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olsenmyolsen · 2 years ago

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Three Weeks

Part 26 of On The Inside With Elizabeth Olsen

Word Count: ~6K

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Liz POV

It's been three weeks since Y/N left. Three weeks since I've spoken to my sister Mary-Kate and three weeks since speaking to Y/N's mother. I wish I could say that all of this was easy or made better due to the fact that I'm actively trying to live a life that doesn't involve me missing Y/N, but it sucks.

This is one of the hardest things I've had to do.

But here I am, waking up in my bedroom alone and sad, for you guessed it, the third week in a row. I think I've slowly morphed into my Character Leigh Shaw. That's who I am now.

A cold, depressed bitch missing her love and looking for answers.

Anywho, I did some of the cliche break-up things you're supposed to do! I cried while watching Rom-Coms and eating ice cream. I dyed my hair! Goodbye, dirty blonde, and hello, brunette Lizzie. I made sure to tell my friends that I was doing better when in reality, I was not.

Scarlett and Aubrey were quick to see through that shit.

That led to a very passive-aggressive forced lunch with a seven-month pregnant Scarlett and her daughter Rose who very sweetly had no clue what was going on. Colin was set to join, but I'm certain Scar made him stay home.

On the other hand, Aubrey called me out on everything once I spilled it all. But she wasn't as upset with me as other people had been. But she made sure that when I'm in LA that I stay with her since Robbie is still occupying our/my house. I told her that wouldn't be necessary since I have other friends and family to stay with but saying no to Aubrey is weirdly tricky.

Also, I took a page out of Y/N's book. Literally. I started writing. Okay, not like writing writing like Y/N but writing my thoughts and what I want to say the next to I see my Coffee Girl. I have a pile of envelopes ready to go. Each one is different but laced with love. They constantly stay in my purse. I'm afraid I'll lose them otherwise.

I know I haven't talked to her since, but.. this hasn't stopped me from trying. No calls, just texts every once in a while. Letting her know that I'm thinking about her and her safety. I know she's doing okay, thanks to certain people, but I can't wait to see that smile shine on her face whether I'm an inch away or thousands of miles.

I yawn and get the sleep out of my eyes before making my way into the kitchen. I haven't been eating the best or a lot lately, so maybe making a big breakfast will help today. It didn't help last week, but I can try again.

Waffles. Eggs. Cut up fresh fruit from my rooftop garden.

This is what I ended up making, and to my surprise and delight, I ended up eating a good majority of it. I compost what I don't eat because I'm not sure when I'm returning.

Oh, did I not mention? I'm flying to Los Angeles today.

I still have a couple of hours until my flight, and I packed last night, so I might as well water and say goodbye to my plants before making one final trip to Y/N's apartment.

Y/N POV

Today of all days, I have to wake up feeling like I got hit by a train.

Everything hurts. My head is pounding like a hammer. My nose is stuffed but also running. Every time I try to clear my throat, it feels like tiny needles are being dragged down my esophagus. This is awful. I knew something was happening, but I blamed it on allergies. I should've known when Nick said, "it's just a cough," he was lying. It's never just a cough. If he wasn't one of the nicest men I've ever met, I'd be so pissed at him.

Speaking of Nick. Since the last time he confided in me that he has feelings for my mom, nothing has changed. My mom knows but doesn't want to pursue a relationship. I understand her completely. I'm not saying I want to see her and Nick be together, especially since no one can replace Davey.

I know Nick wouldn't be, but that doesn't make it easier. But my mom and him have a perfect friendship right now. At the drop of a hat, they're there for each other. Wait-

What's that ringing?

I turn my head as I get pulled from my thoughts. I reach over and answer my phone with a scratchy throat.

"Hello?"

"Pumpkin? Are you alright? You sound terrible." Thanks, mom.

"I think Nick got me sick." My mom groans into the phone. "I told him to rest and that we'd have dinner together next time you visit, but no, he had to make a home-cooked meal for you."

