Breaking All The Rules

Change your name

Pierce your face

Run away

Get lewd

Sleep till noon

New tattoo

Car engines roaring, reckless feet shuffling, and waves of laughter tiding over the stillness of the night was all Padme could hear from her bedroom. She groaned as she pulled herself out of bed, yearning for some shut-eye. A good night's sleep was hard to come by ever since she moved to this town.

Tatooine was a town that couldn't quite make up its mind about what it was, a desolate hub of empty pockets––unless you can be bought and are willing to sell your soul––a chaotic free-for-all where everyone scuffles through the corruption, and then there's the noble paycheck to paycheck community, who turned a blind eye to the happenings of the crooks operating under the guise of making a living.

But... she's only been here a few days and the rural areas were nice. She was quite fond of her suburban apartment complex... Well, until the ruckus hindered her sleep. After peaking through the window to spot the culprits, she slid into her fluffy slippers and trotted downstairs.

She crossed the road to where all the cars – some pretty swanky cars – and young men had congregated in a sandy car park-like area. The boys looked from anywhere between 18 to 22 years old.

She folded her arms and repeatedly tapped her foot. "Excuse me!"

Three of them turned around at her request. One wore a giant green bucket hat way too big for his head, the other brushed the sweat off his forehead, pushing his straight black hair strands to the side, and the final member of the gang who was sitting on top of a convertible car door glanced behind him to catch a glimpse of their visitor. He had dirty-blonde hair, mussed from the wind, azure blue eyes, and a cigarette hanging off the corner of his mouth. He seemed out of place in a town like this, looking like a young Marlon Brando... but with worn-out jeans and a white t-shirt in dire need of a wash.

She might have admired his appearance a little more if he wasn't responsible for keeping her up all night (and not in a good way). Remaining five feet away, she was about to pop off and give them all a good talking to but she was silenced by a whistle.

The whistle came from the other end of their sandy playground. This guy looked a couple of years older than the others, sporting a leather jacket and an awful, gaudy ring on his pinky finger. He also had goggles on top of his head – perhaps a stylistic choice, she wondered. Whatever the case, he was making her uncomfortable.

"I'm going in." Sebulba straightened his leather jacket, heading towards her.

The Marlon Brando lookalike swiveled his body round to step off the car. "No." He put out his cigarette on the ground and pushed past Sebulba.

"Anakin, come on." A competitive Sebulba sneered. "We'll flip for her."

Anakin reached into his pocket, not taking his eyes off Padme and slapped a coin onto Sebulba's chest. "Here's a quarter. Take a hike."

Anakin wasn't very subtle as he eyed her from head to toe. She was a vision in a strappy ivory slip dress that loosely hugged her curves and pink fluffy slippers. Her bed hair, tousled chestnut curls that adorned her golden-brown eyes.

The sight of a beautiful woman could corrode many a man's courage but the sight of her made life itself expand.

"Hello angel." Anakin shot her a silver smile, a cheeky, moonlit distraction that probably worked in his favour most of the time. She, however, wasn't impressed.

There was such a mystery written on his face, illustrating such delicate bone structure. His allure quietened the mind and unearthed the sensual soul... until he opened his mouth!

So she got straight to the point. "How do you get away with making all that noise in a residential area?!"

"You live here?" He asked.

"Just moved in."

"Oh, well." He placed his hands in his pockets. Despite his careless frat-boy demeanor, it definitely didn't seem like he was putting on an act or trying too hard. He blended his effortless sexiness and his idiosyncrasies with an intelligence – he knew these streets and read the psychological subtleties people often overlook – he likely got a kick out of throwing people off balance. "This is how we introduce newcomers to the neighbourhood."

His friends Kitster and Wald struggled to contain a chuckle under their breaths behind them, and Padme was far from amused.

"Did it not occur to you that your neighbours might be asleep?" Her rhetorical question made it abundantly clear no quips were going to soften these rough edges, the stiff breeze that solidified the distance between them. Her words and her attitude, curt.

