A/n: Hello, world of FanFiction! While I am not new to this site, I did not feel comfortable putting this higher rated story (or any others I may write) on my first account. This is something that I've been thinking on and working on for a while. I've finally managed to finish laying it out and hope to give you all some more soon. Let me know what you think!

Chapter 1: I Should Have Walked

Breathe... Do not forget to breathe. Inhaling deeply, I walked up the few steps and onto stage. The sound of my footsteps were loud against the hollow, but otherwise sturdy, stage. I lifted the microphone clutched tightly in my hand to my face and looked up to the crowd in front of me. "How are you all doing tonight?" I asked, getting only a few responses. People were still filing in, taking seats around the room. I could feel my hands shaking and I felt like hiding behind one of the amps at either side of the stage. Do not forget to breathe. Taking another deep breath, I continued. "Well, we have a very special treat for you all. Here tonight, we have a local band that got a record label. This is their last night in town so let's give Illusions of Wisteria a round of applause."

Placing the microphone on its stand, I retreated as the group came up onto stage. The sound of applause followed me as I stepped off the stage, a wave of relief washing over me. "Hey, rookie!" Looking up, I smiled at Joe, the manager of the coffeehouse I worked in. The thirty-six year old man clapped me on the shoulder and shook it gently. "You did it!"

"I know." I responded, my voice dulled by the rock song playing on stage. How I had managed to not faint while out there, I did not know. After much convincing, and an offer for a raise, Joe talked me into introducing bands that performed here. He originally wanted me to perform, after hearing me sing to the radio while I worked at the counter. Embarrassed just by the thought of someone listening, I refused to sing and offered to do anything else. Therefore, I was stuck introducing the groups that performed every Saturday night. "Can I go back to the counter now?"

"Don't forget to breathe, Noelle." Joe laughed. It was something that he told me to calm my nerves when going on stage, but it was also his way of telling people to relax. I heard it often. I had worked for him since I started college here in New York three years ago. It made me a little extra money when I was not working at the school's library. Not to mention the employee discount on coffee when I was pulling a late night, last minute, study binge. Joe was the best employer I had the pleasure of knowing. I found it hard to think of him as my boss because we were so comfortable with one another. Our relationship was much closer than that of anyone else that worked for him. He was like family, although I had family back in Kentucky. "You know what, kid?"

"What?" I asked, picking up my apron off the back of a chair.

"You can have the rest of the night off. You've earned it." Joe answered, lifting my apron from my hands. I pouted, knowing that if I went home there would only be homework to do. "Don't give me that look. I know you probably have homework that needs done. Take a pastry and some coffee, then go home and get more important stuff done."

"Alright." I grumbled. Joe was the only reason the homework I procrastinated finishing was done. He was a lifesaver in that sense, but I still would rather work than touch a single textbook. "But I will be here early on Tuesday, regardless of what you tell me to do."

"Of course." Joe chuckled. "I wouldn't expect anything less. Have a good night, Noelle."

"You too, Joe." With that said, I went to the backroom where my belongings were and gathered them. After making sure I had not left a big mess at the barista bar, I took a raspberry vanilla muffin and left for home. I lived in an apartment by myself a few blocks away from New York University, where I went to school. The coffee shop was a bit further from both the school and my apartment, so I tried to catch a taxi when I could. Otherwise, I would have to walk.

As I stepped out into the late spring evening, I made my way to the curb to wave down a taxi. People passed by me on the sidewalk, some entering the coffee shop while others continued on their way to another destination. New York City was much more crowded than what I had been used to when I came here three years ago. Born and raised in Burkesville, Kentucky, I was definitely not ready for the sheer amount of people that crowded the Big Apple. I knew that I'd have to deal with the grand number of people, but nothing could have prepared me to do so. My first day in the city, I could not bring myself to go out exploring on my own. It wasn't until I absolutely had to leave my apartment that I ventured into the crowded streets of New York.

Looking back on it, I did not know why I felt threatened by being around so many people at once. It could have been that I was my first time living on my own and I did not have anyone I could depend on nearby. I remember calling home every night just to hear my family and let them know that I was okay. My family was made up of my older brother, my mother, and myself. Dad had passed away from a rare lung disease he had contracted during his time as a doctor in Africa. It happened my sophomore year of high school and I was still not fully over losing him. He never got to talk to me over the phone when I called home, but just hearing mom's and Sam's voice brought back the memories when we were all together. They were my rock even though they were a few states away.

