Cameron held a tight grip on the steering wheel of his taxi cab and the other holding onto Jesse James Milligan’s thigh. Climbing the hill towards Scott Street, Hyde had to push down every iota of anger and rage that was burning within him like a forest wildfire. He hated Scott Street and the power that it held over this town. As the gates to a proclaimed utopia opened before him, the Devil’s cold blue eyes peered forward at its inhabitants as they wandered what he could’ve sworn were marble-paved driveways.. Each more spoiled and more detestable than the last.

Belmonte, Costigan, Grimm, Cortez. Every new house forced Cameron’s to grab a little tighter, a new vein pulsating with pure unadulterated fury, hidden beautifully behind his mask of sanity. Cameron’s gaze drifted to his passenger seat and the stunning strawberry blonde that sat in it, smiling to herself in a silent bask of what he could only assume was love. JJ had wanted him for years and in this moment of quiet bliss, she thought she had him. The truth was far less shiny, she didn’t have him, he had her, right where he wanted her. She was his.

They had intended to spend the morning out on Hyde’s boat, eating breakfast out on the water but it had swiftly become apparent that the only thing they really desired to eat was each other. Cameron had danced this dance before and he had learned. To make sure that his goals were attained with JJ, he had to give just as much as he took. That was fine, faking it was easy. He knew that in her mind, they had made love, it was more than just sex. Cameron knew better, it was always, any time, just sex. Love didn’t exist beyond a notion that balanced on the wall of delusion.

His hand slowly caressed up Blue’s arm until it reached the base and back of her neck, he held it there as his car rolled forward towards the cul-de-sac at the end of the damned street. He looked onwards towards a swaying figure walking ahead, hips dynamite in denim and flowing blonde locks. Any other time; Hyde would call her prey.

When Cameron's unique choice of vehicle’s pulled up in front of her driveway, JJ was almost sad that her time with him was coming to an end. She had been in such a state of bliss since last night. Spending it with him in his family’s business, on the boat, just enjoying food and having him all to herself, she couldn’t have been happier. All her life she had lusted after Cameron Hyde. For as long as she could remember, he alluded her for some reason or another. Whether it was her being with Angel, who wasn’t a bad person in the slightest. She was quite content with him for as long as they had been together, but her heart - a large part of it that she closed off from Angel - had always belonged to the man that drove the taxi cab.

And if she was being honest with herself? As much as she liked Angel. As much as Jessie James Milligan had liked all other men she thought could make up for the absence of him, nobody could ever measure up to how fast Cameron Hyde got her heart beating. The excitement of knowing she was his and he was hers and the rush of adrenaline in how he touched her. A gentle yet aggressive animal that pushed the boundaries with her but never went too far. That’s what she loved about this man -- her man -- so much.

When she settled in place, JJ nearly had a seizure-like fit when she saw the car in the driveway. Instinctively, she whispered, “Oh no not again…” It was his car. The only person who would have such an outdated car that was that flashy. At the same time, she saw her sister come down the driveway and she sighed heavily and quite noticeably, too. Immediately she turned to her man beside her. “Baby…I’m sorry. Thank you for driving me home. There’s…no doubt I’m in for a long afternoon.” How did one even explain how complex her family drama was in such a short amount of time? “I’ll call you later. Or maybe you can if you want? I don’t know--” As Jessie tried her best to explain this, she looked over at her goldilocks of a sister who seemed quite urgent in how she was looking back and she just sighed out again. Without hesitation, JJ gave Cameron a kiss. A deep one too. If she was going to dive headfirst into whatever shit was waiting for her inside her home, she needed this as much as she knew he wanted it.

Cameron took heed of JJ’s hushed whispers. She was something just before disturbed. The car in the drive, a classic Chevy Stingray had sent her someplace that wasn’t with him. He didn’t like that, not one bit. As Jessie kissed him, his blue eyes locked onto the blonde standing next to the car. That must be Bronagh, JJ’s younger sister. He remembered her from when they were in high school, she really filled out well and the way she was dressed, on his side of town what she was calling fashion, they would call a night walker. Hyde feigned joy as he broke the kiss and gently caressed Blue’s soft lips. “I’ll call you, seems like you’ve got some family stuff to deal with.” He planted a firmer kiss on her forehead and released her neck from his grasp. “Have your phone ready at seven. I’ll call then.”

Bronagh watched as the taxi reversed back out of their drive and pulled away down Scott Street. With her arms folded under her bust, she couldn’t help but smile as her smitten older sister watched a handsome boy pull away. “He’s a bit delicious, Blue. I love freckles. You did a good with that one.” Her smile soon faded and her green eyes shuttered closed at the sound of a salacious electric guitar riff screaming from inside the Milligan household. On any other street, in any other place, someone would file a noise complaint and the police would be called. Not here, not Scott Street.

Bron took a step forward and hugged her older sister tightly. “Hey you.” She missed JJ a tremendous amount, with this being the first time the Milligan sisters had been together in months. Holding onto Jessie tightly, the bombshell couldn’t help but sigh into her neck. “You ready to do this?”

JJ returned her baby sister’s hug, embracing her with supportive arms. Despite what was happening inside and what she heard from the distance they were at, JJ missed Bron so much. With how much college took out of her time, she rarely was able to spend as much time as she wanted to with her baby sister. In those few times she came home, it was never enough time to play full catch up, so she wanted to savor this hug with her sister. After a moment of letting Bron get it out, she made Bron look at her. “Chin up, buttercup. We need to look strong before we go inside. You and I both know if they smell any weakness, we’ve already lost.” Holding Bron by the shoulders, she nodded. “Shake it off. One, two, three--” Three times, JJ relaxed her shoulders with Bron, shaking off whatever hints of weakness off of her face. United they were strong and that’s all the two people inside would see.

Bron took a hold of her elder sister's hand and absorbed it into hers. No matter what was about to be thrown at them, they would face it together, like they always did. Though Bronagh had quite the solid idea of what actually did wait for them on the opposite side of the old oak door. When she first started climbing Hanging Hill, she could hear the noise. When she got towards the end of the street, she saw the car. Both were indicators of one simple fact;

Daddy was home.

The nervousness that Bron and JJ were feeling was not to be confused with fear. Both girls loved their father and knew he loved them. He treated the sisters well, he offered them unconditional support and would do anything for them. He was a good dad. The problem was that he had a power over their mother, it was like a love potion. Whenever he breezed into town after opening and running another restaurant, Ivy would fall head over heels in love with him again until he fucked up. Hell, they even divorced because they found out he had an entire other family elsewhere. Yet even that wasn’t enough to turn their Mom off.

“Let’s go.”

Hand-in-hand, the Sister’s Milligan stepped through the old oak door of their childhood home. Strong and stubborn, usually like their own mother, one thing JJ had noticed almost immediately after opening that door. Those familiar guitar riffs, the symphony of laughter from both of them after each limited pause, the singing-along with David Lee Roth’s legendary voice, it had been an immediate cause for concern as what JJ feared was long gone. What was actually happening was far worse than she thought.

And it was even worse when she had to force both herself and Bron to drag their feet into the kitchen where the sight of their mother dancing with their father with literally no care in the world was going to be their real test. It pained her to a point where she could see it in their mother’s face. The way she smiled, moved, and looked at daddy, she was happy. Like none of what happened before was even a thought. That ignorance-is-bliss type of joy was infectious and JJ almost wanted to not do anything, but then she could feel Bron’s hand squeeze hers and it reminded her of when this hurricane ended. When paradise was lost, Siobhan Milligan was left with the wound wide open as if it was that first day when her heart was crushed.

If anything, it was on her two daughters to reality check it.

Jessie cleared her throat and in the middle of an awkward twirl, Ivy screamed, “Bronagh! Jessie James! You’re hereeee!”She kept swaying her hips along with the song, a smile so infectious that anyone with a frown would turn it upside down. “...Chef, look who’s here?!” Ivy exclaimed, nudging Lance’s arm excitedly.

Turning on his heel, decked out in his signature dirty blue Levi jeans and a Bon Jovi t-shirt, Lance Irvine’s smile widened even further as he drank in the sight of two sets of big green eyes staring back at him, his two daughters, Bronagh and Jessie. The truth of the matter was that despite what people might think about Lance and he never did care about that anyway, he loved his girls. He truly did. He would give his life for them and has on more than one occasion but he also knew their relationship was complicated and that was down to him and his behaviour. Though he truly hoped that they still loved him like he did them.

Lance was not an Edenite by nature. He had been born on the shores of Cape Cod. He grew up surfing, listening to rock music and making sandwiches in his family's beachfront snack shack. It was there where he first honed his love of cooking. It was there that a sexy redhead with big green eyes and a baby on her shoulder walked in looking for a bite. That was Ivy with JJ and Lance was smitten instantly. Hell, if he followed her to Edenridge and started working in restaurants in Pinehurst before he began travelling and working others. As his stock as a chef grew, Lance found himself giving in to his lesser instincts. Jessie and Bronagh were not his only kids. Ivy was not his only family. Yet that didn’t matter right now, what mattered was his girls.

“Fucking A!”Chef exclaimed with a clap as he approached both of his children and pulled them both into a three way hug. “My badass little girls.” He pressed soft, gentle kisses to the side of each of the blonde bombshells heads. Inching back slightly, Lance placed a hand on each of their cheeks. “Prettier every day, the both of you.” He swiftly spun away from his daughters to hurry to the sizzling pan behind the kitchen island. “Smell that girls? Smells like an awesome brunch.”

Before either JJ or Bron could do anything to stop the whirlwind of their father’s hug and kisses (not that either of them would want to), Jessie tried to remain strong but two things were at play. Her dad, the man who might not be her biological father but was every bit the man she thought of when she pictured her father, not some guy who didn’t stick around after knocking her mom up. And the other thing that made her will waver just for a moment was the smell of his cooking. By God, he was the best cook ever. Nobody in Edenridge, or all of Massachusetts for that matter, compared.

“Smells great, dad!” Jessie commented. She couldn't’ tell for certain what it was, but she smelled something familiar that she couldn’t put her finger on.

“I know!” Lance responded confidently as he reached into a nearby jar and pulled out a pinch of fine red flakes, to spread across the contents of his pan. He sucked the residual powder off of his thumb before tossing his hand towel over his shoulder, a signature move form the chef. “I didn’t want to be too fancy for my first meal back so, Bronny can you grab four plates and put them on the island please?”

Bronagh would’ve rolled her eyes if she didn’t love her dad so much. He wasn’t a bad man, despite “his crimes” but she knew he was toxic for her mother. She just couldn’t say no to Lance. Even with that in mind, some of Bron’s most cherished childhood memories were in this very kitchen, cooking with her father and her sister, their mother watching gleefully with the big green eyes she shared with her daughters. “Yes Chef!” She tossed her jacket onto a nearby chair and reached into the drawers to grab some dining plates as requested.

“Thank you Chef!” Lance called back with a big grin. He moved over towards the sink where Ivy stood and reached around her, bringing their bodies close, skin grazing. He rested on hand on her waist as kissed the side of her cheek before pulling away, having grabbed the tongs he required. “So we’re having a pan seared mahi mahi topped with a tomato and olive tapenade, Jess, sweet child o mine, can you just go over to that bowl there and mix that up nice and good for me? Ingredients are already inside.” He moved his hand towards the speaker which was blaring out the heavy rock music that he adored so much. “And while your at it you can tell me and Mom about that cat that just dropped you off.”

As JJ started to mix the bowl, per the request of the head chef, she lost her train of motion, losing almost all focus when he brought up Cameron. She gasped and looked at both of them. “Huh? Sorry, what did you say?”

Ivy giggled, eying Lance lovingly and turned her attention to her daughter. “We saw the Taxi Cab, baby blue. We’re just curious. And maybe your father is more so than I am, but still! I haven’t seen you look so…gushy like a gusher in a long time.” Ivy could see it even if Jessie didn’t say it.

And JJ knew it too.

“His name’s Cameron,” she admitted, looking down at the bowl, making sure the tapenade was mixed to perfection. Immediately as she thought about how much she wanted to tell them, she wondered just what would be appropriate. If it was just her and Bronagh, she could be as explicit as she wanted because Bron was always the same way whenever she’d tell her about her and Tommy Hartmann. “I’ve been seeing him for a while now. Mostly in letters.”

“Letters? Is that like a new lingo you kids have for text messages or something?” Ivy asked, feeling so out of the loop. She tried to keep herself updated because lord knows the other older person in the kitchen couldn’t even fathom some of the modern slang the kids use.

JJ shook her head. “No. Like actual letters. Physical, pen-to-paper letters.He doesn’t have any social media, so that’s the only way we could communicate.” Jessie James Milligan was usually one to keep a strong front, but any time she found herself talking about Cameron, as Lamby had seen yesterday, the love she had for him was written on her face. She couldn’t hide that.

“Pen to paper? What is he like, sixty five?” Lance was the last person to talk to anyone about being old fashioned or outdated. He drove a car from the 70’s, dressed like it was the 80’s and refused to listen to any music post 2001. The Michelin chef glanced over at his ex wife’s big green eyes and knew that if he continued on with tearing apart his daughters new love, he would be in for an earful. “As long as he treats you right…” The large blonde man moved over to his oldest child and kissed her forehead, taking the bowl of tapenade from her and backing away next to his pan. “And you're happy that’s all we care about. Thank you Chef!”

After resting four plates on the kitchen island, Bron paused as her sister's words reverberated in her mind. “Waitwaitwait.” The bombshell rested her palms down and turned to look at Jessie. “Cameron? As in Cameron Hyde? Boy that you spent most of your childhood daydreaming about? I’m pretty sure if we check the attic, we’ll find your old textbooks with Jessica James Hyde written on there.”

“Don’t mock your sister, B-Mills” Lance interjected as he began to place the juicy pieces of fish onto the plates. “What about you?” He asked, taking a large spoon and spreading the beautiful mixture of tomato, olives and chilli into the Mahi Mahi fillets. “Are you still dating the Power Ranger from Pinehurst?” After finishing playing, he clapped his hands together and bowed. “Family up, take your seats ladies and chow down like it’s Chinatown.”

Bronagh took her seat as her father had requested, the smell of his latest treat for them drifting through her nose and into her brain. Too many people often said there was very little good to say about Lance Irvine but one thing that nobody could argue was that he was a damn fine chef. “Thank you Chef.” She smiled as she picked up the cutlery she had lovingly placed besides the food. “And yes Dad I’m still dating Tommy, amongst other people but he’s my guy.”

Ivy could just hear it now. Lance was one of the most old fashioned people she knew, so before he would pipe up on it, Ivy beat him to it. “I think it’s wonderful you two have such trust in each other, Bronagh! It’s a beautiful thing! To be able to still love each other and date other people. You know, back when I was your age, my mother would have had a cow if I was dating the wrong person. And don’t even get me started on what daddy would say. Had to convince him that Chef was more than his denim was.” She dug into the delicious and quite fragrant Mahi Mahi, looking at her first and only husband. “Thank you Chef! It’s so divine! The tapenade is so good. Really brings out the fish’s natural flavor. It’s like I’m right by the sea.” Ivy was transported to Cape Cod, where she and Lance had spent many days. Back in those happier days, when things were perfect between them. If only it had been like that still.

Lance smiled as he watched his first family tuck into the meal he had prepared for them. He had made too many mistakes to count in his life, especially when it came to Ivy and the girls. He hoped, albeit secretly, that by taking this new job that he could right some of those wrongs. There was a new hotel opening up in Edenridge, a fancy place by all accounts and the Mayor wanted to make sure that the finest and most deep-pocketed clientele were the main patrons. Which was why he had asked if Lance would come and be head chef of the hotel's restaurant. Lance of course said yes but only on the condition that he could name the place. Which he rightly did when he named it; the Ivy.

“I love you girls. Now dig in before it gets cold.”

The flight from Manila International Airport to Boston Logan was neither a cheap nor a short flight. Stuck in a metal can over 30,000 feet in the air for well over 24 hours was nobody’s idea of a good time, least of all for Dalisay Navarro.

What should have been a good summer after completing a grueling year of the Intarmed programme with the University of Philippines Manila, Daisy didn’t expect to be woken up in the middle of her first week of summer vacation at 10:30am (pretty annoying when you adapt to the night owl schedule college students tend to fall back on) from her sobbing mother.

“Ang iyong ama ay namamatay. Pinatay nila siya!”

Reymond Guilalas was a notorious over-worker. After arriving in Edenridge with his wife back in the early 00’s, Reymond set out to provide for his family by any means necessary. He put his medical biology degree to good use, offering himself to Edenridge National Lab to help make ends meet for his young family. Daisy barely remembered a time where he wasn’t working, often returning home well into the night and leaving early in the morning to head right back to work. It was almost like her father was a stranger.

And now, for his near two decades of service? A stroke induced by the stress he had been dealing with at work. Mother had been a tad dramatic in the way she’d called Daisy that night to share the news, but it had been enough to shake her awake.

She could have lost her father.

“Hellooo, space cadet? We’ve arrived!”

The impatient voice of the Uber driver tore Daisy out of her thoughts. No longer was she in the tin can in the sky, but a tin can on the road in front of the apartment complex she had once grown up in. She looked from the old brick building to the driver’s face staring her down from his rear view mirror. He had been waiting a while, yikes. “Shit- sorry, I’ll get out now.” Her voice barely audible over the sound of frantic scrambling to grab her travel cardigan and carry-on backpack on her way out of the car. The Uber driver didn’t even leave the car as he opened the boot from inside, allowing Daisy to grab her luggage from inside. “Thanks!” She shouted as she shut the boot, only receiving a single hand raise in acknowledgement before the Honda Civic pulled out of the street.

Inside the brick building of Pleasantview Apartments, on the fourth floor, in room 410, Nadine Navarro, the older sister of Daisy, was cooking up a storm. She hadn’t had a reason to go this hard since before their mother decided to move to the Philippines and take Daisy with her. She wanted to welcome her sister with the smell of home and to ease her worry of their dad’s health. He was fine, just tired and old. Papa Guilalas was currently sleeping in his room, finally on leave from work, which was something Nadie would be more forceful about when he fully recovered. He absolutely had to use his vacation and sick days. No job was worth dying for.

Champorado (sweet rice porridge) for breakfast done, sitting on low heat, and bulalo for lunch, which was already in the process of being prepared since it takes an awful amount of patience to make. As the beef sat and boiled, she cut the green onions and hummed to herself the ending song of Angel Beats, Ichiban no Takaramono. The cut cobs, the onions, the cabbage, the bok choy were all in their own bowls scattered on the counter. She didn’t want to play music on the speakers because she didn’t want to disturb her father nor did she want to wear her headphones so she could catch her sister’s arrival. As much as she loved to jam, she got easily distracted. The only times she could hyper focus was when she was gaming but when she did anything else? She had to make sure that the only thing grabbing her attention was the task at hand. Right now that task would be cooking.

While she cooked, she thought back to the days gone by, her highschool days, where things seemed so much more simpler. Nadie had her gaming group, the Smile Gremlin squad, she had her studies — and ongoing academic rivalry with Ross Takahashi — and she had her family. Now that she was older, her life consisted of not pursuing any of her dreams but instead taking care of her father and helping run the business her mother left behind. In comparison to Daisy, who was able to go to college and focus on herself, Nadine chose to put her life on hold, for the family. She was twenty two and the expectations that the town had of her, as the valedictorian of the class of 2018, were not being met. Her year was full of brilliant people, like Han-Na Kang, Reagan Ramsey, and Seo-Jun Choi. And as much as she hated to admit it, Ross too, so her being picked as the valedictorian was a long fought battle but she did it and she did it with pride. Her greatest achievement was being the one to speak during graduation, when there were much louder voices than her’s in her year, like Maxine James (rest in peace), Aleyda Gonzalez, and Bronagh Milligan. Bigger personalities. Regardless of how remarkably strong her class was either with big brains, big attitudes, or big butts, this was her time to shine and instill hope in her peers, igniting a fire in their souls. She did that for everyone but herself.

From there, there was a gradual fall of the Navarro family where her mother and father would bicker more and more each day. Nadine only spent a year at Ivy League until she was pulled back home and asked if she wanted to stay or go. Turns out a kid shooting up her highschool would be the catalyst to her family, her mother finally deciding she no longer wanted any part of Edenrdige. Daisy was seventeen at the time and had no choice but to go. Nadine however was not and decided to stay in America, with her dad. Her relationship with her mother had been bumpy ever since because not only did Nadine decide to put her future on pause, taking a break from school, to be there for her dad, who was awful at taking care of himself when he wasn’t at work, but she chose him over her mother. This was her choice. Her burden to bear. She hadn’t been back to school since.

Perking up at the sound of buzzing, Nadine placed the knife down on the cutting board and ambled her way to the intercom system. She pressed a button to verify the visitor, “Hello? Daisy, is that you?”

“Nadie! Hi! Yes, it’s me, hi again!” Daisy’s voice buzzed through the intercom. When she heard the familiar hum of the main door opening, Daisy began the process of heaving her luggage through the front doors of Pleasantview apartments and up to the third floor where her old childhood apartment waited.

By the time Daisy crossed the threshold between the hallway and through the front door of her apartment, she was feeling the exhaustion. From the flight to the Uber that hurt her wallet, she was ready to nap. Except, Daisy knew her nose, and she knew her sister. The smell of various veg as well as the sweet smell of chocolate and cinnamon invigorated her tired body. She would last just long enough to devour her sweet sister’s handiwork before crashing, Daisy decided.

“Boy am I glad to see you,” Daisy dropped her luggage by the door to approach her sister and engulf her in a warm hug. “You wouldn’t believe what I was made to eat on the flight. The torture! Please tell me my nose and eyes aren’t hallucinating and we have good food here.” Daisy sniffled dramatically.

“You know me,” Nadie winked at her sister. Instinctively, she grabbed Daisy’s luggage and carried it to her room that hadn’t been touched since half of the family left for the Philippines. Dad didn’t have the heart to change anything, not even for an office or a workspace. The only thing that changed in the apartment really was Nadie’s gaming rig. “Champorado is already ready. You can have some before your nap, and then by the time you wake up the bulalo will be done. Just preparing everything right now.” Pushing Daisy’s old room door open, she continued, “I was thinking of making cinnamon buns too. I don’t have anything scheduled till my stream tonight so I have time to kill.” Back in the kitchen, her anime playlist switched to the opening for Ouran Highschool Host Club, Sakura Kiss.

When she placed Daisy’s bags down on the firmly made bed, she snapped her finger, “Oh that reminds me.” Nadine turned to her sister and gave a small, exhausted smile. There were bags under her eyes which meant that the once upon a Valedictorian hadn’t gotten good sleep for who knows how long. Gaming never really impacted her sleep schedule. Daisy would know if anything was keeping her sister up, it was her restless mind. “Adam’s here. Your… Fred? Is that right? You’re Daphne, Roddy is Shaggy, Kylee is Velma…??” It’s been awhile since the Scoobies were a group of four. There wasn’t a reason to mention them until now with her sister being here. It was unfortunate that Roddy had left though. If only Daisy had come a month earlier. “He works at Beau’s cafe. He wasn’t in today so it’s probably his day off. He’s been here for like a month I think. You should see if he and Kylee are free tonight. Kylee probably could use some normalcy after the events that happened this morning.”

“You’re the best, Nadie,” Daisy hummed along to the song, vibing to her favourite anime track as she inspected Nadine’s cooking. As always, it was delicious and her mouth was drooling from anticipation. Surely that nap could wait, right? A heavy blink was enough to remind her that no, being awake for over 24 hours running on caffeine was not a ‘normal’ thing to do. Unless you were a college student. Or a gamer. Or NEET. “An angel gracing us from the heavens to soothe our gentle heart- no, stomach in this case, shit.” There was something about home that brought out Daisy’s dramatic flair, the theatre kid in her ready to make everything into a show for the laughs.

“Adam? You mean THE Adam Callahan? Mr Poof one day like me?” Daisy blinked in surprise. Granted, Daisy was whisked away barely a month after the senior year tragedy after Mrs Navarro caused a huge stink about the lack of safety procedures put in place by the school. About not ‘dealing with that Decker kid sooner’. But, if there even was a silver lining in this fucked up scenario, at least Daisy had gotten the chance to say goodbye to Roddy and Kylee. Adam never did. “Something’s in the air for all us Scooby gang to reunite like this. Maybe that explains why I’ve been seeing a lot of activity in the ex drama chat. Something about that Cleary girl from my year confessing on Dawn Patrol that she was the one seeing David? Devi and Pres were live text-reacting to it. They lost their minds.” Kylee always had an inkling for a good story. If something was going down, Kye was sure to follow with her detective logic, like the perfect incarnation of Velma.

“Yeah, the Adam Callahan, though I don’t know the details. Never been tight with him like you were.” Walking away from Daisy’s bed, Nadine rested her hand on her sister’s shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze, “I’m glad to have you back. I just hope you don’t regret your decision,” the older sister frowned at the thought that Daisy escaped and was returning to hell, for the sake of family. Nadie was given the option but she couldn’t leave her dad like that. She loved him too much and if it weren’t for her, he would’ve had a stroke sooner. “Maybe you coming back is just what this town needs, seeing how ghosts are coming out of their graves to haunt us. First Allison, now David. I can’t help but think this is only going to get worse… but I’m sure Kylee is trying to find who has Decker’s journal. You should help her and not worry so much about dad and the cleaning business. I got it. Enjoy being back, be with your friends, and,” she paused and playfully booped her sister’s nose, “solve this fucked up mystery.”

Daisy pulled her sister into a warm hug, leaning against Nadine’s shoulder to provide her with the same level of comfort that Nadie gives her. “I didn’t want you to handle it alone.” Nadine was always like that - the level headed one in the family that just got on with life. She was the smart one, the one with so much promise, yet their mom never seemed to accept that Nadine simply had a mind of her own. No matter what, the two women were always on opposite ends and Daisy always felt the pinprick of guilt in the pit of her stomach when she’d remember the times she’d try to be the bridge between them. Usually to no avail.

“I’ll help Kye, definitely. But I’m also here for you, don’t forget that, okay? I’m all grown up now, I can help.” Daisy then pulled away from the hug before it got too emotional. She would blabber too much and Daisy was not prepared to embarrass herself in the first 10 minutes of the reunion with her sister. It was clear in the last two years it wasn’t just Daisy that had changed, but the whole town seemed to have progressed without her. With Adam back, wild Gossip Girl like secrets being spilled, mousy cheerleaders owning up to their crazy romances and a polyamorous sextet including her sex fiend football teammate, Daisy had a lot to catch up on with Nadie and Kylee.

“Now, what’s this about some letters? Apparently nobody thought to send them over to the Philippines so I only have Preston’s version of events to go off of.”

“The short version is that someone has Charlie Decker’s journal and that boy was as sad as they come. Seeing things he probably shouldn’t. It only just started happening last month. Dear David was a red herring. Jamie O’Hara liked the impact of the Allison incident so she decided to force Cece’s hand and try to clean her brother’s name.” With furrowed eyebrows, strained at the nonsense this town was, Nadie played with her hair, reliving the day when the first set flooded everyone’s mailboxes. She continued, “The first batch of letters revealed perfect Allison had a drug problem and was scared to graduate, knowing damn well her best years were over. Similar to how David drank his failures away and it got him killed. She died in her best friend’s arms. Oh, and no one talks about the fact that Allison was screwing her best friend’s lover but maybe it’s because he’s the Kingsnake. Iunno. Anyways, whoever has Charlie’s journal hasn’t made a second strike yet but it’s still out there and I have this gut feeling this is only the beginning.”

“Did I step into an episode of Jerry Springer? I swear not everyone had a terrible secret like this. Seriously, hooking up with your best friend’s man. Disloyalty right there when you remember how much Vivia worshiped Allison.” The girls were never far from each other, as to be expected from close best friends. Even Daisy was never too far from Preston or Kylee and Roddy when she was still attending Edenridge High. Daisy clicked her tongue in disappointment. Messy mess all around. “What about you Nadie, got a deep dark secret you want off your chest? Before we get a letter in the mailbox about you next?” Daisy nudged her sister's side playfully, hoping to keep things light. Nadie was good, she looked well. Daisy only hoped she was feeling it too.

“God, I wish,” Nadine half joked. Her life was dull and like clockwork. The only interesting thing she had going for her in school was her feud with Ross. “You should unpack and rest,” the older girl dismissively responded, rolling her eyes at Daisy’s playful antics. Gesturing to the luggage waiting on the bed, Nadie concluded, marking the end of their first interaction, “I need to finish cooking anyways.” Pulling her sister once more in a tight embrace, Nadie kissed Daisy’s cheek and smiled, “it’s good to have you back, sis.” It was clear Nadie wasn’t one to talk openly about herself. You had to catch her at a good moment. Daisy returning home and coming from the airport wasn’t one of those moments.

Daisy hugged her sister back, enjoying this moment of sisterhood after missing it for three long years. “Fine then, keep your secrets. I’ll take bribery in food.” Finally pulling away, Daisy looked at her luggage with disdain, as though a simple look would unpack everything for her (it didn’t). She wanted to push some more, playfully banter with Nadie and just have one night of peace before-

*Ping*.

Daisy looked at her phone, seeing three messages from her mom still back in the Philippines. Likely having guessed that Daisy had arrived from the airport by now. She swiped the message away, ignoring that growing knaw of anxiety building up from the reminder of the reason she was here in the first place - her father. Who was still recovering away in the next room over.

“I gotta text Ky and get this scoop about Adam anyway.” Daisy said, ushering Nadine out of her room so she could finally distract herself with salacious texts and boring unpacking.

Shane Osprey had only been back on dry land for less than an hour when he got a text from his favourite little pothead, Addie Davies-Drake. The usual context of the mad young girl's messages were centred around the buying and smoking of weed with her and Natalia. They were three very different individuals of different ages, bonded by a love of something green. However Adelaide’s text had nothing to do with a joint, nor was it a welcome home after Shane had spent the better part of six weeks at sea with Big Bear Summerhill and Captain Sean Costigan, ferrying rich people to exotic destinations on their yacht.

Captain Costigan had to shoot off immediately after they had docked, something to do with his son being in hospital. Bear was greeted by three of his four stunning daughters and Shane couldn’t help but wonder how someone like the Bear could make anything as beautiful as Pava, Yana, Chey and Odie. The Native man lived a free life out on the sea, a modern pirate swashbuckling across the ocean, bound only by his own will. His relationship with his daughters must run deep for them to allow him to go off as he did.

Shane was not welcomed by any of his family when he departed the boat. His father would never close the shop. Who would clothe the men and women of Edenridge if not an Osprey? Freya was likely busy too. It was fine, he didn’t expect much. He was sitting in Beau’s when Addie messaged him asking if he wanted to go on a date. That confused the young man as he knew that she was gay and they had never had any kind of inkling of a romantic connection. Before he could send an awkward response, the pixie luckily followed up her message with another one explaining that she had found him the perfect girl.

This was intriguing. He wasn’t sure what possessed Addie to become a matchmaker and he was even less sure as to whether to take her up on it. At least, that was until she told Shane who the date was with. He had long had a crush on Addie’s cousin Alexandria Davies. Everyone was obsessed with her older sister in both life and death. He couldn’t help but watch Lex instead. She was gorgeous and behind her bright smile and pretty green eyes, she was kind too. Shane had spent much of his life in a wheelchair, he had been looked down on and mocked but not Lex. She always took the time to talk to him, always took the time to treat him like a human being. He was quite sad when Lex left for military school.

Yet now there he was, out of the chair, dressed in the best casual suit his father had available and he was walking through the door of El Cielito to go on a date with THE Lexie Davies. His heart was pounding when his eyes locked with hers across the restaurant.

Don’t fuck it up, Shane.

To say that Alexandria was nervous would be an understatement.

One of the main reasons dating in Edenridge was a risky, complicated game was that small town living made for plenty of crossover in the tangled webs of romance and lust its residents created. If you were interested in someone, chances are they turned out to be family, an ex of someone you knew, or the current partner of someone you knew. The odds of finding someone that wasn’t or hadn’t been involved with a person close to you were as slim as finding a needle in a haystack. A blind date deprived Lex of the opportunity to do some research on the other person and be prepared for any unpleasant surprises, which made the whole thing even more anxiety-inducing. When she’d voiced her concerns to Addie during the ride to the restaurant, her cousin had pleaded for her trust, and sworn on her love for women that she’d picked out ‘the perfect man for her’. And although she believed her cousin, Lexie’s apprehension remained at an all-time high as she exited the vehicle and made her entrance to El Cielito.

The Davies girl had arrived at the restaurant ten minutes before the scheduled meeting time, which gave her plenty of time to panic and overthink. She’d been shifting around in her chair since she’d been seated, and not even the tequila shot she’d taken to soothe herself had worked. In the midst of her nervous fidgeting, she'd awkwardly locked eyes with nearly every single patron that had entered the restaurant after she’d been seated, her anticipation growing heavier with every person that didn't acknowledge her as their date. So when her green eyes momentarily met with a pair of blue ones across the room, she bashfully looked away without thinking anything of it. A split-second later, however, when her anxious mind finally made the connection between name and face, the woman did a double take.

"STOP!" Lexie yelled out in disbelief, green eyes wide and gaping mouth being covered by both of her hands.

The last time she had seen Shane Osprey had been years ago, before being shipped off to the city. Back then, he'd been a quiet, lanky teen that stuck out in the sea of Edenridge High students because of his newcomer status and the metal wheelchair he was begrudgingly tied to. As someone who knew firsthand what it felt to be on the receiving end of the cruel comments from the dim-witted peers that resided in her hometown, the Davies girl had always been quick to jump to Shane's defense whenever he was being mistreated, never once caring about the consequences she could face. She'd treated him with the kindness and decency any human deserved, making a point to interact with him frequently but never making him feel like her actions came from a place of pity. Unfortunately, Lexie and Shane had lost touch when she'd left town. Addie had kept her updated on his progress throughout the years and she'd seen photos, but the two didn't coincide on the rare occasions she’d dropped by Eden, which meant they hadn't seen each other or spoken to each other in a long time.

Years later, here was her old friend: sporting a casual suit perfect for this night out (no doubt his father’s doing), looking positively handsome after growing into his looks and confidently striding towards her on his own two feet, no wheelchair in sight.

Overcome with excitement, Lexie leapt up from her seat, sprinted across the restaurant and jumped straight into his arms, wrapping her own around his tall frame and grinning so widely it hurt. Out of all the men Adelaide could've picked to be her blind date, Shane Osprey was the most perfect option.

Now wasn’t this a turn up?

As Lexie jumped into his arms, Shane couldn’t help but allow for a huge grin to cross his face. He tightened his hold on the smaller girl…no, she was a woman now, and she was gorgeous. He could feel the warmth of her skin against his and he could feel his heart begin to race faster than a speeding car. She smelled amazing, she looked amazing. Now all he had to do was be amazing for her and this night could be something special. After a few more moments of silence and them just holding each other in the middle of the restaurant, Shane finally lowered Lex down to her feet gently and took a slight step back so that he could drink in the view.

He was used to seeing beautiful scenery on the boat; sunrises, sunsets, tropical sea life and the rare instance of Big Bear making breakfast but all paled in comparison to Lexie. The way the dim El Cielito light bounced off of her bronze shine, the glow flickering in her green eyes and the way the maroon dress clung to her body to show dangerous curves ahead. She was a vision, truer than ever Shane had ever seen before. “You look phenomenal, Lexie.” He managed to blurt out, bringing his hand to his jaw and rubbing it gently.

The smile on Alexandria’s face meant that she wasn’t against him being her ‘blind date’. This was a massive relief. She had always been nice to him and although he knew it wasn’t pity, he also believed that it could never have gone any further than friendship. She was Lexie Davies! She was royalty in this town. He was just the lanky new guy in a wheelchair that was too small for him, who up until two years ago wasn’t able to walk under his own power. How could he ever be anything close to enough for her? That he didn’t know, but he was definitely going to try.

Shane owed Addie big time.

Lexie grinned and shook her head. "Me? How about you?!" she replied enthusiastically, gesturing up and down at him with both hands. "You're up on your feet, you're walking, I felt some muscles when you lifted me up earlier…" she trailed off with a giggle, eyes glazed over with the tell-tale shimmer of happy tears. "I'm just… I'm so happy for you, Shane. I'm so happy for you, and I’m so happy to see you."

Lexie could only imagine the years of pain and suffering Shane had endured chained to his wheelchair because of his condition: the jokes, the dismissal, the missed opportunities, the mistreatment... He'd always put on a brave face and dusted the dirt off his pants, claiming he'd grown so used to it things didn't bother him anymore. But Lex could always see the hurt he tried so hard to hide bleeding through his eyes. She'd been able to recognize it right away because she was doing the same. After Allison’s death, she’d boasted about having thick skin when the reality was that it all hurt more than the cuts she secretly inflicted on herself while seeking a release from it all. She felt helpless that couldn't do more to help Shane, and there was more than one time where she'd wondered about the state of his well-being while she was gone. Thankfully, he'd found friendship in Adelaide and Natalia Belmonte, which Lex had seen in the photos had lightened his burden somewhat. But none of that compared to seeing him in person, glowing with happiness and lighting up the room with that breathtaking smile of his. The joy she felt in her heart was indescribable.

To look at the tall man now, one wouldn’t think that Shane had spent much of his life confined to a wheelchair. He had been born with a genetic defect in his lower spine which had rendered him nearly paralysed with extremely limited lower movement. He spent his entire life watching his younger sister Freya run around, enjoying her life like any other child whilst he was stuck on the sidelines, staring out of the window at a world he didn’t think he would ever know.

Edenridge was never supposed to be a fresh start for the Ospreys. It was simply meant to be a drop off on their journey to fashion excellence. Shane’s father Percy wanted to open a new branch of his tailors in town and so the family arrived in the summer of twenty fifteen. He had been the new kid in school before, so Shane knew exactly what to expect. After the awkward introductions and explaining why he was wheelchair bound, the young man retreated into himself. He ventured out looking for weed for his pain and found himself crossing paths with Charlie Decker and Adelaide Davies-Drake. Through them, he also met Natalia Belmonte and found a kindred spirit, his future best friend. Despite these friendships, Shane always felt alone, save for when Alexandria herself made him feel a sense of normalcy.

It was Lexie’s own aunt, Addie’s mom Wednesday, that conducted the experimental surgery on him the day after he graduated high school. It was a long eight hours spent with her eyes deep down a microscopic lens, moving muscles with tweezers, slicing out excess fats and attempting to calcify vertebrae. When he woke up, for the first time in his life, Shane had the full feeling of his body. The sensations were somewhat overwhelming and addictive. It was likely because of that he ended up venturing out into the world on Sean Costigan’s boat, hoping to see the face of the world that had passed him by. In the two years since, Shane had seen a thousand beautiful things, but Lexie’s smile was better than any of them.

Reaching for and taking a hold of Lex’s hand, lacing their fingers together, Shane’s eyes drifted over to the table where she had come from. The welcome couldn’t last forever, it was time for him to give Lex a night she was worthy of. “Shall we?”

The young woman nodded with that wide smile still in her face. "Yeah. I guess we should, before P gets mad at me," she chuckled, glancing over at their teenage server and shooting Shane a playful wink before allowing herself to be escorted back to their table.

After Paola Guerrero (the restaurant owners’ second oldest daughter) had taken their orders and returned with their drinks of choice, it was time for conversations to get started. "So, tell me what's going on! How's life been treating you these past few years?" Lexie asked Shane, taking a sip from one of El Cielito's frozen strawberry margaritas.

From within Shane’s throat came a small, soft half chuckle. “Well.” Before he began he took a sip from his mojito, the mix of mint and rum burning his taste buds in the best way. “Since the last time I saw you, as you can see I’m walking now. That’s a thing that happened. Your aunt worked wonders.” The waitress popped some complimentary chips and salsa on the table as the sailor took off his smart blazer and hung it behind his chair. "Though I do think she must’ve put something extra in there because I don’t think I’m naturally this tall.” A sardonic wit had very much been Shane’s defacto mode throughout his life, so rare was it that he actually got to be himself and enjoy it. He wanted to enjoy it with Lexie.

"Shut up, yes you are!” the young woman retorted with a snicker. "Addie told me about the surgery back when it happened. I was so happy for you. I remember telling her that it couldn’t have happened to a better person. If anyone deserved a chance to live their life to the fullest, it was definitely you,” she admitted with an earnest little smile and a wink.

”I appreciate that, and you, thank you.” There she was, showing Shane that signature Lexie Davies kindness. She didn’t have to go out of her way to comment on his situation but she did and did so with genuine care. Shane was so used to falsities that he had indeed joked during a smoke session with Adelaide and Natalia that he was a human lie detector.

"So what are you doing now? You’ve ditched the chair and you’re free to do whatever you want with your life. What did you decide your next step would be?” she asked Shane, eating a few of the salsa-dipped chips.

Shane took a small sip from his cocktail, the ice cold refreshing mint mix a perfect contract to the summer heat. “I’m working now, on Clay Costigan’s dads yacht? Just a deckhand, nothing glamorous, but I get to see the world.” He never allowed his eyes to leave her, enamoured by her smile. He couldn’t tear himself away.

"Seeing the world, huh? That sounds really cool,” the girl replied dreamily, tucking a hand under her chin while keeping her eyes on Shane. "I wanna do that myself at some point, as a travel nurse. Going around the country saving lives, making money and sight-seeing all at the same time is a pretty appealing career choice.”

“I’ll have to speak to the skipper to see if he wants to fire his on board nurse and we can get you on board? I know a good chunk of our clients would prefer you more than our current medical personnel.” Shane grinned from ear to ear. Even at this early stage, she was living every second of this.

"As long as you put in a good word for me to get the job, we're good," she teased back, taking another sip of her drink.

“What about you? Last Addie said you had just got out of college and were planning on chasing your BSN and some employment?”

"Well," the brunette began, helping herself to some more of the chips on the table before responding. "Because I took some AP classes back in high school and I chose an accelerated program, I was able to get an and become an RN in two years and graduated just a few weeks ago. I started looking for work in Boston that same night-- I really had no plans of coming back to town; my entire life was in the city. But for the first time in my life, Edenridge's nepotism worked out in my favor. Apparently, Auntie Wednesday had put in a good word for me at Sinclair Health while I was still in school, so as soon as I graduated she came to me with a job opportunity and I jumped at it." Lexie explained, taking another sip of her drink and chomping on a few salsa-dipped chips. The fact that the job she spoke about was more of a cover and way to launder the money from her actual job wasn't something that needed to be disclosed anytime soon-- preferably, not even at all. "So if your surgery would've been happening anytime soon, chances are I probably would've been the lovely individual in charge of taking care of you until you were discharged from the hospital. Isn't that fucking scary?" She teased with a dramatic gasp, as if the mere idea of anyone trusting her with another human being's care was ludicrous.

“I don’t think that’s scary at all. I’d love for you to be the one to take care of me.” Shane realised the weight of his words. Perhaps that was a little too forward? He had been living his days like he had never lived at all a lot of the time. No filter, no funnel, just doing what made him happy because he didn’t know how long it would last. Even taking this date with Lexie was part of it. Shane had always wanted to ask her out, Addie knew that, but his lack of self confidence always stopped him. He was doing his utmost not to let it stop him now. Sitting there before her beauty, he felt like crumbling into dust, he did not feel worthy. “I’m not usually a big lover of nepotism but yours is a special case. If you hadn't come back, we wouldn’t be here together. I always knew your cousin was a bit crazy but a blind date? Might be her magnum opus.”

The smile Lexie had been wearing became a blinding grin at Shane's nice words. "Stop it! You're so sweet!" she squealed, reaching over the table to hold his hand and squeeze it in appreciation of his words. She'd forgotten about how sweet and charming Shane had always been with her-- rivaling even her most long-lasting ex. It was a nice feeling. "It came at a good time, too. I was going to start looking at ways to get out of here again," she explained with a dry chuckle, taking another sip of her drink. She didn't want to make the same mistake her fellow townies made in making the conversation about Allison, so she chose to divert the topic back towards Shane. "It doesn't matter, though! All I care about right now is us enjoying tonight together. And when it's fucking free, how can you say no?" She teased with a laugh.

“Free?” Shane laughed. “I’ll have you know, Miss Davies, that I charge by the hour for my company.” He teased right back at her as their main courses arrived in front of them.

As they tucked into their meals, Lex and Shane covered a myriad of topics that both held near and dear. They chatted like the old friends they were, completely and utterly enjoying each other's company. The drinks flowed with a buy one get one free offer which had loosened up both of them. Of course they would end up the last two people in the restaurant, having lost all track of time and space until the Guerreros decided that they had been there too long.

After they left El Cielito, Lexie and Shane wound up at the Hole in the Wall for a swift drink and more conversation. It was here that they began to delve into the topic of escape from Edenridge. Despite the sadness that both carried, their time purposely did not dwindle on the negative things. Shane offered to show her his escape and once they had sunken a pint or three at the Hole, he took the beguiling beauty to his other home, the docks.

Leading Alexandria by the hand, the tall boy could feel the warmth from her fingers penetrate his skin and warm his body to its core. He was so excited to share this night with her, even if it didn’t last. Lex had been his hill to die on, the girl he would’ve done anything to get and now there they were, descending the slopes of Collins Port, hand in hand, together. “So that one is mine.” He pointed to a large motor yacht that was currently getting washed. “Well, not mine, but you know what I mean.”

"Holy shit!" Lexie shrieked in amusement, staring agape at the yacht Shane was pointing to. Growing up, her father would take her and Allison for a walk along the pier on Sunday afternoons after enjoying a nice brunch at Dolly's. As a little girl, she found beauty in all of the boats along the marina. But Captain Costigan's yachts, with their pristine exteriors and luxurious interiors, were always the crown jewels of the lot. She remembered Clay and his father taking them on a tour of his last yacht, and how she dreamt about being old and rich enough to afford a trip of her own. Hopefully soon, if she worked hard enough, she'd be able to fulfil her dream.

It had been a few years since the last time she'd been down here, though, because this was a new boat. But in her slightly inebriated state, she didn't realize it until she was already blurting out: "I don't remember it being that big." As soon as the words left her mouth, the young woman grinned and shot a smirk towards her date. "Addie would've flamed me for that one," she commented with a laugh.

“Somewhere in town, she’s likely heard those words on the wind and is laughing away to herself or whatever girl she’s managed to rope into her web.” Shane glanced down at Lexie as she stared up at the boat in wonder, his jacket hanging large and loose over her shoulder and her petite frame. He was an old romantic at heart and giving her girl his jacket may seem like an old school move but it was also the kind thing to do and if Mama and Papa Osprey did anything right, it was to raise a gentleman. Reaching into his pockets, Shane could feel his keys rattling around. The clinking and clanking of sterling silver whispered an idea into his ear. With a slight lower lip bite, he looked up towards the bow and back down at Lexie. “You wanna go take a look inside?”

Captain Costigan would kill him if he found out-- or at least in theory he would. The reality was that when most of the crew were on shore leave in whatever place that the yacht had docked at, Big Bear usually wound up bringing back some local girl to play his games with and would do so with little to no repercussions beyond a reprimand. However the big difference between Shane and Bear was seniority. He had only been with the crew for just under eighteen months. Bear had been with Sean for over twenty years. They started on ships together and when Sean decided he was going to captain his own and start a business, Bear was his first hire. For Lexie, Shane was willing to take the risk and hoped that he had built up enough good faith with the skipper to allow him a free pass.

Alexandria’s face lit up instantly, and she looked up at Shane the same way she used to look at the many gifts under the tree on Christmas morning. "Hell yeah!" she exclaimed, grabbing Shane's other hand and spinning them around a few times in excitement, giggling all the while before wrapping one of her arms around his torso. Judging by Shane’s expression before he asked, they were probably about to do something they shouldn’t… which made whatever mischief they’d get into all the more fun.

With Lexie’s arms wrapped around his torso, Shane led the pair further down the slip dock and towards the stairs of the motor yacht. It didn’t take much for him to be able to get them aboard the ship, all he needed was his million dollar smile and his crew ID for the night workers to allow him and his stunning companion to board the vessel. The sailor hadn’t given any thought to the fact they were using the crew entrance, meaning they entered into the yacht below deck. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue but with a guest who had never been there, Shane had to explain that all quarters were close, single file areas. It was tight in every space as he and Lex made their way through the bowels of the boat: drunkenly crashing into each other with every short step.

After making their way deck side, Shane, still clutching onto his gorgeous date, walked them towards the bow of the ship. “And this is where you will usually find the guests pretending they’re in Titanic.” He laughed as he motioned towards the tip of the yacht, with his date joining in. “Behind us are stairs that lead to the jacuzzi and games room, as well as the captain's bridge where he steers us.” It was at this point that he released Lexie from his grip. “So this is my life, my escape.”

"It's a beautiful place to escape to. That’s for sure," she observed, giving Shane a soft smile.

The Davies girl allowed silence to settle between them momentarily, filled only with the sound of the waves crashing softly around them while she admired the late night view stretching out in front of them. As she stared at the way the open ocean mirrored the bright reflection of the blanket of stars and the full moon above them, an interesting question suddenly came to her.

