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Link's POV:

"We're very pleased to have you staying with us," Mrs Harkinian says, stepping into her house and holding the front door open for us. "In fact we've got three children of our own, and they're a similar age to you!" She turns to me, a bright smile on her face. "How old are you?" She asks.

I smirk a little at her patronising tone and dad makes his way in, carefully closing the front door. He rests one hand on my back just between my shoulder blades.

"He's fifteen." Dad says, as I wriggle as squirm until he moves his hand away.

"That's brilliant!" She says, still eagerly smiling, "I've got twins your age! Sheik and Zelda, Sheik's a bit cheeky but he'll make sure you're ok, and Zelda is ever so friendly!

"Stuck up countryside kids…" I mutter under my breath, kicking the toe of my shoes onto the kitchen floor, scuffing the tiles with a little rubber mark.

"I take it you're going to the school in the GerudoValley?" She asks me, either not having heard, or choosing to ignore, my last remark.

Hasn't she got the message yet? I don't want to talk to her! I don't want to make awkward polite chit chat. Why can't she just leave me alone? I swear to Hylia that no one in the backwards place seems to be able to take a hint.

"Yes, he is!" Mum cuts in, putting an end to the lingering silence.

Mrs Harkinian smiles, turning to her kitchen side. "Would anyone like a drink?"

I sigh, leaning back against the wall with crossed arms as my parents begin conversing with her. She's so freaking polite, it's honestly a little irritating. In the city everyone keeps themselves to themselves and no one asks incessant nagging questions. Yet in the countryside, everything is different. I've only been in this house for less than five minutes and I already know that I'm going to hate it here, period.

I let out another deep sigh as I stare around the room. It's a comfortable looking traditional cottage kitchen. Wooden counters line the walls and there's a large dining table in the centre of the room, set out with a cupcake print table cloth and a vase of flowers. A large lemon drizzle cake sits on the side, a couple of slices already taken from it, and the fridge is cluttered with alphabet magnets and family snap shots. So bloody charming.

Suddenly, the stable-style door is thrown open and a little girl runs in. She's all dressed in white three quarter length trousers and a purple vest top with a blue cardigan. Her hair is tied up in a neat little bun, and she looks about Aryll's age. She runs right over to Mrs Harkinian, I'm presuming she's her daughter… and she wraps her arms around her mum legs as she gives her a big gap-toothed smile, before turning to us.

"New people!" She squeals, jumping up and down and clapping her olive toned hands. She rushes straight past me, her blonde bun bobbing behind her head as she grabs my little sister's hand.

"Hi!" She exclaims, "My name's Tetra!"

"I'm Aryll!" My little sister replies, beaming.

"Let me show you the house!" Tetra says, pulling Aryll towards the door, not that Aryll's resisting. The two run off together, their tiny feet pattering on the floor of the house as mum smiles fondly.

"Looks like they've made friends already!" She says, as Mrs Harkinian hands her herbal tea, and my dad a cup of coffee.

I scoff as I rest one foot up against the wall that I lean on while my parents continue talking. I half listen to their conversation, catching words like 'school', 'farm' and 'baby' though I can't be bothered to listen to the entire conversation. Right now, I honestly wish I was anywhere but here. I wish I was back in my bedroom of that tiny apartment, sketching whilst playing baby shambles music at full volume on my iPod. I wish I could be back on those grey city streets, anonymous, or that I could hide from the too-cheerful country folk, from my parents and my little sister. I wish I could just escape, to run away from this drab little house, but there's no chance of that happening.

The wooden stable door is thrown open again, and two people wander into the room. The first is a tall blond Sheikah boy, dressed in jeans, tatty trainers, and a navy blue t-shirt with an orange mark of the Sheikah on it. He has long blond hair that falls lazily in front of his eyes, and he studies me carefully with his blood red eyes, a crooked grin twitching at the corner of his mouth. I carefully study him too, taking in his toned arms. He clearly he works out a lot, though the dusty stain on his t-shirt tells me that he's also a little lazy. Judging by his muscular fatigue, and his posture, I'd guess he was a football player. I'm willing to bet that he's one of those popular jock boys, who all the girls at school swoon over, the sort of guy that when he walks down the halls, people step out of his path.

