Ronnie Anne walked back into the auditorium, her head hanging in despair. Ignoring Clyde's question asking whether or not she found Lincoln, she took a seat onstage and buried her head in her hands. The sight of Lincoln and another girl together sent her in a flurry of emotions. She never saw much of the girl except for her black hair and blue winter coat. Who was she really, and how does she know Lincoln?

"Ronnie Anne...you okay?"

The girl in question glanced up to find her boyfriend giving a concerned look of sympathy. Clyde... He was the one responsible for all of these events. If he hadn't grown jealous of Lincoln's seemingly perfect life... If he hadn't retrieved those video tapes and reworked them to make it look like Lincoln had duped me for Cristina... Lincoln would've never met that girl. Suddenly, an unknown emotion that enraged jealousy was the closest thing to identifying it began to stir her intestines and cloud her mind.

"This was all your fault..."

BAM!

Five Hours Prior. . .

"Kid, do you mind a talk?"

Lincoln nodded and stood up, walking outside with his new self-proclaimed boss. Arnold stood still when he reached the end of the driveway, allowing the winter breeze caress his face with gentle ease. Three hours had passed by quickly, and he (Lincoln) had passed his first "mission"...if the mall mayhem that ensued three hours ago was considered a mission at all.

"Kid... I've walked this Earth for 40 years now, and I've been in the crime game for 20. In-between the years at 30, I acquired a new rival by the name of Rupert Thorne. He's a crime boss like myself. He's a loose cannon...unlike myself. He's smart, though; I'll give him that. He's smart enough to have corrupt cops on his side and remove any essential evidence that could incriminate him. A Karma Houdini. No confessions whatsoever. I need to prove – not just to him, but every crime boss in the world – that I still got what it takes to in the game. That's where you come in, kid."

Lincoln stayed silent all this time and only spoke after Arnold's speech: "Didn't we have this conversation three hours earlier?"

"I only got an incomplete answer to my complete question. So... Are you in or are you out?"

Now that he was able to think straight, Lincoln had second thoughts about this job offer. The real reason why he was actually considering staying? Sophie. His dearest Sophie. He was aware that they had met just two hours ago, but he was instantly beginning to care for her. She was the first person outside of his family (specifically Mom, Dad, Lori, Lynn, Lucy, and Lily) who was genuinely nice to him. Plus, her overall appearance helped matters; her black hair, brown eyes, and soft smile all screamed "I Love You!" to him. The question was this: Does she love him as he loved her?

The shower scene didn't help matters exactly unlike her overall appearance.

Lincoln placed that aside for now and faced Arnold. "I'll need to think about it."

"Need to? Or want to? Don't resort to stalling now, kid."

"I'm not. My family – "

"Can surely survive your absence for a few minutes or more. Besides, I've already informed your parents of your safety."

"But how? I didn't see you."

"And you didn't have to."

Arnold walked back inside the house, Lincoln soon trailing behind him. Taking his seat beside Sophie, he rubbed his chin. 'Should I...?'

Two hours later, Lincoln slipped on his leather jacket and turned towards Arnold, who turned as he did and slipped on his winter coat, "You ready, kid?"

"I'm ready...sir."

"I'LL KILL YOU, BASTARD!"

Clyde watched in horrified shock as Ronnie Anne was restrained by her family and two resource officers. His nose and mouth was already stained with dry blood, so it didn't help that more of it was leaking profusely from those same areas – the result of his very livid girlfriend inflicting a temper tantrum upon him. Of course, considering the turn of events that unfolded and the fact that he was directly responsible for most (if not all) of them, can he really blame her?

This was a mistake... All I wanted was a sweet taste of Lincoln's life of perfection. But it turned out that all that glitters wasn't gold; whatever it was, I clearly didn't see it. And I paid the price for it. I learned a valuable lesson today: the sour truth is greater than the sweetest lie.

I took the latter.

"DO YOU HEAR ME, MCBRIDE?! I'LL FUCKING MURDER YOU!"

Ronnie Anne was led out of the auditorium by the same two resource officers, crying and screaming out curses to one Clyde McBride. He and the rest of the audience could only watch on in completely sympathetic despair. As the shrieks faded away into the distance, an eerily silence filled the hall with a sense of dread in mind as if a human sacrifice had been made. One was made...but the effects were far more destructive on the people involved than the victim itself.

"Hey."

