with Xavier was enough to cause his stomach to jump out his throat.

He looked up at Myrtle with an attempt at a smile, "Oh umm I'm flattered Myrtle but it's just that you're not really my type." He suddenly remembered how sensitive the ghost girl could be, "It's not because your a . . . a . . . well you know, it's just you're a girl and well," He ran his fingers through his hair before thinking he may have just run vomit through his hair. He was definitely going to need a shower after this, "I'm not really all that interested in girls. Never really have been."

Poor ickle Peyton, she thought, watching him spill all his contents into a loo, flush them but only upchuck his feelings next. Myrtle was sympatheic to this - after all, wasn't she always reminding people her sorrows as a Hogwarts dramallama teen? "Oh, you poor poor thing..." she cooed all over, ignoring the fact Peyton had rolled his eyes at her from the blatant mushyness display.

Aw, was that a compliment? AWWWWW... but wait. He didn't like girls? Girls like Myrtle or girls.... yep. Girls in general, Myrtle confirmed within as she floated in front of Peyton, looking at him with a mixture of amusement & confusion. "Ooooh, so you fancy the blondies & brunettes with their devilishly handsome smiles? The redheads & raven haired ones who have every bit of mischief in them like Peeves?" Myrtle crooned as she sniffled a little (she was hurt a little as it seemed another strapping young man didn't love her) while she looked at Peyton behind the translucent spectacles she was wearing.

"Who's the lucky one, then? Do I know hiiiiim? Is he handsome? Built like a god of Olympian fame? Or is he a brain child like Mateo Ammmmherst? Did you hear, much more like SEE, who he dates? Adelia Delacroix. Shame...I would've liked to have seen another lady at his side, but c'est la vie." She paused a moment as she put a finger to her lips as she was puzzled, trying to figure what she had just said.

"C'est la vie indeed.....whatever that means." A smile returned to her features, grinning as her eyes stayed glued on Peyton. Poor, poor boy.

Peyton felt his stomach groan again at her words. His cool grey blue eyes widened. He slightly shook his head. She was wrong, she had to be. Just because he didn't like girls didn't automatically mean he liked guys. It wasn't that simple, it couldn't be. Things were never so black and white there was always grey areas that people liked to ignore, but then what was the grey area here. If he didn't like girls or guys was he just an unfeeling lump of a person that would go on for the rest of his life being unloved? No that couldn't be it. He loved his parents and his little sister to death so he obviously had feelings and could experience love and affection just not with the opposite sex . . . but with the same sex? In all honesty he had never really thought about it.

Looking up at her slightly confused he tilted his head to the side considering what she was suggesting next. She apparently had skipped right ahead to finding out who he had a crush on. Did he even have a crush on anyone? Was it possible that he liked someone without even realizing it? He suddenly thought about all the stomach aches he had been getting lately, how his stomach flip flopped every time he was near Professor Frasier or Edmund Klint. He took in a deep breath and before he even realized what he was saying the words started to come out of his mouth as if they had a mind of their own, "I prefer quidditch players."

Well it definitely wasn't a lie. He did prefer quidditch players, he had some really great friends on the quidditch team, even his best mate was on the team. Then there was Leon and Edmund, they were both amazing but he also admired Megan and Adriana. He shook his head again, "I don't know Myrtle. I've never really thought of this before I always just accepted the fact that I didn't like girls like that. Never thought about what it meant."