Okay, I don't own anything to do with the perfection that is CM or any of its affiliations. I do, however, have the pleasure of owning my OC, Charlotte. Hope you enjoy the story - and have a great day!

Charlotte POV

I was surprised at how quickly I was able to empty my apartment, and find a fresh, new one in Virginia - I suspected a lot of it had to do with my new bodyguards, who I came to know as Ryan Ledger and Jacob Cade, which in my opinion sounds like the name of a super-villain in a Disney movie, but that might just be my childish streak shining through.

They had first struck me as those kinds of men who were sticklers for rules and regulations, however, that couldn't have been further from the truth. Cade looked like a big, old meanie on the outside, but on the inside, he was a gooey, adorable guy, who had nothing but my best interest at heart. He looked after me, more than anyone else had in my life - he always made sure I was eating right, and that my injuries weren't giving me too much grief. It was the little things that made all of the difference to me.

Ledger on the other hand was a fucking ball of sunshine - he was never in a bad mood, it was like he couldn't be. It was a lovely thing to see. However, he was a strange commodity, as he had two distinct personas, if you could call them that - one for work, and one for play, there was no in between.

When he was working, you could never see him sweat; he had a handle on everything - his poker-face was second to none, and he was serious about his job, however when he was ready to play, all Hell broke loose, and nobody was safe. He was the oldest of three children - all girls apparently, so there was the obvious protectiveness that exuded from his every pore, and honestly, I revelled in it. I liked being looked after; it was a welcomed change - not that I would tell them that anyway.

They helped me pack everything, from my baby photos to my letter of recommendation and even my college and university certificates that were hanging on the walls in my bedroom.

They offered up more than a helping hand, and I wouldn't have been able to do any of this without them. They both took the trips with me, back and forth between Virginia and New York, ordering around the delivery men in ways that I couldn't have ever imagined, and for the most part, I almost felt like they were acting as my big brothers - it was an endearing sentiment.

We had finally finished painting the walls of my living room a dull teal, which always had reminded me of the ocean, and was the final room I had to finish in my new house - notice I no longer live in an apartment, but a full-fledged home, with a garden and everything.

There were two bedrooms, one of which I converted into a study room, where I left my instruments and my videogames, along with my high school, college and university essays, and other miscellaneous shit I really didn't need but couldn't bear to give away. It had been painted a cream, and the carpet that had been fitted prior to my moving in here was a deep brown, and always felt sort of scratchy against my feet, so I knew I needed to change it for something more comfortable.

My bedroom was exactly how it had been back in New York, except it was just bigger in size, which meant more paint, and more carpet, and more money being spent.

Yay for moving.

Instead of the old Queen sized bed I had, I chose to go for a California King, deciding that the more space I took up, the less empty my house felt. The kitchen was, instead of entirely being chrome and metallic, was now made of an accumulations of different types of wood and gave off a bucolic, homely vibe. There was a long dining table, easily fitting 6 people, and made entirely of cherry wood, as was every other sideboard and cupboard in the kitchen, and shone seductively under the light that hung directly above it.

When I first moved it, it was a gaudy, ugly chandelier, and as soon as I laid eyes on it, I knew it had to go. The new one was a light frame made to look like silver vines, reaching out and blossoming into beautiful pearly white flowers - lilacs if I am not mistaken.

The living room was carpeted also, although Jacob held a strong grudge against it, saying that I would regret choosing it, although I think he was just upset that I didn't go with his idea of laminate flooring. I mean, it got cold in the winter. Just because there was a working fireplace directly to the right of the now perfectly placed, glass table, that I would use for my mugs of deliciousness aka coffee.

There was a wide-screen television, just like in New York, and a games centre beneath it, with a DVD and VHS combo, even though, honestly, who really used VHS nowadays? The bathroom back in NY was a pearly white and azure blue tiled combo, and I really did like it, they complimented each other well, however, I knew I needed a change.

