Hey all! I'm gonna take a stab at a present time story! I'm not gonna change anything too drastically from the original story line. Well, except for there being no ship or anything of the sort. But the relationships and the plot line will be pretty similar. I hope you know what I'm trying to say! Lol.

The early morning sun shone brightly into Rose's lavish room. She was tucked tightly beneath her plush lavender sheets, her fiery red hair sprawled out across her thick pillow, the deep black color of it making the magnificent color of her hair pop. She sighed contently in her sleep, having a pleasant dream. At least in her dream world she could be at peace, away from anxiety, away from stress, away from –

"Rose!" Her mother's authoritative voice came from the other side of the door, rudely waking Rose from her slumber. "Wake up this instant!" Rose grunted and pulled the sheets above her head, begging sleep to come back to her. Impatience soon got the best of Ruth as she angrily walked right into Rose's room, completely dissatisfied to find Rose still in bed.

"Mother, please go away," Rose said, her voice muffled by her pillow.

"Rose you must wake up or you'll be late for you classes!"

"My first class isn't for another hour."

"Exactly! You have to take your time to get ready, don't you? You can't go out in public looking like a mess," Ruth said as she frantically went through Rose's closet. Rose sat up and threw the blankets off of her.

"Okay, I'll get up! Just please, get out of my room!" Her tone of voice took Ruth by surprised as she stood motionless with a dress in her hand.

"Fine but if you're not downstairs in thirty minutes I'm coming right back up here," she said as she walked quickly but gracefully out of the room, closing the door a little too aggressively on her way out.

Rose sighed and swung her legs over the bed, letting them dangle loosely in the air. She was eighteen, yet the way her mother treated her she could've been mistaken for an eight year old. She was a freshman at NYU and had begged her mother to let her live on campus, but Ruth would have none of it.

"I will not have you living in an old dorm room with male classmates," she had said. "You're going to be staying right here, safe at home. Besides, Caledon wouldn't approve of you living in a dorm, anyway."

Caledon. Just the name made her skin crawl. He was a recent graduate of Harvard but had grown up in Rose's city and their families were acquaintances. He had courted her for years, since she was just a sophomore in high school, but Rose's father strictly told Cal that he had to wait until she was at least seventeen before they could properly date. Rose was actually quite excited at the idea, at first. She was used to getting male attention, very used to it, but the fact that Cal was extremely handsome, older than her, and from a familiar family put her at ease. He had been so sweet to her at the beginning of their relationship; he treated her like a princess. But once they hit their two month anniversary, everything went south. His true colors began to show, and Rose had been extremely taken aback at what kind of person he really was. He was an aggressive, controlling, abusive, pompous piece of work.

She looked over at her night stand and saw her engagement ring shining brightly in the light streaming from her window. She had accepted his proposal, which was done in front of not only her whole family, but also his. She remembered the look in her father's eyes as Cal kneeled in front of her. He was so proud of her, becoming such a wonderful young lady. He loved Cal so much; everybody did. She was the only person who knew his true self. Looking into her father's tearful eyes during Cal's proposal made it impossible to say anything but, Yes.

…

"There she is," Rose's father, John, said happily as she descended the stairs. "Come sit and have breakfast with me," he said with a cheerful smile. Rose's eyes brightened at the site of her father and she walked toward the dining table.

"John, don't encourage her," Ruth said coldly from the other side of the room. "Rose knows she shouldn't eat in the morning." Rose rolled her eyes and slumped down in the seat across from her father, staring blankly at the empty plate in front of her.

"That's nonsense," he said, "she a growing woman. At least let her have some good protein," he said as he pushed the plate of bacon towards her. She licked her lips unconsciously and reached for a piece, but Ruth hurried over to her and slapped her hand away.

"She has her ball coming up, remember? She should only eat when necessary." Rose grunted and quickly stuffed a piece of bacon into her mouth anyway. "Don't go against my word, young lady," Ruth said angrily.

"My God, mother. Don't get yourself so worked up. You'll give yourself a nose bleed."

"Rose, I will not tolerate this behavior!"

"Ruth, honey," John said as he stood from the table, "she isn't thirteen anymore. She's an eighteen year old young woman who is a student in college. A strait A student, at that. I think she's perfectly capable of making her own decisions." Rose smiled at her father's words. Before Ruth could open her mouth to protest, Ralph, Rose's personal driver walked into the room.

"Are you ready, miss? We better head on out to beat the traffic."

"Yes," Rose said as she grabbed for her large purse, "Please get me out of here." They took the elevator from their penthouse all the way down to the bottom of the building. Once they reached the busy New York streets, Rose immediately inhaled the fresh air. She looked around at all of the people running about, looking so full of life. Ralph opened the door of the BMW for Rose and she slipped into the passenger's seat.

"Oh, look!" Rose said as they drove along the streets. She pointed to a large gathering of artists of all kinds; painters, photographers, sculptors. "I forgot that the art festival starts today! Will you take me back over to this side of town when you pick me up from campus?"

"I don't know, Miss. Your mother wouldn't like that very much, I don't think."

"Ralph, please!" She begged. "Look at all that beautiful art work! Its extraordinary. And look at all those people; all different ages, backgrounds, and personalities."

"Only in New York," Ralph said with a smile.

"I love New York," Rose said quietly, "I just wish I could be a part of it. Please say you'll take me." Ralph looked at her with sympathetic eyes.

"Well, alright. But only for a short time. I can't have you home too late or your mother will surely have a fit."

"When doesn't she have a fit?" She asked sarcastically.

As she continued to stare out the window on her way to NYU, she felt her blackberry vibrate in her pocket. She pulled it out and saw Cal's name flash across the screen.

"Hello?"

"Sweetpea!" Cal's voice boomed from the other line so loudly Rose had to yank the phone away from her ear. "I just found out that the art festival is happening today downtown, and I know how much you like that silly stuff, so I thought I could take you. What do you say?"

She sighed and leaned her head against the seat. She wanted to go by herself so that she could truly take in and appreciate all of the work. If Cal was with her he would just be commenting on how stupid everything looked, and how he couldn't believe that people fritter their life away making 'finger paintings', as he called them. But if her mother knew she was with Cal, that would mean that she could stay later and see more of the art. She would just have to sacrifice.

"Alright darling, that sounds nice," she said with a fake smile.