So, in two weeks time Chelsea found herself heaving luggage into a dull yellow taxi, which had acquired ugly brown rust marks near the tires from it's years of relentless service.

Because she was still more than a little bitter about being forced out of her home, she hadn't surrendered her ownership to Adrian until the last possible minute. Waltzing into his office fifteen minutes prior to when the cab she called was supposed to arrive, belongings in tow, she had tossed her keys in his direction with a lazy flick of her wrist. Much to her concealed joy, they had landed squarely in his cup of (most likely instant) coffee. To his credit, his only betrayal of immediate anger was how he had crumpled his now soggy pile of paper work.

Fantastic start to the day, she thought with a smile of smug self satisfaction.

Chelsea had sold everything, save for the bare necessities and her pottery wheel(which required it's own pair of movers to...well, move) and thankfully had enough to buy her a general admission ticket to the Ferry. As a result, the remaining of her possessions could now snugly fit into two twin olive green duffel bags.

Sandwiching herself into the backseat between her bags, Chelsea glanced down to the wadded piece of scrap stationary in her hand that had the address of the dock hastily scribbled upon it.

"Hi, uh Perk Ports, 324 Hurley Street." Remembering her barely there manners, she sputtered in a quick "Please."

Rolling his cigarette between his lips to the opposite side of his mouth, the driver gave a low grunt of acknowledgment started the car with an ungraceful lurch.

Since her destination was on the other side of the suburban town, she guessed she had roughly an hour, hour and a half drive to look forward to. She took the time to allow herself to think about what was yet to come.

Ugh, cue the cheesy inspirational music.

Joking aside, she was scared. From what Mark had told her Sunshine Island was a quaint little community where everyone knew each other. Where everyone knew Mark.

Don't get her wrong, Chelsea loved Mark. He was her closest friend throughout a majority of her life. The thing is, he acted as if everyone shit glitter and exhaled rainbows. That the world was a glorious, magical place where dreams came true.

He was very much a glass half-full kind of guy. Now, Chelsea didn't see the glass as half empty per say, but she was definitely not, by any means, as optimistic as him. Her sarcasm and sass were usually interpenetrated as qualities of a pessimist though.

Feeling like a high school freshman all over again, she worried about whether or not the inhabitants of the island would like her. What a childish thing to consider, but she couldn't help it.

Chances were they loved Mark, and he had told them about his city embracing cousin coming to live with him. Since he is the biggest sweetheart there ever was, he probably talked her up and set a pretty high standard. Would they assume she lived up to such an expectation? An equally peppy person with a sparkling personality? .

She started to pick at the fraying strings on the edge of the ever growing hole in her jeans. A nervous habit she'd picked up earlier on in life. At the back of her mind, she heard Aunt Claire scolding her "Chelsea cut it out. You'll wreck them". Smiling slightly, she snatched her hand away and clasped both in the middle of her lap.

The smell of crisp air filled with sea salt interrupted her thought. Glancing over towards the window, she saw a huge metal ramp leading up to an even bigger boat. Only a few scattered people were entering at this point, last minute passengers like herself.

"Keep the change," she said while slapping a couple of bills into the drivers hand.

Jaywalking across the busy street, she made a mad-dash towards the segway to her new life. She dodged on coming traffic and waved away a sluggish looking teenager handing out flyers for his band's upcoming show.

Approaching the dock, Chelsea noticed a couple in their prime, greeting their daughter who had presumably, just arrived via the previous Ferry. She saw how the girls father hugged her close to his chest. She saw her mothers tearing eyes from emotional moment. She saw how happy the girl was to be home, to be with the people who raised her. Loved her.

Chelsea half walked, half ran up the ramp. Clearly not paying attention to where she placed her feet, she tripped over a narrow groove in the floor and proceeded to metaphorically and literally, eat dirt.

First thing to make contact with the cold, harsh, unforgivably painful floor was her elbows. The impact sparked a fierce fire in her shoulders. They were soon after followed by her stomach, knees, and feet. It looked like she was making a really bad attempt at "the worm". She would have laughed at her own personal ribbing if every single ounce of breath hadn't been knocked out of her.

