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Smoke filled the air as the men lounged in their decadent surroundings. They were the future of society - the handsome, the well bred, the rich, the intelligent. They would rule the world one day; these potential lawyers, politicians, doctors, media magnates and financial directors. Their world was already filled with the taste of absolute power and, inevitably, absolute corruption. They would inherit the world in a cycle that perpetuated and span countless generations; father onto son onto father onto son. Their world was divided into two types of people: the people that mattered and the people who didn�t. Of all the men that filled this room � Pacey Witter, Will Krudski, Jack McPhee, Chris Wolfe and Dawson Leery � were the people that truly mattered. In a society where you were either something or nothing, these men were everything. �So you and Tamara Jacobs, huh?� Chris Wolfe questioned Pacey Witter. Pacey smirked in reply. �D/amn!� Dawson exclaimed. �I can�t believe you screwed the Senator�s wife! Everyone knows how incredibly hot she is but also how incredibly difficult it is to get that b/itch to spread her legs. Plus she is married to the Senator. Only you could get away with it Pacey.� �How�s Anna taking it?� Jack asked. �McPhee.� Pacey chided. �It�s none of Anna�s business.� �The two of you are still going to get married aren�t you?� Jack queried. �She�s getting daddy dearest, the esteemed Dr Evans, to arrange it. I seriously doubt Anna cares who I f/uck as long as she gets her precious golden ring on her left hand.� Pacey remarked. �Anna Evans. The remarkable young lady that won the coveted Pacey Witter.� Will proclaimed sarcastically. �The thought of the two of you together just brings joy to my heart. So when�s the official engagement party going to be?� �Don�t know. Don�t care.� Pacey replied nonchalantly. �Soon if Anna and her daddy dearest get their way.� �Well, Jennifer Lindley has already got her claws into our friend Jack here.� Chris observed. �And Anna virtually wearing Pacey�s rock, much to the dismay of the rest of the female population. And if rumors prove to be true Jack�s sister, the illustrious Andrea McPhee, is deciding between Mr Dawson Leery and Mr Will Krudski. Looks like poor ol� me is doomed to be a bachelor.� �Don�t worry.� Jack mocked consoled. �I�m sure Kristy Livingstone will be happy to keep you company. That is if Pacey is finished with her?� �Kristy and I are over and done with.� Pacey replied wryly. �A great one night f/uck I�m sure Chris will enjoy.� �Somehow I hate how I always get your cast offs Witter.� Chris complained. �Well it�s something we all have to deal with.� Will reminded Chris. �Seeing as Pacey has screwed every single decent girl over the age of eighteen.� �What can I say?� Pacey drawled. �I�m irresistible.� All four men laughed as they continued their discussion; drinking whilst debating potential conquests.
There were white walls. Blinding white walls. She lay on a too soft bed, scrubbed of dirt and blood, scrubbed of Mark and her roots and everything she had ever known. In a room of white walls and no windows. Her skin was surprisingly white and softer than she expected. Her hair was silky and soft, a gorgeous chestnut brown. Everything was soft here, too soft. She expected the hardness. She was used to the hardness. There was something uncomfortable about all this softness. And everything was too white. She could hear unfamiliar voices from just outside this room. As much as she hated this room she didn�t want to know what was outside. Something was terribly wrong. She knew that. She didn�t belong in this too white, too soft room and once the door was opened she would know why, she would remember why. �I couldn�t just leave her.� An elderly, male voice protested. �That�s exactly what you should have done, Peter.� Another voice, male and authoritative spoke. The voice that belonged to a man name Peter spoke again. �You know I don�t believe in all of that. She�s just a kid for god�s sake!! Have mercy. Don�t condemn her before she even has a chance.� �I�m not condemning her. It�s the way life is.� �It doesn�t have to be that way.� �Be realistic Peter. Who is this girl? No one knows. She has no family, no friends to speak of. She has no name. She�s no one. It would have been better to have left her where you found her.� �My name is Josephine Lillian Potter.� She was surprised to hear her own voice, with so much determination and strength. �And I did have a friend. His name was Mark.� She remembered now. Remembered who she was and why she didn�t belong here. She remembered why everything was too white and too soft. �Hello.� The voice known as Peter spoke kindly. �I see you�ve gotten up. I�m Dr Peter Ross and this here is Dr Gregory Williams. It is very nice to meet you Josephine Lillian Potter.� �I like to be called Joey.� She requested somewhat timidly but warmed by the smile on Dr Peter Ross� face. �Then Joey it is. And I like to be called Peter.� The man who had obviously been her savior replied. Dr Gregory Williams was silent all through. He gave her a curt nod, a warning look at Dr Ross before he left. �I�m sorry about my colleague.� Peter apologized. �He thinks I don�t belong here.� Joey stated. �Yes. I�m very sorry about the way he has been acting�� �Don�t be. He�s right. I don�t belong here.� �Then where do you belong?� She didn�t know how to answer that question. She didn�t know where she belonged, except with Mark. Only Mark was dead. Her only friend (and family) in this world was gone. So where did Josephine Lillian Potter belong. She had no answer. �You belong here.� Peter decided. �Now get back into bed. You�re still rather weak and pale and you need your rest. Don�t worry about Dr Williams. He�s just concerned and despite all his protestations he does agree with me. You belong here.� So it was decided. This room with its too white walls and too soft interior was where she belonged. |
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