A girl follows in behind him. She walks much more daintily than he does, with a light spring in her step. Long blonde hair dances around her shoulders as she comes to a stop by the Sheikah boy, two plaits falling forwards around her jaw. She looks similar to him, the same colour hair, the same skin tone, and they're both about my age, though she looks more Hylian than he does. She's slender, elegant, and she wears a long dusty pink dress with a white cardigan. Her indigo eyes are sparkling as I glance her over, taking in the light amount of make up on her face, her silver bracelets and Goddess crest necklace. Her warm smile tells me that she's friendly, but I can see right through it. She's one of those pretty little sweethearts who can get anything she wants just a cute dainty smile. She probably has the blond Sheikah wrapped around her little finger, ready to do anything for her at just a moment's notice. Pretty girls like her get life handed to them on a silver plate, whereas the rest of us aren't so lucky.

"Nice to meet you!" The boys says, his country accent thick on his tongue as he gives me a smile. "I'm Sheik, this is Zelda, and you are…?" He tilts his head to the side, hoping for an answer.

I don't satisfy him with a response; just simply grab my bags and a set of room keys from dad and make for the door into the rest of the house.

"I'm going to put my stuff in my room." I state, marching away from my family and the precious little blond twins, leaving just silence behind me.

As soon as I step away from the door, I find myself in a large room that appears to be some sort of dining area. Tables of varying sizes are laid out, with different colour table cloths, though no crockery or cutlery is present. I sigh, marching right on through to the next room. I'm immediately greeted with a long corridor, a variety of different doors leading off it. The corridor is currently empty, leaving me with peace and quiet to think this through. I quickly glance at the tag on the keys, it reads '7'. I nod to myself, wandering down the hall. My feet make a soft shuffling noise as I pad along the carpet, but as I come to the end of the corridor, the door I face is labeled 'Room 6'.

I sigh again, turning back around and studying the room once more. But all I can see is white wash walls and pale wooden doors, until my eyes finally fall on the solution. Tucked away in a tiny corner of the room, hidden out of sight, is a small staircase. It's curled into a spiral shape and disappears up out of sight. I frown, slowly advancing towards the staircase. My hands touch the warm wood of the banister as I move onto the first step. It creaks a little beneath my weight, but I'm too curious to really care at the moment. I move up, gradually getting faster and faster as I go, until I eventually come out at the top. And sure enough, rooms seven to ten are spread out before me, along with a door labelled 'Private! No customers beyond this point'.

"Look like this is my stop…" I mutter to myself.

An hour later, I find myself sat on the bed in my new room, sketch pad in hand. It's not a great room if I'm honest with you, mum and dad would like it, but it's too country for me. Framed photographs of fields and various farm animals were hung along the wall before I took them down. I only left one up, of a dappled grey horse, simply because horses have always fascinated me. I think it's probably because many of the Heroes of the Legends rode horses; the Hero of the Twilight even had one called Epona. I covered the rest of the walls with my sketches, putting my favourite ones right above my bed so I can look at them while I sleep. I unpacked all my possessions, filled the tiny desk with all my art materials and hung the few clothes I have in the wardrobe, lining the bottom shelf with my many pairs of customized converses. I filled the bookshelf with all my favourite books, plugged my WiiU into the television, and hung my posters from all the empty hooks. And finally, I sat back on my bed with my sketch pad and soft pencils.

Now here I am, working away on a new sketch. A picture is starting to take place on the thick paper of my sketchbook; large blocks shoot up from the bottom of the page, etched with different shades of grey, each done carefully with a different pencil or technique. I added depth to the picture, drawing tiny windows spouting from the blocks, labeling them with corporate business names or putting shop signs hanging off the walls. I then moved onto the people, setting my nimble fingers to work drawing in different figures, busily going about their daily lives in the crowded streets. And finally, at the back centre of the picture, I began to draw another building. I laid out tall towers spiraling into the sky, rich architecture and vast walls towering high above the rest of the city, none other than the proud and strong castle of Castle Town.