"Have you ever thought about staying?" Lexie asked Shane, a sudden seriousness in her voice unlike her previous bubbly, buzzed behaviour. "Like, during your travels, have you ever loved a place so much you'd be willing to say 'fuck it' and stay there forever? Somewhere you can start over, where nobody knows anything about you and you can be whoever you want?"

Despite his inebriated state, Shane knew how loaded that question really was. Lexie, despite her status and her family's status in Edenridge had suffered a great deal. She had struggled in the looming, all encompassing shadow of her beloved older sister Allison. To be a Davies in this hellmouth carried with it the greatest of expectations and the largest pitfalls. He had often wondered how those that carried foundling names around their necks like nooses dealt with it all and he was surprised that more of them hadn’t ended up like Allie or David.

“I think that’s why I chose the boat, you know?” Shane began. “I never really had a home, constantly moving because of Dad’s business. Edenridge is the place we’ve stayed the longest my entire life.” He moved a little closer to the bow, placing a hand on the railing. “I never got to be myself until I was out of the chair. I get to be whoever I want when I’m out on this water. No prejudice, no pity, no sympathy and no expectations.” His ocean blue eyes looked down at the girl and he smiled before turning back to the calm water. “I guess to answer your question, no, I’ve never loved a place that much because to start over completely without someone by your side would be an awful waste.” Shane returned his gaze to Lexie and smiled. “If I was gonna start over, I’d have to make sure the right person was standing next to me.”

"Oh, absolutely!" Lexie nodded in agreement, returning to her bubbly, liquor-buzzed self. She completely understood what her date meant. As independent as she considered herself to be, uprooting your life to a strange country on your own could make for a very lonely experience. Making a leap like that with your beloved and coming home to your better half would always trump returning to a quiet, empty house. "But you can't tell me that in the year and a half that you've been sailing around the world you haven't found a single girl you'd risk it all for," the young woman teased, turning around from the bow to face Shane and taking both of his hands on hers. "I mean, look at you! You're tall, you're handsome. You have the prettiest eyes. Your charming smile with those perfect teeth can probably blind someone. You're smart, you're kind. You're patient, and funny. You're a good listener… Shit, I could go on about you all night!" she complimented with a chuckle, swinging their arms by their intertwined hands with each compliment she gave him. "You are so fucking amazing, Shane. And if none of these girls will scoop you up, I guess I'll have to do it myself." Lexie teased with a wink, letting go of Shane's hands to stand on her tiptoes and throw her arms over his neck, green eyes locked with blue with a smile that didn't leave her face.

“Careful, Miss Davies.” Shane was all but lost in Lexie’s smile. She was so lively and energetic and had a way about her that he hasn’t seen in such a long time. So much of the young woman was hidden behind a shroud of grief and pain and he felt blessed to be able peer behind the curtain and see the true Alexandria Davies again, the one he had felt deeply for so long. “You inch any closer and I might have to kiss you, which of course I charge extra for and I don’t know if Addie’s tab will cover it.” The truth of the matter was that he wanted to kiss her and he wanted to do so quite badly. She was inches from his face, wrapped around him like lovers do, and she was happy. God, she was beautiful when she was happy.

The shorter girl raised her eyebrows, chuckled and bit her lip. "Really?" she inquired, defiantly inching closer to Shane's face. If she was quite honest, Lexie had never thought of Shane in any way other than friendship before tonight. He was a gem of a man, with so many favorable qualities he’d give any old Prince Charming a run for his money. That’s why she’d always felt like he deserved someone much better than her: less damaged, less traumatized, less broken, less mad at the world. Yet staring up at his handsome face in the moonlight-- with that bright smile and those pure blue eyes-- and encouraged by the drinks from earlier, there was nothing more she wanted to do right now than to cross the line-- consequences be damned.

"Then maybe you should just kiss me. But before you do…" she trailed off, allowing her hot breath to tease his lips before suddenly pulling away and crying out: "You're gonna have to catch me first!"

With a howl of laughter, Lexie pushed Shane away from her and sprinted across the boat. She grabbed the railing and jumped across the stairs, making a surprisingly graceful landing on the floor below despite her inebriated state. Before her date had even time to process what had just happened, the brunette had already disappeared from view inside the vessel.

Oh this was a bad idea. A very bad idea. Yet Shane couldn’t help himself as he gave chase. Just over eighteen months ago, he was miserable and couldn’t even fathom walking around. Still, there he was: running around a yacht, which one should never do at the best of times, and he was chasing Lexie Davies, whom he had wanted since he first wheeled into Edenridge. Was it all a dream? Had Addie laced her latest batch of weed with LSD or peyote? If it was all a manifestation of his inner mind, then Shane really didn’t want it to end.

It wasn’t really hard to follow Alexandria as she moved around the boat. Her giggles were a massive telltale sign of where she was. Plus she was being quite heavy footed, though that was likely the alcohol building her confidence but dulling her senses. Thank God she had taken off her heels at some point during their tour and was running barefoot. Eventually the chase ended in the bathroom of the presidential suite; which was reserved for the highest paying charter guests. Blocking the doorway with his long body, Shane smiled. “Got ya.” He took a step forward into the room, his heart racing and his skin on fire. That was all that he needed to tell him what he wanted. Her. “So, I caught you. Does that mean I get to kiss you now?”

The panting Lexie didn't respond to his question with words. Instead, after giving him a beaming smile, she wrapped her arms around him again and pulled him into a kiss.

In that moment, Shane gave in to the heat and the want and pulled her tightly against him, body to body. As his lips feverishly danced with hers, he could feel Lexie unbuttoning his shirt, her hands exploring his body in earnest need. He hiked the smaller woman up into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist as he sat her on a dressing table. With his hands now cupping her face, Shane caressed her pouty lips with his thumb tip, becoming lost in those green eyes and that smile once more. Gently, he looked at her and short of breath spoke again. “Are you sure?”

The small part of Lex that remained sober was taken aback by Shane's actions, in a good way. To ask for her consent to proceed even when desire and alcohol were ruling their senses made it clear that he was a gentleman above everything else, which was a quality the young woman valued greatly. The other part of Lex-- the one feeling daring and emboldened by the liquor they'd consumed earlier-- was begging for release from the hair-raising thrill of this late-night adventure.

Finally, the young woman handed Shane the match that would light up a blazing flame between them. "Yes." she breathed out with a nod, ensuring she got her point across by kissing the thumb previously caressing her lips, pulling him towards her and entangling him in another passionate kiss.

To consider himself lucky was an understatement. Shane had longed for a moment like this, to be shared with Alexandria Davies for as long as he called Edenridge home. He had desired to be with her for so long, beyond the physical. Shane had always wanted to be a piece of her heart, a piece filled with love and affection, and perhaps this was the start of that becoming a reality? Her hands had removed his shirt and her fingers drifted to his back, and he could feel them brush against the scarring from his surgery. But this did not deter Lexie. All it did was make her deepen the kiss, breathing him in as they gave themselves to one another intensely and desperately.

Two souls crashing together like high tide waves against a boat at sea: powerful, unstoppable, and undeniable.

For the better part of nearly four years, Kianna Johnson’s days had consisted of the same old routine. The melodic sound of her phone’s alarm would echo through the thin walls of her one-bedroom apartment at the Lost Souls complex, signaling the arrival of a new day. The young woman’s hazel eyes opened slowly, acclimating themselves to the brightness radiating from the window. Once she mustered up the will to get up, she trudged to the apartment’s small bathroom for the shower that would revive her, the dental hygiene that kept her teeth nice even though she didn't smile very often and the skincare routine that kept her face radiant and blemish-free. Her curly hair was quickly styled into a lazy bun decorated by a sunflower-patterned headband and some loose strands framing her freshly made-up face-- her eyes emphasized by mascara and her arched eyebrows groomed with some eyebrow gel. The return visit to her bedroom would provide her with the clothing items and accessories she needed for the day: her underwear, her short-sleeved navy jumpsuit, yellow socks, stud earrings and the golden locket she was never seen without. Spritzes of the sweet and fruity Ariana Grande perfume her Uncle Randall and Aunt Raven had gotten her last Christmas brought the look together before she gave herself one last glance-over and departed for the kitchen.

Breakfast consisted of whatever she felt like eating each morning, with a freshly-brewed pot of coffee being the constant no matter the day or the season. One cup was consumed during breakfast, while the remaining portion was put in one of her personalized, insulated tumblers to satisfy the caffeine cravings throughout the day. She indulged in watching an episode of whatever Netflix show she was hooked on at the time during her meal, taking one last moment for herself before leaving for work. Once the food was finished, it was time to put her worn leather work boots on, verify that all her items were inside her purse, and make the drive to Phil’s, where she’d spend her hours working in what she loved until it was time to return home and do it all over again.

When she’d woken up that summer morning, nothing about this day pointed to it being any different than the rest. Even with the effects of the raging storm from the night before still hanging about, the 22 year-old went through her daily routine and made it to work without any incident. But fate had a funny way of surprising people with curveballs when they least expected it… And unbeknownst to Kianna, a chance encounter with a stranger at the shop was about to change her life as she knew it.

The car ride from Scott Street to the southwest part of town, by Main and Grove, where Phil's Garage sat was filled with idle chatter. Neither Lexie nor Niles wanted to talk about the current hot topic in Edenridge because neither wanted to waste their already exasperated energy. They talked about school mostly, their friends and how things were just different outside of town. Niles shared to her how college helped him get out of his bubble, and as angry, bitter, and frustrated as he did come across last night and today, he was actually doing better than others realized. He wasn’t slipping back into the dark place that he was so eager to run off to, time and time again, when he was younger because he knew deep down that wasn’t the solution. He knew deep down that Beau was right and that he did have potential, he just needed to start believing in it.

Thinking back on that conversation where Beau said he was no saint, no one was, Niles could see the many avenues he could take when it came to his future. Whether what he saw was what he wanted was another issue altogether. Even when there is darkness creeping up at every corner in town, potential exists to counter the bad. This dreadfully long, empty life was not about doing good, to be good, it was all about living well and believing in your infinite potential. The only person you are fated to become is the person you choose to be.

Who did he want to be?

Once he left Lexie’s car, offering gas money but her refusing and telling him to not be a stranger, Niles looked up at Phil’s Garage sign and tiredly sighed. Almost there. Almost time to go home and take a goddamn nap. Strolling to the door, he swung it open. Taking his phone out to see if Caitlin texted him and still noticing there was nothing from her, he rolled his eyes and strode to the counter. No one was there. Noticing the bell, he was quick to tap it, announcing his arrival. Pocketing his phone once more, he waited a minute or two and still no one. They were likely in the back fixing up cars but he was tired and wanted to go home. He impatiently tapped the bell a couple more times. “Hello?” he called out with his modulated voice, which was caught between being crisp and mellifluous depending on his tone. Right now, he was direct and forward, not wasting any time to get someone’s attention.

What was taking them so long?

“I’m just here to pick up my bike,” he commented to the air, scanning the desk behind the counter. A black file organizer could be seen in the corner filled; beige folders lining each empty space with the initials and last names of each customer neatly written on the tabs. A set of keys rested beside the keyboard, accompanied by a purple self-defense safety keychain that included a wrist wrap, a bottle opener, pepper spray, a window breaker, a whistle, an alarm, a heart-shaped pompom and a bejeweled teddy bear lip gloss holder. Beside the mouse sat a personalized tumbler full of coffee, the name Kianna stenciled into the design in iridescent rose gold cursive lettering, while a matching stainless steel bottle stood next to the tumbler.

The curly-haired girl had been occupied in the inventory room locating a particular part to fulfill a customer’s order when she thought she heard the faint ringing of the bell from the front desk. Frowning, the woman paused the Sabrina Claudio song playing on her earbud to listen closely and find out whether she was imagining things or they actually had a customer. The confirmation of the latter came in the form of the bell being rung a few more times, followed by a slightly impatient masculine voice she didn’t recognize and whose words she couldn’t quite make out. Cursing under her breath, Kianna exited the room and hurried to the front desk, her heavy boots announcing her upcoming presence with every step.

“Hey, sorry for the wait. I was checking some stock in the back, so I didn’t hear the bell go off the first time,” Kianna apologized as she entered the room, not really paying attention to who she was speaking to until she occupied the rolling office chair by the desk. When the young woman finally looked up, her eyes locked with the small brown orbs of the man standing on the opposite side of the counter.

There was no denying that the customer gazing down at her was anything other than handsome. He had wavy brown hair with locks that fell on his forehead, thick eyebrows, and the cutest dimple in the middle of his stubbled chin. He looked to be a few inches taller than her, with a build that vouched for generous amounts of hours spent working out and brand clothing that identified him as a resident of Eastbrook or maybe even the elusive Scott Street. Something about this man tugged at Kianna’s subconscious: an invisible thread tying their lives together in a tight, timeless knot. It was a feeling she hadn’t experienced since--

A crashing tide almost knocked Niles off his feet. Everything, everywhere, all at once. The moment their eyes met, time collapsed and it was in seconds he knew he lost his entire world. There was something in those beautiful hazel eyes that made him feel like he found his compass that would lead him to the safety and warmth of a loving embrace. An embrace that would pull him inside, where everything was real, silly, and free. A place he could call his, where he could begin and end his day with, every corner laced with heartfelt memories and everlasting stories, all which led to a symphony of stars and dreams. One look and he was held captive.

Flawless caramel skin that reminded him of English Oak in spring rains. Her hair was full of body and attitude. Curly and kinky ringlets framing her sweet hearted face, cascading in a messy bun. Her beauty was bold enough to stun him in place but what elevated all of this was how she held herself. With curves of softness and a form that showed she was a hardworking girl, Niles could see caution. Even if he could swear in this moment their souls were touching, that he could feel her and she could feel him, there was something under the surface. She had fear, uneasiness, and so much pain buried deep within her, wanting to be found and cared for. She had thorns. Her heart was locked. He wondered what it would take to win her over.

An electrifying silence permeated the air as Kianna and Niles stared at each other, neither of them making a sound as their eyes remained connected. Eventually, it was her who broke the ice by discreetly clearing her throat. “So… My name is Kianna. How can we help you today?” she inquired, shifting her gaze away from the man’s to focus it on the desktop screen in front of her.

“Kianna is it?” Niles hid his desire of undressing her, both body and soul, to be in the present. To be here, with her, to get the thing he came for which was… “That’s a lovely name.” He found himself rubbing his hands together and looking around, wondering if he was making this weird by complimenting her. He was so lost in thought that he forgot to tell her his purpose of coming to Phil’s Garage. There was no need to rush this transaction, was there? He had time. “Kianna,” he repeated. “Very pretty.”

Heat immediately rose to Kiki's face. Despite not being a stranger to receiving attention from the opposite sex, it didn't make her feel any less self-conscious. Being the only female mechanic at Phil's shop meant that she sometimes received compliments from certain customers-- sometimes genuine, kind, and appreciated; sometimes revolting, uncomfortable and unwarranted. With his polite, educated behavior, the young man at the counter fell under the first category; unlike the majority of his vulgar, pushy peers that visited her place of work. It was a nice, welcome change of pace, and she couldn't help the way her heart gave a little flutter at his words.

“Thank you," she replied in her most gentle, quiet voice. “My mother chose it for me. It means 'enduring one' in Irish, and 'queen' in Persian."

“It suits you,” Niles replied instantaneously, turning his gaze back at her and watching her with a gentle softness. “Not that I know your personality or anything. I mean I’m sure you’re a queen in whatever you do… eh hem,” he backtracked, only realizing he was making things worse and putting his foot in his mouth. “My name doesn’t have a cool backstory like yours. My mom chose it because she liked it and it was an ‘N’ name, like hers. Niles. Son of Neil. My father isn’t a Neil,” he humored, chuckling to himself.

His attempt at a compliment and comedy earned him a half-smile from the young woman, who decided to return the pleasantries in earnest. “Niles.” she repeated softly, allowing the name to roll off her tongue and delicately fall from her lips. “I like it. It suits you too.”

“But yeah, that’s not why I’m here…” He tried to get the conversation back on track, not wanting to waste her time (but also wanting to waste her time so he could keep staring). Why was he here again? He had gotten so lost in her beauty that he’d forgotten his reason for being at Phil’s in the first place. “My bike.” he remembered, his mind barely able to process anything around him. “I had to leave it on Lyon. I called earlier to see if it got towed, and it did.” Dread washed over him when he realized she was likely the woman he had spoken to earlier about his motorcycle. “I’m sorry if I came across as rude. Really I had no reason to be an ass. I didn’t sleep but that doesn’t excuse my behavior so, sorry.” He didn’t remember what he said but he knew his shortness likely made Kianna feel some type of way. If he was the receiver of his own bullshit, he knew he’d be annoyed as hell, especially if it was the start of his work day and immediately, there was a rude customer.

Kianna Joy raised her eyebrows, feeling some of the magic of the moment they’d been sharing evaporate on the spot. “So that was you…” she drawled, crossing her arms in front of her chest and tilting her head to one side. So this was the man she’d snapped against and told to get some manners when she’d answered the phone first thing that morning. She should’ve known that there was no way a guy could be this charming without having some damage underneath the surface. So much for being polite and educated…

Luckily for Niles, Kianna wasn’t a rancorous type of girl. She had a kind heart, and she believed in second chances. She had heard his apology, deemed it genuine and she would be accepting it. That didn’t mean she was going to let his previous behavior go unaddressed in person, though. She would never allow a customer to speak to her in any disrespectful way-- handsome or not. “You really thought you could talk to me that way over the phone and then expect me to help you with a smile whenever you came in here?"

Should he say yeah and joke about it? Or should he say no and be humble about it? Niles decided to go the in-between route, leaning his arms on the counter, and giving a tantalizing smolder, “Maybe.” He obviously didn’t know if she’d take the joke but it was worth a shot. Walking his pointer and middle finger around the table, like a little person, he flirtatiously offered, “I could make it up to you. Take you out for some coffee.” Coffee seemed to be the gentle date that didn’t forcibly say he wanted to date her. He totally did want to date her but he had a girlfriend so he shouldn’t get too ahead of himself. “You, me, some Beau lecture, and caffeine. Could be fun.” His little man fingers found a pen and hopped on it. The pen rolled from under his two fingers, as if the little person was walking on a log. He didn’t know how long she’d be mad at him but he would try his damndest to get her to forget about it. As long as she gave him a second chance, that’s all that mattered. A clean slate with a pretty girl. Niles would love that.

The finger person trick got a little laugh out of her, but the invitation caught Kianna completely off guard. ‘Take you out’? This Niles guy wanted to take her out… Like on a date or something? That was unexpected. She could understand that maybe he felt guilty for the way he had spoken to her over the phone, but that didn’t mean he owed her anything other than the apology he’d already given her. If he really wanted to, he could always just pick up the coffee himself and bring it over to the shop for her one of these days as a truce. That would be enough. The only other possibility that Kiki could come up with that could explain why Niles wanted to ‘take her out’ was that… maybe he wanted to get to know her.

Because the idea of a guy making a move on her was scary and she didn’t want to make a fool of herself in case she was wrong (which she probably was), Kianna opted to give a non-committal response. “Maybe. But if you ever talk to me like that again, I will personally dismantle your bike myself and ship you the parts in boxes for you to put it back together again from scratch… If you can.” She warned him, arching one of her brows even higher as if to prove her point before allowing herself to break character and give Niles a closed-lipped smile. "I mean it, though! I’m dead serious. Don't be rude to me again. That wasn't cute."

“I won’t, I won’t,” Niles tried to assure her, even going the extra mile to trace his pointer finger on his chest, making a cross, “Cross my heart and hope to die. If I do say something dumb, you have permission to give me a nice hard spank.” He goofily grinned, finding it incredibly endearing in an adorable sort of way how her hazel eyes widened, her cheeks blushed and how she giggled at his last comment. Her threat wasn’t scary though because he could easily pay someone to fix his bike or buy a new bike. With that being said, he wasn’t going to ruin the vibes by saying a smartass or jackass remark.

He processed her words again and contemplated if her saying maybe meant yes for a coffee date. He needed to confirm. For all he knew, he was getting ahead of himself, hearing what he wanted to hear. “So!” He straightened his posture, running his hand through his hair with an eager glint in his stare and smug look on his face. “Was that a yes? For Coffee? You, me, Beau?” He persistently asked, hoping he wasn’t assuming and that she did want to get to know him like he wanted to get to know her. He was forward but you had to be when you were shooting for the stars and in this case the stars were a girl way out of his league. His bad day (or two) was already taking a turn for the better because he got to see Kianna’s beautiful face. “I’ll make it worth your while,” he insisted, dragging the syllables out for added drama. He mischievously wiggled his eyebrows while trying to read her expression. She just had to say the word and he would sweeten the pot. Whatever she wanted, he would grant, all she needed to do was give him a chance. “Pwease, pwetty pwease.”

The curly haired girl giggled and pursed her lips together at Niles’ antics, but hesitated to answer right away. She wanted to say yes. She wanted to be bold like her Aunt Raven, and seize this opportunity to take a leap of fate and experience a taste of what life had to offer someone as young as her. But there were so many reasons to be cautious. Among the many qualities the caramel-skinned girl possessed, recklessness wasn’t one of them. Early on, Kianna had watched her mother work hard to make sure she never knew what struggling or lacking necessities meant. In return, the girl had made a promise to herself to never give her mother any additional stresses or worries. And overall, she had been successful. For all accounts, Kianna was a model child: always followed the rules, always behaved, always worked hard for everything she had, never being ungrateful or taking anything for granted, and never, ever taking any careless chances that could hurt them. The one time she’d followed her heart instead of her head for anything other than her career had ended with tragic consequences and an ocean of heartbreak and grief… And Kianna wasn’t sure she would ever be ready to take a risk like that again.

But she would be lying if she said she wasn’t at least curious about where this invitation could lead.

"How about this: give me a few days to think about it, and I promise I’ll get back to you once I’ve made up my mind. That sound like a deal?” she asked him with a soft smile. There. A diplomatic, polite response that she hoped would buy her time to evaluate his proposal and decide whether to accept or decline it.

Business minded and far from impulsive. He liked that. He liked that a lot. She was playing hard to get and he loved a good challenge. Since she didn’t downright say no, Niles knew he already had his foot in the door. A taste of what was to come if he played his cards right. “Perfect,” he smiled with his eyes, keeping his lips still and composed. Charming with restraint. A man who knew how to hold back when needed. Pulling his phone out and opening his contacts, he casually inquired, “And your number?” Smoothly and nonchalantly, he glanced back up at her, waiting for her next move.

Kianna offered Niles a knowing smile of her own and shrugged her shoulders. "Don't worry about it. I can get yours from riiiiight here," she replied, lightly tapping the desktop screen. Can never be too careful these days. "If you give me your last name I can look you up in our system, check that the phone number is updated and on file, and make sure your bike is in our inventory."

“Sinclair,” Niles answered at the drop of a hat, his motives laid out on his sleeves. He wanted this. He wanted her to give him a chance. “And can I get your last name, Kianna?” God, her name was gorgeous. He could keep saying her name and never grow tired of it. Her name was like music to his ears and he wanted to hit replay, over and over again, like a new song he discovered and couldn’t get enough of. “Or do I have to wait for that too?” He slyly grinned, pocketing his phone and eagerly waiting to hear her soothing, yet firm voice. To hear her say hello was enough for him to forget his worries. Damn, he had it bad and he only just met her.

The young woman smiled timidly and looked away for a moment, trying to hide her demure demeanor. "It's Johnson. Kianna Johnson," she answered, shifting her eyes back to his again and feeling her heart do a cartwheel inside her chest again.

Score.

His foot was indeed in the door. Niles returned the smile, giving Kianna Johnson his undivided attention. He knew he was keeping her from doing her work but he enjoyed this too much. He enjoyed her company. He could stare at her all day and die happy because the last thing he saw was her. There was a light voice behind him clearing her voice. He didn’t even hear someone come in or was this person here this whole time? When he turned around to see who was behind him, he saw one of the Darlings. Miriam? She worked at the grocer and ran the Farmer’s market. She was holding a bottle of full synthetic oil for her car.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not interrupting something,” Mandy gleamed at the younger boy, happy to see her friend, practically a niece to her, make a friend outside of all the old people that surround her. “I have to go back to work but I need to buy this first.” Looking past Niles, Mandy’s emphatic gaze met with the girl behind the desk, her eyebrows raising curiously. This was a side of Kianna she hadn’t seen since the honeymoon stage with Landon James nearly six years ago.

As soon as Kianna heard the voice behind Niles, her smile faded away as heat rose to her cheeks, and she immediately darted her eyes in the opposite direction of her two clients. She knew what Mandy was thinking. She could see it all over the look she was giving her from behind the man. All Kianna could hope for was that the older woman hadn’t gotten the wrong idea about what she had just walked into (or had she been there all this time?), but the interaction that followed made it clear that was exactly where her mind had wandered to.

“That girl over there,” Miriam gestured to Kianna before bringing her stare back to Niles, keeping her smile coy and polite, but her tone sharp and flat, “Is a good girl. She has a lot of family so I want you to understand she has a whole team of people who would fight for her.”

Hearing Mandy speak about what a good girl she was and how she had an army of people willing to fight for her made Kiki want to hide under the counter in front of her-- and it took every bit of self-restraint to not facepalm herself. While she appreciated Miriam sticking up for her, the comment did make her nervous. The guys from the shop and Phil’s group of lifelong friends were like a second family to her. They took care of her, looked out for her, and always had her best interests at heart. But as much as she loved them, Ki did not want them to hear about this little scene when it was probably nothing.

“Got it. Good girl, don’t fuck up,” Niles was giddy on the inside. He was already meeting someone in Kianna’s circle. He took a mental note of Miriam and started to think of routes of winning her favor. If she had a big family, that must mean a long list of people to win over but that didn’t scare him in the slightest. If anything, he liked a good challenge and Kianna was worth climbing mountains for. “Won’t forget. Scouts honor.”

Mandy chuckled at his lighthearted nature. She hoped this meant well for Kianna but just in case, perhaps she needed to call an emergency family meeting. “As long as you understand.” She was sure Kianna had no idea how to move forward from Landon. This could be good for her. Maybe the crew could give her a gentle push in the right direction. A gentle push to romance. Something she still was waiting for herself.

"I'll be with you in a sec, Mandy," she apologized to the woman in hopes of culminating that conversation, nodding at her in acknowledgement before taking a seat in her desk chair. Her nimble fingers slid the mouse atop its pad and tapped away at the keyboard keys for a few seconds before Kianna found what she was looking for. Only then did she turn her eyes to Niles again, and her tone was now strictly polite and professional. “It looks like the towing company dropped your bike at our garage a few hours ago. If you go through this door right here--” she pointed at the door on her right. “--walk down the hallway and through the metal door at the end of it, you’ll be at the entrance gate of the chain link fence to the junkyard. Phil’s actually down there right now, so if you yell out his name once or twice I’m sure he’ll hear you and come get your bike out.” The brunette explained, sitting up straight in her chair and nervously tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

Damn.

This moment was coming to a close already?

“Well, Kianna, your service has been refreshing. A delight. Phil’s got a good girl working here. Definitely will consider coming back,” Niles humored, amiably gleaming at his acquaintance, while slowly making his way toward the hallway. Before disappearing, he subconsciously ran his hand through his hair and casually turned to her, “Just think about it. Coffee. Me and you.” He gently reminded her of his proposal prior to Mandy coming in. “I’d like to get to know you better… but take as much time as you need.” He could totally be patient. If it was for her, he could wait. Right? “Other than that? Thanks…” okay, now it was time to leave before he put his foot deeper in his mouth. Niles nodded in an awkward goodbye, clearly not wanting to leave. He watched Kianna shoot another nervous glance at Mandy before nodding back at him, offering him a parting half-smile before he followed her directions to where his bike would be.

Mandy simply stared at Kianna smiling, a hint of mischief gleamed in her eyes. She could see how much color this boy brought to her niece’s cheeks. They had an aunty-niece friendship not by blood but by bond. Most of the Bristol crew practically adopted Kianna as one of their own. Mandy was one out of many who loved this girl dearly. She kept quiet waiting patiently for the young girl to regain herself in no rush whatsoever. The main reason she interrupted in the first place was because she knew Kianna would be embarrassed if she realized someone was in the room during the whole flirt session with the doctor’s son. More one sided from the boy but still. So, it made most sense to make her presence known before they got too… playful.

Once the young man had departed the room, the curly-haired girl wasted no time in performing damage control. "That's--- Uh-- It's nothing," she muttered to Mandy while ringing her up for her items, making it clear she didn’t want to talk about it. But even as she downplayed what had transpired and carried on with her tasks, Kianna could still feel the special magic of her little moment with Niles Sinclair lingering around the shop for the rest of her day.

In another deviation from the norm for the two lovers, after their fun they settled down to snuggle and JP finally found his path into dreamland whilst Rye lay wide awake. While he had been preparing the surprise dinner, he’d gotten a text from Carrie- or maybe Autumn, as they were still sharing a phone- asking him to make time for Niles today. Selfishly, he’d responded that he couldn’t at the time but he would make sure to get to him tonight. He’d then promptly shoved the moment into a box and hid it in the back of his mind to focus on making JP’s favorite dish with Nina. Once the emotions and passion of their dinner had calmed and Rye was left awake listening to the resting heartbeat of his soul’s desire, however, he had time to let his anxieties get a hold of him. He let the poison sink into his veins and set his muscles alight with static as though he deserved the internal onslaught for ignoring his friend.

What if this was like before, and he wasn’t there for Niles when he needed him? What if something bad happened? His own heart rate spiked, no longer in sync with its twin and chasing to catch up with his racing thoughts. He untangled himself as gently as his suddenly shaky limbs would let him. He would absolutely hate himself if he woke JP but he couldn’t leave Niles in the box any longer. Leaving their blanket behind to keep JP covered and grabbing a free one from their lover's nest to cover his own bare skin, Rye searched for his clothes while trying to keep the strangled noise of anxiety trapped in his throat where it was clawing to get out. Fumbling through the pockets of his discarded sweatpants once he found them, he grabbed his phone and headed quietly to the bedroom before closing the door behind him and pulling up Niles’ contact to press call. While the line rang, Rye did his best to go through his breathing exercises and focus on the fact that his next therapy session was tomorrow. Distantly, he wondered if an hour was going to be enough time this go around.

Niles was about to pull a second all nighter. He should be tired but after he picked up his bike at Phil’s he couldn’t get her out of his head. When he returned home, his sisters were there, having gotten off their shift at Daylight Delicacies both doing their summer reading. Carrie was reading the Joy Luck Club and Autumn was reading The Outsiders. The moment Niles stepped into the kitchen they both perked up from their seats in the living room, looking at him expectantly. He didn’t know why they were staring at him like that but he proceeded to look through the mail, finally having time to do so. He looked through mail mostly to organize it for his father seeing how at most he’d get a letter from his college but other than that, he didn’t get much mail. Not really.

When he did discover a letter addressed to him and a letter addressed to no one, he raised an eyebrow. They were already opened so immediately he knew why his sisters were just sitting, waiting and staring at him. They were waiting for his reaction. He decided to open the one addressed to him first assuming the unaddressed letter was likely for his father. With an expression of annoyance, like ‘what the fuck is this’, he read the contents. Carrie had placed her book down, scurrying to the kitchen just in case her brother needed support. Autumn went for their dad’s liquor cabinet. Placing a piece of leftover Banoffee pie for her brother, Carrie took her seat on a stool and anxiously watched. When Autie got back from the liquor cabinet, she came with a bottle of tequila. Uncapping it, she put it beside the pie.

Now they waited.

To keep herself busy, Autie went to the sink and started washing the dishes she and her sister made before leaving to work. A couple of bowls, cups, and silverware. Not too much. When she heard crumpling of paper and Niles pulling out the cabinet where the trash can was, she turned the faucet off and grabbed a towel to wipe her hands, “You okay?” She asked.

“Are you going to be okay?” Carrie swiftly added.

To their surprise, Niles smiled, brushing off the irritation and joked, “Yeah, I’m fine. A bit long winded for a breakup letter. She lost my attention after the first paragraph.” The twins couldn’t help but laugh in relief. Their brother was going to be okay. He took it well. While they didn’t know why Niles was so happy and relieved that the trash took itself out, they did know that whatever happened while he wasn’t home must’ve been something special because his eyes gleamed with purpose and excitement, something they hadn’t seen since they were kids.

Time passed and Niles found himself lying on his bed gazing up at the ceiling, the back of his head on his left hand. He listened to Your Hand In Mine by Explosions in the Sky. The song played out of his PC speakers. For a moment, he wondered if he should’ve been wounded with the things Caitlin said but all he could think of was her. While he did feel comfort knowing he was right, and that Cece was still in love with Mika, Niles knew they could’ve gone out on better terms. Then again, he did put her in a weird place where she was too scared to break up with him in person. Well, none of that mattered anymore and it was best for him not to waste his time or energy on her. What mattered now to Niles Sinclair was deep brown eyes, bouncy curls, and caramel skin. Her smile, that she tried so hard to prevent, found a home in his head, living rent free. A beautiful woman with a matching beautiful soul. A flower that makes others bloom. Kianna. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Kianna.

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone vibrating on his nightstand. He turned to his side and reached for it. When he saw the caller ID was Rye he picked it up and put it on speaker. Leaving the phone on his stand, he returned to his position and stared back up at the ceiling, not letting the thought of Kianna exit his mental space. He could see her with a flower crown, sitting on a bed of flowers with nothing… “What up, homie? You good?”

The breath he’d been holding rushed out of him as soon as he heard his friend’s voice. His tone was…weird but certainly wasn’t angry or distraught or empty like all those times that made him worry with every second. He didn’t give himself time to recover, not wanting Niles to realize just how close he had been to a complete meltdown by the simple thought of his best friend in a hospital bed again. “I’m good bro, just got a soft nudge from Autie and Carebear earlier but I’ve been tied up until now. Everything alright on your end?”

Ah. They must’ve contacted Rye before he got a chance to read the letter. Niles smiled to himself, amused at the fact the first and only time a girl ever dumped his ass was through a letter. Karma worked in mysterious ways. Karma chose to come in the form of a meek redhead. Karma was a little bitch that jumped from guy to guy instead of healing and getting her own self together. Once Niles read the second letter, he was able to put two and two together of Cece’s timeline from David to Mika to him to Mika again (likely this very day). He learned a lot in the course of a month, especially the day they went official, and it was all laughable that she was the one he decided to go public with. Natalia was right and he should’ve known better. “Do you want the spark notes version or the full story?”

“Usually when your sisters get ahold of me it’s something important, so tell me the whole thing if you want, or if you want to blow by it I can start cracking jokes at any second,” Rye replied, shifting the phone to his other ear and trapping the cell between there and his shoulder. This freed his hands and he instantly dropped them to his knees to tap out a rapid beat, the excess energy from his earlier anxiety sitting just beneath the surface and struggling for a way out now that the perceived crisis was averted. “No offense but the message had me expecting worse. Not that I’m not happy that you aren’t! Just, ah, yeah?”

“Oh if I wasn’t in a good headspace I probably would’ve taken today's events poorly,” he unintentionally chuckled, knowing well enough all the people in his life had every right to panic. “Well, yesterday I was moody. You know this. Got some coffee though, and Mr. Beau set me right. Because that’s what Mr. Beau does.” There was a brief pause before he continued the tale of his past two days. “I’m going home right? And then I see at a distance, Lexie Davies is dragging an unconscious Clayton Costigan. So yeah, I had to stop and help.” Sitting up, he reached for the phone and got off his bed to turn down the volume of his computer. “Let’s fast forward a bit, I get no sleep because it was monsoon weather last night and I’m worried about Clay. Turns out, he’s been on a case for the recent letters. It personally impacted him because it involved David and that whole bad period when the town turned against him and him accidentally drowning in the lake. You following?” Niles stopped for a second, changing the volume setting of his PC, wondering if he was telling too much or if he should keep going.

“I’m- yeah, I’m following,” Rye said, staring into the darkness of the sparse bedroom with both eyebrows making a mad dash for his hairline. That explains Clay’s temporary disappearance and the ripple effect it had in causing Avery worry on top of the events of this morning. He’d noticed the woman’s worried glances at her phone while they were together but he was more focused on keeping her grounded- while also pumping her up a bit- over the kiss with Jamie. After that it had been the talk about JP and his mind had been engulfed with ideas of what he could do for his lover for the rest of the day. Here he’s finding out the guy had been beat down and saved by Lex Davies and his best friend. He hadn’t even known Lex was back in town, hell the last time he’d seen her was Sunshine sneaking her into his dorm at a serpent party a week before she got sent away, but apparently she was back.

It was kind of ridiculous; all these people, including himself, coming back home recently just to fall headfirst back into the drama and insanity that had woven its way into the foundations of the town, scorching its very soul into a black abyss that could only drag its inhabitants closer to hell with each day that crawled by. He could easily find it in himself to hate this town as much as his darling JP adored it, but he chose to view it through his lover’s eyes as often as he could, knowing it was always better to see the people and their light than the shadows that hung off them all like cloaks of misery. It wasn’t an easy task, and on the hardest days he found himself completely enamored with the beauty that was JP’s heart, and his ability to have space in it for anyone. It scared him too, because he knew how easily one could get hurt like that.

Avery was like JP, and if Clay wasn’t alright then she definitely wouldn’t be, so the first thing he needed to ask for peace of mind was, “Before we go any further, is Clay ok? I know Avery was worried about him earlier and it’d be great to know she’s received some news since she left MSM.”

“Yeah he’s fine. I wasn’t there for the finale but I heard Kylee’s show and read the news articles. He should be at the hospital,” Niles reassured, going from his computer to his window to peer outside. Scott Street was a helluva place. Edenridge in general was a hellmouth and he was fortunate his recklessness hadn’t caught up with him and his family. He was a dumbass especially during his highschool years and he could only imagine how Charlie’s letters could harm those he loved dearly because of his bad choices and negative mindset. Darkness wasn’t on the edge of town. Edenrdige had far too many monsters to be anything beyond a voidless abyss.

Home is what Edenridge was, with so much dark it can swallow you whole. There were people like Rye who wanted to lift spirits up and heal others. Niles knew his best friend needed to reflect and focus on himself. This town sucks the life out of people who care too much and Gavriel Phillips-Shomers cares too much. He always had since the day he moved here. He could deny all he wanted to, even say JP’s heart was more gold than his, but Niles knew what separated him from his friend. One had empathy beyond belief, where it made him anxiety ridden, the other was as selfish as they come, only caring for himself and his own.

Simultaneously, Niles opened his phone and started with his Instagram, erasing Caitlin Cleary completely from his world, with no hesitation and no remorse, “Maybe call your mom? Just to make sure. That dude is stubborn as hell. He refused to go to the hospital until he figured things out. And he did. Thankfully, he did. It’s a doozy though.”

“This is what I get for not having socials or listening to podcasts,” Rye grumbled, stopping the rapid rhythm on his knees just long enough to shift his phone back to his other ear and shoulder before resuming his drumming. He hasn’t had any social media since highschool, content with JP showing him things occasionally off of his own and unwilling to fall back into the rabbit hole of performance and perfection that most of those platforms were built on. But this, this is what he got for being selfish and focusing on himself for the afternoon; he missed all notice of the events that took place while he was cooking and setting up his and JP’s little floor picnic and was once again behind. Now instead of comforting Niles on whatever the story was leading up to, he was focusing on the story itself and processing the information he was receiving. Real stand up human being, he was. “I’ll uh, I’ll call ma soon, check in. Gotta check in with Danny too while I’m at it,” another pause filled the silence before he continued, “So…what was it? The doozy.”

“Well, my ex,” Niles nonchalantly continued, “By the way, Caitlin broke up with me by leaving a letter in my mailbox. She tried to politely call me a piece of shit because I called her out on still having feelings for Mikhail.” He would need to work on repairing his pride. She wasn’t worth the energy to get bitter over. And yet, the more he was erasing Cece from his socials, now onto Facebook, he couldn’t help but think how despicable she was and how she gave grief a bad name, jumping from dick to dick because woe is me. Stupid bitch. “She was David’s girl. The letters were not from Charlie Decker’s journal. Jamie O’Hara had love letters Caitlin wrote David and wanted to call the town out for being judgemental pricks when there were more cases of our class fucking older kids. For once in her life, she gained the courage to speak on Kylee’s radio show to air out the past and tell the town to fuck off. You know what’s funny?”

Niles changed his relationship status to single and ranted, “I was always against people talking shit about David. I got into fights because people would say the dumbest shit about him. Who would’ve known I’d get with his girl years after? And the sad thing is, his name will forever be dragged into the mud even if it was Cece who had this kid crush on him. Bet she threw herself all over him to get what she wanted. That innocent game she plays? That’s a fucking lie.”

Ok, color him surprised, that was not a turn he was expecting this story to take. Sure, he'd been pushing for Niles to think first and break up with her in the first place, but his interest had laid in the mental health of both parties, much as it had when everything went down between Niles and Natalia. Niles sounded angry now, but still nowhere near the levels that would have Gavriel worried, so he let his friend vent and process in his own way while he spoke. Gavriel had no attachment to Caitlin Cleary, but to know that the whole situation had been surrounding one of his classmates and an upperclassman at the time…well, Rye wasn’t exactly one to judge sleeping with someone older than him in highschool, and there wasn’t even anything romantic between him and those flings. To know that it wasn't an absolute child like the rumors had made David’s crime out to be was as relieving as it was disheartening to know just how far from the truth word of mouth had gotten. Once again this town seemed to cause its own ghost story only to feed off the secrets chained in people’s closets until they were forced out into the light. Rye hated the drama of it all.

Rye knew Niles wasn’t completely innocent in the story he’d created together with Caitlin, but he also knew that he couldn’t have done it alone. One doesn’t just stay with Niles Sinclair because they think they can handle it, they had to prove that through numerous trials. Rye wasn’t an idiot, Niles was an asshole to most people. There was a reason that Rye understood so well the dynamics between Decky and Sonny Cernis. Some people only made sense to a select few, close ones strong enough to whether the storms as they battered against their strength of will. Some people were hard to understand, and even harder to love. That didn’t mean no one could love them, and it didn’t mean no one new would ever try.

He didn’t even know how to begin processing the still having feelings for Mikhail bit. Just how many Northies had secret relationships or encounters with Southies- and Serpents in particular- in this town? It’s not like he didn’t know it happened, of course it happened, but it seemed that everywhere you turned a new secret ‘taboo’ relationship was popping up and causing strife. Their lives were beginning to feel like a soap opera.

“Okay buddy,” Rye finally responded, fingers finally stilling as he reached up to secure his phone in his hand. “So the David letters are cleared up, Caitlin is eighty-six’d from your life, but you’re still doin’ good, you vibed through the breakup letter- which, seriously, a letter? Why? Whatever- because you were in a good mood,” He quirked an eyebrow up as he stared into the dark room. “Care to walk me through why? Sounds like there’s good news somewhere in this story.”

“Might be too early to tell you about this one, you’ll roll your eyes and say I’m jumping the gun,” Niles mused, having finished obliterating Cece from his socials. Returning to his bed, taking a seat, he was back to thinking about the good Mechanic girl working at Phil’s. He smiled to himself when he replayed their interaction and how there was a hint of blush on her cheeks when Miriam Darling interrupted them.

God, he had it bad and he barely knew the girl.

The meeting of their souls was random and unexpected but because of that, he didn’t take the Caitlin business as poorly as he could’ve. Instead, he had a silver lining in the dark cloud that constantly followed him wherever he went. Instead, he had hope, excitement, and a purpose beyond himself. Instead, he had someone he wanted to get to know. Someone he wanted to love. More so than he’s ever loved any ex before him. Someone he wanted to cherish. Someone he needed to be better for because the idea of not having her in his life made him feel… lost. Kianna looked at him, saw him, and his world shifted, never to be the same again. How could one girl hold so much power over him when all he was able to do was get a name and a I’ll-think-about-it response? “I don’t even understand it, if I’m being totally honest.”

“Well I’ll push it at a later date then,” Rye responded, rolling his eyes anyway. “Give you time to convince me that you’re not jumping the gun, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah. How about you? How’s your day been? I can’t be the only one with a dramatic life.” Niles asked, relieved that Rye didn’t press on about the special someone he met today. If he gets that coffee date, maybe he’ll tell Rye about her. Until then, he needed to be patient and wait until she was ready. “You and JP still going strong?”

"I've been…out of sync with him a lot lately," Rye admitted honestly, never one to claim perfection in areas that could use improvement. Not with those important to him. "Avery Kaine gave me some much needed insight earlier, and that's why I was tied up. We talked a lot earlier, and I definitely feel better about things than I did before. I know I take on a lot but I wanted to let JP know that I could still be there for him when he feels like he can't do it alone. I really love him, you know? And I just wanted to show him. And hey, I know how to make his favorite dish from scratch now, so bonus," he was relaxing again, the energy finally settling beneath his skin as he and his fellow doctors' child caught up on each other's lives. "I don't think you really want to hear about the rest of the night though, I always respect that boundary with you. Danny has no such privilege."

At least Rye was finally getting to a position of peace. Finding balance and moderating all things in their lives was neither of their strong suits. Niles was selfish and Rye was selfless. That meant Rye always gave too much and Niles took what was his. Then again, both were incredibly hard on themselves and rarely saw their own selves for what they were. No matter how much of an asshole Niles was, he could do the right thing. Today alone showed his potential of walking a path that was just and good. No matter how much of a helper Rye can be, he could also do the wrong thing. There was something innately selfish about feeding off others fulfillment and happiness, doing good deeds and healing the world, instead of yourself.

For their fortunate lives, they were never fully satisfied and that likely had to do with how they processed and moved forward. Their mindsets. Darkness transformed them in different ways. Darkness was their own abyss. One boy became ruthless, the other boy desperate. Yet somehow fate made them friends and regardless of their faults, they made each other better. They balanced each other. They were each other’s mirrors.

Relationships weren’t easy and even if on the surface, JP and Rye seemed to be stronger than most couples in the town of Edenridge, they still had their mountains to climb. They still had to work on their trust. “You can tell me as little or as much as you want, but if it’s about sex, I’m good. I know you two fuck like rabbits.”

There was rummaging in the fridge on Rye’s end, signaling that JP had woken up from his slumber. Not even a full hour or so. Maybe two if Rye was lucky. “Before I let you go — I just realized what time it is — my sisters are having a pool party this Saturday. I could really use some company. It’s going to fucking suck having to watch all these kids do dumb shit. I hate parties.”

Rye tilted his head and shifted himself away from the door in case JP tried to enter now that he'd woken up, a smirk on his face at Niles' comment on their sexual habits. He wasn't going to deny it either.

"Yeah, I can be there man, you don't have to face a bunch of rabid teens alone," he promised with a fond eye roll, leaning back on his hand now that he was facing the bedroom door. "I can't exactly play lifeguard well but I can hand out water and trick the ones that are too drunk to swim into going inside for food. I don't know when exactly I went from party slut to party mom but I'm here for it."

I'm here for you, went left unsaid, as Niles already knew Rye had his back no matter what. Given that they've only spent a combined like six hours together since Rye got back to town, it would be good to spend time with him again, even if there would be a swarm of drunk teens doing their damnedest to wear out the two older boy's first aid ability.

The door creaked open and Rye looked up as the light came streaking into the room before it was blocked by the silhouette of his lover. He smiled up at JP and sat forward, fixing the blanket around his waist and patting the fabric on his knee invitingly, offering entry to the insomniac as he finished up his phone call.

"Stay sane until Saturday bro, and I'm glad you're okay. I'll see you then."

Loneliness can do a lot of things to different people. It can drive them to reflect on recent choices in their life. It can give them the space to think, to dream up new paths and arcs that their story can take. In the wrong hands, it can drive them to seek comfort in substances that hold short-term solutions with long-term consequences. It’s all a matter of the mindset one enters that appointment with loneliness that determines what one gets out of it.

Far too often in the past couple years, Jillian O’Brien had opted for door number three in that scenario. Unable to cope with the loss of friends, family and children not given a chance to become children, she ignored those she had left in favor of poisoning herself to try to forget everything that happened. She was damn good at it, too. However, it had been a while since she truly had time by herself to take another look at what loneliness had to offer her. With her relationship with Miss Midnight in full bloom, the two had become even more inseparable, enjoying the full benefits of each other’s company with an energy that Jillian hadn’t summoned since high school. As Mei Ramsey hit the airwaves for a special edition of Dawn Patrol with Kylee Grimm however, Jillian found her thoughts drifting back to those halcyon days.

Being the odd girl out of their triad for the broadcast at Absolute Sound, she remained on the couch of the rechristened Ramsey-O’Brien estate and instead had the tower tuned to 99.1 FM. The rebuilt vintage piece of tech, with radio and cassette options below a turntable that allowed for vinyl enjoyment, was rarely ever turned off On The Block. Who needed Boston stations when Eden knew Eden best anyway? Today the notification that explained where her girlfriend had darted off to this morning forced her to sit and absorb everything that Mei and Kylie were going to get out of their special guest. The one Jillian figured the intrepid Miss Grimm would coax the answers for the Dear David letters out of. The one the former head of the Clovers pointed Kylee to. Her fellow Foundling redhead, Caitlin Cleary.

