Up until now, life has been pretty consistent for me. I've lived in the same town I was born in for the sixteen years I've been alive. I've been in the same school district with the same group of friends for the past eleven years, and I've been playing on the same city-league soccer team with the same teammates since the beginning of middle school nearly five years ago. I've lived in the same house with the same parents and brother, gone to the same movie theater on dates, the same corner store for snacks after school, the same Game Stop for video games, and the same Staples for school supplies.

Same, same, same, same, same, same, same.

Most of my friends get sick of the repetition, but I think it's okay. Consistency is stability and I like that. Maybe it's because the only change I've ever experienced was the death of our family's cat and friends moving away. I'm sure if I talked to a therapist they could tell me exactly why I didn't like change. In fact, I probably wouldn't even need to talk to them about it. All I would have to do is mention the words "dislike" and "change" in a sentence together and they would go off about how common it is to fear change, almost as much as speaking in public or death, in fact. Then they would yap for twenty minutes about how avoiding fears will only make them worse before checking their watch, telling you that if you have any more problems to give them a call, and that you can pay at the front desk on your way out. No matter how hard therapists try to convince you they care about you and your problems, their constant counting down the minutes until their next appointment is scheduled to start will always tell you otherwise. I've never personally been to see one of those bone-heads, but I've had enough friends tell me about their experiences that I might as well have.

Now, for some inconceivable reason, my family can't get enough change. They're the kind of people that switch up the furniture in every room in the house at least twice a year, trying new restaurants outside of town every week, and dream of traveling the world. It shouldn't have surprised me when they dropped the bomb that we would be moving far away from our home in just a few short months, but it did.

And my life would never be the same again.

A/N: I hope you guys liked this little prologue-chapter-thingy! So I've been planning this story out for some time now and I think it's finally developed enough that I feel confident posting it. :D So because I'm in college full-time and co-writing Destiny High with Boohbear19, I was planning on posting at least once every two weeks. That just gives me enough time to continue getting good marks and, of course, time to produce the best content possible! The first couple of updates may take a little longer than the later ones just because I'm getting situated into the story, but I hope to get onto a constant posting schedule after the first three or so chapters. :)

I haven't written much more than what you see here right now, but I have the skeleton of the story sketched out. I always like using reviewer feedback to help me sculpt the story as we move along through it together, so I'll probably write a chapter ahead of the one I post to give me a little bit of flexibility while still being able to (hopefully) keep with a pretty regular posting schedule. ANYWAY, I hope you guys like this little blurb, I should be posting the first "official" chapter sometime early next week. ;)