Wyatt Roswell's Story

The small jingle of a cat bell rang through the air of the kitchen as the thick orange cat jumped down from the counter top, small paws thudding down on the floor as he landed and padded over to his "food and water dishes," which were really a pair from the set of expensive wine glasses that Wyatt's father had given him for his twenty-first birthday. Another gift that he hadn't wanted at all, but had decided to set a couple aside, paint "food" on one and "water" on the other, to give his cat the royal treatment. It typically threw his guest off, anyway. If he ever had any, of course, but bringing people into the house was pretty rare.

"What do you think, Iago?" Wyatt addressed the cat, as he typically did many times in the day. With how he found little comfort among other people, talking to his cat had become more or less a cover-up for talking to himself. "Do you think he might forget about this stupid business about getting a doll after a while? I just don't see any that I wouldn't hate..."

He sighed and eyed the cat a moment, and Iago did little more than flick his tail, ignoring the statement and drinking from the wineglass labeled "water" with nary a care about Wyatt's words.

Wyatt turned back and faced the window above the kitchen sink. The look on his face was almost painful. "I just know he's going to harass me about this like he does with everything else. And now he's got that stupid Heartland ball event that he wants me to attend with him, the ass. That's going to suck royal balls right there, too." He turned around, letting his rear lean against the kitchen counter, and his eyes go back to the big orange cat on the floor. "You don't have a problem. All you do is eat and sleep all day, so you don't have to worry."

He was made vaguely aware of his cell phone ringing in the other room when Iago picked up his head, startled by the sudden noise from the machine, as the ringtone loudly blasted the song "Harlem" by New Politics. Moaning, Wyatt brought himself to an upright position away from the counter, dragging his feet on his way to the living room where he'd left the phone on the coffee table.

"What?" He answered into the thin device. The conversation hadn't even begun and he was already eager for it to be over. He didn't even care that the aggravation was so clear in his voice, and after all, his father wouldn't be listening close enough to tell, either.

"Hey kiddo! What are you up to?" Came the voice on the phone. Though deep and strong and obviously masculine, it was upbeat and seemed up an octave, as if he were talking to a child rather than his twenty-two year old son.

"What do you think i'm up to?" He asked rhetorically. He turned the TV on as he passed on by over to the stereo, turning up one of the local stations for background noise. When he circulated back over to the kitchen, he clinked a couple of glasses together in the sink, too. "I'm at a bar." Sure, it was a lie, but the background noise ensure his lie pretty well, and his father would more than likely believe it.

"I shoulda guessed that one, huh?" Mr. Roswell responded. "Anyway! There was a point to me calling you. See, I had one of my geeky little interns hack your internet history, and I saw you were looking at some dolls after all! So I--"

"Wait, wait wait," Wyatt intercepted, his eyes wide, his hand balling up into a fist. "You had someone hack my internet history?! What the hell!!"

"Yeah, it was easy, why not?"

"Oh my god, dad," He moaned, dropping his head down on the counters and recalling all the latest websites that he would have never wanted his father to see. And yet the man was asking like everything was completely normal. Wyatt was feeling... a bit worried about that concept...

"Anyway," His father continued. "I saw you were looking at dolls after all, and since you still hadn't picked anything, I decided to get one for you! Isn't this great? Now you don't have to worry about it. I think this one should work for you, and you can pick her up right at Heartland."

"Are you fucking kidding me? You didn't even think of asking me first?" Wyatt pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. Of all the useless things his father decided to buy him; the sports car from the company he owned, the big screen tv, the top of the line phone, the high end apartment, and right down to those stupid wine glasses. The man simply didn't listen, and Wyatt could only think of the horror that his younger brother had to deal with, having to live with the guy.

"Don't worry, it's no trouble at all! And I'm sure it'll be a big help around the house. It's probably a mess over there." There he went again, not paying attention to the words actually coming out of his son's mouth. "Also, while we're on the topic of your internet history-" oh no, here it came. Wyatt braced himself for the worst. "-I didn't know that you liked guys, too! You should have told me, there's this new young man in accounting that I think you'd really like! He's smart, and I think it would be great for your image for you to be seen with him. I could set you two up on a date! He even likes that weird band that you like, too. What was it again? Cell-fighters? Foo dwellers? The murderers? One a those."

"Dad, oh my god, please... just... stop... talking," He moaned, the contents of the conversation filling him with dread. "I am not going to date one of your little number jockeys! This is why I wouldn't have told you!"

"Okay, okay, I can see you need some time to think about it overnight or something, but i'll keep it on the table there!"

"No, I don't need to think about it, the answer is no." As much as he tried to make the statement clear, though, his father continued without a single hitch.

"Hey, don't forget to stop by the tailor either, because I bought you a suit, too. I think it'll fit you, but you're so short and scrawny so you need to get it fitted probably before you wear it. But I have to run, I'll call you in bit!"

"Please don't-" But before he could finish the statement, his father had hung up on him.

