Hi guys. You must be thinking "why isn't she working on that other story?" Well, you know, muses happen, and they need to be taken care of. This will be a story of a few chapters, may be continued. I will get back to my other story!

Anyway, when I first saw Transformers The Last Knight I thought Viviane was going to be a Lara Croft character a la Transformers, but sadly not really. So, this is me making her into more of a Lara Croft character. Also, more Hot Rod and Viviane! They were so cute together! I hope they interact more in the next film! Hot Rod is adorable. I'm also getting rid of Cade x Viviane because ew, no. I'm making her younger because it fits the idea I had better. In this she is 16. I took some aspects of the newer Lara Croft videogames and merged them with Viviane. The organization named Trinity is an organization LC fights in the videogames but I modified it to this universe. I don't own anything except the idea.

Also, I'm American, not English. If I get anything wrong, sorry I don't know your country! I kept forgetting you guys drive on the other side of the road and the driver's side is on the other side, lol.

I hope you enjoy! If you do please review, like, or follow!


Viviane was a smart girl.

While her IQ was never measured, she was always told she was a genius. She picked up things very quickly, such as mathematics and astronomy, and excelled in her classes. She went to a private school that allowed her to skip a grade due to her diligence. She would always get top marks in both the classroom and athletics. By the age of 10 she had read one hundred books, some classics but mostly about history, a subject which fascinated her. She got that enthusiasm from her dad, people told each other.

Viviane was a sad girl.

What people didn't know was that even if you're rich and smart and pretty, you can still be sad. When she was 6 her mother was shot while on a walk with her and her father. She later died from her injuries in the hospital. Ever since then, her father has been indifferent to her. Almost every day he would disappear into his study and throw things in frustration when he didn't understand. He stopped coming to her sporting events and award recognition ceremonies. Her father spoke to her less and less every day and never concerned himself with her progress in school and life. Sometimes he would leave for a week or two in that Citroen DS of his and leave Viviane in the care of the maids. He would never speak of where he went or what he did during these times. Soon, she stopped asking. Or caring.

Viviane is now 16 years old and fed up with her life.

She is laying on her queen bed in her large room, limbs stretched out and staring at the ceiling. Viviane, or Viv as she likes to be called nowadays, retreated to her room after another argument with her father. Not only was she just now informed that the mug she made for him when she was 7 was broken after he threw it against the wall in frustration 3 weeks ago but a maid had also brought 7 suitcases into her room and set them down on the ground.

"What are those for?" she has asked.

The maid, a Japanese woman in her forties named Harriet, turned to her with a sad smile. "Viviane-"

"Just Viv."

Harriet straightened. "Viv. I'm sorry, but your father has requested that you pack your things. He is sending you to an elite boarding school for girls in Scotland, one that focuses on STEM."

Viv's mouth nearly dropped to the floor. Her already tear-filled eyes leaked tiny droplets. "What?" she barely got out in a whisper.

"He's had this prepared for about a month now. He asked us not to tell you for he wanted it to be a surprise."

"What, did he think he was doing me a favour?" she shouted. "I don't even like STEM! If he ever bothered to listen he'd know I was interested in history, English, and archaeology!"

"I tried telling him that, honey, but-"

"But he didn't listen to you. He listens to no one but himself! Everything is what he wants and how he wants it!"

After Viviane demanded Harriet to leave her alone is when she fell back onto her bed and cried. About a half hour later, all her tears gone, she lay on her bed with a headache. Slowly, she turned her head to the side to look at her clock. It read 8:35pm.

No, a voice in her head said. No. I will not take this anymore. I cannot.

She slowly rose to a sitting position, one hand cupping her head to ease the throbbing her crying had caused, and looked at the suitcases. They were of varying shapes and sizes yet all coloured a pastel pink. Each of them were metal and had locks to prevent thieves from taking what was inside. The set must have cost a thousand dollars. Her father wasn't even her father anymore: he was her personal bank full of never ending money.

Her mind set, she took a medium sized suitcase and filled it with clothes and toiletries. In another, smaller suitcase she packed 3 books- a childhood favourite, Merlin's Tales of Dragons, A Clockwork Orange that she plans to reread, and a scrapbook a friend made for her containing pictures of her and her friends throughout the years- boots, a Swiss army knife, a flashlight, and a throw blanket. In her black North Face backpack she stuffed her wallet, favourite hat (a beanie she knitted with help from Georgina, a maid and a very close friend who recently passed), and laptop and charger. She decided against bringing her phone, deciding it would be too easy for her to track, so she wrote down her friend's phone numbers on a slip of paper and slid it into her backpack too.