She sighed as the build up began. In her heart of hearts, she knew it was CeCe. While Jillian had scattered her ashes wherever she liked in her undergrad years, CeCe never had an interest in any of the social politics of ranking the available boys. There was only one for her. And then when she left the squad soon after David’s passing, it wasn’t hard to see what the stress of the Duke’s death did to her. It had to be a great relief to be able to finally unleash it all and set the record straight.

As CeCe detailed what had happened; Jamie’s single-minded desire to restore her brother’s name, the letter writer trying to prove that he didn’t deserve the reputation, Caitlin finally confirming it was her all along, all Jillian could do was sit there and feel the growing pit that the loneliness often brought with it before she had Mei to help stop the erosion. Kylee and Mei had said this broadcast was about justice, and Jill was certain all her demons were coming to prosecute her.

When Caitlin talked about the rumors that had spread regarding David O’Hara and exactly what he was doing, Jillian knew she had more than played her part. She was head of the cheerleading squad, she was looked to as a beacon in the halls of Edenridge. The thought of a male student taking advantage of a younger female was abhorrent, and so she helped spread the word that David was excommunicated as a social presence. She knew Mei wasn’t innocent either, cries of “The Diddler” ringing out when David was brought up before, but Mei was now helping bring sunlight to the murky waters of the past. All Jillian could do was sit, hanging over the pit as CeCe rattled off exactly what David had been called.

She had uttered all of them. Monster and Rapist were definitely in her arsenal, the weaponized words now inflicting pain on her soul. David was far from her only victim. She made sure Quinton Woods knew exactly where he stood once he fucked up with Mei and hurt her deep. She turned Emily Carano into a pariah for her snooping and her weird social relationships and her attack on Mei. She destroyed anyone who sympathized with Charlie Decker following the shooting. Looking back, it felt like she went after anyone who hurt Mei Ramsey. "Maybe I should have realized how in love I was with Mei a lot earlier."

Then Mei started talking again, and Jill’s heart sank further.

Hearing Mei admit that not only should the Diddler have never earned that nickname, but she herself had sex with a senior during that freshman year, Jillian felt even worse for unleashing the hounds on the coach’s son. CeCe wasn’t even the lone cheerleader involved in such a relationship. Sure, Mei looked to justify it, but it still didn’t stand to reason to dogpile on David without the specifics. And her fellow redhead made a lot of sense. Jillian wasn’t even that girl in freshman year, but when Allison died and her father got the cancer diagnosis, everything just started hurting. It wasn’t a skeleton, lots of people had those, the Aviles family likely literally had them… and there she went again. There was no reason to think hurtful thoughts about that family. But the instant reaction to lash out was there. The O’Briens may have turned their back on Scott Street, preferring to live more in the middle ground between North and South, but Jillian definitely picked up the mentality. Hell, Grace was still marinating in that method of coping with problems.

Jillian’s thoughts were swirling, and they were creating a whirlpool inside that pit. "Did I deserve everything?" She couldn’t even contain them any more, they were just spilling out. "Did I deserve to lose everyone? Lose my child? Just to feel how David and all those others felt? …I’m a monster."

As Caitlin discussed the pressures of carrying a famous name, she knew she fell under that umbrella. Kylee had sprung the same question on Jillian during her own grill session. But the O’Brien girl was in the swirls now. Everything CeCe said about David could easily be said about her. Allison’s successor, even over Lanie. Born leader, pride of the family, headed for big things. Maybe law school, maybe politics. None of it happened. Couldn’t even be a housewife without failing at the first hurdle. Failing to protect her child. David’s fight was done. Jillian now felt like she was right back in the boxing ring against all these negative emotions Mei helped her fight before.

And what of Mei? How long would it be until Mei got fed up with her? Until Jill did something to tick her off? Until the lack of money becomes too much and they can’t make it work? Sure, the Ramseys seem like a fine family. Similar to what she remembered at home, with Reagan filling Grace’s role. But she wasn’t them. She was the fallen interloper. Jillian was going to be the afterthought, much as she was to Caitlin when Miss Cleary talked about those in the community. And rightfully so.

Mei was Mei in the closing statements, but Jillian couldn’t hear them. She was too far under. "I don’t deserve to be happy." Miss Midnight wasn’t here to offer the assurances from before that got the pair through the interview with Kylee and Adam. Now there was only the Ashes remaining, and the whirlpool was swallowing her whole. "I can’t repay Mei, or CeCe, or David, or my family or anyone… I’m a failure of a person." She tried to hoist herself off the couch, with the music now wafting over Caitlin’s parting shot, but her body felt like it was made of lead. "I just bring pain. I bring pain to the town. Mike…" The light was fading. Doubts that she thought about in those dark days when she was told the baby was lost. Was Mike right to treat her like that? Like a pinata if she couldn’t perform what she needed to do? "I can’t fix it…" A phrase she uttered often after Mike unleashed his anger upon her. A phrase that finally crept into her lexicon after Charlie Decker shot up the school. She fixed things before. Now… even with the way things were going, was it really fixed?

Her legacy was a mess of a person. Even if she did listen to CeCe to ignore the legacy, what was she? A hostess at a hotel? Potentially, if that was even a thing and not just a stranger trying to sound like a big shot?

Maybe if she still had insurance, Jillian would have seen a therapist for this by now. There was some level of stress disorder affecting her. Bipolar disorder didn’t run in her family, as far as she knew. Not that she was thinking about that now. She was thinking of somewhere to escape to.

That third door was always open, but the options were limited. There was beer, but the pain needed to be dealt with NOW. Beer or mixed drinks weren’t going to do it. She needed vodka, but there was none to be had. The last of it fueled the Afterlife afterparty before Kylie delivered her news. The redhead couldn’t stay in this apartment. She felt like she didn’t belong. She could hear her phone buzzing on the couch. She didn’t want to answer anyone. She wanted to get away.

And so she did. Her car keys were right there. The CR-V was still in the parking lot. She was dressed up… enough. Shorts and an oversized tee still worked. She wouldn’t need them for very long.

Dealing with negative emotions in a healthy manner after times of trouble is tough even with support on offer. Trying to tackle it alone requires courage, conviction and self-assurance. There may be people in Edenridge who could handle such a thing, maybe just making their way out of Absolute Sound right at the moment the lock turned on the apartment door.

But Jillian O’Brien ran.

In the week since he returned to the town he once called home and after an 8-week stint at a rehab facility in Boston, Hiroshi didn’t know how to feel about being back. He didn’t know what to feel. For the entire week, he felt numb (for a lack of better words). Just a short few months ago, he still had everything going for him. He was about to finish up his final year at MIT. He was going to graduate, be someone who his family could be proud of: his mother, his father, Monica, and Matilda. Everyone he felt like he had ever disappointed, graduating with that degree from such a prestigious school would make up for all of his shortcomings that he had in his life.

But he couldn’t get a handle on a growing problem. It made him erratic. Act meaner than Ross was ever normally like. To those who knew him before his addiction, he was a sweet person, but whether from stress, the pills, or just a toxic chemical solution of both, he became somebody nobody recognized. He first had an intervention from his friends at MIT and when that didn’t work, his family got involved. They staged a more aggressive intervention, one that actually worked. There were hard truths stated. Some he knew on some level, but others were a lot harder to swallow than most of the pills he had been shoving into his body in the past couple of years.

It resulted in a do or die ultimatum. His life was out of control and this was the last resort. And even though he was receptive to the process at the time, being back after just a week, it saved his life. Rehab saved his life and helped him get to the root of the issue of his addiction. Why did he start using? What made him turn to it? He couldn’t cop out and say that he wanted to focus for school and be the best. That wasn’t owning up to anything. He couldn’t heal unless Ross stared it into the face and he did. It was the most terrifying experience in his life, but Ross acknowledged the real reasons why he first turned to it. Why he kept going back to that oni and embracing it, submerging himself in it.

When it all came down to it, Ross felt like a disappointment to himself and to his family by not being the best. He put too many expectations on himself. And it all started in high school. The first person whose name wasn’t Takahashi that he hurt was Nadine Navarro.

Ross was horrible to her and even more so the last time he saw her. How was he supposed to make that right? In addition, Ross heard some truly horrific news. He was staying with a friend at a Kori Plaza apartment until he could get on his feet. Through some of his family and generally others that he surprisingly had good faith with, he heard about Nadine’s father, Reymond. His phone wouldn’t stop blowing up about it. About how he suffered a “work-related health problem”. Eventually the group chats that he was lurking talked about it in further detail about it being a stroke.

What should Ross do with this information? Was he someone that Nadine wanted to hear from? The last impression he left on her was far from perfect. He made her cry and that will be an image that has haunted his sobriety for two months and especially in the week since he returned. He needed to make amends, but part of him felt genuine pain for Nadine and maybe this could be the start of rebuilding a bridge with her in some way. He had to make the first step. He knew he had to. If nothing else, Ross needed to do it for himself so he could tell himself he wasn’t going to run away from these problems that plagued his soul.

So in a series of text messages, Ross took that step.

Nadine
Hey..Nadine. It’s Ross. Not sure if you still have my number saved or not… (1 of 5)
But I heard about your dad. I’m really sorry. About everything…If there’s anything I can do… (2 of 4)
What am I saying? I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, much less hear from. (3 of 4)
But, if you ever wanted to get some coffee, talk about it. Or you can just block my number right now. You owe me nothing, but I just thought I’d reach out. (4 of 5)
Anyway, if I hear back from you, call or text me anytime. Or if not, then I understand.
Ross. (5 of 5)

His heart started to beat like crazy. He hadn’t felt this kind of high since he was actually high. There was no better high for a recovering addict than doing the right thing and attempting to make amends.

Having finished cooking and after making sure her father got some food in his system, Nadie put away the breakfast and lunch she used as a distraction while she waited for her sister’s arrival. Both her father and sister were now sound asleep in their rooms and she was left to herself to either think or game. Surprisingly, Lolly wasn’t online. That was… weird because Lolly was always online. Amity was a busy girl and had a strict streaming and gaming schedule, so Nadie knew when to expect her fiery, chaotic Lyon friend. Marco had been busy as of late too and that was likely due to him getting in a relationship. He wasn’t the best liar and the last time they all gamed together, Lolly could hear a boy in the background. She immediately interrogated Marco and in time he pleaded the fifth, which was enough for the three girls to learn that their dear friend was no longer on the market.

With no close friends to play with, Nadie started up Sims to brainlessly play ‘house’ with her longest lasting family in the game. As she waited for the screen to load, she grabbed her phone to text Lolly to make sure she was okay or if the girl actually passed out at her desk. Before she could get to her friend’s name, she was suddenly bombarded by text messages. When she saw who it was from, having never gained the courage to block his number, her heart sank. He was simply named ‘Ross’ in her phone and now that she actually could read his name, feelings of the past flooded her senses.

Why was he messaging her?

Placing the phone down, not reading his messages, she leaned in her gaming chair, clasped her hands together and placed her lips against them, deep in thought. If Daisy found out he contacted her she would lose her mind. Was it worth getting her heart broken again? She never did hate him. Not really. What they had in highschool was… strange, but deep down, she knew she admired him. He was the smartest person she ever knew and that pushed her to keep studying and trying her best to match him in all subjects. They were competitive rivals, not enemies but on graduation day it made her realize that the idea of friends she had inside her head was all one sided.

He hated her.

She could feel tears well up in her eyes. Nadie was already dealing with so much and she had no one to lean on. Her squad, the Smile Riot Gremlins, they all thought she had everything together. If anything, they needed her and she couldn’t burden them with her silly insecurities and imperfections. Her sister had moved to the Philippines and after the shooting, there was a fire in Daisy’s eyes that Nadie would never want to hold back. Her mom, Jaya, couldn’t stand her for choosing her father over her but in Nadie’s head, it wasn’t even like that. Her decision to stay in the states wasn’t about which parent was better or not. It was about not leaving her father alone and not losing the small group of friends she did have. Edenridge was her home. Sure, she loved her culture, she loved her roots, and she loved her mom but leaving Edenridge… that just wasn’t something she wanted to do.

At the time she made that decision, she thought she could balance college, take care of her workaholic dad, run her mom’s cleaning business she left behind, and still have some sort of social life even if it was mostly in the virtual world. It turns out young Nadie was far too ambitious and she burnt out, fast. Her life now consisted of keeping up with the house, making sure her father remembers to eat, still running the cleaning business that she’s pretty sure is falling straight to the gutter with only the Quinns left as employees, and… she dropped out. She was trying to get a PhD in Computer Science. She was a smart girl and IT was a stable career path but it all became too much. So, she sat down with her father and he said it was okay for her to take a break and focus on her mental health. Her mother didn’t like that, of course. And from that point on, she hadn’t been back to college since.

The unrealistic expectations her mother had on her always seemed to put her between a rock and a hard place. Nothing she ever did was good enough. She could never win against her mom. Eventually, Jaya did come to terms that her daughter would stay with Reymond and decided to use that to her advantage to keep Navarro Cleaning running. Nadine Navarro was barely staying afloat and all she had was her gaming friends to make her feel like she was worth something. She was good at hiding behind a mask but even strong people need hands to hold and shoulders to cry on.

“Stop it,” Nadie scolded herself, wiping the tears that started to trail down her cheeks. She needed to get a grip. Ross was probably just trying to troll her or something. If she was that afraid of him messaging her, she would’ve blocked him a long time ago. Her eyes went back to the phone, his messages waiting for her. Why didn’t she block him? Another long minute or two passed. This was ridiculous. All she had to do was ignore him and be done with it. Why couldn’t she just move on? Controlling her breathing, giving herself an internal pep talk, she reached for the phone and opened up his messages, finally reading it.

Her mask was completely gone as her eyes trailed down the thread. Frowning deeply, she stared at every sentence, every word, and every period and felt a deep ache in her chest. He sounded like he wasn’t doing good, like this act in itself took a lot of courage to do. He sounded like he needed help. He sounded like he needed her.

“What are you even saying?” Nadie asked herself out loud. “Ross doesn’t need you. He never needed you.” Her phone was back down on her desk. “Why… why should I?” Still, Nadie knew that ignoring him was going against her nature and that he deserved a second chance, if that’s what he was seeking, no matter how much he did hurt her. One of her faults was being too forgiving and maybe this was one of those times where she should block and ignore, for her own sake. If she did respond, would he hurt her again?

Grumbling to herself, Nadie went against her better judgment and picked up her phone again. Throwing all logic out the door, she texted back:

Ross
Are you free now?

There was nearly no hesitation. Less than three minutes and Ross sent another series of text messages.

Nadine
Yes. I’m free now! (1 of 2)
Is there a place you would like to meet up at? Could be in public if that’s what you’d prefer. Or whatever you like! (2 of 2)

Ross
I need to get ready… (1 of 2)
Beau’s in 20. (2 of 2)

Ross was out of his friend’s apartment. At a corner store just half a mile away, past Lyon Park. His cravings were more than just out of the anxiety he was feeling. It was old habits coming to say hello. In rehab, he learned how to quell that particular thirst with something sweet. So he got about five twinkies. The cashier gave him a dirty look and he fibbed, saying he was getting them for a couple friends. Something about how eating five twinkies by yourself just seemed odd to some people. He had one hell of a sweet tooth growing up, but now it was to put his cravings to pop a pill - any that numbed pain - with the spongy goodness with a cream filling.

As he exited the store, his phone buzzed and he saw Nadine was actually willing to see him. He wasn’t a religious man - not in any sense - but someone above was looking out for him. Deep down, Ross didn’t feel like he deserved a second chance. How could he bring himself to think that? He hurt Nadine to the point of tears. That was the worst part of it all. He remembered exactly what he said to her. It came to him when sobriety officially did. Unlike the past where he would take a couple antidepressants that he scored rather easily from a dealer that lived in the same dorm he did, Ross was forced to face what he had done. Rehab was supposed to be about healing and he did somewhat, but nothing could heal him of his guilt.

Not even the second chance Nadine was seemingly giving him.

It took him a few minutes to exit the abyss that was his mind, but Ross finally texted back.

Nadine
Heading there now!

There was no turning back now. As soon as he crossed the tracks, Ross had a lot to think about. What would he say? Should he even say anything? Just…so many thoughts going through his mind right now. Too many thoughts to even it out, so he just focused on getting to Beau’s as soon as possible. The last thing he wanted was to be late to what might possibly be the most important (and equally as terrifying) meet up in his life.

Since she lived at Pleasantview, Nadine was only five minutes away from Cafe Rochambeau. She took ten minutes to freshen up, tiptoeing back and forth from her bedroom to the bathroom that was right beside Daisy’s room. She didn’t want him to comment on her dark circles so the first thing she did was wash her face and do her make up. When she was done with that, she spent the next six minutes throwing an outfit together and putting it on. Two minutes to do her hair. One minute to spare where he would hopefully be there waiting for her. She wasn’t planning on getting there on time. The least he could do was wait until she was ready and now she was. Nervous and ready to see the boy that hurt her in highschool.

Quietly, Nadine exited her apartment, leaving the two sleeping people to rest, hoping she didn’t make too much noise to wake them up. Truth be told, she couldn’t believe she was doing this. Her heart was in the driver’s seat leading her to a boy she knew she had conflicted feelings for. It was time to meet her tormentor. Man, she was in over her head. Daisy was going to be so disappointed in her when she found out and Nadie knew: Daisy would find out.

Ross had already found himself in a booth and with no twinkies remaining. Taking the journey in the state he was in had made him hungry. His anxiety always triggered his hunger and even though they were empty calories, they did the job. Not like he came to Rochambeau with the intention of eating anything. As he was right now, even if Mr. Beau offered him anything, he wouldn’t know what he might want. He sat in the booth, hands on the table, fingers interlocked with each other and just stared into the distance of the other side of the booth. Pondering. Thinking about what he would say when Nadine showed up.

Yeah, what can you say, Ross?

He was the one who reached out first. He was the one who texted her and set everything in motion. “Maybe this was a mistake after all…” Just as he had half-decided he wasn’t going to go through with this, he heard the bell above the door ring and there she was. And whether it was the fact she was actually here or how she looked even more beautiful than he had remembered, Ross parked it, frozen in place with literally nowhere to go and nothing he could do but wait for the moment of truth to come in the form of his high school rival.

The moment she stepped into the cafe the smell of warm, baked goods and coffee filled her nostrils. She didn’t indulge in dessert often, constantly reminded by her friends that gamers have unhealthy habits, but today, maybe she could treat herself. She didn’t want to overeat or her mother would comment on her weight but the cafe smelt delicious and she didn’t want Ross to think she was nervous. She was, but he didn’t need to know that.

Burying her nerves, she found Ross sitting and staring, she waved at him and smiled, before making her way to her former English teacher, “Hi, Mr. Beau. Is that your ma’s Beignets I’m smelling?”

“Miss Navarro!” Beau greeted the young, Filipino beauty with his usual toothy smile. He dusted his sausage like fingers on his apron after placing down a jar of strong cinnamon and turned to the main point of the counter. “It is always a pleasure to see one of my favorite valedictorians enter my shop and humble me with their presence.” Nadine had always been a fantastic student and a pure pleasure to teach. Antoine remembered her speech and just how moved he was by her words. He also remembered how difficult it initially was for her thanks to a certain other student of his, who happened to be sitting in a nearby booth. “And yes, your nose is right. You are smelling the Lord’s second greatest gift to us. The first being love, of course.”

He leaned down on his elbows as his chestnut eyes drifted over to Ross. Such a talent, such potential. It was a great tragedy that the young man had fallen deep into the throes of addiction. Though from what Beau had heard, Ross was slowly climbing out of that fissure steeped in darkness and was on the way back towards the sunlight and sobriety. “What are you having, Miss Navarro? The gentleman in booth three has already covered the cost.”

“Well,” Nadie took a moment to look over her shoulder back at Ross, who still looked dumbfounded. Clearing her throat, she brought her attention back to Beau, interlocked her fingers together, and politely answered, “I was thinking a half a dozen Beignets so me and my…” she hesitated, not really knowing what to consider Ross at this time. A friend? An associate? An acquaintance? “...peer could have some leftovers to take back to our families. And two hot cocoas. Please.” As she looked away from Ross and straight at her teacher, she averted her gaze. Although her anxiety and fear was buried behind a mask, someone as wise as Beau could see right through her. Nadie didn’t know if she was doing the right thing but at this point, she was already here and couldn’t turn back. She needed to commit and make sure her poker face was on point.

“You got it, Mon Cherie.” Beau reached to the side and picked up some tongs with one hand and one of the many wicker baskets that Colleen made in her spare time. As he began to fill the container with his mothers famous Beignets, he again watched the body language of both Ross and Nadine. Their rivalry was one that stretched for years, four years that he had seen at least. Hell, he and principal Payne, rest his soul, had a running dollar bet as to whether they would get married. If they ever did, Antoine would leave a dollar and change at the poor man’s grave.

“There ain’t no need to be nervous, Miss Navarro.” Beau began as he placed the basket down and began to mix up the drinks. The steam from the milk frother began to rise up from behind the counter whilst the former teacher watched its temperature. “Mister Takahashi is in the exact same boat as you and I don’t mean one of those fancy mega yachts down at Collin’s Port. He’s in a rubber dingy, white knuckling because he doesn’t know how the next two minutes are going to go.” Putting the piping hot milk jug to one side, Beau dropped several teaspoons of cocoa powder into some mugs before pouring in the contents of the jug. “There ain’t no waterfall at the end of that conversation. Not if you don’t want there to be.”

“I just,” Nadie spoke quietly, shy and sheepish, which wasn’t her innate nature. Always the ambitious, driven spirit when she wants to reach her goals. Sadly, as of late, Nadie had no goals. She didn’t know what she was doing with her life. All she knew was, she was running a business she didn’t care about, her father was sick, her mother was crazy, and her sister was worried about her. “I don’t know what he’s been through and I don’t want to say anything to upset him.” Somehow, Nadie was twisting the narrative and blaming herself for how they fell apart, as if she could predict Ross taking out his frustrations on her in the past.

“Baby girl, ain’t that just a regular conversation?” Beau smiled as he placed the two mugs of chocolate onto a tray and began adding extras. He swirled some cream on top and sprinkled atop some cinnamon and orange zest. “All we do is dance around each other, never knowing whether the next step is right or wrong. We can’t predict that. We shouldn’t want to. What happens next? Well that’s just one of life’s great little adventures isn’t it? And if I remember rightly, Miss Navarro isn’t afraid of a little adventure.” Antoine finished the chocolates with some marshmallows before sliding the tray down the counter to Nadine. “You got this honey but if you don’t, quack three times and I’ll pull the fire alarm.”

Easing her shoulders, Nadie gave a genuine, earnest smile. She knew one of her biggest flaws was bottling everything up. It was nice to get a piece of advice before she embarked on this journey where the destination was unknown. There was no use in thinking of the outcome. This wasn’t like a math formula or a scientific hypothesis. This was life, her life, and she had to be focused on the moment, taking this conversation one second at a time. “Thank you, Mr. Beau,” she appreciatively said. Her eyes closed, as she took a deep breath in and out. She totally got this. All this was, was a regular conversation. That’s it.

Opening her eyes, she asked one last question, “Actually, can I get a small cup of powdered sugar please? Knowing Ross he’s going to want to drown his beignet in pure sugar…” She grimaced at the thought. Their sweet intake definitely was NOT compatible. She liked sweets, don’t get her wrong, but not as much as Ross did.

Beau let out a small bit hearty laugh, Payne definitely owed him a dollar. “Sure thing Mon Petite.” He reached under the counter and quickly poured the requested powdered sugar into a small takeaway cup and handed it over to Nadine. “Good luck.”

Holding the tray, Nadie gave her former English teacher a little nod before turning to face the booth that Ross was sitting at. Internally, she was continuing her pep talk from where she had left off, moments before her conversation with Beau. Externally, she hid her chattering teeth and kept a small smile on her face. After another short moment, she was at the table, placing the tray in the middle of it, right in front of Ross. “Still with a sweet tooth?” she inquired. Her brown eyes met his and they were closer in proximity, which they hadn’t been in years.

Ross watched Nadine approach the table. He took slow breaths, inhaling and exhaling before she sat down. If she was going through with it and not deciding to back away, then he couldn’t either. When she sat down, putting the tray of delicious-looking beignets and one cup of hot cocoa for each of them, Ross smiled. First at the tray of food that had his mouth salivating, but then at Nadine. Four years was a long time to go without saying or speaking to someone under normal circumstances, let alone to someone he hurt more than he had ever hurt himself. “These days, it’s become my top food group.” He said quietly. The air was tense with the ghosts of the past and Ross felt their weight on his back.

“That’s not very healthy,” Nadie teased, grabbing her mug of hot chocolate and holding it with both of her hands. One of her habits was if she wasn’t keeping her hands busy with writing or gaming or cooking or whatever, she needed to hold something. It’s why she clasps her hands together so much. Whether she was holding herself or a mug in this case, she was given a sense of security. There was a brief silence that surrounded them as she took a sip of her drink. When she placed the mug down, keeping her grasp tightly around it, she casually asked, leading the charge, “So how are you?”

He couldn’t help but let a chuckle escape through his mostly closed lips. He didn’t think he would feel anything other than the dread and weight he felt up until now, but Nadine was the same as she always was. Despite everything, she still teased. Either she was the same before it all or she was just really good at hiding it. Like Ross was doing. Like Ross was trying to do. He took one of the beignets and dipped in the hot chocolate. He needed a sweet fix. The twinkies weren’t lasting long enough. As he took a bite, he was in heaven, if not for a short moment. WIth a semi-full mouth, he tried to say, “In heaven at the moment,” then took a drink of his cocoa to wash it down. “Sorry…I mean, it’s been a long time since I’ve had one of Mr. Beau’s Beignets. Too long…” Yeah, because he hasn’t been himself in years.

As much as Ross wanted to, he didn’t pull his gaze away from Nadine. He couldn’t do that. “I guess the only way to answer that is to say I’m feeling…reflective of the past. It’s been on my mind a lot lately.”

Nadie watched as he dipped his beignet in his drink and devoured it. He ate the same, at least. Releasing her mug, she grabbed the cup of extra powder and pushed it toward him, just in case he wanted it but hadn’t noticed it. One of Nadine’s traits was that she was constantly attentive to everyone around her. She knew how to make someone feel seen. Simply through an observation, she could get a good read on them.

Right now, that was exactly what she was focused on. How he looked at her softly, deeply, and desperately. What he was feeling. Any telltale sign that showed his intentions. In his eyes, the windows to his soul, she saw his humanity and she didn’t look away. She couldn’t. “What exactly?” she forwardly asked, before adding context, “has been on your mind?”

There was an eerie quiet following her question. Ross took another beignet, this time adding more powdered sugar on it. Be it a byproduct of his sobriety or the tension building in the air, he devoured another in silence and washed it down with another giant sip of his cocoa. “Well…” He bit his lip, biding his time, but also making sure he didn’t screw this up. Ross had practiced what he was going to say to Nadine so many times. When he first addressed his demons in group, Ross avoided the core issue of it all. He avoided talking about it or at least never owned up to it until one person told it to him straight.

Conrad was his name. He helped Ross understand why he needed to take rehab seriously and look deep within. The issues were within himself. He used because he couldn’t handle the harsh realities that he wasn’t the perfect son or brother. He blamed himself and he didn’t want to feel that disappointment. The results were catastrophic. He had to face them head on. Just like he did in group. Just like he was doing now. “I keep thinking to that day. Our graduation. It keeps replaying in my mind over and over again. Like a broken record.” Ross could only imagine what might be going through Nadine’s mind when he brought up that day. “I wasn’t well that day, Nadine. Or that entire year. Not for a couple years after the fact. I don’t know if you ever heard about it from my family or maybe through the grapevine, but.” He paused only because everything in him was playing a game of tug of war in his mind. Telling him not to do it. Some part in the jigsaw that was his mind was trying to convince Ross she wouldn’t believe him. Maybe she wouldn’t, but this wasn’t about whether or not the person he hurt the most believed him. He had to say it. He had to attempt to make things right. “…I’m an addict. I’ve been an addict since junior year.” His stomach felt like it was sinking into a never-ending hole and god, his heart was on fire. This was the first time he ever uttered the words ‘I’m an addict’ outside of group. It was terrifying, yet in a way, liberating.

Part of her knew he was going through something since then. Part of her never wanted to ask because it never felt like her place. Once he said those hateful words to her, on graduation day no less, her very reality seemed to shatter, like a broken mirror. Nadine chose to block him out. Any mentions of him by people around her or on social media, she ignored. She didn’t want to hear his name. She couldn’t handle it. Everytime she did, she felt so much pain because what he did to her, how he treated her, felt like a stab in the back. Their friendship wasn’t perfect but she never thought he would ever push her away like he did. Back then she made herself believe she meant more to him but boy was she a fool.

“You hurt me, Hiroshi,” Nadie defeatedly whispered. “You fucking hurt me…” she broke contact with him to look into her mug, trying her best to not cry. She didn’t like crying. She didn’t like being seen as weak. “What do you want me to say?” she asked the air, aimlessly just like she was in her life. “I don’t know what to say.” A teardrop fell into the hot chocolate.

He never wanted to be the reason she cried again. All those nights he laid awake, replaying the endless loop of that night on repeat, Ross had promised himself over and over again: I’ll never make her cry again. If I ever get that second chance, I won’t be the reason, yet he was about to be. In his mind, he wanted to say something. Do something, but then those words that Conrad had always told him: The road to recovery is about your recovery as it is about those you’ve hurt.

Those words became his philosophy and it remained true even now. “You don’t have to say anything. Or you can say everything you have been bottling up for the past four years.” Ross kept his gaze on Nadine. He saw her pain, the tear falling down her face. He knew more than anyone that letting it out was the best thing, but only she could make that decision. Only thing Ross could do was be the person he should have been all those years ago. “So let me ask you, Nadine. How are you? What’s on your mind?”

Grabbing her mug once more, not taking another sip, just doing it to hold it, Nadie stammered, “I… I’m okay, I- I think.” She wasn’t okay. Who was she trying to fool? With her heart on her sleeves, she shook her head, in disagreement with herself. “N-no. No, I’m not okay. I haven’t been for… awhile.”

As much as Nadie wanted to gain the courage to look up at him, she couldn’t. She was ashamed. “I’m, I’m sorry. I- I don’t know what I did and I know, I know you just told me what you were going through… but I don’t understand, I don’t understand what that has to do with me.” She squeezed her eyelids shut, hoping she could keep the tears in as she tried to speak her mind, terrified of the repercussions. Terrified of his reaction. “If winning valedictorian meant that much to you. I- I would’ve turned it down. It isn’t like I’m putting it to good use. It isn’t like I’m anything anymore and maybe I, I was always nothing. I’m sorry, Ross.” The tears escaped, her watery eyes no longer able to hold tight, as her breathing continued to be choppy. She proceeded to cover her face. Why was seeing him this hard? Why did it hurt so much?

Ross thought if he told Nadine what was happening with him back then and how he was trying to come to terms with his disease, then it would provide some context. But that wasn't the whole truth. His addiction was just the accelerant, but the root of it all was far deeper. Maybe he was afraid to say it out loud, even now, or just he didn’t know before now how he would let it out. In his own weakness, again, Ross was the reason she was crying. Again, because of him, Nadine was crying. Unlike last time, he could do something about it.

“That’s..I mean, I thought if I told you it would somehow absolve me of the pain I caused you. I thought if I told you it would be okay, but nothing is okay. Valedictorian did mean something, but it wasn’t the only thing.” Ross had always enjoyed the time spent competing against Nadine. From the moments they shared against each other in debates, on tests for top marks, to even those moments at parties where they were more than just rivals. More than their grades. “I have always admired you. You pushed me to be better and I think I did the same for you. Debates were fun, if not frustrating. But somewhere along that line, I put too much pressure on myself. I was slipping. I thought if I didn’t succeed, if I wasn’t the best, I wouldn’t be anyone worth being proud of. At some point, I lost sight of who I was and focused only on winning and I thought if I took a few pills every now and then, I could devote all of my time and energy to studying, increasing my test scores and being the best, but I know that’s not how it works.”

Ross lowered his head in shame, shaking off the emotions that were coming to the surface and he raised it. He had to face Nadine even if she wasn’t. “When it was announced you won and I didn’t, I..I don’t know, I thought my dreams of making my family proud…making myself proud ended there and I abused the pills. Took other stuff that messed with my brain chemistry. I became erratic and emotionally irrational. I said so many hurtful things to you - things I can’t ever take back or make right. If I could, I would take it all back right now.” His lip quivered and as much as he wanted to leave it there, Ross felt like he had to say one more thing…no, he needed to say one more thing. “You were never nothing, Nadine. You have always been the best of the two of us. The better student. The better test-taker. And the stronger person.”

The more he talked, the more her breathing settled. The more she calmed down. She sat still, her face buried but she was no longer crying. She was listening to his words. When he said he’d take it all back, her hands dropped to her skirt and she glanced up at him. Her make up was hardly flaky because it was waterproof but her eyes carried so much heaviness, so much weight. Nadine was tired. “That’s a lie.” No longer stuttering, she shook her head in protest. “I don’t think you realize how many hours I spent trying to understand things just so I could keep up with you. But not even that, I get an A-minus and my mom is giving that look that I hate so much. You didn’t have to try. Everything came so easy to you. I wanted to be better because I didn’t want you to leave me behind and in the end, you didn’t…” she stopped herself, realizing what she was about to say.

You didn’t want me.

There was heat suddenly coursing through her body. Her cheeks kissed pink as her heart skipped a beat. What was she saying?

As she opened her mouth to backtrack, the bell of Beau’s entrance went off and a small goblin girl came stampeding in, rushing to Nadine’s side. “WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY NADIE?!” The next moments happened so fast, like a blink of an eye, that no one who was already in the cafe could process it. Lolly was quick to gather all the beignets on the table, throwing them right in her backpack, making sure to side eye Ross as she did so. Once she pulled Nadie to her feet, she was rushing out the door with her friend in tow. Well, not really. She was pulling Nadie out with her, giving her little to no choice. How dare a stupid boy make her friend cry!

Nadie tried to protest but it was a losing battle.

“Wait… Lol-” They were out of the cafe, the door shutting behind them, and just like that, Nadine was gone.

“What in the great heavenly Buddha was that? Or who was that?” Like a storm, Ross heard an obnoxiously loud, kinda short girl come in, yell something at him, steal all the remaining beignets and take Nadine, leaving him with so many questions. Who was that? Why did she seem to have a problem with Ross? What was Nadine going to say before she was cut off by the tiny stranger? Ross had so many questions that he needed answered.

“Never a dull moment,” Beau deeply sighed, wiping down the counter as he waited for his next customer. He would’ve said something if he had the time but Miss Anderson came in as fast as words could fly. Glancing up from the counter, he muttered to himself, “I knew she could do it,” before raising his voice, grabbing the attention of the gentleman who sat at booth three, his former student, “Mister Takahashi, don’t forget to pay.”

He didn’t see her. Yeah that was it. That was the only explanation why her Cammy didn’t say hi when he and his new friend left the Woodwork Shop a few minutes ago.

April was elated to see Cameron with a new girl, her poor baby had been through such a rough time. It was nice to see him happy and the girl he was with was absolutely stunning. Then again, why wouldn’t she be? Her little boy was so handsome, so strong. Cammy always attracted beautiful people. Shannon said during one of their sessions that her son was like a raging blue inferno, attracting moths to his flame. It was in human nature, a primal imperative to be drawn to the dangerous, the mysterious and the beautiful. Hell, maybe that was why April was so attracted to Cameron’s father Ivan in the first place.

Back when she was just a Southside rat, “Crazy April” always had a man on her arm. Some were genuine connections and others were an attempt to change her social standing, climb the ladder of success and be seen as something more than what she was, just another broken Southie. She thought about Cameron and how he never worried or cared about where he was in the hierarchy. She was envious. Her boy accepted his lot in life although April knew that he hated it. He hated the way they looked at him. She couldn’t blame him really, they looked at her the same way. The McMahon Woodwork shop was supposed to be her Father’s way of making their name mean something. As she looked up at it with her baby blue eyes, she knew her Cammy had taken the reins. Perhaps now with him there, the McMahon name would ring out in a positive way?

April wasn’t on Chestnut for Cameron though or to see the workshop. No, the reality was that she was there for the empty building next door and to hand the keys over to a young lady who had just purchased it. She was around Cam’s age, maybe they could be friends? With one hand twirling the crucifix around her neck and the other in her jeans pocket, fiddling with a keychain, April put on her best, brightest smile as the new tenant appeared from around the corner.

Leisurely, Elysia turned on Chestnut listening to Le Disko by Shiny Toy Guns hum from her custom audio system. She drove a retro, refurbished, teal 1967 Chevrolet Camaro with a cigarette hanging from her lip, coffee in one hand, and shades to protect her sensitive eyes from the sun. Her family loved investing in vintage things, like cars. Her family loved being different. Avant garde her mom would say. Retro cars were only one of many things they spent their money on to fill their boredom. They’d proceed to hire people to make the old like new and then her dad would travel the states to show his collection off at car shows.

In comparison to her peers, Ely knew she was fortunate beyond belief to have the Fable starting pack, old money that progressed into art money, to the point that her parents' boredom could make them ‘angel investors’ for the talented kids of Edenridge. Whatever the fuck that meant. She knew without them she likely would’ve given up on her dreams a long time ago. Still, unlike them, she liked to stay rooted in reality. She chose to use her hard earned money to get her places. To pay for her apartment with Indie. To help fund the many events Maxine and Indie used to crank out way back when. And to buy her and her business partner, Nathan Blake, a photography studio.

Her brother, Atlas, has used his privilege to support his travel expenses as he uses his incredible writing skills and his best friend, Skylar Bloom’s, videography skills to be the leading travel blogger duo in the world. Atlas & Sky is what they call themselves. She’s nature loving, giving nomadic lifestyle tips, hiking, diving, and other fun nature-oriented activities around the globe, dragging Atlas along. Her brother, however, was focused on sharing breathtaking and inspiring travel content, sharing his experience in a raw and authentic way while not sugar coating anything, like talking about tourist scams and culturally sensitive topics. He likes to dance with the locals and is an extreme foodie.

Together, they are the best of both worlds, providing extensive travel guides and itineraries if you ever are to visit one of the many places they see around the world. Ely wondered how that idiot was doing. He was awful at staying in contact with his family. She was sure he was fine. He always was even if Sky stressed him out making a man out of a city boy. They weren’t lovers, contrary to public belief. Best wingman and woman, but not lovers. Their audience shed silent tears.

Once Ely parallel parked, the platinum blonde put her cigarette in her portable ashtray, looked at herself in the rear mirror and rubbed her thumb under her lip to clean her lipstick. Taking a sip of her coffee, she turned off the ignition. Across the street from her future studio, she stared at the older woman waiting. April McMahon. There were many rumours about her but Ely never cared for rumours. Some people would think her and Nate were crazy for investing in property in the southside but the price was a steal and life was boring, so Ely had the mindset of: why not. Nate didn’t care about the logistics so long as they had an office to operate and a place to lock their equipment at. Security could be worked on once Ely saw what she was working with. Ely, like her parents, whether she wanted to admit it or not, liked to help her community and if that meant crossing the train tracks to give Fable & Blake Photography a home then she wouldn’t hesitate. She saw the listing, made the call, asked questions, and purchased it without touring. Her instincts told her to just do it and so she did just that. She just did it. Made a bid and won.

Exiting the car, leaving her coffee behind but grabbing her camera bag, looking like she had just rolled out of bed, when really, Ely just threw on whatever she wanted in a moment and made it fashionable, the young adult strolled to the realtor. Slipping a gum in her mouth, she met April’s gaze behind her shades and gave a head nod, “Beautiful day, yeah?”

“When you live here long enough you realise that any day after a storm, there’s a certain kind of magic in the air.” April smiled brightly as the young woman joined her outside the vacant lot. Seeing Elysia as she was, the realtor couldn’t help but be reminded of herself in days long gone by. The difference was that the young Fable carried herself with intention, April was a train wreck hanging precariously off of a cliff's edge, waiting to plummet into the murky depths and crushing weight of the ocean. Reaching into her jeans pocket, the older blonde woman pulled out a set of keys with a wooden keychain on them; an intricate celtic design. “Well these are for you!” She said sprightly as she handed them over to Ely. “Square key is the front door. The smaller one is for the inside lock up the stairs which takes you directly into the space. Do you want me to take you inside or do you wanna greet your future on your own?”

As April has finished speaking, a peroxide blonde would come speeding around the corner. “Hiiiiiiii.” Addie greeted as she sprung up behind Elysia, wrapping her arms around her waist and playing with the hem of her short white dress. The pixie’s painted lips pressed a soft kiss to the artist's neck before her blue eyes drifted to the older woman and her mouth struggled to not fall agape from her beauty. “Holy fuck your fucking hot.” Addie stared at April intensely, entranced by the estate agent's visage before she rested her chin on Ely’s shoulder. “Baby you smell gooooood.”

“Thanks, Fruit Loop,” Ely softly purred. There was a subtle smile on Ely’s nearly moodless face when Addie came rushing in. Her gum clicked in her mouth. Taking in the sun and the warm embrace coming from her forever girl, the platinum blonde observed the older woman as she spoke and held the keys to her new studio. Letting Addie be Addie, Ely acknowledged her girlfriend's presence by tracing her finger in circles on one of Addie’s hands before replying, “I guess a better question I got is, are there any secrets waiting for me? And while I know the neighbourhood, you likely know this street well. I did my research and the vacant Pop! Shop is across the street, that building over there,” She gestured behind her, Addie was now part of her person, her body moving along with her as Ely naturally carried on with business. The building behind them was boarded up and covered with graffiti tags. Most of the tags were curse words, deceased names, and serpent slang, which all covered the art of a kid shovelling a box of jawbreakers in his mouth. “Once upon a time the business and residential home of child molestor and murderer, Christian Warren. What’s the story behind this building?” She pointed back to her future studio. “There’s always a story.”

“I don't know about you guys, but I don't like ghosts.” Another voice piped up with a chuckle from the entrance of the studio. A tall, dark skinned girl stood, her eyes twinkling mischievously. Her outfit was casual, with a graphic Looney Tunes tee that she had undoubtedly stolen from one of her girlfriends, black biker shorts, and crisp white Nikes. “Surpri-iiiiise!” She called out excitedly.

Devika was a deeply spiritual person, and despite her belief in ghosts and spirits, she was still quite fearful of them. Her belief in auras and energies was strong, even if she couldn't see them with her own two eyes. She often found herself drawn to places with a certain energy or aura, and this old warehouse Ely had just purchased gave her an uneasy feeling. But she didn't want to ruin the mood, not when her partners Ely and Addie were here to celebrate a new chapter in Ely’s professional life. And why wouldn’t Devi show up to support her girl on her day off? She knew if the others could, they would (some happily) crash the viewing too.

Devi had never been one for traditional relationships, and she was happy to have found a group of people who shared her views on love and intimacy. Her polyamorous relationship with Ely, Addie, and three others was built on a foundation of mutual respect, attraction, and love. It had taken time for them to find their rhythm, but now they were all comfortable in their roles within the group. Devika loved the way that Ely's creativity and passion inspired her, while Addie's wild and carefree spirit brought a playful energy to their dynamic. It wasn’t easy hiding her partners from her family, but being with her partners had brought her a sense of belonging and happiness that she had never experienced before. Devi jogged into the building. Whether she was eager or nervous because of the vibes, nobody had to know.

Upon approaching, she leaned in to give Ely and Addie a quick peck on the cheek, feeling a surge of warmth in her chest as she looked at them. They were her family, her support system, and seeing them happy made her happy. “So, what's the plan for this space? Are we going cosy art studio vibes with Vez’s plants or are we going full kinky sex dungeon?” she asked, grinning.

April was slightly taken aback by the newly formed trio. She had done a lot of things in her life, some good, some bad. She had had multiple lovers of both sexes at the same time, she had been hooked on drugs and she had whored herself for money but looking at the three girls and the way they gazed at and touched each other; to be that in love and with multiple people no less, she had never felt that before.

“Always a kinky sex dungeon.” Adelaide released Ely from her grasp, only to pounce onto Devika. She pinned the beautiful dark skinned girl against the wall of the newly acquired studio and pressed their lips together. Addie loved everyone in the Poly deeply and equally but Devi always held a special place in her heart. She was the first one that Addie met and whom she entered into what one could but probably shouldn’t define as a relationship. Hell, she was with Devi on that dreadful day two years ago when Charlie Decker made his end waltz. She wrapped her arms around her girlfriend’s waist and slid her hands down into the back pockets of Devika’s shorts. “Hi baby.” She whispered into the aspiring student’s mouth before turning to look at Ely and April. “You two might wanna go inside, I wanna do bad stuff.”

April cleared her throat and handed Elysia the keys. “How about I just let you girls do your thing?” The older woman smiled genuinely. “You can keep the key ring. My son made tons when he was a boy. Anyway as far as a story? Not much to tell you. It was built to be an extension on the Woodshop next door but it never fully materialised, so it was then made into a storage facility and then nothing. Not sure why no one wanted to buy it but that means nothing now. It’s all yours.” She grabbed the strap of her bag with both hands and took a step back. “I hope all of you enjoy the place. You have my number Miss Fable if you have any issues. Welcome to your new home!” April grinned before turning and walking away.

“Yeah, thanks,” Ely waved to the realtor walking away, before looking at the two younger girls she called her girlfriends. She adored them deeply but there certainly was a time and place for shenanigans. Ely’s business endeavours weren’t one of them, at least not during the exchange of keys with a realty agent. She didn’t want to burn bridges when she was just starting to build them and for all she knew, she might need April’s assistance again in the future. Still, Ely wasn’t one to police them, especially not Addie. Vez was better at giving them words of wisdom and advice, with a motherly touch, while Ely chose to let things go, unfazed and unbothered. Shake it off and keep going. She was far too blunt when she did speak and the only people she would speak with unfiltered harshness, knowing they could handle it, were Max, Indie, and Owen. “I’m not moving forward with any design until Nate gets a chance to see what we’re working with.”

Taking off her shades, hooking them on her shirt, her cold and focused stare met with both of the girls watching her with interest and intrigue. “Since we’re all here,” Ely dangled the keys in front of them. “First one to the top of the stairs will have full control of decorating my office space. To add extra incentive, in my car, I have a present. Whoever wins gets to decide who wears it. I might not be running up these stairs but I’ll know who wins. I can tell when you’re both lying.”

Devika couldn't help but smile at Adelaide's affectionate greeting. She returned the kiss with equal passion, enjoying the sensation of Addie's hands on her waist. She knew that they had to be careful not to get carried away, but it was hard to resist the pull of their love for each other. As April made her way out of the building, Devi turned her attention back to Ely, even if it was a bit of a struggle with Addie distracting her so nicely.

She listened attentively as Ely spoke about waiting for Nate to see the space before moving forward with any design plans. Devi nodded in agreement, knowing that Nate and Ely’s creative talent together would be able to bring their new abode to life. But then Ely mentioned a little competition, and Devi's competitive streak kicked in. “Challenge accepted,” Devi grinned, eyeing the keys that Ely was holding. She loved a good competition, and the idea of winning the chance to decorate Ely's office was too tempting to resist. Out of the group, Devi’s method of decorating was opposite Marie Kondo’s at best - chaotic (though she preferred the term maximalist) With a vision of Ely’s incentive in mind, Devi slipped out of Addie’s embrace, sniping the keys in Ely’s hand and took off running towards the stairs, her long legs carrying her quickly towards the top like a mad girl on a mission.

Addie narrowed her big blue eyes and stared at Ely as Devi broke away from her to chase down the goal of decoration. “You are soooo getting punished for that later.” She scrunched up her little face to fein anger. Had anyone else interrupted Adelaide when she was mid touching, the young botanist would likely have blown a gasket. No one is to come between Addie and her girls. Yet since it was Elysia, her person, her good lady, it was acceptable…but only just.

“I would rather drag my dick through a hundred broken whiskey bottles than let Devika win.” Taking a roll up from her shirt pocket, Addie placed it between her thick lips and lit it with a match. After blowing some smoke from her lungs, she dropped her bag on the floor by Ely’s feet. Adelaide quickly jumped onto the thick black drainpipe that clung to the side of the new studio and began to climb it like a spider monkey. In a true contrast to her sex goblin energy and grunge aesthetic, Addie had always been a sporty girl. She played soccer and volleyball for Edenridge and also enjoyed swimming and rock climbing. Inside the small girl was the heart of an athlete, though one would have to Wade through the marijuana smoke to find her. “Ely, make sure you watch my ass wiggle!” She called back as she began the ascent.

Devi couldn't help but burst out laughing as she turned to watch Addie's impressive display of athleticism through the large windows by the stairs. The way she climbed the drainpipe like a pro and called out to Ely was both hilarious and impressive. Of course Addie wouldn’t choose to take the stairs: just like how she often refused to use the door like any other person. But that was Devi’s person, and Addie was right to point to her ass as the view. “You go, girl!” Devi shouted after her, cheering her on. Devi needed the head start considering Adelaide’s way of thinking combined with her athleticism meant that the brown beauty had absolutely no chance of actually competing with the little gremlin.