Wyatt had the uncontrollable urge to toss the phone across the room and scream until his neighbors came upstairs just to tell him to be quiet. But there wasn't anything that would accomplish. The doll was paid for, and the appointment at the tailor was made. The only thing he could do was manage to make a big scene throughout both tasks, and be as much of an ass as he possibly could. Shoving the phone in his pocket, he took a look around the kitchen one more time before taking a look back at Iago, who stared back at him flicking his tail.

"You're so lucky that you don't know your father," He said to the cat. And with that, he slid the phone into his pocket, and made his way out of his apartment, turning off the TV and stereo on his way out.

When Wyatt reached the curb, he pulled his keys out, pressing the "call" button which rested on the same device where the lock and unlock buttons were, and the sleek, futuristic car with neon blue glowing accents rounded the corner from the apartment building's parking, drove alongside the curb, and stopped just in front of him, the computer inside telling it exactly the rout to take that it would always take, its engine revving and ready to go. He lifted the door upward and slid inside calmly, not as pleased as someone else might have been to relax himself down into the blue and black leather and silver chrome interior of the fancy, expensive car. Honestly, he hated the thing. It was gaudy, it was a pain, and had it not been for the fact that he would be picking up that doll from Heartland, he would have taken his motorcycle - the one he'd bought with his own damn money - instead.

The drive itself took little time, as he zoomed through the city streets, avoiding those that he knew would be packed with traffic by this point in the day, and in about ten minutes, he was pulling into the customer parking at Heartland industries and stepping out of the car. The place was a tall building, with the front and back covered in big glass windows and the sides lined with more traditional ones. Their famous emblem was on the front, which was expected, since they slapped it on everything from dolls to stock clothing, right down to any little company that they sponsored. Heartland was proud of what it was doing, though Wyatt couldn't quite pinpoint why exactly that was. Something about their entire industry made him uncomfortable. It made him think of slavery. No, he tried to remind himself. Dolls aren't even people, so its not like that. Even still, he couldn't help associating the act of buying a doll to that. He tried to shake the thought again. It would do him no good to think about that kind of thing, and it was already pointless.

He stepped into the front area of the building, which was bustling with advertising dolls and rich people looking to buy. Wyatt quickly made his way over to the front desk, ignoring one of the tall male dolls that offered to hand him a flyer. In actuality, the doll simply made him feel kind of uncomfortable. The girl behind the desk smiled politely at him when he approached her, as she was paid hourly to do. Wyatt instantly didn't like her, either.

"Hi, I'm here to pick up?" He said to her, leaning against the high counter.

"Can I get a name for the order?" She asked, as if he were picking something up as simple as a pizza. She punched a few keys on the computer, reader to search the order and have the doll brought out.

"It's going to be under Roswell," He answered. "Either under Emmett Roswell or Wyatt Roswell."

A look of recognition spread quickly across the girl's face, and she struggled to keep her professionalism. "Oh my gosh! That's right, you're Emmett Roswell's son, aren't you? I remember you from the news!"

Wyatt sighed, rolling his eyes as he recalled many of the latest reasons for being a newsworthy menace. Who could really say which event it was that she'd been referencing, and who could say how many times he'd done it. He simply gave her an impatient, cold glare. "What? Do you want a fucking medal or something? Try actually doing your job, and maybe I won't report this to your superior."

The girl looked as if she'd been struck to the side of the head, nodding quickly before turning her gaze nervously back to the computer screen and punching in the keys again, calling in the order. "I apologize. Your Doll will be out momentarily if you'd like to wait for just a moment."

He left the desk without answering her, deciding to stand by one of the windows while he waited, watching all the bustle through the room. It was an entire industry built on satisfying the selfish. Maybe that was why he didn't like it so much.

Today was the day. Er, around the day. Or so she'd been told. In actuality, they'd said something like, "Any day now, Sunny." Really, she was almost too excited to really pay attention to anything that was said to her leading up to her big day. Almost. There were some things she needed to pay attention to, especially when they used this certain tone of voice with her. Sunny might have been... dim, but there were some things she didn't fail to pick up on. Granted, they were few and far between, but they existed nonetheless. Now, when they spoke to her in a certain tone, Sunny had been trained to listen, and listen good.

In relation to her "big day", she was instructed specifically on what to say when she met her new (and fifth) owner. And that, specifically, was what she occupied herself with while she walked dainty circles around the room she was waiting in. Sunny murmured the words to herself, trying out different tones and inflections, testing the waters, seeing what sounded the best. Who knew speaking could be such a challenge? Ridiculous! However, she knew it was just about as important, if not more important, than anything that had happened to her in all of her existence. This was to be her fifth. Her fifth. She didn't know any other Dolls who'd made it that far. Er, wait. That made it sound like it was an achievement. It was not an achievement. Or, so she'd been told. It was a... What was the term that had been used? Sunny paused for a moment, remembering. Oh. Yes. Disappointment. That reminded her of the words that she'd feared so much to hear, but had yet to have been said. Something had told her, though, that they had been implied.

"Last chance, Sunny."

