A/N: This story takes place before Phobos's reign ends, I lost all track of the show after the witch showed up, and I plan to catch up one day. If I get anything wrong, email me and I will correct it.
Also, this is my first of two fanfics I'm working on, so please no flaming in your reviews.
Disclaimer: The flaming purple bunnies will vouch for me when I say "I don't own W.I.T.C.H. or any of its characters."
It was a calm, boring day and night for Hay Lin. No Guardian missions, the restaurant had no business for today (Blunk stunk everyone out yesterday, it's the second time he's hung out in their dumpster.), and it was Saturday. Hay Lin sat on her bed, bored as hell. Her grandma was getting things ready for business tomorrow, hoping everyone would come back to eat. These preparations including shooing Blunk out from behind the restaurant again. Caleb was doing that part.
Will was in her apartment, looking at the clock while holding a stuffed frog. The clock read 9:30. Her mom was going to make her go to bed soon, knowing her. There was nothing on T.V, and Matt was grounded, so he couldn't call or come over.
Cornelia was doing her hair, like she is every night. She was hoping she would finally be able to ask Caleb out on a date tomorrow. After putting down her comb, the bored Cornelia decided to get an early sleep, or at least get comfortable in her bed.
Irma at least had company, but she was busy throwing stuff at Martin from the window. Martin was the company. She just wished he would shut up and get on with his damned life. Right now, she was holding a purple gel pen. It was out of ink, and she didn't really like purple that much.
Taranee was practicing her limited power of fire outside Guardian form. Her candles were almost burnt out with the constant relighting of the candles, and she was getting bored of it.
That's when it happened. The sudden burst of heat and energy at once. They didn't know why, everyone knew it wasn't just a bit of hot air. Something was coming. Taranee believed she knew why there was a heat burst with it. There was another pyrokinetic in town.
Just entering the town, a 15 year old boy sat in the front seat of his grandma's car. The 45 year old woman frowned at the steering wheel. She saw the look on her grandson's face. "Joe, please. It's a new town, things will be different." She continued driving, depressed that her grandson had not said a word since they left. The boy, whose bluish grey eyes were staring at the road from the side window, shook his head, and his neck length dirty blonde hair with it. Looking at his almost pale reflection in the side mirror, Joe continued sulking. Yeah, different people are going to get hurt.