An Unscheduled Meeting (Dee)

[Clark Dupont]

Clark was wondering around the second floor desperately trying to find where he could get his schedule. He was, as he always was, listening to his music. Music had always been a passion of his, even from an early age. He had grown up listening to the smooth sounds of Jamaican Rasta rock, thanks to his many nannies, along with the classic rock staples like The Beatles, and Led Zeppelin. His mother infused a knowledge of classical and Jazz into his musical education, while his sister added modern independent. His first instrument had been the saxophone, which he began playing in the fifth grade. After two years of suffering through his school’s orchestra, he introduced himself to the guitar, and well, the rest was history. He taught himself how to read and write musical notes, and began to create his own melodies. After fully mastering the guitar in his freshman year, he had decided to teach himself the drums. He was slowly getting better, though his true love would always lie with his guitar. He had been in a pretty decent band back in the city, and they had even begun to book gigs at some of the major music pubs on the Lower East Side. He was crushed when he learnt he was going to have to leave it all behind.

Clark held his headphones so that the speakers were completely pressed over his ears. He allowed himself to drown in the music, and he began to walk, ever so slightly, in time to his music. He let all of his stress flow out through his body as his song hit a crescendo. One of the reasons he was able to keep such a cool demeanor was because of his music. It consistently proved to be a release for him, and once he committed something that bothered him down on paper or in song it no longer bothered him. It would be a stretch to say that nothing bothered him, but he just seemed to possess one of those personalities that wasn’t disturbed by the small things. He smiled sadly to himself as he thought of his sister. Back when he had still known her, she had allowed even a slightly uneven shoelace to ruin her day. He hadn’t spoken much to her in the past couple of years, but from what he gathered she was still exactly the same.

It was right as his song started to pick up that he noticed a flash of movement. A bouncy blonde head was turning into a classroom. Clark ran to catch up with her before she entered the room. He needed to seize his chance for she seemed to be the only human on the entire floor. So much for this being such a largely populated school. “Hey!” he shouted over his music, “Hey! Wait!” He gently grabbed her shoulder just as her hand hit the doorknob. “Hello!” he yelled before a sheepish smile overtook his face as turned off his iPod and he removed his headphones so that they rested around his neck. “I mean, hello,” he said at a normal volume, “I was wondering if you knew where I could pick up a copy of my schedule. I’m new, I mean, well,” the girl he was speaking to was quite attractive, “I’m a transfer student, and I can’t seem to find anyone else in the building. I guess no one wants to be in school on the weekends, huh?”

[Diana White]

Diana sighed. This day had become way too long for her liking. With her dark skinny jeans over shiny silver flats and her We the Kings shirt, she didn't look like she belonged here. Not with everyone walking around in Prada and Gucci purses, at least. She had always stuck out at her old school, but at least there, there were others who stuck out like she did. It wasn't even a private school. But here, the girls were air-headed bimbos, and the only thing that they seemed to want to talk about was how richer they were than everyone else, and how many boys they kissed that summer. They were in High School, didn't they have anything better to talk about? Like maybe a good book, or a play that was showing? Diana rolled her eyes at the thought. What would they talk about, Dr. Seuss? She walked down the hall, humming softly to herself as she ran her fingers through her curly locks absently. In her other hand, she held a folder full of papers, her 'work'. Today, she was planning on going to see the English 4 teacher to see what she thought about them. She turned the corner, finding the room easily.

She placed her hand on the door knob, and only a second after she realized that it was locked, she heard a voice. A very loud, shouting voice. Her green eyes widened from shocked as she jumped; resulting from a hand touching her shoulder. How had she missed the screaming boy, with earphone in his ears playing so loud that she could make out the tune. Of course, that might have been because she was so musically inclined. “Hey! Wait! Hello!” She cringed slightly at how loud he was, but her features softened as he took out the defeaning headphones. His iPod matched her own, an iPod video. Diana's gaze traveled up to a very handsome face, but what almost made her catch her breath were his piercing blue eyes. They were quite breathtaking, which was quite something as Diana was hardly aware of such things. it wasn't that she was oblivious, she just didn't usually find human features attractive.