"We uh figured since it's Friday night and all, most people would be out. It's sort of a weekly thing for us, these races." Anakin casually motioned towards the men and their vehicles. He looked back at her and... nothing – no sign of lowering her defenses. This was not an opportunity for conversation, geniality, and certainly not flirtation and mockery - no matter how innocent.

He quickly continued, "But we'll uh try to keep it down." Accepting that any further interaction would hinder his attempt to defuse the situation, he shot her a polite nod, about to head back to the boys.

"You know, racing cars is dangerous and reckless, and you'll probably wind up dead." Her brusque reply caused a half-smirk to appear on his face.

"I know there's like, no disadvantages." He grinned.

She scoffed. "Funny."

"Oh come on, don't judge. I'm sure you have hobbies I'll think are lame."

"Excuse me?"

"Let me guess," He pretended to ponder. "You like. . .a quiet night in with Jane Austen, long walks on the beach. . .bubble baths."

"Well you got one thing right – I like it quiet." Padme said sternly. "And now who's judging..."

"You're right." Anakin raised his arms up, satirical about own surrender with an arrogant playfulness that irked her even more. "It'd do us all well to be more open-minded. So how about you stick around for the races, see if you like it, and then we'll try something you like. I'll join you for, say. . .a bubble bath."

His energy bounced around like giddy school boy caught red-handed with nothing but a devilish smirk on his face.

Steam coming out of her ears, Padme released her pent-up frustrations with a cutting cold breath. "I'm this close to pepper spraying you."

"So that's a no..." He assumed, his eyes flashing with such provocation as she stormed off.

"So, you going to tell me now or later?" Padme's sister Sola asked on the other end of the line.

"Tell you what?" Padme sat on her bed, holding her phone between her cheek and shoulder as she put on her shoes.

"Why you made the biggest mistake of your life."

"We don't know that it's a mistake. . .yet." Padme smirked, now placing her hand back on the phone. But her smile soon faded. She knew she was breaking quite a few hearts with the first impulsive act she's ever committed, and she had no good reason for it. It was a blind act of faith––or insanity. She was riding a spontaneous wave of wonder and curiosity – and it was a refreshing change from her typical routine life in Coruscant.

But her family on the Island of Naboo couldn't comprehend it. And she knew there was no explaining it to them. All she could do was hope that they'd trust her intuition.

"...Are mom and dad okay?" She asked.

"No." Sola's blunt reply left no room for open-mindedness, she couldn't afford to enable her little sister here. "They're not. And who can blame them, really... They paid for you to get into law school and encouraged you to move to the capital to work for one of the greatest law firms – only for you to throw it all away and move out into the middle of nowhere!"

"I know it sounds nuts. But I had this gut feeling, you know. I needed to. . .shake things up."

"I knew it... You're almost 25. It's a quarter-life crisis."

Sola seemed to have made her mind up, causing Padme to roll her eyes in response – thankfully Sola couldn't catch that through a phone call.

"Padme, just – come on," Sola huffed, like even she realized her hardened expression wasn't going to get through to her sister. "It's you and me here. What's really going on? You need help getting out of a bind?"

Padme accepted that as her cue to give up. "You know what, I don't need you to understand it. Hell, I don't even understand it. But I know I need a fresh start."

"In some desert hell hole?"

"It's not–" she shrugged as she looked out the window. "all bad."

Padme knew her tone of voice probably wasn't very convincing but she couldn't help but chuckle to herself. This is probably the wildest thing she's ever done.

That's sad, she cringed at the thought of her perfectly calculated life. But now, here we are, and it felt good to be scared – a good kind of scared. For the first time, she had absolutely no idea what her future would look like.

Padme shut her door behind her only to find the guy from the sandy car park entering the apartment across the hall. It was obvious he was coming home at 7 o'clock in the morning while she was on her way to meet a potential employer for coffee.

"Oh my god." She probably shouldn't have groaned as loudly as she did but finding out that this is her new neighbour wasn't a very good start to the day.

"Oh you live here." Anakin casually leaned back against the wall, folding his arms and grinning with a toothpick in his mouth. "The girl next door."

