LovelyComplex

Edenridge

^{Timestamp: Flashback, March 2018, After The Love We Deserve
FT: Niles Sinclair, Penelope James, & Gavriel Shomer
Small FT: Natalia Belmonte @Venus}

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Almost four months now since his attempt and he was finally consistently back at school. Within the first week of his return in early February he was rewarded with a broken right arm because he couldn’t shut his mouth when it came to a couple of asswipes talking about David the Diddler. He snarkily dissed them, bruising their egos, and because he was outnumbered, he got the life squeezed out of him. If it wasn’t for his ex best friend’s goth sister, an unnecessarily hot math teacher, coming into the boy’s bathroom, who knows what else could’ve happened to him. His father was pissed, but his father was always pissed at him. Nothing new there.

Now it was March 15th and he was still wearing an itchy, annoying fucking arm cast. He was pretty sure it was Natalia’s niece’s birthday. Sofia. How old was she? Twelve? Eh, it didn’t matter even if he remembered it or not. Not like he could talk to his ex best friend’s family anyway. She hated him. He broke her heart. And honestly? He deserved it. He deserved her cutting ties with him, acting like they were complete strangers. He deserved being hated. In his head he was alone, and she proved that he was better off on his own, a lone wolf, because without him, she was always meant to shine. Without him, she was happy. Something he never would be.

Closing his locker and putting on his headphones with one hand, feeling eyes on him like he was some kind of freak, Niles blasted Time is Running Out by Muse. An arm cast was the most telling thing when it came to someone’s social circle and as of now, Niles only had five signatures and most were people he considered family. Rye, his sisters, his aunty figure (Wednesday Drake-Davies), and Lexie Davies. Something like this should embarrass him but honestly? He could care less what people thought about him. The fact that he had names meant something, right?

Due to the fact that he walked with a dark cloud above his head all the time, with apathy in his eyes and always having something jackassey to say, it was clear that Niles wasn’t looking for friends. Rarely did people try to talk to him and he was going to make sure they had more of a reason not to. He hated people. Though, he hated himself more. No matter what he tried to do, he was married to his doubts, unable to fit the Edenridge mold. He was the Doctor’s son. The legacy of the Sinclair name and fortune. An absolute terror, fuck up, and an ungrateful little shit that took all his resources for granted. Niles Sinclair was rotten to the core and didn’t deserve to be born a Sinclair. He should’ve died instead of his mother. At least no one would miss him.

Throwing his hoodie on over his headphones with his free hand, Niles ambled in the center of the hall, where students deliberately avoided him like the plague. In the distance he caught sight of Natalia without her girlfriends for once-- a bunch of volleyball girls. Hooking his thumb in his pant’s pocket, he let the music drown out his surroundings, in survival mode: cold and indifferent.

When Niles ended his friends with benefits relationship with Natalia after his suicide attempt things got fucked and it was entirely his fault. He did it to protect her and knew the best way to go about it was telling her he could never fall in love with someone like her. In reality, he knew she was too good for him. Time and time again he brought her down. A heavy burden more so than the crown bestowed to her from Miss Supreme, or whatever the fuck it was, Reagan Ramsey.

He had felt empty for a while now and nothing she said or did could fill his soul with a sense of purpose. He hated making her cry. He always made her cry. After his last attempt, he solidified his belief that this world around him was nothing but noise. While everyone else were paper dolls, cut out perfectly to portray a role in this corrupted society, he was a ghost. Running through time and space as waste, he saw all his peers getting lost in the best of their years. While they had a spark, their smiles full of joy, he was reminded of the fact that he stood alone every time he felt the stinging affliction from his raw cuts. His thighs rubbing against his tight jeans.

When he finally strode past his ex best friend, he did take an instant to glance at her. Emotionless was the ice on a fresh wound. The thread that kept them together completely severed. As much as he wanted it to hurt, he couldn’t feel the pain. All he could feel was his inability to connect with someone he once loved so dearly; bond in a way they had done many times before. And yet time still froze around them, the room faded where it was only him and her. Only them. He hated seeing her happy.

Unbeknownst to the internal turmoil of her former best friend, Natalia continued to pack some of belongings from her locker and into her backpack, listening to Billie Eilish singing about how she was the ‘bad guy’ through her airpods. Her schedule after school was pretty packed these days-- and today wasn’t the exception, so she needed to ensure everything was in order before calling it a day. The familiar sensation of a pair of eyes on her back sent a shiver down her spine, and she turned around just in time to lock stares with Niles Sinclair himself.

A look of disdain quickly fell upon the Belmonte girl’s features. After their breakup before midterms at the end of the previous year, Natalia hadn’t so much as glanced at Niles. Her newfound popularity didn’t erase the heartbreak that she’d suffered at his hand, so she tried to avoid him like the plague since his return to school earlier the month before to better forget about things. Her cold gaze moved from his impassive face to the dark bags under his eyes, his slouched posture, the cast on his arm, and she felt herself unwillingly reacting to the alarming sight.

A flicker of something flashed across her face: remnants of the close bond they had once shared manifesting themselves in the shape of worry. Niles clearly wasn’t doing okay. His whole demeanor was begging to be paid attention to. And Tal wanted to-- God, she desperately wanted to check in on his well-being. But what was the point? He didn’t need her. That much was obvious. She had been with him through thick and thin, and all it had earned her back was to be pushed away and replaced with some annoying, flamboyant stranger who'd forcefully inserted himself in their lives and fed Niles bad advice.

Still, against her better judgment, the girl opened her mouth to say something to him when she heard her name being called out across the hall. By the time she had replied to the caller and turned back to Niles, the young man was already stalking away.

---

Sitting on the stairs of the apartment complex that the Shomer family resided in, having texted his dad a wellness update and that he was indeed not going to be alone for too long, Niles held in his good hand a book that his English partner, and basically cousin (not by blood, but that’s beside the point), Dallas picked out. He had read this book a thousand times but Dal didn’t need to know that. The book they were reading was the one and only Great Expectations by Charles Dickens. Not many people knew Niles was smart, loved to read, and could do most of his work in his sleep. He didn’t do well in school because he didn’t care for it, not because he couldn’t understand it. It all felt like a waste of time and he knew every time a teacher assigned something that he was better than this. Better than the work they gave him. Better than any lesson plan they prepared. Better than school. He hated school. Then again, Niles hated most things. Mr. Beau’s class was his exception because that old man was one of the few people that challenged him and forced him to be humble instead of arrogant.

With his headphones still on, lo-fi gently playing in his ear, not too loud so he could hear if Rye was coming up the stairs, Niles traced the growth of Phillip Pirrip, or Pip, going from a boy with shallow dreams to a man with a code and so much depth. Occasionally, he would read a line out loud before struggling to turn to the next page. Having one hand sucked. No matter, he was determined to finish this book tonight because he promised Dal they’d work on it tomorrow. “In a word, I was too cowardly to do what I knew to be right, as I had been too cowardly to avoid doing what I knew to be wrong.”

“Charles Dickens. Great Expectations.”

With the sudden voice of someone Niles wasn’t used to hearing he glanced up from his book to see Officer James’ daughter with his Jewish best friend. Penelope. Poppy. What was she doing with Rye? Oh, wait. Was that his book partner? Should he have announced he was coming home? Placing the book on his lap, he pulled down his headphones, the struggle was real with one hand, and clumsily asked, “Shit, fuck. How long have you guys been there?”

Rye was staring at his friend, honestly not at all surprised to see him waiting for either him or his ma to return home. It's been more common since Niles got out of the hospital, but the Shomers had always had an open door policy with the Sinclairs. In fact they were the first to be given such an offer, quickly followed by the Phillips family and the Belmontes, and a year ago was extended to the Boaz brothers as well. It was in their hearts to be caring, healing. It was in their hearts to want to fix people's pains, and his ma always said that that was why it hurt so much when they befriended the broken ones. She also said it was why they were drawn to them. He took some time to glance at the girl by his side and couldn't help but mentally scold himself over picking up another.

"Not too long buddy, we just got back from the library," Rye extended his hand out to his friend in or to help him up from the step, bracing one foot against the step in order to keep his smaller body anchored as Niles steadily rose to his feet. "You know Poppy James, right?"

Niles gave a ‘really?’ look at Rye. The James family were pillars in the community just as much the Sinclairs were. Officer James simply chose to stay on the Southside instead of moving up north past Grove Street. Rather than say something snarky, Niles nodded, “Yeah, I know her. We have a couple classes together.” And since they were the same year, they grew up together, going to the only elementary and middle school in the area. The only thing that kept them apart was she was surrounded by a handful of friends and he only had Natalia. It wasn’t like Niles could entertain a friendship with her. Natalia barely could handle his friendship with Rye. “Good to see you outside of class, Penelope.”

“You as well, Niles,” Poppy serenely smiled before waiting to be let in.

“Uh, I guess we should go inside,” Niles grabbed the book from under his cast arm and turned on his heel. While he didn’t expect Rye to bring home a guest, he didn’t mind. Poppy was a sweetheart and he doubted she’d overwhelm him like some other kids did. “So… good times in the library?” He asked to the air, not caring who answered first.

“Yeah,” Rye answered both to the recommendation of moving inside and Niles’ open question. Sure he felt a little stupid after Niles gave him that look, but he knew that the other boy had a habit of forgetting that Rye wasn’t from here. Growing up Rye was in school with almost six hundred kids in his grade alone, he still wasn’t used to the tight-knit communities where everyone at the very least knew about everyone else. And besides, it’s not like he’s ever seen them hanging out. He didn’t need Niles to know about the events at the library, or that he was still a bit keyed up from them. Taking out his keys he opened the door to his and his ma’s apartment and tossed them into the basket by the door, taking the chance while he had his back to both of them to rub tiredly at his eyes. “C’mon in guys. Poppy, make yourself at home.”

Niles had never needed that said to him since the first and only time it had been offered, so Rye knew he would see it for what it was and not take offense that he wasn’t included. Closing the door behind the two, Rye made his way to the kitchen, switching the lights on as he went. He dumped the cold remnants of his drink out of the thermos and rinsed it out, putting it on the drying rack before washing and drying his hands. As he returned to his two guests, the social middleman took his headphones out of his ears and nodded towards the couch.

“We were gonna watch Perks of Being a Wallflower,” He offered to Niles. “It’s not exactly the happiest and it’s loaded with triggers, so we can watch it some other time. I mean, if that’s okay with you too, Poppy.”

“If that’s what you want,” Penelope beamed as she took off her shoes, placed her backpack in the coat closet, and shuffled to the sofa. She didn’t want to impose if either Rye or Niles weren't in the mood for it. She was curious, but she could wait. She could always wait.

“Wait, I don’t mind sad movies. Like are they bad triggers?” Niles blankly stared at his friend as he made his way to the kitchen after Rye had left it. “I mean we also got time, it isn’t like we have to start the movie now. I’m chill regardless.” While Sinclair was usually at the Shomers, his sisters were usually with a babysitter. Eight out of ten times it was Dallas. She liked doing that shit. He did not. Already making himself at home, he offered, “Want something to drink? To snack on? Could fix up some popcorn.”

“I’ll take a water please,” Penelope observed the boys around her, both sons of doctors. Niles was a lot friendlier than she expected, seeing how he was usually always angry or intimidatingly quiet at school. This was… different for her and out of her usual routine; not a bad different. Actually, it was quite nice. Just different. Made her feel strange. Not often did she hangout with people outside of her usual quartet. “And thank you.”

“Oh shit I forgot, I gotta’ do this with one hand…” For a second, Niles had almost forgotten about his broken arm. The itching had stopped and he was distracted with the people that now kept him company. “Gavriel, come hither.”

“At your command, my liege,” Rye played along, following the taller boy into the kitchen and moving around it like a whirlwind, tearing open the plastic before tossing the popcorn bag into the microwave but leaving the door closing and button pressing to Niles. Without breaking stride on his way back from the cup cabinet, three glasses in his arms, Rye ducked under Niles’ outstretched arm and filled the cups from the water filter attached to the tap, setting them down on the counter beside him one by one.

“As for Perks,” He mentioned, returning them back to their original topic as though they had never left it. The popcorn began to pop behind his head as he turned around leaning against the sink and stared up at Nile’s with his arms crossed. “I definitely wouldn’t want Autie and Carebear watching it without any supervision. The actual list of triggers is longer than my arm but up there is rape, childhood sexual assault, suicide, and suicidal ideation. The movie is a bit more subtle about it than the book is.”

“Gotcha,” Niles responded, as he opened the microwave, grabbed the popcorn bag, opened it with one hand and his teeth, and began pouring it into a bowl Rye had set up.

Honesty always worked best for Niles. He, like most people, hated it when you withheld information in some misguided attempt to protect him. Things always went worse when you weren’t up front with him, especially now when some people thought they should be walking on eggshells. He kept his eyes on Niles’ face and lips for his response as he called out to poppy over on the couch, “You want any ice?”

“Yes please,” Poppy politely responded as she observed the two boys from afar. She felt like she was peering into the private lives of two strangers and it was fascinating to her. Both Niles and Rye had this organic chemistry about them. All they did was move around the kitchen and both were on the same wavelength knowing when to move an arm, or grab something for the other. It was as if Niles knew Rye all his life, even though Poppy was pretty sure Rye hadn’t lived in Edenridge for that long. Couple years? She wasn’t sure, but she knew Rye wasn’t native.

“I’ll be fine,” Niles assured, tossing the popcorn bag away. “If I ain’t feeling it, I’ll let you know, how’s that sound?” Grabbing the bowl, wrapping his good arm (the left one) around it, Niles gave a half-smile at his friend before walking away to entertain their guest, “So Pops, I know this is a bit out of the blue,” he gestured for her to grab the bowl, which she did graciously, and continued, “And we’re not really close, and if you don’t want to talk about it just tell me to shut up —” Wow, he really was rambling. There was no sign of her checking out mentally so he probably should get to the point. Taking a seat, he cleared his throat and asked, “—Are you doing okay? I know your sister’s anniversary wasn’t too long ago. And if you want someone to talk to, I’m one hell of a good listener.”

With the popcorn bowl resting on her lap, Penelope was put in a state of shock when Niles brought up Max. He remembered? Someone that had nothing to do with her remembered her sister? There was a brief moment of silence as she tried to gather her thoughts and find the right words to say, to show how appreciative she was for his concern. He didn’t use any generic phrases either, which made this even more shocking for her. Everything he said to her came straight from the heart and she felt that. His concern and his kind heart. “That’s… really sweet of you, Niles. To worry about me. I—” she placed the bowl on the coffee table before shifting her body toward him on the couch and coyly admitted, “I’m trying to be okay, just, um, taking it day by day, y’know?”

“Yeah, I get that. I’ll tell you right here, right now. It doesn’t get easier. You’ll learn to live with the pain, but it’ll always be there. It fucking sucks. Sometimes you just get so numb, and could go weeks without feeling anything. Then suddenly it hits you like a fucking truck. You’re suffocating, drowning, trying to gasp for air because how the hell are you supposed to live to see tomorrow knowing that person isn’t there?” He ran his good hand through his curls, frustrated at the lack of resources for people struggling with mental health issues. Really, there was only his therapist, Shannon Ramsey. She was only one person and could barely keep up with the unfortunate events of this town. Still, he was open to disclose his inner turmoil to his peer, who he realized was a sweet pea. Why didn’t he get to know her sooner?

Ah, that’s right. Natalia.

“Just know, you’re not alone okay? Lean on your support system when you really need it. And something that helps me, which might help you, is thinking of how loved they are. And maybe, if there is an afterlife, they’re up in the sky, looking down at us, watching over us, and dancing. Dancing in the sky… happy. Far happier than they ever were down here.”

Niles’ words shook Poppy to her core. She was so desperate for a companion that understood her, really understood, and coincidentally, she found him in her English partner’s apartment. Her lips quivered and subtly, her hearts trembled. She never felt this way until Maxine died. A feeling of loss so intense that she thought she could actually die. Her chest always felt so tight, and like he said, it felt like she was gasping for air. Trying to breathe. It wasn’t like Maxine moved to the town over, or was traveling the world, where Max went Poppy couldn’t follow and that feeling, the feeling of being left behind killed her.

This boy, with curly hair, tenderness in his eyes, and a small, awkward smile gave her something without trying and without expecting something in return. He gave her a shoulder to lean on, all because he knew how it felt to lose someone so important that a life without them was terrible. The feelings washed over her so fast that she couldn’t help herself. Abruptly, she pulled Niles into a hug, burying her face in his chest. Niles wasn’t put off by this. Instead he held her gently with his good arm, touching the back of her head with his hand. His cast did force distance between them, but he was still able to bring her close and comfort her. As they shared an embrace, he caught a glimpse of Rye watching this scene unfold with a sad but proud smile and watery eyes, having already placed their waters on the coffee table and saved the popcorn bowl from falling off of Poppy’s lap. He did well, it seemed.

After a leisure moment, she inched away but kept her hold on him as she glanced up to see his face, “I’m sorry… this was… probably sudden, huh?”

“Don’t apologize, you needed it,” he whispered, caught in her pretty green eyes. While Natalia’s eyes were full of sparkle, like the stars in the night sky, this girl… her eyes were a hidden forest. Although there was an uncontainable wildness to her soul, he could see streaks of golden hour shifting through the sage branches of the tall trees. He found himself looking deep into nature, getting a clear understanding of the universe all because her spirit reminded him of the woods. Still and full of power. God, they were gorgeous.

Penelope brightly twinkled, grinning from ear to ear, when he told her it was okay. Her smile was blinding because for sad people like him and her, when they smiled it stood out. It was a sight to see. When they smiled, it made you want to laugh a little louder and live a little better. Poppy James was beautiful. He didn’t know if she knew that but she was. Releasing her finally, he asked, “You good?”

“Yeah! Actually, I feel so much better,” Poppy brought her attention from Niles to Rye before apologizing again, “Sorry Rye! I didn’t —”

“You really do apologize too much,” Niles interrupted, leaning back and looking to his friend to take the lead of whatever they were going to do for the rest of the night.

Rye had already cleaned up his face and gotten control over his features by the time Poppy’s attention had turned back to him. It took everything in him to not just continue standing there, beaming at his friend like an idiot because hey, that was a beautiful moment of empathy and emotional interaction with someone outside of Niles’ social circle and Gavriel was damn proud to see the taller boy take such an initiative. Penelope James was now of the very privileged few that got to see past Niles’ antisocial exterior. Rye sincerely hoped that the girl would respect and appreciate the gem she’d just been given just as Rye appreciates that Poppy felt comfortable enough around him to be this vulnerable.

From everything Decky has said, it’s been more than a rough year for Poppy. From everything Rye’s seen of the southside’s Street Angel so far, Decky has a really bad habit of understating things. When he’d walked into the library this evening the girl had looked like she was teetering on her last thread and just resigned to waiting for it to snap. He’d gotten distracted and let his mind wander during their conversation, and in turn he’d unintentionally hurt her even while knowing in the back of his head about the barebones of many of her problems. He could be a shoulder to cry on, he’s got strong ones perfect for bearing the weight of everyone’s worlds, but in the end the family member he lost didn’t die, he left. His father signed the papers and disappeared from Gavriel and Avigail’s lives like the last streak of dark sky before morning. Gavriel can’t relate to this type of pain, and much as it hurts that Niles can, or that Poppy is suffering it at all, he was glad that he was unintentionally the middleman for this meeting of kindred souls.