“I mean, hello. I was wondering if you knew where I could pick up a copy of my schedule. I’m new, I mean, well, I’m a transfer student, and I can’t seem to find anyone else in the building. I guess no one wants to be in school on the weekends, huh?” Ah, so he was a transfer student as well? How interesting. Diana's lips parted as she smiled to him, revealing a perfect set of pearly whites. "Oh! well, 'ello to you too. The office usually closes around six, but I think if you hurry, you could make it. I could even show you, if you'd like." Dee offered, her slight English accent poking through. "I'm a transfer, too. Diana White." She greeted him cordially. She always believed that first impressions were important, so she was patient with him. how could she not be? Diana had already had to find out all about the school practically on her own, so why should this bloke have to?

[Clark Dupont]

Now that he had finally caught her attention, Clark had the time to fully take in the girl’s appearance. She was blonde, like most of the other girls at the institution that they called a school, but there was something different about her hair. Maybe it was the way it curled, or possibly the way it seemed to catch even the most unflattering luminescent overhead lighting. It was different—natural. Her eyes were a deep green, though they were squinted up in distain for his shouting voice. Had he already messed up his chances? He silently cursed himself for his awkward mannerisms. His eyes flickered over her clothing, and was happy to see that it wasn’t one of the prissy overly expensive get-ups that his sister and the other Interschool drones seemed to constantly try and adorn themselves in. It was refreshing to see something unique in a sea of carbon-copy drones.

Oh! well, 'ello to you too.

His lazy lopsided smile spread across his ruddy cheeks as he took in her voice. She was English, which was something that he instantly found intriguing. He had a certain affinity with London, and had always chosen to spend his Spring Breaks bumming around its various pubs. He was fascinated by the British music scene, and had even written a comparative paper on it the year before. The office usually closes around six, but I think if you hurry, you could make it. I could even show you, if you'd like. Clark was taken-a-back by how friendly she seemed to be. In his brief experience with Castle Prep, the people weren’t too friendly, especially if you didn’t fit their pathetic little mold or the money wasting societal norm. “Yeah,” he said in his nonchalant tones, “Yeah that’d be great, thanks.” He went to run his hand through his stringy dirty-blond hair, only to find that it was caught in his headphone cord. Great. Just the kind of impression he wanted to make on the one real person he had found at the institution.

I'm a transfer, too. Diana White.

“Oh no way!” he exclaimed with a startling amount of enthusiasm for someone who appeared to be so lackadaisical, “I had you pegged as a lifer, you seemed to know your way so well.” He shook his head as if in disbelief. “Then again you seemed a too nice to be one of the pod people. What’s wrong with you, have they not ambushed you with their loads of designer shit yet? Or have you developed an immunity… maybe from a vaccine.” He joked, not realizing he was going off on a tangent. “Oh, the name’s Clark, Clark Dupont,” he said as he extended his hand to her.

[Diana White]

Diana wasn't like most girls that attended this school. First off, she wasn't exactly rich like they were. Her mother and father both pitched in to pay for her to go here, because they wanted her to have a better chance at getting into college. There was no way she would go here because she wanted to spend time with other rich kids. In fact, her entire outfit probably cost less than any one thing in their wardrobe; Diana was incredibly thrifty with her vintage clothes and willingness to shop at places that weren't Abercrombie and Juicy. Her friends at her old school would understand such things, but she doubted she would find many good friends here that shared any of her interests. She had a feeling that her We The Kings, Mayday Parade, and Friends For Hire CDs were contraband for her dorm-mate, whoever she may be, and her bright dresses and skinny jeans would surely get some interesting looks. Diana didn't dress like this to stick out, to draw attention. She dressed the way she did and listened to the music she liked because she liked to, and wanted to. She chose not to follow her friend's trends they thought were cool on a whim. Diana would really rather do things her own way.

And as soon as her eyes scanned the boy in front of her, she knew that he was just like her in this fact. He didn't dress like the boys here usually did, with their collared shirts and gelled hair. He certainly didn't look like the sports-type, but more of the type of boys she would hang out with at her old school. Diana liked him right away, as he grinned a dazzling yet casual lopsided grin. Something about him screamed that this was supposed to happen, that she was meant to be here to meet him and show him to the office. “Yeah, yeah that’d be great, thanks.” "Sure." Dee stated, turning her body the way he had come - the boy had been going the wrong way. Dee giggled as his hand caught on his headphones, and she instantly reached out to help him untangle it. She couldn't help it, she was a touchy-feely person. Being the affectionate type, she had no problem with physical contact. In fact, she always seemed to thrive on it. Even the slightest touch, like a pair hands brushing, set her off. Her smile stayed on her face for most of the time after.

