Disclaimer: I do not own PLL. After all these years though, I don't think I wanna own it. Applause to Marlene for owning the most chaotic show in the history of like, ever.

So, this is a new story (obviously) but it will not be a one shot. It's been sitting around for a veeeeery long while (like, two years at least), but I finally wanted to post it. I hope this is a challenge for me, but mostly a wild story for you all. I'm gonna write this one out though, and see how it goes. And fair warning: There will be some pretty dark-themes throughout the story, and they may get graphic.

Enjoy, lovelies.


June 1st, 2018.

Birds preached melodies from their seated positions on the branches of trees, the sunlight pouring down through the summer leaves in rays of golden, heavenly streams. A white fence lined the neatly trimmed grass, blooms of orange and yellow pansies gathered at bottom of each white, wooden plank. Soft, indie music floated from the front window of the extensive, modern house as a glass of raspberry lemonade rested on the arm of a chic, pink and white lawn chair. The morning sun stretched high into the sky, reaching its burning arms down below to the surface and mixing with cool, midday air, creating the perfect temperature for the neighborhood to enjoy. Dogs barked, barbecues sizzled, music lingered, and the day glowed.

The loud, rough sound of a truck engine, though, suddenly broke the ongoing aesthetic. It crept over the horizon of the road, trudging its way down the smooth asphalt and coming to a slow halt right across the street.

Brownish-blonde, tousled hair flipped in the smooth breeze as a muscled, but lean young man stood up from his position on the lawn chair. He pulled down his Ray Ban sunglasses and squinted at the large vehicle on the other side of the road, looking for anyone else other than the four people, who he assumed to be the movers, hopping out of the truck.

Only a second later, a white Bentley pulled up behind the truck, a man, a woman, and a teenage girl stepping out of the car. The blonde boy pushed his sunglasses back onto the bridge of his nose but kept gazing at the movers, the man, the woman, and the girl who began to unpack boxes out of the truck and the white car.

"Get out of my seat, Jason."

Jason absentmindedly replied to the pushy, annoyed comment that came from behind him,"I'm not in your seat."

He felt a hand on his waist, and then he was being shoved to this side. Rolling his eyes, he put a hand on his hip and retorted,"Don't you see me standing up? Or has all that toxic dye seeped into your head?"

"I don't dye my hair, jockstrap. And correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't you the one who dyed his hair green once?"

Jason finally turned to the voice and frowned. "You know that was for a charity event, Alison, don't even try that. Like, really, did you come out here just to bother me, or...?"

"I came out here to finish tanning, and I'd like to get back to that. So you can leave now."

Jason eyed the girl up and down; her golden hair only shimmered more as the sunlight hit her locks, as it was pulled up in a loose, messy bun. Her smooth face was clad in a pair of Tom Ford sunglasses. A gold necklace dropped around her neck and in between the dip of her chest, where her skin met a lacy, black bikini top that had a matching bikini bottom. The curves of her body were slender and soft, her light skin only spotted with sparse freckles here and there.

The blonde boy ignored the blunt dismissal and motioned to the movers across the street. "If you weren't so busy terrorizing me, you would've noticed that we have new neighbors."

Alison stepped next to Jason, pointing her eyes in the same direction he was looking at. Her eyes briefly glanced at the older man and woman, but locked on the slim, younger brunette girl carrying boxes into the bright, white house. Her walk was timid and her eyes were downcast, and everything about her already seemed awkward and enclosed. Her clothes were simple, nothing too lavish but not dull enough to make Alison gag. Her dark hair was pulled back in a simple, petite ponytail and she walked briskly from the car to the front door to the car again and to the front door again.

"She's got a nice ass," Jason lightly admired to himself. Alison immediately rolled her eyes and scoffed,"God, how the hell am I related to you? You're such a pig sometimes."

Jason retorted, throwing his head back as he laughed,"This pig has three million followers on Instagram." He smoothed a hand over his shirtless torso, making it an effort to flex his well-defined abdomen at his vexed little sister. "People must really dig pigs nowadays, huh?"

Alison sat down and leaned back into her plastic lawn chair once again, her eyes still grazing over the new neighbors across the street. She then closed her eyes and leaned her head backwards with her nose pointed to the sky, and sighed,"Go away, Jason."

Her brother silently disappeared and she tried to focus on the mellow hum of the music and not the subtle background noise of boxes being unloaded from truck across the street.


It was only a bit after five in the afternoon. Alison now lounged on the black leather sofa in the middle of the spacious living room, her eyes focused on the screen of her iPhone. She'd changed into a pair of ripped denim shorts, and a flowing yellow tank top, and let her luminous blonde hair rain downwards now. She tapped repeatedly at her phone as she replied to a lengthy and rather bitter text from her best friend, Mona, who seemed to be at it again with her boyfriend, Mike.

