#like i’m sure when your parents were applying to colleges bu did not have the reputation that it does now

[kamipyrifolia]

i hope my roommate realizes a) she does not need to get into a prestigious college to be a successful doctor and b) she’ll get into a college?? like she is like. the average american student she’s not doomed because she’s got a few b’s on her transcript

[rightonchime]

Glint: Chapter 1

tw:// childhood trauma

“You don’t have to do this, you know?”

Her words echoed through my mind as I packed a suitcase. Clearly, I do. It’s the only way I’m going to get my way.

“Mom,” I spoke, finally, in what seemed like the first time in ages, “Just go.”

Her worried look turned even more downward. Her eyes seemingly began to sizzle as her brow furled. “Dad just wants what’s best. Why can’t you go to a normal college like a normal teenager?”

“Normal?,” my voice cracked. “I wanted to go to a school to learn how to write better. I wanted to go to a nice college. After he talked me out of even attempting to apply to any of those, now he just wants me to go to a community college if I insist on going to any college. He told me I was likely to just drop out anyway, so I didn’t need to even try. He has no faith in me. You have no faith in me. So, instead, I applied somewhere away from here, away from both of you. Something that sounded fun.”

She shifted her body into a more demanding presence. “Fun doesn’t pay the bills. Fun doesn’t keep you from living in a cardboard box. You’re choosing to throw your life and money away. I can’t even talk to you right now, I’m so mad.”

I turned away from her and continued loading things into a bag. She stopped speaking for a moment and suddenly stormed out of my room as I continued packing clothes, belongings, trinkets, and everything else relevant. I made sure to pack my roleplaying game books, trading card binders, deckboxes, and bags of dice.

With a deep sigh, I look in the mirror. “I’m just glad I was accepted somewhere. The Glim Game Academy is going to be great.”

Glim Game Academy, or GG for short, isn’t a normal school. Instead of focusing too much on the normal academia, it caters to those looking to create games. As a writer, nothing sounds more awesome than learning how to create a perfect narrative. It was either this, or the cookie-cutter basic math and geography that every other fresh-out-of-college kid gets. I decided to try something unique.

My parents don’t get it. My mom dropped out of school and my dad got a degree in basic business. But, the world has changed around them. They think I’m a deadbeat for deciding to learn about games. But, that’s what I want to do. I don’t want to grow up to be like them; hating their jobs, hating their lives. They grew up into hateful, angry adults that control each other and me, since they have no control over anything else.

The plan is to catch a ride to the bus station, since they won’t drive me. I bought my bus ticket already in advance. Everything is a-go. Hm. I know I sat my bus ticket on my dresser. Now, where is it? Since they wouldn’t help, I spent everything in my bank account to buy that ticket. I can’t lose it. It’s my only ticket out of this situation.

“Mom?” I called out. “Have you seen my bus ticket?” I stepped out of my room, only to watch as my dad was using a lighter on something in his hand: MY BUS TICKET.

“What are you doing?!” I yelled.

“We’re saving you from yourself,” my mom said, sternly. “Obviously, you need it. You can’t handle it out there and your decisions have shown us how true that is”

“You need to learn how to run a business,” my dad adds, “like I did. You’re a child and we only want what we feel is best for you. Can’t you see that?”

I was too late. The ticket burned and crinkled, small embers blowing in the air conditioning. Tears running down my face, I turned around and slammed my bedroom door, locking it. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t process why they would do this. I know why. If I’m not here, they can’t control every facet of my life anymore. They wouldn’t have their talons in me anymore.

I sat at the desk in my room, looking at the bag that I had packed that held a lot of my gaming stuff. I pulled a deck box out. It was red, made of plastic, and held a lot of cards in it, even when they were sleeved.

A logo for the brand that made it has since worn off. Faded, illegible words are all that remain. The box is one of the cheap kind that open on top. The roof of the box opens and closes on a crappy hinge. I ran my fingers over the textured, scarlet exterior. It has a slight bump to the entire box, not unlike the tip of a finger. I trace my own finger along it.

In my anger, the red seemingly looked more vibrant than it usually does. Maybe I don’t stare so intently at it usually? Maybe my tears have blurred my vision? Maybe the light in the room is just reflecting on it more than normal. I don’t know.

I don’t know what came over me, but I felt the need to open the box and look at the cards inside. I know what’s inside. It’s a deck of sixty cards, double-sleeved. I know every detail about this deck. This was Charms and Creatures, one of the more popular games out there.

CNC made its mark a long time ago as being a fantastic card game, which eventually spun out into various other media. I’ve seen it in so many forms at this point, that I couldn’t tell you my favorite. Even though it’s always set in the same world, different games utilize different strategies and strengths.

No one knows who made it originally. But, I know several alumni of GG have had their hands in working on it. I reached with both hands to open the small, hefty deck box. As I did, the red of the box felt even brighter, almost glowing. Was I just imagining things? Obviously.

As the box began to open, there was a knock at my door. I stopped for a moment. “Can I come in?” My mom spoke softly, “I just want to talk.”

I ignored her. She continued to knock. I opened the deck box all the way. A feeling of content poured over me. I pulled the deck out and shuffled it. The backs of the card sleeves had one of the old CNC logos on it, with a violet and magenta color scheme. After shuffling, I sat the deck facedown on the desk. Knock, knock, knock, the door rattled yet again. “Please,” she said through the door, “We’re sure this is the best way for you.”

I closed my eyes. I didn’t notice that my hand had slid to the deck to pull the top card. I flipped it over to face me and I opened my eyes. Surely, it was just some sort of basic card that I was holding. Surely, I’m not staring at my bus ticket in my hand. What the absolute heck?

I watched that ticket burn. My parents stole it and destroyed it. Am I crazy? That’s the ticket, alright. I can’t believe it. I shouldn’t believe it. I gasped incredulously.

Once I figured out my composure again, I looked at the deck that this came off of and realized that it doesn’t have the sleeve on it. How? How did this happen? I read the information on the ticket. Something felt off about it. My ticket was for 3:00 PM today. As it’d be impossible to make it to the bus station by three now, this one seems to have that particular part slightly smudged and unreadable.

I kept quiet as my mom continued to knock at the door and turn the doorknob. I needed to figure out a plan before my parents think of removing the door from the hinges. “Just go,” I shouted. “I need time to myself!”

She sounded relieved to hear my voice. “Okay, I get it. It’s been a hard day. I’ll check on you for dinner. We can talk about it all then.” I could hear her walking away from the door, down the short hallway.

This is my chance. I stuffed the deck back into its red deckbox, now seemingly a duller red than before, and put it back in the bag that it came from. I hoisted every bag out my window, one by one. This part is going to suck.

I made my way to the bus station. It wasn’t a far trek, but it felt like I was walking to GG by foot with everything I brought with me. The original plan was to catch some sort of ride share with this much stuff, but I didn’t want them to know I was gone. I just had to suffer a little longer.

My parents have been controlling and abusive my entire life. I wanted to attend some sort of university or premier college so I didn’t have to deal with them. I’m not even a kid anymore. I am an adult and I should have some freedom to make my own choices and mistakes. Even though I’m of legal age, they still consider me a kid. I’m sure I have a lot to learn, but I’d rather learn it from elsewhere at this point. I needed out of this abusive household.

I made it to the station around 3:30 PM. Maybe they’ll accept my 3:00 PM ticket in exchange for a new one at a later time. If not, I’ll have to figure out a new plan. I headed inside to the reception area.

“Excuse me,” I huffed as I dropped several bags on the ground in front of the desk. “I was hoping you could help me.”

The girl behind the desk turned from her computer. She was younger, maybe in her late 20s, but clearly had been doing this for a while. She was wearing some sort of basic, monotone uniform for the bus line. “How can I help you?”

“My, uh, my ticket here was for three. I was wondering if you could help me out at get me on a later bus for today.” I sat the ticket on the counter.

She reached and grabbed it, looking it over. “Are you sure?”

“What?”

“Are you sure you need a change?” She looked confused, “The ticket clearly states that it’s for four PM today. Boarding for that route starts in about ten minutes.” She handed it back to me.

I took it from her hand. “No, it’s for thr- what?” I read it. The spot that was smudged earlier clearly said 4:00 PM. This doesn’t make sense. I tried to keep my cool. “Oh, I must have been mistaken.”

I’m going crazy. Why is everything suddenly going my way? I took my bags to a seat. For being midday, I realized the entire room was awfully empty. I didn’t think too much of it. I reached into my gaming bag and pulled the red deck box out. Pulling out the deck, I sat the box to my side. Looking at the cards, I decided to count them. Fifty-nine. I know this deck had sixty.

I turned them over to face me and looked through them. Charms and Creatures, as I mentioned, started a long time ago. The original cards were based on more standard games, with Kings Queens, Jacks, Bishops, Rooks, and the like. Then, they took on some classic tarot traits. Eventually, they grew out into more fantastical sets over the years with the more fantasy-setting monsters and cybernetic robots.

Now, what card is missing? I built this deck. I should be able to figure out which card isn’t there. I think I know it. The card was “Trusty Steed”. It was definitely in this deck. Weird.

“Now boarding for 4 PM route to Glint Game Academy,” the loudspeaker echoed. It’s fortunate that Glint has their own bus station and route. Weird, but fortunate.

As I handed my bags to be packed into the side compartment and entered the bus, I realized that it probably isn’t optimal to have a bus line to a specific school. I was the only person riding this bus today. Oh well, maybe I’ll get some quiet me-time for a few hours before the next stop.

I brought my gaming bag as a carry on so that I could look at my cards again. I couldn’t make anything out of it and needed to study what was going on. I pulled my deck box out again. I thought to myself that I have another Trusty Steed in a different box that isn’t in use. No biggie. I’ll just grab it and another sleeve and complete that deck again while I wait.

I fumbled through my bag to look for the box with that particular card. As I did, I realized the ticket stub for my ticket was in the seat directly next to me. I must have sat it there when I boarded. I reached for it and as my hand went to clutch it, it didn’t feel right. It should be flimsy paper. I looked at my hand to find my Trusty Steed card, complete with its double sleeved protection.

What the heck is going on? I placed the card on the bottom of the deck and shuffled the cards. Dropping the tray down from the seat directly in front of me, I made a table to continue shuffling. I’ve got about two or three hours on this trip and I’m going to get to the bottom of this before I get off this bus.

I sat the deck face down in front of me. I reached and drew the top card, flipping it over and placing the card directly next to the deck: “Grandfather Clock”.

The bus driver yells back to me, still the only passenger. “Hey kid, we’re just about there. You might want to pack your stuff back up. You can see the academy if you look out the window on your side.”

I looked around, then at my cellphone, and realize that it’s suddenly close to 7:00 PM. I’ve been on this bus maybe ten minutes. What?

“Oh, sure! No problem!” I call out from several seats behind him. I combine the deck, box it back up, and stick it back into its bag. “All good!” Something is going on here. Or I’m dreaming. I’m still in my room back at home, missed the bus, and am going to apply for community college next week. That’s it. I guess I’ll just see how this dream goes for the time being.

I glance out the window to see a forested area. Then, I saw it in the clearing. Smoke stacks puff out light smoke from the top of a giant warehouse. Beside it is a giant tower, taller than any of the smoke stacks or smoke. There’s a rounded ball-like tip to the tower, like if it has a giant room at the top. The last part directly beside the tower resembles a castle. Or a private school. The kind of schools you see in movies that feel fake and made-up for the movie. It was massive, but hard to make out any specific details from this distance and height. It was clearly surrounded by a stone wall that stood what looks like ten or fifteen feet high. It’s a glorified art college. Why does it need a wall like that?

I could make out the school’s logo-slash-crest on one of the buildings. I had seen it online and in pamphlets. In the crest, the four tenants are shown: trading card games, role playing games, board games, and tabletop games. These are symbolic for the four primary curriculums for GG, respectively: game theory, writing, architecture, and fine art. I think they’ve added some other curriculums, but their crest has been the same for a long time since those were their original programs.

Okay, so, we are here. How did we get here so fast?

As we approached, I heard a noise from my gaming bag. As I went to check it, the bus began to slow down. It halted with a steamy hiss. “We have arrived,” the bus driver said. He got out to unload my other luggage and I gathered up my bag and headed out as well. I’m starting to get suspicious about this entire endeavor. I’d hate it if my parents turned out to be right, though. So, let’s see where this goes.

As I stepped off the bus, I looked up and my jaw dropped open.

[thotsforvillainrights]

all the new redestro appearances in the anime got me thinkin bout him again 😩

can i request headcanons or a scenario of redestro with a college-aged child (reader is either the child or his s/o), who is also part of the PLF? i feel like hed be both protective and biased towards them constantly 🥺

(12 a.m. already? Happy Halloween everyone! Anyway, I wanted to do the reader being his child to mix things up so thank you for giving me that option! I apologize ahead of time for getting off track a bit with this one!)

~Dad!Rikiya vs. Empty Nest~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

-It seems like just yesterday that he was changing your diapers and singing twinkle twinkle little star before tucking you into bed. Then in a flash all that time that was moving so slow suddenly moved too fast in hindsight. Suddenly he was watching you not only soar through high-school but also pick up on all the essential lessons he’d instilled in you through MLA and Destro’s principles. My how the times change yes? The Mla now the PLF and you now a budding young adult getting ready to leave Deika and head to college.

-This old man was split down the middle. He really wanted to keep you here for just a little while longer. Summer was moving too quickly and you seemed to be a huge help to the PLF. Having his baby around a little longer wouldn’t hurt right? Then the other half of him was so proud of you for getting into the college you wanted to go to with honors and scholarships that he’d hate himself if he or anything else held you back from that. It was tough to stomach after all! So he found himself stalling for time even if he didn’t notice he was doing it. “Are you sure this is the one you want, little one?” He frowned at the pamphlet. He’d read that thing from top to bottom a million times over. There was absolutely nothing wrong with that college and he knew it. You sighed and shook your head. “Yes dad, I’m sure. Otherwise I wouldn’t have applied there. And anyway, aren’t you the one that suggested this university a while back?” You laughed when you saw his expression. He wasn’t as sneaky as he thought. You’d known your father better than anyone else after all. 

-Here lately he’d been clingier than his usual self. The only other time he’d been like this was when you were going to high-school for your first day. It was a bit embarrassing to have him yelling about how much he loved you from the bus stop but you got some of your reputation back when he sent an expensive car to pick you up from class later that day. You loved your dad, of course you did! But all parents can sometimes be a bit much if you give the opportunity to do so. You’d also noticed how much importance he was putting on you for the PLF operation happening. He never wanted to guilt you into staying home or anything like that but it was starting to be a bit much by the way he kept piling assignments on you. He felt a little guilty knowing you just wouldn’t drop them since the MLA/PLF meant so much to you too. 

-Unfortunately even if his plan was working, he had his own issues to deal with. With him no longer being in full control of everything he’d deal with the way Tomura was running the operation at the moment. There have been too many times when he’d underestimated you and caused Rikiya to step out of line and remind them of all your accomplishments. And on the side of all this, some of the members of the LOV were a little too attached to you at the moment. Something that caused his protectiveness to spiral a bit out of control. Not only did he have to worry about you being by yourself at college but he also had to worry about you here too?! You’d finally decided to talk to him when you watched his stress marks nearly cover his face (something that hadn’t happened this quickly since that time you fell off your bike and broke you leg when you were little). “Quick chat dad?” You sat next to him and watched the marks slowly creep back into place. “Yes little one? What is it?” He was at your full attention, eyes watery because he knew you’d figured everything out by now. You were as smart as a whip after all. “I know you’ve been trying everything to keep me here but it’s really not gonna fly. I love you and I love this little...Paranormal front thing...the Meta Liberation Army always what it’ll be in my eyes haha. Anyway, you’ve got to let me grow up sometime right? You didn’t honestly expect me to stay your little girl/boy/kid forever?” He let out a long sigh and looked down at his feet momentarily. “Yes well I suppose it’s a bit difficult for me is all. I love you so dearly and sometimes it’s hard to see you as anything other than that same little kid I was just taking to parades and preschool long ago. College is a big place, and the world isn’t so kind all the time. I just don’t know what I’ll do when you’re gone is all.” His eyes now watering a tad bit more. You chuckled and placed a hand gently on his back. “Just because things are changing doesn’t mean I’ll just leave and never come back again. The college is literally an hour out of Deika. I can visit you on the weekends and there will always be holidays to stay as well. Plus I can handle myself! You raised someone as tough yet caring as yourself. I’ll carry out on everything you put into me so don’t you ever worry about me okay?” You reassured him and the two of you hugged shortly afterwards.

-Although he’d come to terms with empty nest, it still didn’t stop him from sobbing rivers on the day you left home. You’d have to be sure to call him as soon as you make it there and please visit as soon as the weekend hits!

[augustmoon259]

"Unholy Blood" Pureblood!Fem!Vampire Reader x Hayan Park

Ten years ago, people who could transform into vampires began to appear in Korea. Ever since then, these morphing vampires have been slaughtering people while hiding their true identities. But there's something that people don't know. A secret, that if it got out, would change the world and the way that people saw vampires forever.

Pureblood vampires. Vampires who are stronger, faster, and more powerful in every way. How do I know about them? Because I am a pureblood vampire.

o - o - o - o - o

My parents were both pureblood vampires. They used to live in Korea, before they had me. They decided to move to the US and settle down in a small town.

My life was a peaceful one. Sure, it was hard trying to hide my identity as a vampire, but it wasn't that bad. I was homeschooled, up until I was ready to go off to college.

College was a new experience for me. I had fun making new friends, taking classes taught by different teachers, and being in a new environment. I went home to visit my parents during breaks.

I wish I had gotten to say goodbye to them, if I knew that I'd never be able to see them again.

o - o - o - o - o

It was winter break. I was excited to see my parents again and spend time with them during the holidays. I had plans for movies we could watch together, games we could play, and more.

The bus stopped in my neighborhood, and I got off, still brimming with anticipation. That is, until I saw the smoke.

The smoke was coming from the direction of my family's home. I ran there as fast as I could. When I got there, I saw the firefighters putting out the last of the flames.

Our house was a complete wreck. I frantically rushed past the onlookers and firefighters to dig through the rubble, and search for my parents. I was dragged away, still screaming and sobbing.

Later, the police told me about what had happened. It was reported that two explosions were heard from our house, and then a fire started not long after. The firefighters were dispatched, but it still took a while for them to get from the station to our house. They found my parents' bodies, unrecognizable as they were.

The explosions were written off as gas leaks, since our house was an old one. This may have been a reasonable explanation to anyone else, but not me. I knew better.

We were pureblood vampires.

Any regular vampire that manages to consume the heart of a pureblood vampire would become a pureblood vampire themself. We knew this, but we thought we were safe here in the US, when vampires began to appear in Korea ten years ago.

My parents must have sacrificed themselves to destroy their hearts, along with their attackers.

Our mailbox still had some mail in it. Bills to pay, letters for my parents, and letters for me as well. I expected this. What I was not expecting was the note left in the mailbox, addressed to me.

If you want revenge for your parents' deaths, come to Korea.

I crushed the note in my hand.

Whoever came after my parents didn't succeed, but it cost my parents their lives. Now they're after me. They know I exist.

Fine. If they think I'll be easy prey, I'll prove them wrong.

o - o - o - o - o

Living in Korea was different from living in the States.

I had applied to study abroad, and the university I applied for was Hanguk University. I managed to rent an apartment at a decent price in a modest neighborhood. I heard that there was a nice church in the area, run by a priest who also takes care of orphans from the nearby orphanage.

It was hard enough adjusting to life in another country, never mind one where bloodthirsty monsters come out at night. Lucky for me, I had the distinct advantage of being one of those "monsters".

Admittedly, not only did I feel guilty for not being able to prevent my parents' deaths, I realized what a privileged life I had been living. All my life, just on the other side of the world, there were innocent people being terrorized by vampires.

But now I'm here, and I have the power to do something about it.

I'd find whoever was responsible for my parents' murders, and I'll rid the world of vampires, one bastard at a time.

Between going out at night to kill vampires, and scrounging up information about their secret hierarchy and criminal underworld, I was also busy with my normal, "human" life.

I attended the orientation for my new university.

Yet it wasn't at the orientation that I'd meet the woman who'd change my life.

o - o - o - o - o

The first day of school was always the same: new students rushing to find their classes, old students saying hi to their friends, and teachers making note of who to look out for that year.

I greeted a few people I had met at the orientation, but there was one girl who was going around greeting...everyone. She was quite pretty, with dark brown hair and eyes.

She was so enthusiastic, bowing her head at every person she came across, that I couldn't help but smile.

With her friendly demeanor, I was sure she'd already have made plenty of friends, but I noticed later that she had no one to sit at lunch with. I myself was sitting alone, but that was of my own volition. I debated whether or not to go to her table and sit with her, but I opted not to, in the end.

Over the next few days, I kept seeing her around. She still greeted everyone cheerfully, and had earned the nickname "Miss Popular" around campus. I found it very fitting for her.

Things continued on like this. Her, greeting everyone with enthusiasm but sitting alone. Me, silently watching her.

I decided that I had done enough observing, and that it was time to formally meet her.

Bringing my lunch with me over to her table, I sat across from her. She had started eating her lunch by then, so when I unexpectedly arrived at her table, she choked on her food.

"Hey! Hey, are you okay?!"

I got up from my seat, prepared to do the Heimlich maneuver if necessary, but she waved a hand to stop me, and grabbed a nearby water bottle with the other hand to drink. She beat her chest a few times until she was no longer gasping, and I sat down when I confirmed that she was fine. Other people who had noticed the incident went back to eating their lunches.

We sat there, awkwardly gazing at each other, until she groaned and covered her face with her hands in embarrassment.

"Nice going Hayan...first person who decides to sit with you at lunch, and you make a fool of yourself..."

"Oh no, that was my fault! I'm sorry for surprising you like that...so, uh, your name is Hayan?"

Hayan took one hand off her face, before slowly removing her remaining hand.

"Yes, my name is Hayan...Park Hayan."

I introduced myself, and then we...shook hands. I decided to start a new topic of conversation, before Hayan had an existential crisis.

"Hayan...is it alright if I call you Hayan?"

She nodded her head affirmatively before waiting for what else I had to say.

"I hope this isn't out of line for me to say, but I've sort of been watching you for a while now. I notice that you always say hi to everyone, but you're still sitting alone at lunch? Um, Hayan, do you have friends?"

Hayan looked taken aback for a moment, before hanging her head in shame.

"It's...it's complicated? I've been trying to make friends, and since I didn't attend the orientation, I thought saying hi to everyone would be a surefire way to meet new people, but I haven't had much luck..."

"You didn't attend the orientation? So that's why I didn't recognize you. Hayan, if you're trying to make new friends, would you...like to be friends?"

"Seriously?! I mean, how could I reject?!"

Hayan enthusiastically slammed her hands on the table and jumped up, before sheepishly sitting back down when she noticed people's curious glances.

"Yes! Let's be friends!"

I talked with Hayan until lunch was over, and it turned out that we had a lot in common. Neither Hayan nor I were able to finish our lunches, busy as we were with chatting with each other. We decided to exchange phone numbers to keep in touch with each other.

After that, I wasn't occupied with just school and my nighttime activities. I hung out with Hayan outside of school. We went to cafes and coffee shops to get drinks and spend more time with each other.

She and I were the same age: twenty. When I applied to Hanguk University, I had to apply as a freshman, since not all of my credits from my previous college transferred over.

Hayan was looking forward to a get together that some seniors had organized at a pub. Students from every year would be there, and she hoped to meet other freshman besides me. I wasn't one for drinking, since vampires couldn't get drunk anyway, but I decided to go for Hayan's sake.

Gatherings of college students tend to go south pretty quickly, but it was what happened after that was a disaster.

o - o - o - o - o

The pub was crowded, noisy, and filled with the laughter and shouting of overexcited young adults.

I sat down at a random table with Hayan. When we sat down, I heard someone suggest a drinking game to lighten the mood. Next thing I knew, we were all pointing fingers at each other, and Hayan was the unfortunate person chosen to drink.

Two hours and several more drinking games later, Hayan was still unsuccessful at making another friend. I was surprised to note that Hayan was not a lightweight at all. She had drunk nearly twenty bottles of soju by herself! And If I was being honest with myself, I thought that made her even more amazing than she already was.

"Hayan, do you want to go home now?"

"Ah, yeah, I guess so...It seems my latest plan to make friends failed..."

In my head, I could see the comical tears of defeat in her eyes.

Hayan got up and grabbed her bag, but before we left the pub, a senior announced one last drinking competition. It was between a heavyset senior named Jang and anyone who dared to challenge him. If no one won, the freshman had to show off a talent during our start of year trip.

I knew what was coming before anyone else. I decided to take bets, and when the drinking match was over, I made a nice one hundred thousand won from people who had bet Hayan would lose.

Actually, calling it a "match" would be wrong. It was so one-sided, I almost felt bad for Jang.

Hayan finally got her wish granted. I saw two freshman asking Hayan for her number to join their study group. As I looked at Hayan's giddy face, and the admiring expressions of everyone else around us, I felt happy for Hayan.

Just when Hayan was making a toast to her victory, the sirens went off.

The joy of everyone around us immediately died out, to be replaced with worry and fear instead.

People scrambled to gather their belongings and leave the pub, and I hurried over to Hayan's side.

"Come on, Hayan. We'd better go. The sirens mean that vampires will be out soon..."

"Right! Um, let's go!"

We left the pub, prepared to follow everyone else in order to catch the last bus.

"Hayan! Let me walk you home!"

Before I knew what was happening, there was a random guy standing in front of Hayan. He completely ignored me. If that wasn't enough to piss me off, his condescending smirk and the arrogant way he held himself did. Let me guess, this guy's one of those idiots who try to act macho in front of girls to impress them.

"Um, no thank you. I already have a friend I'm walking home with..."

"A friend? Sure you do. Come on, what are you so afraid of? Me?"

"Hey buster, back off. She already said she's got someone to walk home with!"

I shoved him away. As he recovered from my unexpected interference, he quickly masked his anger with the same infuriating smirk. He gave me a once over, before his smirk widened.

"So this must be the friend you mentioned. Well, I can always walk you both home."

Great. Just great. Not only is he wasting our precious time, he's hitting on Hayan and me.

"Tch. Fine. Clearly you're invested in walking with us, for some unfathomable reason, so I'll deign to let you join us, but only if I'm between you and Hayan."

He seemed to be more interested in Hayan than me, so I thought putting myself between her and him would get him to stop talking. Instead, he kept blabbering on about how vampires are no big deal, and there's nothing to worry about.

He's extremely lucky that we finally made it to the bus stop. Otherwise, I might have punched him.

There were some people running to get on the bus before it left. The annoying guy was still flirting with Hayan, but my attention was diverted when I heard a crash. The three of us turned our heads toward the source of the noise.

It was a man who had been thrown on the ground. The other man standing above him was obviously a gangster, a loan shark out to collect his debt. My intuition told me something bad was going to happen, and not because of the loan shark.

Sometimes, I hate being right.

It happened faster than the human eye could see, but I could discern perfectly with my vision. The man on the ground thrust his arm straight through the loan shark's chest.

As he stood up and shoved the now dead body off himself, the vampire walked closer step by step to Hayan and I. The annoying senior had long run away. He really was just a coward in the end. I would deal with him tomorrow. Right now, I had bigger things to worry about.

Normally, I'd just transform and then kill this no-name vampire, but I had to worry about Hayan. She was digging through her bag, looking for something. If only the bus was still around. Then Hayan could have run away and escaped.

I made a split second decision.

"Hayan. Listen to me. Run away as far as you can and don't look back."

"What? But, what about you? I can't leave you here alone!"

"Damn it Hayan, please just run away!"

"And where do you think you're going, bitch?!"

The vampire lunged towards Hayan and grabbed her hair. Before he could bite her, I transformed and slammed him to the ground. I smashed his head in, and watched as his body scattered into dust.

With the immediate threat out of the way, I checked on Hayan. She had fallen on the ground when the vampire let go of her hair. I helped her as she stood up weakly. Hayan blinked, as she alternated between looking at the crater where the vampire used to be, and me. I spread my arms out to either side, and gazed steadily back at her.

"This is me. This is who I really am. I'm a vampire, a monster that people want dead. Hayan...do you hate me too?"

I waited with bated breath for her answer. The truth is, I could erase her memories. Make it so she never remembered what happened this night. But I didn't want to.

Ever since my parents died, I had no one else who knew the truth of who I really was. I was good at pretending. I've been doing it my whole life. But I needed just one person I didn't have to pretend with, and I hoped that person could be Hayan.

Hayan studied my white hair and blue eyes. She looked pensive.

"No...no I don't hate you. Because you're my friend."

She hugged me, and if I noticed that her hold was tighter than normal, I didn't mention it.

"Hayan...thank you."

I hugged her back.

We remained like that for a while, until I offered to take her home.

"Wait, you want to...you want to carry me?! In-in your arms?!"

"Well, yes. I could also give you a piggyback ride, but since I'll be running and jumping on rooftops, this should be more comfortable for you."

"O-okay."

Putting one arm under Hayan's legs, and the other supporting her back, I made sure Hayan was securely in my hold when I leapt from the ground. Hayan kept her eyes closed the entire time, until I landed with a thump in front of the church.

"Good night, Hayan."

I smiled softly and gave Hayan a small wave, before hurrying home.

o - o - o - o - o

Hayan and I grew closer after that night.

Since I no longer had to pretend I was human around her, I invited her over to my apartment, and vice versa. She introduced me to her "father" and her "siblings".

"It's nice to meet you sir. I mean, Father Michael. Um, Father-Michael-sir?"

As it turns out, Hayan was an orphan. I knew she lived in the same neighborhood as me, but not at the orphanage next to the church that I heard about when I first rented my apartment. The neighborhood ladies were always giggling about Father Michael, but he was more intimidating in person, even to a pureblood vampire like me.

"At ease. You're the friend Hayan has been talking about?"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

Hayan was fighting back laughter behind me, while I kept on sweating nervously.

"It's good she has a friend like you."

"Thank you, Father!"

I barely held back a sigh of relief that I seemed to make a good impression on Hayan's adoptive father. It was time to meet the younger siblings now.

"Woah! This is all for us?!"

Hayan's adoptive siblings, Yerim and Yunsu, bounced around eagerly when they saw I had brought bread for them. Hayan told me her siblings really loved bread, especially sticky rice bread. I had bought a couple for them from the school dining hall, and then went to a bakery to buy some more bread (mochi, sesame, tapioca, etc.) Since I couldn't eat any of it myself, I bought what was recommended to me by the baker, and hoped for the best.

"Hayan! You need to bring your friend by more often!"

"You are my new favorite person!"

"I thought I was your favorite person?!"

I chuckled as Hayan chased her siblings around in order to catch them and tickle them.

Hayan has such a lovely family. It's no wonder she's also a lovely person.

o - o - o - o - o

It was a normal evening at the university. I had stayed behind at school to work on homework and assignments with some classmates.

The student body was abuzz today with new gossip about the "super senior". He was the senior who had entered college nine years ago, and still had yet to graduate. This was none of my business. What was my business was that he was rude and a bully. In fact, just that afternoon, he had bumped into Hayan and insulted her instead of apologizing. If I saw him, I'd give him a piece of my mind, regardless if his family was well off or not.

After finishing our assignments, I accompanied my classmates on their way to get the last shuttle bus. To my displeasure, we had the misfortune of running into the aforementioned "super senior" Byungsu.

My classmates greeted him, but when he gave them no reply, they said goodbye to me and ran off to catch the bus.

I noticed that he seemed to be in a daze. Hayan did tell me that it seemed like he was sick, and looking at him now, I could tell that she was speaking the truth. Regardless of any beef I had with him, if he was feeling unwell, he should go see a doctor.

"Hey, Byungsu. Do you need to go to the hospital?"

He didn't answer, instead just glaring at me, and clenching his fists. Whatever was going through his mind at that moment was not pleasant. I wanted to ask him more questions, but we were interrupted by a man on the phone.

It was Professor Donggyu Park. He was not one of my professors, but Hayan said he's one of her favorites. He's very dedicated to his job, has memorized all of his students' names, and even speaks to students on days he doesn't teach. It looked like he was in a hurry to get home, judging by how he greeted us quickly and then got into his car.

I was too late to stop what happened next.

Byungsu threw Professor Park's car into the air. It flipped over and landed on its top with a crash. I dashed toward the car to check on Professor Park. He was bleeding from his head and unconscious, but he was still alive.

I was the one who was clenching my fists this time. Well, I had the perfect target to vent my anger out on.

This side of the school was deserted at this time of the night, and the security cameras were down for maintenance today. With no one watching me, I could kill Byungsu.

He was heading this way, no doubt to murder the professor.

I opened the car door, gently took Professor Park out, and placed him on the ground. Then I transformed.

"What the fuck, you're a vampire too?"

"Shut up. You won't be alive for long anyway."

My hand was enveloped in blue flames as I disappeared and then reappeared in front of Byungsu. I grabbed his face, and watched as it melted away. The fire burned everything and left nothing behind, not even ashes.

After de-transforming, I performed first aid on Professor Park and called 119.

When the ambulance arrived, I was questioned by police officers about what had happened. I told them the fake story I made up: I was with some classmates on their way to catch the last bus home, and then we ran into Byungsu. I went back inside the university to get something I had forgotten. When I came back outside, I saw Professor Park's car turned over and him inside unconscious.

I was held in questioning until the police contacted my classmates to confirm I was with them. Professor Park woke up after receiving emergency medical attention, and told the police he had also seen Byungsu. That, coupled with the sudden emergence of footage showing Byungsu had caused a traffic accident and killed the victims, all but cemented the fact that Byungsu the vampire had attacked Professor Park.

Byungsu was put on the national wanted list, and around campus people started calling me "The Lifesaver".

o - o - o - o - o

To recap, since school started, I became friends with Hayan, saved her from a vampire by revealing my secret, met Father Michael and Hayan's younger siblings, and also saved another person from a vampire attack.

My life in Korea had been extremely eventful, and it only became more so with the introduction of Detective Euntae Hwang.

It was another day at the university, and there were students outside of the school protesting the recent vampire attacks. I was irritated, but I could also understand where they were coming from. Recent examples like Byungsu had shown that it was all too easy for vampires to hide on campus.

I was with Hayan, and the two other freshman she had met at the pub.

"Excuse me, are you Hayan Park?"

We all turned around to see a handsome red haired man. I looked at Hayan, and from her reaction, she recognized him.

"Hayan," I whispered to her, "you know this man?"

"Yes," she whispered back, "he saved me and my siblings from gangsters this one time."

Well, if he helped Hayan, he could be a good person, but he could also be faking it...

"Oh, and you must be the other person I'm looking for!"

I pointed at myself in surprise. "Me?"

"Yes, you! Let me introduce myself..."

He smiled, before proceeding to tell us all how about how he graduated from the police academy at the top of his class...and how he was made captain of the criminal investigations unit...and how he was the superstar of the vampire task force....and...

I sighed and facepalmed.

"We get it, you're a detective. Please, we don't need to hear your entire life story..."

"Oh, silly me! I chattered on for too long, huh?"

Hayan's friends said goodbye before leaving us with the detective, blushes still present on their faces. As Hayan and I walked to the dining hall with the detective to continue our conversation with him, I noticed a lot of attention on us. Or rather, the detective.

By the time we got to our destination, Hayan and I had begrudgingly learned more about him.

He wasn't kidding when he said he was an expert about vampires. He had even invented a method to kill vampires: paralyzing them and then burning them alive in a furnace. To create such a brutal method, this man...he was dangerous.

I was on my guard while waiting for what else he had to say. He had ordered an entire table's worth of food, while I ordered drinks for Hayan and I. He insisted on buying food for us as well, but I rejected him quite firmly.

The detective, Euntae Hwang as he called himself, asked us about the vampire who had killed the loan shark. Apparently, that was what Detective Hwang was investigating. The police were trying to figure out how the vampire died, and if it was related to the recent case of Byungsu...

I could tell that Hayan was nervous around the detective. He must be bringing up bad memories of the vampire attack.

Detective Hwang didn't let up in his interrogation though. If anything, he got more extreme. Did he suspect Hayan and I were vampires? Well, that wouldn't do. I pondered how to get out of this mess, when something unexpected happened.

The detective cut his hand with the knife he was using for his food.

It was quite a deep cut, and the blood flowed steadily from the wound.

"Ouch! I cut myself! I guess my fingers were too tense..."

Was he that desperate to reveal us as vampires? I'm glad I had the foresight to order a drink, so that I had something else to focus on instead of the blood. But it made me upset that Hayan seemed to look even more uncomfortable now.

"Detective, why don't you go to the nurse's office and get a bandage for that cut?"

"Are you sure? I can always get a bandage at the police station..."

"No, no, you should definitely go and get that checked out. The sooner the better."

"Alright then. I suppose this is goodbye for now."

'For now?' I hope that's 'forever' instead. The detective left after packing up the rest of his food, and I wanted Hayan and I to go home as quickly as possible, but Hayan insisted on buying some sticky rice bread for her siblings. I was going to object, but caved after Hayan gave me her best pair of puppy dog eyes.

The line for the baked goods was long today. We waited for a while, until we finally bought the bread and left the dining hall. But, we ran into the detective on our way out.

"Hey, we meet again!"

I facepalmed, for a different reason this time.

"Yayyyy...so glad we keep running into each other."

If he noticed my sarcasm, the detective didn't comment on it.

"Well, we'd love to stay and chat more, but Hayan has to go home and take care of her very sick siblings..."

"Huh? But my siblings aren't -"

"Yep! Very sick! Oh the poor little ones!"

I grabbed Hayan's hand and we speed walked away from the detective...

....

....

"It's time for us to takes matters into our own hands! Let's prove that we're not vampires!"

Damn it.

The protestors from earlier were now cutting people in order to prove that they weren't vampires. It was chaos all around us. Some students were willing, but most thought that the student council protestors were taking it too far. I thought about going back inside and waiting for the chaos to die down. There had to be teachers who would stop this madness, right?

I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked back to see it was Detective Hwang.

He leaned down to whisper to Hayan and I, "Just start walking." So we did exactly that, until we were stopped.

The student council members were blocking our path.

"Have you done the test to prove you're not a vampire?"

They weren't backing down. Hayan raised a complaint, but that only seemed to make them angrier. One of them grabbed Hayan's wrist, and I prepared to brush it off, but when he pulled back Hayan's sleeve, we all saw the bandage on her arm.

It was still wet with blood.

But whose? Is it...the detective's? From when he cut his hand earlier with the knife? When and how did he get the bandage onto Hayan's arm?

"You see? We already did it. Do you need more proof?"

Detective Hwang was calm and collected as he slid Hayan's sleeve back down. That should have been the end of the matter, but a new obstacle stood in our way: the student council leader.

"She could have gotten that bandage anywhere. I wasn't able to see her do the test, so I need her to do it again."

This was getting ridiculous.

The student council leader made a go at grabbing Hayan's arm again, but Detective Hwang caught him midair.

"It's a crime to go around using a blade on people against their will. Unless you want to be charged, I suggest stopping."

He flashed his police ID at the student council members, which was finally enough to get them to leave us alone. The three of us were able to get away from campus unimpeded.

I was reluctantly grateful for the detective. Hayan and I could have waited inside the university, but then the council members would have kept accosting other students outside. With the threat of police intervention, they'd be unlikely to continue.

"Thank you...Detective Hwang."

"Oh please, call me Captain."

"...Captain Hwang."

He added his number to Hayan and I's contacts, before the three of us parted ways.

o - o - o - o - o

I had gotten a text from Hayan.

I...I need you. Please...please come. I'm sitting in front of the pizza restaurant...

I knew exactly where Hayan was referring to. I grabbed my umbrella and my rain jacket, before quickly heading out to find Hayan. I had no idea why she'd send me such a strange text, but whatever the reason, it sounded urgent.

The rain was pouring, and Hayan was absolutely soaked.

"Hayan! You're going to get sick like that!"

I gave Hayan my umbrella to hold, while I went into the nearest store to buy a towel for Hayan. I came back out and gave her the towel to dry off while still holding onto the umbrella. After she finished drying off, Hayan looked...dejected.

"Can you tell me now why you called me out here?"

Hayan kept her head lowered as she explained what happened to her.

"Father Michael...he...he and I got into a fight."

"You got into a fight...? About what?"

"He...he's not letting me go to school anymore."

"What?!"

I was flabbergasted. Then, my astonishment turned into indignation.

"He...he can't do that! You haven't even finished the semester yet!"

"I know...I tried arguing against it, but he...he's made up his mind."

"Hayan..."

I was still aggravated on Hayan's behalf, but seeing her appear so defeated dampened my mood.

"Maybe you need to spend some time away from Father Michael...that could do both you and him good."

"But...where would I stay?"

"Don't be siily! You can stay with me!"

"Really...? You'd do that for me?"

"Of course!"

I gave Hayan a hug. She was no longer frowning, but grinning in relief instead.

Hayan stayed over at my apartment that night. She went home briefly to get her things and her scooter, and to tell Father Michael she was staying over at my place. That made him more upset, but Hayan didn't care. She was still mad at him.

My apartment was relatively small, so I didn't have a guest room for Hayan to stay in. She told me it was okay, and decided to sleep on my couch instead. I was embarrassed I couldn't get Hayan a more comfortable place to sleep.

The next day, Hayan and I decided to go on a walk in the neighborhood to cool off. It was raining again, and we saw a bunch of people gathered around the street gutters. They were panicking, and when we peeked inside the gutter to see the source of all the commotion, we saw a cat close to drowning.

I wanted to help the cat, but I didn't want to reveal my alter ego. Then, I came up with a brilliant idea.

"Attention, please! Does everyone here know what tug of war is? Yes? We can do something similar! Everyone here line up behind me, and hold on to the person in front of you! Then, pull with all your might!"

They did as I instructed, and with the help of my vampire strength, we were able to pull the lid off of the gutter and save the cat. Someone had called 119 beforehand, but since we all saved the cat, there was nothing left to do but get our picture taken in the newspaper. Hayan and I were one of the people who received the "Good Samaritan Award".

Hayan wanted to go home and tell Father Michael about how we saved the cat. I didn't think it was a good idea, but I conceded in the end. Surely Father Michael couldn't be mad about saving an innocent animal's life?

I was disappointed to find that I was wrong. Hayan came to me in tears. She had another argument with Father Michael. So another night passed where Hayan stayed over with me.

Father Michael called Hayan the next morning to tell her that he, Yerim, and Yunsu moved to another neighborhood. He sounded apologetic about the day before. He told Hayan that he moved her stuff to their new home, and if she'd like to come over to see it.

"Go ahead, I don't mind. You should check up on your siblings too."

I gave Hayan a thumbs up, and encouraged her to go. I'd still be there for her when she needed me. Hayan gratefully thanked me, and went over to check up on her siblings, and Father Michael. She called me later, in better spirits.

"I patched things up with Father Michael. It's still kind of rough, but we're making progress."

"Hayan, that's great news! Why don't you stay over tonight then?"

"Okay...."

Hayan stayed with Father Michael, Yerim, and Yunsu for the rest of the week, while I was busy with school. I had mostly accepted the fact that Hayan wouldn't be going to college anymore, but at least we could still hang out together outside of it.

o - o - o - o - o

I got a request from Hayan to come and watch over her siblings for her, while she went out.

"Thank you so much for coming over! Yerim and Yunsu are in bed, but if they wake up and need anything, I feel much better knowing you're there with them."

"It's no problem at all! But just out of curiosity, what do you need to go out for?"

"Father Michael still hasn't come home, even though it's already night time. He's never been this late before..."

"Oh, I see. You'll be going to the church then?"

"Yep!"

"Okay, I'll see you when you get back!"

I expected Hayan to come back with Father Michael, after dealing with whatever was keeping him busy at the church.

But instead, Hayan came back with a police officer and a coroner.

"Unnie, what's going on?"

Yerim and Yunsu were rubbing the sleep from their eyes after they had been woken up by Hayan.

"As Ms. Park requested, the three of you present, sans Ms. Park's friend, are the next of kin of Father Michael. It is with a heavy heart and our deepest condolences that we announce the passing of Myeongsu Choi on this night. We are sorry for your loss, and offer you all our deepest sympathies."

After the coroner announced the death of Father Michael, the police officer and the coroner left to allow Hayan and her siblings to grieve. Yerim and Yunsu were quiet, before tears started falling from their eyes.

"U-unnie, what did they mean? F-father Michael is dead?"

"Yerim....Yunsu..."