She looked up at her clock. 10:01pm.

Not a single person came in to check up on her, ask her if she was okay. Ever since Georgina died a few weeks ago, some of the good maids- the ones who cared- left to avoid bringing up bad memories, so the maids in her house now were either new or didn't form attachments during their work. Long story short, the only person in her house that cared about Viviane was Viviane.

Viv quickly changed into a pair of jeans, a long sleeved maroon t-shirt, black sneakers, and a black hoodie. She tied her long dark brown hair behind her in a bun and pulled the hood up. She slid the backpack over her shoulders and in her right hand she grabbed her two suitcases, one on top of the other, and headed over to her door. Her hand hovered over the knob, hesitating, and she looked back over her shoulder. Her dark blue eyes scanned the room one last time, soaking in what she would be missing, and she muttered a small 'goodbye' before slowly opening the knob to her room.

All of the maids had gone home for the day, of this she knew, so it was only her and her father left in the house. She figured he was either in his room asleep or in his study throwing more precious mugs against the wall, but she still tread quietly on the off chance he stepped out to go to the bathroom or grab a drink or some food.

She carried her luggage down the stairs and left them by the foot of the stairs. When she arrived at the kitchen, she checked around the corner first to see if her father was in there. When she saw he wasn't, she put her backpack down on the table and filled it with food and drinks. She zipped up the bag after she was satisfied with enough rations to last her a few days, grabbed her luggage, and headed into the garage.

Stepping inside and closing the door behind her, she turned on the light. There were 3 cars in total in that garage but sitting in front of them all, by the garage door, was that stupid black Citroen DS her father adored. In fact, she was sure he loved that car more than he loved her. Viv hesitated before hitting the button that opened the garage door. While it was relatively silent, it still created a lot of noise and she cringed until it was over. She stood in place for a few moments, craning her head to listen for any sounds of movement from her father upstairs, before smiling to herself when she heard nothing.

She made her way over to the car, grabbing the keys on the way there. The suitcases she placed in the trunk of the car but she placed the backpack on the passenger seat. She slid the key into the ignition and turned, the car roaring to life. Taking a deep breath she drove the car out of the garage and into the night.

While all her friends' parents taught them how to drive, her father sent her to a driving school to practice in other people's cars. She owned only a provisional driving license but thanks to her ability to catch onto things quickly, driving was a breeze for her. She just hoped she wouldn't get pulled over.

Viv set out for the bank first and parked in front of the ATMs but far away enough that the car's license plate wouldn't end up on security cameras. She kept her hood up and her head down while using the ATM and while walking toward it. Using her father's credit card she withdrew $1500 from the machine, the max the credit card would allow. She didn't want to be tracked via phone or plastic payments so she resorted to cash for now. Tomorrow, she promised herself she would buy a prepaid phone to call only her most loyal friends. After the withdrawal was complete she snapped the credit card in half, threw it into a trash bin, and drove off in the car.

Viv looked at the car's clock: 10:47pm. She was pretty tired from all the crying and the stress and decided to drive an hour down a road she's never been on before and parked in the middle of a field. After turning off the car she got her blanket from the trunk and laid down in the backseat.

This was the first time tonight that she stopped moving and relaxed, both physically and mentally. She tried not to think about what she was doing, what she was leaving behind, but she couldn't help it. She has considered running away before but she was never serious nor attempted. Now here she was, sleeping in her father's car in the middle of a field an hour outside Oxford with absolutely no plans for her life.

If there was one thing Viv prided herself on was her smarts. She'll figure out how to live within a week, picking it up as quickly as she picks up other things. She can find a way to make or secure money, maybe buy a camper and attach it to the back of her car. She only has another year before she turns 17 and can get her license and until then she can probably forge one. She can finish her last year of school online with her laptop and go to college, live in a dorm or a flat. She can finally choose her own path in life, do what she wants to do when she wants to do, and be rid of that horrid place she called home.

After talking herself into it more and calming herself down she sighed and wiggled to get comfortable on the warm leather seats (why were they warm?). It was about 10 minutes later when her body resigned herself to sleep.

A black sedan came to a stop by the side of the road and turned off. The driver sat back in their chair and focused on a single car parked in the middle of an open field. They leaned back in their chair and crossed their arms, letting out a deep sigh.

They can wait.