Disclaimer: Even though I wish I did own The OC, and more importantly Adam Brody, I do not. I only own the plot, which is more romantically dramatic than you'd ever imagine in your wildest dreams. Okay, not really, but you get my point…it's pretty crazy. I don't even exactly own the main character of this fanfic, who is imagined to look like Sophia Bush, from The OC's rival One Tree Hill.

A/N: I hope you enjoy this story, 'cause I've been plotting this out for the past 5 months, and now, of all times, have finally gathered up the courage to turn it into a fanfic. By the way, the setting takes place sometime in the summer, after the Season 2 finale. Let's just pretend the thing with Trey didn't happen, 'cause it would just kill my plot.

Well, here's Chapter One.

Chapter One

I guess you could call me a hopeless, modern day princess looking desperately for her Prince Charming. I'd never had the greatest luck with guys – romantically - at least. I probably had more male friends than I had female friends, which was probably hard to believe, according to my family life. I was a spoiled eighteen-year-old, living with my older brother Josh, and my rich, jerk-of-a-father in New York City, just south of Times Square. My mother had died was I was young, only about 7, maybe 8. I never really talked about it; considering it was an uncomfortable subject in my position. My brother had moved in with his girlfriend, Adelle (who was probably the nicest, sweetest girl you'd ever meet) just before the past school year ended, and they shared an apartment down in Soho. I spent a couple of months living with my dad, but he was always out on business, or with his new wife, Renee and her two, perfect, well-mannered blonde twins Michael and Michelle. They were my age, and that probably bugged me the most. Somehow, I felt there was a sort of power struggle between me and the twins, competing for my father's affection. After about two weeks, I couldn't take it anymore. I called up my favorite Aunt and Uncle, and explained the whole thing to them. My Uncle Joey was my mother's brother, but I rarely got to see him because my father wasn't very fond of him, and he lived all the way in California. As soon as he talked it over with Aunt Jennine, they suggested I'd come live with them, over in California. I told my dad one night when Renee, Michael and Michelle weren't home, and after a huge argument and a lot of yelling, he agreed. Well, he didn't really agree, but when I started to pack my bags, and bought a ticket to take me to Orange County, he didn't try to stop me. He knew I was too strong-willed to change my mind. So, about a week later, I had readily packed my bags, and said a short good-bye to my father, my stepmother, and finally Michael and Michelle. I hailed a taxi, and headed for the airport, very excited about starting over in a brand new city.

The flight from New York City all the way to Orange County was very long (and boring). I'd been sitting on that damn airplane for now almost four-and-a-half hours, flipping through a pile of Teen People and CosmoGirl magazines, just waiting for what seemed like an eternity until we landed. I had fallen asleep not too long ago, and had been woken up by an annoying voice in the speakers overhead that reassured me that we'd be landing in a mere 15 minutes.

I opened my eyes, yelping as sunlight from the window next to me streamed into the plane, practically burning my eyeballs. Thankfully, I didn't suffer any injuries, except for a minor headache that lasted only a few seconds. After blinking a couple of times, I looked sleepily down at the mass of magazines on my lap, before leaning forward to pick up my over-sized Louis Vuitton purse, and shoving the magazines inside the deep pocket. I smiled with satisfaction, before dropping my handbag by my feet, and giving it a quick shove so that it was hidden underneath the seat in front of me.

I felt the air pressure drop as the plane dove with swan-like grace towards land, zipping past fluffy, snow white clouds before finally revealing sandy beaches, multi-million dollar homes - Orange County, and all the rest of its glory.

"Land!" I cried finally, waltzing joyously out of the terminal, and out towards the baggage claim area, but not before checking that my low-rising, flared stonewashed jeans hung off of my hips just so, that the shoelaces of my grass-green Converse high-tops were tied, and that my matching green halter top looked perfectly pressed. I smiled, and adjusted the straps to my purse, before quickly continuing on my way.

When I made it there, my uncle was there of course, waiting to greet me. My smile broke out into a huge grin, and I let out a squeal of excitement. I was finally here, and it was really hard to believe.

"UNCLE JOEY!" I exclaimed, running towards him like a little girl, and hugging him tightly. He had always been my favorite uncle; he always knew what I wanted for my birthday, or even for Christmas, and I didn't even have to tell him.

"Hey Rachel, how was your flight?" He asked, smiling and hugging me back.

