Conner once again gestured for me to follow him, much like how I boarded the ship earlier, except this time we walked down the silver flight of stairs instead of up.

The dock opened up into a wide room lined with dull metal panels, full of several silver ships very similar to the one Conner brought me here with.

I sighed as we passed small groups of people gathering around a select few aircrafts, quietly pointing out to myself their pale eyes. Their irises were so pale that they were nearly white as snow. I found them rather pretty, silently wishing my eyes were pale green opposed to their rather vibrant color.

Conner pulled me down several long hallways that I was almost certain, lined the exterior of the ship in a circle. At least that made the most sense to me.

I nearly laughed out loud as the thought of alien crop circles came to mind. Surely the concept that the layout of this ship related to "alien crop circles" had to be ludicrous.

For the sake of my sanity, I swore off the thought of any alien crop circle, and distracted myself by fiddling with my thumbs.

Conner patted my shoulder playfully as he led me down a short hallway towards a wide double door, lined in silver flowers and delicate glass birds.

"What are you smiling about?" He smirked.

I pressed my lips into a hard line, but as the thought of "alien crop circles" once again came to mind, it became extremely hard to not break into fits of laughter. So, instead, I smiled.

"Nothing," I murmured. "Just entertaining errant thoughts..." I drifted.

"I see..." he drew out, giving me a curious side glance before opening the double doors into a grand throne room.

I stalked cautiously behind Conner as I took in the meticulous details of King Chandler and Queen May's throne room. Like the doorway, it was lined with accents of silver and murals of painted birds against the walls. The Ceiling curved up into a glass dome, revealing the brilliant night sky and thousands of stars that waited beyond the ship's walls. Glass birds shimmered against the stunning glass window, hanging beneath the dome of stars.

Conner silently led towards a rather long glass table sitting in the middle of the throne room.

At its head sat, who I assumed to be King Chandler, though he wore no crown on his head. He was rather bulky with defined muscles that were visible through his white button-up shirt, and had greying tips of dark brown hair on his head and ruff chin.

To his left was Queen May, with her white-blond locks that were pulled back into an elegant braid.

Glancing over their clean appearances, I couldn't help but notice their pale skin, and the light that reflected off of the crystals speckled throughout Queen May's hair.

After approaching the table, with me at least an arms length behind him, Conner respectfully nodded his head in acknowledgement to the King and Queen, before taking a wide step to left so I was in full view for their royal highnesses.

First, I wanted to run. I've never been much to look at with my dark locks of unruly hair and oddly pale skin, let alone my bright green eyes that must scream: "Not normal."

Second, I wanted to scream because I was frustrated that Conner wouldn't take me home, and even more so that he was making me do this. Though somehow the thought that these people manage to be paler than me comforted me.

Third, I wanted to stare at the white patterned tile floor because it brought me more solace than staring at the King and Queen while I knew they were watching me, so I did.

The first person to move was to my surprise the queen.

She stood up, quite literally, to walk over to my hunched form and give me a warm hug.

Now I don't say warm, because she was most certainly not warm; her small body is rather cold, but because I gathered from her comforting smile and the way she squeezed me so tightly I could feel the energy sucked out of me, it was supposed to make me feel warm inside.

However, her gesture seemed to have the opposite effect. I mildly noticed the cool temperature onboard the ship, but after hugging the Queen, the chill that seemed to run up and down my bones became very difficult to ignore.

Not wanting to accidentally offend the queen, I balled my hands into tight fists instead of giving into instinct and wrapping my arms around my body.

"You must be, Elena!" Enthused the Queen, giving me one last squeeze before she pulled away, clasping her hands together into a formal stance.

"Yes," I strained with an odd ring to my voice.

"I am Queen May," she smiled, "And this is my husband, King Chandler," she said, motioning to her husband, who was still sitting at the head of the table.

Reluctantly, he stood from his chair and walked behind his wife, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"It is a pleasure," he murmured with an unusual calmness to his voice.

"As it is mine...your majesties," I mumbled, bowing my head in respect to the humble figures.

Queen May graciously smiled.

"I take it you are enjoying your accommodations? Also, please don't feel obligated to bow or curtsy to me or my husband...you are practically family."

I nearly choked when I heard the word "family."

"Of course..." I muttered warily, briefly pausing to debate whether telling the queen I wanted to leave as soon as possible was rude or honorable because of the truth behind the statement. For the moment, I decided it was rude, against my better instincts.

"Actually," interrupted Conner; of course. "Before arriving, me and Elena were talking about the possibility of her seeing her sister and friend in person."

Crossing my arms harshly, I turned to glare in Conner's direction.

He gave me a small smirk, then turned seriously towards the king and queen.

"Of course," murmured the queen. "We will arrange their meeting for as soon as possible. However, in the meantime, Elena," the Queen said, turning towards me, " Please feel free to explore the ship, and don't hesitate to ask for anything," the Queen smiled.

Speechless, I nodded my head, allowing a small smile to cross my face. The Queen was far kinder than I could have imagined. I was all too sure her kindness would make leaving much more difficult than I had originally thought.

Conner bowed his head and quietly led me from the room into a much wider compartment of the ship, filled with crowds of people passing and talking to one another.

