Notes:

This story will have elements loosely based on an existing series called "Tramps Like Us", but it's not a full adaptation. It's my first try in writing fanfiction, which began as a warmup practice in between working on original stories. I don't have everything outlined, and I'm working towards specific moments I've conjured in my head. So we'll see where and how far this goes.

Edits may be frequent now and then as I'm new at writing. Reviews and comments are much appreciated.

Without further ado, enjoy!

Chapter 1: A Second Encounter

The soft pitter-patter of the midnight rain thrummed in Maren's ears. It's amusing, she numbly thinks, to hear melodic beats from something so simple even in this situation. Her body shivered as it ached for movement in this brief respite. In the seeming bleakness of it all, music still finds its way to comfort her. Some of the raindrops fall on her face as if to soothe her while she fades in and out a few times.

She hears a small rustling nearby. It grew louder as she looked up one last time, the sight making her instinctively recall a few events before her current predicament.

"Five, six, seven eight! Five, six, seven eight!"

Maren was in a trance. Her muscles throbbed with the R&B bass that reverberated in the practice room. Her feet moved with the melody, feeling every slow drop with sharp and sensual transitions of lunges and isolation sets. She's in her zone, the song's beats coursing through every inch of her body.

Wondering why, why, why

Know you ain't shy, shy, shy

I'ma say bye, bye, bye, better know I won't think twice

Better let go of your pride

Do it now, just do it now, oh yeah

It took her awhile to break out of the trance, realising only moments after that the last track has ended and everyone in her group is already scurrying around to go home. It was the last session for the day and one of the late ones. Jolting herself up from the floor, she fixes her sweaty bangs and prepares to head off.

"Maren, just a sec!" Stopping her tracks for a moment, Maren turns around to meet her group's lead choreographer, Rapunzel. Or Punz, as she insists on being called. "Really great job today! You're syncing so well with our sets and you're only like what, around two weeks in? I'm really, really glad I managed to have you sign with us, makes me feel really optimistic for Ahtohallan's brand!"

Maren scratches the back of her head, a little embarrassed by the compliment. "Yeah, will be two by tomorrow I guess? Thanks," Maren said with a light blush and smile. The Ahtohallan company is new and struggling amidst the fifty dance studios situated within the city of Arendale alone. Despite that, it's almost guaranteed to rise in reputation thanks to new talents joining this autumn under Punz's wing.

"Well, I sure can't wait for us to do cool gigs in the long run together! We actually have one more girl joining onboard, and she's uh-mazing. Gonna introduce her later in the week, and your group will be pretty much complete!" Punz exclaims excitedly, while clasping her hands together. While she can be a bundle of nerves at times, her friendly nature has been a warm source of relief to Maren's own, making her less homesick and foreign in the new city. Rushing off hurriedly with quick goodbyes, Maren heads off to the city subway.

Arendale, the biggest city in the Northern States. A metropolis that boasts its bright lights and bustling streets, from its shopping centres of high fashion brands to skyscrapers that hold reputable companies of different sizes. It might as well be the center of the world. Especially for a creative, making a name of your own in the city is possibly one of the biggest dreams one can have. The performing arts industry in the city is highly competitive and renowned for being world class.

Maren is just one of those thousands of young adults enticed by this known fact, and part of the minority who took the plunge in taking the big risks to make it happen. Dance is her calling. It had taken her a while to find her focus while she attended a generalised visual and performing arts program in the smaller city of Sutherland. As soon as she had the epiphany, she set her eyes on the biggest stage in the country. Gotta aim high. The Uldran way. The thought crosses Maren's mind as she looked upon the colourful digital billboards of Aren Square. Finding the small budding company of Ahtohallan had been a miracle, its hybrid nature of R&B, hip hop, and modern dance appealing most to her.

Walking off from the station with her earphones on, she swiftly walks toward the block of her apartment, still feeling the environment around her to be surreal. She wonders when it will finally sink in.

Her apartment is nothing close to fancy. It's quite old, located in one of the poorer suburban neighbourhoods located on the edge of the southwestern side of the city. The gap between the rich and poor has not stopped growing the moment it has marked itself as the centre of the Northern States.

The ragged complex, which is a 30-minute subway trip from Ahtohallan's studio, is managed by a grumpy landlord who's lately been making her reconsider her stay if it wasn't so hard to find a place she could afford. It was admittedly the result of an impatient and rushed decision driven by her need to move to the city as soon as possible.

Despite the relatively cheap price of rent, she has been a little worried lately with money. She had to help out with her grandmother's financial issues back home in addition to her student loans leaving her more broke than usual. Struggling to make ends meet while being only two months in the city isn't exactly a hopeful situation to be in, even with her second job in a public high school supporting her on the side.

As she walked up the steps to her door trying to remember a small worry she tucked away at the back of her mind with the help of dance practice, it materialized in the form of a paper inserted at her door's opening. Shit, Maren internally cursed, nerves coming back as she hurriedly unlocks her door and goes inside with the paper in hand.

It's the second time she received the overdue notice, and the last phone call with the landlord didn't really go well. Arendale is the most expensive city in the country so it's to be expected that the rent situation is pretty much hell. Sighing in exasperation, Maren flopped on her bed, drowning in her thoughts.

