All the leaves are brown

And the sky is grey

I've been for a walk

On a winter's day

(California Dreamin'-The Mamas and The Papas)

You'd think something extremely amazing wouldn't happen to you. I was the same way-until that night, of course. But let's not start with such a touchy regret, I'm present today to recall the tale that changed my whole perspective on winter days in summer destined California.

December 9th, 2009

Perfect! Just perfect! Freezing wind attacked my partly covered face like a wild animal would to a hunter who crossed the boundaries. Ugh! Why does this season exist? Winter! There's no need for it! No reason! No purpose! Mother Nature honestly has to destroy it all together! Don't people realize that cold air causes insects to flee into hiding, trees to fall into a more than one month coma, animals to sleep the days away, noses to sniffle, throats to burn, bodies to desperately find warmth and unnecessarily huge jackets to be bought at a unbelievable price? I tried several times to convince my friends to finally view my opinion in a new light, however, they always claimed that winter was beautiful! Pft! Those biased tainted words only passed their blue lips because December is the month of Christmas and school break! News flash, Summer gives us a break too! No one appreciates sunny, hot weather anymore! Now, you're probably wondering why I'm hating on Winter, ignoring the points I ranted about earlier.

Hollywood, California is where I currently reside in. Yes, the glorious state that is known for hot beach summers along with equally hot bods. Picture Cali, as I identify it, covered head to foot in disgusting snow. Doesn't happen often, although here I am standing in the middle of an ice age. Mother seemingly forgot to pick me up from school as promised. There's only one other option...

Ring, ring, "Hey Chris?"

His voice expressed great annoyance, "What the fuck, Sunny? It's like three in the afternoon! You are fully aware that my daily sleeping pattern wakes me up at eight!" Ouch. Someone has their period. Oh, did I dismiss the whole introduction thing? I'm Sunny Rain Loverside and I'm one badass chick. The most likely hung-over dude on the other line is my brother Christopher who just turned twenty one a week ago.

Pretending not to notice anything was wrong, I demanded firmly, "Come pick me up. Mom was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago. I'm dying in an snow storm. My death will be on your guilt stained hands if you don't carefully follow my instructions!"

"...Fine. Be ready." Dial tone. Hopefully I can handle the flurries of white crap coming out of the cloudless sky for a few more seconds. Everything in my bag is soaking wet! How will I explain this one to Mister Lowe (my history teacher)? See, Winter must put a damper on any good thing in my life. It feels the malice desire to keep me miserable, similar to Satan himself. When will God descend from Heaven and bring California hotter climates? Wow, you're thick! You holler towards me. Everyone knows summer comes in June! Of course I know, shut up.

Maybe Steven Tyler could cheer these awfully low spirits. A loud beep beside me caused the endless chain of nagging thoughts to come to a sudden halt. Hope rising, I looked up and frowned. Instead of finding Chris's head popping out of the car window, ordering me to get inside, my nature green eyes peered curiously at a leather wearing oldie trucker preached on top of a gigantic snow blower. Cigarette in mouth, he spit it out upon the covered grass. It burned a smearing hole in my fuzzy vision.

The slightly creepy man wondered, "What are you doing standing in the middle of the road?" Am I really? Usually I pace around aimlessly after pissed off. Mom being irresponsible plus Winter results in one epic fail math problem.

Struggling on the right words to reply, I crossed his path casually. Another embarrassing moment in the life of Sunny. Turning the engine back on, trucker man continued with his business, not bothering to offer me glance. As he slowly but surely passed, where I was recently standing was occupied by some other human being. Whose that devilishly handsome male? Why did I just say that? Out loud? Thank Summer loving God it wasn't, or I'd have to check myself into a insane asylum.

No, really, I never seen him before. Judging by the porcelain features, mystery boy hasn't noticed me gaping. So...pale. Probably the palest person I ever witnessed in California! Wearing nothing but black, he slowly leaned against a parked automobile. Yours truly in the presence of a future magazine model. Wait till the guys hear! Did I also forget to mention I'm in a band? They're absolutely obsessed with guys who have longer hair than theirs. Back to the main topic, the attention grabbing teenager, possibly a freak who thinks he's a vampire, the unique boy of any girl's dreams. Including mine. How did I get all that from a single stolen stare? Magic.

