Hello everyone :)

Well, I've been working on this story for awhile now, but I've mainly been focusing on the completion of my other story I have published (A Couple Years Passed).

I've been constantly getting ideas on how to play out the plot of this story, sadly it's not the same with my other one; which is an addition to its slow story build up. I've been itching to publish this story for the longest, so I've decided to get it out here.

I sadly do have a habit of taking awhile to update, mostly because of school. But, since I get out in two months, I'll be on more frequently. Have patience with me, please. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans, or any items of DC Comics.

Now, I give you Changes...

Prologue

The smell of half-lit cigarettes wafted through the thick air; the tar plagued the small confinement. I shield my mouth and nose in disgust; filtering out as much fumed air as possible. The dim lights radiated off the tattered walls that were covered in torn wallpaper and other unrecognizable substances.

From the eight-hundred dollar income, and some change; Yali and I have picked up through her late-night work, and my pick pocketing, this was the best place we could find; amusingly enough on the better side of Crime Alley. I turn to face her with an impassive impression on my face. We couldn't afford better. We've never had enough to have better. Crime Alley, Gotham has been my home for the past seven years. I went from having it all, to losing it within moments.

I lost my family. All of them.

My parents were murdered back on Tamaran, during the Citadel Invasion. Within days, my sister abandoned my brother and I. Leaving us to fend for ourselves, with the scraps she left behind. Thankfully we had enough to survive roughly two months once we escaped to America. We lived in a mild condition apartment in south-east Jump City. We would have been able to survive off the little funds we had left, but the feds got us once a couple of our unnamed neighbors snitched.

That was about nine years ago. And since then I've seen and been through a lot. Thankfully I myself haven't been physically harmed, but I've come across many altercations where I could have been.

Once we were caught by the feds, my older brother; Ryan told me he could make it on his own. He could get an education; find a job. He made it all sound so good, so true…so realistic. But, it was all sound. All his words 'til this day equivalate up to be is a bunch of noise with no meaning. He escaped, and I stayed behind; waiting for him to come for me like he said he would.

It never happened.

And probably never will. About seven years ago, I was transferred to an orphanage in west Gotham due to overcrowding in Jump. That same night, I left and never looked back. I couldn't stay closed up in a shelter with my life going nowhere, depending on someone to come save me. I learnt that the hard way, "Depend on yourself; no one is more trustworthy" is my motto.

I wandered the streets of Gotham for days, with no food, and no shelter; but the one on my back. Within the miles I walked, I ended up in the area I now call home.

I was walking through a dark alley, with one light at the beginning and end of the path; nowhere in between. I was always warned not to do such stupid things, but it seemed much safer than the streets themselves. Hidden away in the shadows was a rugged man in his late 30's, who grasped me roughly from the side, and shoved me into a graffiti covered brick wall.

I screamed, kicked, and fought. I thought it was all over, but I was hastily ripped away from my assaulter. In front of me stood my protector and guide that was and still is by my side 'til this day. Yalissa Adeina. She stands about 5'7, with long jet black hair, and deep naturally tanned skin. Honey eyes that show no sympathy, but beneath it all, she's just a loving girl looking for a way to make it from her struggle. She was on her way home from her performance at the Scarlet City Strip Club, when she had found me, and since that day we've been together.

We learned to struggle together, and here we are today, standing in a shabby one bedroom apartment in Shade Complex, trying to survive each day together.

"Not the best, I know. But, it's the best I could find, and afford. We'll deal anyway; we always do." She spoke blandly as she threw her tattered gym bag on the dusk filled couch, and sunk down beside it.

"Were you able to at least get some food, or did you blow everything?" I ask as I travel to the cobweb filled cabinets, and check our stock.

"I was able to get a couple packs of ramen noodles, and a gallon of spring water." She waved over her shoulder as she turned on the retro television in front of her, and checked what service this place actually offered.

"Of course you did." I murmur as I put a dented tin pot full of water on the range stove, and turned it on to high.

I walk over and sit beside her, as I grab an old literature textbook I found abandoned on the street, and open to the page I left off.

Yali watched the TV intently as a news anchor praised the high society of Gotham their donations to the poor, and funding reconstruction of areas like Crime Alley. My attentiveness wavered between my pages and the speaker reverberating off the set.

"Bullshit." Yali muttered and continued, "Help the ones struggling, or the ones who give up and have others do it for them." She huffed in agitation. "The ones who sit on the roads begging for change, having others give them everything they can't get themselves, compared to the ones who actually try to make whatever they have left just passing salvageable."

She silenced herself to listen more, and I decided to speak up. "We could be doing that." I say as I shut my book, now fully engrossed in the conversation at hand. "Looking for help, and begging for money…but we don't. We could live in a shelter…but we don't. We're not getting anywhere, or making any progress in this state. We're just living." I look her dead in the eyes trying to get the point across; the point I've been saying for years.

