Once Jade had left them, it was up to Mitena to decide what to do next with her Stargirl. She could easily take her back to bed and satiate the burning hunger that had grilled her from the moment she laid eyes on her alabaster beauty. Yet she wanted more. As the seconds turned to minutes and the minutes to hours, Tena became more and more sure of the fact that what she was feeling for Natalia was far beyond just sexual attraction and interpersonal chemistry; it was written in the cosmos. It was something made by the Creator's design. She wanted to-- no, she needed to know more about the gift of a girl that the stars had given her.

With that in mind, the young, doe-eyed girl looked towards the raven that had nested above them-- the raven she named Charlie-- and followed it. Without letting Natalia in on her crazy notion, Tena took the Italian girl onto her bike and followed the herald of truth through Blue Hill on her bike and into the woods. Tena finally lost Charlie when her bike reached a clearing, one that she barely even remembered. She had been to it as a child but had forgotten it even existed. It was small, nestled away in the privacy of the mountain's shadow and it was all theirs: Mitena and Natalia’s own private hiding place.

Settling there for the morning, the singer took hold of Tal’s hand and led her towards the cliff’s edge; overlooking the Reservation and all the people on it. She positioned herself behind the girl with galaxies in her eyes and wrapped her arms around her small waist. Tena kissed the spot below Natalia’s neck and between her shoulder blades with a content moan. “Like what you see?”

With the topic of Charlie left behind in Adora’s kitchen, Natalia was trying to do as she had the previous night and focus on the present rather than on anything else clouding her mind. Thankfully, with company as special as Mitena, distracting oneself from the gloomy thoughts previously permeating her mood was a task quite easy to accomplish. And the amazing view of the luscious Blue Hill greenery stretching out in front of them in this desolate, little piece of mountain heaven certainly helped shift the Italian girl’s mindset into something more positive.

Mitena’s kisses sent shivers down Natalia’s spine. She had always been a fan of physical displays of affection, so it felt nice to experience them again with someone she was quickly growing to care about. At the native girl’s question, Tal shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. I guess it's okay. I think it could be better," she observed with a feigned lack of amusement, a smirk playing around the corners of her mouth as she turned around and switched places with the other woman. Instead of her standing in front of the breathtaking backdrop, Tena was now in the center of the canvas of the work of art in front of them. "There. That's better," she commented in satisfaction with a wide smile, taking a moment to marvel at the beautiful sight in front of her before closing the distance between them, cupping the other girl's face in her hands and kissing her lips.

Tena gave herself completely to Natalia’s embrace, losing herself in the kiss. She slipped her tongue between her lover's lips whilst tracing her fingernails down her back. The silence around them did nothing but charge their moment of bliss, the world around them with all of its problems and fears fading and disappearing into the trees to be stolen away by the restless spirits of the wood. There was magic carried on the wind when Mitena was with Natalia. She had all but given up trying to find some logical explanation for what was happening between them. Her entire life, Tena had been told about good and bad medicine, white and black magic, karma. She had never been a full follower of her tribe's teachings but she had always been open to it, always willing to believe. Natalia, she made her believe.

Coming up for air from the throes of passion, Mitena’s dark gaze drifted from Tal’s full kissable lips and across her cute freckles, up to those damned green eyes and she smiled softly, drinking in her beauty. “I couldn’t dream of anyone more beautiful.” With their noses lightly grazing, Tena brushed her thumb over Natalia’s lips and gently leaned their heads together. “This is something, right? You and me?”

The Belmonte girl nodded. "It's more than just 'something'," she reassured her lover with a small laugh, getting her point across with another fleeting kiss. "I haven't felt this way about anyone in… Well, in a while, actually. Probably not ever. But at the same time, and I hope you don't take this the wrong way, I don't want to just rush into things and mess everything up, you know? I don't want either of us to get hurt here."

Mitena understood. She was human and had gone through the pain of heartbreak before. Whatever was happening between her and Natalia was exciting, new and intense. It was a different breed of special that needed nourishment, care and most of all, time. She nodded her head to show that she was with Tal, that she was on the same page and stood on the same hill. “I don’t know, sometimes pain can be a little pleasurable.” Tena coyly teased before playfully nipping at Natalia’s bottom lip.

The Italian girl chuckled into the kiss, amused by Tena’s flirty comment. “I guess you have a point there,” she chortled, copying her lover by momentarily capturing her lower lip between her teeth.

Taking a few steps back, the native girl reached down with her fingers and lifted her shirt off, tossing it to the side when she was done. Mitena tilted her head, deep dark chocolate eyes staring into the Stargirl’s soul. She ran her hands through her raven tresses and a smirk curled up over her thick lips as her fingers traveled down her face and neck until she suggested brushing the top of her exposed breasts which were only covered by her bra. “How’s the view now?”

There was silence between the two women as Natalia’s green eyes locked on Mitena, utterly mesmerized at the breathtaking sight. No matter how hard she thought about it, she couldn't comprehend how one person could be so gorgeous in every single aspect that mattered. She tore her eyes away from Tena’s long enough to let them travel down her lovely features: from her beautiful face, her succulent rosy lips, her shiny dark hair falling down her shoulders, her soft, sun-kissed skin, the tantalizing curves of her chest perfectly emphasized by the bra she was wearing… Natalia found herself being more captivated by this stunning woman with every second she spent in her presence. It was truly something she couldn’t truly put into words.

"I still think it could be better…" she drawled, Tena's smirk mirrored on her own pale face as she approached the dark-haired beauty. With her eyes locked on hers, Tal gently grabbed both of her hands and carefully walked backwards, until she felt her back softly colliding with the thick trunk of a maple tree. Without letting go of her lover's hands, Natalia slowly slid down against the trunk, reaching the ground and settling into a seating position. It was then when Tal moved from holding Tena's hands to placing her hands on the bare skin of her small waist, and guided the Native girl into a straddling position on her lap.

From this angle, with their bodies pressed together and her face hovering so close to her own, Mitena looked even more gorgeous than before. "This right here is the most perfect view to me, dolcezza. My own personal masterpiece," she whispered softly, smiling at Tena before pulling her into a deep, passionate kiss, hands roaming over the other girl's exposed caramel skin.

Tena had never done hard drugs before. She smoked a lot of weed, of course she did, her auntie grew it on the farm she lived on but she had never touched the really addictive stuff. She imagined that the first bump of any of the strong line drugs was much like kissing Natalia; no wonder addicts always went back for more, she was pure unadulterated intoxication and Tena was craving, aching for the next hit.

The gentle touch of the Italian girl's hands, combined with the warmth of the summer sun on her bare skin was sending Mitena into a tailspin of ecstasy. The indigenous flower began to slowly but deliberately grind her hips against her Stargirl as their tongues graced each other with deep affection. She could feel the fire burning beneath her skin heating up with every passing moment of embrace they shared together. Her lover’s hands skillfully unhooked her bra and tossed it in the general direction of their forgotten shirts. Tena’s hands wandered down from Natalia’s beautiful face, down her body to the hem of her shirt where she gripped tightly and lifted it up over Tal’s head, throwing it into the brush with her own top. She gazed at the porcelain body before her with an eager hunger in her eye.

Mitena leaned forward once more to kiss those enthralling lips before she allowed her mouth to travel across Natalia’s sharp sharp jaw and up to her ear lobe where she playfully nibbled. So engrossed in her gift from the stars was Tena that she didn’t hear the rustling of the trees around them. As she feverishly gripped and nibbled at Tal’s neck, the native woman finally heard the movements. Breathlessly she turned her head, still holding Natalia’s head in her hands, and was greeted by the sight of a pale white horse, watching the lovers lose themselves in each other.

The rustling sounds of the nearby vegetation were drowned out by the two girls' chorus of moans and heavy breathing. As lost as Natalia was in being the recipient of Mitena's passion and the desperate desire to become one with her again growing with every second, she had become oblivious to their surroundings. It wasn't until Tena ceased her ministrations on her neck for longer than usual that Tal's eyelids fluttered open. She turned to her lover with a curious expression, silently questioning why she had stopped. Her answer, however, was obtained after she followed Tena's line of sight to a spot between the trees not too far away from them.

"Oh my God," Natalia exclaimed in admiration, her eyes wide at the surprising sight. In the twenty years she had roamed the earth, a pure white horse wasn't something she'd ever encountered. They were the same as unicorns in her mind: very talked about, but rarely seen in person. "Is that real?" Tal inquired, still unsure whether she was actually seeing the horse or whether it was her lusted mind playing tricks on her.

“Ska-cante.” Tena said breathlessly, still trying to suck some air back into her lungs after giving so much to Natalia. “Oh Stargirl, she’s very real.” The singer could feel her lover's body tense between her fingertips, though it was a very different kind of tension than the one she had quickly come accustomed to in their short time together. An amazed smile curled up across Mitena’s lips as she held Tal close and watched the majestic creature edge slightly closer to them. “Don’t make any sudden movements, we don't want to scare her.”

Still straddling Natalia’s hips, the doe eyed girl locked her gaze on the white mare and slowly outstretched her arm, flattening her palm in a welcoming motion. “You’re okay.” She spoke gently. “Hi there. You’re okay. You’re a beautiful girl.” The horse moved ever closer to the girls and began to lower its body to match their grounded height. “Her name is Ska-cante, in your tongue that means White Heart. Nobody knows where she comes from or how long she’s been in our woods. Like the Chief says he saw her when he was a boy, which would make her at least fifty!” Tena spoke in hushed tones, almost whispering in Tal’s ear so as to not spook their new companion. “Some say she’s the horse that led our tribe to this new land when ours was taken. She comes at times of great change.”

As the mare finally lowered itself fully to the ground and rested her head in Tena’s hand; her eyes shifted to Natalia and looked deeply at her. “I think she’s here for you.”

Tal, who had been transfixed by the mare's beauty, its intense stare locked on her and the gentle way in which her lover was tending to her, shot Tena an inquisitive look. "Why would she be here for me?" she asked with confusion, keeping the other woman held close to her body.

Mitena could feel Natalia’s grip tighten on her back and she smiled. She enjoyed the pressure, probably a little too much but she knew it wasn’t out of longing yet neither was it fear. It was a need for understanding. Comfort maybe? Tena moved her hand away from the horse who stayed her course. She reached around her back and took a hold of Tal’s wrist. “It’s okay.” Tena said reassuringly as she looked into those big green eyes of Natalia’s that had captured her heart. “Trust me.” She guided the Italian girl's palm to where her own once was, holding it flat she gently rested the Stargirl's palm against Ska-cante’s chin. “I think she’s here to tell you something. What? I don’t know. That’s between you.”

A cloud of uncertainty cast a shadow on Natalia's eyes, and she began to bite the inside of her cheek as she gently stroked the horse’s chin. "I'm sorry. I just… I don't know how I'm supposed to figure out what that message is…" she admitted, crestfallen at potentially disappointing Tena with her non-answer. Even with their brief time together, the girl could tell that Tena was a person who believed in the power of the supernatural and who was very in tune with her feelings, her emotions and her spiritual side. The Italian, however, was the complete opposite. She had never been much of a believer, even after being raised by a devoted Catholic. She was a thinker, who liked to justify things with reason and who believed in the logical explanation of things. To be told that there was a potentially mythical horse on this field to give her a message from beyond was a thought she needed to digest in itself. But to somehow be expected to know exactly what that message was was a tall order in Tal’s opinion. She'd try, though, for Mitena.

“I don’t think you are.” Tena responded. “At least not yet.” The native girl leaned back, allowing Natalia a little more room to maneuver. “She’s a horse, she can’t speak. She’s not going to give you a vision. She’s just here to signify that something is about to change for you. Something important.” With Tena’s final word, the white mare licked Natalia’s open hand before moving and doing the same to Mitena’s. Ska-cante pulled herself up by her strong legs and back up to her full height. With a loud whine, she turned and took off back into the woods from whence she had come, leaving the lovers alone once again.

Mitena moved closer to her Stargirl once more, placing her hands on the alabaster girl's neck and jaw, holding her close. “Or maybe she was just a pervy horse that wanted to watch me fuck your brains out like I did last night? Who's to say?” She couldn’t help but let out a laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation, and heard Natalia joining along. There she was: in the middle of the woods, mostly naked with a girl she had met the night before, getting gawked at by a horny horse. It sounded like one of Bear's stories.

Tena gently caressed Natalia’s cheek with the back of her fingers, getting lost in those big green eyes as she did. “You okay?”

Natalia was quick to ease any worries Tena might have with a nod, kissing the nearest finger caressing her face. "I'm good. I was just thinking about how nice it feels to be the one being chased for once. Makes me feel important," she said with a small laugh, tucking a strand of the other girl's hair behind her ear.

“Your exes never chased you?” Mitena questioned. She couldn’t help but wonder why anyone wouldn’t chase Natalia to the ends of the Earth, Beyond and back again. With her hands resting on Tal’s jaw, Tena sunk her thick hips deeper against her beautiful stranger's lap. Her dark eyes mapped out the light freckles over the Italian’s face like it was a map of the world. Such deep sadness lay like sea water in the stardust flecks of Natalia’s eyes. Such sorrow. Yet behind the ocean of hurt there was a bright light on the horizon. The burning of a sun which lit up her life and filled Tena’s heart. “If you ever let me go, I’m chasing you off the edge of the map.”

Natalia laughed brightly, amused and elated at Mitena's declaration. While knowing that this girl found her attractive enough to want to chase her in that way, her statement made the Italian girl nervous. Nobody that had ever said those words before had ever stuck around longer than a few months. But before she could ruin the moment by going down the rabbit hole of bitterness left behind by her failed relationships, she shifted her attention back to the breathtaking beauty on her lap.

"That's not how I meant," she told Mitena, kneading the girl's thighs. "I meant like in the beginning of getting involved with someone. Nine times out of ten, I'm the one taking the initiative and chasing after whoever I want. I do most of the work and they reward me with a chance. This is about the third time in my life that it's the other way around. It's a good kind of different." She admitted, momentarily kissing the native girl's lips. "What about you, dolcezza? I'm sure you had boys and girls chasing you left and right," she teased with another kiss.

“Only people chasing me were the people on my track team.” Mitena joked as she ran her fingers through Natalia’s gorgeous hair. “I wasn’t exactly what you would call popular in high school. See in Salem, everything was a little cliquey and the class I was in with my bandmate Odie, they didn’t take kindly to native girls. Odie got it worse.”

The pale woman rolled her eyes and shook her head in disapproval. While Edenridge might be cursed and riddled with crime, Tal liked to think that the diversity of its residents made for a more tolerant, inclusive town. People of all races and walks of life made up their tightly-knit community, and everyone eventually found a place where they felt like they belonged inside of it. The thought of anyone discriminating against Mitena of all people just for her ethnicity made Natalia’s blood boil under her skin.

"That is ridiculous,” Tal protested, green eyes flashing as she displayed anger in front of Tena for the first time since they’d met. “Ostracizing someone because of their race, their ethnicity or even their social standing in this day and age is a pretty pathetic move if you ask me. This isn’t the 1900’s. And just for the record: being popular doesn’t give you an excuse to be a shitty fucking person to other people. I was part of the it-crowd back home since sophomore year and queen bee senior year, and I treated everyone the same way they treated me. Hell, one of my best friends was in a fucking wheelchair, and you bet I was quick to put whoever said anything about him in their place. Anyone who discriminates against someone else period is nothing more than a fucking loser.”

Even talking of sorrowful things, Tena still tried to keep her confidence in the moment and not be sucked into bad memories. “I dated a few guys, nothing long term. Girls too. Weren’t even bad break-ups, really; they just didn’t ignite my soul, you know? Didn’t set my world on fire.”

Natalia nodded her head to show she'd been listening, but remained silent after the dark-haired girl's words. The difference between hers and Tena’s romantic experiences seemed to be as opposite as the night was to the day. While it seemed like Tena had been the less invested party of her previous relationships and the one to put an end to them, Natalia had always been the one at the receiving end of the breakups. She tended to fall so deeply in love with her partners; investing so much of her time, attention, trust, and affection in their happiness and healing only to be discarded and eventually replaced by someone else. She never claimed to be a perfect partner. She’d definitely made her fair share of mistakes over the years. But she sure was tired of giving everything to people who wouldn’t be sticking around

“I’d take my world never being set on fire in the first place than constantly having that fire being extinguished by somebody else,” Tal eventually muttered under her breath before she could stop herself, shifting her eyes down to stare at her lap.

“Excuse me.” Tena took her finger and placed it beneath Tal’s chin. She pushed the stunning Sicilian beauty’s gaze back up to meet hers. “You don’t look away from me. I’m not done with you yet.” A soft, barely there half smile slipped across the indigenous girl’s face as she looked with such wanting at the girl between her legs. “When I’m done with you, your world will be brought to cinders and you…” Mitena lowered her voice to a whisper as she kissed each corner of Natalia’s lips between her words. “Will love every moment of it.”

The gorgeous musicians' hands wandered down from Tal’s face and interlocked their fingers together. As their fingers laced together, Tena rested her forehead against Natalia’s, sharing the air, their lips hovering close together. “Dolcezza, that’s a beautiful word. What does it mean?” She bit her plump bottom lip, her tan body warming by the second.

The Italian girl smiled at the question. "Sweetness. It means sweetness in Italian,” she explained, kissing the back of both of Tena’s hands without letting them go. “It felt like the most fitting name to call you. I figured since you call me Stargirl that I should have the same courtesy and give you a cute nickname of your own.” Tal told her with a small laugh before adding, “Which I have no idea what it means, by the way, the Stargirl name that you keep calling me by.”

Stargirl. Tena smiled. She hadn’t even considered the connotations of bequeathing that name to her. It just seemed right, especially once she knew who Natalia was. In Charlie’s novel, his way of describing Tal was otherworldly, like she was a star stolen from heaven, with eyes that burned with the fire of a million supernovas. She was a beauty that no Earthling could truly understand, let alone a small boy from Massachusetts.

“It’s from a book.” Tena mused. “It means you are a cosmic beauty, something we mere mortals will never be able to understand. It means that when I look into those pretty green eyes, I see a million galaxies shining and stardust dancing in space. In my culture, there’s a strong belief that star people come from other words to help us progress, to move forward and to take us on our next great adventure.” The songstress kissed Natalia deeply once more, placing her hands between them, pressed tightly against both of their bare chests. “Stargirl means I want to explore and I want you to be my next great adventure.”

The usually outspoken Natalia was left speechless, a breath catching in her throat and her eyes filling up with tears. All her life, she’d been waiting for the person that would make her feel like her intense, passionate, unconditional love wasn’t this overwhelming burden they would never be able to repay or measure up against. She had tried to find a love like hers in the arms of broken partners; giving her all but always ending in disappointment because the timing was never right. She’d spent years numbing away each rejection and the feelings of inadequacy and emptiness with weed and pills, or compartmentalizing and pushing the bad memories to the back of her mind with the help of active sports and fleeting one night stands.

But for the first time in her life, Natalia felt like she was finally enough. She wasn’t a burden, or an inconvenience, or a person that could so easily be discarded and replaced with someone else. Her love wasn’t this behemoth that intimidated and scared people away. It was the opposite. She was someone who was worth the world: who deserved her same form of love to be returned to her even with her many flaws and mistakes she’d made throughout the years. The way Mitena spoke to her filled that invisible emptiness in her heart in ways she hadn't even dreamed of. And although she was aware that they had just met, Tal could sense it in her very spirit that the woman in her arms had meant each and every one of the words that came out of her mouth.

Completely overwhelmed with raw emotions, Natalia didn’t know what to say, and she didn’t want Mitena to see her cry. Instead, she did the only logical thing that was left. Without any further hesitation, the Italian girl wrapped her arms around Tena’s bare torso, pulled her close and passionately claimed her mouth with her own. Words may have failed her, but her actions would always reveal the truth.

The last day had been a whirlwind of emotions and situations that Mitena never thought she would have to deal with. Charlie’s long lost friends searching for her, connecting with one of those friends in a way that was borderline cosmic; not of it really made any sense. Hell, there was a high chance she just met a mystical horse. It was a weird day. Yet she wouldn’t trade it. She didn’t want to change a thing save how her meeting with Poppy went. Mitena knew that she needed to seek out the girl with the flower for a name; the one that Charlie broke into a million fragments of glass. She had to make it right. Yet before she did, the powers cosmic were not done with her and the Stargirl just yet.

The feel of Natalia’s lips on hers drove the fire inside Mitena to burn hotter than ever before. She desperately gripped at her lover's hair, face and body, driven not by lust but by love. Tena had fallen in love. The force of their passion pushed the girls down onto the floor where between feverish kisses, they removed what was left of their clothes and gave themselves to one another in body and in soul. Mitena wondered what the future had planned for them. There were so many variables in the equation that it was hard for her to really fathom its enormity. Yet she pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind, the answers would come in due course. This moment was theirs and theirs alone. Straddling her Stargirl, Tena pinned her arms to the floor, her breath labored from their kisses and desire for one another. She stared deeply into Tal’s green galaxy eyes, and saw Natalia looking back up at her with the same desire and need. God, she was so beautiful. As they crashed into one another once more, becoming one as they were meant to be, Ska-cante raced through the woods, bringing life where once there was none.

The sun was bearing down now with a great summer intensity and Tena basked silently in its glow. She had been floating in air for a moment after another tryst with her Stargirl but then reality came flooding back when she recorded a message from her cousin Forrest; Poppy was ready to meet and try again.

Despite the uncomfortableness of their first go at it, Mitena was not dreading seeing the pale brunette again, nor was she apprehensive. This was something that she wanted and in all fairness needed. Of all four offcomers that had arrived in Blue Hill the previous day, all of which carried with them a piece of her departed brother, it seemed that Penelope James carried the largest and under most fractured piece. She was a shard of glass with jagged edges, broken away the window that made her whole.

Tena thought back to Charlie’s book, his unfinished magnum opus. To read his words and thoughts and feelings, to see the crosses he chose to bear, was to understand and feel the crushing weight of the world. Yet amongst those clever turns of phrase and strong references to the greatest literary minds of all time, the constant levity and the love was brought by Poppy James. Whenever he mentioned the girl with the green eyes, the obviousness and deepness of his longing and love for her was crushing, like the compressing weight of the vast blue ocean itself. Over the last few days, Mitena had met both girls in the book. She had met Charlie’s true love and the girl he could’ve loved. It wasn’t hard to see why both enticed and enthralled him like they did. Given what she had witnessed and given what she now knew, the simple fact was Charlie was a teenage boy, confused, mentally and emotionally crushed by a world that didn’t want him and too blind to see those that really did.

Creator, she wished she could’ve been there for him.

Leaning back in the grass, Tena watched as Resi’s truck drove up the dirt road towards the Silverheel Ranch; her home. She had dropped Tal back at Adora’s, knowing this was something she needed to do alone. The Firebird was nowhere in sight so Jadyn and her boyfriend were also gone. They would be alone. The gentle breeze carried a strand of hair across her caramel face as the truck pulled up. Tena waved and took a deep breath.

Getting out of Resi’s truck, Penelope stopped at his window to look up at him. She was nervous. She didn’t know how this would fair. Mitena held answers like a knife and everytime she spoke, it felt like getting stabbed repeatedly. Resi’s words echoed in her mind as she intensely gazed up at him. Truth always hurt. It always does but it also heals. More so when it is massively uncomfortable to hear. Poppy hoped he was right and that this would be good for both her and Tena. It didn’t change that she was scared. It didn’t change that she was tired.

Time and time again, Poppy kept getting hurt by the forces of nature. Her father had told her and her sister when they were little that that’s just the way of being a James. The reason why he was given his nickname, Rocky, was because after everything he’s been through, after all the pain and trauma, pain that could easily make a man no longer want to fight, he was still standing. She remembered her father’s smile when he heard the nickname Mordechai gave her. Street Angel. While that nickname could also have negative connotations depending on what lore you base it on, he knew what Decky meant. Penelope was the deadliest girl alive, made for the streets but with the wings of an angel. Someone who was meant to absorb pain and help heal those that gravitate to her light. She was an angel to him, and to all her friends, and even if Decky and Charlie tried to protect her at the time from the beast that was the Southside, she was acknowledged as family. They saw her as one of them. Poppy didn’t understand her father at the time; but now she does. It was never Decky’s intention to shield her. He always considered her family. He always saw her as a badass. But he wanted to protect her heart, protect her angel wings, and protect her light because everyone around her needed her to fly. Everyone needed her to stand and fight because most of them barely had any fight in them.

“Will I see you again soon?” Penelope called out to Forrest, knowing she had his number and that he would be coming to Edenridge in a couple of days. She needed to hear it from his lips though. That he wanted to see her again. She didn’t want to be the only one with this feeling. She wanted to be certain that Forrest enjoyed her company and even looked forward to seeing her again. Counting the days like she was going to. It was silly, really. That she wanted to hear him say it but she wasn’t going to act like his friendship wasn’t the best thing that she’s gained from her visit. It was and she would show him just how much her time with him meant to her.

Resi leaned out of the driver side window of his truck and looked down at the strange spirit girl that had been carried into his life on a summer's breeze. She stood looking at him with those big green eyes and he smiled, the wind lightly blowing his messy black hair around. “Sooner than you think.”

He glanced over at his cousin on the nearby grass. Forrest always knew how to read her face. Tena, as honest and forthright as she was, always knew how to insulate herself, now to protect herself from the pain. Or at least she knew how to mask it but he could see right through it. She was terrified. He and Mitena were raised together, they had done many things together but this, this next part she had to do without him. He wasn’t a part of this particular story. Resi waved towards her as he started up his truck once again before returning his attention to Poppy. “Just remember Poppy, it hurts to heal but it hurts less when we do it together.” He leaned back inside of the truck and began to back away down the dirt driveway, leaving the field to themselves.

Standing there, watching Resi leave, Penelope used that moment to fix her hair, the wind having tousled it around in a natural wave of chaos. She ran her fingers through it and brought it to her side, letting it flow down her shoulder like a waterfall. Her eyes caught sight of her pale arm with a tint of red. Sunburnt. Sadness. Downside of being as white as snow. She should’ve applied sunscreen. She took a sharp breath in and exhaled with force. This was her moment with Mitena. This was their moment together. What brought them together was a common thread of Charlie but that didn’t define this moment. What would define this moment was Tena’s truth and Poppy’s truth, and their shared love for the boy who could’ve lived and been something amazing. A boy who was broken and sadly, and unintentionally, broke the people around him. Turning on her heel, Poppy grabbed onto the side of her dress and scrunched it in her hands, feeling the fabric as a way to comfort her. Trying to amble her way toward the beautiful, native girl, to hide her worry and show she was relaxed and that she totally got this, Penelope gave a shy wave. She stopped at the stairs of the porch and looked at the other girl for guidance who was sitting on a patch of grass. All she could muster up the courage to say was a simple, “Hi there.”

“Hi.” Tena smiled brightly. Confidence Strongbow. “Welcome to Silverheel. It’s nowhere near as big as the Coldwind’s place but what we lack in size we make up for in skill.” A sex joke Tena? Really? Her mother had always liked to think of herself as a comedian despite being in the most unfunny profession in the world. Reaching her hand out, Mitena rubbed the luscious green grass in a circle next to her. “Why don’t you take a seat here with me? Let the roots grow where they may.” It was simple middle school stuff. Roots dig deep and then grow towards sunlight but here in this place it meant more. In this moment it meant more. It meant the conversation they were about to have, the relationship they were about to or perhaps not form. “Thank you for coming back.”

“Thank you for letting me come back,” Poppy returned Mitena’s smile with her own. “Oh, I can tell. Resi is very talented,” the dark haired girl innocently stated before registering the sexual connotations of Tena’s statement. “In cooking, I mean. Skilled in the kitchen,” she nervously chuckled, trying to fix the error of her naïveté. With quiet steps, she made her way beside Tena and took a seat, nestling herself on the grass. Like a little girl, she brought her knees up and hugged it, her flowy dress big enough to cover most of her legs. “He told me about Craven, and the Silverheel sisters. It was tragic, but a very beautiful tale. I’m glad he trusted me enough to share that with me,” Poppy admitted, hopefully displaying enough strength to show Tena she was in a much better headspace than she was in this morning.

Tena smiled. Poppy seemed a lot more comfortable than the earlier part of the morning and her time with Resi seemed to have added some color to her cheeks. She would definitely have to probe her cousin later for the details. It seemed that perhaps Penelope had found a connection here at Blue Hill after all. “Forrest does tend to be a bit dramatic.” Mitena smiled as she brushed the bangs on either side of her face back. “Craven sounds so terrifying doesn’t it? I don’t subscribe to that belief. Resi’s father isn’t craven, he’s Wyatt. The same as my father isn’t craven, he’s James.” Her almond eyes surveyed the pale beauty closely, watching for any hints that she would ruin their second conversation like she did their first. “You know, it’s because of that lack of belief that I’m not Mitena Silverheel? I took my fathers surname when I was sixteen despite never even meeting the man. Charlie did too, if I remember right.” There it was. The first drop in the ocean that could cause a tidal wave.

Charlie.

It always came back to him.

“Mm,” Poppy nodded, revealing this wasn’t a deep secret to her. He wrote Strongbow on his papers. As much as Poppy wanted to ask him about it, they were juniors and that was the worst year of her life, even before the shooting. They didn’t really talk much and when they did, they fought. She remembered both him and Decky coming to her aid in the girls’ bathroom when Poppy was bloodied and bruised. She got in a fight with a girl twice her size because of the things she was saying about Charlie. She never did tell him what it was about. All they saw was their Street Angel was hurt and she might’ve been the cause of it. “James Strongbow. I know as much about him as Mama Rhonda would tell me. Charlie told me bits and pieces but he spoke in riddles. When it came to his dad, that was always a sore spot. If it wasn’t for his dad and the dark deeds people say he did, maybe he wouldn’t have to work all the time to try to pay for his mother’s medical bills, a roof over their head, and food on their table.”

She paused and looked away from Tena, staring ahead and thinking of the memories that felt like it was only yesterday. Memories that made her feel Charlie could pop up anywhere and say gotcha! Like his death and the shooting was one big prank. She really missed him. Both the good and bad. She missed him. “Charlie had a lot of pride and hated when my parents offered to help. Hated when I wanted to help. I noticed he changed his name but not because he told me. At the time, he wanted nothing to do with me but I’m no idiot. I listen and see. Hard to ignore Mr. Beau saying Charlie Strongbow-Decker, you know?”

Tena thought back to the book she had been sent just before Charlie’s death, the book of his life. It was his junior year that prefaced the end of it all, considering the events that occurred the first day of his senior one. Within those pages he describes the degradation of his relationship with Poppy and just how at fault he was. Beneath his written words was a hope to get back to the way things were but that hope was stained with a black mark. A mark of abuse as it seemed by that point her big brother was trapped in the throes of addiction. “We agreed to do it together. Change our names to spite those that looked down on us because of who our father was. It was silly really. Charlie and I only ever met one time and yet there we were, miles apart and changing our names. You know how he convinced me? He quoted some old book, like I knew what the hell it meant but something in the way he wrote it, I dunno it just swayed me.”

Mitena decided to take a chance and moved closer to Poppy. She reached out and laced her fingers with hers, bringing her small white hand into her lap and then covering it with her other free hand for comfort and security. “Poppy, I want you to know that I want to help you. Whatever it is you’re feeling, whatever it is you actually want, I want to give that to you.” She gently caressed the top of Pops knuckle with her thumb tip. “If you’ll let me.”

Poppy’s green eyes glistened under the beaming sun, cased in red and misted over, with more tears to cry. She thought she was running out of water but her heart was flooded by the rain of her soul. She couldn’t stop today. She couldn’t push this sensation aside and numb herself like she had so many times before. Unrestrained, the tidal wave forced her to shake as Mitena held onto her hand. “How do you know what you want, when everything you ever wanted… was in a boy? A boy you loved far too much for your own good. A boy that took a part of your soul with him, the moment he was shot dead in front of you by your father.”

Poppy buried her face in her knees, against her summer dress, and let the fabric soak up her tears. “I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.” She muffled into her legs. “I hate what he’s done to me.” She brought her head up to catch Tena’s sorrowful gaze, “I can’t eat because I associate food with him. I can’t sleep on my bed because we used to spend the nights holding each other, a silent reminder that at the end of an awful day, we’d always have each other. I can’t look at myself in the fucking mirror because I hate myself. My dad removed all the mirrors because I broke my lamp against mine and almost used a shard to stab myself. I can’t look at every fucking person, every fucking street or tree or book, without thinking of him. I can’t breathe half the time and I only just started walking and not crumbling when a person says hello to me. Why the hell did I let him have all this… why did I give him so much of my heart when he never wanted me?”

“Oh baby.” Tena pulled Poppy into her embrace as she choked back her own tears. The disconnect between their two realties was beginning to form a door that they both could step through. Mitena was finally getting a glimpse into Charlie’s world, Poppy’s world. He had really tied this poor little girl into knots and left her like that in the most horrendous of ways. This was not the girl that Charlie wrote about in his book, this was her ghost. This was a spirit left broken and shattered and her pieces embraced by mother death as a daughter.

Holding onto Poppy desperately, their bodies trembling together in shuddered pain, Tena exhaled shakily as tears streamed down her face. “You need this. You need to let all of this go and let it out, scream your pain into the mountains and let it travel with the spirit warriors as a shield, protecting them from evil. Empty yourself into the land so that from it you can grow towards the light like a flower. You are strong and beautiful and you have suffered more than any person ever should.” Mitena gazed out across the fields of Silverheel as the black raven dropped itself down on a log nearby. Charlie was watching the seeds he had sown in both of them, the seeds of their sorrow. “Let the wind carry it away, Poppy.”

Dropping her weight on Charlie’s sister, Penelope closed her eyes and listened to the whistle of the wind, the insects, like the loud cicadas, and the heavy breaths of the person she shared a small space with. She hadn’t even admitted these feelings to Shannon yet. Blue Hill was doing something fierce to her and she had yet to determine if it was good or bad. “That’s not true at all now is it? The reality of my situation is,” she sniffled and calmed her breathing, steadying herself, using the support of Tena to get back to her senses, “He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same. Emily Brontë. Wuthering Heights.”

Gradually, she opened her eyes and her beautiful and bold greens that spoke of nature, sunshine and floral blooms found their way to the raven and she gave a weak yet knowing smile, “Hey ChooChoo,” she exasperatedly whispered. She couldn’t promise the bird she’d heal overnight. This would take however long it takes but she could at least take back her blatant lie. “Miss you.” Her voice quivered, desperately wishing this was indeed Charlie’s spirit watching over her. “Love you.” The stream came rushing out of her, watering her dress, Tena’s arm, and the soil she sat on. “So much,” she finished, choking back tears. So-fucking-much.

Tena rested her chin atop Poppy’s head as the girls watched Charlie’s raven together. Anyone else would say that it was crazy, that a bird couldn’t carry the soul of a boy. Mitena herself only followed some of her tribal traditions but there was something in the dark look that the avian creature was giving them. Something in his black eye that projected a warmth and welcoming feeling. From what she had learned of her brother’s life, it seemed a perfect fit for Charlie to be a raven.

Towards his end, he sought to better the world by ridding it of himself. The raven was inherently a selfish creature. In some indigenous cultures, the raven was the creator of the world but did so out of vanity. He created the moon and the sun and the stars, not to grow life but to make a better one for himself. He was once a brilliant white until he flew through smoke and was burned black for his misdeeds. That was Charlie. Thinking he was doing right but never doing it for the right reasons.

“Bit on the nose, Charlie Jay don’t you think?” Mitena let a small laugh penetrate her tears as the bird watched them. “A Raven really? Is this an Edgar Allen Poe thing or is it because you thought it was cool that a group of them are known as an Unkindness? Honestly he’s such a dork.”

Cracking a smile, Poppy wiped her tears with her free hand, her knees and legs leaning to the side, against Tena. “He is,” she agreed. But he was their dork. Even with all that being said, both she and Tena needed to move forward. As beautiful and meaningful as the raven was to them, as symbolic as the bird could be, she knew it was more of a reminder of what was in the shadows of her own awareness. What she had yet to discover and the impending change that would define her future. Charlie was a guide to something. She didn’t know what that something was yet. She just knew he was pushing her forward to a destination unknown.

“I have a feeling you’re not endangered after all,” Poppy chuckled to herself, thinking back to her conversation with Rhonda. “Mama Rhonda wanted us to meet. Sure she told a little white lie, saying the person who had his journal was threatening your life, but if she didn’t do that… I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t have met you and all these beautiful people that make a small yet mighty village. This place is really something else,” Poppy glanced down at Tena’s hand, interlocking their fingers together. “I hope I can give you something back and that this isn’t one sided.” She looked deeply into Tena’s eyes, full of soul, full of hope, and full of wonder. “I don’t know what I can provide. Friendship? Maybe? Could we start with that?”

“I’d really like that Poppy.” Mitena looked down from Pops’ eyes to their interlocked fingers. In that moment they were joined together and maybe they always had been. The longer she spent with these Edenridge kids, the more the raven haired singer believed that something cosmic was happening. It was a sad fact of life that some people didn’t make it out of living alive and it was an even sadder fact that sometimes people were made to suffer so that others could benefit. Tena had once before entertained the thought but was now a little more sure, her big brother, Charlie Jay, had been placed on this Earth by the great Creator for a reason. Charlie was built to endure the greatest of pains, to bend and then break. He would break into a branching path that the people of Edenridge would walk on, guiding them to where they were supposed to be. As a human being, Mitena could not justify the actions that her brother undertook in his final hours but she could be comfortable in the fact that his purpose might have been to bring others together. Without Charlie, she would never have met Poppy James. She wouldn’t have met her Stargirl or Jade and Decky. She glanced at Charlie the Raven once more, and smiled. “Get outta here, shit-ass, can’t you see we’re having a moment?”

He squawked loudly before taking off into the sky, joining an Unkindness over their heads.

Creed knocked on the Gonzalez' door after a quick glance around for suspicious activity. Ley had texted him early in the morning saying she would need an escort, and he easily finished his routine before heading over to start his job. Not that making sure Ley was safe was much of a job, at least not like it had been whenever ReyRey had him keeping an eye on her in highschool. Ley used to be one of the most fearless snakes he’d ever seen, with a loud mouth and an ear-ringing right hook to back it up. He’s seen her take a girl down by the ponytail and not stop thrashing her until he had to pull her off, and even then she would still be raring to go another round. He’d had to leave many parties early and miss out on a full night of customers because he had to drag her out of a fight and get her home. She was a blazing inferno and he loved to get too close to those flames. He admired the ferocity she had behind everything she did. He used to flirt with her in the middle of dragging her out of fights, and it was always a bit of a blow to his ego when that was the thing that made her stop flailing and start laughing, calling him corny and blowing off any compliment or pick up line he threw her way.

It was a far cry from the paranoid, traumatized girl he’d been reassigned to a month ago. Nowadays, Aleyda Gonzalez was a mere ember of her former flame, and the most life he’s seen in her eyes has been when her gaze fell upon her young son. He felt lucky enough to be able to see that light many times recently, as he accompanied her and little Raf around town on errands and outings to the park. It was a rare glimpse into who was now just a memory most times. While he missed how energetic and volatile she used to be, Creed also felt blessed that he got to see her as a caring mother as well. It was far better than any other outcome of her former relationship.

After giving Aleyda the space she needed to process the shock of the news of Hyde's release, the Gonzalez family sprang into action to come up with a plan to keep her safe. The first thing they had done was move her and Rafael back to Big Rey and Lupe’s house. As much as it hurt to watch them leave the home Big Rey had so lovingly gifted her daughter and grandson, they all agreed that the move was the best way to keep the two of them safe.

The day after the news, Ley and Big Rey had an emergency meeting with Renee Davies to ensure that the restraining order she’d been granted was still in effect. They received confirmation that the order was still active, and were advised to contact law enforcement if it was ever broken. In reality, there was a bigger chance of Cameron Hyde meeting his demise before the police were ever called, but that wasn’t something the Gonzalez’ would say out loud.

Their next move had been to speak with Marlena Brady about the situation and coordinate measures to take place during Ley’s shifts at the salon. As always, the Mexican woman was understanding to a fault. Being a teen mom and the daughter of a kingpin herself, Marlie reassured the younger woman that she’d be more than taken care of during her watch. Security cameras inside and outside the building, an alarm system and the Glock she kept in her office had always been a part of the salon’s safety precautions, but she’d also ask her husband Colin to put in a word to his superiors to increase the patrol rounds around the salon for added peace of mind.

The final and most important part of Ley’s security plan was to assign a capable, resourceful, trusted Serpent to escort her anytime she left the house and whenever Big Rey and Lupe weren’t around. The Serpent that was was a no-brainer. Maliq and Aleyda had known each other since they were babies-- they’d grown up together, gone to school together, and he’d been her bodyguard and protector since their playground days. Most importantly, Creed was the only man in the organization with the rarest quality of all: Aleyda’s entire and wholehearted trust.

Following Creed’s knock, the front door to the Gonzalez house opened just wide enough to allow the person inside to glance outside. A brown eye could be seen peeking out, visually confirming the identity of the person on the other side before closing it again. After a few rattling sounds, the door swung open to reveal the Serpent Princess herself: all dressed up and ready for the day.