What are the colors gleaming in his eye sockets? Brown? Certainly not. Blue? Too innocent. Green? Nah, it wouldn't match his attire. Hazel? Even worse than brown. Dammit! Do you have any bright ideas? Unless his eyes are golden, which strongly reminds me of sparkly actors and we just can't have that. Black? Woah, if I'm not in the grudge movie...I must be in the Twilight Zone. Winter, you fiend! In times of hopelessness, blame Mother Nature's Jack Frost side!


Mhm. Yes. I sarcastically thank you.

Chris, the mighty bearer of crushing bad omens practically played the drums on Mom's steering wheel. What happened to his car? Is it in the bottom of a black pit? Has it been shipped off to 'Markins Used Cars Shop'? Either way, I don't think I'll ever have a chance to greet my mystery boy considering how Chris scared him off with aggressive car sounds.

"Sunny! Get your ass in the car before you are rushed to the emergency room!" He, as expected shouted to an uncaring world. Wonderful! Now Tall, Dark and Handsome thinks my family needs to take a visit to a doctor! Chris only has a hang over!-Who am I trying to convince? Somebody I haven't met before in my life. You of all readers cannot judge my selfish acts, I bet you'd do the same thing in a situation like this. Face flushed, I ran into Mom's beat up car. Should I glance back? Save myself the humiliation? Despite my brain warnings to let it go, those green eyes of mine were just too eager.


I dreaded that. Thankfully, proof denying any decisions there was daydreaming involved, glistened in the always Californian sun. Two hand prints were clearly drawn across the sleeping car Mister 'I'm mysterious' was leaning on. Big Bro's constant teasing rambled on in the velvet background, me numbly staring out the ice cold window, not yet accepting what has taken place.

I'd be safe and warm

If I was in L.A.

California Dreamin'

"SLOW DOWN! Jesus, Sunny, you almost spilled my coffee!"

Grabbing onto both sides of my best friend's face, I slowly repeated, "You. Will. Not. Believe. What. Happened. Today." She nor any band mates could guess correctly to what has made me so happy on this crappy day.

Jean, lead guitarist frowned, "I'm not going to play some pointless guessing game. Tell us what happened or shut the hell up about it!" Can you tell he's the life of every house party we go to? Maybe Blue Jeans (nickname) decided not to take his sanity pills this morning. Where the freak are we, you ponder? Well-once Chris dropped me off, he dashed off to the drugstore to get some relief from the never ending sickness. I personally invited my band just to recall 'model boy' story. Their reactions weren't what I was used to seeing.

"I met...a guy." A smile twisted its way at the end.

Lash aka drummer addict completely overlooked anything he was doing at that moment, pure shock etched within expression, "Holy shit! Sunny met a guy? Is that possible? The world's ending! Quick alert the fire department and the police! Satan is finally rising!" Very funny. Not many guys entered such a life like mine for one reason only. What? You want to me to spill? Why can't we just leave it at cliffhanger responses? Ugh...fine. I have been...busy. Bullshit.

Atlanta our backup singer grinned encouragly, "Good for you! What's his name? Does he like rock music? What does he look like? Is he from around here? Did you get a couple digits?"

Confession time..., "Well, I didn't physically meet him. But! I DID spy upon him across the snow dusted street! Doesn't that count for something? Bonus points? And replying to the appearance question, the boy probably hasn't had a pimple in his entire days on Earth!" Enough said. Jean did a face palm while Atlanta seemed kinda confused. Lash rolled his heavy deprived sleep eyes. I don't blame them. Would you want to communicate with a slight fan-girl?

"Sorry to break it to you, you're a stalker." Jean stated, as if he knew exactly what he was talking about. NEWS FLASH (clever mock of his vocabulary), he wasn't present at three in the afternoon! He did not see me nearly get run over by a snow blower. Most importantly, he did NOT stare at the beauty God gave to said dude.

Pouting and desiring to crawl into a dark tunnel, I snapped back, "No I'm not! Stalkers-cough, cough, are crazy son of a bitches who were either abused as a child or are too ugly to get married. Therefore, they aimlessly follow their admirable suspects, thus, these 'Chosen Ones' freak out whenever 'Stalker' makes a perverted phone call while they're alone." Does that definition fit me? If you answered yes, leave. I do not tolerate douchebaggery in my memories. 'Accent Over Report' (Band name), gazed at me with utter confusion, rejection and let's not forget, PWNESS. Lash attempted to hide his fragile frame behind the drums, in hopes I wouldn't throw something dangerous at their heads. Besides the point, stalkers have a certain characteristic about them. Usually they have big pedophile glasses, pudgy noses, rotting teeth, unbearable suspenders, comb overs and big white vans to stash the bodies. I, pocess nothing listed above.

