All Daria characters are property of MTV. All the places in this fanfic are real. The people aren't.

A Brief Synopsis: Imagine if Daria had been born in London and not Lawndale...

I am outside my English room and waiting for the little year Sevens to come out. The last one speeds out of the classroom like a cat with it's tail on fire. He's shouting for his mates to wait for him. "TOBY! SPIKE!!!" Spike? What were the parents thinking? I'm the first one in the room, as usual. After me a group of girls come in - the Chavs. Staycee, Kaylee, Jemma and LaKeesha. An army of uncomfortable hairdos, coloured mascara and impossibly small, metallic pink backpacks. They have this annoying habit of continuing their conversations after they come in the classroom.
"So yeh Marcel asked me if I wanned to go to dis rave in Brixton yeh?"
"Aaah girl yu gaahn out wiv Marcel tho?"
"Been gahn out wiv him for time Jemz!"
"So yu gahn den?"
"To da rave."
"Aah yes! Yu gahn?"
"Ah wud but ahm grounded for a week!"
"Shame girl. So wha'bout yu Stace?"
"Sorry, gotta catch up on me coursework."
"Ah good luck den."
"Keesh, dahn ask me ah can't do it! Got family problems."
"Blad y'all dry yu kno. Can't have sum fun once inna while tho."
"We went shoppin last week!"
"Dat wuz different."
"Hey Keesh why don't yu ask that girl in fron' of yu? Dat wan wiv da specs an da dry blazer an skirt an boots an shirt she always wear. Daria or sumtin."
"It depends. Will there be blood to drink?" Well, I couldn't resist a zinger.
"Yu weird, girl. Yu kno yu need sum fun in yu life. How bout yu come with me an Marcel?"
"Alright. But I have you to blame when I get tinnitus."

Finally our English teacher comes back. We're doing coursework at the moment on Shakespeare. I think I'm the only person who's enjoying it. No surprises there. She talks and talks about the essay plan and what passages in the play are important but I don't really listen. I know what to do anyway so I just get on with it. Strangely enough this lesson goes quickly. Now it's break and I follow LaKeesha out of the room and into the canteen. "So when is it?"
"Da rave?"
"Saturday an' it starts 'bout ten."
"Okay. How long would it take to get there from here on the train?"
"Couple of hours. Yu hav to get on the District Line from Richmond an' change trains a' Victoria to get to Brixton. Den da club is jus' opposite."
"Alright. So I won't have to follow a yellow brick road to get there."
"Wha' like da Wizard Of Oz den Daria?"
"If I had a brain I would tell you."

Break's over. My next lesson's History and Staycee, one of LaKeesha's cronies is in that class.
"Hey Dar?"
"Yu sure ya wanna go to dat rave?"
"Well not exactly sure, but I was being polite. You know, saying 'yes'. It would've been antisocial to say 'no' to something when you're invited."
"An' yur saying yu're not anti - social?"
"No comment."
"Jus' be careful a'iight? There's sum dodgy stuff gahn on round there."
"I'll try."
Maybe Staycee's right. Maybe I should just go and see LaKeesha, tell her that I can't go. Or maybe I should just try something new for once instead of being such a bore like I always am. But dodgy? What did she mean? Fights? Drugs? Rape? I think I'll ask LaKeesha what the lowdown on the whole thing is. She's the one who invited me.

I track LaKeesha down at lunch. She's lining up for food in the canteen. I go up to her and try to get her attention.
"Wha?! Oh hey Daria, yu still comin to da rave den?"
"Yeah, but I just wanted to ask you something. Staycee said that there's some dodgy stuff that goes on there, but I don't really know what she means."
"Ah that's jus' Staycee. She's jealous that's all. Thinks I got a new best fren."
"And am I your new best friend?"
Then a very awkward silence follows.

The week drags on and I'm getting messages from the rest of LaKeesha's cronies that I shouldn't go to the rave and how it's really dangerous. They're worse than my parents. At least one of my parents says it would be good for me to get out more. My sister's jealous though. She's never been to a proper rave and she's supposed to be the popular one. I find it funny in a twisted sort of way, me having the night out for once...

