A/N: um, hey. its been a while, almost a month. you may have noticed that all my stories are missing. and its just been this personal thing and someone trying to piss me off and "hurt" me and its just been a hellish sort of thing. (which is also why my penname thing is changed). so, this is my new story because i was dying to write something tonight. this is what happened. i dont quite know where im going with it. tell me what you think. if i continue it, ill let you know what you need to know story wise once i myself figure it out. :-) so enjoy and review.

disclaimer: for the whole story, i dont own anything.

chapter one

The brick wall against her back was solid, sturdy. The most stability she had felt in a long time. Her shoulders left bare from the white tank top were glistening with sweat in the pale streetlight outside the alley behind the club.

She looked down at her simple denim mini skirt – as modest as mini can be described, of course – and her sweat-soaked tank top, and she frowned. This can't be the same person who had left her apartment a mere three hours ago. Was it possible for this much to have changed in less than one hundred and eighty minutes?

This simple thought made her stomach churn and she slid down the wall, not flinching at all from the pain she felt with the rough bricks scraping her bare skin. She clutched her stomach desperately, silently willing it to calm, at least for now, but her body seemed to have a mind of her own.

As her mind raced, as thoughts were pushed to the front of her mind and consciousness, she bent over to her side and threw up on the cement; the drinks, the cheap appetizers, the memories from the past few hours.

Her ears were ringing from the fast, upbeat techno that had been blaring through the club speakers full blast for the past hour and a half.

She was sweaty, the result of being smack dab in the middle of hundreds of dancing college kids, in a small room that had to be over maximum occupancy.

Her hands were clammy, she was shaking. All of this from a simple dinner invite. Obviously, first dates were no longer the simple dinner and a movie they once were.

From the street she heard voices and braced her back against the wall, using her feet to push herself up against the wall. The last thing she wanted was to see people.

"Did anyone hear someone throwing up?" she heard a male voice ask.

"Should we have?" a different male voice asked.

She watched their silhouettes dance across the red bricks, seeing three guys and a girl with curly hair, all standing under the streetlight.

She slowly sat back down on the ground, crouched out of their view. She craned her neck to the other end of the alley, hearing the back door to the club open slowly.

"Hey, man, I said not to bring that to this door. Not my fault. Oh, come on!" The door closed again with the man walking back inside the club. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, but felt the bile rise in her throat for the second time that night and she got sick again.

Her arms her shaking as they held up her small frame from the ground, and suddenly, someone was there. A strong someone. Grasping her elbows, pulling her up, only to lean her back down against the wall at her apparent dizziness. This person brushed stray hair off her sweaty forehead.

"Easy there, don't need to throw up again." It was a man, maybe a little older than she was from what she could see through her half-open eyes.

Another someone, the girl, had brought some sort of cloth and was wiping her face in her dazed state. She saw the other two in the background talking, though she only caught bits of their conversation, and their not-so-subtle glances at her.

"What do you think happened to her?"

"She looks like she's been through hell, mate."

"Subtle, Finn," the other replied, rolling his eyes.

The one holding her up grasped her elbows once again and she felt a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. Safety? Relief? Enough of whatever it was to not notice a gasp from the girl next to her.

"Logan," this girl breathed, pointing to her shoulders, where the rough edges had scraped at her shoulders, "Look."

He looked down at the noticeable scratches, some bleeding, some just shining bright red in the dim light, and sighed. "What the hell happened to you?"

She smiled softly at the two of them, an ironic smile, one that sent chills down Logan's, or so he was called, she couldn't really be sure, spine. "First dates are a bitch these days, huh?"

Logan let out a chuckle as he supported her, "I'm Logan. We were walking by and heard you. Thought we'd give you a hand."

"Rory. I was just, uh, getting away from some people," she murmured.

"Well, where do you live; we can drop you off or is there somewhere we can take you? Oh, I'm Steph by the way," the girl said.

"I can just call a cab. It's really not that big of a deal." She winced slightly as Logan's arm hoisted her up under her arms, brushing her shoulders in the process. "I'm okay, really. Just a little," she searched for the appropriate word, "loud in there."

"Clearly it was more than that," one of the two guys who had fallen in step behind the three said.

"Colin," Steph said flatly, silencing him.

"Look," Rory said, attempting to pull out of Logan's support, "I'm really fine." She wobbled slightly on her own, brushing her hand along the side of the brick wall of the alley, "See? Fine."

She jumped at the vibrating in the pocket of her skirt and sighed, "Hello?" she said into the receiver.

"Are you going to be home tonight, hon?"

"Mom, hey. Um, yeah, I'm getting a cab right now. I'll be there in an hour."

"It's already two in the morning, Ror. Do you want me to come get you?"

"No, Mom, really. How about I just drive up early tomorrow morning. That way we can both get sleep and I save money on cab fare?"

"Well, I guess Willy Wonka can wait another night."

"That's nice of him to do." She was slower tonight, her mother noticed. Something was off.

"He loves me."

"I bet he does. But listen, I'm going to go. I'm beat and I just need to sleep."

"Mkay, talk to you later. Love you, hon."

"Love you, too." She slid the phone back into her pocket and brushed hair out of her face.

She steadied herself on the wall. "I should go. Thanks for your help, really. It was unnecessary, but appreciated. So, I guess I'll see you later."

She walked slowly out of the alley and tracked down a cab, easy to do in the busy Friday night Hartford scene. The others watched her climb hesitantly into the cab before turning to each other and shrugging.

"Wasn't that the Gilmore girl, Richard and Emily Gilmore's granddaughter?" Steph asked, causing the three to turn and look at her.