Disclaimer: I don't own the series Gilmore Girls or the original characters. All I own is my imagination and the plot.

A/N: Hey! :-) Well, there isn't a lot I wanna say right now, but be sure to read the A/N at the bottom when you have finished reading. I spent almost an entire week on this, so I do hope that you'll enjoy and appreciate it.

Bye, smile :-)

-x-x-x-

To those of us who know the pain

Of valentines that never came,

The world was younger than today

And dreams were all they gave for free

To ugly duckling girls like me

-x-x-x-

Rory looked at her reflection in the car mirror, dragging her eyes over her features in a leisurely pace. She was following a well known route, one she used to follow every day when she came home after school. She would start at her forehead and then slide down to her nose, before following the slightly curved lines of the bottom of her eyes until she had reached the corners of them, which continued her journey down her cheek and to her jaw line. She would always end her observation at the base of her neck, just like she did this time.

Her eyes lifted themselves up again and she dared to crack a smile. She smiled at her own appearance, pleased with it, something that happened rarely. With the contacts, that matched her eye color exactly, and the light make-up, she felt normal, like she would be able to fade away into the crowd of people she was about to collide with. That was all she had ever wanted. To be able to disappear into a large group of people without anyone noticing, without standing out from the rest.

Rory got out of the car and straightened her dress with one hand, while locking her car with the other. After dropping her keys into her purse, she started to head over to the church. She held her head high, showing confidence, although she lacked it. It always seemed to falter when she was around too many people. She had only agreed on coming, because Emily had wanted her to come and accompany her, since Richard had been to busy to join her and Lorelai had simply refused on going to this spectacle. Her bond with Emily had gotten worse throughout the years, especially after had Rory graduated from Yale. Like Lorelai had told her often, she was the glue that had kept her and her mom at a tolerable distance for all this time. And although Rory wasn't that fond of her grandmother either, she did adore her grandfather and that was why she had decided to come to this wedding. A wedding which was nothing but another social event. Parents brought their sons and daughters to impress others with and hoped that the next wedding would be theirs to arrange.

She continued her walk over to the large, white building swiftly, clasping her small purse tightly in her hands, knowing that she was a few minutes late. Something Emily would be sure to point out and Rory would brush off with a believable excuse.

Just like Rory had expected, her grandmother was waiting for her. She had discreetly moved to the far left side of the steps, so she wouldn't be in the way of other people as they passed. She looked as elegant as ever with her neatly groomed hair and outfit that matched up to her light pink nails and golden watch, which her eyes were fixed on.

''Grandma,'' Rory greeted, while coming to a halt directly in front of Emily.

Emily's head shot up to reveal her impatience. Her lips were forming a tight line, which caused for her professionally done make-up to crack for a brief second or two. ''You're late.''

Rory nodded. ''I know, and I'm sorry. I would have been here sooner, but there was a lot of traffic.''

Her grandmother, however, didn't seem to be paying attention to her words. Instead she let her eyes wander across Rory's body, carefully taking the time to rate her and calculate how she would do in this subtle competition of beauty and popularity. Something that reminded Rory of high school, a place she didn't like to think about or remember.

A smile broke through on Emily's face and she nodded approvingly at her classy off the shoulder dress. It was a mysterious shade of midnight blue. A perfect color, because it accentuated the lightness of her eyes and the soft pink of her lips.

''You look absolutely stunning. Wonderful dress,'' Emily complimented.

Rory smiled, appreciating the comment. ''Thank you. You look beautiful too, grandma.''

Her grandmother's smile widened at her granddaughter's remark. ''I do, don't I? I don't look old?''

Rory shook her head reassuringly. ''Not at all.''

''Good. Shall we go inside?''

Rory nodded and followed Emily up the steps and into the impressive structure, although the inside left her completely in awe with it's beautiful simplicity. White and soft shades of pink and purple seemed to be the colors of this particular wedding. From the white suits of the groomsmen up to the flowers that decorated the room, everything went perfectly together.

Emily lead her to one of the benches in the middle of the church, so they could sit down. Soon after, Emily started to chatter on about the beauty of the place and the families of the bride and groom, which eventually lead her to point out every single person she knew, which she seemed to take great pride in. As if knowing all these people took her popularity up a couple of notches. Each name was accompanied by an interesting piece of gossip, or so her grandmother thought. Nonetheless Rory listened, following her grandma's gaze with her own, she could put a face to the image Emily was describing.

''And those are Xander and Alice DuGrey. They have been married for almost 15 years, although not happily. Apparently Xander.....''