That's sweet. I smile through the pain as she continues her rant. "He's just like your father at times, I swear." My mom laughs at her own words. I don't think she fully realized she just compared Nick to Davey, but I let it slide.

"Yeah.. so why'd you call mom?"

"Just wanted to make sure you'd be up and ready for today." I pull my phone away and see I still have a couple of hours until my flight.

Oh, did I not mention? I'm flying to Los Angeles today.

"Yeah, I packed last night. Remember one big suitcase." I try to stifle a groan as I sit up. But my sickness and back have other plans for me. If one thing is for sure, I can't wait to never sleep on an air mattress again.

"Oh, that's right! I'm sorry I can't see you off."

I roll my eyes, knowing how busy my mom is and that no matter what she says, she wants to keep me here. She practically didn't let me go last night after dinner.

"I know, mom. It's alright."

"Whose picking you up from the airport?" Oh, that's right, I forgot to tell my mom. "James. Max's brother."

My mom accepts the answer and starts telling me about how her morning has been so far while I fumble my way into the bathroom and begin searching through every drawer, looking for cold & flu medicine.

"What's that racket?"

Apparently, I was not as quiet as I thought. "Where's the medicine? I searched everywhere." I ask through a cough.

"Bottom drawer. Behind the green bag." I search precisely where my mom said, and she was exactly right. How do mothers do that? "Be sure to take some ibuprofen two hours from now as well."

"Okay, mom." I throw back the pills before scooping some water from the tap into my hand, drinking like a sick animal.

"Be sure to eat something too." My mom adds, but all I want to do is curl up on the couch and die. "Mom, I'm no-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence Y/N Y/L/N."

"Yes, ma'am." Great, now I'm in the kitchen.

"Oh, before I let you go, dear, what are your plans for your birthday?" Oh shit. My birthday is coming up. "No plans," I say, closing the fridge door with a shrug earning a sigh from my mom on the other end.

"Okay, let me know if you want to come back home for that."

I doubt it.

"Okay, mom. I'll keep you posted."

"Thank you, Y/N. Now I love you. Be sure to eat something and text me once you're on your way to the airport." I nod my head. "I will, mom. I love you too. Okay. Bye."

I end the call and throw my body onto the couch. I try to fight it, but before I know it, my eyes close, and I'm asleep.

Liz POV

They fixed the elevator.

The moving steel box's doors slide open as I reach my designated floor. Y/N's floor. With an envelope in one hand and her key in the other, I make my way to the door. I know she's not here. But a part of me still hopes I'll be in for a surprise when this door swings open.

And she's not here. In fact, the place is almost in the exact same position it was when I left it. Except it looks cleaner? Wait? Has someone been here? I take a couple of steps into the place and do what you're not supposed to do in every horror movie ever. "Hello?" I call into the quiet apartment.

I get no response.

Not fully trusting this situation, I close the door behind me and quickly search the place. It isn't until I find myself in Y/N's kitchen that I find a note stuck onto the fridge.

Hey Oslen,

Knowing you, you'll be back to Y/N's place more than once. But just in case I was wrong (I'm not), I went ahead and cleaned out her refrigerator and tidied up the place. You never know when she might come back, right? Plus, we can't have the place smelling like an old, run-down dumpster.

Anyways I'm sorry I haven't reached back out to you. But I'm happy to know that it looks like Y/N's case is finally on track to be over. Perks of having one of the hottest and best lawyers. ;)

Text me when you see this. And as far as I know. She's safe.

With care, Max

I fold up the piece of paper and place it into my back pocket but not before shooting a text to Max, letting her know that I saw her message and that I'm happy she's safe.

Reminding myself that I have my own piece of myself to share with Y/N. I take the envelope in my hand and walk it over to the coffee table. I hope she sees it. Maybe not tomorrow but some day.

After combing over the living room, I make my way into Y/N's bedroom. Knowing that there's not a murder in the building, I can actually look around to see the improvements Max made. Like for example, not more shirts on the floor. Instead, most of them are folded up on the bed or tossed onto hangers.

