Notes: I'm so sorry this took so long. This has been sitting in my drafts untouched since January. I couldn't find the energy to finish it. When I started this fic, I wanted to give you guys long chapters with atleast 10k words. Now, I'm just going to upload this so it doesn't go to waste but I want you to know that I don't plan on working on this fic anymore. Hope you like this final post.
As Eleven and Max walked down the block, they were both silent. It was clearly written on El's face that she did not find the stunt that the other girl had pulled on Mike even slightly amusing. She didn't exactly know where they were headed but didn't want Max to get the satisfaction of having her speak first. Max wasn't the type to apologize so she just let her friend stew. Thankfully, a corgi seemingly popped out of nowhere to break the ice. It sprinted towards them and started nipping at the end of the brunette's ankle trousers.
"Oh, good to see you little Elion!" El stooped down a bit to give him a quick pat. The dog licked her had and lied down for a belly rub. She humored him and laughed as he wiggled in joy.
"The mutt gets a nice warm greeting yet you cannot spare your good friend a smile?You know he is not allowed outside but I took him with me because I knew you missed him," Max complained, jokingly. She was genuinely hurt but not one to risk showing a moment of weakness. A trained combatant never puts her guard down. Especially one of faerie descent and so highly favored by the Seelie Court.
"I don't recall you craving for affection like your pet, Max. Is your raging fire dulling into a soft ember?" El replied with a conciliatory smile. It was unfortunate that she had always been wary of the other girl. Everytime she got out of the other realm, she forgot that she had people on her side among the Fae. But Max was volatile and tricks came to her far too easily. El couldn't stomach this facet of her personality.
Max took what she said as an unsaid apology and then stooped as well, rubbing Elion by the ears. "The mortals were right in guessing that corgis and the fae have a bond but imagine us riding this boy into Faerie like a steed. What a bunch of fools!" She let out one of her soft tinkling laugh that always sounded partly menacing to El's halfling ears.
It was jokes like this that always made Eleven uncomfortable. Her childhood friend had always harbored a strong disdain for humans. She once had a hunch that it was an act to convince her to take a permanent residence at the Court Castle. But after finding out about the Billy and his decision to be one of the solitary fae, she knew that the girl's reason ran deep. Perhaps it was still painful for her to know that her stepbrother chose to live among human rather than raise her.
Just then a cab came by and Max called for it. El raised an eyebrow at her friend. It was one thing for a pureblood to be at the heart of a city but stepping inside a cab would be torture. Even without direct contact, the iron and it's alloys would burn Max.
"Do not worry too much. Your father was kind enough to lend me this," said the redhead as she raised a bracelet on her left wrist. It was clearly warlock-made and looked to be of good craftsmanship. The amethyst charm contrasted beautifully with her pale skin.
When Max entered the car with a set jaw, it did seem to do the trick. Still, El asked for the windows to be pulled down, hoping that the night breeze could ease Max's nerves. The girl did look afraid but was holding the fidgety Elion close to her chest.
"Where to, ladies?" the cabbie asked once they were settled.
"Pelham Bay Park," Max replied. She was trying to soothe her pet who was making little yipping noises.
"At this hour? In those nice clothes?" he remarked in a suggestive tone. There were tons of weird shit that went down at this hour in the City That Never Sleeps.
"We do not have all day," El snapped at him. She fixed him with a stare that intended to shut him up.
The poor man raised his hands as if in surrender. "Alright. Just trying to make conversation. Just be careful not to let the dog mess up the seats, alright?," he said before speeding off.
Eleven was not happy to have been called for by the King. She always dreaded when she had to come stay with her father, even for short visits which this one hopefully is. She was only allowed to spend time living with her mother Terry Ives when she was 10 years old. By that time, she had gained enough control over her abilities to avoid exposing herself or pose as a risk. She fought hard for the chance to live in New York. The Fae are none too kind to outsiders and even less kind to those who might divulge their well-kept secrets. She was in the very unpleasant position of being in both categories. No one could fault her for wanting to get away from the realm.
