Review. That's all I shall say.

Oh, and Rose lost her memory. You'll see.

Heh heh heh.

One

"What do you think about this dress, Liss?"

"Well..." Vasilisa Dragomir, my best friend and maid of honor, tilted her head to the side, examining the floofy and intricate ivory dress. "I liked the other one better. You know, the one with the gold?" she said.

"I agree." I said, taking one last look in the mirror and drawing the dressing room curtains shut around me. "Liss!" I yelled. "I can't untie it," I whined.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," she said, laughing as she untied the annoying corset.

"Why did we bother doing this up?" I asked.

"I don't know. I though it would be pretty," she sighed.

"How many more dresses do we have?"

"We?" she said, laughing. "Last time I checked, you were the only one getting married," she said, smiling wistfully. Her longtime boyfriend, Christian Ozera, had yet to propose. Poor girl.

"True," I sighed. "How many more dresses do I have to try on?"

"Two." She said. "The white one with the red and the sparkly one,"

"Hm," I said. "I remember distinctly saying to get rid of the sparkly one," I said, raising my eyebrows.

"Fine." She huffed. "It would've looked so good on you..."

"I, Rose Hathaway, will never, ever wear sparkles." I stated.

"Suit yourself," she sighed. "And it would've looked so pretty on you."

"Psh." I said. "No sparkles. Can I try on the red one now?" It was pretty, and so me. It was skin-tight, slightly reflective ivory, and it had a crimson belt-thing around the waist. Well, not a belt, but like a red ribbon that ties. Or whatever. She slipped the smooth fabric over my head, quickly and skillfully tying the corset and fastening the ribbon. I stepped out of the dressing room, assessing myself in the giant mirror.

"I love it." I stated. It was simple, but beautiful. Perfect.

"It's so...you." Lissa said, smiling and clasping her hands together. "Perfect."

"How much is it?" I asked the attendant lady. She looked up from her pile of fabric, precariously setting it down and walking over to the many racks of dresses. She told us the price, and I looked at Lissa for approval. The wedding was, literally, her gift to me. I hadn't asked, and I felt awful letting her spend so much damn money on me...but she had insisted. She nodded, handing the lady her credit card.

I shook my head. "You have a limitless amount of money, don't you?"

"Mm," she mumbled. "Maybe." Lissa's parents had died a few years ago in a car accident. I, luckily, had gotten sick the day of the car accident, so I had narrowly avoided death. I had been there for Lissa, though, and we've pretty much been even more inseparable ever since. Her parents had left her all of their money, as she had no living siblings, and Lissa's parents had been...wealthy. Ridiculously so. So, now, Lissa was the rich one. It so wasn't fair, either, because she had that perfect runway model image. She was tall and willowy, model-thin without trying. She was fair, with pale, straight blond hair and jade green eyes. My total opposite; I had dark, nearly black, brown hair, and eyes that were a few shades lighter. My skin was about the same color as the inside of an almond, and I was five-six. I supposed we balanced each other well.

"Do you think Adrian will like the dress?" I asked, fingering the satin bow.

"He'll love it," she said. "Of course, he loves you in...well, anything." She giggled.

"Miss?" the attendant asked timidly, clutching the credit card and bill to her chest. "Can you sign here, please?" Lissa nodded, taking the pen and signing with a flourish. We specified the size and colors and whatnot, and we were on our way out to the car. I opened the door, climbing in the driver's seat and starting the engine, smiling when I heard the loud rumble. Lissa rolled her eyes at my eccentric present from Adrian - a red Lamborghini. She despised it, but I absolutely loved it.

"I hate this car," she said, further proving my thoughts.

"I know." I smiled. "Where do we go next?" the one condition of Lissa's limitless endorsements was that she got to be the wedding planner.

I swear, I would never understand that girl's mind.

"Cake shop." She said. "We need to pick out a ca-Ah!"

"Shit!" I said, almost hitting some random tall guy on the street. I climbed out of the car, inspiring lots of honks from cars behind me. "Oh, fuck off!" I said. Then, to the tall dude, "What the Hell?" I yelled. "You could've wrecked my car!"

"My apologies," he said with a light Russian accent. On any other day, when he hadn't almost caused my car's death? I would've called him hot. And, you know, if I wasn't currently engaged.

"Still, you don't fucking waltz in front of people's cars!" I continued ranting. "I've apologized, haven't I?" he said.

"Yeah, whatever." I huffed.

"May I ask your name?" he said hesitantly, like the fate of the world rested on my name.

"Rose." I said. "Hathaway."

A carefully composed look befell his face. "My apologies once again, Rose Hathaway." He gave me a tiny bow.

"Wait," I said. "What's your name?" I demanded angrily. If he was going to know my name, then, dammit, I would know his.

"Dimitri Belikov."

Dimitri Belikov...

Why was that so...familiar?

I shook it off. "Next time, I run over you."

Ehkay, so that was more of a chapter-ette. The next one will be longer. :D

Mkay, and, also - incase you missed it - Rose hasn't been this way all her life. She lost her dhampir memories.

Neat, huh?

Well, I won't ruin the plot any further...

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Eh, I might end up deleting this. Oh, well.

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OKay, so yeah.

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