Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the stuff that is my own.
A/N: Hehe… who knew you could get writer's block only three chapters in with a story that has no plot whatsoever? I mean technically as I have no particular ending I'm aiming for I could write anything and it would be fine. Alas, due to my lack of inspiration my initial attempts sounded shite, so I've just done a bit of a time jump to avoid the problems I was having.
Also, the people have spoken and the pairings have been decided. Many thanks for the help guys.
S µ м m ε ® Ŕ α ϊ η
A sunbeam to warm you,
A moonbeam to charm you,
A sheltering angel,
So nothing can harm you.
Irish Blessing
Keira sighed, trying to ignore the chaos around her that was the Kingston family having breakfast on a Saturday. She poured herself her customary glass of orange juice and grabbed a warm piece of buttered toast. Leaning back on her chair she watched the squabbles over who got the last Cocoa Pops, the discontented faces of those who had to make do with wholemeal bread because someone had taken the last piece of white toast, and the general chaos that having two separate cartons of milk - one full cream and one skinny - could make.
As she chewed she mentally ran over the past three weeks. She had by this point in time settled into the monotony of the school routine, and also had bunch of slightly deranged people to hang with which helped pass the time. She was also starting to get comfortable amongst the various members of her host family, the exception being Brooklyn. The second eldest had had it in for her since day one, but the stunt with the ear-piercing had probably made things worse. Grounded for two months and an allowance cut from 20 bucks a week to 10. Ouch. Definitely not a good way to make friends.
She was in an awkward position with Brooklyn. He wasn't being openly rude or angry about what had happened, and although she could guess at what he thought of her, he never confirmed her theories. At the moment he was merely ignoring her and it was getting kinda annoying considering they shared just about everything from rides to school, to classes and even a bathroom.
A sudden flurry of movement interrupted her thoughts as Charles and Monique extracted themselves from the large wooden table. After a quick round of hugs and kisses from Monique (which Keira was not excluded from) and a hearty-verging-on-painful pat on the back from Charles (which everyone but Keira managed to be avoid) the two hurried out the door and off to work.
Extra work on Saturdays was not an uncommon thing for the two parents. Although Monique and Charles brought in a large income together, five kids ate a lot of food and a bit of extra cash was always welcome. Unfortunately this meant they had less time for family activities, and that was why sitting down and eating together had become so important.
Things seemed to settle down for moment and the sound of the cars reversing out of the drive carried faintly through the kitchen. Once the noise had faded and the parents had driven off Darien got up leisurely stating that he had a date to get ready for. After that silence reigned for a few more minutes as everyone ate their breakfast and Keira tried to enjoy a moment's peace.
"We're done," chorused the twins, pushing their bowls away in unison and looking expectantly at Brooklyn who was reading the paper. Keira noted curiously that he was skimming through the travel section.
Their older brother glanced up at them for a moment and said, "Fine, put your bowls in the sink and you can go."
Keira watched as Davy and Bobby hopped off their chairs and dumped their plates before running down the stairs into the basement. She slowly sipped her orange juice and nearly choked when Rosa started crying loudly for no apparent reason. In seconds Brooklyn was kneeling down by her chair, newspaper abandoned on the table.
"Rosa, what's wrong?"
The words slipped from his mouth in such a caring manner that Keira nearly choked on her juice again. This was unusual. She watched in quiet amazement as he put an arm around the little girl and said, "Tell me what's wrong. Tell Brookie what's the matter."
Gradually Rosa's sobs faded to sniffles, then from sniffles to hiccups. Swallowing deeply she announced, "I can't go to Mathilda's today."
"Why not?"
"Because Mummy said she'd drive me, but she's gone to work."
"Well Darien can drive you instead."
"B… but he's… he's going on a date with… wi…" and she broke into tears again.
Quickly Brooklyn shushed her and amended his words, "Well I'll take you then. Darien can use Bethany's car."
"But you're grounded."
"I think we can make an exception."
"R… really?" hiccuped the little girl.
"Really," confirmed Brooklyn, nodding his head solemnly.
Like flipping a light switch the tears were gone and Rosa was beaming up at him, cheeks dimpled and glowing.
"Thanks Brookie!" she cooed, and flung her arms around him and planted a kiss on his cheek.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever… just let me clean up here first. Go get ready and I'll drive you over."
The small child clambered down from her chair and padded out of the kitchen.