“Right, so we are definitely going to watch something short and funny first, I don’t care if it’s stand-up or Vine compilations but dear god do we need some laughs up in here, so,” Rye took charge pacing back and forth behind the coffee table like he was a drill sergeant. That bubble of comfort could only stay what it was if they didn’t linger on it, didn’t draw too much attention to the fact that it happened. Rye knew all about embarrassment and getting reminded you were crying into the shirt of a guy you never hang out with while over the house of a guy that screws around with one of your best friends would definitely be up there on the scale. He grabbed the remote and turned on their tv, and when he was satisfied with his choice he flopped backwards onto the couch, reaching over the back of it to grab the knitted blanket and throw it over all their laps. He leaned forward and grabbed one of the waters and the popcorn bowl off the table, handing both over to Poppy before getting his and Niles’ waters, handing the other boy his to put on the side stand next to the arm of the couch. “Perks is queued up to play next but for now we get to hear about the jukebox at the Salt and Pepper Diner. Feel free to grab the remote and add anything you want before the movie.”

It was almost funny, get Decky here and it would be the Baggy Eyed Bed Head club he’d been joking about with Poppy earlier.

“I’ve never watched, so this should be fun,” Poppy replied before taking a sip of her water and placing it back on the table to focus on the popcorn and the tv. “Oh and before I forget, before I leave can I sign your cast, Niles?”

“Yeah, of course,” The boy smiled into his cup, as he too took a sip and returned the glass to the table. “Feel free to use me as a pillow if you’re comfortable enough to do so. This guy over here does it all the time.”

Grinning at his offer, partly wishing Charlie, Decky, and Jade were here, Poppy smirked, “I’ll keep that in mind. It’s almost as if you’re flirting with me, Sinclair!” The comment caused Rye to choke on his water as he laughed, turning the amused noise into a cough as he tried to get ahold of himself.

“Uh,” Niles didn’t know how to respond to that. Her jokes caught him off guard. Was this what it felt like to have more friends outside of Natalia? People he didn’t know the patterns to, and had so much to learn from. Is this what it felt like to have someone outside of Rye? To open himself up to a stranger and try to navigate the social environment of his teenage dirtbag years? Niles felt incredibly warm and genuinely happy on the inside. Something he hadn’t felt in a long while.

“I’m teasing, I cuddle the shit out of my friends alllll the time. We love cuddle puddles in this house,” Poppy giggled.

“We do love that here,” Rye agreed, smiling at them both from his spot on the couch. Fortunately he hadn’t spilled any water on himself during his laughing fit so he had hunkered down against Poppy’s side with the blankets up to his shoulders and his feet tucked under himself. "And everyone needs some good cuddle time, it helps build trust!”

Cuddle time lasted for so long that the credits for the movie had long since ended, and Rye opened bleary eyes to a darkened room filled only with the sound of the other two’s steady breaths. The ringing was filtering back in as awareness returned to him and the boy rubbed tiredly at one eye, the other side of his face still smushed up against Poppy’s left arm. The girl herself was in the spot Rye typically inhabited under Niles left arm, head rested on the taller boy’s shoulder and chest while Niles’ head was cradled by the back of the couch. Slowly and gently so as not to jar the two who were probably getting their first good rest this year, Rye removed himself from the cuddle pile and placed his part of the blanket further up on Poppy’s shoulder.

Grabbing his headphones from the coffee table, Rye moved over to the recliner and sat back down before pulling out his phone and plugging his headphones in. Once he had the music quietly playing in his ears, he pulled up his messages and sent out a text.

To Deck Me Daddy:
Hey dude
I kno u were just over but can you come by again
Poppy passed out watching a movie
And bro
We gotta talk cuz damn she sad

Two minutes later, he had his reply.

From Deck Me Daddy:
Delivery nearby
C u in 10

Rye sighed and looked over at the two people asleep on his couch, under his care and hospitality, and hoped that his talk with Decky when he arrived would maybe bear fruit and Poppy’s eyes would gain some life back to them. Out of the four of them, if one could lose some of the bag under their eyes, he’d consider it a win. It was a bad habit of his, taking on projects without intending to, but how could you look at those green eyes so devoid of hope but full of potential life and not want to help? Poppy needed people, and he and Niles could be people if she wanted, but he was also going to make sure that those she already had were stepping up to the plate a bit more.

One more weight on his shoulders couldn’t hurt, especially with the outcomes adding it could yield.

Edenridge

_{TIMESTAMP: After Meeting the Stargirl & Useful Tools
Introducing: “Chief” Christian Coldwind}

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Penelope needed some time to dissociate. Aponi’s Heart had most of the village inside of it; everyone showing their support for Red Wolf Road. She loved to see such a strong community come together for the young and talented. Even with her mind appreciating the sight, her heart grew uneasy. Not because of her grief. No, this had everything to do with her condition. Her health.

Poppy was quick to pick up on her rapid heartbeat, the heat in her cheeks, and the trembling of her hands. Shannon had recently told her that she no longer suffered from mild agoraphobia, which was what made it hard for her to leave her house, only able to go short distance without problems. In the past month Poppy had gone through leaps and bounds in her healing journey, no longer avoiding situations that could lead to panic attacks. That didn’t mean crowded places, public transport, and the like didn't still make her anxious. They still did, she simply wasn’t crippled to the point where she had to hide.

Being fully cured from an illness did not happen overnight sadly. Although she was trying her damndest for it to go away, she knew she had more work to do. Gratefully so, Poppy no longer suffered from the severe symptoms, like constantly feeling the inability to function or survive without the help of others or the overwhelming dread and anxiety of walking outside. It was only recently that she took small steps forward to being human again.

As she left the bar and stage, leaving Mordechai and Jade to their own devices, she found herself following the path of artwork, from pottery to paintings, the shelves and walls covered with so much beauty. In wonder and awe, she could see that not only was there harmony and oneness of a melting pot of tribes at Blue Hill but also how creative, boundless, and sacred the Native Americans were. Gathering emotional and intellectual insight from each piece, Penelope walked to the back where there was more seating, a bit more private and away from the chaos that surrounded the bar, and stopped at a painting of a woman. In the bottom right corner there was someone’s elegant signature. The artist’s name: Elizabeth Deere.

Observing every detail, every stroke, and every shade, Penelope was captivated, absolutely fixated, on the woman’s beauty. Her soul fire emitted off of the canvas, as if it was captured in still time. Poppy may not have known much of the woman in this painting but whoever Elizabeth was captured her curves of softness, the tenderness of her loving gaze, and her beauty within effortlessly. There was no doubt that this woman had so much love to give, an intelligent, innovative spark, and expressed herself in a way where her arms were wrapped around the world; wrapped around all who love her and those who need love. This might’ve been the most breathtaking woman Penelope ever laid eyes on. If only she could put a name to her face.

“Beautiful isn’t she?”

From behind Poppy, an older but still relatively youthful looking man made his presence known, standing next to the small girl with two glasses in hand. He was tall, he still had a great head of dark hair and he wore black slacks and a black dress shirt to match with a bar towel draped over his left shoulder.

“Her name is Komeha’e but those who knew her used to just call her Ko. I could stand here and tell you that she was a medicine woman, who healed our sick with seeds from the land and ancient tribal incantations passed on to use through our elders, given to them by the Great Spirit.” The man tilted his head as he admired the painting himself, his eyes somewhat glassy and watery. “Buuut that would be a lie. She was a Doctor. Went to school in Ohio, med school after that, came back to the Reservation and opened up her own clinic. On quieter days she taught crafts at the pre-school. She was a good person.”

His words stained with sadness, the older man turned and offered one of the glasses to the green eyed girl. “It’s just soda. You look a little young to be drinking anyway.”

“I try to stay away from booze anyways,” Penelope sincerely replied, graciously grabbing the glass from the older man. Giving him an appreciative smile from the knowledge he bestowed on her, Penelope looked from him to the painting once more, “She really is radiant. Makes me think of moonlight or a warm campfire during a cold winter’s night.” After taking a ginger sip of the sprite the older man handed to her, Penelope introduced herself, oddly enough not as nervous as she usually was when meeting strangers, “I don’t know how often you get visitors but I’m Penelope. Most people call me Poppy, like the flower. It’s nice to meet you…?” She inadvertently requested his name, liking to put names to faces, especially of people who took the time to talk to her.

“Well Poppy like the flower, my parents named me Christian Coldwind some sixty odd years ago but most people here call me Chief…probably because I’m Chief of the tribe but I like to think it’s because they wanted to give me a cool nickname, because I’m cool,” The man who called himself Chief let out a soft little laugh. It was always nice when outsiders came to the Rez because it meant they hadn’t heard all of his tired old Dad jokes. He looked back at the painting that had enamored the newcomer so and took a small sip of his own soda. “She was radiant, she was also an absolute slob. Like man, she would just leave everything everywhere but she always knew where to find stuff. Mad lady.”

There was something about the Chief’s presence that warmed her to her core. His laugh was infectious, his smile beamed light, and his words were nothing but jovial, as he held himself tall, whilst carrying the weight of the world. Her eyes did widen a little when he introduced himself as Chief. What were the chances that on her first night at the Rez she’d meet the Chief of the Blue Hill tribe? Clearly one hundred percent. It was strange how her day gave her more interactions with the village than Charlie’s sister. Mitena and Poppy were able to do small introductions but it was kept short because the native girl had to go back on stage. Strange day, today was. “Do you know her well because you know all your people or was she something more?” Penelope asked, curiosity getting the best of her. Blushing when she realized how frank she was being, the small, youthful brunette was quick to apologize, “Sorry if that’s too forward! I’m just… I like to know things,” she diverted her anxiety straight into her glass, as she took a big gulp of her drink, hoping she wasn’t being rude for asking.

“Don’t apologize,” Chief let out a little chuckle. She was an inquisitive one, this Poppy like the flower. He took another drink from his glass before a smile crossed his face. “I do like to think I know most of not all of my people well but Ko? Well I’m pretty sure I knew her well. We were married for thirty five years.” Christian’s face softened slightly as if washed over by a memory. “She passed away a little while ago, probably for the best though,” He returned to his jovial self as he motioned with the hand that he held his glass into the stage. “You see the little one playing bass with a bad attitude? Our granddaughter, Ryan. Ko would lose her mind if she had seen what she’s done to her hair!”

Chuckling at his dramatics, Poppy brought her attention to the stage, like she had many times this night and rested her green eyes on Ryan. So far everyone at this Rez was so appealing, it was maddening. Ryan rocked her look even if it was unconventional for a native girl. Hair was sacred in most Native American tribes, and other cultures like Chinese. In many tribes it’s believed a person’s long hair represents a strong cultural identity. It promotes self esteem, self respect, and a sense of belonging. For the Chinese, Confucian values decreed that hair was to be kept long because it was a gift from one’s parents. Young women used to wear their hair down to show that they were unmarried. Similar to the natives, it was a sense of identity, but it also reflected status, religion, and political stand depending on hairstyle. “Everyone here is so pretty,” Poppy admitted while pushing her hair back behind her ear. “Pretty and nice.”

“I put fairy dust in the water…or is it peyote? I don’t know, they both look exactly the same,” Chief chuckled to himself. It was so refreshing to have someone come to the Reservation and just enjoy themselves and someone who was also interested in their culture. One of the things that truly annoyed Christian was just how basic the world's understanding of them really was.

Clearing her throat, she thought out loud, finding herself more and more comfortable with this man by the minute. She felt like she was with Mr. Beau, which made it so easy to open up to him. “My friends and I came from Edenridge. I love the people, not everyone is out for themselves, but it’s drowning in tragedy and heartbreak. I feel like.. we take for granted the land that clearly wasn’t our’s to begin with, and here you are, and this amazing village you helped build and raise, this strong village you lead everyday, and all I can see is beauty. Amidst all the hardships and lack of resources, there’s support in every corner. So much love. It’s admirable, really.” She glanced up at him, putting her heart on her sleeves and trusting this stranger with her thoughts and with her feelings. There was something about this village that helped cleanse her soul and give her more clarity on her purpose. She didn’t know what it was yet or why even she was thinking these things, but whatever it was gave her a place in this world. A purpose. She saw something worth aspiring to. She saw good people that made her want to see into tomorrow. She saw something past Charlie. For once, she saw something for herself.

“You’re very sweet and very wise, Penelope,” Chief smiled at the girl with the green eyes. She came from Edenridge and obviously knew bits about their history. He had visited that place a few times over the years and the way the founders had painted their tribe as savages, it was a false history. Glancing at the corner of the small child’s bag, he noted a very familiar bit of paper sticking out and his smile turned into a grin. “I see you managed to meet Forrest,” He gestured to her backpack. “You’ll want to eat that soon. He’s very talented.”

“Oh yes! I ate one already,” Poppy matched his grin before bashfully scratching her head, recalling her moment with the reservation dog. “He helped me out of a… moment. Only recently I’ve been able to function really,” she honestly admitted. Placing her glass down on the nearby table, she tugged at her leather jacket sleeves. Charlie’s jacket really did look silly on her. He was so tall and she was incredibly tiny and yet, she wore it out of comfort. It made her feel safe. She wore it because it felt like any day now he’d come visit and collect it saying something like, ‘If you give me my coat back I will buy you a lifetime's supply of bagels' …or at least two days worth then I might forget.’ It was bittersweet what brought her here. If only she had known about the reservation sooner… “I hope I didn’t overwhelm him. I’m kind of a mess.”

“Aren’t we all?” Christian said confidently. “Plus I’ve known that boy since the day he was born. I’ve never seen him anything but welmed. Though that could be down to the fact he grew up on a pot farm, I really don’t know….Anyway!” The Chief polished off his drink and placed it onto a table before drying his hands off with the towel he had situated over his shoulder. He looked at Poppy with warmth in his eyes before pointing out the rest of the plaques and artwork on the wall.

“There’s a lot here to explore if you’re really interested. Not only will you see ancient history, like the story of Aponi’s Heart by the entrance but you’ll also find modern tales too. Over there you’ll find the story of our very own lighthorsewoman Fallon and how she lost her hearing in Iraq.” He pointed out multiple displays for the offcomers to view. “That one over there talks about my brother Big Bear and his first journey out to sea. And that one over there is a sordid tale about last month's Great Reservation Bake Off!”

Just when she was beginning to fall, Chief was able to pick her up. “I want to know as much as you’re willing to tell me, Chief!” She perked up, making her way beside him and looking in every direction he pointed to. She really was a sucker for history and for as long as she could remember, she took a strong interest in educating herself on Indigenous people. Originally, she fell in love with the teachings of the Native people because of Charlie but as she found herself more alone than not, she had all the time to keep herself busy and read.

Overtime, she became passionate about their heritage and wanted to do her best to respect it, and their land. There were over 550 tribal affiliations in the US, which meant they were extremely diverse, with different languages and cultural customs, so it was imperative she did her research and that when she did come across a Native that she made sure his or her voice was amplified. As a white person with privilege, it was the least she could do. “The world is my oyster and I, Poppy, want to find pearls,” she happily sang before following him wherever he went.

“Oh we don’t serve oysters here, too bougie. Best I can offer is a burger and some fries,” Chief Coldwind let out a hearty laugh at the young stranger’s excitability. It had been so long since anyone had shown such an interest in their history, though that was likely due to the fact that visitors were few and far between. “I guess we better get you another soda if I’m going to be your teacher for the night, Poppy like the flower.” Taking a step aside, the older gent pointed towards the bar. As she stepped in front of him, he noticed a patch on the back of her oversized jacket. He hadn’t noticed it before when they were talking.

Decker-Strongbow.

She did say she was from Edenridge. Could it be that she was there not to learn about history but to forget her own? The Chief knew whose jacket that was but he wasn’t going to say a word about it.

Past is past and all we can do is learn from it.

“Okay, where to first?”

Edenridge

_{TIMESTAMP: A couple hours after Yours
Late Monday Night}

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It was somewhat surprising how many people were in the mood for coffee and pastry when there was a hurricane going on.

Beau had lived in Edenridge for a long time with Colleen now and he had experienced this type of storm a handful of times. She had a habit of saying that this was a cleansing that happened once a year, to help purge evil and wash away tainted soil from a cursed ground. He was happy she never dragged him to church on Sundays. The things he’d seen and done, he’d burn up before he even got through the door. She had been born and raised in Edenridge before she had found her way to New Orleans and into the arms of a near destitute Homicide Detective so she knew her stuff. Colleen called him from New York about an hour ago to let him know she was safe and that their daughter Genevieve would call him after her show. One day he would get there but for now, he was needed elsewhere.

It was late now and the custom had more or less died off. Antoine couldn’t help but look outside and be reminded of Katrina and the destruction it raught in its wake. He was lucky that most of his life survived the hurricane but he knew a lot who were not as lucky and who had lost everything. Looking out across his shop at the few customers he had, Beau took a sip from his own drink. Ricky Osso was sitting in the corner booth with his dog snoring loudly enough to hear from across the room. Though that didn’t bother the girl with the headphones sitting on the other side of the room as she slowly sipped her fifth black coffee whilst scribbling away in some book.

Strange kid.

Pushing his reading glasses back up his nose, Beau returned his attention to his own book. As he began to scan the words again, the bell above the door rang out. God, who would be out and about in this monstrosity? Lifting his gaze upwards, he smiled his big toothy grin at a former student. “Mister Sinclair, so good to see you but boy what are you doing dragging your ass through that storm? My coffee ain’t that good.”

“Good question,” Niles replied, taking off his black helmet. After dinner at the Phillips-Shomer house he had visited the hospital to deliver food to Avigail and her coworkers, like his dad. With it being July, it was almost Tisha B'Av which meant Rye’s family were fasting mostly and remembering the multiple tragedies in Jewish history. There wasn’t a specific dish that needed to be made so JP’s mom, Robyn, who was taught an assortment of dishes of her wife’s culture, decided on something simple. Today’s dinner choice was matzoball soup with a side of latkes, and for dessert, she made Rugelach. Niles had spent hours talking to his Auntie not by blood but by bond, Wednesday Davies-Drake, that he lost track of time. He had told his dad he was going straight home but that was a lie. He didn’t know why but he wanted to see Mr. Beau so here he was, in the heart of the storm, visiting a cafe that was the heart of Edenridge.

With leftover Rugelach that he originally was going to give to his sisters, Niles strided to the counter, placed his helmet on top of it, and opened his backpack. Taking a tupperware out with Jewish delight inside, Niles placed it on the table and slid the dessert to his former English teacher, “I guess a little rain didn’t hurt anyone,” he smirked, that mischievous smirk that Beau knew all too well. Glancing around to see who else was in the room, his gaze went from the youngest Osso that hung out with Natalia’s niece all the time to… staring for a little too long, Niles found himself caught in a spider web with a black widow. Turning his head back to Beau, and immediately doing a double take, he tried to put a name to her face. She looked familiar… She definitely went to Edenridge High when he was attending but he couldn't figure out her name for the life of him. She was hot.