Chest length raven black hair unraveled once I removed Mother's old winter cap. See, no fake hair here. Underneath, I could barely make out the glimpses of my neon pink, blue and green epicly awesome coon-tails. Deep brown eyes with decorated green pupils examined my basement disgustingly. Pizza boxes and empty soda bottles were scrambled around the room like musical chairs. An odor that I simply cannot detect for the life of me, floated inside nasty cold air.

Atlanta cracked the awkward shell, "...Why don't we practice?"

"Nah." Mellow choruses rejected.

This silence could go on forever. Maybe I was a little too harsh on the guys, I never even spoken a word to the gothic model! For all we know he could be gay! Or worse! A woman! Suggesting such a thought caused me to chuckle, earning glances from my friends.

I quieted down after awhile, "What if he was actually a woman?" Jean snorted, shaking his head disapprovingly. It might not be a good thing now, however years from now I could laugh every day about how I was attracted to someone of the same gender. Someone of the same team! I'll 'accidently' allow it to slip my mind enough so that I don't tell Chris. He'll go running to Mom, claiming I turned lesbian and she would sit me down and have a long talk about the birds and the birds. (Get it...? Birds are the women...bees are the get rid of the men and you see...)

Lash mumbled, "That would be a total epic failure on your part."

"Hey, that's what I'm here for!"

Jean drunkenly stumbled over to the stereo, blasting no other than 'Walk This Way' by Aerosmith. Steven Tyler! I knew you would save the day! Everyone began dancing, I played air guitar. Any winter, model or woman on woman relationship spark escaped my mind for just a little while.

Stopped in to a church I passed along the way

Well I got down on my knees

And I pretend to pray

You know the preacher likes the cold

He knows I'm gonna stay

California Dreamin'

The band retreated right after the legendary song ended. Chris, was laid out on the couch, sleeping no doubt. Oh Mother of ours cooked till her fingers turned purple. Delicious hamburger smell found it's way through my partly opened bedroom door. Day transformed into night, the weather decreased an already low temperature. Why the heck does Chris have his windows open? He's not in his room! Marching across the 'oh so' familiar hallway, I pushed open my brother's painted black door. Icy knives stabbed me a million times in the stomach. Yes, painful. Wrapping my arms around my torso, two almost frozen doorways to the outside were shut as quick as lightning. Must be crazy, thinking he could kill his whole family. I'll get revenge later. Woah, woah, woah. Wait. Before I bring myself to skip out of the dirty clothes infested room, I'd be delighted to see what exactly is standing on my brother's roof section. It wasn't there a few seconds ago.

Building up the courage, I carefully pushed a small amount of the curtains back, then realizing I am staring straight at a turned back. This back looks so...familiar. Their arms were also in view, two hands linking together. and spiky. and well defined. Composure...mature. Snow gradually sprinkled upon his/her boots. Why aren't I screaming for help? Is there a reason a girl like me is standing still, creepin? Reality wise, whoever decides to take a stroll on a house's roof is the one destined for such a title. I kept staring,-for what it seemed five hours. Not once did creeper move. Dead? Then again, who dies standing up? Ah no, he chocked his head to the side. He? I can tell now.

Just when I least expected it, creeper practically flew to the window I was leaning over. Ahhhhhhhh! If that's not a horror movie stunt, I don't know what is! Although, a face revolved against hard glass, a face too flawless to be called perfection. Him. Model boy. Mystery boy. God's gift, and recently creeper. Since he's here, he must have tracked me down...meaning he noticed me back at school! I nearly screamed with joy, but remembered Man's most special weapon was looking into my very soul. What should I do? Run away? My question needed answering, and he intended on doing so. Model boy tapped once, gesturing me to let him in.

