Scars are souvenirs you never lose/The past is never far/ Did you lose yourself somewhere out there/Did you get to be a star/ And don't it make you sad to know that life/Is more than who we are.

Thalia had been to the DuGrey’s before. Though at the time she had been seven and rather impressed with anything that was bigger than her. She had hoped that the growth spurts that she had had over the past ten years would have made that particular fascination lay dormant. Apparently it hadn’t because the moment Ethan parked his car in the driveway she’d been in awe. She should have expected it, after all the DuGrey mansion was one of the three largest residences in the Hartford area.

Her own house qualified as a mansion, but it hardly was in the top twenty for size, as was Ethan’s. Dallie’s home was actually just a large house. His father thought that a mansion was just a waste of money filled with unnecessary luxuries. Thalia believed that the house would have been smaller had they not had three children. The Mariano’s only servants were some cleaning maids that came in three days a week.

As for the DuGrey’s, well let’s just say that Ethan and Thalia were greeted by a butler, a British butler to be precise.

“Master Dallas awaits you in the green drawing room,” Claremont, for that was the fellow’s name, informed them.

‘Drawing room?’ mouthed Thalia to Ethan in disbelief.

Ethan shrugged and mouthed back, ‘Lola.’

Ah yes, that one name could explain many eccentricities to anything or anyone connected to her.

When they got there, Dallie was sitting in a green leather chair. The room itself had white walls, trimmed with a dark green that matched the furniture. Thalia spied the title of the book.

“Moved on to Balzac's Eugenie Grandet?”

Dallie started. “It’s for my French Literature class.” He set the book aside. “Any Franklin ideas?”

Thalia and Ethan both looked down at their feet.

Dallie sighed, “I take that as a no, then.”

“We did try,” Ethan spoke up. “But we were feeling rather uninspired.”

“I think I’ll pretend that I believe you.”

They both relaxed and sank down onto the couch.

“How is it here? At Lola DuGrey’s house?” Ethan asked his friend.

Dallie shrugged, “Alright. Though,” his voice shifted into Claremont’s stiff accent. “Lady Lorelai,” his voice shifted back to normal. “It a royal pain in the ass.”

Thalia guffawed, “He doesn’t actually call her that does he?”

“Yes, he does. For once, though, I don’t think Lola’s vanity is the reason,” he paused. “Well it is but not at her own instance. She gets him back by calling him Clare.”

Thalia was in the process of rolling her eyes when the door opened and Lola sauntered in. She barely gave Thalia and Ethan a look, and her attention was focused solely on Dallie.

“They can’t stay.” Oh so she had actually noticed them in the room.

This announcement, of course, put Dallie on the defensive and he stood up abruptly. “Why not?”

“Because Rory’s coming over,” Lola replied, leaning against the wall.

“So? It’s just your mother.”

“It’s also just my house and I say they go,” Lola leveled her gaze onto him.

He sighed; it was useless to fight with especially when he hadn’t planned on Thalia and Ethan staying for dinner anyway. “Fine.”

She grinned, pleased at having won so easily. “Spectacular. I had an idea to run by you for The Franklin but I think it can wait.” She was out the door in less than thirty seconds.

“She finally gets around to being on the verge of helpful and then she disappears,” Dallie just shook his head.

There had to be at least five different Lola’s, of this Dallie was sure. There was Sullen Lola, which was apt to come out and play whenever Rory Gilmore was near. Sullen Lola was short of temper and prone to glare. Then there was D.G. Lola, short for Daddy’s Girl and that, obviously, came out whenever Tristan was around. This Lola was sugar and spice and everything nice. At school there was Studious Lola, who was quiet while taking notes, studying or during a lecture, but also had a tendency to speak up during discussions and add intelligently to them. This Lola was the reason why she was in the top five percentile of the junior class. Icy Lola seemed to be attracted to Dallie, seeing as this was the Lola that usually was around him. He probably knew Icy Lola the best, she was regal, haughty and looked down at everyone else. Then there was, what seemed to be Lola’s personal favorite and not to mention the biggest bane of his existence, Seductive Lola. Seductive Lola first was introduced to him when they were thirteen and she had returned from California, where she had stayed with her mother who was on assignment for the summer. She came back tan, slightly developed and wore a whole new wardrobe. She had struck his seemingly worldly fifteen-year-old brother dumb. Devon had been wrapped around her finger ever since. None of these various Lola’s had prepared him for Withdrawn Lola. All the other Lola’s were bold, and ever so daring, not to mention the great deal of spirit they contained. This Lola seemed to just be empty. Void.

It struck him as the meal progressed that he hadn’t actually seen Lola with both her parents since Rory and Tristan had divorced. So that meant he hadn’t seen Lola interact with both her parents for a decade. Not even the sharpest knife could cut through the tension that had formed ever since the four of them had gathered into the DuGrey’s rather large dining room.

At least the food was good.

“So, Dallas,” Rory was saying after the silence had stretched on for so long it was almost unbearable. “When are Paris and Jess returning to Hartford?”

“In their last letter they had said they hoped they wouldn’t be kept for longer than two weeks more,” He replied, immediately shoving some more food in his mouth, not wanting to really be in conversation.

“They always hated being separated from you three,” Rory commented, her eyes focused on her plate.

Silence resumed.

Another five minutes passed and Rory attempted conversation with her daughter. “What are your plans tonight, Lo? Maybe we could go shopping…”

“I can’t,” Lola replied, she looked over at Dallie. Damned, he had a feeling he was about to be used. “I promised Dallie that I’d help him with some Franklin ideas.” She dared him to refute and in all honesty he couldn’t actually say that they had no such plans, considering she had mentioned that she had an idea she wanted to tell him later. “We’re running behind because the meeting didn’t go so well this afternoon.”

“What happened?” Tristan spoke up, which had to be the first time he had spoken since Rory had arrived.

Lola waved it off. “Nothing of importance. Just a little slacking after vacation.”

Dallie smothered the urge to snort at her lie, he settled for a glare instead.

Silence resumed.

This had to be the longest dinner of Dallie’s short life.

“Would anyone like desert?” The maid, Haley, asked, causing everyone to start at the noise of sound.

Lola shook her head, Rory politely declined, as did him and Tristan.

Rory turned to Tristan, “Can I talk to you in the study?”

Tristan nodded as he stood up, “Of course.”

Lola shoved back her chair and left the room abruptly. Dallie followed, because the situation was so weird and awkward he wasn’t exactly sure what it was that he was suppose to be doing.