Since Hayan arrived earlier, she had tried keeping up a strong front for her siblings. But as she embraced them in her arms, I saw her shoulders trembling. I enveloped Hayan in my arms as the four of us stood there, the quiet of the apartment interspersed with the sniffles and sobs of Hayan and her siblings.

Three days later, Father Michael's funeral was held. Captain Hwang came, along with everyone in the neighborhood, to pay their respects to Father Michael.

I stayed with Hayan and her siblings the days after the funeral. Hayan and her siblings had to prepare to move out, because of the death of their adoptive father. I helped them pack their things back at the apartment, while Hayan visited the rectory to get Father Michael's belongings.

She later told me about the letters Father Michael had written to her.

"He wrote all those letters...for me....he wanted to give them to me, but never found the chance to..."

'And now he never would', was left unsaid.

"I found this too...a business card from the Red Bomb Club."

"Red Bomb Club?!"

That was a club I had found out about during my nighttime excursions. Vampires frequented the club, and even worse, they lured unsuspecting humans in to become their prey, by posing as a safe haven.

"Why did Father Michael have a business card?"

"I don't know, but I overheard police officers at the funeral say a bunch of them had been stuck in Father's pockets."

"Could this be related? You don't think...they killed Father Michael?"

"Not just think...I know they did."

Hayan looked absolutely enraged.

"What will you do now?"

"I want to get revenge. But there's something I have to tell you first...at the church tonight."

o - o - o - o - o

Hayan and I snuck away to the church after making sure Yerim and Yunsu were safe and sound.

The roof and the walls of the church had burned away, leaving gaping holes for the moonlight to stream in.

"Okay, we're at the church. What did you want to talk about?"

"Remember that day you saved me from a vampire? You were truthful with me then, so I want to be truthful with you now."

"Truth? What truth?"

"I'm...also a pureblood vampire."

Before my very eyes, Hayan pulled her hair free from her ponytail, and I watched as it lost its color. Her eyes that I loved so much turned blue, like my own eyes when I transformed.

"This...this is...."

"I'm sorry for not telling you sooner, especially when you told me first..."

"....Amazing!"

"Huh? You're not betrayed? Upset I kept this from you?"

"Why would I be upset, dummy? You're the first pureblood I've ever met aside from my parents."

"Your parents? You never talk about them..."

"That's because..." I hesitated before forcing out the words. "...they died."

"Oh...would it be alright if I asked how?"

"They died in a fire after sacrificing themselves."

"Just like Father Michael..."

Hayan and I contemplated our losses, and the tragedies that led us to where we were at present.

"Is it okay now if I asked about your life? How did you end up with Father Michael?"

"Father Michael...took me in when I was ten. I had no one and nowhere left to go. I hated myself so much that...I even tried to turn myself in for being a vampire."

"And Father Michael stopped you?"

"Yes...Father Michael became a second dad for me."

"What happened to your birth parents?"

"I can't remember. My memories of before I met Father...are unclear."

"Well, I'll help you get your memories back! After you get revenge on Father Michael's killer."

"Thank you...thank you so much..."

Hayan hugged me tightly, just like the day I saved her from the vampire.

After she and I let go of each other, I took Hayan's hands in mine.

"Hayan...I'll always be by your side. And I'm not just saying this because we're both pureblood vampires. Even if I wasn't a vampire, I'd support you no matter what. You're my friend, and I'll be there for you, through whatever hardships may come."

"And you can depend on me too. You don't have to shoulder your burdens alone."

Hayan and I left the church, our hands still interlocked.

[pearl-blue-musings]

CAN I ORDER A MEDIUM WELL STEAK WITH FRENCH FRIES AND GREEN BEANS? WITH SOY SAUCE(sero)?? (ur sero angst made me tear up)

Hi yes of course I’m so sorry that angst made you cry 😭 but hopefully this will change those sad tears to happy tears!

To others with requests I’ll get to those! I wanted to do something not sex related cause that’s what most of the requests are 😅