“Hey, Mal,” Aleyda politely greeted the Serpent, offering him a half-smile before allowing him entry into the home. None of the former bright smiles, sparkling eyes or playful banter from before she got the news-- only meek politeness and deliberate avoidance of eye contact. “I was just putting Raf’s shoes on so we could head out.”

"Hey, Ley," Creed responded, crossing the threshold with one more security glance outside. He immediately knelt down in front of where Raf was sitting with one shoe partially on and the other in the boy's hand. "Hey lil' man, let's get your shoes on an' show ya off around town, yeah?" He grabbed the laces of the shoe already on his foot and made quick work of tying it, then he held his hand out for the other shoe, giving little Raf a fist bump when the item was handed over. Once both shoes were on, he allowed the little boy to hook his arms around the back of his neck and picked him up off the floor, pretending that Raf's counterweight was affecting him and wobbling dramatically on one foot to make the child laugh and his mother smile. Once he'd finished a performance Jokes would be proud of, the Serpent enforcer smiled and put his own arm under the boy to keep him stable in his hold. Turning to Ley with a soft smile on his face, he asked, "We all good?"

Are you ready, his eyes asked. To be out there? because that was always an important step for days when they got out of the house. If she wasn't ready then Creed could do her errand on his own, but giving Ley choices were important. So many choices had been violently torn from her grasp that it was important to remind her that she still has the ability to make her own choices again. Creed detested Hyde for everything that man did, for the way he destroyed beautiful things just so he could see how they crumble and break under his fist, but the pain and destruction he cause Aleyda Gonzalez has its biased place at the very top of his list of grievances for the animal in a man’s skin.

Watching Creed interacting with Rafael healed and broke Aleyda’s heart in equal parts. Maliq had always treated Raf with patience, kindness and affection. Whenever he was around, smiles and laughter seemed to be the order of the day for both mother and child. It filled Ley’s heart with joy to know that her son was so loved by not just Mal, but by so many other people as well. On the other hand, a gut-wrenching pain seemed to gnaw at her chest whenever she saw the man and her boy together. As much as she tried not to, Ley couldn’t help but fantasize about a world in which Cameron hadn’t succumbed to his demons and tried to kill her. A world in which they’d shared a healthy, loving relationship, and one where they raised their child together as the family she always dreamed of having.

A world that didn’t exist and never would.

Fighting away the tears springing to her eyes, Aleyda blinked a few times before turning to Maliq and nodding. She was still very visibly afraid of leaving the safety of her parents’ home since that day, but the girl knew she was safe under her friend’s watch.

Creed nodded to Aleyda and grabbed the keys to her red Hyundai Elantra before he headed out the door with Raf in his arms. He looked down the street to see Jokes nodding to him from the corner, giving him the all clear, and then unlocked the doors so Aleyda could get in while he strapped Raf into his seat in the back. The boy pulled at Creed's beanie excitedly as the man strapped him in and Creed was content to let the boy's focus remain on his hat so he could focus on getting all the buckles right. Once that was finished, the bodyguard straightened up and ruffled the hair on Raf's head before closing the door and sliding into the driver's seat. Spending these days with Aleyda and Raf were giving him similar feelings to spending the day with Fin and Prof; it left him with a yearning to build such a family dynamic in his own life. It wasn't that he didn't love the relationships he had, but playing bodyguard to a girl that practically thrived on blowing off his advances and that girl's son who treated him like he was the coolest thing since sliced bread…Creed, for the first time since Natalia, was feeling sick of flings and one night stands, and he was ready for something real again. Real like he'd had with Natalia, real like he'd always had with Jokes. He loved doting on lil' Raf and treating the little man like his own, but he also wanted a child of his own, and had known he wanted to be a father quite young when he was busy being the older brother to a bunch of chaotic preteen snakes. He looked to Ley in the passenger seat and smiled, pushing all his thoughts away to focus on the woman beside him.

"Lookin' good as always today, Viper," he complimented, earning himself a small, reserved smile from Aleyda as a thank you. "Now where're we goin'?"

"Beau's café," she answered without missing a beat, putting on her seat belt and locking her eyes on the road stretching out in front of them. In all honesty, Ley hadn't wanted to leave the safety of the house in the first place-- she was sure her hesitation was painted all over her made-up face. Any visit around town outside of the usual back and forth to work could mean coming face to face with her ex-boyfriend, which was something she desperately wanted to avoid. But Lupe had insisted that some time outside the four walls Ley had grown accustomed to would do her good, so she took it upon herself to arrange the outing they were embarking on.

Nodding to Ley to show he'd heard, Creed pulled out of the driveway and headed off towards the cafe, turning the music up as he did so to allow Ley some time in her head to get ready to be out and about. His and Raf's singing filled the car for the majority of the ride and by the time they had reached Beau's they had already cycled through most of Raf's favorites. At least, the ones Creed kept saved on his phone for the little guy.

Aleyda, on the other hand, appeared to be lost in her own thoughts for the duration of the car ride. After the conversation with Prim the night before, she seemed to be more inside her own head than usual lately. The news her friend had disclosed to her during this impromptu phone call had unraveled the progress of years worth of therapy in a matter of minutes. All the confidence in herself that she’d rebuilt came crashing down, the insecurities she’d been battling against returned in full force, and the doubts about her self-worth came back with a vengeance. If Cameron had been able to move on so quickly, did that mean she’d been the problem in their relationship all along? Had she acted or been lacking in ways that justified his aggressions towards her? Maybe she’d mouthed off to him a little too much. Maybe she’d given him reasons to doubt her. Maybe she’d unknowingly tested his patience for so long that he couldn’t take it anymore and he lashed out. Shannon and everyone else said that nothing justified what happened to her, but what if they were wrong? She was the one who decided to date him. She was the one who decided to go against everyone’s advice to be with him. No matter how many ways you tried to spin the story, maybe she had brought this all on herself.

Maliq checked the rearview to see that Jokes had hopped into a car with Duke and both were parked across the street to keep watch. As he watched, Duke stepped out and nodded in the Elantra's direction to give them the all clear before walking off to do surveillance on foot.

"All good, let's head inside," Creed assured Ley as he turned off the car. He got out and got little Raf out of his seat and onto his hip, securing the boy to him with one arm before he went around to the passenger side of the car and opened the door for Ley, letting his large figure be a wall between her and the open street behind them. He held his free hand out to her to help her from the car. "I gotchu, mama."

Aleyda couldn't help but offer Maliq a nod of appreciation as she took his hand and exited the vehicle. Even though Creed had never been anything less than a gentleman in the years she'd known him, the man's actions made her heart ache with sorrow. When things had taken a turn for the worse during her relationship with Hyde, she had been quickly conditioned to expect that no good deed came without a consequence. A bouquet of flowers was proof that he loved her with all of his heart and was willing to forgive her even if she was 'being fucking crazy, acting like a mouthy fucking bitch and overreacting all the fucking time'. A drive around town was an opportunity to get yelled at about how stupid, annoying, bitchy or idiotic she was in close quarters with no escape. A door being opened for her meant getting forcefully grabbed by the arm and flung into the room the second she crossed the threshold because she was 'in the way'. Walking past him meant her hair getting painfully yanked or her body getting shoved, but he 'was just playing, babe'. Sleepovers 'because I miss you' were a gateway into screaming matches that ended with Cameron storming off and Aleyda crying beside a hole he had punched near her head in the wall of his bedroom. Attempts at intimacy began as masked passion, but the underlying violence of his actions revealed themselves sooner and sooner with each encounter, eventually turning into anything other than the act of love it was supposed to be. These days, Ley couldn't help the way she flinched whenever a man made any sudden moves around her or got too close. It was a reaction she had no control over, but one she was actively trying to deprogram herself from.

Rafael's small voice calling for her attention pulled the Gonzalez daughter out of her sad reverie. After a glance at her beautiful son, Aleyda pushed the unwelcome thoughts and made the conscious decision to focus on the present. She couldn't let her traumatic memories with Hyde continue to interfere with her life like this. So with her hands still intertwined with Creed's for emotional stability and support, the Serpent enforcer, the Serpent princess and her small prince made their way into Café Rochambeau.

There had been some minor flooding out back of the Cafe because of the storm but no major damage, so Beau thought best just to drain it himself instead of bothering any of the local services. Emerging from the back, a wide toothy grin crossed the former teacher's stubbled face as he saw a sight that might just bring tears to his eyes. Aleyda Gonzalez, hand in hand with Maliq Briteson and her lovely little boy, Rafael. They looked to the untrained eye like a young family out and about for the day. In reality, Aleyda was a prisoner in her own body and Maliq was the guard trying to rehabilitate her. Beau’s eyes drifted to the window, he could see the Serpents watching and he wasn’t surprised. After what the poor girl had suffered at the hands of Rafael’s father, Big Rey’s reaction of having a protection detail on his princess at all times was not a shocker.

“Well well, hey there.” Beau had known Aleyda most of her life. Despite his former occupation as police, he and her father held a deep rooted respect for each other. They were men of honor in a time where honor was no more. “It’s so good to see you all,” Bending down, Antoine looked at the little boy and booped his nose, earning himself a small giggle from the boy. “Especially you, petit Prince.” Raf had so much of his father in him, right down to those cold blue eyes, though thankfully, there was a warmth behind them that just didn’t exist in his progenitor. Beau still held some guilt about not being able to help Cameron. Mr. Hyde was already too far gone. “What can I get for you, sweetheart?”

"It's always good to see you too, Mr. Beau. Good mornin'." Aleyda quietly greeted the older man with a wave and a half-smile, occupying her usual booth at the end of the establishment and choosing the side facing the window to the outside. Sitting with her back against entrances or exits was certainly not an option these days. "I'll get a large caramel latte, a ham, an egg and cheese croissant for me; a glazed donut and a hot chocolate for Raf-- but don't make it too hot, you know? Just warm enough. And can you put it in the disposable cup with the sip lid? He’s still not the most careful with things, so I wouldn't want to risk him spilling his drink or breaking any of your nice mugs." With hers and her son's orders now placed, Ley turned her attention to Creed. "Pick your poison, Mal. Food's on Dad's dime today."

"Well I ain't gonna say no ta that," Creed replied, smiling at both Beau and Aleyda as he slid into the seat opposite her, well aware of her issue with facing her back to open spaces and willing to allow this slide in security measures with the knowledge that his serpent brothers were watching their backs outside. "I'll take an everythin' bagel with butter an' large coffee with cream an' sugar," he ordered, not even bothering with a menu. While him and Beau weren't as close as the older man was with quite a few of the other Southies and Serpents that Creed knew, he still held an immense amount of respect for the man who had a heart big enough to support those from both sides of the track. He'd known about him from running around town, from Decky and Ley and his other friends, but considering how much school he skipped to work he had hadn’t much actually been in any of the classes, so he only truly met him face to face when he went to one of the school dances when he had been dating Natalia. The man was warm and welcoming while still holding an air of authority about him, and Creed found his presence immensely calming, and gave him the respect that his presence demanded but his actions earned. This man was certainly something special, and someone healthy and successful in his own small way that the disenfranchised of this town can look up to. "How've ya been, Mr. Beau?"

“Oh you know me, same old same old.”

Beau scribbled down the young “family’s” order. There had been too many days in the past few years where Big Rey Gonzalez came into Rochambeau lamenting the sadness of his daughter. The guilt and the pain, it so very obviously ate away at the former Serpent's heart and Beau knew that there was nothing he could do or say to alleviate that. Oh to be a father was the greatest gift a man could receive but it could also be the worst curse a man could ever bear. Antoine looked down at the small boy reaching up with his little hands. “You wanna help me make this Raf? It's good with me, all my staff are out today. Come on little man,” The older man picked up the giggling boy into his arms and carried him to the counter where he placed him down. He handed the blonde boy a toy from underneath the counter where he kept spares for tired Mom’s and began making the order.

Beau glanced out of the window at a cab parked at the traffic lights outside before returning his gaze to Rafael. The child looked so much like his father, it was really quite haunting. From the reddish blonde hair and pale blue eyes right down to the small freckles that were still developing across his face. “You taking care of your Momma, Raf? She’s good people. Grand Papi and Grandma too. Jury’s out on your uncle but don’t give up hope. There’s a light out there for him; he just has to find it. You too, but you got time.”

Antoine had a lot of regrets in his life. It came with the territory really. As a police officer and a teacher, it was strange that his regrets in both of his lives were married. He hated letting people down. Failing them when he promised absolution. For a time that revolves around being unable to bring someone to justice. After that it was about children that he watched enter a life he tried to teach them to avoid but that was the real lie he told himself. He wasn’t teaching them to avoid it, he was teaching them how to survive it.

Rafael’s father was one of those regrets. When Cameron Hyde walked into Beau’s class, he saw the darkness straight away. It was like a cloud, an aura Colleen would say. He was solemn, moody but oh so clever. Cameron knew how to work a room and the people in it. He learned quickly that the problem with the young boy was his rage. There was just so much rage. Beau tried. He really tried to get through to him and for a time, the boy they now call the Devil responded. Then something turned. Something changed and Cameron was lost, giving birth to Hyde.

“Quiet minds cannot be perplexed or frightened but go on in fortune or misfortune at their own private pace, like a clock during a thunderstorm.” Beau quoted Robert Louis Stevenson’s great novel of man’s duality. “I’m sorry your daddy never found his light. Maybe it was you all along?”

Creed had turned back to Ley when Beau took Raf to get their order ready and found himself staring at her for a long moment as her eyes stayed locked on her child. He knew being out was hard for her, but she did seem to consider the Rochambeau a sort of safe territory for a little of her spark to reignite. Her eyes were softer and less guarded and her muscles, while still rather coiled, were relaxing in small motions as she registered her safety. It wasn't something anyone else may notice, but Creed has been a master in Ley's body language before he ever even became a Serpent; back when he was just a Legacy in grade school and, yeah, she was still the Serpent Princess but she was also just a Legacy as well. The Legacies knew each other all quite well, but even they had their own little groups within their own small community. The Bookers all stayed together and took the Bransons and later the children that became part of the Dawson household with them. Creed and Jokes had each other and Ley, and later the first generations- like Mordechai and Sonny- fell under their wings and got in close, especially with their quick rise in the ranks to Captain and Lieutenant so young.

All that being said, he knew Ley, and he knew when she had a lot on her mind.

"What's goin' on up there, Viper?" He asked, tapping his temple with two fingers to indicate her thoughts before dropping his hand back to the table, glancing out the window for a split moment just as the light turned green for the cab sitting there.

The young woman took in a deep breath. "Do you believe in karma?" she asked Creed, keeping her brown eyes locked on the table. "Like, do you believe that what goes around comes around? That you always pay for every bad thing you do in one way or another?"

"I…can't really say I do, I've seen too much bad shit go on for too long without any consequences ta believe in it," he answered truthfully, interlocking his fingers and resting his hands on the table in front of him. "Do I think that sometimes people get what they deserve? Sure, but there's a whole lotta graves in this town alone that are filled with people that deserved ta be here today, so I think us humans are just too small in the universe ta be subjected ta strict cosmic balance," he watched the dark haired beauty in front of him and raised an eyebrow, asking, "Why'd ya ask?"

Aleyda inhaled and slowly exhaled a deep breath, bracing herself for the vulnerable position she would be putting herself in. "I got a call from ReyRey's friend Prim yesterday… Apparently, while I can barely make it out of bed without having a panic attack, Cameron was at The Afterlife last night-- drinking and dancing and laughing and kissing the night away with that Milligan ex-girlfriend of his that just came back to town," she revealed, pulling out her phone and handing it to Creed to scroll through the photos Prim had sent her of Hyde and JJ Milligan in various stages of the flirtation and seduction game seemingly having the time of their lives together. She had stared at the images a million times since she'd received them, but they brought a gut-wrenching pain to her heart every time she went through them. "And if that wasn't enough, they went home together, too."

Creed scrolled through the photos slowly, trying to take in whatever details he could from each one before moving on to the next. He tried to see these photos from the eyes of someone like Aleyda, but all he could think when he saw the pictures of Hyde smiling was Did he smile like that when he threw his mom down the stairs before beating Ley within an inch of her life and walking away? When he heard he was being let out early? but he made sure to keep his face carefully neutral as he handed the phone back to her. He leaned back against the booth and calmly stated, "He's a sociopath, Aleyda, he can gut someone an' half an hour later show up ta that person's birthday party actin' just as confused as everyone else when they don't show up. He's probably lyin' right ta Milligan's face, too."

He looked over to where Beau was making their order with Raf and then out the window for the continued all clear from Duke and Jokes. Finally, he returned his sights to the strongest yet most frail person he knew. "I hope you're not usin' this as some way ta blame yourself for anythin' that happened," Memories of finding her bruised and half sprawled out of the doorway of April McMahon's home during one of his routine scoutings were burned into his mind. He never asked Beau why the other man was there that day, but his steady hand on Creed's shoulder as the younger man held a battered and unconscious Ley was a godsend. "He's snapped before an' he'll snap again, and none'a that's your fault."

Aleyda shifted her gaze away from Creed and onto her lap, where she fiddled around with her fingers. “It’s just…” she began, trailing off as she felt herself getting choked up by the tears bubbling up to the surface. After a moment to compose herself but only managing to get caught up even more deeply into her feelings, Ley turned her eyes back to Creed’s as the tears began to roll down her cheeks. “How can I not blame myself when I’m the only one of his girlfriends he did this to?” she told him, holding back a sob. “The other girls got to see the charming side of him: the one who listens to every word they say, who compliments them at any chance he can get, who surprises you with flowers or gifts or dates ‘just because’. I put up with his bullshit time and time again, hoping that if I just loved him hard enough and did whatever he wanted he would go back to treating me the way he did at the beginning. I stood up for him and defended him against every person that had anything bad to say about him time and time again-- whether it was strangers, my friends... I even went against my own family to be with him. I did everything he asked me to do and more, and all I got back was being beaten within an inch of my fucking life!" Ley's voice broke, and she allowed herself to release the sobs that had been weighing on her chest. "How is any of that fair, Mal? What the fuck did I do to deserve any of this? Why did it have to be me?”

Not for the first time recently, Creed found himself struggling to find the words that the woman in his care needed to hear. After Natalia and the events at Carlisle, he had turned to a phone call with his mother to calm his worries and bolster his mind and spirit, and while his mother was like an aunt to Aleyda he wasn't sure she'd know what to tell him. Abuse like what Aleyda experienced at the hands of Cameron Hyde is outside the Briteson's wheelhouse. They could sympathize with the victims of such cruelty but Kamilla, Creed, and Jokes came from homes of warmth and love and have experienced relationships the same way. He knows logically that nothing Ley did could have stopped Hyde from snapping on her, on the day he almost killed her and all the days before that, the issue was that there isn't really an easy and gentle way to outright say that to the woman currently sobbing across from him. Not for the first time, and undoubtedly not for the last, Maliq Briteson wished he had the power to heal a loved one's pain, even if the caveat was that he felt it all himself.

Creed took a deep breath and reached across the table to gently cover Aleyda's shaking hands, giving her an anchor point and some much needed warmth as she remembered such cold and dark times.

"The hardest thing ta admit when you're tryin'a comfort someone is 'I don't know', but I'm sorry Viper, I can't give ya any of the answers you're lookin' for. Anythin' I say would just be assumption, an' all that could do is hurt ya more for no reason," Creed kept his eyes on Aleyda as he spoke, letting her know that even as she got lost in her turmoil again, she had him. He freed one of his hands to grab a napkin and pass it to her to clean up her face when she wished to. "What I can tell ya is that ya didn't deserve anythin' that that monster did t'ya.”

"How can you even be sure?" Aleyda retorted, taking the napkin she was so graciously being offered and dabbing it under her damp eyes. “For all I know, this is life's payback for all the things Papá and ReyRey have done. Or maybe I just wasn't good enough for him. Like, maybe I was too loud, or too mouthy, or I didn't do enough of what he wanted me to. Maybe if I had been nicer or, I don’t know, behaved or acted better, he would've just let me go instead of hurting me the way he did."

"You ain't about what he wants, Viper," Creed countered, his voice full of conviction and surety. "Ya never have been an' I'll be damned if ya ever will be. What's so wrong with mouthy? Ya think my pops liked my momma 'cause she was quiet? Or Jokes' parents? Ya think love means submission or somethin'?" The thought that she was still mentally under Hyde's boot ground on every nerve he had, but it ground on him even more that he just couldn't seem to help her up either. What could he say that could break years of gaslighting and severe physical trauma? "Last I heard, love was about mutual respect an' compassion an' care, not pain an' fear an' degradin'," he made sure he never lost her gaze, keeping her locked in to see he wasn't lying. "Which one were ya goin' for, an' which one did that bastard show ya? Also, I may not believe in karma but if there's one thing I do know it's that it don't attack ya for sins that ain't yours. Get that weight off your shoulders. Ya deserve love an' respect an' happiness, a'ight? An' I'll be right here by your side ta help ya find it whenever you're ready, okay?"

Maliq’s statements struck a chord with Aleyda. Although she had already addressed the topic with Shannon during therapy, the words always hit different when they came from one of the people you trusted the most. Chances were that she would never know why Cameron did what he did: that was a truth she needed to accept. Nothing would ever justify his abuse towards her, and there was no use tormenting herself with blame. What mattered was that she and Raf had survived, that she deserved better than that, and she would get better than that. It was a long road of recovery ahead; with lots of mindsets to change, patterns to modify and behaviors to unlearn. But with her family, her friends, her son and Creed by her side to give her support and strength, Ley couldn’t help but see the faintest of lights at the end of a very deep tunnel.

Beau placed the coffee onto a tray and looked across at the youngsters in the corner booth. They were feverishly locked in a conversation that was shrouded in a cloth of anxiety. The once and former literature teacher had a decent idea of what it might be and it involved a night three years prior drowned in innocent blood. Beau had been visiting Rhonda Decker that day. He was worried about her son, Charlie. He had all but completely shut down socially and academically; he was at the bottom of a barrel. Charlie had once been Beau’s prized student. He had such wisdom and such wit and a mind for the printed word. Nobody understood or took from literature like Charlie did. It was upon leaving Miss Decker’s home that he heard the yelling. Antoine’s old police instincts kicked in, he drew his gun and followed the shrill sounds. His heart almost stopped dead when he came across a bloodied Aleyda Gonzalez on the street, cradled by Maliq. He entered the house and found April McMahon unconscious. Aleyda managed to say one word: Cameron. Beau knew then that the boy had succumbed to the beast that had always been inside of him.

“Come on, little man,” Beau picked Rafi up with one hand and tucked him under his arm causing the boy to giggle. He then lifted the tray of coffee and made his way over to Creed and Ley. It was funny, seeing the young woman that sat before him and the fact he held her child under his arm. He remembered the very day she was born. He remembered Big Rey, whom he barely knew, weeping in joy on a bench in Lyon Park. How time flies. “Here you go kids, piping hot, made with love and on the house.”

Beau arrived with their order in one hand and her son tucked under his other arm. Even with the nature of the conversation she was having with Creed being heavy and serious, her son's little giggles of amusement at the way he was being carried around echoing around the cafe pulled out a small laugh from his mother, momentarily lifting her spirits. Once the items had been placed on the table, the woman turned to the owner.

"Thank you, as always, for everything." Ley told Beau, her eyes shining with budding tears of gratitude. She hoped the man would understand that her words were not limited to the excellent service he was providing for them at the moment. Although his genuine care for her well-being and lifelong kindness had always been appreciated (much like Maliq's), these days it felt like a healing balm to the invisible, lingering wounds her relationship with Cameron had left her with.

“Mon cherie, it has and always will be, my pleasure.” Beau bowed his head to the young woman and offered her his typical bright, toothy smile followed by a hearty, grandfatherly laugh. Once he placed Rafi down into the kid’s seat positioned next to the table, the elderly man placed his hands into his pockets and glanced outside. It was strange to think that only a few hours ago, the idyllic looking town on the other side of the glass was trapped in a bubble of chaos. The weather the previous night had been so extreme and in some ways, Antoine believed it was a perfect reflection of the hearts and minds of Edenridge’s faithful.

“Anything else I can do you for?”

The young woman shook her head, a ghost of a smile playing around the corners of her lips. “Nope. I’ve got everything I need right here with me.”

Marco was nearing the end of his morning shift at the Godmother and what an interesting one it had been. Between Sofi being forced to work under him and her growing suspicions about him and Danny and Marco vehemently denying every single factual fact she was throwing out (only for him to cop out to it), the arrival of someone who, quite literally, gave him the creeps. It wasn’t so much that he gave off a bad vibe. Marco rarely could tell that about a person. No, it was more about the way his boss acted around the whole thing.

In the few years the Brady-Castillos and Belmontes have been good friends with parties, BBQ’s, and more-than-casual conversations between several members of both families, Marco liked to think he was friendly with Cat in the way only a friend of her younger brother could be. She was closer to his mom’s age, so that’s how he typically viewed her. Like a tia-like figure. And in all that time, while she had always been a fierce person, he couldn’t recall a moment when she was genuinely speechless and not in a good way. Was that the reality of the situation when she saw Dexter Silo? Marco couldn’t say. He wasn’t great at judging situations he wasn’t all that familiar with. Only that it was obvious to him and Sofi that whoever that man was definitely gave off iffy vibes.

For the rest of his shift, Marco had proceeded as if nothing had happened. He filled out orders, worked his ass off during the lunch rush. His shift ended about thirty minutes after it ended, so in that time business had slowed like a flick of a switch. During that time, Marco handed things off to the Young Lad, whose shift was starting as Marco’s ended. At that point, he called Danny. Since it was indeed slow, it didn’t matter if he technically ended his actual shift now.

As the phone rang, it stopped after three rings. “Hey babe, shift’s ending pretty much now. You think you might be able to pick me up? Technically I still got fifteen minutes left, but Young Lad is here, so he’s prepping for the afternoon and prevning rush.” Marco was sitting at one of the tables outside. Literally the same one he had met up with Danny last month after nearly killing himself to catch up to his now-boyfriend (but then-estranged ex-boyfriend). How things change.

“I’m coming down the street,” Danilo was short and straight to the point. Instead of saying goodbye, the phone went dead. On top of none of his family returning last night until early in the morning, besides Sofia who shouldn’t have been in Edenridge anyways, leaving him to take care of his mother, Marco barely texted him. Too preoccupied at Swerve. Danny was annoyed. When his father and Tiff came back from wherever the hell they were, the Italian boy was quick to leave for the gym.

He was overthinking which wasn’t something he had done in years. He hated being in relationships solely because he had no idea what the other person was doing and just look at Marco? Who wouldn’t want him? He was cute as hell. Kind to the core. Absolutely loveable. Someone could steal him right from under his nose. Jealousy aside, he got most of his frustrations out in the gym, took a steamy shower, and right on schedule, Marco was finishing up work, like clockwork. Danny cared about the dude so of course he’d remember his work schedule. It wasn’t like he was worried or anything.

In his dark blue quadrifoglio, he parallel parked in front of the Godmother’s, right where Marco could see him. Might as well get a sandwich before they head out. Once his car was parked and the ignition turned off, Danny in clean activewear came out of the car, tossed his keys in the air, before catching it and pocketing it in his shorts. He strode to his boyfriend. Pulling a chair out at the table Marco was sitting at, the former Captain of the Edenridge Celtics dropped down and leaned back, giving his boyfriend his undivided attention. “You were saying?”

Marco could tell there was something off about Danny. There was no way of knowing exactly what potentially could be on his boyfriend’s mind, but he sure as hell knew what was on his - especially when Danny had abruptly hung up shortly before he parked in front of Godmother and sat down. To save what little sanity he had left, Marco opted to not assume the worst for the time being, but instead turn his attention on the fact that he could spend the last ten minutes or so with his bulky protector.

He took a very quick glance at Danny, spotting his hands were wrapped up. He had seen them when Danny got out of his car, but now that he was closer, he inspected it. “What happened there?” He asked his boyfriend, his right index finger casually pointing to Danny’s wrapped hands.

Danny had almost forgotten. Caitlin had wrapped him up after he and Mika duked it out in her bedroom. Sofi had briefly commented on it when they were playing Mario Kart but other than that? After the gym he gave himself fresh bandages, and from there, it just became part of him. “Oh this?” He casually waved his hands in front of his boyfriend. “It’s nothing. Got to see an old friend and like the good ol’ days, we took to the ring.” Not entirely a lie and not entirely true. He did see an old friend, ex-friend, and back in the day, they used to get in some of the worst exchanges because Mika liked to test him. In addition to that, their egos clashed, both fighting for recognition from Coach. That was how they communicated sometimes, through their fists. Nothing worth worrying about there. “I hope yesterday wasn’t as eventful as it was for me!” His voice boomed as he leaned back and surveyed Marco’s face for any signs of distress.

Marco raised an eyebrow at the mention of Danny’s “old friend”. And then he chuckled, “Not many of your….old friends can do that to you, huh?” He laughed again. It didn’t seem like it was bad, or else he hoped Danny would tell him. In the back of his mind, though, there was still a lot for them to work through. There was still so much they had to rediscover about each other, so maybe Marco would have to earn that part. Plus, there was still the matter of when Danny hung up on him. It still left an unsettled taste in Marco’s mouth.

When Danny asked about yesterday, Marco didn’t know where to even begin. “Funny you should mention that.” Marco hummed nervously. It was a habit of his sometimes. Making noises when he was figuring out what to say and how to say it. “You know I had a scheduled lunch with Kylee and Adam yesterday, right?” Of course, Danny knew. Marco literally told him before he got off yesterday. “Wellll, we had a little party crasher. A girl named Stacy who I literally bumped into. Turns out she was a friend of Adam’s and, boy, things got tense between the four of us quick.” And that was putting it mildly.

“Stacy…” Danny repeated after Marco. There was only one Stacy he knew of but he couldn’t assume it was that Stacy, right? He was positive Mika’s sisters didn’t live in Edenridge. Then again it wasn’t like he kept tabs on Mika’s affairs. They only just started talking again. Maybe they were visiting. It wouldn’t be so far-fetched of a thought if they visited their big brother like they did for his basketball games. “Stacy… got a surname?” Curiosity had gotten the better of him. He knew this wasn’t the point Marco was getting at but— wait, Marco said yesterday Adam was living in Pinehurst. Or lived. He recently moved back to Edenridge. Didn’t the girls live in Pinehurst? There were definitely more Stacys out there but what if… what were the chances? At this point, Danny had pulled out his phone to search through his Instagram for Stacy Čapek. Before Marco knew it, Danny pushed his phone to his boyfriend and inquisitively inquired, “This Stacy?”

Before Marco had the chance to offer the name, Marco saw the intense look in his boyfriend’s eyes. It was one of pure focus and determination. Just moments later, he slid his phone over to Marco and saw a photo of Stacy, posing for a selfie. A natural curiosity took over as he inspected the date and it was just from a week ago. “Yep, that’s her!” Marco confirmed. “Sweet girl. Though, Kylee didn’t seem to think so. I think she actually frightened her,” he commented, remembering how she was left after Adam and Kylee left them at the park. For a minute, he thought about the aftermath of that failed lunch and their awkward trek to Swerve. And then that minute left when Marco’s curiosity came back. “Wait, how did you find her so quick? I didn’t even get the chance to tell you her full name.”

Pulling his phone back and rubbing his neck with his other hand, a blush graced Marco’s boyfriend’s cheeks as he replayed the events from yesterday, he averted his eyes, not proud of his actions. “Let’s just say her family has been in the forefront of my mind since I might’ve…” he uncomfortably cleared his throat and adjusted himself in his seat. Pausing momentarily, he clasped his hands together and like a kid who just got caught stealing he muttered in an almost inaudible manner, ^{“...might’ve beat the crap out of her brother…”}

“Ah, right of course.” Marco barely heard what Danny said, but then it clicked for a moment. “Wait, you what!?” He exclaimed, his voice raising an octave and a half. When he realized how loud he spoke, he shook his head briefly, inhaling and exhaling a couple breaths. He took another moment to think about what Danny had said. He ran into an old friend and it was someone who could match him for his strength. The only old friends were those on the basketball team when they were still in high school and of those, Marco could only recall one, maybe two, that were as stocky as his boyfriend was.

But who could it be?

Marco thought about it. He had Stacy’s face in his mind. And Katie, too, since they were sisters. And Danny said Stacy’s family was on his mind lately. “Wait!” Marco had an a-ha moment, slamming his balled right hand in his left. “Of course why didn’t I see it! She looks so much like Mika!” Marco was thinking out loud, astonished by his realization. “Dang, I didn’t know he had sisters.” Marco was having himself a mind blowing moment. This was the last thing he expected when he spent yesterday with the Capek sisters. Or would they be the Zima sisters? Wild stuff Marco was finding out in the last minutes of his work shift.

Good.

Marco was distracted by his revelation rather than the fact that Danny beat up his old basketball mate. Sitting up, Danny tapped his fingers on the table before quickly changing the subject, “So anyways!” It was time to turn the tables and face the heat toward his ‘innocent’ geek. “Aside from your Kylee lunch that turned dramatic, because I mean it’s Kylee, how was your night? At Swerve? Who was there?” Now Danny was in hound mode, aggressively pushing for the answers he sought. Who was Marco with and why didn’t he give him an update this morning? Danny didn’t like policing his boyfriend but this was unlike Marco. Usually a night of games and fun, he’d call or text Danny as soon as possible to eagerly share the events that transpired. Why hadn’t he for this one? What was he hiding?

Crapbaskets.

He tried not to let it show, but almost as soon as Danny had pressed about what happened after his originally-planned lunch date with Adam and Kylee went off the rails for reasons that Marco still didn’t quite understand, he had tensed up. It mostly was in his stomach. Like the feeling of it sinking so low that it caused a noticeable change in his demeanor. Marco was never great at keeping that poker face that his younger siblings seemed to excel at, but especially around the one person who probably knew him better than his own mother did. Marco also had a weakness when he was around Danny, so his below average poker face may as well have been a poker fake as far as he was concerned.

“It was…fine. The usual suspects were there. Avery was there. So was Rosie. Bronagh Miligan showed up too.” Even recalling it for his boyfriend, Marco still was feeling the shock value of just how…forward Bron was. “Lot of people ended up turning up when the storm got pretty bad. Oz ended up giving Stacy and this kid Sal a bit of a scare. Actually…it was a big scare.” Of all the people Marco mentioned, maybe he intentionally omitted Stacy’s sister. He felt a tightness in his throat, feeling an odd sensation of guilt or something close to it by hiding it. So he had to just swallow it. “Stacy’s sister was there, too. So it was kind of a full house for the night. Just a bunch of nerds doing nerdy things, y’know? Nothing too exciting.” If Marco knew that was a bullshit excuse, there was no telling just how quickly his boyfriend would catch onto that one.

“Nothing too exciting…” Danny repeated after his boyfriend. Clasping his hands together he cracked his knuckles in thought. His stomach began to growl which signaled that he needed to eat. He stood up to give Marco some time with his thoughts to do the right thing and tell him what was on his mind. “I’m going to get myself a sandwich. Do you want anything?” With how Marco elongated his words and dragged things on, Danny now knew something did happen last night and what he was going to hear might not make him happy. It was best he ate so his hunger wouldn’t influence his anger.

He knew he fucked up. Big time. Danny didn’t have to say it because Marco knew it. The tense feeling in his body only worsened when he saw that look in Danny’s eyes. If he could read Marco, the same was the case vice versa. It wasn’t that Marco didn’t want to confess what happened. It was, after all, a dare. And it’s not like he could necessarily say no. Peer pressure and everything. But he didn’t know how to even begin without dragging his friends through the mud. “A reuben. Extra crout.” Marco’s voice came off a bit hoarse. And rushed. He didn’t say anything after that. Just remained in his head, torn about how to proceed to the eventual part of this conversation that was eating away at Marco’s mental sanity.

“Got it.”

Danny didn’t give Marco much of a glance when he strode to the glass entrance to his sister’s shop and disappeared in it. When he did reach the counter he saw a face he didn’t expect. Danny knew Sofia was in Edenridge. He spent all night with her playing Mario Kart but what he didn’t expect was Cat bringing her here to work. The Young Lad was slicing cheese on the side when Danny met his niece’s curious gaze. “Reuben with extra crout and I’ll take a caprese sandwich.”

“Coolio. Heyo dude,” Sofia turned to the Young Lad who narrowed his eyes at her. “You heard my uncle. He needs two sandwiches. Stat. I can totally cut the cheese.” The teenage girl playfully grinned at her new trainer, who huffed in response but was far too lazy to counter the child. Danny smirked at how Sofi was behaving. She was always a little troublemaker. He wondered where she got that from; he searched the grocer part of the sandwich shop to find his sister. She was nowhere to be found. When Sofi took over the Lad’s cheesy duties, grabbing half a wheel of Parmiggiano Reggiano, she slowly began slicing it with the contraption that cut meat and cheese and whatever. This cheese was HUGE! “So I see you’re grilling Marco outside,” Sofi nonchalantly brought up. “What did he do?”

“None of your business,” Danny curtly answered. He didn’t have the patience to entertain Sofi’s childlike tendencies. She was such a curious cat, sticking her nose into other people’s affairs. Glancing at his wrist watch, he asked, “How ‘bout you? Your mom beat your ass yet?”

Rolling her eyes, Sofia grimaced, “Ha, ha, very funny.” She did raise an eyebrow at him cursing, not used to hearing her uncle have no filter. For as long as she could remember, Danny wasn't one to use vulgarity to get his point across. It seemed times were changing. He was also so hard to open up, never faltering from his strong, manly persona. Sofi, however, knew how to get under his skin and how to make him lose his cool. It was a gift of her’s. But did she want to be in more heat than she already was? Now that was the question. “Surprisingly, she’s in a much better mood. She actually gave my phone back. Can you believe that shit? I don’t know what happened from now to an hour or so ago when her ex walked in here but man, am I happy.”

“Her ex?” Danny rubbed his chin as he listened to his niece. Did his sister’s ex put her in a better mood? “Cat hasn’t dated in years. I remember Gabe vaguely because he still gets in contact with her from time to time. But by the time I could even remember faces she was already married to Tommy.”

“Gabe?” Sofia stopped slicing cheese and glanced up at her uncle. She was learning a lot about her mother today. Her mom never did talk about her past, especially her teen years, likely because she wanted a fresh start away from the men she once upon a time loved. It sounded like Sofia would need to investigate this more. Her relationship with her dad never really felt right. There was this weird disconnect that she didn’t know how to explain. From today’s chain of events, Sofia was coming to realize that maybe her father wasn’t her father. Maybe her father was one of the many lovers her mother had in highschool.

Ah.

So it wasn’t Gabe.

If it wasn’t Gabriel that Sofia saw then it must’ve been the one that Nina would continuously say ‘we don’t talk about him’ or ‘don’t even say his name’. What the hell was Dexter doing in town and why was he seeing his sister? More importantly though, why was his sister happy because of that? “Darling. Gabriel Darling. One of your mom’s first friends when we moved here. She dated him for a little bit but due to his mother being incredibly rude, he broke things off with Cat. Or she broke things off. I don’t know the specifics. You’d have to talk to Nina or Elisa.”

“Interesting,” Sofia thoughtfully said out loud as she gingerly grabbed the slices of cheese and put them in their designated compartment. She’d have to call Ricky after this was all said and done. They needed to go scavenger hunting. Probably in Papa’s basement. That was a goldmine for her family’s past.

Danny was taking a long time. That’s what Marco had said five minutes ago. He didn’t know if his boyfriend was taking his time intentionally or if there was something else keeping him. He knew Sofi was inside somewhere, so maybe they were talking about her day. Or maybe Marco was trying to avoid the grim truth that something was off. Of course, he knew what and he had a suspicion that Danny knew as well. Probably not the specifics, but nobody read him as well as Danny Belmonte did. And that was, Marco couldn’t keep a brave face knowing that Danny was thinking less of him.

And maybe that’s the reason for why he was taking so long.

God, Marco hated this. It’s not like what happened at Swerve last night was anything bad. Marco refusing to tell Danny was worse than the actual act itself. It was a kiss as part of a dare. What would he have to feel guilty about? Katie Capek actually helped him out. Marco wasn’t going to do anything and she saved him from the almost-embarrassment of not fulfilling his duty as what Bron deemed the law of Truth and Dare. Still, it was eating away at him. It didn’t matter if it didn’t seem bad by normal standards, Marco was convincing himself that what happened was terrible and by it being on his mind, Marco couldn’t shake the feeling it would only get worse.

But then his mind wandered elsewhere. He remembered that Danny avoided something himself. Whether he didn’t want to talk about it or not, there was something there. It was obvious that Mika Zima’s family was involved in both of their nights and/or mornings. Marco getting to know his sisters and Danny’s history and friendship and not-friendship with Mika, there was something there. Marco was not only sure of it, but why didn’t he want to talk about that?

Eventually, Marco heard the bell from the entrance of Godmother go off and Danny was walking out. Before he could say anything, his sandwich was not-so-gently tossed in front of him. He didn’t know what to make of it, so he didn’t say anything about it. He just took the sandwich as he saw Danny take his seat in front of him. It was quiet for a few moments that led into a half of a minute of such a tense silence, even a sharp knife couldn’t cut through it. Danny was mad and instead of speaking, Marco probably should say something. It was just like with his father. Silently judging but not saying anything. Always gotta let the other make the first move.