So it's not gonna be enough? Maren contemplated. Coming from the small and poor town of North Uldra didn't discourage her before thanks to her stubborn and optimistic personality, but it's starting to feel that she is being naive. She's more than willing to commit to the life of grinding if that's what it takes, but if she's going to be homeless in the middle of it (an experience she never wants to have ever again) then there's no point to keep up with a losing battle. She would be forced to pack her bags and go back. Letting out a small grunt, she gets up and changes into her sleepwear, hoping to get enough rest for whatever comes tomorrow and lets her exhaustion take over.

Fweeeeep! The sound of Maren's whistle breaks through the squeaks of shoes in movement. It was the last PE class of the day for her schedule in the afternoon. The routine of a teacher assistant is not so bad. Especially when she's on the move most of the time, something she was quite picky about when looking for a second job. It doesn't pay that high but it's been helping her get by. If anything, I should feel lucky, Maren notes. Looking for a flexible day job is tougher than it sounds, when a lot of young adults her age are on their feet to take on as many work hours as they can to survive in the city.

Corona High's school complex is fairly small for a public one. Fairly new, it's located in the northwestern part of the city and is one of the top ten public schools in the country, comprising a body of two thousand students. It has a reputation in providing a high quality, competitive education that rivals private institutions, in particular with its Math and Science fields. A pretty special feat for its underpaid staff, Maren thinks to herself. Despite the financial hiccups with the school's budget lately, she takes pride in being part of the staff body despite being just an assistant. Which makes her worry again over her living situation. She really doesn't want to go back home in her small town and lose these opportunities that she may never get again if she's forced to leave Arendale.

"Hello, Earth to Maren!", an enthusiastic voice brings her out of her thoughts. Maren turns to her right to face Flynn, a tall, dark haired guy in his early thirties with a good heart and a charming face, the head PE teacher she's been working with since she started. "I was asking if you got anything on your mind because you were kinda spaced out during last class. The entire time you had this face on," Flynn says as he tried to imitate her apparently blanked expression during the past two hours. "Not what I usually expect from your usual feistiness."

Maren lets out a small chuckle at his silly face and gives him a light jab. "I'm fine, sorry. Just… got a lot of things in my mind. Pain in the ass money stuff. There was a small emergency back home with my grandma so… got a little late with rent." Her brows furrowed. Money struggles is a bit of a common talk amongst the staff, but talking about it in the open is difficult regardless. Everyone's got their own situations to deal with, which can make you feel alone despite the openness.

Flynn shoots her a sympathetic look. "Sorry to hear that, kid. It never gets easier, wish I could help in some way. You'll be fine though, right? Will you make it to the next payment?" The pair makes a right turn up to the stairs that led to the staff room for the sophomore department. "Yeah, I should be able to in three days, just a day before the next deadline." Maren said with a sigh. "Though to be honest, I really wouldn't be this worried if my landlord wasn't such an asshole. And apparently a racist too, based on our last phone call." She adds with a bitter note. It's not that she didn't see it coming especially in Arendale's half progressive and half conservative population, but shit like that still sucks on top of everything else she has to deal with.

Flynn opens the door for them to the half-filled and open-spaced staff room. They continue to chat for a bit as they walk towards their desks. "Even with the short time we've known each other, I know you're tough and stubborn, so I'm not too worried. I still hope you won't let it get to you, though. Man, I really hate those racist dickheads. More of them have been pulling out their ugly asses lately. I bet you this city's stench would significantly go down by a quarter the sooner we get rid of them."

Maren was about to throw him a snicker when they heard the clearing of a throat behind them. She didn't have to wait to turn around, expecting icy, blue orbs to stare at them like daggers incredulously. As they often do. "Language, Mr. Rider," uttered by a stoic voice. Their department's head coordinator stood firmly nearby their desks, donning her daily formal look, this time comprising of a dark indigo suit covering a white blouse underneath and accompanied by a pencil skirt of the same indigo color. Her platinum blonde hair was placed in its usual bun, with strands of bangs falling on her forehead, framing a beautiful face by convention. Before the pair could even reply, the blonde turns away to head into her office, an inner room inside their staff space specially reserved for the coordinator. Just as the door is closed from the inside, Maren and Flynn burst into a fit of giggles as they sit on their respective desks.

Elsa Larsen was really a force to be reckoned with. At 28, she is the youngest coordinator in Corona High who manages the entire sophomore program while specialising in the Math and Chemistry subjects. She's also one of the biggest reasons behind the school's rise in reputation, ever since she joined its faculty four years ago and climbed her way to her current role. Known for her extensive knowledge, sharp way of speech and strict teaching, the moniker "Ice Queen" has been thrown her way a lot of times amongst students and staff alike.

Since her harsh strictness isn't limited to students only, there has been more than a couple of awkward silences and back and forth between Elsa and other faculty members, and Maren was unfortunately not just a witness in one of those cases. It's been two weeks since the incident but ever since she was reprimanded (lowkey insulted) for being "overly friendly" with some students in the hallway, the older woman has left a bit of a bitter taste in her mouth that made being around her uncomfortable. With a tinge of guilt, she's a little thankful whenever Elsa is not in the open space or is closed off inside her office.

