MrSchimpf-Thank you. I was trying to think of an original way where Paris and Tristan would make a good couple together because I have really always thought that they belonged together, not Tristan and Rory.
Paris finished putting on the loose pair of khakis and the black sweater she had taken out of her closet before she climbed into the shower. Her mom was out again on another date with a man that Paris knew would be like all the others and be gone in less than forty-eight hours. Paris grabbed the brown jacket off her bed and slipped it on before picking up the black leather duffel bag off of her bed and walking out her bedroom door. She hadn't been happy with herself for not telling Rory about her plans but she knew that if Rory knew, Loralie would know and Loralie wouldn't lie to another parent. Eliza Gellar couldn't care less if her daughter was gone but Paris needed money too. She stopped in the front hallway to read through the letter in her pocket that she planned to leave stuck in the door.
We have your daughter.
We want one million dollars and we will return her safely.
You will be called later with all the details.
Paris smiled at the sloppy hand-writing. She had gotten a drunk, college guy to write it for her at one of Louise's parties. She had given him one hundred dollars to do it. She had met the guy once before when he was sober so she knew he was an idiot and wouldn't be able to figure out what she was doing anyway.
After leaving the letter stuck in the door Paris made her way out to her red porsche. She had just opened the trunk of the car and tossed her duffel bag into the back when she saw the headlights at the end of the driveway. Paris panicked for the first time in her life that she could remember, afraid that the headlights she saw belonged to her mother's car, Paris quickly climbed into the trunk of her own car, shut the trunk. Paris suddenly realized that her mother would see the car and find the letter so Paris would have to leave without her car.
Tristan glanced out the passenger side window at the long driveway and the huge house.
"Don't forget to have that car with the other ones by tomorrow night. That's when their coming to pick the cars up," the dark-haired young man in the driver's seat reminded Tristan. Tristan, never even glancing at the other man as he opened the door and started walking up the driveway toward the house.Tristan smiled as he reached the driver's side door of the porsche. This was the last time he woud have to take orders from lazy, rich guys.
He took his time unlocking the car door and sliding into the driver's seat. His smile broadened as he ran his hands over the white, leather steering wheel. The whole interior of the car was beautiful. A few paper cups littered the floorboard but besides that the car was spotless.
He quickly reached down and hotwired the car, running his hands through his hair as he thought that this would probably be the last time he would ever drive a car like that.
"Alright, baby, let's go," Tristan whispered as he shifted the car into gear and pulled out of the driveway.
Alright, here is chapter 2. Please review even if you don't like the story and I could really use a beta reader so if anyone is interested please let me know :)