Who I Am.

Hey guys &girls. This is my first fanfic ever so I would really like to know what you think.

This is going to be a short chapter fic, maybe 5 to 6 chapters at the most. I don't want to overdo it, on my first fic. No beta so...I take full responsibility for TyOps -- that was done on purpose :)

This is a slight Alternate Universe fic, don't worry though, Chase/Andie all the way. Still has the same characters as the movie, but they are different and lead different lives. And it will be told from different POV's - check the beginning of each chap. or section and it will tell you.

Summary: Andie's choice to start fresh after her mother's death. Not as boring as it sounds.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, None of the characters are mine. Gosh, Isn't RH3 FINE?? I could eat him with a spoon...and a little chocolate syrup. Mmm..Good.

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Andie's POV

September 2003 - August 2007

The music that is playing is driving me insane, that is the only thing that has really got my attention. Today, is the day, of my mom's funeral and all that is playing is some music that makes everybody cry, including me. I am sitting in the first pew at the church watching as people go up to her, place their hand on her arm or her cheek and then turn to give me a look filled with sadness. The one thing that I learned from my mom about funerals is that you shouldn't grieve their death, but celebrate their life - no matter how old the person was, just be glad that you had a chance to know them or be related to them.

My mom was my best friend, ever since I can remember it had just been the two of us. She was my hero, next to my dad. He was killed when I was four in the Gulf War fighting for terrorism. I don't really remember him except the service picture that I have on my dresser in my room. My looks come from a combination of both of my parents. I look like my dad but have my moms eyes, and body style.

Mom was the person who introduced me to music and the love that goes with it. I am not familiar with just one kind, I like them all...Except the stuff that is beating off my ear drums at the moment. Anyway, she took me to many opera preformances and several ballets, as well as musicals. So, you can say that I got a feel for everything. When I was five, my mom thought that it would be good to enroll me into dance classes at the local studio, to keep my mind focused on something other than wondering where my dad was. I learned every aspect of ballet before I was ten, and performing on stage at the age of twelve. One day, I was early to my private lesson at the studio and walked in on some kids rehearsing what appeared to be a routine, but it was dancing like I had never seen - like they were from a different planet. Ever since then, I would come early and about six months later, I asked if they could show me some moves. I slowly got the hang of it and because I wasn't sure if my mom would approve, I kept it to myself. That was until my mom made me come with her to a production that was trying to raise money for a local school.

When we arrived, there were people a little bit older than me, politely walking around asking for donations to go towards the fundraiser. Mom being who she was wrote out a check and gave it to a teacher, who I was assuming worked for the school. We watched the preformance, there were several different rountines, a couple being like the kids at the studio. When we left that night, all my mom could talk about was how amazing those few routines were. I decided then, I would tell her that I could dance like that. She was amazed and told me that she was coming to me next lesson so that she could see me. From then on out, my mom was more focused on my dancing than she ever had been in my entire life, she loved that I could dance more than one way.

My dance instructor told my mom about a prestigious school called Bolshoi Prepatory that was located in Salisbury, Maryland, it was roughly two hours away from Baltimore. I started there when I was thirteen and continued going until my sophomore year, concentrating on all styles of dance. Now before you ask yourself, whether or not I come from a family who has money, the answer would be yes. My mom was brought up with money, and alot of it - and when my dad was killed the government for some reason sends the widow or parents of the soldier a check for 425,000 dollars. Rest in Peace, Dad, but it seems to me now that I understand what happened, my dad is worth more dead than alive. Now, the check that my mom got from the government we didn't need and I knew we never would, so she invested it in my name and in the twelve years that it has been sitting at the bank it has nearly tripled. So, yes it is safe to say that I do not need to worry about any money for the rest of my life.

Now that my mom is gone, I will be moving in with her best-friend Sarah Johnson and her son Charlie. I am not that familiar with either of them, but if my mom trusts her, then so will I. They arranged all this before my mom's last final months. It is my summer break from Bolshoi, so mom, me, Sarah and Charlie had been spending some time together these last few weeks, mainly for me to get to know her and her son, so that I wasn't moving in with a complete stranger.