Early in her childhood, she had needed to prove that she was strong enough not to be a victim. Although the Seelie are more mild-mannered compared to their counterpart, they are still vicious when wronged. Anyone could challenge the Seelie King's right to the throne, but being one of his daughters made Jane a possible heir. This never did sit well with the proud race and any sign of the King doting on her was often called a betrayal behind locked doors.
Those who aren't privy to the entire truth attributed the minor uprising that some of King Martin's most loyal followers staged to the girl's sudden place in the court and her privilege to travel between realms. However, the real reason was far more sinister. Eleven is sure that Max has not been made aware of it yet. If she did, Max would have already driven a dagger to her heart.
They got off the cab near the park entrance. Max and Elion scrambled to get out of the car as soon as it came to a stop. Relief was so evident on both their faces that El could not help but chuckle.
As soon as the cab drove off, Max gave a little triumphant whoop. "I will never subject myself to that kind of ordeal ever again," she vowed, dramatically.
As they entered the park, El hoped that they wouldn't encounter anyone on the way. During one of the times she visited Fae through Central Park, she almost got mugged. Of course, the guy ended up regretting approaching her in the first place but that doesn't mean that El enjoyed punishing him.
The three started their way to the inland oak forest by hiking the Kazimiroff Trail. The full moon gave off enough of its eerie light that El's halfling eyes could see just fine even without the lamp posts. As they veered off the concrete walkways, Max took off her flimsy sandals. She looked extremely glad to be barefoot once again. Elion barked with happiness as the surrounding looked more like his home.
Watching the other girl skip ahead, Eleven was reminded of how much she had envied her when they were children. Her friend had resembled Queen Titania whom all fae children read about in their history studies. She also shared the fierce energy and boldness that the late queen was known for. In short, Max was every bit like the epitome of a Summer Court faerie. Eleven had hoped to be more like her. She constantly wished that her dull brown hair would turn light and that her slight frame would get more athletic. But those days were behind her. She did not wish to live up to the standards of anyone but herself.
They veered away from the path when the reached the oaks. Max hummed in delight as they ventured into the more undisturbed part of the forest. Their steps took a more hurried pace as home beckoned them. Elion, having sensed the pickpocket up ahead, sprinted into a mad dash. El had only used this particular entrance twice, often opting for the one in Central Park which led directly to the castle. The one they were about to enter was the door between this realm and Gleam Clearing.
All over the world, entrances to Faerie such as this existed. Big rock formations, treetrunks, hills, and even ice could be unsuspecting doorways to another world. Just as the face of the earth changed over time, so did the locations of the pickpockets. Magic was as malleable as nature. Just like nature, it was alive. The topography of Faerie was even more chaotic as the laws of nature didn't exactly apply there in the same way. Even Time itself, misbehaved.
The air started to buzz even before they spotted the pickpocket. The forest was undoubtedly more alive here. The canopies looked more luscious and the trees draped in brighter hues. Then, El saw it. With each step they took towards a big moss covered pile of rock, the sound of soft tinkling chimes coming from beneath the earth grew stronger. It was a serenade that seeks to lure human trespassers to a life of tricks disguised as treats or death. The effects of magic emanating from the very ground was starting to show. El saw that Max was already sporting the pointed ears and her eyes, now devoid of pupils, were pure blue. She didn't to look at herself to know that she had undergone the same changes. The redhead motioned for her to do the honors, to open the gate.
El rested her hand on the mound. She felt the magic probing into her mind, examining her intentions and memories. It knew her. It remembered. With tears streaming down her face, she spoke softly.
"King's daughter, youngest
Open the door.
Hast thou forgotten
Thy promises made
At the fountain so clear
'Neath the lime tree's shade
King's daughter, youngest
Open the door."
The door started to open slowly. The rock seemed to cave into a door of light. It shimmered brighter with the passing of each moment. It beckoned at them. Elion went in first, eager to come home. Sensing El's hesitation, Max intertwined her hand with hers as they plummeted in.