He seemed surprised that she was a transfer as well. “Oh no way! I had you pegged as a lifer, you seemed to know your way so well.” Diana's grin widened for a moment. The reason she knew her way around so well, aside from her nifty sense of direction, was the fact that she had gotten lost so many times that by now she knew where everything was. She liked to explore in her free time, so she now knew where and where not to go. "No sir! I've only been here about a week, actually." “Then again you seemed a too nice to be one of the pod people. What’s wrong with you, have they not ambushed you with their loads of designer shit yet? Or have you developed an immunity… maybe from a vaccine.” A ringing laugh escaped her lips as he spoke. A vaccine against conforming? That was a good one. But she felt her cheeks warm a bit at being called nice, as she was often told she was too nice sometimes. (Though they obviously hadn't seen her temper. Red-heads had nothing on her in this department.) "What's wrong with me?" She repeated, "Apparently I'm built with some sort of 'prep repellant'; they don't come near me. Tell me, am I really that scary looking?" Diana questioned with a small giggle. "A vaccine would be nice, but I'm immune I guess. Anyone with a brain is, really."

“Oh, the name’s Clark, Clark Dupont,” Another small giggle. Diana's giggles weren't like those other bimbos'; hers was more like a soft laugh. It wasn't an octave higher, just quieter. She wasn't a priss, and you could see that reflected in everything she did. "Well met, Clark." She shook his extended hand. Diana other hand held her manila folder securely in her left hand at her side, and she used it to gesture down the hall. "Shall we then? We don' want to miss the office closing, now do we? I actually have something I've forgotten as well." Diana suggested, and set off with a leisurely pace.

"So wha've you got there, eh?" She nodded towards his headphones. "Wha's that your listening to?"

[Clark Dupont]

Clark couldn’t help but feel like an outsider in most situations, expect of course, in his own little Manhattan bubble. He was the black sheep of his family, for he cared more about music than money, and more about paradiddles than prestige. He had been the outsider at his school, Trinity, a co-ed private school on the Upper West Side. The kids there had been friendly with him, but that was mostly due to his ties to Lydia. They had all made their true alliances painfully clear after he and Lydia had had their falling out, and had chosen to toss him out like moldy cheese rather than been seen with someone that could jeopardize their standings with Lydia Dupont. Even when he moved down to The Village it had taken him a little while to get his footing and carve out a niche at his new school. He had never been shy in the past, but suddenly having every person he had considered a friend dissert him had taken a toll on his ten-year-old self-esteem. It took him a while to try and gain the courage to make new friends, but he was changed forever once he did. He threw himself into music, and it was through that outlet that he came to develop a heightened sense of himself. It was hard to once again be thrust into a situation where he didn’t belong, though he knew he would probably have no self-respect if he actually felt any sort of familiar connection to any one of these horrid California airheads. Diana though, Diana was different.

Sure.

Clark’s smile beamed up from his core. He was so genuinely happy to have not only found a person in California who was actually nice, but attractive too. He laughed as she turned in the direction that he had just come from, “Right,” he said with an amused self-deprecating nod. His eyes widened as she helped to untangle him from the twisting back cord that had wrapped itself around him. “Thanks,” he said as he absentmindedly rubbed the area of skin that she had touched, which was still faintly buzzing with electricity. There was something so mysterious, yet attainable, about her. The girls in New York were all afraid of any sort of contact, which was of course, until they were drunk and trying to accost you after a show. He liked how Diana seemed to have no boundaries, like she was free of any sort of social constraint. He wished he could be a little bit more like that.

No sir! I've only been here about a week, actually.

“No way!” he exclaimed with genuine surprise, “You had me fooled. I’m impressed.” And he was impressed. He was in utter awe that she was able to get around so quickly and with such ease, it usually took him months to fully work out his directional bearings, but then again, he wasn’t very organized and he hardly made an effort to use maps. He laughed, Lydia probably had the entire school mapped out by hand by now, just because she didn’t trust the school’s color-coding system. He frowned slightly, why was he thinking about Lydia so much lately? Maybe it was because they were back at the same school together for the first time in over five years, or maybe it was because she was the only person he had any connection with here in California. Although he couldn’t really say that, he hardly knew Lydia at all.