Pairing: Sero Hanta x fem!reader there was just no way

Enjoy your meal~

~~~~~~~~~~~

Sero Hanta. Two semesters away from being a college graduate and applying his techniques from all his schooling into his pro hero work: soulmate-less. 

He remembers turning ten years old and seeing the magical red string on his pinky show up one day. The excitement he had at knowing he had a soulmate outmatched most of his friends at the time. He knew from his parents that little tugs on his pinky meant he and his soulmate were nearby and the tugs would increase, not to the point of pain, when they would finally meet.

He felt the first tug on his pinky a week or so after he got his string, telling him that there was indeed someone on the other end. But he never felt a tug after that. Sero didn’t let that shake him as he entered high school at UA. 

However, it did start to bother him greatly.

One by one, it seemed that almost everyone he met in his three years there found their soulmate in someway or another. Whether it was in class, at a festival, at an internship, or even on the job. Everyone had someone. Except him. 

Never him.

So by the time Hanta had turned 18, he had given up on his soulmate; the defeating blow coming after doing some late night pre-graduation research. 

Some people don’t even meet their soulmate

Sometimes if there hasn’t been any tugging for awhile, their soulmate could be dead and the string fades away.

Sometimes soulmates aren’t romantic and the person on the other side meets someone who isn’t their soulmate; very rare but it does happen.

He wanted to vomit. There’s no way they’re dead otherwise his string would have faded. But it might as well be that considering the odds of him meeting anyone new.  Sero exhales deeply as he shuts off his laptop and goes to bed. 

Although, there was a slight spark of hope in him when he decided to pursue his hero studies further before becoming a full fledged hero by applying to a hero university. However with his luck, it seems entirely unlikely. 

He slams his pillow over his head and tries to sleep away the sinking feeling at still feeling nothing on his pinky

***********

(Y/f/n). New hero law student at one of the best hero universities in the world and finished her undergrad early at the top of her class: soulmate-less.

She can remember the moment when she turned ten and that mysterious red string appeared on her pinky, feeling an immediate tug. It made her heart soar at the possibility of finding a love like her parents. However, her parents’ story wasn’t usual in the world of soulmates. 

Her mother’s original soulmate had died in a strange accident and she thought she would never love again. But then a couple months later a new purple string showed up and she found (Y/n)’s father. An unusual story but a lovely story nonetheless. She feared that her soulmate would die and she would have to suffer the same fate as her mother.

But no such color appeared, and tugs on her pinky were all but non existent. 

It was depressing for the budding young hero lawyer, but she knew what her goal in life was and that was to help heroes and civilians alike under the law. It’s not that she didn’t want to become a hero, but being a human lie detector she felt her quirk could be used to better society and help out the good people and put away the bad.

That’s why she knew she had to go to Japan, soulmate be damned! 

She knew of All Might, the notorious school U.A. and their students, along with the infamous League of Villains. Nothing like that happened where she was from so everything about that intrigued her. So naturally when applying to finish out her law degree, of course she’d choose a place where all the action was! She couldn’t wait to get her hands dirty. 

***********

With his final class of the day ending in the early afternoon, Sero left the lecture hall and went directly to the hero agency he’s been part timing at. Since he was still a college student, he couldn’t commit fully to being a hero so he took whatever patrol hours he could on top of the work he did (and don’t forget those smoke sessions to take off the load from school). He’s met with one of best friends from school, Kirishima, who also works at this agency established by his other best friend, Bakugou.

“You’re late, soy sauce face.”

��Sorry dude,” Sero chuckles, “couldn’t get on the early bus here.”

“Yeah yeah. Just get ready for patrol with Shitty Hair.” The ashy blond scoffs and walks off, returning to a phone call he was having.  Sero rolls his eyes as he heads to the locker room to change into his hero uniform, ignoring the twitching of his fingers. It’s still so weird how some people do and don’t recognize him at school as Cellophane. But that’s the way it has to be.

“Hey man, I don’t know if Bakugou told you this but we’re getting someone new.”

Sero pauses in putting on his hero outfit to look at the taller and buffer male. “Oh really? Another sidekick?”

“Actually no,” Kirishima beams, “some kind of lawyer type. It was decided after some hero managers and publicists were talking and the need for a hero lawyer, even one in training, would be good for us.”

“I totally get it,” Sero agrees, “considering Bakugou’s temper? Not surprised at all.” He finishes getting dressed and places his belongings in his locker. “So when are we meeting the unlucky bastard that has to look after us?”

“Either today or tomorrow. Either way, I think it’ll be great. You studied some hero law stuff, yeah?” Sero nods and the two men head out for patrol. “Maybe you two can talk and have something in common! You may never know.”

They turn the corner and begin on their way. “I appreciate you looking out for me, but I’m okay not having to meet my soulmate. I’ll just be single forever. It’s all good.” His fingers start to burn in a weird way but he shrugs it off.

The red head grunts, unconvinced. “Sure man. Whatever you say. Let’s hope patrol is relatively quiet, yeah?”

“Heh, when is it ever?”

*******

After getting settled into the apartment, you had gathered your belongings and hurriedly made your way to the nearest bus stop. You had your first meeting with the new agency you would be working at for hands on experience with hero law. It wasn’t necessary for your degree, but when you saw the opportunity arise, you grabbed it. 

Once aboard the bus, you sit down by the window and mentally go through your bag. You have your school credentials, any and all letters of recommendation, your resume and CV, plus a good head shot should they need it. You are on your way to meeting one of the rising heroes of Japan, Dynamight, at his agency. Since it’s a relatively popular agency filled with well known heroes, it makes sense that someone like you would be needed. You had wondered why they didn’t have someone who was already a certified and bar-passed lawyer, but you’re not going to complain. 

The bus ride went along pleasantly, not really looking at the people around you and focusing more on how to sell yourself to your upcoming clients. You’ve met with your advisor and she is letting you work with her firm via the hero agency. You’re pretty excited to say the least. However, the whole time you’ve been in Japan, a little over a week, you’ve been feeling that pull on your pinky.

Not wanting that to ruin your mood, or your bus ride, you ignore it and think it’s one of those rare phenomena where it’s moving wildly on its own. You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you hadn’t realized the bus had stopped moving and the passengers were all sitting closer to you. 

The poor bus driver shakes in fear and the two villains that have entered the bus, striking fear into the passengers. You spot the supposed leader who’s yelling into someone’s face when you gather your courage and stand up.

“Hey! Leave them alone, they’re not doing anything to you!”

Your loud voice caught the attention of the villains, one whose quirk has some sort of telekinesis as you feel your body being unknowingly brought toward the front of the bus.

The man has his face up close to yours and you can smell the nicotine on his breath, making you cough. “You got something to say to me little girl?” His cohort comes over to inspect you carefully, noting the money and jewelry they’ve already procured and you eye them sharply.

You cough in his face and continue, “yeah I do. What makes you think you can just come up in here and harass us?” You motion your back hand to the scared passengers to leave, remembering the doors in the back. You also didn’t know that the bus driver had already pinged for help from the nearby agency, alerting its patrolling heroes.

****** 

Both Sero and Kirishima feel their phones buzz with an alert. They look to each other and start heading toward the coordinates provided. There was a bit more sense of urgency to this for some reason that Sero can’t quite place. 

The closer they get, they see some fleeing civilians. Kirishima stops one and politely asks her what’s happened. 

“These two villains jumped on the bus and hurt the bus driver! They were stealing things until this young woman stood up to them. She told us all to leave but I’m not sure what’s happened to her!”

The two heroes nod and follow the direction of where the lady pointed. They run off toward it and stop a block away to assess the situation. Only a handful of cops are around as it has quickly turned into a hostage situation. The woman earlier was right, and that makes Sero’s heart race in fear. 

“I can sneak up to the side of the bus, head toward the back to check for an entrance.”

Kirishima hums and adds, “right, I can attack from the front, provide a distraction and if necessary close combat.” He breathes to collect himself, knowing they’ve done this a thousand times over. “Let’s do it.”

Sero nods and leaps into position. He takes his place on the side of the bus without alerting the villains or the hostage. The cool metal of the bus helps him to clear his mind and think carefully. His nerves must be getting to him because his fingers, more like his pinky, can’t stop twitching. He’s done this before, so why is this time different.

He almost gives up his position when he hears your voice.

“You’re just some low life petty criminals. I’m not too worried about you two.”

There it is. That little tell when you know you’ve got someone in your clutches. The mind based one seemed to falter and you knew he was going to act out in anger. And you were betting on it.

“Shut up stupid woman. You think I won’t do something to hurt you? Take you down a peg, huh? Because you look like you need to be tamed.”

Your time practicing cross-examining is paying off because that last statement terrified you. Villains are shameless and you know they’d have no problem defiling you in front of the police here; plus you were interrogating him. It got the people out and if you die saving some people then it would have all been worth it.

The two young heroes listening for the right moment give each other a look and both move in to do their parts. The loud red head getting the attention of the villains using his charm and personality to distract them while Sero sneaks into the bus, light on his feet to avoid detection.

Something in you sends shivers down your spine because you don’t even have to see him to know that he’s there. You, almost on instinct, duck down in order for Cellophane to apprehend both criminals and for Red Riot to keep them face down on the floor. You feel tape being wrapped around you and pulled toward the back, but the sensation should’ve come from your waist, not your pinky.

“Are you okay? That was extremely brave standing up to those guys and getting everyone out.”

His voice was unexpected but it drew you in, almost like it’s something you’ve been waiting for your whole life. The hero in question looks down at you and you feel him flinch. He takes off his helmet to get a good look at you and the moment seems to go on forever.

It’s not until you look down at your pinky’s is when it finally hits the two of you.

You had met the other end of your soulmate line. And there he is. His eyes go wide and you immediately get lost in their shape and shade. Is this the feeling your mother described when first meeting your soulmate? Magical? Indescribable? Gosh what is he feeling?

“You, you’re....”

“My soulmate...” you finish.

Sero hadn’t realized that he still had you wrapped in his tape from rescuing you but he doesn’t want to let you go. He spots the tears falling from your eyes and gently places his hand against your cheek and wipes them away. It’s like his hand was made for holding your face and he doesn’t want to let go. He wants to keep holding you like this because for so long, he had resided to being single but, you’re here and you’re real.

“Yo Cellophane, put your helmet on we’ve gotta talk to the police and- oh my god no way.”

The two of you are interrupted by Red Riot who had returned to check on his friend after he hadn’t come out with you, the hostage, yet. The two of you look to the buff man and then back at each other, and cute and embarrassed chuckle leaving your lips.

“I guess we should leave, I have to give a statement and all.”

“And get your injuries checked. Sorry if I pulled you too hard.”

“No no it’s fine! Uh, what’s your name?”

“Ah, uh, Cellophane. But my friends, and now you my soulmate mi amor, can call me Sero Hanta.”

He kisses your hand then and if you were in a courtroom you would’ve lost the case at the way your composure is failing you. It takes everything in you to not faint, because everything you had read was true about the first time you meet your soulmate. Out of this world. 

You’re brought back to reality, when a police officer comes in asking what the hold up was. You two were forced apart and Hanta reapplied his helmet. Even with it on, he can’t stop looking at you. And now that his soulmate is finally within arms reach he doesn’t plan on letting you go.

The four of you, including Red Riot and the cop, walk out of the bus. The cop directs his attention to you and gruffly asks. “So what were you doing on the bus? Why did you stand up for those civilians when you aren’t a hero?”

You looked at him incredulously. You understand he’s doing his job but what kind of question is that? “I was on my way to a meeting at Dynamight’s agency. I was preparing my reading notes as their knew hero lawyer and representative and I saw this happening! How was I supposed to stay back and do nothing?”

As the cop writes down some of your statement, the other two accompanying you are dumbstruck. “Wait, Kiri starts, “you’re our new lawyer?!”

Your eyes widen when you put two and two together. “No way, you work for him?”

Sero lights up, “work for him? We’ve been best friends since our days at U.A.! Who would’ve thought I would meet you today huh?”

You turn to him again, still shocked at the mere audacity of meeting your soulmate today, or ever. Stuck in a war with yourself, you reach out and tangle your fingers with his, just to have his touch once more. “I had given up on finding my soulmate,” you softly admit, afraid to meet his eyes.

He takes his helmet off again, away from prying eyes and focuses his attention on you. “So did I, corazon.” He had placed a hand onto your cheek like earlier and rubbed comforting circles on your soft skin. You hadn’t realized how close the two of you had gotten until he whispers, “May I?”

You nod, and gently lean into his kiss. If meeting each other was the appetizer, then kissing for the first time was like a meal and dessert. It was so chaste, yet so filled with emotions locked away that are now begging to be overflowed into the light. You two pull away, looks of awe and maybe love adorn you faces as you attempt to lean in again.

“I hate to break up the love fest,” Kirishima interrupts looking bashful. “But we’ve got some paperwork to fill out and all that so, we gotta go. And hey, we can take you to the agency after we’re done at the station, I’m sure Dynamight’s eager to meet you.”

Despite everything that had been happening, you had completely forgotten about your meeting, and hurry to call your new employer. You’re on the phone for only a couple minutes, but it gives Kirishima and Sero time to talk.

“So, who would’ve guessed you finally meet your soulmate today huh?”

“Yeah.”

“And I was right there too!”

“Si.”

“Are you listening to me?”

Hanta was listening, but was too busy looking at you and already thinking that he can’t wait to fall in love with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~

[narniagiftexchange]

                                i’ll find you in the next one.

                              THE AUTUMN NARNIAN GIFT EXCHANGE.

                for: @ihaveknownone  from  @luxaofhesperides.

When Peter is six, he asks his parents where his siblings are. They laugh at him and say that he’s an only child and they weren’t going to have another kid. That wasn’t an answer he wanted to hear, but even at six Peter knew better than to keep pushing. So he kept quiet and didn’t mention it again.

And his home remained quiet without the presence of the siblings he knew he had.

So he grows up, always lonely and always quiet, looking out of other kids because he never stopped being an older brother. And no matter how hard he looks, there is no Susan, or Edmund, or Lucy. Just him, and his memories.

There are times when Peter doubt himself, wonders if it’s just a dream or delusions left over from childhood, but he knows the laughter of Susan, and the teasing words of Edmund, and the strong hands of Lucy. He knows them. He knows his siblings better than anyone, even when they don’t exist.

(If he’s alone in this world… Peter forces the thought away and tries to forget his dreams when he wakes.)

He grows bigger, and quieter, looking through crowds for familiar faces he’s only half-sure are real.

And when he gets to college, Peter gives up.

‘I guess I’m alone in this life,’ he thinks as he makes his way through campus, holding that familiar ache in his chest. He scrolls through Twitter as he walks just to avoid people; he hasn’t lost the habit of involving himself in things that help people, and now there’s always a friendly face around ready to talk to him. It wouldn’t be so bad if he was able to fully commit to a friendship, but there’s always a part of him that’s looking away, searching for other people he knows should be by his side.

“Hey, Peter!” someone calls, and he forces down a wince as he looks up. Adam waves at him and jogs over, grinning as he holds up his phone. “Check this out!”

“What is it?” Peter asks, looking down at the screen to a video about… archery?

“There’s this girl who’s coming to this university next year on a scholarship because her marksmanship is insane. You gotta see what she can do.”

But Peter’s already watching, breath caught in his throat as he watches Susan nock an arrow and send it piercing straight through a target too small to see clearly through the camera. She looks exactly as he remembers, back in Narnia, participating in a tournament and holding the title of champion for years until they returned to England.

She’s here. And if Susan’s here then…

“Can you send that video to me?” he asks. His voice sounds as though it’s coming from far away. His heart beats hummingbird fast. He almost doesn’t want to believe it, because if he’s wrong then it will hurt so much more this time.

“Yeah, no problem. Didn’t know you were into archery,” Adam says as he pulls his phone away. Peter almost reaches out to grab his wrist, to bring back the image of Susan, but Adam pockets his phone and carries on as though he didn’t just alter Peter’s life. “You should probably go, doesn’t your class start soon?”

“It does.”

“Alright, I’ll see you at the meeting tomorrow!” Adam leaves, and Peter watches him go.

He isn’t… He doesn’t feel real at the moment. The entire world’s gone soft and faded, like the colors are slowly being washed away. Everything feels quiet and distant and Peter can’t focus on anything other than the fact that he’s not alone.

He skips class for the first time that year. He doesn’t even remember leaving campus.

-

In the age of social media, it’s easy to find Susan. But he wasn’t even sure if that was her name this time around, or if she’d remember anything, if she looked for them too. He doesn’t know anything.

But her Instagram is dedicated to archery and in every tagged photo she’s smiling, which is. Something. It’s a good something.

Looks like she didn’t need an older brother after all.

(Peter thinks about bombs and wardrobes and going years without parents. Thinks about being five and walking a crying four year old Susan home because she fell and scraped her knee. Thinks about his mother in another life, brushing back his hair and telling him in a soft voice that he’s the oldest so he needs to look out for his siblings. Thinks about holding a sword and being terrified that he’s going to outlive all of them. He thinks about a lot of things that don’t matter anymore. They happened in another life, after all.)

He closes the app and collapses onto his bed.

The house is quiet.

- 

Peter tries to focus on other things: school, clubs, deciding whether or not to apply for a part-time job, and most definitely doesn’t think about the siblings he doesn’t have.

His mind, apparently, has other plans. He dreams constantly, of wolves and lions and snow, dreams of a world that no longer exists to him, dreams of a train and a light. After a lifetime (or two?) of ignoring it, suddenly it’s all that he can think about.

Everything’s getting mixed up in his head; Peter hears the church bells ring in the distance and thinks of the small church down the street from the house he lived in while he was in America— except he’s never been to America and the church next to campus is large and old and looks nothing like the one in his memories. He finds himself at the grocery store wondering if he should buy apples to make the apple tart Lucy loved so much, but he’s never been much of a baker and the recipe escapes him.

Even his friends comment on how dazed he is, constantly lost in thought as he walks, forgetting what he’s doing in the middle of doing it, barely able to focus on anything that’s being said. They laugh it off, and Peter laughs with them, but he wonders what he could possibly say if they start asking questions.

It’s hard, now that he knows he’s not alone. But that might be worse; at least when he only had the memory of his siblings, it was easier to live without them. Knowing they’re out there and they don’t know him— that’s what breaks his heart.

-

“Excuse me,” says a familiar voice, and Peter looks up, tears already welling in his eyes. “Is this seat open?”

It takes him a moment to process her words, then he clears his throat and says, “Go ahead.”

Susan smiles at him and takes a seat.

-

They argue over who pays the bill, because they both refuse to split it, and it’s so familiar that Susan almost cries. Peter does cry, and she laughs at him because she understands exactly what he’s feeling. Everything in her feels light; she’s gone so long without anyone, having buried her family in two lives, and here is her older brother who

knows

her, who recognized her before he even saw her, and is so happy he cries.

Susan hadn’t been prepared for this. This small hole-in-the-wall cafe just a couple streets down from the main campus of the university she was touring, the university she’s absolutely going to, between the scholarship and Peter. She walked in, welcoming the warmth after walking around for an hour in the cold wind, and immediately ordered something warm to drink.

The cafe was quiet, only a few people seated here and there, when her eyes caught sight of a familiar face: Peter, typing something on a laptop with an open notebook besides it.

She had spent her whole life wishing she had her siblings back. She wondered, for the longest time, if this was a punishment, to be reborn alone while knowing what it was like to have a loving family. She had been born to an older couple who passed away from illnesses a few years back, and the aunt she lived with now was often out for work.

Susan was far too familiar with loneliness these days.

And then, suddenly, there was Peter and the last time she ever saw him, he was waving goodbye from a train that would take everyone away from her.

(Susan often wondered if they’d ever want to see her again. After everything she did to distance herself from them, all the callous things she said that hurt them when she was pretending to be okay. Wonders if they’d want her back in their lives if they ever met again.)

But he smiled at her, tearing up, and they spent two hours just catching up.

They both skirted around the same topics, careful with their words, but everything that went unsaid was enough for Susan to know that Peter remembered her, them, everything that happened in another life.

He ends up paying, but only because he shoved her away from the cashier and handed them his card before Susan could recover. And he told her that she’d have to pay next time, and wasn’t that something?

There would be a next time.

“Here,” Peter says as they step out of the cafe, holding out his phone to her, “So we don’t lose each other.”

She puts in her number and shoots herself a text to have his number, and hands back his phone. She has to go, she knows, but she doesn’t want to. They’d just found each other again, but now that they had no ties besides memory, their lives were pulling them apart.

“I’m going to be coming here next year. I’m planning on getting an apartment off-campus. I was going to look around for a roommate later, but if you want…”

Peter beams at her and says, “Yeah, of course I’d room with you. It’d be nice to live in the same house again.”

“I guess I’ll see you later.” Susan hesitates, looking down the road where she should go, if she wants to catch the bus that will take her home. She stays.

Peter pulls her into a hug. “You will. I’m free this weekend if you want to hang out.”

Neither of them move for a long time.

It’s only when they really have to that they say goodbye.

-

Peter’s house is quiet. It’s nice, has plenty of space, and is farther way from campus and downtown, so the streets are quiet and mostly empty. It barely looks lived in.

She had hoped he hadn’t been as lonely as she has, this in this life.

“My parents have been traveling a lot,” Peter says when she asks about his family, “Since I can take care of myself. They’ve been sending money every month so I can buy groceries, and they call every night, but we’re not all that close.”

“Oh.”

“It’s alright though! They’re good parents. It’s just that since I can remember another family…”

They don’t say anything else about their parents.

Now that they’re not in public, it’s easier to speak about themselves. How different everything is, compared to their first life, and they talk about Narnia out loud for the first time in this life. It’s a relief to know that it wasn’t her imagination, or lingering daydreams from childhood.

It was all real. All of it.

And it means she’s not alone at all.

 -

“Have you seen anything about Lucy or Edmund?” Peter asks the next weekend and Susan shakes her head.

“I didn’t think any of you would be here, but somehow we still found each other. I haven’t looked at all since I thought I was alone.”

“I’ve looked but I haven’t gotten anywhere. A friend found you, actually, from one of the videos of your shooting. It was a complete accident.”

He knew she was around because of a video one of her friends took while she practiced, and Susan just happened to go to the same cafe Peter was in. What were the odds?

Peter grabs her arm and tugs her along into a small park just outside the main library. It’s hidden off to the side, between the library and the physics building. Susan has found that Peter is a far better tour guide than the one who showed her around campus that fateful day. He’s lead her down shortcuts and into hidden little areas where people seeking quiet and solitude go.

It reminds her of being seven and following around a young Peter down the streets, hand in hand as they looked with wide eyes all the buildings and people they’ve never taken the time to see before.

It took almost two decades, but she���s here now, with Peter.

She’s here now. She’s here.

-

Susan stays an extra hour after practice is over, waxing the string and replacing the nock. It’s familiar, comforting work, something she’s done for years, here and in Narnia. By now it’s muscle memory, and she lets her mind wander, remembering wars and tournaments and competitions, remembers people praising her right up until she scares them away with how intense she can be, remembers splitting an apple a field away.

She looks over her bow with careful fingers and sharp eyes, then stands. One target is still set up, and Susan eyes it, breathes out, then nocks an arrow and draws it back in a quick, fluid motion.

It hits the center.

Behind her, the door to the gym opens with a loud screech, and Susan whips around to face the person coming in, one hand grabbing another arrow.

“Sorry for bothering you!” a student, probably a Year 7, says, wringing her hands. “They asked me to get some mats from here.”

Susan lowers her bow and thinks. “Mats? Who’s asking for them? Shouldn’t most clubs be done by now?”

“Ah, some people from the fencing team are still here. Preparing for a competition or something. I didn’t have anything better to do so I stayed behind to watch and decided to help out.”

“Alright,” Susan says, “Let me put my things away and I’ll help you carry them.”

They don’t talk much at all, besides making sure they can both handle the weight, and Susan follows the girl’s lead outside to the field. Sure enough, people in fencing gear and milling around, going through different strikes and stances. Some of them break off from the group to grab the mats from them, giving their thanks as they set up for an impromptu match.

Susan turns to leave, ready to call it a day, when she catches sight of someone taking off their helmet and stops, heart hammering in her chest as Edmund gives her a small wave and takes his place on the mat.

-

Although fencing is a more delicate way of fighting than he’s used to, Edmund still takes to it easily and becomes the best on his team. He wishes for his sword often, wanting to go back to a more familiar way of fighting, but there’s no need for such skills anymore.

So he settles for the next best thing and fights his way to the top.

The warrior in him never died, after all. It just laid in wait until he was ready to be who he once was.

Sometimes he wonders what it would be like to live without these memories; would he still be the same person? Or would he become a different Edmund, one who never knew any siblings and went through life uncaring of what happened to him? Perhaps he’d be as he was once, years ago, having just left his mother to be safe from bombings and bitter about everything. Or maybe he’d be just like any other boy of this century, laughing and playing video games and wondering what career he’d have in the future.

None of that matters, though, because Edmund does remember. He knows love and heartbreak and grief and joy. He’s lived three lifetimes, all of them impossible, and he carries every memory, every feeling, and holds it close.

And he looks for the people he loves, because he’s never been one to leave others behind.

- 

He wins almost every fencing match, because of course he does. This goes on for years, and though it’s fun and he cherishes the friends he’s made on the team, he wishes he could meet someone who would actually give him a challenge.

Peter would. But he can’t find Peter. Not yet, in any case. There’s very little he can do, being so young (again), and having overprotective mothers. So he plans, looks online, and tries to see what he can do to send out a sign that says “Here! I’m here and I miss you!”

There’s not a day that goes by when he doesn’t miss them. Peter and Susan and Lucy who are probably, hopefully, out there, looking for each other too.

He wants them back.

So Edmund trains and studies and looks around. He tries to see if anyone talks about lions or wardrobes or childhood games in a magical land, but everyone around him is normal. Edmund, who was once both a king and a boy in a world new to him, carries all these memories alone.

He wins another match. It doesn’t feel like much a victory.

(Nightmares of war and battle, of a witch, of gasping for breath, blood on his lips, blood on his hands, feeling everything hurt then fade away. He wishes he knew how to stop fighting.)

He wins match after match.

And then, while practicing alone, he hears someone shout and looks up to see another fencer swinging down their foil with more strength than is allowed in matches. They don’t move like a fencer; they’re aggressive and fluid, slashing and spinning as they force him back.

Edmund feels the wild grin grow on his face as he steps back and becomes the Just King once more, and rises up to meet his opponent.

It feels almost like a dance, alive in a way most of his fights aren’t. There’s energy between them, following a routine no one else knows, twisting their wrists and barely dodging out of the way of another strike. It’s exhilarating. It’s Narnian.

Edmund wins this one, too, but it’s a close thing. This isn’t fencing; contact doesn’t stop the fight. But a thin blade pressed against his opponent’s throat does. His heart is pounding in his chest when he tears off his face guard to wipe off the sweat on his brow.

“And who did I have the pleasure of fighting?” he asks, breathing hard even as he grins.

They stand up slowly, and hesitate for a moment before taking off their face guard. “It seems I still have ways to go before I can best you at swordplay,” Caspian says with a lovely smile, one he’s spent a lifetime dreaming of.

The shock sends him to his knees, but when he reaches for him, Caspian reaches back.

-

“I found Susan,” Edmund says the moment Caspian answers the call.

“What?”

“Susan. You know, my older sister. I found her when I was visiting a friend at another school. She’s still doing archery, by the way. Got a scholarship for it at Peter’s university.”

“Wait, you found Peter too?”

“No, I found Susan. But Susan found Peter and she said she’ll send his contact info over tonight.”

Caspian is silent for a minute, processing what he’s just heard. Then he sighs, and says, “I can’t let you go anywhere alone.”

Edmund laughs, feeling lighter than he has in years, and replies, “That’s why you found me first, isn’t it?”

“Among other reasons.”

He softens and ducks his head. “I’m glad you found me. I never thought that I’d get to see you again.”

“Where you are, I am. You’ve already followed me to the ends of the world. Let me do the same for you now.”

“Caspian, you’re going to make me cry.”

The laugh he gets in response is the same as the one that surrounded him on the Dawn Treader. “What a terrible boyfriend I am. Sure you don’t want to break up with me?”

“Like hell you’re getting rid of me now.”

-

Peter(TM): Sorry I’m gonna be late! People from my club found me :(

why does he have a knife: take your time high king, i know you cant stop yourself from helping them

Peter(TM): I’ll eat all your food

why does he have a knife: i have many swords. try me

Miss Stabby: Why did I think a group chat was a good idea

Miss Stabby: Who changed my name to this, I just wanna talk

why does he have a knife: you KNOW im more creative than that. so i didnt do it

Miss Stabby: Peter. My aim has only gotten better

Peter(TM): ………

Peter(TM): I’ll buy you both crepes if you let me live

why does he have a knife: deal

why does he have a knife: also my bf is gonna be here jsyk

Miss Stabby: YOU DIDNT MENTION A BF

Peter(TM): !!!!

why does he have a knife: yeah caspians excited to see u again

Peter(TM): Caspian’s here too????

Miss Stabby: CASPIAN???

Miss Stabby: WHO ELSE DO WE NEED TO LOOK FOR

why does he have a knife: brb waiters here im ordering first bc u two are taking too long

-

Edmund hooks his foot around Caspian’s ankle and passes his phone over to him. Peter and Susan’s texts always make him smile. Though none of them live together (yet), having some way of contacting them, of being able to annoy them late at night and see that they’re here is incredible.

Now they only need to find Lucy, and then they can all be together again as a family.

It’s all he’s been dreaming of years.

He can’t wait.

-

(And on the other side of the restaurant, Lucy tells her grandparents that she sees some friends and that she’s going to talk to them very quickly. And they wave her away, telling her to have fun, and turn back to their food.

Lucy weaves between the tables and catches Caspian’s eyes as she approaches. He sits up and opens his mouth, but she puts a finger against her lips and shushes him, then creeps up towards Edmund.

He’s typing something on his phone, a small smile on his face, and Lucy’s hands are shaking from excitement. She grabs her bracelet, one with a golden lion charm and a dagger charm on it. Takes a deep breath for good luck.

She pulls up a seat next him and sits down.)

-

Digory taps on the Instagram notification the way his granddaughter Lucy taught him too when she first made him an account. It opens to a picture of Lucy and the rest of her siblings, children who he hasn’t seen in years, children who had grown up without him ever knowing. They’re all pressed against each other, laughing as they struggle to fit onto a small bench.

They look just as they did in the last life, but somehow, brighter. There’s a light in their eyes that he’s never seen before. The weight of a crown and a kingdom no longer rest on their shoulders. In this life, they’re free, and they used that freedom to find each other.

The caption Lucy puts is simple and fun, just like all her other Instagrams.

“living my found family dreams #youwishyouwereme”

He likes the picture and comments a yellow heart.

It’s a good life indeed.

____

i hope you like it!!

[moldisgoodforyou]

lost time (chapter six)

MASTERLIST

pairing: rafe cameron x oc

warning: cursing, underage drinking 

wordcount: 3.4k I’m getting into a groove here

_________

Sophie didn’t know what came over her, but she lied. Straight through her teeth.  

_

When she woke up on Saturday morning, head throbbing, she dragged herself out of bed and down the hall to promptly pull trig in the bathrooms and move on with her day. After taking care of things, she looked herself over in the mirror, grimacing at her appearance. As she pulled her hair back into a ponytail, her eyes widened in surprise at the dark hickey coloring her neck and she promptly let her hair fall back down, storming back into her room.

Allie was already up early, doing homework, and Julia was just barely waking up and winced at the sound of the door slamming shut behind Sophie. 

“What the fuck is this?” Sophie exclaimed, pulling back her hair and pointing out the bruise. 

Allie covered her mouth as she tried her best not to laugh, hesitant to answer. “Um...you might have made out with someone at the party. You don’t remember?”

“No, I was way drunk.” Sophie turned to Julia, raising her eyebrows. “Do you know who?” 

“You made out with my date, bitch.” Julia snorted, using the insult as a term of affection. 

“Your date…” Sophie trailed off, the memories rushing back to her and her jaw dropped. “I didn’t. No I fucking didn’t.” 

“You did. And then you walked home alone and didn’t text us like you’re supposed to, so thank god for Find My Friends.” Allie chided her, crossing her arms. 

Sophie winced and glanced between the two of them. “Fuck, Jules, I’m sorry. I wasn’t -” 

Julia waved her hand. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I don’t care, he clearly wasn’t into me.” She wiggled her eyebrows at Sophie, grinning. “Had his eye on you all night.” 

“Fucking hell.” Sophie cursed, pressing her hand to her neck. “If this is still here on Monday, I can’t go to class. I can’t.” 

In the end, Allie forced her out the door for class after Julia skillfully applied three layers of concealer to Sophie’s neck. Sophie told herself she would play nice, for once, and tried catching his eye during the entire class, but Rafe didn’t glance in her direction once. She felt like her heart was going to beat straight out of her chest as she pulled him aside after class, resolving to confront the situation head-on. The exact opposite happened and she regretted playing dumb the second the words left her mouth. 

“I meant to ask, did you have fun at the party with Julia? I honestly don’t remember much after the bus back to Theta.” 

As Rafe’s face dropped, she clutched at the straps of her backpack, wanting to just shrink away in embarrassment. She kept up the small talk for only a few moments later before watching him walk off alone. Sophie ignored the small voice in her head yelling at her to go after him, explain things, but realized she had nothing to explain. It was simply a drunken makeout, she decided, nothing more. 

Of course, he had to ruin that plan of ignoring things by getting her coffee from her favorite place for their study date. 

“Where’d you get the coffee?” Allie questioned her the second Sophie returned to their room Tuesday night, struggling to hold back a smile. 

“Rafe brought it. For our study date.” 

“Date?” Julia teased, sending Sophie a wink. 

Sophie blushed, shaking her head quickly. “You know what I mean!” 

“You know, if you weren’t so stubborn, you could just get together already.” Julia pointed out, rolling her eyes. 

Sophie scoffed right away. “Yeah, okay. When hell freezes over, maybe.” She took a seat on the futon, pulling out her phone to distract herself from the conversation. That lasted for approximately two minutes until Allie broke the silence. 

“Soph...why are you so against the idea of you two?” Allie asked, treading carefully around the subject. The last time she had brought it up, sophomore year, Sophie had reacted worse than when Julia had tried to set her up with a Michigan basketball player she knew (“not the enemy, Jules!”). 

“I...I don’t know.” Sophie avoided eye contact from both her roommates and ducked her head down as she thought. “We fight too much.” She decided, giving herself an easy out. 

“You two are like magnets are every party.” Julia pointed out. “Fighting is a cop out, and you know it.” 

Sophie huffed and stood, crossing the room to leave. “I don’t want to talk about it, it’s nothing.” 

“You’re going to have to figure it out someday.” Julia pushed, sticking her foot in front of the door. 

Sophie frowned and gently kicked her foot away before she left. “Not today.” 

_ 

She was distracted again in class, barely paying attention when Rafe finally sat next to her in their assigned seats. He kept tapping his pencil against the desk in a steady pattern as their professor lectured.

Midway through class, Sophie reached out, placing her hand on top of his. “Stop.” She hissed, nudging her knee against his under the table.

He didn’t tug his hand away like she expected he would. “You stop.” Rafe whispered back, smirking.

There was something about the smug smirk that made her want to both kiss him senseless and slap him across the face. 

“You drive me fucking crazy.” She muttered, pulling her hand back to her desk. 

He grinned and leaned closer, his voice husky as he whispered. “I should hope so.” 

She closed her eyes to keep her composure, letting out a slow breath. “Rafe.” He leaned back in his seat, satisfied, and redirected his attention to the lecture. Sophie grumbled and angled her seat away from his as she continued to take notes, doing her best to ignore his presence.

When the lecture ended a few minutes later, he bumped his shoulder against hers as they packed up. “Hey. Um. Does your offer still stand?” 

Sophie softened, surprising him with a smile. “For family weekend? Yeah, of course. I’ll come over to Delt and we can walk over together.” 

“You don’t want to drive?” 

“Nah, don’t want to mess with parking. And I’m not planning on staying sober.” She grinned.

He swallowed, thinking about what happened the last time she was drunk. “Right, okay. I’ll see you then.” 

_

Sophie showed up on the front porch of Delta Tau Delta right on time like she promised. She hesitated, about to ring the doorbell, then decided to just wait outside, shooting Rafe a quick text. Upstairs, Rafe had changed into his third polo of the day and was currently sporting his second jacket he had tried on, fixing his hair in the mirror. 

“You gotta chill the fuck out, dude.” James told him, watching skeptically as Rafe combed gel through his hair. 

At the ding of his phone, Rafe groaned, decidedly not ready. “Colin, can you get that?” 

Colin reached over and grabbed Rafe’s phone, then raised his eyebrows just slightly. “It’s just an email. Hey James, come check on the tailgate out back with me?”

James grumbled but rose from the bed, following Colin out the door. “Can’t you boss around the pledges on your own?” 

The second they were down the hall, Colin grabbed James’ arm and hustled him down the stairs. James yanked his arm away, trying to smack him upside the head before Colin batted his hand away with a smirk. “What the fuck are you doing?” James asked.

Colin grinned, holding up Rafe’s phone. “Sophie’s here.” 

“Ahhh.” James nodded knowingly and followed him out to the front door. Sophie glanced up from her phone when the two boys swung both the front doors open, flanking either side of the doorframe.

“Sophie, hello!” Colin greeted her with a broad grin, waving her inside.

She stood slowly from the porch bench, tilting her head slightly. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I remember your names…” 

James shook his head. “Nah, we haven’t met. But we’ve just heard so much about you from Rafe!” 

“Our roommate.” Colin clarified. “Come in, we’ll get you a drink! He’s still getting ready.” Sophie nodded and followed them both inside, making their way to the kitchen past a couple groups of girls there for the pregame. 

After a couple minutes alone upstairs, Rafe turned to check his phone on his own but couldn’t find it. He immediately cursed, figuring James and Colin were up to something, and allowed himself another glance in the mirror before rushing downstairs. After asking a pledge where they went, he found James and Colin in the kitchen with Sophie. She looked a little bemused as she accepted a White Claw from them, glancing around for Rafe. 

“Sophie!” Rafe called out across the room, making his way to them. His jaw was slightly gritted as he slung a tight arm around James’ shoulder, shaking his head. “Don’t believe anything they’ve told you, alright?” 

Sophie laughed, taking a quick sip. “I like your friends, they’re fun.”

Colin grinned. “Hear that, Rafe? We’re fun.”

Rafe grumbled, dropping his arm from James. “Yeah, yeah. Soph, you ready?” She nodded, giggling as Colin and James called out ‘be safe!’ in unison behind them as they left the house. They fell into an easy stride outside, heading toward the stadium.

Sophie reached out, lightly brushing her fingers across his hair. “Did you put something in your hair? I thought you ditched that in college.” 

Rafe blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah, just got kind of lazy with it. Why, does it look bad?” 

“No! No, it doesn’t at all.” She replied hurriedly. “Just haven’t seen it like that since high school.” 

“Oh.” He nodded, reassured. “Dunno, just wanted to look a little nicer to see your parents, I guess.” 

“It’s not like you have to impress them or something, they know you.” 

“Yeah, but I’m crashing your family weekend. I’ve got to make a decent impression.” 

“You’re fine, Rafe, don’t worry about it. I mentioned you were coming to my dad and he sounded more excited to see you than me.” She laughed and he relaxed just slightly, but kept his hands shoved in his jacket pockets.

“Okay, so. I gotta know how you ended up as such an…” He paused, searching for the words. “Such an outspoken, feminist environmentalist when your parents are so…” he trailed off again.

Sophie raised her eyebrows. “Not?” 

He nodded. “Yeah, basically. I did not expect that golf debate from you, given that your dad probably spends 50 hours a week at the golf course.”

She laughed, touching his arm for a moment. “I mean, I already had those ideals but college has helped. Education, baby.” He suddenly felt warm at the term of endearment, ducking his head down for a moment so she couldn’t see his blush. 

They kept up easy small talk until they arrived at a house just a street away from the stadium, packed with alumni and students alike tailgating. Sophie was greeted by several people almost instantly and gave them quick smiles before taking Rafe’s hand to guide him through the party to find her parents. He couldn’t help but grin. 

“Mom! Dad!” She called out, grabbing their attention as they came closer. She dropped Rafe’s hand but her mom didn’t miss it, giving them a knowing glance between the two. Sophie shook her head imperceptibly, making her mom just laugh. She gestured at Rafe, as if presenting him. “Mom, Dad, you guys know Rafe. Say hi.”

Her dad grinned, shaking Rafe’s hand heartily. “Good to see you, kid. Your dad didn’t make it out?”

Rafe shook his head but offered a broad smile in response. “No, not this year. Business stuff.” 

“Ahh, always working.” Her dad nodded knowingly, reaching into the cooler. “Well, no worries, you get to hang with us instead. “What are you drinking, Rafe?” 

“Oh, uh, just a beer, Mr. Flint.” 

Her dad laughed. “You called me Jeff all through your lessons in high school and now we’re back to formalities? Knock it off.” 

Rafe nodded, fully relaxing as he accepted a beer from him. “Sorry, habit. How are you, Mrs. Flint?” 

“I’m good, Rafe, it’s nice to see you.” She stepped forward, giving her daughter a hug and tugged on the end of Sophie’s tight denim skirt. “Sophie, could you have worn something shorter? You’re going to be freezing halfway through the game.”

Sophie hid a grin as she took a sip from a beer. “Not if I’m drinking properly, Mom.”

Her mom shook her head, letting out a big sigh but ruffled Sophie’s hair affectionately. “You’re still 20 for a couple weeks, child, remember that.” 

“Yeah, yeah. C’mon Rafe, let’s go find my brother.” Sophie excused them from the conversation, taking his hand again to wind them through the party.

Rafe leaned in close as he followed behind, a teasing lilt to his voice. “I don’t mind how short your skirt is.”

She rolled her eyes but was grateful she was leading him, as she felt a blush creep onto her face. “I don’t remember asking you.” 

She found her brother with some friends in the kitchen and knocked back the rest of her beer to help herself to another from the fridge. “Hey, Carter, you remember Rafe?” She kept ahold of Rafe’s hand this time, stepping into his side.

Her brother, Carter, looked over the two of them with a wary eye. “Course I do. How’ve you been, Cameron?” His tone was friendly, but Rafe could tell otherwise from his stiff posture.

“I’m good. Soph told me you’re in grad school here? What are you studying?” 

“Soph told you, huh?” Carter repeated, emphasizing the nickname and shooting Sophie a glance, unreadable to Rafe. She rolled her eyes as she watched the interaction and traded Rafe’s empty beer can for a new one. “I’m getting my master’s in civil engineering. You? How’d you end up here from the Outer Banks?” 

“Thought I’d look for something different than what I was used to. And there’s a good business program here.” Rafe responded, thanking Sophie quietly for the new drink. 

“Hm.” Carter replied curtly and Rafe was reminded in the moment of how much he resembled Sophie, especially when she made a point to argue with him. His lips turned up in an amused smile. “Something funny, Cameron?” Carter asked, breaking Rafe’s reverie.

“Huh? No, just thinking.”

Sophie shook her head. “Stand down, Carter. Rafe, let’s go find someone more entertaining.” She grinned at her brother as she took Rafe’s hand again, leading him away. 

“I don’t think he likes me too much.” Rafe mentioned as they made their way to the front porch.

Sophie hopped up on the porch railing to face him. “He’s just protective. He’s not very friendly to any guy I introduce him to.” She took a drink, watching Rafe smirk, then shook her head quickly. “Not that you’re - I mean, you’re not -” 

Rafe laughed and leaned forward, placing both hands on either side of her on the railing. It was friendly, maybe with a hint of flirting, but Sophie shivered all the same. “You’re fine, Flint, I know what you mean. When are we heading over to the game?” 

“Soon. I want another drink first though, I know the rules better when I’m not sober.” She tilted back her head to catch the last couple drops from her can, trying her best to ignore his steady gaze.

He laughed. “That makes zero sense.”

She ran her tongue over her lips subconsciously. “It makes sense to me.” 

“Uh huh.” Rafe leaned back just enough to finish his beer like her. “There’s twenty minutes to kickoff, how about we grab one more and head over?” 

Sophie took the opportunity to hop down from the railing, nudging him aside with a hand on his chest. “Bet I can shotgun faster than you.” 

“Is that a challenge?” He raised his eyebrows and took her empty can, tossing them both. 

“Always, Cameron.” She grinned, grabbing two drinks for them from a cooler.

Rafe wrinkled his nose as he accepted the drink. “White Claw, Soph, really?”

She took out her key and stabbed the can, then handed it over to him. “What, can’t handle it? Would you prefer a piss-warm beer?”

He scowled, bringing it to his lips. “Ready?” 

“Ready.” They popped the tab at the same time and kept eye contact as they chugged, Rafe stepping away as Sophie tried stepping on his toe to distract him. He finished moments before her and threw down his can triumphantly, raising his hands in victory. “Ha! Beat you!”

Sophie groaned and grabbed new cans right away. “Rematch.” 

“Don’t be a sore loser.” Rafe teased, but took the can anyways. 

“Don’t be so proud about finishing first.” Sophie shot back with a proud smirk. 

He laughed, loud. “That’s a good one. Just one more, yeah?” 

“Yeah, I’ll win and we can call it good.” 

He grinned. “You’re cute when you’re persistent.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Fuck off.”

He just laughed again and stabbed both their cans, then lifted his to his lips. “Ready to lose?”

Sophie responded by popping her tab just quick enough to give her a tiny head start. She finished just before him this time, dropping her can - but a shot’s worth of alcohol dripped out onto the porch, betraying her.

“You cheated!” Rafe pointed out, grabbing up the can and pointing out the evidence.

She blushed but crossed her arms, lifting her chin. “Did not. That’s...condensation.” 

“It’s okay, Soph, just say I’m better.” He smirked. 

“Except you’re not, and I never lie.” She retorted. 

“You’re turning red.” 

“I’m not.” 

“You’re lying again.” 

She huffed, folding her arms across her chest. “Thank you for reminding me why I hate you.” 

At that moment, her parents walked out from the house, her dad laughing as he caught the last of Sophie’s words. “There’s the Rafe and Sophie I know. I thought you were being too nice.”

Her mom tutted, elbowing her dad’s side. “Are you two ready for the game?”

Sophie bent down to pick up the cans from the porch and throw them away, wobbling slightly when she stood up too quickly and plastered on a smile for her mom. “Yes, we’re ready.” 

Rafe grinned, catching her elbow to keep her steady. “Didn’t peg you as a lightweight, Soph.” He murmured, so only she could hear.

“It’s the heels.” She replied lamely, gesturing to her boots.

“You’re underage, Sophie. Don’t be a bad influence.” Her mom reminded her, starting off with her dad toward the stadium. Sophie and Rafe followed close behind and he laughed at her mom’s sentiment. 

They were pretty engrossed throughout the game, Rafe enjoying her family’s company. He was caught off guard a couple times by her dad slinging an arm around him in celebration after a touchdown, or her mom reaching over for a high-five, but gradually grew more comfortable. Sophie took several opportunities to sneak him shooters throughout the game, trying to knock them back as discretely as possible even though her mom was just a few seats away. (Her dad participated in a round of shots when her mom left for the restroom at halftime.) The alcohol and lack of food went straight to her head, and by the end of the game, she was leaning completely into Rafe, her arm wrapped around his waist. 

“You’re trouble, Soph.” Rafe murmured to her, laughing at her obvious blush. 

“I’m just keeping the game fun. Poor Indiana has been getting blown out since the first quarter.” She rested her head on his shoulder and he cleared his throat, reminding himself this was only because she was drunk.

“Ready to go?”

Sophie shivered, crossing her arms. “Yeah, fine. To the bars?”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and rubbed her arm, trying to warm her up. “I don’t know about that, I think you need some food.” 

“Rafe, are you joining us for dinner?” Her mom interrupted them with a friendly smile.

“Um, no, I don’t want to intrude. I really appreciate you letting me hang around for most of the day though, I had a lot of fun.” He countered quickly, moving Sophie to stand upright.

She let out a quiet whine and he dug his fingers just slightly into her shoulder.

“You’re welcome to join if you’d like.” Her dad replied, giving Rafe a second chance. 

“No, no, it’s alright. I’m going to catch up with my friends, thank you though.” He denied the offer again. “I’ll see you in class, yeah Soph?” 

She patted his cheek with a dopey smile. “See you in class, buddy.” 

Rafe grinned, shaking his head before he turned away to walk home on his own. “Call me if you want a ride later. It was good to see you both!” He waved goodbye to her parents, walking away. 

taglist: @obx-saltlife​ @dontjinx-it @butgilinsky @oopsiedoopsie23 @taiter-tots @annedub​ @alexandracheers​

[jlalafics]

Could you please reblog your lesbian!Peeta story for me

Sure! I hope this is the one you’re thinking of!

_______

“You can shut off the lights now.”

Delly Cartwright, Peeta’s friend and business manager, looked to her and gave a sympathetic smile.

“You did well for a new business owner, Peeta,” she continued. Gathering some of the go-backs, Delly started to head over to the racks. “You opened a record shop. It wasn’t exactly going to be busy every day, but from a business standpoint, you did well for your first week.”

Peeta gathered her golden locks into a ponytail and took the broom next to her to sweep up.

“I guess you’re right,” Peeta replied.

She had fair sales for her opening week; it had always been her dream to open a shop of her own and her love for vinyl clinched her decision to open a record store. There was hope of expanding to a used bookstore, but it seemed that it would be awhile before that would happen.

“Don’t you have a husband to get home to?” Peeta asked her friend. “Thom must be annoyed that you’re spending all your time with me.”

“Thom wouldn’t have a full-service coffee bar if it weren’t for his wife’s business savvy,” Delly retorted. She pushed herself onto the wood counter. “He can sacrifice time so I can help out one of my best friends.”

“Really though.” Returning the broom to its place, Peeta met her friend’s light eyes. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” Suddenly, Delly’s mouth formed into a smirk. “I mean it wouldn’t hurt if you had a partner to support and help you out. I met this great girl at Thom’s bar—”

“You know what—” Peeta lifted her petite friend off the counter easily, placing her by the front door. “—I think you should go home. You’re obviously exhausted.”

“You win this round, Mellark,” Delly declared with a chuckle. “We’ll see you for Sunday brunch at our place.”

Stepping out, Peeta watched her friend get into her car and drive off before walking back into the store.

Sighing, she let herself admit that she was lonely.

It had been two years since her last relationship and about six months since her last date. Her brothers were both in long-term relationships; Dean, her eldest brother, married to Olivia, his college girlfriend, with two kids and one on the way while Rye, the middle child, engaged to Johanna, one of Peeta’s closest friends and her former roommate.

