*Dom's POV*

Smart girl, she'd thought of everything, hadn't she? I watched her get her things, I figured that I was holding back from asking -no, begging- her to stay a little while longer. I hadn't grown attached or anything, I was just lonely. The last actual conversation I had was with the lunch lady, when she'd asked me if I wanted green peas (no, I didn't, thank you). It got really cold in here, no one to talk to, no friends to be found. With a final farewell, she walked out, probably to her friends who were waiting for her. The huge, heavy metal door swung shut with a thud, and it reminded me that when I went to sleep tonight, I'd be going to a small cot, where my feet hang out because I'm too tall, and that when I woke up, I'd wake up to the horror that I was stuck in this large, cold building, for G-d knows how much longer.

"Toretto, get your sorry ass back into your cell" the warden called. Speaking of my cell...I walked into the tiny room that had been my home for two years. I had pictures of my family all over the wall- Letty, Leon, Mia, Vince, Jess- Ripper! What the fuck was he doing in here? Ripper was brought into Lompoc for murder and armed robbery. He was just another thug off the street. The only thing that set him aside was that he'd smuggled in thousands of dollars upon his arrival, and with the money, he paid the wardens off and was allowed to do and take whatever he wanted. That, and he got off on pictures of my sister. There he sat, drooling over my Mia. It took all of me to keep from beating the shit out of him.

"What the fuck are you doing in here, I told you to stay away from me, faggot." I told him, still attempting to keep myself in check.

He turned lazily, as if I wasn't there to knock his head off. "Lookin at your sister, bro. She's fine, you know." Yeah, I knew.  I knew by the way all of those little guys had stared at her when she was in high school. Even Vince was caught by her beauty. But I wasn't letting this asshole stare.

"I'm not your bro, and maybe I should give you some eye makeup. Ya know, make sure you quit lookin' at my baby sister?" Finally, he turned his attention to me. He stood up, fists clenched.

"I don't think that'll happen, Toretto," he said, while swinging at me with his right fist. I ducked and moved aside -months of getting beaten up by the other men here had taught me how to move fast to defend myself- and then stepped in to punch him in the stomach. Ripper gasped in pain; I think I knocked the air out of him. Then he regained himself and tried to hit me again. He didn't miss this time. My head exploded in flashy lights, and I stumbled back, but only for a second. I jumped up, he wasn't going to get rid of me that easy, and slammed him into the wall. At the same time, I felt something hit my back, and then I fell to my knees in agony. Damn wardens. I lay on the floor, a pool of blood and shame. I could feel the blood pouring out of my mouth and onto my shirt and the floor. I'd just fall asleep here, if I moved, they'd hit me again. As I lay there, I thought of my family sitting down to dinner outside, talking and laughing. Then I thought of Mel. She's accepted me with a smile that I'd rarely gotten in the past. Right before I fell asleep, however, I felt another crack on my back. I groaned. This was one of the worst days of my life. How could this happen? Minutes ago, I was having an intelligent discussion with a college student, and now I was being beaten for something that wasn't even my fault. I moaned again on the cold floor and felt my consciousness slip away.

*Mel's POV*

Wow. Dominic was so different from what I had expected. Charming, polite, and friendly, he wasn't your average convict. It was so sad though. I'd never see him again, although I'd like to. I'd never find out what happened to him. I had done it again. I put myself into a position where I'm left upset and emotionally drained. I sat down in my car and just let everything sink in. Poor Dominic, it seemed as if he had so much potential, and he was stuck in that prison with no one to care about him. He was probably laying down in his bed now, ready for sleep to come.

I drove out, and began the hour-long trip back home. I stopped at the light and put in my Linkin Park CD. Run Away screamed out of the speakers as I raced home. That's what I had done. Sort of. I'd run away from my family in Holland, Pennsylvania. There were two reasons as to why I'd done it. First of all, I was the baby of the family and I was constantly smothered by all of the attention. I was smart, not to brag, but I was on a borderline genius level, with a knack for philosophy and an understanding of a deeper meaning. I also happened to be the black sheep. My friends were punks, Goths, or just general rockers. I dressed in punk-ish clothes- wristbands, those rubber bracelets, everything that was a preppy/popular girl's kryptonite. If you'd only seen our family pictures.

