Hello there! Welcome to my first shot at a fanfiction. For now this will be pretty mellow, but who knows how it will turn out in the future, so I'm cranking up the rating just in case. I would like to thank a few awesome people: GhostfaceTV, TheLastOfThem and Victorious-FutureFictions, who are awesome writers and peeps, if you haven't checked out their stuff then go IMMEDIATELY, don't even bother with this one.

Disclaimer: I'm not sure if this is actually needed, but no, I don't own any of the stuff mentioned below, sadly. If I did, right now I would be swimming in my giant money-filled pool instead of writing fanfictions.

She was chewing on her fountain pen, headphones resting on her neck, there she sat, typing up in her PearBook. Her hair was up, being held loosely by a pencil, while medium-sized black rimmed glasses adorned her face halfway down her nose. She wore black run down jeans, a white tank top and a blue and black plaid shirt. Normally you wouldn't expect anything close to this as her demeanor, but she prided herself in being unpredictable. This was one of her best-kept secrets, one of her fortresses of relative solitude. She loved this diner, for a multitude of reasons: The coffee was phenomenal, which on its own would make her come back, but aside from that it was quiet, open 24 hours, the food was pretty good and the staff left her alone most of the time. However, she first came across it in one of her midnight drives, she recognized it as the place where some of her favorite movies were filmed, including one of the all time best movies, Sex and Death 101, second only, of course, to The Scissoring. Despite her being an openly avid fan of The Scissoring, she was slightly more reserved about her fondness for Sex and Death 101. It had a modicum measure of gore that allowed it to be acceptable in her standards, however the main reason for the enjoyment of the movie was the underlying love story; and Jade West doesn't do love stories. At least to the outside world, that is. She had built a reputation for being a cold-hearted badass bitch, and that is the way she wanted it to remain.

Which is why she retreated to the hidden parts of L.A. during these long breaks, to do what she was doing. It's not that people weren't aware that she wrote, it was that she was trying to put down in words the play that had formed in her head for a while. It wasn't really a play; more of a collage of dreams, daydreams and general brain farts that have somewhat haunted her. She hated that she felt the need to vent in this medium, but it was driving her mad. She could be writing at house, it was quiet that's for sure, too quiet. Her mother had gone with her brother to visit their extended family in New Jersey, while she decided to stay in L.A.. Not only did the prospect of flying not thrill her in the least, she also dreaded contemplating the mere possibility of being in the same county as those guidos she saw a documentary on. Between us, she was channel surfing one day and caught Jersey Shore on. She was terrified, she couldn't understand how people were scared of watching The Scissoring yet insisted on watching that. She shivered as thoughts of spray tans and STDs seeped through her mind, taking a sip of her mug of coffee and reaching for the scissors in her right boot as a way to self-soothe. On the bright side, for one it made her glad to divert her attention back to the play currently jumbled around in her laptop. It was about, well it was about something that she wasn't at all proud of, matters of the heart.

She saw Hellie approaching. To everyone else, Hellie was just another 30-something regular at the diner, but Jade knew she was the daughter of the owner as well as manager of the establishment. She had to admit, she actually tolerated the woman. Not only did Hellie know when to just leave her be, and when she wouldn't mind striking up a conversation, mostly about their mutual love of cinematography, she was also an exceptional critic. Jade let her read a substantial amount of her material, this particular one however, was not the case.

"Late night huh?"

Jade checked her watch, 2:34 am. "Yea, guess so."

Hellie leaned slightly to the PearBook, "Anything of interest?"

"Nope. Total crap actually."

Hellie chuckled; this is why Jade liked her, not only was she a woman of little words, but treated Jade as more than a silly teenager. "So can I get you a refill? Maybe a midnight snack?"

"Nah, I should probably be heading out, this was just to pass the time"

Hellie smirked, "I see, so you are telling me that you usually get paid to be here during the wee hours of the night?"

"Yup, my dear father tends to give me good money to not bother him" She countered.

Hellie was about to give her an apologetic look and rub a comforting hand to the girl's back, yet she had known Jade long enough to know that it would be one of the worst approaches possible. She settled for an inhaled hissing noise, and a sour-faced look, signaling that Jade won the comeback battle. Jade gave a smug shrug as she reached for her bag, to start packing up her stuff.

"Wanna take some breakfast with you? I can get Lloyd to make you waffles."

"It's ok, I'll just scramble some eggs when I wake up."

"Alright. You know Jade, as much as I love our banter and your generally entertaining personality, we should probably consider hanging out at more accommodating hours." Hellie knew she had to be as diplomatic as she could muster.