My hand immediately gravitated to one of the most recent pairs of shirts she wore. Yes, the pink-fonted Elizabeth Olsen picture collage shirt. I unfold the shirt and bring it up to my face. It still smells like her, but it's not as strong... I have to stop the pout from forming on my face. I've done it like crazy lately. I look back down at the shirt and start to get lost in a train of thought. Without another second, I find a small duffel bag and begin filling it with some shirts knowing that if I wear them out, I'll get seen. And if I get caught, they'll be posted everywhere. Everywhere- for one's woman's eyes to see.

"How did you get more bags?" My driver Mr. Bronson jokes as he takes them from me to place into the truck with my other luggage. "Technically, the one is a guitar case." This earns a sarcastic oooh from him.

I felt a little.. weird taking Y/N's old guitar, but it feels right at the same time. Plus, I keep remembering the texts Sam showed me from Y/N.

If you don't hear from me in the next couple of weeks, just know that I'm fine. Feel free to come to my place tomorrow. (Address) Take what you want.

Also, I don't want this guitar of hers to become lost or thrown out by mistake, and I've been itching to relearn to play.

"Ready?" Mr. Bronson pulls me from my thoughts. I quickly nod as the car slowly pulls away from the curb. I take one final look behind me to see Y/N's place become smaller.

Y/N POV

"Okay what about this." (Video attached)

That's more what I'm thinking.. but faster and don't be afraid to make it more Appalachian.

Y/N It's your song why don't you just record it.

Robbie, first off it's our song and I don't exactly have my guitar with me.. also the lyric is "I only want to be in the passing lane" Not "fastest lane."

Shit. You're right. This will be much easier when you're here.

Couple of hours. Thanks again. I know I've said it a million times but thank you

I should be the one thanking you. But fr stop it. We're helping each other. Also I'm just glad we're past the awkward stage. It's not everyday two exs become friends.(?)

Writing partners *

Writing partners

"Earth to Y/N."

I lift my head from my phone, confused, which wasn't the brightest idea. My head is still killing me. The pills are helping but not as much as I want them to. "What?" I ask whoever is begging for my attention as I close my eyes and rub my forehead.

"Just wanted to know if you needed any help with your bags. You okay?" A male voice speaks.

I pull my eyes over to the voice. It's Nick. He's standing in front of the now-closed front door. How long has he been here? Shit what time is it?

I quickly panic and look at the time displayed on my phone.

Whew. I still have some hours till my flight takes off. But that means we should be leaving soon. Airports are always an annoying hassle.

"Y/N?" Nick's voice is now softer as he sits down on the couch next to me. "You okay, kid?" I take a deep breath and try and clear my painful throat.

"Yeah."

I guess I didn't do a good enough job at the throat-clearing. Nick's face remains unchanged, but his eyes are filled with worry and guilt. He knows I'm sick. And he gave me his cold.

"Did you take medicine?" I gently nod, not wanting to hurt myself more.

"Anything you need?"

"I'm fine." Me saying that and looking "fine" are two different things, but I hate being sick, so dwelling on it makes it worse. Plus, Nick and I are becoming closer. In fact, anytime my mom was at work, and if he had time, we'd hang out. It didn't involve much. Sometimes it was just watching tv or grabbing lunch, but it formed this weird bond between us. Maybe I remind him of his late son, or perhaps he is just a good man. Or, who knows, maybe he's showing me he can be... something more. I don't know. What I do know is that I don't want him to be worrying about me right now. I got enough going on.

Nick looks at me uncertain but doesn't push it. "Are you all packed?"

"Yeah, I did it after dinner." Nick nods his head as he gets up to go to the kitchen. "Tea?" He asks without turning his back.

"Yes, please."

Liz POV

Paparazzi present as always.

They're lining up at the entrance to the airport, just alive and waiting. I guess word got around. I was showing up. I mean, it makes sense the paps would want a good photo of me. I've barely left my place the last couple of weeks so getting a picture of me "out of my cave" makes people go crazy.

"Mr. Bronson?" I ask while keeping my attention on the picture takers outside. "Could you help me with my bags?"