She wanted to wipe that smirk off his face.

His decadent desire to wind her up was so aggravating for her. Everything about him matched his cavalier attitude from his boyish enthusiasm right down to his white wife-beater vest and jeans. Quite a contrast from her ironed-out crisp white blouse and navy blue blazer and pencil skirt.

Polar opposites that have crashed into each other – they stand parallel to one another with opposing expressions. His tantalizing gaiety clashed with her sophisticated poise. Contradictory magnets somehow drawn to each other while repelling simultaneously. He seemed to enjoy the tension, the push/pull of exotic emotions. She, on the other hand, made no room for coquettish mischief. Nothing hangs in the balance. It was clear as day – whatever thread he was pulling, toying with, it is one he is knotting alone.

"I guess we'll be seeing a lot more of each other." Anakin's eyes skimmed down (and back up) her body, making her uncomfortable.

She remained silent, gauging how to cut to the chase and avoid these interactions in the future, wanting to make it clear that his remarks, attitude, and flirtations are not welcome.

She leaned in discreetly, demurely, and kept her voice low, "You know this attitude won't get you laid."

A soft chuckle left his lips, admiring her straight-talking principles. "Yeah, no this is good." He said with an undertone of mockery. "I didn't wanna lead you on either."

"Good." She replied firmly.

She turned away to head down the stairs as he watched her. He now stood up straight, off the wall, and faced his entire body at her.

"Good." His tone still had a hint of mischief. "Because now, even though you're incredibly attracted to me, I can roam the halls without having to worry about you coming onto me all the time.

Padme turned back to face him, trying to conceal the corner of her mouth turning upwards. She didn't know if she should find his need to come out on top charming or irritating – it seemed like he just craved the attention.

"So, yeah..." Anakin's face awash with such nonchalance, a coolness as he masked a tempting smugness. "Glad we got that out of the way."

"Hmm. Yeah... " She said with a sarcastic nod. "I feel better."

"I do too." He grinned, knowing she could see right through him and he found a divine pleasure in that.

It was a bright, sunny morning – the kind that painted a vanilla sky. Padme was barely able to cope with the heat. The sun highlighted exactly why people bothered to stay in this town; when it dawned, you could see the perfectly sculpted mountains, clear and full of hope, inspirational. The view from her window, every powdery shade of reddish yellow as the serene sand flows and folds like a satin sheet.

Padme rushed downstairs after getting a call from the moving company that her couch from her apartment in Coruscant had been delivered. After racing down five flights of stairs, and wishing the building had an elevator, she came to find none of the movers there – just her beige couch and the building's superintendent, Panaka. The residents lovingly refer to him as The Captain.

She brushed her hair out of her face and pulled her t-shirt down to her shorts, to stop it from riding up and exposing her stomach.

She approached the super, "What happened to the movers?"

"I sent them away." The man didn't look up at her, focused on assessing the many keys in his hand.

Padme blinked, adjusting to the news. "Y-you sent them away?"

"Nobody moves on Sundays."

"What?"

"Nobody moves on Sundays." He reiterated with a blunt emphasis.

"I heard you." She said flatly. "But what am I supposed to do now?"

"Relax." He finally looked up at her, slightly caught off guard. He had forgotten since he gave her her house key when she moved in that she was quite the looker. "You can bring it up tomorrow. Until then, it's safe in the lobby."

Padme did her best to ensure her exhales were slow and controlled, trying to keep her frustrations sealed in a tight bud behind her gritted teeth, despite how badly they wanted to burst. "But you sent the movers away."

"Look," He said with a huff as though the conversation was a bore. "I'll personally help you bring it up. For free. But tomorrow."

As the super walked off, it took Padme a minute to loosen her tense shoulders. She let out a sigh as she turned to her couch. All her history was smeared across this couch - the remnants of her past as she dragged it all the way to Coruscant (from dorm room to living room) – the nights she ended up crashing on it after work because she didn't have the energy to make it to bed; the memories of all her study books scattered across the cushions. It was an heirloom that recollected many milestones of her life and perhaps some reminders of what was missing, a redolent scrapbook of dreams. After all, this couch was reminiscent of the work she put into attaining her life goals – only to miss out on life itself.

