Disclaimer: I do not own anything other than my character and this idea. It all belongs to the wondrous and talented James Dashner. :3

Chanelle sits in her hammock, slowly swinging herself and looking at the remains of the dark night sky. She doesn't feel like sleeping, so laying awake it is.

The first rays of golden sun rains down to the Glade, covering everything it touches with a hint of yellow, like the color of a sunflower. The Glade looks amazing at dawn, the air is as refreshing as the summer breeze. Chanelle decides to wander around a bit.

Chanelle walks through the grassy green field heading for the Deadheads. The trees has a calming aura coming from them and she feels at ease in the midst of tall green trees.

As Chanelle is walking, she sees Minho standing in front of the close doors getting ready for running along the corridors of the maze. He jogs in place for a while as the doors from all sides open in sync, and he comes hurling himself into the twisted halls of the Maze, possibly looking for an exit.

Chanelle sits on the log from yesterday watching as dawn unfolds in the Glade. The Glade is beautiful, but it is also a prison. Who would want them stuck here? Well, as Newt says, it is the Creators.

After a few moments of silence, some boys comes out of Homestead, stretching and walking to their respective places for work signaling the start of the day. Chanelle sees Newt walk out of Homestead heading for the Gardens. She thinks she will just stay here for a while.

Chanelle's POV

The Glade looks amazing from the Deadheads. I enjoy the moment of serenity before it's interrupt by the bloody shank Newt.

"Hey greenie, you still have to try out the jobs," Newt calls out, walking in my direction after doing something near the Gardens.

"Call me by my name, Newt. And, what jobs?" I say as he reaches the log. I'm calling it the Log. I know, creative name.

"Of course you're gonna work. What are you gonna do, sit here doing nothing?" Newt says jokingly with a hint of sarcasm.

"Actually, it's called thinking and not doing nothing. Definition, it is the action of using your mind to produce-"

"Okay stop. But you have to try the shucking jobs." He interrupts me.

"Fine, fine. So what's the first job?" I ask. He smirks.

"Slicers."

Being a Slicer is a pretty bad idea. It's gruesome, and everything in this place--- the Bloodhouse--- smells horridly of blood. The other half of the job is not as much better than it's other half. I don't know why Winston--- the Keeper of the Slicers--- like it. I knew that the Bloodhouse is that bad from the moment I first heard it's name.

"So how's the job?" Newt asks me with a smirk as I sit in our table in the Homestead. I glare at him.

"Shuck it, Newt. I'm hungry and that's not my idea of living my life here," I say and attack my sandwich. He laughs.

"Not up for the job, huh?"

"Yeah. I might have imagined slaughtering you a while ago, but that's not happening right?" I say.

"Not a chance, greenie," he replies.

"It's Chanelle, shuckface," I say with a frown.

"You sound pretty good with our slang," he compliments.

"I guess it sounds nice," I allow.

"Next job then," he says.

"What?" I ask.

"You don't like being a Slicer right? Then next job is..."

He leads me from a job to another. I like none of the jobs and I either excel or fail on it miserably.

"You have to have a job unless you want to be a Slopper," Newt says as we both sat on the log.

"You mean someone who doesn't fit in anything?" I ask. He nods.

"And gets the worst jobs like scrubbing the toilets-"

"If there is anything I remember from my previous life it's that I don't like scrubbing toilets." I cut him off.

"Good that. Let's go."

And so I run away from Newt with my sandwich still in between my teeth because who wants to be a bloody Medjack? I tend to be very violent at times.

"Get your shucking ass back here!" He yells as he runs after me.

"No flippin' way!" I yell back and run faster. I run across the Glade, earning amused and curious looks from the Gladers.

So then, I ran blindly which was a mistake. I run into Minho who had just arrived from the Maze. I fall on top of him. He grunts.

"Whoa greenie, calm your shucking self," he says as I hastily stand up. I offer my hand to him to which he gladly accept. I was going to run again when I feel someone hug me from behind. I freeze on the spot.

"You little bugger," Newt whispers to my ear with his thick accent. I roll my eyes playfully as I relax.

"If you're taking me to work then I might as well run away from you," I say.

"So wait, you're both a thing now?" Minho questions with a smirk. I look down to see Newt's arms around my waist. He quickly withdraws with his face as red as a newly harvested tomato. I feel blood rush to my cheeks so I'm probably blushing to. I try to control my blush.

"No!" We both shout in sync. Minho rolls his eyes sarcastically.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, slintheads. And it's only been a day," he says with a playful grin. He looks at me and he grins wider. "And I say you can be a runner, greenie."

I ignore the fact he called me greenie. I look at him with shock and excitement etched in my face."What?"