An annoyed and rather selfish feeling engulfed Alison's chest; how didn't she have a boyfriend yet? There were a few cute guys in the neighborhood she'd had her eye on, but none of them set off that spark she was supposed to feel; that feeling she'd only seen in the cheesy teenage movies, where she'd stutter and blush and her knees would buckle from left to right. But no matter the boy who approached her, the feeling seemed to never, ever happen.

Of course, Alison DiLaurentis held herself to high standards; she was never one to go chasing after a boy. If anything, boys were the ones who chased after her. And she knew it wouldn't be long before the right guy with a dimpled smile, dreamy eyes, and pampered hair came along, and made her longing flush away. It was just a matter of patience and time.

"Patience and time," Alison quietly repeated to herself.

"Ali, honey."

Alison's head perked up at the sound of her mother's voice. "Yeah, mom?"

Her mother appeared in front of her, looking like the poster woman for the classic suburban wife, and holding what looked like a plate of cookies wrapped in colored plastic and a pink ribbon. She grinned down at her daughter, her facial features nearly identical to Alison's; her eyes were only a bit more grey than blue in color and a bit of age lined her face. Alison raised her eyebrows and questioned,"Who are those for?"

"Our new neighbors, and I need you to deliver them," Alison's mother beamed even brighter as she explained.

It had been less than four hours and of course, her mother was already eager to shower the new neighbors with homemade treats. If there was one word that Alison could best describe her mother with, it would forever be hospitable. The woman would practically jump at the thought of new neighbors to greet gifts with, dinner parties to organize for, and wine-tasting trips to venture on with her country club friends. The lavish life was her mother's daily breath of fresh air, and although it always warmed Alison's heart to see her mother smile, Alison's forced presence in these activities could sometimes be so boring. Alison dramatically groaned and dropped her head backwards onto the arm of the sofa, whining,"Why can't Jason do it?"

"Because I saw that they have a daughter, and she looked like she might be the same age as you. She could be a new friend, you know."

Alison made a face at her mother and countered,"Or she could be a total weirdo. Remember that psycho-ginger girl, Leslie? And how she tried to steal my hair when she slept over? She literally almost cut my hair off, Mom. My hair."

"Well, that's why you don't speak to her anymore, right? But anyways, go on and give these to them," Mrs. DiLaurentis pushed the large plate into her daughter's reluctant hands,"And tell them it's a gift from their new neighbors, courtesy of the DiLaurentis family." Mrs. DiLaurentis pranced off with giggles and smiles before her daughter could protest any longer, and Alison let out a heavy, exaggerated sigh, slipping on her sandals. She didn't know how she had agreed to this, but then again, it's not like she could've resisted the brightness that always danced in her mother's eyes.

She pulled the front door shut behind her and stepped outside, staring across the road at the large, white house sitting so elegantly in the sunlight. It sat next to the row of houses that lined the road, each one haughty and boasting in appearance, much like the people who resided in each home. As she continued to stare at the home directly across the road, she began to reflect at how her family had always been so well off; always poised with elegance and manner when it came to living.

Jason actually was, despite Alison's constant teasing, a model; he was no Jay Alvarez, but he'd strutted down a couple of runways and taken his shirt off for blinding lights and sketchy photographers more than one would ever possibly like to. After graduating last year from the state's third best private school, colleges sent him recruitment letters up, down, right, and left, but he never went; a woman with dark lipstick and a denim-colored suit visited the house one day, offering him a modeling agency and several healthy paychecks attached to it. Since then, his green eyes always had knack for staying in the limelight. Alison never really knew what he did with all that money; she didn't really care either.

Alison, despite being graced with the good looks and the opportunity to model as well, never did. Her father deeply disapproved of cameras capturing every angle and crevice on her delicate body, so most of her time was consumed by shopping with Mona, tanning by the pool, and attending regal yet wild parties. Mom and Dad never really pressured her to get a job, seeming content with the thought of their only daughter becoming the poster woman for an HGTV housewife (which Alison swore on eternity would never happen to someone like her) and so the world was at her wants' disposal. When she wasn't racking up a credit card debt though, that time would be spent with her precious mother.