I smile, seemingly satisfied with my work. I'm just about to pull the page from the book and hang it to my wall, when suddenly there's a loud knocking noise at the door. I look up quickly, snapping the sketch book shut as the door is pushed open, and the blond Sheikah boy pokes his head around the door.

"What do you want?" I ask, glancing him up and down.

He laughs a little. "Your mum's worried about you, she wants to know if you're planning on leaving this room any time today."

I roll my eyes, dropping my sketch book on my pillow as I reluctantly clamber to my feet. "Fine," I spit, grabbing my coat from the hooks. "I'm going for a walk, will that please her?"

"I guess," he shrugs. "Hey, I'll come with you if you like."

"I'd really rather you didn't," I say blatantly, though he doesn't look particularly put off by it.

"I'm being serious," he replies, "You don't know your way around the area and we're in the middle of nowhere, you could get lost. I'll come with you, show you around the village."

I smack one hand into my forehead. These people really are thick as a brick, aren't they?

"I don't want you to come with me!" I exclaim, "I want to be alone!"

"Oh, I got that!" He laughs, "It's just that your mum is-"

"Smothering me!" I cut him off. "Ugh, fine, you can come. But that doesn't mean I'm happy about it, ok?"

"Message understood…"

From the moment I stepped out of that house, I knew exactly what I was going to see. The road along the village was nothing but a dirt track, no sidewalks, no bicycle lanes, and no signs of life. We walked for fifteen minutes along the dusty road, and I didn't see a single other person, not even a car. The only other living beings in the area are a herd of cows that watched us walk, chomping lazily on grass as we passed them by. Sheik tried his best, oh he tried alright, to make conversation with me. He asked me all about my old school, what I was interested in, how I was liking the area, but the only responses he got were one word answers or indecipherable grunts. Eventually, I think he got the message and gave up.

Finally, we reached some signs of civilisation. Along one tiny portion of the road, there was a small cluster of houses grouped together, along with one miniature post office, and a solitary corner shop that appeared to sell postcards and hard candies. I know, exciting, right? Sheik said something about needing to get some birdseed for his mum, and dashed off across the road into the shop. Ironically, he checked left and right for traffic, despite the fact that we've seen no cars since leaving the house.

And that brings me to right about now. I stand, leaning against a low piece of wall with my hands deep in my coat pockets, ballooning my cheeks out of sheer boredom. Honestly, I hate it here, it's too quiet. In the city, there's always something going on, something new, someone to meet, somewhere to go. Yet here in the countryside, it's dead. I sigh, peering through the window of that little village shop. Sheik stands at the counter, the birdseed lying forgotten in front of him as he engages in a lengthy conversation with the balding man behind the till. I hang my head in exasperation, why is everyone in this crazy place so obsessed with these awkward, drawn out conversations?

Suddenly, I'm pulled from my own thoughts as a large shadow is cast over me, chilling my skin as it blocks the sunlight. I swallow hard, noticing the large pair of high-top trainers that step into my line of sight. Carefully looking up, I take in the rest of the figure. He wears baggy black jeans that fall too low around his ankles, dragging along the ground. He also wears a tight black t-shirt over his muscular torso, showing off his six-pack and toned fatigue. On top of this he sports a letterman jacket, red with white sleeves, and a large black 'GV' printed on the left side of his chest. Finally, I see his face, large, looming, and judgmental, with toxic yellow eyes that scan me menacingly. His hair is a bright flaming red colour, pushed and gelled until it peaks as a perfect pompadour. I don't want to even imagine how long he spends on his hair in the morning.

"Well, looks like there's a new boy in the village!" He laughs, his voice booming around the empty streets. He crosses his arms and he leans forward, towering over me. "Name?" He barks.

I raise my eyes a little at his blunt, rude, demands, straightening myself up as I reply. "Why don't you tell me yours first?"

He suddenly breaks into fits of low, hysterical laughter, clutching his stomach. "Oh look at the little city boy! He thinks he's tough! Nice accent, by the way." He spits, mocking me in his gruff voice.

I cross my arms, curling my lips into a cruel smirk as I retort. "Nice hair."