Apparently I'm built with some sort of 'prep repellant'; they don't come near me. Tell me, am I really that scary looking?

“Horrifying.” He answered seriously, and he kept a straight face for several beats before breaking into a large dimple creased smile. His eyes squinted slightly as he laughed, “I’m kidding,” he said as he playfully pushed her shoulder, “though they may actually be sacred of you. You know, the whole ‘thinking for yourself’ think can be kind of intimidating.” A vaccine would be nice, but I'm immune I guess. Anyone with a brain is, really. “No,” he said seriously, though not without nonchalance, “a lot of them actually have brains. It’s just what they use them for that is so fucked up.” For the third time that day he was forced to think of Lydia. His sister was incredibly smart, only she used her intelligence to play power games and undermine people. No, you had to be smart in order to turn an entire school against someone in one day, he was sure of it.

Shall we then? We don' want to miss the office closing, now do we? I actually have something I've forgotten as well.

“Yeah, right,” he said as he let go of Diana’s hand, he once again felt the electricity tingling up and down the area where their pores had collided. He had almost forgotten the reason he had been in the building in the first place. “You lead, I’ll follow?” he held out his arm as if to gesture her before him, as if he were holding an imaginary door. He immediately regretted the action. Why couldn’t he ever be as smooth as he was on stage in real life? Seriously, what was his problem? So wha've you got there, eh? She asked as they began to walk away from the closed door. “Everything,” he answered simply as he shot her a malicious grin. It was true, he had almost 17,000 tracks on his iPod, he basically had everything and anything. Wha's that your listening to? “If I tell you, will you promise not to laugh?” he asked tentatively as he met her gaze, “… Britany Spears.” He said quickly as he clenched his eyes shut in pretend embarrassment. He peaked one eye open to see if his comment had gotten the response he had expected, and he started to laugh, “I’m kidding, kidding,” he said reassuringly as he chuckled, “I was listening to ‘Victoria’ by The Kinks.”

[Diana White]

Diana, believe it or not, still did like this school. It had great opportunities for theatre, writing, and music. Better than Westfield, anyway. She knew that she would have great chances of getting into a really good college, and finding out her true path in life. Diana liked it almost as much as she liked the girl's school in Liverpool, which she had attended for two years in Jr. High, when her father had taught at the university, as well as her school. But they had missed Kacy, Diana's mother, like crazy, so here they were. Diana missed it, sure, but she couldn't just spend all of her time wishing to go back, because then she would never fully appreciate what she had here. Not to mention people seemed to get a kick out of her accent, as well as her style. (At least, the people who didn't hate anything that was different liked her style.)

“Right. Thanks,” Diana nodded. It was her nature to reach out, even if it was the smallest thing such as someone's shirt caught on things, or a leaf in someone's hair. She couldn't help it, it was just another thing that was part of her nature. She was really liking this Clark boy, and was eager to get to know him better. He just seemed like the kind of person she would befriend, and a friend is exactly what Diana needed right about now. There was definitely something else there, but she strongly ignored it. You see, Diana, despite her pretty looks, had never once had a boyfriend, nor had she ever been kissed. For someone who was so affectionate to her loved ones and friends, she was extremely inexperienced in the boy department. Sure, she was incredibly mature for her age, but she'd never even been on a date before. Think, she was sixteen years old, approaching her seventeenth much too quickly, and she had never been kissed. Not once. Most boys were much too immature for her, and she preferred to keep them as friends, to cheer her up if she ever got down. And any boy she did start to feel this way about always turned out to be dating another girl, or not interested in her. She had a feeling that this boy would be the same, so she just suppressed these feelings, willing them to go away. However, she couldn't say she didn't dream about one day she might care about a boy enough to let him make a move. But until then...

“No way! You had me fooled. I’m impressed.” She bit her lip and shrugged lightly. "I suppose I'm just that great of an actress then, aren't I?" Dee teased. Tell me, am I really that scary looking? “Horrifying.” For a second, Diana pouted, but when she realized that he was only joking, she poked her little tongue out at him, and swatted his shoulder gently. “I’m kidding,” he admitted, and she received a small shoulder shove in return, making her giggle again. "You're so mean. Clark." “though they may actually be sacred of you. You know, the whole ‘thinking for yourself’ think can be kind of intimidating.” Diana let out a small laugh as she entertained the idea. Diana? Intimidating? Right. "Is that it? And all of this time I thought they didn't like my hair." She replied with sarcasm, running a finger through her soft, blond curls. Maybe she would straighten it when she got back to her dorm...

