Hey everyone,

Welcome to the first chapter of No Name Face . It's been a tough story write...let me tell you Stiles isn't very Stiles like and Derek isn't very Derek like (It's what happens when you start a story with completely different characters in mind)...but hopefully you'll enjoy this story anyways and give we the thumbs up that you want more. I think/hope every chapter has a song and most of the time Derek will be featuring them in the chapter, but this chapter gets to be unique and different. I hope to when i release more chapter create a youtube playlist of all the songs i featured, but i figured i had a little time because so far only one song has been used.

Now, i hope it's not to much to ask but please Read, Review, Alert, Fav, and Enjoy (you don't have to do all those things, but i certainly hope you do)

~Kai

No Name Face

Chapter One

He hadn't planned it out this way because if he had things would have been different. Things would have been better. He would have been happier. He just would have been so much more.

But of course, this was just the way things went. This just turned out to be the only way things could be and this was nowhere near how he had envisioned his life going. The thought had never even crossed his mind that he would be forced to give it all up. He never thought that he would be giving up on his dream.

He had been exactly who he thought he wanted to be. He liked being the person that at one time couldn't walk down the street without someone calling out his name and asking him, with excitement in their voices for his autograph. He had been somebody and he had loved that everyone knew it.

Now he was just like everyone else, a nobody. He wasn't anybody, not anymore.

But that could be perhaps because everyone who thought they once knew him now he thought he was technically dead.

He hustled off the airplane's jet way, his backpack slung over one shoulder and his guitar case in the opposite hand. His eyes were shielded with a pair of large aviator type sunglasses that had bright golden frames as he quickly stepped off the jet way and into one of the airport's many terminals.

He tilted his head up and gazed through the dark lenses at that the pictographic representation that pointed him in the direction of the baggage claim. He stopped once in an attempt to adjust his backpack's strap upon better upon his shoulder, but it failed and slipped back into the place where it had previously been.

The droning of a nearby television that was situated in one of the many airport lounges caught his attention and he halted his pace suddenly.

"Breaking news, pop star Derek Hale is missing and presumed dead a few weeks after a large fire that claimed his entire family. If you have any information on his whereabouts or if you know that he is alive please contact the authorities at ..." The anchor news women said stiffly as she pushed a pile of papers back and forth along her desk, while she stared intently at the camera.

Derek rolled his eyes as he pulled the hood up of his gray sweatshirt over his head. He knew he had to lay low for awhile. But that was the reason he came all the way out here because how could you not lay low in a place like Beacon fucking Hills. Yep, that's right he had exiled himself to the one place that would be the closest to hell he could get without actually being in hell.

The escalator moved slowly as it transported him to the baggage claim area, and to a large group of people, who were waiting anxiously for their loved ones to return safely to them. Quickly Derek scanned the crowd. He wasn't sure what they looked like or that they would even bother to pick him up.

He wetted his lips nervously as he continued to scan the thinning crowd. His gaze fell upon a girl with long straight chestnut brown hair and a sullen look spread across her face, while she bounced back and forth balls of her feet. He couldn't be positive that that was his cousin, but it was the easiest place to start.

Her gaze quickly fell upon his as he drew nearer. Slowly she tilted her head to the side as if she was trying to give him the once over, which was probably difficult because he looked like the Unabomber.

He reached his free hand up and yanked the hood back off his head as he slowly approached her.

"Derek?" She asked slowly as if the name sounded foreign to her, which it probably did. Derek had only met his cousin a couple of times, so they had never really gotten a chance to get to know one another.

He nodded his head up and down and he watched her shoulder's slump in relief.

"That's great to hear. I wasn't sure who I was looking for and since you, you know, need to remain discrete I couldn't really make a sign." She chuckled and Derek nodded his head up and down again. He was still unsure what he should say.

He hadn't seen his cousin since they were both infants and now he was moving in with her and her mother. This was defiantly going to be different then the life he had led previously.

"Where's your mom?" He muttered, finally finding his voice.

The girl stared at him for a long moment and pursed her lips as she pointed over behind Derek, who turned and was engulfed in a tight hug. His first reaction was to pull away, but quickly he changed his mind and lightly tapped the women's back with his free hand.

She released him and took a small step back and looked him over, which made Derek self conscious. His aunt, stood tall, at a height just slightly higher than average, which made her eye level with him. Unlike her daughter, who was a couple inches shorter than both them. She had long strait hazelnut brown hair that hung in loose curls down to her shoulder blades. Her eyes a light forest green shone brightly in excitement as they stared at each other for a long moment.