Stop. Niles turned back to Beau once more, internally scolding himself. He had a girlfriend. Sure, at this point, he was searching for reasons to still like Caitlin who was way too complacent and obedient for his liking but that doesn’t change that he chose to be with her. He had to do better and that meant no wandering eyes. See, Niles loved being the dominant one, but Cece was turning out to be a doormat and that was not enjoyable at all. “For you,” Niles glanced down at the Rugelach then back at Beau.

“Well thank you son,” Beau took the box away from the boy and placed it under the counter. “I know what I’m having when I get home tonight…if I get home tonight.” The weather warning had all but washed out most roads and Antoine knew better than to venture out in horrifying conditions. He had seen too much in his time in the force and one was people chancing rain thinking they’re good enough to beat mother nature's grace. “You really shouldn’t be out in this.” Niles was always a bright student, if anything he and Decker had a lot of similar thoughts, Beau could see that in their writings but somewhere along the tree, their branches split. “Especially on that death trap,” the older man motioned to the motorbike now parked outside his cafe. “So what can I do you for? Coffee? Tumeric latte? Pepsi?”

“An iced apple crisp oatmilk macchiato,” Niles auto-responded, like this was the only drink he ever got when he did visit the cafe. Taking a seat, he drummed on the counter with his two pointer fingers, trying to figure out the why he wanted to be with Mr. Beau during a monsoon level storm. Was it something his father said that got him thinking? Was it the way Wednesday looked at his father with clear frustrations (even if she tried well to hide it)? For most of the night Hector Sinclair was locked up in his office. He didn’t even see Niles until his son was about to leave. When they did talk and his father told him to go straight home, he caught the scent of a perfume that didn’t belong to anyone Niles was familiar with. A scent of a woman that wasn’t his mom’s.

Niles sat there thinking, thinking why now out of all other times. Was he visiting Beau because he thought his dad was fucking someone in his office and now he was revisiting the past? Was he visiting Beau because time and time again in highschool Beau was the only person to give him a peace of mind when Niles had no one else to go to? Was he visiting Beau because he saw a mirror of the man he could become in his father and he didn’t want to become that man? Was he visiting Beau because he knew he wasn’t doing okay, not really, he was just good at playing pretend? He didn’t know why but he knew he needed this. He was here seeking something and part of him hoped that this something was exactly what the doctor prescribed. A reset so he could focus on being a better man. A man his mother would be proud of.

“I got a lot on my mind.”

Beau got to work on his young charges order and his mind drifted across the years to all the faces of students gone by that he had helped. Some he had helped more than others, less fortunate, the downtrodden. Niles was a completely different beast. He came from money, his family held power yet he was just as broken and as deeply flawed as any Southsider. He was the perfect example of how blurred the lines of Edenridge really could be.

“On the house,” Placing the glass in front of the forlorn boy's face, Beau placed his elbows on the counter and balled his hands into fists before he rested his head on the newly formed pedestal. “Well everybody's got a secret, son. Something that they just can't face. Some folks spend their whole lives trying to keep it. They carry it with them every step that they take.” He recited as the lightning flashed around them.

Taking the drink his mother used to order religiously, Niles grimaced at how sweet it was. He hated sweet things but he needed comfort. Intently, he listened to his teacher. Always the sage Mr. Beau was. “Yeah, I know,” the doctor’s son sharply responded. There was no ill intent behind Niles’ curt voice. That was simply how he talked most of the time. “This town is littered with secrets. It’s what keeps this place interesting, I guess.” Momentarily, he stared into his drink, brooding on the letters being distributed lately. Today there was a new set of letters but he didn’t care enough to read them. He heard what they were about but he just wasn’t interested in knowing more. He never knew David O'Hara like that nor was it his place to know the details of how his life tragically ended. It wasn’t any of his business. Neither was Allison’s OD. While tragic, it still wasn’t any of his business. Ghosts deserved to be laid to rest. This town sucked at leaving the dead: dead. Clearly not ready to talk about what weighed heavy on his heart, he brought his attention to the book, “What’s today’s read?”

Before Beau could respond, the duo were interrupted by the sudden arrival at the counter top of the gothic beauty that had caught Niles’ eye when he entered the building. She placed her black painted fingers on the Doctor’s son's shoulder as she slid the proprietor of the place a ten dollar bill. “You realize that the old man just quoted Bruce Springsteen to you right? Darkness on the Edge of Town? Absolute fucking moron,” She spoke bluntly and with an edge before turning her dark eyes to face Beau. “Thanks for the company today, I’ll see you around the same time tomorrow.” Her voice had shifted into something resembling sweetness but the underlying menace was still dripping with every word. The widow patted Niles on top of the head like a good boy and hurried out of the shop with a whirl of swift blackness.

“I don’t know whether to be turned on or terrified!” Little Ricky called from the corner booth.

Beau rolled his eyes. Fucking kids today. “I’m reading Uncle Tom’s Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe….come to think of it I’m pretty sure you still owe me a book report on this?” The older man cocked his eyebrow.

Jesus. Who died and made her Queen Bitch? Niles rolled his eyes as she left the building, immediately finding her unattractive. After Niles graduated, he had his mind set on becoming a doctor, but even then it wasn’t like he was a walking encyclopedia of quotes. Not like Charlie was. Niles could pick up on chords and beats from musicians like Van Halen, Led Zeppelin, and Metallica but ask him to remember lyrics especially from a musician like Springsteen, who he only listened to when Beau was playing it in the background, then no. It wasn’t going to happen. With selective memory, Niles chose to remember his environment and moments with the people in his life. Not quotes from a song he hadn’t listened to in years. Plus, he had to leave room in his brain for medical practices and shit.

Fuck, he was annoyed now. “Yeah, not gonna’ happen,” Niles grumbled as he put his drink to his lips, trying to let the apple crisp drink soothe his soul. “We both know I barely did any of my homework junior year. The fact that I was even able to make it to class was a fucking miracle.”

Beau took off his reading glasses and placed them down on the open book. It seemed that being playful was not the way to go to break through to Mister Sinclair on this particular midsummer's eve. “You’re right, we both know that. I covered your pasty ass for a year with the other teachers to make sure you actually progressed rather than get held back.” Pushing himself up from the counter to stand a bit more vertical, the former English teacher reached for his own piping hot coffee. “Any time any of the other teachers got on your case, I would be right there. No Niles is just going through some shit right now but he’ll be ok. He’s got too big a mind, too strong a will to let whatever this is beat him. He doesn’t always do the right thing but I know he wants to.”

Lifting the coffee to his lips, Beau did not take his eyes off of Niles as he drank the piping hot liquid tar. With a gasp from the refreshing roast, Antoine leaned back against the cabinet. “You gonna tell me what this is all about? Or do I have to start quoting Fall Out Guy next?”

“Fall Out Boy,” Niles corrected before subconsciously tapping his finger on his glass mug. The doctor’s son was quiet for a moment digesting Beau’s words and how there were countless times his English professor got him out of bullshit and lessened the blow that his father would inevitably give to him. He didn’t understand why someone like Mr. Beau even existed. Men like him were too good for this world. Edenridge didn’t deserve people like Mr. Beau. “Why?” Niles peered up from looking at his coffee, his green eyes locked on the older man’s dark brown and stern gaze. “What do you even see in me? And I don’t mean this mask I wear because I have something to prove to my dad. No, I mean the kid you watched grow up who was nothing but an asshole to everyone.”

Niles should be grateful for the life he was born into, but there was nothing fulfilling from having money. There was nothing fulfilling from having your life planned out by someone else. There was nothing fulfilling from having a home when it felt barren, lacking the most important thing to keep it full and whole. A mother’s love. To this day, he was still gripping on reasons to live and he hated that pessimistic side in him. He thought he had buried it when Charlie held a gun to him but he was realizing you can kill a man, but you can’t kill an idea.

Charlie Decker as fucked up as he was, Niles could relate. The pain of this town failing you, regardless of what side of the tracks you were born on, Niles could relate. Charlie did the one thing that made sense to him at the time and paid it forward. All the hurt this town caused him, all he did was give them what they deserved. Death was a kindness and some people, like himself, were better off dead. Niles, as much as he shouldn’t justify Charlie’s actions, understood him better than he’d ever like to admit. They just got addicted to different poisons. One chose drugs, the other chose self harm. Both in the end accepted the pain they believed they deserved - they just went about it differently. Charlie allowed his demon to pilot, Niles hid his demon behind a lab coat, a focused pursuit, and a charming smile.

“Mister Sinclair,” Beau sighed as he put his Best Teacher Mug back onto the bar top. “I see in you what I see in all my students: potential. Now you may be an asshole and no doubt you have done some pretty unsavory things that I darent venture a guess what they are but let me tell you something.” Reaching out, the old man put his hand on Niles’ shoulder, firm and father-like. “I have seen evil. I have seen mothers murder sons. I have seen rape victims, burn victims, little girls locked in cages yet I have not given up hope. I myself am no saint. Every time I turn around, that darkness on the edge of town that the Boss himself sang about, it creeps closer and closer and the only thing that can stop something like that? Potential. Which is why I mold minds. It is why I give you the tools not to do good in this world but to do well. Do well, Mister Sinclair.”

Mr. Beau had rested his hand on Niles left shoulder, same as the gothic bitch did. A place that wasn’t too far off from his scar. The area that reminded him why he was still alive, why he had to keep preserving even if most days he wanted to rage quit, and why most things in life were out of his control. What he did have control over was his potential as Beau put it. That would be what got him through the nights where all he could do was loath everyone and everything, especially himself. “What does that even mean? To do well?”

There was a brief moment where something eased into Niles’ mind. He snapped his finger deliberately, as he thought out loud, “What was it from Death in the Afternoon by Ernest Hemingway?” He focused on his teacher who looked at him with intrigue, concern, but most importantly, care. Niles recited the quote, “So far, about morals, I know only that what is moral is what you feel good after and… what is immoral is what you feel bad after.” He paused for a moment, having not thought about his highschool readings in a long while, but for some reason that quote, out of all quotes, decided to chime in his mind like an alarm. “Is that all I got to determine how to be the best me? What makes me feel good? That doesn’t give me much to go off of because some people feel great beating women, choking a person to death, slandering a boy’s name, who was once loved by this goddamn town. Do well, you say. Who’s there to judge?”

“Thine own judge be thyself,” Beau took a step back and crossed his large arms. The melancholy and sadness he had seen before in Niles. It hung around the boy like one of the dark clouds outside. “There is no such thing as a wholly good person, Niles. You are gifted in many ways, wealth, intelligence, wit and skill. All of these tools can be used to do what is perceived as good. Yet we as a society no longer live in black or white, heroes and villains, good versus evil. Is it not out of the realm of possibility that a so-called good person can commit an evil act if it is done with good intention? Is it so not the case in the reverse? When I say do well, I say it not knowing what kind of man you are going to grow into being. Though what I do know is that whatever path you choose, you will do well. Every darkness has a name. It’s up to you, whether it’s yours. A man must have a code.”

With furrowed eyebrows, Niles rubbed his temples, nodding in understanding but realizing this somehow turned into an English lesson. He was appreciative for the advice, as he usually was when Beau brought hard truths to the table. At the same time, it was too late for this shit. Glancing at his wrist watch, Niles took note of the time, before looking back at his teacher, “This is worse than pre-med courses,” Niles jokingly chuckled. “I came here to think, and boy did you give me enough food for thought to last me a week.”

Finishing his coffee, Niles stood up, threw his backpack over his shoulder, and grabbed his helmet, “I should get going. Yeah I know, I shouldn’t go out, but sleeping in my bed is a far better option than sleeping in one of these booths. No offense.” Running his hand through his hair, Niles observed the older man and gave a genuine smile, far softer than Niles’ usual demeanor, “Thanks. Sorry this started off weird. I’m not the best at expressing my issues. I will say: I needed to hear that.” It was good to know that Niles still had time to redeem himself, using all the things he gained throughout the years to do well. He needed a code. All men had a code.

What was his?

Off the top of his head he could think of three. One, Niles needed to stop making excuses and work hard to defend the ideas and people he loved. Two, he needed to take responsibility for his actions and be honest to people with who he was. Full transparency regardless if in the end it burned him, at least he wasn’t pretending to be someone he didn’t want to be. And three, he needed to believe in himself more and admit when he was wrong, when he wasn’t perfect, when he didn’t know how to deal because he was stuck. Stuck in a dark place.

Niles lived a calculated life, curating it to seem like he had all his ducks in a row. He was dishonest to others and he was dishonest to himself. He shouldn’t have to resort to scheming to feel good. He shouldn’t have to toy with women’s hearts just because he was a coward and didn’t want to admit that he was a vulnerable, fucked up piece of work. That he was afraid they’d replace his mother. That he was afraid they wouldn’t love him for him, all the bad and good combined. Girls fell for his potential but not the boy he was. Well, Natalia loved that boy but Niles knew, any other time, and maybe another life, she would’ve been perfect for him but as long as he was struggling with his own dark cloud, she would never be meant for him. Not really. His theory was proven when he let her go. She was able to soar, leaving him behind while she stepped into the light. She was free and unapologetically Natalia. His best friend. She was all that and more, and that was all thanks to him releasing her and allowing her to breathe. Taking away a pain that was killing her every single day.

As Dwight Moody once said: Character is what you are in the dark.

Perhaps this was Mr. Beau’s way of telling Niles to come out into the light. Not show the man he was going to become, because even Niles didn’t know that, but a reflection of him on the inside. Who he was at the moment. Someone so imperfect who so desperately needed to do well or he’d drown. Just like David O’Hara did. Someone so imperfect that he needed to find a distraction, unable to process the reality of the world. Just like Allison Davies did. Or someone so imperfect that he’d kill and be killed, unable to see beyond the pain, choosing to take matters into his own hands. Just like Charlie Decker did.

“You’re gonna be fine, Mister Sinclair,” Beau glanced out at the weather, it seemed to be slowing down for the moment. He knew he couldn’t stop Niles from leaving. All he could really do was let him know that he would always be there and always leave a light on for the kids of Edenridge. “If you’re gonna go, better go now before it starts heavy again.” Reaching below the counter, Antoine pulled out the dessert that his former student had brought to him as an act of kindness. He would save it for when his Colleen was home. No doubt she would love it.

“Take care Niles and thank you.”

“No, thank you! Catch you later Mr. Beau and stay safe. You too, kid,” and with that, Niles walked into the night, venturing into the dark, like he always did.

Time and time again.

Edenridge

_{TIMESTAMP: Flashback, Sophomore Year
FT. Penelope James, Charlie Decker & Rhonda Decker}

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____________________________________________________________________

The time was 1 AM. Penelope laid alone staring up at her ceiling, listening to the soothing rain and watching the shadow of her hand gingerly sway around, sheltered by the moonlight cast. Her mind drifted in and out, thinking of a time when life was simpler. High school changed everything for her and her friends. Or to be more exact, the party that Allison died at changed everything.

They were still tight as thieves, maybe not through their openness with being vulnerable to one another, but if something happened, they’d all drop everything for each other, without hesitation. She hoped that part would never change. What she could feel was the growing distance. There was always the ashes in her necklace that were once her sister as an option to rant to but she was still trying to accept the fact that Maxine James was dead. And now? All her friends were moving on, growing up.

Penelope could feel them drifting further and further away toward their own island while they left her behind in the land of make-believe. Their land where they were happy, young, and dumb. When they were children. Mordechai was falling deeper into the serpent world, Jade was finding her stride at school, making an assortment of friends, which meant both had little to no time for her, and Charlie… he was constantly stuck between a rock and a hard place, forcing himself to be alone in his head, living silently inside.

She could feel it all and was constantly left in a state of bewilderment. Her dad would never let her be out too late past curfew unless it was a party and he knew what time she’d be home. The only place she was permitted to go at any time was Rhonda’s. Her mom texted her often and drove her to and from everywhere, out of fear she’d end the same way her sister did. Through suicide. At least that’s what the death record says. Somehow, all those she trusted with her whole heart believed she couldn’t take care of herself beyond these walls she called home. Most nights she hated this feeling. The feeling of being a placeholder in everyone’s lives. Someone just there and in the way. She hated not belonging. She hated feeling useless.

Turning her body around, Poppy reached for her phone and opened her text thread with Charlie. He still hadn’t told her he was home. That’s part of the reason why she hadn’t fallen asleep yet. She was waiting for him to know that he was safe. She did this often and most of the time, he’d either come over or text her he was home. They’d talk for a little and then they’d say their goodnights. They had a routine. She was getting anxious because it was getting later than usual. That and he hadn’t texted her much all day. He at least checked up on her once. Not today. She was nervous. This reminded her of all the times she and her sister were worried that instead of Sly coming home it would be one of his brothers-in-arms bearing bad news. Your father didn’t make it out alive tonight. While she still had this concern, her energy was becoming more and more focused on Charlie, who she knew needed a win, lest he give up, being swallowed by excessive grief, falling apart from the inside out.

With a sudden sound coming from the room parallel to hers, in the house over, Penelope finally got the signal she needed to let relief wash over her. Let Down by Radiohead was playing from Charlie’s record player. Getting up with her phone, she went to the window to look out for him. The curtains were closed which caused her to frown. Glancing from his window to her phone, she texted: Hi, Choo Choo Charlie! You okay? I missed you!

Charlie faceplanted onto his bed, his long arms hanging over each side. It has been a day. Between the usual rantings of the teachers telling him that his grades were slipping and his fellow classmates making their usual snide remarks about him being a murderer, he found time to almost spend with his friends, almost.

When school let out Charlie was straight on the corner, slinging ReyRey’s latest batch of Blue Hill products. It all started fine, hell Charlie even managed to square himself a blunt when Natalia Belmonte swung by Haze street for a puff. She was becoming much more of a recurring customer than he expected and more than that she was starting to become a friend. Charlie had hoped to finish early so he could make up some lost time with Poppy but the Kingsnake had a request of the Carlisle Street boy and it involved sending him to unfamiliar territory.

Borrowing a push bike, Charlie rode out to the infamous Rose Motel for a deal. He had grown up on stories of monsters and magic emanating from its decrepit domain. This wasn’t a typical deal for Charlie Jay. He was the premier weed seller in Eden but this time, ReyRey had him selling heroin, the first time he had ever done so. Needless to say, the deal went massively south and the young boy narrowly avoided getting his head blown off by a crackhead with a gun. Still, he got away with the money which made R2 happy. After taking his cut, Charlie crept into his home and placed it in his mother’s money jar, a routine he always did and went straight to his room.

He reached out to his phone which he had dropped on the floor when he hit the mattress and read the message from Poppy. Shitsticks! He had forgotten to message her. God he really hated this job but it was helping out his Mom, that’s all he really wanted to do. Flipping over to his back, Charlie quickly typed a response: Hey! Sorry work was crazy. Missed you too!

