1. Chapter 1: A Normal Begining

So my life is going nowhere. Everything is without sparks, without surprises. Everything is dull. It's like can you say bored to a fucking coma? Everything's way to normal. And well, I just know I'm not meant to live a normal life. Now if only my life would catch onto that. 

Not that I don't like/tolerate my life. Not that I don't love the people I've surrounded myself with. Not that I don't love my band. Ok I'm mentally rambling and that just peeves me. 

It's my situation in life that has me fidgety and so vexed. I'm a tall slightly curvy, leggy, tanned California girl, without the huge ass California boobs. A highschool graduate, currently taking a few College day classes. My mom died just a year or two ago. I can't remember exactly, everything since then has gotten a little blurry when concerned with her. You know, I loved her. I was rebellious, we had our fights, but damn I so depended on her motherliness which I took for granted... And now I slave day in and day out slacking. 

Backtrack on the Buffy thought process. I do attend my classes. I do work. I got some dumbass waitress job at the only café in town. It's so wrong that I had to grow up since I was 0 in such a one Starbucks town. But in a town like this well, you get to know your neighbors. And here comes one right about...

"Buffy!" 

Now.

"Willow." I flash one of my warmest smiles.

Nothing screams 'my fashion' sense with a sliding on exotic silky grass colored big belled sleeved blouse and pale tan flowing skirt trailing behind my dear Willow. Her emerald eyes shine with concern as she slips into a seat across from me and steals a sip from my coffee.

"I see the mope-y Buffy look doing the tango across those pixies features." She points out, before tucking a flame-y strand of hair behind her ear.

I can't help but mirror her gesture and tuck a deep brownish blackish strand of hair behind my own ear, "So I'm that see through?" 

"Crystal."

"Life sucks."

"So do guys that have pierced their dicks." At my horrendous expression she giggles and hands me back my coffee. Like I'm really gonna drink it now, "Read it, somewhere." Is all she finishes with.

"Gonna meet me and Xander at the Bronze tonight?" I quirk an eyebrow.

She scrunches up her nose in deep thought, "Tara and I were thinking about going to the mall to get new outfits for our gig at Tag."

Tag... one of the hottest College clubs to be at in good ol' Sunnydale is where our next gig will be. Yeah I got piss drunk (from ONE beer) and decided to use my writing skills to make songs and get my friends to do all that important music stuff. So just great, just perfect. I forgot all about the gig. Maybe going to the Bronze -another hot club- could wait...girl shopping time is needed. Scratch that, we could bring Xander to carry the bags. I inwardly chuckle. He'll be our bag carrier, yet again.

"Gotcha. Xan-man can wait, I'm coming with you two. Just don't do the smoochies in front of me." I pause to give a seductive eye-slitted look to Willow, "It gets me all hot and bothered."

Willow plays innocent, "I wouldn't think it!"

I duck my head in light hearted laughter as does Willow. When the laughter subsides and Willow has ordered her own cup of...something or other, we continue.

"Wills, how come you got Tara, Xander has Anya, Angel has Cordelia, Oz has Verruca and well... Faith has or had just about every available/non available guy, while me Buffy Summers has zip!?" Each word shows just a little more sadness and hurt than I want.

Willow takes on that face which makes her seem like the wisest woman, "Buffy, buddy ol' pal, in your own words life sucks..."

Just what I wanted to hear, my own words flung back at me. I know she didn't mean for them to hurt so much, but still they do. I need some hope for better times, for my wishes to be granted. Oh, grow up Buffy. With a defeated sigh I slump back into my chair. I need a guy. Maybe I should just pack up and leave this town. Travel and discover for myself this funky world.

"Thanks." Sarcasticness heavily drips onto the word.

"I wasn't finished!" She raises her voice in outrage, "It's only a matter of this stupid thing called time."

"Great that solves one out of millions of my problems." I scowl into my cold coffee.

"Don't be sad, get glad!" She nudges with an odd little smile.

I raise my eyebrows at her ill timed joke, "Umm... Didn't work."

"What else is bothering you?" 

"Isn't this life here so boring?"

"Well yeah. I kind of learnt that at the age of 8 when I once caught my self watching paint dry."

I giggle a little, "I remember that."

"You do?" She is clearly confused.

"Willow, I was there right along with you!" I practically shout.

She has the decency to let a blush creep up on her pale skin, "Shows how zoned out I was."

"I think, I, blacked out from the sudden awe of it all."

She smirks, "Buffster, it'll get better. You're gonna hit it big in the musical world and to add to it all you're best friends will ride the fame and fortune wave with ya."

"You are right my evil friend." My hazel eyes twinkle at the prospect.

"Problem solved?" She tilts her head, awaiting my answer.

"Problem pushed aside. My mind has now wandered to the territory where I have a mansion and Cordy gets that pole yanked out of her ass." I cheekily grin.

Nope, sorry. Wasn't at all what I was thinking about. I pranced off into a moment of self pity and wallowing. Gotta hand it to those depressed people that have to deal with it every day of the year.

"You scare me with your frankness. But now I gotta go...and ironically I'm going to meet Cordy."

My eyes widen at the statement as the words slam into me, "You wouldn't fucking dare." I croak out a minute later, "Would you?"

"By what are you implying?"

"You so would!" I hang my mouth open somewhat like a fish's.

"Cordy can take it. But can you take Cordy?" With those last words and a satisfied smirk, she swipes at her cup and jets off down the street, my eyes never leaving her form until I can't see her anymore.

I really love and hate them all. I drop a few bills that I scrambled for and set off down the street. 

Just another beginning of a new day in this sunny Buffy neighborhood. 


