Disclaimer: I don't own American Horror Story or any AHS Characters.

Warning: This, again, will most likely start as a T but later will become an M rated story.

Let me know what you think-this is an odd pairing and I'm not sure if any of you will enjoy it, but I think it could be very interesting...please R&R!

~GE7

Chapter One: A Glamorous New Home

The move from Boston was annoying to her. It wasn't that she was upset that she had to move away from her friends (because if we're being honest, she had very few to begin with), it was that she knew it wouldn't help things. Her dad would still be a cheating asshole and her mom would still forgive him and keep them all trapped in this endless cycle of misery. Violet wasn't going to have any of it. She refused to live in a home with her pregnant mother and her cheating dad. She wouldn't subject herself to that sort of torture.

Now Violet wasn't dumb enough to run away at 17, she knew what would happen. The cops would get involved and there would be some crazy business about her being a minor. So Violet did what she did best—she made a plan that was foolproof. Insisting that her parents let her finish the semester before they moved, this guaranteed Violet only a few days in LA with her parents before she turned 18.

Cramped in the backseat of the car, surrounded with luggage, Violet thought about her new life in LA. She had a lot of money saved up from working at a local shop, she had some from when her dad tried to bribe her to like him, and the rest was from a distant aunt who had passed down a small fortune to the girl, as Violet's rebellious spirit reminded the woman of herself as a youngster. And Violet only ever used money to buy cigarettes, so it wasn't like she would be out in the first week. But still, Violet wanted to conserve her money, so she researched LA and found a hotel that had a good rate but wasn't too sketchy, and it had this old-fashioned style that she adored. So she planned to stay there for her last semester in high school.

They finally arrived at their new home, and Violet quickly ran to the room that would be hers for the next week, carefully pushing her suitcases into the closet, not intending to unpack them.

Her exit would be quick and painless. The sun was not even up yet when Violet's taxi rolled up to the curbside in front of the old brick house. She shuffled down the stairs and shoved her belongings into the trunk. Violet hopped in the backseat and fed the driver the address, giving one last look to her parents' home, hoping that they wouldn't find her note (which explained her departure) until later that day.

Turning towards the road ahead, she watched as they left the residential area of Los Angeles, and the buildings turned to tower over her, the large metal structures looking down on her as new prey. She smiled at this new life. While she would miss the seasonal changes in Boston, LA couldn't be that bad.

The cab came to a halt and she flew out the door, grabbing her suitcases from the trunk. The driver pulled his yellow car away as the young girl looked straight up at the large sign which read "Hotel Cortez." Looking back down, she entered the lobby of her new home, admiring the rich colors of the grand hotel as she stepped in. Locating the front desk, she dragged her luggage to the counter before placing it on the beautiful carpet. She stood back to full attention and suddenly, there was a woman there. She hadn't been there the moment before, but she was there now. Violet wrote it off as her tiredness making her slow on the uptake that morning.

She smiled at the woman before saying, "I would like a room, please."

The woman's short, grey hair jumped as she turned towards the keys that were sitting in little boxes behind her. "How long do you plan to stay, Miss?"

"I plan to live here," Violet responded. She watched as the woman appeared to tense up at her words, her fingers running across the keys until her hand flew to one, as if being drawn like a magnet.

The woman flipped around, thrusting a key with a dangling chain that read "63" towards the new resident of the hotel. "I hope you find this room to your liking. Would you like help bringing your things to your room?"

"No, I will be fine. Now how much is—"

"Let us not worry about money now," the old woman said, giving an eerie smile. "Why don't you go on up and get some sleep? It looks like you need it."

Too tired to argue, Violet pulled the key from the woman's hands and picked up her bags, beginning the trek up the grand staircase of the hotel. She reached the top and walked past a bar, which was empty at this hour, all except for a once-beautiful woman who now looked tired and like she hadn't used conditioner in twenty years.

Violet continued on to her room, getting lost as she wandered the hallways. She was exhausted, regretting staying up the entire night, though she knew there was nothing she could do as she hadn't been able to fall asleep from excitement and anxiety. She kept looking back and forth between the walls of the hallway, dying to find her room, when she heard a voice from behind her, "I do believe you're going the wrong way, Miss."

She flipped around, startled by the deep voice that had come out of nowhere. When she did so, she came face to face with a gorgeous, dark haired man in a perfect suit. He was tall and pale, his face thin and regal, and his aura was dark and intriguing. Violet, frozen with shock, didn't say a word, which prompted the man to go on, "This hallway is a dead end. Sixty-three is in the opposite direction. Here, let me show you the way." He pulled both bags from Violet's hands, putting them in his left, while his right arm flew out, begging for Violet to grab on.

Violet was smart, this you already know. She wasn't the type of girl that let random men lead her places where she might get hurt. But the thing about Violet was that she was the type of girl who was up for adventure. And this man was certainly an adventure.

She wrapped hand around his arm, watching a bizarre smile come to his face as he led her to room number 63. He grabbed the key for her and opened the door, allowing her to enter as he placed her luggage on the luggage racks in the corner of her room.

The 18 year old fell onto the bed in exhaustion, amazed at what she had accomplished in the first few hours of her birthday. She sighed, finally free of the hellhole that was her miserable life at home, and embraced the glamorous life of living on her own.

Nearly forgetting that the mysterious man was standing there, she flinched when he asked, "What is your name, Miss?"

"Violet. I'm Violet Harmon."

"Miss Harmon, are you quite old enough to be living in a hotel alone?"

"Aren't you a bit young to be speaking with that accent?" The man smiled at her wit, giving a slight bow before turning to leave the room.