Ari pov
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*Episode 1: "Welcome to crestwood
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I didn't ask for a fresh start.
But I didn't complain either.
After everything Mom went through with the divorce, I knew she needed this. A new country. A new home. A new chance.
So, when the SUV pulled up in front of our house in *Crestwood, Australia*, and the moving team began unloading my bags.
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As the movers hauled the last box in, I finally stepped outside for some air—hoodie off, lips glossed, and shades on even though the sun was already setting.
I wasn't trying to impress anyone. But still…
A black *crop top* hugged my waist, paired with *high-waisted ripped jeans* that made my legs look like they walked straight off a music video.
My edges? Laid.
My nails? Clawed.
Slides? Designer knock-offs—but who was checking?
I smirked. "I came to slay, not to blend."
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Two men carried my suitcases inside my room, Mom spoke cheerfully to the neighbor across the street. She looked lighter here, like she could finally breathe again.
"New home, new chapter," she said, glancing at me.
I gave her a small smile. "Let's hope this chapter doesn't suck."
She laughed. "That's the spirit."
I didn't hate the place.
I just didn't trust it yet.
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The move hadn't been easy, but Mom? She handled it like a queen.
All thanks to *Aunt Sia*—her best friend and the sharpest lawyer I'd ever met. She wasn't just good in court; she was ruthless when it mattered.
She made sure Dad signed the divorce papers *and* handed over half of everything—property, savings, even the lake house. Mom didn't even have to beg.
"I'm not letting him walk away clean," Aunt Sia had said, her voice cool and dangerous. "He chose this mess. He can pay for it."
I remember sitting there, quiet, arms crossed.
*Should I even call that evil man my dad?* The thought burned in my head. After everything he did—how he left us without looking back—I didn't think he deserved the title.
Watching Mom rebuild her life, watching her smile again—it made something bloom in me.
And I'd walk through fire before I let anyone hurt her again.
M
She wasn't just my mother. She was my role model, my rock.
I'd go through a hundred moves, a thousand new cities, if it meant seeing her this strong.
*✦✦✦*
An hour later, I lay on a box in the middle of my mostly empty room.
Unopened bags sat by the wall. My clothes were still zipped up tight.
I wasn't in a rush.
I liked watching a room before claiming it.
The walls were a soft grey. One big window looked out over the street. The neighbors' house was directly across — large and modern with dark glass and a black car in the driveway.
I wondered if they had kids. A boy my age, maybe? Or worse — a peppy girl who loved baking ugh.
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As I sipped from a juice box and dragged my hoodie off my shoulder, there was a knock at the door.
Mom opened it—and there she was.
*Mrs. Hunter.*
The woman was absolutely glowing. Long black curls bounced past her shoulders, her skin looked like warm caramel kissed by gold, and her makeup? Subtle but flawless. Dressed in soft cream pants and a flowy blouse, she looked like she had just walked off the set of a skincare commercial.
"I'm Mrs. Hunter," she said with a gentle laugh. "Call me Carla, please. I live next door. Thought I'd welcome my new neighbors."
She handed over a tray of baked goodies, but I was too distracted staring at how her eyes sparkled when she smiled.
*If the mom looks like this…* I thought, blinking slowly. *How the hell does her children look?*
A soft laugh almost escaped my lips.
Mrs. Hunter turned to me. "You must be Ariana."
I smiled—automatically—and of course, my *dimples* popped out like they had a mind of their own.
"Hi! I'm *Carla Hunter*, from next door," she said warmly. "I saw the moving truck and thought, hey—who doesn't need sugar after a move?"
I nodded. "Hi."
"I've got a son your age—*Blaze*. He's a senior at Crestwood High."
Blaze. That name sounded… intense. But I kept quiet.
They chatted like old friends—talking about messy divorces, teenage moods, school enrollment forms, and microwave dinners.
It was the first time I saw Mom laugh like that in weeks.
Before Carla left, she turned to me and said gently, "If you ever need anything—or just someone to complain to—I'm right next door, okay?"
"Thanks," I said, and I meant it.
She gave Mom a quick hug. "We're doing a little welcome dinner soon. You both have to come."
Mom beamed. "We'd love that."
*✦✦✦*
That night, Mom and I curled up on the back patio, sipping cheap tea from chipped mugs.
That night, I curled up on the back patio with Mom and two mugs of tea. The stars looked different here—brighter, maybe. Or maybe I was just less tired.
"Today went well," Mom said. "Even Mr. Hunter seems nice."
"Yeah. It was a good day."
She looked at me, serious. "You okay with everything?"
I nodded. "I'm not mad. I know why we left."
Her face softened. "You're stronger than you know."
We sat in silence for a while. The air was cool, the night calm. A new chapter had started—and for once, it didn't feel scary.
*✦✦✦*
Later that night, in bed, I pulled the covers up to my chin and stared at the ceiling.
New school tomorrow.
New people.
New everything.
I gave her a nod. A polite one.
But inside, I felt the weight of it.
Because I was alone.
No friends.
No familiar faces.
Just me, a suitcase, and a city that didn't know my name yet.
That night, as I lay in my new bed staring at the ceiling, the house felt quiet. Too quiet.
No sound of laughter or texts lighting up my phone.
Just me and the silence.
I scrolled through Crestwood High's Instagram page. Everyone looked… perfect. Like they belonged.
And me?
I wasn't sure where I fit in yet.
But something in my gut whispered—*this place is about to change everything*.