A/N: This is a side story to my main fic, Caught Clueless. There are some spoilers for the main story up to chapter 20, so if you haven't read it and you plan to… maybe you should wait. Or read it anyway and enjoy the angst and friendship? I don't know, it's up to you. Without further ado… please enjoy.

Everyone you will ever meet knows something you don't.

OoOoOoOo

It was raining, and as I walked down 3rd Street, the bottoms of my pants soaked up each failed attempt to dodge a puddle. This was my fault—I was distracted. I spent too long at the library and left long after the sun dipped below the horizon.

The thought that I would die an early death was not new. Always, in the back of my mind, I suspected I wouldn't live past fifty. My mother passed away from an illness obscure in the medical books. Who could know with affirmation it wasn't genetic? As a child, I wasn't well; I always seemed to have a cold or something similar. But the thought that I would die without doing anything important frightened me. It left me with a discontented feeling nearly akin to panic.

Of course, these speculations were possibly baseless from a medical standpoint. There was no evidence of anything wrong. I was deemed healthy at age nine, any nagging problems having been cleared up by natural means, but recently I'd been plagued with headaches. A visit to the hospital revealed that l suffered from migraines. It was nothing to be overly concerned about. Still, it triggered these disheartening thoughts.

Nothing I'd done was worth noting in history. My existence was average and aimless and insignificant. It would've been fine if I was nobody. But I was Gill Hamilton. I was the future mayor of Castanet Island. Such a beautiful land deserved to have an accomplished leader.

The dreary atmosphere I found myself in was like a physical projection of my thoughts. The only distraction from my distraction was the other person on the sidewalk: a man who appeared sorely out of place. Only his back was visible, but that was enough to tell his suit was expensive and shouldn't have been in the rain. Every minute or so he would pause. It was impossible to tell what he was doing, but the strange, methodical action bothered me.

It was useless to concern myself with it, though, so I shook my head and continued as though I wasn't even slightly perturbed. Soon I found I was more preoccupied with the wetness of my shirt than anything else. It clung to my body uncomfortably, so uncomfortably that I wanted nothing more than to get home and pull it off, then maybe take a warm bath afterward.

Less than a second after I noticed I was alone again, I stumbled and dropped the books I had so carefully managed to keep dry all this time.

"Whoa." A laughing voice from under me pulled me out of my confusion. "Hey, where'd you learn to walk?"

I tried to make out a face in the darkness. "Excuse me," I muttered, bending down to pick up my books when I couldn't see anything. "It's dangerous to block the sidewalk like that."

"You don't recognize me?"

"No. Should I?"

He stood up. "I haven't changed that much. Maybe it's the clothes. I clean up pretty nice, huh?"

Something about the way he said that sounded familiar. I blinked at him. This guy looked like Chase. No, it was Chase. His hair was completely different. I could tell it had been combed back, but now in the rain it looked like a careless attempt at class. And the suit. Where had he been able to afford such an expensive suit?

"Chase? What are you doing?" I asked.

"Just now? I dropped something." He gave me a weird smile, a sort of half-smirk. "If you mean what I'm doing here, I was working at that fancy restaurant on Fifth."

"Was?" Something else about him looked different, and it wasn't the hair or the clothes. It was the expression on his face and the way he was standing. He didn't flinch in the downpour of rain, even when a drop fell right under his eye.

"Yeah," he said.

Neither of us spoke. He pushed the hair out of his face and wiped his hand across his forehead. At first I thought it was rain, but the streak across his palm was colored dark. He dried it hastily on his pants. That suit obviously didn't mean anything to him.

"Are you bleeding?" I asked, unable to hide the surprise in my voice.

"Kind of."

"What happened to you?"

He laughed, but the sound was cheerless. "Ah, it's nothing. I got in a fight. I can't believe it's still raining. You know it's been raining all day? And I got fired... because of the fight. It was raining even then."

It took me a minute to understand him. For one, I couldn't believe he was here, in the city, and he actually fought with someone at an elegant restaurant. And the second issue was that, suddenly, he was mumbling; his speech was slow and indistinct. I had to ask him to repeat what he said to make sure I heard him correctly.

"A fight. He punched me, so I punched him back." Chase turned around. "Look, it's raining, but it's not even cold. I feel warm, actually. I could stay out here forever, which is good because I don't have my key."

"Are you drunk?"

