Parties.

After Asgard survived the assault from the dark elves a few months back, and peace was restored on Earth, everyone was in a partying mood. The sounds of drunken gay laughter rang through the streets in all the nine realms, and it was the loudest on the main street that led to the palace of Asgard.

Odin had since awoken from his sleep and was still grieving over Frigga, but he was dealing with it in the best way he knew how. As triumphant as Loki's second reign was, it was short yet again, and he had to bolt once his adoptive father stirred. He enjoyed giving out orders and tricking Thor, although he had to do it by convincing everyone he was Odin. He'd be found out after father woke, and not a minute before. He had taken some precautions in hiding the old man when he slipped into the sleep after finding out that he had not only lost his wife, but also supposedly his son. Had he been caught, he probably would get sent back to his cell the moment the guards noticed there were two of them.

Loki rubbed his temple as he hid under his cloak in the dark corner of a pub's outdoor area on the main road, first pitcher of ale in his right hand, nearly empty. Where was he to go now? He couldn't very well stay in Asgard, or go to Jotenheim after his stunt a few years back. He certainly wasn't welcome on Earth. No, not after what he had pulled. Not to mention, the Chitauri were out for his blood after his unapologetic failure. There really wasn't anywhere he could go. He reflected on his past, and the idea that perhaps that he shouldn't have been so bad. Loki wasn't safe anywhere, but there wasn't really an option to start over.

He didn't want to think that his days were numbered, and he might end up living them out alone, cold, in a crevice somewhere, starving. The other option would be not to hide and wait for someone to come hunting for his head. But then again, it's not like most would afford him the luxury of a quick death.

Loki shook his head at the thought.

A feathery touch unintentionally brushed his sleeve as the young barmaid brought his drink and a biscuit to him. The accident sent a tingle through his nerves. Although he was a god that had lived over a thousand years, he was still innocent in the ways with women. Sure he tried to uphold his devil-may-care attitude, but it was just his way of hiding how lonely he really was. All the girls fell for Thor, Fandral…even that Hogun guy had seen more action and kissed more maidens than Loki had.

When he was younger, he had tried to fit in more with Thor, who had made friends with this lovely doe-eyed girl, Sif. She was his first crush and obsession, but like all the girls that would follow, she didn't really notice Loki. When Sif and Thor met, along with the warriors three, Loki was always the odd one. He was only there because he was Thor's brother. In time, he moved on, but every girl was the same. They all swooned over Mighty Prince Thor or Sir Fandral, or at the very least, not interested in silly little prankster Loki. His heart grew cold, and his attitude impatient with women.

When Jane had assaulted him in the castle before their escape last month, he had grown so desperate for female attention that he got turned on by a simple touch, however brutal it was. But of course, she was Thor's true love, and he hers. Loki wondered what had possessed him to almost die for a woman that he knew would never be his, and a mortal at that! He was not really interested in being mistreated. Despite the cruel things he had done, he only ever really wanted to be held and kissed by a pretty girl, whispering pretty things, especially on this beautiful night.

"I wish someone would love me. Just me," Loki said to no one as he looked up into the blackened cerulean night sky splattered with teeming constellations from the corner of the patio on which he sat, upon seeing a star fly across the night sky. Loki didn't want solitude anymore.

Downing his very strong ale in one go, he paid and left. There wasn't anywhere in Asgard for him to stay. He was lucky that no one had yet recognized him now that he had grown out some of his facial hair and wore a cloak. He decided to find his way to Earthrealm the same way he had in times past. It had been almost two years since his attack, he looked different now, and in the event someone recognized him, the people there would be far less lethal than in most of the other places that came to mind.

After a few wrong turns thanks to the side effects of the drink he had earlier, he found his way to Earthrealm, or Midgard, in a place they call "Lost – Angels, California". 'Funny name for a city,' Loki thought. Before he stepped out into the night on the busy boulevard with all these lights, blaring horns and sidewalks adorned with names, he realized that he could no longer stand what he was wearing. He needed to get away from what he was. He needed to lie low.

For a wardrobe change, he decided to adorn his much beloved black suit with green scarf. As much as he liked the difference his beard made, Loki decided it wasn't really him. He got rid of it with a bit of magic, and then decided perhaps he should try some shorter hair, like he had several years before.

He sauntered down the street in style. Earning a mixture of looks from a few humans, but mostly ignored. Thankfully, he was not too conspicuous. As Loki rounds the corner, he bumps into something sopping wet and brown. The thing he bumped into lets out a soft cry.

A/N: I based this story off of a small group of collective confessions off the NaughtyLokiConfessions tumblr blog. It's taken me a while to post this, and I do apologize. Let me know what you think. This chapter is just the tip of the iceberg before the Titanic comes crashing into it and Celine starts singing.