Her mom, Jessica, had always been a bright, radiating soul inside and out, constantly cooking and cleaning and chatting it up with the neighbors and campaigning and donating and fundraising for any cause; she was the best stay-at-home mom that anyone could have asked for, and seeing Mrs. DiLaurentis would instantly make anybody grin. Her mother was the only person in the world who she could throw a tantrum at and immediately feel guilty about it, or come to crying about the tiniest pimple on her chin or worse-than-usual period cramps. All the love and purity that resided in the heavens was once personified into a woman, and Alison was sure that same day, Jessica DiLaurentis came floating down to Earth. And then there was her father, Kenneth DiLaurentis.

His grey face appearing in her mind instantly pushed her out of the golden era she believed she was living in. Not a smirk, not a laugh, nor a tear ever rose or fell on her father's face. Stone expressions with little to no change is what she ever saw. She'd only see him days at a time, if not weeks, where he would be home from a business trip, sipping black, tasteless coffee and looking down at illegible scribbles from his office files. She'd always encounter him in the kitchen, his face wrinkly and gloomy, and his eyes empty and hard. He'd greet her without looking up, in a small mutter,"Alison."

"Hi, dad," she'd always say back, and then they moved on. That was their routine, that was their only interaction, that was their relationship, and that was where they stood.

Alison had made it to the front door of the new neighbors' house by the time she had stopped reflecting. She wondered if this family would be snobs like the rest of the neighborhood (even though Alison could admit to being a bit of a snob herself) or if they would be the quiet, introverted family who would get rumors and whispers started up around the neighborhood. Alison remembered when a family once had sixty pounds of cocaine stashed inside of their garage, locked in a massive safe that nobody else bothered to question. A few weeks later, the police and a swat team showed up at their house, and the family was gone with the wind.

She gripped the plate of cookies and sighed, pressing the doorbell. A soft ding-dong in the form of a tune chimed from inside of the house, and a few seconds later, a tan, short woman with beautiful, dark brown hair opened the door with a timid smile.

Alison forced a greeting smile onto her face and spoke,"Hey, we're from across the street. We saw that you just moved in and we wanted to give you a little housewarming gift. I'm Alison, Alison DiLaurentis."

The woman's smile bloomed brighter, taking the cookies from Alison's hands. "Thank you so much, Alison, I'm Pam Fields. Did you make these yourself?"

"My mom did, actually. Her name is Jessica DiLaurentis, and she's the taller and much more preppier version of me," Alison breezily explained. Like thin air, a man with dark brown, nearly black hair and a crinkling, cheerful face appeared behind Pam Fields, his smile possibly brighter than Alison's mom's (which was quite a bright smile.)

"Oh, Wayne, this is Alison. Her mother sent over some delicious cookies as a housewarming gift."

"Nice to meet you, Alison! I'm Wayne, but you can call me Mr. Fields," he said, firmly shaking the blonde's hand. Something about him immediately made Alison feel welcomed; the happiness in his eyes or the genuine curl of his smile, or the polite crinkles by the side of his eyes. "Oh, we should let you meet our daughter, Emily. Emily, come downstairs and meet our new neighbor, Alison!"

Alison stood there, growing more and more awkward as the husband and wife stood there with her, waiting for Emily, guessing that it was the young, dark haired girl she'd seen moving boxes into the house earlier that day.

The sound of faint footsteps crept behind the couple, and they stepped back as the girl, Emily, appeared in the doorway. Alison's eyes studied her face as Emily's eyes were cast downwards, Alison noting the immediate shyness of this girl. Her dark hair glittered in the dusk sunset that was leisurely dipping below the horizon, and she eventually looked up and met eyes with Alison, the orange and red rays causing her brown orbs to sparkle and her skin to glow.

Alison's blue eyes studied her longer, and she watched the brunette haired girl silently struggle to get her words out, having to break the concealed posture she looked so accustomed to.

"Uh, hi, I'm Emily," her soft, timid voice matching her reserved looks. Alison tilted her head lightly with as she softly responded back,"I'm Alison. Nice to meet you."

A full minute passed, composed of making eye contact then breaking it within seconds, the awkwardness pouring heavily into every silent breath each girl took. Alison, direly desperate to end the god-awfully uncomfortable meeting, held out the plate of cookies in her hands and put on the most affable, dimple-faced smile her face would muster. She spoke with poise and confidence, watching the new family of three as she finally introduced,"Welcome to Wellington Avenue."


First chapter, done! I'm hoping this story is slightly different from what I've written before, especially with the wording and the dynamic and the characters and the plot and the visuals and just, the overall story as a whole, lol. This first chapter was just a little introductory-thing, the next chapter is going to open up to new things, new people, etc. Let me know how you guys feel about this story in a review. I want it to be different from what I've written in the past (as in, things different from constant, sexytime one-shots, lmao.)

Thank you all so much for reading and any reviews, it means the world and more to me.
(And watch PLL on April 18th x.)