This is my first story for American Horror Story. Very regrettably, I do not own the character of Tate (much less any other AHS characters). This is based on his general character/story, but seeing as the show is still going on, I don't know how much it will follow towards the end. I do not know any more than you do, so I am just going to pretty much use the character itself instead of following the story exactly. Now, enough of the long disclaimer…

Chapter One: Meeting

November 1993

The classroom was at the end of the hall; the only light at the end was feeble and fluttered on and off. It looked like I was walking into a dark abyss in a forgotten corner of the school. Or at least, that's what my teenaged brain saw it as. I had been dreading this day for weeks and it was finally here; nothing was going to make me see this change of schools as a good thing.

It wasn't like I had never been to a new school before. I had the drill down by now, but it never got any easier. I knew that no matter what school it was, it would only be filled with misery and humiliation just like the last. My father didn't give a shit; as long as I was in school and away from him, the school or even the state did not make a difference.

I took a deep breath before I put my hand out and opened the door. The mindless chatter of the other students spilled out into the empty hallway. Class had not officially started yet, but I was late enough not to slip in unnoticed. There was no way I could avoid the "New Girl" introduction this time.

I let the door close quietly behind me, but soon eyes began to make their way towards me. One by one, the voices stopped until the only sounds in the classroom were the clock and a lone pencil scratching some paper.

Well, at least one person isn't paying attention, I thought, bitterly.

I reluctantly dragged my feet over to the teacher's desk. An older woman in her sixties looked up at me from behind a sheet of paper. Her appearance was sharp; grey hair pulled so tightly into a bun it stretched her face painfully upwards. Her eyes were a steel grey colour and they were looking me up and down like I was something that should have been left outside.

"Ah, I see you must be the new student," she declared with distaste, "How nice of you to dress up on your first day of school."

Again, the eyes in the classroom burned right into my skin. I heard a couple of delighted giggles. Everyone was enjoying this little show already. The remark did not bother me in the slightest. In my mind, everyone else should feel awkward for spending so much time and money just to look exactly the same.

It was indeed a fact that I was not dressed like the other girls in the classroom. I had tight ripped jeans tucked into combat boots. My oversized, faded t-shirt hung over one shoulder. My long hair was left to its own devices; brown, wavy tendrils falling down my back to below my shoulders. I did not understand the close attention to clothing and fashion that girls my age had and it obviously showed.

"Where should I sit?" I said pointedly, deciding to ignore this hateful old hag.

Mrs. Caldwell, according to the tarnished nameplate on the desk, was not quite done getting under my skin though.

"Your name?" she added with a sneer.

You know damn well what it is, bitch. It's on that sheet two inches away from your face, I wished I could say.

"Shiloh Mackenzie," I replied in a monotone.

Caldwell made a huge deal of scanning down the sheet and checking it, "That seems to be correct."

I stared blankly back at her, not about to grant her any satisfaction in her harassment.

"You can take that seat there in the back," she said, a grin spreading over her face.

Behind me, a couple of snickers were not quite muffled in time. I turned and made my way down the aisle without as much as glancing into the faces of anyone. If sitting in the back of the classroom was supposed to be a punishment, then Caldwell had seriously misjudged me; it was exactly where I wanted to be.

I threw my bag down on the floor beside the empty desk and plopped down into the seat with a sigh. This day was already too long for my liking. I focused my eyes down on the grainy surface of the desk. Someone had carved a crude picture into the wood.

All high schools are exactly the same, I rolled my eyes.

I straightened up with a start as a balled up piece of paper landed on my desk. Thinking it was just from one of the snobby girls sitting a few rows ahead of me, I immediately just brushed it off the desk. Seconds later, another one landed in its place. With an angry shake of my head, I smoothed out the paper on the desktop.

That wasn't very nice of you to ignore me like that. I was trying to see if you wanted to get out of this hellhole instead of going to second period.

-P.S…I like the clothing choice. Caldwell's just jealous because its hard to find nice clothes when you have a stick up your ass.

I had to hold back a small laugh. I glanced up and scanned the seats near mine. In the one a few feet beside me sat a boy who pushed back wavy blonde hair to look at me with dark, piercing eyes. He tilted his head to the side, asking for an answer.

I gave a quick nod. He smiled at me in an almost arrogant way and nodded back at me. I didn't know what I was getting myself in to, but it was better than spending another hour in this place.

The boy turned around and continued penciling something into a tattered notebook; seemingly totally oblivious to the lecture the teacher was going on about in a steady drone. With his back turned, it was safe to give him a quick evaluation. He was dressed in the same way I was; old jeans and a grey shirt under a long sleeved flannel. My first thought was Kurt Cobain lookalike, but I'd wait until I talked to him to label him as just another middle class kid pretending to be into grunge music.

Finally, after what seemed like at least forty hours, the bell rang and interrupted the teacher midsentence. Everyone immediately began shoving books into bags and getting up. I waited out the chaos until most of the people had bolted out the door before I stood up. By then, the boy was already out of the room. My stomach clenched in anger at the thought of being stood up within the first hour of class.

I roughly grabbed my bag and stomped out the door, running into a hard shape outside the door before I even saw where I was going.

"Where are you running off to? I thought we had an agreement," an amused voice said.

I looked up and into the eyes of the mysterious boy. He looked back at me intensely. I felt like he was seeing right into me and knew all of the insanity that was me; I could see it reflected back in his own eyes.

"Shiloh, right?" he asked, breaking the spell.

I nodded, "And who might you be?"

He gave me another smirk before grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the emergency exit, "I'm Tate Langdon."

That's it for the first story. Let me know what you think. I know this one was a little slow, but I'm getting into it. It's hard when I don't know his backstory or anything, but I love this character, so I'm kind of winging it a little. Keep with me, I promise I have good things planned!