Daddy #1

Well, let me start off by introducing myself. My name is Loryn Roberts. I'm twenty-three years old, and yes, this is my natural hair color. I have a real talent for music and painting, and while those can be great ways to make money, what I really want is to be a housewife. Strange dream, right? But that's what I want. I want a family to love and care for, that will love and care for me in return. So I'm in search of the perfect man - or any man, really - who will give me what I want, what I need.

This is me. I'm quite a sight, aren't I? With my bright blue hair and pale-ish skin. I used to get a lot of weird looks in middle school, but I stopped caring once I got into high school. People are jerks anyway, so it's best not to talk to them.

I made my decision about my future right after graduation. So I moved out of my parents' house and into my own. It's a cozy little one bedroom, and while it is a bit cramped, there's enough room for all the essentials as well as my easel. That was important. The downside was, it came unfurnished, so I'd spent most of my savings to buy a bed, sofa, two chairs, a dresser, and a couple of bar stools - not to mention adding light fixtures to everywhere but the kitchen and bath.

I hadn't been there long when I noticed my next door neighbor outside his house getting the paper. I thought I should be neighborly and introduce myself, but by the time I made it outside he wasn't there. I managed to find him around back, reading the paper at a small patio table. When he noticed me standing there, awkwardly twirling my hair around my finger, he folded the paper and stood up to greet me.

"Hi there. I'm sorry to just drop in, but I saw you outside and thought I should introduce myself... I'm Loryn Roberts, your new neighbor. Well, obviously, since you've never seen me before, I mean, not unless you've been creeping on me or something..." I bit my lip to stop my ramblings. I tend to do that when I'm nervous. And he was really cute. Too cute for a girl like me...

He laughed a little and shook his head. "No, you're right, I haven't seen you before. I definitely would have recognized you with that hair." I blushed profusely, an excuse about the blue already forming on my lips, when I realized he was smiling in a way that didn't seem mocking or insulting, but more amused and intrigued. "Well, Loryn Roberts, it's nice to meet you. I'm Parker Weston." He definitely looked like a Parker. We talked for a while longer - I don't remember much of the conversation, I was too busy trying to figure out the exact shade of his eyes - when he finally invited me into his house. It was cozy, like mine, and nicely decorated. It wouldn't be my dream home, sure, but it was cute.

 "So, what do you do in your spare time?" Parker asked once we'd settled in the little kitchen/dining room area.

"Painting and playing the guitar, mostly. I read occasionally, but mostly it's because I need inspiration for my paintings." I explained rather bashfully. I don't like to talk about my art; it's like a part of me, and exposing that is just... uncomfortable.

"No way! I play guitar too!" Parker exclaimed excitedly, and there was a moment where we both jumped for joy - me literally, he figuratively (I'd have to question his sexuality if he'd really jumped for joy). "Are you thinking of applying for a job at the theater? I work there, so I could pull some strings, get you in." He offered, genuinely excited at the prospect of my working there.

"You know, that would be great! I could always use a job, and it'd be nice to put those skills to use." We talked some more about the theater - Wilsonoff Community Theater, I think Parker said - and what the job would entail. "Why don't we go back to your place, and we can fill out an application?" I agreed eagerly - perhaps a little too much, but Parker didn't seem to notice.

It didn't take long to fill the application out, and afterwards Parker sealed it in an envelope while I offered to make dinner. It was the least I could do since he was helping me get a job. "So, what do you plan on doing in the long run?" I asked while I got out the cutting board and began making dinner.

"I want to be a rock star," Parker explained kind of defiantly. He probably expected me to tell him that that was a foolish ideal, that he should focus on something more realistic. But he seemed like the kind of guy who could make it big. "What about you?"

And this is where I hesitated. I don't normally tell people my "I want a big family" dream, as it kind of freaks them out. Let me explain. When I say a 'big' family, I mean at least six kids. Preferably more. But as most people can't handle more than a couple of kids, I simply say, "I want to be a housewife," and shrug a little.

I heard the bar stool scrape back and before I knew it, Parker was standing next to me. The look in his eyes was peculiar, but it made my heart beat faster than it ever had before. "That's kind of hot," He murmured with a flirty grin, and I couldn't help but melt a little. He had a voice that could melt an iceberg. Who wouldn't be attracted to that?

 "Really?" I giggled a little crazily, giddy at the compliment. He was so nice, nicer than any neighbor I've ever known. "Parker, I just want to thank you for being so nice to me. I don't know what I'd do without your help. You're really helping me get a good start, and I'm just really grateful to have met you..." Before I could embarrass myself even further, I gave him a big hug to show my appreciation.

"Anything for a pretty lady like yourself," Parker grinned after I stepped back. He brushed my hair behind my ear, and I found myself thinking, Maybe he could be the one! Wouldn't it be something, two artists starting a family together? He must have seen something in my face, because before I knew it, he'd kissed me. And, well, one thing led to another, and. . .

It was very late by the time we wore ourselves out, but Parker insisted we head to the theater to drop the application off anyway. Since I had raw talent, but had never taken any lessons, he suggested he teach me the basics while we were there. I had a guitar that I brought from home, so he used the one in the music room to teach me.

As we walked into the theater, I couldn't help but feel that something major was going to happen soon. For better or worse, things were about to change drastically.