Disclaimer: I do not own anything.

A/N: Sorry this chapter is so short. There wasn't really that much I could say about it. In fact I hate this chapter, but I had to have it.

Makeover

I was released from the hospital a week after I woke up. My mother had been released two days before and she was there to help me out to the car. The police Officer, Officer Mitchell, met my family at our house.

"Son, you will be leaving for Eden Hall the day after tomorrow." Officer Mitchell told my family and I. "Everything has already been set up for you. You will be rooming with a young man by the name of Rick Riley. His father is on the board of trustee's at the school. He will help you get acclimated to life in the United States."

"I'm sure." I commented. I was an only child and had always had my own room. I wasn't sure how well this was going to work out for me.

"You'll see. It will be great." he patted me on the back.

"Whatever you say."

"You need to do all your packing tonight and tomorrow we are going to give you a make over and an alias."

"Whatever." I told him as I headed upstairs. I better be the one who gets to pick the name out. I don't want to be stuck with something stupid.

That night, I did as he asked me to and I packed all of my belongings. Officer Mitchell showed up at our house early the next morning.

"Are you ready to be made over?" he asked me.

"I guess so." I answered. He led me out to his car and we drove away together.

We arrived at the beauty salon a few minutes later and I was taken straight back. "We want to make him look unrecognizable." the officer spoke for me.

"Alright," the lady replied. "Then I suggest we start with a hair cut."

"Can't we leave it long?" I asked. I didn't want to be stuck with short hair.

"How about we take half of it off. It will still be almost down to your ears." the woman suggested.

"I really don't want to mess with it." I told her.

The officer leaned closer to me. "Would you rather this psycho be able to recognize you and then blow your head off."

I smiled. "Can I get the scissors for you?"

I sat still with my eyes closed as the woman snipped at my hair. When I heard her say she was finished with the haircut I was so nervous that I could barely look. I opened my eyes and the first thing I saw was the floor. I nearly cried when I saw all of my hair lying on the floor. I looked up and in the mirror to see that the haircut looked awful, at least in my opinion.

"What now?" I asked a little frustrated.

"We are going to put some color on your hair?" The lady answered my question.

"What?" I nearly screamed.

"What color would you like, blonde, red?" the lady asked me.

I would prefer it to stay the same color that it already is. "Isn't there a darker shade of brown?"

"I think that a darker brown would suit you." The lady told me and as she brought the hair dye over to me and started applying it. An hour later the woman told me that my hair was finished and I could look at it.

I looked in the mirror and actually smiled at what I saw. The haircut actually looked good now that my hair was a different color. "It looks nice is there anything else?"

"Your eyebrows need to be plucked, and you could use a manicure and a pedicure." the officer told me. "Then you shouldn't be recognizable."

"Why don't I just go ahead and have a face lift?"

"Are you back talking me son?" Officer Mitchell asked me.

I sighed. "No sir."

I ended up enduring all of the work that was suggested and he was right, I looked completely different. I left the salon with the officer and he took me to the court house. "What are we doing here?"

"I told you, we need to get your name changed."

"Can I at least pick out the name?" I asked.

"Do you have something in mind?" Officer Mitchell asked me.

"Actually I do." I told him. "I was thinking about it a lot last night."

"Well what is it?"

"I like the name Scott." I told him. "Scott Vanderbilt."

"Fine. Scott it is." The officer announced. He worked everything out for me and my name was officially changed. "Now when you get to America you are going to tell them what?"

"My name is Scott Vanderbilt. I am from Orange County California. My father is a lawyer and my mother is a teacher."

"Very good. There's only one more thing son."

"What's that?" I asked.

"Dump the accent." he told me.

He took me home and my mother raved about how handsome I looked. My father told me that I wasn't going to be able to keep the girls off of me when I get to America. Officer Mitchell wished us good night and told me he would be here to pick me up in the morning to take me to the airport. Only twelve hours until I am a new man completely.

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