Charlotte leaned back against her bed, hugging herself tightly as she gripped her sides, afraid to let go. She gazed longingly at a small photograph of her mother, a lump swelling up in her throat as she fought back the tears that tried to escape her. Sighing deeply, she pushed herself onto the bed, lying face down as she pressed her face into the pillow. "Why is it always me?" she asked herself, her eyes lifeless and dull, there was no emotion in her face, but it was clearly visible she was upset. Glancing down at the carpeted floor, she picked up an over used and aged teddy bear from her childhood, she had had it for many years and for some absurd feeling, it had always made her feel relaxed and comforted, even at her age. Frowning, she placed it upon her bed, next to a large leather case, which was where her guitar rested. Thinking to herself for a moment, she clicked open the latches on the case and picked up the hollow, delicate instrument, her eyes scanning its body for any dents or scratches. It was in perfect condition, she had it for almost nine years now and could still remember her reaction when she unwrapped it on the morning of her birthday...

"I think you'll like this one" grinned her father, passing her the obscure object as he kissed his then wife (Charlotte's mother) on the cheek.
Charlotte smiled, her eyes bouncing with excitement as she tore off the stripey gift paper. As she ripped open the last piece of paper, her eyes lit up, slightly curious. "What is it?" she asked, glancing at her father bemusedly.
"Open it" he urged her, pointing at the latches.
Charlotte carefully pressed open the clips and peeked inside, breathing out a sigh of exhilaration. "Wow" she breathed, picking up the dusk sun acoustic guitar cautiously. She beamed, her eyes full of love and devotion, towards her father. Leaping at him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face into his chest. "I love it dad, it's perfect" she said, tears streaming down her face.
"I knew you would, now you can stop using mine, can't you?" her father said in a comforting voice as he patted her gently on the back...

Charlotte closed her eyes, a memory would only be a memory, she was alone in this world, more alone than ever.

[[Elle- Bill
Leo- Serena
Charlotte- Sebastian
Zanith- Sam
That is the partner list.]]

Zanith stood motionless at the window. His eyes, framed by a pair of glasses at the moment, stared unblinkingly out at the deserted street. His face was flat, expressionless. The perfect little houses with their perfect white picket fences and perfectly manicured lawns sitting quaintly on the perfect, empty street unnerved him. Not a stone was out of place. The sidewalks were perfectly clean. Tire marks had not marred the flawless white of the cement driveways, and the street was free of skid marks, oil spots, gum, and other evidence of human occupation.

The perfection of the street mocked him. It was the ideal neighborhood, yet Zanith hated it. The fakeness of it all was glaringly obvious to him. Turning from the window suddenly, he drew the blinds closed in one quick, violent movement. He couldn't stand it. Moving away from the window, he threw himself onto the bed, burying his face in the pillow and fighting his mounting frustration. His clothes rubbed against his skin uncomfortably. The brand new cloth was not yet broken in, and it still carried the smell and feel of manufactured cotton.

The clothing was perfect. His closet was full of articles which he would have picked out himself in a clothing store, but they were not his. Never in his life had Zane laid eyes on the attire. He would have loved the clothes in other circumstances, but he hated them. Hated the way everything in this house seemed to cater to his every want, need, and whim. The rooms were decorated meticulously, appealing to his every taste and preference. The fridge was filled with his favorite foods, the bookshelf home to his favorite books and authors. It was sickening.

Yet the house was not tailored to him only. Half of the closet was filled with girls' clothes; the bookshelves contained books he'd never bothered to peruse; and some of the food in the fridge he found revolting. At first, he'd been confused. Whoever had made the house was obviously trying to make him feel at home. If that was true, then why in world were there girl's clothes in the closet? He'd been perplexed. That is, until he noticed the other inhabitant of the house.

A girl. Her books, her clothes, her favorite foods.

The house had been designed to integrate their separate likes, dislikes, and wants seamlessly into one, perfect house, on a perfect street in the middle of a perfect little housing development.

But why?

Samantha groaned and rubbed her head. "What a dream!!!" She checked her pockets. Where is my phone? Where is it? Wasn't it in my pocket? She got up scratching her head, retracing what she remembered.

Waking up,Check!
Going to the Bathroom Check!
Then blank.

Something happened, she wasn't home. "Where am I? Where am I? Why do I sound like I lost my memory!?!?!" She checked everything, his and her. Sam flared her nose. I live with my mom and brother, not another guy... Guys don't even look my way. She opened the door that hadn't been opened ignoring Zanith. 'WTF!!! A nursery! AM I PREGNANT??? WAS I RAPED??? WHAT HAPPENED!!!" She goes in the room and finally notices Zanith. "Do you know why I'm here? Did you take me here?"