"You gettin' in or what, sweet'art?" Snapped out of my thoughts by the loud taxi driver that I had waved down, I opened the door and climbed in. I slid across the uncomfortable back seat and put on my seat belt. I looked up at the driver, a scrawny man that was probably in his early forties. His face was unshaven, giving him that scruffy appearance. It also didn't help that his hair was long, stringy, and looked to not have been washed in a while. His eyes seemed unable to stay in one place, as if he were scanning around for something. Eventually his gaze stopped on me and he grinned, revealing a set of yellow teeth. "Where to?"

"Washington Square Apartments." I answered, trying my best not to grimace. The driver was nothing less than unpleasant, that much was obvious. At least the taxi doesn't smell... too bad. In addition, there is a window between you and him. I did not have the patience to wait for another taxi and had already climbed into this one. So I'd put up with the driver until I arrived back home.

"Ya got it, missy." he said, pulling away from the curb. Looking out the window, I watched the businesses and people pass by hoping the ride would be quick. Traffic was not too bad this time of night, but you could never tell. My stomach rumbled and I remembered the muffin I had brought with me. Reaching into the small paper bag inside my shoulder bag, I tore off a piece of the muffin and popped it into my mouth. It was delicious and I would have groaned at how tasty it was if I were by myself. I wasn't alone though, and that much was obvious when the driver spoke up. "You a student at NYU?"

I was unsure whether to answer truthfully. First of all, I did not know this man nor what he was capable of. Second of all, it wasn't really any of his business whether I was a student or not. There was no telling what he'd do with the answer I gave him. While I was fighting over whether to tell him, there was a screeching of tires outside the car. Thinking nothing of it, I opened my mouth having finally decided to answer. "Yes, I am a..."

"Shit!" The driver suddenly stepped on the gas, accelerating us through a red light. I let out a short scream as we came close to being hit by the other vehicles in the intersection. Looking in the rear-view mirror, the driver had a panicked look on his face. I turned to see what had him running a red light, but he stopped me with a shout. "Don't! Get down!"

Before I knew what was happening, the back window shattered and I screamed. Were we just shot at?! Fear raced through me at the thought of being shot at. I did not want to die like this, in the back of a taxi. The driver turned sharply down a side street, crashing through anything in his way. Staying down, I demanded to know what was going on from the driver. "Excuse me!? What just happened? Where are you taking me?"

"Miss, I can't..." There was another gunshot and it passed through what was left of the back window and cracked the back window on the passenger side. We made it to the end of the side street and he made a right turn, stepping on the gas. "Shit, shit, shit..."

"Hello?!" I shouted. "Answer me or let me out before I get shot! Now!"

"Miss, I'm sorry for draggin' ya into this, but I can't stop." he barked. Another gunshot rang out, but it missed us entirely. I hoped it hadn't hit someone who was just walking along, minding their own business. The driver must have had a cell phone because one, that was not my own, started ringing. Swearing again, he reached for his phone and answered it. "For God's sake, Fletch! I told ya's I had the money! Call your boys off!"

I did not have a clue what was going on, nor what this Fletch guy was saying on the other line. This was like something out of a movie, but never had I imagined being caught up in an event like this. Tears welled up in my eyes, thinking of all the ways that this crazy car chase could end. Most of them ended with me being the dispensable witness and I did not dare imagine what happened after that. The taxi swerved and blasted through another red light. "I'll bring it, Fletch." He paused as Fletch talked. Glancing back, whether at me or the people shooting at us, he blanched. "I've got it with me right now, yeah. I can be there real quick if ya get these guys to stop firing." Another pause. "Got it. Be there in a jiff." With that, the driver hung up and growled in annoyance. He hit his hand against the driving wheel and swore under his breath.

Slowing the car down, he took a left turn and I guessed he had forgotten I was still there, so I spoke up. "Hey buddy, I am still here. I want to go home."

"I'll get ya' home, I promise." he said. "I need to take care of this first. You won't even have to pay me, alright?"

"Um, no." I disagreed. "I've just been shot at and came close to getting in a car crash. There is no way in Hell that I am going wherever it is you're going. Take me home or I'll... or I'll call the cops!" I reached into my back and pulled out my cell phone.

"That would not be wise." he warned. "You don't know whose guys are tailing us right now. If the cops show up, we're as good as dead, girly."

"Who's following us?" I asked.

"Fletcher 'The Reaper' Morrison's boys. Ya' ever heard of em'?" the driver questioned. I shook my head 'no'. "That's because anyone who hears the name never lives to tell another soul." I should have walked home...