"Of course." I turn to see him already looking at me with a smile. "Hat and sunglasses on." He reminds me. "Ready?" I nod once I'm "disguised."

"Ready."

"Let's go." Mr. Bronson steps out of the car and opens the truck grabbing all my bags placing them on the floor before closing up the trunk. He comes around to my side of the vehicle and sets something next to the door. Before I can think about what it is, he opens the door reminding me to "keep your head down." I nod to him as he places the guitar case in my hand. "Might help." He adds.

It surprisingly works a little. As we walked by the paparazzi, far fewer pictures than usual were taken of me. The ones that knew who I was knew. The others, I think, were taking a gamble and thought I was some indie singer or something. Regardless. I'm here inside the busy airport, from one anxiety-filled thing to another.

Mr. Bronson left shortly once we made it inside. I thanked him profusely, which he, of course, shrugged off. All he told me was to "go get her." I guess he thinks I'm chasing after Y/N.

Speaking of...

I'm now sitting down, opening our very one-sided text conversation. I scroll back up to the last couple of texts she sent me. They make me smile. This was back before the ignored calls. Back before I screwed it up. Back before, I lost the one real thing I've ever known. I remember it.

"Excuse me?"

I quickly close and fumble to put my phone away at a quiet voice speaking to me. I look up through my sunglasses to see a girl. She must be 14 or so. How'd she get into this airport lounge? Doesn't she need to have a credit card and be a member or something? Oh God, is she lost?

I can feel my nerves begin to overtake me. Deep breaths, Lizzie.

"Excuse me?" The girl speaks to me again. Shit, I should probably say something.

"Hello." I give a smile as the girl's face lights up from me just speaking. "Oh my God, It's really you! I wasn't 100% sure. I was going to be mortified if it was someone else." I giggle, calming down a bit at the girl's tone and evident nervousness.

"What's your name?" The girl smiles again before it looks like she's trying to remember her own name. Oh gosh, seeing fans get like this makes me feel a little bad. I don't want them to get too stressed or nervous just from meeting another human being.

"Geneva."

I say the name back to myself internally before gesturing to the seat next to me since Geneva was just hunched over in front of me. "Are you sure?" She looks at me with such worry, but I motion again. "Please. It's okay." Geneva nods before taking the seat next to me. She looks like she wants to say a million things, but at the same time, she's too star-struck to do anything. I got time to kill, and I haven't really been talking to many people as of late, so I'll start.

"Geneva?" The girl turns to me- jaw dropped. "You said my name." I nod. "I did. Can I ask you a question?"

"Anything." She replies quicker than I would've hoped for.

"How'd you know it was me? And where did you see me from?"

Geneva points to her head. Leaving me a little confused. "Your cap." I lift my hand up to touch it. My LA Dodgers Cap? "It's like your calling card. You rep it more than any other celebrity. It's basically your own merch." She tells me with a smile. Huh, I mean, I guess I did buy Y/N her own cap for a reason.

I do wear it a lot, don't I?

"I literally bought one because of you. Oh, and I saw you from... over... there!" I follow where Geneva's finger is pointing. In the distance is an older man watching, waving at our interaction. So that's how she got in here. "That's my dad. I tried explaining who you were and why I was freaking out, but he didn't get it. I hope I'm not bothering you." Geneva quickly adds that last sentence in.

"Not at all. I was getting lost in my own world, so I'm happy you stepped over here." I tell her honestly. "Okay, good." Geneva appears to take a deep breath and relax a little after hearing that. I know that feeling all too well.

"So, where are you going?" I turn my body slightly towards Geneva, so she knows she has my attention.

"My dad and I are going to Oregon for a week."

"That should be fun." I instantly encourage the idea seeing that Geneva looks nervous. "I hope so. I don't like flying."

"That's okay." I go to say something else, but I see Geneva's wandering eyes look over my carry-on purse. "Where are you going?"

"Home." I point to my cap with a slight smile. Geneva slowly nods her head. "Filming?" I shake my head. "Not for a while."