Now, had she been any more intelligent, she probably would have thought about this around the time of her second or third. Not her fifth. But she was not the sharpest knife in the drawer. Had she been, she might not have even made it to her fifth. For two things could have prevented her from doing so. One- she might have just kept her original owner from sending her back, and two- she wouldn't have been pitied by the faculty quite so much, and thus, decommissioned. Therefore, in some senses, at least, Sunny's denseness was her saving grace. Not that she knew this or anything. It was just a fact.

Sunny resumed her leisurely saunter around the room, twirling around every so often, delighting in the way that her flaxen curls bounced whenever she moved, and the way her floral-print dress swished along with the momentum of her figure. She paused her walk again to giggle, once again interrupting her line rehearsal. She turned her head from side to side, looking for something. Hadn't there been a mirror in the room just a little while ago? Oh yes, there it was. She flounced over to it, beaming brightly at the image reflected back at her. She was going to do well this time, she assured herself. No more getting returned for her, oh no. Those days were over. This time, she'd be good. No, perfect. She was going to do exactly what the staff had told her, and she would repeat what they'd told her to say right to her owner-to-be, and then, everything would go smoothly from there. But... what had she been supposed to say again?

Sunny gasped as she searched for the words that had suddenly vanished from her mind. Damn her short attention span! Those words had been really, really important! She needed them. What was she supposed to do then? She'd forgotten them! Her features suddenly marred themselves with a concerned frown as she began to pace again, fists clenched and lips tightly pursed. If she didn't say what she'd been told to say, who knew how this whole thing would go? Everything suddenly became unpredictable! Oh no... She was going to mess up... again. All because of a few words, too...

Again, she stopped on her heels, gasping again. Just as sneakily as they'd left her, they'd returned to her again. At least, in part. Most was better than none, she supposed. Immediately, she began practice again. She wasn't letting those darn words escape a second time.

"Hello..." she murmured, then shook her head, straightening up and smiling. "Hello! Hello... Hello? Hello! Hello hello hello? Hello?! Hello..." It wasn't sounding quite right. Too happy, too sullen, too tight, too raspy, too quiet, too loud, nothing was perfect, and it was starting to frustrate her. She couldn't even greet a person properly. How was she supposed to get them to want to keep her if she couldn't even get down one word? Again, she began to walk, mulling over the lines in her mind.

At last, she came to stand in front of the mirror once more. She looked herself up and down for the umpteenth time that day, almost pouting in her determination. "Hello," she said, voice wavering in the slightest. "My name is Sunny!-" She cut herself off as her voice took a sudden crescendo towards the end of the greeting. She was never getting this right...

She stomped her foot on the linoleum in her frustration. She didn't want to fail this time. She didn't want to be sent back. She didn't want to lose her existence. She liked being sentient. She liked her hair, her eyes, her skin, all the pretty clothes she got to wear, and she liked all the things she'd seen on the outside, too. She liked rainbows, and sunshine, and cute little animals, and dancing, and kittens- she really liked the kittens -and flowers and even the sky. There was so much out there, and she didn't want to lose it, just because she couldn't remember a couple of damn words to say-

A knock on the door ripped her from her swiftly-jumbling thoughts, and she glanced over to it. On instinct, she straightened her dress and checked her hair (never knew who was at the door, really), before clearing her throat and calling out in that peppy tone of hers, "Come in!"

No sooner had the words vanished from her lips, the door opened to reveal a bespectacled young man in a nice dress shirt. Sunny had no idea what his name was, but had taken to calling him "Mr. Glasses". To herself, of course. Mr. Glasses blinked once, before opening the door all the way and pushing his glasses back up his nose, as they had begun to slip off (they seemed to do that a lot). "Sunny? Your being picked up now. You''re ready, aren't you?" He waited an obscenely short amount of time before looking down at a watch and going on. "Of course you are. Let's get going then. We haven't all day."

At once, she was nervous. Already? No, she wasn't ready! She needed more time! She didn't know what to say! While on the inside, she was buzzing with dismay, anticipation, and a bit of fear, she managed to keep her expression somewhat excited as she pranced over to Mr. Glasses. "Okay! Okay! Let's go!" Sunny chirped. It seemed that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't show the upset side of herself to others. It was always the happy Sunny, and everyone seemed to be accustomed to that.

He clicked his tongue, but said nothing more as he turned on his heel and strode off down a long hallway. She followed behind, eyes constantly flitting about her surroundings. The two meandered through a multitude of hallways, it seemed, before passing through a single doorway that opened up into a rather large lobby area. Sunny smiled. She'd been here before. Four times, in fact. She had a hard time keeping up with Mr. Glasses through the crowd, but he didn't bother to slow down. It didn't matter, because in a matter of moments, he had stopped by a window. More specifically, a young man near the window. From Sunny's position, he kind of looked like her third, but with shorter hair.

