Thank you all, your reviews inspire me to update! I'm trying not to be repetitive with the whole sunset thing, my excuse is that it happens at the same time as the last chapter so it makes sense that they'd both see it. I have a thing for sunsets. I love you all very dearly, Larson bless.

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7. Joanne Chapter

Joanne sat in a large leather swivel chair. It smelled strange, like it was past its expiration date. Did chairs even have expiration dates? She sighed leaning back. Smelly or not, it was very comfortable. Joanne was in her father's office, about a half hours drive away from home, in New York City. This is where she spent most of her afternoons. Both her parents worked very hard for some very important company dong some very important thing that her parents would never really specify. It had been this way ever since Joanne could remember. In the morning she would do what she needed to, to get ready for the day (get dressed, eat breakfast, ect) then her father would bring her to wherever she was going that day: day care, pre-school, and now kindergarten. After this was over, her father would pick her up and bring her to the office. Her mother was never awake before Joanne left so she only saw her in the evening, after she came home.

The office was large enough as offices went; enough room to comfortably fit the desk, swivel chair, and bookcase that occupied the room. A window sat behind the desk, but the chair was turned away from it. Joanne twisted the chair around to face it. Standing on the swivel chair, she pressed her face against the glass. She had never been up higher than this. With a total of thirty something floors (not counting the non-existent thirteenth floor) her building towered above the ones around it. It was a dizzying drop to the busy street below. Joanne stood up completely to get a better view. Another tall building sat across the street, slightly to the left. She could see into some of the windows, most of them were just full of people. Those kinds of people, who didn't think, didn't live: only their fingers alive, typing out memos and fliers for eternity. Joanne looked to the right of the office building. The sun was setting. She could see forever, all the way across the city. Sunlight glinted off windows, while buildings appeared black silhouettes. Central Park was a large black haze of treetops. The Hudson looked wonderful, the pollution undetectable under the layer of sunshine.

"You really shouldn't stand on swivel chairs." Joanne spun, falling back down into a sitting position.

"Aidan!" She said reproachfully, scowling at the young man before her. Aidan grinned. He was in his early twenties with a mop of black hair that often fell into his eyes. Aidan had worked for Joanne's father since he'd gotten out of college. He often told Joanne the story of how he'd almost quit, but then he'd met her and decided to stay, if only to keep her company. Aidan was a cross between a father, older brother, and a friend. Joanne struggled to keep her scowl in place. She failed. Though he didn't know it, Joanne smiled more around Aidan than anywhere else, except perhaps at school…with Maureen. Maureen, that girl was like nothing Joanne had ever encountered before. She was the exact opposite of everything else in her life: loud, eccentric, friendly, open, bold, a little rude at times. Maureen contrasted completely with Joanne's life in a way that was difficult for the small girl to ignore.

"You look like your father, sitting behind a big desk, thinking." Joanne wrinkled her nose.

"Don't say that." Aidan walked behind the desk and sat on the arm of her chair.

"Alright. Ms.Jo how was your first day of kindergarten?" Joanne looked up at him. Even sitting down, he was much taller than her. He remembered. Her father remembered that she now had to go a different place for six hours a day, he had even asked how it gone, but he had a phone call to answer before Joanne could start speaking and hadn't remembered to ask her afterwards. Joanne didn't blame him; nothing was ever her father's fault. But her mother hadn't remembered at all. It wasn't that Joanne's parents didn't love her; they just didn't really understand how to be parents. They didn't understand that sometimes she would need them and it couldn't wait. That she wouldn't just go away when there was work to be done. That it wasn't always going to be easy. Her mother wasn't really anything. She was efficient, brilliant, organized, something of a control freak, but not over Joanne, never over Joanne. She had all the skills of a computer useful, but often unfeeling. She seemed to resent Joanne for taking up so much time. Her father was better. It wasn't that he disliked his daughter; he just didn't really understand her. His knowledge of young girls was very limited; he thought they were all the same. It confused him to no end that his daughter would turn aside the Barbies® for "The Little Engine That Could". That she had taught herself to read at age four instead of watching TV. But he did his best by her, even if he was sometimes forgetful.

"It was wonderful!" She exclaimed. " There were tons of kids, and we played, and everything was just like you said it would be." Joanne went on to describe her day: How Mark had turned purple, how she and Collins had sung the ABC song, how Roger had brought in dino trees, and Maureen. Joanne stopped.

"How was your day, Aidan?" Aidan gave her a small smile. He wasn't going to tell her that the coffee machine had given him second degree burns, or that the computer had erased some important documents that he couldn't replace, or that he had almost been fired…again. He wouldn't burden her with his problems when they were so menial in the long run, especially since she would bug him about it until he promised not to do whatever it was that got him in trouble in the first place. He would never break a promise to her however trivial.

"It was fine," Aidan told her instead. "I downloaded a new computer game if you want to try it out." Joanne nodded absently, she was still thinking about school. That place made sense to her, like a saying her father had once told her: A Place For Everything, And Everything In Its Place. School was a place for learning. It had its place.

"You know I'm kind of hungry, you want to go get something?" Aidan asked. Joanne slid off the chair. Aidan marveled at how tiny she was: barely 3'10. How could such a small person have such a good perception of the world? But that was just it, Joanne was a person, a living, breathing, thinking person. "Come on, let's go tell Daisy where we're going."

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I got the name Daisy from Voice Mail 3 (I'm pretty sure anyway). I'm not that happy with this chapter and I'm not quiet sure why. I know there is a reason and I will probably remember it as soon as I post this…that kind of sucks. On the bright side, I converted one of my friends into RENThead-ism…? I actually really like that word. It's a good word. I promise the next chapter will be less serious; I just need to figure out what their home lives are like. Umm, just to remind you, the order the chapters focus on goes: Collins, Mark, Mimi, Roger, Maureen, Angel, Joanne, Benny and April don't get their own chapters because I don't like them. Well I love Taye, who doesn't? But Benny really annoys me. Review please!