Tristin stared blankly at the bare wall. The walls that had once been covered with the nuances of his life and the room that had once held rich furnishings and state of the art electronics were now as empty as he felt inside. He shook his head, as if trying to wake himself from the nightmare that was now his life. He took one last lingering look around the cold mansion that one might loosely describe as "home", then joined his parents outside, where they were waiting with what remained of their once exorbitant amount of possessions. Tristin climbed into the Mercedes, a remnant of the lifestyle they were being forced to give up. No one spoke as it pulled out of the driveway, away from the towering mansion and all that it represented. No words were needed.



"Have I mentioned lately how much I enjoy these massacres disguised as dinners?" Lorelai asked brightly.

Rory snickered softly to herself and concentrated on the swirling pattern of the tablecloth in front of her to keep the laughter from spilling out.

"Honestly, Lorelai, can't you ever be serious?" sighed an exasperated Emily.

"Nope, I'm only programmed for witty and charming." Another bright smile followed.

They were at it again. "Is this a new tablecloth, grandma? I like it." Rory interjected.

Emily beamed. "Why, yes it is. It was hand embroidered from a new Indonesian thread..."

Lorelai rolled her eyes and discreetly rubbed her nose mockingly, in the universal sign for brown noser. Rory shrugged innocently.

Though the weekly Friday night dinner wasn't the most harmonious event, it was an amusing distraction from the monotony of the long summer months. Not that she had much to complain about. She was satisfied with her summer thus far. True, her relationship with Dean had fizzled out days after the reconciliation. But both realized they were back together more out of a need for closure than lingering feelings. And so, Rory and Dean had broken up for the second (and final) time, with no hard feelings.

Life had gone on for Rory. She hung out with Lane and her mom and consumed staggering amounts of Luke's coffee. She read and reread countless great literary classics and helped her mom at the inn. She even went to the club with her grandfather a few times in a vain attempt to improve her golf skills. But something was nagging her...something she couldn't place. She had this vague sensation in the pit of her stomach warning her that something was about to happen.

The dinner conversation had gone on during Rory's inner monologue. She unconsciously filtered the information, a talent she had mastered after years of living in Stars Hollow with it's eccentric (but endearing) inhabitants. Her ears perked up at the mention of a familiar name, one with a huge amount of confusion and regret (on her part) attached to it.

"What was that, grandpa?"

Richard casually repeated the last piece of information he had been discussing with Emily while Lorelai idly shoveled her dinner around her plate.

"Actually, this concerns someone you go to school with, Rory. Edward Dugrey lost almost everything in bad business investments. They had to sell their mansion and are actually moving to Stars Hollow. I'm helping Edward to salvage what he can..."

The rest of the information was lost on Rory. She couldn't grasp the fact that Tristin's family, one of the most influential forces in Hartford, was...broke?


The Mercedes sped down the highway, Tristin's thoughts flowing at a similar rate. Though he appeared cool and unaffected on the outside, he was deeply emotional on the inside. His rational side told him that everything would be okay. Before their deaths, his grandparents had set up a trust fund for college in his name. He had a full scholarship from Chilton for the rest of his high school career, provided he keeps his grades up. His near future was secure. His family was nowhere near destitute. Though most of their money was gone, they still had a good amount left, enough to be considered upper middle class. But in light of their previous wealth, what they had left seemed insufficient. His emotions, however, told a different story. Socially, he didn't know where he stood. He had few close friends, though he knew his true friends, the few people who saw his true self, would stand by him no matter what. The masses would shun him. Or worse, they would pity him. He would no longer be the suave rich boy, winning girls over wherever he went. But, he reminded himself, he wasn't interested in winning over the masses anyway. Not any more.

Though he was struggling to keep his head above water, both physically and emotionally, one thought remained a warm presence, a lifeline. She wouldn't care about the money. She never had, as she had reminded him after he had tried to win her over with it time and time again. But that didn't change the fact that she still hated him. She was too good for him and he would never deserve her. She was everything that he was not. In place of money she had love and friendship. Instead of popularity she had individuality. Instead of the mask of indifference that so many Chiltonites wore, she instead was vibrant and real. And he loved her for it.

It was amazing (though not surprising) to Tristin that in the midst of perhaps the most life altering event in his existence, he was still consumed with thoughts of Rory Gilmore. The girl who had done the impossible. The girl who had stolen his heart before he realized that it even existed.

"WELCOME TO STARS HOLLOW" stated the small neat sign by the side of the road. Tristin smiled resolutely. He could do this. Maybe it was time to start living his life in the real world.