Elle woke up. She looked around. This isn't home. This isn't home. She gets up and runs to the bathroom overwhelmed. She throws up a couple times. "Ugh!!!" She looks up to look for medicine. "Omg! This is exactly what I need!" She pulls out some medicine. She looks at herself in the mirror. "Where am I?" She looks tired like she hasn't sleep in days. "Maybe I'm sick." She goes to get crackers for her growling stomach. She hears snoring for the room. That's my stomach... It's just my stomach. Since it's still going she went to the room. "Woah!" She looked at Bill. This is strange, I'm scared.

Zane lifted his head off the pillow, meeting her eyes with a level gaze. "Certainly not," he replied, his tone flat. He was slightly offended by the implication that he had kidnapped her.

Running his hands through his hair, as was his habit, he sat up. "And I didn't rape you either. So unless you engaged in unprotected intercourse before you arrived here," he continued, "You should be fine."

Falling silent, he studied the girl before him. Curly red hair crowned her head, framing the brown eyes that glared at him with unmasked hostility. She was tall, almost as tall as he was. Her arms were bare, and her jeans and t-shirt were stained with some type of clay or paint. He couldn't tell which. His eyes slid away from her, returning to the closed curtain of the window.

It was odd that her immediate reaction to the nursery had been the thought that she was pregnant. Zanith wasn't a girl himself of course, but he was fairly sure that most girls wouldn't jump to that conclusion if they found themselves in a house that happened to contain a nursery. He blinked, standing up to move towards the door. "If you'll excuse me," he said, "I'd like to get something to eat."

He moved past her, careful not to make physical contact. She already thought he was a rapist, if he'd heard correctly before. No need to agitate her further.

Sam rolled her eyes, "Fine." She went back to the nursery. "Do you know where we are?" She stared at the little lonely bear in the nursery all alone with no child to play with it or call it theirs. She picked it up went to their room. She looked for her art supplies. "If this going to be for my child then I want it to be a crazy bear not a weak lonely bear." She found the art supplies and tried to make a bow with a checkered print. "I shall name you Check, my favorite word." She laughs realizing that if she would have a child that the only one that she could have a child with was with that guy she didn't know.

She goes in the kitchen. "Sorry about... earlier. I'm Samantha or Sam by my friends." She hated saying sorry it was one of the worst things she could do to people because she never could be sincere about it.

Zane continued on his way to the kitchen, sighing and sorting through his various needs and wants to distract himself from the dreadful task of waiting for something to happen that might possibly explain why he had found himself stuck in a house with a girl he'd never met before.

Hunger was definitely at the top of the list. After that, a shower would be in order, and then, sleep. Even though he'd awoken only a few hours before, he felt as if hadn't truly slept in an impossibly long time. The drowsy, cloudy feeling of artificial sleep hung over him. The sleep that didn't give you any rest, simply oblivion.

He rummaged through the fridge, searching uselessly through it. Everything he could have wanted was in it. Suddenly irritated, he slung the door closed, rattling the bottles of various foodstuffs inside audibly. This pissed him off. They thought they knew him, and it made him want to prove them dead wrong. Whoever 'they' were.

The girl entered the kitchen just as he was slamming the fridge door closed, and he pushed his hand through his hair once more. She introduced herself politely, and he looked up at her, his red eyes smoldering with irritation that was not directed at her. Though she probably wouldn't know the difference.

"Zanith," he said shortly, leaning against the countertop and bracing his arms against it. "Or Zane. I don't really care what you call me." Feeling his rudeness, he glanced up at her again, trying to soften his gaze a little. He only partially succeeded, and was unable to actually make himself smile.

Charlotte sighed deeply, this was not her home, and it never would be. She didn't know why she was here and to be perfectly honest she didn't care, nothing came to a shock to her anymore. Scratching the back of ner neck nervously, she opened the door and hovered on the landing, listening intensely to the noises, each one surrounding her. Biting her lower lip, she trod down the stairs slowly, strolling into the kitchen like nothing had happened. She passed several people and opened the cupboard to where she presumed the coffee would be. "G'morning" she greeted the three individuals, ignoring the expression of surprise on their faces as she pressed the button on the kettle. Waiting patiently for the kettle to boil, she grabbed a cup from the shelf and poured the water in, along with the coffee, sugar and milk. Sipping at it, she relaxed slowly, closing her eyes as she attempted to calm herself down. "Just be polite" she told herself. "Just be polite".

OCC: They all live in separated houses.

Sam looked away, "Nice to meet you..." She stares out the window. Sam remembers she's still carrying the bear. "I kinda pimped out the bear..." she shows it to Zanith. "What do you think?" She stood there holding it out there like she was holding something that he really wanted. But like he really cared.

