Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Gilmore Girls, actors, characters, plots, etc, that would be the wonderful people at WB. Although if I did, I'm pretty sure there'd be some big changes coughChadcough. Anyway if you do feel inclined to sue me, some people have strange urges and we must accept them for who they are, I'm currently flat broke so all you will get is a used textbook, probably on organic chemistry.
Summary: Meet Tristan Du Gray, rich, hot, smart, the boy with it all and he wants everyone to know it. Then there's Rory Gilmore, beautiful, intelligent and has no idea about it… and is completely unaffected by Tristan, or so she keeps telling herself. But there's a secret, a deep, dark, dangerous secret that will bring them together and tear them apart.
AN: I have to admit, I did say I was going to try not to start anything new, but 'try' is the operative word. I had this other idea in my head that was just itching to be written, so here it is. I hope you like it.
Dedicated to all my serial reviewers, you deserve a special mention and this chapter is for you!
Chapter 1A tall blonde, blue-eyed boy walked, no, swaggered up to the door. He passed lines of luxury European cars, but he barely glanced at them, on his arms were two scantily-clad girls, clinging to him like two overly made-up, under-dressed barnacles, batting their false eyelashes up at him. A small group of well-dressed boys and under-dressed girls trailed after him, like a mock entourage. The door opened even before the boy reached it. Loud music burst out of the open door way as slightly tipsy girl stumbled out, she grinned wildly at the blonde boy and his band of followers.
"Tristan Du Gray," she laughed happily, wrapping her slender arms around his neck, she placed a loud kiss on his lips, "I'm so glad you could make it."
"Hey, Louise," the blonde boy, Tristan, drawled back, a lazy smirk, tugged at his lips, "I see you've been enjoying yourself."
He made no move to disentangle himself from the girl as she dragged him into the palatial house, the location of that night's party-to-be-seen-at. The two girls, who he had been 'escorting' trailed after him, alternatively glaring at each other and at Louise's back. The rest of his entourage peeled off, disappearing into the rest of the mansion.
"Not, really," Louise replied, pouting playfully, "It's just been me and my good friend vodka straight up, but now you're here, the fun can really begin."
"Straight up?" Tristan asked, still smirking, but concern crept into his voice.
"Yeah, you know how it is. I thought he was the one, Mr Right, and all that bullshit, but no," Louise frowned slightly, before cheering up again, she smiled suggestively, "I heard that Liam and Brooke broke up."
"What happened with you and what's-his-face?" Tristan persisted, ignoring Louise's question about his friend's latest dating escapade.
"He didn't think we were 'right for each other'," Louise tried not to grimace, remembering the exact words, "He said it wasn't going to work as long I wasn't swallowing."
White-hot anger burst through Tristan's veins, livid, he wanted to throttle the guy who would even dare to treat a girl so badly.
"It's okay, he and I are over," Louise said softly, placing a reassuring hand on his arm, "Truth is, he never really measured up, in all senses."
Tristan smirked, more to reassure Louise than anything else.
"It'd explain his car then?" he replied, earning him a smile from the girl.
"The car, the house, the nickname," she answered with a wicked grin, "Honestly, his shoe size, or lack thereof, should have tipped me off earlier."
Almost reflexively, Louise glanced down at the blonde boy's feet.
"Like what you see?" Tristan whispered in the girl's ear.
His smirk grew into a fully-fledged grin as he noted the blush that bloomed on the girl's cheeks, a very rare occurrence on the anything-but-prudish Louise.
"I'll have to see more than your shoes, before I can answer that," Louise replied, reverting back to her usual non-blushing self, she ran a finger along Tristan's jaw line.
"Louise, you know I like you too much to sleep with you?" Tristan replied softly, for once his tone was serious.
"Yeah, I know, you tell me that at least once a day," she sighed, a little disappointed but far from surprised.
"Because you hit on me at least once a day," he reminded her, smirking again.
"Oh, let's dance," Louise said, brightening up, she led him into another part of the house that had been cleared for a dance floor.
The crowd already burning up the floor quickly swallowed up the pair as they proceeded to dance the night away.
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By 8:30 on Tuesday morning the summer's over-the-top partying had been forced aside for the start of the new school year, still the hallowed halls of Chilton Academy literally buzzed with drunken, overly-tanned gossip. In the short stroll from his car to his locker, Tristan had learned that Lizzy Andrews would not be returning that year because she was pregnant. Apparently the product of a rebellious moment between little Miss Perfect and the pool boy, who had also been having an affair with Lizzy's mother. Tyson West's parents had supposedly come home from a little vacation in the Bahamas to find their precious son in bed with their pool boy, thus ensuing a rather ungraceful coming out for Tyson. And Mr and Mrs Machevilla had been experimenting in the bedroom when they were caught by, you guessed it, their pool boy, they tried to buy his silence with an Audi… but from the raging gossip, it sounded like he wanted the Benz. Apparently pool boys get all the action, thought Tristan smirking.
"Newbie at 2 o'clock," reported Stone Lyeton.
Who names their kid 'Stone', Tristan wondered inwardly, barely contain his disdain for the boy, who trailed after him like a lost puppy.
"She's hot, if you dig the virginal look," added Jason Whitely, another of Tristan's so-called friends.
Finally Tristan turned his head to look at the boys' object of attention.
"A Mary," Tristan murmured, taking in the girl's look of pure, naïve innocence, she looked like a lamb before slaughter.
"You want her, Du Gray?" Stone asked eagerly.
"Maybe," Tristan shrugged dismissively, he couldn't show too much interest, it wasn't his style.
"So then she's available?" Jason enquired slyly.
Something in his tone didn't sit well with Tristan.
"No, I didn't say that," he replied, trying not to sound irritated.
He felt his friends staring at him, but as the late bell rang, he brushed them aside, heading to his first class of the day. Maybe Mary would be there.
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AN: Read, review, read, review, read, review, read, review, read, review, read, review… I'm trying to burn that into your mind, indoctrinate, I believe is the word, only I'm not that evil and I'm not trying to take over the world. Except for every second Wednesday when I go to power-hungry-dictators-anonymous, my sponsor says I've really improved. I'm nice, I write stories. You like stories, right?