Rory's thoughts wandered off, trying to recall a certain memory that would help her place the familiarity of the name. She dug through her memory until she could feel the weight of her past on the tip of her tongue. Soon she could taste its bitterness on her lips. A taste which was soon mixed with the metallic flavor of blood. She had subconsciously sunk her teeth into her lower lip as soon as she realized to who that specific name was connected.

''And that, over there, is their son, Tr.....''

''Tristan DuGrey,'' Rory finished, as her eyes flew over to the boy whom's face she couldn't see, which she was grateful for, although she could remember it clearly. She had been haunted by his grey eyes for years in the form of nightmares and hurtful memories.

''Do you know him?'' Emily asked, curiosity evident in her voice.

Rory swallowed the large lump of panic that had formed in her throat, though small pieces still remained and would soon form another lump, just as big. ''I think I used to go to Chilton with him.''

''Are you two friends? Cause if you two are friends then maybe you would prefer to sit with him. There's still a spot left.''

''No,'' Rory said, while shaking her head more fiercely than she had intended. ''We're not friends.''

''Oh,'' was the last word that was exchanged between them before the music started to play, signaling the beginning of the ceremony. When people turned in their seats to look at the bride, Rory mimicked their movements, although she wasn't able to completely grasp the image in front of her. She was too occupied with the images in her mind. The one of her walking down the corridors of Chilton being the worst of them all, because she knew that he would be waiting for her at her locker. Alone. And when he was alone he would hurt her the most and call her his ugly little duckling. She never comprehended why he would call her his when she felt nothing for him but despise. But she had never dared to ask.

She had been too afraid of him to even utter a word without stuttering when he was around. And even though she had been so intimidated by him, she had always kept her head high in his presence, although her walls would break down as soon as she found herself alone, locked up in one of the stalls in the bathroom or in the back of the bus on her way home. She would cry fresh tears every day at his cruel comments and sickening smiles, which would appear whenever he was satisfied. Whenever he felt like he had tortured her enough for one day. His smiles were the only reason why she had never spilled a single tear in front of him. It would only add to his enjoyment and he didn't deserve that.

Rory turned back around in her seat, being one of the last people to do so. It took her even longer when she noticed his eyes on her. The feeling he brought upon her was still the same. She felt small, worthless in his eyes and blinking was the only thing she could do to keep from crying, while she lowered them down to her lap in one swift movement. She was showing her discomfort and hurt, something he would only feed on. She knew this from experience. It was ridiculous how her confidence had suddenly started to crumple and how her old insecurities had flooded over her all at once.

She reached for her bag and searched for her favorite pair of glasses, which she would carry with her everywhere, just in case her contacts would start to bother her. She had gotten contacts a few hours after graduating, hoping to leave her high school years in the past, together with the person she used to be. But, now, every time she looked in the mirror and saw her bare face, she sometimes still thought about those less fortunate years. And she thought about how she had been forced to change her image, because of him.

-x-x-x-

The reception was held at a luxurious hotel, one that would be to the satisfaction of all the guests. Five different cakes could be chosen from, each decorated with professional precision and a never-ending string of patience, by the looks of the small chocolate details and icing that followed the most complicated patterns. Wine and champagne was being served in beautiful crystal glasses, there was a live band playing and a glass chandelier was the centrepiece of the large room. People danced, talked and laughed, while Rory had just slipped back outside, excusing herself from her grandmother and her friends.

Although the interior of the hotel was impressive, to say the least, she was more interested in the garden, which could be entered on both the left and right side, just before you walked up the steps to the entrance of the hotel. However, those two entries were both the only two entries and exits of the garden, for the garden spun itself around the entire building, so you would be able to wander through it until you would finally exit through the opposite opening you had entered. Of course there was only one way to get from the right side of the garden to the left side. A way that was difficult to find since the garden had been designed to be an actual maze, each path separated by neatly trimmed hedges. Here and there fountains and small gardens had been placed to make the walk as pleasant as possible.

Rory appreciated the distraction the flowers and streaming water gave her, although she knew that she was in no hurry to escape the labyrinth of paths and dead-ends. She didn't mind getting lost in here, which she did, almost instantly.

She strayed aimlessly through the various passages and fewer openings in the hedges until she reached another one of the many gardens, which could only be entered and excited by one and the same opening in the hedges. She walked to the middle of the garden, her back facing the entrance, and looked at the beauty which could be seen in the white roses and fountain, which had roses carved into it. With a smile she turned around, planning to leave, but someone was blocking her only way out and the panic, a feeling she knew all too well, took over her. The way he stood there, with both of his hands in his pockets and his eyes partially hidden by his locks, made her take a step back.

''If it isn't my little ugly duckling.''