“So…your hands.” He pointed at his boyfriend’s bandaged hands. His voice was hoarse and rough, so he coughed to clear it up. “You said that Mika’s family was at the forefront of things, right? Clearly he isn’t the only one we’ve had encounters with. Me with his sisters and you with…him? Did something happen between you two? I’m a bit surprised. I thought you two weren’t friends anymore. At least, I haven’t heard you talk about him at all lately. Did things change?”

Chewing his sandwich, not answering immediately, Danny enjoyed it in quiet bliss, making his boyfriend wait — wait until he was ready. He let Marco watch him eat, just how he’s watched him eat many times before. When his sandwich was completely gone, it didn’t take Danny long to eat because he took large bites, the Italian man reached for his water and started chugging it. Once the glass was half empty, he placed it down, making sure the sound of it reaching the table could be heard by his beloved. His Puppy. “Oh, so you care about who I associate with?” He sarcastically asked, as he leaned in his seat. “It’s nothing really. We ran into each other and decided to fight. How does that sound?”

“That’s not what I..” His voice fell silent, looking down as he bit into his sandwich. Marco hated this kind of confrontation, or feeling like he was about to enter that area code. He hated feeling like he did something wrong. He knew he didn’t mean anything by his questions. He just wanted to know about what happened to Danny’s hands. But if Danny didn’t want to talk about it, he wouldn’t press him about it. He already was panicking as it was and just taking a few bites of his sandwich was becoming increasingly difficult for him, given his state of mind. “Forget I said anything, then. Sorry you guys fought.” Marco spoke flatly, almost devoid of most emotion. “I think I might finish this later. You think you can just take me home? Or I can walk if you’d prefer it.” Since you don’t even want to talk to me.

Guilt tripping.

Danny hated when he did this.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Danny mentally debated if he should keep the pettiness going or throw a bone in hopes that Marco would open up to him. This was so annoying. He didn’t want to give in. He didn’t want to be the first one to throw in the towel. Marco had this way of making him feel weak and he hated that feeling. No matter the issue, he would be the one doing all the carrying, he would be the one putting in all the work, and he would be the one that had to build the bridge of understanding. Sometimes Danny wished his boyfriend would yell at him, at least they’d get somewhere with that.

“Don’t do that,” Danny growled, frustrated at Marco’s stubbornness and the game he always wanted to play. “Don’t turn this on me like I’m the bad guy.” He didn’t raise his voice but the man that sat in front of Marco was getting visibly more angry by the second. “I get it you couldn’t text me because of the storm but why are you acting like you shot a guy or something? If you did something, I would much rather you just tell me but no. I’m not allowed to feel, okay, fine.” Standing up on his feet, Danny left his empty plate and glass of water on the table, pushing his chair in. “You want to go, let’s go. I’m not going to make you walk when your leg is fucked.” He bit his cheek when he cursed, hearing his parents giving him grief even if they weren’t around to chastate him.

Great. He’s even angrier than before.

Marco didn’t want to have a fight. He didn’t want to be the reason they broke up again. He didn’t want to do anything wrong, yet without even saying anything, he’s already started to fuck up the best thing in his life by avoiding what he should just…dive head-first into. Maybe it would’ve gone a lot smoother if he had just been honest upfront, but Danny wasn’t being honest with him either. That’s the part that was tearing Marco up the most. While he could acknowledge his wrongdoings, what was Danny hiding that made him not want to talk about his hands and why he and Mika Zima were fighting?

As he wrapped his sandwich up and walked beside his boyfriend, he kept Danny’s feelings in mind. Maybe it wasn’t fair for him to ask Danny about his hands if he didn’t expand on what happened at Swerve more. That was the root of this whole thing. Even before he came to pick him up, Marco hadn’t told him even the slightest thing about what went down last night. The excuse of the storm was behind them. He couldn’t hide behind that. Marco wasn’t the boy from high school who could just expect some outlandish results without giving some first.

They were at his car and as they both got inside, before Danny could start the engine, Marco just started to talk. “I’m not..I mean, it’s not that I did something or anything for that manner. Not what you probably think, that is. Last night was a…packed night at Swerve. There were stories and laughs and wild antics that honesty were a bit uncomfortable at times. Bron adopted this whole dominatrix-Dungeon Master hybrid persona and we did Truth or Dare. A lot of it was silly, some of it was crazy, and the rest was embarrassing.” His throat felt tight and it was understandable, given everything that happened. He gripped his sandwich in his lap, looking at it intensely, but after a few moments, he brought his eyes up and looked towards his boyfriend. “I know I have no right to know what happened to your hands if I don’t tell you what’s been eating at me since last night. Mika and you may have fought, but his sister - not Stacy, but her more forward twin, Katie - was..assertive. We were dared to make out. And I wasn’t sure about it. I froze up. I didn’t want to, but eyes were on us. Katie saw how I was sweating about it, getting lost in my head about it and what to do, so she kind of helped me. Did it convincingly, too. She made sounds that were…sexual. And totally on her end. Did it to the point where it seemed to satisfy DM Bron. But even after the fact, I just…I don’t know, I guess I didn’t want to tell you because I thought you might be mad at me or something.”

When Danny finally got what he wanted, he suddenly and abruptly bursted out laughing. “Wait, hold up…” He covered his face with one hand and laughed louder, trying to speak in between each roar and snicker. “That’s it?” He needed to stop laughing. It was rude but he didn’t expect it to be so innocent. Fucking hell why was Marco so cute? Holding his stomach and trying to calm down, he let his outburst take its course, his eyes tearing up, before making a serious face, “No you’re right, playing party games with friends is soooooooo wrong.” The jock in Danny was showing as he playfully mocked his boyfriend.

After Marco had told him everything he could about last night, he thought he would be mad at him, thought that maybe he’d have something to say about the kiss that still haunted Marco to this very moment, he was speechless when Danny had burst into such a state of laughter that he couldn’t keep it together. And though in a humorous way, this irked Marco, especially when Danny started to mock him. “It’s not funny! This was giving me major anxiety, Danny!” Marco pouted at his boyfriend, trying to get him to see that this was no laughing manner, yet somewhere inside, he was relieved that he wasn’t angry with him in any way.

“Come here,” Danny grinned, pulling Marco’s shirt and with ease bringing his boyfriend to him. When Marco’s lips touched his, Danny held his head close, firmly, and let their lips linger in a dance that was becoming a pleasant routine of theirs, even slipping a little tongue. There was an instance where he forgot they were out on a busy street in his car but with how adorable Marco was being, he couldn’t help himself. It was liberating to know how much Marco cared about him. After all this time, his Puppy still loved him. When he was satisfied, taking his sweetheart’s breath away, he realized where he was, released the boy and scanned the area to make sure there weren't any eyes on them. He was fortunate his windows were tinted but still, you never know who was passing by. There were creeps, freaks and gossip moms out here. “Never change, Pup.” His shoulders eased, relaxed to know his worries were for nought. He started up his car.

Leaving his parking spot, he tapped his fingers on his steering wheel before exasperatedly sighing, “So my hands…” He paused, hesitant to divulge the events of yesterday. Cece’s relationship with David and Mika had been kept secret for years. If he exposed this, would his best friend feel some type of way? He didn’t know. He kept the secret of her lovers so locked tight that up until he saw Mika again yesterday, he forgot it even existed. Regardless of the circumstances, he needed to honor his relationship. He hoped Caitlin would understand. “You have to promise me, whatever is said in this car, stays in this car. Will you do that for me?” Danny took another quick glance at his lover. “Promise me?”

Once outside was cleaned from the coffee disaster, JP taking multiple trips with a cup of water to wash the liquid away from the front of Main Street Music, and Gavriel getting Ave’s water to drink, the three were sitting on a sofa by the instrument corner. They were surrounded by mostly guitars. JP sat on the arm, leaving the couch for his lover and his friend, and absentmindedly strummed his own guitar to Twin Flame by the Gallows, which was part of their unfinished album. Only five phantom tapes existed and he had one. He was a lucky boy.

The song was on the slower side, an acoustic-ballad, similar to the song Bushido from their first album. The story followed two people finding one another through happenstance, and because of that, their wicks ignite. Despite the darkness inside of them, the overwhelming loneliness, they replenish each other’s illumination, unafraid of the creeping shadow that follows them wherever they go. All thanks to the fact that they have one another.

JP believed this song was about Esther and Aponi, though one could easily see the platonic side of each chord, each note and each lyric. He let Aves drink her water in silence as he gently sang the words, hoping this helped her spirit, soul and mind. “You look familiar, have we met before? After many lives forevermore, connecting from under the skin, one light out of a magical twin. I found my dreams but the moon took me away… away from her, my soul flame…”

Holding the cup in between both hands, Avery watched JP play a song she had never heard before. “Did you write this?” She inquisitively asked. Listening to the chords made her think of a rainy day, meeting someone you were fated to deeply love. The person that was a true and honest reflection of who you were. Through space and time, one moment with this person makes anything and everything else pale in comparison. Every rule you’ve ever had before this one person, you knew deep down you’d break it because that was the feeling of inevitability. The feeling that without this person you would not exist. Together, you were home in a cosmic dance, bodies made of celestial light. Every cell in your body, on fire. A beautiful collision. “It’s really good.”

“Ha,” JP continued to strum his guitar, no longer singing the lyrics. He gave a handsome smile, the one his lover adored the most. The smile that told Rye he was at peace and that nothing mattered but this moment, an ever present smile. “I wish,” he chuckled to himself. “Nah, this is a Gallows song. They never got to record it in the studio, and I only got a rough sound bit from a jam session. I hope it does sound good because this is my best translation of what I heard.”

His attention, along with the song he was playing, was pulled away when he noticed Lamb. When did she come into the building? She stood out like a sore thumb. As much as she hated the Scott Street vibe, she always dressed like the Scott Street vibe. He wondered… would his cousin be able to handle herself?

Returning his gaze to the two on the sofa, he pushed his thoughts to the back burner and gave his guitar a pat. “Music aside, do you feel better?” Jericho inquired. His eyes went from Avery’s to Rye’s. His stare softened in clear adoration and then went back to strumming to his heart’s content. The only other people here right now were his cousin and Lamb. He knew his cousin wasn’t going to leave anytime soon so he didn’t have to worry and be an outstanding employee in this instant. With no immediate customers to assist, he chose to stay in his element, doing what he loved and did best. Playing music and making someone feel better. If Lamb needed him he was sure she’d get him, she wasn’t one to hesitate when she needed something especially when it came to buying music for her father.

“Oh wow, that’s neat,” Avery admitted, while subconsciously texting Clayton an update: Holyfuckingshit. I might be dead because Jamie, me, us… we kissed. I’m def ded. Glancing from her phone to the musical prodigy, she raised an eyebrow in intrigue. She didn’t realize there were secret remnants of gold from a timeless band. Short lived but not forgotten. Remnants that true die-hards would love to get their hands on. “And I’m getting there, I think. I still can’t believe that just happened honestly. She told me not to overthink it and how badly she wanted it, she wanted me. I can’t lie and say I didn’t want it. God, I still want it. I want her. But fuck guys, she’s married.” Avery internally scolded herself as she anxiously tapped her fingers on the plastic cup she was holding. “Avery Kaine, the woman that broke up a goddamn marriage.”

“Because as we all know: in Edenridge, adultery is the worst and most scandalous thing that can happen,” Rye replied with a raised eyebrow for the blonde, shifting to face her fully and putting his feet up between them as he rested his head on JP’s thigh. The vibrations from the guitar thrummed pleasantly in his skull and he closed his eyes for a short moment to just enjoy his lover’s talent before returning his attention to the blonde. “Sweet summer child, you’re talking to the legal step brothers that never stopped being lovers when their moms got married. And how do you know there wasn’t something that was breaking the marriage up already?” The younger man watched Avery’s face for her response, content to read her lips and expression while keeping his head where it was against JP behind his guitar.

“That doesn’t make what I did right,” Avery retorted, dreading the consequences of her actions. Her gaydar did think it was weird that Jamie married Russ of all people but she had no choice but to accept that’s what her dream girl wanted. It was also a marriage the Gossip moms would never look too deep into. A perfect cover up. Even with that being said, the Queen of Freaks & Geeks didn’t do anything crazy. She was a girl that worked at a comic book store and the most interesting thing about her life was the comics she read, sold, and exchanged, as well as all the people that found comfort and safety in her dad’s business. “Like I’ve never done something so irrational, so motivated by emotion before. All I could think of was: this could be my only chance to kiss Jamie and now that it’s over, I’m sitting in the aftermath and wondering where it’s going to go wrong.”

This was Edenridge, after all.

“You’re sounding a bit like me right now, and I’m a fan of having a monopoly on myself,” The curly haired man bantered while also giving her a concerned glance. “You weren’t exactly the aggressor, for lack of a better word, like she totally initiated that little session y’all had that fogged up MSM’s windows,” he feigned a slight swoon and fanned at his face. “Honestly I think somehow that caused some good karma ‘cause it sure lit up my day.”

As his lover and friend talked to one another, Jericho did look over his shoulder to search for Lamb, only to find Sadie at a distance mad dogging him. He rolled his eyes and told her non-verbally to just go up to her and be cool. It was clear his cousin needed approval to take this leap of faith. When she finally started making her way to Laura, he breathed out in relief and wished her good luck internally. Sadie was such a silly goose sometimes.

Smirking at Rye’s comments, Avery took a small sip of water. He was right. Jamie was the initiator which was great because that meant her feelings were reciprocated. It was also not great because it gave her hope when there might not be any. “You know what’s wild? I used to have game and be able to sleep with whatever girl I wanted. Bron basically threw herself on me last night and—”

“She did what?” JP stopped strumming his guitar, bringing himself back to the conversation happening around him. He was getting more and more invested by Avery’s life by the minute. Who knew Aves would get caught up with such scandalous drama. Certainly not him. “It’s on brand for Bron but I don’t remember you two being in the same circle. She was at Swerve?”

“Eeyupp,” Avery laughed to herself, the rim of the cup against her lips. She took a gulp this time. “Last night was weird, but basically we were playing games, she gave me a lap dance, and she had Katie recording it.”

“Yeah, and then what?” JP probed.

“Then they sent the video to Jamie and I DIED.” Aves exclaimed, the embarrassment no longer inside her from yesterday. She could tell these two were great at distracting. She should talk to them more often.

JP grinned from ear to ear. Sounds like Swerve Arcana had a party and he wasn’t invited. “That was enough to inspire Jamie, huh?” He teased, placing his guitar to the side, leaning it up against the table. Running his fingers through Rye’s hair, he observed the older woman (his senior when he was a sophomore) eagerly waiting for the tea.

After placing her cup back down, she ran her hand through her own hair and squinted her face, “Not necessarily.” This was getting good. She knew, because it happened to her. “Jamie came by randomly that day. Scared the shit out of me. So I’m being cool, right? Showing her around since she’s literally never been inside of Swerve, ever. She asks me to show her a story and I,” Avery paused momentarily. Leaning toward the two boys, like she was going in to tell them a secret, the suave geek continued, “I told her ‘Why don’t we make a story together?” To emphasize her pick up line, Aves jokingly wiggled her eyebrows.

“Oh man, I should’ve had you as my wingman during the game with my best friend in highschool,” Rye laughed, pushing into the pressure of his love’s fingers on his head. His curls were going to look ridiculous once JP was done playing with it, but it was always a habit of the older man’s and Rye never much cared when his curls frizzed out from being played with. He always longed for physical contact from those he loved, so some curls becoming uncoupled was a small price to pay for the attention he craved. “I feel like corny lines are the way to go, honestly. There’s something much more pure about that,” He said supportively. “Everyone says they hate cheesy jokes until they’re laughing at a pun you made right before you go down on them.”

“Hey it’s just how I be,” Avery commented, surveying JP as he played with his lover’s hair. “I must’ve did something right if it inspired Jamie to make a move.” Finally, she was able to leave the heated embrace with her dream girl as it was and not overthink the consequences that could occur because of it. It happened, she couldn’t take it back nor would she want to. Jamie kissed her and Jamie kissed her back. She’d take the moment for what it was, which was just that: a moment. “I hope this doesn’t mean things are going to be weird between us, but if it is, it is what it is. Now!” Aves clasped her hands together and changed the subject. She jested and asked, “Enough about me. How are you two? Things good in Loversville? Not staying up all night fucking are you? Sleep is important.”

Rye laughed and turned his face into JP’s thigh, enjoying Avery’s candor and abrupt turning of the tables. “I flipped my shit on him last night only to pass out wrapped around him like a koala. Didn’t get too much sleep,” He smirked at her, giving her the silent answer to the second part of her question. “I’m still crazy and anxious and no doubt there are more talks on the horizon, but ultimately I’m glad my dumb ass decided to schlep through a storm on the high of a panic attack.” He reached up and grabbed JP’s hand now that the man had stopped playing the guitar, gently running his thumb over the other’s knuckles and smiling up at him.

Jericho gazed down at his boyfriend. He looked deeply into the other man’s pretty and big brown eyes, warm and polished, like amber when the sun seeps into their window. JP knew Rye’s fears, what made him sad, what made him smile, what made him laugh. He’d like to think his Sprinkles knew the details about him, even through the silence, but he also knew there were some things he would never know unless he told him. Spoke it outloud.

An ongoing struggle was sharing the little things that made it seem like JP was not as put together as he liked to be. Briefly, the musician went into a daze, getting lost in the deep gaze of his lover, as they gently touched each other with their hands. He snapped out of it. It seemed like he didn’t realize he was staring for a moment too long. Continuing the conversation, like he wasn’t just lost in thought, JP sighed and earnestly expressed, “That was my fault.” Bringing his attention back to Aves, he continued while keeping his touch in contact with his soul flame, “I wasn’t clear with some things.”

Rye did his best not to frown as he noticed his lover’s loss of focus before he spoke up. He changed their grasp from him holding JP’s hand to twining their fingers together, tightening his grip both lovingly and to let the man know that he could see him. He knew that he’d been wrapped up in his own crazy since returning from taking care of his savta, and he knew that JP was his rock. He just wanted the older man to know that Rye could be his rock too, if he’d let him. This wasn’t his complex of picking up broken beings and trying to stave off their complete shattering by befriending them, this was a matter of the man he’d loved before he ever understood it not feeling like he could ‘add on’ to Rye’s emotional load. He had room for everybody. He had to.

“I mean I was definitely also to blame,” He countered, having managed to keep any tells off of his face when he returned his gaze to Avery. “I’m great at reading lips and faces, horrible at reading changes happening around me. Plus I overreacted like crazy and didn’t stop to… smell the flowers,” He grinned brightly up at JP, as proud of his little joke as he was sure it would make most lovers groan in dismay. His inability to see or smell his favorite flower as he entered the apartment was something that still left him a bit ashamed, given that it would have at least given him enough pause to not start hurling accusations and insecurities at the man who was just trying to do something sweet. “My Apollo was doing his best, and I wasn’t slowing down enough to see it.”

“You didn’t overreact. Your emotions are valid,” JP grumbled, furrowing his eyebrows. He stared at Rye, not really caring if Avery was about to witness a lovers’ quarrel. Main Street Music was a place he was more himself than his home. It was the place he spent the most time at. Aves would know because she had her own in Swerve Arcana. “I intentionally withheld information from you and it led to you thinking I abandoned you. All because I couldn’t say what was on my mind? That was a jackass thing for me to do.” JP couldn’t even enjoy Rye’s joke and the fact that he was trying to lighten the mood because deep down, he still wasn’t over last night. They put brakes on it and went straight to sex but there was still information that JP withheld. He wasn’t being completely honest and it irritated him that Rye was so forgiving when he was not in the wrong. JP was. “I wasn’t doing my best, and I think you know that.”

Rye shifted uncomfortably under his lover’s gaze, which had become a different shade of intense than they had been when looking down at him earlier. He avoided Avery’s eyes as his own found their way to his feet. He didn’t like being told what he knew, but JP also wasn’t wrong; he was hurt that the older man couldn’t have just said something, and finding his stuff gone or boxed up had been extremely triggering for the anxious man. It had reminded him of when Decky left and he got no closure. More crushingly, it had reminded him of the day he woke up in his house back in Cleveland, where he’d come out of his room and his mother was in the kitchen drinking a glass of wine and staring out at their family portrait on the living room wall by the front door. He had come out to his parents the night before and it had ended in his mother declaring to Yosef that they would be getting a divorce. He had never imagined that his father would spend all night packing just to leave before his son awoke while Gavriel himself had had to take his medication to get to sleep. It was the only reason he had slept through everything and missed the chance to see his father one last time. To think he had left so quickly just to avoid having to interact with Gavriel again. It hurt.

“You weren’t trying to hurt me,” He finally replied, dragging his eyes up to watch JP’s face. This is the man that holds Rye together when he thinks he's falling apart, how can he hold one misjudgement against him? “You weren’t trying to scare me or be cruel, a-at least I don’t think you were, and I can work through some of my own shit about why I reacted how I did. I’m not going to hold a grudge against you for not communicating fully or-or correctly or whatever, especially when I wasn’t either,” He doesn’t talk about his father. JP may know that Rye has abandonment issues, he may know that Rye doesn’t talk to his father, but the younger man had never actually told the story or circumstances behind it. How it was his fault. JP couldn’t have understood the level of pain he’d caused with his actions because Rye had never opened up on that particular matter.

And no matter what JP said, he knew he overreacted, and he knew he was a wreck, and that he could let his anxieties take over and rule his rational thought. He also knew that when he was adrift, getting tossed to and fro in the raging ocean of his anxieties, JP was the lighthouse he steered towards. When JP is the cause, rare as the circumstance may be, Rye feels like he’s drowning and can’t find shore until things are resolved. In times like these where the worst of it is over but things still aren’t fully resolved, it’s like he’s just keeping his head above water, searching for his lighthouse before the next wave crashes down and sends him back under. He swallowed back all of these feelings and thoughts as he declared, “You’re allowed to be human and fuck up sometimes too, you know.”

He was right. As much as JP wanted to argue Rye’s point, he knew his worst enemy was himself. It was hard to dismantle this part of him. There was a reason Rye didn’t talk about his father and there was a reason JP didn’t either. Their paternal figures were a sore spot for the both of them. The main difference was JP had hints and enough information from Gavriel to know why he had as many insecurities as he did, likely rooting back to his father. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to see Rye’s daddy issues. It impacted his love life and Decky suddenly leaving without a word set him back ten fold. He would know because JP had to pick up the pieces. Rye didn’t even have to say much for JP to understand what he wanted and needed. Communication was something Rye was always good at, even if sometimes he communicated too much. It was Rye who made the first move. As abrasive and impulsive as he can be, the younger man knew how to speak his mess into existence and let people know he was doing his best. And that’s all he could do. His best.

Jericho didn’t care that he didn’t know every little detail about his boyfriend. He sure as hell hadn’t told Rye everything. All he wanted was the man he saw a future with to be okay. That goal wasn’t the most unattainable when there were only things that Rye could resolve. Jericho didn’t like feeling useless but Rye was caught in a vicious cycle and he had no idea how to pull him out. Like Rye, he was doing his best but it sucked that he was the cause for his lover’s pain last night. He should’ve just opened up and told him. Sadly, JP was caught in his own vicious cycle. One that prevented him from speaking his mess into existence because he didn’t want to be seen as unreliable and weak. “You’re right,” JP forfeited the battle, trying to force a smile. He clearly had more on his mind than he’d ever like to admit. He opened his mouth to say something more.

“JP, yo! Register,” Sadie called out from the other side of MSM, distracting him from his thought process.

Leisurely, he tapped Rye to sit up and hopped up to his feet from the arm rest. “I’ll be back. Work calls me,” Jericho saluted Avery and Rye, walking backwards, away from the instrument corner. Turning on his heel, the prodigal music boy strolled away, his thumbs hooked in his pant’s pockets.

Avery observed the lovers’ quarrel unfold and then proceeded to see JP’s back get further and further away. She gazed into Rye’s brown eyes, seeking connection if that’s what he wanted and needed. “You okay?” She asked with a kind heart, a worried mind, and an empathetic soul. She didn’t expect the turn of events but if Rye needed her guidance, she would happily provide it. It was the least she could do for him, especially for his actions the past few minutes. Providing her a much needed distraction from Jamie.

Rye gave a hollow laugh and grabbed a pillow from the couch to wrap his arms around, meeting Avery’s eyes briefly before his gaze found his feet once more, this time planted firmly on the ground. “Am I ever?” He joked before clearing his throat and looking over to JP. “Sorry. No, not really. I’m not- not good, I mean. I want him to talk to me. I know I talk too much but I need him to talk more. I don’t think I’m like him…I can’t just look at someone and know what they want, I mean I’ve spent my whole life feeling like I’m playing a board game that everyone but myself has the rules for,” His gaze diverted to Avery once more before returning to the floor. “He always knows how to help me, but I don’t know how to help him. I think most of my ability to comfort people is just dumb luck, and it doesn’t apply with him at all,” the pillow was collapsing under his tight grasp, and he took a moment to just breathe and relax his white knuckled grip on the rough woven fabric. “Sorry. He’s just the best thing that ever happened to me and I can see him hurting, I’ve always seen him hurting but I’ve never been able to help, like he doesn’t open up and it leads to stupid misunderstandings like the one that fucked me up last night.”

Leaning forward, clasping her hands together, she glanced over to Gavriel who was seeking comfort and direction. He was hard on himself, just like JP was. He had daddy issues, just like JP did. He cared deeply, just like JP always has. Those two boys had more common threads than either probably knew. One simply showed his demons more openly and coped by speaking. The chaos that was in Rye’s mind likely wasn’t too different from the chaos in his soulmate’s mind but they grew up in different environments. Rye, an only child, only had to worry about himself and now is trying to be a change in people’s lives because of the loneliness he suffered as a kid. JP, the only boy out of four, had no choice but to worry about everyone but himself and now is stuck in a mentality that if he breaks, everything around him will fall apart. Two sides of the same coin, that complimented each other beautifully. They both simply needed to change their perspective.

“I’m going to give you a piece of advice, warranted or not,” Avery started, reflective and not shifting her position where her elbows rested on her thighs. “My parents are stupid for each other but they taught me a thing or two about having a strong, lasting marriage. Maybe that’s why I can’t get over Jamie,” the geek smiled, getting back to her true self, which wasn’t anxiety ridden. She was level headed, most of the time, with a goofy personality. Aves wasn’t known for letting the unknowns eat at her. She knew, even alone, she was content and happy. Having Jamie would make her life ten times better but she didn’t need Jamie. She desired her, she wanted to compliment her, she wanted to make her smile, but without Jamie? She would always be Avery Kaine, the token geek of Class of 2017.

“When you look at Jericho, I imagine you just know. He is your person. Whether he’s talked about his past or not, there’s more things that weave your souls together than you know. I won’t go too deep into his life, since I’m sure you want to hear it from his lips, and no, he didn’t tell me the details. Sable did. JP’s hand was forced and all he’s ever known is: I have to stand and carry. I have to soak your tears. If I don’t, what happens to me? Will I be okay? Will they leave me? Will I fail them so bad that they want nothing to do with me? I wish I could take their pain away. I wish I could carry it all. If they’re not okay, I’m not okay.” Unclasping her hands, she leaned back and locked her eyes with Rye and gave a kind smile, “Sound familiar?” She let the silence between them speak for itself.

In hopes that Rye would process all her words, she stayed quiet for a little bit longer before urging, “I want you to try your best to break the notion that you are his rock and he is yours. Or lighthouse or whatever cliche you probably got your mind wrapped around. A rock never moves. Neither does a lighthouse. We are organic beings, we’re always moving.”

Rye allowed himself a moment of open embarrassment as the usually fun and geeky girl gave him the gift of words and showed him that she could read in between his own. If he wasn’t aware of how golden what she was presenting to him was- JP’s anxieties he hides, his daily mental fights he keeps hidden from even those he loves most- he’d have joked about her being psychic or breaking the fourth wall as if they’re in a book or a show. But the truth was that it was just Avery, and she was fantastic at watching, listening, and absorbing. This town was damn lucky that she wasn’t an unbearable gossip.

Tapping her pointer finger on her right leg, she thought of her own personal journey and why she was so deeply and madly in love with Jamie after all these years. Why she couldn’t look away no matter how many times she tried. “To expect he will never move and follow that wanderlust you know he has is unfair, don’t you think? That’s forcing his hand and showing him that you, Gavriel, cannot be your own light. Your own rock. The thing about relationships is, we’re not rocks. We’re not inanimate objects. We’re films. We’re stories. We all have our own strengths, quirks, flaws, the whole nine yards. We start off as black and white, which back in the day was a phenomenon. The fact that we could even film? Amazing. But then you met him, you saw him for the first time, and things were never the same. JP brightened your life, brought a smile to your face, loved you for you and never asked for you to change. JP made your world better, but at the end of the day, that’s your world and he wants to make home in your heart, like you’ve made a home in his.”

Turning herself fully toward the sweet, younger boy, she gave a playful grin, “Gavriel, be his technicolor. Enhance and brighten. Color makes a movie so engaging, so rich, but he is still his own film. You don’t have personal power over him and he doesn’t over you. Bring him joy, intensity, and light. His movie will still be rolling but it’s ten times better with you in it. Be whole, be happy, and the rest will fall into place. Does this make sense?”

Removing his gaze now that he knew she was done talking, Rye looked over to his love at the register. His Apollo. The irony of that being the nickname Rye had adorned him with while carrying a love for the Hyacinth flower was not lost on him, especially in this moment. Hyacinthus had been a human who had caught the eye of the god Apollo, and the two had fallen rather hard for each other. A lover of sports, as many in his culture were, Hyacinthus had gone with Apollo to an open area to practice some discus. His lover and god had thrown the disc high into the sky with the intention of scattering the clouds and giving them more light to play under. The story tends to split here, falling into the two most popular iterations where either Hyacinthus dies trying to catch the returning disc and misses it, only for it to hit his head, or that the god of the west wind, Zephyrus, was also in love with Hyacinthus and in a fit of pettiness he changed the course of the disc to hit the mortal in the head, killing him. Apollo’s powers as a god of medicine could not heal him. The blood from his head sprouted a beautiful flower, which Apollo deemed the Hyacinth in memory of the mortal who had the sun chasing him.

Rye always felt like a mortal chasing a god because JP was so beyond him, so far out of reach yet willing to come down to earth and find mortal muses and love, to find him. He always knew that it wasn’t as drastic as his mind made it to be, and Avery blowing through his internal metaphors like the tornado from Wizard of Oz finally helped him settle away from that thought process. He’d told JP that the man was human and he was allowed to make mistakes, so it was time to stop seeing him as everything but human in his mind’s eye.

“Bring color to him, huh?” Rye asked quietly as he met her gaze once more and gave her a nervous smile. “Ok. Ok, no more rocks, no more lighthouses- and that’s freaky as shit that you knew what I was thinking by the way, but we’ll get to that another time- but instead brighter color, turn this shit into the infomercials of old where they talk about remastering the black and white into technicolor and shit. I gotchu. I can do that, right? I mean I could try at least and if I’m gonna be my own light then you need light to make colors in the first place-” he rambled quickly, losing focus as he took Avery’s words in and worked on convincing himself the rest of the way. He dropped the pillow as his hands began flying along with his words. “-I totally got this, just get me a glass prism ‘cause I’ll shine rainbow light all over this bitch!”

His enthusiasm was rewarded with laughter from the older woman. “Thank you, dude. This actually helped me too, believe it or not.” Avery nudged the side of him and looked at him with appreciation while he returned the gesture. Standing up, she grabbed her cup of water and turned to the younger man. She was his senior when he was a freshman. It was nice to feel of use by someone not of her usual anxiety ridden clientele (damn Midnighters). “Sometimes you have to speak out loud to understand what’s on your mind. Maybe that’s exactly what your boyfriend needs.” She winked at him, before glancing up and noticing the man of the hour. “Speaking of the devil,” she nodded at JP who had watched his cousin and Lamb take their leave, together. “Lamb made a new friend?”

“Something like that,” Jericho mused, knowing Lamb’s life was about to turn upside down.

“Okay cool. Well. As much as I’d love to stay, I have a job to do but this was awesome. We should totally do this more often. Maybe less bickering though,” she teased, sticking out her tongue. “Thanks, you two. Really. I do hope what happened today is a beginning, not an end. But I guess we’ll just have to wait and see! Until then, you know where to find me.” Aves took a dramatic bow, like a jester would for a royal court. Once she said her goodbyes, she dismissed herself.

As the geek queen walked away, JP reached for Rye’s hand and pulled his boyfriend to his feet. “We should do a trial interview before you see Beau tomorrow.” He briefly paused, searching in Rye’s big, brown eyes to find the emotions that were troubling him. “I need to go through our donation pile and see what’s sellable, we can go over some questions while I work? Would that be okay with you?” Oh and before he went too hard in planner boyfriend mode. He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and gently bent back Rye’s head across his arm. Softly and with tenderness only meant for his lover, JP kissed him. There was a leisure progression in intensity, his insistent mouth parting Rye’s lips sensually. This was Jericho’s way of apologizing. He felt bad for the way he acted and the best way he could show how he felt was through a kiss. Pulling his head away from Rye, he whispered, “I’m sorry. Be patient with me please.”

“How could I ever be anything less,” Rye replied in a breathy whisper as he stared up into the dark eyes that reminded him of moonlight forest paths and polished gemstones. Rarity and beauty all found in the gaze of a man he’d never have found had he not started his journey by being true to himself. He’d followed that long path right into his forever’s arms and he never wanted to leave. “We can definitely do a mock interview, but if you’re tired and want to focus on the donations I’ve got no problem just working on the possible questions myself, homework style. I know you didn’t sleep much, and I can do some things on my own,” He kissed his love once more to show he was being light-hearted before returning to the couch to grab the journal he’d brought with him from the apartment. He opened it for JP to see the small list he’d started earlier this morning of possible questions that could come up in the interview, a few of them even having answers written below. “I know it’s not much, but I already started.”

“If that’s what you want,” JP ruffled his boyfriend’s hair. “I still want to do a mock trial before the day is over. I think it’ll be fun to act like Mr. Beau. Throw in some literature quote and it turns into a therapy session.” Jericho chuckled, thinking of his one of a kind English professor, always down to listen and provide wisdom when needed. A good man in a town full of darkness. “But for now, I’ll let you do your thing.” JP leaned down and gave another quick peck on Rye’s lips. “I won’t be too far if you need me,” he muttered before stepping back and putting distance between them.

“You never are,” Rye replied to the empty space that Jericho had previously inhabited, journal held tight to his chest. JP was still focused on what Rye wanted instead of what he wanted himself, but Rye had to admit that the idea of JP sounding like Mr. Beau put another smile on his face as he watched JP head to the donations, taking his own seat back on the couch and grabbing a pen off the table so he could return to the lined page before him. “And I think I always will.”

Clayton Costigan had made this drive a million times in his life; the slow crawl up Hanging Hill towards the side gates of Scott Street. But he had never made it like this. He had never made it with the intention of causing harm.

Edenridge, for all of its many faults, is a town dripping in history. It is a town where the populace still carry the names of their forefathers; Callahan, Cleary, O’Hara and O’Brien. Yet search high and low, one name not found is Scott. So where did they all go? The truth of the matter is very simple, they didn’t go far at all. The Scott family arrived in Eden sometime after the founding but there were a lot of them, so they took up residence in the area that would soon carry their name. Famine, poverty, violence, it claimed many, including the family on the hill until all that remained of the once huge dynasty was a daughter. Eileen Scott soon married a stable boy with hefty dreams and no brain cells, that man was Hosiah Costigan. From there, Hosiah tore down all the homes in the Scott conclave and rebuilt it. With blood and sweat and tears, he built a thriving residence for those that paved the way, the founders. Centuries later, Founders Valley was renamed Scott Street in honour of the family that first called it home.

The twins have heard that story a thousand times from their grandparents and both hated it. Laura couldn’t wait to leave the street, leaving behind the legacy of being both a foundling from their Callahan mother and hearing about how their fathers ancestor built every house on the damned hill. Clay wanted to escape as well but the glimmer and glitz was a little bit harder for him to resist but he got out in the end. Sure it was a shitty little place in PleasantView, but it was enough for him.

Still, driving up the hill brought back too many memories for him to forget. Him, Davey and Fran playing street ball in the driveway, Jamie silently watching while Lamb did her hair. He remembered having to carry his cousin Emerald down the hill to her parents house after she broke her hand. His first kiss in the woods behind the O’Hara house. These visions were no longer painted in gold, instead replaced by darkness and melancholy.

When the car parked up just shy of the cul-de-sac, Clay took a deep breath and placed each of his hands on the shoulders of his saviors: Niles and Lexie. They only promised to get him as far as his mother’s house since they knew that Ellie would force her son to the hospital. He looked out and he could see her dark tresses in the window and off to the side the waiting forms of Kylee Grimm and..Adam? Well that was a story for another time he guessed. “Thanks guys. Thank you for doing this.” He patted Niles on the shoulder before turning to Lexie. “Stay away from strange men and ice cream, little buddy. I know what you’re like.” Inhaling again to block the pain, Clay got out of the car.

“Well well,” The young officer put on his bravest face as he looked at the couple standing in front of his mother’s front door. “Kylee finally bagged herself a Callahan. Not like you’ve been trying for ten years and I’m a little old for you.”

“You’re one to talk,” Kylee snickered, having observed a drastic change between Clayton and the hot milf and best sandwich maker, Caterina Belmonte, over the course of a couple of weeks. The journalistic girl could see a mile away how badly they lusted and desired one another. Not even that though. The way they looked at each other had this incredibly deep connection that made her feel they were definitely more than just friends. This Missus or Miss — Kylee didn’t know if Cat had finalized her divorce yet but all of Scott Street knew her business and that she was having an affair with a mysterious, young lover — was the one person that Clay’s had the hots for throughout many, many seasons. He may be a ladies man, having more romantic relationships than she could count but his eyes always went back to the same person. Time and time again. They always searched and found a hot Italian mama. Mysterious young lover? Clay visits the sandwich shop often. Coincidence? Unlikely.

Maybe Kylee was being a hopeless romantic, or an optimist, and hoping the chemistry she saw actually blossomed into something he could hold, something he could cherish, and something he could call his and only his. There was nothing wrong with believing in love and that it would find you when you were least expecting it. Just look at her and Adam! There was one thing she knew for certain though, Clay wasn’t playing the field anymore. He still had his friends but he was far more focused in juggling his work and his meetings with Wes and herself. Past tense since Wes likely won’t be hosting weekly meetups anymore. Clay always made time for his many lovers but now, it seemed like he was more available for other things. “But yeah, if you have to know, Wes ghosted me so I dumped his ass. Adam came out of nowhere and now we’re together.” There wasn’t a grace period between Wes and Adam which may be something she’ll regret in the future but right now, the heart wants one thing. The heart wants Adam.

Approaching her friend with the great hair, even in this state, Kylee scanned him from head to toe, examined him in concern and harshly asked, “What the fuck happened to you?” She was going to mention that she knew who David’s girl was but there was a more pressing matter at hand. Clay’s condition. “Clay, are you sure you should be… out like this?” She frowned with apparent worry.

“We’ve got work to do.” Clay said bluntly. He usually wasn’t so abrupt, always masking his words with humor or charm but this was a different Clay. This was the man who took an oath to protect and serve; no matter the personal cost. He looked towards his cousin, whom he hadn’t seen in a very long time thanks to a whole drama and he ruffled the signature shaggy hair that nearly all men in their family carried. “Damn AC, you got big. You’ll have to give me workout tips but first…nah who am I kidding I’m never setting foot in a gym. God gifted me this body I’m not messing with it….anyway I digress, Adam...” Clayton pointed to the extremely worried face he could see in the window of his childhood home. “Go in there and distract my Mom. Shouldn’t be too hard, she’s still a space case.”

Same old Clay. Adam fondly remembered Saturdays at the Costigan house. Ellie and Sean would welcome their entire extended family for a sit down meal which Ellie would claim to have made from scratch, probably thinking she did and not realizing Sean switched out all of the food while she did her make up. All the connected families were there. Costigan, Callahan, Milligan and Moore. He remembered sitting with Rachel, Roddy, Bron and Emerald whilst Andy, Fran and the other older kids did cool shit. Except Clay. Clay always took the time to hang out with the younger crew before he headed off on whatever hair brained scheme he had cooked up for that day. He always made sure that they knew that he loved them and that they weren’t less than. Everything always seemed easy for him. Clay was a good guy and it looked like nothing had changed.

“I’ll do my best.” Adam nodded towards the older man before turning to face his girlfriend. “Be careful out there, I’m not losing you again.” He kissed her soft lips and held her tight for a moment before doing his little cousin's duties of distracting the parents. It was just like when Clay and Lamb tried to steal Uncle Sean’s hard liquor.

“Bit dramatic, but we don’t shame in this house.” Clay had to make a comment just to ignore the thousand aching pains in his body. “Alright Grimmy, information pooling time. I know who’s sending the letters and I know who’s writing the letters. You do too. Hit me with your best shot, Pat Benatar.”