"Well yes, but then one should probably know how to at least fry an egg if they work in the food industry. As we both know, such is not the case." Jade knew Hellie was simply looking out for her, but refused to admit whatever kind of implication of frailty that may come attached to it, as such, she settled on taking a jab Hellie's inability to cook.

"Whatever, just text me when you get home ok."

Jade gave Hellie the official Jade West eye-roll, before awarding the woman a slight smile and a low "Sure."

Jade tended to roam around L.A. in nights like these, but she was tired, for no valid reason. The amount of caffeine she consumed on a daily basis would surely manage to keep the Duracell bunny going and going, yet today, even with her average intake, she was quite tired. So she decided to take the more direct route, which given the time of day would mean she was at her own doorstep in less than 15 minutes.

In spite of it being one of the clearest "go away" messages/presents from her father, she loved her car. She loved her car more than she tolerated most humans. Her car purred at her with just a turn of a key, it always stayed where she left it, and it proved customarily more useful than a sleuth of people. Not only did it take her places but also occasionally given her shelter, and harbored countless outbursts from her without judging, whenever the Janitor's Closet was otherwise unavailable. She didn't really care about things like brands, makes or models; her car was a black Volkswagen Passat. She appreciated the fact that her dad at least got the color spot on, though had it been her buying, she would go for a no-windows black van; not only would it aid in the upkeep of her reputation, it would be undoubtedly more spacious, fitting a mattress. Though having a mattress fitted van would be perfect for lewd behavior, the main reason for that fancy was the fact that sleeping in her car proved somewhat unpractical for the long-term. Jade always had a fully equipped suitcase in the back of her car.

She arrived at her mother's place. It was in one of the "nice parts" of town, though at the same time dangerously close to less savory streets. Jade didn't mind, it meant having a close supplier at any given time, as well as it gave her mother and the neighborhood hens something else to talk about. She proceeded to her room, at the back of the house, segregated from all the other bedrooms, which were located in the second floor. It used to be the study, it was converted after her father moved out, when she was twelve. It had it's own bathroom and a convenient sliding door to the backyard, which meant Jade didn't have to use the front door in case of an emergency, or if it was any given day of the week. She had decorated, if one can call it that, in a way that she knew if someone had considered touching any of her things. She didn't care about it being a mess, her only two requests were a large bed and that the room kept its original dark wallpaper.

Though technically she was "fortunate" enough to have two households, neither could be considered a home to her. Her father, in the rare instances when he was actually present, would sigh outwardly in relief if she left. Her mother was a whole other story. As a psychologist, you would expect her to be at least empathetic to the struggles of a teenager, yet that was as far from the truth as possible. Jade wasn't the most verbally inclined person, and it practically physically pained her every time her mother decided it was time to "catch up". Her mother's catching up time consisted in an ordinarily weekly Spanish Inquisition sort of talk. She asked how she was, if there was any news, Jade would mostly reply in shrugs and one-word sentences. After an average of 5 minutes, Jade's mother would burst out yelling, calling her names, and sometimes even attempting to strike her; when she succeeded, it would take her typically a minute to start apologizing, and then proceed to leave the teenager's presence. What Jade despised the most was how it was almost a routine arrangement, what hurt her the most was when her mother would say she was a bad example for her brother. As much as she enjoyed torturing her little brother, Jade was fiercely protective of him, she had to an extent raised him. She hadn't left permanently solely because of Luke, she was thankful he was at least spared the brunt of their parents' rage. In the days she couldn't take it anymore, she would get in her car and disappear from both her houses, her car being her retreat. She hated accepting pity from whoever, preferring to deal with horrible back pain to having to possibly explain whatever the situation. Occasionally she would take refuge at Cat's, or Beck's, she spent some days at Hellie's loft.

She changed to her sleeping clothes, which meant taking out her jeans and switching to yoga pants. Jade liked to be ready for when something happened to be decent enough to leave. She would sleep with her combat boots on if they weren't uncomfortable. She always slept with a baseball bat between her headboard and her mattress, and at least one pair of scissors at her bedside table. There were never any break-ins where she was, but she felt safer that way, what with everything.

As usual, her attempts at sleeping were futile. Despite she being in general able to sleep better when the house was empty, today was not the case. The thoughts that have plagued her wouldn't let her sleep. She wasn't able to pour out everything in a way that satisfied her, this meant tomorrow was probably going be a repeat attempt at the diner.

A.N.: Alrighty, so that's it. Hope you were moderately entertained by it. I have a second chapter in the making right now, but I'd like some opinions on this first one beforehand. I'm not begging or anything, it's just I'm not really sure what I did here so I'd like to know what ya'll think before I continue with it.