Disclaimer: Hmm…let me think, still not mine. I'm just playing w/ the characters. I promise to give them back eventually.

A/N: Okay this is going to be long. 1st thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed my stories, you guys are the cat's pajamas (sorry I just read a book w/ that in it, lol). This is the story that comes are Fairy Tales & Castles please read that first. It's darker and deals more w/ Tristan but don't worry there will be comedy too. It takes place senior year 2nd semester. Each chapter will be a song title and feature a quote from that song. If you want to suggest any songs w/ awesome lyrics please do. The title of this story is from a Dashboard Confessional song.

A/N 2: Okay this deals w/ feedback. We all know how much a adore it, but among the wonderful reviews I got for "There May Be Something There..." I did also get 2 flames (they have been removed), they did upset me. Please use the Golden Rule, if you don't have anything nice to say don't say anything at all. Constructive criticism is welcome, but make sure it is constructive okay? I'm sensitive to that. Yay! I'm done now you may read my new saga, let me know how it is!

The Best Deceptions

Chapter One: This Is My December

"This is my December/This my snow covered home/This my December/This is me alone/And I just wish I didn't feel like there was something I missed/And I'd take back all the things I said to you/ And give it all away/Just to have somewhere to go/ Give it all away/Just to have someone to come home to."~Linkin Park

          Tristan DuGrey was afraid, not that he would ever admit it to anyone, least of all his father. As he sat on the plane with his headphones blasting the movie of the week, he was trying to drown out the thoughts that plagued him as he headed home. Of course it was useless his fears were all real and the reality of being on this plane going back to his house only proved that to him. Military school was an escape, not a great escape, but an escape nonetheless.

          He didn't like it there, and he never would under any circumstances. He didn't enjoy being yelled at constantly and their constant attempts at discipline, the running for no purpose and the lovely task of cleaning a bathroom being shared by 20 other guys. This experience did not turn out to be some touchy feely, now I've grown so much and I'm a changed and now well-adjusted kind of thing. Ha! As if that would ever happen. He was fundamentally fucked up. Screwed up in so many ways, a tangled web of confusion, hate, anger, envy, hurt and fear.

          It was the fear that woke him up in the middle of the night. Fear that made bile rise up in his throat and his mind go blank. Fear…sometimes, he thought, that was all that was left of him. No shrink in the world could unravel the mess that was his life. And even is somehow they could, he wasn't sure if he would want them to. This was all he had even known. And secretly he wasn't sure if he could function any other way.

          Rory Gilmore woke up her stomach churning with butterflies; it was almost the end of Winter break. It was the end of her senior year; she couldn't believe it was almost all over. All her hard work and sacrifices had gone towards this one goal, Harvard. She would find out soon whether or not the dream would come true. And she was afraid, more accurately, she was terrified. This one decision, one letter, one word had the ability to alter her life forever. And so much in her life had been radically changed already. Something things for better and some—for worse. And once again just like this past summer, she sensed the change in the air.

          Tristan got off the plane and stretched his long legs and cramped muscles. He walked through the gate and was shocked to find his father standing there waiting for him. He had expected either to take a cab to his home or for the families' driver to pick him up. But no, there was his father looking as uncomfortable, severe and as disappointed as usual. Seeing him did not raise any feelings of fondness, even though Tristan had not seen him since the night he first left for Military school. The only emotions that arose were those of distaste, anger and that fear…fear which had never really left.

          "Tristan." His father said curtly as he observed his son nearing towards him.

          "Father." Tristan responded in the same tone, his muscles already clenched in anger he could not manage to suppress.

          He claimed his luggage; there really wasn't much of it. So left driving home in that stone cold silence. They arrived at their home, more of an estate that had been in their family for generations. It was on old stone building with that stately manor that was easily identifiable in the New England area. It was beautiful outside but empty inside. Tristan thought it aptly represented the people who lived there. Beautiful yet empty.

          He walked in the foyer, and as he expected nothing had really changed. He hung his jacket up in the closet and put his bags down knowing one of the servants would carry them to his room later. For now he had to follow his father into the study, and maybe finally the reasoning behind his departure from military school would be explained. He waited until his father was seated behind the large oak desk, and then took a seat on the other side. Waiting for the proverbial sword to come crashing down…and it did.

          Alexander DuGrey cleared his throat, trying to think of the best way to tell his son the news. But when no ideas came to him he decided just to tell him straight out.

          "Tristan, your Grandfather passed away three days ago. The services will be held two days from now."

          He couldn't even describe how he felt when he heard that. All the breath left his body, like he had just taken a direct hit to his solar plexus. He felt lightheaded as all the blood left his head. He felt as if he was frozen in place, he couldn't form a coherent thought. The only thing he could think of was NO!

          His father remained stoic as he watched his son's face drain of color and his ragged breathing increase as the news began to process. He offered no comfort, he didn't know how. He got up quietly and said as he exited "The services will be held tomorrow. You're…you're grandfather wanted you to give the eulogy." He paused awkwardly wondering if there was anything else he should say. But nothing came to mind, and he was already craving another drink. So he just left the study—and his son.

          Tristan wasn't sure how long he sat there, trying to absorb the information presented to him so coldly. He wasn't aware of anything until a hand upon his shoulder startled him. It was his mother.

          "Baby, I'm so sorry." Janette DuGrey as she squeezed her son's shoulder again, attempting to give him some measure of comfort. She wasn't sure if he would even accept a hug from her.

          He turned to look at his mother, she looked as poised and perfect as ever. That is except for the redness around her eyes that even the best make up couldn't conceal. He knew that she had loved her father very much even though as the years went by the distance between them had grown to form this chasm.

          She cleared her throat again trying to not cry, "One of his last requests was that you return to Chilton to finish out the rest of the year. Your father didn't and well—still doesn't agree but your grandfather and I pushed and since the money is coming from the trust fund your grandfather left you, your father has no choice." She ended with a small smile gracing her lips as she thought of a battle she had finally won.

          Tristan's mind was so boggled with everything he didn't even have the energy to process how he felt about going back to Chilton. It was all too much. He just nodded halfheartedly to his mother, and as an afterthought gave her a kiss on the cheek as he left the study.

          He went up to his room. His bags had already been unpacked for him. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and an old shirt that was torn at the shoulder. The pain was starting to come in waves; suddenly remembering he dug into the back of his closet and found something he had stored there long ago. He smiled and took his first shot of Bacardi and kept taking them until he didn't feel anything at all. Oblivion overtook him.

I am shocked and appalled there is no longer a button, you have options now. I'd go w/ submit a review if I were you, lol. Just a suggestion—no pressure. Let me know how I'm doing w/ this new story! Thank you  ;)