"But we haven't given up. We still have hope that we'll get through this…or at least I still have hope." She states unaffected by my efforts once again.

"Well how long can we hope? Hope until things get worse, hope until you can't go back into the strip club and use your body as a tool for money. Or maybe hope that I can find trashed notes and books to keep whatever knowledge I have left within my grasp. We're not going anywhere, Yali!" I yell in frustration, causing her to retaliate the same way.

"Tell me Kori…" She started calmly. "Tell me what you've done to supply us, huh?!" She shifted in her seat, to come face to face with me. "Only stealing when I can't bring home enough because you're too good for our lifestyle." She stood up now, to look down at me. "You're not the fucking rich and royalty you were on Tamaran, darling. You're not Korina Anders. You're Kori! Just fucking Kori, okay?!" She seethes, with her hands gripping at her hair in frustration.

I laughed heartlessly, and chillingly dark. "Of all people who I would think could somewhat comprehend my situation, and the reason I'm in it; I would have definitely thought it'd be you." I picked myself of the couch in a shrug, and grasp my book as if it were a life line. "I'll be out for awhile." I walked to the broken down door with my over grown bangs shadowing my eyes. "Don't come for me."

Before I fully leave out through the door, she waves off carelessly, "Whatever."

It was chilly and the wind was brisk and stinging for late November in Gotham. Fog covered he damp streets, as broken down street lights flickered about. I shiver frequently, and hug my two dollar sweater from the thrift store, flush against my body.

It had to have been an hour or more since I left the house. Not that I would know, since I can't afford a watch. I stopped by the old Village Creek Park, and read my literature book under the minimal street lights. Being constantly disturbed by noises and figures looming in the shadows of the city, I started walking as far away as my feet would take me.

Evidently, I know Crime Alley like the back of my hand, so I would never end up too far off on accident.

I ended up near one of the more populous streets in the area. It's covered in women looking for a quick buck, and men ready to offer up the money. Somewhere nearby, Scarlet City is located. Gangs were dealing and posing on the streets with no shame, and need to hide. I tug my sweater closer to my body as I walk past the groups of people, who are staring at me like I'm a foreign object; knowing I don't blend.

The neon signs splattered across the street were near blinding as they clashed with the dark night sky. I definitely need to get home. Just as I go to turn around, I crash into a woman in a tight all black spandex outfit, with six-inch heels, and a cigarette lit in her mouth.

"The fuck?!" She yells as she stumbles back barely, acting as if I shoved her back six feet, she glowers at me with her cig in between her fingers, as her clique lines up behind her. "Who the fuck are you? Don't you have any manners? Say you're sorry, Cunt." She states in a nasally voice with a thick accent, while giving a face of disgust and impatience.

I blink uninterestedly at her, "Sorry, Cunt." I say boldly, unfazed by this front she's displaying.

"The hell?! How old are you, like twelve? Be a woman about it and have respect." She snorts childishly.

"I'll be a woman about it, once you properly dress like one." I state with ice in my voice.

That statement seemed to have set her off, as she puffs smoke in my face and swats my book out of my hand. "Wanna be a bitch?! Better act like one." She threw her cigarette down on the book, and purred satisfied, "Fetch."

She turned and strutted away with her followers trailing behind her, laughing exaggeratedly. I squat down on the pavement, and lift up the book, angling it in which the cigarette rolls off; in its spot was a small burn mark from the lit ashes that fell in its place.

Behind me I could hear heels clattering to my presence. Not feeling the need to acknowledge whoever had the need to talk to me, I gather myself up, and prepare to head home.

Before I can start my stride, and manicure hand, comes down softly but firmly on my shoulder.

"I know you heard me, darling. It would be disrespectful to walk away." I hear a sultry feminine voice, purr behind me.

I turn to find a rather familiar face looking at me intently. I observed her moon like fluorescent complexion, short pixie cut, and seductive face. "Sorry. Today hasn't been my best day."

"Don't we all have days like that, hun? It's life." She waves off, and continues, "But I must say, most people don't handle situations like that with such bravery. What's your name, hun?" I could feel her concern and interest as she spoke to me.

"Kori." No if ands or buts. Nothing they can track me with; just Kori. If I was anybody who didn't know too well, I'd say that all Anders had died off a long time ago.

"How old are you, Kori?"

"Seventeen."

"And may I ask, what a beautiful seventeen year old like you is doing on the streets at…" She paused to look at her fancy cell-phone, "1:42 in the morning?"

"Heading back home." I shift on my feet bored at the topic of discussion.

"Why were you out at this time anyway? Isn't anybody at home worried?" She asked with parent like concern.

I internally sigh and look distantly past her, down the road. "No. I don't have parents, and the streets are my home. I just share a place with my friend a couple minutes away," I say with no hesitance whatsoever.

"Do you need a—?"

"No. I have a place, and I'm going there now. Thanks for the offer, though." I cut her off.

