AN: It's my first attempt at fanfiction, so here goes nothing. Reviews are more than welcome. I want to keep the AN up here short so see ya at the end. Story will be from both Ana and Christian POV and the occasional Gail or Taylor.

Christian POV (CPOV):

"You haven't had sex in four months." Flynn states. "This is the longest you've gone."

I sigh. "I haven't found anyone I'd want to be my submissive. Elena keeps handing me names of girls, but I feel no interest."

"Are they unattractive?" Flynn asks.

I shrug. "They're brunette, and as far as beauty goes, none of them are ugly. They fit my type perfectly."

"Yet you have no interest."

"None."

"Why?"

"I don't know." It's the truth. "I don't do more. I am not a hearts and flowers person."

"But your current pursuit isn't satisfactory anymore, is it?" Flynn gently pushes. "Don't answer right now. Part of your homework will be to evaluate that answer."

"What's the other part?" I ask, intrigued. Flynn rarely gives me homework.

"I want you to read this memoir. I think it might be illuminating." Flynn answers, passing me a book. The title is Out of the Darkness. I've never heard of it.

"Memoir?" I ask.

"The author is an acquaintance of mine. She wrote down some of the moments that have shaped her life. I think you'll be surprised by her narrative." Flynn doesn't offer more, and the rest of our session is taken up with discussing my relationship with Elena and how it's changed again. I used to appreciate her assistance in finding submissives, I now see it as a nuisance. I've scheduled fewer lunches with her, and the current lunches are more about business than my personal life.

The book Flynn gave me for homework captures my attention as Taylor drives us to Escala. The cover is cream and the words are in gold. The design on the cover is what appears to be a girl separating herself from her shadow. It's simple, yet captivating. I open the book. The dedication is simple. "To Ray" is all it reads.

"I didn't exist until I was fifteen. Not on paper, at least. Before I was fifteen, I was Jane Doe. Or Ana Doe, if we're being more accurate. Nancy, Carla's mentor and best friend, used to be a nurse. She delivered me when Carla was just seventeen herself. Her parents disowned her when she got pregnant, and her boyfriend dumped her. Pregnant and homeless, she found herself walking the streets of New York. Nancy claims she refused to get an abortion because she loved me. I have very few memories of her love, and many memories of her neglect. But I suppose that's the danger of drugs."

The first paragraph shocks me. She seamlessly weaves reflections from an older self with her depiction of her beginnings. Her storytelling is captivating, and I already know that I won't put this book down until I'm finished.

"Mr. Grey, sir, we're at Escala." Taylor opens my door. I look up, surprised and not ready to stop reading.

I quickly fold the corner of the page I'm reading and walk quickly towards the elevator. When we enter the foyer, I turn to Taylor.

"Ask Gail to prepare a simple sandwich and tell her to bring it to my room around 6:30 tonight." He nods and I rush to my room, kicking off my shoes and taking off my tie and suit jacket before flopping onto my bed to resume reading. I'm conflicted between reading as fast as possible and savoring each word.

"On my fourth birthday, I got four scars. It was the only birthday gift I ever got, and I never wanted birthday gifts after that day. I woke up to watch Nancy poke a needle into Carla's neck. I cried because I thought Carla was going to die. Nancy explained that grown women need their magic syrup to start the day, and that I should never grow up. If needles were growing up, I was content to stay little forever. It would take many years before I realized that normal people don't need magic syrup to start the day. Coffee, maybe. But not heroin. Carla had just a little bit too much magic syrup, though. The sun had gone down and our little apartment was lit by one lantern when Carla's pimp walked in, smoking a cigarette. The awful scent made me cough, but there was no room to escape the stench. I remember lots of yelling and Carla crying, though I don't remember the exact conversation, which I count as a blessing. Furious at her withdrawal, he yanked me out from underneath our blanket. Nancy was out with a john, though she used to call it "meeting a frog that will hopefully turn into a prince." I could never decide if I was grateful that they tried to give me a farce of a childhood, or angered at their perception of my intelligence. Carla cried that it was my birthday. Her pimp decided that to celebrate, he'd mark me as his property because Carla failed to meet his quota. He stubbed his cigarette on my arm before relighting it only to repeat the procedure three more times. Burning flesh is a strange smell, even stranger than his cigarette. The scent still haunts my nightmares. Before he left, he stated, "When she's sixteen, she's mine." I crawled to Carla, ignoring the pain and craving her comfort. That was the first time she said, "I'm sorry, baby girl." She didn't say it often, but when she did, I always wondered what exactly her apology covered. Was it apologizing for everything since the last apology, or if it was for an unspecified instant."

I'm bawling when Gail walks in with my sandwich. It's impossible to not get lost in the tale she's recounting, and her older-self musings. I already begin to see the similarities between my childhood and hers. I assume she's fifteen when she gets out, when I was three. I don't think I would have survived twelve more years of Grace hadn't rescued me.

"Are you okay, Mr. Grey?" Gail asks, setting the sandwich and a glass of water down on my bedside table. She notices the book I'm reading. "You're going to need a new tissue box." She comments.

I look up. "Have you read it?"

She smiles. "The ladies in my book club read it together. We had to stop so many times. I think my copy even has small wrinkles from my tears."

I wipe away my tears. "Tell me there's a happy ending."

"I won't spoil it for you, Mr. Grey. Although I will say that it's worth finishing." Gail says, before dismissing herself. "I'll come back in an hour to collect the dishes."

I eat with one hand and flip the pages with the other. There are moments I can't even see through my tears.

I reach the point where I need a break for my emotions. I've never felt this much about any book or movie, but the similarities are striking and I understand why Flynn chose this book for me. Curious about the author, I dogear my page and flip to the back cover flap. There's a short about the author that doesn't offer much information, which makes sense because the memoir is basically the extended version. It's the picture that strikes a chord in my heart. Ana is beautiful, even in the clearly posed black and white author picture.

I fall asleep while reading, and instead of the normal nightmares, I dream of a girl with brown hair and blue eyes.

AN: that's the end of my very first chapter! Ana in person and not book form makes her debut next chapter and they'll meet. It will not be an instant relationship but I think the build will be worth it. Review please!