The way he said it, his superior tone and characteristic self-confidence, made her lower her eyes, as she tried not to let his words bruise her. She wasn't 16 anymore. She had grown, matured enough not to let his words affect her. But no matter how many times she told herself that words would never hurt her, she knew that that was a lie. It didn't make her feel better about herself and it didn't take away the feeling of defeat she was feeling right now. A feeling that brought tears to her eyes, although she did manage to keep herself from sobbing. Albeit he did hear how she was gasping for air, trying to keep her breathing at a normal pace. He took one step towards her, not more, as he let his eyes land on her lowered head and somewhat shaking figure.

''Are you crying?'' he asked, his superiority faltering for a reckless second.

Rory didn't say anything. Instead she wiped her tears away with the back of her hand, sternly telling herself that she had to seem stronger than him and had to hide her weakness until she was out of his perceptive sight. She just had to gather enough courage to walk passed him and leave him in the past, where he had been locked up for all of this time.

''Alls these years and you have nothing to say to me? No kiss to show me how much you've missed me?'' Tristan asked, while moving even closer to where she was standing, her dismay growing with every step he took. He chuckled when she remained silent.

''Still the same silent, duckling. Spineless. I thought you would have grown a backbone over the years.''

''Please just let me go,'' Rory whispered desperately.

Tristan took another step in her direction. ''You've gotta speak up, little mouse.''

''Let me pass, please?'' she asked, a little louder, urging herself to look up at him. He immediately locked eyes with her, silently making fun of her, before taking a step aside and gesturing towards the opening in the hedges.

''All you had to do was ask.''

Rory took in his laid back body language, unsure if she should trust him, but eventually she started to move towards the entrance, her escape, holding her breath until she passed him, thinking that she would be safe now. Safe to run. Of course she should have known better. Tristan always had more tricks up his sleeve.

When she had almost passed him completely, he reached out his hand and snatched her by her wrist, roughly pulling her towards him, turning her around to face him in the process. She gasped, both in fear and surprise, wanting to pull her arm back, but his grip remained firm and solid. His cold eyes froze her in place and she knew that he could see right through her. Her rapid breathing only confirmed that, going at the same pace as her panic-strucken heart. And when she looked up at him, there was no doubt in Rory's mind that he noticed all this too. But when he started to lean in, she knew that Tristan had mistaken her nervousness for something else.

His sudden change of heart left her in a temporarily daze of confusion, one that faded into the background briefly, when his lips lightly touched hers, giving her a butterfly kiss, before fully bringing his lips down upon hers, as if he had wanted to test the water before diving into it deeply. He had to be delirious for kissing her like this. She had to be delirious for letting him kiss her like this. But it still took her longer than she should have to react to his sensual movements and his hand, which he had placed on her hip. His other was still clasped around her wrist.

When he pulled her even closer, she moaned, which he thought was because of the pleasure she was getting out of this, when really it was a moan of protest. And when he removed his lips from hers and lowered them down to her neck, she grabbed the open opportunity he was giving her and started to back away from him, although she wasn't able to place that much distance between them, because he was still showing no sign of releasing her wrist.

''What are you doing?'' Rory asked.

Tristan met her eyes again and almost instantly let go of her wrist, as if he was realizing what he had done, or who he had just kissed. He brought his fingers up to his mouth, which Rory saw as a sign of regret and disgust. He caught her gaze and didn't do anything to prove the opposite to her, making her feel horrible. So horrible that tears sprang into her eyes again. Something Tristan noticed, before she turned around and fled from the garden, wanting to find her way out as quick as she could.

-x-x-x-

When Rory parked her car on the side of the street, it was still pouring. Rain was clattering against the windows and the sky was a dark shade of grey, making it seem night when it was still late in the afternoon. Although she didn't mind the weather. She preferred it above a cloudless sky any time, because it would make everything around her seem blurred and equal, until the rain stopped and clouds faded away. Everything would turn back to normal after that. Something she hated, because she didn't consider herself normal. She didn't look as normal as the rest of the people around her, who's natural beauty and cheerful faces made them normal in her eyes. Once upon a time she had been happy and cheerful, welcoming each day with open arms, but that was before she had met Tristan DuGrey. Before he had made her feel alienated. Before he had made her feel anything but normal.

She turned off the engine and just looked at the sky, darkened by heavy clouds that were threatening to spill. The closer she had gotten to home, the worse the weather had gotten. The storm had been announced yesterday evening, although she had known that it wouldn't have that much affect on the wedding. After all, everything had been celebrated inside. With a sigh, she grabbed her purse and keys and got out of the car. After locking her car, she hurried over to the building where she lived, on the fifth floor to be exact. The apartment wasn't that fancy or overly large, but she had bought it with her own money and it did have four separate rooms.