But as Addie and her jiggling ass made her way up the pipe, Devi's laughter began to turn into wheezes and gasps as a stitch formed in her side. She tried to keep up with Addie's ascent, but her body was not prepared for the sudden burst of physical activity. Devi's legs began to wobble, and she collapsed onto the landing while painfully wheezing from laughter.

“VINDICATION!” Addie yelled as she watched her lover fall to her knees. Sucking some more smoke through her joint, she smiled from ear to ear, clutching the weed in her teeth as she carried on her climb. Adelaide never really considered herself competitive. Even when playing team sports the goal was never about winning. The two main reasons she even considered athletics as a pass time was to chase the high of adrenaline from the activity and to chase the incredibly fit and attractive girls that played said activities. Her being crazy in shape was simply a bio product of pursuing sex and drugs.

Once she had reached the summit of the pipe, Addie reached her short leg over to see how sturdy the window ledge was. It seemed strong enough. She then reached an arm over and popped the window open. Unlocked; this definitely was the Southside. She wondered if the hot real estate woman would get in trouble for that? Securing herself, Addie lept from the drainpipe and spun in the air until she was seated on the window ledge, her legs dangling like a schoolgirl whose feet couldn’t touch the floor. “I am the lizard queeeeeeen!” She proclaimed, raising her hands in victory before rolling backwards into Ely’s still locked new studio.

Devi pushed herself up from the ground, huffing and puffing with every breath. “She beat me!” she panted, still trying to catch her breath. “Seriously, I'm taking Emmy up on her next offer to not skip leg day. This race was BRUTAL.” She dramatically clutched at her side, “I got this stitch for NOTHING. I want compensation!”

Devi fumbled with the keys as she complained, unlocking the office to see the blonde pixie rolling into the office after having sat precariously half out the window. Nope, that wouldn't do, it was time for reparations. With the door open, Devi darted inside and launched herself at Addie with a barrage of tickles and cuddles. So what if the office floor was a little dusty? Devi would brave the allergies for any moment of intimacy with her girls. “You may have won the race, but I'm the winner because I get the cuddles.” she declared triumphantly, nuzzling her nose into Addie's neck. “ELYYYYYY. Join us! The cuddle pile awaits!”

Perhaps it was for the best that Devi didn’t get creative reigns to Ely’s office. She already had plans to paint the office in vibrant colours, hang cute posters of animals and eclectic art that would have fit Ely’s effortlessly cool-girl vibes. Aw well, maybe if Devi pouted enough, Vez would allow her a small corner of hers and King’s living room to “make over”.

The moment Devika tackled her, Adelaide threw her joint out of the open window from which she had just entered. In any other circumstance, she would consider the wasting of good weed up there with sex crimes, animal abuse and the music of Ariana Grande as a travesty. The wasting however to receive a mere modicum of physical contact from any of her girlfriends was the only valid reason she would allow. Giggling and laughing, Addie had to save herself somehow form the half crazed tickle machine that was atop her. She wrapped her legs tightly around the brown girl's waist before pulling their bodies together and grabbing Devi by the face. “You are not playing fair.” Addie leaned up and kissed Devika deeply before biting her girlfriends lower lip and slowly dragging her closer to the ground. “I’m pretty sure I’m the winner. I hereby claim my prize.”

While the two young ladies were left to their own devices, Ely, in no rush to catch up, turned on her heel, back outside to retrieve the ‘surprise’ from her car. To Addie and Devi, time went by fast, as they were likely caught in a heated exchange but for the platinum blonde artist, time went by leisurely. Returning to the lobby, she entered the elevator. Holding the present in one arm, a white box with a sheer red ribbon tied around it, her camera bag still hanging from her shoulder, she eased a few more pieces of 5 Gum Mint in her mouth.

Going up, she thought to herself how in the past she would never be in a committed relationship. Now she was committed to five people, and perhaps more if they fit the vibe. Polyamory was something she always considered but in high school she embraced the wild child life, raving and using her cash for all sorts of vices. Max never did like how much Ely loved to trip and get high, losing herself in the pleasures of the world. At the time, all of Ely’s friends were afraid she would kill herself, just like Allison did.

The fact that Max died and not her was a surprise to most people in her year and honestly, that broke her heart because she knew Max had more to give. So much more to give. Ely was just here making most of her time through sheer boredom. Photography to her was like an oasis in the desert. Not many things piqued her interest but when she took pictures of people, she saw beauty. Now? She had five muses. Adelaide being her first and her favorite. The one she’d crave even when she wasn’t hungry. Her best girl and sex bunny.

Devi, on the other hand, was one of her newer flames; they were still very much in the honeymoon stage. There was no doubt that Devika was a smart cookie but what attracted Ely to her was how passion emitted from every fiber of her being. Everything Devi does, she gives one hundred and twenty percent. Sometimes it takes a massive toll on her but who she is as a person is incredibly endearing to the older woman.

Ely would be lying if she said that Devi didn’t remind her of her best friend, Indie, at times. Indie would be someone Ely considered off-limits because she knew deep down, Indie and Owen were made for one another. Those two idiots just refused to take that leap of faith. Devi was something special though and Ely was finding new things she loved about her each and every day… then again, all her lovers were special one way or another.

The only one out of her companions she hadn’t slept with was Verity and that’s because she needed the neurotic and fastidious redhead for other things. Verity Roy-Wilson was particular, self-critical, and a worrywart. Sometimes her concerns reminded her too much of her deceased friend for her to ever see the pretty girl in a sexual light. Still, she adored each member of her eccentric family. Especially the two gremlins waiting for her in her new studio.

Was Maxine happy to see that she found people to calm her raging spirit and inspire her to want to do better?

She hoped so.

God, she fucking hoped so.

Ely missed Maxine James. More than she would ever admit. Max was her biggest cheerleader, giving the best business advice and criticism to hone her skills. Then followed Indie and Owen, who never stopped being supportive of her dreams even though realistically, unlike others, Ely could easily get where she needed to go. She came from money. Owen working as much as he does, and still making time for his friends, was a constant reminder of the privilege that Ely would have no matter what. Sure, she may be using her own money but that doesn’t change that when you hear Fable you think of some of the most transcendent and illustrious artists and ambitious patrons in the Boston area.

Indie was probably the most pushy and flighty friend she ever came to associate herself with. Without that naggy voice, maybe she wouldn’t have found her people. Maybe she would’ve travelled the world, never to look back, just like her brother.

No matter. Every person Ely considered family did something for her and she knew she wouldn’t have gotten to this place without those words Maxine had said to her, the day before she died.

Don’t kill yourself, Ely… you’re never sober and that’s not healthy. Don’t you think? Kill the part of you that you don’t like. This life, this night, you. You matter and all I can see is you wasting your time for nothing when you have the world at your fingertips. People like me, Owen, Indie? We don’t have it as easy. I would kill to have your life and to better my family’s situation. Please, at least consider me the next time you think of drugs or booze or whatever. Think of the people that love you...

Opening her studio door, Ely had put her glasses back on to hide her glossy eyes. Popping a bubble, she hid her grief behind a smirk when she noticed her two girls naked on the bare floor. “Couldn’t wait, huh?” Closing the door behind her, she walked to the past-through window that separated the large room from the kitchen area. Placing the box on a counter, the artist voiced, as she took the camera bag off her shoulder, “Don’t move. The lighting is hitting you two perfectly.” She needed to capture the moment.

“Well make it snappy, Snappy.” Addie sat straddled across Devika as Elysia began to take their photos. She could feel the warm kiss of summer breaking through the window and caressing her bare skin as her big blue eyes stared down at the caramel enchantress she had pinned down. As Devi’s hands explored her body, Adelaide leaned ever so slightly backwards so as to not ruin her lover's shot before she brought her gaze to meet Ely’s. “You really like to watch, huh baby?” Her eyes still locked on the photographer, the botanist lowered herself until she was fully pressed against Devika and began to kiss her neck before nibbling ever so lightly at her ear. “You taste delish.” she whispered.

“Luckily for everyone here, I like to put on a show.” Devi responded breathily, sliding her arms down her Pixie’s back. Her body was so soft and toned, indicating at Addie’s athletic history, and she could feel the warmth of her body against her inflamed skin. They moved together like they always did, desperately, hungrily, like they could never get enough. As Devi hooked a leg around Addie to trap the lovers in place, she turned to look at Ely. Her hand reached out into the air, trying to pull the beauty closer. “Come… let’s Christen your office together.”

“Hm,” Ely acknowledged both girls’ comments as she crouched down. Still in place, she turned the focus ring slightly to make their skin crisp in the picture. What art brings cannot be weighed or measured. She loved art because there she could convey her emotions without speaking. The power of a picture was to convey truth and to speak to one’s soul without using words. Whether Adelaide and Devika were taking a stroll in the park or bundled on the couch watching spooky movies, Ely saw beauty in their youth, in their smile, in their eyes, in their bodies, in their minds, in their hearts, and in their attitudes. Ely saw beauty in how they loved each other and how they loved her. Every flaw and every imperfection, every weakness and every insecurity, she loved everything about them. They were beautiful and they were her’s. “… Adelaide, since you won.” She snapped a picture the moment both girls looked at her simultaneously with intrigue. “There’s a candy thong and bra in the box. You can choose who gets to wear it. There’s also a new toy we can play with. I only ask for one thing: don’t tell Nate.” There was no need for her business partner to know what happens in their shared office when he isn’t around. He would blush at the simple mention of sex, she bet.

Addie looked at Elysia with intrigue, a candy thong huh? That was very interesting but the way things had gone, it was not something that excited her at that moment. “I’ll have a think but in the meantime…” The pint sized pixie grabbed a hold of the blonde’s hand and pulled her towards her and Devika. “You better take your dress off and kiss me or I’m about to get real nasty.” Adelaide scrunched up her nose before tilting her head to stare at the peroxide artist. “Real. Nasty.”

Devi's mind was blissfully occupied with the woman in her arms. Her fingers lazily traced circles on Addie's bare back, a contented smile spreading across her lips as they both pouted for Ely to join them. Where Addie resorted to not so thinly veiled threats, Devi’s mode of attack was always turning up the sweetness. Like Mort from Madagascar, only a little less furry.

Devi had been in relationships before, but none had ever been like the one she shared with the five in the polyamorous relationship she was in today. Everyone had their draws, and not just physically (though that certainly didn’t hurt). With Ely, it was something magnetic and unexplainable. Maybe it was Ely's confidence and poise, or her effortless cool that made Devi feel safe and protected. Perhaps it was the way Ely laughed, or the gentle way she would touch Devi's face when they kissed or guide her to pose. Whatever it was, Devi was smitten. She loved the way Ely made her feel when they were together, like she was the only person in the world that mattered. Devi had always been a passionate person, but with Ely, that passion was amplified. It felt safe.

Devi took hold of Ely’s camera, taking as much care as she could while being straddled by the energetic wild cat above her. She placed the camera as far away from them as her hands could reach, to avoid collateral damage. Devi might not have known the sentimental value of the camera, but she certainly knew enough to respect Ely’s passions just as she did hers. Devi then leaned in towards Ely, her lips brushing against the older woman's ear as she whispered playfully, “I think I might need a little bit more of your attention, Ely.” With a playful pout, she planted a quick kiss on Ely's cheek before settling back down against Addie's warm embrace. The three of them entangled in each other's arms, Devi knew she was exactly where she was supposed to be - in the arms of the people she loved.

Passing a small wooden sign, which said Blue Hill Reservation (not like she could read it), Anya smiled to herself and thought of her destination. Her person. Up until recently, her escape was her bike rides. Her bike was an extension of her, part of her. Without her, her bike would be rendered useless. She loved her bike, it gave her a feeling she intensely desired, but things were changing and she wondered if she could find this same feeling in the form of a blonde girl with chipped angel wings, jewels for eyes, and a crown fit for a queen, not a princess.

Some people rode for the thrill, Anya rode her bike for a sense of immersion. Bringing the physical and metaphysical together in one reality. There’s nothing between you and the world when you’re on the road with your motorcycle. She could feel the cool humid air as she sped through the forested hillside. From the smell of the road dust to the weeds and the wildflowers, she couldn’t help but be at peace as she embraced her surroundings and let the sun warm her cobalt blue leather jacket.

Rumbling and vibrating from under her, she guided her bike with her internal compass. When she leaned one way, her bike would follow suit. Her bike listened to her and chased the feeling. She wasn’t hiding from the world when she rode her bike, she was taking charge of her life, her direction, driving through one bubble after the other, of sights, sounds, and smells. She was invigorated and infinite. She was free. If she knew how freedom felt, the Russian woman would imagine it felt something like this. It felt like a bike ride.

Anya remembered fondly when her father, no, not Zima, permitted her to join the Angels, especially after finding out her connection to Charlie “Coldhands” Taylor. While he didn’t know to what extent CT and Anya’s rapport was, like the fact that CT was her mother’s friend throughout the years going back to their highschool days, he did know they were close. Close enough for CT to give Anya one of two of his Harleys. It was a simple black bike but Anya had customized blue stripes on it.

Her father never did question the reasoning nor did he have her sisters, his daughters, ask too many questions. Rather he found a way to make this a useful opportunity, placing an informant in one of the major gangs of Edenridge. He wanted to show Anya that he did care about her wants and needs, and so, as most dads would do, he showed his love by calling her an Angel. He gave her a family with the price that she always remembers her wings were there because of him. She flies because he said she could.

That wasn’t freedom, though. Was it? Not like how riding a bike felt. Not like how her Jade made her feel. The freedom he granted would never be free. There was always a price to pay in her father’s garden. Her life being the ultimate price if she didn’t abide by his rules. If she didn’t appreciate everything he gave her. Still, when she thought of the woman she desired, the one that was on her mind first thing in the morning and last thing at night, her biggest weakness, her greatest strength, she knew something she didn’t know before. Freedom shouldn’t be given. Freedom should be won. Her freedom was a state of mind. That meant she wouldn’t be afraid to chase what she wants. To feel and be human. To love. That meant she wouldn’t be a monster forever. There was a light at the end of the dark tunnel and that light was Jade.

Pulling up and parking her Harley a little distance away from Adora’s porch, Anya turned her vehicle off, removed herself from the seat and secured it on its kickstand. When her bike was nicely parked, she pulled her black helmet with the Fallen Angels emblem up, letting her blonde strands fall over her shoulders. Facing away from the porch, she threaded her rearview mirror through her helmet visor. On the back of her jacket, there was a snake design that looked similar to the Southside Serpents logo.

For those that only took a small glance, they would assume she was a Snake. To the keen eye, however, one would notice the differences. Instead of the snake mouth being closed, it was wide open. Teeth revealed and threatening. The eyes glowed menacingly and brightly (a vivid shimmering gold, which complimented her cobalt blue leather). The snake skin was a muted green like that of jade rather than a forest green which most serpents had and the size of the snake seemed a few sizes bigger. If Anya wanted to show her patches she could either open her coat up and display the interior or reverse her coat and sport her Angel pride instead of her Basilisk reputation. Today, she wanted to present herself as the Basilisk. This was her Toast girl and her closest friends after all.

Understandably, Jade was nervous. Had been after she sent Anya a text. They had a brief exchange. Jade asked if she could pick her up at the Blue Hill Reservation. Anya, she was so sweet in a lot of ways. Jade loved the way she texted. Short, somewhat cryptic. She had this adorable way of using emoji’s too, something that always made Jade smile and it was something that Pops and Key took notice of right away. She had no way of hiding it either. Anya had a way about her, that was for sure. A way to always make her feel like she was at her happiest. The world around her could be literally on fire, but if she knew she was nearby, Jade didn’t have to fear anything. Not even The Devil himself.

In the hour that went by, Jade took a quick shower. She felt a bit obsessive and nervous and overridden with a sense of panic that she took a shower that was twice as long. She had bid her goodbyes to Natalia, who was outside in the backyard swaying gently back and forth on a hammock. Jade couldn’t tell if she was content and happy, or in some kind of state. She seemed receptive of Jade telling her she was leaving, or at least it appeared that way.

By the time that hour had come to an end, Jade was outside, her bag slung over her shoulder and her best friends, Poppy on her left and Key on her right, were with her. She was wearing a pair of blue jeans and a black spaghetti strap top, one that had the image of a burning angel being embraced by Lucifer. Her heart was beating like an orchestra that was in a cooldown period, slowly building the longer the silence remained. It was fitting because she felt like she was waiting and waiting and it amplified her nervousness, which was reflected in the way her arm that was holding the strap of her shoulder bag shook. Closing her eyes, she took a breath. At the same time, Jade heard a sound that immediately caught her attention. It sounded so familiar.

“A motorcycle?” Jade found herself whispering in such a quiet tone that neither Key nor Pops would have heard. Her heart was beating faster and faster now, the symphony in her heart taking a life on its own. She didn’t know why she was reacting like this, but not all bikes were treated the same. The dirt bike was quiet and fast, but weak, but harleys were different. There was a special kind of sound the engine made when it revved. To some it wasn’t anything special, but to her it had an unique sound that was close to her heart because it brought her back to a place when she was at her happiest. The Harley he gave to her to look after, ride whenever she pleased, had that same sound and it had frozen everything in her. From anxiety to any physical movement, Jade was frozen and more or less unresponsive to anything outside of her own mind.

Equally frozen beside his memory-dazed friend, Mordechai stared down at the back of the newcomer from his spot leaning on the porch post. His eyes were sharp despite how they continued to widen in ever mounting shock, taking in every detail as each one added foundation beneath what had until now only been supported by belief. The Basilisk, a name whispered with as much fear as it is reverence in the circles he ran in back in the day, and will be running in again soon. Everyone in the crew had their favorite batshit crazy story about the Basilisk that they just accepted as fact, the one they’d tell around the circle when they had a chance to relax and geek out like the children they didn’t have the privilege to be.

”I heard when she was just a teen she was in a bar fight with guys three times her size,” Sonny would begin while the other serpents snickered over the stars in his eyes. ”She took ‘em all down usin’ em against each other then sat at the bar ta drink while they were all bleedin’ on the floor.”

”So what?” Tov always interrupted, flailing his arms around while somehow managing not to spill a drop of whatever he was drinking at the time. "Wha’ ‘bout that time she was cornered in a warehouse by a hit squad and managed to light the whole place ablaze with the gunpowder from a single bullet?”

On and on it would go, with Creed chiming in with his favorite of her taking on an entire fighting ring at once and walking away unscathed, or Jokes cackling about her revenge of cutting out the tongue of a man who wouldn’t stop coming onto her with shitty pick up lines and roaming fingers. Prof had made them watch The Princess Bride in an immediate response to them not understanding his joke when he told the rumor of her being immune to most poisons. The circle would always end at Ransom, who would roll his eyes and cross his arms defiantly, slouching back against his seat and claiming he wasn’t as lame as them to have a story. They would firmly remind him he always used to have stories he favored.

”Those were a kid’s fantasy, I don’t need ‘em no more.”

His eyes were glued to the object of all those stories, but his hand had dropped in order to frantically tap-slap at Jade’s lax form. All his words were trapped in his throat but he eventually managed to change his flailing into a grasp at her elbow to pull her attention for a second and meet her eyes. His gaze screamed surprise and shock and wonder while he jerked his thumb in the direction of the Basilisk on the back of the woman’s jacket.

While Mordechai was fixated on the coat and Jade the motorcycle, Penelope carefully gazed at the beautiful blonde woman’s backside. She looked familiar. Scarily so. The blonde hair, the figure, and the posture reminded her of someone she saw often. Someone that was always around even if they rarely interacted. Someone that frequented a place Poppy knew like the back of her hand. It wasn’t until the woman turned around to acknowledge the trio, beaming a childlike smile and casually waving, that Poppy realized who that was. “Jane?” Was she seeing things or was Jade dating the librarian assistant? Jade… and the librarian assistant. Weird. Turning to the two beside her, she searched Jade’s bewildered face. Catching how lost for words her friend was, she flatly asked, “How did you bag the library aide?”

As a delayed reaction to Key’s assertive elbow-poking, Jade snapped out of her daze, returning to Planet Blue Hill as she heard Pops. “Well, I…”

“Hello Toast girl,” the woman called out with her thick Russian accent, ambling her way toward them, having not breached the distance yet. The trio had a few more seconds to interact before she was in front of them. “And friends!”

Hearing that name, whatever Jade was feeling: the time-traveling back to when she was younger, hearing her uncle’s short tail cruiser, which was now hers, the absolute bliss that was associated with those times became almost immediately replaced with the Sunday mornings spent at Dolly’s, meeting for breakfast. Just the two of them as Brandon Lyon served them each an oversweet but equally tasty plate of food. Anya with the pancakes and Jade with her berrylicious french toast. Every Sunday they met like that and every Sunday, Jade could have an hour, at most, to just be…herself. To not have to think about where her mind was at for the entire month except a handful of days with a handful of hours where she could forget about it all.

As her face started to go hot, Jade smiled at Anya, absentmindedly ignoring Poppy and Key just for a moment, taking in the moment. Her heart was beating as fast as hot her face felt, setting everything in and around her on fire. She didn’t know why this was so intense, but whenever she was near Anya, there was no use hiding anything from her. Especially with two other people in her life who had the same effect on her, yet her leather-clad Anya did it so effortlessly from day fucking one. There was no other way to describe that than what Jade was starting to piece together, yet she couldn’t bring herself to say it…yet. “Hi Pancake!” She greeted Anya, smiling a grin that both showed her heart and hid some things about the whole moment she was trying to process herself.

When Jade hyper focused on the librarian assistant, ignoring her question, Poppy glanced over to Mordechai only to see him dumbstruck too. Was she the only functional one right now? Jade was practically turning as red as a rose, which was weird to bear witness to and Decky was stunned because of something. Maybe he knew more about Jane. She’d have to ask him later once this interaction was over. “Helloooooo, Jane? Jane right?” If Jade wasn’t going to confirm, Poppy would do it herself.

“Jane?” Anya had approached the three stooges and stared at the small woman who had curiosity in her green eyes and boldness that reminded her of one of her sisters. The Russian lady spent the next second or two trying to process the name before snapping her finger, “Oh! Oh. Yes and no. In library, I am Jane like the book. I have many names, looks like Ken Doll might know one,” Anya teasingly grinned, clearly aware of the existence of all three of the people in front of her. “You close friends with Toast girl, yes?”

Mordechai was snapped out of his amazement as soon as his corner name fell from the blonde’s lips, though unfortunately it just added to his mounting confusion rather than helping him understand what was going on. Why had she called him that, why had she even known that name? How in the hell would she even have gotten that information considering that, aside from johns, only two people ever used that name for him an-

“Legs where did that toy come from, did Badger stop by?”

”Nah, I got my own friends too ya know,” She raised her eyebrow at him while helping Viva open up the russian nesting doll in her pudgy little hands. “My Bassy dropped it off for Viva’s birthday.”

“Wuv Auntie Bass!” Viva garbled, excitedly shaking the smallest wooden doll. Each one had been custom painted to look like the baby girl while still maintaining the object’s traditional design.

“Maybe you’ll meet her one day, Ken Doll,” Allegra ended with a wink, leaving him more confused than when he’d walked in the door.

____________________________________________________________________

“Mary-Anne O’Hara, shit” Decky stressed while staring at Mika with wide eyes, blunt hanging limply between his fingers while the two of them watched the stars from the back of Mika’s truck, on the tail end of another extensive and vulnerable conversation that many didn’t realize the two boys were capable of having together. It wasn’t always fists first with the Boa and the Badger. He had wondered why his brother had felt the need to swear him to secrecy before he even uttered that last name and now Decky could understand why the other boy was so serious. Mikhail Zima, the Honey Badger of the Southside and son of Ivan Zima, honorary son of the top snake himself, Big Rey Gonzales, a fucking Foundling. “Any other name drops ya wanna get off your shoulders,” He joked, showing Mika his lips were sealed by moving on from the subject as he passed the blunt back. “How ‘bout your older sister? I know Stacy and Katie, but what about the older badass one?”

“Oh, if you ever meet her in Edenridge,” Mika answered unexpectedly, as Decky had genuinely just meant to leave it as a rhetorical to lighten the heavy mood. “She’ll probably be going by Jane.”

“Then say Jane from now on instead’a ‘my older sister’ every damn time, save the world from ya takin’ up its extra air every once in a while. Gimme that blunt back.”

Holy shit.

Not only was one of his best friends practically dating The Basilisk, but the Basilisk was also Allegra’s Bassy, the aunt of his children who he always missed by minutes when he’d return home from the corner or some odd job. AND She was Mika’s sister, Jane- Jane the library aide what the fuck- who he’d heard as many stories about as he had Mika’s mother. Three people he’d heard so much about over the years and- through none of the expected paths laid before him- finally got to meet in the flesh.

And they were all the same fucking person.

Mordechai was no stranger to multiple alias’ and nicknames. The man himself had a laundry list of names people called him, and only recently was one of those choices his real name. He never really thought about whether or not some people only know him by one name, or if anyone else has ever been told different stories by multiple people and suddenly be faced with the reality that they were all one in the same.

As his mind sorted out all the different pieces and he could practically feel the smoke curling out of his ears, all the poor fool had falling out of his mouth was a confused and tired, “More than one apparently, fuck. I thought you’d been named after a fuckin’ fish,” he slapped his hands over his eyes and groaned shamefully, a bit of his own childlike attitude coming out as all the information overloaded him while he was safely with his two angels. “I thought it was Bassy like the fuckin’ fish, why would I have ever thought-” he cut himself off and thunked his forehead against the porch post and whispering to himself, “this shit’s fried as fuck.”

Anya watched the boy in amusement, her eyes softening at the moment of innocence. She knew more than enough about Allegra’s Ken Doll. He was part of Edenridge, Anya’s territory. She had to know at least surface information on everyone in the town but when she found out he had given her friend a child, her protective nature forced her to dig a little deeper. A boy whose only family was his brother searched for bonds in a town that fed off his pain. And everyone’s pain for that matter. Little did he know, he did have family. Good family too. That quietly watches over him in the shadows, like she has with Legs for as long as she’s known her.

This moment and how abundantly expressive Jade and her friends were, how raw, vulnerable, and familiar they were with one another, made Anya think of her sisters and how trauma too brought them closer together. Love was not something a trained killer should possess. Yet when she thought of her sisters, like Faye, as much as she was a thorn to her side, or her brothers, even if Hyde was beyond saving, or her Jade, someone she didn’t plan to like as much as she did, she couldn’t help but want to embrace the feeling and be like Mordechai right now. An untethered soul, who’s willing to not close his heart over all the pains and all the hardships he’s been through. Someone liberating himself from his chains. He might feel like a fool but in this childlike state he was more himself than he realized.

“Toast girl talks fondly of you two,” Anya disclosed, her grin never leaving her face as she took a step closer, dropping her guard. This wasn’t something the Basilisk did. She offered her hand for Jade to grab, signaling she was queued to leave whenever the foxy, Harley Head was ready, “We need to grab bite sometime.”

“... you want to eat with us?” Poppy blinked, trying to process everything that was transpiring. She was still stuck on the fact that Jade was dating Jane-Not-Jane the library assistant. What were the chances? This town felt big, whenever tragedy struck, but in this instant, it felt minuscule.

It’s a small world after all.

“Of course! You friends with Jade and I trust you good people.” Not a monster like her. “I can trust, right?” She allowed them a chance to speak for themselves on the matters of the heart. That she wouldn’t regret bridging this gap between her world and theirs. A dangerous game, if they only knew.

“I don’t know know about bein’ a good person, personally,” Mordechai replied honestly as he took in the reality of all the stories he’s absorbed over the years while finally meeting her eyes, on the receiving end of a knowing grin and not willing to try and lie. Knowing he never could lie to her, apparently. It was weird to admit, but he was feeling different emotions over meeting her, the different aspects of this woman who he’d met through nothing but words until now. The coldblooded Basilisk instilled him with a sense of nerves and awe, while Bassy had him worried over judgment about his and Allegra’s relationship and the mistakes he made there. Big Sister Jane left him wanting stories about Mika while also mildly defensive of his status as a non-blood sibling to Mika.

All of them left him wanting to know her more. The sister of his soul brother, just like Mitena was. It seemed like his found family continues to expand at a pace he can barely keep up with, and he wanted to learn them all before life pulled them apart again.

“But we can at least be trusted ta eat a meal and get ta know someone without bloodshed. I think we’re all too tired ta want another dramatic act where we all go our separate ways. How ‘bout y’all, He asked his angels. “Think we can all stay in one place ta eat this time?”

Jade had been quiet. Unusually so. She usually had a comment - an opinion about anything for any given situation. All with purpose, but between being stuck in her own mind for the most part and just watching Anya interact with those closest to her. It was surreal. Not so much for Jade because to her, Pancake named Anya wasn’t this folktale character or ‘Jane from the Library’. To her, she had always been Pancake, the person that she’d have early breakfast dates with every Sunday. The person who she’d make sure she had that time off like clockwork so she had that time to spend with her.

But it was kind of surreal for her that everyone close to her seemed to have a different name for her. She liked that. It showed that it wasn’t just her who thought Pancake was special and someone that everyone should know - she had a reach beyond the bubble of Dolly’s. Everyone should know how amazing she is.

Jade took her hand, smiling at her. Between her inability to do nothing but smile whenever she was around her and the recent feelings of getting back to where they were, Jade couldn’t do it around Pops or Key either. She couldn’t do anything but smile with them. Because that’s what the Angel Princess needed to do now. She spent too many long nights stuck in the past, locked away in her trauma and it kept her from being able to heal. Meeting Pancake that one fateful night was the start of…what happened in the past twenty-four hours. She wasn’t a spiritual person, but fate was something Jade could get behind. “I’d like that. And I think I know a place, too!” Jade almost cackled, looking between her family. The one she chose. The one who chose her.

Penelope’s green eyes dropped down to Jade grabbing hold of Anya’s hand. The older woman pulled her best friend to her side. She looked at that gesture and thought back to her dream she had earlier this day. The dream of her drowning. Before she tried to see how it felt, before she decided to sink and let the water take her breath away, she remembered them walking down a dirt path, through the woods, with a cooler and their swimming suits on, ready to enjoy a day in the sun. To forget their troubles and pretend they were kids that weren’t getting pulled away from each other. Pretend they didn’t have to grow up. Pretend that nothing would tear them apart, no matter what.

Sophomore year was the last inkling of unity they all had before it all went to shit and there she saw Charlie slow down, seeing his Poppy caught in a daze, staring up at the gleaming sun that slipped through the branches and the leaves. He offered his hand, just like Anya did with Jade. Just like Resi did with her, hours ago, when he took her to his van and told her his story. Even now, with her soul momentarily at peace, she felt the ache of his absence. The reservation was a wonderful place and she wished she could be here longer but it still reminded her of the man Charlie could’ve been if all they did was change his environment. “Sounds like a date then,” Poppy responded, subconsciously reaching for Decky’s hand, trying to grasp for support and comfort as they were nearing the time they’d have to say goodbye.

This wasn’t a goodbye.

This was a see you later.

As if the Basilisk could read the veiled pain on Poppy’s face, deep in her eyes — a smile wasn’t enough to fool the keen eyes of the Basilisk — Anya assured, trying her best to enunciate her words and speak with conviction, “I keep her safe. When I say this, I do not joke. Jade most important to me.”

Poppy’s grief was interrupted by the blunt and open confession this hot Russian woman just made for her best friend. Clearly the feelings were mutual and somehow Jane could read minds and knew Penelope was getting in her head. Poppy didn’t let go of Decky’s hand though. She still needed someone to be there for her. She still needed a friend. Their time at the reservation was almost over and reality would soon come crashing back in like a tidal wave. She wasn’t ready to go back home…

“Okay! So date. Jade you text friends where we go and when we go. Now, we leave?”

Just like so many times before, Jade couldn’t keep her guard up around Anya. That one comment she made in a declaration sort of way to Poppy and Key had made her face feel hot. “Y-yeah--” She coughed, trying to regain any modicum of her composure back. “Yeah! I’ll text you both later! Make sure to let me know as soon as you get back to town too! Okay?” Her blue-green gaze lingered on them.

Mordechai nodded to Anya and gripped Poppy’s hand back just as tightly as she held his, warmth swelling up through him at the words of confession that fell from the Basilisk’s lips. His Jade had done that, and likewise Mika’s sister had had a similar effect on the biker princess he called a sister of his own. Jade smiled that same bright grin she’d gotten earlier when speaking of her crush, only there was more confidence than contemplation behind her eyes now. His angels really were healing, and even though he never thought it would be possible, he was along for the ride.

They weren’t thriving yet, and he wasn’t naive enough to believe that up was the only direction they could go. Life will always be a rollercoaster of relapses, addictions, worries and woes, but as low as those could take them there was always the ascents, the sobriety, conviction, excitements and joys. They’d all gone off the rails, both in the past and recently, but somehow their cars always managed to link back up and find the track once more. They’d always have each other, even Charlie in some way, and Mordechai couldn’t help but smile back at them all as he finally accepted that in his heart. They were far from happy, but they had also somehow come far from the broken children that had fled the breakfast table that morning, and they were letting themselves take the chances to be happy that they so easily would have passed by before.

“Have a good ride back, Harley Head, we’ll hit ya up when we get back,” He assured before teasing, “Don’t forget ta hold on tight, I don’t know if ya know this but there’s no seatbelts on motorcycles so don’t be afraid to be handsy.”

“Call if you need anything!” Poppy blurted out. “Don’t disappear again, please…” she whispered afterwards, her voice trailing off as her eyes met with Jade’s.

Silence always spoke volumes with them, but this was different. It was different than sharing a glance and Jade would know everything running through Poppy’s mind. This wasn’t just that but a fear - a paranoia that Jade would do it again. She knew she wasn’t in that place still, but Poppy didn’t know it. That much the blonde could tell. “I promise. You have my word, Poppy. I’ll call both of you tonight.” In that moment, she had to think that both Key and Poppy knew she meant it with her whole soul.

Poppy had one voice telling her she did know Jade wouldn’t ghost her and that she trusted her best friend’s every word. Another voice told her that she’d get burned again and that rooted to her fear of her relationships being one sided. She hadn’t had a stable friendship with any of her childhood friends. She hoped this was only her self doubt, a stupid insecurity of her thinking she was unworthy of anyone else’s time, and not because Jade was speaking out of her ass. Deep down, Poppy knew this time was different. It just had to be. They all came too far for it not to be. Still, she had a creeping darkness trailing close behind her, reminding her that good things do not last forever. “You better,” she buried her worry and teased. “Or I’m shoving that promise up your ass.”

“So much passion in a tiny girl,” Anya chuckled, before pulling Jade with her to her bike, growing impatient, “We go, I give you my time. Spend it well.” After a couple more minutes, the two blondes were on the bike, Jade wearing Anya’s helmet. That was not up for debate. The Basilisk looked fixedly, one last time, at Mordechai and Penelope. Her eyes were ever so piercing, yet somehow, tender. All at the same time.

She called out to them and gave them one last gift.

“Anya! This is my name.”

She was sure in time they’d learn the value behind her name. Her real birth name. Anya just hoped it wasn’t anytime soon. A name was nothing but a name. People put meaning behind a name. And she had several. Still, her name, her real name, wasn’t something to use lightly in the town of Edenridge, especially since some of her older sisters hid in plain sight, always ready to get involved and fight.

To love someone was to open yourself up and be aware that there were sacrifices to be made and risks to take. To love was to be vulnerable to all those you care about or in this case, to open up to some of Jade’s family. Anya hoped Mordechai and Penelope appreciated this exchange and she looked forward to seeing their journey reach great heights and maybe one day to a destination they could live and settle in for the long haul. A destination where they’re happy. Whatever happiness may be to them.

What a day to dream.

Where myth becomes a memory and now, the not so lost trio, the ones chasing their dreams, could call the Basilisk an ally.

The myth. The legend. A friend.

Anya.

Jade’s Pancake.

Some chapters don’t always end when you think they will and Mitena found herself in just such a story

After her heart to heart with Penelope, the indigenous songstress believed that this unique and foundation shaking part of the story was over. She had spent time with each of the puzzle pieces that were the representatives of her late brother’s soul. Their arrival upon the dusty roads of Blue Hill was unexpected but not unwelcome. Tena had longed to understand Charlie more, to glimpse into the life of her spirit twin and understand why he made the choices he made. In her conversations with the Eden quartet, she had learned some but not all. It seemed that with Charlie, just when she thought she had all the answers, someone changed the questions.

She had said her goodbyes or at least she thought she had and was settling in at Silverheel when her Stargirl messaged her that the tale wasn’t over and that there was still something left unwritten; Mordechai wanted to meet with Mitena. The Serpent, her brother's comrade and close friend, a boy who lost his own blood due to the actions of the Raven. He had the most visceral and raw reaction when they held their earlier talks. If any one of them had words left unsaid, it was Decky and Tena wanted to give him as much time as he needed.

After hopping on her bike, the native beauty traversed the full length of the Blue Hill Reservation to reach Adora’s place. When she had arrived, she parked up next to the old tree where she remembered playing as a small child and stood next to it, her hands on her hips and her breathing heavy. She wasn’t sure what to expect from the next few minutes. Tena had learned that the Great Spirits plan during all of this was kind of haphazard and all over the place. She couldn’t predict it; she didn’t want to. She wanted to read on and see what came next.

Messy black hair greeted her as Mitena made her way to a bench to the west of the property which sat in the shadow of the hills. From a distance, she wondered if it could be Charlie but she knew better than that. She knew it was a part of him though, a part that was eating away at itself, a part that needed her. Tena took the seat next to Decky, crossing her legs towards him and staring up at the great green yonder. “You wrang?” She said in her best lurch impression. The next move was his.

The voice the native woman used prompted a small burst of laughter out of Mordechai. The serpent may not know much about Disney musicals or tv dramas, but the Addams Family was universal. It was actually a pretty good impression, too.

“I did, thanks for comin’ back ta Auntie’s so quick,” He began, eyes on the same tree she had parked next to as memories of climbing with Danny, Jokes, and Creed bubbled to the surface. Pure moments in his childhood were few and far between, but with Blue Hill being the first place the Boaz brothers ever went outside of Edenridge, removed from its influence and crushing grip, it was also the first place that the brothers actually acted like the young children they were at the time. Everyone that stayed around Adora seemed to understand that, and Mordechai remembered days where it wasn’t just the Southie boys climbing that tree, some of the rez kids also coming around to get to know the two boys who seemed to be adopted under the Diamondheart woman that was starting to build her home there. He absently wondered if at any point Tena was one of those children, like Forrest and Illara were.

“I’m sorry, for the way I responded earlier,” He finally continued once he’d collected his thoughts, looking into the deep brown eyes that seemed to try and read the hidden parts of his soul. “It wasn’t you. I was lookin’ for answers ta questions I should’a walked away from a while ago. I was actin’ like ya knew Charlie’s mind and reasons just ‘cause ya got letters from him, just ‘cause you’re his sister. Then ya said my nickname and I just-” He looked away, clenching his fists in his lap and taking a deep breath. “Danny gave me that name,” He smiled, and the action was full of sorrow and loss but it was a smile nonetheless, something he was slowly getting used to doing as he healed with each step he took. “He couldn’t pronounce my name when we were kids so that was all he could get out. It just became the runnin’ nickname because before I lost him I didn’t use my real name anywhere, so I was either Decky or Boa ta those close ta me,” He looked at her again as his smile lessened but didn’t disappear. “I just go by Mordechai now. Ya couldn’t have known any’a that, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to say sorry to me, for anything.” Mitena rested her hand on top of Decky’s quaking one and offered him a warm smile to carry with him. “I don’t know you, any of you. And you don’t know me. Everybody has lines and it’s only when we truly know someone that we learn that there’s space to colour outside of them.” Her deep doe eyes drifted to the same tree that her brother's soul sibling gazed upon and she let out a small little laugh. “I used to climb that tree as a kid. Fell on my ass, soooo many times.” She brushed some of her dark raven hair away from her face and returned her attention to him.

She wondered about his life and everything in it. She knew of the Decky in the book, the badass, the renegade. Tena read about his adventures and sat in awe. If anything, she may have had a little bit of a crush on the boy in the book. The man that sat with her was different. She could see in glimpses in his eyes that the boy who belonged in Neverland was still there but like her Charlie, he had been weighed down by hard times and harsh lives. Lacing her fingers with Mordechai’s, Mitena tried to capture his gaze. “So what do I call you then?”

Mordechai looked up from where he’d been looking at their joined hands in confusion. He hadn’t flinched when he reached out to him, hadn’t even twitched when she’d rested her hand on his and intertwined their fingers. Legs and his friends had done a wonderful job of reacclimating him to such gestures, normalizing them and reminding him that contact can be kind, but he still flinched more often than not before coming to Blue Hill. It was like his anxious, restless spirit were suddenly and finally settling beneath his skin. Trying to mirror the affection, learn her way of comforting, Mordechai squeezed her hand lightly like he had with Poppy earlier on the porch before responding to her, maintaining eye contact and letting her see him and the windows to his soul.

“Everyone’s got their own nickname for me,” He responded honestly. “Jade calls me Key, she shortened it from Grease Monkey after I started calling her Harley Head. Boa’s my Serpent name, someone I love calls me Mob. If ya want, we can just start with Mordechai and… and as we get ta know each other maybe somethin’ personal will come ta ya,” He reached up his free hand to scratch the back of his head in a tell of insecurity, and even in the moment he took the time to be proud he didn’t go for his track scars first. “I take on nicknames like Batman takes on family members.” He looked over at the tree once more, recalling her earlier comment.

“I’d been wonderin’ if we ever met before last night,” He admitted honestly, trying to search his faded memories for a face like hers. “I’ve been comin’ here since I was ten, stayin’ with Auntie Adora. Her sister Tama, her family would bring me and my lil’ brother here all the time. I think I actually sprained my ankle the first time I ate shit fallin’ from that tree.” It had freaked Adora out when he hadn’t cried at all, but of the adults and other kids staying with the young woman at the time, she was the only one that hadn’t seen Decky the night he and Sonny came to join the Serpents. A sprained ankle barely registers to him.

“Trust me, sweetie. You’d remember a face like this.” Tena teased with a wink. “Truth of the matter is, chances are I was working. After my mother passed I spent all my time on the farm helping out my Auntie Jay. So if we did pass, it was definitely as ships in the night.” Although she enjoyed joking with Mordechai, the young woman couldn’t help but feel a tinge of sadness. To hear that Decky and other Southies had spent some of their youth in the open ranges of Blue Hill and Charlie, who belonged there, never even visited as far as she knew, it was a dagger in the side.

“I hope you know that you’re always welcome here. You and the others.” Mitena tightened her grip slightly to match the southside man she held in her embrace. “Hell, maybe I’ll come to you. By the sounds of it I’m going to need to stop your friend Penelope off tomorrow morning. I think she likes it here.” A knowing smile crept upon her lips as she thought of the girl like a flower and the obvious and instant connection she had made with Tena’s cousin Forrest. “I’d like for us to be friends. What Charlie Jay did…I can’t undo that. I can’t forgive that. All I can do is offer you my heart in friendship and a home here whenever you need it. My brother described you once as the king of the lost boys. Maybe Blue Hill can be your neverland, Peter Pan.”

Mordechai’s heart twisted painfully at Mitena’s final words, and he fought the tears rising only because he refused to let melancholy take over the beautiful and important moment the two of them were creating together. King of the Lost Boys, the entirety behind the meaning was lost on him as he didn’t get the reference- not beyond knowing that Peter Pan was one of the books Charlie had had on his bookshelf from the first time Decky entered the other boy’s room to the bitter last- but the words alone seemed to peg Mordechai, or rather Decky, Boa down to a T. At ten years old he and Sonny had stumbled into the Serpents angry and broken, with no idea how to act with others. It was a wonder how Poppy, Charlie, and Jade had stayed around him before that; pure instinct and reaction, snapping at anyone too close to Danny or Sonny and no idea how to reciprocate friendship. They really put up with a lot when it came to him.

But then the Serpents had expanded his world beyond his locked down house and the school yard. He and Sonny had risen through the ranks like rockets shooting through the sky and by the time they were all getting tossed in Juvie, they’d become Captain and Lieutenant of the Carlisle Crew. He wasn’t stupid, all of them were lost somehow. Even the Legacies had their family traumas and histories. They were all lost, and they all understood each other. He thought back to the way the serpent den lit up when he’d returned last month, all his lost brothers seeming to lose some of the weight they’d just had on their shoulders.

He was important to them. Charlie saw that even when Mordechai himself couldn’t. Charlie always saw, just like his Angels did, and he shared what he saw with a sister he couldn’t see while Mordechai continued walking through his life blindly. He could only imagine how hard it was for Charlie, feeling so alone and so lost, to see Mordechai and Danny carrying each other through life and knowing he had someone out there he could feel that connection with. If only fate had dealt him a different hand.

“Thank you,” Mordechai whispered, lifting their joined hands up to his chest and dropping his head as if he were praying. With the light breeze carrying leaves and birdsong all around them, the moment truly felt like a spiritual experience. “For helpin’ us. Poppy, Jade, me…” Even Puff, He thought though didn’t say out loud. “You’ve sat there and played healer ta a bunch’a broken people. We all dropped so much on ya, but I know you’ve gotta be hurtin’ too. So thanks, for bein’ strong when we couldn’t, and understandin’ where we were confused. I’d love ta get ta know ya and see ya again,” He thought to her comment on Poppy and his own small smile took over his lips. He hadn’t missed her earlier mention of Resi at all- he’d just been far too confused by her bagel comment to register the rest of her words- and he knew what it meant when someone’s mere name made his Street Angel glow like that. Like she’d glowed around Charlie. Just like he’d known with Jade when she talked about Anya. He looked back up and steadied his gaze on hers once more. To show Mitena his appreciation, to open himself up to her as fully as she had to him and the other Edenites, Mordechai ended his schmaltz with, “If you’re gonna be comin’ inta town, maybe you’d…maybe you’d like ta meet my kids? I got a daughter, Viva, who I became a dad ta on accident,” He laughed, remembering his reaction the morning before when she’d introduced herself to Jade with his last name slapped on as well. “And a son, Chai. He ain’t even a year old yet.”

“I would love that.” Tena could feel the tears begin to well in her eyes to match Decky’s. In that moment she realised she could be a surrogate for her brother. She could enter the lives of these fractured people and be for them what Charlie could’ve been had he not given up on himself. She could be a friend, a healer, a lover and a soulmate. Reaching upwards, Mitena took a hold of Decky’s handsome face and kissed him. This was not to be misconstrued as a romantic moment, this was her thanking him. Thanking him for letting her in and letting her be what their Charlie could not. She pulled herself away and dried the tears in the Serpents eyes with a smile. “Thank you for letting me in.”

Wiping her own eyes, Tena leaned back against the bench and let out a great sign. “Well this has been a very emotional day. I am absolutely getting shitface drunk tonight…then maybe I’ll run myself a bath, play a little Boyz II Men and have a cry.” She laughed out loud at her own joke before glancing down at her wrist and Charlie’s leather brace. “Spirit, he’s such a dick.”

Mordechai had accepted the kiss for the thanks that it was and settled back down beside her, following her gaze to her brother’s bracelet. Mitena was an extremely openly affectionate person, she wore her emotions on her face even as she read those of her conversational partner like a book. Decky grew up using physical interaction to fill a void he didn’t understand, staring into an abyss that never stared back, it looked like Tena used it to traverse the abyss and discover new things, to share her knowledge and strength. She was someone that people like him and his angels, people like Natalia, deeply needed.

“Yeah, yeah maybe,” He replied with a small huff of laughter, his smile finally settling on his face. “In his own fucked up way though, he laid the foundation for us all ta meet. If he’d never reached out ta ya, if it weren’t for that assignment I couldn’t even do, ya never would’ve known about us before we got here, and shit could’a gone a lot worse. Ronnie wouldn’t’ve known ta send us here with that lil’ white lie’a hers. Those two were always lookin’ out for others more than themselves,” he closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the fresh air. “I’m sorry it took all this for us ta meet. It’s at the cost’a your energy and mind. I actually meant ta just say sorry an’ ask ta meet another time, but I guess Blue Hill still had plans for me. I’m not gonna tell ya or ask if you’re gonna be ok, that shit never works for me, and I don’t make promises. You can call me, though,” Mordechai brought his phone out and handed it over to the young rocker once he got to the contacts page. “I got a friend that always falls inta the roll’a Healer, and I know how taxin’ it can be. Don’t do it alone, please.”

Tena gently stroked Mordachai’s face. “I’m never alone.” She said as she raised her hand once again to show off her brother's brace. “Charlie Jay is always with me. Same as he’s with you and Penelope, Natalia and Jade. He’s a part of us. All of us.” She was hesitant to name which part because she didn’t know. Charlie had a lot about him and to fracture his soul into pieces for them all to carry? That sort of medicine was special. “Don’t worry about me.” She quickly typed her number into his phone and handed it back. “I’ll definitely call you. A lot sooner than you think.” Tena got up to her feet and dusted herself off, trying to discard any sadness into the wind.