The downstairs bathroom only held a pristine, white toilet, a sink and an oval mirror above it, while the walls had been painted a mushroom brown, which seemed to have some kind of rose undertone in it, whereas the upstairs bathroom was an amalgamation of pale pink, green, blue, purple and of course, white tiles, scattered, without any set pattern or order, and, immediately, I fell in love with it. Whoever lived here before hand did have good taste, in some respects.

The backyard had been the hardest part of the house to control, as the shrubbery seemed to have a mind of its own - I had to employ actual licensed gardeners to come down and tame the rows of foliage that had grown in the garden. They took almost a week to build the patio that I had wanted in place beneath by the back door.

They cut the grass down to a reasonable length, and the trees which had been left feral for years, had grown out to unimaginable lengths, but they had eventually controlled it, and I paid them handsomely for their services. It wasn't an outrageous price, as a matter of fact, I would have thought they would have charged more, but they hadn't.

I took my seat in the centre of the three seated sofa, which Ryan and Jacob on either side of me, with their overalls stained with different shades of brown, blue and blacks, and their hands red from all of the work they had but in. I looked up at both of them, and they smiled down at me, and I returned it, and sighed, "We did pretty good, didn't we, guys?"

They made sounds of agreement, and Ryan completely changed the subject with, "Wanna go get somethin' to eat?"

I nodded, and glanced at Jacob who relented, eventually. He hated fast food restaurants - he was a total health nut, the weirdo. Not that I wasn't about fitness, I mean, ever since Adams, I've been focussed on getting my body back to how it had been when I was 18. Damn, I was athletic back then. Always running about and not having to worry about what I was eating, because my metabolism would always burn shit off super fast.

Now, it's like, because I spent the last year either behind a desk or in hospital, I havent been able to get my blood pumping as often, and my body suffered. Don't get me wrong, I'm slim, yeah, for sure, but who wouldn't like to be a little more toned, or taut? Name one person who wouldn't like to better their body? See, not one. Everybody wants that deep inside. I'm not a bad person for seeking that kind of boost in my self-esteem.

I shake my head of these thoughts, noticing the dark turn they had taken, and instead I went about changing out of these dirty, 6 year old dungarees, that were far too tight and ratty to be considered even remotely acceptable, and into something more suitable for everyday-wear.

I stood up and rubbed my hands on my legs, trying to rub away the paint that marked my skin and said, "Be back in a bit, then we can leave out, okay, Ryan?"

He nodded, and picked up his car keys, probably to do the same as I am and get changed into something better. Jacob paused, and glanced at me, in my eyes, and seemed to stare directly into my soul. And then it was over. The intense staring and the meaningful stare, and he simply said, "We'll be in the spare room, Lottie."

I grimaced at the nickname, and he chuckled quietly to himself, knowing full well that I hated the name, and followed Ryan out of my house. I scrambled up the stairs, and into my bedroom, carefully opening up the newly constructed wardrobe, and skimming through my very clothes.

I wasn't going anywhere special, so I decided on a pair of Levi denim shorts and a black vest with the Jack Daniels logo plastered on the front, coupled with a pair of doily socks and maroon coloured dual-tongued Converse. I unclothed, and after I rolled on some deodorant, I dressed speedily, ready in just under 6 minutes. I padded across the hallway, into the bathroom, and brushed my teeth, while simultaneously combing through my locks with a brush I had left in the bathroom.

It was clear my hair wasn't co-operating today, so I plaited it into a French braid, and tied the end with a clear elastic hair-tie, and threw it off of one of my shoulders, whilst I eventually trapped stray hairs into place with nude coloured grips, and pinned them into my hair. After brushing on some mascara and a little bit of clear lip-gloss, and I was ready to go.

I sped down the stairs, and into the living room, only to find it empty, and the roaring of an engine sounding off outside. They were already in the car, waiting for me to come out, hollering about me being a 'typical woman'.

What sarcastic assholes.

Second chapter, because I'm feeling generous ;)