Leading the charge, after watching her sexy boyfriend walk away, Kylee strolled down Prairie Court toward the cul-de-sac. “The answer was in the letter, and it was… pretty obvious once I put two and two together. It took time and a few interviews with cheerleaders and such, but once I went back to the basics, I couldn’t unsee it.” Kylee crossed her arms, walking beside her friend, thinking out loud her many thoughts of the matter. “The Elite. You guys were the shining stars. Everyone had their eyes on you, all the time. Some even worshiped you. I imagine if I was involved in your circle as a little sister, I would’ve definitely gained a hard crush on one of you. Probably you because I guess I have a Callahan-Costigan thing,” she teasingly giggled, glancing toward him and playful winking. She was glad she never really saw Clay in that light. “Hell, I thought Rhett was sexy as fuck and even gave him advances but he is an unbreakable force. Unwilling to bend. And, I respect him for that.”

Uncrossing her arms, Kylee put emphasis on her words by using her hands, “The more I thought about it, the more sorry I felt for David. It doesn’t justify his actions by any means, but he was the coach’s son. He was an O’Hara. That pressure adds up. I’m the Mayor’s daughter and I can understand that pressure.” She grimaced at the thought of her father getting angry at her earlier, causing her to take two steps back on her mental health journey. She hated disappointing him. “He turned to the bottle but he also turned to the one girl that was always there but kept to the background, like a little mouse, waiting for him to see her. I have a picture from one of our school’s bakery sales that matches her handwriting verbatim but that’s just me doing the most and wanting physical evidence.” Kylee nodded to herself, a true Sherlock Holmes in the making, if given the proper tools, resources, and validation.

“Most of you have siblings. You, David, Rhett have sisters. Lamb and Jamie were part of the Elite by association and around your age, so that doesn’t leave too much room for scandal. Caitlin, though? The girl who avoided me like the plague because I’m very good at discovering secrets. The girl who had her own secret to protect and wouldn’t want it to get in the hands of her classmate who aired out other’s dirty laundry for the world to see, which of course, I’m not too proud about. She is a hopeless romantic who likes stories like Romeo & Juliet. She shows her love through acts of kindness, like feeding Danny all the cupcakes in the world. Cleary and O’Hara are neighbors, like you and Cat once were.” Kylee hinted at her own theory with Clay and his dynamite dream girl. The girl next door. A trope that seems to exist heavily in the town of Edenridge. Charlie and Poppy. David and Caitlin. Clay and Cat.

When they slowly walked past the O’Hara house, she turned to it and frowned, “It’s sad because not only did he put himself in a situation where the town would ruthlessly tear him apart — yet people don’t blink an eye for someone like my father who married his sugarbaby basically — but he, like Allison, were in their prime in highschool. They were lost after graduation. Their friends all had some general direction while those two? They knew they would be remembered for their school reputation. Kinda like me…” Kylee trailed off, feeling her own inadequacy and lack of direction. Without the town drama, what would she be? Nothing. Secrets were all she really had. “I stopped really trying to find out the answer for who was using the Charlie’s Letter gimmick to their advantage because that answer is pretty obvious too and I think you know who it is, without me having to say the name.” Kylee turned to Clay expectantly, ready to hear his own notions before assuming the culprit of Dear David, a red herring for the case of who has Charlie Decker’s journal.

Clay silently listened to Kylee’s discoveries. Partially to see if their respective theories matched, they did and partially because opening his mouth to talk hurt like a fucking bitch. “I spent the entire day yesterday interviewing the people I cherish more than anything about these damn letters and the answer had been staring me in the face.” Ruffling a hand through his wild dark mane, Clayton looked up at O’Hara house. All the treasured memories of days he recalled being wonderful. Lost to time and lost to trouble. Roddy would say it was a curse. It wasn’t a curse. It was just broken people doing bad things. “You know it’s funny, none of us ever considered ourselves elite. It was just a name, it didn’t mean anything. We knew how people felt, how Caitlin felt, how others felt but we weren’t supposed to do anything about it. It wasn’t right. David….I love him. He was my brother but he crossed the line. I don’t doubt that he loved her. I honestly don’t but if he had just waited. If he had just listened….”

He stopped as he and Kylee stood on the lawn of the Cleary home. Clay had been there so many times. He had watched Caitlin grow up into the beautiful young woman she was. He had shot hoops with Rhett and he had drank beer with Gary while silently drooling over Deidre. “Everything fits together now. Jamie knew. Of course she did. Nobody was closer to David than her. She has a history of chaotic behavior. When police raided the house and found nothing; Jamie was the only one who had the time to get rid of the letters and stash them where no one would think to look. Her and David’s special place in the woods. When I was attacked last night…” He paused, realizing that he had yet to tell Kylee what had happened to him. “…I’ll fill you in later. When I was attacked…” Clay continued. “I know of only one person that big and that strong. Russell. And that big ogre would do anything for Jamie. Anything.” Would Jamie go so far as to have Clayton attacked for what truths he may uncover? He doubted it. What he didn’t doubt was that Russ might take the initiative and try and solve the Clay problem without Jamie’s consent. The tragedy of it all was that he and Russell had been friends for twenty years yet he had never trusted any of them with the secret that Jamie had been guarding, had he done so, maybe things would’ve been different.

“We speak to Caitlin. Get her side and then we go next door.” Clay reached out and out a hand on Kylee’s shoulder as she stood ahead of him at the Cleary front door. “Thanks for going through this with me, Ky. I guess Roddy was right about you all along.” He reached down and checked one last time. His gun was there and it was loaded. He didn’t know what the next few minutes held in store but what he did know was that it all ended now. For David.

“Take the lead, boss.”

There were butterflies in her stomach. Or dread. She didn’t know. Kylee and Caitlin never did interact with one another. They had a mutual friend in Danny but aside from that? They lived in different worlds or chose to at least. There was this deep-seated feeling that Caitlin would not take her arrival to the Cleary family home well. Hopefully Clay being here would ease the girl’s worry but Ky seriously doubted it. How would you feel if your first love’s best friend and the gossip girl of your year showed up at your front door seeking answers? The truth? Not well at all, Kylee imagined.

Here goes nothing.

Pushing her fears to the back burner, Kylee pressed the doorbell and waited patiently for someone to answer. As she waited, she wiped her sweaty hands on her plaid skirt. Either the heat was getting to her or her anxiety. Regardless of what it was, she wasn’t ready for this. She didn’t expect to get this close to solving a case without Roddy. Still, it didn’t matter if she was ready or not. She had to be. She needed to be. For her friend. Clayton deserved closure for this chapter in his life. Clayton deserved to move on. For his sake, she hoped this ended with him being at peace. For his sake, she hoped he could focus on himself and be happy. If that meant sleeping with an Italian milf then good for him. As for herself? She hoped this gave her confidence to aspire and dream again… she hadn’t been this excited in a long while. She loved chasing the truth. She hoped this was a good sign. A positive one. For her future. She hoped she was doing the right thing.

Only time will tell.

She rang the doorbell once more.

As soon as Mika had made his sneaky escape from the Cleary home and Scott Street as a whole, Caitlin had taken advantage of still having an empty house to catch up in the sleep she had lost the night before. Her exhaustion was reflected in the way she didn't hear her parents coming home and going about their business around the house. It was only with Deidre's gentle nudges on her shoulder that Cece was coaxed awake, but there wasn't much time to get acclimated to the waking world before her mother was informing her of the presence of two visitors downstairs requesting to see her: Clayton Costigan and Kylee Grimm.

The overwhelming sense of imminent dread falling over Cece like a bucket of ice cold water woke the young woman right up. The only possible reason those two people would have to pay her a visit, with the circumstances currently happening, would be to discuss the David letters with her. Clay being a cop meant he had access to any and all evidence about the case, while Kylee had a knack for sniffing out puzzle pieces and carefully weaving them into a narrative. With both their skill sets put together, it came as no surprise that they had probably been able to figure out that she was the author of the latest letter. And the prospect of being confronted with this truth by two individuals she had no previous rapport with was panic-inducing to say the least.

Not wanting to alarm her mother, Caitlin put on her best face and rose from the bed. She took a few minutes to freshen up in the bathroom and put on a more presentable outfit before politely calling out for her very unexpected guests to come up the stairs.

"Come in," she quietly instructed the visitors as they arrived at the second floor landing, waving a hand in the direction of her bedroom. She attempted to keep her composure as best as she could, discreetly taking calming breaths and hiding her shaky hands in the pockets of her joggers. Once they had crossed the threshold and settled wherever they felt comfortable at, the redhead closed and locked them behind them and settled down on the bed, blue-green eyes filled with fear and nervous anticipation as they shifted from Kylee to Clay and back.

Clay wanted her to take charge. To lead the way in this uncomfortable conversation with her former classmate. Kylee stood by the balcony door, keeping her distance from the redhead she had little to no ties with. She rubbed her hands together, formulating the right words to say. “Sorry for coming unexpectedly,” she started with an apology. “I hope we don’t take too much of your time and I know I’m probably the last person you want to see, with my reputation and all.”

Out of politeness, the Cleary girl chose to not comment on her statement. Kylee wasn't wrong about that. Out of all the people Cece went to school with, the mayor's daughter was the one person she tried to avoid at all costs. She'd seen first hand the way the brunette sniffed around in search for any tidbit of information she could find on her selected target, and how she used it to blackmail, manipulate, expose or humiliate people to her advantage. She’d seen the cruel consequences her wicked games could have. With all of the secrets she had to hide-- from David, to Mika, to Danny’s sexuality, to the pressure she felt about being Scott Street royalty that could easily be misconstrued as ungratefulness--, it was no surprise that Kylee Grimm was the last company Cece wanted to keep around.

Fidgeting with her hands and shifting her weight from one leg to the next, Kylee tried to calm her nerves. She didn’t expect to be this nervous in front of Caitlin Cleary but it was the idea that she never knew this girl, never knew what she thought and what she liked, that made this incredibly awkward for her. All she knew was how Natalia hated her so bad and that she made killer cupcakes. Danny B gloated of his best friend’s baking skills, all the time. If only Kylee had that talent.

Thinking about Adam waiting for her to return to him, Kylee focused on presenting herself not as the gossip girl that all her classmates loved to hate, but as a truth chaser who wanted to do good. Adjusting herself, using his smile and his adoration for her to her advantage, she found herself gaining courage little by little. “I’m sure you’re aware of the letters. I may not be directly impacted by it but,” She glanced over to Clay and gave him a serene and kind smile with both her eyes and her lips, “A friend of mine is.” Swallowing hard, feeling a ball in her throat, she brought her attention back to Caitlin, “I find it silly we’re even in this situation. I’m a firm believer of love and at the root of all this, it’s just a girl who loved a boy. A boy that had an insurmountable amount of pressure. The golden boy of Scott Street. The Coach’s son. The Captain of the Celtics. The O’Hara legacy… you get the point.”

Cautiously taking a step forward, not close enough to pop the other girl’s bubble, but close enough for Caitlin to catch a clear sight of her facial expression, Kylee deeply stared into Cece’s pretty blue-green eyes, searching for a connection. An expression of goodwill to show her that she had no malice. She was only here to help bring closure to Clay. “What brings us here is to hear your truth and to confirm or deny our theory. The theory of you being David’s secret lover.” Kylee revealed, choosing to go quiet after the fact, allowing Clay and Cece the space to think and talk, if they wanted to.

The redhead shifted her eyes away from Kylee’s and focused them on the tattoo on her wrist, nervously tracing the outline of the inked image with her pointer and middle fingers. Just as she suspected, Clay and Kylee had figured it out. But if they were asking for confirmation, that meant that they were still not 100% sure whether it was her or not. So instead of making any admissions right off the bat, Cece opted to test the waters first.

“Why do you need to know that?” she asked in a hoarse voice, refusing to look up. She really wished Mika or Danny were there to support her and give her the strength to come clean with her side of the story. “If the name hasn’t come out it must be for a reason, right?”

Clay stood leaned against the wall, his arms folded. He did so not to look tough or act cool but simply to hold in the pain that was desperately trying to escape his chest. “Caitlin.” He spoke with a soft voice. Like the beautiful departed, he had watched the young redhead grow from a young girl into a beautiful woman. They were distant cousins of a kind and he had always done his best to be there for her like he was for every other relative. The fact that he stood there now, to question her on a subject so sensitive, it was not something Clayton really wanted to do. “It’s been five years. You’re a grown woman now. You’ve been through hell just like the rest of us and just like David’s name. It’s time we change that.”

He thought back to the contents of the letter and what they believed to be Caitlin’s words. They were not of a lovesick child or a manipulated youth. They were genuine, caring, committed. It left no doubt in Clay’s mind that the truth of the matter was David was in a relationship with a minor. Yet the words made it seem loving, caring and consensual. The hidden meaning behind the letter was that David wasn’t a monster, just a boy who should’ve known better. “You wrote the letter. You were seeing David.”

The young woman’s lower lip began to quiver. With the kind way Clay and Kylee were addressing her, she could tell that neither of them were seeking her out with any bad intentions. They weren’t judging her, they weren’t accusing her, and they weren’t here to tear into her. All they wanted was the answers that only she, the living half of the relationship, could provide for them. So after a long pause to compose herself and some tears rolling down her cheeks, Caitlin finally confirmed her involvement with the Coach’s son with a small nod. “I was,” she sniffled, wiping away the tears with the sleeve of her chunky tie-dye cardigan. “David and I were dating each other.”

Clay nodded. She said the words that they wanted to hear but that didn’t make it any less hard. She was David’s secret, his girl next door. “Take a breath, Cece. We’re not here to hurt you or make things worse. We’re here to help. I need you to confirm some details for us. Fill in the blanks that we can’t yet. Can you do that for us?” He thought about his choice of words. Of course she could do it. The question was would she want to? “Caitlin, will you do that for us? For David? Help us make this right.”

The crying young woman took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling, as if searching for a sign of David’s guidance throughout this whole thing. The details she was about to reveal were part of the biggest secret of hers and her former boyfriend’s life-- with stakes so high that David had taken that secret to the grave. Although the law stated that a party was innocent until proven guilty, his silence had been taken as an admission of guilt. Nobody had bothered to look further into it. Nobody had bothered to ask questions to absolve him. All anyone had ever done was jump to conclusions, condemn him with their words and beg for him to be burned at the stake. It had taken the exposure of her letter to bring attention to the issue again, and there was no denying it stirred so much pain in so many hearts. But at least the one in charge of the investigation this time was someone who genuinely cared about David like she did. The least she could do was tell him the truth.

“Okay.” she murmured in between tears, grabbing the pillow nearest to her and clutching it close to her chest for comfort.

“Okay.” Clay said with a sigh of relief in his voice. He looked over at Kylee with gentle eyes and nodded. “Maybe take notes or record this. We might need it.” He returned his attention to Cece and began to consider a line of questioning and how best to phrase it. He could go full cop Clay or he could be her friend. Either would likely get the answers they needed but he wondered which one was best to keep Caitlin sane. He just shared the truth, he didn’t want to cause her any further pain. “So, I guess maybe we just start at the beginning. You first got together the night Allison died right? What happened?”

The freckled girl nodded. “During the party, some slimy Pinehurst guy was harassing me. He had me up against a wall trying to bully him into kissing me when David stepped in, said something to the guy and got him off me. He saw how uncomfortable I still was about everything, so he offered to drive me home and I said yes. But instead of driving back here to the house, he drove us out to the clearing behind the house. You know the one, right? The one back here? That one. When we were there, he and I were just hugging and talking, and after we said some things we just… kissed.”

Clay really didn’t want to picture his dead best friend kissing a child but he didn’t have a choice. The way Chief Broadus explained it was that when you had to understand a crime or a situation you had to place yourself there, no matter the scene. You had to be in those shoes and feel it the way they did so that you could make it right. “So after that…” He paused for a moment to gather himself. “Were you together immediately? Did either of you stop and think about what could happen?”

“Yes… But not in the way you think.” Cece began to explain. “I had been crushing on David since I was ten. The only thing I was thinking about at that time was how happy I was that he’d stopped overlooking me and seeing me like a kid for once and started treating me like a young woman-- like any freshman girl he wouldn’t have thought twice about dating,” she admitted, looking back down at her lap. “I know he had second thoughts about it all the time, with me being Gary’s daughter and Rhett’s little sister. He never outright said it to me, but I could see it in his eyes. I always did my best to reassure him, though, whenever I caught him with that guilty look on his face. But even with me telling him over and over again that I was sure he was what I wanted and I was 100% comfortable with what we were doing, he never laid a hand on me in the way people are accusing him of. Never. I wanted to have him like that so badly-- begged him, even--, but he was always really serious about never going farther than me kissing him and straddling him. He said he respected me too much to do that.”

So they had never slept together. It didn’t make any of it ok but at least it made the situation less terrible. David hadn’t had sex with a minor. They couldn’t prove it though, they would only ever have Caitlin’s word. Then again, none of this was about proving David innocent, it was just about finding him peace. Clayton finally removed his crossed arms from his chest and placed them in his pockets. Finding some loose change inside he began to play with it out of stress and anxiety. “We all knew that David was seeing someone in secret but none of us knew who, or at least that’s what I’m supposed to believe. But you guys snuck around for a year. You had to have had help, right? Someone knew?”

The young woman nodded again. “I told my best friend Danny about it. He kinda noticed me sneaking around more than usual, so I told him about it and he covered for me a lot of the time. And as far as I know, the only person David told about us was--”

Caitlin suddenly went silent as the realization of the person behind the publishing of the letters hit her like a ton of bricks. All that time spent wondering about who would have the means, opportunity and motive to do something like this, and the answer had been staring her in the face. From the moment Cece and David first started dating, Jamie O’Hara had been their fiercest supporter. She had been there to cover for Dave whenever he and Cece were out together. She’d helped him plan surprises for her, given him ideas on what gifts to get her, and taken photos of them together. Throughout it all, Jamie had been there for them… And she had also been the one member of the O’Hara family who was tormented the most about David’s death.

“Jamie. David had only ever told Jamie about us.”

Clay sighed deeply through his nose. Everything made sense as he had expected, it was Jamie. It was always Jamie. She knew about them the entire time, there was no way she couldn’t. She and David were two parts of the same person. Twins. A two pronged soul. They were everything together that Clay and Lamb were not. Jamie loved David more than anything, he was what balanced her scales of fragility. Without Davey, Jamie had no center.

“Jamie has your letters, Caitlin. It’s her putting them in the street.” The young police officer looked over to Kylee whose gaze affirmed that her suspicions were exactly the same as his. “My best guess is that she was inspired by the Decker letters and is trying in some twisted form to get justice for David. To let people know that he didn’t do what everyone says he did. She’s not trying to hurt anyone. She just wants her big brother back.”

The young woman turned to Clay with an expression that revealed equal parts of anger, outrage and hurt. "But it is hurting someone! It’s hurting me! It's hurting a lot of us that loved him! Just because she took the letters I wrote for Dave from his hiding place and kept them doesn't give her the right to show them to the rest of the world! Those were personal!" Cece cried out, eyes quickly filling up with tears that wasted no time in rolling down her freckled cheeks again as she hugged the pillow tighter to her chest. Even if Jamie’s intentions had been noble, the consequences of her actions were breaking Cece’s heart all over again. "I want him back too. There isn’t one day that I don’t wake up wishing he was still here with us. Nothing's ever been the same since he's been gone."

“You’re absolutely right and we’re gonna end this today.” The pain on Caitlin’s face was obvious and deep. It seemed pretty clear that what Jamie was doing, it really had nothing to do with Cece. She hadn’t considered her actions and who would suffer for it. Clay himself, holding it all together with crazy glue, he was just like Caitlin and he was just like Jamie. He wanted David back too. He missed his best friend but Davey was gone. There was a small detail that many people didn’t know about the night David died. It was Clay that had to identify the body. When they fished him out of the water of the lake, every officer knew the face of the star Celtic but they needed someone to do it formally. Clay was unlucky enough to be the one that crossed paths with police before they could get in touch with Coach or Lizette.

He remembered the body, lying on the cold metal slap in the mortuary. Sabrina’s uncle Felix stood behind him, with silent support. David was pale, almost blue save for the fake tan that he has messily applied. His fingertips were dark and his lips were puffy. That stupid thick curly hair hung draped over his face like curtains hiding his blue eyes from the world. He looked like he was asleep. It was dead silent. That’s when he heard Jamie’s screams pierce the veil.

“Caitlin, we can keep your name out of this, if it’s what you want. Jamie doesn’t seem to be targeting you. If she was she would’ve already brought your name to light. Do you want this to stay between us?”

The young woman bit her lip as she wiped her eyes again. In the midst of her pain, Cait was feeling very conflicted. There were plenty of reasons to continue to keep her involvement with David a secret. When the rumors had come out and he’d first been investigated, the O’Hara boy had refused to identify her as ‘the girl’-- even if it meant that Cece couldn’t vouch or advocate for his innocence or in his defense. He had cared about her so much that he chose to take the blame for every erroneous thing they accused him of just so she wouldn’t face the wrath of their hometown’s judgment. Having to keep quiet and helplessly listen to the way Dave’s name and reputation were dragged through the mud was the heaviest burden she’d had to carry in her life.

But maybe this was it. Maybe this was the perfect moment to do right by her David. With the years now gone by, maybe it was finally time to unload some of that weight, face her biggest fear, clear her forever love’s name and bring some clarity and peace of mind to those who had loved him as dearly as she had. She had already told Mika, now Clayton and Kylee. Maybe it was time to come clean to her parents, her brother, Coach and Lizzie before anyone else had a chance to spin the narrative in the wrong direction again.

“I want to tell my story, but I want to do it on my own terms,” she informed Clay, squaring her shoulders and looking up at him. Her mind was made up. “Is there any way you can buy me some time?”

Clay nodded. “My friend Sabby can lose the paperwork for a few days but she will have to file it eventually.” Sabrina would help him out like she always had done. They shared a very close bond despite the duality of their personas. She could tuck away the report naming CeCe in a drawer somewhere but those sorts of things were tracked, especially for younger officers like Clay. They had two or three days at the max before the Chief or Sly came looking for his report. “Whatever move you’ve got, Caitlin, you’re gonna have to make it fast.”

Kylee was processing everything that had been said and she could feel her heart sinking. She remembered that day. The day David died. She had spent some time at the Hole with Roddy and Daisy, before returning to her father before midnight. They had just gotten back from the cemetery on Liberty Road, investigating the mysterious ‘White Lady’. Liberty Cemetery throughout the decades was a goldmine for ghosts, from soldiers to giggling children. Edenridge was a place of death after all. The most famous one, though? The White Lady. Theory is she was a woman that gave birth and lost her baby, and she walks the gravesite trying to find her baby. Others theorized it’s a ghost of a woman that was murdered by her husband. But Kylee’s theory was that she was a murder victim that was dumped in a sinkhole near the cemetery.

That wasn’t the point though. The reason why she was sitting in silence and in shock was because she remembered her sister being at the Hole with David, whispering in his ear. She knew her sister and she knew that most people didn’t realize she wasn’t as friendly as she pretended to be. She knew her sister hated the Elite and Allison’s circle more than anything in the world. She knew if given the chance her sister would push each and everyone of them over the edge, like a devil on your shoulder, confirming your worst fears. She remembered the next morning and all the faces gathering in Scott Street to the sirens and police. She remembered how devastated Jamie looked. She remembered how happy Hailey looked.

Kylee felt sick to her stomach but she needed to press forward and bury this knowledge until she could talk to Hailey herself. She really didn’t want to. Not after how cruel her siblings were to her today. “This is all so fucking sad,” Kylee looked between Clay and Cece, and realized this could’ve been her. She could’ve found the letters and aired out Cece’s dirty laundry in hopes to make a difference but in the wrong way. Ever since the case of the Head Cheerleader, Allison Davies, ever since Natalia and her confronted one another, her wounds seemed to open up and grow deeper. Kylee remembered how miserable David looked and now she wondered if she could’ve made a difference and just told him, hey everything was going to be okay.

“Roddy is more of a brother to me than any of my siblings ever would be and if I lost him, I… I can’t promise I’d do the right thing. I know what Jamie did is wrong but I can’t help but feel really sad for her. Did any of you check up with her after the fact? After David died? Or did that become Russ’ burden? I… I don’t know. This feels like a scream for help. It isn’t right, I know, but I wished Jamie had someone to see her, be there for her, outside of this beautiful girl with the brightest smile. The person that helps everyone but herself because she lost the one person who would carry her.” Kylee straightened herself and held onto the pain in her chest, the raw feeling of everyone hurting surrounding her. “I wish there was a way to end this, without anger. All I see is a lover, in pain, a best friend, in pain, and a sister, in pain. You’re all hurting so much and it really is painful to watch.”

Caitlin shook her head. "After David died, I was so fucking sad, but the guilt I felt about him shouldering all of the blame was even worse. I couldn't look my parents, Uncle John, Lizzie or even Jamie in the face. I felt like I was dying-- like a part of me had died with the one person who ever cared to actually see me. But I had to pretend to be fine, like I didn’t have the right to feel sad about losing someone I’ve known all my life just because of accusations that were wrong in the first place. I didn’t leave my room after I found out; only for the burial, and not until the first day of school. When I went back, I couldn’t handle the way they spoke about Davey. It was breaking my heart. So I decided to distance myself from everyone. I quit the cheer team. I isolated myself even more than before. I spent most of my afternoons under the oak tree by his grave. I wasn’t doing well for a long time, so I didn’t really notice Jamie being gone until it was long after that.”

“I did what I could.” Clay understood why Kylee would say such a thing but it didn’t hurt any less. After David, the Elite was all but broken. Allison was already dead and with David’s drowning, that left Clay, Russ and Fran. Russell had already left for service when David died and Franny was away at Harvard. That left only Clay and Lamb to pick up the pieces of their broken glass ballerina. He did what he could or at least he convinced himself that he had but he was at college too, he had a life and Coach had Jamie shipped off faster than David could get across the basketball court. He called and messaged when he could but Clay knew that Jamie had checked out. She had lost her person, her soul; everyone was too blinded by scandal to see it. “I could’ve done more. We all could’ve.”

Pushing himself off of the wall he was leaning against, doing his best to hide the grimace of pain on his face, Clay looked at the two younger women, their blue and brown eyes staring at him respectively. “I’m going next door, it’s time this ends.”

Kylee slowly nodded, the sadness visible in her gaze. “It’s your case to close, Clayton.” She didn’t know what was up with her hormones lately but this past month was forcing her to feel and confront things she would’ve rather left buried, or so she thought. She was trusting her intuition more, seeing people for what they were, which was just that. People. Just people. Not this embellished story with lies and truths woven together. Not gossip. Not information that can be blasted on the air. Just people. Sad people trying to move forward to their next chapter. Trying to let go and be happy. Shaking her head to pull herself together, she turned back to her former classmate and smiled, “Do you need anything from me? If not, I’ll get out of your hair. I’m really sorry for all this. You don’t deserve it. Neither of you do.” She turned back to Clayton, meeting his gaze, her smile never leaving her face.

"Thank you,” was all Caitlin could say to both of her guests, trying to return Kylee’s smile in her own shaky way. "Thank you for your kindness, your understanding, for giving me the chance to answer your questions, and for wanting to find out the real truth. David never, ever, ever hurt me. The only person that ever hurt me was this town with what they did to my love.”

Kylee hoped she was doing the right thing. When she was dating Wes, she saw a man who would risk everything for a story, regardless of how he obtained it. She was observant and supportive, but she knew that look in his eyes. She’s seen it before, in her father. A crazed look of a man who was on a mission. A man who would stop at nothing to complete it. Deep down, she knew Wes and her would never work out. That was a hard pill to swallow because she did like him. She liked him a lot. That didn’t change the fact he didn’t want to open up to her. More importantly though, her dad would never let her date someone who would put a story first before his daughter. She knew the odds were always against them.

Still, Kylee had hoped she could be the change he needed to heal from his past transgressions and start over. That’s something she was trying to do. Start over and leave her highschool self behind. She knew she’d never stop being curious. She’d never stop chasing stories and unraveling truths. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t teach herself the right way to solve mysteries. The humane way. Would Adam be patient with her and stay at her side as she sorted herself out to be a better person? She didn’t know but she really hoped so. Karma was a bitch for all the times she hurt people through her words and actions. One person especially being Natalia. Her biggest regret. There was no way she could bring happiness to someone if she continued on like this. She had to do better. No, she needed to. For Roddy, for Clay, for Adam, but more importantly? For herself.

“It’s almost over,” Kylee added. “We’re almost done.” She didn’t know if either of them needed to hear those words or even wanted to. Her intuition told her to say it and she would. It was time for her to trust her gut feeling more and only time would tell if it would lead her astray. As she started sauntering to the door, the mayor’s daughter had a sudden idea. She didn’t know if Caitlin would want to do it, given her reputation and their relationship but it was worth a shot. She stopped by the door and snapped her finger, “There’s one way you could tell your story…”

Every time Jamie looked in the mirror, she so desperately wished to see David staring back at her. One day he would. One day she would open her eyes and she would see that stupid curly hair framing his goofy grin. He would be laughing and telling her that she needed to decide for certain whether she was going to be a blonde or a brunette because he was sick of her changing it all the time. She would tease him about his choice of music being exactly like their Dads and then Davey would go off to play ball with Rhett and Clay and she could go about her own monotonous life until she was ready to come home to her brother again.

One day that would happen.

Jamie closed her eyes and exhaled deeply, her body slowly moving to the sound of David’s Infinite Spotify Playlist of Dad Rock. Russell’s screams were drowned out by the deafening synth intro of Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Tears for Fears. She still had the bloodied knife on her hand as she danced through the hallways of the O’Hara house. Her father was already gone for the day and her mother had headed out to the store. Russ was in the living room, hooting and hollering but what was fine, that didn’t matter. He didn’t matter.

Her darling husband had lost his mind when Jamie had gotten home that morning and told him that she had kissed someone else and liked it. It was so typical of Russell to throw back in her face that he stood by her through everything. Jamie hated him for it. He wasn’t doing it because he loved her, he was doing it to hide himself away from the world; to hide the truth that everyone already knew and didn’t care about. Russell was gay. Everybody knew. Jamie was just his beard. An opportunity he saw when she was at her lowest to cover up his own pain. Their argument was heated and although he had never laid a finger on her, Russ was large and she was not. She hadn’t planned on using the knife until Russ said he had beaten up Clay the night before and left him for dead.

He did what?!

How could he do that? Clay was their friend. He was a good hearted soul who just wanted to help people and Russell attacked him for no reason. He tried to preach that he did it for her, that if Clay found out Jamie was behind the letters that would be the end of everything. How could he hurt Clay? Jamie had always loved that floppy haired idiot. Once upon a time, it was romantic; in fact they were each other's first kiss but time and tide makes fools of us all. They were never meant to be. Instead they were friends, the closest of close until Davey died. Knowing that her husband had tried to silence their friend, that drew down the curtain of red mist and forced Jamie’s hand and the blade between her fingers to slash Russell’s arm.

He was on the couch, having made a tourniquet out of a tea towel and was on the phone to the emergency services. Jamie wandered out of the front door, her eyes bloodshot and teary. She still held the knife as she walked barefoot onto the pristine green grass of her Scott Street ancestral home. The music was blaring through the open front door as she turned her head towards the neighbors home, the Cleary house.

If David wasn’t with Jamie, maybe he was over there?

Exiting the Cleary household, Kylee was a woman on a mission. On the phone with Adam who was still at the Costigans, she gave him an update, “Hey baby, meet me at Absolute Sound. I got a surprise Dawn Patrol special to do.” Scanning at her wrist watch, she noted the time, morning was nearing an end. She shrugged, “Sure Amie might still be live, but she should understand. That girl has a squirrel brain and this is far more important. So, yeah, I’ll see you soon? Mm, yes sir I’ll be careful.” When she listened to the next words, Kylee became a blushing bride and embarrassingly answered, “Stahp. I need to focus…” she could see Clay’s and Cece’s eyes on her, which caused her to look away, “I love you—” her train of thought stopped abruptly when she saw David’s twin in a tragic state. “Jamie…” she whispered. Barefoot, sunken eyes from all the tears she’s cried, and a bloody knife. Instinctively, Kylee put herself in between Caitlin and the distraught, mentally unstable woman making her way toward them. “Adam, I need to go. Clay!” Kylee hung up her phone.

“Calm your tits, I’m moving a bit slow today…” Clay’s ever present humor fell off of a cliff’s edge as he came up behind the two girls and saw his childhood friend moving like a zombie towards them. She did not look like her usual, ethereal, radiant self. This version of Jamie looked manic and half crazed. Clayton swiftly jumped in front of both girls, blocking them with his lanky frame. The adrenaline quickly surged through his veins to mask the pain. He didn’t immediately reach for his gun, instead opting just to reach out his hand to his former lover. “Jamie, babe what’s with the knife?” He scanned it as quickly as he could. There was only a small amount of blood on the blade which meant that whatever she had cut, realistically suffered a surface wound at best. “Jamie, you hear me?…”

Jamie tilted her head slowly, taking short steps forward. “Is he in there?” She asked, breaking into a wide smile. “Is my Davey in there? I have to tell him something important. I know you want to keep him all to yourself Caitykins, but I need him. I need my big brother.” Her words were frantic as she ignored both Clay and Kylee, focusing her attention on the small redhead they were shielding with their bodies. “I need Davey."

The moment Cece's eyes fell on the woman with a knife staggering towards them, fear unlike anything she'd experienced before settled within her heart. The multi-generational bond between the O'Haras and the Clearys meant that the redhead was aware of Jamie's mental health issues, and knew that the reason she'd been sent away for some time was because David's passing exacerbated them. When she and Russ had returned to town a few weeks ago, she seemed better, healthier than she'd ever seen her before. No matter how hard she tried, Cece couldn't think of what had triggered Jamie to such an extent that she would do any of this. What she did know was that staring at the state of the woman she grew up alongside, the one who had treated her like a sister and been the biggest accomplice she and David had during their time together, terrified her and broke her heart in equal parts.

"He's-- he's not here, Jamie," she croaked, her voice trembling as much as her body was. She could tell from the woman's glassy-eyed stare and her inquiry that she wasn't all the way in the present. Her mind was probably stuck in the past, before tragedy had struck them all. Telling her that her brother was no longer with them was bound to escalate things, so Cece opted against being the one to say it. "David's not with me right now.”

Jamie stared vacantly at the trio; their words soaring over her head. She turned her head in time to see the doors of the cul-de-sac open and the residents of Scott Street empty from their loveless castles to view what was happening on the Cleary lawn. The fragile tie turned her O’Hara blue gaze back to Clay, Caitlin and Kylee and narrowed her gaze onto her childhood friend. “Clayton, you must know where Davey is? Is he with Franny? Or did you just get back from your date's house? Should I call Rhett?”

Clay was heartbroken seeing Jamie like this. She was obviously in some form of manic episode. She had suffered through them her entire life. Some were quick, others lasted days. When David passed, the mania was constant and unstoppable until she went and got help. Nobody knew exactly what was wrong with Jamie, the O’Hara’s had kept it quiet but everyone knew that something was wrong. “Jame, he’s gone. You know that, right? David’s been gone for years.” He tried to remember the techniques that they had all been shown to help pull the girl from her delusions. The problem was, Clay’s own mind was foggy from assault by her husband. “Focus on my voice; on my words, where are you right now?”

Jamie tried to open her mouth, to make words come out but instead there was only a whimper as the tears started rolling down her puffy, red face once more. Like a light switch being flipped, the broken monument’s face darkened and she raised her blade. “I had to do it.” She spoke coldly, “They said such horrible things. They all dragged his name through the dirt and why? WHY? Because he was protecting you.” Jamie hissed as she glared at Caitlin. “I love you Caitykins. I really do but you’re not worth what they did to him. It’s not your fault; we love who we love who we love. That’s just the world. But he is mine. David is my world and I am not going to let them spit on his soul any more. They are going to hear the truth.”

The truth in Jamie's words cut Caitlin deeper than any injury the knife in her hand could’ve caused. She was right. She wasn't worth what had happened to David. She wasn’t worth the accusations, the insults, the snide comments or the death threats. Davey had died because of her-- his life wasn't worth that. She had earned every single ounce of hurt that had come her way since the day she decided to kiss him by the lake. Every negative feeling she’d experienced since his passing was warranted. If Jamie wanted to end her life today, then so be it. She should've gone through with it herself years ago. It was exactly what she deserved.

“I’m sorry,” was all the young woman could whimper in between her sobs, the crushing weight of her guilt and her pain bringing her down to her knees, her face buried behind her hands as she fell forward. “I am so, so sorry.”

“Is this how you honor his memory?” Kylee sadly but firmly asked the older woman, having pocketed her phone in her pants. She made herself visible to Jamie, moving beside Clay, knowing he would want to shield her. She met his gaze, seeing how badly his body was hurting, and told him through her eyes she could handle herself. She was a big girl. Her father raised her in a way to at least know how to protect herself from an ongoing attacker on the street just in case she was mugged. She wasn’t too worried. She was more worried for the mental health of all the people around her.

“We love who we love who we love,” she repeated after Jamie. “Look around you, Jamie.” Kylee raised her hand to gesture at Clay, Caitlin, and her general vicinity. “You are not the only one hurting. I can’t say what this town did was right but what I can say is would David want you to remember him for the sadness and the tears? Or would he want you to remember the days you laughed, walking down this street, right here, during Halloween, going to basketball games, dancing by the lake with friends, and hiding out in your secret place? His smile. Doesn’t he have such a nice smile? I always thought your brother’s smile was so pretty and bright,” Kylee never took her eyes away from Jamie. She wanted the woman to hear her; really hear every word she was saying. She had no idea if Jamie would be receptive but she had to try.

Kylee Grimm was the outsider in this situation. That didn’t mean she needed to be a bystander. She knew enough information to break the silence of the town. She might’ve not added fuel to this fire many years ago but she didn’t do anything to put the fire out. More importantly though? She saw her friend and her former classmate in pain. So much pain. That was enough for her to take action. “He never stopped loving you, Jamie. He will never stop loving you. Please don’t be unhappy because you can’t see him. He’s with you, I promise he is. Every morning, every dawn, and every night. He’s with you. Right here.” Kylee placed her hand on her chest, her heart, where she’s made a home for her own loved ones. “He’s with you,” she repeated, like a mantra. “He’s always been with you.”

“But he’s not with me though, is he?” Jamie spoke coldly, the usual warmth of her words was snuffed out by grief. “They took him away from me. Why did they have to take him away?” Her face began to shrink and resolve into sobbing as Kylee’s words found a hole in her wall of pain to seep into. “He didn’t do anything wrong. He just fell in love, he just fell in love. Isn’t that what is supposed to make the world go round?” Jamie’s teary eyes fell upon Caitlin once more, who was now being held by Kylee for support, they were brimming with sadness and despair. “Davey loves you so much. You make him so happy, Caity. I just want to tell him that I found someone, someone who could make me happy too. Is that so wrong?”

Clay always knew that Jamie’s co-dependency on her brother was bad but to be this severe! Her episodes obviously didn’t help the situation and his death only could’ve exacerbated it. Taking a step forward, the former elite reached his hand slowly up and took a hold of the surviving O’Hara’s wrist. She didn’t fight back as he took the knife from her and dropped it onto the floor. He had always known that Russell was a marriage of convenience and Jamie’s words of finding love were not meant for him. He wondered if it could be closer to home than he realized. Avery had messaged him earlier that morning mentioning a kiss. He all but skimmed it because of how groggy he was but now it all made sense. Avery and Jamie had kissed and despite what joy it seemed to bring based on the ballerina’s words, it had also set off her mania, likely the confusion of it all.

She watched Clay take another stride forward, when hooked his arms beneath Jamie and pulled her into his embrace she began to weep uncontrollably. Her knees buckled as she sank down into the grass, clinging onto Clayton’s now bloody shirt as she did. He followed her down to the door and held her tightly. She looked up at Caitlin and reached out her hand, her other still grasping onto her childhood friend. “Caity…”

The redhead's face remained buried between her hands, her whole body shaking with violent sobs. Hearing Jamie speak about David's love for her, the happiness she brought him and how she wasn't to blame for what happened brought a sense of relief and healing to her aching heart. Sure: Jamie was right when she said that protecting Cece wasn't worth what the town did to David-- that was her grief speaking. But it was comforting to know that even in the midst of her distress, Jamie could still remember that the happiest Cece and David had ever been was with each other.

When Cece heard the sound of her name being called out, she looked up at the brunette and noticed the other woman reaching out her hand in her direction. Her eyes were still streaming, and her face was red. But even with the tears blurring her line of sight, the Cleary girl could see her own pain, suffering and grief reflected in the O'Hara daughter's face. Yet at the same time, she saw kindness, empathy, affection… And understanding.

Accepting Jamie's invitation for comfort and seeking some of her own, Cece wrapped her arms around the brunette and pulled her into a tight hug. "I'm sorry, Jamie!" she repeated, her voice cracking as she spoke. She hoped the other woman would be able to sense her compassion for her suffering, her genuine regret about what had transpired, and the immense love she still would always hold for her brother and the O'Hara family as a whole. "I love you, and I am so so sorry about what happened. You know I loved him with my entire existence."