There was no response from Penelope. Not immediately. After a few minutes of silence, one who didn’t know her well would assume she had fallen asleep. Charlie knew her like the back of his hand. With his music covering up the sound, there was a faint noise of his front door being opened and closed, a little rustle downstairs, and small steps making their way to his bedroom. From outside, Penelope stood by his door, her hair damp from the rain but her pajamas dry, thanks to her raincoat. She had hung up her coat and taken off her shoes before making her way to Charlie’s room. She was now just wearing her black shorts, a big murder apparel shirt that said True Crime and Chill, and her father’s Edenridge police academy hoodie. Over her shoulder, her backpack hung.

Knock, knock.

This was her warning that she was coming in. Quietly, she cracked open the door and loudly whispered, “Are you decent?”

“He just got home, he's decent sweetie!” Rhonda had listened to this game being played by her baby boy and the neighbor girl for so many years now. She knew that Penelope was coming through her front door even before the young James for herself did. Ronnie was comfortable with it. She spent so much time living in darkness now but rather than dwell on that fact she came to appreciate all the things that she could hear, that she could smell and taste. None of which were limited to physical sensation. Rhonda knew that love was no longer on the cards for her, who could love a blind single mom with a son who sold drugs to keep the lights on? None of that mattered because it didn’t take clear eyes to see that Charlie and Pops were soulmates and Ronnie was going to encourage that love wholeheartedly. “When you go home in the morning, tell your Dad thanks for the old vinyls he got from Mr Ramsey! Night kids!”

“Night mama, I will,” Poppy watched Ronnie disappear into her bedroom with a warm smile on her face. Even with all her struggles, Ronnie was a rock on this street, in this town, and for her family. Poppy’s mom came by to check on her often but really, Pops knew that her mother needed Ronnie more than Ronnie needed her. For someone who experienced many hardships, from her boyfriend committing suicide to going blind, Rhonda Decker never succumbed to her inner demons. She continued to lift spirits up and give people the support they needed. The woman that raised her Charlie was a testimony of survival and perseverance and Penelope adored her. Penelope aspired to be just like her one day. A lover, a fighter, and a badass machine. Without a doubt, Penelope considered Rhonda as one of her role models. Her other ones would be her father and Mr. Beau. All who were pillars in the Edenridge community.

“Night Mom!” Charlie called back. Springing to his feet and in a single movement, he had made his way to the door. “Hi,” He helped open the door and stood to the side to let the young girl into the room before closing the door behind her. He didn’t need his Mom to hear his records playing, she needed her rest. Charlie peeled off his Serpent jacket and hung it off the back of the bedroom door before kicking off his Doc Martens. “How was your day?” He asked as he made his way back into the bed.

Penelope shrugged as she shuffled to Charlie’s desk, placing her bag on top of his chair and took out her large binder, “Uneventful,” she muttered. Opening up the binder, shuffling through it to get to her history notes, she continued, “Got to hang out with Danny at the library for a little and treated him to some ice cream. Other than that? Same-o. Same-o.” Placing the opened binder on his desk to her extensive notes, color coded, with key words bolded, she pulled her backpack off his seat and crossed her arms, “We’re probs going to have a pop quiz tomorrow in Mr. Hargreaves class. Were you able to do any homework? You can copy my maths. Though no promises that I got the answers right. Math is not my forte.”

“I…..yeah I haven’t even started it,” Charlie lamented. His role as a Serpent had pretty much eaten up his free time. Where a normal fifteen year old would be hanging out with his friends or studying, Charlie Jay was running from the cops and clients, selling ReyRey’s gear and trying to make sure that he and his Mom had a roof over their heads for another month. Charlie reached under the bed and pulled out a box of books. He began to rifle through looking any with a blank page which was insanely difficult considering the young indigenous boy’s penchant for journaling every thought. Finally finding one, Charlie sat up on the bed and took a pen from the bedside table, yawning wildly as he did. He hadn’t slept properly in days. “So, what are we learning about again?”

“We’re still in the early 1600s, our most recent chapter was about the peace treaty between the Wampanoag Indians and the Pilgrims, and just the overall establishment of the Plymouth colony…” Penelope’s voice trailed off as she carefully watched Charlie. He looked awfully tired, exhaustion emitting from his very being. This was becoming more of a common occurrence than she would like to admit. Ever since Allison died, sleepless nights were almost a habit for her friend.

“Aah the Wampanoag! My people!” The Wampanoag were the original settlers in the place that stood before Edenridge. Many of them had died out and it was very much a lesser known tribe in modern times. The only real Wampanoag that Charlie knew personally was his half sister and that girl Topanga and her family who lived in Eastbrook. “You damn whities!” he shook his fist in false anger.

Smiling at his joke, but still concerned at the little details she could see, like the bags under his eyes, Penelope made her way to his bed. Sitting beside him, seeing right through his humor, Penelope frowned and gently traced the back of her finger against his cheek, “You haven’t been sleeping lately. I can see it. I can feel it.” Her frown turned into a deep pout, clearly concerned for his well-being, “We can do homework in the morning before school, but maybe you should get some rest?” She removed her hand from his face, interlocked her fingers together, and laid them on her lap. She loved this boy and it hurt seeing him kill himself to take care of his family.

Once upon a time, Charlie would do honest jobs for people on the southside, like mowing her father’s lawn, but that didn’t pay nearly enough and he refused to take handouts. He drowned himself in serpent activity because that to him was the best solution. It pained her to see him unwilling to ask for help. All she could do was give him support and be a constant in his life, no matter the weather. Come rain, come shine, Penelope would support him and his choices. She’d hate herself if she ever made him feel alone and worse than he already felt. She’d hate herself if she couldn’t provide the one thing she knew she could give and that was her love. She’d hate herself if she was the reason he didn’t want to see tomorrow. She’d hate herself…

Regardless how messy things got for them, she knew she’d always be here. She always knew she’d be by his side. Whatever he wanted, she’d do. Whoever he needed, she’d be. That’s how much Charlie meant to her. That’s how much she loved him. And as much as she refused to believe it, she knew that’s how much he could hurt her. A life without Charlie was unbearable.

“I’m ok, Pops,” Charlie softly smiled at the green eyed girl. He could feel the tiredness weighing his face down but he had to keep going. The money he was getting from these all-nighters was doing wonders for him and his Mom. She’d had her medication every week for the last three months because of Charlie putting in the grind and graft for the Serpents. He couldn’t stop now. “You worry too much about me, you know? You can’t kill Charlie Decker!”

“But Charlie can kill himself,” Poppy curtly countered. Absentmindly, she tightened her grip on her clasped hands and her right leg subtly started to bounce. Catching herself, she quickly stood up and turned to him, “Lets lay down for a little bit, please? I’ll set the alarm and everything. Even if you can’t rest your mind, can you at least rest your body? For me?” While she waited for his response, she took off her hoodie to reveal her black true crime shirt and tossed it on her backpack on the floor. “I can wait if you want to write your journal entry, but after I just want it to be you relaxing on this bed here,” she added.

Her green eyes that spoke to the soul of nature matched the soft dewy mist of the night’s storm, displaying all that was being contained on the inside. Her underlying sadness. Her clear awareness of all those things he didn’t want to say out loud. Penelope while sheltered watched and listened, she felt deeply. She was highly attuned to the feelings and emotions of those around her, and her mother was worried that because of this part of her, she would have a difficult time setting boundaries. When push came to shove, those who loved her, or said they did, would end up taking her for granted, walking all over her. Her mother was probably right but that wouldn’t change how Poppy went about life. She cared. What was wrong with that?

He hated when she did this. Charlie, for all his flaws, was unable to say no to Penelope James. “Ok ok, we’ll take a power nap.” Even when she was telling him off, which she did often, Poppy was still trying to be nice and caring and so deeply loving. She knew that he needed to write in his journal. It was more than a routine for Charlie, he needed to write. For him, getting the words out and onto paper meant that the fire in his brain that he could never put out wouldn’t burn him alive. It was always going, constantly moving, forever running wild like a bison stampede. It just never stopped. The journaling was a railroad crossing like the one dividing the North and South of Edenridge, it was a pause for his madness.

Getting off the bed, Charlie made his way over to his desk and opened up his current journal. It was already halfway full and he only started it a month ago. He took out the pen that Poppy had gotten him for his last birthday and pressed it down onto the yellow page:

Douglas Adams once wrote: 'He felt that his whole life was some kind of dream, and he sometimes wondered whose it was, and whether they were enjoying it.' There are days that seem so crazy, so mad that I ponder if someone is dreaming my life, why won’t they wake up? Because I’m exhausted of being me.

Once he was finished, Charlie took off his mustard coloured flannel and climbed onto the bed next to Poppy. He lay down next to her, reaching out and lifting the arm off the record player so that it stopped playing. “What dreams may come.”

Instead of responding immediately, Penelope laid on her side, holding her teardrop necklace in her hand and against her chest. The feeling of melancholy washed over her as if she was feeding off of Charlie’s energy like a parasite. She really did worry too much. It was hard to not love someone like Charlie. It was hard not to worry.

The idea of death being like sleep and our dreams becoming our heaven or hell, or whatever we imagine it to be… where there is no time, no fear of death, only a dream. It makes the afterlife seem more like a wish than anything. Something we make again and again and again, into eternity. If their life was a dream, why did the dream consist of so much pain? Why did she feel everything, everywhere all at once? Why? That was the whole problem, wasn’t it though?

Dreams weren’t about her or him alone. Dreams weren’t about their families or this little town they called home. Dreams weren’t innately selfish. They become it because that’s what it means to be alive. Everyone who’s ever been and ever will be, they were all part of the same cosmos of infinite dreams. Really, she’s not one to remember her dreams but she is one to remember how they made her feel. If life is a sleep, then love is its dream. Love is hard to forget.

Was she afraid to die? She didn’t know. What she did know was if the whole world disappeared and it was only her, only Charlie, where neither were reminded of all things that were broken, that’s all she would need. That would make her life a perfect dream.

“Charlie?” Penelope whispered, staring at him with eyes wide open.

Turning onto his side, Charlie looked down into Poppy’s eyes, lost as always in their beauty. He dwarfed her by far. At this stage he barely fit into his own bed. At six foot three he was the tallest boy in class and Penelope was one of the shortest. To see them together was like watching a cartoon and even now, in their own private world, if Ronnie walked in with her curled up so cute and him hanging out of the bed, she would laugh. Thank God she was going blind. “Poppy?”

“I’m not too much am I? Sometimes I wonder if things would be better if I went instead of Max. You’re always busy, Decky and Jade too…” Penelope looked away from her friend, curling her body even more. “I feel like a waste of space most nights.” This would never be a dream. This was her reality. Penelope James hated herself.

“Poppy no,” This was breaking his heart. He hated the fact that she felt this way about herself but he knew, just like he always did, how she felt. Penelope had lost so much when Max died and the sad reality of their situation was beating her down. They were Southies. The world didn’t care about them. In high school, they were changing, evolving into who they were going to be as adults. The four of them had been friends essentially since diapers but the hallow halls of Edenridge high had opened them up to new worlds and through every door they took, the rope connecting them got a little longer. “Decky and I have work and Jade is Jade, you know? She’s mad. We all love you and cherish you as you are, you’re our angel.” Charlie cupped her small face in his hand. “Without you, we’d fall apart in every sense of the word. I definitely would. I’m barely hanging on as is and you keep me going. To dream, it’s an awfully big adventure and I can only go on that adventure with you Penelope James.”

The water had built in her eyes the more he comforted her. When he cupped her face, tears were trailing down her cheeks. Learning to live with this massive hole in her chest wasn’t easy but she was trying. Each and every day she was trying. She thought tonight would be a good night. One where she didn’t get sad. One where she didn’t fall apart. One where she wasn’t a burden. It wasn’t. It never was.

Here alone with Charlie, the immense feeling of grief overwhelmed her and she couldn’t lie to him or pretend to be okay. She was never good at keeping secrets from him and pretending was more exhausting than not. Poppy wanted him to know that he was her reason just as much as she was his. She wanted him to know that if she lost him, she wouldn’t be able to push forward like she has to with Max. She wanted him to know that in her dreams she saw him. He was her wish. She wanted him to know many things but some things were better left unsaid. “Swear to me,” she gently placed her hands on his chest, inching closer and looking deeply into his crystal-thimble brown eyes, “Swear to me, where you go, I go. No matter what. You’ll take me with you.”

”I swear,” Charlie pressed his head against hers, the rain now the only soundtrack to their world. ”But if the worst happens and I go before you, remember me as a time of day.”

Edenridge

_{TIMESTAMP: Sometime after 6
FT: The Sinclair Twins}

____________________________________________________________________


____________________________________________________________________

Neither dad nor brother were home, as per usual, which meant Autumn and Caroline had the whole house to themselves. The brunette of the duo had taken a break from practicing a new Clover cheer routine with her sister to log onto her instagram on her sister’s phone to look at Derrick Miller’s page. In her active wear, she scrolled through his page, while taking a swig from her water bottle. He really did move on like she meant nothing to him. Like she was nothing.

Her heart sank when she noticed he deleted all the pictures of them together. The most recent picture he posted was with him and a couple of friends. Latching onto his arm was the girl she suspected all along. The girl she knew he’d leave her for. Autumn wasn’t dumb but she wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. She wanted to believe he wasn’t playing games and that every time he brought her name up, it wasn’t because he wanted her. Autie didn’t want to control him and his friendships. She didn't want control. She just wanted him.

At the same time, she knew something was off when he kept bringing the girl’s name up just to get a rise out of her because: “I like it when you get jealous.” Replaying moments in their relationship, she could only find herself more and more disgusted with herself. How she spent days waiting for texts and then randomly at midnight, every so often, he’d be like “you up?” She was a fool to think this time would be different.

The thing with Derrick was, they started off wonderfully. They had chemistry. He had her, she had him. She thought they had a connection, especially since he swept her off her feet, made her feel seen, wanted, loved and paid attention to her. He knew what made her feel good and told her she was exactly what he was looking for in a girl. How many girls did he pull that shit on?

Everything changed when she wanted more from him, when she held him to the standard of a boyfriend. She’d bring up issues that have been building up over months and all he did was brush it under the rug and whisper sweet nothings to her. Now the rose-tinted glasses were off and she could see him for what he was. A first-class asshole. Like why did he miss last week’s family dinner when he knew she was looking forward to it? Or why did he hang up on her face two days ago when she asked him when he was going to take her out on a date? Why didn’t he want to spend time with her? What was she doing wrong? Why didn’t he love her anymore?!

They fought last night and when they were at the gas station because she had to use the bathroom, he left her, just fucking left her. She should’ve seen the red flags. She should’ve known all he wanted was to fuck her. They were all the same. Reviewing their past, their memories, she should’ve seen it. Should’ve seen through all his phony excuses. After junior prom, she had invited him over to the house to watch movies. Instead of spending more time with her, he said "I made plans already" with friends. These were friends he saw everyday. He pulled her in, only to spit in her face. Time and time again. And she was a fool. The fool to believe he could love her.

In the kitchen, Carrie was being a bad, bad girl, fixing her and her sister up cocktails while she waited for her pie to finish baking. It wasn’t her fault daddy didn’t hide the liquor cabinet keys well and it wasn’t like he was going to be home tonight either. With the bad storm, the chances of the Sinclair men returning home were very unlikely.

She was swaying to her non-Disney Pop playlist (shocker), and the song that started blasting from the bluetooth speaker was Forever Drunk by Peach PRC. They had been dancing ever since their friends had left, that was like a couple hours ago, so it was time for them to take a break and have a little fun. Using the capped vodka bottle as a microphone, she sang like no one was watching, loud, excitable, and proud:

“Forever drunk
Forever drunk
Now that you're gone I'm forever drunk
It hurts too much to sober up
Just let me be forever drunk
Now I'm dancing over silver cans
Pretending they're adoring fans
So I'm forever drunk
Now that you're gone I'm forever drunk.”

Popping the cap off the vodka, she grinned and took a sip. Her immediate reaction was squinting her face and puckering her lips at how strong it was by itself. “How does Autie do this?” Blehk! Liquor was meant to be mixed. Getting easily distracted with making a relatively basic drink, she was heel toe (happy feet) dancing and shaking her ass around the kitchen, almost spilling vodka on her shirt. She was in a good mood because she needed to be for Autumn but also because she found a new goal for herself. She was determined to reunite Gavriel and Mordechai together as friends. At all cost, she would work her tail off to make her new southie friend smile. She didn’t know what happened between Rye and Mordechai and she didn’t care! If she recalled conversations she had with her brother’s best friend a few years back, he really cared about this Mordechai. She knew that name sounded familiar but it took awhile for her to register. Mordechai was a Jew! Just like Ryebread!

Once the cranburry orange crush cocktails were fixed, the oven beeped. Placing the open vodka bottle on the island, she slipped on her Ratatouille mittens and pulled out her Pecan Pie. Taking a waft of it, she crossed her eyes and squealed, “Yummy!” Placing the pie down on the oven top, her sparkling sapphire eyes caught sight of the mail placed unceremoniously on the counter. Did no one look through it yet? Taking off her mittens, hanging them on their designated hook, she pressed the off button of the oven before bringing her attention to the mail. Going through the letters one by one, she muttered, “Bill, trash, trash, trash, bill…” her voice trailed off when she caught sight of two envelopes that didn’t go with the rest. One was for her family with no sender and the other had pretty cursive with Niles’ name on it.

She went for the one directed to her family first. Skimming it quickly, her happy face turned into a grimace. Dear David. She remembered it clearly. She was in sixth grade. It was New Year’s Day. Scott Street was busy with cops and ambulances and nosey neighbors. The Coach’s son drowned from drinking too much. They heard the rumors but she remembered Niles telling them to ignore it. He said don’t spread with your mouth what your eyes didn’t see.

They knew better than most what rumors could do to a family. Only recently Edenridge was accepting of races that weren’t white. This town was small and outdated. Their mother was not only Spanish but she was an outsider. If it wasn’t for her being married to daddy, who knows what would’ve happened to her. Then again, her memory, her name, and her face faded, like the many ghosts of Edenridge’s past. No one likes seeing their loved ones forgotten. That hurt her family badly. Niles more than anyone else.

Closing the letter, she called out to the bluetooth speaker, “Alexa, stop the music.” Her mood had shifted. There was no longer a bubbly, bouncy, happy-go-lucky girl. No, Carrie’s eyes dulled, the shimmer of hope, the sparkle vanished, with her faith. Faith in this town and humanity. Faith that things were magical. She could hear Mordechai’s voice when he asked: "So, is this somethin' ya need ta show your kids? Just 'cause it's all happy and musical?" Life wasn’t really happy. Life wasn’t a musical. Life was tiring and exhausting. Life sucked.

As she reached for the other letter, her gaze rested on the cursive Niles. That handwriting matched the handwriting from the Dear David letter. Uncomfortable that someone was still out there with ammunition against the town, upset that they were targeting her brother, and angry, so angry that everyone around her was hurting, and someone was grinning behind the scenes, Carrie tore the letter open.