“You better fly home soon, Peter Pan. There’s lost children waiting to be rescued.”

Despite how she is always smiling and outwardly bubbly the cheerleader is, Stacy Čapek isn’t what everyone believes her to be. Maybe it’s the Zima way to internalize the way you feel. She’s watched Mika do it for so many years, so maybe that’s how she learned how to fake being happy when she was actually miserable. She didn’t always used to be like this, but for close to a year now, Stacy had to become a master at this because of her boyfriend.

Because of Dylan.

To many on the outside looking in, Dylan was the nicest boy they’d ever meet. Charming and compassionate (when he wanted to be). He was thoughtful. And Stacy still, on some level, thought that about him even to this day. Dylan was like the storm that hit Edenridge last night, the one that she spent the entirety of in Swerve Arcana. He could be gentle, but then when the overcast skies came and the downpour hit you, like a switch, Dylan Doyle was a nasty person. Rarely has he ever been physically violent with her…not like that was ever his method of choice. Dylan was a gaslighter. An emotional abuser. He was the kind of person, when he felt like being nasty, made her feel like it was her fault for doing something he deemed wrong. When she didn’t answer his calls, he made her feel like she should have picked up sooner.

It had been like this for close to half of a year, but last night -- or more accurately, this morning -- was when even Dylan had hit an all-time low.

It would be her luck that immediately following the best night in Stacy’s life would come a harsh reality check for her at the metaphorical hands of her boyfriend.

When she got home a little bit after 8am, she and Katie managed to return without their Uncle Gus and Aunt Ester finding out exactly where they were. As far as they knew and as far as they would ever know, they spent the night at a friend’s house. That friend, who conveniently didn’t have to worry about their parents, was known to cover for them. In truth, if they even knew they were heading into Edenridge, there was no doubt in Stacy’s mind they would be grounded until they became parents. It was smooth sailing once they got home, but Stacy’s brief dance with safety was short lived as she got a text message from Dylan.

Seeing the text and how it just read “Call me”, Stacy was hesitant. She didn’t want ot come off the euphoric high after being to experience how a good person treated another, but she knew it would only be worse. So Stacy called him back after locking her room.

“Hey, babe--”

Before she could finish, Dylan cut her off. “Can you meet me in Edenridge? I want to apologize. For how I may have sounded in the texts I sent you last night. Please, Stassie, I want to make it up to you.”

She was so confused. This wasn’t like the Dylan she feared would be on the other end of that call, but as she thought about it for a moment, occasional “Stassie? Are you there?” remarks coming from Dylan’s end, she buried her doubts deep and agreed.

Fast forward nearly an hour after getting ready, eating a light yogurt and mixed berry breakfast, Stacy drove her 2017 BMW 3 Cabrio from Pinehurst, taking the highway and taking the nearest exit into town. Stacy took the scenic route through town, going from the Southside to the Northside had been an adjustment for Stacy. Seeing how run down some parts in the south were, then going over the set of train tracks, it was like night and day. It amazed her just how much separated the status of wealth in this town, yet from what she’s seen, the only divide is physical.

As she drove through Main Street, turning a left on Woodland Avenue and then a right on Pleasantview, Stacy took to the old high school, which was now the upcoming Encanto Hotel and Casino. In front of it, she saw Dylan’s truck, as well as her boyfriend standing at the early stages of the construction of the hotel. She parked on the street and exited her car, feeling an eerie ominous feeling in the air. Dylan didn’t look at her. He just stared at the empty lot with some walls put up.

As Stacy approached, Dylan turned his head and smiled at her. “You are late.”

Her gentle smile immediately turned upside down on itself, much like the feeling in her stomach did whenever her boyfriend became unexpectedly nasty towards her. “Sorry. There was some traffic on the highway.” Stacy’s tone fell flat, almost robotic as she took her side next to Dylan. His hand was out like he was expecting her to read his mind. It took her a moment and she put it in his and he squeezed, but missed the hand altogether and was grabbing her wrist almost like it was a vice grip on her slender wrist. She kept any noise of discomfort inside and just gritted through it. “So, this is where the hotel is being built?”

Dylan nodded and then shrugged. “A waste if you ask me. Why build something that will cost more to build than it will bring into this poor excuse for a town? It has nothing over the hotels in Pinehurst.”

Stacy felt just how angry he was. Was it because of what she did last night? How she didn’t call him? How she ignored his texts? Stacy had learned in the past six months that, whenever Dylan got into a mood like this, she had to approach him as if he was thin ice on a New York Winter. The slightest misstep would trigger that storm-like anger her boyfriend had inside him. She was confident that she could do so right now, but something else was in the air. That ominous feeling she felt as soon as she saw him, she could tell it wasn’t just about her.

“What makes you say that, Dylan?” She hesitantly asked.

As he looked at her, his hazel eyes which were always so captivating and rarely showing a forest fire, she saw specs of the wildness a forest fire had. “It’s these…people.” He returned to the sight of the crew working. He focused on one and Stacy followed his line of sight and she saw Salvadore. Her heart was practically beating so fast she couldn’t control her breathing.

“What people?”

“Are you stupid or blind, Stassie?” He pointed to the crew. “Those working there. Some idiot reported me.”

“Reported you?” Stacy felt that familiar discomfort in her chest. Whenever Dylan was about to do something that still haunted her nightmares six months after the fact, she felt a tightness in her chest.

“You’re slow today, aren’t you? I was part of this crew, Stassie. I had a job here. I was going to still have one throughout the summer, but that fucking idiot in charge thought I was being too lazy.” His voice got louder, the tone in his voice becoming more bitter and bitter the longer he talked. Resentful. Stacy knew this tone of voice. She knew what was coming. “Me? I have never been lazy in my life. I carried the Monarchs last year. Without me, the baseball team would be nothing!” As his ire became more intense, Dylan squeezed harder on Stacy’s wrist.

“Dylan..” She whimpered, trying to free herself from his hold. “You’re hurting me. Please, calm down…” She begged him and immediately, as his sharp gaze fell on her watery eyes, she knew something he had never done was coming. Or maybe she feared he would hit her. In the time she had seen the real him, she always feared it would happen. She played dumb so she didn’t wouldn’t trigger it, but something in him was about to snap.

And instinctively, she tried to fight his grip off of her hand but he was too strong. He was deceivingly strong.

He looked at the fighting, petite girlfriend of his with a small laugh and a shocked expression on his face. “I would never hurt you, Stassie. I love you!” At this point, his voice was loud enough for the workers in the hotel site to hear. “You know this is just our thing. I grab your wrist and we play this game. Why are you acting like I did something wrong?” He jerked her close to him, never letting go of her wrist. “I mean, you want to make it up to me for ignoring me last night, don’t you?” As he said that, he lifted her wrist up. Stacy was a few inches shorter than Dylan, so that motion itself was hurting her arm even more than his vice grip on her wrist was.

Salvador had never planned on being a bricklayer. When he first got into college, his goal was to be a videogame designer. Much of his youth was spent traveling the world as his mother and father built hotels and casinos. His sister Cassandra soaked up all their skills like a sponge. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Cass was going to take over the family business. On those lonely nights, Sal found himself immersed in epic fantasy worlds as a Witcher, waiting for coins to be tossed his way or as a space commander about to go on a suicide mission with his ride or die Turian cop bro. The purpose of the young Montero’s life was to build worlds that made him feel like those games did when he had nothing else.

Then it happened.

Sal had returned to Miami for a break, to see his family and rest up after a hard semester. He wanted to surprise them. When he arrived at the hotel, it was late and quiet, more quiet than it should've been all things considered. When he walked into the office floor, Salvador was expecting his mother to jump up from her desk, run and hug him and then take him to the Twice Butter food truck for some tacos. Instead he was greeted by her mangled body, crumpled at the foot of the stairs. Her neck was twisted at an ungodly angle and blood was still leaking out of her nose and ears. They said it was an accident, that she slipped and fell. Yet knowing the business his family was in, Sal believed differently.

They said he was depressed. He couldn’t eat, he couldn’t sleep, the world didn’t make sense. Even his games brought him no joy. He was struggling with his studies and all of his personal relationships had become extinct. The move to Edenridge was meant to be a change. Sal would defer college for a little while and spend some time with his extended family, the Gonzalez to find himself again. Getting a gig working on the new hotel wasn’t for a paycheck, he didn’t need the money, it was just to keep him busy.

He had spent the day dreaming about the girl from Swerve, Stacy. Sal just couldn’t get her out of his mind. He was knee deep in mud, laying bricks when he saw her pull up outside the construction site. At first he thought maybe she had come to see him but then he saw her with another guy, Dylan, the other worker called him. Apparently he had been fired the day before. He wasn’t crossing any boundaries so he wasn’t breaking any laws. At least that was until Sal saw him grab Stacy and the raised voices began. Now that was something he couldn’t abide. He knew, based on their interactions at Swerve, Stacy was scared of this guy and the last thing he wanted was Stacy. She was meant to be happy.

Jumping out of the foundation pit, Salvador charged towards the chain link fence, still with a brick in his hand and stormed around the corner until he was face to face with Dylan and Stacy. “Hey man, you need to let go of her and get the hell out of here.”

Dylan still held Stacy’s hand as tight as he had when he heard a voice and glanced over. He saw a little punk acting all tough. “Beat it, kid. This doesn’t concern you.” Dylan brushed him off almost immediately and he saw the way Stacy was trying not to look at him, but Dylan could see it. “Oh, you’re kidding me, right? You actually know this nerd?” His grip tightened. “Is this the chump you ignored me for? He has to be or why else are you acting this way?” His grip remained and he put his attention on the interfering idiot. “So is it true? You’re fucking my girlfriend, aren’t you?” He asked Sal while simultaneously tightening the grip on Stacy’s hand, which caused her to let out a painful moan as she tried to pull away (but to no avail).

“You need to let her go, back the fuck up and get in your truck.” Sal tried to remain calm despite every instinct to the contrary but the Latino heat he shared with all fellow men of the Montero/Gonzalez clan would not allow him to do so.. “I’m not fucking your girlfriend but if I was I would be treating her like the absolute Angel that she is. I wouldn’t be hurting her because my ego has taken a blow.” With that, Sal slapped down Dylan’s arm that was clutching into Stacy. “Leave now. There’s no place for you here and there’s no place for you beside Stacy. She deserves so much better.”

Dylan Doyle had a moment of shock when the nerd easily separated his hold from Stacy, who immediately backed away, grasping her clearly bruised wrist with her other. Dylan angrily snarled at his girlfriend only to redirect it on the interfering piece of shit that was about to regret every life choice. “Stassie, let this be a lesson to you and the company you keep.” His arrogance was showing and Dylan wasn’t even letting up. His head turned to Stacy, who was visibly terrified of her boyfriend. It was clear on the way she slowly moved herself closer to the construction site where Sal was and further away from him. “Last chance to apologize, Stass. Because what I’m about to do to your little side boyfriend won’t be pretty--”

WHACK

The brick bounced off of Dylan’s skull and knocked the snarling boy to the ground. Salvador immediately dropped the block and took a step back, his hand shaking. He didn’t want to do that but did he have a choice? Dylan was hurting Stacy and would’ve definitely attacked him. At that moment, Sal asked himself what his cousin ReyRey would do? Rey was the leader of the Serpents and to Salvador he was the coolest guy in any room. He was so confident, so in control. Nobody dared mess with Reynaldo and his people. Sal wanted that. He was sick and tired of people, nay the world, messing with him and the people he cared about; people like Stacy.

He turned to face the young girl and reached out his still quivering hand. He wasn’t scared of what he had done, he was more scared that she would be frightened of him now. Though he stood by it, Sal had to do it, to protect her. “Are you ok?”

Stacy was frozen where she stood. She had disassociated from reality the moment she was free from Dylan’s vice grip. Nothing after that registered until she heard Sal’s soothing voice. The tenderness in his eyes, when she met them she could only nod as she saw Dylan on the ground. He wasn’t unconscious, but he wasn’t moving much. She wanted to ask what happened, but close to his feet, she saw a brick with blood on it. She again went to her…to Dylan and saw a sizable gash on his forehead with traces of that reddish-brown brick inside it. Slowly, but absolutely sure of it: Sal had hit Dylan with that brick. She didn’t know what to think of it, but part of her was happy he did. Dylan had gotten progressively worse as of late and this was the most violent he ever became with her.

She just didn’t know.

“You motherfucker! You’ll pay for this!” Dylan cursed, getting up as he held his forehead with one of his hands. He saw how chummy Stacy and that cheapshot fucker were and he laughed. Boldly and almost psychotically, he was laughing. “You know, I really tried with you, Anastasia, but I guess even someone as pretty as you can only do so much.” At his feet, Dylan glared at Sal. “Fine, I’m out of here. When she starts seeing other dudes behind your back, you might want to know who to call. Dylan Doyle. Remember that name when you need advice.” Despite his condition, Dylan left. Sure the larger men at the site staring at him were reason enough, but Dylan had lost all interest in Stassie and he was worth way more than what she was capable of giving.

As she watched Dylan climb into his F150 and it revved down the street, Stacy’s lips quivered. “Maybe he’s right…” She heard herself say. Out loud it sounded so stupid and ridiculous, but that’s what Dylan had called her. Maybe she was stupid. Maybe she truly wasn’t worth anything.

“Absolutely not.” Sal wouldn’t allow her to finish whatever sad thought was lingering in her brain. “Don’t let him get in your head.” Dylan Doyle. He would remember the name but not for the reasons that Longstreet wanted him to. Salvador would remember him in case he tried to come back, in case he tried to do anything like this again. He had known a lot of men like Dylan Doyle. Men who were so small on the inside that they had to abuse others to make them feel important. In those next few seconds he knew that if he ever saw Dylan again, he would kill him.

The young man from Miami didn’t want to encroach on Stacy’s personal space, especially considering what he had just gone through but he felt that she needed the comfort. Sal took a step forward, reaching out and cupping her face with his hand. “I’m here, you’re ok. Why don’t we get you outta here? Can I take you home? Or somewhere you’d feel safe?”

She was trying not to let what Dylan said take root in her mind, but even a poisonous tree had to lay its fruit somewhere and it was spreading wildly inside. It was feeding off of the long standing effects Dylan’s gaslighting and the many kinds of emotional abuse had left on Stacy’s self-worth. He had reduced her to a doubting shell of the once vibrant girl she was before him, but as she felt the aura of Sal’s compassion near her, she smiled just thinking about him. Then again smiled more when she felt his hand on her face. His touch was gentle and warm. It radiated something she hadn’t felt from someone who held a genuine concern in their heart for her.

She brought her hand up over his and closed her eyes. She wanted to savor this moment. Prolong this feeling she couldn’t shake. “I…don’t want to go home yet.” Stacy really didn’t. She wanted to be with Sal. She didn’t know what might happen, but she wasn’t ready to face her family right now. “Can we just..go for a drive? Through town maybe?” She had opened her eyes finally, feeling the tears go down her hot face. “Or even just a walk..” The truth was Stacy didn’t care where they went. She just wanted to spend time with Sal for as long as she could. Live in a bliss where she didn’t have to think or talk about Dylan Doyle anymore.

“Sure, of course we can.” Sal knew the look of someone who didn’t want to go home. Hell, he had seen it in the mirror a lot himself whenever he thought about his Mom. He felt her fingertips tracing the veins on the back of his hand, traversing every bump and freckle. “Though I haven’t got a car here yet so we’ll have to walk wherever you wanna go.” He glanced over at the other workers as they turned their heads and continued to ply their trade. He knew that if he dipped out early with Stacy, they wouldn’t breathe a word. Sal was the son of Esteban Montero, the cousin of ReyRey, nephew to Big Rey. He was untouchable. Lacing his fingers with hers, Sal dropped them down to their waists and began to lead Stacy away from the construction site. “How about we walk down to Swerve? Or maybe that nice coffee shop on the corner, Beau’s? Maybe both.”

There was a part of the Capek girl who wanted to mention her car was down the street, but when Sal took her hand and started to walk her down the street, in addition to her heart beating like it did last night, Stacy didn’t want to ruin what was the first time she was at peace. Dylan was gone and Sal was here. She knew nothing bad would happen to her as long as she was by his side. Was it blind faith to trust someone she had only known for less than a day? Maybe. She could hear Mika’s voice in the back of her head, but at the same time, she knew her big brother would want her to be with someone who made her feel safe. Who could protect her when she couldn’t do that herself.

Someone like Sal.

“I’d like that. Very much.” She muttered tenderly, moving closer to Sal as she looked at him. She felt a flutter of butterflies in her stomach and smiled. This was giving way to a new beginning for Anastasia Capek.

Stacy had remained mostly quiet throughout the entire walk. It wasn’t that she didn’t have anything to say or that what had happened was still eating away at her. In the reality of it all, she was still overwhelmed by it and she wanted to savor the time spent with Sal and with their hands locked together, fingers interlaced, but above all, she didn’t know what to say. Maybe part of it was Dylan’s mind games yet again preventing her from embracing this blissful moment entirely.

But what she knew to be absolutely certain was, despite Dylan’s residual effects still on her mind, it wasn’t enough to completely undo how happy the cheerleader was. Nothing could take away the fact she knew she was protected. No amount of second guessing or Dylan Doyle’s voice in her head would undo what Salvadore Montero did for her today.

She allowed herself to look around, see the street, the local businesses, the life of Edenridge. What Mika had told her about this place over the years didn’t do any of it justice. She always felt like he didn’t like Edenridge enough to brag about some of the places that she was seeing as they walked down the street. “It’s beautiful here. I adore the charm these shops have.” She was smiling, looking at Sal. “I can see why my sister loves coming here so much. Even after last night, it’s such a vibe.”

“I used to visit once or twice a year.” Salvador mused. He knew bringing up the events that had just unfolded was not what Stacy needed at that time. She needed to decompress and relax. Being forced to face something sometimes was the best way to deal with it but other times all it did was make things far worse, Sal was living proof of that. “I have a bit of family here so when my Dad got the call about maybe building a hotel here, he got real excited.” He could see the light smiles crossing Stacy’s lips the deeper they got into town and the further away from the site of Dylan’s rage. She had such a beautiful smile. Reaching the popular cafe called Rochambeau, Sal stopped for a second to open the door. “Shall we, m’lady?”

He has family here too?! Stacy wanted to ask so badly if maybe he knew her brother. That would be one small world and even more than that, she wanted to just live the normal life. She wanted to be able to go where she pleased. But right now, her mind was thinking about how she just wanted to introduce Sal to Mika. Both who have been heroes to her and one in only such a short amount of time.

Shaking herself out of her deep thought, she giggled as she walked through the door, indulging him as she turned to face him, curtsying like she was a dame from Downton Abbey. “Why thank you, Ser Sal!” She couldn’t stop giggling, taking his hand yet again, this time pulling him inside.

“You realize I’m Mexican right? I’m no Sir, I’m probably your slave. Not that that could ever be a bad thing.” Sal didn’t know whether that was a witty comment or whether he had just very blatantly put his massive foot in his massive mouth. He took off the baseball cap he had on to protect his eyes from the summer sun. His mother always said wearing a hat indoors was bad luck. “Sorry that was awful. I’m so used to being around…yeah no never mind.”

He followed the young girl into the coffee shop. It definitely wasn’t anything like any of the Starbucks he was used to in Miami. It was much more homely. Well decorated, classic interior, almost like walking into someone’s living room. The soft soulful background noise reminded him of some long forgotten lounge in the darkest and most interesting parts of Harlem. Salvador wrapped his arm around Stacy as they made their way towards the counter. “What would you like? My treat.”

Stacy couldn’t stop giggling at Sal’s joke. It was bad but in the best ways. In a lot of ways, she couldn’t help but feel he and her brother would get along amazingly. They both told jokes like that. The kinds that would make people roll their eyes at them but also make them smile wider than they ever had. Much like Salvador was doing for her right now.

She knew of this place. Everyone knew about Rochambeau Cafe. Stacy may have lived in Pinehurst, but even people from her high school knew about this cafe. Whenever Pinehurst would have a game in Edenridge, she and the girls from the squad would make their way here. She had small conversations with the owner, Mr. Beau. He was a lot like her Uncle Gus. Wise and full of life. She also heard about the cafe from Mika a few times, said the beignets were to die for. Along with the coffee. Couldn’t go wrong with them, he’d say.

“My brother says the beignets are to die for. Oh and the blueberry biscuits. The soft bake kind. OH and maybe a…oh what did he say? Pastel de Nata?” Stacy felt like she was getting greedy, but with everything going on today with Dylan, she forgot to eat. “Sorry, that’s too much. I can just have a beignet if it’s too much.” She bit her lip nervously.

“There’s no such thing as too much, there’s only what we can handle.” It wasn’t a great philosophy but Salvador was doing his best to be somewhat charming for the beautiful girl that clung to his arm.

His mind drifted to his childhood, to one particularly rainy Miami evening. Both he and Cass had come down with the flu. Esteban too was fighting off the illness, drenched in machismo and cough medicine but Ivelisse had forbidden him from working. Thus both hoteliers were stuck in their penthouse with their very sick children. Sal was a needy child and wanted all the food. Cass was happy to sit and watch her father pretend not to work. Throughout the entire evening, Ivelisse continued to order more and more food for Sal to eat. In hindsight it was probably a lesson in greed but at the time, all it did was make him happy. The night ended with the family together, watching The Princess Bride, Esteban and Cassie passed out asleep and Sal struggling to stay awake but with his mother smiling from ear to ear as she stroked his hair and mouthed along to every line of dialogue. She seemed happy.

The reason he thought of that day was because he had realized that Stacy was doing the same thing he did, trying to eat away the pain and distract herself by laughing at his corny jokes. Perhaps she needed a night like that just like he did. Salvador bowed his head in his best Dread Pirate Roberts impression towards his Princess Buttercup. “As you wish.” He went up to the counter and smiled at the jolly man standing there with his eyes that were once buried in a book now glowing welcomingly at the young pair. “Can we get two beignets, two nata, two blueberry biscuits and I’ll have a chai latte. Stacy, what would you like to drink?”

Stacy, on some level, had always been so used to apologizing for her sometimes gluttonous and indulgent cravings. It didn’t help that she always had a major sweet tooth. She typically kept it in check through dieting and rigorous exercising, but lately it had been the last thing on her mind. And now it still was but for a better reason. “Iced chocolate mocha frappe, but can I get it with almond milk instead of whole?” Stacy’s first instinct was to look to Sal, but she also gave her attention to the infamous Mr. Beau himself, whose whole aura reminded her so much of her Uncle Gus. She didn’t know if it was ever appropriate, but she felt like he could hear all of her bad days and offer the best advice or just a hug to make it all better. At least, that’s what Mika always said about Antoine Beauregard.

“You heard the lady.” Salvador beamed at the older man behind the counter. “Iced chocolate mocha frappe with almond milk.” He reached into his overalls for some change and realized in that moment that he was certainly not dressed for a coffee date. Catching a glimpse of his reflection in the shop window, Sal noted his black hair looming shaggy beneath his turned back baseball cap, his body was only covered by a white tank and his lower half by dirty, paint covered overalls which he had borrowed from one of ReyRey’s people. God, how could she even stand to look at him like that. Shaking away the negativity, Sal pulled out a few dollars and slipped them over to the large gentleman.

“Why don’t you lovebirds take a seat? Back corner booth is free. I’ll bring over your order.” Beau smiled as he always did as he tossed the cash in the register and began to prepare Sal and Stacy’s food and drinks. Today seemed to be a day for love and couples. It was started with Miss O’Hara and Miss Kaine and then Miss Navarro and Mister Takahashi. Now it seemed it was with the two young folk that he wasn’t too familiar with; though he did recognise the boy from previous sparse visits. Maybe once a year, he was a relative of his old friend Big Rey Gonzalez. The duo seemed infatuated with each other based on their gazes. It made Beau miss Colleen, he couldn’t wait for her to be home from visiting Genevieve in New York. It also made him wonder when his children would find the same love that he had with his wife? It made him wonder when he would be a grandfather. He was getting older and time was creeping up fast.

As Beau lovingly prepared their order, Sal led Stacy by the hand to the booth that the jovial man had directed him to. He allowed Stacy to sit first before taking his seat directly opposite her. “I just wanna say….I’m glad you wound up at Swerve last night. I don’t think there’s anywhere else I would’ve rather have waited out the storm, especially considering the company…”

It was impossible for Stacy to withhold a giggle. She knew who he was referring to. Between that very assertive blonde, Bron and the crazy-haired dude who nearly gave her a heart attack, she and Sal stood out like sore thumbs. Even Marco seemed to fit in more than they did. “I’m happy I did too. In truth, part of me thinks that me being there was such a happy accident, but I don’t think it was.” She pondered on yesterday’s events. She knew it was risky coming to Edenridge. She understood some of the risks, but maybe she just couldn’t stay away. MAybe she was just like her father and brother, after all. She had only intended to come to this town to meet up with Adam, but then she met Marco and that made a lot of things out of her control unfold in such a chaotic way.

Stacy never believed in accidents. Fate was something close to her heart. Maybe the hopeless romantic in her needed to believe in that. She sometimes felt like it was her fate to be with someone like Dylan. Like maybe because of the man her father was, but she tried not to think of it like that. But meeting Salvadore yesterday, bonding with him, being happy with him. That also was fated to be. “Do you believe in fate? Or that things were meant to happen so other things later down the road could be made possible?” She let her mind wander again, trying to decide if mentioning something that she knew she shouldn’t was a good idea, but looking at Sal, she knew she could trust him.

“Hm, that’s a good question.” Taking his seat opposite Stacy just in time for Beau to bring their coffee and treats, Sal leaned against his fist as he pondered her musings. His family was not a peaceful one. They were violent criminals who did not think twice about shooting someone in the street and mincing their bodies into dog meat. Yet they were religious, praying to Gods and believing with absolutely certainty that what they did was for some greater good and cause. If he were to believe in fate, then all the heinous acts of the world had to happen for a reason. The difficulty in that belief could be found in not knowing what the reason was. “I guess sometimes.” He responded. “I guess my opinion changes day to day.” Salvador thought about it some more; if his mother hadn't died he wouldn’t be in Edenridge, he wouldn’t be in that booth with Stacy and his stomach wouldn’t have butterflies. “Today, I do.”

Stacy felt something in her stomach tighten during the long pause that Salvador took. She knew she asked a heavy question. Even as she asked it and thought about what her reasoning could be for asking such a deep question, she knew just how loaded of an inquiry it was. Before today, she never gave it much thought herself, but as she gripped her wrist, only holding it with a light grasp, she thought about today. About Dylan. About how he changed the way she looked about the world. Maybe that was overdramatic for her to think. He just grabbed her wrist. It’s not like Dylan actually hurt her past making her feel small in such a vast world.

“I’m so happy to hear that. Because I do too!” She said that so fast she didn’t hear it until a few seconds. “I mean, not happy but just…relieved that we both feel the same about it.” As she took a sip of her ultra-sweet drink, she thought about what she wanted to say. She felt so safe and even protected with Salvador, more than she ever did under her uncle and aunt’s roof and she just couldn’t stop thinking about Mika, how he sacrificed so much to keep her and Katya out of danger, but no matter where they went, that was always going to find them. Dylan proved that. “I used to not give it much thought. Like I always believed in fate, but only half-heartedly. Things happen for a reason and nothing could change that, but today…” She took another short, though it felt like a long one, sip from her mocha. “I know I mentioned my brother and if I told you what I want to tell you, he’d probably kill me in a way an older brother who just loves me too much could. But I feel like I can trust you. And, if I’m being honest, I need to tell somebody. And you’re the only person who I feel comfortable enough with to let it all out to.” In her head, she knew she wasn’t making much sense. Not about what she wanted to vent off her chest nor what she could only imagine what it might be like for Sal to hear this. “Sorry, I know I’m not making any sense.” She instinctively went for one of the beignets to stop her from saying anything she knew was foolish of her to do so, chomping away on the fluffy pastry, getting momentarily lost in its goodness.

Sal was a little taken aback. What sort of secret could this angel gracing Earth actually have? Whatever it might be, he knew one thing, he knew that it wouldn’t change the warmth he was feeling enveloping his heart every time he looked into her eyes. Getting up from his seat, the boy from Miami moved around the table until he was at Stacy’s side and sat down next to her. He left a little space between them as he didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable and smiled. “You can tell me anything, Stace.” He rested his arm on the back of the booth as his dark eyes looked at her. “But you don’t have to either. We can just sit here and enjoy our food.”

Stacy wanted so badly to just spill her guts about her family. Keeping this secret in was so hard. Keeping the truth about her family was hard on her heart. As much as she understood some of the gravity of why they had to keep it a secret. Ivan Zima, her father, wasn’t a good man. It was an adjustment to realize this because she always looked up to her father, but in truth, her memory of Ivan was only that of vague memories. Uncle Gus was more of a father than her own had been even before she and Katie and Mika were sent away. But knowing the full truth about him made her question a lot she once held dear to her. Maybe that’s part of why she was drawn to Dylan, but it wasn’t everything.

She didn’t know what to do. The only thing right now that made sense was Sal and how just being near him made her feel empowered. Maybe that’s all she needed right now and what she thought she needed to say to what? Get a load off? Maybe that wasn’t what she really wanted.

As she leaned against his chest, she closed her eyes for a few moments. She tried to clear her mind of just two thoughts: did she want to tell Sal about her family because it was something she felt like she had to or because it was something he needed to know? She knew the answer was somewhere, but maybe it didn’t need to be clear right now. There was so much going on in her head right now. Dylan still was ever-present in there but so were these feelings she knew she had for Salvador. And she still had the frame of mind to understand that, right now, she wasn’t thinking clearly.

“We should chow down. Before it gets cold,” she giggled but she didn’t move from where she was against his chest. She didn’t want to move.

“We probably should.” Sal raised his hand and began to caress the back of Stacy’s head as she hid herself in his embrace. Whatever she wanted to tell him could definitely wait until she was in a better headspace. He was ok with waiting. Right now what she needed was just to be with someone who could be there and present for her. Salvador had all the intention of being just that. He glanced over at the smiling man at the counter who quickly averted his gaze back down to the pages of the book he was reading. Sal really wasn’t sure what to make of everything that had happened in the last two days and he especially wasn’t sure what to think of what was growing between him and Stacy.

All he did know was that he didn’t want it to stop.

The moment of truth was here. After Chase handed Baby Peach — his pretty little princess — to his brother, telling him to be gentle with her, and after setting up both the kitten’s feeding area and litter station, he was ready to do what Maya told him and `give it to her straight’ because ‘she deserves to know`. Whether it was girls in general or just Maya, his friend made it seem like talking about feelings and why you want to be with the person trumped all other grand gestures. Chase had to put all his cards on the table and just go for it, hoping that this was what Tiff wanted too. That she wanted him.

Although he was terrified of being rejected, he wanted to take a step forward in a healthy direction. In order to do that, he had to not be afraid of opening his heart up. He had to not be afraid to give this girl he was really into the key to all of him, just as much as he wanted the key to all of her. No matter how many times he might’ve gotten burnt in the past, he needed to live. It all started with this girl who was now such a prevalent part of his everyday life that he couldn’t imagine a life without her. This girl that was now in his dreams, whether he liked it or not.

Tiffannie Taccone, someone out of his league and out of this world, was a missing puzzle piece for him and if she let him, he’d do what it takes to be there for her. To support her. To hold her. To love her. A friend. A protector. A boyfriend? Whatever she needed, so long as the guy she saw wasn’t what he could be nor was it who he was. The guy he hoped she saw was the one sitting in front of her… a mess of a man, damaged and in pain.

Chase didn’t say much of a word to Tiffannie when he came in, only giving her glances as he made Baby Peach comfortable and at home. For every second that passed, he could see the building worry inside her, although she did her best to patiently wait. When he was finally ready, the man with explosive tendencies grabbed onto Tiffannie’s hand and led her to his room giving his family a look to not disturb. He needed privacy. He needed time alone with his heart’s desire. He needed to know if he fucked up, really fucked up, all his chances with someone that was turning out to be everything to him.

The sobbing Tiffannie had managed to stop crying and composed herself somewhat just mere seconds before Chase made his arrival to the house with a small pink pet carrier. She had watched curiously as he entered the room, opened the carrier and scooped out the most adorable snow white kitten the blonde had ever laid her eyes on. In regular circumstances, she would be leaping from her seat with a loud squeal and rushing up to hold, pet and snuggle the precious baby, all the while cooing cute, sweet things at it. Instead, Peach opted to remain seated in silence. As anxious as she was with each second that passed by of him exchanging glances without speaking, she didn’t want Chase to think she was rushing him: he would approach her whenever he was ready. Thankfully, she didn’t have to wait long. As soon as he finished preparing the basics for the lovely little kitten to settle in her new home, the young man took her hand in his, guided her to his bedroom and locked the door behind them.

As Chase released her hand, took a seat on his bed, and patted it for her to sit next to him, she was given an opportunity to have a look at him for the first time today. His lip was busted, his right eye was bruised, and his overall face looked like it took a good beating. It did, of course, because before TNT knocked the asshole from earlier unconscious he let the older man get some hits in. Once that guy felt like he had best the southie, that’s when TNT took out his wrench and went to town. It was only fair. That was beside the point though. Chase looked like shit and it didn’t help that he was anxiously cracking his knuckles. When she did take a seat next to him, worried and pouting, his gaze was toward the floor not her.

When her blue eyes were finally able to focus closely on the fresh injuries on Chase’s face, a deep-seated concern made a hole in the pit of her stomach. What had happened to him? When they had talked on the phone the night before and earlier that afternoon everything had seemed okay. There were no signs of the storm that wrecked havoc at Lyon Park, or any hints of something occurring the previous night to set him off. He hadn’t mentioned anything about being hurt to her, either-- probably because he knew she’d get as worried sick as she was now. Instead of just sitting there, Peach wanted to jump to nurse mode: take care of Chase’s injuries, hold him close to her and give him comfort. But the last thing she wanted was to make her friend uncomfortable, so she chose to let him be the one to determine how their interactions would proceed.

A silent moment came and went, as he struggled to grasp onto the right words to say. Inadvertently and subconsciously, he was back to his habit of bouncing his right leg, which did not help the mood of the room. The fact that she stood quiet this long was impressive which only made him wonder if he was overthinking all this or maybe, he was right and she didn’t like him. She just liked the protection he provided. “I want to first start off by saying…” he pulled his attention away from the carpet floor and caught her ocean-strong, radiantly blue eyes with his soil-filled, soulful stare; so rich and brown you could grow roots in them. “I’m fucking sorry, Tiff.” He grabbed hold of her with his gaze and his hands, trying to show he never intended to hurt her. He never wanted to hurt her. While dejected, his eyes were still bright enough to shine in the shadows and only softened when he saw her. “I really didn’t mean for today to go to shit and I’m so fucking sorry.”

The blonde was quick in vehemently shaking her head in disagreement. She wasn’t going to let Chase take all the blame for how their day had turned out when her tardiness was the catalyst for the rest of the unfortunate events that happened. “It was all my fault,” Tiff admitted, her glossy lower lip sticking out in disapproval. “If I hadn’t been late to the picnic, none of this would have happened. I should have double-checked that I set my alarm before going to sleep last night. I shouldn’t have made you worry or disappointed you and your family like that. I’m the one who should be sorry.”

“Tiff, that likely wouldn’t have changed the outcome. I was already nervous as hell. If anything, you would’ve seen something… and I bet after that, you wouldn’t have wanted to stay,” Chase let go of her hand and rubbed the back of his neck, knowing he was doing the exact opposite of what Maya told him to do, going into the bad habit of self loathing.

"But I was nervous too! I was so nervous, I dropped the dessert tray I was bringing to the picnic when I tripped outside Uncle Tazzy's house after missing the step because I was freaking out about being late!" she interjected, still refusing to put all the blame on Chase when she knew he’d never do something like this on purpose. "I really was looking forward to today. I don't know what 'something' I would have seen, but I really doubt it would have changed my mind about anything."

“I’m not… a good person…” he muttered as he looked away from her, interlocking his fingers together and resting his hands on his lap. He didn’t understand why she bothered with him. She deserved someone that wasn’t beaten, battered, and bruised. She needed someone that could make her happy. She needed someone that wasn’t him.

The blonde shook her head and pouted her lips in disagreement. Watching Chase’s ashamed expression and how he seemed to be thoroughly convinced of the negative traits he was utilizing to describe himself made Tiffannie’s heart ache. Whatever had occurred during the hours in which they had been separated must have been serious enough to drastically change the demeanor and outlook on himself they’d worked so hard to lift up in their weeks of friendship. She didn't know what that trigger was, but she hoped he could trust her with the information so she could clarify, reassure or help him process his afflictions.

Unable to hold back her need to comfort him any longer, Peach slowly extended her hand towards the man’s face. After meeting no resistance or dismissal, she gently turned it to face her by his chin and began to caress his cheek with her thumb while still tenderly holding his face. "Yes you are. You’re a wonderful person, Chasey. Why do you keep saying you're not?" she asked him in a soft voice, desperately wanting to know what weight he was carrying on his shoulders so she could take the load off of them.

Leaning into her hand, he watched her as she tried to soothe his restless soul. He didn’t know where to start. There were so many elements of his past that made him who he was today. How could he ease Tiff into knowing him without traumatizing her? Placing his hand on hers, holding her touch against his warm face, he asked, “Can I play something real quick?”

The young woman was quick to nod her approval. "Yes, of course!" she consented with another soft smile. She would agree to anything that could ease Chase’s distraught spirit.

Chase would start with the most important thing to him. His brother. Shifting his body, he opened his nightstand drawer and took out a walkman. He gestured for the blonde to take the headphones and put them on, and watched her do what she was told. As ancient as mixtapes were, JP was able to memorialize recordings in one, which meant when Chase really needed to hear his brother all he had to do was press play. He couldn’t afford pressing Conan’s ashes in vinyl so for a year he, his father, and his brother kept him in a ceramic cookie jar that they turned into an urn and placed him on their dining room table as a centerpiece. The place they spent most of their time at. They could’ve put him in Zippo’s grave but Chase wasn’t ready to let go. That is until Danny Boaz died. That forced his hand because he knew that his brother would’ve wanted to be reunited with his best friend. As such, the families of the southside all chipped in to buy a plot and now Conan and Danny shared the same grave.


When he was listening to the music coming out of the headphones, Chase closed his eyes, bobbed his head, and tried to think of his voice of reason. His brother. TNT wasn’t the best at articulating his emotions. That’s what CT was good at. He was just good at saying what was on his heart and mind, especially when it came to what they were going through and had gone through. Instead of making her listen to the whole thing, he stopped it after Conan’s guitar solo. She could always listen to the rest of the tape later.

Clearing his throat, erratically going from depressed to semi-okay, Chase explained, “That’s my brother, Conan. Also went by CT, short for Crazy Train -- the song you were listening to just now.” Overexplaining. Get to the point. “I don’t think I’m a good person because I believe I failed him. There’s… too much to unravel with me, Tiff.” His eyes were back on her as his leg returned to bouncing. Stupid habit of his. He tried his best to let the sight of the mixtape and the sight of her ground him. “I have triggers I’m still learning. Like when I lose control it’s because something happens that really fucks me up. Something I have no control over and that kills me, does that make sense?” He didn’t know if he was making sense, all he could do was try and hope she saw the truth behind his poorly threaded words.

“I never…” He absentmindedly reached for her hand, resting his and her hand on his leg to get it to relax a little, “Up until I was adopted, I didn’t have stability. My brother and I… our parents. They hurt him. They hurt me. They hurt a lot of,” he closed his eyes, deeply swallowing, “A lot of children.” In this moment, his grip around her hand tightened, his leg bounced more intensely, and he could feel the old memories wash over him. He needed to focus. He needed to tell her more but this was so fucking hard. Taking a deep breath in, he could hear his brother tell him to look at her and say what he meant. Don’t be a coward. Don’t live a life in fear.

Exhaling out, his attention was brought back to her pretty blue eyes as he held onto her hands to show he was trying to connect with her. He was trying. How could someone so soft be interested in a guy like him? That he would never understand. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he admitted, knowing for a fact he couldn’t guarantee her safety, like he couldn’t guarantee his little brother’s, “I don’t want to let you down. I don’t want you to… die because of me, Tiff.” He didn’t want a lot of things but all of it wasn’t anything he could promise for certain. All of it was unknown. All of it was out of his control.

Tiffannie had listened to the recording and the man’s words carefully, trying to process the information as he was offering it. Though in the moment she had felt uncomfortable receiving knowledge about Chase’s tortured past from Mr. Francis, Molotov and even her Uncle Tazzy, she was now grateful that they had provided it. It meant that she had a deeper understanding of what he meant without potentially triggering him or ruining the conversation to ask him for details of things he didn't want to relive.

As much as Peach wanted to see things through Chase’s same lens, she knew that unfortunately all she would ever be able to do was imagine and sympathize. She grew up in a safe, stable home with two loving parents who not only met her every need, but who went above and beyond to provide her with the privileged life she had experienced. And as the only child, she didn’t know what it was like to be a sibling to anyone. The only times she’d been responsible for the care and well-being of another life were with pets she’d had in her childhood, and even then her parents had provided assistance. She didn’t know what it was like to be berated, struck, insulted, beaten, inappropriately touched or neglected by the people who were supposed to take care of you. She didn’t know what it felt like to go hungry, to be exposed to things you shouldn’t as a child, to dread coming home, to feel fear in a place meant to provide you with safety, to purposely put yourself in harm’s way to protect someone else from the brunt of abuse. She wished Chase didn’t know what any of this felt like either, and it killed her that he did. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t erase that part of his life. The one thing she could do, though, was reassure him of the irrefutable truth: none of it was his fault.

After mulling over what she wanted to say, trying to find the best way to put her feelings into words, the young woman finally spoke up. “You haven’t failed anyone, Chasey," Tiffannie began, sliding down from the mattress to the floor in order to kneel in front of the man, making sure to keep their hands together in the process and that her eyes stayed on his broken, handsome face. "What happened to you and little Conan and the rest-- it was neither of your faults. You were just kids. No kid deserves to go through what you all went through, and it makes me feel so icky to think that there are people out there capable of such nasty, horrible things. And the way you are-- that's not your fault either. Your circumstances made you like that. You've been doing your best with the cards you've been dealt. And considering what happened to you, I'd even say it's understandable. But it's what you choose to become after what actually matters."

"I know we've only known each other for so little time, and people call me naive for thinking the way I do. But I know, from the bottom of my heart, that you would never, ever hurt me or let me down," she confessed, gently cupping his face with her hands again. "I know you say you're scared of harming me, and I can understand why. I'm not dumb enough to think that sometimes things happen and we might hurt people by accident or mistake. I also understand feeling like there's too much to unravel by someone else within us, and how scary it could be to put oneself in such a vulnerable position. I've been there too. All of those thoughts and feelings are completely valid. But, Chasey: I trust you. I haven't felt this safe or trusted any guy like this with my thoughts and my feelings ever before in my life-- and I want to make you feel like that too."

Something about her eyes, when he looked into them, it made him feel like he wasn’t a freak. A monster. A nobody. She warmed his soul and in her gorgeous, blue eyes there was the sweetest hint of caramel. There weren't many people he was comfortable with, like truly comfortable with and he didn’t like being alone in a room with someone, just in case he snapped but the way she was looking at him? He could drop his defenses and be himself. He could tell her his insecurities rather than play make believe. He could trust her.

Something told him she would work with him. No matter the obstacle, no matter the issue, and no matter the differences because that’s what she wanted. She wanted something real. She wanted to understand. She wanted… him?

As she watched him on her knees, cupping his face, he leaned forward to rest his forehead on hers and closed his eyes. Her gentle breaths tickled his face and in response, he smiled.

When Chase’s chocolate orbs met with Tiffannie’s own ocean-colored ones, the scenario around them faded into nothingness. The longer their eyes remained locked, the young woman could see her companion lowering his defenses for what was probably one of the first times in his life. Her Chasey was lifting the veil of protection he’d hidden himself behind for so long, and allowing her to see him as he truly was. The way he rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes without worry or hesitation, spoke of how comfortable he was with expressing vulnerability to her. Knowing that she had reached such an intimate level of trust with Chase meant the world to her.

When he opened his eyes, up close and personal, Chase whispered, “You’re the first person…” I’ve ever liked. His voice trailed off, not finishing his thought out loud. He leaned to his right side, into her hand, feeling her affectionate, loving, and tender touch. He loved this feeling.

The blonde nodded in understanding at the man’s words, feeling her heart give a small flutter inside her chest as she returned his smile with one of her own and sweetly caressed the cheek leaning against her hand. Chase didn’t need to finish his sentence for her to know exactly what he would have said next. “Me too…” she admitted, her cheeks heating up with a hint of pink.

“Tiffannie?” he asked.

“Yes?” the young woman replied, visibly curious about what Chase would say next.

“Is it stupid to think you and me could be a thing?” Chase was subtly laying his feelings out, in a roundabout way, and focusing on the only person that mattered in this moment. Her. There was no point in lying to himself or being in denial. She was in his room, alone with him. He was letting her touch him and everything she was saying and doing made him even more enraptured by her. She was too good to be true and out of his league, but he wanted her. He wanted her bad. Clueless and in unknown territory, he released her, leaned back and looked away, embarrassed. “I mean we could keep doing what we’re already doing but maybe, maybe you and me, maybe we could be…” he laid back, dropping on his bed, while covering his tinted pink face with his hoodie covered arm. “...do you want to date me?” he asked. His voice, muffled and hardly audible, but with absolute conviction.

Fuck, no. Not like that. She deserves better.

“Sorry,” Chase sat up, slapping his head from not asking her properly. “I want to be with you,” he bluntly corrected, resting his hands on his lap. His face got more red as he spoke. He was doing his best. That’s all he could do was his best. He was doing his best for her.

There was a moment of silence in which Tiffannie merely stared at Chase, her face displaying equal parts of shock and disbelief. Had she heard him right? Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Chase Warren was asking her to be his girlfriend? He wanted to be with her She needed to make sure her mind wasn’t playing games with her.

“You want to date me?” the wide-eyed blonde heard herself blurting out, staring up at Chase with wonder and-- dare she say it?-- hope.

“Yeah,” he answered, assuring her, even gently pulling her up off her knees, standing up in the process. His heart was racing, hardly able to think straight, as he wondered if he was stepping out of bounds with every touch. Even with his hesitation, he needed to trust his instincts. If she flinched he would profusely apologize and correct his behavior. Running his hand over her pretty blonde hair, he twirled a strand around his finger like a curling iron and complimented, “You’re completely out of my league and so goddamn beautiful.” He released her hair, his finger slipping down and the curl smoothly bouncing off. Chase took a few breaths in and out before grabbing her hands into his. All his moves were cautious, as if he didn’t know what was right and what was wrong in this situation but he wanted to feel her. He wanted her to know that he cared and that he wasn’t going to hurt her.

Intimacy couldn’t be all that bad, right? Finn and Prof, Ransom and Duchess, Demo and Zippo… he had good examples where touch wasn’t hurtful. Touch made them smile and light up. Touch brought them comfort and safety. Touch filled their hearts with warmth and kindness. Touch made them want to come back home. Touch could be a form of love. Touch couldn’t be all that bad. Touch could be what she wanted. Touch could be what she needed. To follow their example in hopes this was exactly what Tiff hoped for, maybe he should follow through. Maybe he should show he cared by holding her close and never letting her go. He wanted that but did she want that too? “I can’t promise you I’ll be the ideal boyfriend but I’ll work on me, I’ll work fucking hard to make you happy. I want to be the man you deserve and I want you beside me while I try to become that. B-but,” he was starting to feel his nerves in his stomach again. “I-if that’s not what you want, I understand,” he finished.

"But that's exactly what I want!" Tiffannie replied breathlessly, squeezing Chase's hands while her sparkling blue orbs gleamed with purpose and determination. She’d hated if he psyched himself out of asking her to be his girlfriend because of his insecurities. It was time to reassure him and make her intentions with him clear. "I'm not perfect either. I've done things I'm not proud of. But I pinky promise you I'll do anything I can to make you happy. I'll give you kisses, and hugs, and cuddles, and snuggles… I'm going to do anything I can to make you feel nice and special and happy and safe because--" Well, here goes nothing. "Because I love you, Chasey. I love you very much. And you deserve to be happy."

“Are you sure?” Chase anxiously asked. He was unsure if this was how things should be. She was saying she cared about him without any hesitation. What made him think she put thought into this? She could be following a whim, a moment, and what they had in actuality was fleeting. He had no idea what he was doing or saying nor did he understand the emotions she was emitting from her petite and busty body. Her heart, with an overflowing amount of sugar and optimism, wasn’t something he could fathom containing. He didn’t want to. He wanted to see her flourish and bloom like the prettiest pink peony. He wanted to watch her smile and yet, underneath all these desires, he felt guilty. Guilty as hell. Peach was opening her vulnerable heart to him and he was wondering if this was true or not. If he was actually hearing her correctly, as if love cost more than he could ever afford. He couldn’t believe that Tiffannie could love a boy like him. Chase had nothing to give and she had everything to offer. Was he selfish for wanting this? For wanting her? Leaning his forehead against hers, he cupped her face, deeply looking into her eyes, “Do you really love me? The good, the bad, the ugly?”

