Nine years passed before Beck saw Jade again. A lot can happen in almost a decade. People change with the circumstances, people change like the weather, and people move on. Jade stayed in England, and after a year and a half, Rosalie joined her, and eventually fostered her. She went to an all girls private school, wearing a uniform that itched and a ponytail that looked stupid. This year, though, she'd put her foot down. She was going back to Hollywood this year.

Beck stayed at home, withdrawn, lifeless, only getting up to go to the bathroom or have a drink, or maybe if he was feeling particularly cheery, mutter a couple of one word responses to Cat, who had blocked the best year of her childhood out, returning to her happy go lucky personality. He finished middle school, and opted to go to a performing arts high school, to live out his dream as an actor, thought it choked him up, because that's what she wanted too. He imagined her in the audience sometimes, smiling at an empty seat.

Cat had been quiet, but still chirpy. She remained happy through her plummeting grades, through her father's redundancy, through her brother's deep depression, and through his sectioning. She stayed positive through her own bi-polar diagnosis, and her father yelling at her to get rid of the god-awful blood red hair color, because quote: "It reminds me of your mother the day she died." And she survived Beck's freezing out, as he was slowly warming to her. Thawing.

Jade missed Beck and Cat and thought of them everyday. She had entertained briefly that Andrea, Beck's mother, had helped her father move her to England, but dismissed it. She wouldn't have, surely? But she did wonder why they hadn't looked for her. Even though her name wasn't Jade West anymore - now it was Luna Mitchie- they could have looked. She pushes the thought out of her mind. She was going back to Hollywood, and she was so excited.

Rosalie wasn't going with her - and she was very glad indeed. Her skin crawled hearing her voice, calling for her, like that journey to the airport. Daddy hadn't come back for Jade, and she was happy happy happy because she'd be at a loss of words for him. Good riddance, she'd thought. On June 22nd, she got on her plane ride and never looked back. She was fifteen, and had the world at her feet. She could purge herself of thoughts of the last decade of her life. This was her life now.

It never occurred to her, that he was still looking for her, that she was grieved for even now, that she might have actually meant something to each other. Maybe because the pain she was in foreshadowed anything else in her otherwise empty life, maybe because she was too busy wishing to be realistic. She spat on the doorstep as she walked out with her suitcases. If she was ever in a position that forced her to go back there, Jade thought, the option of shooting herself would be a much better choice. Luckily, she hadn't missed any school. She'd get over to Hollywood and stay in her hotel room for three days, and then she'd move to the youth hostel. It was that, or a foster home, they said. And Jade's short stay in a foster home when she was a child brought a chill to her spine. But she wasn't going to stay in that youth hostel. She had an agenda. She was going to find Cat and Beck if it killed her, if it was the last thing she did on this earth.

She pushed her way through the crowds of the airport and sat herself down with a drink. She couldn't deny she looked out of place in the airport coffee house. She was rich and everyone around her knew it. She didn't act snobby, but her designer boots shone for the strip lighting fixtures, and her newly washed hair bounced on her shoulders happily, her slightly too long bangs irritating her eyes, and the coat of black nail polish sat un-chipped on her nails. She drank the coffee halfheartedly and left most of it in the trash can.

"Hi, I'm Miss Luna Mitchie, I need my ticket for flight 229? It's to Hollywood." Jade inquires at the check-in desk, wrinkling her nose at the snooty lady trying to tell her that she'd need to go over to the other desk. "This is check in! I'm trying to check in! Can I just have the damn ticket, please?"

"Ma'am, you'll just have to-"

"Where is your manager?" Jade demands rudely. The lady looks flushed, and quickly gives Jade her ticket after all. "Thank you!" Jade storms off angrily, but then scolds herself. "Now, come on, Jade. You're going home. Pull yourself together, you silly girl."

When the plane finally lands, Jade is the first one off, running to security, and showing her passport. She is waved through and she runs to the doors. The heat of Hollywood hits her like a bomb. She closes her eyes and laughs, and cries at the same time.

"I'm home!" She whispers, her heart bursting with happiness.

Dragging her suitcase behind her, Jade squints at the map in front of her face, and then turns left. She looks up, and sees the hotel. She's so tired she just wants to roll into bed, but she walks up the stairs to the desk, and hands over her details.

"Room 13." Jade nods, and takes her key from the overly smiley lady at the desk.

"Thanks."

In her room, Jade throws her luggage into the small wardrobe and slams the door. She kicks off her flip-flops and stuffs her hair into a topknot on the center of her head. She removes her clothes and gets into the shower. The hot water relaxes and calms her. She then puts on her black skinny jeans and a blue top, adorned with butterflies. She puts on her favorite boots and brushes out her hair.

Now it was time to find what she'd been waiting for, for almost 10 years.