Disclaimer: If I owned anything that had to do with this story, I wouldn't be writing this.

Yes, it's true, Do I Have Your Heart? has been deleted, but I am replacing that drab story with a new one. It is still modern day, and hopefully a whole lot better. This chapter is short, but they will become longer as time goes on. Please, please, enjoy and REVIEW!

As she stared down at her reflection in a bowl of warm water, Scarlett O'Hara wondered what the hell she was going to do with her life. Her slitted eyes blankly gazed back up at her, offering no mediation to the problem.

"Lady, left han'!" The Vietnamese women repeated, impatiently holding her nail file ready. It was the second time she had to repeat herself to this girl.

"What? Oh, sure," Scarlett splashed her hand down into the water, watching her pale facial features dissolve into a murky haze. An ugly and pruned hand took hers, scrubbing it to an unnatural red.

"Ouch!" She exclaimed, jerking her hand from the bowl. Droplets of scalding water splashed over the opened nail polish and onto the floor, leaving a trail of wet splotches on the tile.

"Lady! Be ceerful!" Her botched English was hardly lower than a shriek.

"Stop trying to rub my hands off, than!" Scarlett frowned, and watched as the small women bent over with a towel, desperately pushing it back and forth to soak up the water.

"Scarlett, is everything okay?" Melanie questioned quietly, sedately sitting at her own station with her fingers draped into a bowl equal to Scarlett's.

"Yes," Came the answer through gritted teeth. Nothing was going as it was supposed to! This 'accident' only proved it. Sitting at a Nail Salon with Melanie Hamilton was not everybody's idea of fun, especially to Scarlett. The worst part, was that the man she was utterly, and hopelessly in love with had asked her do it. At the exact moment that Ashley had uttered the words: Could you show Melanie around Atlanta for me, Scarlett? It would mean so much, since she will be moving up here in October and everything. Her heart had ceased its beating. The entire world came crumbling in on her, sucking the air from her lungs. Of course Ashley had not seen her face. They had been speaking over the phone, but if only he could know! At first only sorrow and misunderstanding had vibrated her, but with a day to absorb the storm, anger followed. Not just normal chick anger, pissed-the-hell off anger. Ashley had kissed her-KISSED her! And it had been the most devastatingly wonderful moment in all of Scarlett's life. It did not matter that he had already drunken two beers, or that it was at one thirty in the morning. None of that mattered. He had taken her in his arms, pressed his lips against hers, and kissed her. Now, how in all of the world was she sitting in Atlanta, Georgia, opposite Melanie Hamilton?

"I think I'm going to get white," Melanie said, acting as if she had put some major thought in that scholarly decision.

"Shocking," Scarlett replied sarcastically, turning back to her own color choices. The Vietnamese women had reassembled everything carefully, eying Scarlett warily. "Hot pink," She demanded, dangling the bottle of paint in front of her beady eyes.

"I sees it," The women yanked the bottle from Scarlett and mumbled something to herself in a homeland language. Scarlett nodded and pressed all ten fingers flat, thinking of what to do with her new, homely pal. She wondered what Ashley's interest in her was anyway. It wasn't as if the bitch was special. Her lashes were too short and soft, face ghastly white without a touch of make-up, and hair laying in dark clumps at her shoulders. Even her body was disgusting. Melanie had to be a size zero in everything. Legs, hips, chest, waist, not a curve to look at! No beauty to her! Scarlett was proud of her curvaceous legs and hips, pouting red mouth, and developed breasts. Men don't want a stick, and she knew that. Ashley, you don't want to be fucking a twig do you? She asked herself. A form of irony butted in, as her new cell phone bussed loudly in her pocket.

"You ruin your nails," The women warned, clicking her tongue.

"Thanks for the concern," Quickly the phone was pulled from the cave of her pocket, a tube of red lip gloss and piece of pink bubble gum emerging along with it. Just as she had been warned, globs of bright pink smeared over her brand new jeans. Scarlett rolled her eyes as the women smiled triumphantly, knowing she could buy a new pair anytime she wanted.

How's it going? The message was from Ashley. She stared at the purple screen for a moment, unsure of how to respond. She was still furious with him.

I'll give her back to you as soon as this is over. She typed, snapping the wireless closed and setting it aside. The sound cracked like a whip against the soft humming of nail filing. The other women receiving their manicures turned to stare. Another letter from Ashley made her cell dance and jitter across the metal table loudly, but Scarlett could ignore him.

"Was that Brent?" Melanie asked sweetly, wondering what was vexing Scarlett. She had not bothered to hide it from her impressionable face.

"Mhm," She no longer had the energy to feign kindness. This girl was intolerable. The rest of the appointment went in total silence between the two of them. Scarlett was plotting. The next time she saw Ashley, she had to find out what his intentions with Melanie were. Maybe she could be like Sherlock Holmes-if only Sherlock Holmes wore mini skirts and hot pink nail polish...

Walking from the Salon, Scarlett impatiently blew onto her nails, annoyed that the paint wasn't sealing over quite yet. Melanie who was taking along behind her was babbling on about something unimportant, and Scarlett only made polite responses when it was necessary. Their footsteps sounded so different on the cement. Scarlett's was an obnoxious clomping of heel hitting cement, Melanie's sneakers squishing in a puddle. At her car, she paused to look at the mousy girl who was about to step inside of it. Her perfect silver convertible, about to be invaded by a mouse. How lovely.

An hour later, the pair was driving down the road at Scarlett's favorite speed-illegal. Melanie was clutching her seatbelt so tightly her knuckles were turning white. She tried to make conversation.

"This car is really nice,"

"Yep, good ole' Dad bought it for me last fall," Scarlett clicked on her turning signal and veered to the left onto a country road. Her fingers absently were roaming on the dashboard but in their explorations found a stick of bright blue bubble gum. Scarlett pushed it in between her teeth.

"I've never met your parents,"

"Yep," God, she was annoying. It was quite obvious they had never met, and never would be meeting one another. Melanie wised up and settled into politely looking out the window, laying both hands now in her lap. Scarlett listened to her jaw sticking and separating with the gum, and decided to turn on the radio to ease the sound.

Womanizer, you're a womanizer baby... Click.

Don't stop, believing! Hold on to that feeling... Click.

You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you! Don't you, don't you? The radio stayed on this channel. The singing voice was throaty and wailed into the silence of the car. It seemed very out of proportion. Scarlett could ignore this, all of this. Normally some form of manners might have stepped in front of her wall of anger, but not when love was a component. Melanie was competition for Ashley. All of the polite teachings her mother had preached and preached were out the door. Cutting into the music was the sound of Melanie's modest cellphone, ringing quietly. Her eyes skimmed over the screen.

"Scarlett, we're supposed to meet Ashley at Sherman's Bar and Saloon. Do you know where that is?" Scarlett smiled genuinely and turned to look at Melanie. Sherman's was her favorite spot in all of Georgia. It's too bad Ashley would be mercilessly questioned in there.

AN: Hehe, I added on a bit and changed some words. I was yelled at for swearing too much.