“Yes.” Tiffannie was quick to reply, nodding emphatically and wrapping her arms around him, pulling him as closely as she could. She could see and hear the uncertainty and anxiety in his voice and demeanor and wanted to reassure him without a doubt that she meant every word she said. “I’m sure I do. I do love you. I love you and I want to be with you.”


His brother’s words from one of the last conversations they shared came rushing into his mind. For a moment Chase’s eyes went glossy almost as if he would cry. His forehead leaned against hers again, their noses pressed against one another. They inhaled and shared one breath at the same time. Passionately, he held her tight, closer than he ever allowed anyone. Sheepishly, he put his lips on her forehead. They shaked but the kiss was sweet, kind, and full of innocent attraction. “Then you’re my girl. And…” he cradled her head on his shoulder, his voice continued in a whisper, “And me? My heart? All yours. Carry it with care because… it beats for you, Tiffannie.”

All of her life, Tiffannie had dreamed about finding her Prince Charming: someone who would sweep her off her feet and love her with the same blazing intensity as she would love them. As a young teen, she had searched for this love in the arms of schoolmates Brandon Murphy and Carlos Santiago, but had settled for ‘situationships’ with no official labels after being hit with the realization that the guys in question didn’t want to fully commit or develop anything beyond a superficial emotional connection with her. For the longest time, Peach had believed that this was all she would ever be able to get: entanglements with men who would clam up and cut things off the second feelings and emotions other than lust and desire began to appear. She’d later thrown herself into the world of hookups, partly to numb the pain of her deteriorating relationship with her father and partly still in desperate hope of finding the love that eluded her.

Then, without warning or searching for it, Chase had shown up in her life, and they had built that connection she’d dreamed of for so long. For the first time, here was a guy who didn’t see her as just someone he wanted to be fooling around with. He treated her with kindness and respect. He spent quality time with her, getting to know her as a person and what all of that entailed. He listened to her rambles, guarded her secrets, showed genuine interest when she showed him all of her favorite things, and even felt comfortable enough to share some of his own favorite things with her. They shared so many laughs together and had so much fun that the saddest part of the day was when he would drop her off at her uncle’s house and they’d be separated, and they’d spend every second apart counting down to when they’d be together again.

Tiffannie had known in her gut that Chase Warren was the person she had been waiting for, and she had wondered whether he felt the same way. Today, her question had been answered in the best of ways.

He loved her too… And she was now officially his.

No sooner had the words left Chase’s mouth and reached the girl’s ears that the tears previously pooled in her eyes began to roll down her pink cheeks. Overwhelmed with emotion, the blonde girl began to sob quietly on the man’s shoulder, hugging him as tightly as she could without hurting him. Eventually, she managed to compose herself enough to pull back just enough to face him with a blinding smile.

“Just like mine does for you,” Tiffannie answered sweetly in between sniffles, cupping his face with both of her hands again and gently kissing his nose. Her eyes and face were red and puffy from the earlier tears, but there was no doubt of the happiness that had caused them. “I can’t wait to make you happy. You’ll never, ever be lonely again.”

_{Friday, June 4, 2021}

She said her name was Cadence.

There was something mildly entertaining but somewhat sad watching her run for a Greyhound bus that was always going to leave her behind. The heavy New England downpour was drowning her and she most certainly wasn’t dressed for the weather. She was just passing through or at least that’s what she said. Visiting a friend for the weekend and then heading back to college even though they were still in the throes of summer.

He had no ill intention when he climbed into that cab with Cady offering to split the fare. Yet now as she watched her pretty hazel eyes fill up with tears and rain water, he knew he had to do something. The hunger was striking at Cameron’s gut like a sharp knife. He needed to satiate his appetite lest the fever, the rage take hold. He cracked his neck to alleviate the aching for violence in his bones and leaned his head out of the car.

“Hey!” He called. “Hop back in here. You’ll catch your death out there!”

Hyde diverted the cab back into Edenridge and across the barren Carlisle train tracks that hadn’t had a single locomotive on it since the lonesome death of a small girl nearly twenty years ago. With the taxi barrelling towards Chestnut, the devil looked at his new companion, he had offered her and she had accepted his jacket over her bare shoulders. Her skin was glistening crystalline as the June sun tried to penetrate the black clouds above them. Cameron's cold ocean deep glare fell into hers and the way she looked back, Cadence was inviting him.

He invited her into his workshop in return once they had arrived at his grandfather's pride and joy. “I’m sorry. It’s not much.” Cam began as he shook off some of the heavy rain water and made his way to the small kitchen. He would allow her to wait until her next bus, maybe give her some dry clothes, not that he owned that many clothes anyway. He was fresh out of prison after all. “I'm in the midst of a refurb and it’s taking a lot longer than I expected. You want a coffee or anything?”

Cadence had only hesitated for a moment when she had accepted Cameron’s offer to share a ride. The weather wasn’t letting up any time soon and she wasn’t nearly familiar enough with the public transport system into Edenridge to know how long she would have sat miserable in the rain.

Cadence couldn't help but be drawn to Cameron's rugged good looks. His reddish-blonde hair, cropped short, gave him an effortlessly stylish appearance that she found captivating. His piercing blue eyes seemed to hold a depth that hinted at a complex storm of thoughts she longed to explore and uncover. Cameron's tall stature, standing at an impressive six feet that towered over her frame, and his strong, well-built body exuded confidence and made her feel secure in his presence. And his sharp, chiseled features that perfectly complemented his intense gaze could send any heart racing. Cady found herself increasingly captivated by Cameron's physical presence, a physical attraction for sure that Cadence was more than happy to indulge in.

Arriving at the McMahon Woodshop wasn’t exactly what she had expected when she had agreed to share the taxi with Cameron, but then again, she didn't know what to expect from the mysterious man. She shivered, feeling the chill of her wet clothes clinging to her skin, and decided that accepting his offer was the most sensible option.

“That’s so sweet, thank you.” Cady said, grateful for his kindness. “A coffee would be great.”

Cady used the brief moment of solitary to text Devika a quick explanation to her delay, assuring her that she’d text again when she was nearer. Only after that, when she put her phone away, did start exploring the Woodshop out of curiosity. Old projects and takeout trash were strewn about the room, fitting for a bachelor pad at the very least. She’d seen worse back at the frat houses. “You’re refurbishing everything yourself?” She asked.

As expected, she began to drink in her surroundings. No doubt looking for tell tale signs of red flags that would announce a lack of safety. She wouldn’t find any. He knew better. “Yeah. It was my Grandfather’s place but he died a while back and it sat empty. No one wanted it so I took it back.” As he poured the freshly brewed coffee into some mugs, Cameron thought of the grandfather he just spoke of. More specifically he remembered the way that he looked at him. He did not reminisce fondly on Lawrence McMahon’s icy cold stare. He had known early on and preached as such to Hyde’s mother that something wasn’t right with her son. When compared to his cousins, whom Cameron had not seen in years, there was always something off.

Hyde emerged from the kitchen holding two mugs and he couldn’t help but stare at her. Cadence really was a radiant beauty. The way the rain had forced her dress to cling to her body, it showed all of her curves. With every passing glance she offered him, it worsened his appetite. It made him want more. Cameron would not hide that he was looking at her. There was no point because how could he not look when she looked like that? She had beckoned him with her eyes, the way she pursed her lips to speak to him. Maybe she was hungry too? “There’s a bus timetable in the back room, on the dresser.” He said as he handed the young woman her piping hot coffee. “Some clean clothes, some towels too if you want to get changed and dry yourself off.”

Cady took the mug from Cameron, her fingers brushing against his for a brief moment, sending a jolt of electricity through her. She looked up at him, her hazel eyes sparkling with a playful glint. “Thanks, Cameron. You're really a lifesaver,” she said, taking a careful sip of the hot coffee after gently blowing away some of the piping heat, allowing the warmth to spread through her cold body.

As she stood there, the rain-drenched dress clinging to her curves, she could feel Cameron's gaze on her. She wasn't oblivious to the effect she had on him, and she found herself enjoying the attention. It had been a while since she had felt the thrill of flirtation and the undeniable chemistry between them was hard to resist.

“You know,” Cady began, her voice teasing and light, “it's not every day you meet a handsome stranger who's kind enough to take you in from the rain and offer you coffee.” She took another sip, her eyes never leaving his. “I guess I'm just lucky.” Nothing wrong with some harmless flirting with your hot saviour, right? And she was feeling so awfully cold…

She set the mug down on a nearby table and slowly walked towards the back room, feeling Cameron's eyes following her every step. “I'll just take you up on that offer to freshen up, if you don't mind,” she said, her tone playful yet suggestive. Devi would understand the delay; she’d rolled up late to rehearsals many times looking like a disheveled mess. “I'll only be a moment.”

With a coy smile, Cady disappeared into the back room, leaving Cameron with the lingering warmth of her presence and the anticipation of what might unfold between them.

She was teasing him now. She had cottoned on to the game he had started and she was willing to play too. Cameron liked that. He liked her. He watched her perfectly proportioned hips sway in her walk away. Obviously she was doing it on purpose, a silent but not subtle call for him to stare, to take in the view like a sun kissed horizon across the sea. Cadence didn’t know that she was sailing towards the edge of the map and at the bottom of that fall there be monsters.

Hyde placed his mug down onto the counter next to hers and slowly walked around the bar and into the back private area. He could see as he stalked the short hall that the bedroom door was ajar. As he reached it, Cameron placed his hands upon either side of the frame as he steadied himself. Through the gap, those damned blue eyes watched as Cadence peeled off her dress. She wasn’t scouring or searching through his drawers. If she was planning on wearing something of his, a girl like her, so well put together, she would’ve picked the outfit first before disrobing. She wanted him to see. Her skin glistened from the damp of the rain, which had provided the soundtrack to their game.

Cameron found himself pushing the door open further and stepping into the room, deathly silent. He did not utter a single word as he strode up behind the captivating young woman and gently ran his fingernails down both of her arms. He caught Cady’s gaze in his own inside of the mirror she stood before. Those hazel eyes were begging him, pleading with him to satiate the ravenous hunger inside of her. The same hunger that was eating away at him as well. Cameron breathed deeply by her ear, taking in Cadence’s scent like the prey that she was.

Cady's heart raced as Cameron approached, his presence filling the room. She hadn't anticipated his boldness, but the thrill of the unexpected only added to her excitement. As his fingers trailed down her arms, she shivered, both from the lingering cold and from the intensity of their connection. She held his gaze in the mirror, her hazel eyes meeting his icy blue ones, a silent invitation to continue.

Feeling his breath by her ear, Cady closed her eyes for a moment, soaking in the sensation of being so close to him. When she opened them again, her expression was a mix of vulnerability and desire. Turning to face Cameron, she reached up and gently touched his cheek, her fingers brushing against the skin there.

She only hesitated for a moment before leaning in and initiating a kiss that was tender at first, but quickly deepened as their passion took hold.

The hunger inside her grew stronger, her body responding to his touch; eager, desperate, longing for more. As they kissed, she allowed herself to be consumed by the intensity of the moment, the outside world and her obligations fading away as she surrendered to the primal, fervent connection she shared with Cameron.


^{Tuesday, July 21st, 2021}

The past month had flown by in a whirlwind of passion and intrigue. Cady found herself drawn to Cameron time and time again, their conversations deepening as they discovered their shared love for theater. It was a side of him that she hadn't anticipated, but one that only made her more eager to spend time with him. When her mother had told her she couldn't make it to the theater group’s next big production: The Importance Of Being Ernest by Oscar Wilde; Cady knew exactly who she wanted to invite in her place.

Now, as they stood backstage at Boston College's theater, Cady couldn't contain her excitement. The place was buzzing with energy, the anticipation of opening night’s approaching date electrifying the air. Her heart swelled with pride as she guided Cameron through the labyrinth of props, set pieces, and costumes, eager to share this part of her world with him.

“This is where the magic happens,” she said, her voice flirty and enthusiastic. “Over here, we have the costume department, where they make us look fabulous every night.” She gestured to the racks of intricate garments, each one carefully crafted to bring the characters to life.

Cady led Cameron further into the backstage area, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she showed him the various set pieces and props. She couldn't help but brush against him occasionally, her touch light but intentional, a reminder of their growing intimacy.

As they reached the stage, Cady turned to Cameron with a mischievous smile. “And this,” she said, spreading her arms wide, “is where the magic truly comes to life.” The stage was lit by the soft glow of the work lights, a hint of the spectacle that would soon unfold. Cady stepped closer to Cameron, her voice lowering to a sultry whisper. “I'm so glad you could be here with me tonight, to share in the excitement and the passion that goes into every production.” She looked up at him, her eyes full of warmth and desire. “It means the world to me.”

She couldn't help but wonder what he thought of it all, this world that was so dear to her. Would he be as captivated by the theater as she was? Would he see the beauty in the art, the way it brought people together, the way it made her heart soar?

In Cadence, Cameron had found something different, something he hadn't really anticipated. Jesse James was part of the plan. His plan. He genuinely liked her but at the end of the day she was a means to an end. Aleyda made his blood boil in both the wrong and right ways. He was a kid when they got together and when they combined to make the beautiful blonde baby boy that she so viciously hid away from him. Cady was a different beast. In her, he thought he had found a sheep. Someone who could satiate his fever when it became too great to ignore. Someone who would help keep the demons at bay as he tried to reunite his family. Instead he was finding that she was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, hiding not just in plain sight but under the bright lights of the theater.

It was now his personal mission to bring the wolf out from the woods to devour the town.

He wasn’t surprised when, after dropping JJ at her parents house, he got a call from Cadence to join her in Boston. It was an easy drive considering most of the town was consumed by the latest letter scandal. That was some nonsense if ever he had heard it. Eden had much bigger problems than a few words on the printed page. He sat in the dark as Cady practiced on the stage and only made his presence known at her crescendo. How could Hyde willingly break such a wonderful performance. When she spotted him, she leapt down and ran into his arms like a widow into the arms of a lost love. She was enthralled and addicted, just the way she should be.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Wild horses couldn’t keep me away from this face.” Cameron pushed a strand of blonde hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. “I didn’t see Romi on stage during rehearsal. I thought she was playing lead?”

Cadence couldn't help but blush under Cameron's gaze, her heart fluttering at his touch. Cameron stopping by was the perfect opportunity for her to show off her space, the magic. She knew she had him wrapped around her finger, the way he came at her single call, and she couldn't deny that she was entirely wrapped around him just the same. There was no other surprise like Cameron dropping by during her rehearsals that could get her nearly as excited… well, aside from…

“Oh, Romi,” She said with a mix of concern and excitement, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You won't believe what happened. She had an accident, poor thing. She fell down some stairs the other night. She was drunk and it was dark. Totally unavoidable. Caused her to sprain her ankle too. She's going to be out of commission for at least a couple of weeks.” And with opening night right around the corner… there wasn’t enough time for Romi to return and take back her role.

Cady paused, her eyes dancing with the thrill of the opportunity that had unexpectedly fallen into her lap. She felt terrible, of course, given the circumstances. But this was finally her chance to prove her skills to her professors; Romi always had to take the lead and her money and good looks often got her the roles she wanted. It wasn't fair but... Cadence wasn't particularly saddened by the switch. “Which means,” she continued, her voice barely containing her excitement, “that I get to step into the lead role of Gwendolen Fairfax! Even when Romi returns!”

“Babe, that's amazing!” Cameron cupped her face and felt the vibrations in her skin. Cady was ecstatic and it reverberated off of every fiber of her being. Of course he knew exactly what happened to Romi. As soon as Cadence had told him that the girl was the star of the show and was rubbing it in everyone’s faces, Hyde knew exactly what needed to be done. It was easy feeding Romi the booze, she was a college girl, she was down to party. He didn’t even have to push her down the stairs, all he had to do was turn out the lights and let nature weed out the weak. That said, Cameron did take great pleasure in stamping on her ankle immediately after and blaming a fallen grandfather clock.

“Darling Lady Fairfax.” The devil himself bowed his head with a mock english accent. “I hope you have not been leading a double life, pretending to be wicked and being good all the time. That would be hypocrisy.” Despite all hazards and appearances, Cameron did enjoy the theater. Behind the mask of sanity that he wore and beneath the volcanic rage bubbling under the surface, the art of the stage was something he appreciated more than most. By all accounts, his mother had been a drama student at Eden and had all the potential in the world. Even when he was a child, in the rare days of good that she had between bipolar breakdowns, she would take what little money she had and they would attend whatever show they could afford. It wasn’t perfect but it was something.

“You’re gonna kill it.”

Cady, as Lady Fairfax, fluttered her lashes playfully and replied in a practiced posh English accent, “Oh, my dear Mr. Worthing, I assure you I have only ever been wicked when absolutely necessary.” She grinned cheekily before her expression softened, her eyes brimming with gratitude.

“Thank you, Cameron,” she said sincerely, her voice returning to its natural cadence. “Your support means everything to me. I don't know if I could do it without you cheering me on.” Because, really, who else did she have in her corner? Her friends, of course; but most of them were already part of the play in some form or the other. Her mother was too busy and the last time she’d talked to her father was when she was six, a month after her birthday. No uncles, aunts, grandparents. All alone in Boston. But not anymore. “You know,” she began, her tone turning flirty and coy, “I just so happen to have a pair of tickets to the opening night show. My mother won't be able to make it, unfortunately. But I would be absolutely delighted if you'd be my guest. It would make the night all the more special.”

She batted her eyes again, rosy lips forming a little pout as she leaned into Cameron’s body. “What do you say?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with hope and anticipation as she picked up the posh accent again. “Will you join me for a night of wicked indulgence and scintillating wit, dear Sir?”

“When you put it like that?” Cameron’s hands traced down her beautiful body, sliding down her back until they had reached her hips where he pulled her tightly towards him. “How could I say no?” This was a power play by Cady. She wanted to show him off to the world, mark her territory, claim him as hers in the eyes of the beholders. He couldn’t have that, at least not yet. There were still way too many moving parts in the game to prevent him from making his next move with her. Though he did want to see the show and Cadence did say she had a couple of tickets. Perhaps there was a move to be made here after all?

The Devil’s hands are idle playthings, so he moved one back up and took a hold of Cady’s chin with a firm grip. He held her face in his grasp, staring into her beautiful hazel eyes and tracking every contour of her face. Their month together and done enough to quell his wicked desires for the most part, yet they were still there, niggling in the back of his brain, screaming in the distance to ruin her. Between his finger tips, Hyde could feel Cadence’ heart racing, beating rapidly for him. It was a tell tale sign that he had learned to use to his advantage. She was his. She had given herself willingly to the one person, she most definitely shouldn’t have. “Your little heart is fluttering. You really are excited.”

Cady's heart did indeed race beneath Cameron's touch, her excitement at the prospect of having him in the audience for her big night nearly overwhelming. She wanted him there, wanted him to witness her shine as part of the principal cast.

“Yes,” she admitted, her voice barely more than a whisper as she met his intense gaze. “I am excited, Cameron. Excited about the play, about having you there with me, about everything.” She revealed, truthfully. Cady knew that there was something dangerous about the connection they shared, something that threatened to consume her whole. The sharp glint in his blue eyes said what Cameron's intoxicating lips couldn't. But she couldn't deny that the very thrill made her feel alive, made her feel seen and desired in a way that she had never experienced before.

As she stood there, her heart pounding in her chest, Cady made a silent vow to herself. She would hold on to this feeling, this wild and exhilarating energy that coursed through her veins, and channel it into her performance. She would give the audience a night to remember, and she would show Cameron just how captivating she could be, both on and off the stage. For him, and for her audience.

“All I can hope,” she murmured, her voice soft and full of longing, “is that you're as excited about all of this as I am.”

Obsession. Cameron had learned very quickly that it was a driving force behind much of Cadence’s being. Like him, she came from a broken home and from that came the desire, the unrelenting need to be wanted and loved. She was also a performer to the highest degree, a vocation in which the sole purpose is to be loved for what you are doing. Cady’s obsession was extending to him, to feel his love, to be validated by him and supported unconditionally. She might secretly be a wolf like him and she was making it clear that she was a part of his pack.

Cameron didn’t say a word before he brought his lips crashing into hers once again. He poured a great amount of feeling into their deep embrace. He wanted to fill Cadence up with more of the same addictive energy that she had been welling up inside her since their first meeting. It was easy to plant the seed in her heart and mind that he was hers and he knew that with each passing day together that she was fostering the belief that she was his. Cady was utterly devoted and worshiped wholeheartedly at his Church.

As their lips met in a passionate, searing kiss, Cadence's heart soared with a wild, unbridled hope. She felt as though she was on the precipice of something monumental, a new chapter in her life that promised thrilling adventures and unforgettable experiences. With Cameron by her side, she felt invincible, as though they could conquer the world together. And in that moment, she believed that they truly could.

But beneath the surface of their burgeoning love, there lingered a sinister undercurrent, a dark whisper in the shadows that threatened to undo them both. It was a force that remained hidden, biding its time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike and ensnare them in its deadly embrace. For now, however, Cady chose to focus on the hope that bloomed within her, the fire that burned brightly in her chest. She would hold onto that feeling for as long as she could, even as the darkness crept ever closer, threatening to close in around them.

Family. They are the people that are supposed to keep you out of harm’s way. A safe haven. The place that you want to run back to at any time of the day. Family was like warm cookies and a glass of milk, sitting by a fireplace and reading a story. A story with universal lessons that make you think of what life is supposed to be.

One story Lorelei Mercer had in mind was The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse. A boy who is lonesome goes on a journey finding friends. Their friendship buds as they explore the world around them. What does life actually mean? Lala is reminded of how fragile she, and other humans are, and how the world is such a tough place but could be beautiful. It should be beautiful. She wished it was beautiful.

Lorelei was a meek girl who lived in Eastbrook, in a plain white house, unremarkable where cars pass by without a second glance. Her parents didn’t own anything fancy. The garden was typical for the average middle class family. Some shrubs, her mom’s peonies, and a couple of large pots of begonias. There was no tell-tale sign that this place was filled with heartache. Damaging and everlasting.

Though why would anyone else care? The Mercers took care of the Dollhouse they lived in, their own personal prison, carefully designed to hide years of pain. A family that kept their scars hidden. Generational trauma masked with a smile. Patricia Mercer, for example, had her home office, a speech therapist she claimed to be, which meant she was always around. When she wasn’t with clients, which was most of the time, she was drinking and when she drank too much, she took her misery out on her living child, blaming her daughter for her son’s death, instead of the boy who held the gun.

Her step father, Charles Dowell, was no better. Actually, he was worse. When he was away, Lala was relieved. He had to travel often as a corporate lawyer. Committing adultery no doubt on his business trips. When he was home and his needs weren’t met by his wife, conveniently he had a daughter who he told to always keep the door cracked open. She would do as he says and say nothing about it.

Not like Pierce was around to be the wall between her and her parents. He was in a better place and she envied him for that. Sometimes she wished she went to that special place instead of him but she knew he’d hate hearing that come from her lips. He knew if one of them would escape this hell, this cage, it would be her. She was the talented one. He was not. He could sing and he was charming, but his voice was generic at best. When Lorelei belts out, from her tiny little body, he could swear doves would cry. Her voice was enchanting and full of raw emotion. She was a little songbird, so talented and lovely, and if anyone had a future out of highschool it was her. Not him. Pierce knew once he graduated he would’ve likely skipped town, ditching his dreams to pursue theater. To chase love instead and if Lala wanted to, he would’ve taken her with him but he knew that life wouldn’t suit her. She needed something stable. She needed a home. He needed freedom.

As gruesome as his death was, Charlie Decker answered his prayers. Neither Pierce or Lorelei knew how to speak up against the dark that engulfed them but what they did know was one of them was meant to fly and Pierce always said it would be her, she just had to believe she could. She was a porcelain doll with cracks. Hopeless and broken. Her innocence, stolen. But she promised herself yesterday when she gave her brother her letter and when she sang on the radio with Kylee and Mei, she wasn’t going to be scared anymore. Or well, she wasn’t going to let her fear cripple her on finding a door without a lock that leads to someone’s lap that she could rest her head on.

She was afraid. Terrified. She was always afraid. Lala was tired of it and wanted to go from Pierce’s Duckling to her own Swan. But how does one go against monsters when all their life they’ve touched you in ways that would take years to bury. Was she a princess waiting for her prince to save her? Was she always going to be the girl that waited, like Sleeping Beauty, for someone to rescue her? Or was she going to save herself? Break out of her cage and fly with her tethered wings in search of a home outside of Pierce’s life.

As much as she loved the mayor’s daughter, she loved her so much, Kylee was only someone in her story because of her brother. She had no one. Not really. Girls casually talked to her but they thought she was weird and practically mute. Boys would try to flirt with her but when she didn’t show clear signs of being interested, they got bored and moved to someone easier. Lala was a sad girl but she was tired of being a sad girl. She wanted to know the feeling of what it meant to have love, to have friendship, to have something that wasn’t like a dagger in her chest. She wanted something tangible and real. She wanted home.

Hiding under her bed, hugging a composition book in her arms, Lala squinted her eyes as she listened to her parents argue downstairs. Her heart was racing as she struggled to swallow. Flinching at the sudden sound of shattered glass, she started thinking of the ticking of a metronome, counting with each measure, each pulse. She gently tapped on the notebook, trying to manage the adrenaline to flight, fight or freeze.

This constant state of not feeling safe was like inclement weather. Something she was growing used to and each time it would get worse. Her scars grew deeper, but her mind and her heart became stronger. At least she would like to tell herself that. She remembered when she was younger and her body movements were tighter and her appetite was non-existent. Now though she felt her PTSD fueling her differently.

Her heart skipped a beat when she could hear the doorknob shaking. She had locked the door, which she knew her father wouldn’t like. As expected, Charles’ voice sternly boomed, causing her to squint her eyes tighter. “Lorelei, what did I tell you about locking your door?”

She didn’t answer.

“I know you’re in there, so open up. For Daddy, please,” he maliciously insisted, trying to coat his anger with sweetness. “I’ve had a long day… I’d like to see how you’re doing. I know how badly you’ve missed me.” When she continued to stay silent, he started forcibly pushing himself into the door, until he was able to break the lock and unceremoniously open it. She lost her chance to get away. She should’ve ran. She should’ve left.

Regret washed over her as she was counting the seconds before he inevitably found her. Listening to his footsteps, she froze, biting her cheek to keep quiet. He checked a few areas and then suddenly, abruptly, he was down on the ground. He grabbed her ankles and pulled her to him, wrapping her legs around him. He whispered, “There you are…”

She whimpered and cried, “Daddy please…”

Gasping for air and opening her eyes, Lala processed her environment and noticed she was still under the bed. Her dad hadn’t made it to the door yet. Her parents were still fighting downstairs. Everything that had just transpired was all in her head. Everything her dad just did… was all in her head. It played out how she expected things to turn out. It played out like a nightmare.

With a sudden burst of urgency, Lala crawled out from under the bed, quickly packed a backpack of a couple outfits, some of her songbooks, Pierce’s ring, which was their birth dad’s ring, and threw on a sweater to hide any healing bruises. She didn’t know where she was going but she needed to get out and get out fast.

Tossing her backpack outside to the backyard, she looked out her window. There was nothing to climb down from the second floor to the bottom so she would need to escape… around her parents. Trying her best to not hesitate, Lala went to her door, unlocked it, and peered to see if it was safe. They were still downstairs. Tiptoeing out, she found her way to the back stairs that led to the kitchen and the basement. She hid in the bathroom when she heard her parents getting closer to the stairs, yelling and screaming. One of them was going to come up.

What was she doing?

She needed to get out of here.

Opening the bathroom door, hearing her dad’s footsteps coming up, her mom sobbing as he left her behind, Lala took to the second stairs. While she was trying to be as quiet as possible, she was also trying to get the hell out of there, swiftly. When she got to the kitchen door, she could hear her mom opening a bottle of what was likely some hard liquor, ready to drink her misery away. It was only a matter of time her mother would get violent.

When her mother’s footsteps became quiet, Lala taking note of her walking right on the broken glass, remains from the fight, she peered through the door and waited for the miserable woman to vanish from sight. No longer waiting to escape, Lala rushed to the backdoor, from the kitchen, took a quiet exit, found her bag and booked it. As she ran, she could hear her stepfather yelling.

Just go, don’t stop.

Having no idea of direction, Lorelei ran. And ran. And ran. She didn’t want to be in that house anymore. She hated it and she hated them. She missed Pierce. It wasn’t until she was crossing the railroad tracks, down Maple, running past Gardenview and straight through Carlisle Avenue that she ran into a strikingly beautiful woman, who carried herself with grace and caution. A woman she’s never seen before. A woman that carried the most earnest yet saddest smiles.

“Woah, woah, baby…. what’s got you in a hurry?” The mysterious lady held the shaking girl close, glancing around to see if she was being followed and if she was, by who. Simply by the way this stranger was holding onto her, Lala could feel a maternal presence. Far warmer than her mother ever held her.

“I, uh…” Lala stuttered, realizing that her actions would have consequences and that her father would be pissed if he found out she ran away. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…. I-I’m… I’m sorry.”

The stranger knelt down so that they were on the same level, giving Lala an opportunity to look into her big, blue eyes, “Baby, baby. Breathe,” She gently held onto Lala’s shoulders, soothing her and showing her that she was safe. No one was going to hurt her. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. I’m here to help. My name is Samantha, it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me your name, I—”

“Lorelei. My friend… she calls me Lala,” The porcelain beauty muttered. Her teeth jittering from the shock she just put her body through.

“A pretty name for a pretty girl. Are you okay? Did something happen to you? Here, come with me,” Sam directed the younger girl out from the middle of the street, continuing to stay vigilant, using her peripheral vision to pay attention to their surroundings. When Lala couldn’t answer, Sam didn’t press on. Instead she asked, “Where would you like me to take you? Where’s home?”

The last question made Lala’s face grow even more pale than she already was. Terrified at the idea of going back and seeing what her parents would do to her. To see what her step father would do to her. “I- I don’t want to go home.”

When Lala looked at her in that way, Sam understood immediately and even felt a rush of grief as she thought of her own siblings. “Okay, baby, we won’t go home. What we will do is, I’m going to drop you off somewhere I know is safe. You can stay there as long as you need. At this place, all those that live there, protect each other. But I’ll need you to be a big girl and knock on someone’s door, okay? I assure you, no one there is going to hurt you. I…” Sam tried to gather the words that while she wanted to help her with this, she knew a vulnerable girl staying this close to her was never a good thing. She had only just gotten out of prison and it was only a matter of time her ‘parents’ would want to grab a bite and talk business.

Lala didn’t have the resources to really understand this situation so she obediently nodded and followed Sam’s direction. In time, they found themselves in front of Lost Souls Home. Her parents talked ill about the Southside, made it seem like it was a scary place but just by looking at it. It made Lala sad. The lack of funding made her sad. Her parents weren’t rich by any means but a place that provided shelter for people, wouldn’t you think there would be more money going towards it?

“It’s not like… the Carlisle mansion. Or well, Teddy Grimm’s manor, but I promise you none of that matters when you have good company,” Sam stared ahead at it, remembering the nostalgic feeling, especially when she met the love of her life. Not letting the feelings of old overtake her, focusing on the present for this child in need, Samantha turned to Lala and offered her a burner phone, “If you want to stay hidden, give me your phone. Nowadays smartphones have trackers. This here isn’t anything fancy but if you need to call someone, it can do that and only that. Here,” Sam put her actual cell phone number into the phone before exchanging devices with Lorelei. “If you need anything, anything, I’ll pick up. I always pick up. Right now I’m currently figuring out my own living situation, which is why I can’t just bring you to my house. Let me know who takes you in and what room. I’ll send food there. Does that sound okay with you?”

“... yes… I, question?” Lala puzzlingly inquired, feeling like she was in a dream and that some higher power sent her a guardian angel. Maybe her brother sent her a protector.

“Answer,” Sam quickly responded, surveying Lala’s bag and already thinking of ways to provide for this girl.

Lala grabbed the edge of her sweater sleeves and nervously gulped, “Why are you being so nice to me?”

Sam’s gaze softened. Gently and slowly, she brushed a few strands out of Lala’s face and behind her ear, “Babygirl. Not everyone is out to hurt you. In time, you’ll learn who’s your home and who isn’t. I do this because I understand you. I know how you feel. Caged. No escape. Everyone else has control over you and all you want to do is…”

“Fly?”

“Precisely,” the beautiful guardian angel nodded, pulling Lala back into a warm embrace. So tender and loving. Both ladies starved for healthy intimacy and love. For family. “If protecting children is part of my purpose so they don’t live the same life I did, I’ll give it my all.” They held each other for a moment longer.

There was something about this older woman that Lala could feel this wasn’t one-sided. Miss Samantha needed her just as much as Lala needed a role model. Whether the mystery woman needed a hug or to feel the presence of a young person needing her, Lala couldn’t help but want to embrace her. To make this feeling last forever. She wished her mother was like this. She wished her mother was like Sam. But Lala knew better than to wish. Wishes didn’t come easy for people stuck in their dark place with no way out. Wishes weren’t meant for people like Sam and her.

Pulling away from each other, breaking the needed hug, Sam gestured to the front entrance. “The first step of flying is knowing you are capable. I can’t stay but I will be back, you can count on that.” After a few more exchanged words, Lala watched the strong woman, a living testimony that you can walk through hell and survive, saunter down the street, turning down a road and disappearing.

Lorelei had been on her own since her brother died. Maybe this was her sign. Her sign to fly. Pierce’s Duckling would not live a life in fear anymore. Pierce’s Duckling had wings that needed to be used so why not use it? Pierce’s Ducking would live. Live for him but more importantly, live for herself. Live a life, unchained and ready to fight… whatever that means.

Starting at this lovely place Sam brought her to.

The Home for Lost Souls.

The Bull Shooters.

A roadhouse halfway between middle of nowhere and somewhere, a place for people who don’t really want to be found. That’s what the Bull was.

When Ian Floyd stepped through the old saloon doors, he was instantly struck by the smell of stale beer, cigarette smoke and manure. The background sounds to God’s forgotten shithole were that of old Merle Haggard records, the crack of pool cues against hard targets, the clinking and clanking of beer glasses in celebration of another day surviving the last vestiges of the great American frontier. Oh to be a renegade lost in the throes of time and space.

With his guitar case in hand, the shaggy haired stranger walked silently through the mess of outlaw souls and honky tonk girls. He did not make eye contact, his hazel gaze buried beneath the brim of his white Stetson hat. The floor was sticky from the perfect mixture of spilled Coors Banquet, Jack Daniels and Warhorse Mead. Taking to the small, inches high stage, Ian placed his case down on the ground and a hand onto a nearby speaker. He needed to feel the energy of the place in his fingertips, to feel the room and its hearts beat alongside his. He heard a voice in his ear, one he could only assume was the owner asking him why he had hijacked the stage. Raising his finger to silence the slobbingly man, Ian’s eyes drifted to him only for a moment.

“Old Fashioned.”

Dumbfounded, flabbergasted and absolutely terrified, the owner retreated to the bar to make the strangers drink whilst the pale rider turned to view his audience. She stood out like a beacon in the darkest of night. Amongst a herd of cowpokes at the pool table, she was at the centre, her incredible body on full display in her mesh tank and leather skirt. She was thriving on being the centre of attention, having all the men and some women fawning over her, desperate to kiss her red painted lips. She was there to hide and she was doing so by being the epicentre of an entire atmosphere.

The owner returned with Ian’s drink which he took and downed instantly. “Another, thank you sir.” As the grubby little man departed again, the stranger rolled up his sleeves to reveal his heavily tattooed hands and arms. Reaching out he turned down the background music which caused silence to fall in the Bull. Hundreds of eyes fell upon the stage as Ian plugged in his acoustic guitar and stepped up to the microphone. He began to pluck at the strings and his eyes locked with the woman by the pool table when he opened his mouth to sing.

“The other day I found myself up on the corner
I thought I run into a friend of mine
Ended up that he was just a stranger
I said hello as he passed me by

But then he turned and put a gun to my head
He said, My friend I'm going to rob you blind
I said You must be down on your luck
I'm out of money and I'm all out of time

He pulled the trigger and I fell to my knees
My spirit left and then my body went cold
I'm looking down upon the lights of the city
I feel alive, but I'm dead and gone.”

Souls meet in mysterious ways. There is a bind, a thread, that pulls them together. Some appear as natural threads meant to be intertwined, fed with needle and thread. Others? A powerful addiction. When they meet and find deep comfort and understanding, just by a look, separating the two becomes near impossible. Nothing in this world can keep them apart. Through some dire alchemy, in order to gain, one must sacrifice, in order to understand the good, there needs to be bad. In return, a gift of an irreplaceable fullmetal heart is presented to you.

Esmeralda Montero couldn’t entertain the possibility of finding happiness she could call her own. She’s had her fair share of hardships, like the death of her parents, or the fact that her sister stays at a mental hospital and has since they moved to Edenridge. She understands the value of life. She understands why it should matter. She understands it doesn’t matter what cards you’re given, it’s how you play your hand. Even then, with her deep understanding and awareness, her life was never meant to be her own. Not in this story. Her life was for her family and always would be until the day she died.

Under her uncle’s request, Esme had been assigned to assist the Gonzales side of her family and their business. She’s been doing that for a few months now and it seems that her stay was finally bearing fruit in the form of the Encanto project. Whether in plain sight or in the shadows, Esmeralda, or Belladonna as most in her profession would know her as, was capable of doing extraordinary things. Trained by a husband and wife duo, family friends, one gifted with finesse and fighting, a gunslinger if you may, and the other who fancied herself as an agent or conductor of sorts, getting what she needed and wanted through different means. Non-violent means. Together, they helped make Esme one of the best in her league. All on her own volition.

Though none of that mattered here. Esme was at the Bull with no agenda other than to enjoy herself, away from her usual crowd, and participating in something simple, like a pool game with a few despicable men. One with a wife but looking for an escape, one who felt entitled over every woman he talked to, and one who wants to be seen as a gentleman but has a history with sexual violence. They saw a promiscuous woman wanting to be fucked but little did they know, this Flower was deadly.

Gripping the cue stick, her body aligned with the shot, Esme decided it was time to stop toying with her prey. As they watched her bend over, distracted by the leather skirt wrapping around her thighs and hips so tightly, she observed the diamond system, sharply focused on her angle. With no need to take a few strokes with her arm, she made her strike and let the trick shot take its course. There was only one ball left and it was her’s.

The 8-ball.

When the music started playing and those at Bull Shooter gradually went silent, their eyes falling on a commanding presence, Esme brought her gaze from the table to the stage. She knew she made the shot so she didn’t need to watch it go in. Curiosity overflowed within her as even the thirsty fools next to her turned to a man with a guitar. When she noticed the musician singing and staring straight at her, she raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

He captured her attention and in his eyes and in his song, she felt a profound intimacy. A familiarity like she knew what he was going through and he, her. His soul was sewn into each word and when she listened to his voice, she felt the raw emotion and desire for something simple, just like her. As much as she could’ve gotten lost in his eyes, the belle of the bar couldn’t drop her guard. Gritting her teeth behind a smile, she forced her stick in between her arm and side, shoving her weapon straight into one of the man’s stomachs. A man who was close to touching her backside.

The Gentleman.

Gasping and cursing, he spat, “What the fuck?”

“I think I’ve had enough,” she pleasantly gleamed, turning away from the musician. Tossing her stick on the table, she scanned the men in front of her before her eyes fell on the one holding his stomach, “Oh my bad, that looked like it hurt.”

“No fucking shit,” the guy groaned. Peering up, his rageful eyes examined her form from a new angle, before straightening his body. “How you going to make it up to me, sweetheart?”

“Hm,” she blandly answered, unamused. Keeping up the act, Esme feigned innocence, knowing well enough he had no witnesses, “Are you accusing me of hurting you? Lil’ ol’ me? I could never.” She teased, casually running her hand through her hair, giving a nice glimpse of her chest and the black cross pasties under her mesh shirt. “Did you two see anything?”

The other drunk men shook their heads. They were too busy watching the musician to notice the quick exchange between Esme and the Gentleman. The music was a much needed break from getting destroyed in a game of pool. By a woman no less. One man went out of his way to give his friend a pat in the back, “Drinking a bit, ey? Can’t even walk straight anymore I bet!”

Pushing the man’s arm away from him, the touchy one growled, “That bitch, with her stick…”

“A bigger one than yours,” she purred, quietly egging him on as his friends looked at him like he was crazy. Frustrated that no one believed him, and that the other men were siding with a whore of a stranger, the drunkard reached for her wrist and forcibly grabbed it, dropping face and letting his true colors take surface. Not flinching in fear, letting this moment play out, she whispered, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Ian watched the events and chaos unfold around the exotic beauty almost as if it was playing out on stage or screen and not on the messy bar floor that sat before him. When one watches these events happen in a fictional setting, you cannot step in on them. You cannot intervene or change the outcome of the matter. The stranger absorbed the scenes happening around him, as he always had but something was different this time. Ian could tell even from this distance that the woman had everything under control, she didn’t need him to be a knight in shining armour which he was far from being at the best of times. Yet she called to him, not with her voice or her words but with her eyes. There was something in her eyes.

He did not rush though. Ian waited until he had finished his song before placing his guitar back into its case and descending from the stage. He moved through the stares of the crowd and the hands being placed upon his person for a good show in utter silence, his eyes never leaving the woman and the men accosting her. By the time he had reached them, the barrel of his six shooter was already buried in the spine of the gentleman and his hazel eyes had not moved from the Latina enchantress. “Partner.” Ian drawled. “Now you move one inch, my finger pulls this trigger and I blow your T1 to T4 Thoracic vertebrae straight outta that potty belly you got goin’ on.” He did not raise his voice and he spoke calmly as he continued on. “It won’t kill ya but it’ll hurt like heck and you won’t never be able to walk again. It’s my suggestion that you leave a few dollars on that there pool table for the ladies and then you call it a night. What say you?”

“What is he, your boyfriend or something?” The gentleman hissed behind gritted teeth, already taking money out of his wallet and putting it on the table. His friends were sweating at the sight of the gun. It was easy to tell they weren’t the usual crowd the Bull attracted. Far from it. This bar wasn’t a place for uppity men with trust fund money giving them a leg up in this world. If they wanted to feel a sense of belonging, they should cross the street to the Afterlife. Even then they better be careful who they get handsy with. There’s a dame with poison in her veins ready to protect her girls, without hesitation. One of R2’s best friends. Primrose Lyon.

The good fellas’ were in no mood to brawl because some broad wasn’t down to fuck their friend. The moment the musician intervened, they were quick to dip, leaving the gentleman to fix his own mess. While he was trying his damndest to play it cool, like he wasn’t scared, Esme could see in his eyes and his erratic behaviour that he was trying to get out of the musician’s proximity and fast.

What a coward.

All bark and no bite.

Shrugging to his question, neither denying nor confirming, Esme lost all interest with everyone but the man who seemed to come straight out of a western film. Tilting her head slightly, her eyes caught in his, she examined him closer, particularly his facial features and stance. He was a good few inches taller than her, with deep depth in his stare. He owned his masculinity but not in a way that would make a woman gag in disgust. With his grit, she could see empathy. Behind his modesty, she could see an Alpha. All of this with how he carried himself. A wider smile curled on her face, looking pleased he got the message without her saying a single word to him.

When the gentleman left their side and only they were standing in front of each other, she was quick to interrupt the silence in between them and gently tease, “My hero.” Holding his gaze, she leaned against the pool table. Giving him a sideway glance, highlighting her curves, she slid her hands on the pool table trim. “We don’t get cowboys here often.”

“Maybe not the same type as me…” Ian enjoyed the show she was very obviously putting on. The woman carried herself like a snake, her body writhing and slithering, seductive and sensual, enticing the holiest of men to certain doom. “But there are cowboys everywhere ma’am. Most only ride in when they’re least expected.” He placed the gun he had carried to the table into a holster on his waist before tipping his white Stetson up slightly to reveal his handsome face just a touch more. His skin carried years beyond his own. Beneath his collar, the inkling of a hidden tattoo reached up like a hand wrapped around his neck.

Reaching into the pocket of his old faded levi’s, Ian pulled a single silver coin and leaned forward, placing it on the edge of the pool table, directly by the woman’s fingertips. He allowed his fingers to trace hers for a moment before taking a step back. At no point did his eyes break away from hers, from the moment he walked in until their present conversation. “I suppose, I got next.”

“I could use a challenge,” Esme purred as she slipped his coin in between her fingers and rolled it on her knuckles. “One pocket. First one to get eight balls in their pocket wins.” The rules were simple enough, requiring plenty of skill and accuracy since they both would only have their corner pocket to shoot in. Based on how smoothly he asked for a game, she knew he wasn’t one to underestimate. She was drawn to him but maybe that was because he was the most interesting person at the Bull and not because she felt an immediate connection the moment he laid eyes on her.

Leaving the pool table, grabbing her stick with her, she broke the distance between them, closing the gap. Her body was open and relaxed. She brushed her hair to one side, exposing her neck. Holding his coin in one hand and her stick in the other, she leaned in and asked, “Heads or tails to break?” They hadn’t even given each other their names yet but there was something unspoken in the way he looked at her. Like her, his name was something earned. By the end of tonight, she’d find out. She was banking on it. Exuding sensuality and playfulness, she waited for his answer, subtly rubbing her stick. Patiently waiting.

“I usually take tails.” She was trying to tease him, to lure him in. With her closeness, Ian could see her breathing, her chest moving to the rhythm of her lungs and heartbeat in perfect synchronicity. That was her tell, like the faint sounds of a rattlesnake in the grass, telling you they were coming and that there was nothing one could do to stop it. “But I also always allow the lady to go first.” Ian removed his hat to allow his greying bangs to fall a bit slightly to better frame his bearded face. He rested the hat down on the table and raised two fingers towards the barkeep to signify his want for two more drinks for him and his new dance partner. “Your move.”

A coin toss was rarely a 50-50 proposition. Depending on the design on the coin, the likelihood of it landing on the side that was already upright was more probable. Intentionally, she let heads face up. She didn’t want to win this. Esmeralda wanted to see what he had to bring to the table. This was his moment to woo her and she’d let him. “Well then, if you insist,” she agreed with his statement and continued, “I’ll take tails.” The coin rested on her thumb and in seconds it was up in the air between them. She was agile and fluid with her movements, and there was so much control, even for a simple coin toss. The toss itself was soft, moving slowly in the air and easy to predict. Her brown eyes never left Ian’s dark gaze. Catching it and placing it on her opposing hand, she smiled before showing the results, “Looks like you win.” Taking her hand off, she revealed that it did indeed land on heads. “Set us up, Cowboy.”

This one liked games, that much was obvious and he wasn’t against it. It wasn’t often that Ian was allowed to play games considering his line of work. He spent way too much time on the road, travelling between towns and never laying down a single root. It would be nice to just unwind with this unfathomable beauty. She definitely wasn’t a relaxing presence, in fact everything about her from her almond coloured eyes, to her dangerous curves and body language, it was all designed to build the heart rate, distract and cause chaos. Sometimes a little chaos is just what the doctor ordered.

“Yes ma’am.” Making his way to the other side of the table, Ian began to rack up the coloured balls inside the triangle, followed by the ball at the end for them to strike. Pool was a game of patience, skill and marksmanship. All it could take was one slip of the cue and it would be game over. He didn’t like to lose, which was why he never did. Picking up the stick from the nearby rail, Ian leaned down and narrowed his eyes on the ball. “Two balls. Right corner pocket.” He struck the white ball and it careened forward, clattering into the others and knocking two balls into the pocket as he had predicted.

Esme wondered how long he would keep this up. If he was good, he could potentially keep going, taking successive shots until his inning was over. His inning would end when he either scratched, fouled, or shot an illegal shot, which simply meant when he went in any other holes than his targeted hole. That was the game of One Pocket. Of course, he could score in her targeted hole, then that would be her point, but she doubted he would. Then again, she didn’t know him and he didn’t know her.

Esme couldn’t deny she was curious about him and his intentions. She knew one obviously was because she was hot and he wanted to fuck her. She wasn’t dumb. Who didn’t want to touch her body and fuck her senseless? Still, she wondered if he was just as intrigued about her as she was with him. Beyond the physique and body language. Beyond the attraction. How much did he want to know her? Really know her. Only time could tell. He already shot two in, all he needed was six more than he’d win the game. But that was the thing. She wasn’t here to win nor play if he made this game quick and painless. She was here to watch him carefully.

This was too easy for him, she could tell.

A waiter approached them with two beer glasses, placing them on a nearby table. Leaning her stick on the same table, she grabbed one, took a leisure sip, and declared, “I change my mind,” before daring, “If you can get all the balls in that one pocket, without it coming back to me, I’ll give you… something of mine. If you fail? Well, I guess you’ll just have to kiss me goodbye.” Her lips curled into a smirk, as she took another sip of her drink. She did love games, that was just how she and her sister spent their time. More so her little sister nowadays since her job didn’t really allow a spa day or a vacation or two. So times like these, where she did have a break in between jobs, she made the most of it. Enjoyed it while it lasted.