Sunny stopped just behind Mr. Glasses. Not that it did her much good, because immediately after she did this, he turned and stepped aside, gesturing to her with one hand while looking at the young man. "Mr. Roswell," he said, all polite-like, and Sunny tilted her head to one side, observing the young man with wide eyes. "This is-"

She stepped in front of him quickly, taking a few steps closer to the young man she didn't know. "My name is Sunny!" she giggled, placing her hands on her hips and leaning forward slightly on the tips of her toes. "You look like this one guy I used to know... But you're not, so it's okay!" She paused for a bit, almost sensing Mr. Glasses facepalming behind her. "Say... What's your name?" Then, she gasped. "Ohmygosh, you're my new owner, aren't you? I... wow! So yeah, what's your name?!" she asked in a sing-song tone, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet.

"Mr. Roswell," came a voice. Wyatt looked up to see a young man with glasses and a dress shirt. The man gestured his hand over to a female doll with light blonde hair in curls and a flowery dress. This is-"

The man was cut off before he could introduce the doll, as she promptly stepped out in front of him and began an ultra-super-peppy introduction of her own.

"My name is Sunny!" She exclaimed, and promptly released a few little giggles. "You look like this one guy I used to know... But you're not, so it's okay!" Behind the girl, Wyatt could see the young man's hand connecting with his forehead. Wyatt, on the other hand, could do nothing but stand and stare, mouth slightly ajar, and thinking of any way could in order to get back at his father for this. "Say... What's your name?" She asked, before suddenly a small moment of realization hit her, and she gasped. "Ohmygosh, you're my new owner, aren't you? I... wow! So yeah, what's your name?!"

Wyatt leaned to the side, looking at the young man and simply mouthing out his statement; 'really?' The young man nodded, almost reluctantly, and Wyatt shut his eyes, straightening up again and sighing, before looking back at the girl with an agonized look.

"I'm Wyatt," He replied, fishing his phone out of his pocket. "Its a pleasure to meet you." The statement was a flat one, and hardly seemed as if it were, as he put it, truly a "pleasure." Perhaps it was a nightmare. Perhaps if he rammed his head into the wall a few dozen times or drove his fancy new car off a bridge, he'd wake up. But no, this was no dream, and there would be no escaping it. His father had gotten him a bubbly, friendly, ditsy little doll, and there was nothing he could do about it. She was already paid for.

Sighing, he brought up Heartland's app on his phone, running the scanner by her neck to retrieve the data from the small computer inside the logo, and scrolled through some of the information, finding his way through the map into the "Owner History" list, only to find that including him, there were five names to the list, with all but the last - his own - with the addresses and phone numbers blocked to the common user. Jesus, He thought to himself. She must really be a pain in the ass if she can't even stick with one person for very long. He looked over her one more time, biting his lower lip. What was he going to do? If she was this much a screw up, he didn't see how he would even manage to keep her in the same building with him, let alone the same apartment. But maybe he could get the girl on cat-duty or something. Give her a simple task to keep her from bugging him too much. That would work, wouldn't it?

Oh god, he sure hoped so.

"Alright," He said, pocketing his phone. "I guess its time to go. Come on, Sunny, and be quick about it or I'll make you walk back to my apartment."

Turning on his heels, and expecting the girl to follow as promptly as he'd requested, he made quick haste for his car, imagining in his head the next headline for the local newspapers; 'Automotive tycoon murdered by eldest son!' Well, sure, he wasn't about to go murdering anyone, he was far too softhearted for that, and not to mention soft-handed to boot. He'd need someone else to do it, seeing as his father could put up an easy fight against his rather small stature. And, dang, if that wasn't another thing that aggravated him. The doll was the same fucking height that he was! His father couldn't have dug a little deeper for one that was in perhaps.... the five-foot-even to five-foot-four range? Would that have been so hard? Well, perhaps...

He found himself sighing again as he reached his car in the parking lot, unlocking it with the button and pulling the doors open, first on the passenger side, and then moving around to open it on the driver's side. He slid into the driver's seat and shut his door, waiting for the blonde, peppy doll to get in and do the same.

"We're just making one quick stop," He said, starting up the car and rolling down his window. "Just a stop at the tailor's, since my pain-in-the-ass for a father apparently bought me suit that I don't need, too." His hand went over the center console, turning on the playlist that was synced into the car. The song that came on immediately was 'Demons' by Imagine Dragons. Instinctively, he almost pressed the skip button, but decided against it, dropping his hand back to the wheel and taking off out of the parking lot as soon as the Doll was secured in her seat. "It'll take maybe an hour, at the most. Then we'll head back to my apartment, and I'll give you some instructions on what to do. The tailor I'm going to is right in-store, and there's a dress section, so if you're good and quiet, I'll let you pick out whatever you want, got it?" He took a quick glance over at her, before putting his eyes back on the road. "But only if you're good."

"I'm Wyatt," he said, and Sunny full-on grinned. Wyatt. What a nice name. Sunny decided happily that she liked that name. Wyatt Roswell. Wyatt, she repeated the name in her mind once more. Sounded like "Why-it?" "Why it" what? she asked in her head, and giggled again. What a name. "It's a pleasure to meet you." She almost gasped with happiness. He was so polite! Gosh, she was excited. It had been at least four months since her last owner, and this one was starting to look better than what she'd hoped for.

