You were in a large mansion in Boston, the year is 1936, and the occasion is...well, you weren't sure. All you knew is you wanted to get away. It was so exhausting, being 16 in a large party of mainly adults. Ridiculous. You'd managed to break away from the mass of people onto the balcony of the second floor. You leaned on the railing, arms resting on the ornate marble. A voice calls behind you. Hey. You got tired of everyone too? You turn around to see a boy of your age, perhaps a year older. He was blonde, and his charming blue eyes were framed by freckles that dotted his nose and cheeks. He came up next to you and sat on the railing next to you, smiling cheerfully. I'm Alexander. Call me Alex.