He stopped, turning back around to face me. "No. I just spent all my money on a chocolate bar. I don't have money to get drunk. My stuff's at the restaurant."

"A chocolate bar?" I asked. "You're bleeding, you just got fired, you're walking out in the rain, and you suddenly crave a chocolate bar?"

"Yeah. Suddenly I wanted something to get the taste of blood out of my mouth."

"How long have you been walking around?"

"I don't know," he said. "Do you even care? Why are you asking?"

"You're acting immature, Chase. Getting drunk is ridiculous. If you stay out here any longer, you'll catch pneumonia."

"Good. Maybe I'll drop dead."

That made me angry. He was being stupid, and I couldn't stand it anymore. I started walking past him. As I passed, I shook my head and said, "Honestly, I thought you were more intelligent than this."

For a second it looked like he was going to hit me. I paused, seeing if he would actually do such a thing. But he didn't, and he spun around, saying something about Pepsi. I'd heard of it, but I wasn't sure what it was. Then he was looking at me again.

He deliberately ran his hands through his hair and pulled at it, saying, "I hate the city. I want to burn it down. I can't believe I came back here." Every word was so clearly enunciated I almost wondered how I could've thought he was drunk. Although when he continued, I was once again sure that he was intoxicated. He was yelling about his life, how horrible it was, how he hated the weather, how some guy named Jason should go to hell. I waited for him to quit ranting. He stopped after a minute, but only because he was losing his voice. Maybe he'd been outside longer than he said he was.

After he closed his mouth, he stared at me, biting his lip. I almost said something. He left before I could think of anything.

What was the matter with him?

The more I considered it, the more curious I became. He didn't smell of alcohol, and I had never seen him drunk before on the island. That's not to say it was impossible. He was certainly acting drunk. Defying every voice in my head that told me to stay out of it, I followed him.

If he did anything stupid, I would feel responsible.

He walked for a long time. It was obvious he had no idea where he was going. Every few minutes he would pause and glance up, wiping the blood and rain from his forehead. Eventually he chose a building and sat down next to it. He didn't even choose one with an overhang. He just sat down in the rain.

"Chase," I said, exasperated, as I walked to him. "Honestly, what are you doing? You're going to get sick."

He didn't look surprised to see me. He looked like he didn't care.

"As the future mayor, I can't condone this self-destructive behavior. We may be in the city, but you're still a resident of Castanet. Do you have any money? Can't you get a motel room? Don't you have a friend to stay with tonight or something?"

He stood up, shaking his head.

"What happened?"

"You wouldn't get it. You're acting like you know me, but you don't. I don't need your concern. I don't want anything from you."

I was about to tell him it didn't matter who he was, he was being an idiot, but something made me hesitate. I was sure I had used those exact words before, and when I did, I'd been lying. Maybe I was going about this the wrong way.

"After all these years, I really don't know anything about you," I said, "but as your friend, I do know the couch in my living room is probably more suitable for wallowing in self-pity than the dirty sidewalk."

"Friend, huh?" Chase leaned against the wall. "Did you not hear what I just said? Take your offer and shove it."

"My apartment isn't too far from here." I was annoyed, so I fumbled when I went to search for the receipt to my library books. After I found it, I tore off the bottom and jotted my address down. "Here, for when you decide to grow up."

"Generous, aren't you?" He snatched the paper from me, which I assumed he would throw away once I turned around. "I don't know what you think you're doing. You're going to look back on this and realize you spent the whole night out in the rain for nothing."

There was no way I was getting through to him. It was foolish of me to even try. So I walked away and went to minding my own business once again.

A/N: Here is chapter one of the promised side story to Caught Clueless. This tells the story of the event Chase told Angela about when they went to the French restaurant in chapter 18. There are going to be a few chapters because I ended up writing 12,000 words. Genres angst and friendship. I'm really into friendship. I don't even ship people ever. Even AngelaxChase/Gill/Luke I like better as a strictly BFF relationship… but that's not to say anything about the outcome of CC, so don't worry. Angela will find love. But yeah, I just really like the Chase ~ Gill dynamic and how they deny friendship but deep down they know they're home bros ;w; (Basically, this story isn't intended to be viewed as a romance.)

Anyway, thank you so much Alisyndrome for the motivation and IslandGirl as always!

Reviews are appreciated! Thank you so much! Also the quote at the beginning is from Bill Nye (The Science Guy). I felt like putting that in right after the quote at the beginning would throw off the mood for the whole thing.

Violet