Brooklyn stood up rubbing his forehead, but a slight smile played on his face. He ran a hand through his messy hair and started to put away all the things on the table. Keira watched him pensively. It wouldn't be the first time she had misread someone. She finished the last of her drink and stood up to start stacking the dishwasher.
"I'll do it," said Brooklyn gruffly, standing next to her but not looking at her. He was obviously continuing his I'm-pissed-off-at-you-but-I'm-going-to-be-mature-about-it act.
"I got it," she replied, irritated that he wouldn't look her in the eye.
"You're our guest," persisted the male teen, snatching the bowl from her.
She grabbed his wrist and stared angrily at him, her volatile temper getting the better of her.
"No I'm not. I am renting a room which puts me on the same level as anyone else in household. That being said I am going to do my fair share of the housework," she practically yelled.
He still wouldn't look at her, just pulled his hand roughly out of her grip so he could shove it in his pocket and stare moodily at the ground. Keira wanted to scream with frustration. What a child! But then he muttered something that made her take a step back.
"I never asked for you to come. There were enough people in this house before you turned up."
The sudden change of topic and bitterness of Brooklyn's voice surprised her, so much so that she was silenced for moment. She thought he was only mad about the events of the first few days. Apparently not. This was totally different, and she couldn't really argue with it. He was right. He had never asked for her to come here and there probably were enough people in this house, however large, before she came. She was intruding on their family. However any sympathy she might have felt was diminished in light of the fact that he was just behaving like a brat, sulking rather than doing something about the situation. Beside it was not like he had any right to blame her for it all, she had had no control over the situation, and that just made her mad.
"What was I supposed to do, Brooklyn?" she spat out his name angrily, "I had no choice in the matter either. You think I came here willingly? You think too highly of yourself if you believe I would actually want to live with you."
Blue eyes flashed angrily and he spat back just as venomously, "At least I have a place to live. What do you have? You have no home, you don't belong anywhere, I bet you don't even know where you were born! You're a bloody gypsy."
Although not everything he said was entirely correct, there was enough truth to it that it stung deeply. Who the hell did he think he was? He knew nothing about her, about her life. So she did the only thing she knew how to do in a situation like this, she attacked.
"You're just a spoilt, rich kid who's worried that now I'm here mummy and daddy won't have enough time to pamper you and adore you," she retorted viciously.
Brooklyn gave her a strange, dark look, his bangs hanging in his sapphire eyes and partially shadowing his face. He opened his mouth to say something when Rosa bounded down the stairs and skidded to a halt in the middle of them.
"Gotta go Brookie! Gotta go or else we'll be late," she chirped happily, completely oblivious to the tension lying heavily in the room.
"Go wait in the car," said Brooklyn in a quiet, strained voice. Rosa nodded and ambled off. Keira and Brooklyn faced off for a few seconds longer before he finally turned away. Brooklyn hunched his shoulders and said in an unreadable tone, "Look, whatever. I'm gonna take Rosa to her friend's."
Keira stood silent and watched him walk over to the door. As he was grabbing his coat of the rack he turned and faced her. In those short seconds he appeared to have recovered from their little spat and had his usual chauvinistic smirk on his face. He casually raised an eyebrow and drawled, "And since it bothers you so much feel free to finish cleaning up."
Keira felt her hackles rising at his tone, but he was out the front door before she could respond. She threw the dishcloth down on the ground, damning all guys and their egoistic attitudes. She tried to make peace and he threw her offering back in her face.
Pulling her leather gloves out of the back pocket of her jeans she slipped them on and then drummed her fingers on the bench top, her brow furrowed. If his feelings towards her hadn't been clear before, they were now.
Suddenly her eyes settled upon an old photo album, an idea started forming in her head and she smiled roguishly. If nothing else at least one thing had been cleared up in their little chat.
This was war.
"Mum, please can you shorten my grounding. One more weekend stuck in this house with the bitch-from-hell and I'm gonna die," moaned Johnny to his mother from his languid position on the expensive, imported couch.
"Johnny, get your feet off that Italian leather or I will cut them off," responded his mother, "And don't swear," she added as an afterthought as she finished polishing the silver candlesticks.
Disgruntled, Johnny swung his feet onto the ground just as Misha ambled into the room commenting, "Don't worry Johnny, she'd never do that. The blood would never come out of the carpet."
Johnny shot his sister a glare from beneath his messy hair and discreetly gave her the finger. Misha made a face then said in a sugar-coated voice, "Mummy, can I borrow Johnny for a second?"