Suddenly his expression drops, forming into one of pure anger, creases appearing in the corner of his eyes as he huffs. "Ok, listen up city boy. You might think you're tough, but if you plan on sticking around here you need to learn the hierarchy."

I raise my eyebrows, laughing as I pat his arm patronisingly. "Wow, that's big word for you!"

I turn away, feeling a little proud of myself for standing up to that Neanderthal. I take few steps away from him, when suddenly I feel his iron hand clamp down on my shoulder as he pulls hard, forcing me to turn and face him. He grips onto the collar of my jacket with one large fist, dragging me closer to him until he's just a few inches from me. His breath is hot and moist on my skin as I grimace at the scent of salami passing through his lips as he growls at me, shaking me a little as he talks.

"Congratulations short ass, you've just made the list."

"The list?" I question, raising one eyebrow sarcastically.

"My list," he spits, "You made yourself public enemy number one by messing with Groose. You'd better find a good place to hide at school on Monday if you don't want to end up in serious trouble."

I open my mouth to reply, to give him some sarcastic come back, to tell him that I don't care if he's top dog around here, to show him that I simply couldn't care less. But before I can even verbalise my thoughts, a loud shout catches Groose's attention.

"Hey! Groose! Back off!"

He looks away from me, clearing my line of sight, allowing me to see the source of the voice. Sheik approaches us both, dropping the bag of bird seed against the low wall I was previously sat on, before turning to Groose. He forces his arm between us, shoving me back away from Groose and making me stumble on the dusty ground as he steps in front of me. Sheik crosses his arms authoritatively as he laughs at Groose's gormless expression.

"How about you leave my friends alone, yeah?" Sheik says, squaring up to Groose.

I frown a little at the word 'friend'. At no point did I say I wanted to be friends with this kid, I don't make friends with the stuck up, popular blond jocks. Kids like him are the ones you avoid, simply because they're all just egotistical and arrogant, and I'd really rather not get involved with people like him. So why the hell does he think that we're friends? What in Hyrule gave him that idea? Despite my objections, I don't dare to correct him at this point in time.

"Uhh… why are you fighting his battles?" Groose asks, "The kid picked a fight with me, he can look after himself."

Sheik laughs dismissively as he meets Groose's toxic gaze. "I am telling you, leave him alone." He says the last three words slowly, annunciating each one. "Don't make me kick your ass, again."

They both stand in silence for a few moments, Sheik's higher status never wavering as Groose tries to stand his ground. But eventually, he has to give up. He turns away, waving his arm in frustration as he walks away along the dusty road, muttering profanities under his breath.

He turns back, glancing over his shoulder momentarily as he calls: "You're on the list, city boy!"

I hold two fingers up to my forehead, giving him a sarcastic salute as he turns away. Sheik laughs, clapping me on the back as he grins.

"Are you ok?" He asks, looking up at me through his messy blond fringe.

"Fine," I spit. "I didn't need your help."

Sheik laughs lightly, "If you say so…"

He stoops down, collecting the bag of birdseed as we proceed back up the road towards the B&B again. But there's one thought niggling in the back of my mind. Sheik's words confused me…

"Don't make me kick your ass, again."

I frown, "What did you mean by again?"

He turns, looking at me with confusion in his eyes. "Huh?"

"You said 'don't make me kick your ass, again'. Have you done it before?"

He looks away, laughing a little as he does. "Yeah, back last year he was picking on Zelda, wouldn't leave her alone. So… I taught him a lesson, simple as that!"

"Oh…" I murmur, for lack of a better reply. So I was right about Zelda, she really does have him wrapped around her little finger.

I look up at him, squinting a little in the harsh sunlight. He walks slowly, proudly, as he carries that big bag of birdseed under one strong arm. He brushes his hair back carelessly as thoughts dance around in my mind. Why did he stand up for me against Groose? And why was Groose so quick to back down when challenged by Sheik, but not by me? Sheik turns to look at me, concerned by my thoughtful expression.

"Are you alright?" He asks.

I stand in silence for a few moments, unsure of how to answer. Eventually, I simply say "I'm not your friend."