Saturday soon comes along and it's around five. I'm already getting ready for the rave because it's a long train journey and I have to get a bus to Richmond as well. I don't dress up. I don't do dressing up. I just wear my normal clothes and pack a bag with essentials in it. My sister barges into my room.
"Daria, yu might want one of these to tie your hair back with."
"A scrunchie? Why would I need that?"
"Just tie your hair back in a pony okay? And I've got a spare tracksuit top if you want! You should borrow that instead of wearing that blazer."
"PUT THE THING ON! Get yur contacts on as well."
"But I don't have - "
"Um - well - err..."
"Believe me, I know more about the kind of clothes to wear to a rave than you, so you'd better put these on quick. Oh, wear your jeans as well."
"Yes your Highness."
"Don't wear the boots, wear some trainers. Those Nikes are perfect."
"They're my PE trainers though."
"Wha'ever. Wear the tracksuit top, yep that's cool a nice pink - ooh, change into a baby blue tee. Orange does not go with pink. Ugh. You don't have a baby blue tee? Well wear that white one then. Let me tie your hair back."
"Let me tie your hair back."
Ouch. That hurt. Now my hair's up in a high ponytail, I'm wearing silver trainers that were probably made by five year olds, a white synthetic zip top with pink stripes on the arms and a white tee shirt. Ooh, I look like such a chav. I look like my sister."
"Now all we need to do is take off those glasses and put on some make up... Perfect!"
Great. Now I can't see. And I look like even more of a chav.
I can't bear to go out like this. Mostly because I can hardly see. I guess I'll just grin and bear it. The journey takes a long time but eventually I get to Brixton and LaKeesha was right, it's just opposite the station. I cross the road and go in. Obnoxious "music" is blaring out of an amazing soundsystem and a DJ shouts something out in uncomprehensible slang. I'm still looking for LaKeesha when eventually she sees me.
"DAR? Is that'chu?"
"Yeah but no but am i bovvered tho?"
"Hehe nice one Dar, you're jokes. Have yu met my bwoy? He jus' ova there."
"Wot Keesh?"
"Dis is Daria from school."
"'Sup? I'm Marcel, Keesh's best bwoy."
"Nice to meet you."
"'Eere, yur kinda diffren' to Keesh's otha bredjins. What's different den?"
"Nuthin." Woah. Lying iz propa easy.
"Aah a'iight den. Yu just seem diffren. Dunno why tho. Hey this is my choon! Keesh, wanna dance?"
"Yes bwoy. Course I wanna dance. Dar?"
"Nah I think I'll just hang around."
"Yur choice."

You know, this is okay. I don't mind it. I actually enjoy being someone else. Well I had to. I couldn't go in my usual getup. I wouldn't feel right. I know I'm not going to like saying this but my sis -
My sister was right. There, are you happy now?
"I don't dance."
Okay, I think I'm going to have to bite the bullet and get dancing. I can't take it. Usually I'd steer clear of all this rap stuff but the beat is just driving me crazy. I've got to dance. My head starts nodding, my feet are tapping, but I feel like there's something missing. Something wrong. Then I get nto it, I feel looser, freer, lighter than air...
I've lost myself, this is where I belong. Maybe I'll stop being an emo loner and start doing this. I'll wear these clothes, wear make up, no more boots for Daria! I've found myself!

*Punch. Bang. Wham. Slit.*
What was I thinking? I'd never fit in here. Fights bore me. I'm a dancin' fool. (I enjoy the music of Frank Zappa, yes we all have our weak spots). Why did I come here in the first place. I'm just a misery chick.
This fight's getting really serious. There's a weapon. Some dude's bleeding. Oh my God it's Marcel! I whip out my mobile and call 999. Police. They come. They arrest the boy who knifed Marcel. They get an ambulance. Marcel gets in. LaKeesha cries. "LaKeesha, he's going to hospital now. They'll take care of him."
"Da bwoy who murked him! I knew him too! Ees one of Marcel's clik but 'e jus' knifed im in da heat of da momen'. I think he was takin' sum drugs. Thank u sooo much for callin da police an getting him locked up an getting Marcel to hospital. Yu're da only girl who'd do that. Yu kno yu didn't ave to dress up like dat to impress me. Yu're fine jus' who you are. Welcome to da clik Daria."

"Do you know who you are? You are what you is. You is what you am. Yeah a cow don't make ham."