Innocence to Experience.

"Chris-Chris!" My head turned over to see Rose staring at me, bunches of curiousity baring down into me. That Oli guy had been stuck in my mind all that night, and even into the morning. I couldn't shake that feeling he gave me. I didn't even recognize the feeling either. It wasn't something passionate like love or hate. It was something different. This had probably been the 3rd time Rose had snapped me out of my daze that day. Rose was talking about some tv show I didn't care much for, so I decided that staring at my table lamp would be much more amusing. Unfortunatly, all it did was send me off into my world.

All around me were tall buildings. People were pushing past me, but unlike most of the people that should be here, there were men with suitcases. It was just how downtown New York has been described so many times. And there I stood, in my tight skinny jeans, bright pink hair, and lime green tank top. As the men passed, they sent me dirty glares, looking over my peirced face with digust, just so they could look a couple inches further down to run away on the sight of my tattoos.

Amongst the incoming crowd, I saw a familiar face, but without his usual attire. Oli approached me, suitcase in had, sharp suit replacing his jeans and t-shirts. his face was peircing free, his neck, arms and chest were lacking all the tattoos I saw the day previous. I frowned, looking over his outfit and appearence once more, before shoving through the crowd to get to him. As I reached him, he gave me a look I didn't expect. His eyes wandered over mine, a smirk on his face, before he shoved me onto my back, and then walked away.

"Christine! For the last damn time!" Rose's voice called through the crowd of people. I blinked a couple times, running my hands over my eyes tiredly. I gazed up at her through barely opened eyes, laying back onto the couch were we sat. What my day dream had meant, I had no idea. My day dreams usually had no meaning, they were just my mind going crazy.

"What are you spacing out about?" She asked, throwing my legs off her lap. I stared blankly at her, trying to sort out what I'd say. I wasn't sure what she would say if I told her the truth. I expected her to just start freaking out about me actually thinking about him. 'Awe! You must like him!' being her first words. She had always been overdramatic, and not one to think rationally or think things out before speaking her mind. It was a trait I did love about her, but her ignorance could be slightly annoying.

I shook my head, shrugging off her question as nothing meaningful. I had always prefered to keep to myself, even when it came to my best friend(although she was my only real friend).

Rose sighed to herself. She pushed herself up to her feet, before sending me a goodbye gesture, and walking out the front door. My eyebrow lifted, my face confused. She was never like this. What was wrong with her? Not wanting to frustrate myself, I tried to ignore what happened, and went off into my day dreaming again. Life was simplier there.

I didn't even realize I had dozed off untill I felt my mother shaking me out of sleep. I mumbled a few words, so slurred I'm sure my mom had no idea what I spoke. To be honest, I didn't even know what I had said.

"Get up you lazy bum, someone is at the door for you." I eyes gazed up at her, before looking over to the door. I excepted Rose, but she would usually just walk right in. Giving myself a few moments to wake up, I let my feet carry me to the door. Pulling it open, I let a small smile graze my lips, looking up at my visitor. It seems he was just everywhere these days.

I let my eyes penetrate his now brown eyes, trying to be as welcoming as possible while being half conscious.

"Hi?" I moved my body to the side, letting him walk into my quaint home. There was nothing special about it. Well, all of it was normal besides my moms portraits. While she was younger, she had modeled a little, that's were she met my father. My father at which I had never me before. Her old photographs hung up on the walls, along with family protraits and pictures of me as a child. Few of the pictures had me at any age past 11. Noticing Oli hadn't returned my greeting, I looked over to see him gazing at the photos I had just thought of. I watched as his eyes skimmed over each one with interest in his eyes.

"That model was my mother, and the little girl with blonde hair is me." I said, enlightening him. His head bobbed, but it did not turn to face me. He seemed really into the photographs.

"Who was that?" He said, finally looking at me. His finger pointed to a picture of my late grandfather, just before he died. I tilted my head slightly, the corners of my lips dropping. Oli's look changed into one of regret, expecting the answer I would give him.

"My grandfather, he died just after my uncle was born."

Oli nodded, a 'I'm sorry I brought that up' look crossing his face. I shrugged, it wasn't like I really knew my grandfather anyways.