She needed this couch here. She needed a constant – something that reminded her of the kind of memories she'd like to make.

She grabbed the cushions and headed back up to her apartment. Pulling her key out of her pocket, she glanced at her neighbour's door.

Anakin opened the door after a subtle knock on her part. Padme's eyes widened at the sight of him. Messy bed hair, no shirt, wearing nothing but sweatpants and a lustre in his eyes. Did I mention, no shirt?

"That's how you answer the door?" She didn't mean to come off too critical but where she came from people had a sense of decorum. And it was terribly distracting to look at his chiseled chest, defined arms and shoulders without getting swept up in his very visible virility.

"I just woke up." He said with a groggy tone, rubbing his eyes.

"Of course you did." Again, she struggled with not sounding condemnatory. Feeling angry as a wave of testy waters rushed through her – finding him irksome with his carelessness – partly because she had to resort to asking someone like him for a favor, and partly because the behaviour she found utterly distasteful still seemed to have a luring effect on her.

And it seemed he noticed her sharp tone. "Can I help you?"

She prepared herself to say words she clearly had to push herself to utter. "I had my couch sent over from Coruscant and it's down in the lobby. . .the super sent the movers away."

"Yeah, nobody moves on Sunday."

"So I hear." She spoke with a half groan, no less annoyed by what was common knowledge around here.

"Welcome to Tatooine." His sleepy voice matched quite nicely with the half smile that curved one side of his mouth. She had to quickly stop herself from staring.

"Look," She sighed - a heavy sigh, releasing the pressure of an almost racing heartbeat, "I know we got off on the wrong foot but I don't know anyone here and I was wondering if. . .well, if you'd be willing to move it for me."

He rested his elbow against the doorframe, and raised a surprised (and amused) eyebrow. "You want me to lift your couch up five floors? You think I look that good?"

She folded her arms, doing her best to not show any reaction – not a scoff or a smile. She hoped she didn't look as flustered as she felt.

"I was hoping we could do it together." She replied sheepishly.

"Sure," Anakin pressed his lips tightly together to avoid unveiling a smirk. "We could. . .do it together."

And there it is, she mumbled in her head. The battle recommences. And he felt he had detected a slight eye roll.

"Just say the magic word."

"Seriously?" She seemed worn out already. "What are you, eight?"

"Not quite." He delivered the words with a wispy, soft spoken voice, barely above a whisper. She could tell he was having way too much fun. She tried to breathe through the restlessness while he watched her with calm, soul-stealing eyes.

"Fine." She eventually agreed. "Please."

"No..." He tilted his head to the side, contemplatively. He could sense her disdain shooting daggers his way. It was easy to rile her up – and for him, it became more and more of a thrill, a desirable shiver, to catch her off guard. "Say. . .that you need me."

"Oh forget it!" She snapped, about to walk off.

"What?" He teased with an exaggerated innocence. "-you're asking me to break the rules. The least you could do is beg a little."

She was about to place her key in her front door when he continued with that same smooth, persuasive sensibility, "Come on, do I look like someone who'd break the rules?"

She turned back around to face him. "Yes."

He paused, allowing room for this giddy feeling to settle at his feet. "You might be right."

He grabbed his keys and cigarettes, shoving them into his pocket, threw on the nearest t-shirt and led the way downstairs, barefoot.

"I'm Anakin." He stopped to properly introduce himself before they took the first step down.

She glanced up at him with a look that proved she was finally willing to lower her shield, a symbol of a truce. "Padme."

She then proceeded down the stairs while he took a moment to admire her name. It was the prettiest word in language, and it conjured up an ideal, a more prominent road to an uncharted desire, one he hadn't felt before – and he was clearly ready for the ride.

Start fights

Two black eyes

Motorbikes

Drive fast

Dress in black

Step on cracks

Breaking all the rules

Slow Runner - Break Your Momma's Back