The second reason was closer to the heart and further from the free spirit idea of the first reason. I'd been head over heels in love with one of my cousin's very hot guy friends. Michael was incredible. He was smart (not my kind of smart, but smart nevertheless), and simply gorgeous. We were completely different, but we had chemistry. After we'd been together for two years, he said it was time to get serious. I was so naïve; I thought he was the one. I went along with him.

*flashback*

The next day was the day that I would get my response from the University of California. As I walked down the stairs of my parents' large, expensive house to where Mike was playing cards with some of his friends, I overheard him talking.

"So? Did you do it?" That was Sergei, obviously asking about last night's events.

" 'Course I did." Mike.

"And?"

" Eh, Natasha was better."

"Dude, the chick from the bar last week?" What chick?! I was getting mad, and I felt tears springing.

"Yeah, what other Natasha?" I'd had enough. I'd been planning on turning down UC to stay here with Mike, but there was no point now, was there? I stormed in and slammed the letter on the green felt of the poker table, sending chips sprawling.

"Hey spaz, what's wrong with you?" My loving Michael.

"I found out my jackass of a boyfriend is cheating on me!" I was screeching, I could tell when Mike winced. "Do you know what this is?"

"Um, no…"

"My acceptance letter to the University of California!!"

"Did you get in?" Mike was worried about this in spite of the shit he'd gotten himself into.

"What do you think, smarts? My IQ's fucking higher than yours! You get into Princeton, and you think I can't get into a state school? Shto stuboya tokoya?" (Russian translation: What's wrong with you?)

"Oh. Are you going?"

"I wasn't. Now I am. Thanks for helping me pick, Mikey. I'm not even staying on this side of the country if you're here, and when my family asks why I'm leaving, you can tell them why I can't stand to be here anymore!"

*End of Flashback*

Later, he told me he'd never needed me. I was too drab, too fat (lost five pounds since then), and that I was too plain weird with my rock music. I drove on. By now, Run Away was over, and Place For My Head was starting, and my car was making that stupid clicking noise again. I had gone over this car when I had gotten it, fixing things here and there. I was so glad that I'd left my Lexus back in Pennsylvania, all of the street racers that I hung out with thought I was just a poser daddy's-girl with a fancy car. I had no idea what the clicking noise was, and I decided that there was nothing left to do but leave it in a garage.

I drove into a garage called DT, where I saw a man with a beard that looked about three days old. I parked and stepped out, knowing that I'd sound like a total ditz when I told him what the problem was with my car. Whatever, what were my chances of seeing him again. He was already walking over as I began to walk to the register.

"Hey, I'm Vince, what's your name, sweetheart?" I guess those five lost pounds helped me. But I'm still hot enough to just evoke a line from a complete stranger. I'm pretty good-looking, but I'm no model.

"I'm looking for service, not a date. Can you help me?" The smile slipped off of his face and he quickly became businesslike.

"Aiight, what's wrong with your car? What is it, RX-7? Nice."

"Honestly, I have no idea what's wrong with it. After I brake, it starts to make a clicking noise. And thanks; I built most of it up myself. Used to be a piece of shit," I said proudly.

"Okay, let me take a look at it," he dissented, walking over and popping the hood to be welcomed by my NOS injected system [A/N: I have no idea what I'm talking about when I mention cars, so if I sound like in idiot, humor me.].

"Jesus! This is sweet! You did this by yourself? I had a friend who was fixing an RX-7 a couple of years back, you've got practically the same skills as him!"

"Really? Thanks. Who's your friend?"

"You don't know him? He owns this garage, and the little market down the street. He's also the king of the racing world…just, um, temporarily removed."

"Wow, there are some accomplishments. What's his name?"

"Dominic Toretto."

~~ Muahaha! Aren't I evil? Everything's blending together, and remember, Dom was in for two years in the movie, he's already spent his two years in my story…I think it's time to let him go…muahahaha. That'll happen later, but what does Melanie say when the man she's just visited really is the accomplished person she thought he could be? What's her reaction? ~~