He waved his phone by her neck, and she almost jumped with surprise. Then, he started doing something on it, and Sunny started burning with curiosity. What was he doing on it? She was very tempted to peek, but she didn't want to upset him. He seemed real nice. Nicer than some of her other owners had been, in any case, and that in itself was enough to excite her. Not that she needed any more extra excitement, of course. As he did his little phone-thingey, Sunny contemplated (or came as close as she could to contemplating) saying something again, but he looked busy, and she knew (...sort of) from past experience that when people were busy, they generally didn't want to be bothered. That didn't stop her from looking around the large lobby like a small child and having a little conversation with herself in her head. I wonder what his house looks like. I wonder if he has any pets. A fish, maybe? Oh, I hope it's a colorful fish! They shine so prettily! Ohmygosh what if he has a cat? That would be AMAZING~! Oh, I wouldn't mind a dog, either. Not one of those giant, scary ones. A little one. A little furry one. Gah! Adoraaaaable! That's too much cute for just one little animal! What if he has a lot of them? Puppies and kitties everywhere! Yay!

"Alright," her fifth- Wyatt drew her attention back to him as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. "I guess its time to go. Come on, Sunny, and be quick about it or I'll make you walk back to my apartment." With that, he turned and briskly started away, in the direction of the doors. "'Kay!" she called after him, not sure if he'd heard or not. She quickly turned to Mr. Glasses, and gave a daintily peppy wave of goodbye. "Bye Mr. Glasses! See you soon!" He smirked weirdly, but Sunny didn't have time to analyze. She had not seen the irony in her parting words.

She skipped along to catch up to her new owner, whom she'd almost lost due to her farewell to Mr. Glasses. Once she was within comfortable range of Wyatt (God she adored that name), well, she kept up her pace, which was slightly faster than his. She had to remind herself a few times that she didn't know where they were going, and that he was the one who did, so she needed to stay behind him. Yeah, Sunny had to remind herself of these things frequently. Not that she minded.

Sunny giggled when he opened the passenger door on his car for her. Again, he was so polite! Gosh, so polite! Once they were inside, he spoke to her again. "We're just making one quick stop," said Wyatt, and Sunny immediately jerked her gaze over to him from where it had been situated on the little buttons that rolled up and down the window. "Just a stop at the tailor's, since my pain-in-the-ass for a father apparently bought me suit that I don't need, too." He pressed some buttons on a computer... thingy... located on the dashboard, and a song started playing. Sunny's smile shrank a fraction. Her Third had been a fan of this particular band. He hadn't been as polite, but that wasn't supposed to matter anymore. The car began moving, and Sunny hastily moved to fasten her seat belt.

"It'll take maybe an hour, at the most." An hour? That's not a quick stop... Aw... "Then we'll head back to my apartment, and I'll give you some instructions on what to do." Yay! I hope he as a cat... "The tailor I'm going to is right in-store, and there's a dress section, so if you're good and quiet, I'll let you pick out whatever you want, got it?" Sunny's eyes widened greatly, and she blinked a flurry of blinks in her surprise. Rea- "But only if you're good."

Sunny pursed her lips to keep from squealing in happiness. Quickly, she turned her head away, and looked out the window instead, trying to pay attention to the scenery in an attempt to curb her excitement. She was not messing this up. No way, no how. The stakes were high. So very high. Even the slightest of mistakes, the puniest of slip-ups could put her goal in serious, serious jeopardy-

"Do you like cats?!?" The question just... happened. Before she could stop it. Sunny kept her face to the window, facing away from Wyatt, and bit her lip, thoughts immediately starting to flutter through her mind, chastising her for her mistake. AW LOOK WHAT YOU DID THAT QUESTION WAS RIDICULOUS WHO DOESN'T LOVE CATS AND NOW HE'S GONNA THINK YOU'RE STUPID AND YOU'RE NOT GONNA GET THE DRE-E-ESSS GOD FUCKING DAMMIT. Oh. Excuse me. Her teeth bit harder into her lip, ashamed at her mental profanity. Out. Of. Line. She sighed softly, and slouched her shoulders (something she'd been told explicitly NOT to do). Sometimes, Sunny really wished she was different. This was one of those times.

Wyatt stayed quiet, trying his hardest to focus on the road, rather than letting his eyes slip over every once in a while to look at the little blonde doll in his passenger seat. Unfortunately, he couldn't help himself. She seemed like she was just so... so... stereotypical. Giddy and pleasant and cute and sweet. Eager to please. All the things that Wyatt couldn't stand in other people. Though, he tried to rationalize, she wasn't quite like other people, either way. Certainly she wasn't doing it for her own benefit, or to make herself look good; that was just the way she was, the way she was programmed. Other people did kind things for praise, they did it so that their actions would be recognized, they did it because even though they were satisfying another person, it was of their own selfishness, and desire for the glory that would come alongside the good. Wyatt hated that.