"I loved WandaVision. I think it made Wanda my favorite." She mumbles that last part, but I heard her. "Oh?! Well, thank you, Geneva, but who was your favorite?"

"Bucky and Black Widow," Geneva replies, almost scared that she had another favorite before me. She knows I'm not the Scarlet Witch, right? I subtly laugh at her responses. "Those are cool characters. One is way cooler than the other."

"And hotter!" Geneva replies casually before realizing I'm not one of her teenage friends. She looks at me wide-eyed. "I-uh-I didn't- I'm sorry- don't tell Sca-" "It's okay. Your secrets are safe with me." Geneva still looks a little panicked, and it reminds me of the talks Y/N and I would have about her love of Black Widow.

I will say Geneva and Y/N are right. She is hot.

"Can I say something?" Geneva breaks the awkward yet comfortable silence that is building up in this loud airport. I gesture for her to keep going.

"I'm really sorry for how it happened, but knowing that one of my favorite superheroes or anti-hero or whatever you wanna call Wanda now was being played by someone who is a lot more like me than I thought was important."

This is a conversation that Marla and Rhonda told me that needed to happen. I have yet to publicly confirm that, yes, I am a part of a certain community now. All that's been said is that Robbie and I were no longer together and that I was seeing someone named Y/N Y/L/N—so hearing from a girl who can't even drive yet that I mean this much to her. It makes my heart warm up and break at the same time. I feel ecstatic that I can now be someone for people to look up to, but at the same time, I haven't done enough.

This needs to change.

I look over to Geneva.

"As I said, I'm sorry for how it happened, but you and your girlfriend look really cute together."

Girlfriend. I quickly use my acting skills and cover up and frown or look that suggests otherwise.

"Thank you very much, Geneva! Yes, we are cute, aren't we." I chuckle at the same time she does. "And I still look at Wanda as a hero, so you can too." I nudge Geneva.

Geneva looks down as her phone lights up. I didn't even realize she had it in her hands. "Oh, looks like we're about to board." Geneva looks up at me. "If it's not too much trouble, could I get a picture?" This child is so kind.

"Of course." I quickly take off my sunglasses as Geneva has the camera ready. I lean in close to Geneva, but not enough, so we're touching. "I won't take too many."

"I think a couple will be fine." I calmly but sternly tell her.

"Okay. One.. two.. three.. GAY!" My smile quickly morphs into a laugh that I cover worth my hand. I was not expecting the girl to say this. While laughing, another picture gets taken. "I can't believe I made Elizabeth Olsen laugh!" Geneva says a bit too loud for my liking reminding myself where we are.

It looks like we're done with the photos, so I quickly take the time to cover my face back up. "Thank you so much. Omg, this is the greatest thing I've ever taken."Geneva shows me, and it's a typical one, and then Geneva smiling as I'm dying of laughter. "I'm glad to be a part of it." In the distance, I see Geneva's dad making his way over here. I guess they're running a little late now.

"Thank you again! This means so much to me." I smile. "Me too." Geneva starts to walk away, but I stop her. "Geneva!" She quickly turns back. "Yes?!"

How do I say this?

"Do you mind waiting until tomorrow to post that picture? If you do it now.. the paparazzi will be worse in Los Angeles." Geneva thinks about my words. "Sure. I don't want it to be worse for you." I graciously nod. "Thank you very much."

"Of course, Lizzie. Happy Pride Month." Geneva waves at me before walking to her now crossed arm dad.

It is the start of pride month.

I quickly pull out my phone, exiting my text conversation with Y/N and opening the one with Marla and Rhonda.

"An interview needs to be made today. People need to know who I am."

Y/N POV

The ride to the airport was uneventful. Aside from the occasional small talk and "I'm sorry for getting you sick" from Nick, nothing happened.

Now we're inching the car closer to the departure zone.

"Hey, kid?" When he first started calling me that, I thought it would go away because of how annoying it was, but it didn't, and I've grown to like it.

"Hmm?" I turn to face Nick as his eyes are watching the cars in front of us.

