Sebastian's Point of View

I make my way down the crowded street, trying to make my way back home. It's been a long, hard day and I just want to get home. I was up at the crack of dawn to get to class and I've been going on ever sense. I sigh, forcing myself through a crowd of people, unapologetic to everyone I may have shoved in the process.

I don't have a clue what they're all there for, but it seems there's always something going on around here; anything from some kind of an event to a fatal shooting. Truth be told I gave up keeping up with it all a long time ago.

I moved to Los Angeles after high school to go college, but mostly because there's a lot more acting opportunities out here. All kinds of major productions are in the making all around me, and if I'm lucky, I might just stumble into one at the right time someday.

But it has plenty of cons, as well. I probably live in one of the most dangerous parts of the city because that's all that I can afford. Sounds weird for someone who comes from such a wealthy background, but your parents are only going to support you so much when you're so far away. I guess it's not so bad if you're stealthy about getting around and don't mind double-checking your doors and windows every night.

I glance nervously over my shoulder when I a gunshot fired from a few streets over. Stuff like this happens all the time, but it never fails to make me flinch. I try not to think on it much but I usually can't really help it. A few more shots are fired and I flinch again, quickening my pace.

"Scared?"

I nearly jump out of my skin, whirling around to see a dark figure leaning against a wall, smoking a cigarette and casually approaching me.

I quickly gather my wits, trying to play it cool, "Startled, that's all." I force a smile, trying to get a better look at him.

"Fair enough," he mutters, in a deep, persuasive voice, "I can hardly blame you. If I looked like that, I wouldn't feel safe out here, either."

I nod, biting my lip, "How do you mean?" I ask with a nervous laughter.

He moves right beside me, tracing the collar of my shirt with his fingers, "You just…don't look like you're from this side of town."

I raise my eyebrows, trying to hide my nervousness, "I just like to dress up a little, I actually live right around here."

He knocks his hood off with a jerk of his head, smirking at me, "Well, your attitude matches your clothes, pretty boy. It's little out of place, don't you think? You living around here?"

I get a good look at his face while I have the chance. He's younger than I would have expected, probably in his early twenties, with mysterious hazel eyes and a killer smile. A complete and utter knock-out to say the least. I shrug, relaxing a little bit, "Look who's talking, that face sure gives me a run for my money."

He raises an eyebrow, "What are you saying?"

"Just that you're actually quite the pretty boy, yourself."

He casually tosses his arm around me, beginning to walk in the direction I was originally headed in, "I'm definitely easy on the eyes, but that doesn't make me a pretty boy. I've easily got 50 pounds of muscle on you, and I don't prance around in sea green polos."

I look self consciously down at my outfit, "Well, I, I, um-"

"I appreciate the compliment, though. Let me walk you home, though, It'd be a waste of a pretty face if you ended up like the blokes down on 53rd, if you know what I mean."

I nod, growing comfortable under his muscular arm, "Haha, sure. What about you? Are you from around here?"

"You could say that," he mutters carelessly, "Not originally, but I've been here a good few years now. What brings you to live here, anyway?"

"Acting opportunities, and I go to school out here."

"Ahh," he exclaims with a smirk on his face, "You're one of those…"

I frown, "What do you mean by one of those?"

He shakes his head, smiling, "One of those sad kids that think that moving to LA will make all their pathetic dreams come true. You know they all end up dead or addicted to drugs, right? Hell, even the ones that get famous do…"

"Well, that's a hell of a thing to say, thanks so much for your support." I remark, offended.

He pulls me closer before I have time to pull away, "Oh, relax, I'm just being honest with you. Besides, I'm just trying to get you home in one piece, not fill you with false hope and tell you that you can achieve anything you put your mind to."

I roll my eyes, "Well, you asked."

"Yeah, I didn't say you shouldn't have mentioned it."

I do my best to shake it off, "Well, what are you doing out here?"

He grins, "I'm pretty much the real deal out here."

"What do you mean by that?"

He pets me roughly on the shoulder, "What do you think?"

"I think I have a good guess…" I murmur nervously, "Well, this is me." I add, stopping outside of my apartment complex.

He nods, "Alrighty, I'll see you later-" he pauses, "I didn't catch your name."

"Sebastian." I answer plainly, one hand on the door knob.

He smiles, "Sebastian. I'm Hunter."

I nod with a small grin.

"I'll see you around, pretty boy." he waves with mischievous leer.

"Bye, Hunter." I mutter, walking inside. I head up to my apartment with a frantic array of emotions pumping through my blood.

I unlock my front door, walking inside and sighing heavily. I don't know how to feel about this guy to be fully honest. Part of me wants to know him inside and out, but something else is warning to stay away.