Ian had made the mistake of showing how easy it was for him to pocket a ball. He had played his first card a bit too early it seemed but as she could, she changed the game. Something of hers? With someone like this nameless woman, that could literally be anything. She was ramping up the intrigue with every passing glance she offered him. Leaning down to take his next shot, Ian did not look at what he was doing. Instead his eyes stayed locked upon the Latina beauty that was trying to pull on his strings. He struck the white ball again and he knew straight away that it would hit and sink the next ball into the hole. “Count me in.”

The game came and went. As expected, Ian won with ease. Since Esme had been playing billiards with men for the past hour or so, she didn’t want to do another game. Instead they went to the bar to talk, continuing to explore each other’s souls with every glance. At this point, the two had indulged in a couple of beers and kept the back and forth going with teasing; the Latina complimenting his obvious skill in shooting his target. The woman’s shoulders eased more, her breathing steady and slow, little creases around her eyes, as she smiled through her stare and her lips. Her painted red, playful and enticing lips.

Esmeralda was no idiot. She knew simply by how the musician held himself and the depth in his eyes that she was spending time with the most dangerous man in the bar. But she also knew he wasn’t there to work, he was there to find something. Peace? Rest? An escape? Simplicity? Whatever it was, she felt like she could relate. At least, she thought she could. Those eyes drew her in like the smell of her mother’s chicken tortilla soup or the sound of her father strumming his guitar.

Her cousin Rico was always one of her favourites and maybe it was because his talent reminded her so much of her father. Her dad, Miguel, never did pursue his dreams in music. He chose family at the end of the day and dedicated his life helping her uncle Esteban in any ‘political’ affairs, using his charisma and empathy to strengthen client relationships. When he passed away, he had written in his will that he wanted Rico to have his guitar and his songbook, knowing well enough in time that boy would make something out of his past. His once upon a dream. His dream changed, of course. His dream was in the form of his two little girls and helping them blossom into the beautiful flowers he knew they were. His dream was his love for his family.

Her mother too held strong values with the family. She was focused on keeping the foundation of the Monteros strong, being the rock for holidays and traditions while whispering advice to her brother. Estefania was intelligent, witty and ruthless when she needed to be. Her uncle would say in passing that if she cared more about the business and not so much about protecting the family, she would’ve surpassed him a long time ago. But family was everything to her. While on the surface she was a woman who owned a restaurant in Little Havana, Miami, giving the Hispanic community comfort food and motherly advice, the reality was, her brother trusted her and her wisdom, and when he was lost he would search for his compass. His sister, the person that would always lead him back home and remind him of the reasons behind his goals.

And now, both her parents were no longer in this world.

Esme didn’t know what this mystery man was to her yet. She didn’t know if their time together was only for a moment or for a season, or perhaps even longer. For now, he was here and she was here with him. The intrigue and anticipation was sitting on the edge of their seats as she took another sip of beer. They hadn’t looked away from each other this entire time and she noted a while ago that all he cared about was her eyes. Her body was a plus, obviously, yet he seemed more interested in unmasking her and looking for any secrets he could find through the flames of fire that were her warm brown eyes. She liked that. “What’s your story?” She unabashedly asked. “What separates you from all the other cowboys?”

Ian’s thumb traced the rim of the top of his bottle as he looked deep into Esme’s big brown eyes. Their entire game, he had felt the glare from all the other patrons of the bar. The seductive woman stood out in a crowd wherever she went thanks to her all encompassing beauty, whereas Ian brought attention to himself because of his own visage, an outlaw renegades who had just taken his first steps out of a Spaghetti Western.

His thoughts lingered on her question. ’What’s your story?’ It was a loaded question if ever there was one. He had heard in the past that unloading onto a perfect stranger could sometimes be the best catharsis a person could ask for. Did he need catharsis? Did he deserve it? Ian Floyd had not led a pretty life. He had not led a good or decent life. To venture down the long and lonesome roads that he chose to travel down, the cowboy had to disassociate the acts that he had committed with his body from his soul. Ian sat opposite the enchantress with only one regret that he still carries around in his heart like a weighted sack full of stones, dare he share that regret?

“I ain’t never tryna be anything other than what I am.” He responded. “I’ve seen and done things that I expect to burn for and I’ve made peace with that. Can you say the same?”

“Oh baby,” Esme took a swig of her beer, before finally breaking eye contact. Sighing to herself, she stared at the alcohol inventory, like she was staring into a deep void. Empty eyes and a lost soul. “I’m my own personal hell, already burning. But yeah,” she replied, resting her chin in her hand and her elbow on the bar top. “I get what you’re saying,” she glanced back at him, giving him a half smile, “I am who I am. No excuses.” She understood where he was coming from. More than he likely realized. Or maybe he knew, simply from the way she looked at him, that she too made peace with the things she’s done. She was young, her demons weren’t going anywhere anytime soon, so it made sense to embrace them instead of acting like they didn’t exist. Embrace the storm, become it.

Whether they were saints or sinners, it didn’t matter. From sins of their past, some rise. Others, on the other hand, fall because of their virtue. Good and evil, it was such a subjective subject. Esme knew she was strong but she was also tired. A storm that most would run from, but she wanted someone to walk into it and not be afraid of all the things that came with committing to her. Her past, her sins, and her family. This was getting awfully dreary and personal. Shifting the tone, she turned her body towards him, her mind compartmentalising the dark so that she could focus on the present. Her beer was left by its lonesome self but that's fine, she had a few and was feeling good. She’d come back to it, or not. “How long have you been playing music?” she asked, her knees touching him ever so slightly, inviting him in.

Ian could feel the skin of her knees gracing him with their presence and any other normal hot blooded man would’ve glanced down to look but his eyes stayed with hers. He could see in the darks of her big brown eyes that there was a pool of sadness. The way she stared off and reflected, for a brief moment he wondered if she shared the same thoughts and feelings he did? That was a question for a later date, if there was one, it was not a question for now. Ian accepted her invitation and his tattooed hand wandered down to her knee, his thumb gently drawing circles on it. “All my life but I never made a single dollar from it. Never tried. Music to me ain’t about money, it’s about catharsis. It’s about words and sounds that strung together can make a cowboy form west Texas, a street hustler from Baltimore and a vision like yourself all feel something deep and meaningful and real.”

“Wish I could say the same,” Esme purred, acknowledging that beyond a pretty face, she was a woman of little hobbies. As playful as she wanted to come across, nights like these were rare. She was a workaholic. Once upon a time she and her family would go hiking, rock climbing, biking, hunting, fishing— they were an outdoor recreational family. Though Espie would make sure to always bring her comics and her sketchpad, her father would bring his guitar, and her mother would crochet dolls. Esme didn’t have an art. She preferred looking around and studying the plants and the animals, taking in the stars and clouds, and watching her family in appreciation. She admired people like Ian, like her family. Talented people that could connect souls through their passion.

Esmeralda wasn’t someone who could connect easily with others. She didn’t know why but she was always like this. It wasn’t like she was intentionally trying to have a guard up. It’s just when she was given the opportunity to make a friend, searching for emotional transparency and connection, she found disinterest instead. People were not worth her time. Her uncle grieves this part of her, blaming himself for not shielding her from the reality of the world at such a young age. He’s convinced himself that there were things his sister hadn’t told him and that his two nieces were exposed to trauma that neither of his own kids would understand. At such a young age too. Esme didn’t think it was that deep. She simply didn’t find most people interesting and was content with her own company.

Was she lonely? She hadn’t put much thought into it but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying herself right now. There was something between her and this mysterious musician that she had never felt before and without hesitation, she knew she would follow this unusual feeling and see how long it’ll last. How long it would burn. “My dad used to play music. Never pursued it but as long as he had his family and his guitar, he was happy,” she responded, her deep, brown eyes softening at the thought of her late parents. “The most I’ve ever felt was when I’ve listened to his songs, and now your’s. At some point I just…” she sighed, her chest moving with such sensuality. Everything she did, whether she liked it or not, came across extremely seductive. Closing her eyes briefly to feel his caress on her knee, before gradually opening them to fix her gaze with his, she let the silence linger. His stare was intense and full of depth. So much could be seen simply by the way he looked at her. It made her want him. It made her want to know how he felt.

Silently, Esme drew him in, begging him to take her, as she finished her thought in an almost whisper, “… stopped feeling.” Subtly, her expression and body language hinted at her need for intimacy. Heat emitted off her and her smile was enticing. She could feel the intrigue and yearning between them. This unspoken synergy. She wanted him and she wasn’t hiding it. It was his call, he could shoot his shot. The latina was giving him all the signs in the world. If he wanted to take her, right now, he could.

Ian had learned very early in his life how to remove himself from the ways of feeling. He had made his living for nearly twenty years, ending the lives of others. The only way he could do such a thing without remorse was to remove his soul from the equation. It was his belief that the body was merely a tool to be used by the spirit to carry it across the world. When Ian took on a contract, it was him killing, it was his body, that was the weapon. That was why with every new vessel whose journey he ended, he marked his own body with ink to remind himself of the soul that he helped reach its final destination.

As he looked into Esme’s big brown eyes, despite the allure of her vessel, he was drawn in by the soul that inhabited it. A dangerous, seductive and well travelled soul that felt kindred to his own. Ian stood up to his full height, placing his hands on her thighs as he stood between her legs. He did not say a word as he took a hold of Esme’s hand and led her to her feet and out of the door of the dirty bar.

For a moment, the bar went silent. Two enigmas with such commanding presence walking out, hand in hand. There is nothing more dangerous, more powerful, and more compelling than a woman and a man who know themselves, neither caring if they live or die, yet both coming to the same idea. One idea. And that idea? There was him, there was her, and then there was both of them. Together and ready, to explore this sudden turn in fate.

There is something we live by, we die by. Of all the pure things, of all that is true, for both sinners and saints. It could be used as a weapon and it can be used to destroy but that’s not all it could be used for. Neither strangers shared their names. Even so, their souls did all the talking. They weren’t people who played it safe and this could be either the start of something wonderful or the start of something torturous. A sweet dream or beautiful nightmare.

They found themselves in a nearby alleyway. He pushed her up against a wall…

Whatever this was, it certainly was the start of something new.

The Bradys and the Belmontes and other neighboring Scott Street families found themselves in and out of the large estate that unabashedly sported Italian pride. The flag of Italy hung from a staff that angled out from the front wall, the kitchen, the biggest room of the house, was crowded by earthy and sunny art pieces, plates printed with fruits and veggies, and Tuscan mechanical workshops and artisan hone metals to elevate the appliances. Pottery and flowers could be found in every corner, table, and surface inside and out the house. Antique furniture was the centerpiece of each room (minus the kids’ bedrooms - all made in a tailored design, featuring their personalities), and paintings. Paintings hung everywhere. Many, many paintings. Some shipped from Italy, others painted by Vivia herself. She was gifted, after all, and had a delightful teacher in Eleanor Costigan.

Tiziano was cooking spiedini over the grill flame, Sylvia was in the kitchen making sure traffic kept moving as people retrieved the bounty of food that waited on the counters, the island, and the dining room table, most of the kids were in the pool, and the older Belmonte girls were tasked to bring their best to the party, socializing and entertaining their father’s guests. Like every year, Taz’s summer barbeque was turning out to be a success. People came and went as they pleased and most of those who attended enjoyed the distraction, enjoyed the peace and enjoyed the summer heat. Taz was happy to see his family and his friends all rejoicing under one roof, like one big happy family. Taz was happy and glad to not hear any stories of ghosts and horror. A moment to forget and just be. A perfect way to spend a summer day.

The one person who was finding it hard to immerse himself in the environment was Danilo Belmonte. He sat on a stool barely touching his burger inside the living room, beside the couch that was once taken by a couple of Cat’s friends. Brainlessly, he went through the channels on the television trying to decide what summer sport he should watch. He was finding today unbearable and he didn’t know why. All he knew was ever since he visited the O’Briens last, he felt uncomfortable and weird. Foul and disgusting. He felt many things and nothing at all. He felt numb, or tried to at least.

Staying out of his father’s view was priority, then followed by keeping himself busy with senseless things and nonsense. Danny knew his dad would want him to hang with the men, acting like he was an adult while his father smoked a cigar. Deeply sighing, Danny settled with football (soccer), put the remote back on the coffee table and leaned back. He sat there quiet, just not in the mood to talk to anyone. That is until his mother slipped inside his mind palace, inviting herself with worry and concern. She was quick to know when he was lying and even faster at understanding her son’s body language. After a short, sweet exchange, Danny was given permission to rest and hide out in his bedroom. Until dessert, Mama B would shield him from the extreme tendencies.

Relieved that he got a free pass, Danny rose, leaving the game on the screen, and left the crowd to go to the quiet of his bedroom. To lay down, that would be a great adventure. Avoiding any passersby, he tactically went up the stairs to go to his oasis. His bedroom. He needed to play some music and think of something that made him feel good. That made him smile. He needed a distraction.

All the while, several minutes before Danny would even go upstairs, a certain curious boy had already made his way up to Danny Belmonte’s room. What had first initially began as an accident that was followed by a moment of weakness, curiosity the cat took control of Marco Brady’s every action. In the years he had been massively crushing on Danny, but only coming off of months since they had a very confusing and enthralling moment together, Marco hadn’t been able to get Danny out of his head (more so than usual).

He went upstairs just to use the bathroom. When he tried the one downstairs, it was occupied, but in the middle of his quest to relieve himself, Marco was drawn to a specific bedroom. It was obviously Danny’s because it smelled like him. There was a certain mixture of Danny’s cologne that was earthy and quite potent (something Marco would never choose for himself), but it was familiar. In the process of carefully walking around Danny’s room, took in the sights because he went on a journey. From the jersey’s hanging over his bed, his desk set up that made him wish he had one like that, the shelf for just his sneakers, and just everything his eyes could see.

Marco didn’t know what he expected, but being in Danny’s room made him feel like he was closer to the boy he was…well he wouldn’t say addicted, but this was as close to being addicted as one could get. He was bathing in the scent, overwhelmed by every sensation that hit him that he had to take a pause on his bed. Marco laid back, wondering if there would ever come a day that he might be able to lay here with Danny. Something he longed to happen for so long, yet as he laid there, deep in thought and in more comfort than he could have ever predicted, he frowned when he realized that the thoughts going through his head were impossible. Only possible in dreams.

And then he heard some noise coming close to the door. He didn’t close the bedroom door because that would have made it seem like he was sneaking around. He just wandered into Danny’s room. In a panic, Marco slid under the bed. He didn’t know how much time he’d have - only that Marco had to get out of sight and had to do it fast. Why didn’t I just go into the closet? Because I’m an idiot, that’s why. He had to pray to GOD he was as quiet as he thought he was, but it was impossible when he heard exactly who it was that came into Danny’s room.

It was Danny. He heard him say something and Marco was cursing himself into oblivion.

Closing the door behind him, Danny locked it, seeking solitude, being away from the masses, especially his father. Once he reached his dresser he connected his phone to his bluetooth speakers. His goal: to drown out the noise outside. To drown out the noise in his mind. Going through his music, he chose his rap playlist and the first song to come on was Stress by NF. This song wasn’t the best at distracting him but at least it made the noise outside distant. Putting his hands behind his head, intertwining his fingers, he listened to the lyrics and breathed.

Just breathe.

Shutting his eyes, he stood there combating his thoughts. He was sure that he ruined his friendship with Jill. All because of a stupid game. A game that made him feel… made him feel what? He had so much to live up to. He was the only son of Tiziano Belmonte and he was amazing at basketball. So much so that he could go to the big leagues if he kept his grades up and didn’t stray from the path his father paved for him. It wasn’t like he minded. He had his whole life planned for him. It would guarantee success and stability. If he fell, he was sure his mother would provide the security he needed to get back up but it was unlikely he would fail. Failure wasn’t an option. He couldn’t fail. He couldn’t fall. If he did, how would his father react?

Opening his eyes, he grabbed his small basketball off his dresser and squeezed it in his hand. Swiftly turning, he tossed it in the air straight to his closet and to the mini hoop mounted on it. Nothing but net. When he scored and the ball fell onto the floor, bouncing a bit and then rolling under the bed, Danny sighed, furrowing his eyebrows from all the tension and stress.

Grace O’Brien.

She wasn’t part of the plan. He would never do that to Jill. He promised. That was her older sister. But then he did. Why did he? Because of a stupid game with his best friend? Rye and him? They were just being idiots and making the most of their freetime. A game to see who could get the most scores. A bet that would undoubtedly prove who was the smooth talker of the two.

Getting girls was easy. Who wouldn’t want to be with Francis’ legacy? The bound-to-be NBA star of Edenridge High. Danny Belmonte. Getting girls was easy… but then Rye started getting someone every week, his playing field more wide. Boys, girls, and others. Northies, southies, and in between. Danny fell behind. Danny was losing. He couldn’t afford to lose. He couldn’t afford failing as a man. How embarrassing would it be if his teammates found out that bubbly, lovable Rye knew how to flirt better than their captain?

Danny could see the charm. Rye was small, cute, and made you feel needed. He hit a different kink. He made you feel wanted. He made you feel seen. He was high maintenance and at times, too much to deal with, but he definitely was someone Danny would consider: a catch. Still, that didn’t justify the jocek’s actions with Grace. Because he gave in, because he ended up saying yes, after dodging her advances time and time again, after telling her they shouldn’t, he couldn’t and that he didn’t think it was right, after saying no over and over again throughout the years… he finally said yes because could Rye say he got with an upperclassman?

Danny could but at the price of his friendship with Jill.

Was it all because a dumb game? Was this horrible mistake all because he wanted to one up Rye and show he was better than him? Giving another deep sigh, Danny slipped off his sneakers, shuffled to his bed, and rolled onto it, until he was resting on his back. Danny thought he was smarter than that. Smarter than a game or well, letting a game influence his behavior. He was a basketball player who needed to know when to not let the game and crowd get to his head. But maybe he was wrong. Maybe he wasn't as good as he thought. Maybe he was…

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” Suddenly there came a series of groans - loud ones. Noticeable from under the bed. When Danny had laid back, the frame held firm as it should be and as Marco expected it to. For a family that lived as well as the Belmontes did, Marco expected Danny’s bed to be top of the line, but even that frame could only support so much weight without giving way to it for a bit and Danny was a bulky person. So when Marco heard it start to creek, no doubt because the object of his affection for years had put his entire weight on the mattress, it in turn pushed said weight on Marco’s back. He wasn’t so far from the edge, so he rolled out on the other side.

The sound of someone hidden in his room caused Danny to be on high alert. Rolling off his bed and standing up, his guard rushed back up as he watched this random person crawl on the floor, from under his bed, like some horror film. He didn’t have any weapons in his immediate reach so he was prepared to tackle and fight if need be. All he wanted to do was rest but it looks like God had other plans for him. Who the hell would go under someone’s bed?!

“Hello…” From the other side, said Marco, a painful expression on his face as he slowly pulled himself off the floor, gripping the top of Danny’s bed for support. He met the surprised gaze of Danny and he was completely justified to it. “Ah, is that NF I hear? Good artist. JP told me to check him out. I thought maybe I would.” He still felt a sharpness in his lower back but Marco just kept trying to talk. “I know what this looks like. I promise I didn’t intend to lay under your bed…_{though I guess in hindsight I should have hid in the closet. Least then my back wouldn’t be killing me right now.}” Marco said in a lower voice. He was trying his best to explain his being in Danny’s room, but everything that came from his mouth felt like he was digging himself six feet deep inside cement and dirt.

When the reveal of the culprit came to light, Danny was stunned. He didn’t expect Marco to be in his room like this. Or in his room alone. Or in his room at all. Looking at the other boy in a dumb stupor, a sudden rush of thoughts came crashing into Danny’s mind. No, it wasn’t the game that stressed him out. It wasn’t the game that pushed him to cave and give into Grace’s pressure. It wasn’t the game that overwhelmed him to the point that he wanted to explode. It was this boy right here that put him in between a rock and a hard place. Or more like… this growing intense feeling he felt whenever they were around each other.

He couldn’t get Marco’s scent out of his mind or smile or even the cute facial expressions he makes when their shoulders touch. The game was just a distraction when the reality of his situation was, he couldn’t play it well because for the last two years all he wanted was to… “... Marco,” Danny breathed, realizing he locked the door, there was music playing, and no one else was around to see them. “... what are you doing here?”

It took Marco a few moments, short and long alike, to get himself upright and to his feet. It was a mixture of the slight discomfort of Danny’s bedframe against his back and him having to crawl out from under his bed. Neither of those compared to being in his room with Danny. Nothing compared to being so close to him in a setting that he had dreamed of for so many nights, for so many months of the two years he’s known of Danny Belmonte’s existence. Nothing came even close to being so close to those dreams being realized but having to explain why he was even in his room. The easy answer would be to lie his ass off about it, but Marco was a terrible liar. It’s why his siblings never did anything that didn’t meet their parent’s standards around them because if they got caught, be it their father or mother, they’d find out through him.

“Good question, good question…” Marco was stammering through his words, his instant tell of running his hand behind his head as scratched the top of his scalp with his perfectly manicured fingers. “So..I was looking for the bathroom. Think it was occupied downstairs. I came up the stairs to find one, but…you know, this house is very big. Like it’s almost like the house from Emil’s guilty pleasure show, Days of Our Lives, there’s a couple of mafia families in there with enormous homes..” Marco rambled on, realizing he outed Emiliano’s most hidden secret that he promised he’d never breathe to a soul about. Whoops. “Don’t tell Emil I said that. He promised it would be our secret. I like to watch it occasionally too..”

Looking at Danny, he got the sense he needed to get to the point. “Right. Me being here. I got lost and found my way into your room and..well, guess I got a little curious…” About wanting to know you more. Marco was lured in by convenience. It didn’t matter, not really, if he needed an excuse because the truth was, Marco wanted to be here, but he wasn’t sure if telling Danny that was the smart thing or even if he’d react in the way that might give Marco a clue. A sign that maybe that part of him months ago felt…something could come say hello to them again and make it more obvious. Or at least convince the panicked version of Marco to take a chance. “And now I’m here.”

“Curious…” Danny repeated after Marco. He needed to play it cool and think of anything but the one thing he was thinking about. His probing gaze gave the other boy a once over, pausing at the lips, before looking away. “There’s nothing interesting to see here, as you can tell. I’m the jock stereotype.” He wanted to turn away and distract himself with the drywall paint or one of his sneakers, but instead he casually stepped closer, going around the bed to gesture at his desk which didn’t have his laptop on it. Instead it was covered with his woodshop projects this past year. “I guess these are kind of neat? Might show I’m more than just a dumb jock.”

Glancing towards his desk, Marco saw them. During his detailed journey around Danny’s room earlier, how could he not have noticed them? Well, that’s not true. He did notice them. He noticed them but didn’t pay much attention to them because he didn’t know what he knew now: Danny made them. Danny made them with his own hands. In a slow, yet fleeting moment, he looked at his crush of three years. “These are by far the second coolest thing in the room!” Marco excitedly exclaimed. It was odd because he was losing a squash match to his anxiety and nerves just a few minutes ago, but now Marco felt relaxed. Was it because of the wooden figurines on his desk? Or maybe it was something more? Maybe Danny not immediately flipping out on him being in his room was the start of it.

He stepped closer to the desk, just examining it closer, noticing one in particular that caught his immediate interest. He picked the one that looked like Wall-E up. “This is so cool! It looks just like Wall-E. I didn’t know you knew about it.” Like a kid in a candy store, Marco then stumbled on the miniature Skee-Ball masterpiece. “And you even did Skee-Ball!” There was a sense of wonderment in Marco’s voice, almost forgetting where he was and getting lost at the amount of skill it must have taken to craft these. “Just incredible! You’re really talented, Danny. You know that, right?”

As Marco gushed about his projects, Danny carefully observed him, distracted by the boy’s lips. He lingered on the words that the woodshop creations were the second coolest thing in the room. That made him wonder… What else in his room did Marco like? He hadn’t even realized with every passing word, he had inched closer to the other boy. Half of his body behind Marco, while the other half leaned over to demonstrate each projects’ functions.

The miniature skee-ball functioned just like the real deal, perfect for a bartop to keep drunks occupied. Wall-E’s arms, neck, and treads moved so it wasn’t a complete statue. There was more to it than something that was nice to look at. Unfortunately it had to be done manually but if he had more time with it last semester, he would’ve tried to reach out to someone to help him make his project work with a remote control. His current project, more for himself than school, was unfinished and most of the pieces were in the shed, where his father set his son up with an at-home workshop. It seemed that Danny was in the process of carving a whole chess set. Instead of answering Marco’s question, the captain of the Celtics asked, “You said these were the second coolest things in my room… what’s the first?”

“Is that what I said?” For a moment, Marco could feel himself panicking for a few reasons. Knowing that he knew what he said was one, but when Danny fixated on it, that only added to the sudden shift in his demeanor. As he felt his throat go just a bit drier than before, he had to think about how he was going to phrase this. Marco knew if he wasn’t careful, he would expose himself to the one person he wanted almost as badly as he wanted to be a professional football/soccer player. That’s how badly he yearned for Danny Belmonte’s attention. Sure, right now he had it but he wanted it in a whole deeper way.

“Well, what I meant..” He was struggling to find the right way to say it. So he would just do it. Looking at Danny, though he kept his hands mostly to himself, he let his gaze linger on the boy. “You are. I mean, you are so talented! From being the captain of our basketball team to the amazing masterpieces on your desk.” Marco’s face was getting hotter and hotter, but not as hot as he found Danny Belmonte… “I wish I had your skills for making these with my hands. Only thing I can do that’s even close to that is play Football…sorry, I mean soccer.” He let out a nervous laugh. He wasn’t intentionally trying to look away from Danny or avoid his gaze, but right now, if he kept looking at Danny, he knew something would happen. Something he would do and he wasn’t sure what the outcome of that might be.

Marco was rambling. He did that alot. He also admired and complimented him often. Danny wasn’t naive. He knew how Marco felt, more than he’d ever admit. This wouldn’t be the first time his friend, this geek in front of him, word-vomited sweet nothings to him. This wouldn’t be the first time Marco Brady got inside his head. It wasn’t until Marco looked away that Danny felt this sudden annoyance and ache overtake him, flooding his senses.

Don’t look away from me.

His heart beat faster and faster as he tried to contain the beast. Danny rooted his feet to the floor, trying not to lose himself in the moment. His yearning overwhelmed him and yet, he didn’t want Marco to withdraw and run away. Danny needed him. He didn’t know how he got this far but he needed him. He needed a boy and he needed him right now.

Coming from behind, Danny wrapped his arms around his friend, gently turning Marco’s head so he could catch his gaze. He wanted to kiss Marco’s ear, neck, and clavicle. He wanted to kiss Marco’s forehead, nose, and lips. He wanted to kiss… everything. Tightening his hold, he gave into his deepest desire and planted a kiss eagerly onto Marco’s delicate lips. Softly at first to get a read of the other boy’s reaction. His hunger was far too great at this point and he was finding himself struggling to pull back. The kiss only building in intensity. Danny wanted him. He wanted him bad.

When Danny had wrapped his muscular arms around him and kissed him, Marco was stunned. Shocked. Frozen in place. He felt almost paralyzed by the suddenness his longtime crush’s action. He had always wanted a sign. Something that could tell him he wasn’t alone in this. A sign that would make it clear to Marco that his crush wasn’t just a one-sided thing and it wasn’t what he feared worse and unrequited. In the back of his mind, he still thought that maybe he was reading too much into this, but he wasn’t that naive. He was Marlena Castillo and Colin Brady’s son, for god sake. Grandson of Emilio Castillo.

Marco wasn’t stupid. Marco wasn’t a fool.

Or maybe he was, but he was a fool who crushed on the man embracing him from behind for three years. THREE YEARS! Any sane person or someone who wasn’t such a fool like Marco could be sometimes would have moved on, but he always held out hope. Any glimmer of hope, a thread that led to the neon sign that was this moment.

God, his heart was on fire. Beating uncontrollably both because of what was happening but also because of the sudden realization of what Marco felt in his gut to be true. Since that day when Danny took him to that spot, told him about the Clover Curse, there was something between them that changed. He thought he was going crazy. Marco could have sworn he was going crazy, but right now, he knew he wasn’t. Danny was kissing him and by all heavenly fathers: Jesus Christ and all others that exist in whatever religion they are worshiped in, it was magnificent. He couldn’t do much of anything because he was still in a euphoric state of shock, the paralysis of it all making him as still as a statue. Part of him didn’t want this moment to end.

Don’t let it end here. Please!

Pressing himself so Marco could feel him, Danny let his appetite drive his actions. He intensely stared into Marco’s pretty, light brown eyes, hoping that was enough for him to understand his feelings. When Marco moaned into his lips that sent him over, Danny made a trail of kisses to all the places he wanted to make his, lingering on the neck and sucking at it. It wasn’t until he was getting ready to loosen his pants and pull down Marco’s when he heard his dad, over the music from his room, announce the antipasto and steak kabobs were done, and gloat about his wife’s meatballs. That’s when Danny suddenly jerked away.

And just like that, Marco’s dream was cut short, his face was almost as full of panic as he noticed Danny’s was. Was it because of what he heard too? Mr. Belmonte announced the food was done?

Retreating, his want clearly visible, Danny ran both his hands through his hair and rested them behind his head, interlocking his finger. He made sure to give enough distance between the two so he wouldn’t do anything stupid again. “Sorry… I don’t know what came over me. I shouldn’t have did that.” He could only imagine how his father would react if he found out his son kissed a boy, and he liked it. “Just...” He could feel and hear his heartbeat. Anxious from what he just did. Danny Belmonte was not gay. He dated and slept with girls all the time. This was just a phase and didn’t mean anything. Marco didn’t mean anything. “…forget this ever happened.” He was uncomfortable and hard but he knew, for both of their sakes, this was for the best. Marco didn’t know Tiziano Belmonte… not like Danny did. He didn’t know why this was possibly the worst thing Danny could do as the only son of Taz. Danny was not okay and he couldn’t take back what he did. Yet, as he looked at Marco, he knew he still wanted him. God he wanted him so bad.

It took Marco a few moments longer than it usually would to register exactly what had just happened. To understand why Danny pulled away when he did. Before either of them heard Mr. Belmonte, it was heaven. A heaven that was pushing Marco to the max and that held his tongue in a silencing vice grip, but it was as close to everything he had dreamed of and more. But when he realized what was really happening, Marco didn’t know this feeling. To be ashamed of oneself even in the face of your parents, or maybe especially in the face of your parents. But maybe that just went to show how much Marco knew and how lucky he was to not only have a family who accepted him for who he was, but loved him even more because he wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t too naive to think that others had it just as fortunate but seeing how Danny acted, it dawned on him that this was the worst case scenario for him.

When Danny started to apologize, part of Marco was angry. Of course, not at Danny. Never at Danny. He was angry that Danny’s father could make him feel like this. “Danny…” He wanted to reach for his hand, but that would be the wrong thing to do. He had so many thoughts running through his mind right now, but all of them were wanting to just hug Danny. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Or anything that might risk getting caught. We can just go back out there right now and rejoin everyone, but…” He mentally said a few hail mary’s and reached for Danny’s hand as gently as he could. “I’m not going anywhere. I…care about you. A lot actually. My reason for even coming to your room was because of that. I thought if I could find a sign, to know you better, maybe I could get the courage and confess even half of what I’ve been carrying around for the past three years.” As he went on a ramble again, Marco did something he normally didn’t: he kept his gaze on Danny, hoping in some way he could see how Marco meant every word. “I just needed you to know that.”

Oh hell.

Listening to Marco, as he never turned away from him, never looked away, only made Danny want him more. Dirty thoughts aside, the fact that Marco wanted him for three years around the same time Danny started realizing that he might not be as straight as he was raised to be put the jock between a rock and a hard place. Quite literally a hard place. “Look at me, Marco,” Danny growled, as he buried the thought of his father’s voice in the back of his mind, to be with this boy that drove him crazy. He inched closer and reached for his hand, placing it on his chest. His heart beat like crazy. “Does it look like I don’t want you? Just feel me.” He gently guided his crush’s hand downward to do exactly what he commanded. To feel him.

“I want you. I want you bad. And not just right now,” Danny released Marco’s hand to hold his face, to caress his bottom lip with his thumb. Briefly, the Captain cherished the sight of the boy he was growing so fond of, gliding the back of his fingers on Marco’s right cheek. He held him dearly, as someone he wanted to be with. Beyond teenage sex, beyond friends. “I’ll be real, I’m terrified. My dad isn’t a bad dad, he just was raised in religion. But I’m his only son…” Danny breathed, as he leaned forward, resting his forehead against his almost lover. “That doesn’t change that all I do is think about you. I can’t say when it’s started but you’re all that’s on my mind. All the time. I can’t even kiss a girl without thinking about how badly I want you.”

Everything in Marco went from panicpanicpanic to another form of it, but in the best, unexpected, welcomed, absolutely-wonderful ways. When Danny grabbed his hand and guided him down, Marco felt everything he had been experiencing when it came to the boy in front of him. Every night of dreaming of this moment, fantasizing of it, doing whatever he could to relieve himself of the thoughts that filled his mind any time he thought about Danny Belmonte came flooding back with a vengeance.

Any time that Marco tried to speak, tried to form a thought - it was a moot point. A moot point because anything he could think or say was blocked out by this moment and by how badly Danny wanted him. Just as much, if not more, than Marco wanted him.

As he brought a hand up to Danny’s cheek, he just spoke, “Then nobody has to know. We don’t have to let anyone know but us.” He knew what he was saying. Marco understood the implications but he didn’t care about any of that right now. All he wanted was to be with Danny. It became obvious to him that any hope of that being as a public anything went out the window when Danny went into a panic when he heard his father and even the slightest risk of getting caught was possible. He moved closer, close to the point where his chest and his body was pushing against Danny’s gently. “I just want you. I need you, Danny. It’s…all I’ve ever wanted.”

That’s all Danny needed to hear, for as long as time would allow it. For as long as he could make this last. Danilo Belmonte didn’t say anything more. Instead he went in to taste their shared breath. He wanted to feel the thud in their combined heartbeats as he led this dance that he yearned for. That he couldn’t stop himself from doing. That he wanted so bad that it was impossible to restrain himself. Marco was forbidden fruit from the Garden of Eden and he wanted to taste it and eat it whole.

Their clothes began to fumble onto the floor…

There was a moment the chatter from outside did cause the two almost lovers to freeze but Danny was quick to change his playlist and turn up the volume. His dad was drinking and it was louder outside than it was in Danny’s bedroom. No one was going to interrupt them, especially since his mom had said she’d make sure of it. With no more interruptions, the Italian boy, the captain of the Edenridge Celtics, swept his tongue into Marco’s mouth again. Nothing between their bodies… finally, he would make this adorable, dorky and spirited geek his. Marco would be his.

Even if only in secret.

Eden Lake is a violent body of water that belies its calm nature. Despite the grassy plains, the muddy but gentle slopes that carry no hidden rocks to jab at the soles of those alongside, and the picturesque views it offers of a rare unincorporated slice of Massachusetts wildlife, it boasts one of the highest kill counts per square mile of any oversized puddle this side of Lake Mead. Or at least that’s how it always seemed. Every Edenridge kid grew up hearing the tales of the weeping Nipmuc child. Everyone alive knew the tragedy of Original Queen Clover Karen Nowinski, sacrificed by the jeering crowd of her peers to Loony Greg Mooney and his drowning hands in the reeds by the shore. Everyone in the newest generation of graduates knew the resting place of David O’Hara due to his various demons, and even if people just arrived in the town during the last three years, they certainly knew now.

However, it was the confirmation that David’s lover wasn’t part of the doomed chorus of the lake that led to the lost soul on the grassy shore to contemplate joining that harem of the damned. While Caitlin Cleary unburdened her soul of a secret that was years in the making, the additional weight on the psyche of Jillian O’Brien drove the girl back to the cursed waters. A bottle was present in her hand, a pint of Russian Prince that had been conspicuously thrown in the back during one of her many trips to the convenience store during her time back at her parents place. It had survived in the trunk of the CR-V, had a stay in the apartment on the shelf for a bit, but it was ever present, as if it was waiting for its chance to lure the redhead back into the drink. Now that Jillian was in the state she was in, the prince had the opportunity.

The former head Clover had her knees tucked up under her chin, one arm wrapped around her legs, the other gripping that vodka bottle for dear life like a tether to reality. And yet, it could easily be her portal to the land beyond. “If I drain this… I could walk into the lake and not feel it. My tolerance has to have gone down since I haven’t been drinking all the time. David had to have done it the same way. It would be apt. It’s what this town wants…” The dark thoughts that had emerged with a vengeance during her self-pity party while listening to the broadcast were now crushing her, forcing her to consider a path that promised the end of the pain. Even the months spent with her new girlfriend weren’t present on her mind at the moment. Just the desire to pay for her perceived crimes, serving as her own pitchfork-wielding mob.

Her vehicle remained stationed at the end of Scott Street, some residents possibly remembering it from when it was regularly parked two houses down at the Madden residence during the better part of a year. Olivia was one of the people on Jill’s mind at the moment. “You’d be with them again. Liv. Kat. Ally. Dad. They must all be stuck there. You can help them. You can’t do it here. You can’t atone for what you did. You can't apologize to those you hurt.” She looked up at the surface of the water and swore she could see the shadows of David and Karen, as well as a little girl in pigtails dressed in white that she couldn’t place. All seemed to be trying to help her find the solution.

Jill looked at the bottle again. Russian Prince wasn’t the best choice to go out on, but it would probably work. What did it matter in the end? She twisted off the plastic cap and took a long swig. She wasn't as great at handling straight vodka, especially since she had been on sodas and beers for the better part of the last few months and Russian Prince tastes exactly like the price you pay for it, but she was managing, downing a few shots worth of liquid with ease. Unfortunately, drinking alcohol was like riding a bicycle. You never forget how to do it if you really want to pick it back up. She looks out over the water, focused on her own final process. "I'm coming soon, girls." Another sip to chase the first followed.

“Where are we going?” A soothing yet regal voice broke the coldness in the atmosphere, piercing the veil. Not too long ago, Amaranth Harding had landed on American soil, where her cousins, Kennedy and Lincoln, picked her and her sister up. She had texted her girls immediately to tell them she got to Boston safely. When Jill didn’t respond, a deep-seated feeling began to boil inside her, making her incredibly uneasy. She called her and texted her once more.

To some this would’ve been seen as silly. To worry about someone the moment you land after an incredibly long flight. Mara would like to think she knew her friends and when Jill didn’t acknowledge her message, giving a thumbs up or sending an emoji at least, she knew something was wrong. Distance gave them a reason to hold each other accountable with communication. The fact that Mara didn’t live in America gave Vivian and Jillian more of a reason to keep her updated with their lives. She tried her best to be available to them and she knew if she needed them, they’d be ready with open arms.

Luck seemed to be on her side when she saw a familiar car near the Madden house. She frowned knowingly. Jill reminded her so much of her mother. Her mother to this day struggles with the monsters of her past. What makes now different than then is she has a support system in the form of her band and two reasons that gave her strength to fight one more day. Two daughters to live for. If not for herself, certainly for her daughters. Evelyn Harding was an ethereal woman, who once upon a time was ice cold to all those that tried to connect with her. Underneath all the ice, all the beauty and magic, was unbearable sadness and unruly individuals trying to control her every move. That was her mother in a nutshell and that’s what she gathered simply by watching and listening.

On pure intuition, Mara knew her friend was in the process of relapsing. Something happened that felt too heavy to bear or carry on her own. Something happened that forced her back into her dark place, with no visible exit door. While Mara knew she wasn’t the person that could get her out of the dark, that seemed more like a Mei job, she could sit with her and help her feel a little less alone. “It’s good to see you, Jill,” Mara added when she didn’t get an immediate response. Cautiously, she took a step forward but not too close. She didn’t want to breach Jill’s bubble, not without her permission. When she was away from the woods and close enough to her friend that she didn’t need to project her voice as much, the raven-haired girl politely offered, “Mind if I sit with you?”

Jill probably shouldn’t have been shocked as she was to hear a voice behind her while starting the process, but to hear a voice without the static of a microphone or the aggravating tone of a FaceTime disconnection was at first puzzling, but then at least something consoling. In all the misery of the Dear David discussions, she had forgotten that Amaranth Harding was coming to Eden.

She should have remembered. When she divulged to Mei that she was friends with the daughter of Eve, one of the founding members of East of Eden, Miss Midnight glowed like the brightest noon at the prospect of access to one of the most progressive rock bands in English history. She knew some of the inside stuff from Mara's recent conversations. How her mom and her best friend Bex Crosby would spend hours binging to numb the sensations while she tried to get through school. Despite the warnings, Jillian followed the same path of destruction.

Another person I owe an apology to.

Mara certainly looked like she fit in with this newer version of Jill as opposed to the high-school edition she first had contact with. All Jill could do for the first few moments was look over at her while the vodka stung the inside of her mouth before it was swallowed. Finally, the redhead gasped for air and spoke. "I don't mind." Jill motioned to the grassy seat next to her. She dug her phone out of her thrift-store purse and saw the notifications in there. "I guess I missed your grand entry back into America. I'm sorry about that." A shorter sip from the bottle follows to ease the pangs of the opening apology. "How the hell did you find me?"

“A premonition, like That’s So Raven,” Amaranth joked as she knelt down, sitting perfectly erect on her legs and knees. She didn’t impose or correct her friend’s behavior. Drinking, that is. The addiction that she personally didn’t partake in because of her mother. She hated alcohol and what it did to the people she loved but she knew that was her opinion and some people truly did enjoy it in moderation. Some people could control their impulses.

The more time someone spends with the eldest Harding, the more they realize that Mara isn’t as stuck up, uptight and shrewd as most people assume. She was confident and assertive, sure, but beneath all that, beneath the natural born leader she would one day be, she was a tender, loving and caring soul, who felt deeply and loved with all her heart. That’s why she didn’t open up easily. She knew once she gave pieces of her heart away, there was no turning back. These individuals would forever be part of her and if they wanted to, they could hurt her because she opened up to them, being her true, authentic and vulnerable self. They could hurt her badly and it would be her fault because she let them in. Even with that knowledge, Mara knew there was no point in fearing the unknown. If it comes to it and she loses people along the way, she has faith she will have someone there to lean her head on. If not her friends, she would always have her mother and sister. “In all seriousness, I saw your car. That led me to Mrs. Cortez which led me here. Easier to find you on Scott Street than anywhere else in Eden, I imagine.”

That line got a laugh out of the O'Brien girl. Ever since Liv and Kat were taken, Scott Street hadn't felt like home. It never had. The O'Briens were always the odd ones out of the founding families, staying on the Loop nearer the common people, but close enough to keep in touch with the elite. However, her beef with the Belmontes left the Maddens as the only link, and losing Liv meant losing the reason to be on Scott. "Easier maybe, but unlikely. Of course, I don't know how many people are going to be looking for a monster like me." Another put-down to her soul brought another sip. "I'm surprised you were willing to look. Almost wish you didn't find me."

“And if I didn’t find you, what would you do? Kill yourself?” Mara replied rather bluntly. There was no malice in her words. There never was. Not toward Jill. Not toward Vivian. Those two got hard truths but it was always laced with undoubtable love. “You remind me so much of my mother…” The dark haired beauty admitted. “Every time I think she gets better, something happens that makes her want to forget all the pain.” Like her father dying. “I will never claim to understand you but I will speak for myself and say, you are not a monster. Sure you have monsters living inside you, I do too, but if you were a monster do you think I would’ve come all this way just to be here with you?” Mara caught Jill’s gaze, as she held her hands together. They rested on her lap. The sun soaked her olive skin while she felt the dampness in the grass. She could tell there was a storm recently. The night before. It was a beautiful day to be sad. A beautiful day to be sad with company.

Sighing deeply, Mara shook her head, firmly disagreeing with her friend’s nonsense, “Monsters embrace the self they shouldn’t enjoy, but do, and yet you want to drown yourself. Is that really what monsters do?”

The fact that her plan was so transparent to someone who had to be jet lagged from the transatlantic flight made Jillian at least drop the hand holding the bottle to her side as opposed to continuously locking lips with it. In that moment, it was tough to feel anything but more shame. Not the remnants of the rain soaking through the small black pair of cotton shorts, nor the slight breeze rustling the oversized white tank failing to hide the neon pink bra underneath. Just a friend calling her out within 10 minutes of sitting down.

"If they know just how much of a monster they are, maybe," she replied sullenly before looking up at Mara, the red under her eyes matching the jacket of the frowning man on the bottle of alcohol. "I hurt so many people, Mara. I said so many things. I was so caught up in myself I ignored people killing themselves and hurting themselves, while I just spread lies and cared about my social status. And for what? In the end, I couldn't even protect someone inside of me!" Jillian stares back over the dark waters, finally taking another sip of the vodka. "I know that you weren't here for the stuff I didn't talk about online, but I did a lot of horrible things. I don't think I can make up for the pain I inflicted on this community, and I can't take the karma that's coming back on me. It's too much." The redhead finally meets Mara's gaze again, the tears starting again. "So what's wrong with making everyone else's life easier and getting rid of the problem?"

Her hand was shaking, as if she knew it was a bad idea, but the pressure in Jill's head was overwhelming at that point. A part of her knows that it isn't the answer. It's just a final way to inflict hurt on those who dared get too close to the toxic Clover. But as she told Marco all those nights ago, she just couldn't be that support structure any more. Not with so many scars on her soul.

While she didn’t say anything immediately, Amaranth did grab her friend’s shaking hand, cupping it in between hers. Like she had said earlier, there were some things she couldn’t understand even if she tried, like losing a child and having to live with that grief. Mara, however, could understand doing bad deeds and spending your life making up for it. Neither Jill nor Viv knew how Mara was at school. All they knew at first was her online persona and when their friendship blossomed, she was reformed and doing better. Trying to at least.

Her dad would say that Grimms preferred the dark but he believed, God willing, that people, regardless of their namesake, could become more than their circumstances. Foundling or no foundling. Money or no money. We choose to take all the bad and turn it into good. We choose our path, and learn through experience, that walking forward isn’t always in a straight line. Sometimes you have to backtrack because there’s a better turn to take. Jill couldn’t protect her daughter because she was pushed down the stairs. She blamed herself when it was obvious who was to blame. What Mara could relate to was using her words to harm. She did and she knew it got someone to commit suicide, right at her campus. She knew the person too and their ghost will forever haunt her, until the day she dies. That was her burden to bear. It was her sin to confess and ask forgiveness for. It was her grief to live with to become a better person. “Easy for who? Me? The fuck it is.” the usually polite Harding brought out her aunty Bex, the grace flying out the window as she firmly held her friend’s hand. “I don’t think that gets rid of the problem. Not really. That’s just you choosing the easy way out.”

The grip on Jill's hand and the swear word flying from Mara's lips jolted her back slightly towards reality. However, it wasn't enough to bring the O'Brien girl back from the edge just yet. "Then what do I do, Mara? What can I do to make this up to people? How the fuck do I undo the damage I did?"

For a few minutes, Vivian Lucasta was just standing from a distance. Not that she meant to be a creeper, but when she got the text that Mara sent and when she took her lunch break under the impression that Dawn would expect her back within the hour she had, there was a high chance that she wouldn’t be. She didn’t even go home to change into something that wasn’t her uniform. It was all kinds of pink (not that Vivian minded one bit). The urgency that was in Mara’s text was one of those situations where she knew she couldn’t waste time picking out an outfit or worry about how she stood out. All she could do was drive her ass to the lake. And when she did, Vivian was the silent witness to the whole exchange, her heart breaking more and more the longer it went on, yet she was almost frozen until she wasn’t.

“You don’t need to do anything!” The blonde abruptly shouted, taking steps forward. There was some part of her that thought if it would be best to take slow steps or if she should proceed with caution, but Vivian wasn’t that kind of friend. She respected boundaries, of course, but Jillian needed her. She needed to know she was loved and that nothing that may have happened in the past is her fault. So she didn’t even think as she took a place on the opposite side Mara was and took Jill’s hand, squeezed it and literally clung to it, hugging it as the blonde needed one of her two best friends in this world to know just how much she was cared about.

“You don’t need to do anything because you have nothing to feel guilty about, Jill! We all love you so much and no matter what, we are going to be here for you through it all!” Her voice was cracking, full of emotions and love for Jill. She was a hot mess with that and tears falling down her face. Vivian never was able to keep her emotions in check. Not when she got her heart broken by Lucky Quinn and especially not when one of two of her best friends in this world needed her.

If Mara was the whisper in the wind that started calling Jill back from the bottom of the lake, Viv Lucasta was definitely the gale force blast trying to push her back from the depths. She came in like a hurricane to the other side of the redhead, dropping the bottle from Jill's hand and spilling the contents on the ground like the Russian Prince's blood a hundred years ago. Jillian never even saw her coming, the pink blur suddenly at her side as red as she was. A cursory glance could confirm that. Vivian was one of the most empathetic people she knew. Capable of blasting a room with sunshine, and yet shouldering the burden of someone's emotional stone instantly. Looking from the blonde Bubbles shedding tears like Niagara to the raven-haired Buttercup cursing and pledging confidence, she felt like a broken Blossom sitting there, a leader with no ability to take control.