But surely, there was no glory in being a doll and doing as your told. That was the job of a doll, to hear jump and say how high, and get nothing in return. They couldn't ask for anything in return, and even when they got something, it was a bit of a shock to them. Wyatt sighed, not quite sure what to think about the whole thing. Hate it or love it, he just wasn't sure. Did the dolls feel anything when they were discouraged? When they were praised? Perhaps they were as selfish as any human, he wasn't sure he could say. That was alright, though, he decided. He didn't have to like dolls, he just had to put up with the one, and at least she seemed at least a little more like she had a personality than his father's dolls, who almost seemed to act as if they were completely empty; no expressions, on speaking. They just nodded and did what they were told to do. The worst were the twin dolls; those just freaked Wyatt out, honestly.

"Do you like cats?!?"

Wyatt's eyes widened as his focus drifted over to the girl for just a moment, before quickly darting back onto the road. That question surely came out of nowhere, and he had found himself hardly prepared it. Sunny had managed to stay quiet this entire time, and he had almost thought it was going to stay that way, what with the girl's focus out the window as of the moment. Even as the question happened, her gaze remained away from him.

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, trying to regain his calm after the surprise and focus on what she'd asked him. Did he like... Cats? 'Of course' would have been the correct answer, but he was fully aware that it wasn't going to be the coolest answer, and he still wasn't sure he could trust the little doll with his little softhearted secrets. What if she was a blabber-mouth, too? He couldn't have her going around telling people that he loved cute little animals. That would almost be worse than his father finding out that he donated over twenty thousand dollars last week anonymously. No, he had to keep up his image as a spoiled-rotten asshat who did nothing but cause trouble. That would be the safest move. And yet, he couldn't say the opposite, seeing how he not only had a cat, but spoiled that cat with more than the cat even appreciated. Iago lived a pretty good life.

"Well," He began, trying to state his answer without really giving an answer. "I hope you like cats. 'Cause I've got one. His name is Iago, and most of your duties are going to be taking care of him for me. He's a big orange cat, and he tends to like cute girls, so I'm sure you'll get along with him."

Wyatt shrugged, glancing back over at her and raising his brows at the slump in her shoulders. That wasn't something he'd ever seen his father's dolls do, but then again, he ignored them all the time. The zero personality bothered him way too much.

Putting his eyes back to the road, he spotted the Tailor's shop on the corner, and promptly pulled through the traffic and down the narrow alley which lead to the parking in the back of the building. At least the place had parking, after all. He couldn't have handled the idea of that car getting scratched by another from being parked on the side of the road. His reason for hating the idea, however, was not because he cared for the vehicle at all, but only because the minute his father found out, he'd be getting a brand new one, and that was the last thing he wanted.

"Alright, let's go in," He stated, lifting up the door and sliding out of the car. "I'm getting fitted for the suit, so that's going to be kind of boring. You can go look through the dress section while that's going on."

Shutting the door, and hardly expecting any hesitation from the girl to follow him in, he made his way back around through the alley towards the front, meeting the familiar chyme of the bells on the front door as he and Sunny passed through. The owner's doll, a young man with slicked black hair and crimson eyes, sporting a sharp tuxedo, gave a sweet, slim smile as they entered.

"Hello!" He greeted, as he was trained to do. It was common for many establishment owners to use dolls in their stores for simple work, especially if the owners were getting older and needed more help. Employees costed money constantly, but perhaps in ten more years, plus the six that dolls had already been out, the doll would have paid for itself in work, though Wyatt just couldn't see the benefit in that. "Welcome to Lucas Formal and Tailoring! My name is Duncan! Mr. Lucas will be right with you in a moment, is there anything that I can assist you with?"

Wyatt pocketed his hands. He had half expected the tall doll to continue on like one of those automated phone answering machines; 'For Tailoring, press 1!' It was like talking to a machine, and Wyatt had to keep himself from frowning. Not that he'd held a smile all day, of course, but he had to be sure that his bored, unhappy expression didn't get even more offensive. "I've got an order under Roswell that my father purchased. I'm here to have it tailored, too."

Duncan nodded, placing some folded button-up shirts down on the front counter before punching in a few things into the computer with one hand. R-O-S-W-E-L-L. Wyatt couldn't help but note how fast the doll's spindly fingers moved on that keyboard, and looked back over at Sunny. Dolls were supposed to have specific areas where they were better or worse, weren't they? Or maybe it was just specialty dolls, he wasn't sure. He'd have to ask her about it later.

"Okay, I've found it!" Duncan said finally, smiling again. "If you'll please come with me, sir, I will grab that for you."

Wyatt nodded, before looking back over to Sunny. "The dresses are over there-" He point a quick finger towards the section for ladies. "You can go ahead and look around for something you like. I'll try to make sure this doesn't take too long."

With that, he turned and followed the other doll, hands back down in his pockets leisurely. Duncan fetched the suit from the back and handed it over, directing him to the little rooms where you could change, so that Mr. Lucas could get an idea for where he needed to hem it and tuck it. By the time Wyatt was dressed and out of the room, Mr. Lucas was there, grey-haired and wearing a nice suit, and Duncan had gotten back to whatever the hell he had been doing before they had arrived.

