Taylor's POV

"You need to get out more," Veronica nagged. I folded my arms at her as I slouched in the couch a little more.

"Is it a bad thing that I like staying home?" I quizzed as I rose a brow.

"Yes," she said. "Put some shoes on. I'm taking you shopping."

"Christ," I groaned as I tossed my head back. "I never liked shopping. Not even with Hayley; what makes it any different with you?"

"Are you made out of grapes?" Veronica asked as she tossed my Converse shoes over to me.

"What the hell? No," I scoffed.

"Really? Because I hear a lot of whining from you." And with that, Veronica walked out the house and went towards the car.

"Ha! You're so funny!" I called out to her, my words full of sarcasm.

We drove to the mall that was nearby, Veronica basically taking me there against my own will. As we entered the mall, I saw a face in there. A familiar face. At least I thought it was familiar. We passed by the person too fast for me to analyze the face, to confirm to myself that it was, in fact, familiar. I tried to brush it out of mind as Veronica pulled me deeper into the shopping center.

"They better have a Hot Topic, at least," I mumbled under my breath.

"What's that?" Veronica asked, obviously hearing my words. I stared at her, shocked.

"Oh, you poor child," I cooed. "Hot Topic is life!" I led her to the dimly lit store made of brick. She frowned a little.

"It's nothing but t-shirts," she complained.

"That's where you're wrong. There's tons of things, mostly from your favorite musicians and bands," I corrected.

"Oh, God..." she huffed. "Look at this!" She held up a Blood on the Dance Floor t-shirt as she cringed at it, like it was gas bomb. "You can easily buy this on E-Bay!"

"Not like that, I don't think," I snickered as I skimmed through some more t-shirts.

"And what about this?" she said, holding up a Fall Out Boy shirt. "I can make this."

"Put it down. Another soul would want it," I said. "Never underestimate the bands; never insult the bands. Fans of bands are a lot stronger than any fan base you'll ever run across."

"What is there to support! Them ruining their vocals with screaming? Or their use of makeup that only consists of black?" she spat. I turned to Veronica, but caught sight of familiar hazel eyes. I forced myself to look over to Veronica again, my attention shifting to the hazel eyes once in a while.

"People support them because the band supports them," I explained. I slowly switched my gaze to the hazel eyes again, being trapped there. "If you listen behind the screaming; if you really listen to the lyrics, you'll know."

"What're you looking at?" Veronica asked, trying to find where my gaze was. I snapped myself out of the trance and looked over at Veronica.

"Nothing," I lied. "Just... thought I saw a shirt I wanted."

"C'mon," she said, taking my wrist and walking me out of the dark haven. "I'm giving you a makeover."

"Repeat?" I asked.

"I'm giving you a makeover," she said again. "I'm sorry, but t-shirts and jeans are just not gonna do it, Mr. York." A pang formed in my chest at the sound of my last name. I swallowed, my throat feeling dry.

"Veronica," I sighed. "I told you already to never call me by my last name."

"And why not?" she asked. "I might be taking it." My stomach twisted in knots at her words.

"Just... don't do it," I said. "It makes me uncomfortable."

"It's your last name, for God's sake," she ranted as she pulled me into an unknown store. She leafed through a rack full of button-up shirts. I rolled my eyes, knowing she was looking for one for me.

"Still, Veronica. Don't call me by my last name unless you're my boss or something."

"I'm not going to argue with you about this," she said as she held a pink shirt up to me. I cringed at it and gently pushed her hand away along with the shirt. Veronica gave me a glare.

"No," I said sternly.

"You look good in it," she coaxed.

"No, I look gay!" Veronica's glare became stronger. "I have nothing against them," I defended. "It's just... I don't look good in... pink."

"Well, it's not pink," she said. "It's salmon."

"No, Veronica. It's pink." A familiar snicker sounded from behind another rack. I looked back, finding no one there.

"Taylor, we're not gonna argue about colors, either. It's salmon."

"Christ, Veronica! It's fucking pink!" I chuckled.

"He's right," a voice said from behind the racks. I knew the voice; I just wasn't sure who it belonged to. "It's pink, ma'am."

"Thank you!" I said to the voice.

"Stay out of it, willya!" Veronica spat. I looked back to the person, finding those familiar hazel eyes peering through the rack. They eyes looked away as they dimmed a little and disappeared as clothes started to drift to the other side of the metal bar.

"Try this on," Veronica said as she gave me the shirt. I nodded, still watching for those hazel eyes. I hesitated to tear my gaze and went into the dressing room to try on the 'salmon' shirt. Just as expected, I looked terrible in the button-up. Veronica kept bringing me more button-ups of different colors to try on; they all looked bad on me.

"It's just not gonna work out," I said as I put my own shirt on. It felt a lot more comfortable than those damned dress shirts.

"It takes some getting used to, that's all," Veronica said.

"I'm not ever gonna get used to it. I'm not getting any of these shirts."

"Fine," she sighed. I left the dressing room and headed towards the exit of the store that was connected to the mall. An alarm sounded from the door by the parking lot. I looked over, finding that the sensors were set off by a girl wearing a gray hoodie.

"Hey, stop right there!" a female security guard demanded as she rushed over to the girl.

"Let's go," Veronica said, pulling on my arm. Something in me told me to wait; that I might know this person.

"Hang on," I whispered, watching the scene. The two talked, the security guard and the customer seeming to have an argument. I wrenched my wrist out of Veronica's grasp and eased over to the scene.

"I didn't take anything," the girl in the hoodie said.

"Yeah, cough it up!" the security guard demanded.

"I didn't take anything! Probably some kind of card or something in my bag set off the alarm. This happens to people all the time."

"Just admit you stole something. I won't do anything if you give it back."

"I didn't take anything!" she repeated. Her voice was familiar.

I walked up to the security guard.

"Excuse me, ma'am," I interrupted. The two looked at me. "She really didn't take anything. I've seen her around the store, keeping a good eye on her and she didn't take anything."

"Then, what set off the sensor?" the guard quizzed as she folded her arms.

"My damn laundry card," the hoodie girl said as she held it up. "I told you!"

"Evidence doesn't lie," I said with a shrug. The guard let out a small, annoyed grumble and walked away.

"Thanks," the girl said.

"No problem," I replied, looking down at her. Her eyes were hazel. Her face looked just like Hayley's. I studied the familiar stranger for a moment. Before I could do anything, she hid her face with the hood.

"I-I'm sorry," she stammered. Her voice even sounded like Hayley's.

"It's... fine," I managed to say.

"Thanks, again." The girl rushed out of the store without another word. I watched her rush to her car until I felt a tug on my arm.

"Let's go, Taylor," Veronica whined. I shook myself out of my stare and followed Veronica to wherever she was taking me.

"Okay," I said blankly.

"You know her?" she asked. I shook my head.

"No," I said, though my stomach created knots, like I was lying to myself. "Just wanted to help her."