It only took a few seconds before they stumbled onto familiar soft grass. Despite her
Gleam Clearing was a sight to behold on a normal day but the celebration taking place made it look like a picture of heavenly desires. The dancing lights were a constant but the overflow of food and silk were not. Trays filled with small cakes and berries flitted about. Glasses with bright fluids replenished on their own. The place was surrounded by gossamer walls adorned with flowers that moved into varying patterns as if fluid.
But most enchanting of all were the fae of the Seelie. Some wore more a simple attire like Max but most of them looked luscious in lavishness. The regalia of human royalty could not compare to a common faerie dressed to the nines. Unbothered by nudity, there are those who looked as if wearing nothing but skin dipped in gold or gems. They came in all sizes and hailed from different places. Selkies and other aquatic fair folk looked to be encapsulated in running water. Winged fair folk had their own dancefloor a couple of feet above the rest. Various anatomical differences were also evident. Gills, webbed hands, antlers, hooves, and scaled skin could be found among guests. What the unearthly crowd had in common were the eyes of a singular solid color. The party back in New York couldn't compare to a real revel.
Walking towards the throng, they were greeted by two faeries who have been with El since she was small. Kali and Hopper were her tutors and advisers. Both were strong and invaluable members of the court as well. El regards them with much begrudging respect because although they were the ones who trained her enough to be in a bargaining position with the King, they were also the reasons why the opportunity was nearly taken from her. After Max had escorted her, she excused herself.
"Apsenniel, we are glad that you are home again," Kali said with enthusiasm, although to human ears her voice sounded bored. Her body was covered in black liquid that went up to her neck. She looked like she was in one of those dominatrix body suits that El often saw in kinky parties.
"I thought we agreed not to call me that," El replied coolly.
"It is pointless to try to hide from your true self. You should not be ashamed of your Fae name," Hopper said gruffly. His build made him look very imposing. Even in Faerie standards, he was old. For centuries, he has been the head of the Wild Hunt. Here in his faerie gentry clothes, he still looked like too big and too wild for this place.
"I can lie and I don't get my high on other people's expenses. Couldn't be anymore farther away from Fae if you ask me," she replied with a bit of venom.
"You say you despise us because we are cruel of heart. So spare us this hostility," Hopper responded, unperturbed.
"We should greet Father," Kali said to break off the tension.
They walked towards the other side of the clearing where a seat encrusted with jewels was on a dais made of bark. On the throne sat the King of the Seelie Court. His white hair contrasted with his black eyes. His skin had cracks like glass but his clothes were pristine. He held himself in a way that only a being of immense power and pride can. El abhorred him.
"Daughter of mine, how nice to see your face again. I only wish you were not wearing those distasteful clothes," King Martin said as a greeting.
"If I say that it pleases me to see you as well, I would be untrue. And this is Alexander Mcqueen. Both Mother and I have an impeccable eye. Although her taste in men is certainly questionable, " El replied.
Others might not notice the slight change in the set of his mouth but El knew that she had pissed her father big time.
"There is just no pleasing you, nowadays. Presuming that you would not like to enjoy the revel, it is best if we talk in a more private place," he said in a deadly tone. As he rose from his seat, part of the dais at his side opened up to reveal a passage. He went in while El and her tutors followed. As soon as the three had descended, the entrance closed behind them.
Illuminated solely by a trail of light left by the King, she felt like a caged animal. It felt like they could have been there for hours but she was sure that it only took them minutes. El thought that the path tunneled into the castle but she had guessed wrong. When they finally reached the exit, she saw that they were at the outskirts leading to the Badlands.
She had been here before but now she sensed something malevolent lurking just beyond. What had once been teeming brush is now wasteland. It was as she had feared. She had opened a wound and left it unattended. It wouldn't matter how hard she tries to stay away. Sooner or later, she would have to face the festering, the rot.
Facing the gloomy expanse ahead, the King said,"What do the two of you have for me?"
"Yesterday, ten men rode with me. We spread out for a twelve mile perimeter. From here onwards, there looks to be no sign of life. The land is poisoned but it doesn't seem to be dark magic," Hopper said grimly.
"I have requested an audience with the Unseelie Court. My little birds tell me that King Samuel is becoming more restless and volatile as this spreads to their side of Fae. It's reasonable for him to suspect that we know something. He could wage a war with us if we do not forge an alliance. We have to tell him what we know," Kali added.
"And you, Apsenniel? What can you make of that?," King Martin addressed his daughter.
"You have already asked enough of me," she replied obstinately.
"Is there no guilt in your heart? If this spreads, our people will be brought to its knees."
"You talk as if it was I who perpetuated this madness when it is your greed to blame!"
"There will come a time for retribution but for now we must take action," the Master of the Hunt intercepted.
"As a courtesy, I will let your bold words slip for now, Hopper. But do not think that I did not hear your thinly veiled threat."
"Forgive me for speaking out of line but all this bickering benefits no one," the chief intendant murmured.
"What would you have me do? Willingly go back there? I am no knight. I do not envy heroes their honorable death," El spat out.
"Child, only you were able to wander into the heart of the Badlands," Hopper admitted sadly.
"We've been searching the scrolls for answers but have come up with nothing. Nobody else has reached that far in all of history," Kali added.
"Name your price," the King acquiesced.
"If I do this, I get to denounce my faerie lineage and my claim to the throne."
"You do realize that the consequence of being banquished is that you will not be welcome into Fae any longer, don't you?" he said with a cynical smile.
"I have never been welcome here," said El with a tone of finality.
Mike's first week at NYU was nerve-wrecking to say the least. He was a fish out of water in a pool of kids who walked with purpose. They carried themselves with an absurd amount of confidence. Before his classes started, his syllabi got him excited. Now that he's met his professors, they have become daunting. Nancy says that the jitters will wear off soon enough. Still, he thinks that maybe he won't be able to shake it off since his original plan was MIT and writing was just a pipe dream for so long.
A particular class was already biting him in the ass. On his first day with Mr. Booth, infamously nicknamed Satan after his facial hair and his affinity for handing failing grades, the man had required them to have understood Paradise Lost. The pop quiz that came before the class discussion seemed like gibberish to Mike. Listening to the professor drone about Samarchand, Chersonese, and Motesume only had him scratching the back of his head. Weren't they supposed to be talking about the God, the angels, and Adam and Eve?
He also couldn't figure out how the week passed by without him making any friends. By New York standards, he was adjusting too slow. He should be paying more attention if he wanted to do more than get by.
To blow off some steam, his sister suggested that they invite Lucas and Dustin over for dinner on a Friday. The three boys got along so well together that a noise complaint from the tenant below forced them to continue their night outside. Nancy opted to stay in and insisted that they go on a boys' night out.
They went to Josie Woods Pub where Mike is told that a lot of NYU kids go to for drinks. The Waverly Place crawl had a casual, college-keg-party vibe. It wasn't rowdy and that was fine by Mike whose spirits rose as soon as he stepped in. They chose to stick to beer and easy conversation instead of getting smashed. They ordered fajitas and the nachos primos at Dustin's insistence.
Lucas revealed that he was taking a gap year because the political climate got him backing out of trying for the Air Force. Dustin was determined to take culinary arts but didn't get the much needed scholarship so he was helping out at his grandfather's pizzeria until atleast the following semester. The two boys didn't seem too perturbed with their current predicaments which made Mike feel that his anxieties were unwarranted. When he voiced this out, it was quickly denied by his audience. Dustin smoothly changed the subject after stating simply that the weight of one's troubles may not always be determined by another.
"So has anybody caught your eye at NYU? Hey, maybe she's here right now!" Dustin said in a loud and slurred voice as he whipped his head back and forth across the room.
"There is someone...but she doesn't go to NYU," Mike confessed.
"Girl from home? Tough luck," Lucas sympathized.
"No. She's born and raised here. Goes to Pratt," cleared the smitten boy.
"She's probably a schmuck. The whole school is populated with trust fund babies. Either that or she's got the crazies. What did you say her name was?" questioned his friend.
"I didn't. Her name's Eleven," Mike said sheepishly.
"Like the number?" asked an incredulous Lucas.