There mother turned around to glance at them for a second, surprised by the question. Raising an eyebrow she shrugged and returned to dusting her collection of crystal ornaments.
"I don't see why not, he's not being of any use to me."
Johnny rolled his eyes and whined, "But Mum…"
"Johnny just go with your sister," responded their mother while Misha mouthed at him, "Garage roof."
Glaring at the bane of his life, Johnny hauled himself of the couch and slunk after his sibling. Once they were a safe distance from the living room Johnny swung her round by the shoulder and growled menacingly, "I thought the garage roof account was squared. You can't hold that over me again."
Misha rolled her eyes and said, "The only way you'll ever stop me from holding that over you is by getting rid of the damn stuff. Or finding something equally incriminating that I've done; although that will never happen because I'm not an idiot."
"You're an evil little thing, you know that?" he said wearily.
Misha just smiled and replied, "I do try."
Johnny couldn't help but smirk. She was a bitch, but he did love his sister in a perverse kind of way. Sighing he said, "Alright, what do you want."
That wicked smile lit up her face again and she said, "I've just had a call from Keira and I need your help…"
"Are you sure you don't mind me coming over like this?" asked Nessa restlessly.
Misha waved the question off and said, "I could do with the help anyway. You know I reckon the latest addition to our little group could have an evil-genius streak brilliant enough to rival my own."
Nessa blanched and laughed nervously. "That's actually kind of disturbing."
"Hey Ness," greeted Johnny as he entered Misha's room. He was dressed casually in trackies and hoodie. The blonde smiled at him then returned her attention to Misha who was typing away furiously at the keyboard on her desk.
"Oh my god!" exclaimed Nessa suddenly, "Where did you get that! It's so damn cute."
The Scottish girl grinned and said, "Just a little something Keira sent me."
"What is it?" asked Johnny gruffly, trying to see the monitor. Misha quickly closed the window and shook her head.
"Nuh uh, all I need from you is your credit card."
Sighing Johnny placed the shiny plastic card on the desk and slid it over to Misha. However when his sibling tried to pick it up he kept his fingers firmly on it.
"Johnny! Give it to me."
He reluctantly relinquished the object and scowled at her warning, "You better be careful with it. It's my money and I don't want someone scamming it all."
"Oh stop complaining, I said I'll reimburse you."
"And I'm supposed to trust you?" he snapped back.
"Johnny McGregor, I may make dirty deals, but have I ever once been dishonourable when it came to fulfilling them?" rebutted his little sister in a hurt tone. This shut Johnny up because as much as he hated to admit it she did have a point. Her methods may have been a bit dodgy, but she was always principled when it came to the actual interactions.
Nessa watched the transaction curiously and then asked, "Why are you using Johnny's card?"
Misha started typing again and said, "I don't have one."
"I could go get my credit card you know," offered the blonde already halfway to the door.
Misha grinned and said, "Oh that's alright, Johnny doesn't mind. I asked real nice."
"Asked?" growled Johnny angrily, "Blackmailed is more like it!"
Misha rolled her eyes and said, "Pft, they're practically synonymous. Dunno why you're getting flustered over the details of the situation."
"You're my effing sister! You're not supposed to blackmail me!"
"Eh, life's tough. Have a cookie and shut up," replied Misha calmly.
"Yeah, shut up Johnny!" repeated Nessa playfully, coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around his neck so she could rest her head on his shoulder and watch what Misha was doing.
Johnny did shut up but only because he was painfully aware of the girl leaning on him. He could feel her chest pressed against his back and her soft hair was gently brushing his face. She smelt kinda like flowers but not, like something you'd want to bury your head in and hold real close. He caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye and realised she was completely focused on the screen in front of them.
He mentally steadied himself and concentrated on breathing normally. He was intensely aware of her presence and her warmth. How could she be impervious? Oh yeah, the fact that they had known each other for years and she probably thought of him more as a surrogate brother than a teenage guy might have something to do with it. She was so used to his presence that she acted like he was a worn, comfortable slipper; always around and nice to slip on when your feet get cold.
Irritated with himself for being so affected by her when she obviously wasn't, he felt the sudden urge to leave and just get away from her. He abruptly asked, "Are you done with my card yet?"
Misha nodded and slid his card over to him without once taking her eyes of the screen. Johnny grabbed it and stuffed it in his pocket then extracted himself tersely from Nessa hold and left the room.
