~Author's note~
You'll notice this story begins in September 1995. And yes, it is a TnT story. How's that? The wonderful world of re-writing history! I always found it hard to believe and rushed that Todd took Blair back after her betrayal and the miscarriage. Looking back, since he was leaving anyway, they probably should have written him off right there, but they didn't. I started this way back in the Fall of 1997, inspired by watching TNT fall in love right before my eyes. I wondered, what would have happened had they met earlier? So, this is my little version of a history re-write. Also, more than likely I will end up creating a little more history, but that's why it's called fan FICTION. ~s~

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September 1995
New York City
11:30 PM

Get fuckin' lost.

Todd Manning's new mantra spins through his head repeatedly as he wanders the still bustling streets of Greenwich Village. Lost. That's what he was, and that's what he had wanted. A few short weeks ago, he had turned his back on Llanview and its residents and headed for New York City. Making his new home in the 'city that never sleeps' seemed appropriate. Big, large, noisy. Perfect for an insomniac.

Get fuckin' lost.

Never go back. Screw 'em all. All of 'em. The hypocrites who turned down their way too stuck up noses at him. Who says money buys respect? Not for Llanview criminal #1, Todd Manning. Screw every fuckin' person who kept that big goddamned secret from him. Fuckin' Lord heir. Jesus. All his life he wished he wasn't Peter Manning's son, and what did he get for that wish? Victor Lord. Big fuckin' improvement.

Get fuckin' lost.

Forget everything you almost had, before her lies, before her betrayal. Blair had been his only friend. Had given the rapist the Christmas present of her beautiful body. Made him feel human, made him feel like any other guy. Told him she was knocked up, and he had grown to care enough about her to try and do the right thing and marry her. Jesus Christ. What did he get for being Mr. Goddamn Noble? A knife through the back that she twisted in his heart. She had almost paid, too. The knife had reawakened the rapist, wanting to hurt her, punish her for her lies. The vision of his last victim's terrified face floating through his mind had spared her the rapist's wrath. The irony of it all was that he had actually developed feelings for Blair. Love sucks, God, never do it again. Served him right, her betrayal. For being stupid enough to believe he deserved anyone's love. Oh sure, she had tried to explain, saying she had fallen in love with him along the way. He had wanted to believe her. But how could he? Pretty much everything out of her mouth up to the point could be questioned, so couldn't her feelings for him be questioned as well? Fuck it. Doesn't matter. Move on. Got the marriage annulled and got the fuck out of Llanview. Abandoned his newfound family and his business. Had to save himself.

Get fuckin' lost.

Forget about the son you lost. Probably would have been a lousy fuckin' father anyway, role model he had. Didn't deserve it. Jesus, between Victor Lord's genes and Peter Manning's lessons, he and the kid were both screwed. It ate at him. Wanted to kill someone, something, for taking away his chance at rectifying the mistakes of his fathers. Yeah, he'd been scared as hell, but in a way he was sort of looking forward to it. Give the kid everything he never had, give the kid love. Maybe it was a sign. Yet another in a long line that he was worthless, didn't deserve the chance. God, he could just hear Victor and Peter laughing from their graves.

Get fuckin' lost.

Had gotten himself a small apartment in the village. Noisy, insomniac central. Busy. Yeah sure, the Lord heir could afford the fancy uptown hotels, but Todd Manning was no hypocrite. Fuck uptown. Downtown is the place to get lost. Start over.

The night air was warm, a hint of humidity, as he ambled along the streets of the village. Jazz club here, college students from nearby NYU getting laced there. Busy. Distracting. He thought about heading into one of the dark clubs, getting laced right along with them. Building an emotional numbness that even the knives of Llanview's best backstabbers couldn't penetrate. Screw it. Don't give 'em the fuckin' satisfaction.

The architecture of the buildings around him told him he was heading into NYU territory. Just up ahead he could see the flashing neon sign of Java Joe's. Talk about fuckin' genius. The only 24 hour coffee house in the city, nestled right in the heart of the NYU campus. A place for drunks and motivated academics to get coffee at any ungodly hour of the night. Fresh coffee in the middle of the night, his kind of place. He'd been by it several times, hadn't been in. Tonight, though, he had the sudden need for coffee. Was before midnight and he was feeling sleepy, and he had no desire to relive his life in the form of nightmares. Coffee it is.

The times he had been by, he had noticed the activity of the place. Some drunk bastards in a booth, some bookworms trying to study. Everybody minding their own fuckin' business. Lost in their own worlds.

Get fuckin' lost.

The rich smell of coffee hits him as soon as he opens the door. Looking around, he notices a distinct lack of activity that he had noticed on previous nights. Whatever, he still needed his caffeine fix. Walking up to the counter, he notices the eclectic look of the place. Typical coffeehouse, trying to look funky and "above it all" at the same time.

He stands at the counter, waiting. Not needing to look at the menu of 3000 international coffees they had. Jesus, what the fuck happened to Juan Valdez, end of story? He glances impatiently at the girl behind the counter, oblivious to him. Buried in books. Typical. Why the fuck did he seem invisible to everyone? Worthless. Fuck 'em all.

He steps closer to the girl, catching the title of one of her mammoth textbooks. He rolls his eyes.

"Jesus, just what the world needs, another lawyer," he says, making his presence known. The girl's head snaps up. She stands up, pushing a lock of long brown hair that had fallen loose from her ponytail back behind her ear.

"Jesus, just what the world needs, another wise ass," she snaps back, "What do you want?"

He grins slightly at her fire, at her talking back to him. "Large coffee."

"What kind?"

"The normal kind. None of that flavored crap."

She turns around, grabbing a large cup and filling it with steaming hot coffee. Todd grabs and large handful of sugar packets off the counter and stuffs them in his pocket. The girl turns back to him, shoving the large cup towards him.

"Is the service here always so charming?" he asks sarcastically.

She chuckles. "That's the great thing about working the graveyard shift. There aren't exactly a line of replacements waiting for this primo job. I can be as charming, as you say, as I want."

"Good point."

"A dollar fifty for the coffee."

He hands her a ten, his hand out waiting for his change. He grabs it and shoves it in his pocket. The girl immediately dismisses him, turning back to her books. A mere annoyance in her life she had taken care of. Story of his fuckin' life. Whatever.

He stops at a nearby table, sitting down. Pouring about 10 packages of sugar into his coffee. Sugar and caffeine. Who the fuck needs food when you have sugar and caffeine? With this place nearby, he could stay nightmare free, and sleep free, for the rest of his natural born life.

He leans back in his chair, watching people stroll in. College kids in their khakis and polo shirts ordering some coffee he couldn't fuckin' pronounce. Goddamn hypocrites. Like they were too precious for regular coffee. Too good. Well, not him. He knew what he was. Nothing was "too good" for him. The bottom of the fuckin' barrel, that's what he was. The recent events of his life in Llanview had proved that. How nice of the resident hypocrites to remind him. Screw 'em. Screw 'em all.

Get fuckin lost.