Clay backed away as both Caitlin and Jamie embraced each other, clung to each other for comfort. The two most important women in David’s life had found each other and potentially and understanding. The sad fact of the matter was that as cathartic as it all was, Clayton couldn’t just leave it at this. Jamie and Russell both had committed serious crimes and would need to face the consequences of their actions. This was his greatest fear about becoming a police officer, it was something he and David had joked about many years ago. Clay had to arrest his friends. Taking out his cell phone, he quickly dialed up his commanding officer. “Sir, it’s Costigan. We’re gonna need a squad car and some officers up on Scott Street…..yes sir. We have a domestic dispute.”

Watching Clay, Jamie gripped CeCe tighter. She knew it was all over, that she had failed. There would be no justice for David, no matter what she did. Edenridge was a town of secrets, a town of lies and judgment. Bringing her lips to Caitlin’s ear, Jamie feverishly gripped at the back of the redhead's neck to pull her close. “Don’t ever let them forget what they did, Caity. What they did to him. To you. To me. Force their eyes open, make them watch.”

The redhead nodded in agreement. After the lengths to which Jamie had gone for justice, Cece would make sure her efforts wouldn't go to waste. "I will. I promise."

It was finally time to step out of the shadows and speak her truth-- consequences be damned. She owed it to Jamie, to Coach, to Lizzie, to David and most importantly, to herself.

Phones all across Edenridge got a notification from Kylee Grimm and Mei Ramsey’s socials, both their personal and their podcast socials, eagerly telling people to tune in On The Block 99.1 FM for a surprise Dawn Patrol special. Parked in front of the Brady house, Danny and Marco watched as police vehicles rushed into Scott Street. When Danny felt his phone vibrate and saw the tweets, he was quick to turn his car radio on. At this point, Marco was given all the details about Cece’s secret love affairs.

Marco was understandably speechless after everything Danny enlightened him to what was going on: with Cece, with Mikhail Zima, and with his boyfriend’s best friend. To think of all people, not only were the latest wave of letters that were about David O’Hara, someone Marco barely knew outside of knowing his name and his family, Cece was involved with him. It was a bit overwhelming if he was being honest and he still didn’t quite understand the weight of everything.

Cece had always been friendly with him. She had even entertained him in the past couple of years on Among Us when they’d occasionally play together. It’s been a few months since the last time they played, but as he sat in the car, in front of his house, beside his boyfriend seemingly waiting for the apocalypse to start, he could only think about what was about to happen. “This is intense, Danny. Like really intense. I’m not sure what to expect, but I guess we’re about to, huh?”

When they tuned in, the first thing they heard was the ending of Ky’s theme song and the mayor’s daughter going right into her intro: “Surprise! Kylee here on Eden Angels, On The Block 99.1 FM, with guest host, Mei Midnight, and our star of the hour, Caitlin Cleary! You know how this goes: Edenridge is where our story begins and we’re on Dawn Patrol.” Once she did her usual bit (with some modifications depending on the episode), she wasted no time. “So - to give quick context, there’s letters once again haunting Edenridge and me being the clever girl that I am can assure you all, they have nothing to do with he-who-shall-not-be-named.”

“And by he-who-shall-not-be-named, Kylee means that big greasy haired Edgar Allen Poe wannabe that shot me in the freaking neck. That’s right girls and ghouls, your demon dream girl has risen from her coffin for a very special episode of Dawn Patrol. SO we won’t leave you in suspense. David O’Hara, handsome, charming, dark secrets. And we are gonna lay them all out there and this time, it’s not for judgment, we’re doing it for justice.”

“For great justice!” Kylee cheered after Mei summed up the point of the episode, just in case there were a few souls that couldn’t bother with their mail. “Now, as I said, Caitlin Cleary is here. She has kindly offered her time to bring some hard truths to light. Since this is impromptu and most people should know her, this won’t be how I usually do things. Instead, I’m going to go right into my first question: Caitlin, I understand you know the meaning behind the letters today. Care to share some insight? Why would someone send love letters to the whole town? Love letters that were written with so much feeling and heart to our Dear David?”

“Well…” Cece began to speak, her voice trembling with apprehension. “What everybody got in the mail yesterday was a photocopy of a love letter that was written to David five years ago. His sister Jamie distributed the copies around town hoping it would clear her brother’s name from all the horrible, wrong things people have said about him through the years. Because only the person who wrote the letter knew the truth: that David never did what they accused him of. He wasn’t messing around with a kid-- he was in a secret relationship with someone younger than him… And someone was me. I was the girl who wrote the letter to him. I was the girl he was dating. David and I were seeing each other.”

A customer had requested Rhett Cleary to change the radio station to 99.1 FM, which was an unusual request during this time since Edd Campbell didn’t have his radio running 24/7. Once he heard his sister’s voice, his heart sank. He wasn’t one to show emotion so he kept a blank expression. The only time he put on a half smile was at work and that’s because flirting is what brought the sales up at the Hole. As he poured draft beer from a tap, this one was called Siren Brewery Best Kept Secrets, he gritted his teeth at the reveal of his sister being David’s secret lover. He knew David had a lover. His friend couldn’t hide his goofy grin whenever someone probed him if he had a special someone. The fact that it was his little sister, though? That unsettled him.

Returning to the lone customer, he pushed the glass toward him. The guy, Ethan Quinn, was giving him a curious look. The man was on his ninth beer and it wasn’t even one yet. “What?” Garrett snapped, his anger slipping out through his tone.

“Ohhhh nothing! This is miiiighty interesting. You know what I say when they talk about my family? Fuck ‘em! Fuck ‘em all to HELL! This town really does like stroking their dicks and flicking their pussies to everyone’s dramas. It’s almost like we’re one big orgy of FUCKED!” Ethan smirked at the foundling boy, graciously grabbing his beer, the world moving in the best of ways. “Hey don’t worry son, I’ll keep you company all day and when you want me to fuck off, just call my daughter, Darc. You know the usual.”

“Would you like to remind the town of the horrible things they said about David O’Hara? All the hurt and pain they caused? Please help us help you and everyone else move on. For his beloved family, his lifelong friends, and his ghost. It’s time we wake up, Edenridge. Smell the coffee and lay our dead to rest.” Kylee’s voice resonated on everyone’s radio.

Caitlin cleared her throat. "Criminal. Creep. Monster. Abuser. Rapist. And everyone's personal favorite: Diddler. All of those words and more were used to describe my Davey, but they couldn't be farther from the truth. He was none of those things. He was funny. He was kind. He was sweet. Loyal to a fault. Thoughtful and considerate to the needs of those around him. He loved deeply, selflessly, and with his whole heart. We were so happy, and we had so many plans for our future together. But they were destroyed before we could even start to build them. One misconstrued moment, the rumor mill started going off, and his reputation was in shambles. He was getting crucified for something that he didn't even do, because we were never intimate in the first place. As disappointing as it might sound to those who desperately wanted to justify their disgusting words and actions with the 'he had sex with a minor' argument, David and I never slept together. The only thing the person who caught us would have seen was us kissing. It never went further than that. Ever."

There was a lot that was being said. A lot Mika knew, but not what his mother did and he couldn’t imagine what it might’ve been like for Coach to hear it all. They were in his mother’s apartment and had enjoyed the time spent with each other, but the text Mika received from Cece and then the alert from Kylee, it made the blow of what was happening on the radio hit less, but Mika had known a majority of it all. He was so proud of Cece and how much strength it took for her to do it. If he had his choice in the manner, he would be right there with her, but she knew he was with her. What Mika hadn’t expected, what had immediately caught him completely off-guard, was the rather unexpected bomb that Jamie was behind all of it.

Both Mika and Mary’s eyes fell on John. There was so much to unpack in that alone, not including all of what Cece had said. What could Mika say? What could Mary say? Mary hadn’t been in contact with her family and she’d be surprised if Jaime even remembered her face. Still, one of them had to say something — anything — to John.

As she bit her lip, Mary placed a hand on John’s. Small and a silent gesture, Mary wanted her big brother to know he didn’t have to face this alone. “Johnny…” She muttered in an almost-inaudible voice that only he could hear.

“I need to go home.” John got up to his feet and stood, staring into space for a moment as he tried to compute everything he was hearing. He brought his hand up to his mouth as he listened to Caitlin’s words intently. He needed to find Lizette and Jamie, he needed to have his family together. Bringing his hand down onto Mika’s shoulder, John patted the boy with a comforting smile before reaching over and kissing his younger sister's cheek. “Mary, thanks for breakfast.” Coach quickly tore out of the apartment towards his car.

Dawn Patrol didn’t stop. The show must go on and there was a chapter that needed to come to a close.

“Could you expand on those words that likely cut David extremely deep, especially knowing that he is from a founding family and Coach O’Hara’s son? Was there evidence to prove any romantic relationship or did it explode because that was the big scoop of the week? To some people, they’d ask, why couldn’t he wait until you were eighteen to pursue you. Do you think he should’ve waited?”

"Why should he have? Freshmen dating seniors isn't a new thing anywhere in America. I can list so many examples, from our school alone, of age gap relationships like that happening with them actually going all the way and nobody saying anything about it. You guys know who I'm talking about. When I said those words, a couple of names immediately popped into your mind didn't they? What makes those people any different than David and I?"

“I don’t disagree with you Caitlin.” Mei began. “Hell, I was sleeping with a senior my freshman year. The difference, at least in my eyes, at the time nobody knew that David was with you. There was no information so he fell upon the sword of speculation.” She took a tip from her coffee with just a hint of marshmallow vodka. “For all anyone knew, he might have been with a junior high girl or younger! You and David hid it, a lot of us didn’t. Secrets make you a target. Secrets for an Elite? Makes you public enemy number one.”

"Which, frankly, is the dumbest excuse I've ever heard. Everyone in this town has secrets. From us Foundlings, to the Southies, to the Eastbrook and Westwood residents, down to those gossipy Scott Street women that saunter around pretending they and theirs are perfect and above everyone else. In Edenridge, people are always looking for the next big scandal to discuss over glasses of wine or pints of beer, hoping that if they focus hard enough on the mishaps and misfortunes of someone more prevalent it'll shift the attention away from all the nasty skeletons they have hidden inside their own closets. They throw bricks at neighboring ceilings when their own houses are made out of glass. So how about, instead of concerning ourselves with what other people are doing and igniting forest fires out of rumors and unfounded speculation, we start focusing on our own selves, and on what's going on in our own backyards? Or better yet, why don't we use Dave's story as an example of how words have real-life consequences? I think that would be a good place to start."

In his patrol car, with Jamie in the backseat, Sly frowned at the whole situation. He knew who was the culprit and he was proud of Clay for figuring it out. He hated seeing his partner beaten and bruised, likely having suffered from a concussion. Jamie had softly requested, tears flooding down her face, if he could turn the radio on. Sly wasn’t a monster and he knew Jamie was a special case. She would never hurt Clay, that’s one thing he knew for certain. She had her troubles but her love would never physically harm those that made a home in her heart. Sly had done this rodeo before. Friends falling apart and him having to put the puzzle pieces together to make sense of where they all were hurting. There was no doubt in his mind those bruises were caused by his friend, Russ. Jamie’s husband. It reminded him of a time in 1996. Still, he broke for this girl as he heard Kylee, Mei, and Caitlin on the radio. Jamie reminded him of Penelope and how her world shattered the moment he… Well, you know the story. He hoped for his partner’s sake this chapter could be laid to rest.

Speaking of Clay, he laid in the ambulance parked outside Sinclair Health, waiting for them to free up a bed for him. Parts of his body were purple with bruising and red from blood pooling beneath his skin. With his head on a soft pillow, he listened to the sound of his friends on the radio, discussing the truth that he had fought so desperately for over the last two days. Caitlin was finally speaking out and letting the world know that David was innocent. This was what Jamie wanted all along, justice. Clay’s eyes were filled with tears as he breathed out the pain. “Attagirl, Caitlin.”

“Part of me wonders if that’s all David was going through, you know?” Kylee reflected, thinking back on all the interviews she did the day prior. “Being a foundling must not be an easy thing. I’m the Mayor’s daughter and I can understand the pressure you all go through to some extent. For whatever reason the town turned their back on their golden boy and what for? For him to end up dead in our lake and found on New Year's Day? What was he going through? Even before he was caught with you, I mean.”

"When you grow up under the shadows of pivotal figures to town, there's always this pressure of meeting and exceeding every expectation that's placed on your shoulders-- sometimes even before you're born. If your wishes or desires don't align with what those expectations are, you risk being criticized, judged or disappointing those that are close to you. When you're a Foundling or just someone whose family has lived in town for multiple generations, that pressure is tenfold, because you're expected to live up to or surpass the accomplishments of those members before you. David felt that. As Coach O'Hara's son, everyone envisioned Dave as the obvious successor to the position: the heir to the coveted Celtic coaching throne. But that's not what he wanted. His passion wasn't in basketball or coaching. He only played to not disappoint the people that had hopes in him, and he took the assistant coach position to have an excuse to stay in town and be close to me. I couldn't tell you what he wanted, either, because he was never given a real chance to discover it. His life was cut short, but not before he spent most of it feeling like a failure for not being able to live up to the greatness expected of an O'Hara and a Foundling. He was a simple guy, and the pressure of everything was eating him alive. That's one of the things that we bonded over in the first place: the crushing pressure of expected greatness."

With misty eyes and their arms around each other, the heads of the Cleary household listened to their third daughter reveal secrets and speak truths they had been oblivious to. The knowledge of her relationship with David O'Hara, who had been like a son to them, and the consequences of that entanglement was upsetting to them-- but not in the way one might think. It wasn't the relationship itself what upset them; but the fact that Cece felt like she had to keep that, her suffering at David's passing, and how she felt about being a foundling as secrets in the first place. Their Caitlin had always been the quietest and more reserved one of their children: which were traits that Deidre and Gary appreciated in her. But was that because she was afraid of them? Had their actions in the present or the past somehow given her reason to not trust them? Had they failed as parents for their child to feel like she couldn't be her own person without disappointing them, couldn't share her pain with themzl, or seek comfort in them? Whatever the reason, it would change today. For all of their children's sake, they would try their damn hardest to do better.

Mei did not feel any guilt in regards to her previous behavior and comments. She worked with what she knew and learned long ago not to have regrets about life. She felt awful for CeCe and for David and for everyone involved but the past could not be changed, only the future. “We as a society thrive on gossip. We fight and we fuck, yes I said fuck, try and @ me you big cunts and everyone wants to know about it because it is an escape from our own dreary worlds. The story of David O’Hara was a sensationalized hit piece on a foundling who we all assumed had it all. And guess what? We were right. He did have it all. Good looks. Good humor. A good heart and a good woman who loved him. We attacked him because to see him fall would bring us a sick enjoyment. We, as a race, are selfish and naive. We cannot believe everything we hear and see. We cannot open our hearts to the mistreatment of others. That’s not how we survive. Love is how we survive. Caitlin, I’m sorry it had to go down like this but I can’t change what’s already happened. But you can change where it’s going. What are your final words? What do you want to say to everyone?”

There was a pause, followed by a deep breath. And then came Caitlin's parting words.

"Learn to mind your own fucking business."

Time.

All we ever really chase is time.

John O’Hara looked at time not as something to strive for but as something to fight and keep fighting until the wheels fell off. Time was the enemy. Time held all the cards and one could only play the hand they were dealt. “No luck but what we make.” It was a saying passed down from O’Hara to O’Hara over generations. John wondered if time and luck were twins and if they were conspiring against him for something he had done in a previous life.

He had left early that morning to meet the sister that had left him behind and try to make peace with the lost nephew he didn’t know about. John couldn’t say he was happy with the way everything went but he could at least say it was a start. There were a lot of mixed feelings going on and even after they shared a breakfast like their father used to make, he couldn’t be sure which of his feelings would win out. It was then he heard the radio and the interview given by the neighbour girl and everything changed. He drove home, back to Scott Street and an army of squad cars were surrounding his home. Lizette was in the doorway of the house, being held tightly by her sister Famke. Russell was in the back of an ambulance being put into handcuffs and Jamie, his Jamie, his little girl was being carted away in the back of a car. Clay Costigan was beat to shit in his driveway and was being tended to by EMT’s. When John raced inside, Lizzie told him everything. Jamie was the one sending out the new letters, some way of trying to honour David. She had sliced Russ open and Russ himself had assaulted Clay.

Coach didn’t know what to think, so he just got back in his car and drove. For miles he drove and back again until he found himself parked outside Camp Eden or at least the remnants of it. He went back there from time to time, to reflect on the life he had led. Many of those times he wondered if people would’ve been better off if the Hangman had succeeded that night? If he hadn't fought back and just accepted his fate, what would be different? His mind pondered the idea of a life where Charlie’s bullets went two inches to the left and tore out his guts. It was here in these thoughts that he replayed the voice on the radio, a voice he had heard all her life. Caitlin. It was her voice that said things about David, things he didn’t know. Caitlin owned her truth and fought the battle against judgement and prejudice. She finally revealed what happened with David. All she needed was time and luck.

Coach’s car pulled up outside the cemetery and he climbed out with a face full of melancholy. He placed his hands in his pockets as he strode through the overgrowth of grass towards the O’Hara plot where those in his family were buried. As he rounded the old tree, he noted a familiar shock of red hair sitting cross-legged in front of his late son’s gravestone, running her hand over the smooth, cold headstone.

“Caitlin.”

When she heard her name being called, Cece looked up, and found herself staring at the patriarch of the O’Hara family. Immediately, her eyes filled with tears once more. She quickly stood up and took a step back, giving John his space in case he was upset and didn't want to be anywhere near her presence.

"Uncle John… I'm so sorry I never told you…" Cece apologized in a shaky voice. The amount of crying she'd done had left beautiful face all blotchy, with her eyes swollen and bloodshot, and her small nose tinted red.

For the last five years, she had hidden the truth from the man in front of her and his wife, terrified of receiving their wrath if they considered her to be the culprit behind their son's tragic death. Today, circumstances had forced her hand, and she had finally mustered up the courage to reveal those truths she kept so close to the vest to the entire town. After showing such vulnerability, Cece's spirit was exhausted. David's grave had always been a place where she could find solace and comfort, so she had politely asked to be driven there after the interview. She hadn't expected to face one of the people who had been affected by secrets so soon, but Caitlin had since known that fate's timing was anything but perfect.

The thought was tearing away at the inside of his stomach, ripping it to shreds. The idea that all these people that he cared so deeply about, his friends and family, were all so deeply entangled in the Edenridge web that the thread was strangling them, forcing their silence. John looked down at the woman before him, a young woman now that he had known since her birth. Like Atlas she carried around the weight of the world, in this specific case the weight of his twin children's world. Caitlin looked tired, worn down but there was still light in her eyes, despite how puffy they looked from obvious tears. With his hands on his hips, Coach moved his eyes from Caitlin to David’s gravestone and back again.

“How you doing, kiddo?”

Throughout her life, John had asked Caitlin this question a million times. Before she and David got involved, she answered according to however she was feeling, always making sure to not say too much to avoid questions or reveal anything that could find its way back to her parents. When she and his son were dating, her answers would always be an emphatic reply followed by the brightest of smiles. She was with the love of her life: how could she be doing anything less than amazing? After Davey's passing, every answer she gave to his inquiry felt like deceit. On the surface, she was fine. She was getting good grades, going to school dances, going off to college… But underneath, Cece carried a deep, overwhelming feeling of heartbreak, sadness, grief, guilt and shame that she couldn't tell anyone about. Today was the first time she could finally look Coach in the eyes and answer his question with nothing but the raw, honest truth.

"I'm… I'm not doing okay…" she croaked, succumbing to tears once again as she closed the distance between them, wrapped her arms around the man and buried her face in his shoulder.

John brought his arms up and embraced Caitlin into his chest. With one hand on the back of her head and the other encompassing her upper back and shoulders, he held her tightly. He didn’t blame her. How could he? She was just a girl, a girl in love. Did he think that David should’ve known better? Not really. We loved who we loved. John was only a boy himself when he fell in love with Lizette. Everyone thought it was fate that the star football and basketball player would wind up with the daughter of the man who owned the hockey team. John remembered the amount of sheer work he had to put in to get her family's approval, to break down the walls of ice that they placed up around them. He empathised with the girl in his arms, she can’t have had it easy through all this.

“Me either.” He responded as he placed his lips to the top of her head. John really wanted to be with Jamie right now but he couldn’t. She was being evaluated by professionals and he had no doubt in his mind that they would find her unstable. He felt a failure because he never could understand his daughter and her feelings. David could. David had such a warmth to him, such a grace. He certainly didn’t get that from John. It was likely those things that brought Caitlin to love him. “But we’ll get through this. For him.”

The Cleary girl nodded, soaking in the comfort of John's presence. She didn't know whether she would ever be able to get through what happened, but now she had reasons to try.

Eventually, Caitlin gently pulled away from the embrace. "I really did love him," she told Coach, the truth in her words shining through her blue-green eyes locked on his-- in that O'Hara blue shade she'd grown to love so much because of his son. "I loved him with all of my heart; I had for years, even before we got together. He was my everything. He never hurt me or did anything like what they said he did to me-- ever. Everything that ever happened between us I was okay with. The only thing he ever did wrong was fall in love with me." She finished, the self-loathing she always kept under lock and key ringing out in her last sentence.

Coach sniffled lightly as he tried to stave off any tears that were trying to form in his eyes. He clicked his tongue before pushing the brim of his Celtics hat up a touch. “Let me tell you something.” John moved a little past CeCe to his son's grave, it had been freshly cleaned from the latest vandalism that had been done to it. “Couple of years ago, before everything, I was in my office at school and who came to see me? Charlie Decker.” Coach’s O’Hara blues fell upon the gravestone of the school shooter just over in the distance. The real tragedy was how many of these kids were dying for their secrets. “He told me he had some concerns about David and a student. Of course I didn’t want to hear it and pushed him on. Davey was a flirt, sure. But he was never inappropriate.”

Placing his fingers atop the cold white marble where David’s name was etched, John sniffled again. “Fast forward, the day after they pulled David out of the water. I had to take Clay home because that poor boy was the one that got called to identify the body. I ended up at Mr Beauregard’s house and after about five bourbons and no food he told me that someone had come to him with the same concerns Charlie brought to me and that he raised them with Principal Payne.” The older man coughed, choking back and restraining his emotions.

The revelation that Charlie Decker had been the one to discover and expose her secret relationship stirred mixed feelings inside of Caitlin. Her compassionate side understood her classmate's reasoning. He believed someone was in distress, so he tried to do the right thing by bringing what he'd seen to the attention of school authorities in hopes that the girl could be 'saved'. She couldn't imagine the guilt he had felt after seeing the consequences of his actions. The other part of her, however, was full of a violent rage. Charlie voicing concerns to someone else instead of directly asking David about what he had seen had been the spark that lit the fire that ultimately ended her lover's life. His imcorrecf assumptions had ruined lives. It was because of Charlie that David was no longer with her. He was the reason she was staring at Davey's grave right now with her heart shattered in a million pieces since the day he'd been gone instead of living the life they had always dreamt of.

In a way, Caitlin was glad that she'd received this news now and not while the wound was still fresh or while Charlie was still alive. She couldn't begin to put into words what her pain, grief and rage would've made her capable of doing then.

“Had I just listened to Charlie, maybe David would’ve opened up to me. I can’t say I would’ve been happy but…I would’ve tried to…” John couldn’t stop it as the water began to fill his eyes and his voice broke. “I would’ve tried…”

Cece vehemently shook her head and wrapped her arms around Coach again, this time to provide him the solace he so desperately needed. "You didn't do anything wrong, Uncle John. Please don't take his silence personally. It wasn't that he didn't trust you, or because of anything you did. Davey was just protecting me. He was protecting me the whole time. It's why he didn't say anything when they asked him who he was seeing back at the station. He didn't want the town to crucify me like they did him."

John should’ve known. It had always been the case that anyone born on Scott Street suffered a different kind of prejudice. They were expected to be perfect, to be extraordinary. One fault, one chip on the armour and they would be attacked and exposed. It was why he had protected Jamie so ferociously, she had more than one gap in her wall. David, he never saw them. He pushed him too hard, too much. It was never worth losing him. Now John knew, he knew just how much his lost son was never lost at all. He found meaning and she was now wrapped up in Coach’s arms. “Thank you for loving him, kiddo.”

The young woman nodded and offered the man a shaky half-smile. "I would do it all over again in an instant."

Pulling a sheet of paper from his back pocket, John leaned against David’s grave. “I found this on my windshield the morning we found Davey. I never had the heart to open it after he died. I have a feeling-- no, I know this one is for you.” John perched himself lightly on the headstone before unfolding the page and beginning to read it aloud.



Caitlin's sobs could be heard as Coach read her the last letter her first love had ever written. Here was the physical confirmation that David had loved her with the same fierceness as she had loved him. The memories of their time together soon replayed in her head like a highlight reel. Their first kiss. The first time he'd told her he loved her. The night he had asked her to be his girlfriend. Stealing minutes from life's clock for a kiss, a hug, a loving word. Sneaking around town to spend time in their own little world: outlining their goals, dreaming about the life they would build together, planning their future and basking in the love of each other's presence. Every 'I love you'. Every kiss. Every hug. Every caress. Every plan. Every promise. Her entire world as she knew it… All gone in the blink of an eye.

And yet there was one last secret left to reveal before Caitlin's soul could be truly set free.

"We were running away together that night," she tearfully explained to Coach: a confession she had never made to anyone before, and the reason behind the guilt that crushed her. "We were going to take advantage of everyone being busy celebrating the new year to skip town and elope. He was supposed to pick me up that night, but he never showed up. I thought he had changed his mind. I tried calling him time and time again, but it went straight to voicemail. I eventually fell asleep with the phone next to my ear, waiting for the call or the text telling me it was time to go. Next thing I know, I'm being woken up by my parents telling me that he-- that he was gone--" Cece's voice broke as she succumbed to the pain in her aching heart again. "That's why I say it was my fault he died. He was cutting through the lake to get to me."

“Honey…” Coach choked out the words, his voice shaking and his hands trembling. He was trying to use his rational brain to work out what best to say. The day had been a whirlwind of emotion and he was absolutely drained save for his grief, something he shared deeply with the girl that he was standing with. “It wouldn’t have mattered if David was coming to you, coming home or anywhere. Crossing a frozen lake is never a good idea.” John couldn’t help but think of the lake as an allegory to Eden itself. When looked upon, it would’ve looked sturdy, solid and safe. But the reality of it was that one crack was enough to unleash the hell beneath.

Taking off his hat, John sank down until he was sitting in front of his son's grave. “I don’t know what will happen next. But whatever it is, I want you to know that you won’t be going through it alone, kiddo. David is with you and for as much use as I’ll be, I’ll be with you too. I can’t promise I’ll always be perfect, I can’t promise I’ll always understand but I’ll always try.”

Eyes sparkling with gratitude, Cece nodded her head. "I'll be right here with you too, Uncle John," she sniffed, taking a seat next to Coach, wrapping her arms around the one of his nearest to her, and resting her head on his shoulder. His support and reassurance that she wasn't to blame finally lifted the weight crushing her chest, and she felt like she could finally breathe again. "None of us will ever be perfect, but all we can ever do is try."

Maybe now that everything was said and done, Caitlin could start to heal from her immense loss. With her newfound peace and the support from those around her, maybe she could finally start living a life that her David would be proud of.

What better way to honor him than that?

David stood watching his father and the love of his life as they sat in remembrance. His hands sat in the pockets of his signature denim jacket and his chestnut curls hung over his smiling face. The spirit of the fallen elite looked towards his father's nearby parked car and as he did music began to pour out of the open window. Returning his piercing blue gaze to the family at his grave, he watched as Caitlin rested her beautiful head on his father's arm. And although still hurting, she finally seemed at peace.

“See you around, kiddo.”

David turned his back and walked off, gracefully fading away like a memory…

Chaos surrounded the cul-de-sac of Prairie Court, one of the few streets of the Scott Street community, and a lapse of time changed the lives of many. The leading gossip moms, Felícia Cortez, Eun-Ji Park, and Andriana Joseph all gathered to talk about Caitlin Cleary being David O'Hara's secret lover, poor thing, and when they were notified of a surprise Dawn Patrol episode, they quickly tuned in. Tiziano Belmonte, mildly concerned about the disruption outside, couldn't be bothered as he sat in a chair beside his sleeping wife in their bedroom. He held her hand and told her the story of his night. Even amongst the many that thrived off of unraveling secrets, there were people, such as Taz, who kept to themselves and focused on what really matters, which was their own lives and families.

On the grass of the O’Hara lawn there rested Jamie’s phone, forgotten and left behind. The smartphone lit up with calls and texts from those close to her. Lamb. Aiyana. Lizette. Coach. Unlocked and not in sleep mode, an SMS timer app was left open waiting for the perfect predestined moment to send a message.

At Swerve Arcana, Avery leaned on the counter by the register, reading an old Langley, All My Falling Stars. His first comic book series that he wrote when he was younger, about him and his shining light. His glowing star. His forever love. The author’s only attempt at a strictly romance tale. She thought back to her highschool days and memories that she hoped she would never forget even when her pictures became old photographs and time caused her memory to fade.

Nostalgia washed over her as she listened to Scott Street by Phoebe Bridgers. She was never in a bad place like those on the Southside or those that resided on Scott Street. To her, they were two sides of the same coin — pressure, environment, and circumstance. Kids either let the current take them or fought against it. Avery was simply a middle class girl who ran a comic book shop with her dad and prior to that she did odd jobs with her best friend and acted a fool throughout her high school career.

From yesterday to today, a lot had happened. For better or for worse, she was changed. She could hear Clay ask her if heroes always won. She had told him that it was usually at a great cost. Now that she had time to sit and think about it, Aves decided she didn't like her original response. If she could change what she said to her best friend she would say: That depends. Why do you want to win? You could get lucky and win but you need to work hard and be ready first. True luck, in my humble opinion, doesn’t mean you draw the best hand. The luckiest man alive isn't the one with the most victories. The luckiest man alive is the one who knows when to rise and go home. That's a win everyone should strive for. Knowing what battles aren't worth the fight and going home to the people you love who are time in a bottle, untold treasure, absolutely everything to you. Technicolor. The ones that brighten your life and when you close your eyes and think of them, you don't feel lonely. You feel home. You feel love. You feel happy.

What was the Celtics cheer Clay and his friends used to yell during a game?

Oh, that’s right.



Sighing to herself, Aves felt a vibration. Pulling her phone out, her eyebrows rose as she read a text from her dream girl. Jamie O’Hara. The girl she kissed and who kissed her back. A smile crept on her face.

Whatever happens next; I want us to write that story.

After reading the text, Avery was flooded with notifications, one being a news article with footage from the events that transpired on Scott Street. There were mentions of Jamie, Clay, Caitlin, and Kylee. There was a moment where she had to process everything that she had read and watched. Instead of being shaken to her core, Avery made up her mind. She would never win if she waited for luck to come knocking at her door. Life wasn't as simple as a box with two categories that were white and black. Heroes and villains. The past haunts every chance it gets but time keeps moving forward. Slowly but surely. Time changes people. Time changes stories. Time changes everything. Then again, a story can change every time you say it out loud. A story shifts and moves. We all have the power to change our story until you put pen to paper and it’s finally written. That’s the beauty of stories. That's the beauty of being alive.

It was time Avery Kaine stopped waiting and participated in her story.

It was time for her to own her story and be brave.

It was time to live.

Rye had not bothered the tired man while he’d sifted through the donations box, nor once he'd finished, but once JP had a free moment he returned to Rye himself and they conducted the mock interview with a sort of whimsical enthusiasm. There were still lines of tension in JP’s shoulders and brow, so when it was time for JP to care for another customer, Rye had packed up with his plan in mind. A quick message to Nina Belmonte had him showing up at Palermo after a trip up to My Darling Food Mart and working side by side with his best friend’s older sister to learn how to make JP’s favorite dish: Chicken Alfredo, something Nina could make in her sleep. He’d left the restaurant with a smile on his face and plenty of time to spare as he returned to the apartment with his meal and decorations.

He turned the oven on low and put the dish inside to keep it warm until JP got home, then he went on to set up the picnic blanket on the ground. Smoothing it out, he set out plates and utensils and the rose petals he’d gotten when he picked up the groceries, and he trailed electric tea lights out across the floor leading towards the blanket like a path of stars, willing to go full tilt into the surprise, even having borrowed a couple of wine glasses from Nina. He put pillows and blankets on the floor around the setup like a nest and settled back into it, waiting for his lover to appear and hoping this bit of spontaneity could be the start of adding color into JP’s life movie.

Within the next hour, there was the sound of unlocking, prompting Rye to jump up and grab the main dish from the oven before his boyfriend could open the door. Outside the apartment, Jericho had his earpieces in and a box being held in his arm and against his stomach, having gone to Kori Sweets on Carlisle Ave after his shift. He was listening to Time in a Bottle by Jim Croce. He had spent the rest of his shift keeping busy. Tuesdays were usually slow so he organized, reorganized, cleaned and entertained the few customers he did have.

When it was time to close shop, he first stopped at the drugstore to pick up meds for the old man. He proceeded to drive across the railroad to Kori Plaza to pick a couple of treats for his lover. Rye had a sweet tooth, which at times was concerning because of the amount he could eat, but it was an easy, quick gift if time was against him. Afterwards, he checked on his uncle Edd who was watching one of his shows, The Wire, and sending his best friends, Ed Quinn and Eddie Garnere, memes. Edd Campbell had shared the news of Sadie being in town, not knowing JP already knew, and that she was staying at Laura’s for the day. The old man grinned, knowing well enough his daughter would be pissed at him but he gave no fucks. He wanted his grandbaby home, where she belonged.

After all was said and done, he drove to Pleasantview and sluggishly made his way to his apartment. The downside of being an insomniac was sometimes the day passes in a blur. Today, however, he remembered vividly his exchange with Rye at MSM and how it almost led to another argument. He had to get his shit together. He didn’t know what was wrong with him but lately, he was losing a handle of himself. It wasn’t exhaustion. He was always exhausted. So what was it? He and Rye were making big moves as a couple. Committing to one another, moving in with each other, so why was he so short with his adorable and lovable boyfriend? He wasn’t insecure of their relationship. He knew Rye needed him and that would never change. He took in the lyrics of the song he was listening to and sighed. He really needed to get over this feeling. There was no way he’d add to Rye’s plate. Rye had Danny and Niles, who were already a handful, and if he found out Mordechai was in town? That was another person his sweetheart, his Sprinkle, would want to carry. Due to JP’s sleeping disorder, he had no recollection that he had already told Rye about Decky, a month ago, and that the anxious man was avoiding the other.

Opening the door, he shuffled in, closing it from behind and locking it with his free hand. He stopped in place, holding the box close, when he noticed the trail of tea lights and rose petals. Smiling, he pulled his earbuds out and shoved them in his pockets. Following the path that led to his heart, JP met Rye’s gaze and took in the whole set up, from the blanket-pillow picnic to the wine glasses, and even to the plates of alfredo. “What’s all this?” JP asked, bewildered but in a good way.

Rye looked up from where he had been doling out the last scoop of alfredo onto the plates and smiled. He stood up and walked around the food with the tray still in his oven mitt covered hands. Holding the hot dish away from their bodies when he got close to JP, Rye lifted himself onto his toes and gave JP a quick kiss before heading back to the oven to put the rest of the food back where it had been. Turning back around, he flailed his arms about the room and set up.

“You’ve been struggling too, lately, and I’ve seen it,” He responded honestly while holding Jericho’s eyes as they glistened with the lights from the fake candles. Safety first, no need for more fires in this town. “And I want you to know that I’ve seen it and we can keep playing pretend if you want but if you want to actually talk about things, I’m here. I appreciate you for everything you are Jericho, but I also see how it’s weighing on you,” He stepped forward to grab the taller man’s free hand in a gentle grasp. “I know I take a lot of other people’s problems on, but so do you, and I’m not saying to dump it all on me and that I’ll take it in, I’m saying,” He released the hand to tilt his boyfriend’s head down to connect their foreheads. “When you need to talk, I’ll be here, and when you feel like you can’t, I’ll be here for that too. Okay?”

This was all unexpected so much so that JP’s eyes, barely lit but still noticeable, were growing glossy. Instinctively, he used the box in his hand to put distance between him and his boyfriend to cover up the fact that Rye just hit him in a place that forced the lingering sadness in his chest to come to the surface, overwhelming him. “Fuck, okay. Here, your favorite. I’m… going to change.” When Rye grabbed the box from him, JP disappeared into the bedroom to get out of his jeans and put on sweats. When he was in a white shirt and black joggers, he sat on his bed. With his eyes closed, he focused on his breathing, playing out a few avenues he could take with this dinner. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t scared. He didn’t expect Rye to be the one to give him a safe space to talk and honestly? He didn’t know how to handle it. Still, he couldn’t let his man wait for too long, especially since waiting caused more anxiety. Deeply exhaling one last time, JP pushed himself off the bed and returned to the picnic. Taking a seat beside Rye, he chuckled, “Alfredo? Got this from Palermo?”

“Made it at Palermo,” Rye responded, allowing the proud tone to cover up his worry. He knew he came on strong, but it was intentional because JP couldn’t just shrug it off and pretend it was some trivial part of the conversation like he always does. With those strong comments out of the way, Rye could wait for JP to actually process his words and do with them what he may. He certainly hadn’t intended to cause the cornered animal look that had shot through the musical man’s eyes before he’d created distance between them, and he’d carefully sat back down with the box JP had shoved into his hands. He put it down in front of JP as the man settled, knowing that if he didn’t keep his favorite treat wrapped up and out of sight he would eat it before dinner and he was trying to be healthy in numerous ways. “Took a little lesson with Nina. She did save me from burning it though. Like three times. Thank you for the mousse by the way, I’m excited, but keep that away from me until I’ve had actual sustenance first please.”

Rolling his eyes, JP reached for the box and put it behind a pillow, even playfully going the extra mile to use one of the pillows to hide it from Rye’s eyes. “There. All gone.” Grabbing the bottle of Martinelli’s Sparkling Blush, the non-alcoholic version of Pink Moscato, Jericho poured them both a glass, handing the first one to Rye when he was done, “You had Nina teach you? Did I miss something? I’m proud of you, but what’s the occasion?” When JP put the bottle down, his phone was left in the bedroom so he could focus on his dinner with his love, he hesitantly asked, “Did October come out of nowhere and it’s our anniversary?”

“No, no you’re fine,” Rye laughed, accepting the glass and taking a sip of the sweet and fizzy drink. This was weird. Now that he’d basically had JP’s insecurities burned into his mind by one Avery Kaine, he could see so much more clearly all the little signs of anxiety the man was typically so good at suppressing. Being on the other side of things gave him an interesting glance into a lighter version of what JP went through with him on a daily basis. He did not begrudge his love’s burden. He grinned brightly and threw one arm out while staying aware of the drink in his other hand. “You got an apartment dude! We didn’t celebrate that. I know it wasn’t under the best circumstances but this is still a really big thing and you need to acknowledge that and do something you like, so I made something you like to start it off!”

With how sugary sweet Rye was being, JP’s own delicate sweetness appeared on his dimpled cheeks. He was incredibly lucky to have such an adorable, affectionate and alluring boyfriend. He always knew that Rye was his person. The moment they met at a Halloween party. Rye found him in a crowd and went all in with flirting. Even before Rye found him, JP caught sight of him from the other side of the room. He was surrounded by his friends dressed as Marty Mcfly from Back to the Future. A quick DIY costume he scrambled to make at the last minute. He saw at a distance, a cute, bouncy boy dressed as Elton John talking to a couple of southies. And then just like that, the boy that smelled of confetti sugar and lavender came to him and introduced himself. From that point on, his world was no longer completely his. It mostly belonged to this boy with tender eyes, a bright disposition, and a big smile. “Cheers then,” JP responded and gave a toast to commemorate the special dinner, “To our next chapter. To all the moments we will shake each other up, to the days we don’t have peace, where we test each other, question each other, and change our very reality. To our future. I wouldn’t want to walk this life with anyone else but you, Rye.”

Rye knocked his glass lightly against Jericho’s as his tears reflected the glowing lights scattered across the blanket. His smile outshined it all. Jericho knew what to say to play at his heartstrings as well as the man played a guitar, like it was second nature. “To our future, I can’t wait to write it together.”

“Good,” JP said matter-of-factly as he took a small sip of the sparkling cider. Placing it outside of their blanket area, not wanting it to be in the danger zone of getting kicked over, he started to eat and his face lit up. “This is really good, baby.” Rye’s face lit up in response to the praise. He spent the next minute or two in silence shoveling the pasta in his mouth. When he was done, he reached for his glass again and took a mouthful of drink. When he was satisfied with filling his stomach, and Rye caught up with him, he cleared the area, declaring it ‘rest stomach’ period before they got to the desserts. Laying down, resting his head on a pillow, he gestured for his lover to rest on him. When Rye did as he was instructed and they were in a comfortable cuddle position, he grabbed his hand and kissed his forehead. “So this is… different from our usual routine. Did something happen today? I know you said this is to celebrate our apartment but I can’t help but wonder if there’s more to it. Have I been that transparent?”