Nessa watched him leave with a frown. What had gotten into him?
Kai gazed at the shimmering waters of Bakuten Lake. It was an unseasonably warm day and he had opted to spend it outside rather than in the empty hallways of his grandfather's mansion. The teen leaned back deeper into the grassy hillside and closed his eyes, enjoying the sun.
Only four more weeks of freedom and then his grandfather was back.
Unlike most other kids his age he did not split his year up into school and holidays, he split it into times when his grandfather was here and times when his grandfather was away. He had never seen school as a bad thing, more of an occasionally interesting and rarely challenging way to pass the days and keep out of Voltaire's way.
His back was practically healed, just sometimes the scars felt tight and itchy. Although he was not proud or ashamed of the marks, he saw each one as a symbol of strength and defiance, a protest and a promise. Every day, every hour, every minute he was getting closer to his goal.
Suddenly he felt something bang into his side. There was a surprised cry and a girl fell down over him, her butt landing on his stomach and winding him. He was surprised to see it was Keira from his French class. She had obviously been walking backwards and hadn't seen him as she was staring at him in shock. She seemed to recover pretty quickly though and the first words out of her mouth were, "What the hell? Why are you hiding in the fucking grass? Are you just sitting there waiting to trip people up?!"
"What do you expect if you walk around backwards?" he growled back, all the time glaring at her because she was still sitting on him. Keira flinched slightly but returned the glare, deliberately getting up as slowly as possible. She made a show of brushing herself down and said, "I was not walking around backwards, I was taking a photo and… shit! Where's my camera?"
The brunette looked frantically in the long grass until Kai casually held out the sleek, silver Sony. She snatched it from him and started pressing buttons and fiddling with it, checking that it was not broken. When she was satisfied she turned around and held it up to her eye, taking a shot of the far side of the lake. Then she switched it off and slipped it into her bag. She was about to walk off without another word to Kai when hesaid, "You dropped these as well."
Keira glanced at him; he was now standing and holding something out in his hand. It was a rectangular, yellow package filled with photos; it must have fallen out of her bag. She tried to grab it from him but in an uncharacteristically childish move Kai whipped the envelope out of reach and flipped it open. Much to her annoyance he pulled out the photos and started thumbing through them, just to get her back for sitting on him and not apologising.
"Kai, give them here," she growled, her emerald eyes flashing dangerously.
However he ignored her, for what had started out as a quick flick through just to infuriate her had quickly slowed down considerably. Now he was looking through them with more care, quite impressed with the quality and creativity behind some of the shots. Although he didn't go round telling everyone he actually had quite an eye for art.
"These aren't half bad," he said, gazing at a picture of the fountain in Central.
Keira felt her face heating up; she always got embarrassed when people saw her work. It wasn't like she took photos for everyone to see, they were more of keepsakes, reminders of all the places she had been. She had been to a lot of beautiful places and a lot of ugly ones, but wherever she went she liked to find the things that made that particular spot unique and catch it on film. She felt silly trying to explain that to people so she preferred to just keep it to herself.
"Give them back or I'll kick your ass," she snarled with a mixture of anger and discomfort.
The tall teen gave her an amused look and said, "I'd like to see you try."
Keira raised an eyebrow indignantly and snapped, "Well unless I'm mistaken I already have once. I'm sure I can manage it again."
This got Kai's attention and he shot her a confused look.
Keira was pissed. Was he just going to pretend that he hadn't tried to feel her up at the party and then she had totally whipped him? When he just continued to gaze at her with slight confusion she said, "The party? You were being a total ass. I kicked your butt. Your friend Tala had to save you. Still drawing a blank?"
Kai looked away, his face closed. Keira laughed in disbelief, "You really don't remember anything do you? And here was me thinking you were just being a prick and not apologising because you didn't want everyone to know you'd been beaten by a girl."
"I was drunk," muttered Kai coldly.
"Ya think?" mocked the brunette, quickly grabbing her photos from him while he wasn't concentrating and tucking them safely in her bag. Having retrieved her things she turned to leave but a voice stopped her again.
"I'm not usually like that," said Kai in a quiet, strained tone.
Keira examined his face and said, "So your friend told me," but when Kai didn't say anything she added, "And I assume that's as good as I'm gonna get so apology accepted."
Kai maintained his silence and then after a few seconds started to wander off down the hill. Keira watched him go then turned and left in the opposite direction.
