Chapter 1: Reason.

At the time, I never thought he'd be my reason to leave.

I, for one, am not a morning person. I sleep in until the very last minute, and even if I do manage to wake up early, I enjoy lying in bed and pretending to be asleep until the alarm rings for the third or fourth time and I have to bash my palm against it to make it go away.

Jason was the first to burst through the door.

"KK!" He whines, climbing onto my bed and bouncing with early morning goodness. "I'm late for soccer practice!"

I groan, pulling the duvet cover over my head to drown out the noise.

My older brother Sam follows after him, sauntering through the now open door." Yo," he grunts, "You taking the car today?"

I squeeze my eyes shut in an attempt to return to the delicious dream I was having. Uh, let's just say it involved truffles but they weren't the only things that were delicious.

There's a polite knock. "Hey sis," Matt lingers in the doorway, still refusing to step into a girl's room even though it's been eight years since the- in my words: embarrassing, in his words: horrifying- incident, "Mind giving me a lift?"

My eyes are half closed as I peek out from under the covers, trying to make sense of the flashing green digits on my clock.

It was five frickin' am.

I wave a hand feebly at them and turn over, mumbling something along the lines of, "Lehmesleeep."

On cue, my three brothers open their mouths in perfect synchronization. "Kriiiiiiisssttteeen!"

I throw my pillow at them just as dad pops his head around the corner. "Kris-oomph!"

Glaring at the mass of boys (and some grown men) now gathered around my room, I finally sit up and yell, "What's a girl to do to get some privacy around here?!"

"Um," Jason twiddles his thumbs, his baby blue eyes wide and innocent. "Maybe get up?" He was the youngest and often used the cuteness factor to get what he wanted. Admittedly, it worked- most of the time.

I stare at Jason as though that's the most ridiculous suggestion I have ever heard in my life. Then, I flop back onto my bed, snoring even before my head hits the mattress.

So yeah, let me introduce you to some very morning people: the rest of my family.


"Why, may I ask, have I been written in for the part of the stepmother?" I wave the script for Net5's new show "The Mask" in the director's face. "Last week, I auditioned for Aurella and you told me I got the part!"

Looking down, I scrutinize the tiny writing in the character profile boxes. "Plus, isn't this a bit ridiculous? Aurella's stepmother is supposed to be thirty." I pause, raising my ID lanyard pointedly. "In case you hadn't noticed, I'm eighteen."

I was angry. No, I was furious. I had worked my butt off and memorized most of the script for Aurella's part and now they were telling me I'm being replaced?

The director looks over my shoulder sheepishly, and I get a bad feeling in my gut.

"Hey," a voice says behind me.

I freeze. I don't even have to turn around to see the trademark smirk hanging off Logan Wentworth's face.

Of course, it would be him. Oh, it was bad enough that he went to a fancy schmancy arts college that I had always wanted to get into but couldn't afford. It was bad enough that he'd been the boy next door since forever and it was definitely bad enough he'd broken my best friend's heart only a few days ago. But this- this was taking our rivalry to new extremes.

"Oh," he grins, pretending to be shocked. "You didn't know?"

"The only thing I know right now is that you're an arse."

Lifting an eyebrow, he replies casually. "Net5's signed me up as their new star recruit."

GOD. DAMN. IT! I swear under my breath, but apparently I wasn't as quiet as I thought.

I blink to find Logan's face inches away from my own. I have to admit that he's always been good looking in that wholesome American way, with tousled blond hair, sparkling cerulean eyes and a smile that could charm the socks off half the female population, assuming they all wore socks.

His breath is too hot against my ear. "You care to repeat that?"

Resisting the urge to slap him senseless, I take a step back. "Hole," I mutter before walking away, leaving behind my script and a very confused camera crew.

I shiver, wrapping my arms around me as I wait for the lights to turn green.

My brothers had pinched my car this morning, even after I warned them that if they wanted to use it, they should at least help me pay off the loan. Needless to say, no one ever contributed to my credit card repayments at the end of the month, and they still got the car.

It was incredibly chilly in the evening and I didn't have a jacket. This was due to the mistaken assumption that come nightfall I'd be driving home in my nice, heated, relatively safe hatchback. So much for that, I thought as a cold draft blew a pile of leaves onto the footpath.

It was then that I heard it. Footsteps behind me.

Hurriedly, I step off the curb, the hairs on the back of my neck raising.

The footsteps quickened, then slowed when a car drove past.

I break into a jog, comforting myself that the chain of events I was now imagining only happened in the movies and that no one was actually following me.

It was when the person behind me was practically breathing down my back that my legs started pumping and I sprinted down the street, making my way towards a busier part of town where I wouldn't be robbed in the middle of nowhere. I think back to this morning's front page news- a girl had been followed, raped and killed somewhere near this neighborhood. Oh shit, I thought as I rounded a corner and crashed into a hard object, unable to stop myself from falling forward.

The jogger close on my heels cast me a weird look as she overtook me, her Nike running shoes too white in the dim lighting.

"You can get off me now," a calm voice came from somewhere beneath me.

I blush, pushing myself away from the boy who proceeded to sit up and rub the back of his head before reaching for his baseball cap.

"I'm so sorry…" I managed to say before I promptly forgot the rest of my sentence. My mouth opened and closed but no sound came out, and I didn't doubt my resemblance to a goldfish.

"Y-you," I splutter, "You're Chase Henderson."

He ignores me, pulling down his baseball cap and brushing the dirt from his nicely worn jeans.

"You're famous." I say and immediately wish that a hole would swallow me up. Way to state the obvious K.

Chase turns his smoldering gaze to me, and I can almost feel myself melting, evaporating, or whatever it was that happened when you decide to pitch a block of ice at the sun.

He chuckles, a dimple flashing cheekily. Then, his slate cold eyes harden. "And you're a nobody."

I'm so shocked that I don't even notice him leaving. Was that really Chase? The nice guy in "Only You"? The puppy dog lead in "Love Letters to Nowhere"? The hero of "Chasing Dreams"? I felt like I'd been drenched with a bucket of icy water.

I started acting because of two words, one person: Chase Henderson. At the time, I never thought he'd be my reason to leave.

A/N: A little bit of fun and fluff. I've started this story in an attempt to get rid of writers' block, so consider yourself warned. At some point I will come up with a better synopsis. Oh, and reviews are always appreciated.

P.S. I'm going to try not to go back and read/edit what I write, so please forgive me if you find typos etc.