A voice called for him and thus broke the silence. Clyde turned to the source of the voice: a 11-year-old boy with blonde hair, fair skin, buck teeth, an orange sweater beneath a red coat, navy blue jeans, light blue sneakers with grey socks, and a white beanie. Somehow, he looked remarkably similar to –

"I hope you're listening, McBride, because I'm repeating this once and only once. You insult me. Your very existence is insulting. It's not because your parents are both male; I'm not homophobic by any means. But rather, the problem with you is this: what kind of a friend vows to stand by the person they swore their loyalty to before stabbing them in the back without one iota of a justifiable reason whatsoever? That kind of friend deserves to dealt with...in the proper way."

"Conner..." A girl recognized as Carol Pingrey called for the boy calling him out rather mercilessly, "Please. He's had enough."

Conner huffed in dissatisfaction and stared daggers at Clyde before turning on his heel, "Not enough, in my opinion." As he walked away, the African-American boy sighed sadly.

He's right. I haven't had enough...

(7:00 PM)

Lincoln and Sophie boarded the SUV, which drove off after the young man turned over the engine. The ride from their safe house to the school was a two-hour one, resulting in the two kids letting sleep getting the best of them pretty quickly. Lincoln, however, was a very persistent one when it came to rest.

All of a sudden, Sophie leaned against Lincoln and attempted to lay her head on his shoulder, hoping that he wouldn't mind. He didn't, actually, and caught onto the idea; he propped up his head for hers to set down. As their eyes shut, the man named Corey caught a glimpse of the scene in the rear-view mirror, causing him to express his endearment.

"Aww, young amour," Corey stated in a faux French accent.

"Hey, chauffeur, keep both eyes on the road, will you?" Arnold, who sat beside him, shot Corey an unamused glare.

"Sarcasm blind," Corey muttered under his breath, prompting a smack to the side of his head, courtesy of Arnold himself.

(~****~)

The SUV arrived at the penthouse at exactly seven in the evening. Lincoln and Sophie exited the vehicle, hand in hand. Nobody but Mr. Stromwell noticed this little detail, which he didn't argue against. In fact, he couldn't help but be sincerely touched by the scene before him, as was his wife who dared to say anything but "Get your hands off my niece!" that supported their blossoming relationship. Fortunately, she didn't, opting to instead let the scene be what it was. Her husband agreed, and watched as the two children were among the first to enter the penthouse. Lincoln and Sophie, like most kids who weren't used to living the high life, gazed in awe at the ornate decorations such as the built-in jewelry studded walls and the high-above chandeliers.

So...this is how my uncle lives... Sophie in particular began to reconsider any thoughts she held of her uncle.

The group arrived at the middle section and, setting down empty duffel bags on the coffee table, began to pack additional apparel. Mr. Stromwell and Corey, on the other hand, began to pack some heat.

"We can't stay here for long," Mr. Stromwell brass-checked a customized Colt MK IV Series 80 just as Corey loaded multiple Glock 17 pistols, "You don't have to tell me twice."

Lincoln and Sophie watched the adults pack, nothing for them to do except help...which wasn't exactly required at the moment. They had their belongings already packed for them, and they were basically idling around. So what better thing to do except help? The former (Lincoln) helped Corey fill his duffel bags to the brim with various firearms, the latter (Sophie) helped her uncle to pack important documents in two suitcases: one black, the other white...to an extent. The third suitcase was a mild grey, the contents of which were unknown...for now, at least.

Once they were done, Mr. Stromwell ordered his chief of security to lock down the building for the time being until safety was ensured before exiting with his family in tow. Lincoln and Sophie began to trail behind, making it rather difficult for them to keep up. They were too engaged in their own little conversation to even try, though.

"So..."

"So..."

"About this Ronnie Anne..."

"What about her?"

"Are you sure you won't be bothered by her again?"

"... I'm pretty sure she will try to, but not yet. It's too soon. She'll come around and bother me once the realization finally hits her."

"What realization?"

"... She fucking cheated on the wrong boy."

"Hmm. I'm impressed. You want me to knife her? Shoot her? Burn her? Bisect her? Trisect her? All of the above her?"

"Thank you, Sophie, but your services will not be required. Not yet, at least."

"Not yet... So, you do want me to knife, shoot, burn, bisect, trisect, or all of the above her one day?"

"... Someday. Not today..."

Lincoln and Sophie exchanged smiles as they followed the others out.

The Loud House lived up to its name. Taking into consideration a family consisting of ten daughters, five parents, two parents, and one son, they were undoubtedly the largest house on the block. Their two-story house somehow withstood the mayhem these eleven kids conjured up time and time again. The one story that threatened to tear it all apart involved the son of the two parents / the brother of the ten daughters. You've already met Lori and Lynn, but to hell with it.