“Hey Care, what’s taking so—” Autumn saw the expression on her sister. The same expression she wore at night at the orphanage when all the other kids were sleeping. The same look she wore when their dad didn’t come home, like he promised. The same look that she wore when all her friends talked about their boyfriends, girlfriends, and partners, and she still had nothing, she meant nothing, she was nothing. “—what’s going on, Honey bee?” Autumn broke the distance and saw the letter her sister had already opened and the one in her hands. Standing beside her, but not breaching any closer, the older twin waited for her blonde sister to respond, when she was ready.

“Someone is terrorizing the town again. This time it’s about David O’Hara. From the looks of it, it’s a love letter from that rumored underage girl…” Carrie explained before lifting the next letter and showcasing Niles’ name. “This is the same handwriting. I’m uneasy, Autie.”

“Niles had nothing to do with David, right? He didn’t know him,” Autumn tensed up, crossing her arms, deeply concerned and unable to appreciate the assortment Carrie laid out for them, pie and drink.

Glancing at her sister, the Disney attitude long gone, at least for this frozen, shared time, the blonde Sinclair pondered, “Why would he? He got into fights that year when he heard people bringing up that shit. He hates rumors. He hates snakes, and I don’t mean the Serpents. He just hates…”

“People talking about shit they know nothing about.”

“Yeah,” Carrie whispered, her hollow eyes falling back on the envelope and letter in her hands.

Gently, Autumn put her arms around her sister and rested her chin on her shoulder, “We’ll read it together. It’s going to be okay. Whatever this is, we’ll make sure he’s okay. We’re not going to lose Niles. Okay? We’re not going to lose him.”

Without any hesitation, Carrie opened the letter and the Sinclair twins read the contents in silence. Both twins kept blank expressions as their eyes gradually scanned through the pretty cursive. They didn’t look sad. They didn’t look mad. They didn’t look confused. They were impassive as they took in the words and let it settle in their minds, not their hearts.

This wasn't about them.

As much as Niles could be an asshole, they loved him. They loved him so much. They knew somewhere deep down, the old Niles — the Niles that questioned the world, the Niles that defended those that couldn’t defend themselves, even if he was skin and bones, and had a heart of glass, the Niles that was angry at the world but let that drive him to see tomorrow, the Niles that cared — was still there. Niles cared so much that it was killing him slowly.

Niles had built armor to protect himself and the more he distanced himself from the old Niles, the suicidal Niles, the more he became this character, a man wearing a mask, who lost the voice that reminded him what was right and what was clearly wrong. Niles was turning into this man he thought his father wanted and the more he focused on others, and not himself, the further away he became from healing. Truly, deeply healing.

The Sinclair twins knew their brother. They knew him well. And they knew he was aware of his flaws. They knew he was fully capable of holding himself accountable and catching himself before he did something toxic. They knew he was aware of how easy it was for him to push other people’s buttons. They knew deep down, he didn’t enjoy the man he was becoming, not really. To this day, Niles simply wanted his mother back and to this day, he was still grasping at ways to cope and survive, even if it was at the detriment of all the women he’s slept with and dated.

Their brother was fucked in the head and all they could do was just be Autumn and just be Caroline, the two pain in the asses that he loved, though he’d never say it outloud. They teased him because that’s what he knew best, that was his normal. The thing about people who severely suffer mentally, change was hard for them. If they weren’t ready for it, they would react in ways that only led to distress, frustration, and heartbreak. Any change, whether for better or for worse, was accompanied by discomfort.

This would be one of those times they would need to prepare for battle. They realized midway through the letter that it was a separate situation from Dear David. This was a break up letter from Caitlin Cleary to Niles. But there was a connection. Something that tied the letters together even when they're about two different things. The handwriting on both letters matched impeccably. Dear David’s girl was Caitlin Cleary and Caitlin no longer wanted to be with Niles.

Niles

July 19, 2021

Throughout my life, I have used secrecy as a way to look after those close to me. I've never wanted to burden anyone with my feelings, emotions, thoughts or situations, which is why I have a hard time trusting even the members of my own family. The fear of being dismissed, judged or misunderstood has kept me from welcoming others into my private space. Only three people in this world can say they really know me-- one of which remains with me solely in spirit.

After some soul searching, I have come to the realization that my secrets have led me to make false statements that, although without any ill intentions, have wounded my loved ones. In my worry of upsetting you and fear of your anger causing me harm, I have omitted the truth and outright lied to you about certain topics. Today, I choose to push those fears aside in order to be truthful and honest with you about what is weighing on my heart.

When we first began talking, I was fresh out of a two year-long romantic relationship. Instead of dealing with the grief of the loss of that person, I allowed myself to get distracted from the pain with both college duties and meeting you. I've noticed it's a problematic pattern I have with the romances I've been involved in: not taking the time to fully heal before allowing another into my heart. As you and I got to know each other, I felt hopeful. You had arrived at what I thought was the perfect time. We had similar goals, life experiences, and aligning aspirations for our next partner. The idea of having a relationship I wouldn't have to hide, with a fellow Northie from a respectable family, was exciting to say the least. You captivated me with your good looks, charming personality, approachable demeanor and easygoing attitude. I looked forward to every conversation, and counted the days until we were to finally meet face to face. That night at the airport, when you asked me to be yours, I was so blindly certain that I was making the right choice by allowing myself to be happy alongside you.

That choice, it turned out, was the wrong one.

That morning after at the hotel, with that apple violently flung in my direction barely missing my head, the rose-tinted glasses were knocked right off my face. The red flags that had previously been blending into the background now shone like billboards during a starless night. I noticed how you began to isolate me and guilt-trip me into controlling my time with the excuse of ‘wanting to spend time with me’. I became aware of the way I walked on eggshells around you, always watching what I did and what I said in fear of provoking you into another aggressive reaction. I noted the way you would frequently check on me to always be on the know of where I was and what I was doing at all times. I saw the way you constantly criticized me for the things that made me who I am, and how easily you dismissed me and my feelings about anything. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t forget the way you blamed me for the first date debacle, even when I didn’t know we’d have my ex interrupt it and after I stood up for us both.

I realized with time that, as cruel as it might sound, I was never falling in love with you. Rather, I was falling in love with the idea of what you represented: a relationship I wouldn’t get judged over with someone who could meet my parents’ expectations. I had gaslighted myself into thinking you were what I needed-- the solution to my problem-- when in reality I didn’t even know what I needed myself.

Of course, you are not solely to blame for the demise of this relationship. I have made my own share of mistakes, which I acknowledge and sincerely apologize for. I was not honest with you about every aspect of my life, and tried to fool us into believing a lie when we both knew the truth all along.

I love Mika. For better or for worse, masochistic as it might be, I can't imagine my life alongside anyone else. My feelings for him are so real, deep and overwhelming in ways I never thought possible after the loss of my first love three years ago. My heart has belonged to him since I was 15, and it belongs to him to this very day.

I’m sorry.

I deeply apologize for wasting your time on something that wasn't meant to be from the start. I should have taken the time to reconcile my own feelings before diving into our relationship so hastily. I thank you for the lessons my time with you has taught me, and want you to know I have nothing but cordial feelings towards you. My parting wish is that you find a woman who will give you the unconditional love and support you deserve, and who will trust you with every part of her: the good, the bad and the ugly.

Sincerely,
Caitlin

“What should we do?” Autumn released her sister, anxiously biting her nails.

Folding the letter, Carrie put it back in the envelope, closed her eyes and thought, “I could easily forge her handwriting but…” Resting the letter on the counter, leaving her hand on it, she continued, opening her eyes to make eye contact with her twin, “This is going to hurt him. A lot. And some of these things I wouldn’t have risked saying if I was dating someone abusive. But we know Niles.”

Grabbing the cocktail her sister had made her, Autie nodded and downed the beverage. When she finished the drink, she placed the glass back on the table and said in agreement, “We know Niles. And I have faith—”

“—I have faith too. It’s not as strong most days and I’m very good at hiding it behind a smile but I just know. I know—”

“He’ll be okay. With support, the right support, he’ll be okay.”

“Niles will be okay.”

Edenridge

_{TIMESTAMP: Couple hours after In the Heart of the Storm}

____________________________________________________________________


____________________________________________________________________

“AIS!”

As he struck the wooden training dummy, Adam could feel the sharp, knife-like sensation shooting down his inner forearm. He had learned long ago how to dull pain. Exhale through the mouth, release the feeling into the air to be carried off by the wind and centre yourself on something else, something that could flood your mind and wash away the sensations of agony and discomfort.

“AIS!”

Another strike, a downward pointed elbow. Adam’s mind drifted, unfocused into memory. He could see Tommy’s face contorted and grimaced as his patella tendon was ripped apart by the attack. It was almost like an out of body experience. Glancing up, he could see his father's steel blue eyes staring gleefully with mania at the carnage that was unfolding. No Mercy. Win at All Cost. Survive. Lessons learned at Axe and Hammer Dojo were not lessons learned lightly. The whites of his father's teeth, the joker-like grin, it was encouragement to keep going. Adam repeated the elbow strike over and over. Tommy screamed. He whipped the boy around onto the floor and the ref charged the Callahan boy to the out of bounds section of the mat, separating the lion from his prey.

“AIS!”

Adam pressed a thrust kick into the centre of the dummy. Instead of simply seeing wood, the fighter saw his father, flying through a used car lot's display window. The glass breaking, shattering into a million pieces of stardust around the crumpling body of the senior Callahan, an image Adam kept in his head almost all the time. He ran from the scene, only stopping to see Sensei Zeno, flanked by his daughter? Watching him with such a look of disappointment on his usually stoic and blank face.

Pressing his head against the dummy, Adam gripped onto the bars for support to hold himself aloft. The sweat was pouring from his bare chest as he breathed out the pain, ignoring the swelling and bruising of his hands. Sensei Zeno and Thom Callahan had pushed and pushed and indoctrinated Adam into their way of thinking for a time but he had broken free. Yet despite this freedom, the lessons remained, the teachings remained. He closed his green eyes and searched, he dove into the waters of his past to find a memory, to find his centre. There she was. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Grimm by name but not by nature. He exhaled again as the blood trickled from his left knuckle.

There she was.

The chaos of his mind prevented him from hearing the quiet steps of the woman in his heart. Kylee wasn’t a heavy sleeper by any means so she had been awake the moment he left the bed. She chose to keep quiet and stay so she wouldn’t disturb his routine. She didn’t want to become that type of girlfriend that required 24/7 attention all the time (even though she totally was that girlfriend). Their budding romance was fresh and exhilarating. The two lovers were threaded in every heartbeat and Kylee was determined to make it last, burying her neediness, deep into the ground. Or at least try to.

The couple had spent the past few hours exploring each other, having fun and feeling good, as one. Kylee found herself exhausted and in need of a nap. Now that she got her micro nap in and her mind was restless, she could no longer wait for the company. She needed him! She needed her Adam.

Picking herself up and throwing on one of his shirts, she peaked out the door to watch him. From when they were kids to now, his technique had improved by leaps and bounds. His hits were clean, sharp, and precise. Every move had intention and power. He was strong. He was focused. He was a fighter. It didn’t take a trained eye to notice that. Adam Callahan was good at what he was doing and he carried himself as such.

Even with all the years of training, even with him taking pride in his lifestyle, she could feel the pain. He was this way because he had no choice. He was trying his damndest to not become the very thing he hated the most. She saw it. Not because he showed it in his face. No, he was good at masking his emotions, just like Roddy. She saw it by feeling the atmosphere. He was hurting. He was hurting so much.

Peering into this ritual of his that he likely did alone, she could feel every punch and every kick. She could feel the years of suffering where they were apart emitting from every fiber of his being. She could feel the tears he shed alone, which only drove him to this point. Only drove him to come back to Edenridge to her. It made her incredibly sad. Sad that she wasn’t there for him when he needed her the most.

Her selfish feelings aside, Kylee was grateful he was here and that he was using control to better himself. Control was something she battled daily, hating when things didn’t go according to plan. That’s why she didn’t take his disappearance well. That’s why she didn’t take his reappearance well. That’s why she didn’t take that Stacy girl well either. Everything he’s been through she had no part in. Everything that was his life thus far she couldn’t change even if she wanted to. He was ripped from her life by his sleazy father and she couldn’t protect him. She was useless. Just how she couldn’t protect herself from her own father, unable to say no and fight back. An obedient daughter through and through. Kylee had no control in anything that mattered and she hated that.

Pushing her thoughts to the back of her mind, Kylee slid her hands and arms around the sides of her beloved Adam. Wrapping herself around him, holding him close, she pressed her soft lips on the nape of his neck and announced her presence by playfully teasing, “Sweaty boy.” She turned her head to rest her cheek against his back. The thought that this was her reality now was still hard to process but it sure did make her smile.

She loved him.

Adam jumped internally when he felt Kylee wrap herself around him. He had learned to control all physical impulse and movement but that didn’t mean he still didn’t feel it all on the inside. Turning in her arms, the fighter held the Mayor's daughter close with his right arm, wiping the blood from his left on his dark shorts. He rested his hand under her hair and on the back of her neck before moving his now dry hand to her waist. “I’m so sorry, did I wake you?” The fact she could get any sleep at all, with the storm raging outside and lighting flashing every few minutes was crazy.

He still couldn’t believe that she was there. Kylee Grimm was in his apartment. Not only that but they had made love and professed love and it had all happened so fast. Only forty eight hours ago Adam was sitting on the nearby couch and was planning on how he would approach Ky again after his kidnapping by his father. How do you go see the girl you’ve loved all your life, after disappearing from hers and tell her your back in town? Apparently it involved crashing into her on your third skateboard that month and going on a hunt for a psycho sending threatening letters. Then getting caught in a monsoon and professing your love. Yeah, a weird day.

“I have a routine. Sorry it just helps me get my head where it needs to be.”

“Why are you sorry?” Kylee reached up and gently placed her cold hand on his cheek. Her big eyes watching him carefully. “I like the noise,” she serenely smiled, gently stroking his face in an attempt to soothe him, “Believe it or not, I sleep better when there isn’t silence.” It’s true. The silence was awful. Coming from her creepy manor, yeah, she’d prefer the sounds of Adam’s grunts from punching a dummy and the storm outside any day. Left little room for the imagination when she knew what was making the noise. “I’ve been up for a bit. I just didn’t want to bother you,” She bashfully admitted before giving him a gentle peck on the lips.

“You’re sweet.”

In that moment, Adam felt like he was the luckiest guy on the planet. Feeling her hands on his skin cooled and calmed him, as the memories of another life washed away with the rain. Sensei Zeno and Faye and his father were all pulled away with the tide, instead leaving him alone on an island paradise with Kylee Grimm. He leaned down and kissed her deeply, his heart ablaze with a dream come true. When the torture and the training became too much, Adam always used the thought of a happy Kylee to get him through it all.

Taking his lips away from hers, he took a step back and grabbed a nearby towel to dry off his torso. There were lots of little things that Adam needed to do through the day to help him cope, he was a man of schedule and rhythm. What Ky had just walked in on, was just the tip of the iceberg. “I need to take a shower.”

“Okie dokie!" Kylee beamed. “I’ll go after you,” she added, saying matter-of-factly. Stepping back and allowing him to do his thing, the Mayor's daughter continued, “I’m going to get myself a snacky snack and make a call.” The logical thing to do was give her father an update and tell him she was safe but that wasn’t what she wanted to do nor who she wanted to speak to. No. What she needed to do was call her best friend and tell him all the things that happened to her today. She needed Roddy and she wanted to see his face, especially his reaction to the deetz. “When I’m all clean I want to watch these diary videos you made. I demand it, Adam.” She gave an excitable grin, ready to see a side of Adam that would belong to her and only her. Someone for her to have and to hold, and that wanted to do all that back. A side that was completely hers and no one else’s. Her Adam.

God she was so cute. This version of Kylee was such a far cry from the girl he had reconnected with earlier that day. The one from this morning was standing on the precipice of her dark place, teetering on the edge of her darker impulses. She had fallen but Adam had managed to catch her. “As you wish,” He bowed in his best Dread Pirate Roberts impression. His pale green eyes took in her body hungrily. The shirt she had claimed dwarfed her but Adam could still see the outline of her curves, the soft silk of her skin under the hem of the shirt where her thighs were barely covered. Damn, she looked far better in that than he ever did. “See you in a bit.” Popping a kiss against her lips again, Adam turned towards the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

The moment the door was closed Kylee was quick to dash to her phone (which was still on the coffee table) and fly onto the couch, laying on her belly. When she unlocked her phone, she saw the missed call from her father. She bit her cheek in worry, wondering if he was going to be mad at her for not calling back immediately. He only called once which is all he should need to do when it came to her. Shaking her head, dismissing her growing anxiety, Kylee went to her best friend’s number and pressed the video chat option.

As she waited for Roddy to pick up, she shifted her body by sitting up and taking the pillow with her. Hugging the pillow, she hid part of her face, hoping Roddy had been managing Texas living just fine. Kylee worried about him. Texas was a long way away from home and she wondered if he made any friends. Were there cool ghost stories there? The Grimm princess could only hope he was making the most of his time with his small family tagging along. Still, things would be better if she and him were in the same state. At least then she could visit him when she wanted to.

Roddy withdrawal aside, Kylee couldn’t believe her day so far. It was so strange and unusual, and yet it made so much sense. From when Adam crashed into her to him and her getting entangled with each other, fiercely, intensely, wonderfully… it all made sense. Not only to their physical chemistry but to the fact that whatever they were missing for the past few years was no longer a problem. That hole in her heart that was made when he disappeared, didn’t exist anymore. The moment Adam made his intentions clear and bared his soul, he gave Kylee a sense of unconditional love that she didn’t realize she desperately wanted, hopelessly needed, and absolutely yearned for.

All this time she was searching for something, she just didn’t realize it until today. He did all the right things that made her feel that she was deserving. That she was beautiful and he understood exactly what she felt 99 percent of the time even though she loved to make things difficult and couldn’t help but be a pain in his ass. And honestly? She couldn’t be happier. “Roddyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy,” she drawled when she saw the video slowly processing.

“Lanie! Rylie spilled her food in Dusty’s hat again. It’s your turn to clean it.” The familiar sound and thick Boston accent chimed through the speakers of Kylee’s phone as the one and only Roddy Callahan appeared on the screen in all his shaggy haired and bearded glory with his baby girl sitting on his lap. “Oh we’re on! Hey Velma!” The young man waved at his best friend. “Look Ry, it’s Auntie Ky! Say hi,” Rod picked up the little girl's arm so that she too could wave at the brunette, all the while having a smile plastered across her potato face.

“Oh she’s getting so big,” Kylee’s eyes widened as she looked at the pure cuteness that was her best friend’s daughter. “Hi, Moonie!” The girl's voice shifted to that of baby talk, high pitched and adorable. She gave Rylie the nickname Moonie the moment she met her because she could immediately tell that she was Roddy’s moon. “How’s my little Moonie doing?”