A low whistle made it to her ears."Yikes, quite the accident you had here, Doll." Without her even realizing it, a middle-aged woman had made her way towards her little crash site. She was dressed in a crisp white shirt with blue trimming and matching pants. Over her heart she adorned roughly a dozen or so official looking pins. Her graying hair had a sailors had perched upon it.

Going out on a limb, Chelsea guessed she was the Captain.

"No, no accident. I was actually just testing the laws of gravity." Chelsea deadpanned.

"Well, smart ass comments are usually a good sign. You don't seem to be hurt too bad." The Captain crouched to Chelsea's level. Her limbs felt a little rubbery. She didn't want to risk standing up only to fall all over again.

Gingerly, she rolled shoulders to test their mobility. Hopefully they'd still be able to carry the extra weight of her bags.

Speaking of which...

Craning her neck and looking around, she couldn't catch sight of her things. "Miss, or, uh Captain. Miss Captain." The woman grinned at her obvious display of not knowing how to address her person. "Do you happen to know... Where my bags went?"

"Call me Janet," The woman offered. "And yes, your cargo slid down the -no, don't get up. Someone's carrying them to you as we speak."

Her suggestive tone peaked Chelsea's interest. Casting her gaze towards the bottom of the slanting terrain, she saw that Janet spoke the truth. He was tall, roughly 6'2, and wore a sandy vest over a black dress shirt with dark wash jeans. A Stetson the colour of milk chocolate covered his moonlight silver hair. The pair of cowboy boots he wore completed his Western outfit.

Pft. Screw the getup. Chelsea thought. He would be attractive wearing dingy rags. The closer he came, the more apparent that little fact became. His strong jaw line, perfectly curved nose, and, oh my God are his eyes-?

"Here." The target of her mental ogling huffed.

Purple. Dumbstruck for half a second but recovering quickly, she quickly snatched her bags from the ground before they had a chance to roll back down. Trusting her legs not to buckle, she lifted herself up to her feet. To her disappointment, he had tipped his hat down to cover his Adonis-worthy face.

"Thanks, who knew that luggage didn't obediently wait by a persons side while they face-planted?" Shut up Chelsea, that was a horrible.

But to her complete and utter shock, she saw the corners of his mouth lift just a tiny fraction. It was probably a pity smile, but she'd take it.

"Well Vaughn, I didn't peg you as the chivalrous type." Janet commented coyly.

His mouth dropped into hard line while his violet eyes shot Janet an icy stare.

"Don't you have a ship to sail?" And with that, he entered the grand Ferryboat.

"Oh ho ho, he's a tad testy." Chelsea remarked. "You two know each other?"

Chuckling, Janet accompanied Chelsea to the entrance and punched her ticket in for her.

"He's a regular passenger. Does deliveries to small towns. I learned a while back not to take his talk to heart. He's like that with everybody, I just can't resist egging him on sometimes though."

"I'll make a mental note of that then, could come in handy for future reference. I'm Chelsea, by the way." She mentally kicked herself for not mentioning that sooner.

The pair had made it to the main lobby which divided itself into four separate halls. Janet pointed her in the general direction of her room, said a quick goodbye, and turned down the opposite hallway. Most likely towards the bow of the ship.

Finding her room in no time at all, Chelsea threw her stuff onto the bunk and awaited departure. Soon after, she heard three sharp blares of a horn, indicating that they were finally setting sail.

It didn't take Chelsea long to get bored. Not long at all. Like, seven minutes tops. Already having a short attention span, just sitting in a cramped room with even less stuff than her dusty old apartment nearly drove her mad.

Thumb twiddling can only go so far.

Why not go on a little adventure? She left the cabin and locked the door behind her. She made a point to remember the fact that there was portrait of a woman with teal hair outside her room. It would act as breadcrumb, reminding her where her room was. Chelsea had an awful habit of forgetting where things where.

Lightly treading through the quite halls, she walked aimlessly with no destination in mind. To her dismay, much of the ship looked exactly the same. Thinking all hope was lost, she almost returned to her room before she saw it.

Her saving grace.

A light at the end of a tunnel.

The silver lining.

A bar.

