01. Umm, Thanks?

"A bar?" America Singer asked her best friend, sliding her key into the lock on the wooden door that stood between her and her couch. She tossed her red hair over her shoulder and turned the key, hearing a satisfying click. She turned the doorknob and entered her apartment, throwing her green purse down onto the kitchen counter. Dumping the shopping bags she was holding onto her couch, she turned to face Marlee who had flounced in after her and shut the door. "Seriously, Mar, I love you. But that's the most idiotic idea you've ever had."

The blonde rolled her eyes at her friend and leaned against America's kitchen counter. "Gee, thanks." she pouted, but her eyes were still teasing. "Ames, please! It's Saturday night and we live in New York City. You've got to be the only person saying no to the idea of, gasp, having a little fun."

"Bars aren't fun!" America whined. "Why don't you take Carter, instead?" Marlee's boyfriend seemed like a much better person to go with than herself. If the two of them went, America could do what she actually wanted to do tonight. Mainly, take a bath, watch Netflix, and eat Rocky Road ice cream from the carton.

Marlee sighed. "He's out of town on a business meeting and won't be back until Wednesday."

Laughing at her friend, America walked to her small freezer and grabbed the pint of half-eaten ice cream. "Oh, so I'm like your second choice?" She teased, popping the lid off and grabbing a spoon.

Marlee waved her hand in a nonchalant way, as if the idea was preposterous. "America, you're my best friend. I want to go do something fun with you! You've got to get out of this apartment sometime."

"Hey!" America pointed at Marlee with an ice cream filled spoon. "I do get out. I have a job, which is really more than I can say for you."

Her friend brushed a lock of blonde hair out of her eyes, ignoring America's comment. She resorted for the next trick: begging. She widened her blue eyes to as big as they could get. "Pleeeeeeaaaaaasssssseeeeeee! Just for like an hour? There might even be a cute guy there..."

The redhead sighed, knowing there was no way she could win this fight. "Fine." She said with a sigh. "One drink, and don't pick a super crowded bar, okay? Find one you like and text me the address. I'm going to eat dinner and change, because I suppose you'd object of me going out in jeans."

Marlee practically squealed in excitement. "Thank you!" She ran to hug America. "You won't regret this, I promise! I'll call the girls and then text you the address in an hour or so. Wear something cute." She bolted out the door to start arranging everything.

"Wait!" America called after her as the blonde bounced down the hall of the apartment complex. "I thought you meant just... us." She trailed off when she realized her friend was gone. Rolling her eyes, she shut the door to her apartment and looked regretfully at the couch and TV. "Sorry, friends. Guess I'm going out tonight..." She recapped the ice cream and jammed it back into the freezer. She opened the fridge door and looked for something to eat for dinner. There wasn't a ton of time or options. America knew from personal experience that when Marlee said an hour, it was more like twenty minutes. She loved her bubbly friend, but she got so excited over the littlest things.

Settling on left over Chinese food from the gig she'd played at a few days ago, America microwaved the Chow Mein noodles and sat down at her small kitchen table. She inhaled the food far faster than was probably good for her, flipping on the television as she did.

"In today's news," the perky reporter was saying, "There's another celebrity on the block here in NYC. Maxon Shreave, the 'Prince' of business and next in line to own his father's multimillion dollar company, Illéa Incorporated, has graced us with his presence in our city. The handsome billionaire refused an interview today, preferring to keep his visit 'strictly business', he told presses. This is Gavril Fadaye" An image of a young man appeared on screen, wearing a navy blue suit with a dark tie. His honey-colored hair was curly and brown eyes were the same color as chocolate. He seemed stiff, though, and uncomfortable.

America flipped the channel away from the man's picture. Anyone with that much money should know how to have his photo taken and be on camera. She rolled her eyes as some soap opera came on. Everything was about money nowadays, on television and in real life. Maxon wasn't even that cute, anyway, she thought. Sure, she'd only seen the one picture, but still. It was his father's money that had everyone throwing themselves at him.