Leo rolled off the bed. "OWWWW!!!" he gets up quickly. "Oh god! That hurt!!!!" He rubbed his face. He turns to look at Serena, "Woah," He holds his head and tries to figure out what happened. He gets up and heads to the kitchen when he hears his stomach. "Hmmm what to get, what to get?" He gets the frozen pizza. "Yum!" He laughs to himself.

Zane's gaze traveled down to the bear. The sight of the now checkered bow was such a surprise that a laugh escaped from between his lips. For some reason, he found the now less-than-perfect bear a welcome and humorous sight. Stress, he supposed.

"Nice," he said, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Way to stick it to them."

Moving away from the fridge, he savored the lightened mood for a moment, trying to secure it in his memory. For some reason, he felt that moments like these might become few and far between in the coming days. If that was so, he wanted to hold on to each happy, carefree moment. He wanted to keep them close, even if they were brought about by a girl he hardly knew.

Scratching the back of his neck, glanced at Sam. The moment of levity had passed, and his expression had darkened again. "I'm going to take a shower. So if you need to use the bathroom," He trailed off, and the offer hung in the air as he waited for her response. "I may take a while. I want to scrub all this grime off of me. And I smell weird. Not...bad, just different." Zanith stopped abruptly, wondering why he was talking so much. He blamed it on the stress again. And the lack of other people to talk to. He supposed he really was relieved that he wasn't stuck in this house all by himself. People went insane that way. Zane refused to become some psychotic bimbo who could only drool and talk insanely to themself. He recoiled from the image that thought presented.

Serena sat up as she opened her eyes and realized the room didn't belong to her. Where am I? And how did I get here? Getting up she looked around, noticing all her favorite things...and guy things. She frowned to herself as she went to look out the window, of all the weird situations she'd ever heard about this topped them all. When she didn't see anything of any interest, or for the matter anything besides perfection, she walked out of the room to look around. Inside she knew she should be more scared than she was but it was almost like this was a dream. I mean, this can't be real. No one just wakes up in a world where everything is perfect besides the fact that you have no clue how you got to the land of perfection. She stopped and stared at the nursery, it was odd seeing such a thing like that in a house she supposed she lived in. She walked downstairs to see if the guy was around.

Sam said ok. She went back into their room and looked for more of her stuff. She looked at a picture they had of her.

I was 13... She stares at it, my brother left for the army that day. He wanted us to be there and watch him leave. I wore that new black dress my mom bought and a white Madonna glove. He said it was too much. But I didn't care that he was leaving, when we got in the car, I didn't care. When we went through 2 hour traffic to the airport, I didn't care. When I helped him with his bags, I didn't care. And I told myself I over and over again that I didn't when we hugged and he told me when he came back he would be different.

After he left, I still believed I didn't care until that letter came saying he would never be returning home, ever. All the emotions I felt before came forward. 3 years later. I cried every day. I even went emo for a few months, then art found me and saved me.

Sam smiled. Those were the hard times and she would never forget them. Never.

Zanith made his way to the bathroom. He felt gross, like he hadn't bathed in days. His hair was greasy, his skin felt coated in dust, dirt, and dried sweat. Closing and locking the door behind him, He stripped out of the clothes and stepped into the shower. Turning the knob to warm, he closed his eyes and let the water stream over him. He lifted his face to the stream, enjoying the warm water.

He was unsurprised to find his customary shampoo and body wash in the shower. After all, they wouldn't make such a petty mistake as that. He squirted some of the cool liquid into the palm of his hand, working it through his hair slowly. The familiar smell of the shampoo had a calming effect on Zane. The water washed away the worries and uncertainties, if only temporarily.

Rinsing his hair clean of any remaining traces of shampoo, Zane grabbed a washcloth and a bar of soap. After lathering the washcloth, he scrubbed the grime and other impurities from his skin, lingering to wash his face more gently. The soap slid off his body easily as the water splashed over him. As the last traces of soap suds disappeared down the drain, he turned the faucet and the water stream abruptly stopped.

Wiping himself down with a towel, he stepped out onto the small rug in front of the shower. Water dripped down his face and clung to the ends of his hair. He wrapped the towel around himself, moving to stand in front of the mirror. Looking at himself, he thought he appeared much more put together now. The sleep had been washed from his face. He looked healthier now.

Pulling on his underwear and jeans, he opened the door of the bathroom, emerging half-naked into the cooler, drier air.

Sam laid the picture down next to her. She closed her eyes. She lays on the bed and starts to relax.

occ: ..................................

OCC:This roleplay has died D: