#we're starting at level five in case you wonder how this is possible

[spicebiter]

played my gnoll today in session zero of a campaign my roommate is running and especially in Pathfinder it KILLS being a gnoll (kholo) and a rogue/barbarian. I rocked up and almost sliced the biggest enemy in half and proceeded to bite it and another creature's head off within two more turns, it fucked hard

[msmarvelwrites]

Season Of The Witch

Summary: Your witchy abilities get you in quite a bit of trouble from time to time… But this time you don’t mind so much. 

Pairing: Bucky x reader 

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, honestly i think that’s it. Just soft boy Bucky.

Word Count: 2k

Author's Note: I had a lot of fun writing this one. Little bit of a witchy- halloween vibe for ya guys… Honestly I’m really in love with this idea, so who knows- if you like it I might write a part 2! 

Huge Thank you to @cutie1365 for editing this mess! Couldnt have done it without her!

“Okay, okay. What colour am I thinking of now.” Peter squealed, plopping himself down on your bed, staring at you like a kid on christmas. 

Being the Avengers personal psychic has its benefits, but this was certainly not one of them. You thought your party-trick of a superpower would have grown old on your friends, and yet it always seemed to draw a crowd of non-believers. You weren't the toughest or the strongest by any means, but you sure knew your way around a person's thoughts, which proved to be an advantage to the team. Mostly you were in charge of recon, but that didn't stop Natasha from dragging you to the gym every weekend and torturing you with super hero level workouts. 

“How many more times are we going to do this, Peter?” You sighed, but soon realised he wasnt caving. “Blue. Just like last time it was orange and the time before that thirteen. Can we please stop.” 

Peter scanned you over for a moment, before relaxing back on your headboard. 

Fine, but only because Mr. Stark said he was ordering Chinese and it's probably here by now. His voice echoed through your mind. 

“Actually, I heard Wanda say he’s getting pizza.” You corrected.

“How did you-?” He paused, eyes agape as your words registered. “That is seriously cool, you know that? I mean, I hang from the walls but that- that is cool! I can see why they coined you The Witch now,” Peter playfully shouted. “Can you do that with anyone, at any time?” 

You smiled sheepishly, remembering the times your wandering mind had gotten you in some pretty uncomfortable situations. You tried your very best to stay out of your friends heads, but sometimes that was easier said than done. Especially when it came to the former Hydra assassin. His thoughts seemed to creep into your mind, seeping through the cracks unbidden. Sometimes his mind would wander aimlessly, but that wasn't always the case. You knew about Bucky’s dark past, however hearing it in his own cruel words was something else entirely. Though he would never utter the words allowed they were seared into your mind. You had every sense to avoid the man and yet his voice, like gravel and smoke, drew you in, intoxicated on his every word as it clouded around your subconscious.

“Unfortunately” You sighed, easing back into the mattress and unconsciously biting at the corner of your mouth. Your gift didnt make you very popular when you were younger. You were honestly surprised it was so welcomed here. Most people consider you an invasion of privacy...  But Peter was different from the highschool kids you grew up with. Maybe it was due to the fact he was different too, but something about the way his mind wandered made you believe that radio-active spider or not, Peter would always be Peter. 

“What does Bucky think about?” 

That knocked you out of your thoughts. You snapped your head up and looked at Peter, who only seemed to have a curious look in his eyes. 

He’s so broody and mysterious. Guy gives me the creeps. 

“Bucky is a sweetheart deep down.” You faked a smile, concerned as to why you felt the need to defend him. From an outside perspective, it was possible to fear the former Winter Soldier. However, knowing what you did haunted your nerves. 

“I’m sure very, very deep down.” Peter chuckled. “I’m going to go grab some pizza before Sam eats it all. Are you coming?” 

You smiled softly, preparing yourself for the dinner with your friends. Though you enjoyed having a sort of family, dinners together would often grow overwhelming in your mind, voices colliding though your head, brewing into a storm in your thoughts. 

“I’ll be down in a few.” With that, Peter stumbled out of your room and down the hallway leaving you with your thoughts. You closed your eyes, concentrating on the many different voices faintly echoing around you. You could only make out bits and pieces as they vibrated through the walls and all around you. At first, it was hard to identify whose voice belonged to who, but soon after you moved into the compound it became easy. 

Natasha thought in poems. Her brain was always working on the next solution- the next verse. Her mind wandered in and out of trains of thought like a dancer, drifting back and forth with ease. It was always relaxing listening in. 

Tony was constantly listening to his music wherever he went. You had an inkling it was because he knew how powerful you were. ‘Like built-in surveillance,’ he’d often say. Though, you’d never deflate his ego in letting him know you could still hear his thoughts clear as day. 

But then there was Bucky. It took you a while to understand his thoughts. They always seemed erratic and chased- never one thought all at once, but it soon became clear why. Bucky was constantly correcting himself. When his mind began to tiptoe into the darkest corners, he’d change the conversation, ushering it back to what he thought was right. Listening to his internal debates became a favourite pastime of yours. He often reminisced about his time in the forties. You liked how easy it was, listening to him think. Though you had never said more than five words to him allowed, you were content with this little part of him. Pieces only you both knew. Like the beautiful woman he would lose himself daydreaming about. The way he described her made you feel flush all over. He never thought her name, and yet it stung all the more knowing his heart was stolen. His beautiful ‘ведьма’. Not that you stood a fighting chance. Not to mention the impending age gape you both shared. Often he would find you staring and a string of curses would follow as he realised he’d be caught. You never meant to intrude, but then again, that wasn't entirely true. 

With a huff, you swung your legs off the bed letting your feet hit the cold wooden floors, but before you could even open the door, you heard him. His voice was so loud you almost didn't know if he was speaking aloud or not. 

Just do it, you punk. Walk up there and ask her. What’s the worst that could happen?.... She could plunge a knife into your back- no…. She wouldn't do that and you know it. If you ask her, she might say yes… Honestly that might he worse than- 

You swing the door open, startling Bucky back a few paces as your eyes might his. Instantly his face blooms with pink as his mind races- his thoughts an incoherent mess. 

“Hi Bucky.” You spoke only above a whisper. 

“Oh jesus! I didn't know you were right there.” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck trying to steady his breathing. 

“Sorry…” You mumbled, breaking eye contact and suddenly finding the floor very interesting. “I didn mean to scare you-”

“You don’t- I mean, you didn't scare me.” He chuckled, his mind suddenly blank. “It doesn't matter right now because I, uh… I was wondering if you're coming for dinner.” 

You nodded your head, “Yeah, on my way now.” You smiled softly. 

“Great,” Bucky grinned, running his hand through his cropped hair and stepping aside. “I can walk with you.” 

You nodded, swallowing hard as you swung the door shut and began walking side by side with Bucky in heavy silence. 

“Know what’s for dinner?” Bucky finally spoke. 

“Pizza. Your favourite.” You affirmed, meeting his curious eyes. His strides slowed until he was at a full stop. 

“I never told you that.” He pried, looking at your in question. 

You froze, suddenly aware of what you had just said. There was nothing more you wanted than to sink into the floor and let the earth swallow you whole. 

“Uh,” You nervously laughed, “You must have at some point. Yeah, I remember now, it was-”

“How often do you listen?” he interrupted, making your mouth clamp shut. 

You thought about lying, though it didn't seem right. You knew all his secrets and all he asked was this one. Surely you could grant him that even if it cost a punch to the ego.

“All the time,” You started, your eyes never leaving the floor. “I don’t mean to. At least that’s the way it started. I really try to put you guys all on ‘mute’ when we're together, but your voice always comes through. I don't know what it is, but I like the way you think.” You admitted, feeling heat rising from your chest.

“You like the way I think?” He pried, taking a few steps closer to you. You could feel the tension buzzing around the hallway, ricocheting off the walls and exploding all around you. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so embarrassed. It's such an invasion of privacy. You must hate me. I promise I won't tell anyone about the things I hear. Especially her.” 

“Her?” He chuckled, taking another step toward you leaving only a few tiles between the two of you. 

“Ведьма.” You choked out. “You think about her all the time. She sounds beautiful, by the way. I’m sorry, that's overstepping… I just, I’m sorry. Really I’ll just go-”

Before you could turn on your heel and run for the hills, Bucky's hands were around your wrists, holding you still. His eyes were pleading as he opened he opened and shut his mouth trying to find the right words to say. 

“For a witch, you sure aren’t very intuitive.” Bucky signed, your eyes finally landing on his.  “My beautiful witch, don’t know by now?” 

You blinked at him, your mouth suddenly dry and words caught in your throat. Before you could speak, his thoughts broke through the air, tumbling around you. 

Are you listening, doll? His voice echoed around you sending a shiver down your spine. You nodded your head, watching as his eyes crinkled up as he a lopsided grin formed on his pink lips. 

It’s you. It’s always you. I've tried to stop, trust me. I just can’t seem to shake it.

You almost didn't notice the smile that began to pull at the corners of your mouth as you took in his words. They drifted in the air around you, echoing through your mind as Bucky’s thumbs rubbed circles into your skin. 

“Ask me.” You spoke up, a sudden confidence serging through your core. Bucky raised a brow, scanning you over until your words resonated with him. 

“Right, of course.” He cleared his throat, letting go of your hands and intertwining his own nervously. “Would you ever consider letting me take you out. To dinner, maybe?”

You bit down on your bottom lip to stop yourself from giggling as you listened to his internal monologue of nerves that followed his question. 

“Took you long enough.” You chuckled, watching as his smile lit up the room around you. Before you could stop yourself you closed the distance between you, draping your arms around his shoulders and crashing your lips onto his. Bucky froze, but almost as instantly melted into you, his hands finding their home on your hips as he pulled you in. You wanted nothing more than to melt into him but his racing thoughts swirled around you, causing a giggle to fall from your lips. 

Holy Shit. Kiss her back, you moron. Oh god she smells so good. What is that? Cinnamon? Citrus? Shit, she's so close to me. Don't panic. Don't panic. Fuck she feels good. Just relax, and- Oh shit. Can you hear me? 

You couldn't help but throw your head back, laughter bubbling out of your chest as his thoughts raced through his head. 

“I can tell you're going to be a lot of fun, Barnes” You mumbled against his lips.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/n: Nervous Bucky is my favourite can you tell? I loved this one, show some love if you felt the same! 

@cutie1365    @whateveriwant

@projectcampbell    @kalesrebellion

@calwitch     @hpandmcu177a

[mittensmorgul]

So for the most part, I outright reject the finale. But I do think, in light of the whole "Jimmy was supposed to be in the bar, and Dean was disappointed by that because his perfect heaven would have Cas in it" just makes me all the more convinced that the final episode was some kind of djinn dream. Like.... There's no other explanation in my opinion. If Dean's perfect heaven was supposed to have Cas, and he tragically gets faked out by Jimmy (????? Why tf would jimmy be there anyway), it just proves that it's not ACTUALLY heaven. That, along with he El Sol beer he's drinking is all the evidence I need. I think after 15x19, Dean and Sam got whammied by some monster, and are stuck in a hallucination, and that's what we're seeing. (My headcanon is that it's actually The Empty doing it, because it knows if it doesn't keep Dean and Sam occupied and spinning in circles, they'll invade the Empty to save Cas. So its trying to prevent that) :)

Hello, anon friendo! I am gonna start by offering the socially distanced version of a high five, because yeah... There is just so much to unpack here, and you provided such a succinct and all-encompassing series of statements to start from. Thank you!

*flings open array of questionable suitcases*

First off, Congrats on having rejected the finale. I know a lot of folks are still struggling with that one, for many reasons. But you have hit upon so many of the points I’ve been trying to make about the finale since it aired. I’d just like to start with some of the assumptions I’ve heard from folks about the finale that make it impossible for me to consider it fully honestly canon. Because so much about it just makes no goshdang sense... like... not at all...

One of the biggest issues I have surrounding the reception of the finale in parts of fandom is that it portrayed a “happy ending.” The show itself spent the entire final season telling us that a gravestone marked Winchester was not and never would be a happy ending (thank you Becky Rosen-- words I never thought I’d say, but honestly and most sincerely meant). Let’s break this down a bit.

Starting from the assumption that “heaven was fixed” so that characters could have true free will there, making it satisfying in any way that Dean died so young and never got to truly experience happiness during life, I would like anyone who has adopted this attitude to then explain Kansas the band. I mean... explain that in any satisfactory canon-compliant way. (hint: you can’t. it makes zero sense in canon, if heaven is truly reformed and “happy” with everyone in possession of free will.)

Which brings me to Misha’s comments about Jimmy being in the Roadhouse. Why, if heaven were truly fixed, would Jimmy ever in a bazillion years attend a party for Dean Winchester? If Heaven were truly a “happy” ending for Dean, why introduce this element of eternal tragedy and heartbreak to his heaven experience? Why taunt him with the eternal loss of Cas-- even if you don’t think he reciprocated Cas’s romantic feelings, he was canonically the best friend Dean ever had, and being forced to exist forever in a place where he had everyone else he ever cared for except for Cas? Is frankly horrific.

How the actual fuck is that a happy ending, in any sense of the word?

How is this the sort of heaven that Dean would’ve made for himself before it was “fixed?” At least in the memorex heaven, he could’ve lived in oblivious peace with Cas, even if it was always just his own memories and not ~actually Cas~. I honestly think that would’ve been happier than the abject tragedy of what we did get, and what we would’ve gotten had the original script played out.

All of this kind of makes me wonder if they ever even actually defeated Chuck. Like... it feels more like Dean got pulled into the Empty at that moment with Cas and Billie, and everything else after that point was the Empty’s endless experience of sorrow and despair we knew it subject its charges to. So that’s one potential for what could’ve actually happened. I mean, everything about the finale was sorrow and despair, you know? Dean didn’t even get to enjoy his pie at a pie festival because Sam smashed in in his face. How is any of it happy, in any way?

Because if that was actually heaven, there wasn’t actually any free will (because why tf would Kansas the band have chosen to put on that concert? why tf would Jimmy have been there, just to torment Dean with the taunt of Cas returning to him only to have that hope snatched away again? It’s cruel. It’s, in fact, a source of intense despair).

The djinn theory could also work, and I’ve read some excellent fix-it fic using that as a premise. But that doesn’t really explain what happened to Jack (and Amara, since she was in there with them) after hoovering up Chuck’s power, you know? I think the simplest explanations in canon are that Chuck actually won via the unified power of Light and Dark being transferred into Jack and effectively using him as a vessel. With Sam and Dean convinced they’d won, they effectively stopped resisting Chuck’s story for them, and using Jack’s understanding of humanity and the Winchesters specifically, Chuck finally was able to implement a version of his story that the Winchesters would just waltz into without thinking it was supernaturally influenced at all. Going bigger and bigger with monsters and cosmic troubles hadn’t worked, but going so small Sam and Dean would barely even notice the influence-- even with the incongruous reappearance of a vampire that appeared in their lives once, for like two whole minutes 15 years ago, and an unsolved case from the journal from more than 30 years ago that John had never even linked to vampires at all.

At this point, I need to mention that I’m watching 10.23 as I type this up. An episode in which we confront the Mark, along with Death, and Dean’s despair, where he learns a version of the truth (but by no means the full truth, or even accurate truth in some respects) about Chuck’s Story, Amara/The Darkness, etc. That would unfold more fully over the next five seasons. And what was the case Dean took in this episode? Vampires. LOLOL omg this show is nothing if not horrifically consistent, yes?

So because of this, I went haring off through my own blog looking for a post I made a long time ago about the symbolism of how various monsters are used on this show (because again, consistency). I got sidetracked by other posts in my monsters tag, including this from after 15.09 aired, which feels particularly awfully relevant. This was my reaction to Chuck’s Story he showed Sam in that episode, about what the future would look like should he successfully trap Chuck with a Mark, and which... yeah is basically exactly thematically consistent with what we saw in the finale, right down to a cheesy twist on vampires. Read the whole post right here, but this is the part that reached up and punched me in the face:

this is how Dean personally reacts when he loses Cas. We know how he reacts when he loses anyone else– think about what he did when Charlie died. He went on a murder rampage against the Stynes for killing her. When Mary died he broke some furniture and went full bore toward both resurrecting her and stopping Jack. But without Cas, Dean loses the will to fight. Sam has… always been different. He referenced Jess in 15.04 to remind us of how he was after she died in the pilot episode. Just like John, he picked up the revenge mission and ran with it. But for Dean, Cas is different. Without Cas… Dean gives up.