While she, the youngest and only girl, was still single.

Peeta wasn’t looking for just anyone.

Whoever she was had to be more.

So, for the time being, she would just have to focus on getting the store up and running.

++++++

Locking up the store, Peeta buttoned her rust peacoat and headed towards her bus stop. Her place was fifteen minutes away—just a few blocks—but the fall season had caused the city to go dark once it hit six in the evening.

“Hey girl!”

The group of guys from the bar across the street called out. There were a few catcalls and she ignored it, speeding up her pace towards the bus stop at the end of the block. Her heart stuttered in nervousness as she heard the footfalls heading towards her.

Suddenly, one of the guys was standing in front of her. “Where you heading, sweetheart?”

Peeta didn’t reply, only taking in a description of the guy…mid-twenties, dark beard, medium height, sharp dark eyes wearing a grey hoodie, black tank, and dark jeans.

So, basically any random guy.

Dean was a cop and he had always taught her what to do if she was in a situation like this. However, it didn’t seem to be helping as she found herself surrounded by the rest of the group.

So, Peeta went for Rye’s method and fully rushed at the guy in front of her, trying to knee him in the groin.

He pushed her and Peeta was knocked down, the back of her head hitting the concrete.

There was the pain of impact…and then darkness.

++++++

“Miss Mellark…can you open your eyes?” Peeta blinked, her vision blurred and the white light causing her eyes to close again. “Take your time.”

She followed the kind voice, allowing herself to adjust before opening her eyes once more.

“There you go,” the voice said gently. “You gave us a scare when you came in.”

Her vision cleared and the warmest set of eyes greeted her. Almond-shaped and dove grey, the eyes were set in a heart-shaped face along with a pert nose and rose lips, her skin was a soft olive and her raven hair was tied back in a neat braid.

“Where am I?” she asked as the bed was slowly elevated.

“You are in the hospital,” the woman in the blue scrubs informed her. “My name is Katniss and I’m your nurse. You were mugged; the perp got your credit cards but left the rest of your wallet since there wasn’t any money. Can you tell me your name?”

“Peeta. Peeta Mellark.”

Katniss looked at her in confusion. “Your ID says Pieta Mellark.”

“When I was born, my parents tried to teach my brother Rye how to say me name properly, Pee-et-ta, but he couldn’t get it and kept pronouncing my name as Pee-ta. So, it kind of stuck.”

The nurse chuckled. “I like both your names.” Katniss looked over her chart and then to her. “We’re just making sure that you’re CT scan comes out clean and then we can release you. Do you have anyone that we can call? Your family?”

“I don’t want to worry my parents and they’re an hour away, and my brothers have families,” she explained. “Once I’m released, I’ll just head on home.”

“Your name fits you,” Katniss remarked. “Pieta means compassion. A lot of people would milk themselves getting injured, but not you. You’re more concerned about everyone else around you.”

“Give me a day or two and I’ll be at home, feeling sorry for myself,” Peeta replied. “Your name is a plant.”

The nurse grinned. “How did you know?”

“When we were all kids, my parents took us camping,” she explained. “And my Dad told me that if for some reason, I got lost in the woods then I just needed to find you to survive.”

Katniss blushed, her cheeks flooding with color, and Peeta found herself breathless in the prettiness of it all.

“I suppose that could also apply to non-camping situations,” Katniss responded. “Get some rest, Peeta, and I’ll check up on your results.”

++++++

“I’m really alright, Haymitch,” Peeta assured her business partner on the phone. “They kept me overnight for observation, but they didn’t see anything in the CT scan.”

“We should install cameras in the front,” the man insisted. “You could’ve been killed or assaulted!”

“Well, they checked if there was any trauma down there and everything seemed right as rain,” she assured him. “My vagina is perfectly intact.”

There was a cough and she turned to see Katniss standing before, a black bomber jacket over her scrubs and her hair down in long waves.

“I really didn’t need to hear that,” the man muttered. “Just call me when you get home, okay? Also, get an Uber and put it on our business credit card.”

“Ah…you should probably call about that,” Peeta replied. “Some of my credit cards are missing.”

“I’m right on it,” Haymitch responded. “Go home and get some rest. I’ll open the store tomorrow.”

“Thanks.” Hanging up, Peeta stuffed her phone into her jean pocket before turning to the woman. “Getting off?”

Katniss looked to her in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“Work. You off from your shift?”

The blush invaded her lovely face and she nodded quickly. “Oh yeah! Just heading out. How about you?”

“Yeah, just needed to check in with Haymitch, my partner,” Peeta explained.

“Oh.” Katniss’ expression dropped. “Why wouldn’t your boyfriend pick you up?”

Peeta snorted at the idea.

“Haymitch is my business partner.” She looked to the woman beside her. “You heading home to your boyfriend?”

The woman shook her head. “I’ve got some leftover pasta and A Walk to Remember on Netflix, but that’s about it.”

“Would you want to join me for a cup of coffee?” Peeta found herself asking. “Thom, my best friend’s husband owns a coffee shop a few blocks down. It will be on me—or on Delly, my best friend—your coffee, I mean…”

Shit, Peeta was going about this all wrong. She didn’t even know if Katniss was into girls.

“Sure.”

Her head snapped up at Katniss’ response and Peeta smiled. “Okay.”

They headed onto the sidewalk in front of the hospital. It was a beautiful morning, chilled but brimming with potential to be a gorgeous day of clear skies and temperate weather.

“How long have you been a nurse?” Peeta asked as they headed down towards Thom’s coffee bar.

“About three years,” Katniss said. “Got this job right out of school. My mom was head nurse at the hospital before retiring a few years ago and I guess nepotism worked in my favor. I might actually be a really crappy nurse.”

“No, you definitely aren’t,” Peeta argued. “You have a natural empathy.”

“How so?”

“When I woke up, I was scared as hell,” she told the woman next to her. They stopped at the crosswalk and Peeta met Katniss’ gaze. “But, when I heard your voice, I knew that I would be okay. You made me feel safe.”

“That’s a lot to put on a girl,” Katniss said quietly. “But I’m glad that I could help.”

Their eyes met and it was like a magnetic force that Peeta found her hand tucking back a tendril of Katniss’ hair behind her ear. Her fingers lingered, feeling the softness of her dark waves and Katniss’ breath caught at the gesture.

Her hand covered Peeta’s and the sensation drew a sharp gasp from Peeta’s mouth.

It had been a long time since she had felt like this.

Stepping towards Katniss, she waited to see if the woman would retreat.

However, Katniss remained still, her mouth parted and her eyelids going half-lidded as Peeta close the space between.

The kiss was careful, her mouth slanting over Katniss’ gently. The feeling of her soft lips caused a groan to draw up from the pit of Peeta’s stomach and escape between their mouths.

It was scary but exhilarating all at once and Peeta never wanted to let her go.

However, Katniss hummed against her lips and reluctantly she pulled away.

“I probably wasn’t supposed to do that,” Peeta told her.

Katniss looked disappointed. “Oh, okay.”

“I mean not without taking you out on a date first.”

Katniss let out a relieved laugh. “Well, we just cut out the needless tension of the first kiss, didn’t we?”

“I guess so,” Peeta replied, taking her hand. “So…”

‘…would like to stay indefinitely?’

“Would you like to have coffee first and then dinner later?”

“And, between then?” Katniss asked, her thumb caressing the top of Peeta’s hand.

“Whatever we want, I have all day.”

I have forever for you.

“Okay.” Katniss beamed. “Let’s start with the coffee.”

[noona-clock]

Him

Genre: College!AU, Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Jinyoung x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 | Words: 1,685

“And that’s all I got for you today, folks,” your professor announced before closing his laptop and ending the slideshow presentation. “Class dismissed.”

A low buzz of activity suddenly filled the lecture hall as your fellow classmates began to pack up their bags and then make their way to the door. Once you slipped your laptop into your backpack, you followed them, sidling down your row of seats and loping down the stairs.

Before you reached the door, though, your professor called out your name. “One second,” he said.

Your brow furrowed slightly, and you gripped one strap of your backpack as you turned toward him. “Yes, sir?”

“Are you still interested in a TA position?”

The wrinkle in your forehead suddenly smoothed out as your eyebrows rose. “Oh -- yes. Yes, absolutely.”

Last week, you’d asked your professor if he would need a teaching assistant for this class next semester. Unfortunately, he’d said ‘no’ at the time, but maybe now he’d changed his mind! 

Your parents’ business had run into some financial trouble recently, so you would have to pay your own way through school from now on -- but it was way too late to apply for a scholarship this year, which meant you had to find a job. And fast.

Obviously, you would work retail or in one of the campus food halls if you had to, but a TA position was perfect for you and your organizational skills -- especially for a professor in the literature department.

“A colleague of mine was talking about needing one, so I thought I would tip you off,” he continued, and while it was little disappointing he didn’t need one himself, you couldn’t afford to be picky right now!

...You actually couldn’t afford anything.

“Thank you so much,” you replied, shooting him a hopeful grin. “That would be perfect.”

Your professor reached for a sheet of paper on the lecture stand and handed it to you. “It’s Professor Stewart, he teaches Medieval Literature.”

Well. Your major was British Literature, but hey. Britain was around in Medieval times, so you could totally follow along with the curriculum.

Hopefully.

You took the application from him, and he gave you Professor Stewart’s office room number before you thanked him again and headed out the door.

You decided to fill it out now so you wouldn’t get caught up in your studies and forget, so after exiting the lecture hall, you made a beeline to one of the study rooms in the literature building.

After scratching down your information and answering all of the questions in your favorite green ink pen, you hurried out of the study room and made your way to the offices on the second floor.

You searched the small numbers on the side of each door, looking for the one your professor had given you not even fifteen minutes ago. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw another figure coming down the hallway from the opposite end, walking toward you, so you stepped over just a bit to the side so he -- or she -- could get past you.

But when you found the office number you were looking for and stopped walking... so did the other person.

You shifted your gaze to look at this other person, quickly realizing it was a him.

And... a very handsome him.

“Excuse me,” he murmured, and you once again stepped to the side so he could get past you.

But he stepped to the side at the same time, like he was allowing you to get by.

“Sorry,” you chuckled awkwardly, now taking a step to the other side.

...But he did the exact same thing.

“I -- I’m trying to get to this office, actually,” you explained, your lips curved into a very clumsy grin.

“Oh,” the guy replied as his brow furrowed. “...So am I.”

And it was then you noticed he had a piece of paper in his hand just like you did.

“Are --” you gulped. “Are you applying for the --”

“TA position for Professor Stewart,” he finished. “Yes.”

You shifted your weight slightly and let out another awkward chuckle. “Me -- me too. I really need a job, and who wants to wash dishes in the dining hall, right?”

You weren’t sure why, but you anticipated the same sort of reaction from him. He would let out a nervous laugh, smile a bit anxiously, and wish you luck.

Instead, you got raised eyebrows. You got a very serious expression. 

And you got, “I have the highest GPA in the department, and I’ve taken two of Professor Stewart’s classes before. You should probably just recycle that, if I’m being honest.”

It took everything in you not to jerk your head back with surprise.

But you did knit your brows together and say, “Excuse me?” in a very annoyed and confused tone.

“I’m going to get the job.”

You just kind of... stared at him for a few moments before letting out a disbelieving laugh. “What makes you so sure? My professor seems to think --”

“I already said,” he interrupted. “I have the highest GPA in the department. Professor Stewart knows me. He knows how impeccable my work is, there’s no reason why he wouldn’t accept me.”

“My work is impeccable, too!” you scoffed.

“Trust me. As soon as he sees my name on the application --” The guy turned his piece of paper around and tapped on his name.

Park Jinyoung.

“He won’t have to even look at yours.”

“Okay, getting hired simply because the boss knows you is called ‘nepotism.’ You know that, right?” you reminded him, trying your absolute best not to sneer at him.

One corner of Jinyoung’s mouth quirked, and he murmured, “Well, at least your vocabulary skills aren’t lacking.”

All right -- it was time to ask a question you should’ve asked about two minutes ago. “I’m sorry, do we know each other?”

Jinyoung immediately shook his head.

You narrowed your eyes in confusion, your forehead even more wrinkled than it had been just a few moments ago. “Do you always treat people you’ve just met like this?”

I mean! The guy was being incredibly arrogant and had just insulted you! ‘Well, at least your vocabulary skills aren’t lacking.’ Who says that without even knowing someone’s name?!

Jinyoung looked at you as if you were just a little bit crazy before he let out a soft chuckle and answered you. “No, of course not.”

“Ah, so I’m just that lucky,” you retorted, barely holding yourself back from rolling your eyes.

“Not it when it comes to getting this TA position.”

You actually laughed at that. You had to! Because the nerve of him! It was so ridiculous that you had to laugh -- otherwise, you probably would have punched him. And there was a good chance Professor Stewart would have found out about it which would have definitely hurt your chances of getting the position.

“I guess we’ll leave that up to Professor Stewart,” you countered with pursed lips. You reached over to open up the mail slot in Professor Stewart’s office door and slid your application through.

If Jinyoung had been a normal person -- meaning polite and not a total asshole -- you would have held the thin, metal flap open for him so he could slide his application in, too.

But he wasn’t a normal person. He wasn’t polite. He was a total asshole.

So, you didn’t hold it open for him.

You let it close with a fairly loud clang, turned on your heel, and strode away from him with your head held as high it could possibly be.

It wasn’t until you stepped outside of the literature building that you let out an extremely frustrated groan. Honestly, you felt like clenching your fists and stomping your feet, too -- but you would hold off on giving into those urges until you got back to your apartment.

Seriously, though! You had never in your life met someone so irritating and arrogant and annoying and handsome and aggravating and presumptuous as that guy! That -- that Park Jinyoung.

Ugh!

Hopefully -- if there was some higher being out there in the universe -- you would never run into him again. You hadn’t run into him before today, so it stood to reason that the odds of seeing him after today were pretty slim.

As you marched toward the nearest bus stop on your apartment complex’s route, you realized -- he hadn’t even asked you what your name was. You hadn’t given it to him, and even if he had asked, you probably wouldn’t have answered.

The fact he didn’t know your name was a pretty good sign that he probably wasn’t fuming about you as you were about him. So, you would let yourself be bothered on the bus ride home, and then you would stop.

You would stop thinking about his arrogance. His stupid little smirk. His dumb face. My word, did he have a dumb face. Just thinking about it made you even more angry than you already were.

But what put the icing on your angry cake?

His dumb face was just so perfect. 

How sad that his extremely good looks -- and I mean extremely -- were wasted on someone with that personality!

Okay, you should probably just stop thinking about him now. The bus ride was far too long to let your thoughts go on like this. The bus wasn’t even here yet.

So, you took off your backpack and plopped down onto the bench with a sigh.

That was it. No more thinking about -- no, you wouldn’t even think his name. No more thinking about him. Instead, you would think about an email to draft and send to Professor Stewart once you got home. That was definitely more worth your time than... him.

In fact, by tomorrow, you were pretty sure you would forget all about him!

Yep.

Totally!

He would be 100% completely and utterly and positively forgotten.

Part 2

[ambitionsource]

AMBITION Season 3 ♫ “Jolly Holiday, Part 1” [ 3.13 ]

CREATED BY Esther (waterstribe) & Maggie (quincywillows) || Official Page || AO3

GOD SAVE THE DREAM – The A class embarks on their senior class trip. Charlie graduates high school. The lingering wait for college admissions has some on edge, and one person receives difficult news. Lucas’s UC interview is thrown into jeopardy.

73 Minutes (36K words) || No content warnings apply.

[ ← Dylan and Asher ] [ S3 Synopsis ] [ Jolly Holiday, Part 2 → ]

( Follow along with the music on Spotify here! )

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - NIGHT

The Adams lobby is packed for a typical evening, members of the A class gathered with a decent amount of luggage. Some chat with their parents and pass off last-minute things; RANDALL ORLANDO hands DYLAN ORLANDO his passport, which he accepts with a sheepish grin while ASHER GARCIA heaves a great sigh of relief.

HARPER BURGESS weaves her way around with a checklist, greeting each student and marking them present. We continue even deeper into the school, away from the hustle and bustle…

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - NIGHT

To the comparatively quiet counselor’s office, though ERIC MATTHEWS does not seem peaceful. He’s harried as he digs through paperwork at his desk, muttering to himself and stuffing everything into a pretty dense binder labeled “SENIOR TRIP - A CLASS.”

JACK HUNTER appears in the doorway, watching for a few moments with an amused smile on his face. Then he knocks lightly on the open door, leaning in the doorframe. Eric jumps, only making Jack smile wider.

Jack: So B class left for their trip this morning, A class is gearing up now… and how are you doing? You seem good. Relaxed.

Eric: Don’t even. Don’t start with me.

Jack, innocently: [ unable to stop grinning ] What?

Eric: B class was simple. B class was easy -- they’re always easy. We let them choose where they wanted to go, and what did they pick? Disney World. Easy. Stuffed them onto a charter bus and shipped them down the coast with Norton and the chaperones this morning. Easy.

Jack: Should get some good exposure to the industry. They’re doing the backstage tour, right? I’ve heard it’s illuminating.

Eric: Then we let A class pick, and did they go simple? Did they go easy? No. Because they’re never simple. They are never easy. No, they wanted to go abroad. [ with a withering look ] This is all your fault.

Jack: [ with a scoff ] Me? Why me?

Eric: You’re the one who approved the trip! Sure, let them cross the Atlantic, you said. It’ll be fun, Eric, you said.

Jack: And I’m sure it will be.

Eric: Yes, and easy for you to say, since you’re not going. I’m the one who has to make sure none of them die, or go missing, or violate international law --

Jack laughs, sauntering further into the room and reassuring Eric that it’ll be fine. Once they get through the logistical nightmare that is travel, they’re going to have a swell time. Besides, at least he’s not doing it alone.

Jack: You’ll be fine. You’re a great leader, and the kids trust you. You won’t let one get set adrift across the pond.

Eric: We literally lost two students at prom last year.

Jack: And now one of them is your daughter. Doubt she’ll be nearly as much trouble. And you’ll have Harper with you, who you know is an excellent chaperone. I mean, count your blessings -- at least you’re not traveling with Shawn.

True, true… talk about a negligent chaperone. Eric shudders at the thought, shaking his head and finishing securing his travel binder. Jack observes him and contemplates the best way to change topics. He leans forward casually against the back of the chair opposite Eric’s desk, going for nonchalant.

Jack: Speaking of your impeccable leadership… I’ve been thinking. You should consider applying for my job.

Eric stops what he’s doing. He lifts his head, eyes wide.

Eric: What?

Jack, quickly: I just think it could be a good exercise, that’s all. Good practice.

Eric: Don’t be ridiculous. You know they’re going to hand that job back to you no contest -- no matter how hard Yancy and Jefferson campaign under the table.

Jack: Sure, sure. Absolutely. [ a beat ] But that’s all the more reason to use this opportunity. I mean, you’re an ideal candidate, given your history with the school. Evelyn likes you just as much as me --

Eric: Not true. You are by far her favorite.

Jack: And you’ve got all the credentials. I know you like being a counselor, and don’t get me wrong, you’re damn good at it. But why take all those masters courses to get the certification if you never considered using them?

Jack has a point there. Though their paths were quite different leading to where they are now, with different levels of study, Eric is technically (and definitely) qualified to apply if he wanted. As for if he wants to… Jack’s guidance certainly seems to have him thinking, if nothing else.

Jack: Anyway, it was just a suggestion. No pressure, you know. Just think about it. Filling out the application. Seeing what it’s like.

Eric: As if I don’t have enough to think about right now. How is yours going? Pretty easy to put together I’m guessing.

Ah, yes… Jack sidesteps the question, claiming he’s just putting on the finishing touches. Which he’ll have plenty of time to do while the school is quiet and the A class is out of his hair for a week. Eric says lucky him, which prompts a chuckle from both of them.

Once the laughter peters out, the moment becomes unexpectedly soft -- just shared smiles and momentary quiet. Eric clears his throat.

Eric: You’re sure you can’t come? Think now would be the time to have my authoritarian.

A little vacation abroad would sure be nice… but alas. Important business to handle here. Jack offers a bittersweet shrug, nodding to the rest of the school behind them.

Jack: Duty calls. Should enjoy it while it lasts.

While he’s still principal, may as well act like it. Eric sighs, but accepts that, hefting his colossal trip binder into his hiking backpack.

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - DAY

By the steps, MAYA HART finishes repacking her suitcase, trying to get it under the acceptable weight limit. ISADORA DE LA CRUZ is doing her the favor of sitting on top of it, while FARKLE MINKUS eyes the undertaking skeptically.

Farkle: It’s a class trip, Maya. How many pairs of shoes do you need?

Maya: It’s an affront that you even have to ask that question.

Isadora: It’s an affront that this thing weighs more than me.

Farkle: Probably more than both of us combined.

Isadora: You don’t add much.

Touché! Isadora is also going through Maya’s purse, making a face when she pulls out a folded up piece of paper. Maya’s acceptance letter to NYU Tisch.

Isadora: You carry this around in your purse?

Maya: Be careful with that!

She snatches it from her, smoothing out the corners.

Maya: You’ll crumple the edges. But yes, why wouldn’t I? It’s my greatest achievement to date -- sans your mom’s coat, of course. I like to think of it like a good luck charm. My aura cleanser even did a fortune ceremony on it, so it’s legit. [ marveling at it ] Look at it. Isn’t it lovely?

She gives it a little kiss, folding it back up and putting it back in the purse on Isadora’s lap. Isadora and Farkle exchange a look.

Farkle: At this rate, getting rejected might’ve been healthier for your sanity.

Maya flips her hair over her shoulder pointedly, shrugging. Too late now!

A few paces over, RILEY MATTHEWS double checks her backpack to make sure she has all her essential belongings. It’s her first time going overseas, and she’s clearly a bit nervous. But she’s got her ways to combat it, including a well-curated list -- one that LUCAS JAMES FRIAR walks through with her as she goes. He reads down the list, she confirms she’s got it.

Lucas, notably, doesn’t have a backpack or suitcase to fuss over. That’s because he isn’t going, a fact that Riley sympathetically remarks on once they’ve concluded her checklist. She takes his hands in hers.

Riley: I wish you were coming with us. It’s not going to feel right if you’re not there.

Lucas: Actually, I think it would feel wrong if I were there. Like some kind of weird, nonsensical blip in the universe.

Riley: Oh, please…

Lucas: I’m not cultured and I don’t have any money. Traveling out of state seems pretty out of character, let alone out of the country. Think I’d get sent to the embassy as an international prisoner just for existing.

Riley nudges him pointedly, earning a smirk in response. It’s too cute not to mirror with a smile of her own, but it doesn’t quite remove the melancholy from her tone.

Riley: I just… I feel bad. You should be there, you’re class president. And you know… with everything that’s happened in the last few weeks, I don’t wanna like… just leave --

Lucas: Riley. Seriously, it’s fine. I’m fine. And spending some time on my own is not going to be the thing that kills me. That’s how I used to prefer it.

Riley: I know, I know… before Comet Riley.

Lucas: And the world has never been the same. Look, I know it’s gonna sound insane when I say this, given my track record on… well, everything, but you don’t have to worry about me.

Easier said than done… but she knows in her heart he’s right. And even if she wanted to debate it, she runs out of time, as Jack and Eric march out from the hall and start rallying the troops to head out for the airport. Big journey ahead!

Harper: All right, everybody, grab your things -- all your things, double-check and make sure, yes I’m looking at you, Orlando --

Dylan: And I don’t blame you!

Asher: I’m triple-checking.

Harper: Then let’s move on out! It’s a brief bus ride to the airport and then a long eight hours to fly. Don’t want to be late!

Riley gears up to go, Lucas grabbing her backpack off the ground and helping her sling it on her shoulders. She reminds him not to forget about the favor she asked him to do while she’s gone, which he confirms. Then she remembers something else at the last second, quickly turning to face him again.

Riley: Oh, and tell me the moment you hear anything from Davis. I know the connection is gonna be spotty because we’ll only be able to talk on wi-fi, but seriously, if you hear anything, try to reach me. They have to say something any day now.

Oh, so Lucas hasn’t told her about the acceptance letter... or the potential scholarship… he pauses when the moment arises, then nods, assuring her he’ll do just that.

Riley: I’ll try to do the same for Tisch, if I hear from them, but you know, again, spotty connections --

Harper: Let’s go, Riley! Mister Friar will still be here when you get back!

Riley blushes, starting to back up towards the others as Lucas playfully urges her to go. But then she doubles back one more time, pulling him into a kiss goodbye. The moment lingers when they pull apart, Riley gently caressing his cheeks and holding his gaze.

Riley, softly but with intent: I love you.

Just in case he needs the reminder -- to tide him over for the week. Then she’s off, throwing him one last smile over her shoulder and blowing a kiss before she jogs to catch up with the rest of the class towards the back entrance where the bus awaits.

Jack comes to stand next to Lucas, the two of them watching the others head out. Jack smiles knowingly at the exchange he just witnessed, and clears his throat presumably to comment.

Lucas: Don’t say anything.

Jack: … all right.

His tickled smirk says plenty for him anyway.

INT. JFK INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - SECURITY CHECKPOINT - NIGHT

Before the fun can begin, though, they’ve got to get there -- and that might be the most stressful part. Eric waits on the other side of security and customs, counting off each student as they successfully make it through the process. He’s splitting his focus between that and making sure the ones who have already made it through don’t rush off.

Eric: Fourteen… fifteen -- techies, I said stay put until we’re all accounted for! Asher, will you please bring Nate back into formation? Sixteen -- Maya, do not argue with the customs agent!

Maya successfully makes it through, albeit in a huff, followed by SARAH CARLSON, DARBY WINTERS, and finally Harper to close out the group. She and Eric touch base.

Harper: Full count?

Eric: Full count. Thank God.

Harper: Well, at least the hard part’s over.

Eric: Yeah, keep telling yourself that. Just wait until we have to get them back in one piece.

They’re already exhausted. This should be international levels of fun.

Cue title sequence.

INT. JFK INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - TERMINAL - NIGHT

Eric and Harper have disbanded the group to explore the terminal, gathering rations and any necessary items for the journey. The techie boys are assembled just outside the entrance of Hudson News, eyeing some of the stuff on display.

Jeff: Y’all brought outlet adapters, right? You know their voltage is different than ours.

Dave, stunned: The Brits have their own electricity?! I am never gonna survive the culture shock.

Yogi: [ re: “shock” ] Literally.

Nate: Oh, bro, I know. And what if we don’t speak the language?

Dave: I know! I’m fucked!

NATE MARTINEZ cracks up, JEFF MONROE and NICK YOGI assuaging DAVE WILLIAMS’s concerns.

Moving past them, closer to the gate where their flight will be departing from, we shift focus to ZAY BABINEAUX. Next to him YINDRA AMINO is engaged in a seemingly riveting conversation with HALEY FISHER and CLARISSA CRUZ, but Zay isn’t paying attention. He’s zoned out, glued to his phone instead.

He’s logged into his application portal for Turner. His status still says “pending,” even weeks later when many people have already heard back. He keeps refreshing the page, willing it to change, yet of course it does not. He sighs, swiping the window up and away and landing back on the previous app he had open.

His messages app, and a specific contact at that. His text thread with Charlie, which had been steadily growing back to a healthy rapport but has essentially gone silent since his Turner audition. Since Zay kissed him, like an idiot, and then ran away like a coward.

It’s clear Zay wants that to be different. He wants there to be rapport, to break the ice he stupidly created, but he’s at a loss for how. Not to mention, he kind of figured Charlie would say something… maybe that’s stupid, given it’s Charlie, but it feels wrong to be the one to bother him when he’s the one who encroached on their lines in the sand.

Just another thing frozen in time, stuck “pending.” Zay frowns, slouching further in his seat.

Riley comes to join him with food for them to share, plopping down in the seat next to him. He quickly locks his phone, but it’s honestly not even worth the rush -- with his obsession lately, she already has her guess as to what he was looking at.

Riley: I hate to be the one to deliver this news, but you realize we’re not going to have much access to wi-fi on the trip? You’re not going to be able to check your email obsessively while we’re there. Such a tragedy... 

Zay: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Gimme my French fries.

Riley hands them over, eyeing his leg impatiently bouncing a mile a minute. She remarks he’s got plenty of energy stored up now clearly, so good thing he’s finally clear to dance again. He snorts, derisively eating a fry.

Zay: Yeah, just when I needed it -- oh, no, wait. That was weeks ago…

Riley: Still, you’re happy, aren’t you? I know I am. I can’t wait to see you dance again for real.

Zay: You’re unfailingly sweet, thanks. And yeah, of course I’m happy I got the all clear. It really just feels like… I mean, if it could’ve been a couple weeks sooner --

Riley: But there’s nothing you can do about it now. It’s done. And if it took Turner this long to contact you --

Zay: Reject me.

Riley: Then there’s nothing to say it’s going to happen any second we’re abroad on this trip. All this to say [ pretending to pull a cord from his forehead ] disconnect. I think you’ll have more fun if you do.

Zay: Maybe.

Riley: Besides, it’s not like you’re the only one who hasn’t heard back. It’s not totally out of the norm. I mean, Lucas hasn’t heard from Davis, I’m waiting on Tisch...

Yeah… interesting how Riley seems so calm and unbothered by that. Zay points out as much, that she is handling the whole uncertainty thing remarkably well. She shrugs. It’s hard to tell if she genuinely isn’t that invested, or if she’s just keeping her expectations low to avoid disappointment.

Point is, they’re about to go abroad for the first time, so they should focus on that rather than getting stuck on all the stuff here. Zay doesn’t argue with that perspective.

Zay: Believe me, I’m more than ready to get away from things in New York for a while.

Nonchalant as that statement is, Riley is smarter than that. She raises her eyebrows, immediately asking what’s going on aside from Turner that he’s trying to avoid. Zay focuses on his food instead, which only tips her off more. And she had noticed that conversation between him and Charlie seemed to have died down in the last couple weeks…

Riley: Oh my God. Did something happen? [ with dread ] You’re not fighting again, are you?

Zay: No. And we were never fighting.

Riley looks more than ready to disagree with that, but Zay cuts her off. Every time she tries to dig deeper, he dodges, nuh-uhing her until she gives up. If there is something going on, he’s clearly not going to talk about it.

And he’s not the only one. At the gate, Isadora sits on her own, headphones on as she watches something on her phone. Eric sits down next to her and greets her, but Isadora doesn’t notice. With a sigh, Eric taps Isadora on the shoulder. She jumps and looks up at Eric with wide eyes, pausing the video and moving her headphones to rest around her neck.

Eric: Enjoying yourself? [ a beat; Isadora shrugs ] How are you feeling about everything? The last time you flew or traveled a significant amount was for Valerie’s funeral. 

Isadora, dryly: I really appreciate the reminder.

When Eric doesn’t move on, but instead continues to wait for a proper response, Isadora shifts from her sarcastic defense system to allow a bit of vulnerability. 

Isadora: It’s difficult. I only used to fly between LA and New York, either because she wanted me back or had given up on me again. I feel like I did back then -- will this time work? Will I be accepted and loved? I know I’m not going to see her, but my anxiety isn’t really listening to that fact.

Eric nods in understanding and says that he expected as much. He suggests that she continue to challenge the thoughts, and keep herself distracted. 

Isadora: Kind of hard when all your friends are talking about where to go to college and your dad is asking you how you feel about your mom being dead. 

Eric: Fair enough. Should I just leave you alone, then? Or do you want to play an airport game? Guess Who, I Spy, that sort of thing.

Isadora considers this. 

Isadora: We could try to name as many of the periodic elements as we can. 

Eric: Maybe we should find Farkle for that one.

As Eric looks around, Isadora chuckles and tells him that it’s fine. She’s happy watching a documentary about whether we’re all living in a simulation or not. Seems like a great way to distract from anxiety…

Eric leaves Isadora alone, passing JADE BEAMON and NIGEL CHEY as he goes. They sit together at the gate, across from Isadora, sharing a bag of candy and excitedly discussing what they’re going to do on the trip. Nigel is particularly enthused about one location on their itinerary, his nerdom on full display.

Nigel: I mean, it’s Stratford-Upon-Avon. Birthplace of Shakespeare!

Jade, fondly: I know, I know.

Nigel: You don’t go to Shakespeare camp twelve years in a row only to not appreciate the chance to see the holy ground. It’s like… pilgrimage.

Jade: And don’t I feel blessed to witness it. Think seeing you see it is going to be more interesting than the place itself.

Nigel shrugs bashfully. Jade splits a piece of candy in two and hands half to him, which he happily accepts.

Nigel: Gotta say, yeah, it’s extra special considering I get to see such an important place with such an important person.

Jade’s turn to blush. She concurs, though, the two of them agreeing a lot of the excitement for the trip is just in that they get to be on it together. They’ve got it all planned out, how they’re going to spend as much time as possible taking in the sights together. Nothing but experiences to have, culture to absorb… just the two of them…

Well, not quite. Their quiet conversation is interrupted as the techie boys descend upon them, loudly and enthusiastically pouncing on Jade from behind as they crash into the row of seats backed against theirs. She jumps in surprise, then makes a deadpan expression as they all immediately start talking at once.

Jeff: All stocked up for the trip.

Nate: Check it, Pins N’ Needs! Got enough jelly beans in these pockets to last a lifetime, baby! And I’m packing major Double Bubble.

Dave: Jeff helped me pick out a travel adaptation --

Yogi: Aren’t your pockets going to get sticky?

Nate: You let me worry about that. You just wait ‘til I start blowing bubbs at 30,000 feet.

Dave: [ holding out the adapter to show Jade ] So I don’t get zapped by the British electricity.

Jeff: They’re going to throw you out the emergency exit.

Nate: Good thing I’ll have my Double Bubble to keep me airborne!

Jade, sharply: Boys. [ off their silence ] Don’t you remember what we talked about before we left? That little agreement we discussed about this trip?

Nate, Dave, Jeff, and Yogi exchange a look, thinking… then their glances shift to Nigel. He looks overwhelmed, not yet used to the usual techie tot rapid-fire, but he offers an awkward smile.

Ohhh, right. Jade is with Nigel. Simple agreement -- leave her alone.

Nate: Oh, riiiiight. Right, right.

Yogi: Quite right, luv.

Jeff: Don’t mind us. We’ll just be over here. Minding our own business.

Nate: Looking the other way.

Dave: Leaving you alone so you can be with your boyfriend.

Dave! Not so loud! Nate and Yogi tug Dave around so they’re facing the other direction, feigning disinterest and leaving Jade be. She releases a long breath through her nose, then offers Nigel a smile. He was saying?

Flight attendant, voiceover: Attention passengers. Flight 0103 to Heathrow begins boarding in just a few minutes…

INT. AIRPLANE - NIGHT

Passengers clog the aisles and rummage around their seats as boarding resumes, all the way towards the back of the plane where the A class basically has domain over the last few rows. Riley, Dylan, and Asher take up a row of three, avidly chatting as they buckle in. Harper is helping direct them to their proper seats, noting that they’re welcome to swap seats with each other if they wish only once they’re settled and within their share of the plane.

That’s news to Nigel -- and good news at that. He perks up from his seat in front of Yindra and Zay (paired by the window on the left side), then makes eye contact with Jade still hovering in the aisle making her way down to board. Yindra gasps.

Yindra: No way. Nigel Chey, are you ditching us?

Nigel: You’re sitting together. I’m not. I’m the third front wheel.

Zay: But you’re with us in our hearts. You’d really toss us aside so callously to sit with your girlfriend?

Nigel: You are the last person who should be making that accusation, or did you forget freshman year? [ off Yindra’s snort ] But to answer your question --

Jade catches his eye, nodding her head towards a couple of seats just two down in front of Zay and Yindra. Nigel spots an opportunity as Isadora starts to settle in, leaping for it.

Nigel: Yep. See you in London.

Zay and Yindra boo him as he jumps forward in the aisle, getting Isadora’s attention and asking if she’d be willing to swap seats. She hesitates, then sees Chai coming down the aisle behind Jade, and something compels her to agree. Nigel happily passes off his ticket and settles into her spot, waiting for Jade to make it next to him.

Only somehow there’s a mix-up, and things don’t go quite as planned. Just as Jade arrives at their row, Eric pops over. He’s surprised Nigel is seated there -- he was under the impression Isadora was supposed to be in this seat, but he digresses -- and he explains that somehow his ticket got mixed up and he’s ended up in the middle of one of the four-seat rows in the center. But he’s an older gentleman, as they know, and he isn’t sure a cramped flight sitting like that for seven hours will be very healthy… so would Jade be so kind as to be willing to swap with him so he can have the aisle?

Well... what are they gonna do, say no to their counselor? Jade sheepishly agrees, spinning to look at where Eric says is his old seat. Naturally, it’s smack in the middle of the techie boys.

Jade: You’ve got to be kidding me…

She makes her walk of shame over to them, the boys greeting her enthusiastically. Jade! Pins N’ Needles, back at it again! Eric settles down into the spot next to Nigel, giving him a friendly smile. Nigel returns it weakly, then glances over his shoulder -- Yindra and Zay are silently laughing at him, giving him cheeky middle fingers. That’s what he gets!

And, despite her quick moves, somehow Isadora has ended up with Chai as her seat partner. Chai seems enthused about it, but Isadora less so. She kind of tunes out even as Chai tries to chat with her, curling closer towards the window. Chai can obviously tell this isn’t typical girlfriend behavior, and thinks about saying something, but Isadora pulls her headphones back on.

Not much to be done about that, then. Chai tries to brush it off as nothing -- just travel nerves, maybe -- pulling out her book.

In a pair of seats to the right behind Harper, Maya and Farkle are settling in. She’s being oddly snippy with him, putting on a thin air of aloof as she questions whether he’s accepted his admission to USC yet. Ever since she found out about the business card, she’s been prodding him about it every day.

Farkle: I haven’t made any decisions yet. For the thousandth time.

Maya isn’t satisfied with that answer. She curtly says -- not for the first time -- that if she had an opportunity flying into her lap like that, she certainly wouldn’t be hesitating to take it. It’s deranged, is what it is. Self-sabotaging, perhaps. Farkle rolls his eyes at her theatrics, leaning back into his seat and knocking his head back.

Farkle: This is going to be a long flight.

Maya: Farkle, darling, you’re my best friend -- it’s going to be a long life.

You got him there, Maya! And with that, we’re ready for take off --

EXT. AIRPLANE - NIGHT

Night passes and brightens to day as the airbus makes its way over the Atlantic, making a timely and early descent into the United Kingdom. As the pilot’s voice welcomes us to London over the intercom, we get our first sprawling, establishing shots of the commonwealth.

INT. HEATHROW INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - DAY

The A class emerges through customs and gathers their things at the luggage carousel, grateful to be able to stretch their legs and move freely. Dylan does some cartwheels to loosen up -- guess the American circus really has arrived! Yindra and Zay pick on Nigel when they reunite with their bags. Did he enjoy his flight with Eric, his best friend?

Nigel: I will have both of you know that Counselor Eric is a lovely conversationalist. You can stay mad.

Oh, ho ho! Big talk! Eric passes him and thanks him for the compliment, embarrassing Nigel and causing Zay and Yindra to crack up. Then he beckons them all out towards the bus -- it’s time to kick this trip off for real!

EXT. LONDON - VARIOUS LOCATIONS - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “London Calling” as performed by The Clash || Performed by AAA Seniors

The A class file onto a double decker BUS as the guitar and drums start, a friendly if bland tour guide called SIMON greeting them once they’ve all taken seats on the open top deck. He’ll stay with them for the entire trip, but the double decker bus is only for today. 

They set off around the streets of London, the unofficial British anthem the soundtrack for our montage of them enjoying -- and exploring -- the views. They drive past the electric billboards of Piccadilly, Cleopatra’s needle, a large statue of Queen Victoria -- all the while taking pictures and listening to Simon’s narration of the city (which, perhaps thankfully, we can’t hear).

As they drive past Trafalgar Square, we cut to them exploring that same location. They’re sped up to match the tempo of the song and the chaotic nature that is tourist sightseeing tours. The techie boys sit atop the iconic lion statues while Maya, Farkle, Riley, Isadora and Zay walk in a line in unison to the beat, heads bobbing and knees bent like Madness in the One Step Beyond music video and cover art.

Back in the bus, we see that while Jade and Nigel managed to sit together this time, they’re both peacefully snoozing. Yindra laughs and takes a picture of them.

They pass the Tower of London and the Tower Bridge, then we see them arrive at the British Museum. 

Simon, flatly: I’m very excited to show you all the many things that British colonists stole from people all around the world and that we still refuse to give back to the rightful owners.

We see members of the A class posing in front of various different statues and artifacts throughout the museum -- Maya and Yindra with the Pharaohs of Egypt; Dave and Nate with the Easter Island head; Nigel and Jade with the Rosetta Stone; Farkle, Isadora, Riley, Asher and Dylan mimicking the poses of the Elgin Marbles as best they can considered each figure is missing a significant amount of limbs; Sarah, Darby and Chai in front of the painting Dancers Practising at the Barre by Edgar Degas.

We return to Trafalgar Square to see Nate being chased by two BOBBIES, one of whom is missing his hat. Nate shouts gleefully as he runs past his classmates, police hat proudly on top of his head. He provides the “ow ow ow owww!”

Eric struggles to keep up with the bobbies and pauses to catch his breath. Riley hands him her water bottle. 

The bus drives past Buckingham Palace while Maya teaches everybody how to do the royal wave. Then the Science Museum, which Simon seems more much interested in. Farkle and Isadora are hot on his heels. We see the enormous dinosaur skeletons, the great whale, the wacky mirrors that distort your image, the escalator that takes you up into the centre of a volcano.

By the time the class are climbing back onto the bus after the science museum, they’re full of energy, excitedly chatting while Harper and Eric drudge behind them. Simon, on the other hand, shows no signs of either energy or lack thereof -- or any emotions at all, really.

The class groove on top of the bus, dancing around and laughing together while Nate provides more wolf calls. They shout-sing the lyrics together, having the time of their lives. 

With the very last clash of the drums, Nate tosses the police hat back to the bobbies and sprints away with the other techie boys, cracking up. 

We’re in for one exciting trip, folks!

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Back in the states, a perfectly normal school day at Adams is progressing as usual. Only the news that Lucas shares with Jack as they sit in their usual spots across from one another is far from it -- he informs him about his tentative admission to Davis, and that he’s up for a potential scholarship (something he sorely needs). Jack is stunned, then elated, nearly getting to his feet.

Jack: Lucas, that’s fantastic! Congratulations.

Lucas: Um, yeah. Thanks. I mean, doesn’t really matter if I don’t get the money, since I still haven’t made enough on my own and it’s going to take like, everything I’ve got either way, but --

Jack: But still. This is a major accomplishment. I know how hard you worked. You should be proud of yourself.

Lucas is obviously uncomfortable with the effusive praise, as nice as it is. So he brushes it off, shifting instead to the reason why he told Jack in the first place. He was hoping that he could give him a ride to his interview. It’s a ways upstate for some reason, and he’ll never be able to borrow the family car for that long.

Jack is, of course, more than willing to do so… until Lucas mentions the date.

Jack: Tomorrow? [ reluctant ] I’m sorry, I can’t. I already have a prior engagement.

Lucas: Oh… oh.

Well, shit. That’s what you get for hiding your small victories until the last minute. Jack frowns, obviously wishing he had a different answer.

Jack: I’m sorry. If I could shift around these plans, I would, believe me. But it’s not exactly within my control.

Lucas: No, it’s um -- it was my mistake waiting so long to -- no, yeah, it’s cool. Thanks anyway.

Jack: You’ll figure out something else, I’m sure. You’re nothing if not resourceful.

Lucas: Yeah… yeah, definitely.

But Lucas doesn’t seem very convinced. Jack can tell he’s deflated, but there’s not much he can say to improve the situation. Lucas escapes before he can even try, claiming he better get back to class -- he and Shawn have lots of work to do, sitting around doing nothing as the only two left.

EXT. LONDON EYE - DAY

The A class arrive at the final destination of their city tour: the London Eye. It looms above them, slowly going round against the London skyline. It’s a magnificent thing to behold, but the techie boys seem disappointed. 

Nate: Is this it? I thought it was meant to be the best ferris wheel in the world. 

Dylan: It’s barely even moving. Is it broken? 

Dave: Where’s the other eye? Is London a cyclops?

The tour guide listens to these complaints in horror. Eric can only mutter an apology, but Simon takes it in his stride and uses the opportunity to explain the history of the London Eye. Farkle listens keenly while Nate and Dylan ask as many ridiculous questions as they can. Leaving the class in safe hands, Eric and Harper go over to the ticket stand to collect their pre-booked tickets. 

Simon: Does anybody know how many capsules there are on the Eye? 

Chai: Thirty-three, right? 

Simon: Close, but not quite.

Isadora’s hand shoots up. Simon nods at her, allowing her to answer. 

Isadora: There are thirty-two capsules. When numbering them, they skipped thirteen for good luck, so they’re numbered one to twelve, then fourteen to thirty-three. There are thirty-two boroughs in London, so each capsule represents one of them. It’s a common misconception that there are thirty-three boroughs, but the City of London isn’t actually classed as a borough.

Simon: You’re exactly right, Miss De La Cruz! But I will kindly ask you not to take over my job in future. London is a very expensive place to live and I need rent money.

Isadora blushes but has a proud smile on her face. Next to her, Chai looks a little irritated at being shown up, given that she was the London transfer for a whole year. Rather than dwell on it, she returns her attention to Simon, who goes through the thirty-two boroughs that the capsules represent.

On their way back from the ticket stand, Eric and Harper pass a man with a basket full of roses.

Rose seller: What a lovely couple! Miss, wouldn’t you like your boyfriend to get you one of my roses?

He holds out a rose, smiling innocently. Harper and Eric meet eyes and struggle not to laugh.

Harper: We’re both gay.

The man falters, realising his mistake, and steps back to allow them on their way. He spots an actual couple walking towards the queue hand in hand, so skips over towards them. A smattering of the A class watches him go, having tuned out of the history lecture.

Yindra: What a guy. Wouldn’t want to have that job.

Zay: I wouldn’t spit on it. That might be you in Los Angeles in a few months.

Yindra elbows him pointedly. Asher shakes his head, watching the rose seller try to convince another group.

Asher: Could never be me. Walking up to strangers like that is a nightmare.

Dylan: Gotta respect the hustle. I love talking to random people. [ brightly ] Maybe I should do that.

Asher: Please don’t.

Dylan: I could sell my cookies. You’d buy food from a stranger on the street, right?

Zay: That’s what the hot dog vendors in Manhattan do every day and they’re considered a staple. Follow your heart, Orlando.

Jade: I don’t know about street food, but I would totally go for one of the flowers. Those roses are beautiful, look at them.

Nigel takes note of her reaction, but the moment passes pretty quickly. When Eric and Harper rejoin the group, focus drifts back to them. Simon finishes his list of boroughs and Eric takes over, announcing that they have to split up into two groups.

Eric: There would only be enough room for four more people if we were all in a capsule together, and since we didn’t specifically book to have one to ourselves, they’ve asked if we can split up so that we don’t prevent other, smaller groups from being together. 

Maya: That can’t be right. I remember specifically requesting we had a capsule to ourselves in my proposal for the trip schedule.

Eric: If you want to fork over the extra cash, then sure thing.

Maya admits defeat. Eric announces that he’ll take ten of them, and Harper will have nine. But aside from that, they’re all mature enough to sort out the groups themselves.

That’s giving them a lot of credit. Haley and Clarissa cling onto each other for dear life as everyone begins moving around. They stand in front of Harper and stay there, determined not to get split up. Jade and Chai both have the same idea, each trying to get a hold of Nigel and Isadora, respectively. Chai successfully ends up standing in front of Eric along with Isadora, Darby and Sarah, but Jade and Nigel are less fortunate. Yindra loops her arm through Nigel’s and moves him over to Eric’s side where Zay is waiting, while Dave rests his chin on top of Jade’s head, anchoring her to her place by Harper.

Riley, Dylan and Asher are chatting merrily in Eric’s group, while Maya and Farkle are still undecided. Farkle is happy wherever, but Maya is having a hard time picking between being stuck with Dylan and Asher -- but having Isadora, Riley and the plastics -- or being with the rest of the techie boys. She decides that she can just stay on the other side of the capsule as Dasher, and walks towards Isadora and the plastics.

While Maya moves towards them, Isadora realises that she will take them up to eleven, meaning somebody will have to move. Neither Eric nor Harper have realised that Eric’s group is already full. She looks between Chai, who has her back to Isadora while she chats with Darby and Sarah, and Farkle, who frowns as he realises the same thing about the numbers.

He’s about to speak up and call Maya back over to Harper’s side, but Isadora uses the opportunity to get away from a potentially uncomfortable situation and darts over towards him. She grabs Farkle’s wrist and pulls him properly into Harper’s group before he knows what’s happening.

When Maya joins Darby and Sarah, she realises that Isadora is no longer there and turns around. Chai notices the same, both of them frowning in confusion at Isadora. She avoids eye contact with both of them, turning and letting Harper know that the groups are done. 

Harper: Oh, thank you Isadora. Eric, I think we’re ready. 

There’s no chance for anybody to voice their displeasure at the arrangement, with Eric already setting off towards the queue. Farkle looks down at Isadora, confused and a little concerned. 

Farkle: What happened?

Isadora: Hm? Oh, I... noticed that Jade was the only techie girl on this side so I wanted to join her. Maya and I must have ended up swapping somehow.

Farkle doesn’t look convinced, but Jade mumbles a thank you while watching after Nigel.

As they join the queue, Simon waves the group goodbye. Once all of their backs are turned, his customer service smile drops. 

Simon, sighing: Americans…

Americans, indeed.

EXT. LONDON EYE - QUEUE - DAY

Now split up, the A class settles into distracting themselves while waiting in line. Yindra and Riley pass the time by playing I Spy, assuming incorrectly that Zay is paying attention and playing along. But he’s not, staring into space and lost in thought as the girls survey the scenery. It’s like they’re not even in another country -- Zay could just as easily be sitting in Cory’s history class, bored out of his mind, for all the energy he’s giving right now.

Yindra is quick to call him out on it, raising an unimpressed eyebrow when her gaze settles on him during her turn.

Yindra: I spy with my little eye something short, yellow, and boring.

She snaps in front of his face, snapping him out of it. He swats her hand away, Riley laughing along as they point out he is completely on another planet.

Zay: Also, don’t insult me -- this shirt is gold, not yellow. Get it right.

Riley: I thought we agreed at the airport that we were going to live in the moment. Seize the day. Enjoy the trip and not get lost in our own heads.

Yindra: Please, don’t even bother. He’s been like this for weeks. At this point, I’m begging for Turner to get back to him so I can be put out of my misery.

Zay: Look, it’s easy for you to say, all right? You can afford to be chill about it, you don’t have a dream school.

Yindra: That’s right. You know what I’ve got? The dream. And at least in chasing that into the uncertain future, I’m not totally dialing out of right now. Like, we’re in London, Zayby. Drink some tea. Take the tube. Kiss a dude with an accent. Carpe diem.

Yeah, okay, Zay will not be doing that. And he doesn’t need the reminders or reprimands. He gets it, they’re in London, they’re in London, they’re in London… but what does locale matter, really, when your heart, mind, and soul feel thousands of miles away? Always tantalisingly out of your reach?

Suffice to say, it’s not going to be so easy to pry Zay out of his own head -- so for now, well, we’ll just have to go into it with him.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “The Kiss of Venus” as performed by Dominic Fike (feat. Paul McCartney) || Performed by Zay Babineaux

As the music-box-like opening twinkles in, Yindra waves Zay off and gives up on him, letting him drift back into space. And he does, directing his gaze upward towards the giant ferris wheel and the skyline of London behind it.

Yep, they sure are in the UK… as he sings the first opening lines, somewhat detached, we slowly ease in closer to his face…

EXT. LONDON EYE - MIRROR WORLD - DAY

Until we’re close enough that it’s darkness and a blur, then we’re pulling back out, still with Zay as he continues to sing -- only everything’s flipped around. We’re occupying his mindscape, free from the conventions of reality, and with a lot of new ground to discover. He starts walking backwards on the beat, his trendy kicks stomping against the pavement, quickly reminding us that he finally, blissfully has full control of his limbs again.