He sped down the dark, city streets like a wolf on the hunt. The adrenaline had the blood pumping in his ears; the danger had his body tensed and alert. He was completely in the zone; mentally blocking out the sound of the rowdy spectators until it was just him and the familiar roar of his bike. He leaned closer into his vehicle and his sharp eyesight picked out and identified the shadowy shapes looming out of the dark road. Swerving around the racer in front it registered somewhere in his subconscious that he was now in first place.
He was on the home run now, his goal was in sight and with a daring that was feared by some and respected by many he slammed down on the accelerator even harder until the world around him was just a blur.
The finish was in sight. 10 more seconds.
He hit the brakes with unbelievable precision and skidded to a halt just inches from the judge.
Tala Ivanov was a legend on the streets due to his skill and speed, and there was a reason for it.
He removed his helmet and the sounds of the world suddenly came filtering back in.
The crowd was going wild. People were cheering, dancing, collecting bets, getting drunk or high or doing anything else that would momentarily help them evade reality. The judge was saying something but the young man tuned it out, watching as the last of the racers passed the finish line.
Finally he was offered a black duffel bag. He opened the top and glanced inside, then satisfied with its contents he slung it over his shoulder and returned to his bike.
Before he could put on his helmet a female voice interjected, "Nice race Ivanov, but crowd wants something more than that. It's a stage and you gotta preform. They don't want some stone cold bastard who says nothing and does even less."
"Shut it Danielle. We've been through this. I won the race, got the money and that's all I need."
The pretty brunette sauntered closer and ran a finger down the length of his bike, and looked at him curiously from under dark lashes.
"You're good Tala, but with that attitude you'll never be great. Is this really just for the money? Are you sure you don't want the fame that would come if you ever made it out of this hellhole and onto the real race tracks? Because you could be famous, of that much I'm sure."
Tala pushed her away from his bike so he could get on. She stood a few paces back, her hand on her hip. It registered in the back of his mind that she had a great body and she looked really sexy in leather. The Halle Berry look.
"How about a little bet Ivanov? I'll race you to your place and if you win I'll do a little something special for you, but if I win you have to take my advice."
Tala watched as the girl got on her bike, then said impassively, "You'll never win."
Danielle revved her engine and gave him a wicked smile.
"I know."
They were fighting again. She could tell by the tone, the carefully preserved calm, low tone. It was their pathetic attempted to keep it from her.
Blaire snorted and brusquely unzipped her schoolbag, searching through it until she found her maths stuff. Grabbing her calculator from her desk she spread her things out on the bed and sprawled comfortably over the mattress. She flipped through her textbook until she found the chapter she was up to and then opened her exercise book to a fresh page. She was in the middle of ruling a straight red line down the side of the page when someone downstairs suddenly turned up the volume on the TV, her hand slipped in surprise and she grimaced when she saw the perfect margin had been ruined.
Sighing she pulled herself off the bed and strode over to her open door. She paused momentarily, listening to the voices floating up the staircase into her room. The conversation was an odd mix of some crappy re-make of a seventies film and the strained words from her parents. She didn't bother trying to understand what they were saying, she couldn't really care less. She just tried to ward off the impending depression that always managed to find its way into her whenever her parents fought.
The volume on the TV was turned up another few notches as her parent's conversation started to get louder. Feeling tears of helplessness gathering she quietly shut her door, slightly relieved that it muted the noise from downstairs.
She stared at her face in the full length mirror on her door. The whites of her eyes had gone an awful red colour with the effort of restraining her tears, and it made her irises look a vivid emerald. Roughly dashing away any moisture with her hand she sniffed and inspected the rest of her appearance.
She was definitely no high school beauty. Her straight, orange hair with its black streaks reached just below her shoulders and flicked out at the end. Her nose was small and slightly pointed and had a pair of black, rectangular glasses perched on top. A few freckles were dusted over her pale skin. She never tanned, instead she freckled. She couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her lips, and was surprised at how callous it sounded. Sighing once again, she pulled her dressing gown tighter and shuffled back to bed.
Flopping down she picked up a pencil and began to work through the complicated equations. Numbers found their way from her brain to her pencil to the page. Soon the white sheet was filled with neat columns of grey numbers, and still she kept working, loving the way they worked out so neatly. The equations always looked difficult to start, but with a little thought she always managed to figure them out.