Lori, at age 17, is the first oldest sibling behind herself. She harbors a passion for command. It is because of this devotion that she loves her family truly and dearly. With that said, antagonistic, bossy, condescending, demeaning, and...egotistical just scratch the surface of the list of adjectives that describe her. This was proven on the day of the incident.

Leni, at age 16, is the second oldest sibling behind Lori. She harbors a passion for fashion. She is the most unintelligent despite her age (the 'Most Intelligent Sibling' prize must to go to Lisa, but more on her later); however, what she lacks in intelligence, she makes up in beauty and kindness. The kindness bug didn't bite her on the day of the incident.

Luna, at age 15, is the third oldest sibling behind Lori and Leni. She harbors a passion for rock. She loves rock so much that you would often notice her dialogue consisted of song lyrics accompanied by a British accent, courtesy of her idol Mick Swagger. Despite this, she is caring and helpful. She didn't care for or help her brother on the day of the incident.

Luan, at age 14, is the fourth oldest sibling behind Lori, Leni, and Luna. She harbors a passion for comedic detail. In fact, her dialogue consists of (no offense) incredibly lame puns, with some rare gems scattered throughout. Her vow to make people laugh in a gritty, reality-based world is a testament to her positive and cheerful attitude. She found the day of the incident quite humorless.

Lynn, at age 13, is the fifth oldest sibling behind Lori, Leni, Luna, and Luan. She harbors a passion for all things sports. She can be athletic and competitive, turning everything (and we mean everything) into a sport. Like Lori and Lola (more on her below), she is one of the three easily-angered siblings and the most prone to physical confrontation. The day of the incident was a testament to this fact.

Lucy, at age 8, is the first youngest sibling behind herself. She harbors a passion for darker and edgier subject matter such as poetry and gothic fiction. She can be (mostly) gloomy, mysterious, cynical, deadpan, depressed, or all five rolled into one. However, she can be quite happy on several occasions. The day of the incident wasn't one of them.

Lana, at age 6, is the second youngest sibling behind Lucy. She harbors a passion for tomboy things, handywork, and exotic reptiles. She is the definition of a polar opposite, as evidenced by the existence of Lola Loud, her twin sister. They both care deeply for each other, however. Understandably, they both reacted the same way on the day of the incident.

Lola, at age 6, is the third youngest sibling behind Lucy and Lana. She harbors a passion for girly girl things, beauty pageants, and plots/schemes that end her way. She is the definition of a polar opposite, as evidenced by the existence of Lana Loud, her twin sister. They both care deeply for each other, however. Understandably, they both reacted the same way on the day of the incident.

Lisa, at age 4, is the fourth youngest sibling behind Lucy, Lana, and Lola. She harbors a passion for complex calculations, elaborate experiments, and no emotions whatsoever. As mentioned earlier, she is the most intelligent and the child prodigy of the family, whom she cares for deeply despite her outer emotions speaking otherwise instead of her inner emotions. Her inner emotions were expressed on the day of the incident.

Lily, at age 1, is the fifth youngest sibling behind Lucy, Lana, Lola, and Lisa. She harbors a passion for her family, particularly her oldest and only brother. With the exception of her brother, she is considered by most to be the heart of the family. Her naivety had usually gotten the best of her on occasion, but this certainly wasn't the case on the day of the incident.

The one thing they all shared in common? They all had a guilty conscience.

The family were scattered all over the place. Lori and Luna were both trying their best to comfort the young ones, especially Lily, who (unlike Lola and Lana, who released silent sobs instead) was bawling her eyes over the disappearance of her older brother. Leni too bawled her eyes out, but because her treatment of her younger brother following the infamous Sister Fight Protocol was...needlessly cruel, to say the least. And to think, it started over something petty as...a dress. A...fucking...dress. She was comforted by Luan, who unsurprisingly limited her usage of comforting to anything besides her puns and additional one-liners. No, this kind of comfort was one that was no laughing matter. In her room, Lisa ‒ whilst working on apology suggestions ‒ remained apathetic on the exterior, but felt rather pathetic in the interior...and for very good reason. Lucy seemed to be staring out the window, but in reality, she was just gazing at her reflection. She was just gazing at the monster on the other side of the mirror dimension. Lynn, on the other hand, had a different way of "gazing at her reflection" in terms of venting out her frustration.