We have made our way to the cemetery, Sarah is standing beside me holding onto Charlie and my hands with each of her own. She keeps looking at me and through my facial expressions, I tell her that I am okay. The doctors told us that my mom would only have until the end of May and that was it, but she made a promise that she would see me dance one last time at a play and she kept her promise. My most recent performance was on July 14th and she died two days later. As I watch the casket get put into the wall, I kiss my hand and place it against the marble one last time, as the priest recites a few words from the bible, before they insert the granite headstone on the outside to seal the hole. The people that came to the funeral have slowly left leaving just the four of us: the priest, me, Sarah, and Charlie.

"I am going to take Charlie to the car, you come over there when you are ready, okay, Andie?" Sarah says softly.

All I do is nod my head, not looking up. Sarah turns to leave, taking Charlie with her. I am not sure how long I stand there just staring at the wall, but when I finally realize that I shouldn't keep Charlie and Sarah waiting any longer, I make my way back to the car before getting in.

"You okay?" She asks me.

"Yeah, as good as can be expected. I'm hungry, can we go get something to eat?" I ask, while laying my head against the window, staring out at the grass covered grounds.

"Yeah, what do you want?"

"Italian." That is all I have to say. A few minutes later, we pull into the parking lot of Olive Garden. Sarah knows that this is mine and my moms favorite place. We head inside and are seated by the maitre'd. We are seated a couple tables down from a table full of girls about my age, probably sixteen maybe seventeen. They are being snobbish and rude to the guy that is their waiter. I look up at Sarah and see she noticed them, too.

"Sarah, it doesn't matter how rich I ever get. Hit me upside the head, if I start treating people like they are filth, just because they have to work for money." I give Sarah a grin, as she laughs.

"Don't worry, Andie. I'll tell you, but I have a feeling that won't be a problem, considering you are moving in with someone who isn't filthy rich." She's still smiling at my comment.

That is another thing that I learned from my mom. She may have grown up rich her entire life but she never acted like she was better than anyone else. She always helped the less fortunate and treated everybody equal, whether it was at a monthly fundraiser or a program for less fortunate citzens of the community. I always acted like that, too. I never treat anybody like they are scum and I don't flaunt that I have money. I see people with friends that are only their friends because their status quo with the community, like the more money you have...the better you are.

The next few weeks flew by and before I know it, I was dealing with things I never in a million years thought that I would deal with, with being sixteen and all. I officially am the sole owner of a mansion and now that I live two hours away from Bolshoi, I decided, with Sarah's help, that I would transfer schools. It would be too much of a commute to try and travel back and forth to the school everyday. I was also thinking that I needed a new start, a new move, a new school, new friends, and a new family. My new school is called Maryland School of the Arts. I heard that I had to audition to get into the school, but when Sarah and I took my transcipts to the school to schedule for the audition they told me that there was no need. They had said something along the lines that since I was coming from a school like Bolshoi, then it wasn't required. I guess it just depends on the amount of money your family has. Sarah lives in a three bedroom house, its not big, but its big enough for us three. The only thing that I need now is to make new friends. I came to the conclusion, every since I seen those girls in Olive Garden a few weeks back, that since Sarah lived on the middle-class side of town and nobody knows me here that I wanted to see what it was like to be middle-class for once in my life, to see how others treated me.

I can be my own person. It was a fresh start.

That was what I kept thinking as I walked to school first thing on this lovely monday morning. I told Sarah that I wanted to take the bus to school instead of her dropping me off. She seemed a little worried at first, but I assured her that I would be fine. Now, as I stand on the sidewalk in front of the school looking up at the two sets of double wooden doors - I think...what did I get my self into? My thoughts end abruptly as someone bumps into me.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's okay." I say softly to the dirty blonde headed boy, as I look back up to the school. I don't want to appear worried, but this is the first, first day of school that I haven't had my mom here with me and it sucks. My thoughts are interrupted by the boy again, this time he's holding his hand out to me.

"I'm Chase, are you new around here?"

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OOOOOO, its a cliffy!!

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Let me know what you think. Smiles

Thanks for reading. WYN