And with that beautiful fact being the truth, it doesn’t take long for him to break into dance. He launches into movement as he breaks into the first chorus, the scenery of London taking more vivid shape around him.

From there, the performance acts as an artistic, groovy snapshot of this new city we’re suddenly inhabiting. Zay explores iconic landmarks and imagery of London as he goes -- dancing along the edge of the fountain in Trafalgar Square; grooving unapologetically in front of the stone-faced Queen’s Guardsmen stationed in the city; riding center in a crammed tube carriage and staring dead at the camera as he sings.

About a minute in, we’re close on his face again, and he seems to be laying down facing up at us… and as we ease out, we realize he’s not just laying in any old place. He’s on the clock face of Big Ben -- yes, the Big Ben -- his limbs mocking the movement a second hand. As the bridge continues, the screen slowly starts to tilt upright, Zay adjusting with it until he’s balancing sideways on the structure.

And this launches us into the electric second half of the number, where he really leans into the energy, fantasy, and freedom of the performance. Each of his sceneries becomes a little less restrictive and more bent to his creative will -- the tube carriage is empty now, allowing him to swing on the hand rails and climb along the seats; he’s splashing and spinning in the water in the Square; he’s now dancing amidst the whole brigade of the Queen’s Guard as they run through the changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace.

In case the message wasn’t loud and clear already -- we’re in London! We get it! More importantly, it’s so good to see Zay Babineaux moving again. Even as the song peters out and we return back to mundane, rules-of-physics-following reality, there’s a lingering energy from the mere sight of seeing him dance that sprinkles a little more magic into the scenery than before.

INT. LONDON EYE - CAPSULE 1 - DAY

Farkle is getting a good look at the view of the city from so high up, Isadora coming over to join him. She asks if it looks any different from the last time he was here, and he admits he honestly can’t remember. It was a long time ago that his family visited. He asks her a question in return, wondering aloud why she isn’t on the same capsule as Chai.

Farkle: You’d think you would’ve fought a little harder to stay together. You know, given that she’s your girlfriend.

Isadora: [ with a scoff ] It’s not my fault the class got split up. What would you have me do? Bully the tour guide into letting me jump groups?

Farkle: You have bullied less deserving people for less pressing things.

Isadora: No clue what you’re talking about. I’m a fucking delight.

Farkle snorts, earning a playful sneer from her. As charming as her deadpan delivery is, Farkle isn’t completely won over by it. Because what it really signals is that she’s avoiding answering the question, which isn’t like her at all. Farkle tries to dig deeper, asking if everything is okay between her and Chai.

Isadora: Yes. Yeah. Duh. [ defensive ] Why wouldn’t it be?

Farkle: Maybe the fact that you’re standing in this carriage arguing with me rather than enjoying time with her.

Isadora: As if bickering with you isn’t the joy of my existence.

Farkle: I’m not trying to like, judge, or whatever. I’m just asking if --

Isadora: What do you want me to say, Farkle? I said it was fine. I mean, what, do you want there to be a problem? Do you want me to tell you everything’s gone weird and I don’t know how to fix it?

Dangerous questions, Isadora! Don’t ask something like that! She’s asking it in a rhetorical way, totally unaware of the fact that Farkle doesn’t know how to honestly answer that question -- to her, or for himself.

Lucky him, he’s spared from addressing it when their conversation is interrupted. An ELDERLY WOMAN -- the kind who can’t help but share their opinion in an overly friendly way -- breaks away from her ELDERLY HUSBAND to tell them their back-and-forth is really quite loud.

Farkle: Oh, sorry about that. We’ll quiet down.

Woman: Oh, no no! Don’t mind me, loves. I find it a bit amusing to be frank -- reminds me of me and my husband here. We can bicker up a storm.

Husband: [ making her point ] No we don’t.

Woman: Married fifty-seven years, if you can believe it. [ cheerfully ] You two make an adorable couple.

Um? The two of them exchange a look, Isadora bewildered and amused whereas Farkle seems slightly panicked.

Isadora: We’re not --

Farkle: It’s not like that, we’re just --

Woman: [ ignoring their protests ] Do you want a picture? The backdrop of the city really can’t be beaten from this angle. It’s so gorgeous, isn’t it?

God, old people… really can’t keep up with them. Farkle stammers, searching for a polite way to reject the well-meant but misguided offer. But Isadora surprises him even more.

Isadora: Sure.

Farkle stares at her as the woman chirps happily, needling her husband to come take the photo because he has less shaky hands. Isadora passes over her phone, only noticing Farkle’s expression when she steps closer for the photo. She shrugs.

Isadora: What? A picture’s a picture. Might as well preserve the memory, right?

Well… yes… but… hard to argue with that. Farkle relents, still a bit stiff, but he’s not going to pass up the opportunity for a keepsake when Isadora is rare to photograph as it is. He manages to pull together a smile as they huddle together and he drapes an arm around her shoulders. His gaze lingers on Isadora as she steps forward to retrieve her phone, thanking the nosy tourist.

INT. LONDON EYE - CAPSULE 2 - DAY

Speaking of nosy women, Riley is taking some photos of her own. She’s capturing as much of the view as she can in her phone, but it obviously can’t replace the real thing. She seems dissatisfied by that fact, only pulled out of scrutinizing her work when Asher stumbles over to join her. He blindly finds the rail and holds onto it for dear life, eyes screwed shut.

Riley: [ with a chuckle ] What are you doing?

Asher: I’m such an idiot. I’m an idiot, Riley -- you are Riley, right?

Riley: Yes, rest assured. I’m actually surprised you’re on this. Aren’t you scared of heights?

Asher: Yes. Yes, I am. But I thought, why not, what better a time to conquer my fears. Gonna be doing a lot of it in the next few months, might as well start now. When in London, right? Wrong. So, so wrong.

Riley aws in sympathy, patting his back and then looping her arm through his to help brace him further. She focuses on distracting him, explaining that she’s trying to take as many photos as possible to show Lucas when they get back. She knows he said he didn’t care, but…

Asher: No, no, I think that’s nice. He’ll appreciate it. You know Lucas claims he doesn’t care about everything when he actually does like seventy percent of the time.

Riley: Yeah. I mean, he honestly probably won’t care much about the London stuff.

Asher: True. He barely tolerates Manhattan.

Riley: But later in the week when we go to like, the parks and the nature reserves and stuff… you know he’d love that. He’d act like he wasn’t into it, but he so would be. So I’ll just try to bring as much back to him as I can.

Asher: For sure. He’s lucky he has you.

Maybe it’s the crippling anxiety talking and blocking his usual filter, but Asher usually isn’t one for such casually stated declarations, so Riley takes the sentiment to heart. It’s nice to hear Lucas’s best friend say something so validating. She smiles to herself.

Riley: Anyway, I’m planning to show the pictures to Charlie, too. He loves travel and history and that sort of stuff, so I’m sure he’ll want to see all of it. So either way, won’t go to waste.

Asher: Oh, yeah. Sucks that he didn’t get to come after three years of sticking out of the worst of what Adams has to offer.

Yeah… a lot of things have felt that way with Charlie this year. But he’s got plenty of his own going on this week while they’re traipsing across the pond.

As the gentle, unassuming guitar floats in…

INT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BEDROOM - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “New Start” as performed by Weary Friend || Performed by Charlie Gardner

CHARLIE GARDNER’s soft vocals drift in as we settle in his bedroom. A couple of boxes have cropped up in corners of the room, one of them labeled “donations.” Inside are discarded pieces of the Haverford uniform, the first willing sacrifice to the specter of college packing.

And I’m packing up and I’m moving out And I’m walking across the stage into a world that I’ve never seen

On the back of Charlie’s desk chair, a pale blue graduation gown is folded -- on the desk, his cap and high school diploma.

So it’s done. A graduation come and gone, just like that. When everyone else was halfway across the globe -- another important walk made alone.

EXT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BALCONY - DAY

On his balcony, CHARLIE GARDNER is seated with his guitar, delicately strumming through the notes. He’s dressed plainly in a tee shirt and jeans, not dressing to impress or concealed behind a uniform, and his hair has grown back out long enough that pieces of it are falling in his face as he focuses on the strings. Despite the mixed emotions of the song, he appears at ease -- honestly the most relaxed he’s looked in months. No more selling himself for applications, no more blackmailing peers.

And they ask me where I’m going And they ask me what I see ahead But if I’m being completely honest…

The threats of the past are done now. All that’s left is the daunting uncertainty of the future. Charlie pauses for a moment, taking a breath… then he exhales into the final line of the verse.

I can’t see a thing

INT. HAVERFORD PREP - AUDITORIUM - FLASHBACK - DAY

As the performance continues, a flashback allows us to actually see Charlie graduate. He rises the steps to the stage and crosses with a bashful smile to accept the diploma from AARON JACKSON. In the audience, ELEANOR GARDNER watches with tears in her eyes, AMBROSE GARDNER applauding proudly next to her.

Charlie glances towards them as he begins his exit from the stage, smiling wider when he locks eyes with ROSIE GARDNER. She’s applauding too, trying to look unimpressed, but she can’t hold back her smile. AGATHA GARDNER and DAISY GARDNER are also present, cheering along.

As he disappears into the darkness of the wings --

INT. DANCE STUDIO - FLASHBACK - DAY

At about two minutes in, Charlie emerges into an empty dance studio at a local fitness center, flicking on the lights. Plain-clothed, free for the summer, left to his own devices.

No one else around to follow. No group choreography to adhere to, no brotherhood to obey, no expectations. But he wants to dance. He wants to reconnect, find that piece of his identity again.

So he does. Slowly, imperfectly, but it’s a new start. As the music swells into the orchestral middle, Charlie rediscovers dance, pursuing and practicing the art solely for himself.

INT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BEDROOM - FLASHBACK - NIGHT

At the same time, intercut with the lyrical, improvised choreography in the studio, Charlie starts the strange process of going through his stuff in preparation for college packing that we see in progress in the present. He discards his Haverford stuff, tossing it haphazardly into the donations box.

It gets harder, though, when the decisions aren’t so surface-level. Like old photographs, books, notebooks from Adams with notes in the margins -- nervous notes to self, scribbled conversations with Clarissa and Haley, teasing doodles and messages in Zay’s chicken scratch from studying together.

It’s easy to discard the things you’re ready to let go of. The rest, not so much.

INT. DANCE STUDIO - FLASHBACK - DAY

As the orchestration winds down, Charlie finishes a fouette turn and lands without stumbling -- a promising sign if anything. He lowers himself into a sitting position, then exhales a breath and falls onto his back, laying in the center of the dance floor and staring up at the ceiling.

I used to think that when I was grown up I’d have my life figured out I’d know exactly who I was, I’d be set in my ways not needing to change

INT. OLD DANCE STUDIO - FLASHBACK - DAY

In a different studio, dated and decorated like the late 2000s, a YOUNG CHARLIE GARDNER lays at the center of the dance floor the exact same way, staring up at the ceiling. Smaller, geekier, yet doing the same cool down, centering routing. Finding solace in the quiet of the studio even so many years ago.

But now that I’m here, I feel more like a child Still learning my lessons and needing direction Still needing direction…

EXT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BALCONY - DAY

As the piece swells into the final crescendo, Charlie leans into it, emotional and vulnerable. Many pieces come together in tandem with his simple vocals on the balcony, interweaving around one another. Photographs of him as a kid on the mantle in the living room, the same ones he scrutinized at the start of Season 2 during “I Hope I Get It,” now share space with his senior portrait. He continues to dance solo in the community center studio, while his younger, less polished self does the same.

He brings it all to a close back on the balcony, letting the final chords reverberate for a moment before he releases the strings. For a moment, he stays still and enjoys the quiet, the slow bleed of the familiar soundscape of the Upper East Side returning to focus around him. The distant echo of traffic. The coo of neighborhood birds. The chatter of neighbors down the street.

His home, for at least a little while longer -- before he ends up who knows where. Then he releases a sigh, taking his guitar and stepping back inside his bedroom.

EXT. LONDON EYE - DAY

The A class recongregates on the sidewalks, Riley’s group still trickling in from being released from the wheel. While Eric and Harper avidly attempt to head count and take attendance, Maya greets Farkle as he returns. She asks what he thought about the view.

Maya: Like, it was nice and all that, but eh. I’ve seen better.

Farkle: It was cool. Someone even took a picture of me and Isadora.

Maya: Oh? Paparazzi already.

Farkle: Yeah. She said we made “a cute couple.”

Maya cracks up, shaking her head. She takes his hand, patting it with her own.

Maya: Oh, Farkle, sweetie. No one would say that to you.

Farkle holds out his free arm in indignation. Well, it happened! Still, Maya remains unconvinced -- and thoroughly tickled.

INT. LONDON HOTEL - RILEY’S ROOM - NIGHT

The rooming arrangements for the trip are… unique to say the least, considering Eric had to balance gender, sexuality, and a handful of romantic entanglements that he’s trying not to enable. That explains how Riley, Isadora, and Dylan ended up as roommates, though they seem more than content with the grouping.

Well, at first Isadora does, until her chatty roommates shift onto topics she’d rather not discuss. It starts with college, a reality she’s trying to ignore, as Riley points out this whole exercise in travel is probably good for a lot of them in preparing for whatever journeys they’ll make for the future. She also notes it’s good practice being away from Lucas with this kind of time difference -- if he goes to Davis, like she’s hoping he will, they’ll be dealing with this distance all the time.

Dylan: Totally. But you guys are going to be fine. You’ve never been like super clingy or anything. And you’re already used to him being a terrible communicator even when he’s right in front of you. Won’t have to worry that distance is causing that when you know he’s like that all the time.

Isadora: That is actually so true.

Dylan: I think the much more pressing question is how are you ever going to survive being away from me? When I’m all the way in Rochester, a whole five hours away?

Riley: I know, you’re so right… well, I guess I just have to get my fix now!

Riley surges forward and tackles Dylan with a hug, the two of them collapsing into a giggly heap on their bed. Isadora eyes them, rolling her eyes affectionately. Once they’ve rearranged themselves into some semblance of a cuddle pile, Dylan conspiratorially continues the conversation.

Dylan, jokingly: Do you think Lucas would be jealous that I’m sharing a bed with you?

Riley: Considering you’re the gayest teen in Manhattan and are happily dating his best friend? No, I think he’ll live. [ coyly ] Besides, believe it or not, Lucas and I have shared a sleeping space… more than once already.

The statement itself is factual, nothing objectionable about it, but the message is all in Riley’s mischievous delivery. They may not have had sex yet, but the extracurricular implications are clear enough even Isadora catches on. Dylan gasps in faux shock, which Riley rolls her eyes at.

Dylan: OMG… Miss Riley...

Riley: Which you already knew.

Dylan: [ another gasp, then a beam ] I did. I did already know that actually.

As cute as Dylan and Riley’s friendship is, their comfort and casual intimacy in talking about sex is pretty much the last thing Isadora wants to hear. The context of Lucas and Riley is bad enough when she has to confront it, but on top of her own recent choices, she can’t stomach it.

Isadora: Are you going to be like this all trip? If I knew I was getting Elle Woods’ sorority sisters for roommates, I would’ve asked Eric to switch my room assignment.

Yikes. Dylan and Riley quiet down immediately, exchanging an uncertain look. To engage or not to engage… just as Riley opens her mouth to ask if everything is okay, there’s a knock at their door. Dylan climbs up to get it, pulling open the door where Chai is waiting on the other side.

Perfect timing… Isadora immediately gets to her feet, Dylan offering Chai a smile before stepping back to make room. He goes and rejoins Riley on their bed as Isadora approaches the doorway, the two eyeing the couple with interest and sharing another tacit exchange.

INT. LONDON HOTEL - CORRIDOR - NIGHT

Isadora steps out into the corridor, shutting the door gently behind her. Chai gives her a smile, but it’s tight and doesn’t reach her eyes. 

Chai: Thought I’d come by and say goodnight before lights out. 

Isadora: Oh, okay. Goodnight.

Isadora begins to turn, but Chai reaches out and places a hand on her arm to stop her. Isadora flinches at the unexpected contact, pulling her arm away and rubbing the spot where Chai’s hand was.

Upset, Chai crosses her arms. She tries to start a conversation, but her heart isn’t in it, and she can tell that Isadora would rather be talking to anybody else. 

Chai: Are you okay? You haven’t been like yourself. 

Isadora: Probably just jetlag. I’m super tired. 

Chai: Yeah, maybe. [ a beat ] But you haven’t really been yourself for a while now. Are you sure --

Isadora, snapping: You haven’t really known me that long, though, have you? You’re not my therapist or Eric, so please don’t pretend like you know what’s going on with me.

Ouch. Chai is taken aback, unable to hide the hurt on her face. Isadora realises what she said and exhales, trying to take a step back from her emotions.

Chai: I wasn’t trying to --

Isadora: I know, I’m sorry. Like I said, I’m really tired. I’ll be better once I sleep.

Chai nods, unsure, but figures it’s best to just leave it. She bids Isadora a quiet goodnight and leans forward to place a gentle kiss on her cheek, but Isadora doesn’t notice this and turns to open the door. Familiar feelings of being invisible and ignored cause Chai’s eyes to gloss over as she walks away.

INT. LONDON HOTEL - NIGEL’S ROOM - NIGHT

Nigel is getting his stuff ready for tomorrow, Nate and Jeff debating something from the bathroom nook. Jeff quickly asks Nigel if he needs to use the bathroom before he takes a shower, which he claims he’s all good, and Nate declares he’s going to go adventure around the halls until the last possible minute before lights out.

Jeff: I’m sure Eric and Harper will love that.

Nate: It’s only like six in the evening in my New York brain! What do they expect me to do, go to sleep? We’ve got hours before I hit that wall.

Oh, Nate, is the jetlag gonna come for you… but no stopping him for now. Jeff ducks into the bathroom and Nate disappears into the hall, leaving Nigel alone in the room. He settles onto his bed, absorbing the uncharacteristic quiet for a moment… then he gets an idea.

He leans over and pulls the hotel phone towards him, picking up the receiver and looking for how to find the right number...

INT. LONDON HOTEL - TECHIE ROOM - NIGHT

For as much as she planned to take a break from them this trip, Jade remains stuck with a majority of techie boys as her bunkmates. Dave and Yogi have claimed one bed while she’s planning to share the other with Asher, though at the moment she’s searching for a semblance of peace and quiet by brushing her teeth in the bathroom nook.

Dave pokes his head around the doorway, quietly asking if she’s okay. Jade spits out her toothpaste then raises her eyebrows.

Jade: Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?

Dave: Well, you said you wanted to spend less time with us this trip.

Jade: I didn’t say it like that.

Dave: But here you are… stuck spending time with us. [ sincerely ] Sorry if we’re annoying you.

Jade sighs, tilting her head at him.

Jade: You could never annoy me, Dave Williams.

Dave smiles, somewhat reassured. Jade continues with a shrug, reminding him that it’s not like she hasn’t spent the last four years with ample time getting used to them. And it’s not that anything has changed about that -- she still loves them, they’re her boys, even if the ones like Nate and Dylan sometimes drive her crazy.

Jade: I just… I was hoping for something a little different this time. That’s all.

Dave clearly isn’t sure what that means, but he doesn’t get the chance to ask. The hotel phone rings, making all of them jump.

Yogi: Oh my God, those work? I thought they were just decorative.

Asher stops journaling, tentatively reaching to pick up the receiver when it’s clear no one else is going to. He says hello, listening thoughtfully, until his expression shifts to recognition. Then he cracks a small smile, glancing towards Jade hovering by the bathroom.

Asher: Yeah, sure. I’ll see if she’s available. [ holding out the receiver ] It’s for you.

Dave and Yogi exchange intrigued looks, the latter making a point of ooh-ing. Jade shoots him a look but comes to take the phone from Asher, who gives her some space and takes his journal over to the desk.

Jade, uncertainly: Hello?

INT. LONDON HOTEL - NIGEL’S ROOM - NIGHT

Nigel exhales a sigh of relief, settling back against the headboard. He returns her greeting shyly.

Nigel: I’m glad this actually worked, I wasn’t sure it would. I sort of thought these phones were mainly decorative.

The conversation cuts back and forth between the two of them, both of them speaking more softly than they probably need to under the guise of pretending they have privacy. Nigel explains he just wanted to say goodnight, which Jade smiles at. She apologizes for the fact that today didn’t really go as planned, but Nigel shrugs. Always tomorrow.

Jade: Yeah. Yeah, definitely.

Nigel: So I’ll see you tomorrow. For real this time.

Jade: [ with a laugh ] Okay. Can’t wait.

Neither of them want to say goodbye, but they must. To delay it just a minute more, though, Nigel tells Jade to make sure to check outside her door before she goes to sleep. She frowns, confused, but he refuses to elaborate. He simply insists she do her due diligence, then with one more goodnight, hangs up.

Jade gets up and heads to the door, hesitant and feeling silly… but it’s Nigel, and she trusts him. He wouldn’t tell her to do something without a good reason. Glancing over her shoulders to make sure her roommates are preoccupied, she gently pulls open the door.

INT. LONDON HOTEL - CORRIDOR - NIGHT

At first, Jade doesn’t find anything to see… until her gaze drifts downward. She lowers herself to a crouch, picking up the small gift left just outside her door.

One of the roses from the street vendor, the ones she said were beautiful, with a delicate ribbon tied around the stem. Jade laughs quietly in disbelief, then turns her focus to the small note folded underneath it with her name on it. It’s a brief message, scrawled in Nigel’s handwriting, on a piece of hotel notepad paper:

For aught that I could ever read, Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth.

A Shakespeare quote. Of course. How perfectly, quintessentially Nigel -- and the perfect antidote to their befuddled plans. Jade smiles, twirling the rose in her fingers and then smelling it.

Maya, pre-lap: I mean, it’s insulting, really. The complete disregard for my plans.

INT. LONDON HOTEL - DIVA ROOM - NIGHT

Maya is in the careful process of brushing her famous golden locks before bed, pacing the hotel room as she does. She’s ranting about the situation with the London Eye, remarking that with their little split she got separated from all the cool people and had to be stuck with Chai and like half of the techie gremlins -- including Asher of all people.

Maya: I really should file a complaint -- though I don’t know if it would be more effective to report Eric, or the tour company. I was very clear in my directions.

Zay: Yeah, yeah, it’s a travesty. While you’re at it, can you Karen the hotel and get them to improve their wi-fi? This service is shit.

At least, not good enough for him to compulsively check his application portal. Maya softens a bit, confirming that he still hasn’t heard from Turner. Zay tosses his phone onto the end of the bed, claiming that at this point he’d rather get a loud rejection than continue to be in suspense.

Farkle emerges from the bathroom, walking right into a trap for Maya’s ire. She comments on Zay’s predicament by pointing out that some people have confirmed opportunities right in front of them, and yet don’t appreciate it. Farkle rolls his eyes.

Zay: What, USC? Big whoop. You know Farkle was going to get in anywhere he applied considering his dad has a wealth reputation the size of Bezos.

Farkle: Um, well, I think we could give a little credit to my grades and applications.

Zay: Eh.

But no, that’s not what Maya was talking about. She loftily mentions the existence of the business card, getting the immediate attention of both boys. Zay sits upright.

Zay: Wait, what?

Farkle: Maya!

Maya: … oh, was I not supposed to mention it? [ flatly ] Oops…

Zay eyes Farkle, expecting further information. Reluctantly, Farkle gives him the short version -- that when they were in Los Angeles, he crossed paths with a talent agent who liked what he saw. So now he’s got this business card for if he’s ever back in the area. Zay blinks, shaking his head.

Zay: I’m sorry, let me see if I got this right. When we went to Los Angeles for Valerie De La Cruz’s funeral, you somehow managed to stumble into a situation to show a talent agent what you have to offer, and they liked it? Enough to give you their card?

Farkle: It was actually an audition. They wanted me to take the part, but I wanted to come back and finish senior year, so --

Zay scoffs, even more disbelieving. Maya holds out a hand, emphasizing her unspoken point. Farkle scrambles to explain himself, to validate his reasons for putting everything on hold and still not being sure he’s going to pursue it, but after a few moments Zay waves him down. He shuts down the conversation, claiming he can’t process this information right now.

Zay: Unbelievable. I can’t with this. I’m going to bed, and I’m going to sleep off this reveal and pretend I never learned it. Goodnight.

Farkle: Zay, it’s not like --

Maya: That’s all? I need you to give him one of your tough love bitch smackdowns --

Zay: I’M GOING TO SLEEP. GOODNIGHT.

Zay hits the light switch by his bed and sends the room into half-darkness, flopping onto his side and turning away from them. Maya and Farkle eye each other, the latter scowling at her. She smiles innocently.

Farkle marches over and hits the other light switch, throwing us into darkness --

INT. COACH - MOVING - DAY

But the sunlight is bright as the A class embarks on their second day, en route to the famous Westminster Abbey. It should be an exciting prospect, and it would be -- if the A class wasn’t thoroughly jetlagged and half-asleep on the bus. Dylan is asleep, leaning against a drowsy Asher.

Simon does his best to rouse them, trying to energise the bus with some riveting Westminster trivia. But it falls flat, especially on such a dead crowd. Their bus driver for the trip, a portly and blunt woman named FREYA, tells him to give it up. They’re second-day Americans, they’re gonna be pretty useless for much of the day.

Eric offers some optimism, though, patting Simon on the shoulder and assuring him they’ll put together. They’ll perk up soon… hopefully… Dave yawns loudly, not accenting Eric’s point well.

INT. GARDNER HOME - KITCHEN - DAY

Back in Manhattan, Eleanor has plenty of energy to spare. She’s in full-on planner mode as she pieces together final details for Charlie’s graduation reception, binders and notes spread out on the kitchen table and phone cradled between her shoulder and ear as she confirms some last-minute details.

Rosie and Daisy watch from the kitchen counter, since she’s taken over the dining table, having their breakfast. It’s quite the intimidating spectacle, watching their mom helicopter parent.

Daisy: Intense. Imagine what it’ll be like if he gets married.

Rosie: Think I might drop out to avoid this -- though I doubt she’d put in this much effort for me.

Daisy: I’d do that, but unfortunately, I need secondary education to get into a good college for environmental science. So.

Well, Daisy sure dropped that life plan nonchalantly. Seems she’s got it all figured out -- if only she would share some of that with Charlie! Rosie starts to ask follow up questions, but Daisy is done eating, walking away without comment.

Eleanor glances up from her things while she’s on hold with the caterers, asking Rosie if she’s heard from Charlie at all today. She feels like she hasn’t seen him since yesterday. He’s supposed to be picking up his suit, but if he doesn’t let her know, how is she supposed to know for sure… Rosie shrugs, claiming she doesn’t know. Then she pulls out her phone, crafting a quick text.

INT. THE GAP - DAY

Charlie is picking up his suit jacket as instructed, but there’s a reason he’s not keeping Eleanor updated. He glances at the text from Rosie, warning him that Mom is running just under nuclear and wondering where he is. How much longer is he going to be out?

Before he can type a response, that reason for secrecy returns to his side -- BRIDGETTE GARDNER, running the errand with him. She hands over the suit jacket put on hold for him, complete with a tie selection and suggested slack colors to match. Charlie informs her that they need to work fast because Mom is in blitz mode. Bridgette isn’t surprised, gesturing for him to try on the jacket then.

He does, pulling his arms through the sleeves. Once he’s straightened out the sleeves and adjusted the buttons, they both get a look at him in the standing mirror. It doesn’t look bad at all -- pretty classic and inoffensive in plain navy. The tie pulled to go with it is just a shade off from black, making the whole ensemble very unremarkable.

Bridgette: Looks nice. Just exactly like Mommy laid it out for you the night before.

She playfully pats his cheek, earning a scowl from him. She comments that she’s surprised Eleanor hasn’t made him cut his hair for the occasion, as it’s getting pretty long again.

Charlie: … she might have suggested it once or twice. I changed the subject.

Bridgette scoffs. Of course. But at least Charlie is resisting her influence. Bridgette thinks he could afford to do it more, given that this ensemble for the reception is so insanely boring he might as well be going to a funeral.

Bridgette: Hear me out. What about… glitter? Just a little on the lapels. Oh, or maybe like some leather -- walk into church in some actually well-fitting pants and I promise you about half the congregation will drop dead.

Charlie: Gee, thanks, but I’m not trying to commit mass murder. You may as well have me wear a bedazzled rainbow suit and tattoo a pride flag on my face.

Bridgette: Would be an improvement from what you’ve got now.

Be that as it may, Charlie just wants this reception to go smoothly. If that means wearing what mom thinks looks best, then whatever. Not like it matters.

Bridgette: See, I used to think like that, and then I discovered lace bralette tops. Never going back. [ a beat ] I’m just saying, it’s your party. I think you should be able to express a little bit of yourself while you’re there. At least consider a different tie?

Charlie: … fine. You get three chances to change my mind.

Bridgette accepts the challenge, settling into digging through the displays of neckties to find the strongest contenders. Charlie changes the subject, reflecting on the fact that Bridgette doesn’t even get to be at the reception to see him wear it if he does decide to shake it up. She states that the knowledge of her assistance will be enough, but he doesn’t agree.

Charlie: It’s not fair. I mean, you didn’t get to go to the ceremony, you don’t get to come to this…

Bridgette: Yes, such are the trials and tribulations of being the exile. Missing out on all the thrilling social engagements of blessed high society.

Charlie: I’m serious. Don’t you want to be there?

Bridgette pauses, taking in his sincere indignation. While confronting their mom isn’t exactly high on her agenda, it’s clear from the expression on his face that he wants her there. She shrugs, focusing on the ties.

Bridgette: I already accepted the fact that I was gonna miss out on this stuff. You know? I got over that when I got over everything else. You have to -- if you get stuck on shit like that, it just… makes it harder. And at that point, you can’t handle harder.

Bottom line, he shouldn’t get all worked up on her behalf. He can have his perfect, polished graduation reception without her, and then they’ll do something to celebrate on their own. She finishes pulling a third selection and double checks that she’s satisfied with her picks, then hands them to Charlie and swaps for his boring Eleanor-approved tie.

Bridgette: I’m taking this back to the personal shopper. He can put it back on the rack -- that or burn it, which will be my humble suggestion. You’re wearing one of those.

Charlie: Oh, so it’s bad when mom tells me what to wear, but when you do it, it’s fine.

Bridgette: Yes. Obviously. Just think of it as representation on my behalf, as the poor little exile.

The comment is said in jest, but it’s clear Charlie genuinely isn’t satisfied with how she’s being left out from all his celebrations. She may have made peace with it, but he’s struggling to do the same. He glances down at the neckties, sifting through the colorful and patterned selections.

EXT. WESTMINSTER ABBEY - CLOISTERS - DAY

With its high ceilings, ancient decor and dark lighting, Westminster Abbey very much gives Hogwarts vibes. Simon is in the midst of leading a walking tour around it, holding up a small but bright yellow flag to ensure the group doesn’t get lost. The class is still a little groggy, since Simon’s monotone voice doesn’t inspire much excitement. 

Simon: One of the many monarchs buried here at Westminster is the queen known as “Bloody Mary,” also known as Mary Tudor. She was the last Catholic monarch --

Dave: I wonder if Charlie knows her. 

Simon: And was responsible for 280 people being burned at the stake due to their protestantism. The myth of Bloody Mary is often combined with that of Mary, Queen of Scots, who’s also buried here. She was Queen of Scotland, and claimed that the English throne belonged to her, not her cousin Elizabeth I. Because of this, Elizabeth had her cousin beheaded. 

Nate: Sick. 

Simon: Rumour has it Bloody Mary haunts various sites across the UK, and that if you say her name three times in a row, she’ll make an appearance.

The techie boys all share excited looks while Darby and Haley both look outright disturbed. Simon continues on, unaware of the reactions behind him.

Eric steps through the crowd with his phone to his ear, nodding, then lowers it against his chest as he approaches Riley. He pulls her aside from where she’s listening with Dylan and Asher, speaking to her quietly so as to not interrupt. As the one with the unlimited international plan for this trip, he’s the point person for any important communication.

Eric: Hey, your dad’s on the phone.

Riley: What? Is everything okay?

Eric: Yeah, yeah, it’s fine. He just… your Tisch letter came in the mail. He wants to know if he should open it or not.

Oh. Riley processes that, glancing towards Dylan and Asher. They nod her along, and she nods to Eric, taking the phone from him and stepping a bit away to talk to Cory. She gives him permission to open the letter, waiting on the other end of the line impatiently. She twists a thread on the end of her lavender silk blouse, the seconds ticking by impossibly slow…

Then the results are in. Riley absorbs what her dad tells her, blinking.

Riley: Waitlisted. [ a long beat ] Um, are you sure? What does it --

She’s cut off as Cory presumably reads from the letter, confirming the intel. She’s been waitlisted for Tisch.

For as unbothered as she acted about the whole thing, the news is still a bit overwhelming. She clears her throat, assuring Cory that she’s fine and really needs to catch up with the group. Once they say goodbye, she makes her way back over to Dylan and Asher, managing a smile. But they can tell she’s not herself, cautiously asking what the verdict is.

Riley: Um, waitlisted.

Dylan: No way.

Asher: Oh, well… look, that’s not bad. It could still turn around.

Riley: Yeah. Yeah, absolutely.

Asher: It’s not so much a rejection as it is, like… you know, just waiting to see if --

Riley: The better people say yes first.

Well, when you put it like that… Asher bites his tongue, deciding not to add anything since he’s clearly not helping. Dylan asks if she wants to take a minute, or if she wants them to wait with her, but she waves them off. She’ll be fine.

Riley: Think I just want to be alone for a second. If that’s okay.

Dylan and Asher nod, offering condolences one more time but also assuring her that Tisch doesn’t know what they’re holding out on. It’s their loss. She smiles, appreciative, but it’s faint.

Then she’s alone, left to absorb these new developments. She could hold out on the unlikely, pretending like she’s on the same level as Maya, Nigel, or any other of her incredibly talented friends… or she can let it go, start thinking more practically, and be able to start planning her future.

There’s just that lingering worry, the one creating the lump in her throat, that if she makes the wrong choice, she’s going to regret it forever.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Chasing Pavements” as performed by Adele || Performed by Riley Matthews

Rather than focusing on unrequited romance, Riley’s soulful rendition of the early Adele hit is concerned around her future. For as composed as she’s been able to appear about the whole thing while her friends spiral, the pressure of such major decisions has been weighing on her too -- and with a result like “waitlist,” she’s simultaneously let down yet still trapped in uncertainty. She was hoping for this admission decision to make the tough choices for her, to show her how she feels and what she wants from her future.

Does she want to risk it all and pursue a lofty goal like performing when it’s never been her core motivation, when it’s not her whole entire world like her friends -- but she might be just good enough to make something out of it? Is it worth chasing that elusive maybe, when that maybe might never materialize, waitlisting her forever… and when she could conceivably imagine herself doing something else, even if she doesn’t know what that something else is yet?

And maybe it hurts so much because it speaks to an even greater problem, which is that Riley herself feels stuck on an eternal waitlist. The blow just reiterates what she’s always known: that she’s second best, second choice, the belle of the ball only when all the other debutantes have passed. Maybe a single college acceptance shouldn’t feel that way, but it does, and the ache of it is loud and clear as Riley meanders her way through the corridors of Westminster Abbey and belts it out. It’s a rather poignantly beautiful performance with the historic, grand abbey as her stage.

As the song comes to an end, Riley slips down and settles onto one of the stone benches, tilting her head back against the glass window behind her. The empty feeling expands as we ease away, her solitude emphasized by how vast the corridors seem around her.

INT. CHUBBIES - DAY

Riley isn’t the only one feeling stranded in regards to their dreams. Lucas is in a low mood, spending his time moping behind the counter at Chubbies when he should be on his way to Albany for his interview. It would be easier to be angry, but the only person he can get mad at is himself, so muted frustration and disappointment will do.

He lifts his gaze from the register when Charlie walks through the door, one of the only customers who’s trailed in so far that morning. He makes a point of noting the emptiness himself as he approaches the counter.

Charlie: Quiet in here, huh? Guess when Adams heads out there’s really no one left to patronize this place.

Lucas: Would you judge me if I said I liked it?

Charlie laughs. He claims he wouldn’t judge, given that he’s out also looking for a little quiet and change of pace. He mentions his family and all of the hubbub around his reception, which it’s clearly nice to step away from for a bit.

Lucas: Oh, right. You graduated this week, right?

Charlie: Yeah. Basically the same day everybody else left.

Lucas: Great timing. But uh, congratulations, or whatever.

Not the most eloquent good tidings, but Charlie will take it. The conversation drifts to more general post-graduate discussion, ultimately prompting Lucas to admit when asked about his college prospects that he was accepted into UC Davis. In fact, he was even offered a potential scholarship. Charlie brightens, knowing from Riley how big a deal it is.

Charlie: Seriously? That’s amazing! Congratulations. You must be excited.

Lucas: You’d think I would be. Only it’s not happening. I can’t get the scholarship, so I can’t go.

Charlie: What? Why not?

Lucas isn’t one to just dump his personal baggage out for anyone to see, but there’s something so inexplicably disarming about Charlie that he finds himself saying it anyway. That, and all that frustration he’s been stifling all morning is desperate to slip out.

Lucas: Because for whatever reason the stupid thing is upstate in Albany, rather than like, a centralized logical location like downtown.

Charlie: They probably had more than one session for out-of-state applicants. At least it’s in New York.

Lucas: I guess. It’s my fault, anyway, because I could’ve planned accordingly, but I’m a fucking idiot who waited until the last second to ask for a ride, and my only resource can’t help. And I tried looking up ride shares but it’ll take like a million dollars to get there and back, which defeats the purpose anyway since I’m going to this interview to lick some boots for a scholarship because I don’t have any money.

Lucas concludes his mini-rant by pointedly shutting the cash register drawer, which dings in protest. Charlie processes his complaints, trying to keep up.

Charlie: Where’d you say it was again?

Lucas: Albany. [ irritably ] It’s only like a couple hours away, which honestly makes it worse, because it’s that damningly close and yet I still can’t get to it --

Charlie: Dude, I can drive you.

Oh. Wasn’t expecting that. Lucas pauses his irritable fidgeting, staring at him for a long moment before realizing he’s genuinely offering.

Lucas: … are you serious?

Charlie: Yeah! Like you said, Albany’s not even that far. I like a drive, and I don’t think you should have to miss out on the chance to see this through just because you don’t have the means to get there. Besides, I owe you one for helping me with Brandon.

Lucas: No, no. No, we’re already even. I evened it. Because that was for you doing the transfer thing --

Charlie: [ with humor ] Look, we could do this all day. Or, we can get going so you can make it to your interview on time -- though you’ll probably want to change first.

Perhaps. Lucas glances down at his Chubbies uniform.

INT. SCHOOL BOARD OFFICES - MORRIS’S OFFICE - DAY

Meanwhile, Jack is at his prior engagement, sitting down for coffee with GEORGE MORRIS (60s). He’s a member of the old guard for sure, conventional and establishment, but unlike Jefferson and Yancy he tends to formulate his opinions on each issue independently and votes accordingly. He’s not easily influenced... which makes his impending retirement of particular interest. Whoever rises to occupy his vacant spot may just tip the scales of the school board towards a progressive or conservative lean.

It’s a fact that is clearly on Jack’s mind as they chat, starting on the subject of Jack’s forced probation and reapplication for the leadership role at Adams. Morris voted during the Bradford debacle for Lucas to be able to stay at Adams -- he found the whole situation quite ridiculous and time-wasting, to be frank, more spectacle than anything worthwhile -- but he admits that he also voted for Jack to be put up for reapplication.

Morris: My thinking was that if you were still best suited for the position, then your reapplication should be swift and effortless. You have a strong track record despite Yancy’s observations, which are biased, and it wouldn’t take much to win the job back. Sure, it’s another symbolic, time-wasting gesture, but it would settle the matter.

That being said, he did note that Jack has yet to actually submit said reapplication… which provides a perfect segue into why he knows Jack is really here.

Morris: You don’t have to beat around the bush, Jackson. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors that I’ll be taking my leave at the end of this contract year.

Jack: That might be true, yes.

Morris: Evelyn mentioned you very well may eye my spot. In fact, she seemed to suspect such a thing before you even caught wind of the possibility. She’s keen, Evelyn, insightful. Knows her colleagues much better than most, sees potential that others don’t. That’s why she makes an excellent board member.

Jack admits it’s not out of the realm of possibility in his mind… in the time that he’s been an administrator, he’s learned a lot, but one thing that always frustrates him is when he loses the ability to tackle bigger issues once they elevate beyond his pay grade. There are bigger, more systemic issues affecting the students of Manhattan that he wishes would get more attention, that he could dedicate more concerted effort towards without sacrificing his attention to Adams or risking overstepping his bounds. And certainly becoming a school board member wouldn’t magically fix any of those problems, but it’s a new angle on it. A new starting point, a place where he can create initiatives and try to organize funding towards the things he believes matter above all else.

That’s true, and Morris commends his passion. The board can be a painfully bureaucratic institution, and it could benefit from some fresh spirit. But he has to advise him to seriously consider the process it would entail as well. The school board is an elected position. Jack would have to campaign, build a following, and garner enough support to win the spot. And like most elected positions, he wouldn’t be able to hold onto his current position in the meantime -- if Jack decides to throw his hat in the ring and run for the board, he will have to forfeit his role at Adams to do it. And if he doesn’t make the cut, he’ll be starting over.

Still, that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t consider it. It’s just important to examine all the angles before he makes a move as big as this -- and it’s evident that Jack seriously is.

INT. WESTMINSTER ABBEY - HENRY VII CHAPEL - DAY

At the same time, the A class has begun their free roam at the abbey, allowing them to break off into smaller groups. There’s a lot to explore, so they’ve got a decent chunk of time to do so.

Jade and Nigel have wandered off on their own and arrived at the chapel, Clarissa and Haley the only other two A class folks in the same chamber. Jade approaches the steps in awe, complimenting the architecture and talking about how she remembers watching Kate and William get married live on TV.

Jade: Wasn’t my idea though, for the record. My brother was weirdly obsessed with the royals for a time -- he’s one of those Americans that had a union jack hanging up in his room in middle school.

Nigel: Sure.

Jade: I was much more interested in the fashion. I remember being so amazed by Kate’s dress… I mean, the attention to detail on the lace sleeves, and the train…

Nigel’s turn to be fond of Jade nerding out. The two of them settle at the base of the altar, basically mirroring where the royals stood at said wedding with the beauty of the church towering behind them. He claims she’s already designed and created pieces equally as stunning, if not more impressive. Who knows? Maybe she’ll be designing for the royals one day.

Jade: Wouldn’t my brother love that... but I don’t know. To get that kind of gig I would have to actually have credentials first, which is not going to happen if I don’t get a really good apprenticeship.

Nigel: Still nothing from any of them?

Jade: No. And it’s not like that’s a bad thing, yet, most of them don’t start reaching out until like… mid-summer. But with everyone else figuring stuff out and starting to nail down all their plans, kind of just makes me feel… adrift.

There are certainly others who relate at the moment. Nigel steps closer and takes her hands, waiting for her to look at him.

Nigel: It’s all gonna shape out. Even if you don’t take the traditional path, I really don’t see how you couldn’t find your footing in the industry when your portfolio is literally spectacular. And if worse comes to worse, you’ll make your own way. You can like market your designs on social media and stuff -- Yindra’s good at the branding thing, she could probably help. Dylan, too, though I’m not exactly sure he has a method to his madness.

Jade: Well, he’s doing something right, with what, sixty-thousand followers and counting? Still can’t believe it.

Nigel: My point is, you’ll get there one way or another. And I’ll help, even if I have to go door-to-door at NYU singing your praises. I’m well-versed in the art of the monologue, you’d be impressed how much information I can eloquently cram into thirty seconds of time before they inevitably slam the door in my face.

Jade laughs, thanking him for his unabashed support -- and risking social pariah syndrome to do it. He nods, proud, and the moment grows soft between them. Nothing but fond smiles and the gentle beauty of the cathedral around them… they drift closer together, to share a regally romantic kiss of their own…

Only they’re startled out of the moment by Nate, who marches into the room and loudly comments on how great the acoustics are. The rest of the techie boys follow, officially disrupting the peaceful nature from moments earlier.

Nate: I swear, it’s like an amplifier in here. Echo game for days. [ quietly ] Nate’s the best. [ louder, playing with the echoes ] NATE’S THE BEST!

Yogi and Jeff shush him, but it’s not very effective when they’re laughing. Jade groans under her breath, lightly crossing her eyes in irritation before descending down from the altar. Nigel hesitates, then goes after her, the laughter of their peers echoing around the stone architecture.

EXT. WESTMINSTER ABBEY - DAY

Zay is fielding some annoyance of his own, meandering along with Farkle along the exterior grounds of the abbey. They’re near the perimeter of the burial grounds, Farkle rattling off an insane amount of trivia to fill the silence as Zay does his best to ignore him. How he got stuck with him, he doesn’t know, but Farkle seems more than content to trail behind him and bother him with facts he didn’t need to know.

Farkle: Did you know there are over three-thousand people buried at the abbey?

Zay: Why the hell would I know that?

Farkle: Well, I do.

As if that’s the marker for common knowledge. Zay shakes his head, stuffing his hands in his pockets, but Farkle isn’t thrown by his silence. He continues on unperturbed.

Farkle: That statistic includes many royals and all the Tudors -- save for Henry the VIII, that is, who opted to be buried with his favorite wife, Jane Seymour. Though there’s debate about that, too, considering many Tudor enthusiasts actually believe his true love was Catherine of Aragon, but Jane was the one who gave him a male heir. Which she then died for -- childbirth complications -- so guess maybe he felt a little sorry for her.

Zay: [ under his breath ] Think if he had a favorite wife it would be his only wife…

Farkle: Well, sure, maybe by our present-day standards. But monogamy and marriage for love rather than strategy and lineage is really much more modern a practice than most people realize. Anyway, definitely wouldn’t have been Henry the VIII’s game, since he literally created a new branch of Christianity so he could divorce his wife, which wasn’t allowed under Roman Catholicism. So he’s always been a bit of a I’m-Not-Like-Other-Monarchs guy.

They’re going to have to bury Zay at the abbey if Farkle keeps this up and bores him to death.

Farkle: But you think he’d be buried here, considering he’s the reason the church exists as an Anglican denomination like it does now. It used to be a monastery before he had England separate from the Catholic church. Charlie and I got into an argument about this once, actually, in Cory’s class -- well, I don’t know if I can say argument, since Charlie is really only capable of slightly lukewarm debate -- because he thought the date was before --

The relentless trivia is one thing, but a Charlie name-drop is just too much. Zay is trying to avoid thinking about all of the above. He stops walking, Farkle accidentally ramming into him.

Zay: No offense, Farkle, but I quite literally could not give less of a shit. I’m trying to enjoy the scenery, but I can’t even hear myself be unimpressed over your lecture.

Farkle: Some people find fun facts charming.

Zay: Well, you should go find those weirdos and flock with them then. Seriously, acres of ancient architecture for you to roam and somehow, you end up with me. Wouldn’t you rather be competing with Isadora for knowing how many stones make up the cathedral or some shit?

Farkle: Sorry! Maybe I would be, if things were normal. But at this point anything is better than having to trail around behind her and play third wheel with…

Oh, yeah. Right. Zay forgot about the little detail of Chai. He can empathise with that, wanting to avoid unpleasant circumstances that you have no power to change… he sighs.

Zay: Whatever. It’s fine. You can stay, but we’re going to walk quietly. Enjoy the posh, pretentious ambience. Quietly. Got it?

Farkle: Sure. Totally. I can do that.

Zay nods, beginning to saunter along again. Farkle does his best to follow the rule, biting his tongue as he dawdles behind him… but it doesn’t last long. It’s just not in his nature. It’s sweet of Zay to pretend it could be, but they both know that’s not reality.

Farkle: Bet you can’t guess what famous scientist is buried here.

Zay: Jesus Christ…

No, Zay, he wasn’t a scientist. Good try, though!

Charlie, pre-lap: And what unique eccentricities do you bring to the table that you think would make a meaningful addition to the UC community?

INT. CHARLIE’S CAR - DAY

Charlie and Lucas have made it to the interview venue with a few minutes to spare, so they’re maximizing their time. Charlie has his phone open to a list of typical scholarship interview questions and they’re essentially doing a mock interview. Lucas is now dressed in the nice button-down he wore to Topanga’s, looking much more put together than he did in his uniform.

And though they’re doing their usual thing of not making eye contact as they converse, it’s obvious that the practice is valuable to Lucas. He’s able to stumble through his thoughts, pausing and rethinking and starting over in the middle of a sentence, when he won’t be allowed such a luxury once he gets in there. Charlie listens attentively, tossing glances at him and nodding in approval if he says something particularly effective or well-spoken.

Once they’ve made it through the last question, Charlie compliments his efforts. It’s clear he has a lot to say once he finds the right words, and he can spin it all pretty well.

Charlie: These sort of things are more a formality anyway, honestly. They usually have their mind made up about who they want to give the scholarships to -- this is more about confirming that you’re not like, secretly deranged or a total recluse.

Lucas: Oh, really? Then I should skip it. Would hate to confirm their worst fears.

Charlie side-eyes him, smirking as he shakes his head.

Charlie: You’ll be fine. Deliver even a fraction of the confidence you usually have and you’ll win them over.

Lucas: [ with a snort ] Yeah, right. Sure.

That response surprises Charlie. He looks at him.

Charlie: I mean it.

Lucas: I don’t know what Kool-aid they had you drink at Haverford, but I think it fucked with your head. No one would call me the epitome of confidence.

Charlie: Oh, come on. That’s so not true. You’re like, one of the most unflappable people at Adams. Everyone thinks so.

Lucas: Did we go to the same school?

Charlie: I didn’t say it meant they liked you, but I bet if you asked anyone from our class they’d say you’ve got confidence. Maybe not the same brand as Maya, or Isadora, but you know who you are. You’re unapologetic about it. And you do your own thing, you’re not scared of anything. That gives you like… a quiet power. People notice that, it’s admirable. I wish I could be like that. I’m sure the interview panel will see it, too.

Charlie’s talent for saying the exact right thing in earnest strikes again, and at just the right moment. Lucas absorbs the sentiment. He’s so used to the narratives that are unflattering, all the ways he’s been villainized, it’s weird that in the midst of all that turbulence he may have had silent admirers for every disdainful naysayer.

Lucas quickly changes the subject, pointing out that Charlie was helpful at coaching him. He asks if he had to do a lot of interviews for his schools, which Charlie denies. He wasn’t up for scholarship in most cases considering his family is well-off, and he’s pretty sure his grades and community service did most of the selling for him. It’s all about the surface-level achievement anyway. No one is especially interested in getting to know him beyond the shiny stats, and he can’t blame them.

Lucas: Well, why do you want to go there?

Charlie: What?

Lucas: To Yale or whatever. I just mean like… you know, I’m only doing all this shit for Davis because it has something I really want. A way to get to something I think I want to do. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be worth the stress, and it definitely wouldn’t be worth the money. Why do you want to go there, beyond the… shiny stats?

Good question, Lucas. Very, very good question. One that Charlie can’t answer, even as he opens his mouth to do so. He feels invisible to their institutions, but maybe that’s equally as much about him as it is about them.

He’s spared for now. Lucas’s phone buzzes, warning him that he has ten minutes until his interview slot, so he better get going. Charlie wishes him luck as he climbs out of the car. Then it’s just him, stuck sitting with the huge hole in his future plans Lucas incidentally broke open.

INT. WESTMINSTER ABBEY - NAVE - DAY

Various students wander around the nave of the church -- the main area with pews, memorials and icons hung on columns. Amidst the students are Isadora and Chai, who walk in silence, awkward tension surrounding them following their not-so-pleasant goodnight the day before.

