Smile. It was an odd thing to do. But it was so easy to smile; thinking about Kyle Valenti. Don't even go there girl. Kyle was human. She was Antarian. That alone made him and her a non-possibility. She was an advanced species. From another world. She was alien. She was green and slimy underneath. Hadn't Nascedo taught her that much? Had shown her their real form between shifts? From the outside you couldn't see the differences, but they were there on the inside; fears of little green men made real. And yes, there was that. She hadn't been able to admit to herself how scared she really was. If she let him close enough, loved him, he would be able to see; see her soul, and see how different she really was. He would see how alien she really was. And maybe even worse, the parts of her she couldn't understand, the human parts, were too screwed up, too fuzzy, too painful to even think about. And like a good soldier she always pushed these away. But if she were to be with Kyle there's no way she could hide that part of herself. He would see it, and he would run. Just like everyone else.

She needed to be with her own kind.

It was the only rational conclusion. Be with people who understand; people who won't judge. Which left her really only three options: Max, Isabelle, and Michael. Her first choice of course was Max. He had been her husband in another life after all. She had thought that once she found him everything would click back into place. He would realize how much he needed her, how invaluable she was, and how much she loved him. But as time wore on, she realized not only was he in love with someone else, but she didn't love him. Not even close if her shared vision between Max and Liz was any indication. And Isabelle…well she might be lonely, but she wasn't desperate. Not yet anyway, she thorough with a wrinkle of nose. Michael, however, had the right idea about getting the hell out of this place, and sticking together. And even though he had a beautiful body, she couldn't deal with his grungy appearance, and lack of hygiene. Gross.

And so once again, Tess Harding found herself alone in the world.

He could feel the cool glass beneath his fingertips; the slight ache in his back from an hour of sitting slouched down in the hard stool at the counter. His hair fell into his eyes, obscuring everything around him. He needed a hair cut. But it was interesting seeing what his hair looked like long. He had always kept it cropped close. The words ch-ch-chia sang melodically into his mind. A memory from fifth grade. His memories from then had always been so hazy. Everything about it seemed so distant as if locked behind some impenetrable door that would open when the time was right. Like now for example. Little Maria Deluca's voice reaching out to mock him from the past.Ch-ch-chia. He snorted. Only she would think he had Chia Head hair. And of course it would take him six years to finally understand the insult. He wondered if she still thought he had chia hair. But later. He would ask her later.

Now, was his time. His wallow time. He lifted himself slightly and pressed the cold glass to his lips and drank some of the orange soda. Cool and refreshing. He had made the right choice. Strains from the jukebox in the corner wafted over to him. He snorted again. How Ironic. He caught the opening verse of the song.

Had a bad day again

She said I would not understand

She left a note and said

I'm sorry I, Had a bad day again

Was fate trying to annoy him?

She spilled her coffee broke a shoe lace

Smeared the lipstick on her face

Slammed the door and said

I'm sorry I, had a bad day again

But doesn't everyone? Have a bad day? But maybe it was more than a simple bad day, maybe there was no one at home. No one worth going home to.

And she swears there's nothing wrong

A year of playin' that same old song

She puts me up and puts me on

It's not like he has anyone to go home to either. No girlfriend. No bright future ahead of him. He had lost interest in sports. And when he came to that realization, it hit him that there was nothing left. No college scholarship. No college then. There was no way he would get a scholarship on his current grades. Was college really right for him anyway? No, not really. He had wanted to go, to get out of Roswell; to go with all of his sports buddies. To play ball and make something of himself. And now….now he could look forward to life at the cheese factory. The factory wasn't too bad. But would it be worth it in the end? No, not if he came home to something better, something that made life at the factory just a paycheck, and not his life. Love. He wanted love. But here he was, in the Crashdown drinking his worries away with a cool glass of orange soda. He was seventeen for fucks sake, he didn't need to find love. But looking to the back door of the café that led into the staff lounge, he saw Liz, her eye wide, and knew that she was looking at Evans. It was too much effort to turn and find out for sure. But it must be. She only had that look when the two of them, what was it he had overheard Maria and Liz say once? Connected? That's right, when they connected. Maybe he wasn't too young to find love. Seemed like everyone was these days. Everyone but him. Fuck.

Had a bad day again

She said I would not understand

Left a note and said

I'm sorry I, had a bad day again


And she swears there's nothing wrong

A year of playin' that same old song

She puts me up and puts me on

Oh, I've had a bad day again

She said I would not understand

Listening to the song, he understood. She had a shitty life. She hated it, and going to him everyday wasn't worth it, had been worth it ffor the past year. And she stayed. Why? Love maybe, wanted to pretend that their love was worth it? It reminded him of his own parents. They'd stayed together too long, and when it had ended, his mom leaving without even a note goodbye, no word from her until they'd received only a thin envelope containing a letter telling him his mother had died in a car accident. She had specified in her will that she wanted them to be notified if anything happened to her. And so it was really just the Valenti men. Sharing their house, a constant stream of ESPN and America's Most Wanted, and eating takeout together on the couch.