This. This is what she missed the most. Being in the presence of Roddy and even coddling and spoiling his daughter. Just looking at Rylie’s face gave her baby fever, but that was neither here nor there. She could barely take care of herself. Birth control was absolutely necessary for Kylee because she had too much life to live. A baby would ruin that. So, while she could, she would vicariously live through her best friend and be the cool aunt. That did remind her. She hadn’t sent a care package in TWO WEEKS. It was long overdue. She’d need to drag Adam out shopping so they could buy Rylie a new outfit.

“Well she’s in love with her uncle Dusty, I mean even right now she’s given him the eyes,” Roddy laughed as his words became a reality. Rylie’s little face watched someone off screen intently, drool falling from her mouth. “Hey Dust? You mind taking her?”

From the left hand corner of the screen, a tall man emerged from the orange hued background. He was country handsome, with a wispy dirty blonde beard and hair poking out from beneath his ten gallon hat. “Well that ain’t no thing, come here sugar pie,” he spoke with a thick, melodic southern drawl before he reached down to the eagerly waiting child who already had her arms outstretched waiting for him. “I think your Momma has finished cleaning up your little party. Why don’t we go see her and see if she wants to run into town for a bit to eat? Huh? Would you like that? Yeah I think you would.” Dusty and Rylie disappeared out of the frame of the picture, leaving just Roddy.

Roddy took a sip from a cup he had sitting on the side before smiling. “So what’s new at home?”

“First off: wow, he’s fucking hot,” Kylee took a moment to gather herself, even adding the extra dramatics of fanning her face. “I always forget how hot he is and then woop, there he is. Cowboy hat and all.” Once she got her unvirginal eyes to focus on the boy on the screen and not on Lanie’s cousin’s husband (wow, a mouthful), she cleared her throat, laying the pillow down on her lap. “Too much, honestly. You know our home. Always something new. Today another letter came out,” Kylee revealed, frowning at the thought that letters were still haunting the town and likely would for the rest of the year. She needed to get to the bottom of this.

“Oh fuck!” Roddy wasn't shocked to hear that another letter had found its way onto the streets of Edenridge. He had thought about it a lot and imagined that there was likely a novel's worth of pages being prepared to float around town. Eden was a place of secrets and lies. Week to week it seemed that with every sun rise a new untruth was to be laid bare. “What is it this time? Beau fathered a secret love child with Miss Copeland? Principal Payne was actually the Tooth Fairy?”

“Actually,” Kylee pushed her hair behind her ear, as she shared the information she gathered throughout her day, “I don’t think this has anything to do with Charlie’s journal. I think someone liked the results from the Allison incident and decided to use it for their own agenda. I do think we are going to get another Charlie-knows-too-much shitshow soon, but this one, it’s more personal. This one hits home for your cousin, Clay.” Her eyes searched Roddy’s face to see if there was any sign of concern (she was grateful he wasn't a complete Robot anymore). “It’s about David. And the letter. Well it was a secret love letter.”

“Clay’s tough,” Roddy leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. Of course he was concerned for Clay. Hell, the idiot was more of a big brother to him than Francis ever was. He really had a good heart. “He might be thicker than a two dollar steak but he’s the best kind of person. He’ll get through this.” Rod knew that Ky lived off of this kind of stuff. He did too when they were the Scooby crew but times had changed and his priorities had to change with them.

“I remember this going around school, that David had a secret girlfriend. There was always a rumour with us weirdos that the Elite and the jocks would pick a target from the freshmen class to use as they pleased, be it sexual or otherwise. Like you remember how Reagan Ramsey basically groomed Natalia to be the next, what did she used to call it? The Supreme,” He let out a soft chuckle; what a stupid gimmick. “Then there was Mei and Sabrina Aviles. Pretty sure that chick is the reason Mei is…well Mei. Grace and Danny? If I’m not wrong, the heavy whisper at the time was David was seeing Caitlin. I never really questioned it because we might be cousins but we’re not really close.”

Heh.

Kylee rested her hand on her lips, deep in thought. It wasn’t like she could do anything about this reveal now. The storm was bad and if anyone deserved to have the answers to this, it would be Clay. She had her suspicions, especially after the talk with Jill and Mei. They brought her list down to two. Lanie and Caitlin. It would be quite silly of her to accuse her best friend’s lady but also if Lanie was as close to Allison as it seemed, Kylee didn’t think Lanie would touch the Elite. Not even with a ten-foot pole.

After her conversation with the dark goddesses, Kylee was able to break down the letter and see all the context clues. “The letter… the girl was someone that grew up with David. It made her seem absolutely smitten by her brother’s friend. A kid crush. She grew up hearing stories of him and his best friends. They were royalty. Obviously, the Elite. She knew about his relationship with Bailey Darensborg, which means she was connected to his circle. Maybe not directly, but enough where she could find out details about him, like any girl hard crushing on someone would do. He took her home from a party. The letter was dated the day after Allison OD’d. So it was likely that party. They went to a clearing, near their houses, a sign they were neighbours. Clay has Lamb. Francis has you. David with Jamie. Russ, an only child. And then there’s Rhett with his three sisters. See how stupidly obvious it is?”

“You’ve done it, Velma. You’ve solved the mystery.” Roddy was proud and for a moment, a feeling welled up in his chest. It was just like the good old days where the pair of them and his cousin Adam, wherever he was, used to get up to mischief and find the secrets behind Edenridge’s thousand-fold ghost stories. Memories. “Now what you do with that info is up to you. Why would Caitlin release her own love letters? Unless she didn’t and if that’s the case, who did it?” One answer had been uncovered but now the questions had changed. “Get your orange turtleneck on Ky, you’ve got another mystery on your hands.”

“I don’t think this part is my mystery to solve,” Kylee softly smiled, thinking about Clay. Someone she cared deeply about and it all happened in the course of one month, thanks to Roddy and thanks to Wes.

Wes…

Biting her nails, with the sudden thought of her boyfriend, she knew at this point she should expedite the process and break up with him. It was a no brainer she would choose Adam over Wes. Adam was only here for a day and had opened up to her in ways that Wes never would. Putting the image of Wes in the back of her mind, she decided, “I’ll call Clay in the morning. I imagine he can’t do much right now anyways since it’s fucking crazy outside. As for Caitlin, I don’t think she would. Share her own love letter, I mean.”

Caitlin was always a quiet one, who avoided her like a plague for obvious reasons. Kylee was a gossip, just like Mei was. Though, Kylee didn’t like gossiping unless she knew what she was talking about was true. She was a person who found out secrets. Not someone who lied just to get clout. “If it was her she would’ve done it years ago so the blame wouldn’t fall all on David.” Once again, Kylee had her suspicions. The person who likely did it was someone who cared for David with all their heart and that knew him incredibly well, to the point where they knew where he stashed his love letters. There weren’t many that would know besides the Elite, Jamie, and Lamb. “If I figured out this much, I’m sure Clay’s on the trail too.”

“I dunno,” Roddy shrugged. “I once saw Clay eat a Lego on a bet… he was twenty one.”

Adam emerged from the steaming hot bathroom as if he had just walked out of a Japanese hot spring. With only a towel to cover his modesty, the young fighter made his way over to Kylee. He didn’t want to disturb her whilst she was on the phone so he simply pressed a soft kiss to her head, not looking at the face on the screen. He breezed by and headed towards the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Roddy’s mouth was agape. Either Wes had been hitting the gym or that was not Ky’s boyfriend. In fact, he looked a lot like… ”Kylee, what the shit?!”

The Mayor’s daughter was beaming red in embarrassment. She didn’t account for Adam getting out of the shower nor did she expect him to go to her and kiss her head, while she was talking to someone in video chat. She was smiling widely, not because she was happy. No, she felt so awkward that the only way she could show it was through a big smile that hurt her cheeks. She was dying on the inside. Using the pillow to shield her face from Roddy’s shooketh stare, Kylee tried to explain herself, “You… see…” She stumbled on her words, feeling like a little kid who got caught stealing. “Um, well… you see. Um... Adam’s back.”

“Adam as in my cousin Adam? The boy whose name was all over your maths textbook? Adam that was kidnapped by my lunatic uncle Thom, Adam? Fuuuuuck.”

Uncle Thom always terrified the hell out of Roddy. Around everyone he always had a big grin and that stupid ponytail. Yet behind closed doors, the six foot something man beat the hell out of Adam and Andy. He didn’t know if he ever was abusive to Rachel but he wouldn’t be surprised. Rod remembered the day that Adam “left”. They had been out for the day when they returned to the butcher shop to find Thom rowing fiercely with Roddy’s dad John. Thom grabbed his son and walked out of the store with Adam under his arm and he never saw him again after that…until now apparently.

“So Adam’s back and immediately you’re screwing him when literally last week you were telling me how much you liked Wes… actually no makes perfect sense. Adam was always your person. Shit, Ky,” Roddy really didn’t know what to make of this. This was too much to compute for the robot. His missing cousin, now found and in Kylee’s bed. Only in Edenridge. “Have you at least broken up with Wes?”

Pulling the pillow down, Kylee shyly glanced over to Adam’s bedroom door and then nervously laughed, “Funny thing about that, Roddy, my pal, my best friend, my home boy, my rotten soldier, my sweet cheese, my good-time boyeh,” Yes, Kylee was definitely dragging this out, knowing damn well she was a bad, bad girl. She did the big no no. It wasn’t something she ever did before but one thing led to the other and here she was in Adam’s apartment, wearing his shirt, having spent the past couple hours getting fucked senseless by the energizer bunny.

“Kylee! For all that’s holy! Spit it out I’ve got to take Rylie to a playdate!”

“Okay, so,” Now it was time to give him a mouthful. She hoped she didn’t lose him because of this. It was an honest to god— actually, no. Adam wasn’t a mistake. She would’ve likely given in no matter the time he decided to come back. He made her feel butterflies and it was hard to fight the pull he had on her. He wasn’t a mistake, but perhaps she could’ve… said she couldn’t right now. She was weak. Weak for the Adam dick. “I was all depressed today because Wes was not responding to me. He didn’t even say good morning. You know how that gets in my head! And it went on almost all day. Like, he didn’t even have the courtesy to send me an update. His car wasn’t in front of his Airbnb either so I’m anxious and at the library trying to research for the investigation. Okay, so,” Kylee kept her voice low, not knowing how she’d explain this one to Adam. If anything, he would feel like shit, “I leave the library, right? And in comes Adam out of nowhere, and he almost killed me with his skateboard. I could’ve died!”

Kylee with her dramatics.

“That turned into him spending the day with me, just like the good ol’ Scooby days. But that's beside the point. I had a late lunch date with Marco, but that turned into me kinda’ losing my shit because I might’ve been a-little-jealous-that-Adam-knew-a-girl-who-was-randomly-in-the-park-with-us. Like for crying out loud, she is supposed to be in Pinehurst. Why the fuck is she in Lyon Park? Welllllllllllllll,” Kylee caught her breath, her words speeding up by the second, before whining, “What was I supposed to do when Adam said he was in love with me in the rain? The rain part was entirely my fault since I was fighting him… I didn’t like that he had a whole life that I wasn’t a part of. Yeah I know an awful one but it still didn’t include me. And…” She pouted at Roddy, in a way that said please forgive me. “How do you fight a stupidly romantic confession in freaking monsoon weather by the first boy you ever gave your heart to and might have lowkey undressed in your head? Now… I’m-at-his-apartment.” Kylee ended her spiel with a deep exhale.

That was a lot.

Roddy placed both of his hands over his face and he let out a great yell. This was his best friend. This was his platonic puzzle piece and she was an absolute mess of a human being. God he loved her too much. Slamming his hands down onto his knees, the displaced Callahan began to laugh. “That is such a Kylee story!” Rod the robot broke his binary code and beamed from ear to ear. “You’re such an idiot. Ok as soon as you hang up with me you need to get in touch with Wes. Even if he doesn’t respond you know it’s the right thing to do. Say your piece and be done with it. Don’t drag this out or people are just gonna get hurt.”

Relieved but still feeling a little shitty, Kylee nodded and promised, “I will, I will. I know it’s wrong and I don’t want to hurt anyone but Adam is really hot,” Kylee buried her blushing face, still heckin’ embarrassed, into the pillow which muffled her voice, “He has so much muscleeeeeeee.” Not an excuse, but how could you blame her? She gushed at the thought of his physique. Already wanting to touch him more.

After she had her moment of talking about how much Adam grew, and how much she loved what she saw, a twinkle of sadness shimmered in her eyes, “Adam hotness aside, I just don’t know why Wes hasn’t texted me today. He’s already pretty bad at it, but he at least text me once. I guess this was coming because I’ve been really insecure because of him.” Kylee threw the pillow to the side and huffed, “I already found out he was a news guy from Pinehurst from daddy and from then, I started to notice how little he wanted to share with me. What if Adam gets tired of me too?”

There it was. As always whenever Kylee began to feel a certain kind of way, it almost always boiled down to the same root cause. “I could’ve called that your dad had something to do with this.” As much as he had tried to convince her over the years, Roddy never could get Kylee to admit fully that her father was a bad guy, even if he knew that she knew, the words just never made it out of her mouth. “Look, it’s more than likely that your old man paid Wes to leave and drop whatever story he was chasing. You’re his precious, no one will ever be good enough for you, like ever. Hell, we’ve been friends for years and he doesn’t even know my name! If Wesley was keeping secrets from you, I guarantee your dad found out and told him to get out of your life. That’s how he operates and has always operated.”

Rod glanced at the antique clock on the wall and sighed, “Listen I have to take Rylie out but we need to do this again soon, bring my missing cousin too!… Adam not Bronagh. Less Bron in my life the better. Mad as a box of frogs that one,” He drifted off for a moment thinking of his crazy blonde cousin before returning his attention to Ky. “You gonna be ok?”

“Mm, yeah,” Kylee didn’t consider her father getting involved. She should’ve expected it when he told her to be careful this morning but she had hoped… “Oh my god! My daddy’s SPEECH! I FORGOT.” Kylee was now in full blown panic. That was probably why he was calling her. She was supposed to be with him for that. Did it even happen with the storm?! “Okay Roddy, I love you lots. You go have fun! I’ll call you next Monday. I want us to do this once a week. So Mondays. You give me Mondays and I’ll be a happy Kylee, got it?”

“Got it!” He nodded. “I also won’t be having fun. I’m dropping Rylie off then I’ve got PT. Somehow the therapists here are harsher than the ones in Boston.”

WAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!

The screams of the child echoed in the old wooden farm house and Roddy cocked an eyebrow. “Well that’s me being summoned. I love you too, Kylee. Be careful." He warned, before dismissing himself, “Roddy out!” With a big grin and wave, he turned off the call.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Kylee was up from the couch rushing to the dryer to pull out her clothes. As a precaution she definitely needed to be in her own clothes, who knows if her father wanted a video chat call. If he saw her in boy’s clothes, Adam’s no less, she'd be dead. Deceased. Six feet under.

Grabbing her clothes, she rushed to the bathroom and slammed it shut.

Speed, she had to be speed.

Quickly, as she started the water, Kylee dialed to call Wes.

Her call immediately went to voicemail.

“Hey, Wes? I hope you’re okay. I, um, I'm going to make this quick. I think it’s best we go our separate ways. I thought about it and I don’t want you to get hurt. It’s not like you’re that into me anyways! If you were you would’ve told me more about you, right? I really had a great time, you know that? You and me? We were a fun team. Kickass heroes. Total nerds. Maybe this doesn't need to be a goodbye. Maybe this could be a see you later? I hope so... anyways, stay safe, okay? And do know I really enjoyed your company. More than you’ll ever know. Oh and Wesley. I did love you, like a lot. Bleh! Okay, I'mma hang up now. See you...” her voice trailed off, dreading the thought of what her father might’ve said to Wes to get him to leave town. Biting her bottom lip, she hung up and placed her phone on the sink counter.

Shower.

Call daddy.

Deep in Edenridge woods, there sits a small body of water, a slaughter swamp, hard to find by anyone who didn’t already know where it was, being pounded on by the thunderous storm. Within its murky depths, a mass grave of bodies, its latest occupant? Wesley Silo was already being covered by the moss and the mud. His camera smashed against his chest and his phone drifting out of his open hand, the screen lit up with his missed calls: KAYLEE, 3 MISSED CALLS. DEX, 1 MISSED CALL. KYLEE 8 MISSED CALLS.

Battery dead.

Edenridge

_{Timestamp: After My Anchor
Location: The Osso's Main House}

____________________________________________________________________



____________________________________________________________________

Sitting in front of the Osso house, Lydia sat in her parked white 2018 Honda Accord gathering herself. It’s been months since she last saw Robert. Sure, they walked past each other in town and waved, but other than that, she avoided him. They had a messy past and she didn’t know how she’d react if he did that thing where he saw behind her mask and tried to get her to talk.

There was nothing to talk about.

They tried to date twice already and they both ended the same way where they mutually decided this wasn’t going to work, where they mutually decided the best route to happiness was protecting the other. Even if it was against her true desires. She knew he deserved better. Someone less broken. Someone that wouldn’t trigger his PTSD and make him feel more shitty than he already felt about himself. Someone not her.

Her most recent client, Theodora, reminded her so much of her younger self. A girl whose hand was forced because of the cards dealt to her. So much so that she didn’t get much sleep recently. Nightmares of her childhood friend, who should’ve known better, hanging herself from her fan, above her bed, leaving Lydia to pick up the broken pieces. Nightmares of her mother in her coffin, after she was shot to death from a domestic abuse call. Nightmares of her father never seeing how desperately she needed him to be a father. Nightmares of her bleeding out, needing a soldier to carry her because she didn’t know how much she could keep doing this. She didn’t know how much longer she could fight. Nightmares of Bobby putting a gun to his head because of his own trauma and her not being able to save him, like he’s saved her countless times. Nightmares.

If she was being honest with the kid, she’d tell her it doesn’t get better. One day, you will find a purpose, maybe you’ll seek to help people heal mentally, like she tried, maybe you’ll become a teacher, but whatever you choose, that was only a bandage to cover up your wounds. Novacaine to take away the overwhelming sensations, and promise you, you won’t feel a thing.

Her job gave her something to do, kept her busy. It was her way of quieting the beast because at least she was helping people that needed it. Really though, when you’re alone at night, with grief, loneliness, and pain, in an apartment too big for one person, drinking whiskey in hopes it’ll help you sleep, the demons creep their way back into your dreams. The throbbing migraine that is all your unresolved issues is simply a reminder that you’re not strong. You choose to ignore it because somehow, you’ve convinced yourself that is the best way to live. Lydia didn’t need a kiss goodnight. She didn’t need someone to constantly tell her things were going to be alright, She didn’t need anyone.

When I was scared, I would imagine myself building a wall around me. So big, so tall, and so incredibly strong. You do that too, Theo? It’s okay, it’s okay, I understand. Sometimes you need a wall to feel safe and you should not feel ashamed of that. It makes you tougher than other kids. A builder. And when you find people that have shown you they’re not going to hurt you, then that’s when you can bring them in, but until then, it’s okay to add more bricks. It’s okay to keep building because that makes you safe and so, so very strong. It makes you who you are and I think who you are is pretty cool.