“No, a lot of them actually have brains. It’s just what they use them for that is so fucked up.” Diana raised a brow as she looked at him. "You speak like you've lost someone to the 'dark side'." She mused, having to bite her pale lips to hold back a laugh. "I've known too many mates to turn into one of them... You know, use their powers for evil." Dee added with a wink as they set off for their little adventure. “Yeah, right. You lead, I’ll follow?” "Aye." She replied, and took a right as they reached the end of the hallway. They were in the English building, right next to the music hall, which they would have to go through to get to the main office.

“Everything,” Clark replied on the subject of his iPod video. She grinned at him, knowing exactly how much that thing could hold. She posessed one as well, and it lay quietly in her purse. She had so many different kinds of songs that she rarely had time to listen to them all. “If I tell you, will you promise not to laugh?” "Swear." She said, raising her two fingers signaling her promise. “… Britany Spears.” Her mouth dropped to the floor in shock. She would have figured something more.... edgier. Was he serious? Jeez Dee, you are WAY too gullible! “I’m kidding, kidding,” he said reassuringly as he chuckled, “I was listening to ‘Victoria’ by The Kinks.” Diana's face broke into a smile again. "Hey, aren't they that bad from the 70's or something? I've 'eard of them, but I don't think I've actually listened to them." She admitted, and reached into her purse, knowing exactly where her own version of the iPod video was, and pulled it out in it's green silicone casing. "Ta-da. Look there - we match." She announced, showing him her own. "I have one, too. Cept mine has some crazy music." the blond admitted, and pressed play. From the speakers, they could both hear the middle of Beethoven's 1st Sonata for piano, right up past the crescendo. She smiled, subtly playing the right hand part on her thigh. "See?" Dee asked, and hit the right side of the circle. We The Kings's Whoa was heard drifting through the speakers next. She giggled slightly, and as she went to go put it back in her purse, the folder fell from her hand, sheets of paper sliding all over the linoleum tiles.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, and instantly dropped to the floor to gather them all up. No doubt her works were all out of order now, but she didn't really care. As long as she got them all back in the folder, she didn't mind them being out of sync for now.

[Clark Dupont]

I suppose I'm just that great of an actress then, aren't I?

Clark squinted at her, before taking several steps back and held up his hands in order to look at her through the ‘television’ he had made in the space between his conjoining fingers. “I dunno…” he mused as he tilted his head. “You could be an actress, I’ll give you that,” he said decisively, “Or it could possibly be my charming knack for misjudging people. I saw blonde, I though California.” He shrugged and shook his head.

You're so mean. Clark. “Am I?” he asked as he looked rather disheartened, “Such a shame isn’t it, though, you’d have to admit that you’re jumping to conclusions. I promise that if you get to know me better you’d change your mind.” Clark did a small victory dance in his head. There, that was the smooth side he was waiting to bring out. He normally didn’t have so much trouble with girls, he didn’t know why he had gotten off on such a rocky start. Back home in New York he never really had to try to hard with members of the opposite sex. He kind of just let his nonchalant attitude work its charm, and girls stuck to him like magnets on an iron refrigerator. It wasn’t that he was a misogynist; it was just that he sort of always went with the flow. If girls were there, say after a show, he would roll with it, and if not, he never pursued them because he knew that they were bound to pop up some other time. The only problem was that he rarely got to know any of the girls who came to his gigs, they simply did whatever they felt like doing in the moment, and then disappeared of into the sea of the city the next day. There was one girl, Constance, who he used to date back in the old days. He had really fallen hard for her, and was simply crushed when she had finally caved to Lydia’s minions.

Is that it? And all of this time I thought they didn't like my hair.

Clark looked down at Diana and laughed. He was starting to really enjoy her company, she was spunky, and he always enjoyed time spent with energetic people, the brought out life in his otherwise carefree days. “Oh, but they hate your hair,” he teased as they bumped hips, “they think it is ‘unfashionable’,” his voice was playful, but grew shy and serious as he uttered, “but I like it, so that pretty much cancels out their opinion anyway.” He spoke the truth. In the short time that they had known each other, he had already taken to watching her hair bounce up and down when she walked, and watched out it seemed to absorb and reflect the harsh lighting from above.