She took the elevator up to her floor, concentrating on the dripping of the drops of freshly fallen rain which could be blamed on her wet clothes and hair, to make the short trip up less wasteful. When the elevator came to a sudden halt with a loud ping, the doors slid open and she stepped into the corridor, knowing exactly how many steps it would take her to get from here to her apartment. She started to walk in the correct direction, while reaching into her purse for her keys, which she had thrown in there while she had been hurrying over to the building. When she found them, she wrapped her fingers protectively around them and lifted her head back up, looking directly at the door of her apartment, and the figure sitting on the floor in front of it.

She planned on silently sneaking back to the elevator and wait until he would get fed up with waiting for her, but she knew that she couldn't do that. She wouldn't let him scare her away from her own apartment. And he had already seen her.

''Tristan,'' she said, hesitating before continuing. ''What are you doing here?''

Tristan got up swiftly and retrieved a small piece of paper from his pocket, which he showed to her. ''Your grandma gave me your address. I told her we were friends.''

''Friends,'' Rory repeated unbelievingly.

Tristan smirked and took a step towards her. ''That was alright, wasn't it, ugly duckling? I mean, you left me with just a taste. And to be honest, I never expected someone like you to be such a good kisser.''

Rory dropped her keys, because the hand, which she still had hidden in her purse was shaking violently. As she tried to compose herself, she reached for her keys again, but collided with her pair of glasses instead. Before she knew what she had done, she could feel a stinging pain cut into her hand. She let out a whimper when she realized what she had done. Out of anger and pure dislike for the man standing across from her, she had wrapped her fingers around her glasses, tightening her grip until she had broken the glass, letting the shattered pieces cut into her hand. She whimpered again when she pulled out her hand, which was stained with blood, hiding the pieces of glass which were now stuck in her hand, although they did glimmer when she moved it.

Tristan expression turned worried when he noticed her injured hand. ''Are you alright?''

Rory shook her head, before meeting his eyes. ''My glasses.''

She looked at her hand again, intending on pulling out the small pieces of glass, but instead she cut herself in the haste of it. When she wanted to reach for the same piece of glass again, Tristan pushed her hand away and grabbed the wrist of her other with his left hand.

''Damn it, Rory,'' he silently cursed, words that were hardly audible to her.

She pulled her hand back quickly, causing her to cringe in pain.

''Where are your keys?'' Tristan asked, although he had already gotten a hold of her bag and was now going through it.

''What are you doing?'' she asked, as she watched him pull out her keys.

''Do you have tweezers in your apartment?''

Rory nodded.

''Then that's where I'm taking you,'' he answered, while he headed back to the door of her apartment.

''And then what?''

''Then, I'm going to help you,'' was his answer, which caught her off guard. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, glancing in her direction when he did. ''Are you coming?''

''I can help myself.''

''I told you to speak up,'' Tristan said, before entering her apartment, leaving Rory standing in the hallway, until she finally decided to follow him. As she turned around to close the door, she could hear him walk around the place, around her apartment. She felt uncomfortable having him here, especially after the kiss he had forced upon her. As if he thought that all could be forgiven with one single kiss. When she turned around, Tristan had entered the room again, holding her silver colored tweezers between his fingers.

''I found tweezers.''

''Were you in my bathroom?'' she asked.

But Tristan didn't answer her, instead he grabbed her by the arm, gently, and lead her to the kitchen. The first thing he did was grab a dishrag from the clean pile, which was still lying on top of the kitchen counter, and turn on the faucet. While he wetted the rag, he glanced over at Rory, who was still standing at the entrance of the kitchen.

''You'll make it easier for me if you would come over here.''

Rory nodded, but didn't move. Instead she watched the sureness of his simple movements, as if he had been in her apartment before and knew exactly where everything could be found. It was a scary thought. It was scary to think that he owned her apartment like he used to own Chilton.

Tristan sighed. ''Would you just come over here? Please?'' He held her gaze for a few seconds, before he lowered his eyes and patiently waited for her to walk over to him, which she did.

Without saying a word, he reached for her hand and locked his fingers tightly around her wrist, to keep her hand as steady as possible. As he started to bring the tweezers to Rory's cut hand, she followed his motion carefully.

''Tristan,'' she said, keeping her eyes focused on her hand. ''Could you please try not to hurt me this time?''

Although he didn't respond, he did loosen his grip a little and when he reached for the first piece of glass, she felt but a small twinge of pain when he pulled it out. It was a surprise, but also a relief to know that he could also be gentle when he wanted. Especially in this situation, where she was alone with him.