Because... Dean gave up. Sure, he and Sam weren’t overrun by vampires in the end. Chuck knew they’d never stop fighting the monsters, one way or another. The only way to get Dean to give up is something Chuck hadn’t quite figured out yet... maybe not until after 15.17, after confronting Cas in the hallway of the bunker, after absorbing Amara’s power, knowledge, and perspective on Dean.

Chuck needed Dean to give up, and honestly? Pushing Billie to clear him off the table and send him (and Cas, that pesky angel who never did what he was told) to the Empty would’ve been a direct way to deal with that... pretty much akin to having one sibling locked in a cage forever, yes?

Also, still looking through my monsters tag, I’m reminded of 14.15, and still cannot differentiate the version of Heaven in 15.20 from what was done to the people of that town. This... is not... paradise. This is actively what Dean has been insisting is the OPPOSITE of paradise since like… 4.22… No ending where Dean was a “Stepford bitch in paradise” ever had the possibility of being “happy,” at the core of things, and this “fixed” version of Heaven just doesn’t hold up to any degree of inspection. Something is seriously wrong here. https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/183465650390/so-can-we-talk-about-this-monster-of-the-week-for

And since I was unable to find the post I wrote who knows how long ago about Monsters and how they’re symbolically used on Supernatural to represent larger themes in the episode, I’ll just attempt to sum up what Vampires have been used for. Revenge. Vampires are always, in some way connected to themes of revenge.

(and hooray, I found at least a post adjacent to the one I’ve spent the last four hours trying to find... https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/187207052080/i-obviously-did-not-think-this-through, where I mention that shapeshifters are about revealing hidden truths (mostly about Dean since most shapeshifters are connected to Dean), zombies are about grief and the inability to move past it.)

So why... why at the end of their road is the monster that comes after them-- literally FOR REVENGE for something that had never been blamed on Sam or Dean to begin with, from season 1, directly connected to John’s revenge mission and the first time they learned about the Colt AND the first time they learned in canon that Vampires were even real... like... this feels very specifically like some kind of layers-of-meta levels of shade on them, you know? Vampires are for revenge, so what vengeance exactly is being visited upon Sam and Dean in this episode? If not Chuck’s entire story for them itself?

So yeah, 100% agree, something is incredibly rotten in the finale. And I am sick to effing death of people trying to convince us that anything about this was “good” or “happy” or “satisfying” in any way. Or even “how it was always supposed to end” with Dean dead bloody, as if the entire back half of the series hadn’t been suggesting that a true win was the subversion of all of Chuck’s story for them, and Dean finally being able to have his chosen family all alive, happy, and chilling on a beach somewhere watching the sunset. Nothing will ever convince me that the ending portrayed in 15.20 wasn’t exactly how Chuck thought he “won,” rendering it entirely irrelevant to the rest of canon, unless all of canon was ultimately the tragedy we’d been encouraged to believe would be firmly defeated in the end.

Folks, you can’t have it both ways. 

[jjmaybanksbaby]

Where It Leads (Rafe Cameron)

Summer III

Part 05: With Some Other Girl

series masterlist | previous part

summary: Rafe’s actions surprised you when there’s no awkwardness lingering from last summer.

a/n: New summer new drama!! We're more than halfway through this series and I might post the final two parts within a week so be on the lookout! That's all! Enjoy part five xx

word count: 2.2k words

Nowhere on the East or West coast did seafood quite like The Wreck. During your summers in the Outer Banks, you made sure that practically every other meal consisted of their to-die-for shrimp or amazing crab. For your birthday, back in October, your mom had even looked into getting food from The Wreck shipped to you before realizing that might have been a stretch.

You waited at the bar for the girl with the curly golden brown hair, and especially kind eyes, to return from the kitchen with your order. The smells of the food cooking made your mouth water.

A boy, who looked about your younger brother's age slide onto the bar stool next to you. His dirty blond hair fell into his eyes, clearly in need of a good haircut.

"Leave the customers alone, JJ." The girl set a paper bag with your food down in front of you, grease staining the bottom.

"I wasn't even doing anything, Kie," JJ protested.

"You're total's $40.53. Do you need a receipt?" She asked, taking your mom's card from your outstretched hand.

"I'm JJ, by the way." He held out his hand for you to shake but the girl - Kie, was it? - smacked it away.

"She's way out of your league, idiot. Sorry about him," she said turning to you.

You smiled at the both of them, their playfulness reminding you of your own friends from back home. "Nice to meet you, JJ." You picked up your bag of food, turning to leave.

"She was so into me." You heard JJ whisper to Kie as you walked to the front door.

"No way, is that y/n?" You froze, a few steps away from the exit, knowing exactly who that voice belonged to. "Hey," Rafe called again. "Get over here."

You'd been back in the Outer Banks a total of three days. You definitely hadn't been planning on seeing Rafe Cameron so soon. Well, after how last summer had ended, you hadn't really been counting on seeing him at all.

You spun on your heel, plastering on your best fake smile, and headed in the direction of Rafe's voice.

It's okay. Act casual. He's just an old friend. There doesn’t have to be any weirdness. You said to yourself, trying to calm your nerves.

Rafe was seated in a corner booth at the back of the restaurant, his arm slung over Phoebe’s shoulder who, herself, was sitting practically in his lap. Her expression looked especially irate at the fact that you were interrupting their - what was going on exactly? A date?

"Uh, hey guys," you said, approaching their table.

"Y/n!" Rafe repeated. "You're back for the summer?"

"Yeah, we got in a few days ago.”

"How are you? How's the boyfriend?"

Why the fuck was Rafe asking about Evan? You wondered, your eyes narrowing trying to gather some explanation from Rafe's face.

"We actually broke up. Last September. He hasn't been my boyfriend for a while." Correction, you'd gone back to Oregon and hadn't stopped thinking about Rafe, for the second year in a row. It didn't seem fair to Evan so you’d tried to let him down gently, the week before auditions for the fall musical no less. It became pretty clear how torn up about it he was when he started crying during the monologue portion of his audition and the tears weren't the kind you forced out solely for a performance.

"How sad," Phoebe said, turning her lip down in a fake pout making it clear she couldn't care less.

You just smiled back at her, not wanting to give any kind of validation. You could feel Rafe eyes on you.

"Okay, well, I guess I'll see you around." You turned to leave. Your mom was waiting outside in the car, probably wondering what was taking so long.

"I hope so," Rafe replied.

☼☼☼

You blinked your eyes open, adjusting to the bright sunlight filling the room. You rubbed the sleep from them, yawning.

Holy shit. This was definitely not your bedroom; this was Rafe's room. The events of last night came rushing back, the morning bless falling away.

You'd run into Cleo at the grocery store after your mom had sent you to get an onion she needed for dinner. Cleo had been buying chasers for Sawyer's my-parents-aren't home-and-they-left-the-liquor-cabinet-unlocked party and invited you. And you went. Which was probably the first mistake of the night.

Rafe had greeted you at the door with the kind of smile that screamed "I don't even remember our fight last summer." You'd opted to ignore the white powder under his nose, likely the reason for his bloodshot eyes.

The party had run dry after a few hours so Rafe offered to grab some more from his house since his whole family was in the Bahamas house for the weekend. You’d went with him because what the hell. The night hadn’t even been the least bit awkward. Mistake number two.

You sat on the Cameron's island counter as Rafe riffled through the cabinet, trying to decide which bottle Ward was least likely to notice was missing.

"Do you trust me?" He’d asked.

That was a loaded question but you’d nodded your head yes. He'd pushed your knees apart, stepping in between your legs like that's where he belonged.

"Tilt your head back," he'd instructed and you had.

Rafe uncapped the bottle of Malibu, pouring it straight into your mouth. He’d hummed with satisfaction as you swallowed the liquid. Your eyes locked as he ran a thumb up your neck and over your chin, whipping away the bit that had spilled before he brought your lips to meet his. It was by far the hottest thing anyone had ever done.

The kiss had tasted salty and coconutty, like the drink he had just poured into your mouth. He moved his other hand to your hip, pulling you in closer.

You'd only broken apart to fumble your way upstairs and into his room, shedding your clothing on the way, your lips finding each other's again and again, kissing like there was some ticking clock counting down the seconds.

You remembered the way Rafe's name had tumbled off your lips with his hand between your thighs. How his blue eyes held yours as he pushed into you. The sweet praises that he whispered into your ears as the both of you came underdone together. The way it all felt so fucking right, like the universe apologizing for the last two summers.

You hadn't meant to fall asleep, to spend the night in Rafe Cameron's bed but he'd wrapped his arm around you and your head fell to rest on his chest and sleep just came.

You kept your movements slow afraid of creaky floorboard as you slipped out of his bed. Sneaking out without Rafe waking up was sure to be the path of less resistance. Hadn't last night been a drunken mistake?

Your shorts had landed next to the bed and your bra was hanging from the door handle, the irony of that wasn't lost on you.

Rafe cleared his throat. "Good morning," he said. Oh, shit. So he was awake.

"I was just looking for my shirt," you replied.

The Cameron's front door opened with a bang. Cole and Milo's voices filled the house seconds later.

"Dude," Cole hollered. "Who'd you fuck last night? Some chick's panties are on your staircase."

Rafe's eyes meet yours and he leaped out of his bed. "Linen closet," he hissed, pulling open the door of the hallway closet and pushing you inside. "Stay here."

His footsteps echoed as he rushed down the stairs, stopping at the bottom to pick up your underwear and shove them in his back pocket.

"I need a fucking boat day," Rafe said to the boys. "I'm hungover as fuck. Can you go see if the Yeti coolers' in the garage? I think Ward brought it up from the boat last time."

"Uhh, yeah, sure," Milo answered. "C'mon Cole."

The sounds of their chatter disappeared and Rafe ran back up the stairs, pulling open the closet. "Okay, the coast is clear."

"Rafe, should we...uh...you know...talk about it?"

"What's there to talk about?" He asked back.

"Right," you answered unsure if you really believed that casual sex with Rafe Cameron was a possibility. "Can I have my underwear back?"

He shrugged, a smirk growing on his lips. "Nah, I think I'm gonna hold onto them. For safekeeping." What kind of bullshit patriarchal move was that? He looked over his shoulder to the lower level. "Milo and Cole will be back any second, you should probably go."

☼☼☼

You silently thanked your yesterday-self for having left your window unlocked just in case. You closed it quietly behind you and dove into your bed. The door to your bedroom swung open seconds later.

"Why are you still in bed y/n? I told you yesterday that we were going dress shopping for Midsummers today at noon. It’s less than a week away. Get up, please," your mom said.

"Sorry, mom. I'll meet you downstairs in ten."

"Hurry up." She pulled the door closed behind her as she left your room.

You breathed a sigh of relief, throwing off the covers you had hicked up to your neck to hide last night's outfit. Shit, had you really slept with Rafe Cameron? And then he brushed it off like it wasn't going to change things? As if whatever was going between the two of you couldn't get more complicated.

☼☼☼

The light bounced off the three-way mirror you were standing in front of, making the bedding on the dress sparkle.

"Turn around," your mother instructed. Apparently, this year's Midsummers’ theme was Hollywood Glamour like it was the fucking Met Gala or something so she'd been forcing you and in out of red dresses for the past hour and a half. "I really like this one y/n. The bow is so cute."

You resisted rolling your eyes. The bow was hideous, plus the high-low skirt screamed middle school dance. The bedding was itchy and you’d hardly had the dress on for five minutes.

The front door chimed announcing a new customer and Phoebe's figure appeared in the reflection of the mirror.

"I'm gonna go try on a different one, mom," you said, trying to duck into the changing room before Phoebe had the chance to see you.

"Wait, wait wait." Your mom grabbed your hips pulling you back in front of the mirror. "I just think this looks perfect on you, sweetie. Look," she stepped behind you, using one hand to twist your hair up into a makeshift updo. "you can wear your hair pinned up like this and we can get you a sparkly headband. It'll be gorgeous.”

You definitely weren't wearing any kind of a headband based on the fact that you weren't twelve anymore but, more important, you needed to get out of Phoebe’s line of sight like now. "Yeah, okay, mom. That sounds fine. We can get it then."

"Aw, honey. Do you not like it?" She asked, cocking her head to the side. "Cause we can try a different score. Even though this is the only dress store for thirty miles," she mumbled under her breath.

Phoebe glanced over from the front counter, her eyes meeting yours in the mirror. Your mother's voice became muffled as panic rose in your chest. You hadn't even thought about it last night but now all you could remember was Phoebe with Rafe's arm wrapped around her at The Wreck.

Phoebe abandoned her position at the front of the store, walking over to you.

"Hi y/n!" She started, her voicer reaching an octave that screamed fake niceties. "You must be y/n's mom. You two couldn't look anything more alike." That was a lie. You and your mom couldn't look more different. It was your older sister who was practically your mother’s clone.

God, what game was Phoebe playing?

"Oh my gosh.” She took half a step closer forcing you to notice the couple inches she had on you. "Is this your dress for Midsummers? It's so cute," she said, somehow managing to pronounce cute with two syllables.

Another lie. The dress was terrible.

"I'm just picking up my dress too. Custom-made." Phoebe flashed a smile to your mom. "I'm trying to talk Rafe into getting a matching bow-tie but he refuses. Boys," she giggled.

Shhe must have registered the look of surprise on your face. "Oh, did he not tell you we were going together? I wouldn't take it personally. We've been going together since freshman year. It's tradition at this point."

The saleswoman returned from the back of the store, a garment bag in her hand. "Well, I've gotta run. See you around!" She pranced off, her vanilla perfume lingering in the air.

"She seems nice. I'm so glad you're making friends here, honey.”

"Oh, yeah. She’s the best." If your mom heard the sarcasm in your voice, she chose to ignore it. "I'm going to try on the black one," you huffed, heading back into the changing room.

It wasn't like going with Rafe to Midsummers was in the realm of possibilities anyway, so why was it bothering you so much that he was taking Phoebe? Either way, there was nothing stopping you from making Rafe wish it was you on his arm instead. Petty wasn’t usually your style but something about the memory of Rafe’s lip on your neck being fresh in your mind made all rational thoughts go out the window. Game on Phoebe.

taglist! @oreoenthusiast13 [drop a ☀️ in my inbox or messages if you want to be added]

[eryiss]

Summary: Freed and Gajeel were total opposites in every way, only connected by the guild. When they were forced to train together under Makarov's orders, they expected antagonism and mistrust. Instead, they were given a lesson in how quickly opposition can turn to attraction. The issue: let the budding relationship simmer away, or let it explode. [Freed x Gajeel Multi-chapter]

Notes: Hello everyone. I’ve been wanting to write something longer for this couple for a while, and this idea seemed quite fun. I hope you all enjoy it and maybe I can convert some of you to living Freed x Gajeel. Happy reading.

Links: FFN, Ao3, Chapter List

Chapter One - Makarov's Idea

As he walked towards the guildhall, Freed kept looking up at the moon.

The nights sky was cloudless and gave him an unhindered view of stars and the moon. It was a beautiful sight, but made him frown a little. The moon was large and nearly in its fullest state, a concern for the time of year. It had been some time since the full moon had coincided with the longest day of the year, and it seemed like it was going to happen again this year. The brimstone in his blood seemed to fizz at the idea, and he quickly looked away.

At his side, Laxus bumped his shoulder to get his attention. His frown told Freed that the dragon-Slayer had seen his concern, and he smiled to comfort the man.

"Nothing to concern yourself about," Freed assured him. "I've got it under control."

"Make sure you do," Laxus instructed. "No missions until it's over, right?"

"Of course," Freed nodded.

Laxus seemed to think the matter settled at that, but Freed wasn't so sure. The entirety of the guild - or at least those not already on missions - had been called to the guildhall that night. Makarov hadn't explained why he wanted everyone present, but it was entirely possible that they would all be dragged away on a mission and that Freed would be forced to act as if everything was normal. So promising that he wouldn't go on any missions was more wishful thinking than anything else.

Still, if he did have to go on a mission, he could handle it. Six years ago, it had taken him by surprise. Not this time.

"Let's take bets," Bickslow, unaware of the hushed conversation, stated mischievously. "Fifty-fifty odds of it being either a world ending disaster we have to deal with, or some weird competition so he can perv on the gals again."

Laxus winced at the second option, but didn't deny it.

"It better not be the second one," Evergreen huffed. "But knowing him, it probably will be. So I'll put five hundred jewels on that."

"Nah, it's been too long since we all nearly died," Bickslow shrugged. "Five hundred on the world ending. You two sticks in the mud gonna get involved?"

Freed had stopped listening to their conversation moments before, and found his worries back on the sky. The full moon had been scheduled in exactly one week, and it meant trouble for him. He should be making preparations in case he lost control of himself; this was all a distraction. He should leave town, just in case.

His team looked at him in concern, but remained quiet.

As they approached the doors, Freed's mind remained preoccupied. A hand clasped onto his shoulder and jerked him back, and he realised it was Laxus. He frowned, only then realising he had nearly walked into Gajeel Redfox. The dragon-slayer glared at him, arms crossed to highlight his biceps. He didn't have much else than his physical strength, Freed supposed, so he had to show it off.

"Idiot," Gajeel spat at Freed, and Freed nearly scoffed at the hypocrisy of the word. If either of them was an idiot, it was not Freed.

Gajeel was walking into the hall before Freed could retort.

"God, who put a stick up his ass?" Laxus muttered as he shook his head. He looked down to Freed again, looking worried. Perhaps he hadn't believed Freed's assurances as Freed had hoped. "You need to go back? He ain't taking over yet, right?"

"No, I was distracted, that's all," Freed assured him, but none of his team looked happy. "I'm in control of myself. But I've got plans on how to approach the demon should I need them."

"Can we help?" Evergreen asked.

"I'll ask if I need it, but I don't suspect it'll happen," Freed placated them. They were still unconvinced. "You needn't coddle me, I'm fine. Particularly when there's apparently a fifty-fifty chance that the word is ending. Though, I'm putting five hundred jewels on the competition."

Apparently, the mention of gambling, broke the ice.

When they got inside the guildhall, it was more crowded than normal. All the tables on the lower level had been taken, and as such they were forced to climb to the S-Class balcony and sit there. None of them particularly minded that, and they waited for a short while for the rest of their guild mates to file in and settle, drinking and talking as they did so.

Eventually, Makarov walked onto the stage and stood before the crowd of wizards. After a few shouts for them to be quiet, the room fell into silence.

"Thank you all for coming," He began after clearing his throat. "I'm sure you're all wondering why we're here."

"For you to creep on us," Ever mumbled, and Bickslow snickered.

"Fairy Tail is a guild with its bedrock founded on the principles of friendship. We work so well because we work together. Whereas other guilds maybe have one or two teams, we have many," Makarov explained, gesticulating as he spoke. "It makes me so proud that you've forged these relationships and implemented them into your working lives. Your friendship and love allows you to work together to fight harder and become stronger, side by side as friends. I'm immensely proud of you all, but as of late I've noticed a problem with your work."

He paused, and Freed rolled his eyes. Everything was so dramatic with him.

"While you're very good at working with your own teams, you sometimes struggle working with the guild members you're unfamiliar with," Makarov continued, as if this statement were a tragedy. "And sometimes your teams won't be available, and I don't want you not taking group jobs because your regular team isn't around."

"Starting to think I bet on the wrong side," Bickslow grumbled, taking a drink.

Freed found himself only half listening. Whenever Makarov made an announcement there would be a lot of preamble that Freed didn't particularly care to listen to; not when he had bigger problems to deal with.

Perhaps, if his demon did become more powerful under the moon, he could rune himself into a cage of sorts. That might work, though perhaps physical manacles and shackles might be more practice. His team would be able to help with that, most likely. They wouldn't be happy about it, but Laxus had seen first hand what could happen when the demon was allowed to take over without restraint. He would understand.

No. He was worrying for nothing. The demon was under control now. Besides, he should be listening to his guildmaster.

"So, to broaden your opportunities, I've come up with an idea," Makarov grinned. "For the next week, you'll be split into pairs that you don't normally work with, and you'll spend all of that time training together. These partnerships will be random, and by the end of the week you'll be fighting side by side in a tournament to prove how well you can work together."

Hm, maybe a distraction would work better than restraints. Makarov's idea was flawed to the point of pointlessness, but a week of training might wear his body out to the point his demon wouldn't have the energy to take over.

"And, I'm sure you're all thinking why you should care about this, so there's a prize set up for the team who wins," Makarov was grinning wider now. "Fifty thousand jewels!"

That sent a rush of excitement and talking through the guild. Freed found himself wondering where the money actually came from.

"That's not all. The fights will be ranked on teamwork, cohesion and communication, and at the end of each fight you'll get points based on how well you did," Makarov was running his hands together. "And the team with the least points will have to do a punishment, and the winners decide what it is!"

"Goddamnit," Bickslow mumbled, handing money to Evergreen. "Always about punishments with him."

"If you knew that, then you should have bet smarter," Evergreen laughed.

Freed ignored his friends, leaning back and watching as Mirajane brought out a large, ridiculous top-hat. It wasn't difficult to guess that this was how Makarov intended to randomly choose the teams; pick them out of a hat. Maybe Laxus was right and his grandfather was turning mad, but he seemed to be enjoying himself so Freed had no place to complain.

He would simply drink his beer, watch the chaos unfold, and use the oncoming disaster as a distraction.

——

Gajeel swallowed down his beer with a scowl on his face. When Makarov had called this meeting, he had known that whatever the old crow had to say, it would piss him off. When Makarov had made his announcement, Gajeel had been proven right.

A whole week with some random wizard seemed pointless. Gajeel worked alone, and only teamed up with people when needed. This wasn't going to work.

Fuck, it was such a waste of time! He could be doing jobs and earning his rent instead of fucking around with a stranger, trying to embrace Makarov's ridiculous mantra about the importance of friendship. Or if he wasn't making money, then he would have at least liked to relax and take some time to rest. He didn't want to make a new friend, he wanted to eat, sleep and maybe find a guy to take to bed. None of that would happen with some Fairy Tail mage hanging around his neck.

"Our first team is," Makarov began as he rummaged through the stupid hat he'd had made. "Juvia and Natsu!"

Dammit! Juvia was one of the few people he could have tolerated. The other was the bookworm, and Makarov would probably say them working together wasn't in the spirit of things.

Still. At least the salamander had to work with someone who extinguished his fire. That was funny.

"Kickass!" Natsu yelled into the crowd, standing up and pumping his fist in the air because he lacked self control. "We're gonna dominate!"

They wouldn't.

"If you'd like to meet up and discuss your plans then now's the time," Makarov stated, and Natsu was making his way to Juvia immediately. "And now it's time for the next team up," He reached into the hat again. "It's Evergreen and Lucy."

No loss there. Maybe he and blondie could have been okay, but Gajeel wasn't pissed the chance was gone.

Lucy looked up toward the balcony and waved at Evergreen a little intimidated. Evergreen looked resigned, but after some nudging from Bickslow, made her way down the stairs and started to talk to the woman. Gajeel absentmindedly wondered if the two had ever had a conversation, because they looked awkward around each other; painfully so.

Fuck, that was going to be him, wasnt it?

Maybe he could convince whoever he was paired up with to lie and say they trained when they just spend the week alone. But then there was the tournament, and the threat of some random punishment, and Gajeel had already been humiliated after losing the guild-wide race and having to dress like an idiot; it wasn't happening again if he could help it.

"Next up," Makarov reached into the hat again. "Bickslow and Gray."

"Fuck yeah, some eye candy at last!" Bickslow yelled, and people laughed. Gajeel rolled his eyes, watching as Bickslow leant over the banister and looked towards his teammate. "Wanna make a deal, every time you strip, I strip."

Gajeel could see Gray avert his gaze as if bored, but he was red in the cheeks. They were even redder when Bickslow tossed his shirt towards him, both men now partially stripped.

Well, at least he wasn't with that idiot. The two of them would be a mess.

Many other teams were announced, and Gajeel found himself more and more annoyed each time. The partnerships made no sense, most of the time their magics wouldn't compliment each other, and Gajeel knew that it would end in disaster. At best, half of the partnerships might end up having a fight with each other, and at worst people would get hurt because they just didn't work. How the hell did Makarov think this was going to work out?

Maybe Gajeel should have slunk out and not attended the meeting. He was running out of money for rent, and his landlord was a bastard just waiting to kick him out, so it made sense for him to get a job. Maybe if he left now he could avoid it altogether.

"And next we've got Gajeel," Makarov shouted, and Gajeel cursed. "And Freed."

Oh fuck no. Absolutely fucking not!

Gajeel was not working with that stuck up prick. A guy like that had clearly never worked a day in his life, probably grew up in a fancy ass house and only got into guild work because it was a trend to slum it with the other wizards. Everything about Freed - holier than thou - Justine screamed pampered brat. He would probably throw a fit if he got dirt under his fingernails. He was the damn opposite of a man like Gajeel, and he knew he'd struggle not to murder the spoiled shit before the week was over.

Could he even defend himself? He had magic, but as far as Gajeel knew, that only worked when he had time to prepare. Hardly practical in the heat of battle, and what would he do without it? He wouldn't have the balls to use his sword as a weapon, Gajeel was pretty sure of that, and he looked like a gust of wind could take him out.

Fucking dammit. The salamander was better than this!

He damn near walked out of the guildhall then and there, because he couldn't deal with an egomaniac freak for a week. But, as he went to move, he saw the egomaniac freak walking towards him, and he was not going to allow Freed to think he was running away. He turned in his chair to meet the man's gaze but didn't make a move towards him. Freed could come to him, not the other way around.

Soon, Freed was in his space, standing above him. His expression was as unimpressed with the situation as Gajeel felt. At least they could agree on one thing.

He looked up to meet the mans gaze. Freed was… taller than he thought.

"I think it's fair to assume neither of us want to do this," Freed said rather than greeting him. Gajeel was right, he was a dick. "And I expect that the way I train myself won't be the same way you do, so likely there's a chance we'll come to blows, so I have a proposition."

Huh, maybe Freed was gonna suggest they lie and only pretend to train together. Gajeel would agree, but make Freed squirm first. "Yeah?"

"If we went somewhere and tried to train how we both normally do, it would be an act of futility," Freed explained. "We have six days to work together. I propose that for the first three days we train however I wish, and you follow my instructions. For the latter three days, we train however you wish and I will follow your instructions. That way, we both get three days of training ourselves in a way we know works, and the week won't be a waste of time entirely."

Huh.

That wasn't what Gajeel had thought, but he could deal with it. He had to admit, trying to find a way that would work for them both would not work, so this meant he'd at least have three days to improve himself.

"Fine," He grunted. "But I wanna go first. You're gonna drag me to some library or something like that, and that's a waste of time. Might as well make it a rest day after some actual working out."

Freed sighed, as if dealing with a child, and Gajeel nearly kicked him in the balls. "If you insist,"

"I do."

"Well then, I'll see you on Monday."

"Guess ya will."

That was it, and Freed turned to go back to his table. Gajeel emptied his drink, then grinned. Three days where the asshole had to do as he said; that was interesting. Freed probably spent his life being pampered and spoiled, but not with Gajeel. Nah, he was gonna work. Gajeel was gonna put Freed through hell and love every damn second of it.

[artificialqueens]

Gimme Love, 9/9 (Miz Cracker/Blair St Clair) - Grinder

AN: Sorry for taking so long to upload! I've had a hard week but everything is fine. Here we are - the end! Wanna know something interesting? There was actually going to be more to this story. Like, we were gonna get more flashbacks from when Brie and Juju went to college. There they would meet Tatianna, who was a badass feminist. And she'd be the one to help Brianna with her glow up. But the story was already going on too long and I couldn't fit any of it in.

Also I was going to go down a completely different route for the story. If any of you have actually seen the music video for Gimme Love by Joji, it ends on a more darker tone. And that's how I was gonna do it with this fic as it was based on it. But I just couldn't do it.

So I hoped you guys enjoyed it. I know I didn't get a lot of reads on it, but I'm glad knowing it was recieved by some. Anyway, on with chapter 9!

Major TW's for this chapter: Alcohol, mental health discussion.

2020

It was the day of the pre-party. It was going to be held at my place. I was prepared for possible drunkenness, embarrassing moments, but celebrations of everything we had accomplished. This was something I had worked my ass towards for so long, and it was finally happening.

I smiled, proud that I had finally punched myself in the face (figuratively, of course). I opened my eyes and saw how easy it was to rekindle with Mom. I was scared about seeing her in a few weeks, knowing we'd have to talk about my issues. But I knew now. If I didn't, I would just continue to get worse and worse.

On top of that, the Ed Sheeran problem was over and done with. His team understood fully, and he was set to perform at the launch.

And finally, I would meet Blair again. And it would be different this time. I wouldn't be the shy, insecure teenager she had always seen me as.

However, despite all these promising signs, my smile dropped. I imagined this morning playing out entirely differently.

Jujubee would be the first person to message me. Fuck, she'd probably even break in just to make sure I was up.

None of that happened. I know one should manage their expectations better. But it still hurt.

After two cups of coffee, some soggy cereal and a shower, I tried calling her. It rang a few times but went straight to voicemail mail.

I didn't bother leaving another message. I didn't wanna freak her out.

I probably wasn't helping my case. She probably thought I was relying on her, that she was life support for me.

But that wasn't the case. I mean, I couldn't just stand up and be like, "OK later, bitch," after practically growing up together. How could I just let go of someone I held so dear to my heart?

My eyes travelled across the kitchen, at first only her disappointment during our argument, how I had never seen her so angry.

On the counter, beside the fridge, there was my memory box.

What would Grandpa say in this situation?

Remember how I would write things he'd say to me? Just little bits and pieces of advice as something I could hold on to? I gave it to Mom to put it away for me. It had to be in the box.

I stood up, the stool making a scraping sound along the ground.

But a knock at the door tore my attention away.

Why did I hope it would be her?

Well, because it wasn't out of the ordinary for her to come and visit in the morning. Maybe this was it. I was forgiven.

I rushed to the door with the slight fear that if I wasn't fast enough, I'd miss her.

I unlocked the door and flung it open, a smile on my face, ready to greet her.

5 people were standing there; the decorators. I tried not to let my smile falter as I let them in.

-_-_-_-

8PM and my place had never looked livelier. For my first time hosting a party, it didn't feel like there was much hosting to do.

It felt like any other party I had been to, a room crowded with people dancing or talking to each other.

The music wasn't too loud, so the disorientation wasn't there.

I held back from drinking with the fear of doing something embarrassing, especially around Blair.

My bathroom was still clean when I went to apply a fresh coat of gloss. Good. Nothing to worry about.

I made my way back downstairs to the party, crossing the barrier at the bottom. The only place off-limits to the guests was upstairs. I'd hate to think there would be some people who'd want private time, especially in my bed. It happened at college once.

After a small party in our dorm, I found a couple midst coitus in my bed. Never again, I had said.

"Brianna!"

My head whipped in the direction of the voice, every bit of hope I had inside building up.

"You look stunning." A raven-haired woman approached.

"Thank you," I said in more of a questionable form. My brain couldn't figure out who this was.

"My name is Raja. I'm a writer for Cosmo," that explained it, "I was wondering if I could ask a few questions for a piece I'm doing. It's on the most influential women of the year."

I wanted to say no in the case I missed the arrival of Blair.

As if she read my thoughts, she spoke again. "It won't even be five minutes."

She was right about that. 15 minutes it lasted. We were locked in my bathroom, the four walls making the place feel cramped.

She asked me questions about how I reached this level, my morning routine, and what I put in my hair to make it so voluptuous. And all the while, I just kept fearing that Blair had arrived. That she had searched around for me and left when she couldn't find me anywhere. I would discreetly glance at my watch, hoping too much time didn't pass. But around 5 minutes in, I didn't care for subtlety. Not that Raja noticed. The questions seemed endless.

When she turned her recorder off, she further complimented my outfit. I thanked her, inching my way to the door. This lasted another 3 minutes.

She said I was a tiny woman with a lot of heart. I held back from saying I was a tiny woman with a lot of baggage.

When I finally escaped, I searched the place for Blair, and when I didn't find her, the panic started.

"Did anyone come in in the last 15 minutes??" I asked the workers hanging by the door.

"Yeah, there were 2 people. And I've never seen them around work. Could be anyone, Brie." They said with worry in their tone.

"OK, was one of them a girl? Blonde hair. Around my age?" I questioned further.

They glanced at each other for clarification, then looked back at me and shook their heads.

"Nope. Just two guys." One said.

"Probably on a pussy hunt at their local party." The other said.

"Or dick hunt."

"Or both."

"Nah, how would they even get in?"

Realising this was not Blair they were talking about, I thanked them and excused myself.

So she wasn't here yet. That's fine. Probably just running late.

I gave in and had one glass of champagne. Just to calm my nerves.

And the last person I wanted to see started to approach.

Ed fucking Sheeran. He raised a glass to celebrate and thanked me for the hotel room we paid for. I said it was no problem. And just as he was about to suggest some pictures for his Instagram, I quickly navigated away.

But I was caught by another person who just so happened to be Joey.

"I am so glad you changed your mind about the whole Ed thing. Like...girl…" he sipped his own drink.

"Yeah, it was easier than I thought." I shrugged. "Kinda feel awkward being in his presence now, though."

"I'll distract him if you want. British guys are kinda cute." Joey smirked.

I tsked, cocking my head at him. "Joey, you didn't like the guy a few weeks ago."

"I never said I didn't like him." He smirked.

"I mean, you can try." I rolled my eyes, a small smile appearing on my own face, "don't expect it to go anywhere."

Joey winked and brushed past me, making his way in Ed's direction.

Setting my glass down in my sink, I made my way to the bathroom just to check my lip gloss. A woman couldn't be too careful.

Once inside, I felt cramped again despite being alone. Maybe it was the underlying feeling of worry from being trapped in the room with Raja.

I told myself to breathe but then questioned why I was even doing such an exercise. Everything was fine. Life was good.

Looking in the mirror, my gloss was fine. But I applied a new coat anyway, just a reassurance.

And upon leaving, I set out in search of Blair again. She had to be here, just somewhere lost amongst this large amount of people.

Maybe she found someone else to talk to. Maybe not.

I moved to the balcony, the cool night air a relief.

But she wasn't there either.

I sighed, wanting a cigarette or something. Anything to calm the rising panic I was feeling inside.

I closed the door and moved further into the night, peering over the balcony and out into New York. The twinkling lights were pretty. I took a picture and sent it to my Mom. And in a few seconds, she started calling me.

"Hey, Mom."

"Hi, baby. I just thought I'd see how things are going." She asks, sounding pretty optimistic.

"I mean... it's OK, I guess. A bit crowded at my place right now." I replied.

"You nervous for tomorrow?" I hear the mischief in her voice.

She believed I'm not nervous, that I was a confident, strong woman. But she was wrong. "Of course I am. I mean, we've gone through all the precautions, so it should be fine. But still…"

"Well, baby, I promise you, everything will work out fine. It's you we're talking about."

I smiled, trying to teach my brain to agree with her.

"I would say I'd have a drink for you, but I'm trying to keep away from it tonight." Even though that was a lie.

"Yeah, you don't wanna go do something embarrassing like flashing anyone or whatever." She laughs.

"Wow. I didn't realise that was something I did." I quipped sarcastically.

"How about Jujubee?" I could still hear her smile.

But mine slowly dropped. Fuck, I had no idea. Immediately I stood back from the balcony. "Ugh...yeah, she's fine. She's good."

I moved to the door and looked past the glass at the large number of people. Fuck, I didn't even know if she was inside.

"Am I gonna get to see a picture of your outfits? You two always look like the stars of a party."

"Yeah," I faked a small laugh. "I'll go find her and get a picture. I'm gonna get back inside, OK?"

"No problem, baby. Love you."

"I love you too." I clicked end call and quickly made my way back inside.

How the fuck had I forgotten about her so quickly? Not like she was in my mind that morning or anything.

Now I had to find 2 people. I rushed inside, looking out for both of them. I checked the kitchen, dining area, lounge, the bathroom. Fuck, I even checked upstairs in the case Jujubee was there.

But there was no sign.

Where the fuck was she? Where was Blair?

It was getting harder to hold down the anxiety. Was Jujubee right about Blair? Was this another instance of my childhood crush getting my hopes up and flaking out?

The next drink tray I saw, my hand went straight for another glass. Two wouldn't hurt.

"Hey, you made it!" I heard from the front of the room, by the door.

I quickly downed the champagne and practically ran for it, too afraid to miss who had arrived.

Just as my hopes were quickly up, they fell just as fast. It was just Alex, Joey hugging him at the door.

"Fuck...Fuck...Fuck…" I whispered to myself.

A third glass of champagne found its way into my hand, and in a matter of seconds, it was down the hatch. I grimaced at the taste now, feeling like I could throw up at any second. Was that all just the anxiety, though?

Another bathroom break, I was fixing my gloss once again, scared to ruin my makeup. My hands were trembling. Fuck.

It wasn't stopping.

Back out in the main room, I tried to scan the crowd, standing on my tiptoes to try and see past everyone. It didn't help much.

Despite the music and rambling chatter happening around me, I heard the front door open, my eyes shot in its direction.

I struggled to move past a small group of coworkers, trying to get a good view of the door.

I didn't even get my hopes up this time. And, of course, it wasn't Blair.

Jujubee was right. Blair wasn't coming. Once again, she had led me on to believe I did mean something to her and that she'd give us a chance.

My hand gripped my scalp, turning away from the door. I growled, "Fuck," which didn't go unnoticed.

There was Nina with a hand on my arm. "Are you OK?"

"Yes." I lied so quickly. "I'm fine. Just... it's a little crowded in here," I fidgeted with my hands, "Is Jujubee here?"

"Yeah, you haven't seen her?" Nina raised a brow, rubbing her hand up and down my bicep.

"No." My eyes looked around briefly. "Where is she??"

"I dunno. She's you're best friend." Nina squinted her eyes. She didn't mean to sound accusatory. I guessed she was more concerned.

"She is." I reaffirmed, even though now I wasn't so sure.

"If it helps, the last place I saw her was the kitchen."

"When?"

"Half an hour ago."

I rolled my eyes and groaned. "She could be anywhere."

"Girl, it's fine. Not like we're in a labyrinth. You'll find her eventually." Nina smiled, rubbing my arm again.

I paid her no more heed and hurried towards the kitchen in the hope I'd find her there. But like the rest of my apartment, it was crowded. I stood on my toes again to try and catch a glimpse of black hair.

But there was no sign. Stressed, a shaking hand reached for another champagne. Usually, my tolerance for alcohol was high, but right now, I was feeling it. I was wavy.

In my now weary state of mind, I decided what was the fucking point? Blair had 100% flaked, as per usual, and Jujubee was obviously avoiding me at all costs.

Nina had followed me, taking my hand. "Follow me."

I didn't fight it. She moved to the staircase, pulled back the barrier and let me pass through.

She ushered me to walk up to the top before moving no further.

Turning towards the crowd beneath us, Nina addressed the people with a raised tone. "Can we have your attention, please?"

The people went quiet, beaming up at us.

Nina talked about how much of a good night it was, all while the alcohol was taking me over.

My eyes scanned the crowd, in the final chance of hope, wanting nothing more than to see Jujubee's glowing smile shining up at me.

But I couldn't. Not because I had double vision. But because she was nowhere.

I squeezed my eyes shut, breathing hard out through my nose.

Nina put her hand on my shoulder. And only then did I realise that I had blacked out, missing everything she said. I blinked a few times, trying to clear the film that had glazed my brown eyes.

"But we all wouldn't be here without our leading lady." She smiled warmly. "Everything she's achieved, it's all brought us to this moment. Let's raise a glass to Miss Brianna Caldwell."

Everyone started cheering, only a few raising a toast, the others clapping. My eyes widened, feeling all those eyes on me.

"Hope you have a speech prepared," Nina whispered in my ear.

And me, being the queen of saying just 3 lines and quickly evacuating the scene, decided no. Fuck it. I had something to say.

When the crowd began to settle down, I began to deliver the messiest speech ever.

"Well, funny you should mention achievements, Nina, because, yeah, I'm standing here before you all, having done the impossible. But what does that matter?" I laughed, shrugging. "Yeah, it does matter a whole fucking deal. I mean, look at you all. You wouldn't be here if it wasn't?" I laughed awkwardly again, but as I continued, my smile began to disappear. "Well, sometimes you just want a certain someone to give a shit. And they make you believe that they do. Just for like 5 minutes. And it feels so so fucking incredible. It feels like...like you matter. You're not just plain old Brianna Caldwell. You mean the world to them…" My tone dropped, "And then...you realise you're the most gullible, unaware, stupid fucking idiot in the world. They don't really give a fuck about you. They don't see all the things that you've achieved in life and think…' Wow...What an incredible person.' They just... don't give a fuck about you."

Everybody looked confused, uneasy even, while others giggled. Glad to know I was serving as the entertainment for the night, and I was in the same room as Ed fucking Sheeran.

Then, as if some higher power looked at me with a shaking head, maybe my grandpa, there was a glimmer of light at the back of the room, a flash of movement. And my eyes were drawn to the source.

My heart stopped

There she was. Finally. Blair St. Clair smiling apologetically at the few people who were looking at her. They smiled back as they should. She was breathtaking.

And her eyes moved to where everyone else was looking.

Right at me.

Such a familiar feeling was falling over me.

Everyone else in the room. Gone. Like they just stepped into another world, leaving the two of us in this reality.

She panted, out a breath, like she had run to my place. Impossible, she looked like an absolute angel in her gold wrap dress.

Nina nudged me. I snapped out of my daze, reminded of the whole crowd of people looking up at me with confused stares.

Fuck...what do I say now? How do I backtrack?

"But...you know what?" I started to speak again. "You realise, you're just overthinking again. 'Cause, that's a very on-brand thing for you. Every little incident of the past has taught you to doubt that good things actually can happen to you." My smile was returning. "Because the people who give a shit are there. Because you've done the impossible. And they couldn't be happier to be part of your story." My eyes were moving through the crowd, "Do what makes the ones around you proud, and what makes you fucking proud. And don't let anyone or anything hold you the fuck back. Because you have a purpose."

Thank fuck for the fact everyone started cheering again. I thought I had fucking bombed that I would see a recording of the same speech the following day all over Twitter, along with comments about how dramatic it was.

But it was fine. I saved it. I smiled at everyone and hugged Nina, suddenly overcome with happiness.

"Fuck you for not telling me you were gonna drag me up here," I whispered in her ear.

"Well, if I had asked you in the first place, you would have said no, honey." Nina grinned.

We pulled apart, and my eyes went back to the front door. I smiled, expecting to see Blair. But she had vanished. Fuck, I hadn't imagined her, right?

I tried to carefully make my way down the stairs without tripping, ready to look for her once again.

And upon reaching the bottom, Joey grabbed my hand and pulled me close, "someone on the balcony requires your attention."

He winked, and the butterflies in my belly went mad.

She was playing games with me. Not a very Blair St Clair thing to do, but the thought excited me.

I hurried to the balcony, ready to feel that cool air on my skin, her warm body pressed against mine.

And just as I was passing through the doors, feeling the cooling breeze, I stopped dead in my tracks.

I froze.

This wasn't what I expected; seeing her standing there, only noticing how radiant she looked in her orange suit dress.

Fuck. It felt so long since I had last seen her.

But it had been only a few days.

"Hi, Juju," I spoke quietly.

"Hey," she inhaled her cigarette, looking out to the city. If she hadn't replied to me, I would have guessed she failed to realise I was even there.

I swallowed, my eyes glancing down to the ground for a moment. The alcohol in my system was telling me to just turn and leave her alone. She didn't wanna see me.

But my brain said, "you idiot, she obviously invited you out here."

So I moved forward, rubbing the backs of my arms nervously.

I stood beside her, not even daring to look her in the eye. I looked at her orange suit, how Mom would have adored it.

"You invited me out here." I leaned my elbows on the ledge, my gaze following hers over the twinkling lights of New York.

"Yeah, I did." She did offer me a cigarette, but still, she never looked at me.

I shook my head, declining her offer, "Why didn't you just come and ask me yourself?"

"I was dying for a cigarette." She breathed out a stream of smoke. "Also, I've already spent most of the night trying to find you."

I couldn't help but breathe out a laugh through my nose. I glanced at her and was glad to see the smirk appear on those lips.

"I've been trying to fucking find you." I continued to laugh, a crack to my tone, however.

She finally looked at me, turning her body to face me. Her brows were knit together, yet the smirk remained. "No. I," she stressed, "have been trying to find you."

"So...what have I been doing for the past...I dunno, few hours?" I raised a brow. "Did I take 10 hits of acid earlier, or did I not search this place from top to bottom?"

She gave me a hopeless smile like she knew there was no point in arguing. She sucked on the cigarette, offering it to me.

I gave in, taking it from her hand, my fingers touching hers with a light touch. Her eyes moved to our hands as if she was thinking about it too. The feeling like this was a moment we needed to remember.

I took a drag on the cigarette, passing it back. She looked away, briefly turning her gaze to the ground.

But I kept my eyes on her like I'd never get another chance. "I really miss you, Juju," I spoke quietly, almost through a whisper.

She looked at me again. Her mouth moved around slightly yet remained closed like she wanted to say something. But she couldn't figure out what it was she was going to say.

I reached out, took her hand in mine. She seemed taken aback at first. But as my thumb stroked against the soft skin of her hand, a small smile began to resurface.

"There are…" she paused, "things that I would love to say to you. But I just... I'm afraid."

"Is it bad? Come on, Juju. You can tell me. You can tell me anything. I mean, we've grown up together. We've always told each other everything."

She looked apprehensive before taking another drag from her cigarette. And stubbing it out in the ashtray, she turned towards me once again.

She looked ready to say it. Whatever it was. I didn't even know the words yet. But I could tell this would mean a lot to her.

The muffled sound of the many people behind the closed glass doors became clearer, amplified even. Jujubee looked in its direction. My eyes followed.

"Blair," I uttered.

She looked slightly taken aback like she didn't know how to react to seeing us.

Jujubee dropped her hand to her side, a small puff of air leaving her nostrils.

"Jujubee." A smile appeared on Blair's face as she finally approached us both. "I didn't expect to see you here!"

"Likewise." Jujubee nodded slowly. She glanced at me, and I reciprocated.

Before I could figure out her exact emotion. But now, she was hard to read once again. My brows knit together, telepathically questioning what she was feeling.

Jujubee looked back at Blair. "Talk about awful timing though, I was just leaving." Jujubee smiled back at her.

Blair's smile was disappearing. "Oh." She paused, unable to say anything else.

"You don't have to go, Jujubee." I took her hand once again, stroking my thumb over her skin another time, just to remind her of the tender moment we were just having.

She smiled again, but only now, I knew the true words behind it. She pulled her hand away. "Early rise, actually. Gotta get up and ready for the big day tomorrow, right?" She raised her brows at me. Then she looked at Blair, "It was nice seeing you," and then back to me once more, "I hope you have a good night, Brie."

She averted her eyes, not even sparing me another glance. The clacking of her heels was deafening, each step away causing something inside to sting.

"It was nice seeing you again," Blair said before Jujubee could make it through the doors.

I heard a mumbled "yeah, yeah," before Jujubee went back inside.

My gaze still followed her, watching as she navigated the crowd.

"Did she...seem off to you?" Blair asked quietly.

"Yeah," I said without thinking. "I just...I don't know what's wrong with her...I can't...work it out…" my eyes never left the door, hoping Jujubee would reappear.

And feeling Blair's soft hand in mine, I was brought back to reality. I looked at her, seeing the concern in her eyes. Fuck, what a great way to reunite.

"Is something going on?" She asked softly.

I shook my head frantically, "N-No. We're fine...I guess I'm just overreacting. Yeah, she's just been...really busy with everything."

"That's probably true." She shrugged, glancing at the door, "Well, actually, I haven't seen what goes behind the public eye, but I bet it's taxing." Blair was facing me again, her eyes widening briefly.

I let out a small laugh, "Oh, you have no idea." And only then did I get a real chance to take her in. The girl had not changed. Well, call me corny, but she only got more radiant looking.

"I didn't think you'd come," I spoke with a hushed tone.

"Sorry, I was late. I couldn't get a cab for ages." She gave a half-smile. "I guess New York really is that kind of place."

"Fuck, I didn't think about traffic. I could have got you a driver or something. "I started rambling.

"No, it's OK. I'm here now anyway." Her eyes looked me up and down, "you look great, by the way. Pink always was your colour."

Funny how the last time she gave me a compliment, I shut her down. But now, I couldn't bring myself to do so. "Thank you."

I wasn't expecting her to hug me, but she did. It was very welcoming. If I could rate it out of 10, I'd give it a 9. Why the missing point? Cause she pulled away too soon. I needed that time, just to soak up the moment.

My arm was still around her waist when she put a hand to my face.

"It's so good to see you." She beamed, the city lights reflected in her eyes.

"You wanna go upstairs? We'll hear better up there. And it's kinda chilly out here." I hoped she didn't find that creepy or like I was suggesting something because that was not my intention, believe it or not.

I almost jumped, the sound of her sweet voice dragging me out of the storm that was my inner ramblings. "What about your party?" She looked over her shoulder at all the guests behind the closed doors."

"They'll be fine," I said too quickly.

"Oh. Well, if you say so."

She didn't find that weird. Good. I finally pulled my arm from her body but took her hand instead, leading her into the apartment.

I ignored the side glances we received, too focused on her presence behind me. Still so in disbelief that for once, she hadn't flaked out. She really did give a fuck. Walking up the stairs, I only noticed how my vision had cleared. I no longer felt drunk. Had it just been a quick rush of nausea that left me feeling so weary before? Or had the shock of seeing Blair literally walk into my life again shocked me so much to the point it sobered me up?

"Here we go," I said quietly, welcoming her into the upper level.

"Wow, you got another living room up here." Blair's wandering eyes landed on the couch.

"Yeah. The one downstairs is for fucking business and parties. And this one," I gestured to where she was looking, "is for hanging out mostly, and…" Why did I have to be so nervous?

"Hookups?" She looked at me with raised brows and a smirk.

I laughed nervously, moving to the fake fireplace and turning it on. Why didn't I just say no? She probably thought I was a slut or something. "Sit down if you want. Do you want a drink? I'd love a fucking drink right now."

"Nah, I'm good. Thanks, though." She replied, sitting down on the sofa and relishing the feeling of it.

"I need some fucking water." I rushed to the mini-fridge and pulled out a bottle.

Turning back to face Blair, she was looking at me in confusion. "You OK?"

"What?" That was all I thought to reply with.

"You seem kind of…" she paused, trying to figure out her words, "on edge."

"I do?" My hands played with the water bottle.

"Yeah, you've included the word 'fucking' in every sentence since we got up here." She allowed herself to smirk.

Subliminal, Blair. I like it.

Fuck, I dragged my mind out of the gutter and practically rushed to the couch. "Oh, it's just...tomorrow. The nerves, you know." I sat on the other end of the sofa, took a gulp of water and made myself comfortable.

Blair turned to face her body towards me. "Am I wrong, or was Ed Sheeran downstairs??"

"Yeah, he was. It's kind of a long story, actually." I laughed. "You a fan?"

"No, not really," Blair replied.

"Good, me neither. Not really into the whole wedding dance song vibe."

"Me too." She groaned, "If I hear Thinking out loud at another wedding, girl, I'm just...I dunno."

"I get it. 100%"

"Well, enough about him," Blair sat up straight, a bright smile on her face. She laughed for a moment before even speaking, "Fuck, I was just about to ask what you've been up to." She gestured a hand around the room, "I mean, duh."

"Yeah," I returned the laugh, "It's pretty much just that. This project has taken up most of my life over the years."

"God, I remember reading in the paper...fuck, I can't remember the exact title. It was this tiny article just squashed into a corner. 'Scientist seeks to prove the existence of other realities.' Yeah, it was something like that. And…" She shrugged, "I just knew it was you. And, I knew you'd go far."

I felt the blush creep onto my skin. Hearing this from Blair felt otherworldly.

"I mean, I knew before. When you told me at Prom, I knew you'd be able to do it." She added.

"How did you know?" I asked.

"Just hearing how you talked about it. Like, you really believed in yourself. It made me believe too." She swapped around the legs she crossed.

"It was hard. Trying to get people on board with everything. Not a lot of people believed it was even possible in the beginning." I unscrewed the cap from the bottle of water. "And now look at me; I got the government behind this whole thing." I shrugged and took a sip of the water. Before she could go on, I took the conversation on another route. "But what about you? Where are you in life?"

I knew where she was in life. Hadn't I Facebook stalked her not too long before?

"Well, it sounds far fetched, but I'm trying to get into the music scene." Blair sat back in her seat, eyes wandering off, looking at nothing in particular.

"You always did like performing," I noted. "Starting out in the school playgrounds. Soon you'll be playing an Arena with a sold-out show."

Did I sound cheesy? Was I too much of a kiss ass? Because to me, this was honesty. I always thought Blair had the potential to be a famous singer. She had the voice, the looks, style and personality. Who wouldn't want her as part of their label?

Fuck, it only hit me that I could have gotten her a spot to perform at the event.

Blair had stood, a small sigh emitting her lips. "An Arena? Imagine that." She smirked for a moment, stepping away from the couch. For a hot second, I thought I had stepped on territory I shouldn't have, and she was leaving. But she made her way to the window, staring out over New York. So I naturally went too. "Well, I've just been singing around bars for a while now, even had 2 gigs. Nothing too amazing." She explained. "I mean, I know you say Arena and all, but, actually, I wouldn't wanna be that big. I just...want people to hear my music."

Her smile faltered somewhat, and it spoke volumes. It wasn't happening fast enough for her, the growing number of ears that would someday listen to her words. She wanted it all now.

I sidestepped a bit closer. My fingers were so close to brushing against hers, then stopping myself in realising that was too much. "It does take time, these things. I mean, I didn't get here overnight. It will happen, Blair." She flashed me a gracious smile, and I was glad she didn't find any of that condescending. That was not my aim. "Anyway, I'd love to hear your music."

"You would?" Blair cocked her head to the side, turning more to face me, her hand on the window cill closer to mine.

"Of course," I reply. She should've known that anyway.

"Well, I'm not gonna break out into song for you right now. But I have a few videos on my Facebook. You should add me." She suggested.

I had never opened Facebook so fast. "There. I sent you a request." I scrolled through her timeline, my back now to the window, "Lemme see."

"Oh, God. Please don't. Not right now." Blair panicked.

I lifted my gaze, my eyes almost wide. Blair St Clair, the girl who wasn't hesitant to approach a mic, was embarrassed. I found this to be adorable and oddly made me feel more relaxed. "Don't be shy, Blair. I'm sure they're great."

"Brianna, don't." No joke, Blair attempted to snatch my phone away like a child.

I found it highly amusing. "Why not?" I smiled mischievously.

Blair continued her protests, trying to swipe at the phone more and more, all while laughing nervously.

Eventually, my teasing led to a chase. I still scrolled her Facebook as I ran around the room, Blair behind me.

"Which one should I look out for?" I stood at one end of the couch.

Blair stood at the other end, letting out a pant. "Brianna, you better not."

I stepped to the right, throwing her off, and she ran to her left, ready to run straight at me and take the phone out of my hand.

But I tricked her. When I took that step to the right, I pulled back and moved to the left instead. And without thinking, I threw myself down on my bed.

Before I could even get up, Blair was already there, too, crawling towards me. She reached for my phone, still pleading with me to stop.

And finally, giving the current circumstances, I gave in. "OK, OK. You win. I won't play your music in front of you." I giggled mischievously, shuffling so my back was against my headboard. "You're gonna have to remind me to check it out, though."

Blair remained at the bottom of my bed, kicking her heels off and folding them like a pretzel. It was as if we were teenagers again, catching up on all the hanging out we never got to do. She fluffed out her hair, "God, Brie, I came here to have a good time. Not to work out. Why are you still looking at your phone?"

Now that I was on her profile, scrolling back to the top, I saw a familiar picture. "Wow, this George guy's kind of cute."

Blair smiled warmly, her eyes looking upwards. And I had the slightest sinking feeling she was about to tell me this was her fucking lover or husband.

"Ah...George. What a guy." Blair blinked. "He does music too. If you like my stuff, then you'll like his too. He's got this song Gimme Love. It's my favourite."

"Is he your boyfriend?" There was no hesitation in asking.

Her brows briefly crossed. "What? No. He's one of my closest friends. Really helping me find places to perform. He's just...really cool."

I mouthed a silent 'Oh' before going on and cocking my head to the side, "Do you have a boyfriend?"

Was it normal to ask shit like this? Maybe it was. But considering I had confessed to her I liked her very much in that accidental message, perhaps I shouldn't have said it at all. Didn't want her getting sus.

I got the feeling she knew I was trying to find a way in as she raised a brow at me, the corners of her mouth turning upwards. "Nah, Brie. I'm done with boys."

I lowered my phone. That could have meant anything;

She was strictly into girls;

She had just gotten out of a bad relationship with someone, and she was going through that typical 'men are trash' phase;

She used the term 'boys' when referring to immature fuck boys who still thrived in toilet paper bombing people's houses and still fought with feminists online. She was now looking for 'a real man' who would love and respect her.

She wasn't speaking, just lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Before the silence could go on and get awkward, I shifted in my own spot. "Do you wanna elaborate on that?"

"Oh. Yeah, if you want to hear it." She said like she didn't want to, and before I could stop her, she went on, "Well, the last was Conrad. He cheated on me. Before him, there was Ethan. I found out he'd talk shit about me to all his meathead buddies, said that my ass wasn't big enough. Then Bryce with his superior attitude. And…" she sighed, "Fucking Trevor."

Just hearing his name did something to me. I could feel how my shoulders had tensed, how the breath got stuck in my throat for a moment. But my ability to talk was unaffected because I spoke up, "I remember you saying he was controlling." I moved away from my headboard, shuffling closer to her, so close she could have put her head in my lap if she wanted.

Blair nodded, "he was," she breathed out a sigh, "I can't believe I'm even admitting this, but after high school, I started seeing him again. He promised me he would change, that things would be different. And I always feel like such an idiot for believing him."

That was upsetting. My hand squeezed in a fist. "So, what was the final straw? The thing that made you end things for the last time?"

Blair took in a deep breath, rolling over onto her front and propping her head upon her hands. She looked up at me with sad eyes. "He was just the same, Brie. Always controlling me, telling me how to act, who I could and couldn't hang out with. He was like that from the beginning to the end. I mean, you remember how he reacted about that one sex-ed class? And that time, he yelled at me in front of everyone for not sitting with him at lunch one day?"

I had no idea about the last thing. And I wasn't even surprised. Trevor was that type of guy, and you just knew it within the first few minutes of meeting him.

I was curious to know, but I kind of already had a feeling. Yet, I needed clarification. "Is that why you never came back to the library? Because he knew people would talk if you were seen with the school loser?" She leaned up now, but I continued. "Is it why you never came to speak to me about the prom?"

Blair was just watching me in silence. But I could see it, the realisation in her face.

"Fuck." She sat up and moved closer to me. "Oh my gosh, Brianna. I am so sorry. I had...no idea it would hurt you." We were both face to face, and she put her hands on mine, her eyes apologetic. She cussed, briefly looking away. "Fuck, I knew you hated me. The years of silence, of course, you did."

"Wait, no. Stop. I'm sorry. I don't wanna make you feel like a bad person. That's not what I wanted to do." I said profusely, my hands tightening just slightly.

"No, no. I'm sorry. You have every right to be upset." She spoke quietly, her blue eyes pleading with me. "Just be honest with me. I owe you that. You deserve to be heard."

"Really, Blair, it's fine. It's - -"

"Brianna. You're upset. You're not really good at hiding it, no offence." She smirked at the last comment. But the smile disappeared, and she waited for my response.

I stared back at her, my gaze shifting between both those eyes. My mind debated what to do, refuse to say a thing and let it all continue to build up. Or vent years of pent up emotions that needed to be said.

I looked away, deciding the latter decision was probably the best. I really didn't want to, what with the risk of upsetting her.

But maybe she wouldn't.

But maybe she would.

But maybe…

Her hand left mine and swept a strand of hair away from my face. I didn't even know it was there. "You're really hurt, Brie," she spoke softly.

I looked back to her finally, her hand lowering back down. And I finally found my voice. "OK." I shifted in my spot, highly uncomfortable. Come on, Brie. Just tell her.

"Do you remember the prom? When you asked me how we never talked more?" Just say it. "Because I always felt inadequate. Like I wasn't enough for you. And, not just you, even my…" I paused, feeling the lump form in my throat, "...my parents. Ummm…" saying that out loud to her, it hit differently. My voice was cracking. "I always associated you with my parents. I don't know where the connection came from, and I know now that that's fucked up, and I know I probably should go to a therapist about that, but..." I quickly explained. "But yeah, I just...never felt enough. Like 'why would Blair the cheerleader want to associate with someone like me? How could Blair ever love someone like me??'"

Fuck, it just slipped out. I studied her face for a reaction, expecting her to back away.

But she didn't. She just nodded in understanding, squeezing my hand reassuringly.

"But, um...I know now. It wasn't that you didn't care. It was just...fucking Trevor." I practically growled that name.

Blair breathed out a laugh, rolling her eyes. "Fucking Trevor."

"Yeah, fuck that asshole," I allowed myself to smile before continuing on. "I just... didn't understand how hard that actually was for you."

"It was very hard. God, it bothered me so much because I really did have a soft spot for you, Brianna. I really did, ever since we were kids." Blair smiled warmly. "And that's why I'm so glad you replied to my message. After all these years."

I gulped, thinking about that damn message, and now seeing her loving smile. "Y-You didn't think it was weird?"

Blair sighed, yet her smile remained. "Brianna. Do you think I'd be sitting here if it was?" She moved her hand to my elbow, up my shoulder, caressing my cheek gently.

I almost said something. I couldn't even remember what it was. Not that it mattered because I didn't get the chance. The moment I had been waiting for, it was happening. Her face was moving closer to mine, eyes slowly closing. And as soon as I felt her lips brush against mine, the feeling of her touch caused the butterflies in my stomach to flutter. I closed my own eyes and accepted what was happening.

The kiss my teenage self craved, dreamed about even.

It was reality.

We hadn't just slipped into some other world.

This was real life. The feeling of her hand on my cheek, that was real. The butterflies in my stomach fighting against the walls, also real.

And how I lifted my hand and held her face, also real.

She pulled away first, but her lips were still close, "was that OK?"

"Yeah," I moved my face back towards hers, initiating another kiss. I was savouring every bit of this moment. The sweet taste of her was too much to not let go of.

But she pulled back again, letting herself fall back against the mattress. I stared at her for a few seconds. Fuck, this was happening. Something inside me was hesitant to do this. The nerves, the fear of not being enough for her.

Blair reached out for my hand, and I knew I was just overthinking again. I took her hand and allowed her to pull me down to her.

Lowering my face to hers, I kissed her again, more hungrily this time. For a second, I didn't know where to go from there, still so in disbelief that my luck had turned around.

When I pulled away, my hand travelling down the side of her face. "Oh my God...is this real?"

"Of course it is." Blair giggled, her hands roaming up and down my back.

"OK. Good!" I panted, moving my kisses to her cheek, then her neck, and I could feel my heart beating a bit faster.

But because I am Brianna Caldwell, the most awkward person to have ever lived, I had to go on with the questions. "Hey, Blair, can I ask you something?" I kept my lips where they were.

"Mhmm?" She purred when I kissed that point where her neck met her shoulder. The pathetic noise she made almost made me melt, I swear to God.

"Were you…" come on, Brie, just say it, "were you gonna kiss me at the prom?"

She chuckled, "Yeah. But Trevor had to be an insecure loser."

I appreciated the cute giggling sound she made.

I lifted my head away from her skin and leaned up. I looked at her with a raised brow.

Blair was smiling still, but I knew she was getting impatient.

"So...you like-liked me back then too? Even when I was ugly?" I asked.

"Brianna, you were never ugly." Blair's brows connected, a hand stroking up and down my side. She really was getting needy. "And yes. I always like-liked you. God, that's so cute. You still say like-like." She took my hands and guided them to the knot tight at the side of her wrap dress.

"Shut up. Fuck, you're so beautiful." My hands began to untie the knot while I lowered my face and kissed along her clavicle and the only bit of exposed chest I had access to.

"Fuck. If only you knew how long I wanted this." Blair mewled. "I didn't think this was ever gonna happen. Even when I saw you and Juju out on the balcony, I was like...fuck. I'm too late."

Confusion immediately took me over. I pulled back again, looking down at her. A brief flash of frustration appeared on her face, but I ignored it. "Wait. What?"

"Yeah, I just…" Blair looked away for a moment as if debating on continuing or not, "always saw how you were around her. Always so happy. Like you were on top of the world. And I just didn't want to get in the way of that."

Her hand was trailing along my thigh, but I ignored it.

"Wait...Jujubee?" I knew that's who she was talking about, but even the sound of her name, it made something inside hurt. Not a hurt that she caused. Something...so different yet familiar at the same time.

"Yes. I never saw you that happy around anyone else…" Blair leaned back, balancing against my propped knees. "I mean, the prom? The way you looked at me, it was nothing compared to when you're with her. With Jujubee, it was...always so different."

Realisation dawned on me. I knew what she was getting at.

I opened my mouth to speak, ready to say I didn't like Jujubee in that way. But the words wouldn't surface. No matter how much I willed myself, I just couldn't. Even the thought of saying it made that feeling of hurt feel 10 times worse.

"You OK?" Her fingers danced around my thigh again, only with more wanting now.

"But…" I began, "I gave you my Valentine's card in first grade."

Now she was silent, her gaze shifting between both my eyes. She leaned up on both elbows, realising my questions weren't going to stop, and her pussy wasn't going to be eaten any time soon. She gave a nervous laugh, "um, no. You gave it to Jujubee."

I squinted my eyes. "No. I gave it to you, Blair."

"Girl, you gave it to me, and when I asked if it was mine, you shouted at me, saying it was for Juju and you just wanted me to check it out." She was laughing again. But seeing my still confused face, her smile began to drop. "You don't remember that?"

I was silent for a moment. Blair was in front of me, the love of my life, but all I could see was the image of Jujubee in my head. Her perfect little face, the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when she laughed, that bright smile, her silky black hair that always smelt so good.

I thought back, all the way back to that specific Valentine's Day. I remembered handing the card to Blair, her confused face, how the kids snickered as I stood there feeling sorry for myself. And Jujubee shouting at them all for making jokes.

But that was all.

"I... don't remember that," I spoke quietly, my eyes squinted.

"Not even the card she gave you?"

My eyes widened at that. "She did what?"

"Yeah, she gave you a card."

Now that she mentioned it, there was a flicker of an image in my head; something pastel pink. My tiny painted fingers holding a heart shape. Baby Brianna smiling, only to lift her head and see the other kids making fun.

"Oh, shit…" I whispered. I climbed off Blair and got up from the bed.

I was on the verge of pacing, my hand in my hair, "Oh my God."

"Don't be embarrassed, Brie." Blair was fully sat up in the bed now, her legs spread as if trying to beckon me back. "Not a lot of people can remember so far back."

I needed to prove if this was real or not. I'd call Jujubee. But then again, would she have even answered? If what Blair was saying was true, that explained why Jujubee was behaving the way she was. She was hurt. She was pissed because I didn't remember her card.

But how the fuck could I have forgotten something like that? All my life, that was all I ever wanted - to know I was loved by someone. Such a memory like that…

"Brie, are we...you know...gonna…" Blair spoke quietly.

My eyes widened. A memory like that. A memory that would be worth keeping.

I turned to face her. "Blair, wait here. I'll be right back."

"OK. Sure." Blair blinked a few times.

I wasted no time rushing downstairs. Taking a moment to observe the crowd, it seemed, quite a few guests had left already. At least it would make it easier to navigate.

I made my way to the kitchen. The memory box was still there. For a millisecond, I feared someone would have stolen it.

I took it to the counter, no one was around, so I felt safe enough to open it.

My nerves were wrecked as I lifted the latch to the box. I only had a small idea of the things that would be in here. Old photos, movie tickets, childhood drawings.

But I hadn't planned on opening it up so soon.

No. I needed to know the truth.

Opening it up, I saw a bunch of photos, tickets and pieces of folded up paper. I removed them, planning to possibly look at them at a later date.

The more I pulled out, the more confident I felt that Blair had got it all wrong. And she was the one who remembered things differently.

But there was a flash of pink at the bottom of the box. I gulped, pushing aside the scraps of paper burying it.

And there it was; A pastel pink heart-shaped card, 'Happy Valentines Day' writing in glitter gel pen on the front. "Shit…" I said quietly, pulling the card out.

Opening it up, I breathed out a puff of air.

'Dear Brianna, I know people in class are mean and say nasty things. But I think you are the prettiest girl in the world. Happy Valentine's day. Love from Juju xxx'

I could hear the younger version of myself reading it out loud, the insults from the other kids, Jujubee yelling at them because they were just jealous.

I put the card down as I realised Blair was right. And memories resurfaced, reading completely different.

That Valentines Day in which she refused to tell me who she had eyes for

That time she didn't invite me to stay for dinner.

How her smile would drop every time I mentioned Blair.

How I never danced with her at the prom

And finally, our recent argument.

It all made sense. Jujubee was in love with me. And instead of recognising it earlier on, I was too caught up with Blair to see it.

And what about me? How did I feel about her? Yeah, Jujubee was my one and only friend. She had gotten me through so much throughout the years. If it weren't for her, who knew where I would have been.

I couldn't pinpoint any time that I had thought of her as more than just a friend.

Well, maybe the times we'd lie in bed and just...stare into each other's eyes. Or the time she held me as I sobbed into her chest after the incident at the prom. Or maybe the times she'd smile, and it would brighten up my day. Or the exact day that I noticed how cute it was when her lashes fluttered.

Or…

My eyes met the heart-shaped card again, how the very sight of it made my heart skip a beat.

"Fuck." I ran my fingers through my hair as it was clear to me.

My eyes ventured away from the card, moving to the scraps of paper.

'Grandpa's tips for life'

My hand told me to examine the piece of paper further, so I did so.

At the top of the list, there it was. A sign.

'Go get her, kiddo. You've got nothing to lose.'

I needed to tell her.

I packed the box up and quickly left the kitchen, noting that a few more people had left.

"Blair!" I called, rushing up the stairs.

She was still there, laying in the bed, in just her white lacey lingerie.

I covered my eyes. "Oh my God. That was unexpected."

"Fuck. Sorry. I kind of had a feeling that would have been inappropriate." She asked.

"What? No. You're fine. I just... wasn't prepared for that." I stuttered, still covering my eyes. "Could you just...cover-up for a second."

"OK." I heard her say. "You can look now."

I looked back. She did pull the duvet up, but just below the wire of her bra.

"OK," I breathed out, trying to ignore her cleavage, "I think you're right about Jujubee."

"You think?"

"Yes," I replied before shaking my head profusely. "No. I know. You're right, Blair. I...I like her. Maybe even love her." Fuck, saying that out loud, it did something to me, "And yes, I liked you for so long, but you're right. I was always happiest with her."

I was expecting her to be disappointed, but she smiled. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

"What?"

"Go get her."

Grandpa's words reiterated.

"You're not upset that we're not gonna have sex right now?"

"No, Brie." Blair threw back the covers, picking up her gold wrap dress off the floor, "I already learned how to deal with it. Knowing you belonged to someone else." She wrapped her body up in the dress effortlessly, fluffed out her hair and turned to look at me again. "I know you're meant to be with her. So, go. Go tell her now before it's too late."

Despite this revelation, I couldn't help but feel like a dick. Blair was smiling, but I knew she had to feel some level of hurt. I walked towards her and brought her into a hug.

"I'm sorry for what I did to you, Brie," Blair whispered in my ear.

I only held her tighter, "Don't be," and I pulled away, my hands still on her shoulders, "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have ever opened my eyes."

I kissed her on the cheek, and she smiled warmly. I turned to leave, and before I made my way downstairs, I looked at her once more. Her hand was on her face where my lips had been. I was glad I could give her that one last kiss, just something to hold on to.

"You really helped me, Blair," I said.

"Good." She said graciously. "Now go."

The urgency in her voice only fueled my determination.

I was under no time limit, but I couldn't help but want to reach Jujubee as soon as possible.

When I was outside, I shouted for the first cab I saw. Thankfully it pulled over. I got in and pulled out my phone.

But the car was still.

"Go! Drive!" I raised my voice.

"Lady. You haven't even told me where you're headed!" The cabbie turned in his seat.

Fuck, I sounded crazy. How he hadn't thrown me out was beyond me.

I only realised that I had no idea where my destination was. Jujubee could have been anywhere.

The driver was still looking at me, his patience growing thin. So I barked out Jujubee's address.

He seemed relieved to be on the road again. Only then was I aware of the honking cars behind us. Typical for New York, but this was too much.

I found Jujubee's number, trying my luck at the chance she'd answer.

It rang.

And it rang.

And it rang some more.

"Come on, come on," I repeated quietly to myself. Relax, Brie. It's not like she's catching a plane to the furthest state.

The phone went straight to voicemail. "Fuck!"

The cab driver glared at me in the rearview mirror.

I ignored him and tried again. Still nothing.

A few minutes passed, and I tried once more. But again, my luck was shit on.

I dropped my hands to my lap, sighing frustratedly. All I could do was just see if she was home.

My eyes trailed to beyond the window, just hoping to get there as soon as possible.

And there she was. Walking out of a pizza place, a solemn look on her face.

"There she is," I said aloud to myself before turning my attention to the cab driver. "Stop! Pull over!"

He came to a grinding halt. "Jesus Christ, lady! You really need to stop all that yelling and - -"

I handed him a $20 bill, "keep the change. Thank you."

I got out of the vehicle, eyes looking to where Jujubee once was. She was gone.

"Fuck." I looked down one path, not there. And looking down the other, there was Jujubee, rounding the corner and eating a slice of pizza.

I ran in my heels, people moving out of the way to dodge me.

I knew I was an inconvenience to so many, but Jujubee at that moment was my priority.

Rounding the corner, I saw she didn't get far. I couldn't help but bend over for a hot second, trying to catch my breath.

And when I recovered, I shouted out, "Jujubee!"

She turned, eyes wide like she had never heard my voice before. And when she saw it was me, her face sort of fell.

My hand reached into my bag, and I pulled out the Valentines Day card.

She looked confused at first, but then recognition settled in. And the disappointment was replaced with fear.

I stopped panting. And finally, I could speak. "You were right. Approval; That's all I ever wanted. And I thought that if Blair gave that to me, I'd be good enough. Because I never felt that. I never felt good enough. I wasn't good enough for Blair, I was never good enough for my parents, and I'd never be good enough for anyone."

Jujubee was silent for a moment, eyes falling to the pavement and then back up again. "You were good enough for me."

I breathed out. "I know. But I was...too caught up in my own shit to think about how you felt. Too caught up that...I didn't even think about how I felt." I paused, thinking of how the fuck I should say it. No, I didn't need to think. This wasn't some cheesy movie. "I...I love you, Juju."

She let out a breath, a shaky one like she was on the verge of tears. And her eyes became glossy. I really wanted to tell her not to cry, to be happy. But this moment, she wanted this all her life.

A tear slipped down her cheek, but she laughed. "Fuck, I got this fucking pizza 'cause I needed heartbreak food."

I returned the laugh. "Hey, it's OK. You can still eat it. It can be normal pizza."

"No. I'm not even hungry anyway." Jujubee admitted, passing the pizza to a random passerby (who was taken by surprise but accepted the free food anyway).

Jujubee walked towards me. I smiled, already smelling that sweet perfume.

But she pushed me back. "Fuck you for forgetting about the card. I knew you did. I always remembered yours."

"I'm so sorry. I don't know why I forgot. But," I paused, "Blair reminded me."

"She did?"

"Yep."

"Wow. She remembered. But you didn't."

"Yeah. I'm...really really sorry."

"Wow. Is this our first couple fight?" Jujubee put her hands on her hips.

"It could be. If... that's what you want to call us." I suggested.

"Perfect. Seal the deal?" She raised a brow.

I knew where this was going. "Oh, absolutely."

Jujubee stepped closer, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and pressed her lips against mine. And that unfamiliar spark coursed through me, like it came from somewhere inside her and travelled through my body.

And I didn't care for the fact we were in the middle of the street, probably inconveniencing others. All that mattered was the happiness coursing through me, the feeling of...being complete.

I pulled out of the kiss first. "Wanna get in that rocket and be the first to go to the other world?"

Jujubee smiled but quickly stopped. "I-I'm kinda unprepared. I mean... I'd need a toothbrush, my clothes..."

"Where we're going...you don't need 'em." And then I played the words back in my head. "Oh. Oh shit, no. Not in that context. I just meant... you'd get new ones, you know? Fuck, I'm terrible at this."

"No. You're just you." Jujubee laughed, and fuck, I adored how her eyes were crinkling at the corners.

We grabbed the nearest cab. When we told him where we were going, his eyes widened. It would be a journey. But we paid upfront, so the driver remained silent.

When we got to base, I almost cursed myself for not thinking about how we'd access all the areas.

But there was that mastercard. And they couldn't say no. They knew who I was, after all.

When we were in the gowning area, Jujubee and I helped each other into spacesuits. I was high with anticipation, ready to see what was on the other side, ready to do it all with Jujubee.

This was our dream.

Jujubee grabbed two helmets. One for her and one for me. She tossed it my way, and I caught it.

"Ready to go?" She asked.

"Absolutely." I extended my hand, and we made our way to the door.

The cold cool air was refreshing. My eyes travelled up and down the rocket. It was bigger than I imagined, and for a small second, I felt worthless. Like I was just Brianna Caldwell, a girl from a small town with no real purpose in this world.

But Jujubee slid her hand into mine. And I was reminded that all I had to do was shut my inner demons up. Because I did have a purpose. And I was something to someone. As long as I had her, that was all that mattered.

Jujubee smiled mischievously, pulling me along the bridge, leading me to the already opened door. She ducked down and climbed into the small space, and I followed.

It was disorientating at first, what with the rocket facing the sky. I feared I'd fall trying to get into my seat. But Jujubee continued to pull me along.

When we were seated, I wasted no time putting on my helmet and initiated the activation process.

I could feel Jujubee's smirk as I flicked at switches and pressed buttons. It only fueled my excitement.

A voice came through the radio, one of the engineers. We were bombarded with questions, demanding to know what we were doing, how it was too early for take off with no press to film it, all sorts of complaints.

But we didn't care.

When everything seemed ready to go, I put my hand on the lever. But before I pulled, I turned my head to her.

"Ready to see the flying horses?" I raised a brow.

"Just as ready as I am for the cats that bark." She breathed out a laugh through her nostrils.

With another smile, I pulled the lever. The ship was rumbling now, and my stomach was doing somersaults.

We both turned our attention to the sounds of protest from the engineers. They were livid now, shouting about how the media wasn't going to like this.

I lifted my hand up, flipping the source of the sound off. Jujubee cackled to my delight.

I put the intercom on mute. And the ship took off. Mom was gonna kill me for this. I'd definitely bring her back a gift. A new vase, maybe? Yeah. A vase from an entirely new world. Something new.

I looked forward, unable to see the ground below us. How high were we already? How long was left until we reached that crossover, the gateway?

My question was answered as the ship was illuminated by a bright light.

We did it, Grandpa. We did it.

[curiousconch]

Escape

Chapter 8 of Ricochet (An Open Heart AU)

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Synopsis: Heather attempts to escape her captors. But will she succeed?

Pairing: Rafael Aveiro x MC (Dr. Heather Song) | Bryce Lahela x MC (Dr. Heather Song)

Words: 1.5k+ | Genre: Crime, Suspense/Thriller, Romance

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / violence, language

Author's Notes: This chapter took me too long to complete, since I hit a creative block. Grateful for @eleanorbloom for giving me tips to overcome it (thank you! 🥰🥰🥰)

Thank you so much for taking time to read/comment/reblog this series. Please let me know if you want me to include/remove you in the tags list. Also, disclaimer: Majority of the characters are owned by Pixelberry, except the main character Heather Song and an OC Jordan Anderson.

Heather held her tears at bay. Frankly, all she wanted was to let herself go.

But she can't. She didn't want to give her captors the satisfaction of seeing her break. When Declan Nash removed her blindfold, he thought it was enough to pulverize her will. Heather was determined to prove him wrong.

"I'll pick up the second dose. Start on getting rid of the pretty doctor first," she heard Nash say to the other man, right before he left.

She watched closely as another man approached her, his features slowly revealed by the dim light surrounding them. The hair at the back of her neck stood up when she recognized the face of her kidnapper.

Jordan Peter Anderson, the Edenbrook janitor. Pete, as he was mainly known.

Suddenly, it all made sense. That's how he had access to her things, how he can easily know her home address, her schedule, all details of her life without suspicion. He was just another face in the sea of people that came in and out of the hospital. A fairly common and trusted face, at that.

She just wondered how Declan was connected to him. She wanted so much to find out. But now, she had to focus on preventing herself from whimpering as Pete violently dragged her to sit on a chair. He tugged her wrists free before slamming them on a metal table. She instantly winced with the impact.

That was when she saw the back of her hand, where an IV cannula was attached to an exposed vein.

What the hell was he planning?

She found the answer sooner than she thought.

She followed his movement with her eyes as he picked up a syringe from a nearby table. It was filled with a clear liquid.

"I take it you're familiar with potassium chloride, Dr. Song?" The janitor sneered as she gazed in terror at what he was holding.

She knew. Potassium chloride overdose can cause cardiac arrest when administered via IV, and in overdose, was fatal. Her mind raced with comprehension.

He's out to kill. He's not going to spare me. This isn't just a game. Her mouth went dry, refusing to accept the possibility that she may not live another day.

Her hazel eyes can only stare at the man who was about to murder her. For a moment, she was filled with helplessness, the tiny semblance of hope in her quickly dwindling out.

No! I'll overcome this. This won't be the end of me. She willed herself to think. Heather Song is one hell of a woman and she won't come down without a fight.

When he was just a single step away from her, inspiration struck.

As he reached for her, she leaned her head back, waiting for the perfect timing. Once he was near enough, she braced for impact and gave him a headbutt. He fell down to the ground, howling in pain. Heather took the opportunity to flee, liberating herself from the chair.

As she tried to take off, a struggle ensued. She was instantly dragged backwards, the force nearly knocking her out. She felt a sharp prick on her neck before she turned and kicked the man on the groin.

He wailed. Heather didn't wait for him to recover and ran for her life, fear and desperation egging her on. Her bare feet heavily hit upon the concrete floor, as she removed the gag from her mouth.

"HELP! Someone, please help me!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, sprinting. Her bruised arms pushed back against the plastic tarps and navigated the narrow corridor blindly.

Soon, she saw an open threshold nearby. She decided to aim for it. When she was almost there, someone grabbed her from behind, making her scream. She strained to break free from the hold, only to be pulled back again.

"Heather," a voice urged. "Heather, it's me!"

She recognized the speaker, making her stop in her tracks. She turned around and looked back into the dark brown eyes of the man in front of her.

Rafael.

At the sight of him, an overwhelming sense of relief flooded her being. She leaned onto him, feeling his strong presence encapsulate her in a tight embrace.

As the panicked adrenaline to fight for her life slowly dissipated, a rush of tears stained Heather's cheeks like an overflowing dam. So she clung to him, convincing herself that she wasn't imagining him and that her whole ordeal has ended.

"It's okay, love. I'm here, you're safe." Raf whispered, his lips kissing the crown of her head.

But she wasn't.

She felt her knees begin to buckle, her whole body shook. There was a sharp pain in her chest, while her vision of Rafael slowly blurred.

The last thing she could remember was the gentleness of his touch, before her world whirled and faded into darkness.

***

He can only watch the helicopter that airlifted Heather to Edenbrook Hospital. When she was found, a syringe was stuck on her neck, and the paramedics suspected a type of poisoning. Her sudden collapse and the  unknown nature of what caused made the situation urgent, so the response team decided it was best course to fly. 

Even though he yearned to accompany her as she fought for her life, he was hastily denied that right. Rafael seized that away from him, taking it upon himself to stay with her instead.

He wanted to be the first person she sees when she wakes up, to hold her hand, to assure her that she will never have to face horrors like this anymore. But fate wasn't on his side this time. It never was. 

So Bryce chose action. He first called in ahead to give Dr. Ramsey the few details they have on hand. He couldn't bring himself to follow her to the hospital. His mind dictated that he wasn't useful there. Instead, he made himself useful somewhere else. 

And there he was, standing in the middle of the crime scene as he hang up his phone. 

Here is where I can help Heather, he thought. I have to find what was in that syringe. It might be her only hope. 

His tired eyes scanned the floor, trying to pick up any detail that may be valuable. He walked around looking down, flashlight in hand, determined to find just about any kind of clue. 

He winced when he saw blood. Heather's. His chest tightened, anger rising within him. That fucking sicko, I swear I'm gonna give him hell. 

Bryce continued prodding around until he heard a soft jingling noise, making him stop. It felt like he just kicked something. He knelt down and found a torn plastic case and a clear glass bottle. He put on his rubber gloves and picked it up, reading the label. Realizing what it was, he quickly dialed Sienna's number and waited for her to pick up. 

"Bryce?" he heard a familiar voice on the line, but it wasn't Dr. Trinh. 

"Jackie?" he felt an immediate pang of worry, hearing the frantic exchange of voices in the background. But he quickly shook the feeling away. He had to focus.

"I found something that might help Heather. There's a bottle of potassium chloride where she was taken, it's empty. I think that's what the suspect injected Heather with."

"Gimme a second," Jackie said. Bryce waited as he listened to Dr. Varma ask for Heather's blood workup from a nurse. "Her potassium levels are elevated, and she's in cardiac arrest. This makes sense, Lahela." 

"She's in cardiac arrest?" A lump in his throat formed, his grip almost slipping from the bottle he was holding. 

"Yes. But we're trying to get her out of it. Your intel's gonna help us figure the rest out," Jackie said, and he sensed her hesitation before he heard her next words. "She'll pull through. So quit yapping and get your ass over here."

The line went dead. 

It took him five minutes to scale down the building, get into his car and hit the road.

***

The environment in the ER was charged by the frantic beeping of the machine, signalling Heather's ongoing cardiac arrest. 

"We've got suspected hyperkalemia," Jackie sprinted to the doctors surrounding Heather's limp body as she got off the phone. 

"Of course," Dr. Ramsey nodded, as he referred to the latest lab results. "A potassium chloride overdose would've caused her coronary infarction. It may have also caused her temporal paralysis, making her lose consciousness. Do we have her weight?" 

"Yes, Dr. Ramsey," Sienna dictated Heather's latest weight to the senior attending, allowing for him to compute for the correct dosage for the prescription. 

"Calcium bicarbonate for the IV, Kaley please," the male doctor handed a piece of paper where he scribbled the dosage needed. 

"Don't we need to do haemodialysis?" Jackie stood beside him, as she prepared a tourniquet and tried to find a vein where the saline solution can be injected. 

"No, we aren't too late, the potassium haven't bound to the cells yet. Watch out for other symptoms though," Like a well-oiled machine, Heather's mentor gave instructions rapidly, taking the lead role in her treatment. 

The nurse went back with the prescription and Jackie setup the insertion. As the liquid began to flow, they waited and watched the heart rate monitor overhead. 

It took a few seconds before the beeping slowed down into a steady rhythm. There was a collective sigh of relief.

Heather Song just narrowly escaped death. 

Tags: @eleanorbloom @ramsey-lahela @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

[escapingpost]

Five Things Everyone Knows (Final)

Part 1: Five Things I Know About Cho Seungyoun 

Sequel: Five Things Cho Seungyoun Knows About You

Suggestive and language warning.

The kiss in the alleyway would have been the cherry on top for this mess of romantic comedy. It would be the turning point of the plot where the next few scenes were merely a fast-forwarded, shortened down versions of what would be to come with your perfect “friends to lovers” relationship.

But, you were hit with the reminder that this was not an actual romantic comedy and reality is much harsher.

The next day, you woke up from a text from yours truly telling you that the girl he was texting ages ago finally got back to him. They were going on a date this weekend.

Your mind went through different thoughts in a span of one minute:

Were the two of you that drunk yesterday? If that was the case, you would have a hangover. And Seungyoun? You were sure he was too busy making Hangyul drunk to drink himself.

Were you just dreaming? No, your hair definitely smelled of rain water and you could still almost feel Seungyoun’s strong arms around your waist.

Then, what the hell was this?

As if answering your thoughts, Seungyoun sends another text message.

younie: I smell like sewage right now. What even happened last night.

And with that one text message, you were brought back to the reality of romantic relationships in your twenties.

Romance was dead and so were your feelings.

NOT my best friend: Dumbass, how am I suppose to know.

“I can’t believe you did that.” Woohyun was currently hovering over Seungyoun on the couch as Seungyoun holds his phone out of his reach. Woohyun gets up and dusts himself off. “Have fun being lonely. I’m rooting for Hangyul.”

“Wait, Woohyun.” Seungyoun also gets up from his couch. “I’m sorry. I just, I can’t do it.”

“Seungyoun, what do you mean, you can’t?” Woohyun says trying to keep calm. Him and the guys did the most to get Seungyoun to realize his feelings, but when he actually does, it backfires.

“I don’t want to mess us up.” Seungyoun says, avoiding Woohyun’s gaze.

“You know the feeling is mutual, so why?” Woohyun asks.

Seungyoun takes out a few crinkled pieces of paper from the small trash in his studio. He takes the first crumple piece of paper and hands it to Woohyun.

Woohyun looks at Seungyoun weirdly before unfolding it and reading his chicken scratch writing.

I wish you happiness

It's okay if it's not me

I don't think I'm good enough for you

We're so different

Woohyun takes the rest of the crinkled papers and unfolds them.

Tell me you're tired of me

Tell me you're seeing someone else

For me, even just a little bit

To hate you, just lie to me

Woohyun stops reading and crumples the paper into its original state, “This is different from the last time. You know it.”

“We’ve been best friends for years. I just can’t risk that.” Seungyoun looks down, his fringe hiding his eyes.

And Woohyun could not think of a comeback with Seungyoun looking like he already lost the most precious thing in his life.

“You know, its true what they say about musicians. You are all creative, crazy messes.” Woohyun says with a huge sigh.

Which brings us to the first thing everyone now knows: 1) Seungyoun, for a fact, has slight commitment issues.

A week passes by after the night with Seungyoun. You try your best to avoid him, but he stuck to you like nothing had happened. Sure, it was only the alcohol that made him do it and the reason why he could not remember. But, he should take some sort of responsibility, right?

The day of his date with the girl, you went to a library to study for your classes, but the silence was worse. It only made your sad thoughts louder. Letting out a deep sigh, you run your fingers through your hair and leave the quiet room.

“Hey!” Before you could start walking down the staircase to the lobby, a familiar voice calls your name.

You close your eyes. You knew exactly who it was and he was probably the second person you did not want to run into. Quickly changing your expression into a neutral one, you turn around to him, “Hey, Hangyul.”

Long story, short: You and Hangyul did go on a date. You actually had more fun than you thought and he said he would call you back, but never did. When he did end up calling you for a second date, the two of you still had unfinished business. Seungyoun crashed your second date before the two of you could talk about it.

Hangyul scratches the back of his neck, a habit of his whenever he felt uneasy. Your fake expression was apparent to his eyes, “Do you want to go to a cafe? I hated the silence in that library.”

You said yes and maybe it was the fact you wanted to show up Seungyoun for being on a date. Or, it might have been that you believed Hangyul was a nice, decent guy so he deserved some sort of explanation.

“I just wanted to say sorry for everything.” Hangyul says with a soft smile.

“Sorry about what?” The warm tea hits your throat and it calms your nerves.

“Sorry about not calling you when I said I would.”

You let out a petty laugh, “So you did know.”

Hangyul moves in closer, “Of course, I did. I was just confused and needed time to think.”

You purse your lips, “Well, I’m sorry for taking Seungyoun along on our second date.” You look down at your cup of tea.

Hangyul plays with the straw of his smoothie, unsure of what to say.

“It was a dumb decision.” You add.

“Did something happen?” Hangyul carefully asks.

You shrug, not wanting to think about it, still looking down.

Hangyul takes a deep breath and lowers his head so he was in your peripheral view, “Hey, to be honest, I wasn’t sure if you were actually available.”

You are forced to return his gaze, his face a little closer than a few minutes ago, “What do you mean?”

“I know you don’t have a boyfriend.” Hangyul was now staring at you intently with a soft expression, “But, on our first date, it didn’t seem like you were emotionally available.”

And that’s exactly what everyone thought: 2) No one else was really good enough for you, but him.

The guy with cute dimples? You preferred adorable rabbit teeth. The talented vocalist? A high-toned voice with the duality of IU’s ballads and Flowsik’s rapping was more your genre. The possible future president of the country? How about the person who you trust all your secrets, dreams, and inside jokes with?

As exaggerated as it was, Seungyoun just started to infiltrate your mind with no invitation.

You gulp and slowly nod your head, “Sorry, Hangyul.”

Hangyul feels a heavy weight lifted from his shoulders and he gives you an assuring smile, “We’re good.” He pats the side of your head.

You return his smile, feeling ten times better.

"I’m not sure what happened with you and Seungyoun, but if you want, I’m meeting with him later with the guys. Maybe you want to come?”

Your ears perk up at hearing his name, “Wait, Seungyoun is hanging out with you later?”

“Yeah, Seungyoun and some other people from the Taekwondo club.”

‘What about his date?’ You think. ‘Did that brat lie to me?’ You add. Did you not just have a small monologue on how great he was?

Hangyul calls out your name.

You snap back to reality, “Oh sorry, why don’t you text me the address and I’ll meet you there?”

The night was a little colder when it was predicted to be a warm summer night. Mercury was in retrograde or something along the lines of a pseudoscience explanation. 3) Everyone just knew it was going to be an interesting night.

“You like to hurt your own feelings?” Dohyun scratches his head.

“Masochism. Its called masochism.”

“Yohan, shut it. Don’t teach him that.” Hangyul rubbed his temples.

“Well, at least you’re better off than Seungyoun. He didn’t even give closure. He completely made his whole friendship awkward as hell.”

Hangyul blows out air from his nostrils. He wanted to keep it a secret and was not planning on inviting you to see Seungyoun. It was his chance to ask you out for a third date. But, taking advantage of your vulnerable state was the last thing he wanted to do.