"What?" Newt repeats with an expression that I do not understand why. "It's not safe out there!"

"What's safe anyway? The Glade just gives temporary safe, not lifetime safe." I reason.

"I'll talk to Alby about it." Minho walks past me but stops when he rests his hand on my shoulder. "See you tomorrow, greenie." And he takes off to the Homestead with incredible speed.

I blink. "Don't call me greenie!" I sigh when I hear him laugh.

"I don't allow it," Newt frowns as he folds his arms stubbornly. I roll my eyes.

"When the bloody shuck did you become my mom?" I say.

"You know it's dangerous out there," he replies with a glare, ignoring my remark. I glare back.

"You're not my mom, okay? I do what I want to do with my life and you can't do anything about it," I say and fold my arms stubbornly like he did. If this is the only way I can go out there, so be it.

"Fine. But once you get injured I'm not gonna let you out the shuck maze again. Ever," he says firmly. Newt's being over protective or whatever that's called. And it's barely even a day.

"Whatever," I reply and walk back to Homestead. I hear Newt's footsteps, who seems to be following. I shrug.

Alby walk to me with an amused smirk as soon as I enter the kitchen. "Heard you ran across the Glade again with Newt in your tail." I shrug.

"I don't really like these jobs at all," I say as we both sit down on a table.

"Which is why I'm telling you you're gonna be a runner," he says. I slam the palms of my hand on the table as I stand and lean towards him with excitement.

"Really?"

"Yep. You start a week from now."

"Awesome!" I punch my fist to the air. I see Newt from across the kitchen with a disapproving look in his face. Before I can call him, he turns away and walks outside.

After some talk with Alby, I was now a Runner. He said that I should try all, and he means all (which means also the boring ones), of the jobs. Well, I still have a week before my try-outs so might as well try it.

Newt is clearly is not happy with Alby's decision. He won't even looking at me when I call him after dinner.

"Hey Newt," I say when we arrive at the Log. He doesn't budge. "Hey."

"Why do you even have to be a bloody runner?" he grumbles.

"Because I don't like being stuck inside this shuck walls," I answer softly. We are sitting at the log, away from the blatant noise by the Gladers having fun for the night.

"Hey. Newwwt," I say, prolonging the w. He sighs and looks me in the eye. His eyes were shining in contrast of the darkness around us and the light of the 'moon'. Then it hit me he was almost to tears.

"Please promise me, Chanelle that you're not gonna die out there," he says seriously. I stare at him. It was heart wrenching to see him almost to tears. In one quick motion, I hug him catching him by surprise.

"Gee, have some trust on me. I won't die, okay? I'll always come back. You're thinking way too much, Newt," I say as I nuzzle my face on the crook of his neck. I feel his arms return the hug and pull me closer.

"Sorry," he mutters.

"Don't. Say. Sorry. If there's one thing that I remember, I hate it when people that are important to me says sorry for some dumb reason," I scold him. I felt him suck his breath and let it out.

"Okay, I'm sor- okay."

We sit hugging like that for a few seconds before letting go.

"I'm important to you?"

"Don't push your luck, Newt." I glare threateningly. He laughs.

"Want to get something to drink?" Newt asks.

"Not Gally's secret recipe again," I reply with dread and certainty. "That really tasted weird. What's in it anyway?" He laughs.

"Not really sure, greenie," he slips his hand to mine. I feel a slight blush arise to my cheeks but I smile at him and ignore the fluttering feeling in my stomach.

"Don't call me greenie, slinthead."

He ignores me and we walk back to the Homestead hand in hand.

As we near the Homestead we let go. It was kind of disappointing but I don't really want to be tease. Neither does Newt. And Minho's sassy sarcastic.

"Heard about the great news," Minho says as Newt and I walk towards him. "Nice to have another runner."

"I'm in your care, shuckface," I say and slightly punch his arm.

"Shuckface? Or do you mean sexy?" He poses, showing off his 'curves'. I roll my eyes.

"I meant stupidly dumb, sorry," I say.

"That's inaccurate."

"Really? How about dumbly stupid? Or wait..." I grin. He looks at me nervously. "I think I'm calling ya hoe."

Newt chuckles as Minho tries to process what I said. Then it clicked. I'm already running away.

"Chanelleeee!" He yells as he comes after me.

"Hoeeee!" I yell back, running towards the Deadheads. Hah, one point for Chanelle.

WICKED

Thomas slams his hands in front of the monitor. For a brief moment, Thomas almost punch the screen. But it soon comes to see that he was really jealous. He wants to hold Chanelle in his arms enveloping her in a warm hug and kiss her. But he has to wait. W.I.C.K.E.D. has a plan. They always have a plan.

Will he even remember her when he comes to the maze?