While Isadora focuses on the intricately decorated screen that leads to the quire, Chai takes a selfie with Isaac Newton. Well, his statue, anyway. Chai asks Isadora to be in a picture with her, so Isadora lightly smiles and poses. Chai snaps the pic, then puts away her phone. Things seem to be a little more comfortable between them, so Chai broaches the topic of last night.

Chai: Listen, about what happened yesterday --

From this side of the nave, Isadora has a better view of the pews and finds whatever it was she was searching for. Unaware of the fact that Chai is mid-sentence, Isadora rushes towards a particular row of pews. Chai takes a moment to swallow down her annoyance, then follows.

Isadora slowly makes her way down the pew, analysing the space and holding out her hands as a way to measure how much room would be needed for each person to sit. Curious, Chai watches as Isadora settles on one spot. Tension lifts from Isadora’s face and she lets out a breath of relief before turning and sitting down. Chai shuffles in to sit next to her and looks in the same direction, wondering if this particular spot allows for a better view, but doesn’t notice anything. 

Chai: Why are we sitting here? 

Isadora: This is where my mom sat at Will and Kate’s wedding.

Chai is surprised, and allows herself to take in the fact that she’s sitting next to where Valerie De La Cruz once sat. It’s impressive, honestly, that Isadora remembers exactly where Val sat a whole decade after. Despite how much Isadora once claimed she didn’t care about her mother, this goes to show that she always cared -- a lot. 

Chai: Wow. Were you her plus one or something?

Isadora: [ with a shake of her head ] I watched it on TV with my foster family. Her plus one was some race car driver.

Unsure what to say next, Chai lets quiet settle between them. The opportunity to discuss the night before is gone, but Chai reassures herself that things are better today, like Isadora said. Maybe it was just jetlag…

She tentatively slides her hand towards Isadora’s and brushes it with her fingers, but Isadora once again flinches at the contact and pulls her hand away. She slides down the pew a little to create distance between her and Chai, which only rubs salt into the wound.

Knowing where she isn’t wanted, Chai wordlessly gets up and leaves. Her absence doesn’t even register with Isadora, who continues to sit in silence.

A different collection of Adams students also wander around the nave, Yindra leading the charge. She’s on a mission, approaching the front pews and claiming she wants to get the chance to pray while they’re there. Maya raises her eyebrows, amused.

Maya: Really? I didn’t take you for that kind of religious zealot.

Yindra: Your dismissive attitude notwithstanding, I see it as less zealous and more seizing an opportunity. I’m not going to pass up the chance to send out a prayer for my future in one of the most famous places of Christian worship there is. I’ll take any moment to put good energy into the universe and give a little thanks to God for what I’ve already got -- especially given the odyssey I’m about to embark on.

Well said, Yindra. Touché… Maya takes this challenge, pointedly sauntering off to a kneeler of her own. She settles down with uncertainty, clearly unfamiliar with how any of this religious stuff works. She’s a bit subconscious about it, glancing around her to make sure no one can see her being so visibly out of her element.

Maya: Where’s Charlie Gardner when you need him…

But Charlie isn’t there, the one time Maya has probably ever thought he would be useful to have around, so she’s on her own. She takes a deep breath, blowing air out through her lips almost as if she’s doing vocal warm ups.

Maya: Dear God -- oh, no, wait --

She clasps her hands together, mimicking prayer as she’s seen in the movies. There, better. She nods, satisfied, then tries again.

Maya: So, like… hey there. God. Or, whoever you are. If you’re there. Look, I don’t really do this thing, but Amino made her point, and I can’t let her one-up me. She’s already my strongest competition in the world of up and coming female superstars. No special advantages for her. [ pausing ] Anyway, I know I don’t have the wherewithal to be asking you for anything, since I’m not exactly a “worshipper.” And I wouldn’t expect it anyway -- I’ll be making my own way, cosmic interference or not, so it’s no biggie.

If God is up there listening, he has to be laughing. No one can say Maya Hart isn’t one of his most entertaining creatures… then she grows more serious, clearing her throat.

Maya: I actually thought, if it’s like, allowed, that I’d put in a request for someone else. And don’t worry, he’s one of your precious children who actually practices religion and all that, so you’ll be more willing to help him I’m sure. But um… you should send some guidance to my friend, Farkle. If you do that sort of thing. He’s got… an amazing opportunity in front of him, and all of the talent in the world to see it through -- in a surprisingly frail package. And I know he wants to follow it, that in his heart he wants to break away and see where this takes him, but… something’s holding him back. I don’t know why. I guess he’s scared, maybe. But I think this hesitation is going to keep him stuck, and he’s going to regret it.

Maya pauses, glancing up at the elegant opulence of the church in front of her. Though she’s not a believer and probably never will be, she can appreciate why someone would be. There’s something to it, the feeling of kneeling there in humility and sensing just how small you are. Small, and yet, still worth listening to in even the quietest prayers. She has to love the drama of it, in any case.

Maya: He needs to take the leap and see how far he can go. He can’t pass this up. Please don’t let him pass this up. [ a beat ] Oh, and like, amen. Thanks.

Maya bounces back to her feet, stepping away from the kneeler. As we hang on the stained glass windows shimmering with sunlight…

Interviewer, pre-lap: And why, in your opinion, should we take a chance on you? All things considered.

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY

Lucas is seated opposite three representatives from UC Davis admissions, who we can only see from behind. We’re focused on Lucas instead, giving ample effort to put his best foot forward and make a strong impression. He’s not inauthentic -- no fake smiles or overt charm here -- but like Charlie said, he has a unique, quiet charisma. When he answers their question, speaking carefully and precisely to get every word right, there’s a soft intensity to it that is more compelling than any practiced grin could be.

Lucas: I want to study veterinary medicine, which has its roots in biology. And as far as I understand it, the core tenet to any living organism is growth. Being able to adapt, to evolve, become a better and more resilient version of what came before. And in many cases, organisms need support and the right environment to achieve that growth. The right nutrients, water, sunlight. There’s nothing in the randomness of the universe that says we have to support those things, to sustain life, but it happens anyway. [ a beat ] I know I’m not perfect. I’m not the ideal candidate on paper, and any look at my permanent record would warrant second thoughts. But I’m improving. I’m evolving. You can see it in my application -- it takes a lot of adaptation to go from expulsion at one school to being class president of another. It’s not easy, and it’s a lot of work, but… I’m putting in the effort to be better than I was before. You don’t have to take a chance on me, but… I believe with the proper environment -- Davis -- I can grow into something worth putting your support and money behind.

The interview panel considers this, one member nodding along while a couple others jot down notes. Lucas releases a breath, having endured the worst of it.

Behind his chair where his bookbag rests, his phone screen lights up with a silenced phone call. Eric’s contact name pops on the screen…

EXT. WESTMINSTER ABBEY - DAY

But the call goes unanswered, leaving Riley waiting on the other end even more disappointed. She leaves a quick message when it goes to voicemail.

Riley: Hi, it’s Riley. I’m calling from Eric’s phone because he has the international plan -- I hope everything is going okay. I just, um… I got some news and I wanted to share it with you, so give me a call back when you get the chance. No rush or anything. And try me on my cell first, because we’ll probably be at the hotel and should be able to at least try wi-fi… but um, yeah. Okay. I miss you. Hopefully talk to you soon. Love you, bye.

She reluctantly hangs up, Eric approaching cautiously. She hands the phone back to him, thanking him for letting her use it. He does his best to reassure her that getting waitlisted is not the end of the world by any means. In fact, there is a silver lining to it in that Riley is clearly good enough to keep under consideration rather than outright rejection.

Riley: Just not good enough to accept.

Eric: Hey, a delayed acceptance is still an acceptance. The destination is the destination, regardless of how long it takes to get there. And you’ve got some information now that you didn’t before, which should help you in figuring out what to do next.

Fair enough. Riley tries to accept that positive spin, allowing the hug Eric gives her. Then he braces her shoulders and waits for her to meet his eyes.

Eric: You get to decide what happens next. That’s the most important thing. Don’t forget that.

Hear, hear. Riley nods, offering a light smile. The two of them head back towards the rest of the group, off to their next stop.

EXT. REGENT’S PARK - CUMBERLAND GREEN - DAY

It’s the evening, but the bright sky and chirping birds don’t show it. Regent’s Park is somewhat busy with tourists and family walking around, and people in business suits on their way home from work. The A class arrive, Simon leading the way with his yellow flag. Eric and Harper carry two large ice box coolers, with a few of the students helping out by carrying foldable chairs, picnic blankets and shopping bags with paper plates and cups.

Once they find a spot big enough for them to spread out, Eric tells everyone to get a picnic blanket and sit in groups, then he and Harper will go around with the food. 

Simon: If anybody wants to learn more about Regent’s Park, or the history of England in general, you can sit on my picnic blanket with me. I’ll be sharing lots of fun facts and answering any questions you have for the duration of tea. 

Dylan: Oh no, are we having tea? Shit, Ash, what should I do? You said I shouldn’t have tea anymore after that time at The Lego Movie… I’m gonna fail London.

Zay overhears this, plainly informing Dylan that tea is just another word for dinner. 

Yindra: I’m dying to hear what happened at The Lego Movie, though. Please do share.

The four of them, along with Riley, get a picnic blanket to sit as a group. Meanwhile, Maya holds court with Darby, Sarah, Haley and Clarissa -- Riley and Zayby aren’t enough motivation to eat with Dylan and Asher.

Maya calls Isadora and Farkle over, but neither seem keen to join the group of girls. Farkle sits down in between Asher and Riley instead, Asher awkwardly shuffling closer to Dylan to make room for his long legs. With a pout, Maya beckons Isadora again. Elsewhere, Chai spots Darby and Sarah and heads towards them, passing Isadora on the way. 

Chai: Want to sit with me? I was going to go with Darby and Sarah but if you’d rather sit just the two of us I’m sure we can find a spare blanket.

Isadora looks around, noticing that everybody else has found a place and that Harper and Eric have started to hand out food.

Isadora: I actually was planning on sitting with Simon, but you go ahead. 

Chai: I mean, I’m happy to sit with Simon, too. 

Isadora: Honestly, it’s fine. I know you’re not into all the history stuff.

Way to tell somebody you don’t want to sit with them without actually telling them. Isadora walks over to Simon’s picnic blanket, where Jade and Nigel are already sitting. Nigel and Simon are in the midst of a debate over the meaning behind one of Shakespeare’s works, a conversation that Isadora easily slips into.

Rather than upset, Chai looks angry as she watches Isadora sit down. She has half a mind to follow Isadora and force her to spend time with her, but she realises that that would do more harm than good. Instead, she sets her jaw and marches towards Sarah and Darby. 

Maya, somewhat smug: Trouble in paradise? I knew you two would crash and burn. 

Sarah: Tell me about it.

Not exactly supportive, but Chai doesn’t care. It’s fuel to the fire that’s burning brighter with every new interaction with Isadora.

The mood isn’t too much better over in Riley’s group. Mainly that news about her waitlisting has spread, and they’re all fired up on her behalf. She tries to assure them that it’s no big deal, people get waitlisted all the time, but all of them are in agreement that if anyone deserves not to be, it’s her. Zay is especially adamant, though he might be projecting some of his own admissions frustration and impatience onto her.

It’s Dylan that finds the knack for truly cheering her though, adding a little melodrama to the rallying around Riley that makes it feel more fun and less heavy. He grows increasingly impassioned about all of the ways that Riley has changed environments for the better -- look at AAA for crying out loud! -- and Tisch simply won’t know what they’re missing. Fools, the lot of them. It’s so obvious, really, that Riley is a cut above the rest.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Jolly Holiday” as performed by Mary Poppins Original London Cast Recording || Performed by Dylan Orlando (feat. Riley Matthews, Asher Garcia, Zay Babineaux, and Ensemble) (starting at 00:15)

[ Lyrics specific to characters -- follow along here! ]

Perhaps the biggest number of the episode, so following along with the lyrics can be very helpful for this spectacle. In fact, I don’t even think I can do the performance justice trying to write it out, so I highly encourage a listen to the track and I will try my best! Dylan wastes no time in launching into the number, replacing every “Mary” fittingly with “Riley” as he showers her in compliments -- a trend that will continue throughout.

Dylan: Why, it’s a jolly holiday with Riley. Riley makes your heart so light.

Riley: Oh, really…

Dylan: When the day is grey and ordinary, Riley makes the sun shine bright!

Riley: You do talk nonsense, Dyl!

Dylan: Oh happiness is blooming all around her. The daffodils are smiling at the dove!

Riley: I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about --

Dylan leans even further into the melodrama, falling onto his back and stretching across Asher’s lap as he really milks it. Suffice to say, he matches Bert’s cheeky charm near perfectly.

Dylan: When Riley holds your hand --

Asher: Dyl!

Dylan: You feel so grand. Your heart starts beating like [ pounding his heart to the beat ] a big brass band!

Asher: [ patting his side ] You’ve got enough brass for all of us…

Then Dylan pushes himself back upright and to his feet, concluding the opening verse by approaching Riley and offering her his hands. She takes them and lets him pull her to her feet, kicking off a visual journey in song through the idyllic park.

But first we take a detour to the plastics, complaining about their stop at the park. Boring! It’s just statues, ducks, and grannies! From there, once they’re done complaining about how it has nothing to offer them, we jump straight into the next set of sung lyrics (01:55), where Dylan takes over again.

EXT. REGENT’S PARK - SPORTS GREENS - DAY

He and Asher are guiding Riley along on their walk, playfully flirting with her and bolstering her confidence as they go. They weave their way through football players and pull them into the singing -- the whole performance definitely has some “That’s How You Know” energy from Enchanted. It’s also a good time to mention what Dylan and Asher are wearing this afternoon, which are purposefully but subtly meant to emulate this famous fashion moment.

Then Dylan takes a detour, leaning fully into the Bert silliness by delivering statue pun after statue pun (to the techie boys’ great delight, especially Dave). At one point, he yoinks a straw boater hat off an OLD MAN and continues on his merry way, which the old man complains about in a… bizarrely strong Cockney accent. His adult SON tells him to relax, though, and just enjoy the performance -- how can you disdain a fella with such spirit like that? As they have their brief comedic interaction, there’s definitely the sensation that the men look oddly familiar (for film and West End fans alike).

EXT. REGENT’S PARK - BOATING LAKE - DAY

Zay takes over from there for a verse or two, arm linked with Riley as the two of them traipse along the path around the boating lake. The ensemble out on the boats sings along, only increasing their share of infectious performing energy. These American students have a contagion of joyful singing, and it’s incurable!

A few paces behind them, Asher takes the Mary verse, turning some of the appreciation towards Dylan. Because of course, Dylan was the one who managed to rally Riley out of her low mood -- and get the whole Park singing along. It’s a cute little exchange between the two of them, cementing their Mary and Bert energies, and building us right along towards the big finish…

EXT. REGENT’S PARK - QUEEN MARY’S GARDENS - DAY

Dylan links his arm with Asher’s and then they’re leading the brigade, the A class and all the parkgoers they’ve collected along the way arriving at the beautiful and scenic Queen’s Gardens for the big finish. They proceed amidst the flowers with a flourish, many of them paired up as they dance their way along together -- Zay and Riley, Jade and Nigel, Isadora and Farkle. By the time they make it to the center of the rose gardens, they’re spread out all across the greens, energetically performing the choreography together and spirits most definitely lifted.

Dylan and Dave heft Riley up onto their shoulders at the centre of the crowd, causing her to laugh, as everyone brings it home.

No wonder it’s Riley that we love!

INT. CHARLIE’S CAR - DAY

The sun is just starting to set as Charlie pulls up at Lucas’s requested drop off, the Orlando community center just across the street. Charlie squints at it, confused.

Charlie: Isn’t this Dylan’s place?

Lucas: Yeah. I crash here sometimes. And Randall’s making calzones tonight. Hard to pass up.

Charlie: Oh. Cool.

Lucas: And they’ve got a dog, so.

He lets that be the end of the sentence, like it explains everything. And to Charlie, whose most consistent best friend is Skippy, it basically does. Lucas gathers his stuff and unbuckles his seatbelt.

Lucas: Your reception thing is tomorrow, right? At your church.

Charlie: Yeah. Lots of extended relatives, old people... none of my friends since they’re all out of town. Should be a hoot.

Lucas: Well, good luck with that.

He starts to climb out of the car, then hesitates, managing to do the vulnerable but decent thing.

Lucas: Thanks for the ride.

Charlie smiles, nodding. Lucas opens the door and climbs out, starting to cross the street to the community center. Then he remembers something else, doubling back and stopping in the middle of the street.

Lucas: Hey, Charlie.

Charlie is surprised he’s still being addressed, but more concerned with how Lucas is standing in the road just waiting to get hit by a car. But it’s Lucas, after all -- no fear. Charlie rolls his window down.

Charlie: Yeah?

Lucas: You could do it, too, you know. Your own thing. [ a beat ] I mean it.

Well. That’s an unexpectedly sincere sentiment. And impactful coming from Lucas, who Charlie apparently thinks of as the master of unapologetic authenticity. A return gesture, maybe, for the favor of driving him all that way.

That’s all he’s going to get at the moment, though, because that’s about as much vulnerability as Lucas can stomach in one day before he starts going into organ failure. He doesn’t give Charlie the chance to respond, jogging the rest of the way across the street to the community center and disappearing inside.

But it’s enough. It clearly lands with Charlie, leaving a mark… and making him think. After a moment, he pulls out his phone, dialing a number.

Charlie: Hey. We need to talk.

INT. LONDON HOTEL - TECHIE ROOM - NIGHT

Westminster was a bad idea for the boys, as now they’re obsessed with the Bloody Mary myth. Nate and Jeff have come over to join Dave and Yogi and they’re all crowded around the bathroom mirror, actively working to summon the vengeful spirit.

Nate: No, no, shut up. Shut up. Everyone has to commit to this. She’s not gonna come if we half-ass it.

Jeff: She’s not gonna come period.

Nate: That’s exactly what I fucking mean, Jeff. If you’re not committed to the cause, you can show yourself out.

For the record, Jade wishes she could do the same. She’s trying to focus on a book, but the boys are so loud, and there’s nowhere for her to escape to for a break. It’s a relief when there’s a knock at the door, and she’s even more grateful when it’s Nigel on the other side.

Nigel: Wondering if you might wanna take a walk before curfew?

Jade opens her mouth to answer, just as the boys finish chanting “Bloody Mary” at increasing volume. After the third repetition, Jeff screams, causing Nate and Dave to scream in turn... until they realize Jeff was just fucking with them.

Nate: JEFF. WHAT DID I SAY?

Jade blinks, then gives Nigel a flat smile.

Jade: I thought you’d never ask.

INT. LONDON HOTEL - RILEY’S ROOM - NIGHT

Asher isn’t party to the antics in his room, having smartly escaped to hang out with Riley and Dylan before Nate took over. He’s crashed on the bed with Dylan going through pictures that they took over the course of the day. Asher frowns at one that Dylan swipes to, squinting to get a better look.

Asher: What is that supposed to be of?

Dylan: It’s not obvious? [ zooming in ] Look at that squirrel, Ash! They’re like up chilling on the abbey, welcoming us to their domain.

Asher: That’s your favorite picture you took today, isn’t it?

Dylan: Vicar squirrel. Squirrel vicar. I want her to bless our marriage.

They drop the conversation when Riley reenters the room, freshly showered and looking more at ease than she was most of the day. They ask if she’s feeling better, if the shower helped, and she confirms it did.

Riley: I really think it was just mainly the shock, you know? A lot of information to process at once that I wasn’t prepared for.

Asher: Totally. I get that.

Dylan: But it’s okay to be upset about it, too. Like, just because it’s not news you wanted to get. You’re allowed to be bummed about things not going the way you planned.

Maybe so, Dylan… though that’s obviously not easy for Riley to accept. She’s all about validating her friends’ emotions, encouraging them to feel whatever they need to feel, but it’s not so easy to practice what you preach.

Asher commiserates about unideal circumstances, though, as it’s his turn to complain about the wi-fi. He comments it’s like this place may not even have it at all… are they sure it’s not just a ruse? But his theory is disproved moments later when Riley’s phone starts buzzing, getting an incoming call.

Asher: Of course…

Dylan: You are so magical.

Riley’s expression lights up when she sees who it is, a picture of Lucas surrounded by kittens at the shelter appearing on her screen. She answers immediately.

Riley: Hello?

INT. ORLANDO HOME - DYLAN’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

The United Kingdom is intercut with Lucas back in Manhattan, changed out of his nicer clothes and back in a tee and comfortable sweats for the night. He smiles lightly when he hears her voice, realizing the call managed to go through. On the bed behind him, Dylan’s St. Bernard dog Mr. Puff is resting, idly watching Lucas move around the space.

Lucas: Hey. I got your message.

INT. LONDON HOTEL - RILEY’S ROOM - NIGHT

They’re connected, yes, but the service is spotty at best. Their voices get a little warped and Lucas cuts out for a moment, prompting Riley to start moving to find the best signal. She tells him to hold on, but to keep talking so she can see how he sounds. Dylan and Asher perk up.

Asher: Is it Lucas?

Dylan: It’s Lucas! HI, LUCAS!

Riley: Shh, I’m trying to listen!

Asher: Let’s go, Lucas James!

Dylan: LET’S GO, LUCAS JAMES!

Riley cracks up, shushing them as she continues to hover into different parts of the room. Finally, she seems to find a solution, heading towards the small balcony while the signal improves with every step. She grants Dylan and Asher a second to say hi and holds the phone out towards them, letting them shout at their best friend, then she hushes them as she steps out onto the balcony and closes the door behind her.

EXT. LONDON HOTEL - RILEY’S ROOM - BALCONY - NIGHT

With the signal clear and a quieter environment, the two of them can actually hear each other. Lucas admits he only heard about half of whatever just happened in the last minute, but she assures him it was just Dylan and Asher being silly.

Lucas: Sorry I missed your call earlier. I was, uh, preoccupied with something.

Riley: Oh, it’s okay. It wasn’t like a big thing. I just wanted… I guess I just wanted to hear your voice.

Lucas smiles to himself, bashful.

Riley: But we’re talking now, so, it’s all good. Got what I came for.

Lucas: Cool. Good. You said you had news?

Riley: Yeah. Um… [ making herself admit it ] I heard from Tisch. I got waitlisted.

Lucas: Shit.

Riley: Yeah.

Lucas shakes his head, trying to find the right thing to say. Riley fills the silence in the meantime, downplaying it.

Riley: I mean, it’s not a big deal. It’s one school. And you know, it’s like, I wasn’t even sure if I would’ve gone if I had gotten in. So it’s not like everything is ruined, or anything. It was just a surprise. That’s all.

Lucas: Still, that sucks. But they’re shitty anyway if they’re going to put you out like that. They obviously don’t realize what they’ve got in front of them -- especially if Maya got in and you didn’t.

Riley: I don’t know about that…

She’s disagreeing for the sake of cordiality, and she knows Lucas is one-hundred percent biased, but it’s still nice to hear him say it. And given how well they know each other, how close they are, Lucas hits on the true reason it stings so much effortlessly.

Lucas: You’re too good to be a second choice, Riley. If they can’t see that, then fuck them. You deserve to go somewhere that understands exactly how spectacular you are.

And though he acts like he never has the right words, he knew exactly what to say. Riley fiddles with the L charm on her necklace and chews her lip, unable to stop smiling.

Lucas: And anyway, you were stoked about Barnard, right? I feel like we talked a lot about them when you were applying. And they accepted you with a competitive offer, so clearly they know what they’re doing.

Riley: Yeah, they were my top choice otherwise.

Lucas: So you can start thinking about how you want to make the most of that now. You get to focus on all the possibilities, which I know you never get tired of.

Riley: [ with a laugh ] That’s true, I do enjoy possibilities. [ fondly ] Thanks, Lucas.

Lucas: Of course. Any time.

It almost aches, talking to him like this. Being so far apart, feeling so much that she can’t express the way she wants. It’s practically radiating off her, how much she loves him written all over her face.

Riley: I wish you were here. I know it’s kind of silly, because it’s only been a couple of days, but I miss you. A lot.

Lucas: [ after a moment ] Me too.

But he isn’t there, so they’ll have to make do. Riley isn’t ready to say goodbye yet, especially since there’s no telling when the next chance she’ll have decent wi-fi will be, so she keeps the conversation going.

Riley: I thought about you a lot today, actually. We went to Regent’s Park, and they’ve got a zoo...

Lucas climbs onto Dylan’s bed next to Mr. Puff, reclining back and settling in for a while.

Lucas: I hope you’re going to elaborate. [ softly ] Tell me about it.

So she does. Riley drops into a sitting position on the balcony, leaning back against the metal bars and launching into a thrilling recap. As the camera drifts downwards to the room a couple floors below...

Jack, pre-lap: Sounds like you’re handling it well, then.

INT. LONDON HOTEL - ERIC’S ROOM - NIGHT

Eric is on the phone as well, though he has the luxury of the international phone plan so he can comfortably sit at the desk in his room rather than cram onto the balcony. He’s just finished catching Jack up on the trip so far, and yes, the fact that no one has gotten injured or disappeared is a source of weary pride. Jack assures him that everything is running smoothly on the home front too when he asks.

Eric: Look at us, dividing and conquering. What’s that known as… could it be effective leadership? No idea what Yancy thinks he’s got on us.

Jack: To be fair, your leadership capacity was never in question.

Eric: No being fair to that man. He’s a hack, and he’s wrong. Moving on.

Jack laughs, Eric pleased with how he’s managing to keep him in lighter spirits.

Eric: You’ll be happy to know, actually, that I’ve been giving your proposition some thought.

Jack: [ tentatively hopeful ] Really? About filling out the principal application?

Eric: Don’t get too excited, I just said I’m thinking about it. But you may have made a few compelling points.

Jack: I often do.

Eric: What would be the harm in the practice of it, you know? Could be good to flex those muscles. And I know it wouldn’t go anywhere, since like I said, you’re the ideal candidate. So… I don’t know. Maybe it would be worth the time. I’m considering it, at least, so I hope you’re pleased.

Jack: Eric, I have no doubt in my mind that you would make an excellent principal. Especially at Adams.

Wow… Jack sounds pretty impassioned about that concept, especially for something only hypothetical. But it touches Eric all the same, his expression not looking all that different from how Riley’s looked while talking to Lucas.

Eric: Well, I should go. My night to do curfew rounds.

Jack: Best of luck, authoritarian-in-training. Make me proud.

Eric: Still stand by my stance that it would be better if you were here.

Jack doesn’t seem inclined to argue with that. But for now, nothing to be done. The two exchange goodnights and warm wishes, Eric smiling as he hangs up the phone.

INT. LONDON HOTEL - LOBBY - NIGHT

Jade and Nigel have lost track of time, situated in a couple of comfortable chairs in a small corner of the spacious lobby. They’re deep in conversation, the casual traipse around the hotel having shifted into a philosophical, meaningful chat that neither of them want to end.

Naturally, they’ve drifted to talking about the future, contrasting it against the minor vent session Jade already had in regards to the techie boys. She admits that she doesn’t really think it’s their fault, her irritation. It’s more about her.

Nigel: Why do you say that?

Jade: This is going to sound crazy, but I’m like… I feel like I’ve outgrown it. All of it. Does that make sense? Like, I love the techies. They’re like my brothers, they’re family. And I love being part of the A class. But the way everyone feels, this kind of drama around everything ending or whatever… I don’t feel that. If anything, I’m ready for something new. Sometimes it almost feels like it can’t get out of here fast enough. [ with an embarrassed laugh ] Does that make me a bitch? Am I way more soulless than I thought?

Nigel: I don’t think so. And I definitely don’t think you’re a bitch.

Jade: That’s impressive, considering the amount of Jade-specialty vent sessions you’ve had to listen to by now.

Nigel: You’re human. And remember, even your harshest mood is probably still leagues kinder than Maya Hart on any given day. Don’t forget context when you’re self-analyzing your own ugly emotions.

Good point. Jade runs a hand through her hair, tilting her head as she listens attentively to his perspective on it.

Nigel: But honest, it doesn’t make you a bitch. I get what you mean. Everyone is going to come around at different times, and deal with change in their own way, but I’m excited about what comes next. I think you said it right, the thing about outgrowing Adams. It’s not that you don’t appreciate it, and the people are always going to be family. But we’re ready to move onto the next thing. That’s okay. That’s a good thing, actually, most people would probably be jealous of how ready for it you are.

There is truly nothing so bonding and validating as a late-night conversation with someone you love. Jade smiles, grateful. She reaches out and takes his hand.

Jade: At least there’s one thing I know I’m never going to outgrow.

Aw… yeah, it’s kind of crazy to remember how long Jade has had feelings for Nigel. And it’s true that even as they’ve changed, she hasn’t outgrown them -- they’ve simply matured with them. Nigel beams, lifting their hands and planting a brisk kiss on her knuckles.

It would be nice if they could outgrow their rotten luck on this trip, though. They’re startled out of their quiet comfortability when Eric comes into the lobby on his rounds, spotting them sitting there. They blink at him, realizing they probably shouldn’t be hanging around in the lobby, and Nigel quickly checks his watch.

Jade: What time is it?

Nigel: Oh, shit --

From where he’s staring at them, dreading having to actually reprimand someone, Eric releases a pained sigh.

Eric: I really didn’t want to have to be an authoritarian…

EXT. LONDON HOTEL - ROOFTOP - NIGHT

The view from the top of the hotel isn’t the best, looking down on the streets of London and other hotels, but tonight is a little more interesting. There’s a night market going on, with vendors selling various cuisines and tourists who don’t have curfews wandering around. A SITARIST gently strums, creating a calm atmosphere.

Chai, who watches the scene from the rooftop, is anything but calm, though. She paces around, chewing on her nails as she waits.

When Isadora opens the door and creeps out, Chai drops her arms and halts. 

Isadora: I got your text. 

Chai: [ passive aggressive ] Nice of you to show up.

Confused and uncomfortable, Isadora asks what’s going on, to which Chai rolls her eyes. 

Chai: What do you think, Isa? [ off Isadora’s visible confusion ] You’ve been pushing me away this whole trip. No, even before the trip. I feel more like your annoying friend you secretly hate than your girlfriend. I’m fed up of it.

Oh. Isadora isn’t sure what to say to that. A STAFF MEMBER gets up from where they’re sat in a smoking area. They put out their cigarette and mutter a good luck to Isadora as they pass. She’s gonna need it. 

Chai: Why? I deserve to know. Did I do something wrong? Do you not want to be together anymore? What is it? 

Isadora: I… I don’t know. 

Chai: [ with a scoff ] You don’t know. Wonderful. That’s great, Isadora. Real great.

Isadora gets angry, not appreciating being shouted at. 

Isadora: What do you want me to say? Sorry? I’m sorry I offended you, Chai. There. 

Chai: I want you to tell me what’s going on with you! I may not be your therapist or Eric, but I’m your girlfriend and I deserve to know why you’re treating me like this. I deserve to be recognised.

Tell her, Chai. All of Chai’s frustration and anger over being ignored and feeling invisible yet again comes out as she vents. While this helps Chai feel somewhat better, as expressing your feelings always does, it overwhelms Isadora. She wraps her arms around herself and chews her lip. 

Chai: Relationships take work, Isa. If my parents divorce taught me anything, it’s that communication is key. But you don’t talk to me. You can’t even stand to be in my presence. It’s not fair. Either break up with me or act like my fucking girlfriend and COMMUNICATE!

Isadora opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. Rather than give Isadora time to process everything she just said, Chai snaps that this just goes to prove her point. Her patience has worn too thin to be considerate. 

Isadora, quietly: Are you saying you want to break up? 

Chai: If that’s what you want, yes. I don’t want to be strung along when you want out.

Is that a yes or a no? Isadora isn’t sure. There’s no time to clarify, because Eric comes out of the rooftop door. Both girls turn to look at him. 

Eric: One of the staff told me two Americans were up here. You two okay? 

Chai, flat: Dandy. 

Eric: … great. It’s past lights out, so I’m going to have to punish you both I’m afraid. 

Chai: Fine. I don’t even care anymore.

Chai shoots one last glare towards Isadora before moving past Eric and heading downstairs. Yikes. Eric frowns, concerned. 

Eric: What’s going on there? Do you want to talk about it? 

Isadora, snapping: No. Leave me alone.

She marches through the door and into the lift, pressing the button for the lobby before the doors slide shut. 

Eric: Wait, where are you going? Your room is on the third floor. Isadora?

It’s too late. She’s gone. With a sigh, Eric pulls out his phone and enters the stairwell. 

Eric, into the phone: Harper? You’re gonna have to take over for me…

EXT. LONDON - NIGHT MARKET - NIGHT

Isadora steps out of the hotel into the colourful, lively night market. No longer in her clothes from the day, but a ‘60s punk inspired look complete with hair sticking up in spikes, heavy eye makeup and a leather jacket with chains on it. Despite the world around her being in colour, Isadora herself is in black and white.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Paint It, Black” as performed by The Rolling Stones || Performed by Isadora De La Cruz

The sitarist strums to start us off. Isadora gets a couple of coins out of her pocket and drops them into the sitarist’s open case. The gentle-looking Indian man gives her a nod in gratitude, and when Isadora nods in return, the drums kick in. In an instant, the sitarist transforms. He’s now dressed in punk clothes, and becomes monochrome like Isadora, who sets off down the street.

I see a red door And I want it painted black No colors anymore I want them to turn black

She sings in a flat voice, staring dead into the camera, unaffected by the jovial people around her.

A few feet behind her, Eric struggles to catch up as he moves through the crowd. While Isadora channels her inner Medusa and turns the people and scenery around her into a black and white 60s pink fever dream, Eric remains in colour and modern.

Isadora passes a flower stall and picks up a handful of colourful flowers.

With flowers and my love Both never to come back

She scrunches up the flowers in her fist, the now colourless petals fall to the floor. When Eric gets to the florist, he apologises and gives them some money for the ruined flowers.

Isadora arrives at the end of the street where she can look at the river Thames in the distance. The last of the sunset reflects on the water, the only remaining colour around her.

If I look hard enough Into the setting sun My love will laugh with me Before the morning comes

She finishes off the performance in the same spot, dancing like a punk rocker in a mosh pit. She slows to a standstill and looks across at the sunset.

I wanna see the sun Blotted out from the sky I wanna see it painted, painted, painted Painted black, yeah

A downpour of rain brings an end to the performance, melting away the monochrome and punk as it drenches everything. Isadora allows the rain to shower her, but Eric -- who’s finally reached her -- covers his head with his arms. 

Eric: Are you done being an angsty teenager now? 

Isadora: Yes. 

Eric: I’m going to have to add another punishment for this, you know that, right?

They walk back to the hotel as the vendors pack up their stalls and tourists run inside for cover. Isadora is certainly more colourful now with her green hair, but she still looks just as punk and angsty as before. 

Isadora: Whatever.

She quickens her pace so that Eric lags behind. He shakes his head. 

Eric: Adopt a teenager, they said. It’ll be so rewarding, they said.

EXT. LONDON HOTEL - DAY

 The A class is filing onto the bus the next morning, Freya standing by the doors and helping count as they board while Simon flatly delivers a rousing explanation of their itinerary for the day. They’re on their way to the National Theatre, so better get ready for some fantastic playacting.

As the techie boys board the bus, they each greet Freya cheerfully, mimicking tipping their hats at her. For her brusque demeanor, she seemed relatively charmed by their silliness.

Meanwhile, Harper and Eric have pulled aside Jade, Nigel, Chai, and Isadora. Harper has taken over the tough love authority role, informing them that due to their breach of curfew yesterday, it’s been decided that they will spend the remainder of the day separated. Nigel and Jade attempt to plead their case.

Nigel: We really weren’t trying to skirt curfew. We just lost track of time.

Jade: I’ve been a perfectly rule-abiding student my entire career at Adams.

Isadora, helpfully: You participated in the techie revolt.

Jade: [ without looking at her ] Thank you, didn’t ask for your input. Mister E, you know we weren’t doing anything wrong. Please.

Eric, reluctantly: Being out past curfew is doing something wrong, Jade. You and Nigel will have plenty of time to spend together on the rest of the trip. [ nodding towards the bus ] Let’s go.

Jade sighs, spinning and heading towards the bus in defeat. Nigel waits a moment and then uncertainly follows, not sure exactly how much distance he’s supposed to put between them. Harper and Eric turn to Chai and Isadora.

Eric: And Isadora, your extra punishment for leaving the hotel on your own --

Isadora: You were with me the entire time. 

Eric: Yes, but you left without me. I simply followed you. Regardless, your extra punishment is no spending money for two days. Every time you leave the hotel, or group, without supervision or permission, another two days will be added. 

Isadora: I’m eighteen, I can spend my money if I want to.

Eric gives her a warning look. Not one from the school trip supervisor, but one from a dad. Isadora sighs and nods.

Harper: Any other arguments from you, ladies?

They glance at each other, still fuming from their argument. Chai shrugs, projecting aloof.

Chai: A little space will be nice, actually.

She turns to go, marching towards the bus. Eric watches the exchange, eyeing Isadora curiously. Ready to talk about it yet? Isadora shakes her head defiantly, not in the mood. She stomps away, Harper offering Eric a supportive pat on the back. Being the authority ain’t no joke!

INT. NATIONAL THEATRE - LOBBY - DAY

Simon and Eric make sure each of the students has a ticket to the production they’re about to see of Oliver! Harper instructs them that although they can’t control which seat they get, they’re welcome to swap amongst themselves if they see fit like the plane.

INT. NATIONAL THEATRE - OLIVIER THEATRE - DAY

Farkle has settled into his seat, one of the first in the class. As fate would have it, who should have the seat next to him but Isadora. They exchange smiles when she drops down next to him, Isadora already more relaxed than she’s been on the rest of the trip so far.

Farkle: We’ve got to stop meeting like this.

Isadora: Why do you make everything weird? Stop.

Farkle: I’m just saying, there’s some kind of karma going on here that you and I somehow always end up stuck together. I’m just not sure which one of us is getting punished.

Isadora: Mutual destruction.

Oh, aye. Farkle nods, accepting that with an amused smirk. He does ask though if she didn’t bother to try and swap a seat so Chai can sit with them. Isadora shrugs.

Isadora: We can’t anyway. We got banned from interacting today.

Farkle frowns, bewildered. He starts to question further, but they’re interrupted by Maya arriving to join them. She plops into the seat on the other side of Farkle, greeting them brightly.

Farkle: You too, huh? Guess we really are tied by the red string.

Isadora: Strangled, maybe.

Maya: What? Oh, no, this wasn’t luck. I threatened Yogi into trading with me. [ with a beam ] Should be a jolly good show.

Another ominous statement that needs elaboration… but no time. The lights dim, signaling the start of the show as the orchestra tunes below. Farkle and Isadora exchange a look, the latter playfully bumping his elbow on the arm rest between them as they settle in for the first act.

INT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BEDROOM - DAY

Charlie is nearly ready for his reception, looking cute and polished in his khakis and dress shirt. No tie yet though. He pulls on the navy suit jacket and adjusts the sleeves, touching up his hair in the closet mirror. It needs to look combed and styled just the right way so that most of his guests won’t even notice the length.

Rosie knocks on the door, stepping inside the room when Charlie nods her in. She’s dressed in a cute floral sundress.

Rosie: You look like a nerd.

Charlie: Wow, thank you, dear sister of mine. What a nice thing to say to me, on this, the day of my celebration.

Rosie: I didn’t say it was a bad thing. It’s just a fact. And you are a nerd, so it’s fitting.

Charlie: You look nice, though. Bit bold on the eye makeup. I mean, I don’t mind, but don’t you think mom is gonna say something?

Rosie: Who cares? And honestly, no. You are the sole recipient of her smothering attention today -- I’m just the errand girl. [ holding out her hand ] She wanted me to bring you this, so you didn’t forget it.

A Yale lapel pin. Just in case anybody forgets for five seconds that he got accepted. Charlie takes it, barely hiding his reluctance.

Charlie: Great. Thanks. I’ll be down in a second.

Rosie nods, then hesitates. It’s obvious there’s something on the tip of her tongue, something she wants to say… but she doesn’t really know how to say it, or maybe even really exactly what it is, so she doesn’t try. She retreats and leaves Charlie alone.

Charlie looks at his reflection again, really scrutinizing it. It’s going to be a long day of presenting… he needs to brace himself as much as he can. He goes to get some fresh air, stepping out onto his balcony as the orchestration kicks up…

EXT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BALCONY - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Where Is Love?” as performed by Oliver! London Palladium Cast || Performed by Isadora De La Cruz, Farkle Minkus, Riley Matthews, Charlie Gardner, and Zay Babineaux

[ Lyrics specific to characters -- follow along here! ]

Charlie leans against the rail of his balcony, turning the Yale pin over in his fingers. A shiny accessory for all those shiny stats… he sighs, looking out to his neighborhood and closing his eyes. Absorbing the temporary calm.

INT. NATIONAL THEATRE - OLIVIER THEATRE - DAY

At the same time, the production of Oliver! is in full swing, teeing up the famous track. Our key A class players watch with varied levels of interest, the actual Oliver actor kicking off the song with the first verse.

Then, things get a little interesting. Smooth transitions and creative camera angles allow us to seamlessly move from one performer to the next, creating a tapestry of interpretations.

Isadora picks up the slack first, echoing the sentiments of the show as she takes over the next couple of lines from her spot in the audience next to Farkle. Her expression is pensive, heavy, speaking to any number of things -- her late mother, her fracturing romance, her friends going in any number of directions. She and Farkle harmonize on “that’s only meant for me,” cueing the first transition…

Only it seems at first glance like the actual performer is taking back over -- and that’s because Farkle is now occupying the stage. He’s inhabiting the role of Oliver (finally reaching his peak as sickly Victorian orphan), dressed in the costume and smeared with dirt, but fully immersed in the performance. It isn’t until his actual self chimes in, taking over halfway through and watching himself from the audience, that we understand his take -- is love the dream, the art, the opportunities he could chase to a stage in Los Angeles… or is it sitting right next to him, not wanting him to go anywhere? He glances at Isadora, contemplative.

‘Til I am beside the someone who…

Riley and Farkle’s vocals overlap next, and she takes his place on the stage. Only her set up is different -- stripped down, simplistic, and she’s plain-clothed -- and there’s only one member in the audience. She looks directly at an imaginary Lucas as she sings the famed title lines, eyes shining and the world just the two of them. The only audience she cares about; the one who has been elevating her to be more almost since they met.

Where is love?

EXT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BALCONY - DAY

Charlie examines the Yale pin, growing more and more averse the longer he does. He knows for sure that it isn’t love -- that there’s nothing he’s more apathetic about -- but if Yale isn’t the answer, what is? If not there, then where? Where does he truly belong?

Who can say where she may hide Must I travel far and wide?

Zay’s vocals ease in and harmonize effortlessly with Charlie’s, the screen splitting in a fade to show both of them as they share the next line. Then focus is solely Zay’s for a moment, him standing alone on the empty stage.

INT. NATIONAL THEATRE - OLIVIER THEATRE - DAY

There’s no one watching his performance, his question more of a shout into the void. With everything so frozen in time, on every front, he has to wonder when things will resume -- when someone will start putting him first again, that he can mean something to.

Then he prompts the final crescendo, all of the vocalists joining back together for a strong harmonized finish.

EXT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BALCONY - DAY

As the orchestration peters out, Charlie takes another look at the lapel pin… then pockets it, choosing not to put it on. He heads back into his room.

INT. NATIONAL THEATRE - OLIVIER THEATRE - DAY

The audience breaks into applause as the performer wraps up the rendition, the A class clapping along. The production rolls right along, oblivious to the projection the ensemble just imagined through the performance.

INT. CHARLIE’S CHURCH - BANQUET HALL - DAY

Charlie’s reception is off without a hitch, a pleasant and charming gathering set up in the lovely banquet hall of their church. It’s well-attended for a graduation party, though it’s anyone’s guess how many of those people are there for Eleanor versus the actual man of the hour. She’s clearly in her element, entertaining a gaggle of church ladies and getting ample opportunity to brag about her golden son and all his accomplishments.

Eleanor: That’s right, Yale. Oh, we’re so excited. And you know, I don’t want to jinx anything -- but he’s been quite friendly with one of his good friends these last few months. Riley?

Trina: Oh, of course. You’ve mentioned her plenty.

Danielle: And we saw the prom photos! Such a gorgeous duo.

Maitland: Eleanor… you’re not saying --

Eleanor, coyly: I’m only saying, ladies. Keep your ears to the ground -- there might be some big news on that front any day now.

Well, I wouldn’t bet your pass to Heaven on it, Eleanor. The ladies twitter enthusiastically anyway, though, all sold on the concept of dear, darling Charlie perhaps announcing a commitment to Riley Matthews.

As misrepresentative as that sentiment is, Charlie isn’t completely without peers of his own. EVAN SCOTT has shown up to offer his congratulations, chatting with Charlie comfortably by the gift table where he’s easily accessible for guests to come and pay him well wishes. It’s nice of Evan to show up, and Charlie clearly appreciates it -- perhaps an actual friend came out of the hell that was Haverford after all.

Evan: I’m sure the rest of the guys would’ve come too, but I guess there’s a lot going on right now. Lots of post-graduation travel, you know?

They’d have to be invited to even know to show up, Evan, and even if they were, Charlie knows damn well that would never happen. He offers a tight smile anyway, opting not to get into it.

Charlie: Totally. Ha ha.

He’s about to gain another unexpected ally. He nearly falls over when Rosie bolts over and rams into him, speaking so fast and in a hushed whisper that he can’t even understand her.

Charlie: You excuse me for a second, Evan? I think my sister’s been possessed.

Evan laughs, giving them space. Charlie gets Rosie to calm down, instructing her to speak slowly so he has even a chance of understanding what’s got her so energized. She’s breathless, and her eyes are wide.

Rosie: Bridgette. She’s -- did you know that she was -- Bridge, she’s --

Her name was all Charlie needed to hear. He stabilizes Rosie by steadying her shoulders and then glances around her, looking towards the doorway.

Lo and behold, the rumors are true -- and spreading quickly throughout the congregation. Bridgette Gardner has arrived, timid but decisively, making an unexpected and triumphant return to the fray. She’s at least spared Charlie the drama of wearing a lace bralette by showing up in a casual but classy black jumpsuit, but her mere presence is enough to get people talking no matter what she chose to wear.

She and Charlie lock eyes, the latter breaking into a smile. Yes, it’s clear he was actually expecting her. He ignores all the eyes on him as he makes his way across the room and goes to greet her at the entrance, then suspends any potential assumption that she isn’t welcome by pulling her into a hug.

Well, this is guaranteed to be the talk of the event when everyone heads home this afternoon -- forget all of Eleanor’s careful planning. The woman herself is shell-shocked, doing her best to maintain appearances and appear unflappable but obviously stunned by the surprise arrival. Ambrose stares from across the room where he’s chatting with other husbands, equally caught off guard but seemingly not affronted by his daughter’s sudden reappearance.

Bridgette and Charlie pull apart. She scans the room around them, the nosy partygoers eyeing them with rapt interest, then raises an eyebrow at him. She offers a brave smirk.

Bridgette: Nice tie.

She’s right, it is a nice tie -- and she’d know, since she picked it out. Charlie glances down at it, a tasteful but simple floral pattern in soft blues, greens, and purples. Fresh, understated, and far more like Charlie than anything else picked out for the reception.

He returns her smile, then invites her further into the party.

Grace, pre-lap: So you think it went well?

INT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - KITCHEN - DAY

Lucas and GRACE FRIAR are chatting at the kitchen table, Lucas helping her go through bills as they recap the gist of his interview. It’s hard for him to say, but all things considered, he didn’t think it went poorly. There’s a chance, at least, which is more than Lucas usually has to go off of.

It’s clear from the expression on her face that Grace is proud of him. She doesn’t know how to articulate that, and she’s only able to really show it in the moments when he’s not looking, but the glimmer in her eyes and small smile on her face leave little room for doubt.

She reiterates that she hopes it works out, because they really need the financial support. Going through the bills just makes that all the more clear… but she thinks he can do it. He can get the aid. And he’s been saving all that money to supplement it -- which he’ll need every cent of, to be sure -- but it could really happen. He might get out of here.

Lucas is obviously trying to keep his expectations subterranean levels of low, but even he has an excited edge to his voice when he talks about it. They transition to discussing the rest of the day, Grace asking if he’s got plans. With Riley and Dylan and Asher out of town, he must be bored stuck here with her.

Lucas: I’ve found bizarre ways to keep myself busy. But I have a quick thing to do in a few minutes, then I’m probably gonna go to the Orlandos again for dinner. I think Randall is making tacos.

Grace, wistfully: That sounds delicious. I can’t remember the last time I had a really good taco. I don’t know what I’m going to be doing for dinner… just pick-up, I suppose.

Lucas: Dad’s not eating with you?

Grace: He has a doctor’s appointment. Said he probably wouldn’t be hungry after.

Lucas: [ with a scoff ] Since when does anyone in this apartment go to the doctor…

He doesn’t bother to hide the bitterness in his voice. But Grace merely shrugs, claiming he just told her about it this morning. She thinks it’s just his annual physical -- something the two of them don’t get the privilege of having, of course -- but that’s all she knows.

Lucas gets up to get ready to go, claiming if she wants, he can ask Randall if she can come over for dinner. She waves him off, not wanting him to go to the trouble, but Lucas insists.

Lucas: Come on, mom. You deserve to have a really good taco sometimes.

Well, when you put it like that… Grace laughs to herself, then shrugs.

Grace: Why not. Better than anything I would throw together here, I’m sure.

That’s settled, then! Lucas tells her he’ll let her know when to head over tonight. First, though, he’s got business to take care of.

EXT. COVENT GARDEN - DAY

Covent Garden is bustling with people, tourists and locals alike. Boutiques line the streets, along with plenty of cafés and restaurants. The class is free to roam on their own (even Isadora), and they have a good couple of hours to do all the shopping they desire (except Isadora).

As the class sets off to explore, Eric thanks Freya for filling in for Harper. 

Freya: Don’t worry about it. Got nuffin’ else to do but sit in my bus, ‘ave I?

Eric is a little bewildered by Freya’s thick West Country accent, not having heard her talk this much before, but thanks her once again. He turns to Simon and asks him to show him where the best coffee is. If he’s going to survive any longer on this trip, he’s going to need a lot more caffeine.

Elsewhere, the techie boys arrive at the square where professional street performers work. There’s a STRING QUARTET playing music that matches the sunny weather and upbeat atmosphere, a CIRCUS PERFORMER walking around on super high stilts in stripy colourful trousers, and… a dog? A DOG MAN? A man’s head somehow stuck in a kennel? Whatever it is, their attention has been caught.

The dog man greets them as they run over to him, his accent northern and his tone depressed. It’s unclear whether the depression is part of the character or because of the fact that he’s playing this character. 

Nate: Dude! This is amazing! Quick, get a pic of me and this guy.

Jeff: Genuinely iconic. 

Dylan: Can I film you for my vlog? 

Dog Man: What the hell is a vlog?

Well, this’ll certainly keep them entertained for a while.

Jade and Isadora are wandering around the fruit market. Both separated from the other half of their couples, but one a lot more upset about it than the other. 

Jade: This whole thing is so insanely stupid. It’s totally cruel to ban us from interacting... we were literally just talking.

Isadora: Is it really that big a deal? It’s like one day. Why do you care?

Jade: ... because he’s my boyfriend? Because we were excited to hang out on this trip together? I don’t know. [ a beat ] You know, Dora, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’ve been a little sharp.

Isadora: No kidding?

Jade: Like I get it, I’m not in the best mood either. But... especially since you don’t even seem to care about your punishment, seems kind of weird.

Someone actually calling Isadora out on her behavior -- someone other than her father figure, that is -- kind of snaps her out of it. She blinks, twisting her fingers together.

Isadora: Sorry. Didn’t even realize.

Jade: It’s fine. I’m just saying. And like, you don’t even have to deal with it, really, since your girlfriend isn’t even here...

Isadora gets lost in thought, contemplating what Jade said. Has she been as barbed as everyone seems to think? Speaking of, where is Chai? And Harper, for that matter?

INT. GUILDHALL SCHOOL - CORRIDOR - DAY

The women sit in a makeshift waiting area along with other hopeful university students and their guardians at Guildhall University, a school dedicated to the musical and theatre arts. Chai seems nervous, but determined, tapping her foot lightly as they wait.

TRUDY, a short middle-aged woman with bright blue hair and a multi-patterned dress on, pushes open a door. 

Trudy: Rebecca Fresco?