	2. Chapter 2: Riley's a stalker & I have 15...

And night settles. The day went by so quickly for me. I didn't even know that the street lamps popped on until I looked up and got shot back to reality with the sudden bright harshness to my eyes. Oh, and, the sun went down. Wish I could just say, well I'm blonde, so that's my excuse. But when you aren't blonde anymore it isn't pretty convincing, anymore.

For some reason most are jittery and uneasy at night. In Sunnydale the nights feel spooky and as if the Halloween atmosphere never leaves after every October. Really though, you must understand, that it never stops everyone from coming out. Nope. When you live here, a oh so boring town, you got to get your kicks sometimes and somewhere. And that's when the clubs come into play. 

I phoned Xander as I headed to the mall with Tara and Willow, and told him to go jerk off with Oz at the arcade (what a bunch of kids in grown men bodies) cause I changed plans. He just answered with a okey dokey, and that was the full conversation. Hey, he understands Buffy talk. 

My date with Willow and Tara at the mall flew by in a blur of laughter, ogling at the guys (or in their case girls), along with enough different outfits to make me want to swear off clothes for life. Uh... Just kidding. I live for a new outfit, funky new jewelry, and jazzy new shoes! 

After half the afternoon dwindled down, we finally emerged with our new outfits. I got a kick ass mini leather skirt, along with a shimmery baby blue tube top, and to top it off a pair of high heeled black leather boots. Shh...don't tell me that I'll be paying for this with some overtime. You'll spoil my carefree moment. 

So here I am. I'm ready and raring to go. Docked in my new outfit, dark makeup, bone straight hair, and a small confident grin that seems permanent as I stalk my way over to Tag. Oh, another thing, Sunnydale is a walking town. The word car seems foreign to people here. 

How could I go from mope-y Buffy to happy Buffy in a span of 9 hours? I knit my brows together in a slight moment of concentration. That's right! I'm meeting my fabulous friends, playing one of the songs I wrote when I was in a little to happy to be me mood, and well, there's the prospect of getting plastered afterward. Peachy. 

"Buffy!" 

Damn. Just when I was riding a natural high, he comes bumbling to my side, towering above my petite form.

"Riley." My carefree smile rides off the cliffs to be replaced with a small twitch of my lips.

"Buffy."

Does he get off saying my name? I involuntarily shiver at the thought. My whole manner is non cha lont and cold. Giving off a vibe of indifference to his presence. Can't he see, that I want, him else where?

"Please don't, kill my name." 

He runs a hand through his crew cut dirty brown hair in confusion. That huge nose turns in my direction, making me think of the evil witch from the Wizard of Oz. 

"Buffy," There he goes again, "your name is an inanimate object."

Grr. He just talked to me as if I'm a bad child and he's the parent! Since I started college he's been my unwanted admirer. All right, it wasn't always unwanted. At first I loved the boyishness he radiates, the innocence, the paper cut identity. At first. I really did love the attention...at first. 

Then I felt like I was being stalked, excuse me, I still am being stalked. Hey, a girl can say no without literally saying no. But no, Mr. Top Student/Ass Kisser of Ms. Walsh's Psychology Class just doesn't get it. 

"Exactly." I use my all to fake patronizing tone.

He seems to gleefully accept that response as he breaks into a goofy smile, "So where ya going?"

"The Alps." I say with all assurance.

"With that on?" He appreciatively leers at my choice of clothing. 

Ew. Gross. Yes, this is worn to attract guys' attention. No, it is not worn to attract his at all. I try my best to hide my repulsed expression, ok, I tried.

"Why don't you go waddle along back to Iowa and say hi to your 'rents for me?" I sweetly command more than ask. 

Before a reply can be uttered, Tag's blinking sign comes into view and I swiftly weasel my way into the side door. Being in a band and having a gig at this place has certain nice privileges. The first to invade my senses is the pulse pounding, ear drum bursting music that ricochets from wall to wall. The backstage workers shuffle along busy doing one thing or another. All getting ready for the next band. My band. 

Xander slides up behind me from thin air, coiling his arms around my slim waist in a possessive manner. A small squeak escapes my mouth along with a startled jump. Xander... Just thinking the name rehashes fun times, good jokes, and silly banter. My big brother, or so we like to believe and fantasize. 

Whispering at a sultry level he inquires, "Where's my rubber ducky?" 

What did you expect, you look good enough to eat? No way. Nothing smooth and swagger like from my Xander. Just plain silliness and immatureness that has never left his sex driven, good time having mind and muscled body. 

With all seriousness faked I reply, "In the tub, Ernie."

"Now we may all be merry!" He shouts in good spirits.

In a flash I am spun around and around and around and around until I see the blur of Tara scampering over, her eyes wide as plates. Her smooth face is set in a shocked expression, but with that evil glint in her eyes' I earnestly know I'm in trouble.

"Xander!" She yanks me from his grasp, "Do this later when she's drunk and about ready to puke her guts out!"

I stumble a bit until I catch my footing, shooting Xander my best vengeful glare, then at Tara's words I can't decide who to send it to. Without warning I burst into laughter, sending Xander and Tara with me.

This is what I live for. Moments like these, where everything fades away but the great company you're in. If I didn't have such good friends to keep me company without my mom or Dawn who was taken by our dad when mom died...a knife would looks so tempting upon my wrist at the moment...

"Aye, aye, Captain-ess." Xander stoutly salutes.

I shake my jumbled head before inquiring, "When do we go on?" 

"15 minutes." Tara gives me a shaky 'don't freak out' smile.

"Here it comes..." Xander braces himself by covering his delicate ears.

"FIFTEEN MINUTES!" I loudly sputter in shock, "I have to work up my voice, fix my outfit, redo my hair, and at least get a couple of drinks in me!!" I whip my head around and stare down an innocent looking Xander who has just tentatively removed his hands from his ears, fearing the worst his over. Not fucking likely, "This is all your fault!"


End file.
