We are in no way taking credit for SJMAAS's world, we are just borrowing her characters and putting them in a modern day world. I wish we were, but alas this is the real world. All the characters belong to her, but we are the creators of this story.

Chapter 1-The Birthday

Paint? Check. Brushes? Check. I went through a mental checklist of all my supplies, frantically searching the contents of my purse for the address of the home I was suppose to go to. After a few moments, I dug it out, relieved it was still in one piece. The man, Rhys, he said to call him, messaged me on Facebook yesterday asking if I could be the face painter for his sister's birthday party. I had no idea how he got ahold of me, a tattoo artist, but I was happy to oblige, anything to get a little more cash that I was desperate to receive-even if it was such short notice. The fact that he offered double was also extremely convincing.

I ran out the door, making sure to lock the knob and the deadbolt; in a neighborhood like mine, you could never be too safe. I glanced down at the address in my hand and typed it into my phone. Fortunately, it was only 10 minutes away from here, I raised my eyebrows, and clearly in the good part of town. And by good, I mean where all the rich people live.

I drove for a few minutes pondering about the party. How old were the girls? Would I be good enough? Would they hate everything I paint and kick me out without paying me? The man hadn't told me anything about what the age group would be when we discussed the arrangements. I knew I'd come to the right place when dozens of small girls, around the ages of 5-7 were milling around a huge mansion. Mansion didn't even cover it, this was a castle and if I didn't know better, I'd think the people who lived here were actual royalty. The houses in my neighborhood would barely be hovels in comparison to the house I was standing in front of. My car was clearly out of place in the midst of the expensive looking sports cars.

I was about to grab my supplies and climb out of my car, when someone scared me out of my mind by opening the door for me and helping me out. I was too shocked to do anything but stare straight ahead with my mouth wide open.

The man lets out a breathy chuckle and holds his hand out for me to shake. "Hello, I'm Rhys. You must be Feyre? The face painter?" He was talking to me, I realized belatedly, and I slowly dragged my eyes up from his chest to his face, and once again the breath was knocked out of me. Stunning violet eyes gazed back at me with a hint of amusement. He had a pinched smile on his face, like he was holding back a laugh. "Please tell me it is you. This would be really embarrassing if it wasn't."

Coming out of my daze, I immediately stuck my hand out, giving his a brief shake and forced myself to talk. "Oh! Yes. Sorry, you scared me. Normally people don't go around opening my car doors," I said, trying to diffuse the awkwardness. I had to force myself to look away from his perfectly sculpted face so I decided to turn towards his house. "Is the party inside or outside?" I ask.

"Outside. Yeah, I wouldn't trust my sister's friends inside," he said mostly to himself. I turned to look at him-he looked close to my age, probably in his early to mid-twenties. Clearly too young to be living in this house by himself and taking care of his baby sister.

"Lead the way," I said grabbing my supplies and closing my car door. Normally I would make sure the doors were locked, but something told me that the people here wouldn't be interested in the wreck that was my car.

As we walked on his enormous lawn, he was humming something that I recognized to be a classical tune and I lifted my eyebrows up in surprise. I would have pegged him for a alternative music kind of guy.

I observed him, again; this time from behind. He was wearing an extremely tight white t-shirt and swim trunks, which made be believe this would be a pool party. Thankfully, my face paint was waterproof. By the width of his shoulders and the size of his arms, it was obvious that he spent a good amount of time at the gym downtown. He swung his arms as he walked and I was too distracted by the muscles on his back to notice when he came to an abrupt stop, which of course, sent me crashing into him.

"Whoa!" I exclaimed pathetically as I tried to right myself, I saw the ground coming towards me at a rapid pace before I felt strong arms wrap around my waist and steady me.

"Are you okay?" he asked with no small amount of amusement. I felt my face flush and I mumbled a sorry in his direction, not meeting his gaze. He was so tall I could barely see the smirk that was plastered on his face. He removed his hands from my waist and I backed up a few steps.

"So, you can set up your supplies over there," he said gesturing to a huge tent lined with tables. "Watch out, once they see you they'll all come rushing at once. I hope you got your princess painting down," he said with a small laugh.

I looked around at the dozen adorable girls running around in tutu's and tiaras and I had to let out a laugh of my own. Rhys looked down at me with a small smile at his face. He leaned in a bit and I blushed at his close proximity. "I might come keep you company if I feel the need to hide from the moms," he said into my ear.

I looked at the moms who were busy talking with each other and I noted that there were no dad's here. I wonder where his parents were, but I thought it better just to keep my mouth shut. I barely knew him. I managed a polite nod and I set out to work. Thank god there was a tent; I would melt from the heat otherwise.

Sure enough, once I had all my supplies laid out Rhysand yelled-loud enough for the whole block to hear-"who wants face painting?"

The girls all let out squeals of 'me' and 'I do!' then came barricading towards me. Rhysand flashed me a teasing grin and I shook my head. He hadn't been wrong.

"Um...If you can get in a line please. We'll take turns," I said trying to calm down the hoard of girls who were arguing over who got to go first. No one even heard me.

"You heard her! Get in a line!" someone shouted from beside me. I jumped up in my

seat and turned to look at Rhysand, who was seated next to me.

"How did you get here so fast?" I asked. He laughed and shrugged. I shook my head,

again, and called up the first little girl. She had trouble getting on the chair so Rhysand hoisted her up with one arm, the muscles in his arm flexing. Whoah Feyre, focus!

"What's your name?" I asked softly.

"I'm Amara and I'm Rhys's sister!" she said proudly, lifting her chin and looking at looking at Rhys. I laughed at glanced at Rhysand who gazed back at his sister with soft, loving eyes.