The sister in question was viciously punching away on the various mirrors her family kept in storage, not giving a rat's ass or two if either her bloodied fists got bloodier by the split second or if she received seven years times two (or how many mirrors she shattered) bad luck. Bad luck... That's the reason you and the rest of your family got into this mess... Bad motherfucking luck... Yeah, while we would have to deal with much worse things such as video contests gone wrong and sisterly disputes over dresses...this had to be the last straw. The last straw that broke the camel's back...and completely snapped it in half. It's your fault Lincoln's gone...and dead for all you know.

I refuse to believe it.

Well, you should. Everyone else does... So does Lincoln.

The master bedroom wasn't much better, either. Rita and Lynn Sr. sat on separate sides of the room, spewing out a violent verbal battle onto each other. Both parents were absolutely livid for letting their family life/situation deteriorate down to this, but both didn't know who to blame. So naturally, they blamed each other, screaming curses and roaring profanities as if there were no tomorrow. Ultimately, things shimmered down and settled between the two, with both accepting the fact that the people to blame was standing in the room with them. Both fell asleep in each other's arms soon after.

Albert, the children's maternal grandfather, arrived not soon after being notified of the situation by police. Escorted to the house, he arrived to find it and its inhabitants in utter disarray. It was an understatement to say it was, though. The house was completely annihilated; glass was shattered, furniture was broken, and the children (with the exception of a select few) were sobbing their sorrows away. His daughter and son-in-law were nowhere to be seen or found...which was (and still is) never a good sign.

"Albert."

The old man grimaced at the other old man's voice and his tone. He turned around expecting to find his old "friend" before him, but didn't expect him to find his old "friend" before him carrying a Remington 870 by his side. Fully aware of this fact, he kept his guard in case of a sudden attack.

"Henry."

"... It's been a long time."

"... Yes, it has. I've take it you've been taking good care of my grandson?"

"You've took it correctly. Six months I've trained the kid. He has potential."

"Potential to be what? A killer like you?"

"What happened with Haley was not my fault. It was no one's fault. No one's except..."

"I know...but you were there. You could've stop them."

"I could've...and I regret the day I didn't. I still do."

"... What are you doing here?"

"Your son is...doing okay, for lack of a proper phrase."

"... And how could he be?"

"... I just know."

Henry then turned tail and began to walk off, but not before uttering an all-too familiar phrase to his old "friend": "Be seeing you, Albert."

Albert himself blinked his eyes before rolling them, scoffed under his breath, and responded in kind: "Yeah."

(9:00 PM)

Ronnie Anne couldn't go to sleep. Ronnie Anne didn't go to sleep. Ronnie Anne wouldn't go to sleep.

She should.

Ronnie Anne didn't feel like her usual self after the school assembly. Then again, why should she? She had previously established herself as a frightening force to be reckoned with, a lesson her first two victims learned the hard way. The two in question decided it was a very good idea to pull a prank on her during a very bad day. Of course, you can see where this is going; the boys were naturally terrified out of their skin and instantly regretting their choice to pull the prank in the first place the moment their smug grins met her angry scowl. Let's just say that the intended outcome resulted in them unable to walk straight for (ironically) two months. In fact...they couldn't walk at all. Unfortunately, that frightening force was unleashed again on this fateful day. This time, towards the one she...loved. At this point, Clyde had nothing on Lincoln.

It was not only her now ex-boyfriend's fault that the one other boy she loved practically disowned her to be nothing short of an underage slut, but also her own. Her horrible sense of judgment was on full display in this particular scenario, given her penchant to talking with her fists rather than her mouth. With the latter, she ate her own words that were, quote, "I almost can't believe I liked the Lame-O". Indeed, her feelings for the white-haired boy in question were reignited at the worst possible time. One of the potentially blossoming relationships she could've had was utterly ruined, and she had no one besides herself and Clyde to blame. Lincoln was right. She had absolutely no fucking idea in the fucking slightest what she was thinking that he still had a crush on Cristina (or whoever it was) after six months or vice versa.

In this case, it was a disease of uncontrollable jealousy.

Ronnie Anne watched as the SUV disappeared into the winter fog before her head gave in and hung in defeat. She had caught a brief glimpse of the figure who was accompanying Lincoln in the snow-covered block. Black wavy hair, brown mocha eyes, and a style that just screamed prim and proper elegance. She hated it. She despised it. She loathed it. Who was she? Why was she with Lincoln? Taking the recent events into consideration, however, she may have a pretty good idea why.

She, after changing into only her panties and a purple tank top, flopped onto her bed and snatched up her phone. Aimlessly browsing carefree through a few family photos for a while, she eventually moved on a few friend photos for a while. Skimming past Abigail, Isabella, and Milo, she found herself on a rather certain photo. Seven months ago did the events of said photo occur, and yet it seemed only yesterday. A kiss on the lips certainly did wonders for the both of them.

