It was there, sitting in the park, drawing a perfect portrait of a street pigeon, that I first saw them.
    They were sitting on the playground, the children keeping as far away from them as humanly possible. There were five of them. They weren't talking, or playing, which I thought was slightly ironic since it was after all, a playground. They all seemed oblivious to everything, as if they were all really stoned, so I could stare at them without the awkwardness of one of them staring back. But it wasn't any of these things that caught my attention.
   They didn't look anything alike. Of all of the boys, one of them was rather tall, lanky, and his face was obscured by his orange fringe. Another was a little more bulky, and tough-looking, as if he liked to beat up people for fun and was very good at it. A blonde beard covered his chin and upper lip, and his short blonde hair looked as if it hadn't been brushed in weeks. The shortest of them was tan, with platform boots and very tall spiked hair, in shades of blonde, pink and black. It was almost as if the boots and hair were him compensating for his lack of height. Sitting beside him, twiddling his thumbs, was a man with very plain clothes, but a very large mass of curly, dark blonde hair on top of his head. He was the only one that looked as if he wasn't actually stoned, just merely bored. The last was thin, pale, and had medium-length raven hair that stood on end. He wore a black and white scarf around his neck, and the rest of his clothes were solid black, down to his woman's cropped jacket.
    They were all looking away-away from each other, away from the children in the park, away from anything in particular, as far as I could tell. As I watched, the tall boy rose with his white macbook and walked away with long, quick steps. After I saw him disappear into the Starbucks on the corner, probably in search of an internet connection. I looked back at the others, who hadn't changed despite the departure of their friend.
    "Who are they?" I asked the blonde girl on the other side of the park bench.
    As she looked up to see who I meant-though already knowing, probably, from my tone-suddenly he looked at me, the thinner one, the pale one, the most mysterious perhaps. His strange purple eyes were locked on mine.
    He looked away, more quickly than I could, though in embarrassment I dropped my eyes at once. The girl giggled.
    "That's Bernard Wicken. The short one is Alex Bistro, the blonde is Rob Rimes, and the guy with the 'fro is Todd Ortiz. The one who left is Tommy Thomson. They're all in Poison Of Your Choice." She said with a white grin, anticipating my reaction. Those names, they were odd. I looked at her, puzzled.
    "What's Poison Of Your Choice?" I asked. Her eyes opened wide and she looked at me as if I'd lived under a rock my whole life.
    "You're not from here, are you?" I shook my head. "Figures. Well, POYC is a really famous rock band who are basically the greatest ever. They come here to this little park pretty often. A lot of fans used to mob them here, but the band just ignored everyone, so people stopped trying to come see them. They're really weird, especially Bernard. But he's soooo sexy, and single." She sighed and looked at the purple-eyed boy, and then turned away, as if she remembered that he was a horrible monster or something. "But don't get too excited, he's not interested in the girls around here. They aren't good enough for him." She pouted, and it was obvious that he'd turned her down once or twice in the past.
    "Uhh, sure." I said. "What's up with his eyes?"
    "Contacts, probably. He also has like, vampire teeth. I think he likes to scare people away."
    I nodded quietly, and got up to leave. I stole one last glance at the gorgeous Bernard Wicken, and in silent horror, I noticed that he was staring at me with those curious eyes of his. I dropped my gaze and quickly walked out of the park, the autumn wind combing through my auburn hair, billowing golden leaves around me. I clutched my brown jacket around me and wished that I hadn't worn my cream and brown skirt today. I shivered, looking up at the grey sky.
    It was always overcast here in Vancouver, and it rained too much. I'd only moved here to live with my father after my mom died in a car crash two months ago. My mom and I never really got along and we usually only saw each other in passing when one of us came home and the other left, so it was easier for me to get over losing her. I cried sometimes, but not as much as I thought I should be. A drop of rain hit my nose, and I started walking faster, hoping to get home before it started to pour. I stepped into the street, my head bowed against the wind, and before I knew what was going on, I was being pulled backward, and I fell backwards onto something soft. A large truck passed me, doing about 80km/h, right where I would have been standing If I hadn't been pulled back by...
    "You know, you should look both ways when you're crossing the street. Save me from saving you." Said a rough voice from behind me.
    I turned my head around, and mortified, I realized that I was sitting on none other than Bernard Wicken. I stood up quickly, the smell of old cigarettes lingering in my nostrils from his coat.
    "Ah!" Was all I could manage to say. He grinned widely, showing off the pointy canine teeth that the blonde girl from the park had told me about.
    "A 'thank you' would suffice, but 'ah!' works just as well," He said while getting up and brushing off his black jeans.
    I felt the heat rise in my face and I knew I was blushing.
    "T-thank you... You saved me..." I said quietly half from shyness, and half from almost being mowed down by a truck. My teeth chattered ominously.

