Her head banged sharply against the murky window as the bus came to an abrupt halt. Rogue groaned and opened her eyes groggily, adjusting her eyes to the early morning sun glaring through the glass.

"Last stop, New Orleans" The bus driver called from the front of the vehicle.

A few people that had got on at various other stops throughout the journey, started to move about and made their way gradually off the bus.

Rogue sighed tiredly. She had only managed to get a few hours of uncomfortable sleep and she was now feeling very irritable. After a few more minutes contemplation, she mustered the strength to pull herself out of her seat and got off the bus to retrieve her bag from where it would be unloaded off the rusty old Greyhound. The already bright sun and rising humidity was disorientating to say the least.

"Here's your bag miss" the bus drivers voice sounded from beside her causing her to jump uncharacteristically in surprise.

"Thanks" she mumbled as the bus driver handed her the bag. Taking in her surroundings of the long concrete bus station, Rogue realized for the first time that she hadn't a clue as to what she was going to do. Leaving home had been one idea, taking every dollar to her name was another - but what she was going to do now was something she hadn't thought about.

She berated herself silently for the her obvious disorganization and looked around for some sort of inspiration. Nothing came to her.

"Excuse meh, Suh" she approached the bus driver again who was still unloading bags.

"Ya couldn't tell meh the tahme?" He stood and faced her, glancing at the black strapped watch on his wrist.

"'Bout nine. If your looking for the French Quarter you gotta head down Julia Street here, till ya hit St Charles and you gotta turn left. That'll lead you straight to where you wanna be. Good luck miss" He continued ominously, before winking and turning away from her back to his previous task.

Rogue, a little taken back by the unrequested information, glanced around the bus station and with one last sigh headed in the direction the bus driver had told her to go for the French Quarter.

After eventually finding her way into the bustling and lively streets of New Orleans infamous Vieux Carre, Rogue managed to find a hostel that she could stay at for a few nights. She was now standing at the end of Dauphine Street. Her stomach growled hungrily as she spotted an outdoor café a few shops from her. Rogue dug her hand into her pocket and felt around for some money. Pulling out a worn looking ten dollar bill.

'Great, ah've only just left and ah'm already runnin' out of money.'

But at her stomachs request, she made her way over to the café and sat down.

After finishing her coffee and beignet, Rogue sat back and watched the steadily building throngs of people, that were obviously not uncommon here. She hated crowds, not because they were a nuisance but just because she never felt overly comfortable with being in close contact with other people. Rogue had always felt like that, ever since she was a child - the further people stayed away, the more comfortable she was.

'What am ah gonna do now?' she thought tiredly.

Her day had mostly been spent wandering around her new surroundings thinking about what was going to happen next. But unavoidably, her mind kept reverting back to what would be happening at home. Was her mother worried? How was Kurt taking her leaving? - She hadn't even left a note.

A deep sense of guilt traveled through her. How could she feel like this now?. There were just too many questions and Rogue couldn't answer them. Her train of thought was cut short when there was the sound of a plate smashing against a wall and the angry voice of a man telling someone to get out from the inside of the café.

Not long after, the waitress that had served Rogue earlier, stormed out of the door followed by the still yelling man telling her to never come back if she knew what was good for her.

Rogue watched the now obviously, ex-waitress disappear out of sight and turned her attention to the seething café owner who was muttering something about untrustworthy staff and till pickers. He grumbled angrily and walked back inside.

Without a second thought, Rogue jumped out of her seat and followed the man into the café and over to the counter. The man didn't noticed her while he started to clean up the smashed plate from the floor with a dustpan and bush, until she coughed quietly into her hand. His head shot up to look at the person who had disturbed his silent ranting.

"What?" he demanded angrily.

"Ah was just wonderin' if ya needed any help around . . ."

"Look, I got help. Believe me, I don't need anymore" the man shot back before Rogue could finish. She instantly set her face into one of her glares and placed one of her hands on her hip.

"Well ah couldn't help but notice that yoah one waitress short" She replied strangely calm, but none the less determined. The man stood up and sighed. Pouring the broken china into a trash can behind the counter.

"What do you want kid?" he asked resignedly.

"A job"

"Can you wait tables?"

"Ah can do it". He sighed again and then held out his hand.

"Harry" He introduced himself. Rogue took his hand and shook it lightly.

"Rogue and ah'm not a kid" She replied curtly. Harry let go of her hand and looked at her strangely.

"Strange name" he muttered quietly while taking a mug and placing it under a coffee machine.

"So?" Rogue retaliated sharply. Harry snapped back at her, pointing his finger blatantly at her and then the door.

"Hey, don't start getting mouthy. You can start tomorrow morning". Before returning to his coffee machine. Rogue smiled and walked towards the exit of Harry's Hideaway. Things looked like they were going to be alright.