A/N: I do not own the Avengers! I got the idea for this story from a game I used to play when I was younger. It was setbin the Marvel universe and it can get pretty confising sometimes. You've been warned! XD

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Why does this crap always happen to me? I've been asking this question for the past twelve years. I mean, I am part of a team of superheroes called The Avengers. And I have some serious relationship issues. OH!!! I DIDN'T SEE YOU THERE. I'm SO sorry. You must be really confused. Okokokok!

My name is Jessica Rogers. I grew up in the big city of Brooklyn. But I hate people. I don't know why, but when my parents died, my sister and I decided to take over the family business. Which happened to be a huge cooperation dedicated to...

You guessed it!(I hope)

Staples.

No no no. Not the store.

We make staples.

I HATE IT.

Anyways, back when this all happened, I was known as Jessica Williams. And my sister, Rachel Williams, thought that she could RUN. MY. LIFE.

So, when I was twenty three, I met the (then) love of my life, Clint Barton. (I know, I know! We've already covered that I have some relationship issues!!)

One day, we were out and I saw a really awesome sale in the window of a salon. Free color with every cut! It's a great deal! So, I set off on a mission. I was going to get my hair done.

"Jess, are you sure that this is the best idea? Your sister hates me enough already. I don't think we need another reason for her to." He was such a wuss.

"Clint. I'm twenty three. I can handle myself. It's about time Rachel realises that." I explained, signing in at the desk. We sat down and looked through a magazine.

"I just don't think that-" He was cut off by the stylist calling my name. "Go get some ice cream Clint." I said as I kissed him on the cheek, he sighed and left.

After I got may hair done, we went window shopping for a few hours. Maybe buying a teeny bit along the way home...hehehe.

We arrived home. "Okay. I'm ready!" I jogged in place and flexed my muscles. "Don't you think you're being a bit dramatic?" Clint asked, smirking.

"Nope." I said, as I walked inside. "She's going to kill me!"

I unlocked the door and walked in. "Rach! I'm home!" I called, putting my hair up. Clint kissed my cheek. "I've got work stuff. See you later."

Rachel walled in and her eyes went wide.

"WHAT did you do to your hair??" She nearly shrieked, I put it into a high ponytail and smirked.

"I don't know what you-" I was cut off by her banshee yell.

"IT'S BLUE!"