She left a note and said,

I'm sorry, I had a bad day again

She left a note and said

I'm sorry, I've had a bad day\

But maybe life wasn't that bad. He still had to find the love of his life. The guy in the song had found his, and for them it hadn't been enough. It would be for him. He was sure of it. And thinking back on it, he knew that his dad deserved that too, to find someone, who would love him, not let him be the Serious Sherriff of Roswell all the time. His dad deserved it, raising him all on his own this whole time.

Nah, nah, nah, nah




And although he hoped it would never happen again, maybe it wasn't such a bad thing that he had walked in on his dad and Amy Deluca this morning. Maybe they'd have a talk about it over some ice cream. And maybe he would get an extension on his curfew. It might come in handy, one day…even if it wasn't right now. But that was ok, he could wait.

Suddenly he felt warmth burning into the side of his face. It was a palpable thing. Turning he caught sight of Tess looking his way. And involuntarily, he smiled. Maybe he wouldn't have to wait. He felt his smile widen at the thought.

Maria Deluca and Michael Guerin were in no position to notice or care what was going on in the café. Maria felt Michael's mouth on her shoulder, a series of wet kisses, the feel of rough bricks at her back and knew no more.

Not thinking was good. It was wonderful. It had led the two of them here, to this unchartered territory, something new and unexpected; despite their previous make out sessions. This was…this was…..

Across town, at the mall, Ice Princess Isabelle Evans was looking at a display of aliens. It was Roswell, New Mexico, it was hard to go even a few feet and not see some form of the alien theme. But walking in the mall, a place so ordinary and like almost every other she as caught by the wide black depths. Was entranced by the funny head and green skin. It brought back the old sadness; the old hurt. Was this who she was?

Gracie and Maggie found their way over to her.

"Isabelle! I was calling you foreves! What are you doing over here looking at this lame store anyway? Not thinking of joining the alien mania like your dorky brother are you?" Isabelle looked at the two of them. She had known for years that the two of them were vapid and shallow. It was her protection. They couldn't and didn't care about the real her; they weren't interested in seeing it. So in a way it was easier for her to hide. To be someone else, because this was normal. In this vapid and shallow world, she fit in, and was like every other shallow high school girl; mean, deceitful, and without any real friends.

She realized then, that this had been a mistake.

She had called the two of them to see if they had want to go out, have some fun at the mall shopping, and hanging out. They had agreed rather reluctantly. After all, she had been seen working at the Crashdown Café last year, and had told them to shove it. But she was still the most popular girl at West Roswell. So they had accepted, and they had come, and she felt none of that protection she had once felt.

She only felt lonelier, sadder. And unbidden she had a momentary memory flash before her of Alex, Maria, and Liz sitting around a table, just talking, and laughing. That was friendship. That was love and trust. And it was safety too. A better kind of safety. She wanted friends. And she had thought that Gracie and Maggie had been what she was missing. But it wasn't. Somewhere along the way she had changed. Would they want to be friends with her?

Yes, yes they would.

Isabelle couldn't wait to get rid of the fashion twins. Maybe she would even call Liz or Maria.

Then again, maybe dropping by the Crashdown would be better.

Alex Whitman found himself playing yet another set of his band's newest song: Love's Revenge in his parent's garage. It was loud, and broken, and wild. Alex knew it needed some changes. Some of the keys were wrong, and the tempo didn't sit right in the third verse. But listening to his band play the song through a few times gave him a quiet satisfaction.

It wasn't perfect, and neither was he. Sure he was being defiant. He new the song needed work. But to him, it was more than a song. It was…was…him, everything she had made him go through since she had ended things that summer. He wasn't completely over the heartbreak yet, especially since he knew that she still cared about him. It was all because of Destiny. Well fuck destiny! he thought savagely as he continued to play his angry song. But when it was finished, he deflated, all of his connection to the song was gone. It was just a song now. He had work to do. The song needed to be finished. And soon.

WXBR, the local alternative station was holding a battle of the bands in two weeks. The winners would get real recording time 10,000 dollars, and a chance to compete against other bands across the nation for a contract deal. There wasn't any time to make this personal. He had work to do. First, he'd start with a new title….

And unknown to the eight teens, from very far away, two pairs of eyes were watching.

Disclaimer: This is my own work of fiction based on the TV series created by the once WB and Jason Katims, and Melinda Metz. I in no way own these characters.

Also, I have used quite a bit more of the Roswell Elementary series by Emily and Kara than I thought I would. So I better state that some of (most of) the stories from fifth grade belongs to them.

In addition, the song is Bad Day by Fuel. I just listened to the song for the lyrics, so they may not be exact.

AN: I hadn't really planned where this story is going to go. And if I did, I've forgotten. I do have some ideas for the next chapter. Let me know what you guys think. Ready for a long haul? Also, I had same trouble with Isabelle's character, what do you guys think? I also had some trouble with the formatting, so yeah forgive the line breaks. This work is also unbeta'd so sorry about any mistakes. Thanks again. Vysgiyi.