“I don’t think that’s it,” Rye looked adoringly up at his love, gripping his hand back as tightly as it was being held. “I just got a little more perspective is all. Perspective I’ve needed but more so wanted for a long time. Are- are you alright with talking on something heavy a bit? I don’t want to weigh things down if you’re not ready.”

Staying silent for a little bit, JP locked his eyes with Rye’s and saw how intensely the emotion was behind the veil. They say the eyes were the windows to the soul and he took pride in undressing Rye in all the ways you could for a person. Emotionally, spiritually, and of course, physically but that was neither here nor there. Tightening his hold on Rye, leaving no space between them, feeling his heartbeat through his throat, JP breathed, “What do you want to know? I’ll answer whatever you want but I can’t promise I’ll… I don’t know how I’ll react through this.”

“It’s not about what I want, and you don’t have to control your reactions,” Rye replied, hugging back tightly. “You don’t always have to be in control around me. I want you to know that,” he looked at the tea lights as they impersonated a flame flickering and changing the way the shadows played together around their little nest. “I’m not…I’m not going to try and fix you if you show me where you feel broken, I just want to be on your journey as you heal. You’ve spent a long time being strong for me, and before that you were always being strong for Momma Robbie and your sisters. When was there time for you to feel safe enough to be weak?”

That… was a hard question.

Jericho turned his stare to the ceiling, watching the moving reflection, shadows, and light from the candles Rye had bought. When was the first time he could openly express himself without fear of it backfiring? “A little before you moved to Edenridge, but not in a good way. I had this… unhealthy relationship with my father. Walter Phillips. That was his name. He and my mom connected through their love of music, he was a college professor at Boston U and she’s taught at Eden High for years. He taught mostly ethnomusicology. The study of music in different cultures.” Anxiously, JP traced his fingers on Rye’s arm as he focused in on one spot of the ceiling. “He wasn’t the best man but he was my father and at least for me, I wanted him to recognize me and be proud of me. He,” Clearing his throat, trying not to choke up from talking about this, he tried his best to formulate this piece of his past, “Used to just leave with me, like a bargain chip, and gaslight my mom. You’d get your baby boy when you give me what I want. At the time, I thought he just wanted time with me. His son. But really, he just wanted mom to give him something, like money, which he was awful at. Spent all our college savings. Gambled it and acted like someone committed theft on us.”

The tracing on Rye’s arm turned into tapping, like a drum. Tap, tap, tap, tap. “I told him everything because I thought that would make him love me more. I didn’t realize how fucked I was until he tried to…” JP’s voice was shaking. “He tried to hurt mom and I got in the middle so instead he threw me…” Closing his eyes, reliving these awful days, yet still missing his dad in a sad, sick kind of way, he whispered, “A month later, he died.” There was no room for growth or a change of heart, if his father was even capable of it. The child in him still wished his father before he unexpectedly died grew from his mistakes and became the man his mom believed he could be. The man she fell in love with in the first place. “I’m sorry, Rye… was that a good answer?”

“Hey, hey, I’m not trying to force anything out of you, and there’s no good or bad answers, just yours” Rye reassured, worried by the reaction. He had listened to the story with no small amount of horror and disgust racing through him, but he’s kept any reactions from surfacing on his features. He knew whatever JP’s choice of answer was was going to be dark, and he was perfectly able to control himself and keep from having dramatic reactions while his lover spoke. Apparently his lack of expression just made normally put together man even more anxious. He pulled back but didn’t leave JP’s arms, just made sure the man could see his face, his sincerity. He looked this man deep into his eyes and straight down to his beautiful and caring soul, and he kissed him breathless like he could be a balm for all the pain that he found there. To soothe it so JP could tend to it in a less irritated state and heal it himself. “You don’t owe me anything, you don’t have to tell me anything you aren’t ready to. I’ll always be getting to know you, and I can be patient despite what you’ve seen,” He smiled for a moment before continuing, “I’m gonna…I’m gonna give you something to listen to so you have the chance to sit there and find your center if you need. This isn’t me trying to overtake the conversation or compare situations, I just appreciate you and want to be open with you too,” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and steeled himself for his own admission. When he was ready, when Jericho’s eyes were on him, he began.

“My parents’ divorce was because of me. In like the most literal sense because what I did just really brought into light the way he was but just-” He stopped and shook his head lightly before restarting. ”I came out to them. My parents. A little after eighth grade started. There had already been signs that I should’ve followed that showed my dad wouldn’t’ve been cool with it; one time he came home and I’d been playing stylist with my mom, he flipped out when he saw the makeup on me and started scrubbing it off my face with a damp rag. I actually had a bit of friction burn on my cheek by the time ma had gotten him off me,” Rye laugh was hollow as the feeling his father had left behind. ”He started trying to sign me up for sports after that, and the car I used to love working on with him was suddenly a requirement instead of a hobby. He’d ask about girlfriends or crushes and get all cold and distant when I didn’t have anything to give him. Everything in me was screaming not to come out, but I couldn’t handle keeping it in. So I came out, and dad flipped his shit again and started screaming at me, and then he turned on ma because she got between us and he started yelling about how her coddling turned me into a ‘filthy fucking queer’,” Glassy eyes stared at JP as Rye dropped his hands from where he had been signing quotations. He tilted his head and shrugged as if to say, ’what can ya do, y’know?’ ”She cut him off by demanding divorce and while he was processing what she said she sent me to my room and told me to take my meds. I was basically dissociating to another planet by that point so I just did what she said and fell asleep to the sounds of them screaming at each other.”

He felt oddly still at this moment, aside from a head shake and tilt as well as a little shrug, he hadn’t really moved. No fingers tapping that would get tapped at with whatever tool or remote was in his dad’s hands at the time, no hands going ’in so many directions it makes me dizzy, Gavriel, should make you sit on them,’ and no leg shaking so much it had to be stilled by an iron grasp grinding his knee until it creaked from the pressure. He’d noticed it when talking about the events in therapy. Even years after he’d gotten out from under his father’s influence he still couldn’t even fidget when the thoughts of him in those later years cloud his mind. “When I woke up he was gone. Ma was in the kitchen drinking wine and all his clothes were gone, most of his other things were boxed up but he never came back. He sent ma an address and some money and she got it all moved to his new place. I’ve never seen him again and he’s never tried to reach out to me, so I’ve got massive issues surrounding the need to please others over my own needs so they don’t leave me. I have no doubt you empathize with that.”

“You know I would never leave you right?” Jericho shifted his body so he was facing Rye. He held onto the back of Rye’s head, holding onto the boy's curls. He leaned his face forward and once again their foreheads were united and touching. “I know I’m not good at this talking about my issues thing but leaving you? I would never, Gavriel.” For the first time, Jericho’s defenses were completely down and he was raw, vulnerable, and open. “I almost lost you once, I can’t lose you again, you understand? I fucking can’t.” The grief from a day both of them would rather leave in the past crept in his chest and shook him to his core. Being an outsider on the day of the shooting might have not been the same trauma as what those inside the school experienced but it was still trauma. It was scary enough to set JP back on his own personal growth journey and force a mirror in his face of how he couldn’t protect Rye. He wouldn’t always be there to save him. “I torture myself with what could’ve happened. I’m so deathly afraid of you dying. If you died, I would be losing my best friend, my soul mate, my smile, my everything. You make sense to me. You mean so fucking much to me.”

“And you, me,” Rye responded as tears finally broke free and made their way down his face. His forever love was so good with words that Rye treasured every golden drop from his lips, no matter how much pain comes with the beauty. “You were my last thought,” He expressed, keeping their foreheads pressed together as the fear from that day crept up his spine and tore at his shoulder like the constant reminder that his scar would always be. “I heard the sirens, little Danny was gone and Dekcy was passed out, me and Elisa had tended to who we could. I heard those ambulance sirens and I thought about how I wanted to get up and find you now that the real help had arrived. I remember getting up and Elisa yelling something and then it was just your face in the darkness and I felt so safe. And then I woke up in the hospital bed,” He laughed with the ghost of a feeling catching his breath halfway through. Swallowing roughly, he continued through the thick feeling in his throat. “You won’t lose me. I won’t steal you away and I won’t abandon you. But I’ll love you. I’ll go with you on your adventures as you learn how to paint your world with different brushstrokes, and I’ll develop some techniques alongside you,” Avery’s color metaphor may be getting away from him in the emotions of the moment, but JP was used to using context clues when it came to deciphering how Rye’s brain-to-mouth filter worked. “This won’t be Apollo and Hyacinthus. I want to be your technicolor.”

Okay. Rye lost him with the metaphors but he got the general gist. He didn’t know what else to say except, “I love you.” With the surging tide of warmth, Jericho drew the other man with his eyes, before laying his mouth on his. Rye’s sweet lips puckered and like medicine, JP let their kiss soothe his soul and combat all the dark that resided in him. They kissed passionately, fervently, and desperately, with shadows dancing around them. Lost in a bubble of time and space, JP made this moment more about him cherishing Rye than anything else, like him wanting to caress his lover’s thighs and fuck him. Rye’s light moans as their tongues swirled around one another only made his urge far more stronger. Still, as sexy as Rye was when he was being handled by him, JP wanted to keep this shared time PG-13. At least until they ate dessert. Pulling away, so they both could catch their breath, the musician brushed a curl behind Rye’s ear and inquired, “Before you get your mousse, answer me this — since tonight is a night of questions. What was the first thing you noticed about me? What made you think, yeah, I like this guy and want to see where things go?”

“It was your eyes,” Rye answered after a long moment of trying to gain his breath from JP’s sudden bout of passion. He didn’t even need the time to think about JP’s question. It was his favorite memory to dream because he got to relive one of the brightest moments of his life while he slept. “Those big dark eyes under that silly Marty McFly hat staring me down from across the room. I couldn’t hear anyone else around me because suddenly all I was focused on was you and then you were right in front of me when I hadn’t even realized I’d walked over to you and-” His gaze softened as he reached out to hold his forever’s face. “And they were so beautiful, but so full of pain. They were what my ma had always called healer’s eyes, and I knew I’d found someone that would understand the parts of me that others couldn’t, because you had parts like that too. I saw you from the start, Jericho Phillips-Shomer, I love you, and I can’t wait to see where you go.”

“I’m taking you with me, you know that right? Where I go, you go. There’s no other option,” JP brushed his nose against Rye’s to remind him of his presence and that because he knew him, he was changed for good. Not in a bad way either. Jericho would have never thought in a million years that he’d talk about his father with someone, especially not a lover because he thought love was a rare commodity. In came the Shomers and his world shifted. He no longer wanted to play sad songs because for the first time he found something, no, he found someone to call: his. Sure, at the start they both slept around and he knew Rye would always love Mordechai to some degree, but he also knew he had a place reserved just for him in Rye’s heart. A place to call his own. His home. Grabbing Rye’s hand, he placed it on his chest and whispered, “Yours.” This was the sappiest he’s been in some time with Rye and even if it was a little embarrassing, he hoped it made his Sprinkles feel incredibly loved and incredibly wanted. Just how Rye made him feel incredibly loved and incredibly wanted.

“Yours,” Rye parroted back while blushing, closing the hand over JP’s heart and grasping the shirt fabric beneath his fingertips as felt the man’s pulse quicken. He looked at JP so the man could see it, see that he wasn’t looking at his rock or his lighthouse anymore, but that he was looking at his world and his adventure and his ever unraveling story filled with messily scrawled footnotes in every margin. His love above all who keeps his soul’s flame burning bright. “‘Til the ends of this earth and into the stars.”

In good ol’ JP fashion, he wrapped his arms around his lover, burying Rye into his chest and softly sang the last part of the song he was listening to before he entered the apartment.



Once he was done singing, he held Rye in silence and let their silence speak for itself. He closed his eyes, absentmindedly running his hand through Rye’s hair. Who knows how much time passed but to ruin the moment, because they had been too sentimental this whole night, JP trailed his hand down Rye’s back and squeezed his butt, “Are you going to eat your dessert or am I going to eat it for you?”

Yelping in surprise at the action and jumping a bit in the bigger man’s grasp, Rye laughed and pulled back to say, “We could compromise and eat them together, how’s that sound for you?”

“I want something else,” Jericho flirtatiously squeezed Rye’s butt again before heavily sighing dramatically, “BUT I could wait.”

“Or,” Rye squeaked with a blush high on his cheeks before clearing his throat and pulling the man by his shirt into a feverish kiss, keeping his tight grasp of the fabric as he pulled back to whisper in his ear, “We could have the best of both worlds and you can eat it off of me.”

Well hot damn.

JP was quick to push Rye back and climb on top of him. He started with the neck, licking and sucking it before letting his tongue glide up Rye’s neck toward his face and to his ear. Nibbling on Rye’s earlobe, JP used his left hand to get ready and take his boyfriend’s shirt off, at first clamping on his waist. The same hand found a place under his lover’s shirt and his touch built tension and heat between the two of them.

He purred into his forever’s ear, “You don’t have to tell me twice.” With ease, he stripped Rye from head to toe. His tongue swept Rye’s mouth again and from there, the two boys got lost in time, lost in each other. Raw and without restraint, they expressed their deepest emotion, unburdened by disconnect. They merged and tangled, they loved and never let go. JP groaned Rye’s name over and over, continuously expressing his love. Wanting him, loving him. They had their whole lives to explore. That didn’t mean they couldn’t start tonight, exploring every part of each other until they both saw stars.

That’s what love was.

That’s what it meant to meet someone in the middle and finally come to a place of harmony.

Separately, they were in black and white. Together though? They were in a symphony of colors. A beautiful song that painted the other’s world. Their souls were prismatic and the world, their world, needed them.

Jade was back at Adora’s home, sitting on the couch, taking in the mid-afternoon rays from the sun that peeked through the window. After her rather enlightening and equally productive healing journey in the fields with Key, who was sitting next to her. They both had an exhausting, yet momentous morning, so they were enjoying the relaxing moment with each other. Jade found herself in a crossroads state of mind. She was at a fork where she was trying to figure out what the best course of action might be for her.

On one end was what her brain was telling her to do, the logical and most neutral decision of them all. To not do anything sudden. In the back of her mind, Jade didn’t want to leave Blue Hill so suddenly because that wouldn’t do anyone any good. She had dipped for so long without giving any word to her family and friends. And with her new friends, she definitely didn’t want to leave that bad impression that after being there for all of them for a majority of the past twenty-four hours, she would just dip again.

But then there was the other end where her heart was gravitating towards something that Key spoke about. How she shouldn’t let that person who meant so much to her, almost more than life itself, go. Which was funny as she thought about it more. Life to her was like a chosen angel whose wings were clipped. They could only look up at the malevolent sky, knowing Heaven was up there but without her divine wings, she couldn’t go anywhere but adjust to what her state was now.

That was Willow Jade Taylor’s life for nearly two years and it might’ve been her life had she not decided to take a step and call Poppy yesterday. But the truth of the matter was that she had more than just a moment of being tired of isolating. Anya was at the forefront of a lot of the progress she made before this journey to find Tena even began. Anya, her Pancake, helped her realize a lot about herself and how she needed to act on life itself. This was reinforced by the wise man sitting next to her. Of course, a lot about what happened yesterday was also accelerated by Cameron Hyde. That in itself was terrifying for Jade.

Maybe now more than ever, she couldn’t let her mind do anything for her. It had worked against her for so long. It put her into a daze of overthinking, depression, and using any and all poison to numb what hurt her. Jade had closed her heart for so long, but Anya was the one person to break down the walls. And now, with the magic that was Blue Hill, it was open for the first time in nearly six years.

There was a moment where Jade had mentally decided on what to do. Right as she was about to express this new revelation to Key, she heard a sound from the front entrance of the house. Momentarily, the blonde peeked her eyes and saw Poppy. Something she immediately had noticed aside from her glistening cheeks and her eyes was a rare sight even rarer than a drama-free week in Edenrdige. For as long as she could remember, long before Charlie’s death caused a permanant rift in the town and their quartet, was a smile on the ghostly face of her soul sister that she swore lit up the room and cleared it up of any and all negative energy.

She nudged Key in the shoulder to take notice. “Hey there Pops!” Jade stood up, greeting the brunette with a smile of her own. “Wanna fill us in?” Jade didn’t want to mince words. It wasn’t every day she got to see her best friend look this centered. She needed the deets! Her groundbreaking decision could wait.

Mordechai looked up when Jade nudged him and found a smile reaching his face as well. Poppy’s smile didn’t hide her tears or the tracks they’d made on her face but it certainly made it seem as though it was a good thing those tears were there. He knew from his own healings that tears can be an amazing cleanser for a wounded soul. When you carry so much darkness around inside you for so long, there are only so many ways to free it from your flesh that don’t cause harm to yourself or others. He’s tried many of the ways, and in the aftermath tears have by far been the least painful and guilt inducing.

“I think she went on her own version of our field walk,” He said softly as he too stood up to make space for Poppy to sit down between them on the couch. “Didn’t’cha Pops?”

“Mm, I did. I’m SLEEPY now,” Poppy shuffled to her friends, noting Charlie’s jacket she had left hanging on a dining room chair. Plopping herself down, not needing much room for her small frame, she relaxed herself before her friends rejoined her on the couch. She snuggled between them, grabbing both of their hands. When they all settled, she leaned her head back on the couch and giggled, “So Ronnie lied to us.” She shook her head at how silly this ruse was just to set them on the path of self discovery and healing. Ronnie was a clever woman. She always knew that but this move showed exactly why Pops looked up to her. “She did this to unite our two worlds and to heal. Mitena needs us, just as much as we need her.” Glancing from one friend to the next, she squeezed their hands, “We won’t get all the answers in one day but… I think we needed this and if you guys ever come back, I’d like to come with you. I really like it here.”

It was like she was sitting next to a completely different person, or someone Jade hadn’t seen in such a long time. This wasn’t just Poppy the friend who had been by her side for the past couple of years despite things in their lives collectively being crap, but this was Pops, her soul sister before the worst event of their lives changed the trajectory of their lives forever. She didn’t even seem to care that Ronnie lied. Ask Jade that yesterday and she might’ve felt differently, but she felt like she made so much progress within herself and seeing that in her two best friends, it was clear that this place was more than just another destination in this whole mystery surrounding Charlie and his letters. This felt like another place they could escape to.

“Though speaking of answers, what did we learn in class today?” Jade laughed at her own bad joke. She glanced at both Key and Poppy, seeing their faces and how those faces of theirs had familiar expressions. In all honesty, Jade hadn’t felt this relaxed in all ways implied in a very long time and sure as hell hasn’t felt this weightless in years.

Penelope came in with an inside joke between her and Resi and widely smiled, “Bagels. I’ve only seen bagels with salmon and cream cheese. It’s time I start shifting my bagel. Maybe put some chives on it instead.”

“It’s…great you’re interested in havin’ your own bagel?” Mordechai replied with no small amount of confusion, well aware he was missing an important piece to puzzle the sentence together.

Rolling her eyes at her best friend, she explained her own metaphor, “I don’t think it takes much for you guys to see I have an eating disorder. Today, Forrest gave me half a bagel. Everyone has to start somewhere, he said. But instead of salmon, which is all my mind has been thinking about. Charlie. Charlie loves salmon and my identity became Charlie. Not Penelope. Just Charlie. He put chives on it instead. I realized in that moment that while it won’t happen overnight, one day I’ll be whole again. I won’t ever be the same. I’ve been so used to salmon that it became all I am. I don’t necessarily have to let go of his memory since that’s honestly impossible. So instead of looking at it as if I'm leaving him behind, I’ll change how I look at things. I’ll carry his memory forward as I find me again. As I find Poppy and ‘grow towards the light like a flower’.... Tena said that last part.”

“That’s really great, Pops. Really, I’m happy you found that start of this incredible journey of…well, I’m not sure what we can call it.” Jade’s blue-green gaze was on her soul sister for a long moment. She let out a small laugh, almost a barely-audible chuckle as she still struggled to put a word to what happened to the three of them. Seeing that old version of her mixed with this new version of herself that was, from where the Angel Princess sat, started to take shape. She saw it because she knew Poppy wasn’t the only one breaking free from that cocoon of sorts. The soil here was rich with exactly what they needed.

“I’m real happy for ya, Pops,” Mordechai spoke up with genuine warmth as he leaned into her, squishing her firmly between the bigger two of the trio. His whole being was warm and relaxed and he was happy to have his two friends here with him and also experiencing levels of healing. He knew that things would be harder when they returned to the stress of their hometown; unlike Jade and Poppy, he’d been through the Blue Hill Experience yearly since he was ten years old. Blue Hill was safety and healing for those from Edenridge, but the town itself always received its residents back from their temporary loan outside its borders. They couldn’t stay happy forever, but they could actively work towards it once they cross back into town and face down their own separate demons, and Modechai was content in the moment with that knowledge.

“I’m gonna start living for myself,” He revealed after they’d all had a moment with the silence. His revelations with Adora and Jade were fresh on his mind and felt the need to share with his friends as they’ve continued to share with him. It felt right. “I can be fine with gettin’ sober for others but I’m gonna find out how to build a life that makes me happy…That includes tryin’ for somethin’ real with Sunshine a-and Mamba, if they’re for it.”

“Mordechai’s in lurvessss,” Penelope teased, leaning into him and brushing her face against his body while he laughed. “Which reminds me, betch.” She playfully narrowed her eyes at Decky, really coming across as a whole new Poppy, less trauma filled and more optimistic of her future, “I don’t expect your family to be my family but I’d at least like a moment with them. If they love you, I hope they know I’m part of your life and I’m sick and tired of being the little girl that stays home waiting for her friends to come by. Let me fight for my place. ReyRey said it himself! He called me a baby snake when I was cursing him out during the whole Allison shitshow. I deserve the feeling of belonging, just as much as you and Jade do. You both,” Poppy glanced over to Jade, squeezing her hand a couple of times, “Have your southie families with the serpents and the angels. I’m not saying I want to be part of the gang life but I am saying: please don’t leave me behind anymore.”

“You're right,” Mordechai admitted easily, holding his free hand up in surrender and slumping his shoulders dramatically. “Can we at least wait until later in the week though? I already gotta meet ReyRey at the Edge tonight for placement and I gotta make my own rounds after that.” Mordechai tilted his head before adding. “Unless ya just wanna smush yours and mine t’gether and meet while everythin’s fresh.”

“If you really want to do it like that, I’m sure I could convince the Angels to let you use the clubhouse for whatever kind of rite of passage that Pops would need to go through.” She knew they knew she was only half-joking, but the jokes aside, there was something important in her words. “Or you could just become a prospect. You’re pretty much already a member because they aren’t just my southie family. You are, too. Both of you are. And really, all you’ll need is a working bike and they’ll accept you in.” She nudged Pops almost jokingly.

“My mom would scream and my dad would question his parenting. I’m sure that would end well if I became a hot, pale ass biker chick,” Poppy humored Jade, before turning to Decky, “I can wait. You know where I live. Literally a window away. Now,” Poppy released their hands and sat up, “I should be exhausted as fuck but I suddenly got a second wind. I’ve met so many people today and not once I had a panic attack! Progress! But that’s beside the point, what’s next on our agenda?” Poppy looked from side to side, patiently waiting for a response.

“Well…” There was a short moment where Jade’s glance fell to Key. He knew what she was leading to; she just had to find the right way to put it. “Since we’re sharing revelations, new breakthroughs, and the like, I think now might be a good time to mention that I found someone as well. Like how I imagine Mamba and Sunshine make Key feel, my person does the very same for me. After going to the fields with Key, I realized just how deeply I feel.” Just like when she first confessed it to Key, Jade’s heart had started to beat at a rather fast pace and her face felt hot all of a sudden.

“Jade’s also in lurvessss,” Mordechai laughed lightly as he mimicked Poppy’s earlier taunt. “Shit man you’re gettin’ red as Pops’ sunburn!”

“Am not!” She protested defensively. Just as she did, her face deepened a shade of red. “It’s just…hot in here. I swear Adora must love living in an oven...”

“The flames’a passion do make things pretty hot,” He shot back with a shit eating grin. “Ya sure it’s just your face heatin’ up?”

“Oh shut up!” She laughed, rolling her eyes with a smile of her own. It was literally like her face was on fire at this point. Jade usually didn’t let this sort of thing affect her, but it was and she extended her leg over to Key’s end as the sole of her foot hit Key’s shin lightly.

"Oh yeah, gonna be chasin' all kinds'a feelin's all night, I can already tell," the man snickered as he shifted his leg away playfully. "She's got it bad Pops, this is gonna be fun." It's been far too long since they were all able to play like this. Since they were able to prod and tease and toy without it ending in one of them feeling broken. He's missed his angels, and the stories they could've created together, and he finally feels like he's at a place where that's going to change. "I always had ta take shit for the people I saw, this is me bein' supportive."

Penelope’s laugh disrupted their playful banter and floated in the air like a sweet, uplifting melody. She felt little tears build up in her eyes as she continued to giggle in between her friends. Even after all this time, she still had more rain inside her. “I really missed this, all of this. I missed you both.” She wiped her eyes and the few tears that made their great escape. Brightly gleaming at each of them, one by one, and in between breaths, Poppy sincerely expressed, “Thank you for coming back home,” and placed her hands on her chest. On her heart. They could each take that how they want; it was directed to both of them and knowing Poppy, there was more meaning to it than just the literal.

Hell never looked so normal.

When Mika originally agreed to have lunch with his father, he had a million scenarios run through his head to the point where he created his own that weren’t even close to what was realistically possible. Scenarios of a what-if scenario, if you will. A life when he was never sent away - when he and his sisters were never sent to live in Edenridge. A life when his brother wasn’t an asshole nor where his parents ever split up.

That life was something that Mika thought about a lot, but especially as of late. Being back in the old house brought a lot of those old memories and this wasn’t the property in Brighton Beach. The buildings that were built like a fortress and looked like an upper east side condo. No, the house he was at was the house where everything bad in the first thirteen years of his life happened.

As he sat as tense and restless on the same couch that he had those rare fond memories with his mother and Uncle Sergei, just being a kid as much as he could, Mika also couldn’t help but be reminded of the other memories associated with this couch. And this house. It felt so empty with nobody in it. His mom’s light, the twins’ energy - there was something very ominous about the mansion he once called home.

It was strange. Being back here after almost four years, Mika thought by stepping back into it he would feel the same dread and forlornness that he was overtaken by that day he and his sisters were put on a car ride by Sergei and were driven to their destinations. From the time Sergei let him in, leaving himself so the two of them could talk and left Mika alone with Ivan who hadn’t made himself known yet. Mika spent several minutes in the eerie quiet. As he did, one thing became clear and it was that he did not feel as he once did. He was still so full of ire for his father but it wasn’t the raging storm he had been hoarding and letting fester inside him. It was subdued, under control, and mild.

Did it have anything to do with the pictures still remaining in view? The giant portrait of the family when they were all still happy that was staring back at him as he leaned back into the cushion? Maybe it was his recent losses that took some of the anger away and replaced it with a numb emptiness. Danny was his light for the few years that Mika knew him and Coach O’Hara made Mika feel like he was accepted into a family he was part of even though he wasn’t really. And then there was Cece, the only person after Veronika that Mika felt something true for, yet he couldn’t bring himself to let her know this part of his life. Not about who his family was. Not about where he came from. Not even about the first love of his life.

V was his childhood love (or puppy love to some people). If she were still alive to this day, there was no doubt in his mind that he would have married her. The life they spent so many years in their formative years. But she wasn’t.

And now he has lost two people that he loved dearly - two people that were so similar in the way they spoke and made their ways into Mika’s heart. He lost them through means that were out of his control. One to suicide and the other to Charlie Decker, someone Mika seldom had anything to do with.

That’s probably why his anger, especially considering where he was, had been consumed by an overwhelming grief that he had to keep bottled up.

“Deepest apologies for that, Mikhail. I hope you weren’t too bored waiting on me.” Ivan made himself present. He held his phone in his hand and pocketed it in his back pocket. Mika looked his way and saw a casually dressed man. He wore a turtleneck that was dark in color, jeans that looked expensive, and his blonde hair combed to perfection (as was the way of Ivan’s style). Always liked to appear like he was the most approachable man in the world. “As you know, work waits for nobody.”

Yeah, Mika remembered.

He watched as his father claimed the recliner chair across from him. His father always liked to sit where he could see everyone else. Where he sat, he was directly behind the family portrait. The sounds of the fire dancing, sparks flying in the immediate area of the fireplace provided an ambiance that only Ivan managed to rob any beauty of. He always had that way about him and Mika hated him for it. But he had to shrug that off as much as he could.

“It’s fine,” Mika fibbed, but feigned a smile, absentmindedly gesturing towards the photos. ”You left all the photos up. Even the ones from long ago.” Mika gestured to the left where the fireplace was. On top of it were Christmas decorations but also the photos of them.

Ivan smiled, following his son’s gaze. “Of course. Why would I take them down?” He remarked, mildly offended. “My family may not live here anymore…for reasons I’m sure you’re aware of. I cherish my family all the same.”

Bullshit. You only cherish us now because your actions drove us away. That was something Mika wanted to say, but he wasn’t trying to make this into a fight. If that happened, he knew, at some point, Ivan would cause it. He always knew how to ruin something civil. “Speaking of…What’s Viktor doing these days?” Mika felt the venom on his tongue as soon as he uttered his big brother’s name. Just the thought of Ivan’s perfect son, the son he wished Mika was, was poisoning all of the progress he knew he made in the three years, but he needed to give this a shot. And as damning as it was to his own well-being, with what happened with Hyde, Mika couldn’t help himself but be curious.

And as soon as he did ask, Mika knew that it was something of a sore topic for Ivan. His rather pleasant demeanor fell down some. Mika saw his father’s eyes grow dark like before he was about to say something that would for sure start a fight. As Ivan closed them, gripping both armrests of his chair for a brief moment, Ivan took in a deep breath. “Your brother…he is overseas. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but seeing as how you’re a man now and clearly capable of understanding the ugly truths that put a roof over your head, here it is: Viktor runs operations for the organization in London. He’s quite efficient. The clear successor when I retire.”

Mika didn’t know what to expect. He was never privileged enough to know the inner-workings of the business and to this day he never willingly asked about it, but hearing Ivan speak so openly about it was a shock. Where was the monster who terrorized him? Who beat him? Who made him feel like he was less than nothing? This wasn’t the Ivan Vladinov Zima that Mika called father. This was a man, if he didn’t know it any better, was treating Mika as an equal.

“I see. And…has he asked about how any of us are doing? Katie? Stacy? Mom?” Me? Mika hated he wanted to know if his brother even cared, but he couldn't take it back now.

Ivan hummed thoughtfully, thinking about his next words, seemingly in a careful manner. “Mikhail, do you think of your brother as some kind of monster?” Ivan asked bluntly. “I acknowledge that he was not the best to you growing up. Perhaps I am to blame for that. Perhaps you are--”

And there he is. “I never said--” Ivan raised his hand up and Mika flinched. Fuck, the trauma was coming back.

“Let me finish, son. Viktor never thought of you as less than himself. I admit, I made many mistakes when raising you. Your mother often reminded me of them and I was either too prideful or too stuck in my ways to listen. When she left me, that is when she heard about the shooting in Edenridge, not only did she fear that her dear older brother John was in trouble, but she feared the worst for you and your sister. And your brother had a similar dilemma with himself. Viktor wanted to drop everything too, but--”

“But what?” Before Mika could stop himself, he cut Ivan off. Again.

“Your mother insisted he stay in London. She would call him if anything happened and only then would he fly out.” Ivan leaned forward, his crossed leg dropping to the ground. “Your brother loves you, Mikhail. Like me, he is full of regrets about both how he treated you and how things were left between you two. I…know that you met another brother of yours. Cameron Hyde, is it?”

Of course he knew about that. Mika was, after all, sent to live with The Gonzalez. Ley was the one that Hyde nearly killed. So it stood to reason that Ivan knew about the existence of Hyde. He probably was aware of Anya, too. “I don’t want to talk about him.” Mika started to tremble inside. As much as he tried to hide it, there was no denying that it was a touchy subject for him. The terror that Hyde struck into Mika and the ragehe felt towards him was only rivaled by that very dread.

And Ivan saw it right away, but he didn’t press. “Of course.”

Truth was, Ivan knew a lot of things about Edenridge, more than Mikhial would ever know. He knew all the big players from the Fallen Angels to the line of connections the Serpents had. Ivan was well invested in Edenridge, but he also knew the kind of man that his second oldest son grew up to be. He did what he could and asked a favor of a close friend of his to keep an eye on Cameron Hyde. He didn’t know if it would be enough and understood the position that he put Charlie Taylor in, but that was something he had to risk. Perhaps on some level, Ivan felt remorse for some of the choices he made in life. April McMahon and Taisiya Kamensky were among two regrets he held deep in his heart.

As he thought about those two, he knew that April was around somewhere, but all of the sources he had that kept tabs on his family in Edenridge and Pinehurst, of them all within various gangs, organizations, and others that would be in the position to keep tabs, none could account for Taisiya even years after he spent an amazing few hours with her. It troubled Ivan to the degree that it led to part of the reason his wife could not handle staying with him any longer. To be honest, Ivan had not been the same since his children were sent away and that so clearly ate away at his soul.

But looking at Mikhail right now, as he sat across from him, so clearly disturbed by the sheer mention of his half-brother, Ivan could feel himself half-smiling. It was small and barely noticeable, especially for his son who had other things on his mind (and it showed on his face), the one thing Ivan knew he had a chance to do was, at the very least, try to make amends. “Mikhial.”

He came out of the daze that forced him to flashback to the less-than-cheery times in 2017 when Hyde had gone down a rabbit hole of crazy that left a lasting impression on him, his father’s voice had brought him out and he gave Ivan his semi-divided attention. “Yeah?” He responded with too much suspicion that there was no way Ivan wouldn’t pick up on it.

He chuckled but ignored the overwhelming air of reservation surrounding his son’s face. “If I promise to not bring him up again, would you do your father one favor and answer me a question. Truthfully and as honestly as you can.”

Okay, what was he up to? There was no way his monster of a father would even ask such a thing if it wasn’t going to come with a price. A favor of sorts that he’ll collect in a few years. Of course, that was the first thing that went through his mind, but on the off chance that Ivan had a no-strings-attached reasoning, then what harm could it do? As he shrugged, Mika said, “Fine. What’s your question?” He shifted in his seat. His hear was beating too fast for his own comfort. He was leaning forward but only slightly.

“I’m aware I was never the best father. I know you wished you had someone like Reynoldo Gonzalez, or even John O’Hara--”

“--How did you know about--”

Ivan laughed. “Mikhail. Don’t play me like an idiot. I am not one and you know that better than anyone. I don’t blame you for wanting to know your mother’s side of the family. And I do weep for David O’Hara’s death. I know how it pained your mother that she could not be at her brother’s side during that…unfortunate time in his life.”

Couldn’t? Or did you forbid her? Mika remembered that time. “Ivan, I won’t treat you like an idiot if you do the same for me.” Mika felt it. He felt that familiar rage starting to build for his father. It was held behind a wall that was created when Ivan did not bring up the bad times or showed shades of his old self, but a snake could only hide its true skin for so long before it had to shed its garden variety into a Black Mamba coat and Ivan Zima was far worse than a Black Mamba. “Just..ask your question!” He almost snapped but kept his voice as low as he could, but at the state he was in currently, it was becoming difficult to manage.

“When Sergei told you I wanted to have this meeting, you had a day to think about it. You could have left and gone back to Edenridge last night.” Ivan kept his cold blue eyes on his son, the thing they both shared. “I am no fool and I am also not oblivious to the…conflicting emotions you hold for me nor do I or will I blame you for them. I was cruel to you. VIktor was cruel to you. I raised him to be modeled after me. To be better than me. Sometimes Viktor showed too much initiative. And during a time where I was hoping you’d both would see what I was really trying to--”

As the pot of rage started to boil, it slipped through the cracks of Mika’s face and he stood up. He wanted to scream. He wanted to walk right up to Ivan and punch him. He almost did and in his eyes, past the watery eyes that had developed by just listening to what Ivan decided to bring up, which was a lot more than just Ivan. The past few months have been weighing heavily on Mika’s heart almost to the point where anything would set him over the edge.

His fists were balled up and he almost raised thim at ivan, but he stopped himself. “Ask. Your. Question.” Mika gritted his teeth after calmly, yet eerily, speaking. This was the moment where Ivan had to choose between wanting to show Mika he really changed or validating what Honey Badger really wanted to do and that was to unload years of repressed ire on his father’s face.

Ivan sat and could only see his son with a sad, disappointed expression on his face. To think he was at his final point of doing something he’d regret or being better than Ivan ever gave him credit for. “Why did you decide to come here? You had such a terrible time in this house and in our apartment in Brooklyn. I was abusive to you. Viktor was abusive to you. I cheated on your mother more times than I can count on my hands. Am I proud of it? No, but I don’t regret it--”

Mika took a step forward. “You don’t regret it?! So my mother meant nothing to you then!? Anastasia and Katya meant nothing to you!?” Another step forward led into another and then another. Eventually, as Mika was standing…hovering over an unphased Ivan, his right hand gripped the man’s dark purple dress shirt while his other remained a balled cannon, waiting to be launched. “Our…family meant nothing to you!?” His voice cracked, rage, confusion, and a longing for a father that he wouldn’t know until Big Rey Gonzalez and Coach of the Edenridge Celtics, John O’Hara showed what a real father did. Ivan Zima was no man and no father.

Ivan Zima was scum.

And he was smiling at his son. “I see you gained the ability to finally show how you feel. That’s good. Finally, a real man stands in front of me--”

Before Mika could think about it. Before Ivan knew what was coming, all of the rage Mika had been repressing since he was thirteen was unleashed into Ivan’s smug face. One single left hook that would make Creed proud smashed into Ivan’s face, forcing the older man out of his seat. His body twitched and he was on his side, laughing in a way that brought Mika back to those early years.

Every positive thing in his life, every step he made to go forward in his life, forget about what Ivan Zima did to him. With just a laugh, it brought Mika back to the beginning. Back to the start of his downfall. First it was Veronika’s suicide that set so many things into a manic cycle of uncontrollable dominos that shaped his life from the age of thirteen to this moment with his father’s blood on his hands. The man that gave birth to the Devil himself and never apologized or took responsibility for the things he put into motion.

It was all for nothing. Meeting Natalia at that party and forming a close friendship with her. Meeting Cece a year later at David’s grave. Basketball and Danny. Boa and Danny Boaz. The Gonzalez family -- his family. Everyone he met that helped him see there was more to life than just where he came from and the life that he would live if he stayed in it. Every single person who made him feel like a normal life was possible - it all was reduced to a single sound that erased all of that progress.

“Why…Why do you always do this?” Mika spoke, breaking through the pain he felt, the overwhelming anguish and conflicting emotions he had for the man who was at his mercy. A battle was being waged inside Mika. The fight of Mikhail Zima, the son of Ivan Zima and Mikhail Zima, the abused, tortured son of Ivan Zima that loathed the man with everything he could spare. “Tell me WHY!!” Mika screamed as his left foot dug itself into his stomach, everything in him red hot like the fire inside him that was spreading. The man who he refused to ever call father coughed up blood. “You had everything! You didn’t have to be like this! You didn’t have to…” Send us away.

That was the root of everything. He hated his childhood. He hated VIktor. He hated his father for what he did, but deep down, what he hated the most about everything that happened, was the fact that Ivan sent him and his sisters away. He broke up the family.

As Ivan gathered himself, not laying a hand on his son, but just sitting up. He grunted and coughed more droplets of blood, the taste of metal and iron in his mouth. He smiled a crimson grin. “You continue to surprise me, Mikhail. I knew you held hatred in your heart and knew it would eventually happen, but to think you’d strike your own father. Well, I’m impressed.” He knew it was only a matter of time before his son struck again. “You ask why? Why what? Why did I sleep with those rather flexible blondes that gave birth to two kids that I’ve never met? Or are you talking about sending the children I actually gave any damn about, away from the only home they knew to save their lives because of the actions of a truly foolish boy?” He laughed again, his expression turning almost smug as he kept those blue eyes on the true spawn of his seed. “ Be more specific, Mikhail. What do you wish for me to confess to you? You who are responsible for your own life, maybe you could help an old man out.”

“I hate you…”

Ivan faked an “ah” moment as he clapped despite the pain he was in everywhere ribcage and upward. “That’s such an original and riveting confession, Mikhail. Tell me, is that what this is about? Sergei could have told me that much!” Through grits and pain, Ivan forced himself up to his feet. “Let’s unpack everything, shall we? Say what you really mean.” His one arm that was free gestured to his son to indulge him. “I know you hate me. I’ve known since before you knew. It was the way you always looked at me. That same look that always managed to do everything I said, despite all I put him through. So that can’t be the only thing that plagues your mind. What else is there, Mikhail? You asked me to be honest with you and I was. So let your father ask the same of you: what is on your mind?”