Bringing her mind back to present, Lydia exited her car and dialed Sofia’s number. She looked toward the house and listened to the phone ring. “Okay, little shit, you better pick up.” Glancing up at the sky, she felt a little droplet on her cheek. When the insufferable teen that was a mini version of her best friend didn’t pick up, Lydia muttered to herself, “Fuck me.”

Meanwhile after putting a Power Ranger bandaid on her little Aurora’s right knee, she tripped playing tag with her brother and had just recovered from a meltdown, Clarissa smothered her daughter with kisses before releasing her. Aurora was quick to grab a small foam sword and hunt for Christian, like a knight ready to slay a dragon. Her dragon being her twin. Picking herself up from kneeling by the couch, Clari noticed a familiar white car outside. Peering through the curtains, Clarissa could see her friend trying to call someone. “Bobby, Lyds is here! I hope she’s okay. I’ll go see… oh nevermind, she’s coming to the door.”

Bobby was punching a hole through his training bag when Clari called his name. Lydia was at the door. Lydia was the first person Robert Osso met when he and his family arrived in Edenridge twenty years ago. The first time they encountered one another, the Osso family had just finished moving into their big house, Clari was baking cookies for the new neighbours with their mom and Sienna. Anthony, was only a baby at the time and was dozing to the dulcet sounds of their father asleep and snoring on the couch. The family was preoccupied which meant Bobby could go for a cigarette. He wondered at the time if Massachusetts convenience stores sold to minors like the ones back in New Jersey. He fled the house to explore the new neighbourhood, cancer-stick in hand when he bumped into a dark haired girl on the street, Lydia. She had been forever in his life from that moment forward.

In high school, Bobby's silence and new boy status initially made him a target for the strange elitists of Edenridge High. With clenched fists and a bitten tongue he stayed quiet. There was no reason to rock the boat. Then someone mocked Lydia and the loss of her friend. Emma Reed. That was enough for Robert to pick up the baseball bat that would soon become synonymous with his name and crack it over the head of Grayson Elliott. Some said it caused the young boy some brain damage, he was a stripper now going by the name Cinnamon and Robert earned the name Bobby Batters. Nobody messed with him or Lydia after that. She was his world.

When the war called his name, he made the decision to leave her behind, not one that he took lightly but definitely one he regretted making every single day of his life since. He wiped the sweat off of his arms and chest with a towel and pulled on a plain white tank. Why would Lyd’s be here? Maybe she picked Ricky up off the road, she would do stuff like that and he definitely owed that curly haired little fuck a kick in the ass for all that Sofia business. Making his way and joining his sister at the door, Bobby opened it swiftly to greet his old flame. “Hi.”

Lydia’s goal was to make this quick so she could return to Cat and keep her company. Lord knows the rest of their friends were driving her crazy. Lydia could only imagine how the sleepover was going, likely with Cat wanting some peace of mind and the rest of them wanting to party. That’s something she and Cat bonded over. Sure, they had their moments but compared to their friends, they seemed more put together. They were the sane ones, and that says a lot since Lydia and Cat found themselves drowning in booze every other day.

Harper always had some new stressful story about her family — the Quinns were infamous on Grove Street. Somehow they never failed to find new ways to fuck things up. Vanessa painted herself out to have the most perfect life with a loving husband, behaved children, and a flourishing business, but really she was a freak on a leash, settled too early and absolutely miserable for it. Then there was Brooke. Brooke would do anything to get ahead, even if it meant sleeping with a man she could care less about because he’s the one that puts money in her pockets. Compared to their friends, Cat and Lydia were goddamn saints, really just struggling with their self worth and trauma.

When Bobby answered the door, Lydia was taken aback by his stature and the sweat glistening on his skin. It’s been awhile since she gave herself an opportunity to look at him up close and personal and phew, he still looked hot as ever. That was not what she was here for. As much as she did appreciate his body, and his package, and everything else really, she was here with the sole purpose of getting Sofia out of deep shit. Well, more like lessening the blow because the moment Cat finds out, things might go nuclear. “Hi.”

Clarissa was quick to poke her head from behind her large and in charge big brother. “Lydia!!! It’s so good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too, Clari, and…” Lydia’s eyes — bright, bold, and beautiful — and the sweet hue of spring clover scanned up Robert’s body to meet his gaze, “Bobby.” Wrapping her arms around her, in a way where it looked like she was cold, but really she was hugging herself to keep it together (a coping mechanism Bobby knew well), Lydia gave her oh-so-professional smile and asked, not beating around the bush, “Is Sofia here? She texted me that she was.” There was a sinking feeling inside her that told her the little devil had tricked her, probably to save face.

Bobby knew every tell that Lydia had. The curse of twenty years of knowledge. He knew that she was uncomfortable around him in such ways, why did he answer the door like this? He knew what reaction he would get; Idiot. He had to salvage this meeting, the last thing Bobby wanted was for Lyds to be uncomfortable. The problem though was her last words about Sofia. What kind of shit had Ricky gotten into this time? He had a hard enough time over the years reigning Oz in from his wild tendencies, he didn’t need another weight on his shoulders in Ricky.

“She was,” The former Marine responded in his usual blunt tone. Luckily for him, in the same way he knew what Lydia’s body language meant, she knew exactly what his voice carried in it. “Apparently for a few days actually. We sent her home a little while ago, with Ricky and my mothers dog.” Bobby turned to look at his younger sibling who as usual had her head in the clouds. “Clari, go put the kettle on, grab me a shirt and call Andy, make sure he’s out of the way of this storm. Please?” Taking a step to one side, he let his pale blue eyes linger on Lydia for a moment before waving her inside. “Come in, we’ll figure this out.”

One didn’t refuse an invite from Bobby Batters. He had a commanding presence so when he said jump, you asked how high. Clari beamed brightly, excited for the company, “Will do! Oh and Lyds, I’m making cherry cobbler. You absolutely have to stay for dinner. Wouldn’t want you out in the storm anyways.” With that, Clarissa was quick to take her phone out to call her husband, and proceeded into the kitchen.

“No, no it’s fine. I think I know where she is,” Lydia quickly responded, glancing over her shoulder and seeing it hadn’t rain yet. This wouldn’t be the first time Sofi has done something like this and it always ended at the same place: at her grandparents. From the information that Bobby divulged, it was clear to Lydia that Sofia wasn’t handling the divorce well. Not because she didn’t want it to happen but with how much it’s been dragged out. If anyone witnessed Tommaso being abusive to Cat, it would be her, and as such Sofia did what Cat would do when she was a teen. Run away. Run from her problems and drown herself in whatever vice she had. Taking a step back, Lydia dismissed herself (the one person who wasn’t so obedient to Bobby’s demands), “My parents live a couple blocks away, I can get to them easy. I’m sure I can beat the storm.”

“Lydia,” Bobby tensed slightly. “Don’t be a fool. Come in the house before…” As if the Gods themselves were listening, the heavens opened above the pair of former lovers and they wept upon them. The downpour was heavy and sudden, like an overpowered faucet onto a marble sink. “You were saying? Come on, get in here.” Bobby took a hold of her arm firmly but not tightly. He would never hurt her. Never. He guided her into the Osso house and closed the door behind them. “Clari! We’re gonna need a towel and maybe some of your clothes!” Turning to face Lydia once more, he offered a smile, a rarity when it came to Robert Osso. “Go get dried off. I’ll be in the den.”

It was a good thing she didn’t believe in God because she’d be cursing him right then and now. She stopped believing after her mother died. As Bobby walked away, coming from the kitchen was not Clarissa, but Sissy with a towel. With a blank expression, she placed it on the other woman’s head. Lydia looked at the young woman in silence, before drying her hair and holding onto the towel.

When Bobby was gone, Lydia sighed in relief. The other Osso sister was quick to notice the slight motion and tilted her head, “Do you want a drink? And I don’t mean what Clari is making.”

“Yes, please,” Lydia whispered, not knowing how long she was going to last being under the same roof as her ex.

“He misses you,” Sienna assured. Her flat voice made her seem unamused but Lydia knew better. Lydia knew after the accident, Sissy would never feel the same or act the same, but she also knew that Sissy tried her hardest, everyday, to go about her life as if she understood what everyone was going through. She chose to handle the people she loved in a social pattern, closing in on any signs of emotion, whether through facial expression or action but that was because she had no choice. She couldn’t feel or at least, it took her a very long time to feel, so understanding what Bobby was going through right now and what Lydia was going through right now was beyond her. Still, she wanted to help.

Sissy was quick to notice the tension between her older brother and his ex lover. Any Osso could if they chose to watch. They’d been like this for years, not sitting down and talking things out. She wondered if her brother even wanted to. He still clearly cared for the woman and yet, they chose to stay apart. The accident gave her a new perspective in things, thinking back when Astrid was uncertain if Sissy even cared about her. When there is a complete void of emotion, it makes you appreciate what you once had and try to make sure that person knows you’d choose them again and again and again, even if you couldn’t show it. She missed the days when she was angry, sad, happy, and all other emotions in between. It’s easier to hurt someone’s feelings when you aren’t aware of how you even feel, so she chose to focus on how everyone else felt and act accordingly.

The thing about her brother and his old flame was, they felt too deeply. Overwhelmed by their own grief, anger, and pain, they chose to look inward instead of what was right in front of them. Sissy hoped one day they could try again and this time, stick it out. They both were strong people who deserved someone to hold them when they couldn’t hold themselves. Them together always made sense. Sadly, sometimes things that were meant to be, never be.

Lydia didn’t know what Sissy wanted her to say to that. To the fact that Robert missed her. Instead of saying anything, Lydia gave a quiet smile. It didn’t take Sissy too long to get the message. Lydia wasn’t someone who easily admitted her feelings. There were only two people capable of getting her to talk and that was the man waiting for her in the den and Caterina Belmonte.

Nodding to Lydia, Sissy took a step back to give her space, “You know where Clari’s room is. I’ll make sure you have a drink waiting for you with my brother.” When Sissy walked away, in the same direction of the den, Lydia stared up at the ceiling. Her day was about to take a turn for the worse. She could feel it.

In time, she was changed into Clari’s white tank, pink plaid pajama pants, and brown knitted cardigan sweater. Taking a deep breath in, mentally preparing herself, Lydia knocked on the door and cracked it open, exhaling while doing so. “Good to come in?” Why was she asking? Of course she was good to come in. He had told her so. Her anxiety was sitting in her throat and every step she took she became more and more cautious. More and more aware of her situation. This was so unbecoming of her.

“Yeah come on in,” Bobby sat in the red velvet chair by the fireplace, his lips pressed against his knuckles as he stared deep into the flame. He had covered himself with a simple black-T-shirt with the logo for his company, Iron Resolve on the left breast. His arms were still bulging out of the top but he couldn’t do anything about that. Bobby had learned a lot about himself whilst he was in the serve and one of those was that training and fitness were perfect tools for keeping the voices in his head at bay.

He watched as Lydia gingerly entered the room and took a seat opposite him. The world had changed. Years ago, this very room looked no different but the kids inside it, Bobby and Lydia, they were different. When they were young, they would fool around on the couch, drink Vincent’s classic scotch and eat Capri’s famed lasagne. Now they were adults, with demanding jobs and trauma by tank load.

Before Robert could say another word, the door of the den swung open a second time and instepped a dark haired beauty clad in nothing but her black panties and blue tank. She carried a tray with several glasses on it and smiled at the pair. “Une sélection de boissons savoureuses pour vous deux,” She spoke in romantic French with a flawless accent before placing the tray down between them. Her moss coloured eyes fell upon Lydia for a moment, surveying her up and down before turning to Bobby with a grin.

“I have no idea what you just said, Astrid.”

“I said,” All of a sudden, the woman’s voice shifted into that of a born and bred American. “A selection of tasty beverages for you both. Broaden your horizons Bobby, God!” Astrid leaned up and placed her hands on her hips. “By the way, Sienna just got in touch with your Dad. He and Oz are at the office. Andy is at his store. The only Osso’s not accounted for are Ricky and the mutt. Ok, you two have fun. Au revoir!” She exclaimed before turning on her heel and sashaying away, slamming the door behind her.

“What a weird creature she is. Sorry about her. That woman is supposed to be a lawyer.”

Lydia was stunned for a moment, not because she didn’t know Astrid. No, but more so seeing Astrid outside of her professional mask. Three months ago, Sissy had come by Edenridge Family Studies & Clinic to introduce Astrid to her. Since she only had ten minutes to spare before her next client came in, they kept things short and simple. It warmed Lydia’s heart to think Sissy wanted to show off her girlfriend to her, like she was a little kid with a new toy and that toy was all hers. A smile rose on Lydia’s face when the beautiful french woman sauntered off, confident as can be.

Relaxing, Lydia reached for a glass and got comfortable by the fire, curling her legs on the couch as she leaned on the arm rest. “I think she’s kind of refreshing,” Lydia took a sip of her drink, resting her gaze on her ex. Since she was going to be stuck here for however long, she might as well make the most of it.

Come what may.

Her eyebrow rose when she felt her phone vibrate. Keeping her glass in one hand, she pulled it out to see a text from Sofia. She rolled her eyes and made a tsk sound of disapproval, “Ricky and Nduja are at the cafe, and Sofi is with Danny at Taz’s,” Once she tossed her phone to the side, she clasped her hand back on the glass, now holding the scotch with both hands, and shook her head, “Knowing her, she probably wanted me to distract you,” Lydia gently chuckled. God, Sofia was so much like Cat, it was scary sometimes. “Is it working? Are you distracted?” She lightheartedly teased.

“You always distract me,” Bobby spoke through his knuckles before lowering his arm to reach for a drink himself. “So we’re assuming then that Sofi sent you to stop me from kicking Ricky’s ass for hiding her in our basement for three days. Clever girl, reminds me a lot of Cat when we were in high school.” He picked up the crystal glass and brought the sweet Scottish malt to his lips. Nectar from the Gods. Bobby didn’t drink much now. He was trying to cut out potential triggers as agreed with his therapist. Although alcohol was something he could enjoy, too much made him sensitive to outside stimuli and all it could take was one sound that was but a touch too loud and that would be it. “How is Lolly?”

“She’s… coping the best she can,” Lydia glanced away from her friend, staring into the fire. “I’ll ask her tomorrow how therapy went.” The fireplace brought a dancing glow to the room, as she deeply stared into it, getting lost in the crackling flame. “I think she’ll be okay. She doesn’t ever want to talk about that day, but I can see her. She’s restless. I’m sure Shannon will have a breakthrough soon. I just know it.”

Every morning Lydia visited her family home, and every morning she surveyed the changes, no matter how small. While Lolly couldn’t tell herself, constantly drowning in video games, the fact that she actually came out of her room this morning to say hello was a big improvement. Like she wanted to move and see someone, even if that someone was just her sister. “How about you?” Lydia sipped onto her drink and then leaned forward to place her glass down on the table, “The family? Is everything running smoothly in Ossoland?”

“Same as it ever was. Dad and Oz running the world. Sienna fixing their paperwork. Clari has been working hard on lesson plans…” Bobby trailed off for a second as he thought about his own life and what he was up to. “Hunter and I just landed a new contract for this new hotel they’re building. They want us to prepare the security for it. We’ll make some good money out of that.” Small talk. God he hated small talk. Well, in reality Bobby hated all talk. Speaking was not his thing. “I would ask you about work but I know, doctor patient confidentiality,” Bobby placed his glass back down onto the counter and looked towards his ex, fighting every fiber of his being and trying to keep their time together courteous and civil. “Twenty years last week I landed here. Time hasn’t flown like they say it does.”

“You think so?” Lydia crossed her arms once more, locking her green eyes with his blue. “I think time went by too fast, seeing how the best years of my life are already gone.” She didn’t expect a reply, if anything, she would rather sit in silence. Something they both were good at doing. Keeping her wall up, not showing any signs of her thoughts beyond this point, she sighed to herself. Deciding it was time to change gears before someone gets hurt, she asked, “Want to watch a movie? I’m going to be here for a while.”

“Sure,” Bobby grabbed the tv remote from the table and tossed it over to his guest before leaning back into his chair. Watching a movie would be a good way to distract themselves from all the unspoken words that they couldn’t say but wished they could. That was their relationship now. Civil. Mature. Unspoken. “Whatever you’d like. Except the Sandlot. We watched that so many times when we were dating that I legitimately have it ingrained into my brain…” As he said the words, he could see the big puppy dog eyes that she was giving him. She hadn’t changed really and maybe he hadn’t either..

“Fine, we can watch Sandlot.”

Edenridge

_{TIMESTAMP: After A Little Bit of Rain
FT: Rocky & Freckles}

____________________________________________________________________


____________________________________________________________________

Shannon had picked a terrible day not to use her car for work.

Hurrying through the torrential downpour, the doctor knew that she wasn’t going to make it back to Westwood before the Police cordoned off the roads. This sort of weather rolled in every so often, so lifetime inmates of Edenridge had experienced this sort of thing at least a few times in their lives. She was going to need to find a place to hang tight until the all clear was bestowed upon them. Luckily for Shannon, a shining beacon of light sat at the end of the street, illuminated in the dark.

The Hole in the Wall.

Making her way inside, she had a quick look around to see that the bar itself was empty save the lone bartender, Gary. Shannon was soaking wet; her pristine business suit was heavy on her shoulder from absorbing all the rain and her short pencil skirt was feeling terribly uncomfortable at that moment. The bar counter was shining from a recent wipe down and the cinema board that hung above it displaying the latest in craft beer goodness. Gary had outdone himself with this latest batch. He had a way about him to make breweries trust him in getting their brand out there even though Eden was a small market,

“Hey Gar, you stuck too? Least you’re not alone now,” Shannon smiled as she sat down in a booth nearby. She could see her daughter’s name scratched into the wooden table and a little smile crossed her face. The Hole was one of Mei’s haunts; one of her safe places. She knew her youngest put up a brave front and had this aura about her that relayed strength but the truth of the matter was Mei had struggled for a very long time and still struggled to this day. It was sad that nobody else really knew that. “I’ll get a Hazy Jane, pint please? And I guess I’ll start a tab, looks like I’ll be here a while.”

After peeling off her wet jacket to reveal a nice white shirt, the therapist swung her long toned legs to the outside of the booth and took out her cell. She hit up her speed dial and called her husband, Will. “Hey bubba, where are you?….You’re stuck at the Dojo? I figured you would be. Me? I managed to get to the Hole. Have you spoken to the girls? Are they safe?…Reagan’s at the clinic and Mei is out partying. Figures. Ok baby, stay safe and I’ll see you soon ok? Love you,” Hanging up just in time for her beer to arrive, she sighed in relief to know her family was safe. Taking a nice long sip of the tasty beverage, the raven haired woman let out a content moan.