"Well, happy birthday Amara! What do you want me to paint on you?"

"Um.. I want.. A princess!" she said after a few minutes of thinking. Rhysand shot me an I-told-you-so look and I chuckled, wetting my paint brush. I was hyperaware of Rhysand staring at my hands in awe as if he hadn't seen anyone paint before. Honestly, I wasn't even that good. My work was mediocre at best.

Twenty girls later, my hand was unusually stiff from painting so many princesses. Rhysand had stayed beside me the entire time, not uttering a word. I was in concentration mode; when I painted, it was as if I was transported into a whole different world. I noticed all of the proud moms coming to take pictures of me and their child as I was painting, and it took everything in me not to hide behind my hair.

"So, I guess I'm finished then," I said, standing up to stretch my legs. I flexed my fingers trying to regain some feeling into them.

"Not so fast. I want one too," Rhysand said with a smile tugging on his lips.

"Oh? What would you like? A princess, pony? How about Elsa?" I asked with pretend enthusiasm counting them off on my fingers.

"I want a bat," he said simply and sat on the chair the girl's previously occupied. I cracked a smile and tried not to blush again from his nearness. Since he was so tall, his knees touched mine when I sat down.

"Sure thing, batboy," I laughed. I'd realized that I'd laughed more here than I had in the last year.

I tried not to stare into his deep violet eyes as he was staring unflinchingly at mine. Instead, I focused on his nose, a straight, elegant nose that would keep me up until I painted it. I brought my trembling fingers up to his hair that fell onto his eyebrows to brush it away, but it would just fall right back into place.

"You hair won't stay out the way, will it?" I asked, exasperated. I turned for a second and fished my purse for a head band. "If you want me to finish, put this on, okay?" I said, handing him the black, thick headband.

"You're serious aren't you?" he said with a sigh. I gave him a pointed look and he sighed again through his nose and put it on. Surprisingly, he knew how to put it on. I struggled to maintain my poker face as I finished the last of it. But I couldn't hold it in any longer and I burst out in uncontrolled laughter.

"You think this is funny?" Rhysand said incredulously. "This," he said gesturing to his face, "is beautiful." He struck a pose.

I rolled my eyes at his arrogance, but there was no denying that he was beautiful. He took out his phone and went to the camera to see his face.

"Wow. Feyre, this is really good," he said, making funny faces in his camera.

"It's just face paint…" I trailed off, embarrassed at his off-handed compliments.

"This is not just face paint. This is art. I wouldn't be able to do this," he said touching his face. "Come on, let's take a picture."

"What? No, it's okay! Just give me your phone, I can take a picture of you and your sister if you want," I said trying to divert the attention away from myself. I hated pictures-of me, that is.

"Oh come on! Just one," he said, and before I knew what he was doing he came next to me, pinning my arms in place by wrapping his arms around my shoulder. His fingers gave my side a soft tickle, and I couldn't hold my laughter in. He took the picture, but he made sure to take the headband off first. "Look at that, you don't look like you're about to murder me," he said showing me the picture.

I had to admit, It was a pretty good picture. Rhysand had his charming smile on, and I was laughing softly, my full smile on display.

"That is a good picture," I said after a moment, not sure of what to say. He just smiled and held out his hand.

"Do you have a phone?" he asked.

"Of course I have a phone," I said with a 'duh' tone.

"Can I see it?" that's why he had his hand out. I reluctantly gave him my phone, not knowing what he was going to do with it.

I didn't have a passcode so he easily went to my contacts and added his number in it. I blushed for the umpteenth time and took my phone back. His fingers lingered on mine as I snatched it back.

"Call me," he said, gesturing to my phone.

"What?" Was he asking me out? I don't know how these things work.

"I don't have your number. If you call me, I'll get it," he explained with a smile. He was always smiling, it seemed.

I called his number and a generic ringtone buzzed from his pocket. He fished his phone out with his calloused fingers and answered the call.

"Rhysand speaking," he said into the phone.

"Hi, this is Feyre. The girl who was forced to give you her number," I replied back.

"Oh, I got to go. There's a pretty girl I need to get back to," he said with a smirk. He

ended the call and I was pretty sure my face was crimson red.

"I can send you the picture," he said, and he was already on it. Seconds later, my phone beeped.

"Thanks. I guess it's time for me to go now," I said checking the time.

"Going so soon? You don't want to stick around some more? Or is my company already tiring you?" he said it teasingly, but I detected a hint of sadness in his voice, but it was gone the second he mischievously added, "the mom's won't give me a break once you leave," he stage whispered.

I grinned. "I actually have to catch my shift at work and I have to change. Thank you, though."

"Where do you work?" he asked, genuinely interested.

"I work at the tattoo parlor on the main road in town. You know it?"

"You're a tattoo artist? That's amazing. I've gone in there a couple of times, but I never got one." He smiled again before he took out his wallet and handed me wad of bills. "This should cover it, right?"

I shook my hands and my head. "It's on me. This was my pleasure." But he still insisted, going as far as prying my hands open and shoving the cash in.

"Don't be ridiculous," he said and I shook my head. He was overpaying, by a lot.

I awkwardly said bye and waved at head backing up towards the gate.

"Don't be a stranger!" he called and I turned around to see the view of him taking his shirt off, revealing a spectacularly muscled torso and diving into the pool. I looked around and noticed I wasn't the only one swooning. I got into my car and looked at the picture on my phone, smiling. I set the picture as my background, which was weird since I've just met him. But I closed my eyes in bliss, reveling in the fact that in those moments I'd forgotten about him.

A/N: Hope you liked it! This whole story is going to be in Feyre's POV.