Alright, smart/safe decision making time. Number one, smile, bat eyelashes a bit and continue to let a possible serial killer inside. Number two, run downstairs and call the coppers. Number three, grab the gun I know Chris has under his pillow, blowing the dude to pieces. Number four, pinch myself and hope that I'm dreaming. Tick tock...what's it gonna be? Phone a friend? Fifty/Fifty? Wing it? Sadly, I am horrible at guessing, too stubborn to cross off a choice and my cellphone is unavailable.

"I don't bite."

HUH? How does he know what I'm thinking? And how did I hear him over heavy material. Okay...I have a feeling tonight is my last night on Earth. Goodbye friends, family, not so lovers, high school bitches, mean teachers and especially you, Winter! Don't bother coming to the funeral. My throat about to swell up, couldn't whisper a reply.

He tried another less weird strategy, "Please, open up. It's quite a fright out here." Oh, right. He's a human being, everyone is in need of warmth. Instincts pushed one of the doorways up, creeper gracefully jumped in. Crap. He's more amazing closer.

I finally received my voice back, "What's your name?"

"Gregory Sackville-Bagg." Model Greg smiled, showing pointy white teeth. Damn. He kinda need a dentist! British lad...that explains it.

Joining him on Chris's pathetic unmade bed, I stuttered much to my dismay, "Cool...I'm Sunny Rain Loveride." Gregory snorted at my name, something I'm completely used to. People are jealous that my name is original.

Mister Sackville-Bagg complimented, "Surprisingly, your birth identity is as beautiful as your face. Not so many girls hold that great power." Blush. NO. No. No. Go away. Not the time nor place. I'm supposed to be cool, calm and collected. I can' let an 'angelic' creature see that I'm a nervous wreck by sitting next to him. Gregory placed his hand on my shivering shoulder, automatically putting me under a spell. Spell of evil? Spell of seduction? Does it have anything to do with roofies? Date rape alert! I wish Chris would barge in, resulting for this unusual conversation to cease.

"Why are you here?"

"I simply could not stay away. Some magical force pulled me to you. I'm afraid I obtain good news and bad news. What would you like to hear first, love?" Swoon.

Suddenly feeling like we're in 'Law and Order', I dramatically glared out the still wide window, wishing intense elevator music to arrive for better effect, "Bad, give me the bad. I can take it." A sigh told everything that I need to know. Whatever news Gregory wanted to deliver, might not be favorable on my behalf. I haven't known this kid for more than five minutes, and it's like we've been friends since the beginning of time.

Gregory fidgeted, a habit too native on features belonging to him, "I am a vampire. Yes, I suck blood, yes, human. I may come off as innocent, when in this cruel world I'm probably the most dangerous monster you will ever meet. Vampires need mates, similar to 'living relationships', I'm pretty positive you're my mate, forever intertwined."


I questioned curiously, "If you're a vampire, how were you not burning in the sun's ray earlier today? Explain me that? Why are you making it seem like finding your true love is a bad thing?"

"My guesses are my enemy's defense could not phase my skin, since it glowed a Christmas white, right after spotting you standing in the middle of the road like a deer in a headlight. I thought you would think a long commitment is freedom binding, a trait teenagers absolutely cannot live without-"

If I didn't tell her

I could leave today

California Dreamin'

California Dreamin'

And...stop. Aw, why stop at the most romantic part? There's nothing else to 'read' honestly. Gregory was overjoyed I accepted his offer, disappointed when I didn't let him kiss me. Excuse me, I agreed to be your mate but you need to work for lovin'. I'm not some easy slut you find on a street corner. Forcing the handsome vampire out the window, I had watched him fly away before he shifted into a bat. Chris shortly ran in, making me do a mental scream. Why couldn't he have done that when I asked? Hamburgers were definitely not the highlight of my day anymore.

How does my story end? Gregory taught me to love Winter, a season mostly misunderstood. He revealed the endless beauties, jewels and pure life it gives people deep inside their very core. All crude comments/opinions vanished the day I met the cold supporting vampire. I smiled, pointing out the stars in the freckled spotted sky. His freezing pale hand embraced my pink going numb one tightly, no intentions of releasing. Yeah, Winter had it's perks all along.

A/N: I. Finally. Finished! This Gregory Sackville-Bagg Oneshot is dedicated to Muffinoverdose, who seemed to wait patiently for the arrival of her personalized love story. I hope she likes it as much as everyone else does! Does it snow much in California?...Well in the fantasy land of does xD Hope you enjoyed!