She sighed sadly, and looked at me with sympathy filled eyes. "If you ever change your mind…my name is Selina. Selina Kyle and I stay in upstate Gotham." She took out a pen and paper, and wrote something down swiftly. "If you ever need any help just call me…" I look at the paper she handed stupidly, since I have no phone in my reach or money to use one. She seemed to have noticed my confusion, and quickly added, "Or just come by here between 12 and 2 a.m. on weekends. I'm always here."

Before I could ask why she would even come by this part of Gotham if she lives in upstate, she was tapped on the shoulder by a well-disguised man in a thick trench coat and scarf covering half of his face. "Selina, we need to go." He speaks in a somewhat recognizable voice. We make eye contact for a while, but say nothing to each other.

She snaps us out of our staring contest when she replies, "Oh, right. I hope I'll see you around Kori…" She calls out, as she walks down the street with the man beside her, and head turned to face me.

"Maybe we just will…" I say quietly as I roll up the paper, and stuff it in my sweater pocket.

Kyle. Selina Kyle. Where have I heard that name….?

OH!

Selina Kyle as in rich-philanthropist, Selina Kyle. Selina Kyle as in long-time girlfriend of Bruce Wayne, Selina Kyle! Oh God!

I halted my hurried footsteps on the cold pavement as I let it all set in. I have the rich philanthropist, who just so happens to be dating Bruce Wayne that is named Selina Kyle's said number in my grasp.

Why exactly she was in the worst part of Gotham, at the worst times possible, is beyond me. All I know is that this changes everything. Everything can be how it should.

She could help me find a place, get a real education, and try to pick back up the scattered scraps of my life.

I run home in excitement, needing to share the news with Yali, now!

I arrive home to realize, the door was left unlocked and all the lights were turned off. I run my hands along the rugged wall in desperate search for the switch. I constantly trip and stumble over the misaligning of the carpet and floor. With one last fall, I crash into my target, in which flicking on the light. I need to get out of here. I think exhaustedly.

I run to the bed room, to find the door knob missing, and the door slightly opened up, leaving easy access and exit. Yali was tossing around in her bed, probably being tormented by the nightmares that infest our dreams too often for our own good. I approach her slowly, not trying to trip on the floor again, and shake her softly arousing her from her torment.

"Mmm, Kori?" She asked groggily as she rubbed her eyes, adjusting them to the small bit of emitting light.

"You wouldn't believe who I met when I was out!" I say happily, bouncing up and down on her bed with glee.

She used her foot and kicked me off the bed, while turning on her side away from me. "I'm pretty sure it's not that important. Tell me later." She waves me off in a tried attempt to dismiss me.

I tug at my untamed hair in frustration. "Selina Kyle."

"What?" She says in amusement, as she turns to me, giving me her full attention on me.

"Selina. Kyle." I say slowly, and then continue, "I met Selina Kyle, while I was out tonight."

She bolts upright, and shrieks in excitement; which is odd to hear from the moody 24 year old. "KORI!" She yells, "Oh my gosh, how did this happen?!"

"Long story short, I got in a lil' altercation with some bitch, and stood my ground. That I guess impressed her…and the fact that I'm 17 years old walking the streets at one in the morning." I move my hands around in the air as I explain myself.

"So what exactly did she want?" She asked with big hopeful eyes.

"She asked…if I had a place to stay, and I said yes, but the streets are my home. Then, she offered to help me whenever I needed it; just for me to go see her, or call her…"

"So do you plan on seeing her again?"

"Yeah…I was thinking about seeing her tomorrow night." I grasped both of her hands and looked her deep in the eyes. "I can't live like this anymore…we can't. This is our chance, we have to take it."

She looked away momentarily seeming to have an internal battle with herself, and looked back at me with watery eyes, and a distant smile. "Your chance. You take it; I'm doing well on my own. "She paused and looked off into the shadows of the room. "I'm doing okay; I still have chances, and whatever education I have. I got a job request awhile ago to do some tech work on some east coast music tour. It was awhile ago that I got it, but they said the offer is open to me until the beginning of next year." She looked back at me with her tears now streaming. "This life…" she waved her hands in different directions of the room, and then continued, "Is all I know. I've grown up with it, and lived the struggle. But, I have a chance to make something…be something. Now's your time to find yours." She brushed my bangs away, and gave me a soft kiss on my forehead. "Go make something of your life. And do it so you don't turn into me." She gave a sardonic smile, "A woman so afraid of change, that I'd live this life for as long as I could…"

I was now tearing up and biting my lip to stop from sobbing. "Why didn't you tell me…?" I croak out.

"I could never leave you. I've become so accustomed to you in the years, that being around you is natural. I couldn't leave you to fend for yourself again, while I go off and make a living."

That in all, was probably one of the nicest, most sincere things I've ever heard. "So you stuck around and lived in this hell-hole with me, rather than going off and making something of yourself…" I grasp her arms, and pull her into a tight embrace.

"Thank you…" I speak softly, as I cry into her shoulder.