You speak like you've lost someone to the 'dark side'.

“My sister,” he explained gravely, as if he were talking about a dead relative, “though I can’t say I lost her. I don’t think there was ever a day in her sad little life where she wasn’t conditioned to become what she is. She came out of the womb sporting the latest Michael Jacobs, or whatever that shit she is always wasting her money on is.” He shook his head at the thought of his poor sister. Maybe if things had been different, maybe if he had taken her with him, she could have had a real chance at being an actual person. The thing was, that after everything that Lydia put Clark through, he had nothing but sympathy for her, having known what her life was like growing up. Though he was sure that Lydia felt nothing for Clark but pure malice, and abhorrence. I've known too many mates to turn into one of them... You know, use their powers for evil. “Evil,” Clark repeated with a twisted grin, “Yeah, I’d say that would describe my sister alright. She is a real nasty piece of work.”

Hey, aren't they that bad from the 70's or something? I've 'eard of them, but I don't think I've actually listened to them.

“That band from the 70s?” Clark repeated in shock as he placed his hand over his heart in horror, “That band from the 70s? Blasphemy!” He was about to offer his own iPod up for musical education, when Diana whipped out her own. I have one, too. Cept mine has some crazy music. Clark began to listen to the music, and was surprised to hear classical (Beethoven if he was not mistaken) pumping through her small speakers. He was a bit taken aback, but it was a refreshing aspect to her personality that he hadn’t seen coming. He gave her a confused smile, as he was trying to decide what plant she had descended from, and where he could find more of her. And then the music changed, and it all became clear, “Oh!” he protested as he handed her back her headphones, “my ears are bleeding.” Just as he tried to hand her back her headphones, all of her papers seemed to scatter across the floor. “Here,” he said as he bent down to try and pick up her things, “let me help.” He grinned at her once she had her things securely in her arms. “Wanna here something really crazy?” he asked coyly as he held his own headphones up, “I promise, I can find something you’ll love.”

[Diana White]

Diana's grin widened as he held out his hands, as if she were on camera and she wrinkled her nose. Yes, she was an actress, but she preferred a live audience rather than something filmed. She had done some acting here and there, mostly at little theaters and with community players all over, but she had met quite a few famous actors in London, at Pimm's School for Girls. Her parents encouraged her in this area, though she still found more solace in her writing, and her music. “I dunno… You could be an actress, I’ll give you that. Or it could possibly be my charming knack for misjudging people. I saw blonde, I though California.” Diana rolled her eyes goodnaturedly. "Could be? Thanks, mate." She shot back sarcastically, but not without a grin. "Well, that shows how much you know. Bet you wouldn't 'ave thought I was born in Liverpool. They 'ave blonds there too, yah know." Dee joked, shooting him a wink. She couldn't help but be light and playful with this boy, this charming boy who was incredibly endearing.

“Am I? Such a shame isn’t it, though, you’d have to admit that you’re jumping to conclusions. I promise that if you get to know me better you’d change your mind.” Diana fell silent for a moment, though she had been a bit charmed by his words all the same. She wasn't usually fooled by boy's attempts to woo her, and was usually good about knowing how to keep the boundary line set. But she suddenly realized that she would have a hard time with this Clark fellow. "Oh really? Well then, tell me all about yourself. Really, let me have it. What about you will make me change my mind?" She asked, suddenly stopping, her gray-green eyes looking up into his blue ones. She was completely serious about this. Diana wanted to get to know Clark, and she wanted a friend in him. Could she find more? Well, it wasn't totally impossible. But she shouldn't even be thinking about this! She was Diana White, never-done-anything Dee. (Though if you read one of her romances, you wouldn't be able to tell that she was so inexperienced.) "We've got plenty of time."