"What have I done to you, Lincoln...?" Ronnie Anne held the phone close to her heart.

(~****~)

At The Same Time. . .

Different.

It felt different.

He felt different.

It felt different sleeping in a bed than the one he was used to.

He felt different sleeping in a bed than the one he was used to.

Why?

Because she was here beside him.

Lincoln's eyes fluttered open to find the moonlight shining through the window of the safe house. Nine hours have passed following the incident that made him reach a hard decision concerning his family. What he did for the rest of his life would affect him for the rest of his life. For better or for worse, he didn't know. He didn't know what the rest of his life would be like. All he knew that he had her by his side. Literally and figuratively. When he turned over to his side, Lincoln found Sophie softly snoring into his chest, her black hair slightly tangling up into his white hair. He smiled to himself because of this, but eventually frowned knowing that sooner or later he would have to get on up and leave her for the night.

Lincoln had just finished a conversation with Mr. Stromwell. He had been officially assigned to be Sophie's personal bodyguard. He was both frightened and honored to be as such, as the life of a professional bodyguard was practically unpredictable. However, he wished nothing more or nothing less than for Sophie to be safe and sound. Not because he loved her (or vice versa). Did he? Did she? Oh, even if she did (or vice versa), their relationship couldn't possibly work or function properly...

He would yearn later. It was time to get down to business.

(~****~)

Lincoln glanced at the tables before him. The arsenal was basically a candy shop cut in half; among the many firearms were an M4A1, a H&K MK 23 with a suppressor, an MP5K with an UMP-style stock, a TDI Kriss Vector, an MP7A1, two Smith and Wesson Model 36s, a Beretta 92FS, a G36C with a full-size carry handle, a Glock 17, a Smith & Wesson M&P, two Beretta Px4 Storms, a Glock 19, a SIG-Sauer P226 SCT, an Intratec TEC-9, and a suppressed Ingram MAC-10...with additional ammunition for all of them. Of course, these weren't the only weapons on display. Several self-defense excluding firearms such as blades (i.e., combat knives, machetes, and strangely enough katanas), brass knuckles, clubs, crossbows, sais, and shurikens among others were present.

The white-haired soon-to-be assassin couldn't help but laugh in amusement. "I guess this is cheerleading tryouts, huh?"

"Very funny, Lincoln." Corey didn't quite appreciate the sarcasm in his trainee's voice. He did find it funny, however, when it became apparent that he was channeling his former self. "You know how to fight, but you need to learn how to shoot. The gun is the assassin's ally or enemy; in this case, it's the former. It's only the latter when a rival criminal uses your own weapon against you."

"Let's hope that day never comes."

"Let's hope."

Corey motioned Lincoln to take up a weapon. He eventually settled on the standard 3rd Generation Glock 17; loading the cartridge and performing a brass check, he took careful aim at a metal target. His index finger slowly moved towards the trigger and, when he finally found it, pulled it back.

BANG!

The recoil sent him reeling back and nearly hitting his nose. Shaking his head in disorientation, Lincoln did a double take when he realized the bullet became embedded in the target's head section.

"Beginner's luck, kid." Corey approached and patted Lincoln on the shoulder. "You've got a lot to learn."

From afar, Sophie watched the both of them practice, a loving sigh being elicited at the thought of Lincoln being her bodyguard.

"Indeed...you have a lot to learn, Lincoln..."

A/N: Two months have passed since I last updated. The thing is, I recently graduated high school and currently looking for a part-time job. Honestly, it takes practice, patience, and poise to make perfect. With that said, a few things I'd like to point out.

• The second volume will primarily focus on the missions Lincoln carries out on behalf of his boss and the growing romance between him and Sophie.

• Conner isn't particularly fond of Lincoln and didn't defend him because he was a friend. Instead, he called out Clyde because he was disgusted by his actions and the fact that he was supposed to be his best friend. You should remember his speech because...yeah, even evil has standards.

• I might consider revisiting "The Equalizer" in light of the film's sequel being released a month from now. Lincoln will return as the titular character, a vigilante who takes action when tragedy strikes, with the tone akin to a crime/spy thriller. Think Jason Bourne meets The French Connection.

• "Drive" is (hopefully) the first in a trilogy, with each installment exploring a different subgenre of the action genre. The first chapter is primarily a crime opera, the second is a spy film (which in turn explores different categories of the genre), and the third is essentially a superhero movie.