"It's been such a long time Derek, I'm so glad to see you. Though I do wish it had been under better circumstances." She said sorrow and pity evident in her voice made Derek once again feel uncomfortable.

He didn't want to talk about the circumstances of why he had come to this hell-hole, nor did he want his aunt to pity him. He had had enough of that.

"Laura, help Derek with his things." His aunt turned to her daughter and Laura nodded as she reached out to grab Derek's guitar case.

"Ah, no. I think I got it. But thanks." He muttered as he looked away and at the floor as if embarrassed by not excepting there help this one time.

"Well alright, but let's get home. I'm sure you're tired and you have to start school in the morning." His aunt said excitedly and Derek looked back up at her feeling confused.

"What? You're seventeen and that means if you don't go to school people will be after me asking questions about you. I'm sure you don't want that." She said sternly and Derek nodded his head.

"Your right, I just want to blend in." He said quietly and his aunt reached out and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

The moment between them lasted a couple moments longer as people hurried past them to greet their own family members. Finally the three of them turned and walked out to the parking garage.

Derek had anticipated that it would be cold in Beacon Hills due to it being November and all, but he hadn't been prepared for the blast of cold air that surrounded him and snatched the heat right out of his body. He shivered and attempted to pull his sweatshirt even tighter around his lean body as he shuffled after his aunt and his cousin. They travelled down a small path designed for pedestrians searching helplessly for their car, but they obviously knew where they were going as they led the way.

Suddenly his aunt stopped abruptly in front of a small dark blue VW Jetta. Derek's first thought when he realized this was his aunt's car was would they all fit. Sure he packed light and this made him glad he did, but would his guitar case even fit in the trunk?

"Mom, pop the trunk." Laura said as she tapped the trunk with her hand. Her mother nodded and pushed the key into the lock and gave it a harsh twist.

"Sometimes the lock sticks." She muttered in Derek's direction, but he wasn't sure if it was actually really directed at him.

The trunk popped open and she gestured to Derek to stow his guitar and backpack. Derek looked into the depths of the empty trunk, and then reluctantly lifted his guitar case up and set it gently placed it in. He then shifted it slightly and his backpack slid off his shoulder. He held it by its strap and then repeated the process he had done with his guitar case.

He flinched when Laura slammed the trunk close once he had finished and headed for the front passenger seat. He didn't protest, in fact he wanted it this way because this would give him sometimes to himself, even if it was short. He pulled open backseat door on the driver's side and slid in side. He folded his hands up into his lap and gazed out the window. All that was there to see though was rows of cars in various models, brands, and colors.

His aunt pulled the car out of parking garage quickly and Derek stared out the window taking in the blurred sights. He doubted he was actually missing much because what could there really be to see. He sighed and leaned his head against the window.

This wasn't what he had planned, but nothing ever seemed to be those days. He had had it all, and now he had lost it all. Maybe it would all be worth it, but doubt clouded his mind. He was lost, that much he knew and who bothered to salvage something that what was beyond repair?

"Derek!" Laura's shrill voice startled him as he jerked awake, realizing that the car ride had ended and that they were at him new home. He blinked a few times trying to push the sleep out of his eyes as he gazed around at the suburban home. It looked exactly like a cliché.

The house had white trim that hugged tightly around the red weathered brick façade that was just for show. A long porch jutted around the corner of the house that butted up incredibly close to the neighbors, on the other side was the attached two car garage, but instead of parking in it they just pulled up and parked in front of it.

As Derek climbed out of the car he noticed the white picket fence that circled around the perimeter until it transformed into a high tall cedar fence that concealed the backyard from the view of the next door neighbors. It had been just like how Derek had picked it would be, and that was the problem. He didn't want it to be like this. He wasn't into the uniformed thing. In fact that was one of things he hated most. He liked spontaneity, and this house had none of that.

Derek walked around to the trunk of the car and waited patiently for his aunt to come around and unlock the trunk. He noticed immediately that Laura had already disappeared into the house turning on the porch light before she slammed the door.

He watched lights begin to shine through the windows as he stood by the trunk, while his aunt opened it and pulled out the guitar and backpack, handing each of them over to Derek carefully.

"Come on. I have something I need to discuss with you. It's important that you know and the sooner the better." His aunt said and Derek nodded his head up and down in agreement.

Together they crossed the driveway and walked up the steps to the porch. Each step creaked loudly upon their added weight, but they didn't notice as they pulled open the front door and walked inside. Derek hadn't really been expecting much when it came to the interior of the house. He knew he had been in this house at least once in his youth, but he hadn't remembered it and it was bound to have changed over time.