The redhead put her dirty dish in the sink and sighed. Some days, it seemed like she was the only sensible one in the whole city.

From her purse, her phone chimed. Pulling it out, she saw a text from Marlee. Be at 2802 Carolina Avenue in 20 minutes. WEAR A DRESS!"

Chuckling under her breath, America put her phone back in her pocket and went to search her closet for some type of a dress.

-LINE BREAK-

Black flats slapping the ground, America tipped the taxi driver and crossed the street to the bar her friends were all raving about. She surveyed the sign in distaste. The large, neon sign read "Rebels". The design of something that looked like a six-pointed star or a compass rose was also shining in fluorescent lights. Loud music could be heard blasting from the open front door and there was at least one disco ball she could see from outside.

"Oh, good Lord." America mumbled under her breath, stepping into the palace she already knew she was going to hate. The place was packed with people, dancing and leaning against counters, all with drinks in hands. She took a step back and wondered if it was too late to call in sick. Marlee would probably kill her, but she did not sign up for this many people.

"Ames!" Someone yelled, barreling into America in a hug. Marlee somehow managed not to spill her cocktail as she jumped up and down on her friend. "Oh my gosh, you came! I was sooooo sure you were going to cancel at the last minute and then it would just be me and the rest of the girls..."

A tall brunette cut her off. "And, I'm sure that would be just terrible, Marlee." She teased, smirking at America.

"Hey, Celeste." The redhead gave a chuckle at the comment before pushing Marlee off of her. "Yes, I'm here. Not entirely happy about it, but here."

Celeste linked her arm through America's. "Believe me, this is not the worst bar she could of picked. Come on, let's go to the table before we lose our seats." She led America past the bar and the dance floor, towards the back of the building where three more girls sat chatting at a booth. Kriss saw them coming and stood, smiling at the arrival of her friend. Letting America go, Celeste squeezed next to Natalie and Elise. Kriss gave her friend a quick hug before sliding back in the booth and letting Marlee and America sit down.

"Hi!" Natalie greeted cheerfully and Elise gave her a quick smile. America noted that if there was anyone who looked more uncomfortable about being her, it was Elise. Her dark hair was pulled into a tight bun and her skirt looked like it was better suited for a business meeting than a night on the town. However, she still looked more at home than America, who was wearing cardigan buttoned up almost to the top button to avoid any comments.

Kriss looked the newcomer up and down with a slight smile. "I like your dress, Ames." she said. The petite brunette was also rather modestly dressed, though not quite as conservatively as her friend. She had on a navy blue skirt and a longer pink sweater, with her hair in a French braid. Elegant and girly, as usual. Marlee's purple dress was sparkly and exactly her. Celeste's was revealing, as usual, but she definitely had the figure to pull it off.

"Thanks." America smiled slightly before getting to her feet. "I'm going to get a drink, I'll be back in a sec." The rest of the group nodded before starting up a conversation about something Natalie had done at work. America walked to the bar, waiting in line behind a couple making out. She wondered if she could cut them in line. They didn't look like they'd have enough air to order. Luckily, they slid out of line quickly and she made it to the counter. "Can I get a virgin Strawberry Daquiri, please?" She asked the bartender, who nodded and walked to fix her drink. She wondered if he was silently judging her for not ordering alcohol, but tried to ignore that thought. She tried her hardest to make herself invisible to the people sitting at the bar, not wanting to start a conversation with them.

As she waited, she felt a hand wrap around her waist and she jumped abruptly, turning sharply so the person released her. A young man stood behind her, with a dangerous sort of smile and a beer in one hand that didn't look like his first. His dark hair was straight and his eyes seemed intelligent and calculating, but slightly glazed over from the alcohol. "Hey, girl!" He smiled a winning smile that had probably worked on countless girls, but sure as hell was not going to work on her.