Conner suddenly stopped and placed a warm hand on my shoulder. "I have to go to another meeting, but I think you should be alright on your own?" He asked in a calming voice.

"Yes," I quickly nodded. "But...do you know where a bar...is? I am very thirsty," I lied.

Conner suspiciously grazed over my face, but quickly sighed and pointed to a doorway in the far left corner of the wide, silver plated room.

"Down there, to the left. When you want to head to your room just grab the attention of any worker, tell them your name, and ask for your room. Got it?"

"Yes," I happily smiled, before abandoning Conner to head towards the hidden bar.

Once I reached the open doorway, I smiled in contentment when I saw the long, empty bar, attended by an older male.

The bar, much like the ship, was a dull grey with a glossed over white marble countertop. It was paired with black twisted barstools that were modern and tall.

I slowly made my way to the barstool in the far right corner of the room that was farthest away from the doorway, and sighed as I sunk into soft black velvet.

At first the bartender lingered in the middle of the bar, but eventually, he made his way over to me and handed me a silver tablet that displayed a drinks menu on its screen, not even bothering to ask or check for an ID.

I didn't exactly know the drinking age in space, but given by the dark circles under the bartender's eyes and the way he was leaning his back against the back counter, I was confident he would serve just about anyone, including an underage teenager like myself. Besides, the Queen did say to not hesitate to ask for anything I want. And right now I want nothing more than to drink away my problems.

Unaware of the rather large drinking world, which apparently included whisky, rum, and bourbon, I ordered the first thing I saw on the list, which happened to be a shot of tequila.

I sighed as the spiced vanilla and smoked oak liquid burned down my throat, making my thoughts clear and sharp like a blade.

After downing the shot with thoughts as clear as glass, I quickly decided that tequila wasn't strong enough.

I called over the bartender, despite my reservations on becoming drunk, and asked for something strong.

He didn't hesitate to hand me a half-empty bottle of opened bourbon and a skinny wine glass on the side.

I poured myself a full glass with ease, and downed it, satisfied when my head felt noticeably fuzzier

I continued to pull small sips as I stared blankly at the marble countertop, comforted by its untainted color, only stopping when I felt the barstool to my left shift as an unfamiliar figure took the seat directly next to me.

"Rough day?" A low voice murmured to my left.

"I suppose you could say that," I mumbled against my half-empty wine glass.

I didn't turn to see the figure, but I did hear him order, much like myself, a glass of bourbon.

I smiled at the thought.

"Rough day?" I teased as the bartender gave the man to my left a glass, though upon closer inspection, I realized the figure to my left looked far more like a boy than his voice insinuated.

"You could say that," he sighed.

I smiled in amusement, crossing my arms against the cool marble counter, burying my head into the table.

"Are you alright under there?" He asked, no hint of concern lacing his voice, but rather a tinge of amusement.

I pulled my head away from the counter and peered up into a set of grey eyes.

"I'm alright as I can be," I stated honestly.

He gave me a bright smile and a heartfelt laugh.

"I suppose we are in the same position then."

I crinkled my nose and half-heartedly frowned.

"It sucks."

"It does indeed," he smiled, before raising his empty glass in a toast. "Here's to annoying parents."

A light laugh that rang like a bell consumed my lips.

"Here's to the people...I lost," I slowly murmured, my voice becoming more mellow as I stumbled on the last words.

The boyish figure frowned, with visible concern.

"I'm sorry. I am certain whoever you lost was a good person. They will be dearly missed."

I sarcastically laughed and pulled in another large sip of bourbon.

"They kinda had to be. After all, they were my parents."

He furrowed his eyebrows, letting an "Oh," slip from his tongue.

"Yeah," I sighed. "It's not the best feeling in the world, but I'll live."

He frowned, obviously not happy with my answer.

"But you shouldn't have to," he said gently in a soothing voice.

"Unfortunately, although I appreciate your kind words, I still have no parents, and I have to learn to live with that. Besides, although I loved my parents more than anything...they had to work most of the time so I didn't really get to see them anyway..." I rambled in an attempt to brush off the subject. I really didn't want to discuss my parents' deaths, after all I did come here quite literally to forget it.

He pressed his lips into a firm line, and slowly nodded.

"I understand the feeling of...distant parents a bit too well myself. Though, I don't think that having a distant relationship would make it any easier to lose them," he said softly.

I sighed and stared at the marble countertop.

"It doesn't," I quietly mumbled.

He placed a warm hand on my shoulder and smiled. His hand felt oddly comforting, soothing away the pain that has been hanging at the back of my throat since the morning.

"It's going to be alright," he promised in a sure voice, squeezing my shoulder lightly.

"Thank you," I whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

It was nice to hear from another voice that I wasn't going to combust from pain and mourning. I needed to hear it.

"Your welcome. I suppose it's been rather rude of me to engage in such a heavy and personal discussion while withholding my name," he smiled with a boyish grin.

"I suppose so," I conceded with a smirk.

"James."

'Elena." I smiled.

"Should I walk you back to your room?" He murmured, cocking an eyebrow.

I paused, and glanced over him curiously.

"Would you know where my room is?"

"I am sure we can figure out," he smirked with a confident gleam in his eyes.