    "Here," he took my hand, "let's go get you something warm to drink. You must be shaken up." He flashed me another one of his brilliant, sharp-toothed grins and I felt my heartbeat accelerate.
    "Okay... Thank you though. Really. Thank you."
    He chuckled, his indigo eyes sparkling like beautiful lost stars from some foreign galaxy. "Don't worry about it. Let's get some coffee."
    So, his pale hand still grasping mine, he led me to the Starbucks that his friend Tom-Tommy?- had sulked off to earlier.

    He ordered two coffees that had about six words in the name, some chai mocha frappa-whatchamacallit. As he paid the barista, I couldn't help but stare at him. He was utterly mystifying and incredibly attractive. We waited at the counter for our coffees in silence, him blissfully aware of his surroundings, he was currently watching a fly orbit a lady eating a sandwich. Once we got our drinks, we sat down at a table and made small talk. He seemed like a nice enough guy, for a rock star. I thought he'd be a lot more arrogant. Instead, he was kind, intelligent, and well-spoken. When we were done in Starbucks, he offered to take me back to the band's bus.
    "Well, I'm not so sure," I said timidly. He smiled at me.
    "Don't worry so much! It will be fun!" So we made the three-block walk to the black tour bus. His other band members must have still been at the park, because it was empty when we arrived. Bernard pulled me aside.
    "I've been meaning to do this since I first saw you..." And he planted a kiss on my lips, taking me off-guard. I kissed him back. "But first, before we do anything, if we DO do anything, you have to promise to marry me. I have to save my eternal soul." I agreed happily, because even though I barely knew him, I knew that he was my one true love forever and for always. One thing led to another, and we welcomed the night with a pile of clothes on the floor and the two of us together in his bunk.
    An hour later, Bernard's phone vibrated.
    "Shit, that's Tommy. They're coming back to the bus soon. We're driving to Seattle tomorrow..." He trailed off and looked at me apologetically. I nodded, and rose out of the bed, gathering my clothes and putting them on, one article at a time. He sat up, his blanket pulled up to his waist, leaving his alabaster chest exposed. I leaned in and kissed him.
    "When can I see you again?" He asked me. I half-smiled.
    "Whenever you can." He pulled my face to his and gave me one last kiss, and I put my jacket on and exited the bus, fixing my hair as I walked.

    I never forgot him. Especially 4 months later, when I found out that I was pregnant with his child.
    "This... This is amazing!" He said enthusiastically over the phone, "I mean, it wasn't planned, and it's kind of scary, but still! I'm coming to Vancouver right away!"
    He did come, and for the next 4 and a half months, he stayed by me, In a nice apartment he paid for since my mother had kicked me out of my house. He could barely contain his excitement, always touching and caressing my stomach, laughing whenever he felt a kick. He even started looking healthier. The black circles under his eyes were diminishing, there was a faint pink tint to his cheeks now. We eventually got married, with a lavish ceremony and everyone we knew was there.
    The baby came late one night in the summer. It was a girl! She was born with a rather full head of dark brown hair, and she had Bernard's beautiful purple eyes. We decided to name her Assassin. We thought it was a beautiful, empowering name. Alex fell in love with Assassin, and though Bernard wasn't okay with it at first, he warmed up to the idea of it. Alex would have to wait for her to grow up first, of course.

    And then we lived happily ever after with our big, happy, Mormon family.