"Not too bad a fit in the shoulders, mhmm," the old man muttered to himself as he inspected the fit closely. "Need a little taken off the waist, mhmm. Two inches off the length, so short, mhmm." He took a step back, grabbing a pin cushion and nodding. "Yes, I think we can have you out of here with the suit in an hour."

"Good," Wyatt replied, pouting slightly and with a little more edge in his voice after clearly hearing the word "short" uttered, as he took a look at his phone. "I'm cutting it very with time, here, so I might not be able to stop home before that stupid ball."

"Well, at least you won't be late. And if you are, it will be fashionably." The man gave a light chuckle, though Wyatt only scowled at the comment.

"Right..." He watched as the man quickly got to work, and even before the man had started he'd been feeling impatient. Standing there was bad enough, and he surely didn't want to spend any more time than he already was in here. Honestly, he didn't care if he was late to the stupid party - he hated parties, there were just too many people there - but 'stickler for time' always made sure to enforce the idea of Wyatt's public personality. Kindness was a privilege for only a few.

"Well," Sunny almost gasped and looked back at her new owner, eyes wide. She was, in a word, surprised that she'd gotten a response other than a scoff of some sort. "I hope you like cats. 'Cause I've got one. His name is Iago, and most of your duties are going to be taking care of him for me. He's a big orange cat, and he tends to like cute girls, so I'm sure you'll get along with him." She cracked the widest grin she had it in her capacity to crack. Sunny could hardly believe it. After all this time, she was finally going to a house with a cat in it. It was a big one, too. That was a major bonus! The doll wiggled back and forth in her seat, hardly able to contain her excitement.

A cat. This was most certainly the biggest of deals. She'd been to houses with dogs before (not puppies- that had made her sad). Fish too (those had been really colorful- she'd enjoyed her stay there a lot). Even rabbits, at her First's. Rabbits were fluffy, but they smelled really bad, and that made her sad. She wanted to cuddle them, but they always smelled too bad... But this time, she'd be living with a cat! It was like a dream come true! She couldn't have thought of a better pet to have if she tried (which said... a lot about her mental capabilities). She looked up, lost in her musings. If it was a fluffy cat, it would be even better. Oh, large cats had to be fluffy! Her hands curled into tense fists on her lap. Oh she wanted to cuddle it! Highlight of her existence, right there.

For the duration of the car ride, Sunny was much to occupied with her thoughts to say much of anything else, besides the occasional soft giggle or squeak. So, when Wyatt (she still loved that name) spoke to her, ripping her from her thoughts, Sunny couldn't help but jump a little. He hopped out of the car, and she struggled a bit to follow (mainly because of the fact that it took a few seconds to remember how to unclick the darn seat belt, and the darn shoes she was wearing didn't help her catch up to the young man any).

They entered the tailor's, and Sunny halted to stare briefly at the store's greeter-doll. Gawsh, he had some neat eyes. Although it seemed to Sunny that a doll with this sort of appearance belonged somewhere more... more classy. Of course, the place itself reeked of class, but she couldn't help but think that this doll had some sort of higher calling. She shook her curls, not wanting to think on that any more. That kind of stuff made her sad.

Then, though, she let herself get lost among the rows and rows of clothes and such. They all smelled really nice, she noted. Real flesh. She wanted to feel all of them, but that would have been impossible. Shame. It took her a while to find the dresses (mainly because of all of the stopping and staring she was doing; she'd never been inside a tailor's before), but when she did find them, she stopped dead in her high-heeled tracks.

She'd never seen so many dresses in one place before! Sunny covered her gaping mouth with her hands and took a tiny step forward. It was like... dress heaven! Such a beautiful place! If only there were outside, and had flowers and kittens, it would be like Sunny heaven. She smiled. That sounded nice. But which one to choose... And thus, Sunny was faced with the most difficult decision of her existence. It took quite a bit of time for her to pick one. They were all so pretty, and came in all these various shapes and sizes. And the colors. It was all rather overwhelming. She worked hard at her task, though, ruling out the selection pool one by one. Until at last, there were two left.

This was the most difficult decision of her existence. Both contenders were just so cute. It was beyond difficult for her to choose. In the end, she employed the age-old tactic of "eenie-meenie-miney-mo". Although, luckily for her, right when she'd pointed to the dress that would've been the "winner", she'd decided that it wasn't the one she wanted. And so, she replaced the "loser", and held the one she'd picked close to her chest. It was perfect. She just had to show Wyatt. Surely he would find it absolutely adorable as well! Sunny couldn't think of why anyone wouldn't. But then again, Sunny couldn't think of a lot of things.

She went back to the front of the store, where she'd last seen Wyatt, and frowned when she didn't find him there. Oh yeah. He came here to do something, didn't he? And just like that, she couldn't remember what it had been. Rather dismayed, she wandered around the tailor's, looking for Wyatt. She wanted to show him the dress! A very small voice in the back of her mind gasped. What if he's ditched me here?!?! Sunny panicked, looking around frantically. There's no way that would've happened! He had seemed like a nice person! He wouldn't have just abandoned her! Well, she sure hoped not... There she stood, almost like a lost sort of animal, looking back and forth, hoping that maybe if she looked away from one spot, then looked back, he'd be standing there.