Maren is pulled away from her thoughts on the blonde woman by the sound of her phone's vibration on her desk. Grimacing at the caller's name, she quickly slides the green symbol and puts the phone on her ear, getting up from her desk to find privacy. There was some slight chattering around in the staff room, which slowly turned into background noise as she listened to words from the other end.

Words that made the world around her completely drown in a buzz, as she tries to digest them with a painful realisation.

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

"Please, you can't do this Mr. Clayton. I really would have the money in three days! I don't understand why you're doing this right now, I still have the right to extend until the deadli—"

"I don't give a fuck. We're going by my rules as this is my apartment, my property." Merciless eyes stare down at her with the point of a demeaning finger. Maren absolutely hates that she's almost pleading at this heartless asshole. "Two strikes, girl. I already gave you that one chance. Really, I should have known, especially with the likes of you!"

Holy fucking shit. Maren stared back in disbelief, now boiling with silent anger that's threatening to erupt from her core. "You know what," Maren abruptly announces. "Sure, I'll leave this rotting shithole." Before Clayton could throw back a retort she quickly entered her room and scrambled to pack. Thankfully she didn't invest much at all in furnishing.

It was going to be a long night nonetheless.

She's really done it now.

She glanced at her old watch. It's gotten a bit late, just a quarter past ten in the evening. Exhausted from walking around aimlessly in mild shock, she sits at a bench on the subway station while clutching her sports bag and suitcase in hand.

She's now at a crossroads. She can either hop on this train to go back to North Uldra or she can choose to stay. If she stays, she'll be on the streets homeless until she can manage to get the money for a cheap AirBnb (holy shit she has gotten that broke)… but just thinking about the hunt for a new place to rent has left her feeling hopeless. Rooming with a stranger she doesn't trust is also not an option. Her future has never felt this bleak, and she's fighting back the tears that have been threatening to fall since she started packing earlier.

Is it worth going through all this? Finally asking the question to herself, she naturally arrives to an answer.

I can't go back. Or rather, I don't want to. I need to keep going no matter what.

With a renewed resolve, she clings to it before it dissipates and unlocks her phone. Although she trusts Flynn, she has never met his brothers so it's still quite a risk. Punz! Punz lives with her mom… and though she has heard unpleasant stories about her manipulative tendencies, it's still the safer option. She missed her night session due to this crazy situation, and she knows she would be understanding.

She was about to click the call button on Punz's contact name when she heard a couple of footsteps getting closer followed by a whistle. Fuck, how long did I space out? Suddenly aware of how empty the subway station has become aside from her and three bloodshot eyed guys, Maren is on her feet. A sinking feeling settles in her stomach as she begrudgingly lets go of her suitcase, knowing it would only hinder her movement on the worst case scenario that she was sure is about to come. She tightens her hold on her sports bag even more, thanking her earlier self for being sound enough to put all her most important things in it.

"Whoa, like a deer in headlights! No need to be alarmed now lady," the snicker of a voice from her behind setting off sirens in her body even louder. Two more guys are now approaching her, clouded dark eyes accompanied by stretched smiles that were enough for her to bolt as soon as she found an opening between them.

"Hey, have a little fun with us will you!?" Sprinting to find the closest exit in the underground, she forced her tired legs to keep pumping. Run goddammit! Maren yells at herself inwardly, as she hears the sounds of grunts and laughter closing in. Why are they so fast!? Internally hating herself for letting panic eat her time earlier that night, she turns to an empty and long alleyway and doesn't stop. She needs to get to a place where there's people, but luck has not been on her side at this moment in time. Racking her brain for knowledge on these streets she's never ventured in, she eyes a high fence by a left corner which seemingly led to a rather brighter neighbourhood, which at least she hopes is not out of her imagination. It's very dark, and there's nowhere else that looks safer. Tightening her bag around her body, she climbs the metallic fence all the way up and jumps down too soon on the other side, not recognising the huge, sharp and shattered pieces of glass on the ground nearby a garbage disposal dump.

Maren's body is screaming from pain all over, not having the time to realize the cuts on her body and face. I… need.. A place to hide in… gotta… keep… running. Willing her mind and body to keep awake as she's most likely bruising all over from the high fall, she keeps running as far as she could. She doesn't know how long she's been running away, and all she can think about is her grandma back home.

Rain has started to pour heavily in the autumn night. Not noticing the change of environment to a more peaceful neighbourhood of small condos, she finds a couple of huge carton boxes by the entrance of one of them. Cautiously looking behind her, it seems that they've lost her trail. Luck finally got on her side as the boxes were empty and one was big enough for her to fit in. Without a second thought, she places herself in one of the boxes and curls inside, hugging her sports bag as she starts to shiver. A wave of darkness claims her.

In the midst of that darkness, she faintly dreams looking up to a familiar pair of blue orbs, her consciousness fading out before she could recall their owner's name.

More notes:

I may need a beta reader. If you want to help out, contact me on Tumblr or Twitter under the same username.