Disclaimer: I think the word 'disclaimer' says enough on its own.

A/N: For Roxypony's songfic challenge! Um... first songfic I've ever written, and to be honest I'm pretty unsure of it. But I was determined not to give up, so here's what I came up with for...*drum roll*... The Anthem by Good Charlotte! As you might notice, this doesn't have all of the song - I did ask if that was all right, and Roxy okay'd it, so it's not cheating :P Anyhow, be sure to let me know what you think about it, even if you didn't like it. Self-improvement and all that, you know? :D Song lyrics are italicized.

When Kurda's eyes snapped open that night, he wished nothing more than to go back to sleep and continue his dream. It had been a wonderful dream. He had been at a park, surrounded by large, weeping willows, casting a cool shadow over him as he rested in the day's light breeze. There was a flock of doves gathered next to him on the grass, and they were picking at the ground peacefully, unaware that they were about to be disturbed. He had just been reaching into a pocket to find some bread crumbs to feed them when the thunder began. Only it wasn't thunder, and it wasn't in the park, and therefore it wasn't in his dream. It was someone at his door.

It's a new day
But it all feels old
It's a good life
That's what I'm told
But everything it all just feels the same

"Get up, sleepyhead," Gavner's voice shouted as his fists continued to bang against the thin wooden door of Kurda's room. "We're all waiting!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Kurda grumbled, picking himself up out of his coffin with a sigh. He couldn't figure out what the rush was for. This night was going to be just like all the others over the past years. He sleepily changed into his sport clothes and resentfully took the dull spear from his table. He, as well as a dozen other half vampires, was being put through hell to prove themselves worthy of becoming full vampires one day. He personally felt that a simple written test would have been sufficient, but then, very few of his fellows could read or write.

Pushing the door open, he gave Gavner a disgruntled glare as they started through the tunnel. "Sorry, Mate," Gavner shrugged. "Vanez was starting to get annoyed. He's still angry from yesterday. I wouldn't piss him off any more if I were you."

Kurda didn't reply. He had to wrack his brains to remember what had actually happened yesterday. Though Vanez was known for his patience with his students, he became irritated with Kurda on an almost nightly basis, and so whatever particular incident had happened yesterday didn't stand out. Kurda vaguely remembered refusing to fight Arra, but that wasn't so strange; at the time Vanez had asked him, she had just thrown a nearly seven foot tall General hurtling to the ground off a swinging rope and looked eager to do it again. But then, all the other trainees had looked excited at the prospect of challenging her. Kurda sighed at his own thoughts. It was ridiculous, this irrational, almost sadistic behavior of the other vampires.

I don't ever wanna be like you
I don't wanna do the things you do

They entered the Halls of Sport and, speak of the devil, Kurda immediately found himself face-to-face with a frowning Arra Sails.

"What took so long?" she asked, her tone mirroring the irritation on her face. "Vanez sent me to make sure you two hadn't gotten lost." She rolled her eyes and led the way to the door that led to the main training room, Gavner and Kurda in her wake.

"I was still asleep," Kurda told her, not wanting the blame to fall on Gavner. Gavner was, after all, the nicest to him of the lot. He at least pretended to accept Kurda's unwillingness to fight, where the others still seemed determined to turn him into a one-track-minded gorilla equivalent who only used words to declare wars and never to settle them.

They walked through the doorway to find the rest of the trainees already at work, fighting hand-to-hand while Vanez walked in circles around them, shouting advice and encouragement. When he saw Kurda, Arra, and Gavner enter the hall he stopped momentarily to motion for them to come and talk with him.

"Gavner, Arra," he said, his eyes passing over Kurda with a look of contempt, "you two can begin fighting. Go to the knock out. Over there by the wall, and don't bump into anyone else."

Kurda rolled his eyes as they grinned at each other and hurried off to begin their match - what did they find so appealing about knocking each other out? Vanez then turned to him, and Kurda immediately wilted under his stern gaze.

"Kurda," he said, his tone flat. "This is the fourth time this week you've shown up late for training."

"Sorry," Kurda muttered.

"I don't want an apology," Vanez said. "I want you to start taking this seriously. Not for me, for your own good. I understand that you don't enjoy fighting like the others do, but you are a vampire. A vampire with young blood, who needs to fight to get his energy out."

"But-," Kurda started, and predictably, Vanez interrupted.

"No, listen. There have been others like you. Few, but there have. Do you know what happens to them?"

"They die?" Kurda guessed.

"Well, eventually, yes," Vanez said, sighing. "But that isn't the point I'm trying to make; I'm not saying this to threaten or scare you. I'm trying to help you. No, they end up detached from the rest of the clan, with no sense of family and security. They begin to go crazy, think differently from other vampires. And that can never lead to anything good. Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you?" He wasn't being condescending or mean, quite to the contrary, his tone was kind and caring. Kurda didn't care; between Vanez, his mentor, and his friends, every approach had been taken to get him to be like the other vampires, but nothing had worked so far. And it wouldn't.

"Yeah, that I shouldn't think for myself," Kurda said. "That I should be like everyone else and fight because that's the vampire way."

Vanez sighed. "No. And yes. You have oversimplified it. Free thought is a admirable quality, but a staunch desire to deviate from the norm is nothing short of immature." Vanez gave him an encouraging smile. "But you are young, you will learn."

Kurda looked away, knowing that Vanez was wrong, that this was just the way he was, and that wouldn't ever change.

