She's chasing her dreams, but has no misguided notions that she's entitled to a fairytale.

It doesn't matter, though. She's a smart girl, a sensible one, and she knows that you have to work hard for anything that you want. As time passes and she gets older and wiser, her number one priority has and will always be her sole dedication to staying herself; to refuse to change in order to appease others. It keeps her genuine; it keeps her happy.

It keeps her sane.

In a field that asks you to shed your personality and take on that of a character for the majority of your time, she knows it's essential that she always remembers who she was, who she's asked to be, and who she wants to be.

She's not Lucy Dunn. She's not a cheerleader and she's not preppy or evil, either. She doesn't spread rumors and she doesn't steal boyfriends. She's not thirteen anymore.

She's not Chloe Woods. She's not a high society girl with a criminal father who falls in love with handsome substitutes and doesn't notice the people around her.

She's not Jade West. She's not mean and she doesn't like black hair. She doesn't have daddy-issues or an abnormal love for scissors. She doesn't hate ninety percent of the people and things in the world, and she happens to love ducks and hate coffee.

And she most definitely isn't in love with Beck Oliver.

She's just Liz. A normal girl who's had great opportunities. She isn't friends with the entire world, and doesn't try to be either. Experience has taken charge of teaching her the importance of keeping the group of people she trusts small and close. She sings, she acts, she writes and she takes pictures. She still picks taking a walk with her brother in Central Park over walking a red carpet in Hollywood, any day of the week. She still believes that over life-long friends and almost-sisters, her mom is her real best friend. She doesn't look for perfect, handsome guys to date; she looks for humor, for compatibility and maturity and friendship.

But she still doesn't believe in Prince Charming.

Not even cute, Canadian boys with long hair and doe brown eyes.

Which coincidently happen to be staring at her at the moment.

"What," she questions him when his stare doesn't waver, angling her head sideways and widening her eyes to emphasize her confusion.

"What are you thinking about?" he questions, curiosity obvious in his voice. She doesn't know what to say, so she simply answers the first thing that comes to her mind.

"I was thinking you finally shaved that moss off your face," she teases him, smirking when he drops his mouth open in mock indignation. "I swear, two more weeks and you'd look like some sort of pirate."

"I happen to know my fans love my 'moss'," he defends himself, raising his tone in bewilderment and adding, "plus, Captain Jack Sparrow will forever be the coolest pirate of all time."

She nibbles on her oatmeal cookie and takes a sip of her green tea before answering in the most flippant way possible, "I don't know about that. I was always more of an Orlando Bloom kind of girl."

Of course, he laughs. It's loud and honest and the edges of his eyes crinkle as his brows furrow when his eyelids close and his face angles away from her. His hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail and strands are falling out of their hold. He's wearing dark jeans and a regular gray shirt and, for a moment, he looks just like the boy she met when she was fifteen and ecstatic about landing her first big job on television.

"You'll never get tired of contradicting me, will you?"

"Where's the fun in that?" she answers in a heartbeat, not hesitating to add, "You have thousands of love-struck girls hanging on your every word. I happen to be doing you a favor by keeping you on your feet."

"A favor?" he scoffs, lifting his hands and waving them in the air as he playfully bows over for her. Liz can't stop the laugh that bubbles out of her when he says, "Well, thank you for you never-ending kindness and humility, oh, Great McGillz."

"You know, I missed this," he sates, before leaning over to pull on a strand of her now-short hair. "Just us; hanging out like we used to while you take every opportunity possible to insult me." He takes a moment to think his words over, and scrunches his nose up as he realizes the absurdity of his comment. "Okay, I definitely spent too much time being Beck Oliver. Way too many masochistic tendencies, if you ask me."

"Ah, but you're not him anymore, you're Danny Desai now. No more angry on-screen girlfriends for you, it's all about the love now," she jokes. "So spill, which one's the main love interest? The brunette or the blonde? I have to be entitled to some sort of insider scoop as credit for putting up with all your hipster ways for so many years."

"Why, Liz, all you have to do is tune in to ABC Family on June 11th to find out."

"Jerk," she scolds him, but they both know she doesn't mean it. "In all seriousness, I'm really happy for you, Jogia. You've done pretty well for yourself."

He nods his thanks and sends her a smile. They spend the next half an hour making idle talk and catching up on the little things that have happened during the past few weeks. She tells him about her music and he tells her about his show. She doesn't mention all the rumors that are going around about her and an older man she loves writing music with, and he doesn't talk about his girlfriend, who's off rehearsing for her newest film at the moment. Of course, they matter, a lot, actually, but not today. Because today's not about everyone else, it's only about Liz and Avan, two friends talking and sharing a lunch.

It's when both their cups and plates are empty that he breaks their easy banter. They know that his break from filming is over and she has a session scheduled at the studio in approximately an hour.

Their time is running out.

He looks sadden for a moment, and she swears that a look of pure defeat crosses his features before an idea strikes him. "I have a proposal," he declares, and his eyes light up as his lips curl upwards into a self-satisfied grin due to his genius. "Let's both ditch our schedules for the day. We'll hang out in my apartment and you can show me one of the songs you're working on."

The feeling that thunders through her chest is not infatuation. It's joy, sure, but only because she's missed him so much. Not in the, I can't live without you way, but in the, you're a great friend and I never see you anymore kind of way. A part of her subconscious warns her that it's not a wise idea, but then she thinks that that's ridiculous. He's her friend, only her friend, and she has every right to spend time alone with him if she wants to.

"Interesting," she answers. "What's in it for me? You're asking for a lot, Jogia. You've got to sweeten the pot."

"I'll give you the insider scoop on my show," he bargains, and laughs when she only narrows her eyes at him. "And, I'll make you the greatest vegan and gluten-free dessert you have ever tasted. Guaranteed."

He knew her so well. "You've got yourself a deal."

He pays the check and ten minutes later, they're in his car. She messes with her phone and juggles with the idea of shooting another thirty second video of them driving in his beloved Falcon, but decided against it in the end. Even though she has officially earned her license, she can't bring herself to want to drive, and so, he'd picked her up from her best friend's house before taking her to lunch.

Twenty minutes after, and they're sitting around in his apartment. More specifically, she's sitting on one of his comfy leather sofas while he pours them both drinks, of the non-alcoholic kind, of course. When he comes back into the living room, he find her leaning back against the rest and tapping her fingers against her thigh as she mumbles the same phrase over and over again. Taking a seat beside her, he hands her the drink and rests his now-free arm lazily around her shoulders, sighing when she leans her head on his shoulder.

"Be honest, Gillies, how are you?"

Her breath catches in her throat and he body tenses next to his. "I'm great," she answers immediately. "I've just been busy writing my album lately."

"No, that's not it," he contradicts her, nudging his knee against hers. "There's something else, and you don't want to tell me. You know you can trust me with anything, right?"

"I know, but there's nothing wrong," she insists, before sighing and confessing the tip of her woes. "I think I just miss you guys."

"We're still here."

"But it's not the same. Victoria's all over the place, and so is Leon. Matt has his new friends and he's about as stable as a kid in candy store, Daniella has Andrew and her own stuff to worry about, and Ari's just... busy," she finishes lamely.

And thus, fear number two. They won't say it out loud, but they both know reality. What had once been a tight-knit group of friends was slowly fading away. They we're each taking different directions, following their own path, and those didn't necessary cross. She hates the fact that she doesn't want a couple of them to cross.

How does she explain that she doesn't want to end up like one of her best friends? Losing herself in a character to make her fans happy. How does she explain that she wants to be everything for everyone and nothing but herself at the same time?

"I'll be here," he tries to comfort her.

"Yeah, but you've got your show now and…" she trails off, subconsciously shifting away from him and swallowing down the lump that forms in her chest. It's not right for her to feel bad about him dating someone. She doesn't like him that way, she's sure. It's more than likely just the residual effects of playing boyfriend and girlfriend for so long.

"And Zoey," he finishes for her.

She's a lovely girl, really, she is. She's nice and witty and she tried really hard to integrate herself into their lives when she started dating him. But Liz doesn't miss the wary looks she sends her way every once in a while when she's standing near Avan. She doesn't miss the way her grip tightens on him whenever he smiles at her when he's with them both. She can the feel the awkwardness between them when she's alone with her, and Liz just knows that she's remembering all the taunting comments fans send her of the moments in which they both got a little too into character and 'handsy'.

What is she supposed to say: I know he's your boyfriend and I don't want to date him, but I was here first so he's kind of mine, too?

How does she explain that sometimes she feels like she's intruding in his relationship, and sometimes she feels like his girlfriend is the one messing everything up for them?

She honestly just doesn't know.

"Play me the song," he asks, breaking their silence and moving away from dangerous subjects. "The one you were humming a few minutes ago."

"I don't have all the lyrics yet," she murmurs. "I just can't get the second verse done."

"Try me, and I'll see if I can come up with something," he prompts her, before standing up and walking into his room. He comes back two minutes later, carrying a keyboard and takes a seat on the floor. She almost trips over him when he grabs onto her leg and pulls her down to the floor next to him, basically thrusting the piano onto her lap.

"Play," he commands.

And, she does.

It's a song she's been working on by herself. It's slow and confusing and full of doubts and revelations, just like her. She plays what she has, taking her time to find her center and feeling more self-conscious than she ever has before in her life.

She doesn't like to worry

But she's afraid of everything

That's going on around her

"I don't know how to finish it," she reminds him, frowning when he narrows his eyes.

"Play that verse again," he request. "I think I have an idea," he explains at her perplexed look. She does as she's told, and she can't hide her shock or the smile that forms on her face when he joins in.

I'm just another photo

That made its way on her page

Somehow I stayed, but it won't be long

"That's it."