Oh happy day! It was a beautiful, with red velvet stools lined up in front of a gorgeous wooden island that had intricate designs chiseled into its dark surface. Soft classical music played in the background that made everything in the room seem sultry and sexy. A crystal chandelier illuminated the room with a soft glow. A handful of tables looked a little out of place in the middle of the maroon rug covered floor.

Right, and it also had booze.

The space was only being taken advantage of by an elderly couple sitting at one of the tables, and a man slouching in a corner at the bar.

He was sipping from a tall glass of white colour liquid, his eyes scoping the room. It was the very moment that violet met blue, when she realized who he was.

The handsome stranger from earlier, Vaughn.

Bonus. Thought Chelsea.

Never one for being shy, she trudged on over to the seat right next to him. She ordered a Coke mixed with Rum, and swiveled her seat to face Vaughn, her arm propped against the ledge.

She chose to ignore the fact that he shifted away slightly.

"Hey, you're Vaughn. Janet's friend, right?" Chelsea asked innocently.

"Wrong. We're not friends." He nearly sneered the word.

Not fazed by his temper, she calmly rephrased, "Okay, okay. Let me try this again: Hey, you're Vaughn, that cute guy I met for about two seconds who was kind enough to help out while I was busy, you know, wiping my face with the floor."

She shot him a toothy grin as he coughed up some of the drink he had been in the middle of swallowing. She knew she was making him uncomfortable, but made no attempt to render the situation.

"Go away." He growled, finally finding his voice.

She took a delicate sip of her drink. "No. I don't think I will. What is that your drinking?" Changing the subject in a less than subtle way.

"Milk."

She stared at him incredulously.

He stared back, challenging her to say something.

"I thought it looked too thin to be a pina colada." She replied smoothly.

She watched him drain the glass, his Adams-apple shifting back and forth within his throat. He motioned for a refill, and turned to face her.

"Look, if I had known that doing you that favour would have lead up to this," He gestured to the air between them, "Believe me, I would have gladly just let your shit roll on by."

"Really?" she asked, leaning towards him.

He mimicked her action, his face so close she could see his five o'clock shadow sprouting on his lovely, angled chin.

"Without hesitation." He said in a low voice.

Leaning closer still, so she was whispering beside his ear, "Then why are you still here?"

"That," he answered moving away from her,"is an excellent question."

"Really? You think it's up there with "How do they get the jelly inside of the powdered doughnut?" 'Cause I think that sets the standard prett-y high." She saw him crack a grin at that one, thankfully no longer looking like he wanted to ditch her.

That much.

She recalled the conversation she had with the Captain earlier on in the evening. "Janet told me you make deliveries to places for a living?"

He nodded once. "Usually animals, sometimes equipment."

"For, like, farms and stuff?" Chelsea asked, connecting a couple of mental dots.

"...Yeah."

"Does your route include Sunshine Island?" she asked.

"...Yeah." He seemed to sense where this conversation was going. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of being right.

"Good to know. Well," She said, beginning to rise from her seat. "I'll be seeing you around. It's about time for me to retire." It wasn't, but she wanted to be the one to leave first, not him. She sent a wink his way, which he responded to by lowering the lip of his hat.

"Stop that, it's criminal for a face like yours to be hidden from the public eye." Not bothering to see his reaction to her words, she paid her tab and turned towards the exit.

"What's your name?" He boldly called out to her.

"That, is an excellent question." she taunted, without looking back.

A/N Jeebus, I've been trying to edit the content in this chapter for, like, ever. But nooooo Error 2 just wouldn't have it. Chapter 3 is currently a work in progress, and I know this story is pretty rough, but in my defence, it's unbeta'd. I know I should probably invest my time into looking for one, but I don't really see myself as a good enough writer to get one, which is ironic 'cause like, that's what they do? Make writers better.

So, again reveiws are really welcome and thank you so much to those of you who have :) Hey, wanna do the same system for you too-lazy-to-actually-write-anything people? I know your out there. O.o

1- Not too shabby dearest writer, good job.

2- You suck. You should be ashamed for writing such a horrible excuse for literature.

3- Eh, I'm a fence sitter. I don't know yet if I like your story or not, so you should really hurry up and update. Sheesh.

4- I like turtles.