Melody was seated on a old, wooden stool in a kitchen, reading a book. The stool had many paint marks on it, along with scratches and chips and slight dents in its grained design. But Melody didn't seem to mind as she scratched her shoulder peeking out of her large shirt, and continued to read an obese book with a old leather spine. Long, curly black locks were done up on top of her head, and she twirled a stray hair around her index finger. She was wearing an apron adorned with polka dots and Sharpie writings, and the scene made her look like a charming girl done out from a Fairy book; if it weren't for the fact that she was smoking a cigarette. Bringing her fingers up to her mouth to take another drag, Melody sighed as she noted the time on the microwave clock.

"Hurry up with fuckin' baking, cookies, I have somewhere to be." She muttered intently while tapping her fag on a platter resting apron the linoleum. Betty bop ambled around the counter right as the oven beeped, and Melody jumped up quickly, dropping her book in the process. "Now, Betty babe, I know you like cookies, but you can't have these type of cookies - chocolates bad for you, love." Melody chided her dog, who licked her ankles.

Placing the still cooling chocolate chip cookies on a red see through plate, the girl hurriedly turned off her stove and yanked her apron off. Killing the small butt of the cigarette by drowning it in the sink, Melody grabbed her keys while balancing the platter of cookies and whistled for Betty. "Come on my pooch, gotta go."

It was one of those spring days where it was just right in the sun and dreadfully cold in the shade. The clouds hung low to the ground in billows of fluffy giants and the wind wisped around pleasantly. Melody's old Honda cruised down Peach Street with an energetic air as she made her way out of the neighborhood. The windows, along with the sky roof, were opened all the way and both dog and girl enjoyed the mix of wind and sunlight battling for cold and warmth at the same time. Turning up the radio, singing along with AFI, Melody rested her golden orbs upon her dog and smiled. "I think I need myself another cig." Pulling out another cigarette from a pack, she light with from her trusty, orange lighter. Blowing the killing smoke on the mirror as she adjusted it, Melody pulled into a large drive way. "Let's see if Clara is home like she said she'll be - like, I mean, fuck, is she ever anymore?" Betty seemed to nod in agreement and Melody smiled. "I knew you'd agree."

Striding up to the large house they let themselves in as if they lived there. Melody walked into a enormous kitchen with a large beautiful window which showed off the wild wood land through it's panes. "Clara, love, you home?!" Setting the red platter on a counter, Melody waltzed into a family room, living room, and then reached a bedroom. "Ugh, I thought you would take longer." Clara, a blonde with piercing green eyes, walked out of a bathroom, only wearing a towel. "Bitch, what did you think?"

Smiles adorned both friends faces as Clara picked up Betty and smothered her in kisses and Melody helped herself to some tea. "Eat cookies, Clar, I said I would bake some, remember?"

"Oh, bliss!"

"You hog."

Melody sat herself down on a high, steel chair as she sipped her tea, laughing at her friends feverish cookie eating. Everyone knew that Clara could even burn air when she tried to cook. "So, Mel, will you come with me to the studio tonight?" "Can't, I'mma head to Jim's. Seems he needs me to fix something for him." "But you will still baby sit Emily and Nicky at six, right?" "No, I plan to kill myself by then."

"You're a doll."

"Really? Because I try awfully hard to be a rude prick and ignore people."

"MEL-MEL!!"

Two little heads of orange bounded into the kitchen, plopping themselves onto Melody's lap. Clara smiled at her illegitimate children as she handed them some of Melody's cookies. "Now, loves, Auntie Mel will be babysitting tonight and I want you both to be good. Understood?" Both twins nodded and scooted off Melody's lap so they could pet Betty bop. "I want you to be good. Understood? Please, they listen to me more than they do you sometimes!" Melody smirked at Clara over her tea. The blonde rolled her eyes as she left to get ready for work, ignoring her friends smugness. "Just make sure to be here by six!!"

--

Loud, black boots thumped against dirty black and white tiles as Melody entered a 711. The little pitter patter of paws could be heard coming behind her, from Betty. "Whats up, Jim?" A large man with a thick moustache looked up from his cash register at Melody, smiling broadly. "Nothin' but that smoke of yers, M."

"Oh, so straight forward." The black haired woman scoffed, as she jumped on the counter of the front desk. Breathing in on her cigarette, she let the smoke out, aiming for the fire alarm on the ceiling. It didn't go off. For some reason that pissed her off. Jim sensed her anger, and mumbled, between the pen in his mouth, "What's 'appen'in, eh?"

"Nothing of your concern, Jim." Despite her reply, Melody continued to talk. "Isn't it weird how people vanish? I mean, I've been looking for Theresa for what? Almost four years? And nothing!" Melody hauled her legs onto the counter while savagely hitting the ashes off her cigarette in the meantime. Sighing heavily, Jim leaned his elbows on the counter top. "Look 'er, M, you'll find her. Don't give me that face - you will! Don't give up 'ope."

Twitching her nose (an odd habit of hers) Melody slide her legs off the counter. "Yeah, I guess your right..."

Straightening up from his seat, Jim smiled. "Course I am, dearie. And now that we've - I've - fixed your hope problem, how 'bout you fixen' a problem fer me?" He pointed to the bathroom. "Cheap sinks need repairing."

"Why don't you just buy new ones?" "Well, dats simple; I've got you." Jim smiled devilishly as he handed a tool box to her. Melody leered at him, walking toward the bathroom, muttering, "Stupid bastard."

"Wots that, love?" Jim asked, pretending to not hear well. "Get your fire alarms fixed, ass."

"Will do, m'dear."