A/N: Daria and all associated characters are owned by MTV. This is for entertainment purposes only and no money or other goods have changed hands.

NOBODY'S HOME
By Ognawk

Part 1

It was a dark night in Lawndale as Max parked The Tank outside Casa Lane. Mystik Spiral had just completed a month long tour of some Mid-Atlantic clubs outside of Lawndale and, having dropped Nick and Jesse off, Trent was the last one. He quickly looked around before nudging Trent, who was asleep in the passenger seat next to him.

"Trent! Hey, Trent! Wake up, man!"

"No, Monique, the purple one looks better," he mumbled quietly, clearly still dreaming about something.

"C'mon Trent, I need to get going," Max said, elbowing his band mate.

"Huh?" Trent said, finally opening his eyes, "Hey, Max, what's going on?"

"We're at your place, man. We need to get your stuff out of here so I can head home."

"Sure," Trent said.

He got out of the Tank and opened the sliding door in the side of the vehicle. Max followed and helped Trent get his guitar, amp and suitcases out of the back of the Tank, laying everything on the sidewalk.

"Trent, dude, we totally rocked it out there! The Spiral is on the rise, man!" Max said.

"Um, yeah man, great. Hey, could you help me..."

"Gotta go, man. See you later," Max said, before quickly getting back into the Tank and driving away.

"Yeah, later," Trent said as he watched Max leave.

With a yawn, Trent picked up his suitcases and carried them towards the front door of the house. He then went back for the guitar and amp. He checked the mailbox and noticed that it was stuffed full with what looked like at least a week's worth of mail.

Huh. Guess Janey forgot to empty it, he thought as he quickly took the guitar and amp to the door before returning for the mail. He placed the stack on top of one of the suitcases and looked at the house, noticing that none of the lights were on. That's weird, he thought, maybe she's at Daria's.

Trent reached into his pocket and fished out his house keys. As he went to put them in the lock, he noticed a note taped to the front door. He pulled it off and read it.

Trent,

Sorry I can't be here to greet you after your whirlwind tour, but it's impossible. I've decided that I had to leave. Please, please don't go digging around trying to find out where I am. I don't want anybody to know. Including you.

Don't worry about me. Just know that I'm perfectly safe. We'll see each other again someday, I promise. I love you.

-Jane

Concerned over what could have caused his sister to leave home, Trent folded the note up and put it in his pocket before quickly opening the door. After getting his things into the house and closing the door behind him, he looked into the living room and noticed it in an even bigger mess than he remembered leaving it in a month ago. He then went into the kitchen and saw various crumpled up pieces of paper scattered around the table and the floor. He picked up one of the pieces and opened it up to see his sister's handwriting again.

These last few months have been weird for me. I was so furious with Daria for kissing Tom, after insisting she had no interest in him. I then told her I was OK with her dating Tom. I don't know why I told her that. I don't know who I was kidding. The weird thing is, she actually believed me. She's really smart, but I didn't think she could be so naive.

I ended up at the Ashfield art colony for a couple of months. I really didn't get along with anyone over there. I think I really got a feeling for how the art world really works. There was this one girl, Alison, who seemed to be a friend to me. She took me out to dinner after losing a bet with me. But in her cabin afterwards, she came on to me. I wasn't interested, and she claimed that she 'never hits on straight chicks'.

But lately, I've been wondering whether she might have been right. I've been confused about things ever since. I need to talk to someone about it. I can't talk to Daria, though. Try as I might, I'm still not completely over the Tom thing. Not yet, anyway. But who do I talk to? Trent's great, but I don't think he can help me with this problem.

Guess little Janey has to figure things out on her own again.

Trent read the note a couple of times before staring off into the distance.

I don't know what's happening, but I hope you are safe, Janey.

To Be Continued...