Numbers were like that; so reliable, so comprehendible. She understood maths. She had never understood people. They were too unpredictable, capable of doing wild, unreasonable things. They could too easily hurt you, without even meaning to. That was why she stuck to her notes and calculator.
Maybe that was her problem though. She had met up with Miguel a few times since the party and she had really enjoyed spending time with him. He was great to talk to and always had fascinating stories to tell, plus he always listened to what she had to say. However whenever he tried to get closer, put his arm around her or even hold her hand, she felt herself stiffen up defensively. She couldn't stop the reaction, it just happened, she was wary of letting someone get too close to her. Miguel was sweet and patient and never said anything, but she couldn't help but wonder if he'd eventually give up on her. He was a teenage guy after all, and Blaire got the feeling that he didn't just have friendship in mind.
Suddenly thunder boomed through the air, so loud and close that it actually made the window frame tremble. The window was set into the roof and was more like a skylight and through it she could see the grey clouds that had amassed in the sky. A brief show of lightening and then the rain came pelting down. Hard and fast. Blaire pushed away her thoughts of Miguel and smiled contentedly. When she was young had always hated storms because they had meant she couldn't play outside, her most favourite thing in the world. Now she no longer spent much time outside anyway because... because she just didn't seem to have the energy these days. Now she loved storms because they drowned out the sounds from below, and for a while she could loose herself in the powerful, exhilarating feeling that came only in the midst of Mother Nature.
Pushing her school stuff of her bed, not caring how it landed, she curled up on top of her bedspread with her head resting on a pillow so she could see out her window to the dark skies and rain outside. Reaching a hand out, she switched of her lamp and then snuggled closer in on herself. Sleepily she let her leaden eyelids droop shut and listened to the steady thrum of the rain on the roof. The passing of time was only marked by the occasional crash of thunder, and otherwise she remained silent and still, simply listening, unsure of how long it took for her to finally drift off.
For after all, the best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
TK – You're writing again! That makes me so happy! Unfortunately I don't know a thing about Naruto because I've never seen it so it kinda doesn't interest me lol. But I'm still happy because I think the important thing is that you keep writing! You never know, maybe one day the inspiration for Purgatory will just return. Sometimes it works like that. Anyway, hope the plot bunnies start multiplying exponentially as bunnies are prone to do!
PRETTY AS A CAR CRASH – hehe… I'm proud of my half-decent grammar (so you should probably stop feeding my ego lol) and I do aim to write comprehendible sentences! Thnaks for the review!
s p r i n k l'f i s h – updating… often? Interesting idea that one… lol, I'm terrible when it comes to posting stuff regularly as you've probably picked up, but thanks for the encouragement despite my dreadful habits!
walkingdeathwish – I love Tala too! I hope you liked the little passage on him at the end!
black-lightning82 – soon is a relative term… so yeah, it took forever but here it is. I hope you liked and thanks so much for taking the time to review!
Ayesha Raees – lol, you make me blush! You say so many nice things and I feel unworthy… I'm sorry this took so long, but I kinda had issues with where to go from chapter 3 so yeah… I got there eventually!
Musee.Picasso – so much for my attempt at subtlety lol. Everyone seems to be cluing in on the fact that I wanna do a TalaxBlairexMiguel triangle. Thanks for the awesome review and actually saying stuff that means something, if you know what I mean… okay, that was a retarded sentence, but thanks anyway!
desustrus – hehe… you're on to me with Blaire. I thought some triangley goodness would be fun!
ravenfromhell17007 – hmm… you do have a point. I hope you enjoyed their little spat at the beginning of the chapter.
insanity-ward – I have officially decided your vote should count for more than one because you took the time to explain, thank you! You have swayed me with your wonderful if slightly insane logic (the best kind of logic if you ask me)
vanija – ye update be here!
darkxXxflames – so glad you liked!
Diet Soda – you make me laugh so hard! I love your reviews! Challenge accepted and already progress has begun! Not sure yet which chapter it will appear in but I'm aiming for very soon, lol.
catsy – toodles for taking the time to help me decide!
the perfect oasis – I'm glad you think its worthwhile. I know what you mean and totally agree. Some people on this site really need to revise their grammar. Not saying I'm perfect, but there's a point where it can become unreadable.
bobbertthebobette – Your review totally made my day! Made me laugh as well! So yeah, he's not a Russian prostitute, but I reckon hardcore street racer is pretty sweet. Tala… mmm… hotness… lol.