Six hours later, Vjara clad in her normal purple and black gothic dress, disembarked from the plane into the airport. Straightening her black hair with streaks of violet, she found the nearest pay phone and called for a cab. She had sent an email earlier to her 'relation' telling her to pick her up at 1145 Syims Street, the only location she could find when she searched for 'Frescot, Wisconsin' on the computer. She told the cab driver that arrived a few minutes later the same address. She was willing to bet that her relation didn't know what that place was.

1145 Syims Street was the Frescot Wisconsin Cemetery.

The cab driver gave Vjara an odd look as he dropped off the amber-eyed girl's bags at the main gate, but Vjara paid him and he left soon after. Vjara pulled her three bags into the cemetery and found the first long even stone head marker she could and promptly laid herself down upon it.

'No use standing. I said 8 P.M. and it' only 7:15.' Vjara mused.

She put on her headphones and closed her eyes, angry. The stupid wench hadn't even told her just what this relation was, a cousin (most likely) or her father (as if!) or an uncle (if she was lucky). All she knew was that he was a he.

Some time later, Vjara awoke with a start. Someone, more like two or three someones, were calling out a name. A moment later, after removing her headphones, Vjara realized it was her name being called out, very badly mispronounced, but still her name. With a sigh, she rubbed her eyes.

"Not so loud, eh? Some people were resting after a horrid four hour plane ride and an equally as horrid hour taxi cab ride." she shouted.

There were footsteps and two men, both dressed in identical black uniforms soon stood besides Vjara, shining flashlights in her face. Vjara squinted.

"Would you please desist from burning out my eye sockets with those infernal flashlights!" Vjara rated, peeved again.

Two muttered apologizes later, Vjara allowed herself to be helped to her feet by the two men, the butler and the driver as they introduced themselves (well they had included their names along with their jobs, but Vjara found it pointless to remember them). The driver led Vjara towards the gate where a long black limo was parked while the butler took Vjara's bags. Vjara irked an eyebrow.

'Okay, so he's insanely rich. This is good.' Vjara told herself.

She stopped to straighten her dress before opening the backdoor. To Vjara's surprise, the limo was empty.

"Can't even come meet me, huh." she mused out loud, slightly disappointed at herself for getting her hopes up.

"Mr. Masters sends his apologies." the butler began and Vjara had to contain a snort of laughter.

'Masters? What a weird name. Oh...wait...I guess that makes me Vjara Masters.' Vjara sighed softly. 'Could be worse. I could have been Vjara Poppendoodle.'

The butler was still talking. "He shall be at home when we arrive to properly greet you, Miss Vjara."

'And there he goes mispronouncing my name again!' Vjara thought.

"Okay, first of all it's Vjara. That's Vuh-Jar-Ah. It's not hard to say and I tend to get very angry when people say it wrong." She told him.

The butler nodded.

Vjara continued. "Secondly, I'm starving. Find some restaurant or fast food joint that does take-out and stop on the way...I'm hungry enough to start trying to eat the leather seats if I don't get some real food soon. I assume since Mr. Masters sent a limo with a butler, he can afford some fast food for me?"

"Of course, Miss Vjara." the butler said, saying her name right this time.

Vjara slid herself into the backseat of the car and shut the door. The butler joined the driver in the front seat. They were almost about to leave when the driver's phone rang. Three minutes later, the butler rolled down the window to the back and explained that the other car, the one Mr. Master was in, had broken down and that they, meaning this car, would have to go pick him up. Seeing Vjara's angry look the butler quickly added that it was right near a fast food place. Vjara just nodded.