"It was really long and boring, and the people sitting next to me were super annoying – not to mention loud." I said, grimacing a little, and Uncle Joey laughed at the expression on my face. I stepped back, the grin still plastered to my face, and watched the conveyor belt, looking for my luggage. It wasn't long before I spotted all 7 of my suitcases, and Uncle Joey helped me pick them up and put them on one of those funny-looking luggage carts. We pushed the carts out towards the exit of the airport, and when we got outside, Uncle Joey ran to get his car, a beautiful white-gold Nissan Pathfinder. We put the luggage in the back of the car, and I hopped into the front passenger seat.

"So how's Charlie?" I asked, once we sped off towards the highway, followed by a bunch of twists and turns in the road.

Uncle Joey chuckled. "He was sleeping when I left, but he knows you're coming, so I'm sure he'll be up by the time we get there." He answered, glancing over very quickly at me, before turning back to the road, and making another turn onto another highway that lead almost directly to Newport.

"And Aunt Jennine?" I inquired, running a hand through my dark, chocolate brown hair, and staring vainly at my hazel-eyed reflection in the mirror.

"She's doing pretty well. She's working as a makeup artist for one of those teen soap-operas now, did you know?"

I gasped. "Oh my gosh. You're kidding! Which one? I watch like, all of them." I smiled, my eyes lighting up with enthusiasm.

"I'm not sure, really. Just knew you'd be excited." He laughed, but this time didn't look over at me. We pulled into Newport a while later, driving leisurely down a couple of beach-side streets, before turning a corner onto a street with absolutely massive, gorgeous houses. He pointed to one, a beige-toned house with a cobblestone driveway that winded off into a small walkway, lined with flowers of beautiful, almost shockingly bright colors, and a freshly cut, perfectly manicured lawn. A few small lanterns decorated the front garden, supposedly lighting the way to the front door at night.

"I love this house!" I exclaimed. I hadn't been here since I was about 6, my Aunt and Uncle always had come to visit me in New York. When the car came to a stop and the engine was shut off, I unbuckled my seat belt, and opened the car door, rushing to the front of the house like a little girl on Christmas morning. I probably looked like a major dork to the neighbors, but I didn't care, I was far too excited. The door swung open, and my Aunt Jennine was there, smiling widely.

"Rachel! My goodness…you're so tall now!" She said, and stepped aside as Charlie rushed out the door, practically pouncing on me, and barking excitedly the entire time.

"Aunt Jennine!" I said, kneeling down, gently petting Charlie my favorite golden retriever in the entire world, his tail wagging frantically. "Hello puppy!" I said in a babyish kind of voice, before standing up, and rushing towards my Aunt to give her a tight, thank-you-so-much kind of hug. "How are you?"

"Wonderful, and you? C'mon in, you must be so tired from that flight." She said, ushering me inside, and Charlie simply followed, his backside swaying lazily, his tail still wagging eagerly before he turned a corner into the living room, and flopped down onto the carpeted floor, attempting to fall asleep. That's what I remembered the most about Charlie – he was possibly the laziest dog you'd ever meet.

Uncle Joey took all of my luggage to my "room" – I was staying in one of the three guest rooms, but they had told me that I was welcome to give the room a makeover, and make it feel like home. The room was beautiful all on its own – there was a vanity desk waiting there for me, directly across from a white canopy bed. The bed had a perfect, fluffy white duvet comforter, white sheets and pillowcases, and the sheer material used as a canopy for my bed reminded me somewhat of gossamer fabric, which was very calming and dream-like.

A vanity desk was set up directly across the room from the bed, stained a creamy, milky white of course, with a large mirror behind it, and a small chandelier hanging from the ceiling and lighting up the area. My luggage was piled in an empty corner of the room, across from the dresser on the opposite side of the room that matched perfectly with my vanity desk.

There was a large window, curtained with the same material used for the canopy over the bed, with opening doors so you could walk out onto a mini-balcony and take in the beautiful scenery.

On the other side of the large room was a massive ensuite bathroom, and next to the bathroom was a huge walk-in closet, perfect for keeping all of my clothes and the numerous pairs of shoes I had brought with me. The room was painted a light, powder blue, and trimmed with a white wooden border, matching the door. I smiled to myself and flopped down lazily onto the bed, looking over at the only item I had already unpacked; my white-and-pink toy pony. She had a pure white, plastic coat, and a soft pink mane. Three, tiny red hearts were imprinted on her left hip, thus granting her the name Princess Passion. I got her for Christmas, nearly 12 years ago, and even after all that time, she's the most reliable friend a girl could have.

I stood up, sighing cheerfully, and made a desperate, rather futile attempt to unpack before Aunt Jennine called me for dinner.

A/N: Yeah. Basically, this chapter was just an introductory, so that you understand Rachel's family history. Don't worry, she'll meet one of the original characters in the next chapter, I promise. But I'm not telling who. :)