Yohan hands Hangyul his black jacket, “Here, buddy. At least look cool while setting up the two idiots.”

Hangyul turns to Dohyon, “Don’t you dare learn from Yohan.” Hangyul moves closer to whisper in Yohan’s ear, “Yohan thinks he’s some sex god.”

Yohan has an appalled and disgusted look on his face, “A dude grinds on the floor one time and automatically becomes the icon of greasiness.”

Hangyul receives a text message alert and stops their conversation.

soju girl: Hey, I’m already here. My phone’s on vibrate so just text me when you get here! Too loud to take a call :(

“Lets go, idiot three.” Yohan puts his arms around Hangyul.

hangyul: see you soon

You bite down on your bottom lip and pull down on the short black dress that you wished did not sacrifice to cover either your chest or thighs. It was one or the other. You furiously shake your head to get some sense in you, “I need a drink.” Or not.

One drink turned into two, then three, then four and it all went downhill from there. The last sober thought you had was the fact that you could change your social media addiction and put your energy in making a blog about the wonders of alcohol.

“Close her tab.” you hear a voice and the person has reached over the counter. That was weird because you only conditioned yourself to listen to one specific voice through a loud bass of music.

“Oh? Its my best friend, Cho Seungyoun.” your voice slurs and you see he is confused because he can’t hear anything through the music and you made no effort to talk over them music. Seungyoun quickly scans your state and has you wear his oversized bomber jacket. You do not put up a fight while he quickly zips up the jacket. “Am I your date for tonight?” You say with no energy or volume.

Seungyoun gets to eye level with you and smiles, “Lets go.” He mouths.

The unapologetic smile, his eyes that assured you that your were safe, and his eyebrows that drooped in worry made you furious. The alcohol spoke and made the decision for you, “Fuck that.” You push him away and stagger through the dance floor.

And Seungyoun never felt so awkward trying to keep you away from other people on the dance floor while still remaining a sinful centimeter away from you and that miniature piece of fabric people called a dress.

His eyes darted around to catch the glimpses of other people on the dance floor to make sure they knew you were with him. Just when he thought people were getting the hint, a stranger attaches himself behind you.

He quickly snakes his hand around your waist and pulls you into a secure hold, turning your whole body like a tango move.

You continue to shamelessly dance, not giving a two coins because all you could see are the blurry lights, your mind was still buzzed, and whose ever arm was around you felt too good.

No matter how much he tried, there was only one answer to your shenanigans.

If you can’t beat them, join ‘em.

Seungyoun brings you into his chest as close as humanely possible and lays his hands on your hips as you two dance. He can only catch glimpses of your face, but when he did see you through the club lights, the look on your face got to him.

Your eyes were no longer the awake eyes that he could see from a distance away. Your eyes were half-lidded and seductive. Your baby hairs stuck to the side of your face and your cheeks flushed pink.

Then, Seungyoun’s ears were blocked as if he had water stuck in them. Your mouth was moving, but he could not understand what was happening anymore. The loud bass drowns out any reasonable thoughts.

Seungyoun did not drink any alcohol that night.

But, he got the same sweet alcohol on the tip of your tongue and caught the same alcohol buzz.

When Hangyul left the club that night and did not get to see you or Seungyoun, it was already a given: 4) The literal climax of the story that everyone would know of.

By the time you were all partied out and the two of you got to his apartment, the alcohol high wore off, but neither of Seungyoun’s or your hormones did.

The conversation was said through messy kisses, but it went something along the lines of Seungyoun apologizing for being a coward and a liar. Then, you try to say something back, but whatever he was doing down there did not help you form a coherent thought.

It was the climax that happened in Seungyoun’s small studio, both emotionally and physically.

Finally, it was the scene before everything fell into place. At least, as much as reality allowed you to.

“That dress wasn’t going to cover anything.” It was the morning after and you did not wake up glamorously. It was a good thing Seungyoun always saw you like that and nothing about his feelings changed. He laid on the couch and watched you find your stuff that was lost in the hurricane.

“Yeah, but your sweater will.” You quickly slip into it a sweater that he left hanging on his chair and Seungyoun curses in his mind for being weak to the cold.

“Wanna get breakfast?” Seungyoun sits up and also looks around for his lost t-shirt.

“Not like this.”

“I can pick something up from the convenience store.” Seungyoun finally finds his clothing piled up on the side of the couch.

You two only had to be apart for ten minutes, but Seungyoun was running back from the store like he left a stove on.

Also, you had no idea what you were getting yourself into until Seungyoun drops the food on his small desk and starts to make his way towards you. Alert, you hold him back with one finger, which stops him for a grueling second until he picks you up like a bride and lays you down on the couch.

You always thought Seungyoun looked like a rabbit with his two front teeth. Now, he looks like a tiger creeping up on his pray (read: you). You were quickly reminded Seungyoun was actually a bear because he pulls you into a warm hug as the two of you lay on his couch.

“There’s not enough space, so we have to stick as close a possible.” Seungyoun is breathing down your neck and you were not sure if it was on purpose.

You stir in his arms and he looks at you.

The images of you two playing tongue hockey in the middle of the dance floor flashes through your mind and you wanted to dig a tunnel into the couch because this time, he was there to remember it.

Seungyoun bit back a silly smile.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything?” He says with a smirk.

“Hey, we can’t tell anyone.” You are talking to his chest because you could not bear to look at him without being reminded of last night.

“Why not?” Seungyoun, on the other hand, had no shame and kept his eyes on you. “I swear, I was going to post this on my story.”

“Seungyoun!”

He gives you his cheeky, smiling eyes and presses his forehead on yours, “I’m sure every already knows.”

“That’s a little bit T.M.I, no?” You ask him.

“Not with them. They know everything.”

The two of you look at each other both thinking that everyone was weirdly invested in the two of you getting together. You and Seungyoun laugh knowing the same thought went through your head.

“I like you so much.” Seungyoun unconsciously says.

“I like you too.” You say making random shapes with your fingers on his chest. “Hey, um.” You finally muster up the courage to look at him.

“Yeah?” Seungyoun gives you his full attention.

You gather your arms and push him off the couch, “I’m hungry.”

Even if you were not hungry, Seungyoun’s scent was getting to your head and all the red flags went off.

He didn’t have to know that, though.

Months pass and you two are still together and annoying.

“Can you not?” You step on Seungyoun’s foot under the table.

“What?” Seungyoun moves his hand closer to your inner thigh, but you swat his hand off.

“Can you two just stay in Seungyoun’s studio? Forever.” Wooseok pretends to barf.

“We would, but the AC is broken.” Seungyoun shrugs.

You smack him on the side of his head.

“I don’t even want to sit on that damn couch now.” Seungwoo slowly shakes his head.

“Maybe it was better for you two to stay single.” Yohan taps on the table.

“Hey, I’m all for that.” Hangyul chuckles as he opens a bag of chips.

Seungyoun’s neck almost breaks turning to Hangyul, “If you eat chips like that, your fingers are going to stain.”

“Well, I’m gonna eat it with chopsticks.” Hangyul retorts.

“Where are the chopsticks, genius?” Seungyoun mocks Hangyul’s matter-of-fact tone.

Hangyul’s eye darts back and forth, until he sees you slipping him the chopsticks. “Here.”

Seungyoun makes a face at you, “Whose side are you on?”

You give him a chaste kiss and the self-proclaimed all rounder turns into one thing and it was the fifth and last thing everyone knew.

5) “Whipped.”

[belladonnaandulriched]

the dead of night | chapter eight

Frank's point of view

Syracuse looked very different that afternoon, as did Rochester. I never really went out that way that much, but there was always something about it that struck me sideways. Maybe it had to do with Joey hailing from near there, maybe it had to do with the ghoulish blue and green neon rising up from the tops of the buildings, maybe it had to do with the fact it was its own thing aside from New York City, but there was something precious about it to me. There was a part of me that said Francine hid out somewhere in there, somewhere inside of that donut surrounding the outskirts of the city.

I wondered if she knew that I wanted to find her after she went missing, and I wondered if she knew that I wanted to find her even after the trail fell cold. The murder trail on my brother fell cold, but I refused to let it go cold on her. She was my girl, my first girl, and she was Hannah's best friend aside from Joey.

But on the other hand, she might have been up in Canada. The only explanation for me was that she went missing in Canada, and therefore she stayed in Canada. There was no way she hid out there in upstate New York. And yet I knew it. I just knew it: she was there.

I peered over my shoulder to the car behind us. I thought about Hannah and her friendship with Francine: all I knew from Francine's account was she met Hannah when they attended school together and they just gelled like they were sisters. Both of them had no siblings so it made sense that they became like sisters: they also both had it rough a bit in life. Hannah was the California girl relocated to New York and grew up feeling like an outsider until she met Joey in her second year there in Oswego.

Francine had parents who wanted to separate but they stayed together for her. She sought solace in the arts from a young age and when she and Hannah attended high school in Rochester together, she took it to an almost cathartic. I recalled when first meeting her after Hannah introduced the five of us to her, that she foresaw everyone in Rochester knowing the combined force of nature that was Hannah Ellsberg and Francine Moody. And it almost came to a point shortly after Joey joined in the lead singer position.

We all saw Francine's agony in her artistry and yet she almost always checked out on a mental level most of the time. Hannah wanted her to be her manager for that reason: she could mentally check out and detach herself from the dark side of everything, and get a handle on everything. A great artist and protective of her best friend in her artistry herself, such that she was willing to promote it. She knew how to hook someone's attention, and it came to a point where she could by using nothing more than her own name. Maybe it was her last name: there was something memorable about the name of Moody, like Belladonna or even Bello, my last name.

I had just barely met Nancy but that was my assumption, too: who else would leave Seattle for the East Coast for anything, and strike up something with Geddy Lee among other things? All I could assume was these three women were sisters bonded by art and the scars of their own pasts.

I thought about Joey in that car with Hannah. Speaking of gelling... the fact the two of them had been able to bond and separate several times throughout the years always made me wonder abou them. Best friends since childhood and yet they managed to strike it up on a romantic level time and time again. It was something I had always wanted with Francine, and watching the Rochester skyline emerge through the darkening rain clouds made me wonder if it would even be possible.

She was out there somewhere and I had no idea if she had any time left.

Nancy led us to the first exit to the southern side of town, where I spotted a couple of people walking along the sidewalk as if it was a regular sunny day there in upstate New York, even though the rain was starting to come down in sheets upon our heads.

“Is that Alex and Neil?” Scott wondered aloud.

“No way,” Geddy said; his voice cut through me like a knife right there in the seat next to me. I took a second look at the two people there on the sidewalk, who appeared to be shuffling about the dampening concrete like a couple of puppets. A couple of puppets in short sleeved shirts and cut off shorts despite the cold rain. I swore I saw a bit of the neon glowing out from their heads, but then again, it could have been nothing more than my imagination doing that to me.

We reached the street corner and that was when the rain really began to fall upon us; Nancy flicked on the windshield wipers and they squeaked with each and every swish at the rain water.

“Okay—now if I remember where it's at...” Her voice trailed off as she hung a right around the corner. She ran into a puddle which had began to swell with the rain, but it wasn't large enough to warrant a huge splash.

“Do you even know Marcia and Sonia are in today?” Geddy asked her with a clearing of his throat.

“Positive,” she replied with a glimpse in the rear view mirror at him, “otherwise, I guarantee we wouldn't be going this way.” I noticed Scott peering out the windshield for himself, even though neither him nor I had any idea as to what to look for. “I'm pretty sure it's here—oh, wait, hang on, Hannah's flashing her lights at us again.”

“Sew Into You!” Geddy exclaimed right then.

“Oh, good eyes, babe!” Nancy followed up as she pulled up to the next intersection to flip a turn. She pulled up to the curb and yanked on the parking lever, and killed the engine right then. The rain pattered on the roof overhead; I watched Hannah and Joey park up ahead of us through the streams of rain water flowing down the outside of the glass.

Geddy and I climbed out of the backseat at the same time and onto the soaked pavement outside; he bowed his head and squinted his eyes against the rain. Nancy joined us outside with the hood of her jacket.

“I forgot my umbrella,” he confessed to her over the roar of the rain. Scott climbed out and led me to the car up ahead to join Hannah and Joey. There was a little bright lit shop behind us: tulles of fabric rested in the front window; beyond that stood a rack of tulles of thread.

“This is that upholstery shop we were talking about,” Nancy said from behind us.

“Let's go in and meet Marcia and Sonia,” Joey joined in right then. He lunged forward and held the door for us. We were greeted by the smell of clean brand new fabric and lemons; indeed, I spotted a pair of girls near the back of the front room both donned in heavy dark sweaters; they appeared to be talking about something about those fat quarters on the table in front of them. The one on the left had a hot pink headband across the crown of her head to separate her bangs from the rest of her straight jet black hair; while the one on the right had a messy head of hair to accentuate her round face. They both looked like twins regardless.

“Marcia, Marcia, Marcia,” Joey called out to one of them. The girl with the headband turned towards us, and her face lit up at the sight of us.

“Hey, you guys!” she declared as she set the two fat quarters on the table before her. “I was hoping you'd show up soon enough.” The girl on the left turned towards us and her eyes twinkled at the sight of Scott and me.

“Who are these two good looking bucks?” she asked Hannah and Joey.

“Scott and Frankie,” Joey replied with a running of his fingers through his jet black curls. “Two of the dudes from my gig.”

“Oh, the amazing Scott and Frankie,” the girl with the headband said with a toss of her hair back over her shoulder. She sauntered over to us, and towards Geddy.

“Hello, darling,” he greeted her with a little grin and a kiss on the side of the face, “good to see you again.”

“How's Alex and Neil?”

“Back home relaxing.”

“Please tell Neil I said hi,” Sonia said to him with a smile upon her face.

“Oh, you know I will,” he assured her as he gave her a kiss hello on the side of the face, “but I don't know if he will, though.” He turned his attention to the rest of the shop. “I never really saw the rest of this shop, if I'm honest.”

“By the way, Joey?” Marcia spoke up.

“Yeah?”

“How's that little outfit that I made for you?”

“Needs to be cleaned,” he said.

“She made you something?” Hannah asked him with a grin on her face.

“A little checkerboard thing.”

“We could make you two a quilt,” Marcia told Geddy and Nancy, “if you wish, anyways.”

“You guys are looking for Francine, right?” Sonia asked Scott and me.

“Yeah, we're—we're kinda helping,” Scott filled in.

“She was my girlfriend,” I added.

“Your girlfriend?”

“Yeah.”

She nibbled on her bottom lip: she had these deep olive colored eyes that comforted me in the same vein Francine's baby blues always did. She then raised a finger at me and motioned for me to follow her. She led me to the right side of the room while Marcia talked to the others there; Sonia led me to a rack full of different types of buttons. She showed me a little packet of silver buttons about the size of silver dollars. I took a second look to see a vein of neon green inside of the four holes in the middle.

“Don't tell anyone about this,” she whispered to me, “but these are for fixing humans.”

“Humans?” I echoed in a hushed voice.

“They're special buttons crafted over in Schenectady. They're crafted so all the robots can stay within intact—at least, that's according to Lars.” She handed the buttons for me.

“Why do you think I should need these?” I asked her.

“Keep them just in case,” she advised me. “The way things are right now, it's best to go about well equipped.” I sighed through my nose and put the buttons in my coat pocket.

“The world's going to fall apart soon,” she said, “believe me when I say that, too. I'm just saying that right now—you're going to have to find Francine before it's too late.”

I thought about the pandemic, three decades after that moment of time. Like Scott, I had no idea what year it was, but other than the date itself. And yet, she could have been referring to something else.

Something about Joey having done something huge in Seattle when neither of us were looking…

Marcia called out Sonia's name and she strode past me to meet up with her. She left alone there next to the buttons, so I could eye the blue ones next to my knee. Baby blues, like Francine's eyes.

“I'll tear up the earth until I find you,” I muttered under my breath.

******************************

that final line is a quote from miguel hernandez's poem “elegy”