Her earlier session with Lolly had gotten her feeling a bit nostalgic. Shannon thought back to when she was younger and her life was oh so very different. She was a smart woman, she knew how people saw her. Strong, independent, successful. She wondered what the Shannon of the past, the one that grew up on the Southside, would think of who she turned into?

Entering the Hole, after dropping Clay off, soaked in his officer attire, Sly calmly soothed the person on the other line, waving at Gary and immediately noticing the woman by her lonesome self in a booth, “The Reservation? Well, at least she’s not going to be in the storm. You know how Pops gets. This is likely part of her trying to find herself again. I’m sure she’s not alone. She isn't? See. She has Mordechai and Jade. Anyways, I’ll be at the Hole until things lighten up. Just wanted to make sure you were good.”

Before taking a seat beside the woman, he mouthed to the bartender at a distance, “Water, please.” Finishing his phone call, he lovingly said in hushed tones, “Please, take your meds. I’ll be home as soon as I can.” There was a brief pause, as he unbuttoned his collar, water dripping from his hair, and then he assertively reminded his wife: “Love you, Victoria. Rest well.” When the line went dead, Sly heavily exhaled out and pocketed his phone. Turning to the woman next to him, he gave a warm smile, “Looks like I’m not the only one stuck. It’s good to see you, Shannon.”

She could count every time that she had seen Sylvester James soaking wet. It was a skill. The way his uniform clung to his hulking frame reminded her of days she recalled being wonderful. Those days were long gone though. “Hey Rock,” Shannon greeted with her typical wry smile as she offered up her drink in salute before taking a sip. “Glad to see you’re still on the water. Proud of you.” In a past life, if one looked in that very same booth twenty some years ago they would see the same two people that sat there now, except they weren’t upstanding citizens and pillars of their community. Shannon and Rocky were trailer trash. “You finishing up for the night?”

“Yeah, Chief’s orders,” Sly admitted, knowing if his boss didn’t tell him to go home, he’d likely still be working and he knew well enough Clay was going to work off the clock, as much as Sly advised him not to. There was a lot of him he saw in his partner, especially when a case hit this deep. It was then Sly noticed he chose to sit next to her instead of across from her. He could apologize for overstepping, they weren’t kids anymore, or he could go with it and act like it wasn’t a big deal.

It was just her, him, and a bartender.

He had a long day and being next to someone he still considered a great friend put his body at ease. Shannon was good at that. Easing his worries simply by being. “How ‘bout yourself?” He knew the answer already. This was Shannon Ling. The girl who put her pursuits before anything else. Her family was everything to her, but her career? Her mission to save souls in Edenridge, that surpassed her desire to be a rock for her family. She chose to be a rock for everyone else, just like him. They truly were two peas in a pod. And Sly was happy for her and how much she flourished, without his support. Sly couldn’t be any prouder.

“Yeah,” Shannon nodded. “For some reason I decided to do house calls today and absolutely forgot to check the weather forecast. Left the car at home didn’t I?” The therapist glanced over at the bartender idly on their phone. “Can we get some wings?” Gary nodded and headed to the back whilst the Ramsey matriarch returned her dark gaze to her former childhood boyfriend. “If we’re gonna be stuck here we might as well eat,” She mused. “What’s your day been like?”

“Just been investigating the new letter,” Sly shrugged and reached for his glass of water, leisurely taking a sip. “I already know who’s behind it, but this isn’t my case to solve. It’s my partner’s.” Placing the water down, Sly leaned back in his chair and returned his gaze to the beautiful woman next to him, “Maybe he’ll get the closure he needs about David. Something I wasn’t able to give to the band. With Ronan, I mean.” Sly plays back that night with his brothers quite often and how Rusty went to the ends of the Earth to avenge his caretaker, the Witch at Hanging Hill, or to them, Ms. Tallulah. The sweetest lady that ever existed. How she went was horrible but how he went afterwards was worse.

As much as he and Teddy didn’t talk anymore, it was Teddy that finished the serial killer off while Sly watched Rusty lose all light in his eyes, giving his last breath in his arms. If they knew what he and his brothers knew, their demons would be a lot harder to take down. Joni and Sean were prime examples of people that ran away from their demons. James committed suicide, but there were so many things that led to that point, like the fire at the church. If there was anyone that kept his head above water the best, it was Will and that was likely thanks to this woman right here. An anchor. “You know, there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think of him.”

“He’s been on my mind lately, a lot of stuff has,” Shannon leaned back in her seat and realised a sign from deep within her chest. “Since Charlie, I’ve seen more and more kids struggle to walk that line that all of us born here do. I’ve seen them fall and hurt. I’ve seen them bleed, God Rock. Ronan was the catalyst. Him going like he did, it pushed a lot of pain to the surface. Without that night, James doesn’t go the way he did and maybe Charlie would’ve had a fair shot.”

She reached out and placed her hand on top of his. Sylvester always kept his pain close, except for Shannon. She always knew how to scale that particular wall. “You know, I see Teddy on the tv and at his rallies and I think to myself, I remember the real boy. The boy with the stutter and those piece of shit parents that used to lock him in the basement for weeks with no food. The boy that did all those things we can never say. He worshipped Rusty. That boy still lives in his eyes.”

“As I’m sure he lives in all those he’s impacted. A ghost is what we want it to be, Freckles,” Sly turned his hand over to hold onto her’s, a moment between him and her, and no one else, “A wish, a want, a desire, or just a reason to keep living. For me, Rusty is a reminder that I still got a lot of work ahead of me.” Come rain or shine, Sly had to keep fighting in Rusty’s honour but also for himself and the town. He was living proof that you could be more than the circumstances that surround you. He was living proof that no matter the hardship, there’s always a way out of the dark tunnel. He was living proof that the dark doesn’t always steal the light, you just have to be willing to fight.

Freckles. Shannon hadn’t heard that in so long, at least not in the way she always remembered. She and Rocky, on warm summer nights sitting atop his trailer. Reaper and Rooster were probably arguing about who could win some kind of fight. Rusty would be surveying it all like the king from the couch that sat in front of the Henley’s trailer. James and Sean were out scoping tail. Ronnie and Joni were likely just vibing to whatever record she had gotten her hands on that week. A paradise. A vision in gold. The life and times of the Southside.

“James' mental health was already shit. He turned to God afterwards, but the fire? Can’t really say Rusty’s murder led to that. As much as we want to thread all these fucked up things together, sometimes the best way to move forward is to accept you had no control. Nothing we could’ve said or done would’ve stopped him, just how nothing Poppy could’ve said or done could’ve saved Charlie. I’ve mulled it over a bit, and it really fucks you up when you think you’re the reason someone you loved is dead. Charlie is dead because of me. I get that.”

He let the heaviness of his words linger in the air as he gave Shannon his undivided attention. Thankfully not many people were here to eavesdrop. “I shot that boy dead, I wasn’t thinking, but at that point he had already killed so many people and in the heat of the moment, I was driven by instinct. Nothing else. Rusty? He was a dead man walking. He knew he was going to die. That trip to Maine just made it a lot sooner than we all expected.”

“96 sucked as a year overall.” Shannon intertwined her fingers with his. “Except the summer, that summer was the best.” Nostalgia filled her eyes and a smile crept upon her face. She brushed a strand of her black hair behind her ear as she fell into remembrance. “Do you remember that summer Rock? Teddy dragged us to that party on Scott Street at…God whose house? Tell me if you remember, and when we arrived we watched in sheer horror as April McMahon, butt naked, sang Madonna to…that guy, what was his name? Help me out here!” She giggled.

Jeez she was bringing him back. The summer of ‘96. The calm before the storm. Before Rusty died, before the Gallows broke up, before Reaper and Rooster accepted their demons, full heartedly, and before Sly became an alcoholic. The summer that at the time felt like it could last forever, or maybe it was just him, maybe he wanted things to last forever. Some moments made them all feel infinite, that summer was the last time they experienced such carefree freedom. How limitless they all felt.

“Dick. His name was Dick,” Sly said rather openly and bluntly. Now that his mind was in the vaults of the past, he couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of it all. “Leave it to April McMahon to find a guy named Dick Bonner. Fuck, why do I even remember that?”

“To be fair to April, none of us knew she was manic depressive with borderline personality disorder at the time. We just thought she was a slut,” Shannon’s eyes widened as she let go of Sly’s hand only to put it in his shoulder. “No, wait, don't you remember? Dick Bonner was his party name! It was Ritchie Davies! We were at the Davies house!” The Asian beauty leaned into her old flame with a huge grin as Gary brought them wings but both were too lost in their conversation to notice. “Alistair was trying to hook up with April but Ritchie got their first.” Shannon’s eyes narrowed as she looked at the large man she was with and tilted her head. “I also seem to remember someone going all alpha because someone called me that little yellow bitch?”

She was getting all cute and teasing him. Looking down at Shannon who grinned up at him, Sly chuckled, “It didn’t help that was the same night you were giving Will eyes, while he was singing Bushido.” And to think, Will got the girl in the end because Sly was a mess and had too much dirty laundry. He really did miss this. How easy it all felt when he was around her but they both had their own families and their own responsibilities. Perhaps in another life, they’d be together but it certainly wasn’t this one. Quickly diverting the route of the story, while saving face, Sly reached for his water and before he took a sip, he complimented, “You haven’t aged at all, you still look just as good as you did that summer.”

“It’s my little yellow bitch skin. My Mom was the same. We have flawless skin until we hit fifty then I’ll end up looking like a bulldog's ass,” She shuffled away slightly, allowing him space to drink. “But thank you, Rock. You’re not too bad yourself, especially in uniform.” Before the trouble that tore them and their friends apart, playfulness was always a part of Shannon and Sylvester’s relationship. It was strange how easy one could slip back into former roles in the presence of old friends. “Are you doing good though?“ Her tone shifted a bit more seriously. “You know, do you need anything? Does she?”

“Who? Poppy? My wife?” Sly placed the glass down once more and shifted his body toward her. He’d like to think Poppy was doing good, thanks to Shannon, or at least as good as she’ll be until she’s able to let Charlie go. As for Victoria? Was she ever good? There was always something and he’d hate to admit to his ex that there was trouble in paradise, ever since Charlie’s journal got stolen.

Victoria was a bit more unhinged, like Charlie knew something about her that not even Sly knew. Sly didn’t want to think like that though, not with a woman he promised to take care of for the rest of his life. Still, he knew she had her secrets, he had his too. He just didn’t want to open that Pandora's box and hurt Poppy in the process, so it was best he kept things the same. At least until Poppy saw a future again.

Sometimes it was incredibly difficult for Shannon to switch off her therapist head. It was always that way. Even when they were kids. She had a habit of meddling because she thought she knew best. It made a lot of people hate her. “I mean all of the above,” She used a tone that Sylvester James knew all too well. He had heard this voice way too many times over the course of thirty years. “Will and I are always here to help out. In anything and you know that but don’t play the fool; it doesn’t suit you. Does SHE need anything?”

Shannon was too smart for him. No matter how much he’d like to dodge talking about certain topics, Shannon slammed her fist on the door over and over until he opened it. “No, she’s good. Just restless. But can you blame her? We’ve put her in a box all because our dead friend told us to protect her. Y’know your daughter sees her practically everyday, since Sybil has been teaching her how to handle the register. Thank Christ I had you girls. I was afraid she’d grow up with no education, but she’s so smart. It’s a shame no one knows she exists but us. She’s also a spitting image of him, it’s unreal…” Sly was back to reminiscing about his best friend. That strikingly red hair that made him, him. “You should visit her sometime. I’m sure she’d love to see you,” Sly lightly suggested.

“Maybe I will. When next my schedule lightens I’ll make it a point,” Shannon hated her role in this secret. As a psychologist, an intelligent and logical human being, what they were doing was absolutely insane but they made that mistake when they were kids and they had to commit to it, no matter how much the world around them changed. Shannon was a happily married mother of two, with kids she adored and a husband she worshipped and it killed her dead to hide anything from them.

As if written by the fates, Witch Shit by Gallows began to play in the Hole and Shannon burst into a fit of laughter. She covered her mouth to try and stifle it. “I mean that’s just ridiculous,” The befreckled beauty chuckled. “We’re talking about that and this song comes on. I mean, Mei preaches the ways of Hecate but this is just silly. Gary is fucking with us. He always was a little turd.”

It wasn’t the coincidence of Witch Shit playing that made Sly smile widen. It was seeing Shannon laughing and being carefree. He knew her well and moments like these were so rare. He hadn’t laughed like that in a long while, not since that one dinner with him, Vicky, Max, Pops, Charlie, and Rhonda. A moment that was now a story but when it was happening, in that moment, they all felt limitless. Infinite. Happy. With the mention of his secret, Sly asked out loud, as if Rusty himself would give him permission to move on, “Do you think we should… tell them? All of them? If she is very much like…” He sighed to himself, not used to the amount of grief he was experiencing every time he mentioned Rusty, “I don’t know how much longer she’ll wait for us to give her permission. She’s a witch, after all. They do their own thing. They do Witch Shit.”

“Oh booooo,” She stuck her tongue out. She glanced out at the bow raging storm. Flashes of lighting illuminating in the rain and bouncing off the old limestone buildings of old Edenridge. Witches. Magic. A tradition and an institution in the old Massachusetts town. A favoured topic of Ronan for whatever reason. A passion her baby girl MeiMei shared with who probably would’ve been her godfather. Shannon was a woman of science and logic. She didn’t believe in spells but on some occasions, she did have to wonder. “I don’t know, maybe,” She responded. “If we do, we gotta be smart about it. If it comes out the wrong way, hell will come to town and you and your badge won’t be able to stop it.”

Polishing off her beer, Mrs. Ramsey flagged Gary down for another. She stared into the empty pint glass, looking at her reflection. She returned to her earlier self imposed question; what would her younger self think of her now? Sitting in a bar, with her ex, dredging up secrets best left in days gone by. Would she be proud?

“You owe me five dollars by the way. I loaned you it for the fair in 95 and I haven’t seen it since. Typical trailer trash.”

“And where is my lucky coin? I let you use it for that mathlete shit and you never gave it back. Probably threw it in the goddamn lake after we broke up, which I’d like to think was on amicable terms.” They were children. When they were around each other it was like they were kids again, always finding a reason to have playful banter.

Speaking of playful things, Sly snapped his finger and was quick to slide the wings in front of him, “Joni’s coming to town. Uncle Eddie had a scare, so if we’re doing this, we need to do this when she’s here. Who knows how long she’ll be here. Do you know when Sean is coming back?”

“You’d know better than me Rock, you literally work with his kid,” Shannon took a drink from her pint and rested her head on Sly’s broad shoulder. “As for your coin, pretty sure Reagan ate it as a baby. Will has a tremendous talent for leaving crap all over the house. Mei sadly inherited that trait. I have so many tea bags filled with her witch shit all over my nice house and she doesn’t even live with us!” She closed her eyes and listened to the mixed sounds of the storm, Gallows on the radio and Rocky demolishing the legendary Hole in the Wall hot wings with the secret sauce passed from Cleary to Cleary. Her mind drifted to those summer days that they had talked about and the secrets locked away in them. Time enough to last.

“You’re still a fucking pig, Rock.”

“And you’re still a goody good. What? Afraid to get a little dirty? Sly teasingly brought his saucy hand to her face.

Shannon’s dark eyes widened and her gorgeous face transformed into a grimaced horror show. “Sylvester James, you come anywhere near me with that hand I am going to release our prom pictures to the public and get my husband to kick your ass.” Pointing her finger directly between his eyes, she tilted her head with authority. “I mean it, Will will brave this storm and spin kick your sidearm straight up your nose.” Mei had to get it from somewhere right?

Her response was rewarded with an eyeroll, as he pulled his hand back and grabbed another wing. “Look at me, I’m fancypants Shannon married to badass karate king Will. The Shannon I knew would’ve roundhouse kicked me herself,” Sly mocked his beloved ex, before winking at her. Bringing his attention to his almost gone plate of wings, he grumbled, “Fuck, you’re right. I am a pig.”

DWS [SHELVED UNTIL BETTER TIME]

- snipped -

DWS [SHELVED UNTIL BETTER TIME]

____________________________________________________________________

| Introducing | Professor Eliana "Timekeeper" Crowne & Illuria Lovelace
| Time | 12:05 PM
| Location | John Carrington Science Building

____________________________________________________________________

"Mommmmmmm," Illuria Lovelace grimaced as her mother, the Professor for all things Physics (Gifted and not), cleaned a smudge off her cheeks, like she was a child. "We gotta' stop this or people are going to make fun of me!" Ria protested, looking around the Science building lobby. One day, this was going to catch up to her and she'd get bullied, just like she was in highschool, and middle school, and grade school.

Eliana pulled back when her daughter scrunched her nose in objection. The doting mother hooked her thumbs in her pants pockets in hopes that would prevent her from coddling her youngest, "I know, I know. Sorry." Clearing her throat, she glanced out the glass entrance to see the club fair at a distance. "So you're going right?"

"Uh," Ria went to the door and rested her forehead on the cold glass. She saw the long trek ahead and all the people already gathering. She didn't want to go. She didn't want to have to smile and pretend to have a good time. Why was it so important to build her resume or network with her classmates? Why couldn't she just go to the Clocktower, her own sanctuary, and hideout, away from it all? "Yeah... I thought if I didn't, you'd be upset. I would rather not but grandma wouldn't like me wasting this opportunity. You know how she is: Opportunities are usually dressed in—"

"—everyday clothes and if it feels like work, then it's something worth pursuing. Yepp, I know baby."

Ria deeply sighed, hoping she was dressed to her peers standards, which she probably wasn't. She was wearing an overall skirt with a black choker necklace and smoky eyeshadow. Her hair was unruly and untamed as per usual and she wore ankle socks with black low top converse sneakers. Her style, when she wasn't going to fancy events with her family, was still relatively childish. "I hope there's like no fashion police here, I'm comfortable and I'd hate being judged because of that."

Unable to keep her hands away from comforting her daughter, Eliana reached for Ria's shoulders and shifted the young girl to look at her. Her little Dream Catcher. "I know this can be scary but I promise you the sooner you make friends, the better off you'll be. When you surround yourself with good people. Positive people. Nothing else matters. I don't want you to be afraid to get yourself out there, okay? You're young, Ria, go have fun. I'm sure you're going to find your people. The ones that center you. And like time, nothing can stop you from moving forward, right baby? You, Illuria Crowne Lovelace, were born to be a hero."

"You totally stole that from Uncle's email," Ria said matter-of-factly.

"Oh hush," Ellie chuckled, giving Ria a quick kiss on the forehead. "Okay get going before it gets too crowded and you feel claustrophobic. My suggestion is, start with the music club! I hear the people in charge are throwing a party later."

Playfully rolling her eyes, Ria pulled away from her mother, "I would hope so, ma. It's all over the Gram." With that, the young Crowne pushed the glass doors and took her exit.

As she walked away, she shuttered in cringe when her mother called out: "Go get 'em baby!"

Ria swiftly looked around her, hyper-focusing in all the students walking by her. Hiding her blushing face with her long curly hair, Ria sped walked to the Fair.

Please be quick... please be quick... please be quick...