Mika was frozen. He was as paralyzed as any man…no, he wasn’t a man. No, he most certainly wasn’t a man. He didn’t feel like one. Ivan had sapped all potential of him keeping the confidence he had when he walked in when he showed his true colors. Mika was physically in the present, but mentally, he was the scared twelve-year-old kid who had just lost his best friend and Ivan was his usual tough love self first, forcing him to stop crying. Told him to man up. Told him that there was no use crying for the dead when there were more important people still alive.

He was there and he wanted to leave so badly. So why did he hold such a grudge for Ivan when he was sent away? He wanted to be away from his father so bad, yet the anger and contempt grew and festered for his father. “I..I--”

“For the love of God! Mikhail, you need to get a hold of your emotions and just…” Ivan, in a frustrated state, gave karma to Mika as his left hand landed on his son’s nose, causing him to stagger back and lose his balance over the coffee table that was in the middle of the foyer. And in a simultaneous motion, Ivan fell back to the couch behind him. “Goddamn it. Don’t you see, I’m trying to make you address everything that has been lingering with you, Mikhail. I know I fucked up raising you, Viktor, and your sisters. I know I’m not the father you wanted or, quite frankly, deserve. I know I’m not John O’Hara or Reynoldo Gonzalez. Hell, Sergei was a better father to you kids than I ever was. He sure as hell acted as a better husband surrogate for Mary than I could ever provide. I’m not anyone who deserves to be called father or husband. And that’s why you need to unleash it all.” For better or worse, there was no denying that they were father and son. Stubborn, set in their ways, and refusing to address what they’re feeling.

Mika was staring at the ceiling, admiring the fan that spun and spun around. He tried to mute his father’s voice into white noise, but no matter how desperate he was to make that a reality, he couldn’t and he listened to Ivan. For the first time, without the excessive boiling rage within him refusing to let his father’s words really sink in, he heard him. For the first time in so many years, he heard Ivan Zima. The worst part about it all, which burned and tasted way worse than the metallic aroma the blood in his nose gave off, Ivan was right.

Ivan was right about it all.

It wasn’t only the fact that he was right that Mika needed to unburden himself about everything he had been burying inside for so many years. It was what he had told himself since he was shipped off to live with the Gonzlez’s. It was the lasting impression Ivan and VIktor left on him. It was the damage that closed him off and all of the repressed thoughts of being told he wasn’t good enough. Being told he wasn’t allowed to feel anything but the boiling anger that men on his father’s side of the family seemed to thrive in, yet Mika hated it.

He absolutely hated it.

Ivan, Cameron, and VIktor -- they were the same. The damage done to Mika wasn’t ever going to get better. The only times he ever felt like that he had a chance of being better was when he was with Cece and when he had the guidance of Coach and the boys on the team, but since the shooting, that’s been taken away from him. The lies that he kept from his uncle and the recurring habit of his to always retreat into the circle that a scared and angry thirteen-year-old boy lived.

Mika was no man. No man at all.

As he stood up, he did so at a crossroads. Face his demons right here, right now, address them with his father, or refuse it and go back to Edenridge as fast as he could drive back. It took a minute, but Mika was out of his childhood home. He didn’t say a word to Ivan, despite all of the things his father yelled at him. Saying he was a coward. Saying he was no man. Mika left and he drove as fast as he could out of that cursed home. In his heart, he knew his father was right.

Secrets. Lies. Refusal to face his demons head-on. He was no better than Ivan was.

A monster and his heir. How fitting.

Pancakes.

It was always pancakes.

Faye often did her best not to think back to her childhood. When she did, even if she tried to think only of the handful of positive moments that existed, they were overgrown by vines and peeled away to unleash another moment drowned in her fathers darkness. She remembered free days, they came only once a month, where the girls of Garden could do whatever they wanted and act like actual children for the briefest of whispers.

Faye remembered one such day, fifteen years ago. She was nine and on that day, she found Anya being torn to shreds by one of those older sisters and the Matron. After the tirade and the tiny Russian was left alone, the inquisitive fox girl took her hand and led her to the kitchen. Faye asked Anya what she would like for breakfast and they would make it together. It was the first time that she had ever had pancakes and every free day since, the two girls made them together. No matter how often they fought, whether they were ok speaking terms or not, on a free day, they made pancakes.

So of course, that morning, their first together in a while, they made some beautiful and fluffy goodness before Faye left her sister to her life. She stopped by her new safe house for some fresh clothes before heading to the home of her current lover, Monisha Kumari, her Momo. It was a strange feeling for the Kitsune to try and be comfortable with someone but she was trying. She had seen Anya with that blonde girl, the way her sister looked at her. Faye wanted that. She wanted to feel and be human. It was a mountain that she had to trek in bare feet.

She didn’t know how Daddy chose the girls and what they were trained to do. Some, like Anya, were chosen for pure violence, to be the right hand of God. Then others, like Faye, were selected to be ghosts of people. To adopt identities, to gather information and to be anybody but themselves and act accordingly. The young Asian woman never had any real idea who she was anyway, so maybe that was why? She had killed. She had been killed. She had fought and she had fucked all in the quest of making sure her Daddy was always on top. The mission came first. Momo was not a mission. Momo was not an assignment. Momo was a history teacher and she was Faye’s gateway out of the garden and into the rest of the world,

Entering the house they shared, the fox-girl slipped off her shoes and crept silently through the hallway until she reached the living room, where her Momo sat in her own world. “Peak-a-boo.”

Monisha never had a sense of belonging. Shriya, her younger sister, had always been emotionally stronger than her. She had the motivation to pursue her goals, to not accept crap from anyone, and to be proud of herself without ever disrespecting her values. Riri was prospering and had created her own flourishing business in such a short period of time, it was hard not to be impressed. Even among Momo's own group of friends, she frequently struggled to blend in. Allison was stunning and endearing. JJ had such spirit, and Vivia had such brightness that Allison's decision to surround herself with enigmatic figures like Viv and JJ made sense.

What ever could Momo offer? She lacked Allison's vivacity, Riri's humour, Vivia's charm, and JJ's bubbliness. Hell, it had taken Momo a lot of courage to stray from her planned path of following her father into medicine. Devaj was pleased when at six, young Momo proclaimed she wanted to do "neeno surgery" like her father. Although he had never pressed her into pursuing medicine, she was aware that he was happy with her decision. And being the people-pleaser she is, Momo dutifully followed with the plan.

Until Allison died.

Bright, perfect Allison with so much ahead of her. Dead by overdose.

Did she have any regrets? Did she lay there, choking on her spit, thinking about the what-ifs. Anything she wished to have done differently? Did she want to live?

Then, Momo's group of friends splintered apart. Given the circumstances—Vivia was a shadow of herself—and the fact that JJ was practically gone, Momo did her best to continue. After Allison's death, she had phoned Vivia frequently in an effort to retain some sense of normalcy by spending time together. But Momo felt like she could never say the right thing. The glimmer from Vivia's eyes was gone and Momo couldn’t do anything to help her.

Life is simply too short to bear this much suffering. To think about the what-ifs and fear the future. So, Momo dropped the bombshell on her father that following summer, that she hadn’t applied for pre-med but was planning on pursuing History at university. The bookish Momo whose heart sang and imaginations ran wild when she had her nose dug deep into a history text book, knew that her passions truly and firmly lied in the past. With the dead and gone. Momo ignored the flicker of disappointment in Devaj’s eyes upon hearing her change of plans, instead focusing on the smiles on Riri and her mother’s faces instead.

She promised herself that everything would be okay. She would take inspiration from the bright women around her and follow in the way her heart led her.

And right now, all her beating heart could notice was Faye entering their shared apartment.

“I see you,” Momo smiled. She never repressed her smile around Faye. It was simply impossible to hide her joy around her. Momo placed her notebook on the table—all containing future class notes for the incoming semester in late August. “Where did you go? You were gone when I woke up.” It wasn’t an uncommon thing to happen. Faye was far more active than Momo given her status as the new Edenridge cheer coach.

Faye let her grin cover her face as she caught Monisha’s look with her own. They had met by chance. When she was a girl in the orphanage, little Faye’s favourite hiding place was the library. It was a monstrous room and she often found herself between pages in the history section, reading books back to back whilst she waited for the Matron to lock her in the hole for her behaviour. When she had matured, Faye liked to speak to people who enjoyed history to learn more, it was one of the few things she had in her life that was not controlled by Daddy. She had been friendly with the history teacher at Edenridge High when she was told he was being replaced. Of course, she wasn’t a great lover of that idea so she killed him there and then, garrotting him on his doorstep, before going to the home of his replacement, who just so happened to be Monisha.

Upon watching the young woman, Faye was enamoured and intrigued. She had seen Anya with her girl at the diner and wanted to feel the same way, maybe Monisha could be that? It was then she decided to try and arrange for them to meet at a bookstore. Fast forward and now they were living together in bliss or at least what bliss was described as in books. Faye was still struggling to understand whatever was going on in her soul. The Garden did not plant seeds of empathy in the hearts of the girls there.

The Kitsune jumped over the couch and landed perfectly in a straddle on her Momo’s lap, smiling widely at her beauty and caressing her face. She leaned in and inhaled Monisha’s lips into her own. She kissed the dark skinned woman passionately, giving herself to the history teacher as much as she could. After the kiss was broken, Faye leaned back slightly, resting her hand on Momo’s collarbone. “Well, I went to go see my sister.”

Allowing Faye to fully rest her weight against Momo’s body, the Indian girl shifted so she sank more comfortably against the back of the couch, angling her head up to give Faye access to her neck. Tracing her fingers against her Chand’s hand, Momo whispered. “I’m here to listen, if you want to share what is in that pretty head of yours.” Momo knew that Faye’s experience back in the Orphanage hadn’t been the best, but her love for her sister born out of their shared trauma had pulled her through. Momo never pushed Faye beyond what she was willing to offer, Momo was prepared to wait an eternity for her.

“She seems happy.” Faye lamented. There had never been a fixed number of girls in the orphanage. They were constantly in and out of the Garden. Some were adopted. Some died. Some became one of the daughters. Faye had seen many come and go with Anya and a handful of others being the few constants. “That frightens me.” The truth of the matter was, Anya falling in love was breaking a thousand of daddy’s rules. Faye didn’t know whether she herself had yet crossed that line but Anya definitely had. As talented as the Basilisk was and as natural at the game of blood as she was, she was still but a soldier, like Faye and their sisters.

“When we were girls, she was so delicate, so quiet. You know we used to share a bed?” The fox girl mused with a small smile. “She would get scared easy and jump into mine with me. I’d have to hold her until she fell asleep. She’s changed a lot. I just worry that somewhere in there that little girl is still scared and might make a mistake she can’t take back.” To anyone, Faye’s words would sound like a concerned big sister, worried her sibling was entering into a relationship they weren’t ready for. For a daughter of the garden, it meant that she was worried her father would have her killed. “Does that make me crazy? To worry for her?”

“No, it absolutely does not. You care for her.” Momo responded with conviction. “Family protects family. And you’ve always been the one to look out for her. It must be hard to break that view of your sister still being little.” Momo smiled gently, her fingers lacing with Faye’s. It always helped Momo feel grounded and she wanted to share the comfort with Faye. “When Riri and I were younger, our amma would sing us to sleep for the longest time. A lori that passed from her mother, coming from her own mother. It always comforted us, especially when I would have nightmares.” Momo shared lowly, feeling the warmth from Faye's hands envelop her. “But when appa got sick, she had to stop. So, I started singing for Riri. Not that it was great, Riri asked me to stop soon enough, but you get the idea.” Momo began laughing at the memory of Riri’s little face crumpling unpleasantly.

“The point is, a big sister never stops caring. She never stops thinking about how to help her little sister. That is our nature. And when you grow up feeling like the protector, you never stop seeing her as the little girl that climbed in your bed and held your hand till she fell asleep.” Momo reached up and planted a soft kiss against the corner of Faye’s mouth. “In your gut, do you think she’s doing something wrong? Something that will get her into trouble?”

Momo’s smile was infectious. Faye’s lips curled up as she stared into her beautiful brown eyes. “I honestly don’t know.” There was the first lie of the day. Kitsune were trickster Gods, creatures of mischief and deception. Faye wasn’t able to tell Monisha every truth, she couldn’t or dare she risk the same wrath of her father that Anya would surely face. Half truths were the best and safest bet. She could get lucky, the Russian was one of if not Daddy’s favourite. He might allow Anya to have a life or perhaps send a new sister whom the Basilisk could handle easily. Then again, for those exact same reasons he could send some like the Morrigan. God she really hoped not. The Morrigan was terrifying.

She has to change the subject lest she get lost in the lies. “You all set for the start of school? I know if I had a teacher like you I would definitely pay more attention in class.” Faye leaned forward and slipped her hands down Monisha’s toned body as she began to gently kiss her neck. “Though I might try to sleep with you for an A.”

Monisha laughed and nodded at once, a light, airy laugh that seemed to travel the air between them. A laugh of no stress, no worries. She noticed Faye changing the subject, but decided against commenting on it. “I have no doubt you’d be my favourite student if you’re actually as prudent as you claim.” Momo brushed her nose against Faye’s cheek, poking her playfully. “Luckily it doesn’t come down to that though, this place has had enough scandals to do with inappropriate relationships, I’m glad I don’t have to add a forbidden teacher-student romance to the list.”

Momo let go of Faye’s hand, instead brushing her fingers through Faye’s luscious dark hair. “Your hair is so beautiful,” She commented automatically, before an idea crossed her mind. “Do you prefer your hair to be long?”

Faye stopped kissing Monisha and leaned a little back so that Momo could continue to play with her hair. She loved when her lover did that. It was kink. “I prefer it any length that you can pull.” She purred as she sank her hips deep against her Momo. Faye didn’t know whether what she felt for Monisha was real or if it was her own way of trying to invent some normalcy for her life. There were too many variables that she could not fathom. She didn’t even know if love was even real but for Monisha’s sake, she really hoped it was. “Why babe?”

Momo’s dark cheeks warmed considerably as indecent thoughts started running through her mind like a beautiful slideshow. She experimentally pulled at the strands of hair her fingers were running through, watching Faye’s reaction carefully. “Ah, well,” She had to clear the husk away from her throat to continue speaking. “If you’d like, I can give you an Ayurvedic head massage? I was reading up on it last night and thought maybe…?” Her words drifted away as she thought of an excuse. Really, all Momo wanted to do was take away Faye’s worries the same way a single touch from Faye could do for her. The head massage should help, and the added bonus of stimulating hair growth was certainly not unpleasant. “Maybe you’ll like it?”

Faye had never heard of what Momo was proposing but this wouldn’t be the first thing like this she had mentioned. Monisha had a whole wealth of knowledge that Faye couldn’t even fathom. “As long as we get naked and I can kiss you while we do it? You can do whatever the hell you want to me.” She giggled playfully as she kissed her Momo once more. The petite Asian ran her tongue over the lips of her history school teacher, grasping at the bottom of her shirt with a feverish want. “You want to kiss me right?”

Momo breathed out in shuddering pants, as though her body entirely forgot how to function with that one kiss. Her grip grew tighter in Faye’s hair, pulling more intentionally so Momo would have access to her jawline. She kissed down the Asian woman’s jaw, nipping at the pulsepoint in her feverish attempt to tease the foxy seductress before bringing their lips together in a bruising kiss. “That, and so much more,” Momo admitted breathlessly, pulling away long enough to whisper her desire against Faye’s lips. Perhaps they could make do without the hair oil. Momo couldn’t trust her legs to carry her to the kitchen to warm the oil. Instead, her fingers continued running through Faye’s hair, intermittently switching between massaging her scalp and playing with her hair just the way she loved it.

Faye could help but moan at Momo’s kiss. She had slept with many men and women in her young life. That was her assignment. What in her childhood told her Daddy that seduction, enticement and information theft was to be her vocation she didn’t know. What she did know was that no one touched her, kissed her, brought fire to her body like Monisha Kumari. Faye grabbed Momo’s wrists and pulled them away from her hair. With her fox-like smirk, she slapped the dark skinned beauty’s hands against her backside and jumped in excitement. “Yeah the massage can wait.” Her voice was light and playful. Reaching down she lifted off her top to expose her body before leaning forward and nipping at Monisha’s small pierced ear. “Tell me you want me.”

“I need you.” The Indian beauty squeezed her lover close to her body till there was no space between them remaining. She rose towards Faye’s breaths, seeking herself in the seductress’ embrace till they were united as one. Momo knew that she was Faye’s, in body and spirit. If Faye ever asked, Momo would surrender herself each and every time at her altar just to see her smile, to see her writhe against her in bliss. It wasn’t a want, Faye was a need and in that moment she indulged in her passion. Momo kissed Faye with deep longing, her mind intoxicated by the taste and feel of her lover in her arms. Their bodies moved together like a soulful dance, their mouths singing each other's names in an unholy hymn of passion.

There was a moment of quiet at the Godmother as the young lad swept the floors and Sofi sat outside drinking a Sicilian blood orange soda. She went through pictures on her mother’s Instagram, going back to when she was small. Every game, every win, every loss, every milestone, her mother was always there. Football, or Soccer depending on who you were talking to, was her passion once upon a time. She was so good at it too.

She watched a video of her mother screaming her name after she made a goal, another one where her grandma was holding the phone, the video was a bit shaky, but it was halftime and her mother got her to do a Clover cheer for her little league to build morale because they were down by 8. Sofi watched videos of herself and her innocent kid face — how happy she was. Her mother did love dancing too, which a lot of the videos were of her being playful, having fun with her babies. It was the one thing that kept Cat centered throughout this shitty thing they called life.

Sofi didn’t understand how her mom could keep persevering, be so resilient, and dance like no one was watching. She’s the one grandpa pressures the most, she’s the one that takes the heat off her siblings, she’s the one that takes the heat from her siblings, and she’s always trying. Trying to build a life for her and her kids, with little to no help from the asshole she unfortunately had to call father. Now her mom was going through a divorce and her mother, Sofi’s grandma, was dying.

Taking a sip of her drink, Sofi stared up at the sky, her hazel eyes radiating warm honey hues and deep caramel. Contemplative and lost in thought, Sofia wondered of her mother’s life if she weren’t in the picture. If Cat never had her, if Charlie didn’t miss, would her mom be freed from the chains that held her from living her best life? Sofia couldn’t help but blame herself. A child was a burden and she didn’t make it easy for her mother by rebelling and doing what she wanted when she wanted because she honestly didn’t know how else to behave and hated sitting still.

If she wasn’t around, where would her mom be? What would she do? Would she even be here or would she have moved away with a highschool lover? Dexter Silo? Gabriel Darling? Sofia didn’t know too much about them but she did wonder if they made her mother happier, more than her father ever would. Her mother was so passionate when she saw Dexter which meant there was a lot of love there, once upon a time. The what ifs failed to leave her mind. If only she could give her mom a better time, a better life, a better hand… there was no use in thinking about the what ifs though. Was there? This was her mom’s life and she had to accept that her mom’s strength came from love and not pain. Or perhaps the pain was what led to love? Fuck, she needed weed.

Deeply sighing, Sofia pulled out the anchor keychain she stole from her mother’s desk and examined it. CC were the initials on it. If her mother had a new interest, why was she keeping things locked tight? Sure, Sofi knew her mom was still finalizing the divorce but if the heart wanted what it wanted, why keep this a secret? Maybe she was too young to understand. It wasn’t like she was ever in love. She couldn’t understand even if she tried. There was so much going on in the Belmonte family that her mom, once again, was holding back and waiting for the ideal moment for everyone else but herself. Sofia was selfish. If she liked someone, really liked someone, she would make it known that he was hers and she was his. Romance was gross though so the likelihood of that ever happening was unlikely.

For now, she had weed to keep the thoughts at bay, to numb the pain, and she had siblings to take care of. Even if she wanted to try dating, she would look like a goddamn idiot. Sofia was seen as cool and pretty in her class, she didn’t want to give anyone ammunition against her to ruin her life or those she loved. There was enough drama already especially surrounding her family so she’d do her part and stay a kid forever. There was no need to take anything serious when the moment you grow up is the moment your life becomes miserable as fuck.

The entrance door suddenly swung open, startling Sofia. Getting out of a leaning position, she pocketed the keychain and turned to her mother who was visibly in distress. Standing up, leaving her soda on the table, she rushed to Cat and worriedly grabbed her attention, “Ma, Mom. What happened, is everything alright? Are you okay? Is grandma okay?”

“Angelpuff,” Cat turned to her daughter, her purse hanging from her shoulder and placed her hands on her shoulders. “I promise you when I get a moment I’ll explain.” Her head was at eye level with Sofia’s, shaking the teenager’s heart to the core. “It’s okay I’m just overthinking… someone really important to me might not be doing okay. But like I said,” the italian mama straightened her posture and brushed Sofi’s shoulders, trying to ease the anxiety, “I’m just overthinking.”

The people in her mom’s life were speeding through Sofia’s brain. Vanessa? Harper? Brooke? Clari? Jonah? Bobby? Lydia? “Okay, it’s going to be okay mommy,” Sofi assured, grabbing Cat’s hand and squeezing it. “Just go, I can figure things out here.”

“No, no. Don’t worry. I already called your aunts. They’ll be here soon. Nina has her manager there so she’ll be here first, and Elisa after she drops off the babies with uncle Ricco will be on her way too. They said they’d take care of things here but could you do me a favor? Could you go stay at the Ossos for a little? Maybe call Ricky? I don’t want to overwhelm dad seeing how…”

“Grandma’s condition,” Sofia responded when her mother’s voice trailed off.

“Yes, my passerotta. So could you, for me? I’m sorry I’m like this. I must not be a good mother for—” Cat rambled. She was panicking, which only meant whoever was hurt was someone important enough to get her mother’s mind completely scrambled. Her heart overflowed with fear and grief.

“Mom. You’re amazing. Now go. I’ll text you when I’m with Ricky,” Sofia assured before giving her mom a quick hug. When her mom acknowledged that her daughter was going to okay, she turned to her car. Before she could get too far, Sofi slapped her mom’s big booty, “Old lady, it’s going to be fine. You got this.”

“Yeah, I got this…” Cat whispered before entering her car. In the car, Cat placed her purse down on the passenger seat, turned on her ignition and tried to calm her breathing, tears building up in her eyes. Her grip tightened on the wheel. What was up with her? This might not be as bad as she was thinking it would be. Clay had made her his emergency contact and they called her his wife. While that sent her heart fluttering, he was in the hospital. He hadn’t texted her too long ago and she thought he was fine.

Now, unexpectedly, just like the day she found out there was a shooter at the school, he was not fine. He could be dying. He could be dead. No, no. Don’t think like that Cat. The nurse didn’t give you much information on his condition. If anything, she was super vague. He could’ve just had a head concussion or a scrap or two and is resting in bed. To get the nerves out, she slapped her wheel and screamed, “FUCK!” This is exactly why she was afraid to love. To be in love. To have someone that meant so much to you and then lose them in a blink of an eye? That was awful. This was awful. With her teeth gritted as she breathed in and out, she left the curb to go to the hospital.

Calm down, Cat.

Eleanor Costigan sat on a bench outside of Sinclair Health, staring up at the big blue sky above. There wasn’t a single cloud to darken the day. The breeze was light and warm, as if the day was built from scratch to be perfect, the calm after the storm. She had spent the morning putting out fires and being quite confused about what the hell was going on. When her nephew, Adam turned up at her door, a boy she had not seen in years thanks to her big brother, that should’ve been a sign. Then she watched Jamie O’Hara, a girl she had known from the day she was born in the very hospital that now sat behind her, had a heart wrenching breakdown.

Ellie didn’t even clock that her own son was in the middle of the fracas until he was being loaded into an ambulance. She tore out of the house and jumped in with him. Her little Clay was a mess, bloodied, battered and bruised. When they arrived at Sinclair, she let the doctors take him whilst she called Sean, who was still a few miles out at sea and Laura, who as pragmatic as ever said that there was nothing to be done until the doctors had come back.

When they did, they told Ellie that Clay had a severe concussion, some broken ribs and a slipped disk, the artist couldn’t help but sigh in relief. It was mostly surface damage and he would recover with rest but that didn’t stop her heart racing. She had always worried for his safety, that’s just what a parent did. Yet she was the parent of a police officer; Eleanor’s greatest worry was that she would get a knock at the door or a phone call in the middle of the night that Clay was shot or that he was dead. She hadn’t yet come to terms with that worry. It haunted her.

Blowing out the stress from her chest, she tightened her grip on the seat of the bench, her fingers still stained gray with the clay from her unfinished morning pottery project.

At this point, Cat’s confidence had deflated and she was not the strong woman she tried to be everyday. The woman that was walking from the parking lot to the entrance of Sinclair Health was broken, a shattered glass ballerina glued together, trying to prepare for the worst outcome possible. During the car ride, her mind was on replay. She saw her and Clay’s first disagreement the day before and how she so easily let him walk away. She saw when he took her to the lake and he comforted her, let her lean on him, only wanting one thing in return, that she’d go back to being okay. She thought back to when he pulled her off one of her husband’s lovers at Afterlife and brought her to the safety of his apartment. She replayed their first kiss and their first time. She replayed their moments from now to when he ran on her father’s boat naked and into her arms.

Hugging herself, trying to not fall apart, Cat saw Clay’s mother sitting and staring at the sky. Swallowing hard, it felt like there was a ball in her throat, she approached the woman with a crestfallen expression. Her emotions had reached its peak from her mother battling cancer to her family ripping apart from the seams. She didn’t know what she was doing and she couldn’t hide the pain anymore. Not at this moment. Not when all she could think about was Clay not having another morning with her to eat breakfast, to joke, to dance with, to climb every mountain with and if she needed to rest, he’d be there to wait for her or pick her up and tell her it was going to be okay. She was going to be okay. Everything was okay.

Her mind was racing because for a short moment she finally understood what it meant to be happy and to not be ashamed of her tears and her broken pieces. He steadied her and kept her safe when she was constantly holding her family together. For once in her fucking life, she found someone who would swim a whole ocean for her just because he loved her and that’s it. All because he loved her. He loved her. He loved every flaw, every weakness, every ugly part and saw beauty where she didn’t. He did all that and all he wanted in return was her to be with him. For her to find happiness with him.

Fuck, what was wrong with her?

“Is he okay?” Cat breathed, announcing her presence to the mother of the boy that slipped his way into her heart rapidly and without warning. A boy that crashed into her like a tsunami. Instead of knocking her off her feet, he carried her where the light couldn’t. Caterina was terrified, scared shitless of anything bad happening to Clay. If only she told him how she felt.

Ellie’s chocolate eyes fell from the sky and onto the pained face of the neighbor girl. She shared her eyes with her son, so dark but so expressive. Many thought little of Ellie. She was a foundling, a Callahan no less, so life was easy for her. She was a space case who couldn’t remember what day it was and had many times been referred to as an unfit mother with no basis. Eleanor was far more clued in than people thought. It was easier for her to pretend to be dumb than to make others feel bad.

She had always known about Clay’s crush on Cat. The way he looked at her, the way his little eyes twinkled when he heard her smoky voice. And she knew her son, he would wait and fight until he landed the woman of his dreams. When they arrived at the hospital and they asked who Clay’s emergency contact was, Ellie assumed it would be her but when they read out Cat’s name? That all but affirmed her suspicion that her son was having an affair with the woman. She saw it coming before they did.

Ellie pushed herself up to her feet and took a step forward. She wrapped her arms around the younger woman and pulled her into a tight embrace. “He’s ok. A little banged up but he’s going to be fine.” She whispered into Caterina’s ear as she nuzzled into her neck, letting the pain out and letting love fill them both.

The sudden warm embrace of a mother opened the floodgates. Cat wrapped her arms around Eleanor, her purse hanging from her arm and silently sobbed into her shoulder. She had been a mess since yesterday that not even wine could console her. “I’m sorry,” Cat muffled into Ellie’s shirt. “I didn’t want you or anyone to find out this way. I’m so sorry if it’s caused you any pain,” Cat choked on her tears.

Picking her head up, Cat gazed into the eyes of the older woman who was a parental figure she and her siblings looked up to growing up. She was fifteen when her father decided to pack their bags and leave their home in the Big Apple. She was fifteen when she moved to Edenridge. She was fifteen when she was welcomed on Scott Street by the Costigans. One of the first families to make them feel part of the town. One of the first families to open up their home to them. Vivia grew attached to Eleanor and even picked up a paintbrush. Cat, however, had too much going on as the eldest Belmonte to stop and take in the fresh air. When she looked at Ellie she felt that. She felt her spirit and how unbothered she was of most things but not because she didn’t care. Eleanor Costigan was the embodiment of: don’t worry, don’t hurry, and be sure to smell the flowers along the way.

“I’m so glad he’s okay,” Cat uttered. Her pain bled through her words. There was no doubt there was so much guilt and grief in her words, woven in one tragic blanket. Unwrapping her arms and hands, Cat wiped her ugly crying face, blushing in shame and embarrassment.

“You should go to him.” Ellie reached forward and wiped away some of Cat’s tears herself. “I reckon at this point he’ll be more happy to see you than me.” Of course she wanted nothing more than to be with her baby boy but she could see it on Caterina’s face, the guttural cry and the shaking hands, the girl needed to be with Clayton. She was in love with her son. Selling Sean on the idea would be a mission unto itself but he could wait, he was still somewhere in the Atlantic. “I need to go get his Dad anyway. He’s in room thirteen on the second floor.” Elle leaned forward and pressed her lips to Cat’s cheek, holding her arm gently as she did so. “Look after him for me? He’s a good boy.”

“Okay,” Cat struggled to find the words. Her mind, in a haze. “I promise. No,” She corrected herself. “I will. You have my word.” She needed to stop guessing and hoping her life would get better. That her father would open up and admit his own struggles and pains. That her siblings wouldn’t take things for granted. That her kids didn’t hate her.

Already Cat was taking charge of her life by filing for a divorce and studying to become a police officer. Now it was time to embrace the feeling with the person that she wanted more than anything in this world. The future was unknown but she knew relationships were a commitment. She’s been through a few, one being a long, toxic marriage. She shouldn’t be afraid of this feeling. It made her happy and what was wrong with that? What was wrong with being happy? Cat needed to stop doing everything for everyone else and start dreaming again for herself. She needed to find her own happiness.

And that started with Clay.

“Be safe, Ellie, and… thank you.”

Clay lay in his hospital bed, staring up at the ceiling. He never liked hospitals though he knew with his chosen career path he would probably be seeing them a lot and should likely reserve a room. Wednesday Davies had been in the room shortly before to give Clayton his full diagnosis. Most of it was just big words he didn’t understand but from what he did get, he was just pretty battered up and wouldn’t need surgery. That was a plus. He always knew Russell could throw a punch but he didn’t know he could hit like a train.

He was doing what he could to push past the thoughts of his old friends and the drama that had unfolded over the last two days but he was fighting a losing battle. Clay wanted to speak to Jamie and Russel again, he wanted to talk to David and find out everything but at this point it didn’t matter. Caitlin had spoken her truth and the world now knew. The truth was out and he had done what he had set out to do. He moved his eyes to look at the door as the handle began to jostle. A welcome reprieve from his thoughts…



When she had reached room thirteen, on the second floor, Cat was scolding herself with how ill prepared she was. If she had stopped for a moment she could’ve made him his favorite sandwich or at least have something to offer, like flowers. All she had was herself and a heart overwhelmed, leading her out of the storm and to her peace. To the man she couldn’t stop thinking about. No man had ever made her feel the way Clay did. This was unlike any love she experienced. This was a different kind of love. The love she wanted her whole life yet never thought she’d ever have.

Truth be told, Tomasso never did love her and she never loved him. Her father gave neither of them a choice. A trusted ally of the Esposito family knocked his daughter up out of wedlock? Scandalous but not a mistake he couldn’t fix. He made it clear they would suffer the consequences and learn to love one another. That love never did blossom no matter how hard she tried. He was a selfish man, her rapist and if anything, he found it as the perfect business arrangement to indirectly attach him to a powerful family.

Gabriel was her first, young and innocent. He, along with Bobby and Lydia, were her OG friends after she moved to Eden. Then followed Jonah Steen and the rest of the Heartbreakers. They found an escape with one another, pushed their family problems aside to hold each other, love each other. Sadly that was short lived because his mother, Temperance, slut shamed her to filth and said she would never accept a harlot like her. Gabriel didn’t want to put her through that uphill battle when she had enough going on at home so he broke things off. After graduation, he left town.

Dexter, the man she saw not too long ago this very day, was her second, exhilarating and gut-wrenching. He unleashed a whole different side in her, purely intoxicating and she was obsessed. There was great pain in their story but if it wasn’t for him, she doubted she would be as persistent in proving people wrong. She was smart. She was strong. She was beautiful. All things she tried to be everyday while keeping her whole family united and standing tall. He made her hit rock bottom but then because of her lowest point, she was given Sofia and gained purpose beyond belief. Because of her lowest point, she was saved.

Her third? Clay. He came to her blindly and out of nowhere. No matter how many walls she tried to put up, he broke them down. All her defenses, they didn’t matter, because he wanted her for her. He saw her and only her. He undressed her body and her soul, saw beauty in her imperfections, and loved her. He loved her. All she could do was get lost in his eyes as he got lost in her’s. All she could do was be undoubtedly and devotedly his even if she still couldn’t say it outloud. Even if she couldn’t tell him how she felt. Even if she was scared.

Why was holding her back?

“Hey Casanova,” her throat was still closed up from all the crying, the great tremor having overtaken her in front of Sinclair’s. Placing her purse down on a chair, mustering whatever little strength she had to put a smile on, her makeup flaky and her eyes a little red and swollen, Cat turned and eased her way to him. “Looks like you had one hell of a day? Or two?”

The elation on Clay’s soul when he saw Cat walk in, was better than any adrenaline boost or morphine drip. He pushed himself up a little to greet her, wincing ever so lightly. “Hey Kitty.” He smiled that stupid goofy smile and brushed his long shaggy hair as he looked at the love of his life. “This is nothing. I got it worse when we played Cambridge in the fifteen state championship.” There it was. That humor. “Now get your sexy ass over here, I may look like shit but I can still rock your world.”

Rolling her eyes at him, always one to lighten the mood, Cat buried her creeping anxiety and focused on the present. Sauntering to his bedside, she gently reprimanded, “You shouldn’t be moving so much.” Sitting down on the bed, she surveyed the bruises and the cuts. She worriedly scanned his face and his body. He went through so much and she wasn’t there for him. Hesitantly, she reached for his hair and brushed another strand out of his face, leaning forward but keeping her touch to a minimal. She didn’t want to hurt him. “Is there anything you need from me?”

“Well now you’re just teasing me. How am I not supposed to say something dirty?” Clay could feel the goosebumps raise all over his body upon Cat’s touch. He quickly grabbed the hand she had by his face and pulled it to his chest. He thrust himself forward and with his other hand he captured the back of his love’s head, pulling her into a deep, passionate kiss. He had been aching for days to feel those lips and taste her flavor. It was what kept him going through his fight. He had to get back to his Kitty, he had to and now he had. He was home.

Stealing her breath away, Cat’s heart beat wildly as they kissed. She could only take sips of air as he held her firmly, grasping her hair. The frigid air of the hospital swirled around her prompting her to press herself into him, into his warmth. His body heat. Her hungry mouth, eager appetite, and heavy heart melded into his. She had spent the last two days full of ups and downs. A roller coaster of emotions. It was nice to forget and just focus on him. He didn’t wince once as they kissed which helped ease her shoulders and the tip of her tongue brushed his lips and slipped into his mouth. She clung to him with longing, held onto him for her life, and desperately explored his soul through his eyes. Shuddering, noticing how overcome by desire she was getting, Cat pulled away. “Baby,” she gasped for air. “Lay down. Rest.” Flustered, she adjusted herself, crossing her legs, “Or at least tell me, did everything go okay? Are you okay?”

Clay leaned back, a touch out of breath from the heat of their kiss. He looked at the concerned look on his Kitty’s face and reached out to the back of her neck. “Lie with me.” He guided her down with his hand until she was fully stretched out on the bed with him, snuggled into him. Their bodies were woven together like a tapestry. “I’ll be ok eventually.” He wasn’t going to lie to Cat, he couldn’t and he wouldn’t. He would not let this relationship, the one that he had wanted all of his life, to be stained black with an untruth. “It was a lot but I did it. With the help of some good people, I got it done. All I want now is you, to be with you and let the last two days rest.”

She was relieved he got what he needed done and that he acknowledged that the whole experience wasn’t something he’d get over immediately. That felt like a big step for him and she was happy he trusted her enough to admit his internal struggle. Maybe she should do the same? There was so much that happened with her that she didn’t even know where to start but just starting somewhere was a good first step. “I,” Cat looked up at him, cautiously thinking of the right words to say or even how to express herself in a way that showed him she cared about him, “saw my ex today.”

Looking away, tracing her finger on his chest, Cat pressed on, “He came to my shop and by ex I mean the guy that ripped my heart up into a million pieces in highschool. He wants to have a sit and talk with me and our kids… this Sunday. Sofi kind of put me in a weird place where I felt obligated to invite him to a horsemen scrimmage. Do you want to come with me?” This was a huge step for her. Not only did she not want to hide Clay anymore but she wanted him at her side when she was facing one of the ghosts of her past. She hoped this honesty showed how much he meant to her.

Well this was a turn up. This was Cat’s way of reaching out and trying with him. The walls were slowly coming down and it elated him. Still, Clay had to think this through. She wanted to go public and she wanted to do so in a way that certainly wasn’t subtle. In fact it was like crashing through a window with a machine gun. The fact that he wanted the kids to be present calmed Clay’s cops instincts. “I would love to come with you but I don’t think coming is what you need.” He gently caressed her auburn locks and pressed a soft kiss to Cat’s forehead. “This is something you need closure on. Me being there will just be a distraction and will take away from you getting what you want.”

After their argument the day before, Clay realized that he needed to fully give everything he was to Cat and give her all of his trust. “I can be there in the background, if it’ll make you feel safer but I won’t sit on the table, I think we should make our first glamorous appearance somewhere low key. I don’t know, maybe we get someone to restart the boy toy auction and you bet a few million on my fine ass.”

Cat squinted her nose at that suggestion. “With how many girls you’ve been with? I think not.” Her mood was lighthearted and spirited. She felt secure with herself, like she and Clay reached a breakthrough in their relationship. “We’ll figure something out. Thank you for trusting me…” she had so much to say and still didn’t know if it was too much to throw on him while he was in pain on a hospital bed. Still, it was time to follow her impulse. Turning herself so her stomach was facing the bed but still leaned up against him, she bit her bottom lip before asking, “I know what got you here is because of your duty to this town as a protector and all but I’ve been thinking. Do you think… I could be a good cop? I could protect too?”

Was his morphine drip too high? Did he hear that right? She wanted to be a cop? That was definitely a new lyric to their song. “Baby, you’d be the best cop.” He responded with confidence. “For so many reasons. One, you’d look crazy hot in the uniform. Arrest me anytime mama. Two, you’re already a protector as a Mom. You have the instinct inside you and you always have. Three, you can be downright terrifying. Instilling fear in the hearts of all without ever taking your gun out of your holster.” Clay looked down at her and smiled. “If this is something you wanna do, Cat, I’ll do whatever I can to make it happen.”

“Oh good,” Cat’s first tear broke free, in the arms of her lover. Burying her head in his chest, inhaling his natural scent, the Italian woman cried into his shirt. She wasn’t uncontrollably sobbing like she had done with Eleanor. Her tears were a gentle stream, delicately soaking his shirt. Once she reached for his hand so her’s was intertwined with his, she closed her eyes and listened to his breathing, his heartbeat, and the noises of nature coming from the open window.

Everything built up to this moment in time and Cat couldn’t hold back the crashing tide of her feelings. In love and in loneliness, from high to low tide, she was turning with the waves. They were crashing over her, fiercely and flooding throughout every fiber of her being. Finally, in her life she found the soul that paired with her. The piece that fits perfectly. He was the reason. In one gaze, he captured her soul. It was a blessing and a curse to feel so deeply for someone but she wouldn’t trade that for the world. All her hardships, all her struggles, and all her sufferings led her here. Now she could confidently say her reality was better than her dreams.

“I was afraid you would think I was, or am, in over my head.” He believed in her and her want, no, her need to succeed. He believed in her and wanted to be there with her every step of the way. “I want it, Clay.” She released his hand once more to wipe her face, pulling herself up so she was closer to his eyes, caressing him. “I want change and not because someone told me this is what needs to be done. Not because it’s what I’m supposed to do. Not because someone ripped my dreams away from me and forced my hand. I want this, for me. I want to be something more, and I won’t get that if I don’t go for it.” Subconsciously, she reverted back to a bad habit and apologized for speaking her truth, “I’m sorry. I know this a lot. I’ve had too much on my mind lately.”

“Well then it’s a good thing you have me to talk to isn’t it?” Clay responded with a light kiss on Cat’s forehead. This was all news to him but that was ok, she was entitled to her secrets and her musings as long as they weren’t harmful. Wanting and needing to protect and serve was definitely not harmful nor was it hurting. He placed his hand on her warm, tear stained cheek and looked deep into his Kitty’s pretty hazel eyes. “You’re not alone Cat, not any more.” Clayton brushed her cheek with his thumb. “I love you and that will never change.”