The tears were still flowing on her end as well. "I… I have to do something, Viv," Jill sobbed. "I can't… I can't make it up to the people I hurt. I can't tell David I'm sorry… or Quinton… or Ally. Shit, even the people that are alive, I'm not even sure I can apologize. Would Caitlin even listen to me, let alone forgive me? I…am so useless."

Vivian was absolutely gutted hearing Jill blame herself for things that, for everyone knew, weren’t even her fault. She hated not being able to just hug the pain away. But she also understood some part of it all. She hugged her ginger bestie’s arm even tighter, her tears falling on the girl’s pale skin. She hugged so tight that a thought of accidentally snapping it off entered her mind. “You’re not useless! You’re not, Jill!” She muttered somewhat clearly, her voice rich with the raw emotions she was feeling. “Who we were in high school doesn’t define the person we are now. If it did, well just ask Mara.” The bubbling mess of a blonde looked at Mara. “I would be a naive, boy crazy fool who couldn’t spot a red flag even if I was a bull from Spain.” She thought about who she was and who she would have been if she never met Mara and Jillian when she did. The trajectory of her life was different now.

“And I wouldn’t have been friends with either of you two,” Mara admitted, not looking at them as she spoke. She still held Jill’s hand but she was staring off at the lake, dissociating, lost in her own mind and the events that transpired prior to her arriving in Edenridge. “Jill, if you’re going to hell, I’m going with you.” She could see her family, Eve and Aster, and how much her father’s death severed the bonds they had together. She knew her mom meant well, as did her sister, but it did hurt to see all the people around her drowning. She needed to be strong for them, which also meant she needed to own up to her own wrongdoings. “I was raised with a silver spoon, and I knew I was better than everyone. I suppose you two are more fortunate to have gone to public school. Private school is an entirely different beast.”

Glancing over to her two friends, both deeply shattered because of their own personal experiences, Viv letting boys steal pieces of her soul, Jill blaming herself for the sins of her family, her ex and this town, she searched their eyes for connection, a silent way of saying she wasn’t doing okay herself but she was trying, for them, “Up until I met you two, I wasn’t a good person. I don’t talk much about my life outside of the band, my sister and my dad. Or well, when he was alive I talked about him, like how when we traveled we would throw a dart on a map to decide our next destination. Small things like that. I find the simplicity of what you two go through far more interesting than my life. I will never claim to be good.” She squeezed Jill’s hand, understanding her more than she’d ever realize.

“But I do know I’m actively trying to be better. I am who I am, no excuses. What I can control is what I do from this point on, if not for myself, then for you two, and all those who would be at my funeral. You understand, Jill?” Mara sharply gazed at the redhead. She wasn’t going to promise her life will get better. What she will say is if she changed the way she thought and the things she did have control over, like forcing herself to apologize to those she felt she wronged, then that is a start. All she needed to do was start somewhere and from there the rest will fall into place. She already did. She just didn’t see it. Jillian O’Brien was changing. She was reflecting on her past, she wasn’t constantly turning to the bottle and she smiled more, she was open to talk, she was receiving the love given to her and not hiding from it, afraid to get hurt. That was likely all thanks to Mei Ramsey.

Jill was still crying as this was going on, the salty tears rimming the vodka cocktail swirling in the mud. At her lowest point, it felt like she had no friends in the world. That there were more enemies and blank faces than allies. Certainly post-Ally. Most definitely after hitting the post of the Barrie staircase. There was even that time when she wasn't sure if Mei was just tolerating her presence as thanks for the support in the high school wars. But the high-school era Jillian O'Brien was never truly coming back. There would be bits and pieces brought forth, but never the alpha queen that ruled the class. That was a rule of fear. Machiavelli said it was better to be feared than loved, but once no one is afraid of you, and there is no love to fill that void, it becomes clear that all that's left is the darkness.

Even as Jillian figured that being a ghost was all that's left, it was amazing that the friends that she swore she never would forget had to remind her there was still a reason for that body to reject the sickness. Hell, they drained their hearts to make sure she wasn't joining the dead.

Today had forced her to relive the past through new eyes and she hated every bit of what she saw. And the memories of the past few years usually drove her to the drink for all the wrong reasons. But Viv and Mara were more recent additions to her friend circle, and while she didn't consider them as part of her support system, they were definitely pulling their weight now.

"I think so," Jill finally confirms. "I know I'm not the person I was in high school. But what am I? Just a waitress then? I don't know what else I can do. I can't erase the past. I don't know what I do for the future." Her hands tense against her friends' own. "I don't know if I can go back to school, or if I'm just going to be working and stuck here. I know you think your mom traveling around is rough, but I am so jealous of being able to do that, Mara. Shit, if Mei and I, if she still wants me, if we…" Jill's mind was racing way too far in the future now. It was an improvement but she still had to shake her head to get herself back into reality. "Sorry, emotions and shit. Mara, I'm sorry I made you run out here right after a 12-hour flight, and Viv, I'm sorry I made you… clearly ditch work. I… appreciate the help with the pain."

Vivian vehemently shook her head. “Don’t even sweat it, Jilly! This was more important. Besides!” She couldn’t help but become a little giddy thinking about her excuse of getting out of work. “I took my lunch break! I’m sure Dawn hasn’t even noticed I’ve been gone…though, it’s probably swamped right about now…” As painful as it was here, she just knew her big sister would have some words for her whenever she returned, be it at their apartment or when she returned a couple hours later than she was supposed to…

"At least you have people who might be noticing you're gone," Jill noted. "And who want you back for good reasons. That was part of why I was out here. I didn't think I'd be missed."

”Bitch, you better be fucking joking!” Mei had heard enough. Standing directly behind the Powerpuff Girls with her hands on her hips and tears in her eyes, the goth girl’s face was paler than normal, incensed by what she was hearing. When she had returned home from the studio after Caitlin’s confession, she found the apartment empty and more specifically, her shelf of liquor missing a certain Russian prince. Mei knew better than anyone that the Czar was Jillian’s drink of choice when it came time to fall into the depths of her wallowing soul. This was why when she saw it was missing that she immediately tracked Jill’s phone to the shores of Eden lake. The Wiccan girl immediately hopped into the Comet and sped with reckless abandon to Scott Street and the cut back between the O’Hara and Cleary homes.

Mei stormed a circle around the trio until she stood before them, the cold water that housed a thousand lost souls beneath its surface washing away at her Doc Martens. “You really think I wouldn’t miss you?” The dark priestess wanted to feel disbelief but she knew better. She knew that Jill had demons that even she couldn’t fight away, not with magic or words. She hoped her love would be enough. “Jillybean.” Mei dropped to her knees in front of her Ashes and could feel the vodka and tears mixture seep between the gaps in her fishnet tights. She placed her hands on Jill’s pale face as she looked into her big brown eyes. “You’re a fucking cunt!” With an almighty wallop, Miss Midnight slapped her girlfriend square in the face. As she did she shot the other Puffs a menacing look, daring them to try and intervene.

“Get your fucking head out of your ass. Jill O’Brien, I have loved you since our days in the fucking sandbox. I have been with you every day, giving you everything, every part of me. And you have the audacity to say you wouldn't be missed? I should kick your beautiful stupid sexy fat fucking ass!” Mei could feel the warm salted tears begin to well up as she ripped away the choker she always wore around her neck to reveal the large scar on her throat. “Everyday I wake up and I look in the mirror and I see this. And I go back to that day. I go back and I remember that as I lay in a pool of my own fucking blood, I remember thinking, ‘I hope Jill got out’. I remember Roddy fucking Callahan pulling my ass out of that room and asking him ‘Is Jill ok?’ Don’t you dare, ever, say that you won’t be missed. Cos the only reason I didn’t die is because I couldn’t stand the thought of being away from you.”

Well, that’s one way to get Jill to listen. Amaranth released Jill’s hand so that she was free from her grasp and able to react in whatever way she pleased. She sat there quietly, adjusting herself so that she was no longer on her knees but sitting sideways. She watched this storm of a woman come whirling in to give her girlfriend a wake up call. Mara tilted her head, observing the lover’s quarrel. She smiled to herself, recalling her parents. Evelyn Harding and George Grimm. They were passionate lovers. George would never hesitate to remind Eve why she mattered, even if his words weren’t always the softest. He loved her with all his heart and would never let her fall, even if sometimes it did take a toll on him. He loved her and now he is gone. If Jill couldn’t live for friends, perhaps she could live for love. Not many people are as lucky to have a girlfriend like Mei Ramsey. Not many people are as lucky to be in a relationship. Not many people are as lucky to understand how it feels to love and be loved in return. Jill was lucky. Mara hoped she saw how lucky she was.

Like the hurricane she was, when Mei Ramsay had come rushing in, Vivian felt all of those familiar feelings of her muscles tensing up. Mei was sweet and a force, but this was Vivian's own reaction to aggression in general. She never did well with it and for one reason or another (mostly following Mara’s suit), she released her tight, clinging grasp on Jill’s other arm and stood up, dusting whatever particles ruined her work uniform. Jillian meant so much to them all. She was loved by them all. Mei was just the kind of abrasive, in-your-face reminder of that. Vivian just hoped and prayed on her metaphorical knees that Jill could see that.

Jill should have expected this would happen. Mei was never one to take perceived slights lightly, and listening to her chastise her for her abrupt trip to the lake was proper punishment. Even the vicious slap to the face, adding her cheek to the blotchy red skin around her eyes, was warranted in Jill's eyes. That passion that defined Miss Midnight was always there, and she was going to take what she deserved, world be damned.

But Jill still didn't know how or why she was at the top of that list. The scar on Mei's neck was a grisly reminder of the pain of that day, when she knew she lost two of her friends and very nearly lost what would eventually be the whole pack. Hearing Mei confirm that her thoughts weren't to her family as Roddy dragged her away, but to Jill's queen-bitch entitled ass? Even back then?

"Mei," the redhead finally spoke, soft enough for all three of them to barely hear it over the rustling wind. "Why do you love me?" She could probably leave it there and hope for an answer but the efforts of Vivian and Amaranth had only gotten Jill to around 60% of her restored levels of confidence post-Carlisle Street. "You say you've loved me since we were kids, but I was a horrible child. Like you said, my head gets so far up my own ass, I can't see anything else. I tried to solve other people's problems, but only when it served me. I destroyed so many lives with a casual flick. I ignored Ally's problems, blinded by hero worship. I made Quinton even more of an outcast. I shoved so many beneath me into the depths of the social pool. I drove CeCe away. I… helped push David into that lake… " She couldn't bear to look her girlfriend in the face. "...And I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same to the senior who fucked you when you were a freshman."

When Mei made the admission on air, Jill didn't have to think all that long and hard about who the likely candidate was for that relationship. It didn't take a Kylee-level investigation to figure out that as Allison Davies was a guiding figure in Jill's cheerleading career, Mei had found her senior soul sister in the darkness when Sabrina Aviles took her under her raven wing. United in magic, death and rock music. High school Jillian would have loved to take a shot at denting that family's seemingly impervious armor. Sabrina would have been burned at the stake, and honestly, she probably would have enjoyed it if it wasn't metaphorical. But that was just a sign that the monster Jill sought to slay still dwelled within to a point.

"Mei, I ignored you for all those years, oblivious to the full scope of your feelings while being so hyper focused on Danny and the rotating cast of guys and Mike. Fucking Mike. I ran my way through the male roster of Edenridge High, running away from any feelings that being 'outside the norm' could make me happy. Even after everything, hitting rock bottom and watching you drag me back up from hell, I doubted. I doubted the power of your love because I can only think of my own pain. You can argue that I've hurt you the most of anyone in this town. So why, Mei?" Jill finally looked Miss Midnight in the eyes, blurs obscuring both visions as the tears continue to cascade to soothe the pain of the slap and try to wash the emotions away. Her voice held no anger like her partner, just a weary disbelief at the world. "Why do you love an absolute monster like me?"

”Why do I love you?” Mei repeated her girlfriend's words as she couldn’t hide the knives that Jill was stabbing onto her heart. Q had always been a sore spot for the DJ and even to this day she worshiped the ground that Sabrina walked on. She was under no illusions about the type of person Jill was back then and had no qualms with telling her as much but Mei herself was no saint either. ”Why do I love you?” She said again before forcefully grabbing a tight hold of Jillian’s face. ”Let me count the fucking ways. How about because every time I look into those beautiful brown eyes my entire world melts away? And all that’s left inside of me is a warmth and a desire that literally leaves me breathing only for you?

The inner rage that was sweeping through the midnight girl like previous night's torrential storm was palpable. ”Or maybe it’s the fact that my entire life I have tried to be alternative and different and the weirdest fucking twat in the room and in spite of all that, even at your prissiest bitchiest, you were the only person that supported me? Ally? Reagan? Don’t make me laugh.” Mei couldn’t stop the tears now, this was her at her most vulnerable. This version of her was and always had been reserved solely for Jill O’Brien. ”Ally killed herself. David, killed himself. I have no doubt, at all, that Quinton mouthed off to Charlie and that got him killed. You didn’t do any of that. Not alone. I did that. Viv did that. Lanie, Beau, Principal Paine? The entire fucking universe did all that. We’re all fucking monsters. Jilly, I cast spells in my spare time. And if you’re a monster I summoned, then I will never ever let you fucking go because, you absolute mental patient, you fucking complete me.”

Those brown eyes were certainly melting. Jillian always had explanations for everything in high school, but there was one that when Olivia or Kat asked her, she never truly had an answer for: Why, when she helped confirm that so many other outcasts would stay trapped in the caste system, did she keep fighting to make sure Mei Ramsey stayed out of that same set of boxes? Even when she wasn't following her heart to its true north heading, Mei was always a part of her life. No exceptions. There were thoughts swirling as answers in her mind, but they wouldn't do any good trapped in that battered brain. They needed to be released. Even in the presence of her fellow Puffs.

"Mayday…" Jill finally started. "Your eyes give me hope. Freedom. The thought that with a simple flick, there is something coming that may be unexpected, but it will always be worthwhile. I loved that. Love that." She had to correct herself. That mischief certainly wasn't gone. "I still do. Your scars give me resolve, even when my own seem so overwhelming to deal with. The thought of losing that fire even for a moment drove me here. Your artwork gives me joy, seeing it in whatever medium you choose, including your own skin. Hopefully soon mine as well. Your hands give me courage, knowing that when I'm in trouble, battling whatever I am battling, there's a second pair as backup, waiting for a chance to get in there and lay some hits. Even if they need to be used against me. The tears were still flowing against the palm mark on her face, but Jill couldn't feel it for a second. The emotions were too strong. Emotions that were shoved aside for too long but were now overflowing again, like their first confession to each other. She was still in Mei's hands, but her own were now firmly rested on the dark-haired girl's shoulders. "Your body gives me comfort, finding that warmth you don't say is in there, but I know it is. Your brain gives me everything I need, even before I know I need it. And your lips…" Jill leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on those painted lips, tasting the mixed tears on both their faces, a salty blast of the emotional tea being spilled between the two. The redhead pulled back after a couple of seconds. "Those lips give me life. In so many ways." The woman who just delivered a university-level soliloquy, at least in her mind, let her head collapse against her lover's body. "I'm sorry, Mei. I'm sorry for everything. For causing you pain, for stealing and wasting the vodka, and I'm sorry for making you wait for this."

”Well now you’re just getting sappy. Toughen up cupcake.” Mei smiled from ear to ear. She knew that with those words Jill would be ok. Perhaps not right away or any time soon but she would get there and the young Ramsey would help her. Maybe once all was said and done, Jill could attend a few sessions with Mei’s mother? She knew that if anyone else could get through to the once and former foundling it would be Shannon. As much as she hated to admit it, Mei’s mom had a talent for getting in peoples heads and hearts. ”I’ve got you, baby. I’m never going to let you go. No matter how much of a pain in the ass you are.”

Jill didn’t want to move her head from Mei’s shoulder in that moment. She wanted to cling to her liferaft, keeping her safe above the waves. “I’m sorry, I’m going to keep being a pain in the ass. I… drank too much of that vodka before it hit the ground. I’m going to need a ride home… and then a ride back here tomorrow to grab the car again.”

Mei’s dark eyes shot around the Powerpuffs that had guided her Jill through the fog and into her arms. ”Thank you both for helping her. It means absolutely everything.” The tattoo artist's words were dripping with sincerity before her face scrunched up once more. ”Say anything about this to anyone we don’t want you to and I’ll kick both your asses and fuck you with some garden shears. Am I clear?”

Jill finally lifted her head and looked back and forth to her two friends, one online, one often busy, but both here in the moment, filling roles she didn’t know she needed refilled, but appreciated nonetheless. “That’s just Mei speak for thank you very much… but seriously, don’t tell anyone. She does not keep those garden shears clean.”

At this point, Mara went from attentive and focused to exasperated and irritated. Picking herself up, seeing the mud spots on her jeans, she gave her best winning smile, “No problem. Clearly I’m just like my cousin, Kylee.” A little passive aggressive. She needed to tone it down. “Sorry… jet lag and all. On that note, I’ll see you lovers later,” Mara dismissed herself, not one for physical touch. Instead, she nodded at Jillian and her girlfriend before leading the charge, clearly uncomfortable from the massive display of PDA.

“Vivian? You coming? I want to play tennis,” the Mayor’s niece said matter-of-factly, not slowing down for anyone. One could say Amaranth Harding was not someone who simply rested. No, she had to do as much as she could before she decided to call it a day. She was on a plane for hours and did not feel productive. At most she was able to write her paper for an online summer course but other than that? Nothing. She was dreadfully behind and it stressed her out.

Seeing and hearing and watching how Jillian had someone like Mei to hold her hand as she walked out of her own abyss brought a smile to Viv's face but also just a little jealousy. She wanted that kind of romance. The kind where when she was down, she could have someone that would hold her hand like that. Someone to call her out on her own stupidity. However, that didn’t change how utterly happy and relieved she was that Jill had someone so perfect for her like Mei Ramsay. She found her person and she knew she would find hers. Some day. “I’ll text you later, Jill.” She gave the redhead a smile that lingers for a few moments as Jillian returned a nod.

And then Viv immediately tagged along with Mara when she could sense her eyes staring into the back of her head. She couldn’t explain it but that’s just how Mara was. “Yeah I’m coming! Can we stop by my place before? Kinda wanna change out of this—” She stopped herself , thinking about the possibility that Dawn might be at their apartment. “— Or I can just stay in what I have on.” She walked into the abyss with Mara and Jill and yet the wrath of her big sister still made her tremble more.

“We can stop at the Manor. I need to change into my tennis wear anyways, I have several if you want to keep any. Like the pink one, I know how much you love pink. Or pastels in general.”

She giggled. “That’d be great! You’ve always had the better taste for anything physical related. Most of mine isn’t even that well-equipped for tennis.” The two left the Lake area, their work done.

With the departure of the Puffs, Mei moved herself out of the mud and water and dropped down on Jill’s side where Mara once sat. Posh Spice had a warm ass. Before turning to her girlfriend, the goth goddess tied her choker back around her neck. It had been nearly forty eight hours since Mei had slept. Between drinking and dancing, hosting the Midnight Frequency to training and helping Jilly prep for her interview with the strange entrepreneur they met under the neon of the Afterlife, the Ramsey girl had finally started to feel the crash. She leaned back, her palms digging into the mud behind her, her dark eyes looking at the redhead she loved. ”If you want, we can try and get you some sessions with my Mom. If you think that’ll help?”

As Jill saw her distant friend and her sunshine friend depart together, she felt the adrenaline start to come down a little. Her emotions were starting to return to their usual balance. It wasn't a great balance, but it was better than it was over the last year. As Mei sat upright, Jillian could see the toll that the last two days was taking on her girlfriend. And yet she was still trying to find solutions. Jill had to do more for her.

The redhead nods as she looks into those pools of black. "Yeah," she agrees. "That might be something… I need. Hopefully there is a steep family discount on sessions." She nervously laughs. Therapy was not something that was talked about in her family. Her father was adamant that a lot of mental health issues were hogwash and excuses. Of course, it was the physical health that ended up being his problem. "I trust your mom, so it should be OK. But I need you do something for me tonight."

“I need you to get some sleep, love. The last two days have been rough, and I know they have been rough on you, but it's been rougher watching you try and be a freaking superwoman when it's just not possible to pull off. Trust me. I miss having you in bed with me. I want you to take the night off and get some sleep. I can host the Frequency for you. I've heard enough songs that I am starting to get a good ear for them. Lauren Babic's new one totally slaps."

A smile from Mei Ramsey had to be earned. It was reserved for the rare few and Jillian O’Brien. From their days in the sandbox, to slipping each other notes in Beau’s class and shaking their tight asses at basketball players at Celtic games, Mei always had a smile for Jill. ”That it definitely does.” The dark priestess moved her hand to lace with her lovers. ”You know me babe, can’t stop won’t stop until I’m dead and even then that’s pushing it. But for you…” Mei gently kissed Jill’s shoulder and turned to look at the dark lake. ”I’ll do my best but let’s not worry about that right now. We’re here, we’re together. Just be with me, you fucking slut. Just be with me right now. Tomorrow can be tomorrow’s fucking problem.”

Tomorrow. Jillian O’Brien was a half-pint of cheap vodka and a few muddy steps away from having no tomorrow. And 30 minutes ago, she would have welcomed the prospect. But with her girlfriend… her partner, leaning against her, finding solace in just the touch of her body, she couldn’t be selfish enough to deny Miss Midnight her pillow, her rock… her everything. Mei said it herself. Even knowing the monster that high-school Jill was, she stepped up against the ghosts’ siren song. Her friends did too. She still had them. “All right, Mei. In the words of Avril Lavigne, I’m with you. I’m with you. I’m with you.” She softly sang the last two, knowing it would probably get a rise out of her significant other. But that could also be another problem for another time. For now, to quote another song from the Canadian songstress, she had her head above water… and maybe there will be a meeting at an altar in the future. At the very least, she would fall down on her knees for this woman.

“You know I’m playing Avril tonight, right?”

Mei was scared of only a few things. Losing Jill was the top of that list and had been for as long as she could remember. She was only seconded by the loss of her family, clowns and the destruction of everything she had worked so hard to build for herself in her few short years on the Goddess’ planet Earth. ”If I wake up and you’ve played Avril, I am going to drown you in this lake my own Damn self.” the Midnight girl teased her lover before planting a soft kiss on her pale cheek.

"Says the woman who Wonderwall'd her audience," Ashes giggled and fired back.

For years together, Mei Ramsey and Jill O’Brien were known as fierce and unstoppable forces of nature. Recently, the jagged sword they once wielded had been filled by pain and suffering of their own. No more. It was time to sharpen their blades again and show Edenridge that they hadn’t gone soft. That despite the sadness they carried that they would not allow the Hellmouth to swallow them up like it had so many others. Not Jill and Not Mei. They would burn this town to the fucking ground before they were done.

”This place ain’t ready for us yet, baby.”

"It doesn't matter if this place is ready for us or not. I am."

The remainder of Kianna’s week had gone on as busy and quiet as usual; with no more unexpected encounters with attractive customers who flipped her world upside down. As much as she wanted to pretend that she wasn’t interested in whatever Niles Sinclair was selling, Ki did often find herself entertaining scenarios of what could happen if she accepted his invitation to the coffee date. She found herself staring blankly at the contact information of his she'd saved on her phone quite frequently: be it during break at the shop, sitting alone in her car or laying in bed at the end of the day. Her small thumbs would hover over the device's touch screen, waiting for the brain signals that would instruct them to type up and send that ‘I've thought about what you said, and I'm saying yes’ text message she was sure Niles was hoping for. But the more thought she gave to the situation, the more overwhelmed she became with the potential risks involved and the possibilities of everything that could go wrong… Until she mentally exhausted herself with overthinking, and she eventually talked herself out giving an answer.

That Friday had started out with nothing out of the ordinary: two oil changes, a radiator replacement, the replacement of a brake pad set and organizing some inventory. Ki had been engrossed in entering the last few notes regarding repairs she’d just done to a customer’s vehicle before departing for lunch that she didn't notice when a visitor entered the shop. A fresh-faced young woman wearing denim shorts, white Converse sneakers and a short-sleeved, blush-colored button-down blouse quietly made her way into the room. In her arms, she carried a stunning flower arrangement of fresh lilac peonies, muted purple orchids and off-white roses that was about the size of her torso. After looking around the large space for any visible shop employee, the short brunette spotted the curly-haired woman behind the desk and made a beeline straight to her.

“Hiiiii!” Somehow, the girl’s kind, mellow voice miraculously rang across the room in between the racket of power tools and clanging metal. “I’ve got a delivery for Kianna Johnson?”

The sound of her full name falling from the visitor's lips made Kianna's head snap up. She rose from her chair to address the girl better when her eyes landed on the large bouquet in her small hands. Immediately, Ki froze. She could feel her eyes widen and her mouth slightly agape in surprise.

"That's, uh, that's me," the light-skinned woman admitted, still staring at the flowers in disbelief while trying to process what was happening. "I'm Kianna Johnson."

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't even begin to wrap her head around the possibility that the person who she suspected had done this had even done this in the first place. It wasn’t that she hadn’t been gifted flowers before. Her mother, her family members, the guys at the shop and even Landon had all presented her with bouquets for special occasions a few times. But for someone else to go through the trouble of splurging in such a lavish display for someone they had just met surprised her, shocked her, baffled her… But also made her heart skip a few beats with an elation she hadn't experienced in the last few years.

"Oh, great!" The girl chirped with a bright grin, nearly skipping the remaining steps to close the distance between herself and Kianna before carefully placing the flowers on the desk. Out of a small messenger bag covered with 80’s horror movie reference pins, she pulled out an iPad in a thick case cover, and after a few taps on the screen she presented it to the other woman. “Um, if you could please just sign your name on the signature line for me as proof of delivery, I would really appreciate it.”

“Uh, yeah, sure," Kianna mumbled out, doing as she was told and signing the pad with her finger. “Do you, um, do you have any idea who sent these?" she heard herself asking the delivery girl as she returned the device to her, even though she knew exactly who's generosity she had been blessed with.

Instead of a clear response, the shorter girl shot Kianna a mysterious little smirk, followed by a small shrug. “He said you’d know when you read the card.”

Kiki pursed her lips and nodded. Of course he did. Based on their first interaction, that seemed exactly like the kind of thing he would say.

Having put the iPad away back inside her messenger bag, the younger woman turned to Kianna, that friendly smile still locked in place. “If you need any help or advice with caring for your flowers, just give us a call over at Hummingbird Creations and ask for Freya. That’s me. You’ll find our contact information in this card right here.” She told Kianna, tapping the small business card sticking from one side of the bouquet with her blue-lacquered fingernail and stepping away from the service desk. “Well, that’s everything from me! I hope you have a good day, Miss Kianna! Enjoy your flowers!” Freya cried out happily, giving Kiki a parting wave before skipping out of the shop.

Once Freya had made her departure, Kianna took a moment to discreetly look around the shop. She ensured that the perimeter was clear before plucking the card from the bouquet, carefully opening the envelope and pulling it out.

When her hazel eyes fell on the contents of the card, the light-skinned girl let out a small giggle of amusement. On the smooth cardboard surface, her admirer had written down the words Me + You = followed by a drawn to-go cup with the name BEAU emblazoned across it. The very obvious reminder of his invitation was lighthearted, humorous and incredibly cute: just like the person who had sent it.

Still beaming (and maybe even blushing), Kianna grabbed the card and the bouquet from the desk, bent down, and began to hide her gifts under her desk. As grateful as she was for the surprise, she didn’t feel ready yet to discuss the events taking place in her romantic life with the guys at the shop. For all she knew, this could be a one-off thing that wouldn’t even go anywhere in the first place, and having to give explanations would be more mortifying than not.

But just as she had placed the bouquet on the floor--

“Are those flowers?”

Kianna Joy shut her eyes and cursed under her breath.

The baritone voice of the garage’s owner, Phil Bristol, carried over from the door he’d just opened from the shop area. He’d run up to his apartment for a quick lunch and took longer than planned when he noticed how much his dishes had piled up and decided to clean them in the moment. He hadn’t been worried, Kianna was more than able to take care of herself around the shop, and lord help anyone that questioned that girl’s ability. But still, as he’d disappeared for longer than he said he would, he decided to go apologize to Kianna at the desk before he resumed his work. He wasn’t expecting the girl to be trying to stuff a bouquet under the service counter while the door closed behind the youngest Osprey child. Had she been the one to deliver them?

He couldn’t see her face from where he was behind her, but the girl’s shoulders tensed like another person he knew when getting caught in the middle of something, and Phil couldn’t help the playful smirk that came with the physical confirmation. As someone who’s watched her grow up and become comfortable in the shop, it was now his and the rest of the garage’s regular inhabitants duty to tease her light heartedly whenever they could. She always gave back as much as she got, all things considered. “Who got you flowers, Kianna? Does the crew need to give someone the shovel talk?”

"It's nothing," Kianna quickly interjected, hastily shoving the bouquet under the desk before turning to her boss, trying not to look like a child who’d just gotten busted doing something they shouldn’t. But after a moment of silence with her hazel eyes locked with his, the young woman’s guarded nature softened.

“Actually… It might be something… If I let it happen.” the curly-haired girl admitted, bending back down under the desk to retrieve the flower bouquet to show Phil the breathtaking gift she’d been surprised with. “Can we talk about it in your office real quick?”

For the last eight years, Phil Bristol had been a cross between a mentor, a boss and an uncle figure in Kianna’s life. She had first met the man at age 14, having been introduced to him by Eddie Garnere once the older man had discovered the girl’s raw talent for auto mechanics during her freshman year. The introduction had resulted in an apprenticeship position at the shop, which evolved into a part-time and eventually a full-time position once she had finished her high school and technical school education. Throughout the years, Phil had not only earned Ki’s respect and admiration, but her utmost trust and affection. He had been there for her as she took her first steps in what would eventually become her career, during the blooming and wilting of her relationship with Landon James, through the grief of losing her mother at age 18, as she navigated adulthood without living parents, through the pain of losing her ex-boyfriend the year before… Whenever Ki needed someone to talk to outside of her family, who would genuinely listen to her and give her honest advice, she was always sure that she could count on Phil to be that person. Some might argue that it was through her resilience, dedication, determination and hard work that she had achieved her goals. But Kianna knew that, without the opportunities and support from Phil and Eddie, her life would be looking vastly different.

"Of course, Ki," His demeanor softened at the unsure look the young woman sent his way, and he couldn't bring himself to tease her anymore when she was allowing herself to be vulnerable with him. Watching Kianna grow up and change had been an honor, and one that he highly regarded at that, so when she was nervous enough to ask for a private chat during work hours he knew she wanted a serious conversation.

Those flowers looked expensive, too, and Phil was beginning to suspect who had sent them already, memory of his quick encounter with Niles Sinclair flitting through his mind. It had been odd enough to see the boy in his shop, given that the family tended to use a garage out in Boston for their work, but it was even odder that the young man had engaged Phil in conversation. Most of what the man had said revolved around the amazing service of one Kianna Johnson, and how well she did her job or how she made him feel welcomed. Phil had followed that line of conversation easily, always ready to praise his employees, his family, whenever he could. But he knew that Niles wasn't one to just say things like that, he could see the spark of interest in the younger man's eyes, and he'd been wondering about when the doctor's son would make a move.

Phil led Kianna into his office and lightly closed the door, pulling out her seat for her before taking one of his own. Not the one behind his desk, but the other customer seat right next to her so there was nothing between them.

"What's got you flustered, kiddo?"

The light-skinned girl pressed her lips together as she took the seat Phil had pulled out for her. She'd have to tell the story from the very beginning so the man could know exactly how this whole thing started.

"Do you remember Tuesday morning, when I told you there was a customer who was rude to me over the phone on the first call I took that day, and told you I put them in check?" she began, eyes locked on her lap as she fiddled with the fringes in the fabric of her uniform. "Well, about an hour after that, this guy showed up at the shop, said his name is Niles. He was nice to me, pretty polite too, and everything went on as normal. We talked for a little bit, he flirted a little, I got flustered and nervous because you know things like that don't really happen to me… Well it turns out that this Niles is the guy who snapped at me over the phone. So when I confronted him about it-- because you know I would definitely say something about it--, he apologized profusely… and then he asked me out on a coffee date." She revealed, feeling her cheeks flush at the admission. "I told him I needed a few days to think about it and that I'd let him know, and he was perfectly fine with that. That's when Mandy came into the shop, so we wrapped up the conversation and I sent him to you to get his bike. I hadn't gotten back to him about the date yet, so I guess he thought I needed a little motivation to make up my mind." Kianna said with a small smile, finally shifting her eyes back to Phil.

“Do you want to make up your mind?” Phil asked the young woman honestly. He had nothing against Niles, and the kid is always amiable when they chat, but Kianna’s feelings come before any opinions he had on Rye’s friend. Kianna’s safety and health was as much his responsibility now as it had been the first time she crossed the shop threshold to start her internship. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for you that you’re considering it in the first place, but I want to make sure you’re not feeling pressured at all first.”

The young woman was quick to shake her head. "It's not that I don't want to give him a chance," she explained, fiddling with her uniform again. "I do. I've been thinking about it all week. I guess I’m just weary of what a guy like that wants with someone like me. And this isn't me lacking confidence or not knowing my worth as a person, by the way, because you know I wouldn't do that. But what could a rich Northie guy like him be looking for in-- in me?"

“I mean, there’s a strong allure to a woman that can put even the largest of egos in their place,” Phil responded with little thought. “Class difference isn’t always a reason to avoid someone, some people never even think about boundaries. You remember Rye, the friend Mordechai used to have hangin’ around the shop all the time?”

"Yeah…" Kianna replied slowly, a small frown settling in her forehead. What did Rye have to do with their current conversation?

“Well, he never cared about lines or borders in this town, he ran all over the place, and he’s been friends with Niles practically since he moved here,” The man disclosed, putting a hand on the woman’s shoulder and squeezing it lightly. “I’ve never cared about crossing lines in this town, and I’ve got friends from all over,” He thought of his own group of friends, how they were all unafraid to tread over the borders that this town seemed to thrive on keeping up, how they trampled over social and community lines with total abandon. Sometimes people just see people. “There have always been relationships from all sides of town. This isn’t some Northie being interested in you, Kianna, this is Niles the person asking you out. You’re allowed to have nice things, no caveats.”

It was something he’s said to all the kids that come through his shop over the years, and something he said repeatedly to those that continued to hang around. It was something damn near every child in this town needed to hear.

While Kianna nodded slowly to show Phil acknowledgement of his words, she pondered over what he’d said in silence. There was a very good reason as to why she would be hesitant to allow herself to indulge in having or experiencing “nice things”. In the past, good things happening in Ki’s life would be followed by something that would bring her to the lowest of lows. The happiness she’d felt at the peak of her first relationship had slowly degraded into emotional burnout by the time it had ended. The joy of graduating high school and attending technical school alongside her mother had been cut short by the latter’s unexpected passing. The satisfaction of earning her degree had been eclipsed by the news of Landon’s tragic death at the hands of an officer during what was said to be a drug deal gone bad, and the guilt she felt about her inability to be his savior still haunted her. With such a cursed record, it was no surprise that she’d be fearful of the pain that could follow allowing herself to be happy again-- much less with somebody else.

“I understand what you’re saying, Phil. I do. I know I shouldn’t hold back from taking a chance on something that could make me happy, but I think I’m just… Scared about it backfiring, you know? It already happened to me before. You know how much I loved Landon. You know how I gave him everything I had and more, until I didn’t have anything else to give. I tried to help him in any way I could, but even then I still couldn’t save him in the end. And that’s just one example. I’m sure this Niles guy is great and all, but I’m not sure I want to carry the guilt of failing someone else again.”

“Hey, you didn’t fail anybody,” Phil corrected with a frown. “Everyone makes their own choices in life, and as bad as this is going to sound, I think you need to hear it if you’re really going to give Niles a chance. Everyone makes their own choices, and it disrespects the dead for the living to stay awake at night wondering how they could have changed those choices. If you go through your life scared of accepting other people’s choices as their own, you’re gonna live one step away from a broken heart for the rest of your life. Now you’ve got everyone in this shop and more to catch you if you fall from your own choices, but we won’t make them for you and we won’t tell you they were wrong just because they hurt. Stop focusing so hard on trying to keep the sand in your hands and just listen to the waves,” He gave the woman a moment to breathe before continuing. “Now answer without thinking of every scenario first: do you want to accept Niles’ invitation to a date?”

“I mean, he is kind of cute,” the young woman admitted, her freckled cheeks taking on a red tinge. “And he did make me laugh a little when he was here… And those flowers? My favorite flowers in my favorite color? I’ve never seen a bouquet so beautiful in my entire life…” she trailed off, allowing her lips to curl up into a tender, genuine smile at the thought of her first interaction with Niles and the gift he’d surprised her with. “I guess one little date wouldn’t hurt, right? It’s not like I’m going to marry the guy or anything like that. A cup of coffee, a few pastries, and little conversation. I think I can do that.”

Phil smiled at the look on Kianna’s face more than the response she had given him. She may not know it, but that blush had answered for her before her own words had the chance, and Phil could read those that he considered his kids like a book. Lucky for him, by this point those people were also willing to be an open book with him. Leaning back in his seat, Phil spread his arms out wide as if to say, there, you see? Just like that.

“Well then, there’s your choice. Way to make it, kiddo,” Phil’s smile faded into a serious face before he commented. “But really, just because we’re looking on the positive doesn’t mean you’re gonna do anything crazy like leave the mace at home. Keep that shit on you at all times.”

Kianna immediately burst into laughter at the man's last remarks. Leave it to Phil to succumb to his fatherly instincts and say something like that. “C'mon, Phil, you know me better than that. And in case I do forget-- which I won't, considering it’s hanging from the keychain you got me years ago-- there's always Plan B," she declared, rising from her chair and taking a few steps back to demonstrate her self-defense moves. “Knee to the groin, edge of the palm to the nose, and run away as fast as my legs will let me."

“That’a girl,” Phil replied proudly as he too rose from his seat, wrapping an arm around her shoulders in a one armed hug that the girl returned with both arms around his torso. Then, looking at the flowers that prompted their little heart to heart, the man that played a father figure to the lost gearheads of Edenridge offered, "I don't own a vase but bet your ass we could find something suitable from the junkyard. Wanna play hooky from work for a bit and go scavenging? I won't tell the boss if you won't," he joked.

The curly-haired girl giggled and nodded enthusiastically at her boss. “I will, but there’s something I need to do first…”

A few minutes later, Niles Sinclair’s phone would signal the arrival of a new multimedia message from a number that was not on his contact list. When he opened the text, he was greeted with a photograph of new details added to the drawing he’d made on the card addressed to Kianna. Holding the left side of the to-go cup was a stick figure of a smiling curly-haired girl, while a stick figure of a smiling, shaggy-haired boy held the right side. Under the drawing, in the girl’s own cursive, purple-inked handwriting, was the response the young man had so anxiously been waiting for...

Caroline Sinclair pushed back a strand of her luscious, blonde hair as she held her phone, pointing the camera at her face, on Instagram Live. She sang Flowers by Miley Cyrus and emitted the most positive energy to the camera. The camera being an audience of at least a few hundred people, if not a thousand. Most if not all those who currently attend Edenridge High. The other percentage being the rest of the world, who simply liked the aesthetics she posted, her dancing videos and the motivational energy she gave off. She did a little dance. Obviously in a good mood.

In the background, off in the distance, was her big brother, Niles, cleaning the pool since they hadn’t used it the past month. She knew her siblings could use a moral boost, both sadly getting dumped recently. Was she upset about it? Not really. She knew those two in particular had a lot of self love to work on. As the fairy sister, Carrie decided it was her job to show them they could be happy and content without a lover. It was her sole duty to make sure to keep their minds busy and remind them they don’t need no man. Or woman. Or non-binary person. We don’t discriminate in this house.

For once, in a long time, all the Sinclairs were single. Sure, Niles was single before Cece, but not really, seeing how he hooked up with people in college while wooing the girl that still wasn’t over her ex. He really knew how to choose them. This was a new era for the Sinclair children. They didn’t need anyone to be happy and they would showcase that empowerment so their classmates would gravitate to their party not for love but for fun.

Coming out of the house having prepared spiked lemonade, Autumn came shimmying toward her sister. She placed one on the patio table, handed a glass to her twin and kept one for herself. If there was anyone who was feeling the single vibes, it certainly was her. Today Niles would take them out shopping. One, to buy a new phone for Autumn. Two, for party favors, hand food, and lights galore. And three, for therapy because who doesn’t want nice things when they’re sad?

Turning her phone camera around, Carrie pointed it toward Autie who was feeling herself, taking a sip of lemonade, and swaying to the music, “♫ I can buy myself flowers. Write my name in the sand ♫.” The twins were vibing, getting more and more excited by the minute since their party was just around the corner.

“♫ Talk to myself for hourssss. Say things you don’t understand ♫,” Carrie sang along with her sister, happy to be alive, in the safety of her home and with the comfort of her siblings, no less.

After a brief dance break, Autumn grabbed the phone from Carrie. They both proceeded to prance to their brother, who was shirtless. They knew their friends would drool at the sight. Another way to advertise. Using your brother’s hotness to your advantage. “♫ I can take myself dancing… ♫”

“♫ I can hold my own handdddd! ♫” Carrie chimed in, before going from singing to greeting her brother. “Say hi Niles!” Carrie giggled. Her hand appeared in front of the camera as she waved at her brother. In return, he glared at them as he scooped up the last remaining debris.

“♫ Yeah, I can love me better than you can ♫,” Autumn could be heard in the background as she took a seat on the edge of the pool, lemonade in hand. Sticking her feet in the cold, refreshing water, she took another sip of her drink, observing her brother as he tried to act like the boss man when really, he was doing whatever she and Carrie wanted to make their party amazing. He was a good brother.

Flipping his hair out of his face, knowing he needed to get a trim, Niles looked at them in annoyance, though deep down, there was so much love (he’d never admit it), “Do you want the house to be ready or not?”

“Of course we do, that’s why you’re helping,” Autumn chuckled, playfully kicking water at him.

Niles scoffed, “You call this helping?”

“Come on, big brother, so grumpy all the time. Lighten up and get your groove on,” Carrie and the camera started shaking, clearly showing she was dancing behind it. It caught a smile from Niles; briefly but it was there for their audience to see.

“Oh, btdubs. Some pink lemonade for you on the table,” Autumn offered to Niles. Closing her eyes, determined to not let anything or anyone ruin her day, she continued to hum the song, thinking to herself this is going to be their year.

The show didn’t last because then the instagram video stopped. After a compilation of pictures of Carrie sharing herself, her twin, and their friends, it went to another live stream, a couple hours later. This time the girls were sunbathing, showcasing their bathing suits. Their video focused on their brother mowing the lawn, headsets on, listening to his own music and bobbing his head to likely classic rock jams. “We’re all single, ready to mingle!” Carrie announced, zooming in and out of Niles’ fluffy hair. “And you know the best place to mingle is?”

Slipping the phone from Carrie into her own grasp, putting it in selfie mode, Autie grinned, “At our party, tomorrow, Saturday. 3 PM straight into the evening. You know where our house is. Be there or miss out, your choice. All I’m saying is, this party is going to be the sh—”

“LIT! It’s going to be LIT!” Carrie excitedly exclaimed, speaking over Autie’s cursing, as she leaned in front of the camera, gleaming with the brightest smile. “Oh, oh, oh,” Carrie chirped, giving Autumn no space, practically glued to her twin’s head, “There’s going to be grilled goodies, desserts galore, the pizza ‘special’ and so much more!”

“We don’t only have a pool too,” Autumn winked at the camera, trying her best to not stress over the fact that both her and Niles got royally dumped right before the big bash. It sucked because she wanted to be with Derrick at this party but she knew he was a cheating piece of shit and some things were better off left in the past. Like him, he was better off left six feet under.

“We really hope to see you there! It’s going to be so much fun, and it doesn’t matter what side of town you live on. All are welcomed. So come on over. We’re kind of a big deal with a couple of southies,” Carrie revealed, as she made her party inclusive. She wanted this to be the bash of the CENTURY and that meant inviting all types of people. Southies were cool and she hoped some would attend like Zion. He said he would but would he? Did he just say it for her to get out of his hair?

With one of his headsets out of his ear, he turned to look at his sisters, giving them a suspicious gaze, narrowing his eyes, “What?” If he heard correctly, Caroline just said she and Autumn were kind of a big deal with some southies. Since when?

“GOT TO GOOOOO!” Carrie gave a sly toothy grin and beside her Autumn rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses and leaned back in her seat. Adjusting her slim body, showcasing a wonderful angle of her bikini, boobs and stomach to the phone camera, she inhaled and exhaled. Today was a beautiful day. Hopefully tomorrow will match the sunshine and good vibes too. Only one could hope.

Caroline’s instagram went silent. Approaching dinner, the live stream started up again but this time on Autumn’s new phone and her instagram (Carrie’s socials were tagged though). Holding the phone, the older twin focused in on her bubbly blonde sister, in a snack aisle at Target. With her innate skills of dancing, Carrie blasted Cheerleader, Felix Jaehn Remix from her phone which was in her butt pocket. As Autumn took steps backwards and Carrie moved forward, showing off her own choreography to one of the newer Clover routines, Niles came into the picture, not intentionally. He was looking at a grocery list and putting a few chip bags into their shared cart. Playfully, the infectious happy-go-lucky blonde beauty twirled to her brother, grabbing his free hand.

Niles heavily sighed and spun her around, glancing at the camera and grumbling, “You two have a problem.”

“Do we? We’re just having fun and party prepping,” Autumn snickered, sticking her tongue out at him, knowing if anyone needed things to be lighthearted, it was him. Putting herself in view, keeping a glimpse of the other two in the background, Autie offered to her classmates, “If there’s something you want to see at the party, or want at the party, please message us ASAP! We will do our best to have all kinds of options so everyone is generally happy.”

Knowing Carrie would not leave him alone until he started playing along with her and dancing to the music, Niles could be seen holding Carrie’s hand and doing basic ballroom dance moves. He felt stupid but it was making his sisters smile, which mattered more than how much of an idiot he felt. When his phone vibrated he was quick to release Carrie, his opportunity to end the dance and shop on. Looking at his phone to a text he had been waiting for, all week, Niles couldn’t hide the sudden happiness that flooded inside of him. He got the confirmation he wanted. His mood shifted drastically while the camera view still had him in the background.

She said yes.

Kianna was going to give him a chance.

Fist bumping in victory, he glanced up at his sisters, both watching him like hawks, sharply. He realized the camera was still on him. “Okay that’s enough. Turn that thing off.” While it couldn’t be seen, Autumn had a shit eating grin and Carrie’s expression had gone blank.

Looks like their brother might not be single for long. Hopefully this time around, he was doing this because he wanted the person and not the idea of the person. Still, Carrie sighed. Them being single together for a time, longer than a week, was short lived. She should’ve known better. Niles and Autumn were serial lovers. Even when they are single, while briefly, they need to lean on someone for quiet comfort. Niles had Rye, Autumn had her. Something about them being alone terrified the two and Carrie couldn’t understand why she wasn’t like that. Why did they need someone? Why couldn’t they just love themselves? Why did everyone put so much emphasis on this feeling of ‘love’? Was it love when it was fleeting?

Gesturing for her sister to turn off the live stream, Carrie peered over her shoulder to see the views. A deep sadness sat in the core of her chest as she thought about how lucky her siblings were to have people interested in them constantly. Even if they had no limits, no boundaries, and no expectations, they enjoyed their youth. She envied them because they knew what it felt like to be with someone, in all ways that matters to a person, even if the consequences were a broken heart.

Was she starved for affection? Intimacy? Was she jealous that her siblings always had someone? Even if it wasn’t the best someone, they always had someone. It wasn’t fair. No one would want her in that way. She gave up on her crush on Danny Belmonte a while ago, catching the vibe that he wasn’t interested in females as much anymore. That’s his own business, of course, but she could tell simply by how he held himself that his heart belonged to someone else. Carrie never even kissed a boy or girl. She was about to be a senior and she was falling behind all because she cared about everyone else’s happiness but her own.

“Caroline, you coming?” Niles called out, waiting to turn from the aisle. Autumn was quiet, standing right next to her seemingly always happy twin. Believe it or not, she could feel the envy and pain. She could feel the loneliness that Carrie never spoke out. She could feel everything that her twin bottled up and wished there was a way to help her, but afraid to reveal things that were better left forgotten. Carrie seemed to have forgotten their childhood, before Noella came around and adopted them. Autumn wanted to keep it that way. Instead of calling Carrie out, Autie laced her fingers with hers, patiently waiting for her sister to regain herself.

Shaking the sads out of her mind, Caroline rushed to her brother with her sister in hand, “Yes!”

Niles nodded and turned the aisle, ready to be home already so he could think about her. Smiling to himself, he whispered, “She said yes…”

Saturday would be an eventful day for the Sinclair children.

That goes without saying.

Niles Sinclair was excited.

For the coffee date, not the party.