“Oh, but they hate your hair, they think it is ‘unfashionable’, but I like it, so that pretty much cancels out their opinion anyway.” He had started out light and playful, making her smile grow as he continued, but suddenly he was almost shy as he uttered the last half. She felt the slightest bit of blush creep up onto her fair cheeks, as she replied, "Well, thank you." Though she didn't wear her hair down or curly all of the time, people often said she looked just as good whatever she did to her hair, but in different ways, whatever that meant. About half of the time it was straight, which was very flattering to her shoulders, and other times, mainly when she didn't feel like bothering with her flat iron, she didn't touch it, aside from a bit of mousse. "You know, I don't exactly see you letting other people think for you." She said, sort of a compliment in it's own way.

“My sister, though I can’t say I lost her. I don’t think there was ever a day in her sad little life where she wasn’t conditioned to become what she is. She came out of the womb sporting the latest Michael Jacobs, or whatever that shit she is always wasting her money on is.” Diana nodded seriously, wondering what it was like to have siblings. It was always something she had dreamed of, but had always known it was impossible. She had been a mistake, though her parents assured her they loved her more than they loved themselves, and wouldn't take it back in a heartbeat, but she had been a complete and total mistake. An accident. This train of thought often depressed her, just as much as wishing she wasn't an only child did.

“That band from the 70s? That band from the 70s? Blasphemy!” Diana raised her hands defensively. "Calm down! Gods, don't 'ave a heart attack." She exclaimed, sighing. "It's not my fault I was dropped on my head." She watched his face with interest as he just gave her a confused look. Diana would bet that he would never guess that she could play most of that piece, as well. “Oh! My ears are bleeding.” Another swat on his shoulder. "Oh, you just leave my We The Kings alone." She ordered, taking away her iPod defensively. "Wanna here something really crazy? I promise, I can find something you’ll love.” With a sigh, she took the headphones, sticking one in her ear. "Sure. Surprise me."

[Clark Dupont]

Well, that shows how much you know. Bet you wouldn't 'ave thought I was born in Liverpool. They 'ave blonds there too, yah know.

Clark laughed at how quick she was to jump down his throat. He usually found aggression to be rather a turn off, for he much preferred to go with the flow than stir up a ruckus (unless, of course, he was on stage), but there was just something about her tone that he found intriguing rather than irritating. “Well excuse me Miss White,” he said rather nonchalantly as he stuck his hands up in an attempt to plea guilty, “but I think you’ve forgotten a minor fact here.” He then leaned in close and whispered, “you might want to take a peek at my own head,” and then backed away to his normal position as he rolled his eyes and whistled innocently. “I may not be from Liverpool,” he said cheekily, “but I think I’m living proof that not all blondes hail from this fair state.” He winked at her before continuing to walk.

Oh really? Well then, tell me all about yourself. Really, let me have it. What about you will make me change my mind?

Clark was rather taken aback by her forwardness, but he found it refreshing how interested she was in him. In New York people either already knew your entire life story, or didn’t care to find out, not many people had actually taken the time to ask him anything about it. Even his best friend, Rowan, hadn’t known the whole story about what happened with his family until three years into their friendship. “Seriously?” he asked, though he didn’t need a reply to know the answer. The look on Diana’s face implied that she as deadly serious. “You can’t get to know someone in a sentence,” he said slowly, “it takes time.” We've got plenty of time. Clark looked straight back into her eyes. “Well,” he started, “alright then. My name is Clark Dupont, I was born and raised in Manhattan. Music, as you may have guessed, is my passion and I played in a band back home, we were actually generating some real buzz before I left. My family is kind of fucked up, but I don’t think you should let any of that scare you away because I am nothing like them, and relations really don’t determine a person’s mental health (I hope not anyway). I’d like to think I’m funny, and given the chance, you may even come to agree with that… I mean, I laugh at my own jokes, no that’s not what I meant, I really shouldn’t be telling you how pathetic I am while I’m trying to sell myself. I am someone you may want to have around, because although I may have just met you ten minutes ago, I’m pretty sure you’re the kind of person that I want to have around. And that, Miss Diana White, is a mouthful, and I really hope you haven’t listened to a word of it because I’m making myself sound like a complete buffoon.” He panted slightly before taking a large bow.

You know, I don't exactly see you letting other people think for you.

“Well, why should I?” He asked honestly, “Why should I let someone else think for me when I have a full functioning tinker working overtime up here?” he tapped lightly on his scull. He grinned at her, although he wouldn’t admit it just yet, he was rather flattered to be told he was freethinking by a girl he had judged to be such a free spirit. “Nope,” he continued with a light chuckle, “no one else is getting their hands on these reins until the warranty runs out.”