I'm never gonna hear the words you say
And I don't ever wanna,
I don't ever wanna be you
Don't wanna be just like you
What I'm saying is
This is the anthem throw all your hands up
You, don't wanna be you

With a clap on the back, Vanez sent Kurda to fight the smallest, youngest half-vampire of the group. Kurda was used to that. Everyone thought that was where he belonged, because he never put up much of a fight. He could have fought harder, could have knocked the over-arrogant young boy out in an instant, but he didn't want to. What was the point? To prove himself as stronger and somehow better? That was stupid. He took pleasure in drawing the match on, trying to find a way to take more out of fighting than one overpowering the other.

I'm gonna get by, and just do my time
Out of step while they all get in line
I'm just a minor threat so pay no mind

Finally, once half of the young vampires lay unconscious on the ground or recovering in a chair, Vanez began to grow impatient with Kurda's never-ending match and called it. Kurda's opponent stalked off, grinning, while Vanez, after giving him a disdainful look, began to assign everyone to a different form of fighting. Kurda was sent to the spear pit to fight Larten Crepsley. This was Kurda's least favorite game; it always involved injury, even though the tip was dull. The whole goal was the be the one less battered, scratched, and bruised at the end of the time limit. And if you took a solid hit to the center of as your chest or your head (solid meaning it left something broken and bloody), match over. To make the judging clearer in the end (not that it was necessary - Kurda and everyone else knew Larten would win), they slipped their shirts off and chucked them onto a bench. Kurda glanced briefly at Larten's rippling muscles as they waited, faced off to one another, for Vanez to call the beginning of the match. Though Kurda was nearly as tall as he was, Larten was easily twice his size. Kurda sighed, not because he cared that Larten was so much stronger, but because Larten had the potential to be so much more than just another burly, fighting vampire. It seemed such a waste.

"What?" Larten asked as he caught Kurda's look. He grinned slyly and he crossed his arms to make his biceps appear even larger. "Nervous?"

"No," Kurda told him, and that was mostly true. "It's just...do you really enjoy it?"

"Enjoy what?" he asked, staring distractedly off in the direction of some other vampires (that is, Arra).

"This. Fighting?"

"Of course," Larten said, shrugging. "It is the vampire way of life."

"I know, but don't you ever think that maybe vampires could do something other than fight?"

"They do plenty more than fight," Larten said, his tone dripping with defensiveness.

"Like what? Drink and celebrate after they've finished fighting?"

Larten didn't have a chance to answer. Vanez shouted for everyone to begin and turned the large hourglass that would time the match. Larten and Kurda held their spears out in front of them and Larten sprung immediately, hitting Kurda clean in the chest and leaving a nasty red welt. Kurda coughed, dropped his spear, and clapped a hand to his instantly-bruising sternum. Match over.

Do you really wanna be like them?
Do you really wanna be another trend?
Do you wanna be part of their crowd?
'Cause I don't ever wanna
I don't ever wanna be you
Don't wanna be just like you

As the sun began to rise outside the mountain, the training finally drew to a close. While the rest of the vampires headed down the east tunnel to the Hall of Khledon Lurt to eat, Kurda, as usual, went instead down the west passage for the showers. He was dying to rinse off the blood that was trickled across his aching, battered body.

As he neared the waterfalls, Kurda found a rock in the middle of the tunnel that led to the washing cavern, meaning that a female was showering. He patiently sat down on the ground, leaning against the hard rock wall. Anyone taking showers in the mountain was fast; the water was far too cold for anything more than a few minutes.

Sure enough, it was barely a minute before Arra emerged from the tunnel, her clothes and skin fresh and bloodless. Kurda smiled at her and she returned it halfheartedly, kicking the rock out of her way.

"It's funny," he said conversationally. "You'd be hard pressed to find two more different vampires than the two of us in the mountain, yet we're the only two who see the importance of cleanliness."

She laughed lightly, her hands reaching back to tie her dark, dripping hair into a braid. "Who would have thought we'd have anything in common?" she said, grinning at him. "Just because we live in a bloody rock doesn't mean we have to be filthy." Then she frowned. "You're still all cut up. Didn't you ask anyone to heal you?"

"No," he shook his head. "Actually, I wished to clean my wounds out before having them healed; I've found that there's less scarring if they're clean."

Arra blinked. "So?"

"So...what?" he asked, confused.

"Who cares?" she said. "We're all going to end up scarred eventually. Why bleed all over the place now just to avoid scars you'll have in a few years anyway?"

"I'd like to think I won't ever be scarred head to toe," Kurda laughed good-naturedly, standing to go take his shower.

"You should be proud of your scars," Arra sniffed. "Any other vampire is."

He didn't know if she meant for the comment to sting him, but he didn't think so (but then, he did have a habit of seeing the best in people). She, like the others, was convinced that he should be like the others, bloodthirsty and violent. She was just a little more bold about it. He stood and shrugged indifferently - comments like that didn't bother him anymore. "Are you saying I'm not a decent vampire?"

"Maybe you're not," she said flatly. "But you aren't quite a vampire yet either. Maybe you'll improve in time."

"Maybe I don't think being a typical vampire is improving," he said, his voice calm as ever. He didn't bother to hear what else Arra had to say to him. Heaving a sigh, he leapt to his feet and hurried down the tunnel to the showers. He hoped in time some of them would come to see that the vampire way wasn't always the right way. Somehow, he doubted it.

This is the anthem throw all your hands up
You got to feel me, sing if you're with me
Another loser anthem
Another loser anthem
Another loser anthem
Another loser anthem

So, there you go. Since it was my first songfic ever, I'd really love to hear what you think, so please, please review with your thoughts. Thanks for reading!