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(7 P.M. - Town house.)

"Hey, doll." Robbie said to Lauren as he trotted down the stairs, loosening his tie. Lauren sat in the main entrance living room, curled in a big, elegant overstuffed chair, wrapped in a big black sweater. A roaring fire was casting the shadows into the far corners and crevics.

Lauren came out of her thinking state, and looked up. "Hey, dahlin. What's up?"

"Not much. I am just so glad I don't have any work that needs my attention right now." Robbie looked down at his watch. "Actually, I have a date in an hour." He grinned as he walked across the hardwood floor into the informal living rooming, his socked feet making light padding noises.

Lauren laughed, and turned in her chair to look at him in the next room across the foyer. "Oh, really? With that one from last time? What's his name... Davis? The dancer?"

Robbie came back in, carrying his tie in his hand. "Yes, the dancer. Quite a catch, I think." He winked as he began heading upstairs.

"Well, if he liked my type, I'd take a poke at him!" Lauren yelled after him.

"Ha ha!" Robbie yelled back as he closed the bathroom door.

Smiling, she looked into the fire, cozying deeper into sweater and wrapping her arms around herself. She wondered if Trent was thinking about her, about this afternoon, like she was.

Her smile grew into a wide grin. That afternoon had been slow, almost too slow, until Trent walked in. And how unexpected that was. Way, very unexpected.

Raising an eyebrow, she remembered what he had come in the store for: A traveling book for Zeek. 'Well,' She thought, grinning to herself. 'We'll see.' Lauren picked up the phone and called Felice. She answered on the third ring.

"Felice, you will never guess who showed up at the store... again."

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Author's Note:

I might screw this chapter up on the places and times. I think I might have mentioned the place the band was playing or something earlier... but I'm way too lazy to go back and check. So if you notice a difference... ignore it because you love me. Thanks for reading!

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(7:00 - Town House.)



Lauren set her keys on the shiny cherry-finished table by the door and looked up into the sterling-silver framed mirror above it. Her cheeks were cherry red as patted them to get feeling back into them. Unwrapping the snowy white scarf from around her neck and pulling the matching beanie off of her dark brown hair, she sighed. She listened to the wind howling against the door and cursed winter again. She hated cold weather.



Unzipping the baby blue fleece jacket and throwing it onto the ornate chair in the corner next ot the door, she reached over to check her messages and then continued pulling sweaters off.

"Hey Lauren, it's Felice. You better be coming tonight, I'm sure Trent wants to see you after what happened... Wink. You remember the show right? It's at the Fox down on 32nd street (A/N: Making places up as I go along...) at 7:30 tonight. Try and get there early, okay? Aiden and I are heading there around 6:45 to check up with the band. Another full house, I hear! See you tonight, love ya'."



Smiling, Lauren looked at the clock on the far wall and then raced up the stairs. Twenty minutes... What to wear?

Finally getting to her bedroom, she tread across the hardwood floor, her pointy black heels making neat clicks against it. Throwing the doors to her walk in closet open, she began pulling clothes out. Trent would probably be more closed off after last night, considering the type of guy he was, she thought, so I have to look extra hot just to keep him... interested? He better be interested...

Rolling her eyes, she picked up a silky, flowy red shirt. She threw it back on the bed. Winter, winter, winter... have to dress for the weather. Lauren cursed under her breath and stormed back into her closet. She pulled out a tiny, tan wool jacket with big, round brown buttons she had gotten at some strange store in San Fransisco for an absurd amount of money. Over coat. She walked back into the closet, muttering under her breath about Trent.

She searched through the racks of clothes, wondering what kind of clothes Trent would prefer to see her in. She rolled her eyes again, a huge roll that hurt her eyes. Laughing out loud, Lauren pulled out a gray American Eagle shirt with green lining, a black leather belt, and low rise, extra long jeans and tan Roxy shoes with a red stripe.

Trying to keep her mind off of Trent and how stupid she thought she was for caring about what he thought, Lauren dressed quickly. Rushing down the wooden stairs into the bathroom, she grabbed a spritz bottle out of the medicine cabinet and sprayed at her dark tresses while she continued to search for mascara. Running her hands through her hair to give it a messy, spiky look, she finally found the mascara and pulled it out... and knocked out about several other bottles of junk.

Groaning, she hurriedly put them all back and applied mascara and then some clear gloss and blush. Grabbing her wool jacket she had thrown on the stairs, she rushed down the stairs and into the hallway to grab her wallet and keys. Looking at the clock, she moaned. How the hell was it 7:45 already? Rolling her eyes for the infinite time, she wrote a quick note to Robbie and left.

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