After pulling out every single bit of glass, he started to clean her hand as best as he could with water, since she had nothing else. Not even alcohol. Although the cuts weren't as deep as he thought they would be. Luckily for the both of them, the blood had made them seem much more threatening. He let go of her hand and started to rinse out the rag, while Rory examined her hand closely, observing each cut.

''You okay?'' Tristan asked, while turning off the faucet and looking at her.

''Yeah.'' She nodded. ''Thanks.''

Tristan shrugged. ''I kinda owed you. For, you know, what happened in the garden.'' And that was as far as his apology went, but Rory accepted it. She forgave him for that once mistake, but she still blamed him for making her feel horrible throughout her entire high school career. Waiting for her around every corner and torturing her with the hurtful names he had come up with for her. Ugly little duckling being the worst of them all.

He cleared his throat. ''I should go. I know when I'm not welcome.'' He brushed passed her and headed into the living room. Rory followed slower and caught him when he was already halfway to the door.

''You know why you're not welcome,'' she started, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. ''You tormented me day in and day out while we were in high school. You made my life there a living hell,'' she accused.

Her accusations were what made him turn around. They were what made him face her. Shame, although it couldn't be seen on his face, was occupying his mind. He looked at the girl who had never spoke more than a few words to him back when they still went to school together.

''Why?'' was her understandable question.

But how could he give her a reason when he had only discovered it himself, when it had already been too late to take back all of his words and when it had been too late to apologize. Rory would have accepted it, but only out of fear, not because she had really forgiven him.

He remembered the first few days of high school, when he had just observed her without making a move. She would always be so quiet and shy, never spoke up in class, never went to any of the Chilton parties. She became an outcast and that's when he knew that he wanted to talk to her. But the talking lead to nothing but hurtful comments that were always directed at her. She hadn't deserved them, but his role model was his father, a guy who taught him to be strong and that in order to live through high school you had to have all the power and control the weaker ones. And that was exactly what Tristan had done.

He had just wanted for Rory to grow some more confidence, so she could match up with him, because she had seemed so different than the other girls. More genuine, maybe. More real. More like an actual person, with feelings he could crush and would feel guilty about when he was lying on his bed, thinking about the day he had had. So, how could he tell her all that, when he knew that it was already too late. Too late to apologize. Too late to ask for forgiveness or understanding.

So, when Tristan opened his mouth to answer her, he closed it again within seconds. He owed her an explanation, but he he couldn't. Afraid that she wouldn't even bother to listen. Perhaps it was better this way. He had showed her a side of himself which no one hardly ever saw. And he had helped her today, although the name calling he had only done to let her in on a little secret. He had wanted her to be his the first time he had seen her and he still wanted her to be his. He wished that things would have been different between them and that he could make time run in the opposite direction, slowly retrieving pieces of his past, hoping to change them. Hoping to give her a more pleasant memory of him and his behavior towards her. But he knew he couldn't. So, he gave her all he could.

''I'm sorry.''

Rory nodded, biting her lip, because to her, it seemed as if he was simply refusing to let go of his pride and apologize. To her he seemed like the same person she had left behind after graduation. It seemed as if he hadn't changed, at all.

''Please leave.''

Tristan nodded and for once didn't say anything. He quietly opened the door and threw a quick last glance over his shoulder, before stepping into the hallway and closing it behind him. He slowly removed his hand from the doorknob, as if he didn't want to leave things like this, unresolved. But the roles had changed. Maybe he used to be everything in high school, but right now he felt worthless. He now knew what it felt like to be in her shoes for the slightest of seconds and he now realized how harsh he had been, how crudely he had treated her.

''You're beautiful,'' he whispered, before slipping his hands into his pockets and heading for the elevator.

Meanwhile, the words reached Rory's ears, even though they were muffled by the thick wood of the door. His simple words brought tears to her eyes, because she knew that she had found her apology and that maybe he hadn't changed completely yet, but he was trying as hard as he could, because he was getting sick of the ghosts that would haunt him at night.

Rory reached for the door and opened it, not bothering to wipe away the tears. But when she heard the doors of the elevator close, she knew that she was too late. He was already gone. But at least they would both be able to sleep tonight.

-x-x-x-

REVIEW! Please? :-) I know that it's not exactly a 'and they lived happily after' kinda one parter, but in my eyes it does work and I am satisfied with the result. Of course, it could have been better written, better worked out, I could have cut back on the descriptions, but I like it like this, so..... What's done is done, right? And you don't have to like it. You just get to read and judge it. So, thanks for that. :-) and I'll try to update my new Trory 'Torn' this weekend.