The entryway was stunning with its dark red cherry wood banister that led to the upstairs and with its bright white gold chandelier with an assortment teardrop shaped crystals that dangled beautifully and caught the light making it scatter and dance along the entryway's high walls.

He turned his gaze abruptly from the chandelier when he noticed his aunt beckoning him to follow her into the kitchen, which was down the hall and through an archway. The kitchen looked just as beautiful as the entryway did.

The kitchen was a burnt crème color that contrasted well with the dark granite counter tops that were flecked with an assortment of colors, such as black, brown, grey, gold, and white. They weaved together harmoniously. The white cabinets curled around the kitchen being interrupted by the occasional appliance like the refrigerator and the archway that they had passed through.

His aunt quickly took a seat at a round table that was settled just off the kitchen, with it not evening being in a separate room. Derek swallowed as he moved over towards the table, placing his things on the ground beside the chair he pulled out and sat down.

For a long moment the two of them just stared at each other. Both seemed to be unsure what to say to one another. Derek didn't want his aunts comforting words and his aunt didn't seem to have any comforting words to give.

"Alright, I'll just get right to it then." His aunt said as she sighed in exhaustion, while Derek looked down at the table, nodding his head once again in agreement. "I first want to tell you that I'm glad you're here. Taking you in is in no way burdening us. I just wanted you to know that."

Derek looked up, surprised at the statement she had just made, "Thank you." He muttered in a low voice as if he was uncertain, which he was, but not about that.

"I need you to know that there are rules in this house, and I expect you to follow them." His aunt trailed off as she watched Derek shift uncomfortably in his chair. "I need you to know that you can now no longer come and go as you please. There is a curfew on weekdays, which is lifted only on the weekends. You cannot just invite everyone over. They must be people you know and have met from school or work or excreta. There will be absolutely no drug use under this roof. Have I made myself clear?" She looked at him expectedly.

"Alright, that sounds reasonable. Also, just so you know I've never actually done drugs." He said in agreement as he pushed out his chair and stood back up. He bent down quickly and scooped out up his things and waited patiently for her to point him in the direction of his new bedroom.

His aunt seemed surprise that he had taken the rules so well because she blinked at him a couple of times before pointing towards the stairs that led to the basement. "Laura and I figured you would want some privacy to play your music." She said a small smile spreading across her lips.

"Thank you, that's very considerate. I appreciate it." He said trying to sound sincere, but it had been so long, he wasn't sure if he pulled it off.

He turned quickly and headed down the stairs towards the basement and his room. He felt his guitar case slap against his side as he walked down the carpeted steps. At the bottom of the stairs he saw a small sitting type room with a large flat screen television across from a brown worn out couch that had red patches covering up the fraying corners.

Off to the left was another door and Derek looked inside. This was defiantly his bedroom, and he took a hesitant step forward and flicked on the light.

The room was small, but Derek felt a comfortable vibe creep through him as he took another step inside and fully scoped out the room.

The room had a long row of book shelves, which were interrupted by a small window that couldn't even open, nor really even let any light in. On the other side of the room from the bookcases was a large green futon that was currently folded out into a bed instead of a couch. While a large overly stuffed blue upholster recliner chair that looked like if you sat in you would sink and never resurface, sat beside it and next to the book shelves.

Derek set down his backpack upon the futon and slowly walked over to the bookcase surveying them more closely. He was surprised to find many literature classics such as The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger, and Jane Eyre by one of the Bronte sister, who name's escaped him. The other end of the spectrum of the books that were placed in the book case were books about aviation and a horribly large amount of albums dedicated to stamp collecting. He gently leaned his guitar case up against the book shelf as he trudged back over to the green futon and flopped down on it.

He reached over and pulled one of pillows over and buried his face in it. This hadn't been what he wanted or expected. How had he somehow ended up in his own personal hell? What had he done in a past life that had been so horrible that had made him be exiled to Beacon Hills, otherwise known as the land in the middle of fucking nowhere?

Once again, he was a nobody and after he had gone through all of that to actually become a somebody. One stupid decision and he had lost it all and he was sure there was no way for him to get it back. Derek sighed as he moved the pillow away from his face, so he could stare at the ceiling.

Even after having been up for more than twenty four hours Derek didn't feel tired. Actually, for the first time in ages Derek felt safe. But still he pondered what he had done in a past life to deserve this type of punishment.

Maybe things would start to look up? But he doubted it because that just wouldn't be in the cards he had been dealt.

I do not deal the cards and I play a lousy hand
I celebrate no victories and my promises are sand

Song Used: Maybe Tomorrow Is A Better Day Artist: Poets of The Fall