Chai stands up and follows Trudy into her final audition. Harper gives her a thumbs up.

Harper: You got this.

Chai gives Harper a nervous smile. The door swings shut.

INT. GUILDHALL SCHOOL - REHEARSAL ROOM - DAY

Along a table sit the ADMISSIONS PANEL. There are six of them, including Trudy, who sits down in her chair while Chai takes position in the middle of the room. 

Chai: I actually go by my middle name -- Chai -- not Rebecca.

Trudy apologises and makes a note of her preferred name. She tells Chai that she’s the only American who’s gotten this far in the process. There are a couple of other foreign students, but they’re all from Europe. She goes on to explain that because this is the first year of their new, experimental arts degree, there’s a lot of things still in the air, and it will be shaped around what the students need and want. 

Trudy: Is there any particular part of theatre arts that you’re most interested in? I know you went to a performing arts high school, so I expect that’s your main focus? 

Chai: It is currently, yes. I’m very open to exploring other areas of the arts, though. My school has a way of bringing people together no matter what their focus is or where their talents lay, so I’ve gotten the opportunity to learn about the technical production side of theatre, too. 

Trudy: That’s great. What do you think you’d gravitate towards when studying here? 

Chai: Definitely dancing and vocal performance, but also stage makeup and costuming. I’m skilled in hair and makeup, and this past semester I’ve been learning the basics of designing and making clothes. 

Trudy: Brill. We can definitely cater to that. [ a beat as she and the others write things down ] Okay. You’ve prepared a performance for this audition, correct?

Chai nods. She has a vocal performance, then a dance performance. One of the admissions people gets the prepared music up on their phone and presses play.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “I Know I Have A Heart” as performed by Cinderella West End Original Cast || Performed by Chai Fresco & Isadora De La Cruz

[ Lyrics specific to characters -- follow along here! ]

Chai takes a breath, then sings. Her voice is bright and clear and she hits the notes with relative ease. She’s come a long way since the beginning of her journey at Adams and the days of being a backup singer for Maya. What makes this performance so impressive, though, is the passion behind it. The lyrics hit close to home at the moment, and the emotion she expresses packs a punch.

I was so not naïve With no heart on my sleeve Always walked out before I was rejected

When the orchestra comes in, Chai begins to move. She uses the space as if it’s a stage, treating the panel as an audience rather than the people deciding her fate. Her stage presence shines, the role of heartbroken princess a perfect fit.

I was so unaware That I could fall so hard But what good is a heart If you don't care?

EXT. COVENT GARDEN - NEAL’S YARD - DAY

We cut to the person in question, Isadora. She’s in a smaller part of Covent Garden full of colour. Some of the buildings have their walls painted, while others leave the bricks bare and instead paint the window frames and shutters.

Isadora looks through a shop window, then turns as she takes over the song.

Should have known all along That I need to be strong For a girl who's like me There's no happy ending

She walks towards a boutique, fancy dresses and glass slippers in the window. When the music swells into the chorus, she begins to waltz around the yard. We cut between her and Chai, who’s doing the same. A slow dance cut in two.

And it's shattered and bruised And now the laugh's on me Anyone want a heart that's barely used?

We continue to transition between the two as they both take on the final chorus together. They both put all of their anguish and frustration into the song, their vocals even more powerful and heart wrenching when harmonised.

INT. GUILDHALL SCHOOL - REHEARSAL ROOM - DAY

We end on Chai, breathing heavily after the final belt. For a moment the room remains silent, the emotional performance having suddenly made the atmosphere heavy, but then the panel burst into applause.

Chai allows herself a small smile, but knows that it isn’t over yet -- both for her audition, and relationship with Isadora.

INT. CHARLIE’S CHURCH - BANQUET HALL - DAY

Bridgette saunters over to Charlie by the food table, leaning close to speak in conspiratorial tones as she reaches for a carrot stick. Both of them are very aware that all eyes continue to drift towards them, but for once Charlie doesn’t seem afraid of the attention. In fact, in a weird way, he almost feels a sort of pride.

Bridgette: Am I correct in guessing you didn’t let mom in on your little plan to invite me to the party?

Charlie: I don’t know what you mean? Doesn’t she seem completely in the loop?

Bridgette: Mm mm mm mm mm. Blasphemous behavior, and on such a momentous day. What gave you such a dastardly idea, Charlie -- the devil himself?

All jokes aside, Bridgette admits that she’s glad he asked her to come. It’s nice to be with the sisters again, and the look on Eleanor’s face was worth it alone. But it was a pretty sharp change of pace from wanting everything to go “smoothly” -- what made him change his mind? Charlie smiles, shrugging nonchalantly.

Charlie: I can do my own thing now and then.

That doesn’t make much sense to Bridgette, but it’s Charlie. She’s not going to question it. She lightly pinches his side, enjoying the feeling of being co-conspirators again -- but she clams up when Ambrose approaches. He clears his throat, gently getting Charlie’s attention.

Ambrose: Think there might be a bit of a mix up with the guest list. Are you expecting someone else?

You mean, aside from resurrecting the long-lost sister? Charlie looks appropriately confused, following Ambrose’s nod towards the entrance where Eleanor seems to be debating with a wayward soul who she is desperately trying to gatekeep from the party. She’s already had enough trespassers for one reception, thank you very much!

When Charlie recognizes who she’s confronting, his jaw drops open slightly. Lucas?

He exchanges a look with Ambrose before making a beeline for the door, intercepting his mother before she tears a biblical new one into Lucas.

Charlie: Mom, mom, it’s cool. I know him. He’s -- he’s a friend from Adams.

Eleanor: Well, he isn’t on the guest list.

Lucas: I’m not much of a list person.

Charlie: Seriously, mom, it’s okay. I’ll take care of it.

Eleanor remains displeased, but she allows Charlie to take over. She flurries back over to her friends in a huff -- how many other ways could this go wrong? Charlie waits until she’s out of earshot, turning his gaze back to Lucas with a million questions.

Lucas, deadpan: She seems nice.

Charlie: What are you doing here? I mean, not that it’s a problem. Despite the indignation of my mom -- she’s having a rough day.

Lucas: Rest assured, I’m not here to gate crash. I’m in and out; I think if I hung around too long in this place I’d probably burst into flames.

You’re not the only one, Lucas. He continues, removing his hands from behind his back to reveal he’s holding an envelope.

Lucas: I’m just playing messenger.

Charlie raises his eyebrows, looking at Lucas in surprise as he takes the parcel. It’s decently-sized for an envelope, and his name is scrawled on the front in Riley’s familiar loopy handwriting.

When he opens it and pulls out the card inside, though, it’s much more than just a message from Riley. It’s a custom-made card -- with the artistic expertise of Dylan, Asher, and Jade behind the design -- and on the back and all along the inside, his A class peers have written him congratulations sentiments and signed it. Even the teachers contributed, a kind message from Jack, Eric, and Harper present on the inside flap.

And yes, even Zay. He’s found a way to keep it casual while still meaningful, depth behind the message concealed in plain sight amidst all the other well wishes and in spite of how weird things are between them at the moment.

Good job surviving. Wherever the hell you’re going after this, don’t forget where you belong… or whatever 1D would say.

Charlie laughs, a bit choked up. Sure, none of them could be there in person due to bad scheduling, but he was dead wrong if he thought they were going to let him celebrate alone -- least of all when Riley Matthews is involved. 

Charlie: This is great. Thanks for delivering. You can tell Riley it was well-received.

Lucas: My life’s work.

Charlie: Are you sure you don’t want to stay? I know my mom seems scary, but --

Lucas: Believe me, she is far from the scariest thing I’ve ever confronted. But I’ll pass. It’s taco night at the Orlandos, so I’ve got better places to be.

So with that, he’ll leave him be. Charlie thanks him again for bringing the card, letting his focus drift back to the gift once Lucas is gone. Then he lifts his gaze, something across the room catching his eye.

Ambrose has taken the spot he vacated, actually talking to Bridgette. It doesn’t look like the easiest conversation in the world, but it’s something, amicable communication for the first time in years. And if Ambrose is willing to open up the door for her, to give her a chance… well, who knows what he might hear out from Charlie, too.

Charlie can’t help but smile, hugging the card to his chest while he watches part of his family slowly rebuild.

INT. COVENT GARDEN - SHOPS - DAY

The A class are free to roam throughout the centre, Riley and Farkle taking some time to browse for souvenirs. Farkle hesitates when he spots something he’s sure Isadora would love -- an embroidered patch with something darkly silly, a perfect match for her aesthetic -- pointing it out to Riley. She agrees Isadora would like it, he should grab her and show her while they’re there.

Farkle: Well, I was thinking more like…

Farkle stops his own sentence. He was thinking what, that he’d get it for her? That he’d give her a gift for no reason, as if that’s something normal people do? As if he’s not continuing to kid himself, playing into these weird instincts with her when she has a girlfriend and only sees him as a friend?

Farkle: Never mind. I don’t know what I was thinking.

Riley commiserates, commenting that shopping for others can be tough no matter who it is. Like, she’s been keeping an eye out for something to get Lucas all trip so far, but nothing has jumped out to her.

Farkle: Is he that picky?

Riley: No, although that’s kind of the problem. He’s not really a gift person, because he never like… thinks he wants anything, so he’ll basically accept anything and be cool with it. But that makes him impossible to shop for, because there’s not really a clue as to where to begin.

Dylan and Asher chime in from the opposite side of a shelf.

Asher: Seriously, he’s awful.

Dylan: So true, bestie.

Riley: Besides, it’s not even necessarily him that’s the problem. It’s just like… there’s nothing good enough.

Farkle: I’m sure the artisans here will really appreciate that review on Yelp.

Riley: [ elbowing him ] Not like that. I just mean… nothing is going to convey what I want to say properly. [ softer ] No souvenir gift is going to capture how I feel about him. It’s too much.

Doesn’t help that her primary love language is physical touch, and he’s currently thousands of miles away. Sort of makes Farkle’s angst about Isadora feel trivial in comparison. He gives her an awkward pat on the shoulder, though he’s not going to be of any help to her gift dilemma.

Some jaunty, understated guitar floats in, echoing throughout the Garden…

EXT. COVENT GARDEN - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Step Inside Love” as performed by Cilla Black || Performed by Covent Street Performer

A new STREET PERFORMER has taken the limelight, gathering the attention of much of the wandering crowd. She’s blonde and spritely like Maya, only with a head of curls, but her vocals pack a serious punch. She’s animated and riveting, delivering a soulful rendition of the classic British tune and earning a decent chunk of change in tips in the meantime.

One of the people captivated by her performance is Maya, who stops wandering the stores to listen. Her eyes sparkle as she gets closer, sensing a kindred spirit in the brassy busker. And she’s impressed by how deftly she can hold a crowd -- the Garden breaks out into applause as she finishes her rendition, Maya an eager participant.

She makes a point of approaching when the crowd has mostly dispersed, launching into effusive praise. The street performer listens with mild interest as Maya… well, does her Maya thing, dramatically insisting upon their twin soul energies and lauding her ability to command a space with her stage presence. That, and she has such admiration for someone like her, out there busting her chops to follow the dream wherever it might take her. Starting from nothing, scrounging towards the goal. It’s inspiring, really.

At this, though, the street performer snorts, catching Maya by surprise.

Street Performer: Oh, fuck me. You think I’m some poor bastard, don’t you? Singing for pennies to earn my daily bread.

Maya: Oh, no. No, I just meant --

Street Performer: Love, I went to a conservatory. One of the top bleeding performing arts programs in the country, at that.

Maya, stunned: What?

Street Performer: That’s right. Class of 2015, in the flesh. Oh, and they promised us everything. Going to such an elite school, with such strong credentials, it was supposed to be a direct pipeline. That’s what they said, anyways. Straight to the West End! Well, look around us -- does this look like the West End to you?

Maya: … no. No, there must be a mistake. If you were to have graduated from a top program, then you wouldn’t be --

Street Performer: I did, and I am, love. Look right in front of you, see me with your eyes. And read my lips: it’s all a sham. I sing because it would kill my soul not to, but it’s a thankless time. Do yourself a favour, jump off this train before it runs off the tracks. Unless you want it to be you wiping your bum with your fancy university degree with nothing to show for it in five years time belting classics for spare change next to a little dog man!

Dog Man: Hey… woof. 

Street Performer: An absolute farce!

Whatever Maya was expecting from the networking moment, it sure as hell wasn’t that. She’s dumbstruck, completely bowled over by this unanticipated reality check -- and not even sure how to move past it. She’s rooted to the spot, the rest of the world continuing on around her as if she’s not even there.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Jack is working on the final details of his reapplication, all the pieces polished and ready to submit. Just a tweak here and there… but something about the process feels emptier now. Like he’s doing it, but somehow, his heart is no longer in it. It’s hard to see how that could’ve happened, when this place has been his whole entire world for so long.

But there are new paths stretching out in front of him now… if he chooses to follow them. He releases a sigh and leans back, surveying the office that he’s inhabited for so many years. It’s strange to think that he could be anywhere else… but it doesn’t feel impossible anymore.

At the moment, though, he’s sure of one thing -- there’s somewhere else he’d rather be right now. Struck with inspiration, Jack pulls his laptop closer, settling into new work.

EXT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BALCONY - DAY

Rosie and Charlie deposit the last of the graduation gifts on his bed for him to go through -- mainly envelopes, lots of money. Rosie scoffs as she sifts through them.

Rosie: I can’t believe this. People are basically paying you for getting through high school. This is such a double standard.

Charlie: What? How?

Rosie: Male privilege. Everyone just loves to hand you cash. You know what they’re going to give me when I graduate? Flowers. And like, probably gift cards to Pottery Barn.

Charlie: Hey, you can find some pretty neat things at a Pottery Barn if you look hard enough. And flowers are nice. I could go for some flowers.

Rosie: Of course you could. Nature boy. But flowers die in like a week, and I can’t buy movie tickets or eye shadow with $15 to Pottery Barn.

Charlie shakes his head, amused. Speaking of nature… the two of them meander their way out onto the balcony, opting for the pseudo-privacy and fresh air. After a full day of church community socializing, it’s nice to take in some quiet for a minute… until Rosie breaks it, surveying his room through the sliding door.

Rosie: Do you think I could swap the blinds on the door for drapes? I’m trying to decide how I’ll decorate once you’re gone and I take over your room.

Um, she thought! Charlie refutes this, claiming there’s no way she’s getting his room. He’s going to college, not military school, so he’ll still need a house to come back to every few months. And sorry, he’s not giving up his sacred balcony that easily.

Rosie: … so you’re planning on coming home? Or like to visit. At least sometimes?

Seems Rosie found an indirect way to ask the questions she really wants to know… Charlie realizes from the subtle nerves in her voice that this is the first time she’s had a sibling leave home since Bridgette. And she might be back now, in a surprise twist, but when she left the first time she really just left.

Charlie remembers how that felt. It would scare him too. He quietly assures her that he’s not planning on going anywhere for too long, and he’s never going to disappear out of her life.

Charlie: No matter where I am, or how long I’m there, you can always talk to me. You know that, right?

Rosie: … yeah. Yeah, I do. [ a beat ] I guess like… maybe I might miss you. Or something. Whatever.

No kidding… Rosie takes the chance to reiterate that Charlie can talk to her, too. About anything. She knows she’s the younger sibling and he’s like weird about taking pride in being the “role model” or whatever, but she’s getting older too. So if he wanted, he could talk to her about stuff. Like with Bridgette. And with him going off to college, there will probably be lots of new things to discuss.

She’s doing her best to tee him up… Charlie exhales a laugh, scratching his ear.

Charlie: Honestly, think there’s still plenty of stuff for us to discuss here.

Rosie: Like what? Daisy’s sudden career in climate change --

Charlie, quickly: That I’m gay.

Oh. Well there it is. Charlie obviously didn’t mean to stumble through it like that, to just spring it on her so haphazardly, but the instant he realized he was actually going to say it, it’s like it just slipped out. And the silence that follows doesn’t make it any less clunky, Charlie keeping his gaze anywhere but at her as he braces for potential rejection from one of the people he cares about most.

But Rosie isn’t going to reject him. In fact, she smiles instead, clearly pleased he finally said it.

Rosie: That’s nice.

Charlie: … you don’t sound surprised.

Rosie: I had my guesses. [ off his expression ] Charlie, you went with me to 1D concerts. You’ve never had a girlfriend. We’ve watched probably forty Riverdale makeout scenes together, and not once did you ever react to Cami Mendes or Lili Reinhart. The only time you ever reacted at all aside from getting all awkward was when I said KJ Apa looked good during a shirtless scene, and you agreed.

Charlie: I don’t even remember that --

Rosie: Also you’re like, the nicest boy I know, and I’m not just saying that because you’re my brother. In fact, the fact that you’re my brother and I’m still saying that shows how ridiculously nice you are. No straight boy is that nice. That was my main reasoning.

Well, damn. You think you’re covering all your bases… anyway, Rosie is just really, really glad he finally told her. That means a lot to her. And she promises, sincerely, that his truth is safe with her. He keeps her secrets and always protects her -- now it’s her turn to do the same.

And that’s clearly a relief to Charlie. His greatest fear was always that he’d fall from grace, that if she knew she’d no longer look up to him, but it seems like the opposite is true. He steps forward and pulls her into a hug, one that she happily reciprocates.

When they pull apart, she throws an “ew” out there, just for the sake of bratty sibling consistency. Charlie laughs and messes with her hair, telling her to ew herself. After a moment of silence, now that they’ve cleared things up, Rosie has a new topic she wants to unpack.

Rosie: So you had a boyfriend, right? Like a secret one.

Charlie: Um, what --

Rosie: Who was it? Charlie, tell me. I have to know now.

Charlie: No. No, mm mm, we’re not doing that.

Rosie: I have theories. Wait, just listen to my theories and tell me if I’m hot or cold.

Charlie: [ heading back into his room ] Nope. Not doing it.

Rosie: You need to tell me! I put research into this! I’m only asking you to hear out my potential suspects --

Charlie: La la la la la --

Rosie eagerly follows after him.

EXT. LONDON STREET - NIGHT

Audition over, Harper and Chai are on their way back to the hotel as evening falls. Chai excitedly talks about the course that she auditioned for and how student-focussed it is. Harper nods along, having already heard all of these earlier in the year when Chai was working on her application. 

Chai: You just don’t get this sort of stuff in America. You have to take so many different classes, you don’t get to just focus on your major. But here, they do specific courses. Honestly, there are degrees for everything under the sun. While I was researching I saw one for stand-up comedy. 

Harper: Not sure how I’d feel if I knew John Mulaney had a degree in comedy. Gives a totally different spin on the college bit he does. 

They change topic to London, Chai reminiscing on her time here as an exchange student and mentioning how excited she’ll be to come back if they accept her. 

Harper: I hate to dampen the mood, and I know you have your heart set on this place, but have you seriously thought about what moving here would mean? 

Chai: What do you mean?

Harper: You wouldn’t be moving here as a high school student. You’d be an adult. That means finding your own housing after freshman year, getting a job, building an entire new network when you already have one in New York. It’s not all red buses and hot accents, Chai. You’re entering the real world, with nobody to help you out. It’ll be damn hard. That’s not to say you shouldn’t do it, I fully believe you can. But you should really think about what studying here will be like.

Chai hadn’t really thought about it from that perspective before. Everyone she knows is in New York. Her entire support system is in New York. Would she be able to hack it on her own on a whole other continent?

But then again, does she really want to stay in New York for people who can cast her aside so easily? Her parents barely noticed she was gone during the exchange programme, and the way things are with Isadora right now… there’s not much tying her to the states. 

Noticing Chai’s now uncertain mood, Harper tries to lift her spirits by asking her if she’s excited for the rest of the trip. This does perk her up, but the questions surrounding her future are still strong in the forefront of her mind.

EXT. LONDON HOTEL - PATIO - NIGHT

Zay has stationed himself on the patio of the hotel restaurant, offering him a decent view of the city as the evening descends into night. Farkle peers out from inside the building and spots him, coming over to join him.

Farkle: Rooming with me and Maya truly that bad? You don’t have to hide out, you know. You could just ask us to cool it.

Zay: You know that joke doesn’t land when you know damn well telling you two to chill would do fuck all. Since when have you ever listened to me?

Farkle: Touché.

Zay: But no, amazingly, not every choice I make is about you. I’m just getting my fix of the nightlife before curfew. Based on how Eric cracked down on Nigel and Jade, I’m not trying to incur his chillingly supportive wrath.

Farkle: Understandable. Especially Eric’s unique brand of scary. Mind if I join?

Zay gestures blasély to the chair next to him, Farkle taking it. He asks Zay, now that he’s observed it so much, how he’d rank London.

Zay: Well, it’s no New York City, but it has its charms.

Farkle: Loyalist, I see.

Zay: NYC is a hellish pit, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. What can I say, it’s home.

True enough. They settle into silence for a few moments longer, Farkle actually lasting an impressively long time for his usual standard, before he breaks it again.

Farkle: I was hoping to ask you something.

Zay: Just when I thought you might actually manage a peaceful moment.

Farkle: Hey, I was quiet. For like, thirty seconds. And you should know me better than that at this point.

Zay: Unfortunately, I do. [ with a sigh ] Go on.

Farkle: Now that Maya’s told you about the business card… what would you do? If you were in my position?

Zay: I hope you realize that you stumbling into this opportunity, having a bona fide connection to the industry fall into your lap based solely on your talent and potential, and then saying fuck it and throwing it all away would be the most privileged white people shit ever. You do realise that, right?

Farkle: Yes, I’m aware of the potential optics.

Zay: Okay, good. Just checking. Otherwise… I mean, I guess the bigger question is why wouldn’t you? Go after it?

Farkle: Why wouldn’t I?

Zay: Yeah. Like I said, this is the kind of thing basically everyone at Adams would kill to have in their pocket coming out of graduation. And you appreciate that, obviously, if you’re seriously considering it. So that just leaves the question of why not? What’s making you hesitate?

Farkle contemplates the question, not sure he wants to face it. Because it means being vulnerable, and he’s never been especially good at that.

Farkle: I suppose it’s just like… it’s kind of what you said. New York is home. You know? And I know that’s part of what college is all about, leaving the nest and all that, but… I like the way things are here. I like… [ searching for the words ] I know the city. I know the culture, I know the people. I love the people. Everybody I love is in New York.

Zay knows that feeling. He nods.

Farkle: And for a long time… the friends I have now are everything to me. I know what it’s like to have nothing, to have no one in your corner. I don’t ever want to go back to that. I’m just worried that… if I go away, if I put those aside to pursue this thing that might not even pan out… it’s not worth the trade. I know now that it’s not an even trade. And I’m so good at accidentally fucking everything up… [ timid ] I don’t want to risk chasing the dream somewhere unknown if it means losing my team.

Given Farkle’s history, Zay can see how this concern is particularly gripping for him. And the root of his fear is something all of them are feeling -- everything is about to change in a few weeks, they’re all going to go their separate ways, and there’s no way to know that these friendships will hold. Especially if they go in such different directions.

Still, can’t put your life on hold to cling to the way things are.

Zay: I get what you mean. I had my diva phase this year, you saw it, so you know I know what I’m talking about. I get how chasing after one thing can feel like you’re neglecting the other, that this stupid art kind of makes us so crazy that we push everyone else away in the pursuit of it. I think it’s a valid worry.

Farkle: Yeah?

Zay: Yes. But I don’t think that means you shouldn’t do it. I think you just have to find your balance -- which you should be good at now, considering how much damage control you’ve already had to do.

Farkle: Fair point.

Zay: As for the distance… look, I’m not gonna act like I’m some kind of expert. I’ve been in the same place my whole life. I’m not planning to go far if everything goes as planned, least for now. And being away from people you care about sucks, no matter how big or small the space between you. But… sometimes it’s necessary. Sometimes it’s for the better, getting some separation from the way things are.

Farkle: Really? You think so?

Zay: Yeah. I didn’t always, trust me, but it’s like… sometimes I guess it’s like you get stuck, and the only way to get past it and continue to grow is to step back. Branch out on your own, see who you are without that crutch. And the thing is, man, if someone is really your friend, they’d want you to do that. If we’re all just trying to find the best version of ourselves, and someone cares about you, then they’d want that for you too.

Farkle: Huh...

Zay: I don’t know what I’m saying, okay, I’m just talking out of my ass here. I’m not Riley, I don’t have the perfect advice. But I just think that… there’s no guarantee that going somewhere different, leaving the life you have right now, is going to irreparably damage everything. Especially if you’re doing it for a good reason, like pursuing your passion. And if your friends are true friends, they’ll push you towards that goal rather than pulling you back. If someone really loves you, they’ll want to see you at your best. They’ll set you free… and if it all works out, and you come back stronger for it, then even better.

Took Zay a lot of struggle on his own to reach that conclusion, but it seems like he’s pretty sure of it. And Farkle evidently appreciates the honesty, absorbing the sentiments and trying to figure out what that means for him.

Zay: I don’t know if that helps. Like I said, I’m just talking.

Farkle: No, no, you’re -- it does. Thanks, Zay. [ off his nod ] You know, you’re part of it. That team I don’t want to fuck up.

That’s sweet. A little weird, since they don’t really do the whole sentimental thing with each other, but it’s clear it means something to Zay. He clears his throat.

Zay: Well, don’t worry about hopping to LA, then. Your fun facts and trivia are going to kill this thing way before long distance ever would.

It’s true, distance makes no difference on whether he’s annoying or not. Farkle laughs, raising his hands in surrender. Then he grants Zay what he’s been asking for this whole time -- some actual quiet, leaving him be after thanking him again for the help.

Zay settles back in his chair, leisurely rotating his left ankle to keep it loose. Although he’s finally starting to wean off the habit, given how useless reception has been, he pulls his phone from his pocket and nonchalantly checks it anyway. Not expecting much.

So it’s a major shock to discover he has a notification in his email -- from Turner Academy. Even just from the message preview on his lock screen, he can see what it says.

Your portal status has been updated.

Zay jolts upright, cursing to himself. Heart suddenly pounding, his hands shake as he unlocks his phone and pulls up his web browser to log into the portal. He needs the wi-fi to hold together just long enough for him to look… but then he hesitates. Does he want to know? Is he ready to know? Is he prepared to face the consequences of whatever he finds out?

The hesitation only lasts a second. Yes, he’s ready -- he’s been ready. He’s ready for the torture to be over, to have closure either way. He clicks into the portal and selects the dropdown menu for application status, which has a notification bubble indicating it’s been updated.

It takes eons to load with the shitty internet. Zay holds his breath, watching the wheel in the center of the screen spin.

Then it loads. Zay takes a couple of seconds to read… and his expression shifts not to elation or devastation, but confusion. He reads the message again, then over again, even refreshing the page to make sure he’s not getting an error.

But the status displayed remains the same.

Additional Action Required. Please call the admissions office to learn about your admission status.

It takes a few more moments for that to properly sink in. Then Zay frowns.

Zay: What the everloving fuck --

EXT. LONDON HOTEL - DIVA ROOM - BALCONY - NIGHT

Maya is taking in the same scenery on the tiny balcony outside their room, though her expression is far more melancholy. She’s lost in thought, not even noticing when Farkle returns to the room.

He pokes his head out and greets her, leaning back against the doorframe. He asks if she’s okay, as she’s been uncharacteristically demure since they left Covent Garden. She brushes off his concern, claiming she’s just absorbing the spirit of the city before they go waste the next few days out in the middle of nowhere.

Farkle: I wouldn’t call Stratford or Liverpool the middle of nowhere.

Maya: To each their own.

She delivers it with her usual melodramatic snark, but Farkle is right that there’s a muted quality to it. The easy confidence isn’t quite as sharp as it usually is, and a seasoned veteran of Maya Hart can tell the difference.

Still, she assures him that she’s fine, so he lets it be. He suggests she not stay out photosynthesizing too long -- they’ve got an early start tomorrow as they head out of the city. She nods him along, waving off his concerns.

Farkle: By the way, I am seriously considering my choices. I’m going to give the LA opportunity all the thought it deserves. I promise.

Maya, delicately: I know. I know you are.

Farkle steps back inside, gently cracking the balcony door behind him. Maya watches him disappear into the bathroom nook, waiting until she’s alone again to let the facade crumble. She turns to face the city twinkling around her, confidence zapped entirely. It’s clear the words of the Garden performer really hit her, that they’re taking a toll she didn’t anticipate anything could.

Even with the best performing education money -- or scholarship -- can buy, could it still all be for nothing? Is it even worth it? And even more terrifying, is the dream even accessible at all, or is she destined to discover that she’s wasted the best years of her life chasing a passion that she’ll never be able to catch -- even with all the talent, drive, and preparation she can muster?

Could everything she believes in actually be totally, utterly empty?

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Where Is Love?” as performed by Oliver! London Palladium Cast || Performed by Maya Hart (starting at 2:25)

Acting as a reprise of sorts, Maya eases into her own rendition of the West End classic by singing through the final verse and chorus. But it’s a meek performance, timid in a way Maya never is, real fear and uncertainty cracking the notes in her delivery.

Becoming a star has been her driving force for as long as she can remember. If the dream isn’t real, then where is love?

INT. CHUBBIES - DAY

It seems a day trip to Albany and gate-crashing a graduation party are the fires that forge friendship, because Charlie and Lucas are hanging out again. They’re not doing much, Charlie writing thank you notes at the counter while Lucas goofs off during another slow shift, but they’re choosing to occupy the same space while they do, which is certainly not nothing.

That, and they seem remarkably at ease around one another for having only just really started talking. At least enough to do silly, dumb shit that boys find entertaining -- Lucas has built a catapult out of silverware, assuring Charlie that he’s got many hours of food-flinging expertise under his belt and he’s about to see a champion in action. This is very important, complicated Chubbies work at play. Then he picks a fry off Charlie’s half-finished plate and loads the catapult spoon with it, pausing for dramatic effect.

Lucas: Ready… ready… 3, 2 --

He hits the base of the spoon and sends the fry flying into the air, easily managing to catch it in his mouth. An expert champion indeed, clearly of very important matters. Charlie gives him a round of applause, Lucas holding his arms out in victory and giving a pseudo-bow.

Charlie: Wow. I see why they pay you the big bucks.

Lucas: Damn straight.

Lucas just starts to load the catapult up again when Jack pushes into the diner, spotting him and marching over. He seems a bit frazzled, a man on a mission, but there’s an excitement charging his movements. An almost youthful glow about him, eyes twinkling with a mischief you’d never see when he’s in the halls of Adams.

Lucas: Jack? What are you doing --

Jack: Good, you’re here. I was hoping you would be. [ noticing Charlie ] Oh, hi, Mister Gardner. You’re here too. That’s nice.

Charlie: Um, hi, Principal Hunter.

Lucas: Everything okay? You seem a little --

Jack: You want to go to London?

That stops Lucas in his tracks. His eyebrows shoot up, completely caught off guard.

Lucas: What?

Jack: I’m going to London. You want to come to London? Because if you want to go, we can go. I’m going.

Charlie, uncertain: Maybe I should go...

Jack: Oh, Charlie, you can come too. I’ve got an extra ticket. I was going to invite Shawn, but… you know, you’d actually probably appreciate it more.

Charlie: I -- um -- ?

Lucas, bluntly: Are you on crack?

He sure seems high on something all right. But no, Jack Hunter is one-hundred percent sober, and one-hundred percent serious. He’s cruising on the freedom of new beginnings, and he just might take the two of them along for the ride. 

Charlie: Principal Hunter, sir, I’m --

Jack: You can call me Jack, you know. You’re not my student anymore.

Charlie: … right. Well, Princi -- Jack -- you just said it. I don’t go to Adams anymore.

Jack: Yeah, well, you don’t go to Haverford anymore either, do you? So you’re not really anything, technically. And you know we had you for three years, which is more than enough in my book.

Lucas: I can’t go on the trip. I don’t have the money, remember?

Jack: As if most of your peers aren’t on the trip on their parents’ dime. And I’m here with a spare ticket -- it’s not a matter of “can” you, it’s a matter of “will” you. Obviously, no one has to go if they don’t want to, but that’s exactly my question.

A question that completely turned their worlds upside down. It’s truly crazy, how things can change in the blink of an eye -- one moment you’re wandering Los Angeles, you’re participating in a student protest, you’re signing thank-you cards and catapulting French fries, and in the next an opportunity comes knocking that could change everything.

The question is, do you answer the door? Do you take the leap?

Jack: So? Are we going, or what?

Charlie stares at Jack, dumbstruck, then shifts his gaze to Lucas. Are they? Lucas contemplates the offer… then he locks eyes with Jack.

The subtlest of smiles sneaks onto his face.

TO BE CONTINUED.

END OF EPISODE.

[iliketowrite1996]

The Nanny Chronicles part 1: Here for You

Disclaimer- I do not own any Marvel characters or their fictional worlds, countries, planets, etc.

OKAY, I haven’t written in a while and I am always open to constructive criticism.

‘’Akhona! Lindelwa! Let’s go, we’ve got to get you two to school on time!’’

‘’Coming!,’’ you hear the ten-year-old boy, Akohna, call down the stairs as you listen to him move about on the third floor of the home, gathering the necessary materials for another day of learning.

As you finish packing the lunches, you hear the rhythmic thump… thump… thump of Lindelwa, the six-year-old, coming down the stairs, sliding down each step while she holds onto the banister. 

Akhona and Lindelwa are the son and daughter, respectively, of T’Challa Udaku.  Right after you graduated college, you began applying for jobs. One of your friends, who is a nanny for Tony and Pepper Stark, told Mr. Udaku about you. A quick interview later, and you were in. While you do hope to move to a classroom and become an elementary teacher one day, this isn't so bad for now. The kids are pretty well behaved, the pay is good, and Mr. Udaku is a lovely person. 

You fondly roll your eyes before zipping her plastic, zebra-print lunch box, making sure that all of its content- her rice, chicken, juice and fruit- are intact before you do. 

‘’I’m ready!.’’ she enters the kitchen, beaming up at you, showcasing where she lost a tooth just last week.

‘’I see!.’’ you motion for her to lift her leg, allowing for you to tie her shoe before she straightens up, letting you observe her in her school clothes.

‘’Does daddy know you’re wearing those socks,’’ you glance down at the brightly colored socks, with cats printed all over them.

‘’Mhm!,’’ she looks proudly at her ensemble, before grinning back up at you.

‘’Well, if it’s alright with daddy, it’s alright with me,’’ you concede, handing the young girl her lunch box, ‘’Is your brother ready?’’

She nods enthusiastically, just as her brother rounds the corner into the kitchen.

‘’I’m ready to go,’’ he takes his lunch box from you, ‘’Are you taking us, or are we riding the bus?’’

‘’I can take you guys if you want, but we’ve got to get going. I’ve got to stop by the store anyway.’’

The two children follow you out of the house, waiting for you to lock up the house before the three of you head to the car. 

As soon as you pull up to the elementary school, you turn and look at the two of them.

‘’Akhona, I’ll pick you up from soccer practice at 5:00 sharp. Be ready to go on time- your dad invited your grandparents over for dinner this evening.’’

‘’Alright,’’ he nods, unbuckling his seat belt, ‘’Is N’Jadaka going to be there too?’’

‘’I’m not sure,’’ you admit, ‘’We’ll see.’’

He gives you thumbs up, sliding out of your minivan.

‘’Lindelwa,’’ you turn to the first grader, ‘’You’ll be coming home with Wanda and Meghan today. Make sure you get your rain boots out of your cubby today, alright?’’

‘’Yes, ma’am,’’ she gives you a thumbs up before sliding out of the van, taking her brother’s hand as he guides her into the building, ready to take her to Ms. Stormy’s class. 

As soon as the children are in the building,you pull away from the curb, heading to the grocery store. 

Ever since moving to New York 3 and a half years ago, you have gotten used to the city. NYU has become your home away from home, in a sense,and you can’t imagine going to college anywhere else. Now that you’re a senior, you can say that you definitely feel a sense of familiarity with your surroundings. You have your favorite spots to go, and your spots where you take the children on their days off from school. Spending time at the park, the grocery store, and the laundromat is nothing new to you. You’ve come to think of this city as your home almost as much as you think of Texas, your home state, as home. 

As you move up and down the aisles, collecting items for the week, you barely notice someone calling your name. 

‘’I’ve been calling you since aisle six,’’ Wanda, your neighbor, speaks up, glazing up at the store sign that indicates that you are clearly in aisle ten.

‘’Girl,’’ I’m sorry you shrug, placing your shopping list back into your bag, ‘’I’ve been in my own little world.’’

‘’I can only imagine. I haven’t seen you around much lately,’’ she picks up a bag of sugar, surveying it for any tears before placing it in her shopping cart, ‘’And Pietro has been asking about you.’’

You roll your eyes fondly at the mention of her beloved twin brother Pietro. He, like you, attends NYU. While you finished obtaining a degree in education last semester, he is about to finish nursing school. You met Wanda when you were put together as roommates your freshman year, and Pietro and your friendship is a result of yours and Wanda’s. 

Wanda, who had spent a semester at community college previously, was stuck deciding between law and education, finally deciding on the latter. Because of this, you two spent almost every semester in almost all of the time that you’ve spent in college. Now, she lives only three doors down from you in her shoebox apartment, sharing with Pietro like, like you live in your equally small apartment with your roommates- your cousin MJ and one of her friends, a girl who is a science major at NYU. 

‘’Tell Pietro that I am equally flattered and horrified,’’ you joke, stooping to pick up a bag of flour, ‘’How is he, anyway?’’

‘’I hardly ever see him. He’s always studying at the library or out doing something for class,’’ she shrugs, ‘’Anyway, a few of us are getting together this weekend. Some of the people from our program, Pietro and some of his buddies. We’re hanging out at the apartment.’’

‘’Oh, I’d better make sure I don’t work Saturday but I should be up for it, ‘’ you respond, running through your schedule in your head.

‘’Come on!  I know you’re busy, but we haven’t seen you, except for in passing, in months!.’’

‘’Okay, okay,’’ you laugh, ‘’I promise that I’ll try to make it, Wanda. Bye..’’

With a final ‘’Good-bye’’, she walks away, heading for the checkout and leaving you to finish grocery shopping on your own.

.

Ever since you started nannying for Lindelwa and Akhona, you haven’t had much of a social life. You take care of them five days a week, and usually spend the weekends catching up on errands and relaxing. On the off chance that BOTH of their parents work on Saturday, you’re with them even more than you usually are. It would be nice to spend some time with your  friends, take your mind off of all of your responsibilities for once.

This thought resurfaces as you arrive back at the Udaku residence, and are putting the groceries away. It stays with you until a deep voice brings you out of your own train of thought, snapping you back to the moment.

It’s none other than T’Challa Udaku, your boss, standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

‘’Oh. Good morning, Mr. Udaku. I didn’t know you’d be home early.’’

‘’Good morning to you, too. I just stopped by to get some papers that I left on my desk this morning. Thank you for being so willing to come in early this morning. I’ve got a big court trial coming up, and I desperately needed to be there early this morning to go over things with my partner.’’

,‘’It’s fine,’’ you shrug tucking a freshly done rbeaid behind your ear, ‘’I mean, this is my job.’’

‘’Be that as it may, you do a fantastic job of it. The kids love you,’’’ he grins, and you’d be a liar if you said that his smile didn’t make butterflies come to your stomach.

Mr. Udaku is attractive, that’s for sure. He’s about ten years your senior, but he’s a handsome man. Not that you’d ever say that to him. It’d be very unprofessional, and one hundred percent embarrassing, in your eyes.

Still, you see nothing wrong with silently admiring his good looks while you’re in a conversation with him.

‘’Well, thank you. I love them, too,’’ you comment sincerely., ‘’I got what you need for dinner tonight- everything for the scampi, salads, and bread rolls. Did you want me to go ahead and get started? The starks family will drop Lindelwa off, and I can pick Akhona up from the school when he’s done with soccer practice.’’

‘’Since it is on my way home, I will get him. I really appreciate you doing this. Lindelwa has been raving about your chicken scampi ever since you made it that night you stayed over with them, Will you be joining us for dinner?’’

It’s nothing, and you know it., He is simply extending kindness. However, you’d be remiss not to note the fact that it makes heat rush to your cheeks, and you’re a bit eager to accept it.

‘’I think I could swing that,’’ you nod, mentally nothing to add more pieces of chicken to the dish.

‘’Great. Please set eight spots as.’’

‘’Oh, is N’Jadaka joining us tonight?’’

‘’No, but my partner will. I’d better get going to the office. I’ll see you later on tonight.’’’ ‘

‘’Okay, Mr. Udaku. See you then.’’

He gives one last grin before exiting, and you wait until you hear the door close behind him before you smile to yourself.

 Okay, so you’re not expecting it to go anywhere. But if you’re gonna have a crush, is he  really so bad to have a crush on? And it’s all simple, all innocent, and none of it going anywhere. Little do you know, a series of events is about to unfold that will test your relationship,with T’Challa,  so to speak.

And this invitation to dinner is only the beginning.

@ashanti-notthesinger @destinio1 @afraiddreamingandloving @airis-paris14 @syreanne @chaneajoyyy @90sinspiredgirl @shemiahsmelanin @zillmonger @skysynclair19 @marvelpotterlove @constantlycravingtheunknown @imaginewhoever @wakanda-inspired @pocmarvelworks @theunsweetenedtruth @dreampovx @adrioola21 @supremethunda @thisiskayesworld @mcusocialimagines @priya212  @kumkaniudaku  @airis-paris14 @alexundefined @fonville-designs  @dramaqueenamby  @mellowjellow6 @oceanscorazon @nerd-lovely @fonville-designs @akimi-youngblood @yoyolovesbucky @fd-writes @areubeingserved-too @areubeingserved @thisbrokencapulet@squeackygee @melidris1  @honeydew-melanin

DISCLAIMER- I own no rights to any Marvel characters, countries,  galaxies, planets, etc.

[rosy-wooyoung]

[14:27]

You had become a regular visitor to Yunho’s flower shop since you started visiting your sick grandfather at the hospital, always picking yellow tulips for him. 

This love for yellow tulips started when you were still a toddler and visited your grandparents with your family for Easter. Your parents were too engaged in a conversation with your grandmother to notice you walking out of the room where you were all eating. You were 5 years old at that time, and you dared to adventure yourself on your own, in the beautiful garden that your grandmother took great care of. You noticed yellow tulips and, finding them really attractive, you picked up some and walked back in the room, proudly showing your parents your discoveries. When you showed them to your grandfather, his wife became livid and asked you where you found them. You proudly said: “in the garden behind the house. They’re so pretty!” Your grandfather loudly laughed whereas your mother tried to calm hers by guaranteeing her that she’ll buy bulbs to repay your foolishness. Since then, whenever you were visiting them, you gifted bulbs to your grandma and tulips to your grandfather, keeping this great memory alive.

“Welcome back to Flower’s Wonderland, Y/N, the usual yellow tulips?” Yunho said, recognising you, finishing an arrangement he was making. He cleared some fallen petals from the counter, smiling, but it quickly faded when he noticed the glossy eyes replacing your normally bubbly ones. “No, not today.” You sadly smiled and looked at the ground, trying not breaking down in the middle of the small shop. You deeply breathed and looked back at Yunho, who seemed genuinely worried about you. “I’d like a bouquet of white chrysanthemum, please.” 

The young man dropped his scissors, the meaning of those flowers hitting him. Mourning flowers. The type of flowers you put on a grave because they resist well at the cold. Yunho’s heart shattered but nodded, feeling bad for your loss. He silently prepared your bouquet, glancing from time to time towards you. You were observing the flowers around you, your fingertips delicately brushing against some petals, your eyes glistening with tears. The florist could clearly see that you were trying to distract yourself from your loss, but it didn’t seem to work. You looked lost in thought and Yunho couldn’t help but wanted to hug you and reassure you. You were so dedicated and close to your grandfather that it hurt the florist’s heart as much as if he had lost his own grandad. He handed you the bouquet, your shaky hand delicately grabbing it. You handed him a 20-dollar bill, but he refused it, making you frown.

“No, keep it. It’s on me, don’t worry.” “What? Are you sure?” Your reddened eyes slightly widened but retracted the bill anyway. “Yeah...I just… I don’t feel like making you pay today. Keep it to drink or eat something instead.” “Well, thanks Yunho. Thank you so much.” You said in a whisper, scared that if you spoke too loudly your voice would break. “It’s alright Y/N.” You both stood in front of each other, the shop was quiet, your breaths were the only sound in the shop along with the background music. You cleared your throat and weakly smiled at him, walking back towards the exit. “Wait!” Yunho suddenly exclaimed, making you turn around, frowning. “I know we’re not that close, but would you mind if I came with you?” Your frown disappeared at his words, blinking several times to process what he’s just said. “Ugh, sure...” Yunho gently smiled and took off his apron, carelessly tossing it somewhere. “Seonghwa! I’ll be gone for a while!” he warned his co-worker who was working in the back office. The other man answered by a hum and you two were out of the shop. Yunho wrapped his arm around your shoulders, surprising you, but you relaxed when his thumb rubbed circles on your skin, a gesture bringing you nothing but comfort. 

On the journey to the cemetery, you could tell that Yunho was being gentle with the way he was conversing with you. You appreciated his tenderness and the simplicity of his questions, bringing you at ease. Even if you’ve only spoken to him a few times, you felt like he was truly there for you. A lump rose in your throat as the cemetery appeared in sight, the sadness hitting you back like a boomerang. Yunho grabbed your hand and squeezed it, a gesture to give you strength. You inhaled deeply as you got out of the bus, holding the bouquet tightly against your chest. This place sent shivers down your spine, but you were ready to brave everything to come and talk to your grandfather. As you arrived in front of the grave, your vision went blurry and you felt a hand rubbing your back up and down. Once you let a sob escape your mouth, everything went downhill. Your sobs turned into loud cries, struggling to see where you were putting the flowers on the grave. The young boy hated seeing someone cry, his heart hurting as he fought the urge to join you in your tears. You looked so heartbroken and defeated that he couldn’t help but opened his arms for you to find refuge in them. When you visited the shop, your eyes were always full of life, happiness and your cheeks were red as you got to chat with him. Seeing you this weak made Yunho’s own eyes turn glossy, arms tightly wrapped around your sobbing from, rocking you back and forth as he tries his best to comfort you.

“Don’t worry, Y/N, he’s watching you from up there, now. He is still there with you, in your heart. He is so proud of all the things you’ve accomplished, I’m sure he was never disappointed in you. From middle school through high school and now college, I’m sure that he is proud of what his beautiful and smart granddaughter has become, just as on the personal side as the professional one. Even when you felt like everything you did wasn’t enough, he thought it was. You will heal soon Y/N, allow time to do its thing.” He cupped your tear-stained face to make you look at him. You thickly swallowed as you weakly nodded, your bloody eyes drowning in tears as Yunho placed your head on his shoulder. You soon calmed down, progressively getting emotionally numb, sniffling here and there, your heart still aching and deeply broken. Yunho handed you a tissue and kept you close to him. You were trembling due to all your cries and the shock of your loss, you didn’t move an inch when the florist rubbed the back of your head in a soothing manner, letting you breathe for a while against him, your head on his collarbone. 

“T-Thank you for coming with me…” your voice trailed as you looked at him, “you didn’t have to.” His gesture touched you, he wasn’t even your close friend, but his kindness was enough to let him come along. “I’m here for you Y/N. I’ll be here for you at any time of the day that you need me.” You let him hug you and rest his cheek on the top of your head as you sank into his embrace, his steady heart resonating in your ear, helping you calm your nerves down. Yunho was applying balm to your aching heart and you were thankful for him. He was everything you needed right now, and he ran along with it without saying anything. “Thank you, really,” you mumbled and closed your eyes, hoping to heal better and quicker with Yunho’s help. “Anytime, Y/N.”

[scullyverse]

Roses & Restraint: Chapter One

Dana Scully

Stella/Scully || multi-chapter || rating: E (Explicit)

Summary:

London, 1990. Stella Gibson and Dana Scully both enrol in University. Dana is lonely and insecure, Stella is distant and guarded, until they meet.

Notes:

This story is something that has been conceived and created through many months of brainstorming and endless conversations between me and my wonderful other half Lieke. This little universe has evolved into a life of its own and I can't wait to share it with everyone, finally! This story starts AU with Stella and Dana in University but will maintain heavily elements of both canon The X Files and The Fall later on in this series. I hope you all enjoy reading this as much we have had creating it together.

Also available to read on AO3

Dana

London, England

September 1990

Dana Katherine Scully had never felt lonely before. Growing up in a house full of siblings, she constantly found herself surrounded by noise and the warmth of having people close. She had always been connected with her mother and father, tolerated and even loved her two brothers and was especially close with her sister Melissa. So sitting alone on her new bed in an alien country surrounded by nothing but silence was certainly a different experience.

Tucking her legs up to her chest, Dana rested back against the headboard, looking around her new dorm room. It was fairly empty for the moment save for the essentials like some fresh bedsheets; her closet was open and half-filled with the clothes she had brought with her, and a stack of freshly shrink-wrapped textbooks resting in a neat pile on her desk. Her mother, Margaret, or Maggie as she liked to be called, was planning to take her out shopping later today for a few things to make the space feel more like home. But Dana knew it would probably never feel quite like home to her, this was just a space that she occupied for the time being.

Dana rested her hands on her knees, tilting her head to look outside of the window, seeing mostly brick from the dorm building next door, some leaves barely visible from the trees below. She had been so excited to get accepted into London University - as one of the only places that delved into Biophysics, it was at the top of her list of places to study because of their curriculum. And she was still excited, it was just a different feeling from imagining it to being here, and she suddenly felt very out of her depth. In just two days classes would start and she had never felt this underprepared for anything before in her life. Everyone else surrounding her would be older and have those extra years of life experience she just didn’t feel she had acquired yet.

Being academically brilliant she had skipped a few grades and was able to apply for college at only 16, much to her parents' delight and also uneasiness and worry. It seemed such a whirlwind of a year last year, applying to many different establishments, and finally getting accepted here. Her mother had flown her out at the beginning of the year for interviews and entrance exams to see if she would be a fit for the course she was applying for and if she was able to handle the caseload that would be expected of her. They had gladly invited her and seen her potential. So why don’t I feel that potential right now? Dana thought, her teeth gnawing on her bottom lip.

Things would be fine, her mother had told her so, and she was sure she was right, it was just hard to shake the feelings away when her head could think of nothing else. Letting out a sigh, Dana pushed herself off the bed and made her way towards the suitcase sitting in front of her closet, still filled with numerous things from home. Kneeling and rummaging through the items inside, she pulled out her worn copy of Moby Dick and put it on the floor next to her before grabbing the family picture from last Christmas and put it on her desk, angling it towards her bed. She wasn’t one for clutter, but she always kept a photo of her family in her room. Normally it was the only thing that rested on her desk besides books and stationery.

With the book in her hands, she made her way back towards her bed, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the dog-eared cover before she heard a soft knock. Turning towards her door, Dana quickly fixed herself up, adjusting her blue oversized shirt and brushing her frizzy hair away from her eyes with her free hand.

Dana pulled the door open and smiled warmly when she saw her mother standing in the hallway, a plastic shopping bag in her hands.

