The Reason Why (SAMPLE ONLY!)

One

Note: A picture above of the main character portrayed by the handsome Sebastian Stan. Meet Kyle Elliot!

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The breeze was smooth and clean while I drive through the highway. There were rows of trees lining up on each side of the road. The green vegetation cooled the bright sunny day. The only sound I heard was the engine of my slightly beat up Ford truck. It was a long drive in the I-94 W getting to my destination. I only stopped for gas, water, and bed and breakfast for a few hours of sleep. Two days had passed since I left home. Over the wintery mountain, the sun was slowly setting and brought my journey to a close. On the right side of the US-2 road was the name of the town I would be residing until things died down. Whitefish, Montana, a town with a population of around six thousand plus, it was the kind of place you vacationed or planned to raise a family. In my case, it was a great place to hide from a certain socialite group.

When I reached downtown, I got lost looking for the house where I supposedly stay. It was stupidity on my part for being confident in finding the place by memory. I didn't want to go around asking bystanders for direction. Even with how I looked, there was a one percent possibility someone could identify me, which a chance I took for moving across the country. I should be cautious with whom I associated while staying in town. One wrong move and I had to start again.

I kept on driving in circles, taking uncalculated turns to refresh my memory. From what I remembered on my secretary's detailed sketch, it was on the third block from Central Avenue – which is downtown - towards 3rd Street. About ten minutes passed and still haven't found the house; I turned back towards downtown to start again. In defeat, I parked the car at a pavement in front of a bakeshop to ask direction. Contemplating, I studied the shop with scrutinizing eyes, watching people getting in and out of the door. There was a handful inside, which wasn't good to start my appearance on a first day. With a sigh, I started the truck and pulled away.

I stopped in an intersection from the bakeshop. My eyes grew wide at the name on a street sign from my right. A smile broke in my grim expression and felt like lady luck had heard my plea. I continued driving on the street where wooden houses lined side by side. It was on the third intersection when I found a moving truck on the right side of the road. I lightly hit on the breaks. My head slowly shook in amazement. Then I ogled at the truck outside a white picket fenced house with poorly trimmed lawn. The house was simple and ordinarily familiar like most suburban houses. I noticed the neighboring structures had a similar design.

But my attention didn't linger long. From the recognizable man standing beside one of the moving employee, relief washed over me when my best friend noticed my arrival. He waved his hand in recognition. I parked the truck on the curb and jumped out to meet him.

I grinned while studying the casual look my friend, Luke Bailey, was sporting. He traded his Armani suit with a white shirt, underneath a long plaid polo, ragged denim jeans and hiking boots. His blond hair was tussled up, not bothering to comb it this morning. But who was I to judge. I took a quick shower since I left my last bed and breakfast yesterday. We were nowhere near looked like we're ready for a business meeting.

"Did you get lost?" Luke asked with an ear splitting smile, making me arched my eyebrow in question from his uplifting mood.

"Was it that obvious?" I countered smugly.

"I told you to bring the GPS with you. But no, you had to be stubborn and confident in times of need..." he mockingly stated while trying - and failing - to imitate my voice.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's not recount the past and settle on the now," I brushed off his words and close the distance between us to give him a quick one-handed hug. "I supposed you started unpacking while I'm trying not to get lost," I stated after letting go, studying the moving crew carry boxes inside the house.