She back up, straight into the counter. She glared at him, but her breath quickened. This guy seemed like trouble and she really didn't want that right now.

Obviously enjoying her discomfort, the guy advanced slightly. His hands were tucked into his pockets, causally. "Don't worry, babe. I think I could make you very happy." he gave her a knowing smile and a wink, implying something she definitely did not want to think about.

America looked desperately around for her friends, but they were all the way at the other side of the room and too involved in the conversation to notice. Keeping her tone light and relaxed, she cocked her head and tried to remain calm. "Why?" she asked in a mock curious tone. "Are you leaving?"

The man looked confused. She couldn't tell if it was because he didn't understand the comment or if he just wasn't used to being rejected. He inched closer and put his hand on her back. She felt it sliding down towards her butt and slammed herself, and it, into the counter. She felt the guy his with pain and draw his hand back. Hopefully, now he'd get the message that she wasn't interested and leave.

He didn't get that message. His smile dropped and his eyes blazed with anger. "Feisty, eh? I like 'em feisty." A malicious grin appeared on his face as he grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her forcefully. Thinking fast, she tried to push herself away, but he refused to let go.

Two hands grabbed the man's shoulders and pushed him back hard. "Hey!" A new, male voice growled down at the offending man. A young, blond man was standing next to America, slightly in front of her. "That's my girlfriend you're kissing, there." He said, flashing a confused America a look that clearly meant 'Just go with it'. She gave a slight nod as the blond boy put an arm around her shoulders in a protective sort of way. It wasn't at all like how the first man had tried to grab her. His grasp was soft, barely touching her. It was clear that he was not trying to hook up with her, only trying to protect her from some jerk on the street.

The first guy put his arms up. "Sorry, bro. Uhh... Didn't know." He walked away, clearly not eager for a fight. America let out a breath of relief after he exited the bar. Quickly, her protector withdrew his arm from around her shoulders.

He looked down at her, brown eyes full of concern. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, trying to slow her heart rate down. She didn't believe that something like that could happen at a public place. She tried to make a joke. "Yeah, I think. This is exactly why I don't like bars. Full of drunk people." Oh God, she thought, what if he'd been drinking. A red flush filled her face and she ducked her head.

Luckily, the stranger laughed. He had a very nice laugh, she noted, warm and friendly. "I agree with you! I was pretty sure I was the only one who'd ever come in here and ordered a Coke, by the look the bartender gave me."

"Yeah," she said, smiling slightly, but she couldn't get the vision of the brown haired man out of her head. What if he came back before she could get back to her friends? Sure, Celeste could probably beat him up, but would she?

Noticing her breathing increase, the blond boy slipped off of his chair. "Here, let me walk you home, in case he comes back. Er," he reddened. "I suppose that really isn't a great offer from a stranger. I can call you a cab, though, or walk you to the bus station."

She surveyed him and decided that he didn't seem like he was trying to kidnap her. He had even taken down the suggestion of them walking alone somewhere. "Oh, uh, thanks." She said lamely, not able to think of what to say. There was awkward silence for a moment. "I'm America, by the way." She held out her hand. "Can I call you something other than my hero?"

The man chuckled. "I don't know, I might prefer hero." he wiggled his eyebrows. "Far cooler than my actual name, by a landslide."

America rolled her eyes at him as both of them walked towards the door. He reached it first and held the door for her, which was very polite in America's mind. "Ha ha. But, really, what is it?"

"Maxon." he said. "Maxon Schreave."

I don't really know where I got the idea of this AU, but I did and it's hilarious to right. Also, because I didn't say, the drunk guy hitting on her was Aspen. Mostly because I still wanted to include that love triangle. I know he's a little OOC, but I feel like drunk Aspen would sorta be a jerk lol!

Everyone's like 4-5 years older in this, because they were only like 17/18 in the books. Obviously, that isn't old enough to be drinking.

This isn't going to be super long, maybe four or five chapters. Then I have some more AU ideas :)