“I thought you could use some snacks for your room.” Maggie greeted her with a hug. “Maybe you could keep some in your desk drawer as you did at home, they even had your favourite,” Pausing, Maggie rummaged through the plastic and pulled out a bag of gummy bears. “-I was surprised to find them, but they were in the little supermarket down the street from the hotel.”

Dana stepped aside to let her mother into the room and shut the door softly. Taking the candy given to her with outreached hands, Dana put both the bag of gummy bears and her book down on her desk and stepped forward to wrap her arms around her mother’s waist, her chin just able to rest on her shoulder.

“Thanks, mum. But you didn’t have to do that.” Dana insisted.

“Of course I did, Dana. I know how much you love them.” Maggie replied, brushing her concern off with a smile.

Feeling Maggie’s arms wrap around her, holding her tight, Dana felt warm and secure as she closed her eyes. She would miss her mother’s hugs more than anything. Even though at times she couldn’t stand the way her mother coddled her, she would never get tired of her love. Taking a deep breath, Dana tried to get her emotions under control as she pulled away, looking up at Maggie with slight embarrassment.

“Sorry, I’m just feeling a bit overwhelmed.” Dana apologised, rubbing under her eyes.

“It’s okay sweetheart, you’re allowed to feel like this. Is it too much though? You know you can always come back with me and we can apply somewhere else.” Maggie reassured, placing a hand on Dana’s head and brushing down her hair before resting her hand on her cheek. “This is a big step and something I know I wouldn’t have been able to do at your age.”

“No mum, I want to do this. I’m fine, just a lot to take in for the first few days.” Dana answered, looking into her mother's eyes and giving her a slight smile as she leaned into the familiar hand against her cheek.

Stepping away, Dana peeked into the bag still in her mother’s hand to distract herself from the sour feeling in her stomach. Maggie watched for a moment before smiling as Dana took the bag from her mother’s hands and made her way towards her bed, tipping the contents onto the covers. Dana wasn’t a big fan of sweets, but she did tend to like the odd one here and there when she was studying, a habit she had picked up in her second year of high school. Dana’s eyes lit up when she saw a few more packets of her favourite gummy bears and some chocolate bars that she didn’t recognise, but sounded pretty delicious. She looked up at Maggie and gave her a grin before Maggie took a seat on her bed, picking up one of the chocolate bars.

“I wasn’t sure if this brand would taste good, but the cashier recommended it to me as something that seems to be quite popular here, so hopefully it tastes okay. Though I’m sure it’s not as sweet as the chocolate we’re accustomed to at home.” Maggie said as she gave the bar back to Dana.

Dana gathered the candy and put it back into the plastic bag to put it away somewhere later before she put her hands in her lap, fiddling with the bottom of her shirt. Dana looked up at her mother with slight nervousness as a silence hung between them before Dana felt a warm hand rest of her own.

“Come on sweetheart, let’s go have a look around the city. We still need to buy you some essentials. And I know you wouldn’t say no to a new outfit or two,” Maggie urged, a reassuring look on her face.

Chuckling, Dana got to her feet and walked to her closet to grab a pair of worn sneakers, slipped them on and then led Maggie out of her room, making sure to grab her keys and lock the door on the way out.

——♡——

Dana had only ever been to London once before, that time being earlier that year when her mother had brought her over to have some advisory meetings at the University. They hadn’t had time to stay longer than they needed as it clashed with school, so Dana hadn’t gotten the chance to explore the city she was going to call home for the next few years. Maggie was staying at a little hotel just outside of the city’s business district and over the last week, Dana had gotten used to the bus routes and timetables as she travelled between the hotel and the campus.

Taking her mother’s hand, Dana helped her off the bus and onto a busy street, filled with people making their way to work as it was rush hour in the morning. Dana had done a little exploring on her own the previous days but hadn’t had much of a chance to look at the storefronts like they planned on doing today. She hadn’t brought much with her, only her suitcase and the majority of space in her mother’s too, as Maggie had promised they would go and buy things once they were here as it would be easier that way. And that way her belongings would still be at home for when she came back to visit during the school breaks.

They spent their morning walking around the different streets and Dana ended up getting a spare bedsheet, some new towels as well as some toiletries from a little boutique store that was filled with soaps and hair products that smelt like roses, Dana’s favourite. Maggie insisted on buying her a new bag and a few new outfits that Dana had loved the look of as well as all the stationary she would need for the first semester. Dana would be left with a savings account that her mother and father would deposit money into every month so she could have an allowance until she got a job. Maggie urged that she shouldn’t hurry in finding work, that she should take a while to settle into her new schedule and that there would always be money there for emergencies. Dana wasn’t one to spend money frivolously, only planning on using it for the essentials like food, school supplies and accidentals.

Maggie had already taken her to the campus shop to purchase the textbooks she would need, which Dana had felt guilty for as both her Anthropology and Biophysics textbooks had ended up costing quite a bit. Maggie had just waved her off, not hesitating to pay, but Dana intended to keep them as pristine as she could in hopes she could get some money back for them at the end of her degree and repay her parents.

After almost a full day of shopping, they ended up walking past a bookstore on the way back to the bus stop and Dana proposed they have a look inside. Dana smiled when her mother went straight to the murder mystery section - it was the first stop she went to in every bookstore, while Dana headed for the general fiction section. Dana’s fingers brushed over the covers as she tilted her head, looking over the titles with interest. Reading was always a good escape for her and she would never turn down a novel where she could lose herself in the pages for a while.

Dana walked her way slowly up the aisle, before she reached the end and caught sight of a blonde crouched down in the literature section, pulling a book off the shelf with black polished nails. Dana watched her flick the book over before she brushed her short hair back, revealing a set of piercing blue eyes. The girl opened the book and read a few lines before she rose to her feet, turning and catching Dana’s gaze.

Dana gave a polite smile as the blonde walked towards her, tapping her fingers against the cover of whatever book she had grabbed from the shelf. Stepping back slightly, Dana made room for the girl to walk past her in the aisle, but she bumped into the shelf softly in the process. The blonde smirked at her clumsiness and Dana watched her walk around the corner and out of eyesight. Way to look like an idiot, Dana.

Turning back around, Dana resumed looking at the titles before she heard her name being called and saw her mother making her way towards her, a Joanne Harris novel in her hands. Maggie had always been a fan of the murder mysteries ever since Dana could remember so it was no surprise that she had found another book to add to her collection.

“Have you found anything you like sweetheart?” Maggie inquired.

Shaking her head, Dana closed the distance between them as she reached and took the book out of her mother's hand, flipping it over to give a quick read of the back before she made an impressed face.

“Sounds like a good one. Come on, let me get it for you as a thank you present for everything you have done for me this past week.” Dana said with a grateful smile.

Maggie began to protest, but Dana cut her off with a scowl.

“Mum, please. It’s the least I can do. Besides, it will give you something to read on the plane home tomorrow.”

Maggie sighed and relented as Dana walked towards the counter to pay for the book with some of the crinkled bills she had in her jeans pocket.

After the book was purchased and they made their way to the bus stop, Dana and Maggie juggled their bags of shopping into the dorm room and spent the rest of the afternoon organising everything and putting things into their new home. Dana was impressed with how comforting they managed to make it look, though it still didn’t feel like home and she was sure it wouldn’t ever have that feel to it.

Just as it started to get dark, Dana walked her mother back to the bus stop and hugged her, promising to meet her the following morning at her hotel so they could go to the airport together. Dana wasn’t looking forward to sending her mother home and being left alone, but she was sure the feelings would get better the longer she stayed there by herself. Missy had told her that it would be good for her to go out on her own and spread her wings. Dana wasn’t sure what that meant yet, but hopefully, that would come to her in time too.

Once the bus carried her mother out of sight, Dana let out a shaky breath. The sour feeling in her stomach was hitting her with full force and she had to swallow down a rise of bile in her throat. Loneliness wasn’t something that agreed with her just yet, it would seem. Turning on her heels, Dana tucked her hands into her pockets as she walked back towards her dorm room, suddenly not having the energy to smile politely at the people walking around her. She just wanted to retreat to her room and not have to worry about people seeing her cry.

——♡——

Most of the people had started to arrive in the other rooms on her floor, so she didn’t have the communal bathroom all to herself as she had hoped for. Wrapping a towel around herself, Dana ducked her head and avoided the other girls in the bathroom who were chatting in a thick northern English accent that Dana couldn’t quite understand.

Hugging the towel to herself, Dana grabbed her toiletry bag and quickly walked across the hall to her room before slipping inside, resting her wet hair against the door. She hadn’t thought about bringing a change of clothes with her as everyone else had, and she felt lucky that her room wasn’t far and there were no people in the hall for her to make a fool of herself in front of.

Taking the towel off her body, Dana walked towards the small set of drawers next to her bed, drying her hair roughly as she rummaged through the second drawer to find her pyjamas, which consisted of a large navy shirt of her father’s she had taken a few years ago and a pair of checkered shorts. She threw the wet towel onto the bed, got changed, and hung the towel on the hook behind her door.

Suddenly, she felt very small and the constant dull chatter from the other dorm rooms did nothing to settle her feelings of sadness. Dana stood for a moment, feeling her wet hair seep into the back of her shirt and a warmness fill her eyes. Shaking her head, she quickly blinked the tears away.

“You can do this. Come on, Starbuck. You can do this.” It was a mantra she spoke to the empty room that gave Dana a tiny flicker of courage, picturing her father’s warm face and soft eyes that he only ever showed to his family.

Dana looked at the red lights on her clock and sighed when they read 9:47 pm. It was still early, but her body was almost acclimated to the change in time zones enough for her to begin to feel tired. Grabbing her copy of Moby Dick off her desk, she turned off her ceiling light, leaving only the slight warm glow from the small lamp on her bedside table. Maybe she could read for a little bit to get her mind off things, it usually worked at home. Getting into bed, Dana put the blankets over her knees as she rested back against the headboard, reaching over to her bedside table to grab her glasses and slip them on before she opened her book to the page where she left off a few days ago.

But no matter how many times she read the same lines over and over again, nothing seemed to sink in enough for her to focus on the story. Her stomach was churning and it was starting to make her frustrated. Huffing, Dana threw the book to the floor, and watched as it tumbled on the rug before it fell with half the pages tucked under the cover and now folded. Taking off her glasses, Dana held them in her hand and gripped them tightly between her fingers. Maybe her mother was right. Maybe she should just go back home right now and just choose a university closer to home.

Pulling the blankets back, she placed her glasses back under her lamp before she walked over to pick up her book from the floor, pausing when her fingers touched a piece of white paper, a stark contrast to the worn yellowing pages of her book. Dana picked the book up and pulled the piece of paper out from in between the pages. She couldn’t remember leaving any notes in this book.

Dana opened the folded paper and sucked in a breath when she immediately noticed her sister’s handwriting, a mass of messy nearly illegible script. Dana put her book down on the bed as she sat down, quickly grabbing her glasses so she could read the words her sister had written to her.

To Dana,

I wrote this for you when you first told me where you planned to study. You have your heart set on it, I can see that stupid little sparkle in your eyes when you talk about it. But I also know how you can doubt yourself, how you can think you don’t deserve things you’ve achieved through all your hard work and dedication to the things you want. You don’t need to doubt yourself, I know you can do this. You are strong and can be so determined when you want to be, even if it gets you into trouble from time to time. Trust yourself, Dana. I’m your big sister and I will be here for you, even if you screw up. But you aren’t going to do that. It seems like you got all the brains in the family and all of us are always trying to catch up to you. I’m only a very expensive phone call away.

You can do this,

Missy

Dana held the letter in her shaky fingers, not able to see the words anymore from the blurriness of the tears behind her glasses. She took them off and put them on the bed to rub her eyes, wiping away the tears now threatening to fall down her cheek. She wasn’t sure how Missy knew she would need words of encouragement, but she had a way of always knowing Dana better than she knew herself.

Sniffling, Dana looked back down at the note in her hand with a smile, somehow feeling Missy sitting right next to her even though she was hundreds of miles away. She would have to remember to tell her mother to thank Missy for her when she got home. Folding the note in half again, Dana held it to her chest for a moment and let out a breath, less shaky than a few moments ago. Missy believed in her. That was something they didn’t really speak about. Her relationship with her sister meant more to Dana than anything. They fought like crazy sometimes, but they both loved each other fiercely. That would never change.

Grabbing her glasses once again she put them back on the nightstand before she got back into bed, the note in her hand as she situated herself under the covers. Leaning over, Dana switched off her lamp and the room flooded with darkness. It took her eyes a few moments to adjust to vaguely see the outlines of solid objects as she snuggled down, slipping the note under her pillow before resting her head down. She could feel her wet hair seeping into the material of the pillow, but Dana didn’t care.

Lying on her back, Dana looked up at the ceiling, the silence now becoming deafening. Closing her eyes, Dana rolled over on her side, curled up, and wished sleep would take her away for a few restful hours.

——♡——

Sleep didn’t come at all. Dana hated that. Once the light of the early morning started seeping through her closed blinds, Dana turned her head to look at the clock. 5:06 am. Her mother’s flight would leave in a few hours so Dana figured she would just head over to the hotel now and spend a few more hours with her mother before she left. She couldn’t bear to lay in bed a moment longer anyway.

Sitting up, Dana threw the blankets off her and got to her feet, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror she had fixated on her wardrobe door. Her hair was a mass of fluffy red curls and her eyes were red from the tears she had shed as well as the lack of sleep. Dana ran her fingers through her hair before grabbing her toiletry bag and heading to the toilets to both relieve herself and try to make herself somewhat presentable for the day.

Dana returned with her hair brushed but still fluffy and curly, unable to do much else and she didn’t have the energy to style it today. She would deal with that tomorrow when classes started. Dana picked one of the new outfits her mother had bought her; a knee-length black denim skirt, red flannelette shirt and black singlet top. Dana slipped on her black converse, slightly dirty from years of wear, before she grabbed her bag and put in the essentials: wallet, book and a bag of gummy bears from her drawer. Something was telling her she might need the pick me up later when she eventually crashed from lack of sleep, and she was anticipating the final separation from her mother was going to be something that would knock her around too.

It took Dana a short walk in the brisk early morning air under the faint glow of the streetlights and a 15-minute bus ride to reach the hotel. Dana paused in the reception area, looking at the large clock on the wall. It wasn’t even 6 am yet. She knew her mother was an early bird, but maybe she should wait a little while longer before disturbing her.

Sitting down on one of the small lounge chairs in the lobby, Dana reached into her bag and pulled out her book. Crossing her legs, Dana opened the book and began to read, her eyes flicking up every couple of minutes to the clock. She would read for another hour or so and then make her way up to her mother’s room. They served breakfast around that time so Dana was sure she would be up before then.

The lobby had slowly begun to fill with the bustle of people over the next hour and Dana had put her book away in favour of people watching. Maggie had picked this hotel because of it being so central to London’s business district and now Dana understood that it was favoured by businessmen and women for the same reason. There was a steady flow of people dressed for work leaving and arriving and by the time the clock hit 7 am the lobby chairs had been filled with people drinking coffee and reading the morning papers. Dana smiled slightly at the nice old lady sitting next to her and grabbed her bag, slinging it over her shoulder and walking towards the elevators.

Stopping in front of her mother's room, Dana pulled her bag tighter onto her shoulder and raised her hand to knock a few times on the wood. It took only a few moments before Maggie opened the door, her hair sitting perfectly on her shoulders and the slight makeup on her face making her appear years younger. Maggie’s eyes went from happy to worried in a matter of seconds as she took in the rough appearance of her daughter.

“Dana, you’re here early…” Pausing, she reached for Dana, resting her hands on her upper arm, giving it a slight squeeze. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, mum, just a bit of a rough night that’s all. I was up so I thought I would come over a little earlier and spend some time with you before we have to leave for the airport.” Dana gave her a small smile as she rested her hand on her mother’s arm, rubbing it gently.

Maggie let her daughter into the room and shut the door as Dana flopped onto the neatly made bed, letting her bag fall to her feet. It was amazing how efficient her mother was, it was like no one had stayed in the room at all. Looking around, Dana saw how the room was spotless, all traces of her mother tucked away into the suitcase resting next to her on the bed, all except for her handbag resting on the chest of drawers closest to the door.

“When’s your flight again?” Dana asked, her voice soft.

Maggie grabbed her bag and walked over to Dana, removing the suitcase off the bed and making room for herself to sit down next to her daughter. Rummaging inside, she pulled out her boarding pass, handing it to Dana. Looking down at the ticket in her hand, Dana’s fingers ran over the time.

“10 am boarding time… 9 arrival time. So we don’t have too long then, huh?” Dana stated, giving the ticket back to her mother with sad eyes.

The tight feeling in her stomach that had been bothering her all morning was getting worse as the seconds ticked by. She wasn’t sure what she would do without her mother there with her. Even though she was staying across town, she was still within reach. But soon, she wouldn’t be. Maggie would soon be on a plane back home to the US and Dana would be rooted there, alone. She was getting tired of crying, but she could feel herself getting hot in the cheeks as she turned her head.

Maggie reached under Dana’s chin, turning her head back to look into her eyes. The moment Dana’s eyes met the soft warm eyes of her mother, she broke. Her bottom lip trembled as Maggie pulled her close, wrapping her arms protectively around the small child in her arms. Because in this moment that was how Dana felt. Like a child. And in some instances maybe she still was.

Sobbing, Dana buried her face into Maggie’s chest, enveloping herself in the familiar scent of jasmine and home. Maggie said nothing, just held her tightly, her hand coming up to rest on the back of Dana’s head, brushing her hair soothingly. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go, she needed to be strong like Missy had told her to be and spread her wings on her own. But it was so hard to have to eliminate the comfort only her mother could give her.

Dana wasn’t sure how long she stayed in her mother’s arms after she had stopped crying, but the gentle encouragement of Maggie’s arms guiding her away and saying, “Sweetheart, we need to get going,” told her that it must have been close to an hour.

Pulling out of Maggie’s embrace, Dana wiped her eyes and tucked her fly away hair behind her ears. Nodding silently, she got to her feet and helped her mother up off the bed too, out of courtesy more than necessity. Maggie gathered her handbag and boarding ticket as Dana put her bag back over her shoulder before reaching down to pull up the handle of Maggie’s suitcase. Maggie objected but Dana brushed her away with a small smile, her lips dry from the previous hour crying against her mother’s chest. Gathering the fragments of courage inside, she tried to stand a little taller than she felt.

“It’s the least I can do, mum. Come on, let’s go.”

[statticscribbles]

Can I Have This Dance

Summary: Justin Foley/Reader; Can I have this Dance, High School Musical

Justin had always been there for you. Even when he’d left, you’d find the occasional text message from an unknown number. When Clay had told you that he’d brought him back home, to stay you weren’t sure if you should tell him that Justin was sort of letting himself be found.

He’s healing, it’s slow but you know you’ll always be there for him and you’re both refusing to give up on each other.

“Hey, it’ll be okay.” You mumble to him your hand intertwined with his and he sighs nodding stepping into the hospital doors. One of the doctors that had given him a check-up, after Clay’s parents had officially adopted him, had called back asking him to come in for some more tests. He hadn’t told you what they were for. Just that he needed to get them, and couldn’t bear to go alone.

Justin’s a little teary-eyed, he’d been this way ever since he’d gotten back from the doctors. You hadn’t said anything to Clay or his parents, just nervously folding and unfolding the papers he’d gotten. You’d mumbled that he needed to tell them, that they needed to know to help him and he’d just shaken his head grumbling that he can’t make them spend that much money on him. You counter with the fact they’d rather have to pay for anti-viral meds instead of a coffin.

He asks you to prom right after you say that and you make a joke about him trying to get a sympathy date.

“It’s serious Y/N!” He pouts and you nod wrapping your hands around him.

“I will, if you tell them.”

“Well I was already going to do that so…”He looks nervously at the ground.

“I’ll be there if you want?”

Justin can’t stop smiling when he sees you on the stairs.

“I can’t believe Clay just walked you past me with his hands over his eyes like a five year old.” You laugh and Justin just shrugs a little face pink.

“You’re beautiful.”

“It’s just a prom dress.”

“Mhm, but it’s you.”

You offer him out your hand and he walks you into the prom grinning just like he had when he saw you on the stairs.

“You’re ridiculous.” You laugh at him and he nods back.

“I know, ridiculously in love with you….” He laughs a little before leaning in to kiss you.

Much to the boredom of most everyone at prom the worst that happens is a few of the footballers who rented a party bus get turned away when someone on board rats out they were doing coke; beyond that nothing exciting happens at prom beyond you and Justin sneaking off early to order pizza and fall asleep on the couch in the Jensen house.

“So college is starting soon.” Justin sounds nervous and you know he’s referring to him starting at the community college, you still hadn’t told him where you were going; he assumed you’d gotten into the only college out of state you’d applied too, it was the only one that offered you a full scholarship, and after having spend all summer and weekends working at Monet’s with Justin, once he had gotten his job back. You blink from where you’ve been staring into the breakfast he’d made you.

“Yeah, you start on Tuesday right?”

“Yeah…And you? When do you leave?” His voice waivers and you arch an eyebrow at him.

“Leave?”

“For that fancy college in new york..”

“When did I tell you that?” His face falls at your question.

“Just now.” He huffs and you try not to roll your eyes.

“Justin, come on, seriously?” You nudge him as he sits in the car almost glaring at the college in front of him.

“If you don’t hurry up we’re going to be late. I still have to park.” You grin waving the parking plaque in his face.

“We?”

“Yeah; I’m getting my general credits out of the way..” You don’t finish Justin pulling you over to his side of the car and holding you.

“Come on then, we can’t be late for English!’ He grins offering out his hand.

Support My Writing?

[kylo-hen]

Physical Education

A/N: This is my first fic I’ve ever published please be gentle lmao. Feedback is welcome though, I have no clue what I’m doing and it shows. 

Clyde Logan & Sadie’s Teacher!Reader

Warnings: None I can think of other than probable grammatical error and fluff

Summary: Sadie decides to bring her Uncle Clyde to career day and he hits it off with her teacher. 

Physical education

      Teaching is not a learned skill. It’s not taught like math or science, and it’s not something you can take as an extra-curricular in high school. Yes, you can get better over time and with practice but sometimes it just comes down to whether or not you have the gift. Patience.

     When I was younger, I used to wait in line at the bus stop dutifully like my mama taught me, hair tied up in an updo that probably took mama way too long to do in the ungodly hours of six am. She used her steady practiced hands to guide my hair into the place she wanted, and that’s when I learned I came from patient people. She would listen to my stories with rapt attention, nodding when needed, and interjecting her own wisdom only when she knew it was right. She was the most patient woman in the world and I learned everything I knew about teaching from her.

    When she passed, I knew she just wanted me to be happy, she never pushed me to be anything less than that. She waited out all the phases, the trials and errors of my college years, the rough patch of rebellion in high school, and even the short time after college when I had refused to do anything but take care of her in her final months of life. She urged me to go and work more than part time at big earl’s dinner down the road, she urged me to use my gift.

     After she was gone, the funeral was finished, and the casserole pans returned to the PTA moms who lent them, there wasn’t much tethering me to the once special town that I lived. The memories there were more bitter than sweet and I couldn’t bring myself to stay. So, when the time was right and the dust settled, I applied to teach in all parts and I promised the first job that gave me a green light would be the one to take. That’s what got me to where I am today, a third-grade teacher in Boone County, West Virginia.

    I enjoy teaching third grade; they have such big hearts and rarely ever is there an issue of behavior more than an over-excited kid in class. They look at the world so with wonder in every instance and my job is to facilitate that growth. This being my first year at Boone County Elementary school came with a rather big learning curve, with everyone knowing everyone else in town it was hard to break into the system the town had somehow set up. There was an unspoken understanding of respect and honor to some, not that those always earned it, and that others were destined to repeat the past.

    Sadie Logan was one of those poor souls labeled with a curse of some kind. The kids in her class mentioned it at all given occasions when Sadie proved herself smarter and stronger than them. Sadie was smart as whip, funny as all get out, and had a big heart full of love for the people in her life. She sat with me in my room before class and I taught her all sorts of things from checkers, to long division. When the spring came around so did the third-grade class’s career day, which Sadie’s usual excitement for school seemed to double.

     The morning after the day was announced and the forms were sent home, Sadie came bursting into my room with her usual intense excitement, “Miss L/N!” she called out.

    “Is that Miss Sadie Logan already?” I teased while she hung her backpack on her hook that lined the wall opposite of the board, “I could have sworn It was too early to have a monkey in class!” She flipped around with a loud laugh and a piece of paper in her hand.

    “I’m not a monkey, Miss L/N!” she approached my desk proudly, “I gotta question ‘bout career day though!” She swayed back and forth as she waited for me to respond.

    “Alright then Miss Sadie, shoot.”

     “Well, I told my mama ‘bout it and she wanted Moody-” at the mention of his name I felt my skin start to crawl. He wasn’t my favorite parent having already disrespected me on meet the teacher night back in October. His wandering eyes and condescending attitude made me want to cry by the end of the night. I just hoped he wouldn’t rub off on sweet little Sadie.

     “- to do it, but Moody said he can’t just stop workin’ for some stupid fair!” She sighed exasperatedly like he had personally offended her, which I’m sure he did, “which is st- it’s silly, Miss L/N! So, when my Daddy came by to pick me up for ice cream, I asked him!” she grinned ear to ear, I hadn’t met her father but Sadie spoke so highly of him I couldn’t imagine him to be anything less than a proper gentleman.

    “So, your daddy’s gonna’ be the one comin’ in?” I asked softly, after she paused taking a big breath.

     “Well, not quite! I talked to my daddy and he can’t because he’s gonna be workin in the mines that day and he don’t have enough time off to be able to come!” I frowned at her words, I was really hoping to have her father come so I could tell him how great Sadie was in and out of class. I also know how happy she would be to have her dad there to sit with her at lunch and tell stories and play with her at recess. “But don’t worry! He came up with an even better plan, but I gotta’ ask your permission first!” She beamed up at me in the thought of her plan.

    “Now what did your daddy think up for ya’?” I asked, excited to hear more of the shenanigans he had planned for the two of them.

    “Since he couldn’t come and Moody couldn’t either! And mama don’t have a job!” I gave her a look, telling her to respect her mama whether she had a job or not. “what? S’not mean if I’m just bein’ honest Miss. L/N!” She defended herself.

     “I know that Sadie, but it’s your tone a’ voice.” I spoke softly to the girl, “Your mama works hard to make sure you’re happy and healthy and that’s very important.” I explained and she seemed to take a moment to let the words sink in. “So, if your daddy can’t come and neither can Moody, and you don’t want your mama to come, then who’s comin’ in for ya?” I asked putting the girl back on track.

    “Well, My Uncle Clyde said he could do it!” She bounced excitedly, “And he’s real cool too! He was in the army and now he has one arm and he’s super tall and sometimes he puts me on his shoulders and walks me around and I can touch the clouds!” She rambled on about her uncle excitedly. Sadie had mentioned her uncle Clyde in passing, she knew he was a veteran, that he liked goin’ with Sadie and her dad to the fair, and now that he was super tall. A warm glow in my heart began to bloom at the idea of meeting someone from her dad’s side of the family. Sadie was such a good kid that the side of the family must be a good one.

    “That sounds like a great plan! What do you need to ask permission for?”

     “Well, my mama said that since he wasn’t my… legal guardian I had to ask.” She spoke like her mama made her rehearse it before dropping her off this morning. “So, is it alright if my uncle comes instead?” She pleaded with me.

     “That’s just fine with me Miss Sadie.” I spoke, taking her slip from her to sign off on the change of plans, as I finished my signature the bell rang and with it the rest of the class began to filter their way into the classroom. “Why don’t you put this in your take home folder and find your seat before we start the pledge?” I smiled down at her and she beamed back before heading to her desk. With Sadie in her seat and the rest of the class milling about, the day began.

    Career day came around quicker than I’d have liked. I had pushed of decorating until the morning of, which I’m currently regretting as I stand on a chair desperately trying to pin up the second half of the banner, I had made last week. I had already hung some streamers, set up extra seats, and re-arranged the desks so they’re in a semi-circle. I also lugged my old card table from my garage for the refreshments the parents were bringing.

    With not much time left before class I found the second half of the banner was going to be a bigger stretch than I was anticipating. Beads of sweat began to collect on my forehead, I thanked all that was holy I had extra deodorant in my desk just in case.

     If I stretched just a couple inches further the banner would be perfectly taught, as I pushed one last time to secure it, I heard the door open behind me.

     “Miss L/N!” Sadie shrieked in excitement, bounding into the class, unfortunately for me when I tried to swivel to greet her, I miscalculated the end of the chair. Once I was about halfway facing the girl my foot began to slip, and I braced myself for the impact of the floor beneath me.

    Instead of the floor meeting my impact I was embraced by a solid chest and the aroma of deep pine, leather, and a smokey bonfire. I felt the firm arm that circled my waste, it was warm and sturdy like my mother’s hands in my hair when I grew up, or my grandfather when he would come by to fix stuff around the house before he died. The feeling was like waking up on Sunday and it smelled like the first feeling of fall. When I opened my eyes, it was even more enchanting.

     When Sadie mentioned her Uncle Clyde, she should have said he was younger than her father. She also could have warned her how attractive he is. No, that would have been weird. Clyde looked down at me with concern in his whiskey colored eyes, a deep furrow in his brow, and I couldn’t help the heat that crept up from my spine into my chest and face. The awkward shame of being a complete clutz in front of this incredibly attractive man.

      “You alright ma’am?” He asked in a soft voice, oh god his voice, that only made me want to hide under my desk than confront the fact I’ve made an absolute fool of myself.

      “Yes,” I stammered out, re-gaining my upright footing on the ground and straightening out my clothes only to realize the man standing in front of me is well over six feet tall. I stared up at him with wide eyes before I realized he was waiting for me to say something, “I’m so sorry, Mr. Logan this isn’t how I expected to meet anyone today,” I looked around to make sure no one else was here but Sadie, “My name is-“

      “Miss L/N,” He finished for me with a small polite smile, “Sadie talks ‘bout you a lot, she loves your class.” He compliments and I felt my heart grow at the praise.

      “Well, I love having Sadie In my class, she’s a bright lady, and please, call me y/n,” I clarified, which wasn’t something I was planning on doing with parents, but he wasn’t Sadie’s guardian.

    “Well then, y/n, you can call me Clyde,” He extended his arm to shake and I took it happily. “Do you want me to hold the chair while you finish up with the banner? It’s too nice to be hangin’ from one side.” He complimented again which was sending shockwaves of joy through my veins.

     “That would be really helpful Clyde, thank you.” I replied, carefully stepping up to the chair and grabbing the end of the banner. With the steady help of Clyde, hanging the banner was a breeze. Once it was set and I stepped off the chair, with another helpful hand from Clyde, I was able to breathe fully.

    Sadie, who had been sitting in the back corner of the room I had set up for a comfortable reading center, popped up. “Uncle Clyde, what’d you pack for lunch?” She was dead set on the odd question.

    “Aunt Mellie packed us the same lunch Sadie bug, so I reckon’ I’ll have what you’re havin’.” He spoke in few words but I hung onto each as if they would be the last he ever spoke in front of me.

    “Miss L/n?” she turned her attention to me, “Are ya’ gonna eat lunch with Uncle Clyde and me?” She spoke, sometimes on special days teachers sit with their students at lunch, but today was not one of those days.

    “Not today Sadie, I’ve got to stay in here and guard the room from the hallway trolls!” I exaggerated for her delight. She giggled and when I looked up, I saw Clyde had a soft endearing smile on his face that made me want to jump head first into him.

    “We oughta’ leave her to that for lunch huh Sadie bug?” Clyde offered and Sadie nodded earnestly plopping back down in the corner to finish her book. Clyde looked back at me bashfully, like I had caught him in a private moment.

    “It’s real sweet for you to be here today.” I started as I walked to the refreshment table, “Would you like a coffee?” I offered him. When I turned back, he snapped out of the daze he was In and nodded silently as I poured him a cup into a cheap Styrofoam cup. “I don’t know many uncle’s who would step up like this. Cream?”

    “Erm- no. No, thank you.” He stammered and I handed him the cup, “Us Logan’s tend to be a tight knit bunch.” He affirmed my beliefs.

     “That sounds nice.” I hummed, sipping my own coffee from earlier.

    “That’s what families do.” He stated, underplaying the significance of his situation.

    “Not all families,” I murmured mostly to myself.

    “Hm?” He asked for clarification, I hadn’t even realized he heard me.

     “Oh! Nothing, sorry, I was talking to myself really.” I felt the embarrassment rise in me again. When I looked up at him to say something the bell rang. “Well, hope you enjoyed the quiet, I doubt you’ll be gettin’ any more of that here.” As if proving my point, the class, and their respective parents filed in for the start of the day.

    The whole morning was filled, one by one people explaining their job, how they got it, why they like it, and what the best thing about their job is. That’s followed by a series of questions from the students which almost never have anything to really do with their job.

    Clyde was the last to go, explaining how he was in the army, why he joined the fight, he told a story about one of his friends he met in Iraq and that he’s a bartender now. After a couple minutes of explaining what a bartender is, and what he does now that he’s not in the army, the kids finally asked about his hand. I expected him to get a little agitated maybe, or shy, but really, he took the questions in a stride.

    “How do you pee with one hand?” one of the kids questioned, his mother immediately blushing out of the second-hand embarrassment, but before Clyde could answer or the mother could reprimand him, I interrupted.

    “Mr. Bradley, you know better than that sir.” I began softly, “Remember last week we talked about boundaries, well you’ve gotta apologize for breakin’ Mr. Logan’s boundaries.” I reminded him, and he let out a disappointed apology at the man.

    “S’alright, I actually get that one a lot from people a lot older than you.” He joked and some of the parents in the back laughed it off. “’Sides I got this fancy arm here now.” He lifts up his sleeve to show off the dark green prosthetic. It looked incredibly high tech and impressive, but all I could wonder was how that metal would feel in contrast to his skin.

    Before I could go any deeper into that thought the bell rang and it was time for recess. I stood in front of the class, next to Clyde, and announced “Alright friends! It’s recess time, I want you all to line up with your parent’s behind Mr. Logan here, and we’ll go out.” I grabbed my keys and stood just in front of Clyde watching the mass of students and parents file into a nice line.

    Once everyone was set, I led the class out the classroom, down the hall and out a side door to the playground. I led them to a big oak tree next to a bench in the shade. “Alright friends! I know all my smart children know this but once the recess monitor blows the whistle we meet back here!” I announced, mostly for the adults. “Now, make sure you’re all careful and nice to each other, if your guests want to play, they can but if they don’t, we have to do what?” I asked, waiting for their response.

    “Respect their choice.” The class answered in a monotone fashion, just ready to get on the playground. So, I dismissed them and in a varying degree of excitement the crowd dispersed. Most parents went off with their kid but Clyde seemed to linger back.

    “Mind if I hang back for a bit?” He asked politely gesturing to the bench I was already seated on.

    “Not one bit,” I allowed and he sat with a gruff sigh, “I’m surprised you’re not bein’ pulled in a million directions. After the boys found out you were in the army, I thought they’d be buggin’ ya to play with them.” I wondered aloud, watching the young kids kick around a soccer ball in the field.

    “I think that’s Sadie’s doin.” He answered shortly, only elaborating when I gave him a confused look.

    “She talkin’ bad about you behind your back?” I asked.

    “No, I think she was hopin’ you and I’d be friends.” I stiffened, my quick little crush on him must be obvious for his third-grade niece to try and throw me a bone.

    “Oh, Clyde I’m sorry, if you don’t want to sit with-“ I began, but he cut me off.

    “Don’t worry Darlin, if I didn’t want to sit with ya’ I wouldn’t be.” He affirmed in his sturdy assured manner of speaking. I subconsciously moved closer to him. “I hope you don’t mind my askin but, what brings you to Boone County?” He asked innocently.

    “Well Clyde I’d tell ya’ but I think it would take me a couple drinks first.” I avoided the answer, knowing if there was any chance this man liked me back it would be squashed by me crying on him at the playground.

    “That does seem to be my specialty darlin’.: He replied smoothly, gaining a confidence I hadn’t seen in him earlier. Maybe he was being polite, but I hoped he was just getting more comfortable with me.

    “Well, then you should have no trouble making drinks strong enough to get my secrets from me.” I rebutted; it was a little too honest for my liking but the way Clyde was looking at me made me want to tell him all my little truths.

    “I’ve got different ways of gettin’ secrets out of a lady and gettin’ you drunk ain’t one.” He responded with an understated grin, it’s like he knows what he is doing to me.

    The rest of recess was spent under the sturdy oak tree on a bench talking to Clyde about trivial things. He didn’t bring up anything from my past that he may want to know and vice versa. I was curious how a man like him could be single until it hit me that he never really specified that he was in fact single. The thought of Clyde having a wife or girlfriend at home waiting for him made my stomach turn all throughout the lunch period. I thanked God that I was able to regroup in my room rather than stand in the cafeteria monitoring the kids.  

    I spent most of the period cleaning up the room and setting out a craft that would take a good portion of the rest of the day since the kids weren’t going to their usual elective class. This helped even my mind out of funk Clyde put it in. Just as I felt like my brain, and its hormones, mellowed out there was a knock at the door. When I opened it, Clyde stood there with none other than Sadie on his shoulders.

     “Hope ya’ don’t mind Miss L/n!” Sadie said excitedly, “Uncle Clyde and I finished lunch early and snuck out!” She let out a mischievous laugh.

      “Well,” a chuckle slipped past my lips, half in shock and half amusement of their antics, “Since you’re still with Clyde I can let you get away with it just once.” Clyde’s cheeks burned at my statement and I shot him an innocent smile. He ducked through the doorway enough to get Sadie through safely, then brought her down careful not to drop her.

      “Sadie, since you’re here would you out a worksheet at every desk for me?” She nodded and worked diligently to do what we asked. I turned to Clyde who was unceremoniously eating a cookie from the table of refreshments. “So, what brings you from the cafeteria? Mrs Lowells Cookies?”

    Clyde, not expecting to be seen mid-cookie, chokes a bit, “No-“ He pauses to regain composure, “No, I er- I didn’t want you ta be lonely in here?” His questioning tone and red cheeks told me it wasn’t the full story, but like we did under the oak, I didn’t push him.

    “Oh? That’s awful sweet Clyde, was its Sadie who offered to keep me company?” I asked knowing that it was most definitely not. Sadie was a social butterfly, and lunch was her domain in the third-grade class.     “Hm? Sadie?” Clyde smirked, knowing full well I was onto his schemes, “Of course Miss L/n, what are you trying to insinuate here?”

    “Nothing Mr. Logan,” I took a step closer to the man, being mindful there was still a child in the room, “What did you think I was insinuating?” I challenged his notion and was met with a blossoming blush and shy smile.

    “Nothing improper,” he raised his hand to show three fingers, “Scouts honor darlin’.” At that a burst of joy exploded in my chest. Clyde Logan was a gentleman through and through and it made me want to burst.

    “Alrightie then Scout, how bout’ you help little Sadie pass out papers, lunch is just about over.” He broke his gaze and it felt like the world around me faded back into view. I wondered how many women sat across his bar and felt the same. Am I just another girl falling under the spell of a charming, well-mannered, one-armed, bartender? I turned to look at him passing out the papers with all the seriousness of a drill sergeant in basic training. It was incredibly endearing.

    Yet again, the bell rang and the moment of wonder between Clyde and I was interrupted by the trickling stream of students.

    The rest of the day was surprisingly chaotic for a worksheet and a craft. Two bottles of glue were spilled, both by adults, and there was a cotton ball fight that led to two students’ clips being moved to yellow and two parents sent to the hall to cool off. The headache that was reverberating around my head after a day spent taking care of the students and the parents must’ve been the biggest one in a long time. As I was cleaning up, I found that Sadie had left one of her drawings on her desk, which was odd because Sadie always made a point to take hers home for her dad.

     I took the paper and put it on my desk to save for her, and once I was satisfied with the state of the room, I decided to see what the drawing was. On one side of the page was a nice tree over looking some flowers and a house, a skilled drawing for their age, but that was nothing new for Sadie. On the back however, it was a very different message.

Miss L/n, my uncle Clyde thinks you’re pretty. He works at the Duck tape bar every night except for Mondays (or whenever he gets sick).

p.s.: you should marry him so you can be my aunt.

I never did take Sadie for a match maker, but then again I can’t complain when I’ve got another reason to go visit a particular bartender, and hope that he felt the same chemistry I did.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Again, first fic so please interact or leave some feedback! Would love to hear if anyone wants more!

[heathered-beinn]

BTS American Hustle Life Ep4

Ep 3 recap: BTS are in LA to learn about hip hop. During that episode they met their dance teacher, Jenny Kita. She set them a few challenges including a solo demonstration, a dance battle against professional dancers, and the task of choreographing a dance routine in small groups. J-Hope’s dance skills shone the brightest throughout which was both a surprise and a delight! Jin, despite being the least proficient dancer in the band, tried really hard and it paid off in the final challenge – he and J-Hope were deserving winners.

We also started to see the friendships between the band members more, which was quite lovely. I really hope this continues in the series.

 On to Episode 4!

Holy cow, that dorm is an absolute pigsty. Ewwww! The amount of water bottles alone makes me want to cry.

Lol, I wonder how RM and Jimin ended up having to clean the dorm up?

They did a good job with it though and somehow managed to find some fun in between. The bathroom scene was hilarious!

Like last episode Jimin appears to have dropped some of his mask. Maybe I’m just seeing things but in this ep he just seems a little softer around the edges - more playful rather than loud and over-the-top. I think RM is good company for him. I’m not sure how to word it without accidentally making it look like I think the other lads treat him poorly (which I don’t believe they do!!) but I think RM is quite respectful to Jimin? As the leader RM’s attention will be pulled in many directions and when he can give spare undivided attention he probably spends it more on his elder bandmates as they are closer to his own age. However, I get the sense that when he does focus on Jimin he does it with the kind of patience and gentleness that the others are maybe not quite so liberal with? That’s not to say he won’t tease Jimin or joke around with him (he does) but so far it comes across as a little warmer than the others perhaps because he’s naturally gentler in nature? I’m probably talking out my **** here but that’s just what I’ve sensed.

One final thing: Jimin’s English is really improving!

So while Jimin and RM are cleaning the dorm, Suga, V, and Jungkook are on laundry duty. LMAO how is that fair? I was thinking that the “chores” were punishment for losing the challenge in Ep3 but Jimin and RM were so close to winning and yet seem to have been given the worst chore?

LOL, how can those three lads make laundry seem so complicated??

They really are big kids – I’m glad they can find ways to have fun though. But ewwwwwwwwww Jungkook, the 3/5/7/10 second rule is a myth, don’t eat things off the ground ��� particularly in a foreign country!!

Woah!!! they licked each other’s ice creams without hesitation!

To be honest I think it is more of a reflection on my own culture rather than theirs that this seemed so surprising to me. Generally sharing food without the ‘ew that’s got your spit on’ and other hang-ups – particularly between boys - ends around 8-10 years old here.

Jungkook sweetie, I really doubt you’ve put on much weight – are you sure you haven’t just grown another few inches? It certainly looks like you’ve grown. At this point you might end up towering over Suga and Jimin.

Ah so Jin and J-Hope are food shopping. So maybe these chores are not punishments for losing the challenge. I’d still like to know how Jimin and RM got the short straw to clean the dorm lol.

Oh good grief, BTS cooking – after their challenge in the first series I dread to think what poor concoction they’re going to come up with.

OK so J-Hope’s cheese sticks verdict… V = X, RM = XX, Jimin (so cute as he bounded over like an excited puppy) = too polite to use his new English word “disgusting”

Jin’s ham on toast concoction: LMAO at Jin blowing on the forkful before feeding Jimin. No comment on Jimin’s tongue action though…

It seemed to taste okay judging by Jimin’s reaction. RM does not agree lol. It was cute how Jin was feeding the rest of the toast to Jimin and Jungkook like a parent feeding infants.

After what I wrote earlier about RM it’s nice to see the other lads interacting with Jimin more. I wonder if some of the impatience that occasionally comes across is simply down to the editing?

So we move on to a new day and the whole group are heading to Long Beach by foot. Crikey, Jungkook looks like he’s grown another inch over night!! Why on earth is he wearing two layers in the LA heat???!!

It’s great to see that BTS are still ‘star struck’ by celebrities. I guess, back then, the band were not that well known – at least not like they are now. They certainly did not cross my radar – not like 1D did.

LMAO – V randomly saying he drooled when he saw Warren G. What?????!!!!

Warren G seems a great guy; very chill and calm with the band. *Again I’m going to say it but I love how BTS have the confidence to say another man looks handsome like they did when admiring the photo in the record store*

Yeah Warren G is a really decent guy.

There’s something fundamentally poetic in the way that Jimin said of Warren G, Snoop Dogg, Nate, (in a tone of amazement and disbelief) “They were just elementary kids but became legends”. I mean, BTS were once ‘elementary school’ kids and while, in that moment, Jimin did not know how big the band would get, the same sentiment applies to BTS.

So their new challenge is to write lyrics based on their own lives to Regulate.

Good boys; slapping on the sunscreen – thumbs up for skin care!

Oh good grief Jin, if the American dorm is slowly becoming like your Korean dorm then I shudder to think what state your Korean dorm is in!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oooh so the band are opening up a little about their lives in order to make lyrics for their rap.

After a bit of travelling by bus and making friends with the locals, Jin and J-Hope settle down in a park to talk. We learn Jin started off acting and not singing? Now that’s interesting! Not all of BTS had joining a band or even BTS’ music style in mind from the beginning. Jin also has a brother and he was into hip hop so Jin had some knowledge of it before joining the band.

J-Hope’s turn and he admitted when he first joined the band everyone was a rapper and he was the only dancer which made him feel remote.

This, again, is really interesting to learn as this was the scenario I was pinning on Jimin – unless there were different BTS members back when J-Hope joined? I really don’t know how the band was formed so I hope at some point they talk about this. I liked how Jin admitted he was surprised to hear about J-Hope feelings. They should talk like that more often.

RM and Jimin travel to another part of town – near the school/college that some of the most famous rappers in the music industry attended. I really like the motto of the building “Enter to learn go forth to serve”. I’m not American so I don’t know it’s true connotations but to me it’s simple and strangely compelling. Like; ‘We don’t care who you are either come in and learn and repay by using it to serve the community - or travel forth on down the street and sign up for the army and serve that way. There’s a purpose for everyone.”

RM and Jimin talking <3

Jimin’s answer to what he found difficult when he joined the band is fascinating. While the translation felt a little off, it reads as he cares a lot about what others think of him and doesn’t want to let anyone down or let any of his (self-perceived) shortcomings hold others back. In order to achieve this he spent a lot of time trying to catch up or improve so that no one could easily spot his weaknesses. Ultimately, he wants to care less what others think of him so he can lose some of the pressure? I really think there is a lot more to this “want to care less about what others think” than the vague answer he gave (or was edited in). His starting phrase “I should live quietly for the sake of my team” was quite a loaded sentiment and didn’t quite follow what he said next – definitely some careful editing there.

RM’s sentiment echoes this. He talked about seeing a very over-weight man walking around LA topless and admired the man’s confidence to not care what other people thought. RM wants some of that confidence to stop constantly watching out for what others thought about him. This is the type of pressure many celebrities talk about a lot. In my opinion, any one remotely “famous” are seen as role models (rightly or wrongly) and society holds them to ridiculous standards. Make one mistake and that’s you cancelled like you are some item in a shop that can be returned for a refund. I personally think people have a very skewed idea about what makes a ‘role model’. For me, a role model shouldn’t be perfect but when they do make mistakes they should own up to it, apologise, and attempt to fix or make up for any hurt caused. We, as their fans, need to relearn how to accept an apology, forgive human errors, allow people to learn, and move on. Min rant over.

Moving on: Suga, V, and Jungkook are down near the beach front discussing their lyrics. The way V instantly thought of his Dad tells me he’s quite family orientated. It was touching the way he said he made him the person he was today.

Jungkook’s thoughts where based more on his internal thoughts of himself as a person and a musician. It was very honest of him to admit that back home he’d been pretty confident of his talent but once he joined (BigHit?) he quickly realised there was a lot of people with as much, if not more, talent than him and it knocked his confidence. I wish Suga had spoke more about his own thoughts rather than just write the lyrics.

 Challenge Day:

To be fair, all three groups rose to the challenge and not only had some great lyrics but sounded polished and rehearsed. We only got snippets of the songs but from what we did hear I would struggle to pick a winner. I guess, for me, it would feel like picking one’s persons’ struggles over another’s. Hard to judge.

Lol at Suga oversharing about being in the toilet when he was writing *crying with laughter face*

Awww, Suga, V, and Jungkook won. They definitely tried harder with this challenge than the one in ep 3 so I felt it was deserved.

Final musings:

Another interesting episode. I think the band learned a lot more about hip hop this episode and Warren G was a real gent. We also learned more about each band member in terms of their thoughts and experiences when joining the band. We (I) also learned more about their personalities which hadn’t been so clear in previous eps and series. I think the editing can misconstrue some moments so I’m probably going to re-evaluate my musings on each band member from time to time – this is a good thing though!

Looking forward to ep 5!