Her gentle and wounded soul flowered on her cheeks, like pink perfection. He was able to say he loved her so casually and so openly. She wanted to know what he loved about her and why he chose her above all other women that ever did love him. She knew some of the reasons like her smoky voice or how she looked into his eyes. Even with her knowing he just did, she liked hearing it. She liked being reassured that his love was her’s and no one else’s. She liked hearing his voice and how much he wanted her. She liked feeling wanted and not just any kind of want. She liked how insatiably hungry he was for her company and how beautiful she was in his eyes.

Today she felt the fear of not being able to touch him. The fear of not having a chance to hear his voice say those three words to her ever again. The fear of him dying. She didn’t realize at the time, when they were dancing at the Afterlife, in sync and the spotlight shining, how her world would never be the same. Not only did she surrender herself to the music but it was in that dance she saw the rest of her life with one man. She surrendered herself to their song. There was no doubt she was scared to walk out of this hospital without him understanding that the feelings were mutual. There was no doubt that she struggled saying such a simple phrase because whenever she did someone would always blow out her flame. There was no doubt he made her feel unbelievably raw and surreal that she could barely keep it together when he held her and told her he would never let her go. There was no doubt she was his and perhaps, she was always his and they just needed to wait for their time.

Dancing really was emotion through bodily movement and he sent her through a journey of how he’s waited so long for her and would wait forever if she didn’t mind. If she could spend the rest of her life dancing in the kitchen with him, she’d say she finally got the one thing she desired the most and that was for someone to spend this lonely existence with that would unconditionally love her, more so than her children did. A man that wanted her but more importantly? A man that was ready for her and all the pieces that came with her. The good, the bad, the ugly. Clay wanted it all.

Cupping his face, she smiled with her eyes, leaned forward and gave him an Eskimo kiss, brushing her nose against his. She held him close to her and fixed her gaze, locking her attention on him. Breathlessly, she whispered, “I love you too.”

Did she really just say what he thought she said? Did Caterina Belmonte, darling, sweetheart, love of his life finally say the words he had been desperately hoping to hear since he was twelve? Clay pulled her into his embrace and a strong passionate kiss. All the pain in his body melted away like ice, the fires of love taking over his entire being. He wanted to hear her say it again and again and he hoped that he would, for the rest of their lives together, if she’d have him for that long.

Clay didn’t want the kiss to end but he knew they’d both need air eventually, not that it mattered because he could now die quite happy in the knowledge that his Kitty felt the same for him as he did for her. Twelve years of longing, aching of a hunger for her and her love that he could not satiate had finally come to its climax. “I love you.” He whispered into her lips. “I hope you locked the door.”

She didn’t but he didn’t need to know that. If they got caught, that was one way for them to be found out but she felt like Mrs. Wednesday Drake-Davies could sense the hormones in the air. Cat wasn’t too worried. Women had great intuition, after all. Instead of answering him, she pressed her lips against his again but only for a lingering moment. Running her hand through his hair, she beamed brightly and repeated, this time with more vigor and not in a whisper, “I love you, Clayton Costigan.” She said it again. She finally said it and she wouldn’t stop saying it. For once she was choosing something, someone for herself and no one else. She was choosing Clay. In the morning, during the day, and at night she would choose him. Time and time again. She would choose him.

Hearing the words again was all he needed to hear for the rest of his life. Clay rolled over and shifted his weight onto her. He couldn’t stop kissing her now. He was going to kiss her until the day he died. He slipped his tongue into Cat’s mouth and reached down to unbutton those tight fitting jeans that made her ass look incredible. Every ache in his body had been transformed from one of pain to one of desire, a delirious desire for them to be together. He hurried to strip off her lower half and climbed fully atop. Clayton covered their bodies with the thin white sheet as he grabbed a handful of her silky hair. “Cat…” He paused, staring into hazel dreamscapes and caressing her lips. “It’s you. It’s always been you.”

His words. His eyes. His love.

Cat wanted to savor it all. Burning for him, surrendering all of her — body, heart, and soul — to him, she gripped his hair and held onto his neck. Pulling his bottom lip with her teeth, she smirked and whispered in return, “Never let me go.”

They kissed again and she gasped into his mouth as he came closer, breaking all distance, no wall needing to be scaled. There was no end and no beginning. They were together, sinking to deep places, exploring every corner of each other’s body. Expressing all the love they shared in their hearts. Intense and wild, full of desire. The kind of love that takes your breath away. When they kissed, it was like drinking salted water. It only made them want more.

She wanted more.

Clay finally got everything he ever wanted.

With the windows down and Tame Impala’s “The Boat I Row” blaring from the speakers of her Santa Fe, Lexie drove down the hometown roads that led to the west side of town. After the events of the previous night and driving Clay and Niles to their respective destinations, the brunette was more than ready to return home for a full day of rest and relaxation. She could already picture how she wanted the rest of her day to go: sleeping in until the afternoon, a walk around the neighborhood to get some sunshine, a relaxing bubble bath with a blunt in her head and a scented candle filling the room with the smell of eucalyptus a generous amount of Japanese food being delivered to her door, and an evening spent underneath a warm blanket catching up with her favorite series. But as was often the case in Edenridge, things never went the way you expected them to. By the time Alexandria pulled up into the driveway of her small house, she noticed the familiar figure of a petite, pixie-haired, bleach blonde female sitting on the front steps. She had barely taken her seat belt off and stepped out of the vehicle when the girl’s short frame collided with hers, pinning her against the car in a tight hug.

What she lacked in size, Adelaide Davies-Drake more than made up for in raw energy. With her arms wrapped around Lexie, the blonde girl lifted up her counterpart off the ground for a moment before placing her seated on the hood of her car. Addie took only the smallest step back when she finally released her cousin, giving her the modem of personal space before placing her hands on Alexandria’s knees. “F.M.A, you sexy fucking bitch.” She looked over the brunette for a few seconds longer. “I swear you get prettier every time you leave and come back again, like it’s not even funny. Stupid, sexy, fucking Davies genes.”

Addie plucked one of several blunts from the front pocket of her leather jacket and placed it between her thick painted lips. She lit the roll up before placing her hands on her cousin's tanned face. Lexie had been Addie’s closest confidant their entire lives. They were only a year apart and were raised together. The two women were not related by blood, with Adelaide’s mother having been adopted into the Davies family as a child and raised as a sister to Alexandria’s father but as far as they were concerned, they were cousins, hell they might well have been sisters. Their bond was deep, meaningful and oh so unpredictable.

“Now where the fuck you been? Keeping me waiting like that? You know what, don’t even answer. I don’t care. I missed you.”

"You are so dramatic!" Lexie laughed and shook her head, playfully pushing Addie away by the head. Even though she and Allison shared that close sister bond until Lex was about twelve years old, her bond with Addie had withstood the test of time. If there was anyone in the world who had the ability to cheer her up and who hyped her like nobody else did, it was her cousin. Of course they argued and disagreed sometimes just like everyone else, but in the end they knew they always had each other's backs. "I was gone for, like, maybe 20 minutes. And you didn't text me you were waiting, either! I would've stepped on it if I'd known you were waiting." She told her, plucking the blunt from the other girl's lips and taking a drag. After the scare of the night before, the smoke was very much welcome.

“Well bitch I lost my phone.” Addie shrugged as she moved far enough back to allow Lexie to get off of the car. “I don’t know whose house it’s at so I’m just gonna bed hop until I find it again.” To look at the two women was looking at two very different entities. Lexie was a traditional beauty: tanned, heartbreaker eyes, an hourglass figure dressed for the summer heat that stopped men dead. Addie was the opposite: pale, with ocean blues and wearing a heavy leather jacket over a black and white striped t-shirt, a denim skirt and fishnets. “I think it’s at Verity’s-- or maybe Emerald's? Then again I was tongue deep in Devi last night…” She trailed off before snatching back the joint from her better half and bringing it back to her lips.

Alexandria chuckled and shook her heac. One thing she had always admired about Adelaide was her ability to be unapologetically herself without giving a damn about what anyone else thought. It was something that Lex had only been able to achieve in the city, but never to the extent of her cousin. That kind of bravery to live life on her own terms was something the brunette was still trying to find within herself.

"Making your usual rounds around town, weren't you?" She teased her younger cousin with a playful wink. To anyone else, that comment would probably come across like a sneak diss or an insult. When directed at Addie, it was meant to be flattering. She had always been the family's most sought after, desired member-- even more than Allison, and that was saying a lot. Lex couldn't even begin to compare, but she was more than happy to support her cousin in all of her wild endeavors.

“Well if you must know, cousin dearest, I’m officially taken.” Addie spoke in her best impression of a southern belle, which was awful. “Ok so not so much taken as, so I’m currently seeing…” With the blunt between her fingers the grungy blonde countered her fingertips. “…six people as part of…the fuck was it they called it again? A sextet? Anyway so yeah I’m sort of dating all these people but I’m allowed to go out and get girls whenever I want. Like it’s such a good fucking idea.” Spinning on the heel of her Doc Martens combat boots, Adelaide hopped up the stairs of Lexie’s porch and stopped in a star jump in front of the door. “Let’s go inside and get a drink ‘cos I’ve got something for you.” She said in a sing-song whilst shaking her butt.

"Six people? At the same time?" Lexie inquired in curiosity and amusement as she made her way to the house, unlocked the front door, stepped inside, closed it, and opened the living room window for Addie to climb in. The way her cousin was describing this arrangement made it seem like the perfect fit for her free-spirited lifestyle. On Lex's end, she couldn't even fathom the idea of six people being attracted to her at all, let alone at the same time. But for Addie? That was a mere sample portion of the pool of individuals lusting after her. She was surprised she’d settled in the first place-- no matter how unconventional it was.

“Yeet!” Addie dove through the open window with little regard for her own well being but luckily landed on a soft beanbag. She had always hated doors. She remembered once someone telling her that evil made its way through open doors to steal into the lives of the living. That was probably why she rarely if ever used them. Why use a door when a perfectly good window would suffice? Adelaide jumped back up to her feet, joint still hanging from her painted lips. “Six is barely anything. There’s fourteen billion people in the world, why in the blue fuck am I limiting myself to one kitten?”

Kicking off her shoes, the manic pixie made her way into Lex’s kitchen and jumped cross legged onto the dining table. “HOWEVER!” She clapped her hands loudly. “What works for me doesn’t always work for you. Now, do you remember the last conversation we had….actually I don’t think it was that conversation….point is! We had a conversation where you were lamenting your lack of suitable dicks-- sorry, I mean 'dates'?” She used air quotes over the word dates. “I believe we were in the pool at your mom's house, my lovely Alexandria.”

A grimace and a sheepish expression immediately settled on Lexie's face. During the sleepover they'd had after the family's Fourth of July party, a drunk Alexandria had gone into a passionate rant about how pathetic her dating life was, how she felt like the least interesting one of all the females in her family, how there was no guy in their right mind who would ever be attracted to her lame self, and about how long it had been since she'd gotten properly screwed by someone who was truly attracted to her and who genuinely cared about her. When she'd woken up the next day, she'd thought she'd imagined the whole thing-- a drunken dream of sorts. These were things she wouldn't proclaim so bluntly and loudly like that, much less to a captive audience. Addie bringing the topic up meant that she had indeed said all of those things aloud, and that her wayward cousin had seen it as an opportunity to do something she had always wanted but was never allowed to do: play matchmaker.

"I was drunk that night, Addie. Take anything I said with a grain of salt, or just forget I even said it at all!" Lexie chuckled, settling down beside her on the small dining table.

“Nah, who wants salt when you can add chili flakes? And girl I’ve added ghost peppers.” Sucking her blunt between her teeth, Addie began to scramble around her leather jacket, hands checking every pocket until she became frustrated and just took it off and threw it on the floor. As she did, her phone fell out and she swiftly scooped it up. “Ah-ha! Victory!” She exclaimed, holding her iPhone like a trophy. “Here’s the deal. I’m gonna air drop you a restaurant and a time. You have a date tonight: a good one, too, if I do say so myself. I’ve also already pre-paid for everything so you cannot not go or I'll whoop your tight, perky little ass.” Adelaide quickly tapped her phone a few times to send Lexie the details. “You’re gonna go, have a great time with a dashing tall drink of water and probably get your fantasies fulfilled with something fierce. Rough and hard, just like you like.” Leaning back in her chair, the blonde girl offered her joint to her cousin. “How much do you love me?”

Alexandria's jaw dropped in shock. "A date. Tonight." she repeated, hoping that voicing it around might help her make sense of the whole thing. Addie pulling a stunt like this wasn't exactly surprising. She'd wanted to set Lexie up with someone for years now, but the older cousin had always politely declined the offer for one reason or another. It was the short notice and how unexpected everything was that had the brunette's nerves suddenly going into overdrive. "You're telling me that you set me up for a date tonight, and you're just telling me now?!" Lexie playfully whined, gently pushing her cousin's shoulder away in fake displeasure.

She wasn't upset in the slightest about this unforeseen twist of fate. Considering how questionably things were going at the moment, this date might be something to restore her fading faith in her decision to return to Edenridge. As her initial shock began to wear off and she processed the news in her head, a very pressing, important question came to mind. "Hold on-- who is this date even with?"

“That’s the beauty of a blind date, sexy Lexie, I-don’t-have-to-tell-you.” Addie preceded every word with a small golf clap. “You have terrible taste in men. There was Sonny, there was Mika, that guy from Maritime school or whatever, Johnny? Jonno? Jonty? Either way, he wasn’t important enough for me to remember his name so he can just get in the bin.” Adelaide leapt up to her feet and discarded the last of the joint she had shared with Alexandria.

Lexie wasn’t one to shy away from taking the blame for her questionable choices. Getting involved with Sonny Cerniz had been a decision rooted in a need for rebellion and comfort. He’d arrived in her life at a time in which her sister’s passing and her parents’ increasing overbearingness had left her feeling vulnerable and misunderstood. She’d been seeking solace from her sorrows, and she’d found it in his arms. The way things abruptly ended after Lex was shipped away hadn’t been his fault.

Mikhail Zima… That mistake did warrant Addie’s description of ‘terrible taste in men’. After a short-lived crush during high school, Lexie had gotten the chance to fulfill her fantasies of hooking up with him during her Christmas holiday week spent in Edenridge. The act itself had been fantastic, but the nasty attitude he gave her afterwards had put her off in such a way that she’d blocked him from all of her socials and swore to never speak to him again. While sleeping with him had been her choice, his rude behavior had definitely not been her fault.

And although Addie had dismissed him with ease, meeting Jonah Bradford at maritime school and falling in love with him had been an integral part of Lexie’s journey to becoming the woman she was today. He’d been her best friend, her rock and one of her biggest supporters during her healing process throughout their healthy, loving relationship. The decision to part ways, albeit painful for the both of them, had been mutual. They knew that, in order to thrive and reach their dreams, they needed to set each other free. They continue to be friends to this day, sharing weekly calls to stay updated about life’s happenings, share their victories and cheer each other up after any setbacks. This was one guy she'd defend.

“Hey! What happened with Sonny wasn’t on him. And Jonah was actually a really sweet guy! It’s not my fault he decided to stay in the military and get shipped off all the way out to Japan!” Lexie argued, sliding off from the table and following Adelaide around the house.

”Well he’s probably deep in some little anime bitch, so you dodged a bullet.”

The pint sized blonde had a reputation for wildness, so much so in fact that many disregarded the notion that there were brains behind her beauty. Addie was a straight A student, currently top of her class at college studying Botany and highly perceptive of the human condition. She had always been the one to pick up Lexie’s pieces when she was cast off in the shadow of her sister. Addie loved Allison, they were cousins raised together but she knew how tough it was for Lex to constantly be compared. She was rarely matched with her own sister Dallas because she and Dally were always different people, no one ever tried to paint them with the same brush. Lexie and Allie weren’t so lucky.

Adelaide pressed a big kiss to her cousin's tanned cheek. “Trust ol’ Addie, have I ever steered you wrong?” She slid over to the open window from which she first entered the house and turned to look at Lex once more. “Wear something a little slutty, a little slinky. Your body is looking very bodacious right now. You've deffo been in the gym. Show that shit off. You and your future fuck buddy, boyfriend, or whatever the shit you wanna call him will thank me later.”

“Alright, I will.” Lexie answered in between giggles, rolling her eyes and shaking her head in amusement. Growing up, there were plenty of times in which Addie's antics and impulsive ideas had gotten both girls in a sea of trouble with their parents. The one common factor is that, all those times, Lex could never deny how much fun she'd had. As crazy as some people labeled Addie to be, Lexie trusted her with her life. She knew the blonde only wanted to see her happy, and would never do anything to hurt her.

Adelaide dramatically saluted her cousin. “Go. Have fun. Insta me with all the gory details later. Length. Girth. Fave position. The full Monty.” Pressing her hand to her lips, the manic grunge pixie blew Alexandria a big kiss. “Love you, Lex. Now I gotta go see a girl about a cat and by that I obviously mean I’m gonna go eat some. Top girl, out!” She clambered back out of the window she had entered through, catching a foot and nearly going face first into the ground as she did.

After a few moments had passed and Lex had just shut the window her cousin had left from, the front door of the house opened and Addie stepped back in. Dragging her feet like a stroppy child, she breezed by her bewildered cousin and leaned down by the table, picking up her black boots. ”Forgot my shoes.” She turned, brushing the chuckling Lex’s hair as she drifted by before locking and closing the door behind her once more.

Silence.

Deathly silence.

The Aviles house was usually quiet in the morning because most if not all of the family members were nighthawks. Unfortunately to merge with the malcontents of society, they had to rise from their slumbers and greet the day as if it was their old friend, death, and they must do so warmly and with open arms.

Raven stood barefoot in her beloved garden, her body drenched in the low hanging black frock that hugged every contour of her amazing body. She was pushing fifty years old but the dark goddess had figured her with an almost ageless beauty that she shared with all of her family. Through the Earth and into her heels and toes she could feel Mother Nature feeding her, nourishing her. Beneath the dirt, her long since passed family members fertilised the land and gave their souls to its roots to feed the future. The warm post storm sunlight bounced off of her porcelain skin as she leaned down to sun her fingers through the mud. “Good morning, Bianca. I hope you slept well.” Raven spoke softly in a whisper as she greeted her fallen first born. “Time to wake the family.”

Gliding through the desecrated halls of the house her Tito built; Raven caressed the walls ever so lovingly. When they had first arrived in Eden, the early Aviles picked out a spot on Hickory Lane, once the scene of a famous and bloody revolutionary battle, to build their familial home. The first house was small but with each new member arriving from across the border, a new section was added to the house. Tito wanted everyone to have their own room, their own space and of course, the confusing layout would discombobulate any harmful entities. Each room she passed, Raven softly stroked the nameplate on the door for the relative that once called it theirs. Every room in the Aviles house told a story, some good, some bad, all worth hearing.

She reached the end of the north hallway and to the room belonging to her now oldest daughter, Sabrina. She rapped on the door three times before calling out. “Sabrina my nightshade, yet another day has come. Time to rise.”

On the other side of the door, a muffled groan could be heard, managing to eek its way out from under the black sheets that sat atop the mattress. A rumpled mess of black hair could be seen as well, surrounding skin that had paled from consistent deprivation of sunlight but still carried the color of her ancestors. Her face had yet to be put together, given she had just awoken from slumber, but the darkness that surrounded her eyes didn’t need much help being accentuated. As she stared at the alarm clock, then the dark blackout curtains that prevented the light from entering in and disturbing her shadowy sanctuary, she confirmed that everything was as she had left it when she went to sleep. No demons had visited. No spirits had ruffled anything up. Not even a wandering wraith perched upon her dresser. ”I’m up, Mother!”

The woman sighs. “Another day, huh?” Sabrina Aviles hoisted herself out of the shell of the blankets and sat up in bed. “Guess I’ll deal with it then.”

The eldest living member of the latest generation of Aviles roamed around her bedroom putting together her outfit for the day. It wasn’t hard to be dressed for work, but it did mean that she couldn’t wear some of her preferred outfits. Cops generally didn’t like it when you outwardly displayed your beliefs that most of what they were doing was meaningless. Instead, it meant she had to slip it into her usual conversations with the people she dealt with.

Still, there was one conversation on her mind more than any other. As Sabrina went to her bed stand to grab her phone, she could see the usual people popping up. Her sister. Her brother. Mei. Lamb. Avery. But the one she wanted was the one that was missing from the updated list.

“Where the fuck are you, doofus? It’s been days. I can’t keep covering for you forever. Muttering under her breath was common for Sabrina, but usually Clay Costigan was in person to earn such contempt. As of now, he still hadn’t sent her any response to her last batch of texts.

It was an odd friendship, one that didn’t make sense on the surface. One of the most popular jocks in all of Edenridge and the queen of the goths, drafted onto the cheerleading squad for some reason that even she never fully understood.. Maybe Allison wanted more raven-haired representatives on the squad. Maybe she thought having an Aviles would mean that bad luck would be warded off. Not that it did Allison any good in the end. Still, there was only one jock that she could usually stand to hang around with at parties, and it was the one who seemed to know that at the end of the day, he was playing a game, and it wouldn’t be the be-all, end-all of life as he knew it. There was a simplicity to Clay that Sabrina appreciated, and definitely had feelings for. She was a woman after all, even if her leanings didn’t tend to include male romances. Clay was the exception, and although it ultimately proved it wouldn’t work out, their friendship remained strong. When Auntie Marina and Clay came together to help her get the job at the police station in the first place, it seemed like the perfect way to get some money together and start moving on with her life.

Yet her mother was still waking her up in the morning. The tendrils of this family truly were permanently wrapped around her.

Dressed enough to curse, in a zip-up hoodie and black-striped leggings, she finally moved towards the door. Breakfast would likely be provided, and you couldn’t conjure the dark powers on an empty stomach. Sabrina zombie shuffled down the hallway and the heart of the mansion. No matter how many branches grew from the place, the central points were always the kitchen, the dining room, the rec room. The places where the family could come together, discuss their days and have deep conversations about whatever macabre topics came to mind. It kept things tight, even as Uncle Felix seemed determined to spread the seeds of the family far across the state. Everything still came back to the manor. In life and in death.

”Better be some toaster strudels left or I’m going to drown Lucien in the bathtub.”

“We tried that already, remember? Mother Death just sent him back.” Emerging from her own room just as Sabrina walked by, Samara ruffled her long dark hair with the blonde streak and yawned. She could still smell last night's booze on her skin but she didn’t really care. All of her flights out of town had been grounded because of the storm, so she was stuck in Eden for at least another few days. Sam didn’t mind being home with her family at the house but she certainly preferred being in any number of exotic locations that her job allowed her to go.

Unlike Sabrina, the younger Aviles girl was not dressed to see what the morning would gift her. Wearing only a black Motörhead tank to cover her modesty along with her black underwear, she followed her older sister into their kitchen where no doubt their father had cooked up some monstrous delight to give them sustenance and their brother would lie in wait to cause no shortage of aggravation.

“Well you two look like shit.” Lucien teased his sisters as they entered the kitchen. He was already fully dressed in his leather jacket and black jeans but that was because unlike his siblings, he had only just gotten off duty. On his pale white skin, remnants of smoke and soot were still visible. He had been on call with the fire department during the storm to help out where needed. As he took a sip from his “Best Big Brother” mug, he had a smug grin crossing his face. “I ate the last toaster strudel by the way, so you two are on Father’s breakfast today.”

This was not the news that Sabrina needed. She was already on edge with Clay recently failing to keep her informed about his whereabouts. The thought of indulging her father in one of his culinary catastrophes was not something she wanted to dwell on. It didn’t help that Lucien was the owner of one of the most punchable faces in Edenridge, and he combined that with a voice that could make the news of drought-ending rain sound unappealing as hailing brimstones. Not that he would be upset to deliver the news of fire from above either. Sometimes she debated whether her brother would continue to fight fires or join forces with them. Right now she would aid the fires for his brazen flaunting of his eating habits.

“Even if we look like shit, we still look better than you,” Sabrina dryly remarked as she moved behind her brother. In one fell swoop, she raised her palm up and cuffed him upside the head. A little bit of Auntie Marina’s violent streak lived in her after all, and Lucien was her usual target as had been since they were children. Of course, her usual methods were a little more elaborate than just a smack in the cabeza, but she was tired. And now there was no strudel. A slap would have to do. “Or did Ronan show you up again for all the glory out there? For a volunteer, he sure does a better job than you do.” She sat at the table, debating whether or not to try and stomach whatever it was that could be smelled and dealt with from the kitchen, or to make a break for it and grab a breakfast sandwich on the way to work.

“Children enough!”

Dorian Aviles entered the kitchen, already immaculately dressed in a fine Italian suit and with all the authority in the world. He was a regal-looking man who had gone grey gracefully and very obviously only took care of himself. Whether that was through training or dark magic had yet to be fully revealed. The patriarch of the Aviles coven raised his hand in the air to silence his three offspring. “We do not wage war at the breakfast table.” Making his way to the focal point of the action, Dorian leaned down and dropped a kiss on both of his daughters heads and a shoulder pat for his son. “And you all know that I do not repeat myself.”

“Go gentle, my beloved, it’s just what siblings do.” Raven followed her husband into the dining area. Gliding over to the man that has held her heart in his hands from the moment they met, she wrapped up his handsome face in her hands and kissed him deeply. As she moaned into Dorian's lips, Raven couldn’t help but feel a modicum of sadness. It was in these moments of happiness, with her husband and her children that she thought back to the child she lost and how she should be sitting in the empty seat at the table. Bianca’s seat always remained empty.

After breaking the kiss, Raven began to glide across the room until she found herself sitting in her place at the table. As her husband started to plate up the breakfast that he had lovingly prepared, the gothic goddess rested her painted hands on the counter top and leaned back in her chair to get a good look at her three children. “What are your plans today? Anything exciting?”

Sabrina rolled her eyes at the display of affection from her parents. If her father had been tasting whatever he prepared this morning, her mother’s lips were now likely as toxic as some of the nightshade plants she was growing in the garden. “Well, I plan on continuing to slowly die, preferably in the darkness. I’ll be plotting my revenge on Lucien for stealing the last strudel. And then, I don’t know. Work, I guess.” She sighs. “Still trying to figure out where Clay has been the last couple of days. He’s a goof, but he’s usually not the type to blow off his job.”

Raven looked deeply at the face of her eldest living child. To the untrained eye it was as morbid and as uncaring as always, but to her mother? She could see that Sabrina was hurt and confused. The young woman had always been deeply fond of her friend Clayton. The foppish basketball player had spent many nights over the years at the Aviles house and for a time, Raven truly believed that her daughter had found her person. Mother Nature works in mysterious ways and Clay seemed to be one of those ways. He brought something out in Sabrina that Raven didn’t even think existed; joy.

Reaching over, the matriarch of the strange family on the hill slithered her fingers over her daughter's arm and wrapped them around her like a mother snake, for comfort. She would not speak more on it, Sabrina would tell her when she was ready. Her bare obsidian gaze drifted and then fell upon her youngest child, Samara, a bewitching beauty, with her alabaster skin accentuated by near dark eyes as close to the black of night as possible. It was never really a surprise that she chose to follow the teachings of the succubi. “And what of you, child?”

Sam had a mouthful of alligator bacon when her mother began to question her. She really wasn’t in the mood. With a strip hanging from her still red lips from the previous evening, Samara pulled down the hem of her shirt to cover her bare legs slightly. The mansion was cold at the best of times but today there was definitely something more than just wind chill in the air. She could sense something being carried on the breeze, a darkness. Something big was happening that day. “I’m still grounded.” Sam spoke, her mouth full. “No flights for another two days so I’m probably gonna spend the day at Beau’s reading and then go get fucked and fucked up later.”

"I'll snipe Luci by saying you were already fucked up," Sabrina dryly commented, giving her brother a glare since she could not go at him with words. "But keep me posted on getting there later. I may join you. It feels like the only thing I can do right now after work." Her thought process was interrupted by a buzz on her phone. She thought about looking at it for a second, but if it was Rocky giving her crap about another of her spider colonies at the station, she didn't want to see it. "I feel like we haven't embraced the darkness together in a long time, Sam. So if you can't find someone to fill the emptiness within, let me know."

”Honestly, sometimes I don’t know why I bother.” Lucien polished off the contents of his mug before getting up from the breakfast table. It was true that the only Aviles son enjoyed toying with his sisters and getting under their skin. In some ways he was the black sheep, never really pushing the envelope of his magic like his two sisters. Luci enjoyed being a regular member of society and releasing his power only in short bursts. He understood that keeping his Hellfire under wraps was easier than trying to explain it to a bunch of white picket fence Nepo babies.

After tossing his mug into the sink, Lucien let out a great big yawn. His day was over and he had to try and get some sleep before his shift at the fire station later that day. “It’s Clay by the way.” He pointed to his sister's phone as he breezed by towards the hallway. ”That text is from his hairiness. You might wanna respond.” His last words faded as he rounded the corner and travelled deeper into the Aviles compound.

"WHAT?!?" Sabrina shouted as she dove for the phone. She knew Lucien wasn’t a technomancer or anything, but a quick glance indeed confirmed it was the Costigan boy. "I have to take this, excuse me." She rose from the table and headed into the living room, intent on getting the story on why she hadn't heard from him.

“I never liked that boy.” Dorian had finally sat down at the head of the table, though what was supposed to be a full family breakfast was down to one child now, two if he counted their beautifully departed child, Bianca whose spirit he always felt lingering around them. “Too much power over her.” He sliced into his ostrich egg and watched the golden yolk spill out across his plate like blood from a deep wound, it was a satisfying cut. Reaching for a triangle of fresh toast, the silver haired Dorian glanced over at his wife, who in her breathtaking visage was offering him the coldest of looks. “I’m sorry, dear.”

Samara looked at her parents as the cold atmosphere soon gave way to adoring smiles and stolen moments. It was amazing how they could argue or disagree and then instantly revert back to their lovey-dovey selves without even uttering a single word. Truly it baffles one’s mind. “I might go over to Karina’s, see if she’s free today, maybe borrow her Grimoire since I left my last one in Düsseldorf.”

“A day with your cousin would be lovely.” Raven stretched her arm over the table to her young daughter and stroked the blonde strand in her hair. “We’ll get you a new grimoire today. Just try not to lose this one, ok? They have such powerful magic locked within their pages. A normal person could cause so much trouble.”

Meanwhile, the black-haired woman paced as quickly as she could to a semi-private place. It was about time he finally got back to her. Sabrina hadn't checked in with his other platonic woman best friend since yesterday, but she had to assume Avery was breathing a similar sigh of relief. To say nothing of his twin sister. She sat down on the ornate black leather couch that dominated the attention of the common area and quickly scrolled to the new message.

From Clay (Doofus):
Hey Sabby, didn’t mean to go MIA. Dealing with this latest letter business got me in a bit of trouble. I’m at Sinclair Health now. I’m fine! Don’t panic, like you ever panic, knowing I’m hurt is probably giving you an orgasm. But yeah, I’m fine! Mostly superficial. If you could put me on a cheeky holiday day though? So I still get paid? Love you Witch x

Even in a text message, Clay always had a way of sounding like Clay. It’s like she could practically hear the wink in the tone. Of course he would get into trouble over the stupid letters. It was Clay. It was what he did. Ever since high school, he would charge in wherever something nefarious was happening and do his best to fix whatever was the problem. Maybe that’s why the first time he showed up when Sabrina was cursing someone in the middle school cafeteria, she blew him off, but the fifth time he caught her trying to summon a plague of frogs to land on that snooping Emily Carano’s head and instead tried to convince her to leave Emily alone, she started wondering why he would even bother engaging with someone who had death wrapped around her body like a feathered boa. But she soon caved to his persistence and charm. He had a way of growing on people like that. It was endearing.

But of course, he was also still a doofus, and chasing after this letter business was exactly the sort of thing a dumb person would go after. In Sabrina’s mind, the person behind the letters was solely looking to cause misery and chaos. That was supposed to be her job, and she did it in a far more ethical way than this person was doing it. Besides, the recent posts going after the deceased David O’Hara brought up some nasty thoughts that paralyzed her from joining Clay in the hunt for the person responsible.

First, Sabrina remembered back when David turned up dead and drowned. Her mother and father were part of the party delivering their condolences to the O’Haras, given the positions they had in the community. Her aunt was part of the crew that recovered the body and processed the area. Her uncle was the one who confirmed David died from drowning and not from alcohol poisoning. The Aviles family were used to death, but Clay was not. Seeing him and Lamb torn up about David confirmed that she had to be the one to handle the tragedies in their group. Sabrina was the only one who could truly embrace the absence of life given the role death played in her family history.

But there was another aspect of David’s passing that troubled her. It was rumored that David was having an affair with one of the frosh at Edenridge High, and that revelation was what drove him to drink and to his bitter end. Sure, the community had made its judgement, but the O’Hara boy was far from the only upper class member to dip into the younger pool. He was just the one who got outed, and got shamed.

Maybe Sabrina was just luckier when it came to keeping her own dip under cover.

After it became clear that Clay was always going to be a lovable doofus, but never the love of her life, for multiple reasons, she followed the ideals of her friend Avery and decided to lean into her lesbian tendencies. But there weren’t many seniors that not only shared her views on life in Edenridge, but also were interested in exploring that side of their sexuality.

There was a frosh though. And after a couple months, loneliness can overtake even the darkest of hearts. It was consensual, but given what happened with David, Sabrina never spoke a word about it. Neither did her partner. It didn’t last for very long. By the time Sabrina graduated, the young woman also started experimenting with a boy. Sabrina knew because she was told about it, a boy that also met an early demise in this violent village. And now that woman seemed to be in a very loving relationship with another girl. A girl who also has known the personal touch of death far too often and if she looked at the clues, might have easily figured out just how close things were five years ago between the mentor and the mentee. But if she hadn’t connected the dots then, she definitely wouldn’t remember anything due to the Olympic swimming pool of alcohol Sabrina saw her imbibing in some of the pictures she got from in texts from her own sordid shame.

She was reminded even before she opened Clay’s text. Mei Ramsey had texted about a trip to Afterlife with Allison 2.0 herself, Jill O’Brien, and Sabrina had to turn her down. The offer was still on the list of most recent texts when Clay’s message was front and center.

All Sabrina could do was sigh. ”Clay, you damn idiot…” Also, she was offended by the notion that the mere thought that he was in pain would make her orgasm. She finally started to compose a long awaited message back.

To Clay (Doofus):
For your information, I only cum if I’m the one causing you pain. Not if you have Satan-only-knows kinds of damage inflicted on you for three days. But I’m glad you’re still among the land of the living. You know I have you covered. You want me to stop by on my way to work? I can bring you some not-terrible non-Sinclair food and tell you the boring stuff you missed at the station. Spoiler warning: it was nothing. Because of the storm.

The text was starting to get long, especially for Sabrina, but this is what Clay deserved for making her actually worry for the first time in forever. Almost two years, actually, when she heard Mei was a victim of Charlie Decker and was headed into surgery.

Next time, don’t go off by yourself. If I’m not going to get to cause the pain, I at least want to see it. This is like that time you fell trying to dunk and snapped your arm all over again. You can pay me back with lunch to catch me up when you’re better. …I’m glad you’re OK, Doofus.

A black heart ended the second and final text and another heavier sigh escaped Sabrina’s lips as she leaned back on the couch. Clay was no longer in a quantum state of dead or undead, as much as her father would be disappointed. But that confirmation alone would make her father’s breakfast so much more palatable. Of course, why do that when she now had an easy out?

Sabrina returned to the kitchen. “Mother, Father, Samara, I must depart. Clayton requires sustenance that he can not get at his recovery facility, and I am the only one who can give it to him. After I hold it hostage as punishment for two days of non-communication, of course.”

The patriarch of the Aviles gazed up at his eldest’s pale face, a flush of colour returned to make her cheeks near rosy. That was what that boy did to her, he brought out something warm, something damn near positive. All he wanted was Sabrina to be happy and if the Costigan boy did that, then he would allow it, if it’s what his darling wanted. It didn’t mean though he had to like it. “That’s not a euphemism for sex is it?” Dorian received a slap on his arm from his beloved wife for his trouble.

“TOTALLY IS!” Lucien’s voice called out from down the dark manor hall. “SABBY LOVES HIM. SHE WANTS TO MARRY HIM!” The firefighter bellowed in sing-song, the echoes bouncing off of the old palatial walls.

Sabrina very nearly abandoned her plan of altruism and committed to a day of torturing Lucien so he would feel no sleep right then and there. The only remedy for the mental pain that made Lucien try to interrupt her plans was certainly a healthy dose of physical pain. However, she didn't have to.

“Excuse me a minute.” Samara got up to her feet, not caring to flatten the shirt that was barely covering her modesty as she charged into the dark of the hall. The silence she left behind was broken by the yells of her brother and the sound of blunt impact and crashing debris. After a minute or so of chaos, there was silence once again and Sam emerged from the infinite black now dressed in a black skater skirt, her doc martens and an off the shoulder black and white cardigan. She placed her long fingers on her older sister's shoulder and motioned with her head. “I’ll give you a lift, I’m going to meet Karina anyway.”

At least there was one sibling who Sabrina could usually count on for support instead of mockery. And for wardrobe borrowing when she did have the time to head to Afterlife and wanted to look like she could break a heart if she so desired. Not that there were many that had hearts worth breaking, but there were a couple hearts that she was happy she didn’t have to break for the moment. They may not have seen eye-to-eye as children, and sometimes even now, but the sisterly bond was still strong. Especially against Lucien.

”Thank you, Samara. I’ll be ready in two minutes. I’ll meet you at the car.”

As Sabrina moved as quick as a frenzied zombie towards her room, she did have a chance to think a little. Samara said she was going to meet up with Karina Berríos, their cousin and technically the oldest child remaining from this generation of Aviles thanks to her uncle’s inability to keep things wrapped up when he was younger. Her mother, Carmen, definitely had the looks to get whatever she wanted in her youth, so she couldn’t blame her uncle for that, but the fact that Karina wasn’t actually an Aviles was a thorn. Did that fact protect her from the curse of the first-born? Was the originator that much of a believer in matrimony? Sometimes it didn’t make sense why Bianca was the one that had to pay the price, but there were other times to think about that. Her mind was apparently racing all over the place with the news from Clay. There wasn’t a text back yet either, probably busy answering texts from others.

Sabrina added her own black skater skirt to the ensemble and slipped a dark black blouse under her hoodie in case Chief Broadus was demanding non-hoodlum clothing today. She shoved a couple of makeup options in her leather studded purse, content to just do her face properly at the station. There had to be something for her to do to kill the time. Content that she had everything she needed, she headed out to the garage and awaited her offered ride.

Sam dropped down the stairs and into the garage where her sister waited. Dark eyes fell upon her cherished all black Ford Thunderbird that sat there. The flight attendant had first caught sight of the beautiful car on one of her first trips working for the airlines. Her flight had settled in Utah for the evening, Salt Lake City to be precise and Samara was taking in the city as she had a few hours to kill. It was only when she got a little turned around and wound up in a residential neighbourhood that the dark princess saw her future, parked in a driveway, with a for sale sign. As soon as she was back in Eden, Sam dragged her twin brother back to Utah and bought the car, though she didn’t have a licence so Luci had to drive it cross country and had he dented it, she would’ve hung, drawn and quartered the little firestarter.

With her black and blonde tresses framing her face, Samara looked with a very mild smile curled upon her lips at Sabrina. She along with Lucien did love to tease her about going native. Of the three Aviles kids and their cousins, Sabby was the one who surprisingly had adjusted to living a somewhat normal life in Edenridge. Her friendships with the likes of the Costigan siblings and the girl from the comic book store solidified that. As doused in infinite black and death as the Aviles family were, it was nice to see Sabrina care for others. Sam remembered the odd times when the boy with the hair was hurt in the basketball court and how Sabby often went to his side. She remembered just how scared her big sister was when Charlie Decker shot up the school and that girl Mei was stretched out with a hole in her neck. The tears in Sabrina’s eyes were worth more than any word.

Grabbing a handful of white ash from the pot by the garage door, Samara tossed it across the threshold, freeing her vehicle to leave without being followed by spirits wishing to cause ill. “Where do you want me to drop you?” The younger Aviles priestess asked as she climbed into the car.

Sabrina hops into the Thunderbird and leans the seat back. She was a little uncomfortable getting a ride from Samara given how little she had been actually driving a car, but the black stallion was her baby. She was always careful with it and if Lucien even threatened a scratch, he was met with claws. It would be fine. “You can just take me to the Dunkin’ by the clinic. I’ll get Clay his usual order and bring it to him, and I’ll get a danish and curse that it’s not a strudel.” She lets out a breath she wasn’t aware she had been holding in. The chain coffee run was a sign of normalcy. Peace returning after the storm. “If you want to stick around, I’ll cover something for you as well. As thanks for being the far lesser of two evil siblings.”

”Don’t really wanna hang around and watch you give the hairy one the googly eyes if I’m honest, Sab.” Samara said as started up the car. She pressed the button to open the garage door and began to jank around with the old gear box. ”Besides.” As the engine roared into life, growling like some demented beast crawling out of the depths of hell, the wicked witch shot her older sister a dark, dangerous look. ”There's chaos in the air and I’m excited to harness it.”