"Is the reason you left New York waiting for you in LA?"

"No," I say without another thought to the question or to the pain in my throat.

"Do you want them to be?"

I purse my lips and think. I don't know.. I've been avoiding Elizabeth for weeks but saying that I don't want to see her at all would be a complete lie because I miss her. I truly do. For the past couple of nights, I've been having dreams and nightmares about her. Maybe that's what's making my move to LA easier.

"I don't know," I whisper my answer out as Nick nods his head and drops the subject.

"You know, getting to know you these past couple of weeks has been wonderful. I'm happy to know Laurie has such an amazing daughter." The car has now reached my drop-off area. I turn to the older gentleman next to me.

"It's been a pleasure getting to know you too, Nickolas." Nick smiles but rolls his eyes at the awkward way I say his name causing me to laugh, which I regret doing as my warm throat starts fighting me.

"Need help with your bag?" I shake my head no, but Nick is already out of the car, opening the trunk for me. Once I'm about, he's already wheeling my suitcase to me. "Text your mother when you land. She'll be worried sick otherwise."

"I will."

Without thinking, I wrap my arms around Nick and hug him. I feel Nick hesitate before doing the same. It didn't last long, but it was nice. "Thanks again for everything." "Sorry for getting you sick, kid." Now I roll my eyes. "It's alright. I'll see you, Nick." I turn around and start walking to the airport doors.

"Wait!" I turn around to see the car window rolled down with Nick leaning over the passenger seat. "Don't forget to check your bag! You're flying to LA; who knows what someone might do if it's left in the overhead bin." I shake my head at him like he's crazy until I remembered the conversation over dinner last night.

"Literally pee all over my luggage. Someone left their child's toilet up in the top, and during take-off, it flew to the back, smacking everyone's precious cargo." (A/N this story happened on a podcast I used to listen to)

My face morphs in disgust. I shoot Nick a thumbs up as he laughs at my face. "So long, kid!" And with that, I turn back around and head straight towards my airline's desk. Ready to check this bag.

Okay, so that took longer than I thought it would. Of course, it's the beginning of summer, and this place is packed. What was I thinking? Now I'm sprinting, yes, sprinting to my gate! Mind you; I'm still feeling terrible!

It's like a scene out of a movie. I make it to my gate just as the last couple of people are shuffling on. The ticket on my phone goes through, and now I can finally breathe! I follow the people onto the plane, double-checking that I have everything. Phone? Obviously. AirPods? Duh. Cards and ID? Front pocket because what if my bag gets lost because I listened to Nick? Okay, time to find my seat and get rid of this headache.

I picked the worst day to fly.

Does anyone watch the stewardess do the safety instructions in case something happens and you need to step up, or is this just my anxiety making me watch them?

Anyways I feel relieved once they finish up. The person next to me couldn't give a shit. They were on their phone the whole time, and let me tell you, they were getting screamed at by someone through text.

Which weirdly reminds me.

I open my phone. I never finished my conversation with Robbie.

wasn't ignoring you just got on the plane. I'll text you when I land.

After a couple of minutes, Robbie responds.

No sweat I started taking a crack at that other song All Eyes On Me. Are you sure this is suited for me?

Moody indie? Uh yeah dude.

🙄 Saving it for when you get here. have a safe flight.

👍🏼

I exit that conversation, and I'm surprised to see a text from Max I don't remember getting.

"Elizabeth stopped by your place again. I think it might be for the last time. She's leaving ny."

Oh wow. Trying to copy me, Olsen?

I'm trying to formulate a sentence to type back, but I get interrupted when the mean stewardess tells me to put all electronic devices on airplane mode.

I'll just text Maxine back later. As of right now, though, I think it's time to pull out my AirPods, put on a relaxing playlist and tune out that crying baby five rows ahead of me.

Liz POV

Even in first class, I'm nervous. I don't know what it is today, but my nerves are doubled. Ever since we touched down in my home state, I've had this weird feeling.