"Finished!" Mr. Lucas exclaimed admiring his work. The slimming black suit looked so dashing a streamlined, and the old tailor was confident that the finished tailoring job would make the boy look taller, at least from a distance.

"It's about damn time," Wyatt responded, pulling his phone from pocket and checking the time quickly. Yes, the ball was probably starting by now, or perhaps it was about to start, he wasn't sure. He didn't care about being late, not in the least, but he'd never hear the end of it from his father if he was. Sure, he would love to irritated his father any other time, but this time he'd be in the same building as his father for an entire damn night, and there wouldn't be any way to stop him if he started chastising him. "I'll have to get going as soon as possible."

"Will you be wearing that out, then?" Mr. Lucas asked, giving a glance over at Duncan as he brought over Wyatt's neatly folded clothes with a sweet and polite smile.

Wyatt quickly took the clothes from him, giving a nod to the man as he began the tread back in the direction of the rest of the store. "Yes, and there's a young lady-" He paused, biting his lip a moment before correcting himself. "-ah, a doll, I mean - with me. I told her to grab a dress for herself. I'll be purchasing that as well, and I'll just need you to let her into the dressing room to change into that, alright?" He looked back at the tailor in search of an affirmation, before setting his sights back on where he was going. When Sunny came into view, he quickly made note that she'd found something, seeing the little pink dress in her hands. He gave her a small smile as he approached, putting a light hand on her shoulder as he walked past, continuing on his way towards the front counter for payment.

"Looks like you didn't have any trouble finding something," He said to her as he passed by. "Sorry that took so long, we'll be leaving in just a second."

"Duncan, show the little lady to the dressing rooms so she can change into it," Mr. Lucas said, making his way up to Sunny and unpinning the price tag from it so that he could ring it in with the purchase. Duncan gave a nod and a smile, turned his attention to Sunny, giving a nice, welcoming, "Follow me, please!" before beginning to lead her away towards the back again, looking back at her occasionally to make sure she was following.

"Mr. Lucas, do you have a tie that will match her dress by any chance?" Wyatt asked, leaning against the front counter and fishing through the pockets of his folded jeans for his wallet.

"You want to wear a pink tie?" The man asked, raising his brows. "And I was surprised enough that you didn't mind spending this much money just for a doll."

"You're right, you're right," Wyatt said, nodding and fishing his credit card out of his wallet. This particular credit card was the one that would be charged directly from his father. "Make it a bow tie instead, that will look much better."

The man shrugged. Surely there was nothing he could say to change the mind of a spoiled rotten business tycoon's son. Especially not one like Wyatt Roswell, who was about as rotten and pompous as they came. What had been the most recent edition in the tabloids? Oh yes, a police officer had been trying to tell him that he was too intoxicated to drive home from his father's company's benefit, and Wyatt had promptly poured a glass of champagne over the officer's head. Later to be arrested, but bailed out with daddy's money. It couldn't be helped. Mr. Lucas promptly shuffled off to retrieve the bow tie, coming back and handing it to Wyatt before sliding in behind the counter and punching all the prices into the register.

"That'll be-"

"Yeah, I really don't care," Wyatt said, stepping on the man's words before he could utter the obscene price aloud. It didn't matter in the least, it was his father's money to waste, and it was his father's fault for entrusting him with it. He simply held out the credit card. "If you wanna throw on an extra couple hundred dollars, I still wouldn't care."

The man took the card with a little raise of his eyebrows. What a brat, huh? Wyatt played the part perfectly. While the man rung out the purchase, he quickly tied the tie around his neck, recalling from the many times he'd had to get all dressed up how to tie it himself. He hated when people tried to do it for him, and was glad that Mr. Lucas hadn't tried. By the time the card was being handed back to him, and shoved back into the wallet, he could hear Sunny coming back, all decked out in that pretty little dress of hers. She looked... Adorable. He could admit that, couldn't he? Yeah, that was fine to think... Since she was a doll and stuff. She was supposed to look cute! And at least she'd picked out a good dress for herself. At least he could trust her with the task of picking out her own clothes.

He debated saying something to her about the dress, but simply bit his lip. Should he be saying something? Was it necessary? Oh god, he certainly couldn't go calling her cute and adorable in front of other people. Who knew what kind of rumors it would start about his personality! They might think he had a soft spot for cute little dolls, and that was the last thing he wanted. Sure, he hadn't determined his feelings towards the bubbly little doll yet. He was still unsure, and had to think about it a little more. Yes, he could admit that she looked cute, but he'd only be admitting that in his head, that was for sure.

"Good, you're all set," He said to her, facing her but averting his eyes, almost shyly though it was hard to tell. He picked up his folded stack of clothes and took a step away from the counter. "Sorry, I probably should have mentioned this when I realized how short we are on time, but we're going to head to the heartland Ball first it turns out. There just isn't time to stop at home before hand, but we'll probably leave early anyway. Either way, we should head out now. Do you have all your stuff?"