"It was just a suggestion, but I can try to come up with something better if you don't like it," he apologizes, looking adorably bashful when he thinks she cut him off because she didn't like his suggestion. That's fine, though, because it makes his surprise when she wraps her arms around him that much greater.

"No! Don't be stupid, that was 'it'!" she emphasizes. "That was the phrase I was looking for!"

"So, it's okay?"

"It's perfect," she confirms, pulling away from him so she can thank him properly.

And then it happens.

She doesn't know why, but she can't stop herself from leaning forward and pressing a peck to his cheek. She moves away like if his skin burned her lips the moment her mind catches up and realizes what she's done.

It's not like she's never kissed him before. Obviously, she's kissed him onscreen before. And she's kissed him off-stage too, when they're posing for pictures or just messing around and being silly. They were playful kisses between flirty friends that trusted each other. They were innocent. Most importantly, nobody ever got hurt.

But this kiss; this little, almost insignificant peck on the cheek was dangerous.

Toxic because it threaded on the edge everything they were, and everything they could be. Inappropriate because, while it was supposed to be friendly, it felt like so much more. This wasn't Jade kissing Beck. It wasn't McGillz messing around with Jogia during their breaks, just for laughs. There were no people around to catch the joke, and there was no joke to even start with.

This was Liz kissing Avan: plain and simple.

When she looks in his eyes, she sees more than friendship. She can see hidden promises, just peaking over the irises. It's like watching a spark that could ignite a fire if either one was brave enough to stroke its flames. His grip tightens on her arms and the heat from his hold is scalding her skin, marking her in a way that will never physically demonstrate itself.

She wants him to kiss her, so much more than she wants him to let her walk away.

He leans forward, lifting his hand so he can cup her face and his lips have barely started to part when a phone starts playing a loud ringtone.

And just like that, the moment's over.

"Fucking hell," she hears him murmur, before reaching for the phone in his pocket.

It takes her less than fifteen seconds to find out it's his girlfriend, and she will not accept that maybe her heart skipped a beat when she heard him tell her that he's alone, and that yes, he loves her, too, and he'll see her later.

He drops his phone back into his pocket and turns to meet her stare, his own gaze apologetic. She smiles at him, because she doesn't want him to feel bad. He shouldn't, because, technically, nothing happened.

Even if it felt like so much did.

"I think it's time for me to go home."

He nods. "Liz, we should probably talk about, you know…"

"There's nothing to talk about, I'm just really happy that you helped me get this song done," she waives him off, refusing to speak of their almost something.

"I'll drive you home," he offers, making to grab for his keys.

"No need," she halts him, before explaining, "My friend, Mike, he's nearby and he offered to pick me up so we can hit the studio for a little while. Plus, I want to try out my new song, and you should be getting ready for your date."

She doesn't miss the way his jaw tenses any more than he misses the way she forces a stiff smile onto her face.

So much for being great pretenders.

They spend the next few minutes in an awkward phase, both two out of synch to really know what to say. She messes with the piano, playing the melody to one of her favorite Bob Dylan songs until her phone vibrates with a message that her ride is waiting outside.

"I have to go now, but I'll see you around," she assures him, hoping for a quick exit. She's almost at the door when she stops and turns around. He's standing behind her, and she can't stop the words from spilling out of her mouth.

"I know you have a new show and new co-stars and everything, but you'll always be my favorite on-screen lover," she admits. "And, more importantly, you'll always be one of my best friends."

And now it's his turn to hug her.

He holds onto her like a desperate man. His grip tightens to the point it hurts, but all she can do is return his embrace. They both know that this was a chance, and one they didn't take. Again. She rests her head on his shoulder and he presses his cheek against her. They stay like that for a few seconds more, until her phone starts vibrating again, and she's reminded that she has to go. But not before he says his part.

"You'll always be my favorite girl."

And she knows he doesn't just mean on TV.

It's later, when she's in the studio and she's singing the part he came up with that she allows herself to think of him.

She thinks of the times they almost went too far. All the times they danced along the lines of friendship and love and how that line had gotten so blurred at times that it was impossible to know which they fell under.

It was always too much, or not enough.

And she knows that today was meant to be the goodbye they never got. It was supposed to give her peace so she could settle her doubts once and for all. He loved somebody else, and she still had to spend a little more time focusing on herself.

So why did it feel so much like a beginning?

He leaves me hoping

That my love won't show

Because they were destined to be everything or nothing.

And nothing sure as hell wasn't an option.

This was just the wrong time and wrong place.

Fortunately, time was the one thing they had plenty of.

-.-.-.-

So, yeah.

This was my attempt at an Elavan fic. I obviously don't know them and have no insider knowledge on them whatsoever. This is all just a product of me and my clinically insane imagination.

With that being said, hope you guys liked it!

Also, I made two references in here. Whoever can tell me where they came from gets a oneshot about whatever they want!

Hint: One's a song (that's the easy one) and the other is one of my OTPs from another TV show on the CW.

Don't forget to review!

-Lori