Was I wrong to leave? Is it wrong to come back home? I should've apologized and seen my sister before leaving. No, I should've fucking chased after Y/N when I had the chance. Oh, God. Should I change my sunglasses and hat?

"Miss Olsen?" I dramatically lift my eyes up from the spot where my engagement ring used to be to see the eyes of the kind stewardess saving me from myself. "If you'd like to follow me." I nod before getting up and following her like a lost puppy. Except lost puppies don't get the stink eye from people, you never met.

Once we make it to the gate, the stewardess leads me to a man waiting with my bags. Well, all except one thing. Y/N's guitar case. Also, who is this man? Why is he here? I can carry my own bags.

"Thank you," I say to the stewards, who gives me a tight-lipped smile before turning back onto the plane. I walk up to the man and thank him for gathering all my belongings, but I can take it from here. He obliges as I double-check that I do indeed have everything except the guitar. I do! So with my purse securely on my shoulder and the bags and cases in my hands, I make my way to baggage claim.

Y/N POV

Two naps in one day.

I feel better after the second one. Or at least I thought I did. My eyes aren't tired. My head isn't killing me. But my throat. My throat got worse. Yes, it doesn't pain me as much to speak, but it's extra scratchy, and anytime I do try and speak, it's not my voice. I sound like a different person. Oh goodness, I need cough drops and water quick.

A text to James, Robbie, Max, and my mom later, and I'm the last one off. I've never been that last one off a plane, so I guess I can cross that off my bucket list. Why is it called that? Anyways with no bags carried on with me, it's now time to try to find my airline's baggage claim.

Oh yeah, also, I've never been to LAX before, so this is a new terrifying experience.

I hate that I'm doing this by myself.

I shouldn't have listened to Nick. I swear I've watched hundreds of people come by and be gone while I'm still here. I literally watched a guy walk around the corner, come by, scoop up his bag and walk straight into a car waiting for him. What the fuck?

Also, some people have zero sense of fashion. I know I don't, but I was learning a thing or two from the Olsens. Plus, I'm gay, so it's different.

Anygays, after watching the black suitcase with red lining pass by for the 7,495 time, I'm about to give up when brand new bags start coming down.

I watch as the crowd around me starts to grow. I had to do a double take when I thought I saw a woman in an LA Dodgers cap hanging around, but I didn't see her anymore, and I have to remember I'm actually in California now, so that's probably normal.

Finally, I saw it! My large suitcase was making its way to me. Without much of a struggle, I'm able to pull off the belt and make sure that, yes, it's mine. I'm about to finally walk away when something catches my eye.

I watch as it slides its way down before slowly making it was past me. It can't be. I look over the stickers on the case. Surely someone else has my exact same ones.

Except no one has my Davey-made sticker for my high school track team. Only one was made.

And there it is.

I watch as the case passes the people to my right. "Hey." I croak out of my throat as I watch a hand go and grab the case. Shit. They didn't hear me. When did so many people get here?

"Excuse me." "Get out of my way." "Sorry."

These are all the things I'm spitting out as the power starts coming back into my voice as I'm rushing to whoever thinks they can't steal my guitar case.

How the fuck do they have it?

"Hey, stop," I call out once I'm behind the person. "You with the case!" Fucking unbelievable! They're ignoring me.

"Hey!" I clear my throat once more and get right up behind the person before grabbing the bottom of my case from them pulling them back towards me.

"Who the fuck do you think you are!"

Liz POV

It took long enough, but it's finally here in my hands. I'm surprised I haven't been recognized with how long I was just standing there waiting.

I thought I saw someone who looked a lot like Y/N peer their way toward me, but I lost them in the ever-growing crowd.

Anyways. It's finally here in my hand. I hear some commotion behind me, but I'm too tired to see what that's about. I just want to "Hey!" get to Aubrey's before bringing this guitar to Robb-

"Who the fuck do you think you are!"

I feel the guitar case being pulled from behind as my hand gets yanked back, turning me around.

"Hey!" I yell before our eyes meet.

Y/N & Liz POV

It's her! She's here in front of me!! Don't fuck this up.

Part 27

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