Oh, you just leave my We The Kings alone.

“Only if they promise to leave me alone,” he said with an over-exaggerated grimace. He wasn’t a big fan of We the Kings, but he wasn’t so much of a music elitist that he would actually judge her because of decision to play them on her iPod. He had met way too many people in New York that had limited their musical spectrums because of musical biases that made absolutely no sense. Sure. Surprise me. “I was hoping you would say that,” he said as he flashed her a mischievous grin. Now it was time to put her to the ultimate test. He carefully pulled his oversized headphones over his head and placed them securely over her ears. He couldn’t help but note how adorable she looked in them, seeing as they were huge on her. “Ready?” he asked, “Get ready to have your mind blown,” he said enthusiastically, “you said you wanted a surprise...” He then cranked up an Afrobeat number by Fela Kuti’s Africa 70. He watched her face eagerly for her response.

[Diana White]

“Well excuse me Miss White, but I think you’ve forgotten a minor fact here. You might want to take a peek at my own head, I may not be from Liverpool,” he said cheekily, “but I think I’m living proof that not all blondes hail from this fair state.” Diana merely shook her head at him. She had seen his hair, his blond locks that were still very different from her own. "Yes, I know this. You're the one who assumed that the blond if from California! I never said you were from around here." Diana got out in between small laughs. When had this become a question of her not seeing his hair? She laughed it off anything, finding this boy pretty endearing.

He had started to argue, saying you couldn't get to know someone in one sentence, which she already knew to be true. It took a lot to be a friend, but though she wasn't really aware of it, Diana was one of the greatest friend someone could have. She listened patiently, kindly, her face almost blank as he spoke to her. “Well, alright then. My name is Clark Dupont, I was born and raised in Manhattan. Music, as you may have guessed, is my passion and I played in a band back home, we were actually generating some real buzz before I left. My family is kind of fucked up, but I don’t think you should let any of that scare you away because I am nothing like them, and relations really don’t determine a person’s mental health (I hope not anyway). I’d like to think I’m funny, and given the chance, you may even come to agree with that… I mean, I laugh at my own jokes, no that’s not what I meant, I really shouldn’t be telling you how pathetic I am while I’m trying to sell myself. I am someone you may want to have around, because although I may have just met you ten minutes ago, I’m pretty sure you’re the kind of person that I want to have around. And that, Miss Diana White, is a mouthful, and I really hope you haven’t listened to a word of it because I’m making myself sound like a complete buffoon.” Diana couldn't help it, her grin broke through and a little bit of laughter bubbled out as he took his bow. She snapped, not wanting to disturb anyone with something as loud as clapping. "Well done, Mister Dupont. Well done indeed." Di told him sincerely. She raised an eyebrow, before continuing.

"Okay; my turn." She said, and took a deep breath. "My name is Diana Eden White, I'm a Junior, and I'm seventeen, and I'm different from anyone you've ever met; I've grown up between Los Angeles and Liverpool, and I was born in the latter. My passion lies in the arts, all kinds. I'm a singer, a dancer, but mainly an actress. I play piano and viola, and I write, and I'm here on three different scholarships. My parents are... well, complicated. They aren't married, but we're all kind of best friends. My father teaches at Berkeley of California, head of the music department, and my mother is a writer. I'm not scared easily, so your family doesn't frighten me. I'm a pretty happy girl, but I have a rather harsh temper, and a complete inability to sugarcoat things. And, well, I'm pretty much a spaz." Diana grinned widely as she said this. "I love to laugh, so if you can make me laugh, then we're good to go, mate." Diana stated, and moved her feet into a perfect curtsy.

She simply rolled her eyes as he dissed We The Kings. Silly people and their silly taste in music. Diana couldn't stand people who were music elitists, who judged people just on what they listened to. Diana liked to listen to anything, really, what was wrong with that? “I was hoping you would say that... Ready? Get ready to have your mind blown, you said you wanted a surprise...” Diana smiled, almost unsure as she placed the headphones into her ear. The beat sounded African, like those mixed CDs Paul used to burn for her. She smiled at the thought of her good friend, and closed her eyes for a moment as the beat washed over her. They took a right turn, Diana bobbing her head slightly. "Yeah, I like this..." She told him with a genuine grin.