"Uh oh. Definitely the crazies. My older brother dated a girl who went there and she wanted to be a literal starving artist. But the problem was she was rich. I mean like mansion at the Hamptons and Upper East Side townhouse rich. So this girl, she had a name like Olga or something, started cutting up hundred dollar bills around campus and calling it performance art. One time, my brother had to stop her from eating her credit card. She was going to snap it into little pieces and mix it in with her Campbells," divulged Dustin.
"Either you're just messing with me or you fell for your brother's cute little story," Mike said, unconvinced.
"Man, I wish he was lying but it's all true. You're better off with a kale-eating hipster girlfriend than a Pratt kid," Lucas mumbled.
"I'll admit that they are some things about her that weird me out but if she gives me a chance, I'm taking it," Mike fessed up.
"Dude, you have to heed the signs! Ignoring red flags is a rookie mistake," cried Dustin in exasperation.
"And you must be such a pro at this to have so much wisdom to impart to amateurs like me." Mike
"You know it. I'm a hit," as if to prove his point, Dustin followed it with a growl.
"And here you discredit us just when we have our case built."
"Hey! Everybody who gets to hear that purr finds themselves wanting to get a piece of me."
"A real piece of work. A fat pain in the ass."
"I think you meant bootylicious. Besides, I'm not the one calling myself Chocolate Daddy."
"Damn right. I'm the one with the black boy magic. Anyway, Mike, why don't you introduce us to her? We're great judges of character."
"We totally have your back, dude. We'll steer you away from the bad nuts."
"Not sure I want to do that," replied Mike with a schooled apologetic expression.
"Oh. Well, that's fine," Lucas said awkwardly.
"Yeah. We got so carried away that we kinda forget that you barely know us," Dustin followed, equally embarrassed.
"No. It's not like that. I mean, I'm trying to get her to notice me. I can't risk getting out-shadowed by you guys. I think I have enough competition as it is," Mike said in such a serious tone that when he finally broke into a laugh, his new friends started pelting peanuts at him.
"You really have to let us meet her now,asshole. I felt so bad," the curly haired boy admitted, chuckling. Him and Lucas shared a look that meant that they were in an agreement that Mike would make a delightful addition to their little party.
"I haven't even texted her yet. The closest I've got was asking her flatmate if she got home safe."
"Was the roommate the overprotective, distrustful to all men type of friend or the encouraging, my-friend-needs-to-go-out-more type?"
"I don't really think HE fits into any of those stereotypes. He's new to the city like me."
"You think he's into her too? Roommates falling for each other is a classic trope."
"He isn't into girls."
"So basically, the only thing stopping you is yourself. Dude, you have to man up. If she's really such a catch, someone else is going to make a move on her before you know it."
"Mike, you are texting her tonight."
"What?! A minute ago, both of you were telling me to stay away from her."
"That's what friends do."
"Friends, huh?"
"Yes. Good friends. Look, there's a little show happening at 538 Johnson this Friday. The same guys you saw playing when we met are in it. Why don't you invite El and her friend to go with us."
"Yeah. It'll be great, Mike. Fair warning though. It gets wild there. But it'll be like a test. If she's too posh for that kind of stuff, you're too good for her"
"What if I'm the one who ends being too much of a wimp for it?"
"Nah. You? You're going to love it."
When Mike gave into the plan, the boys made him down three tequila shots. He's had her number saved on his phone since Will forwarded it two days ago. Will wasn't the type to hand out a friend's number but had found himself rooting for Mike. He had said so rather unsubtly.
Mike drafted three versions of the invitation before settling with the one that most assumed a casual air but unmistakably expressed a desire to her again. He re-read it studiously before nervously hitting send.
Entering the doors of the converted church that was her mother's home, El couldn't help but admire the work of a sharp eye and dignified taste. Terry Ives is nothing if not meticulous, especially when it came to her own home. Lavish but not gaudy, modern but exuding with charm, one could not mistake the talent at hand. She had come from a family that valued strict sensibility and Catholic values over imagination and ambition. When she left for New York, setting aside her previous inhibitions came easy. Fairies are a proud race which liked pretty things. It was no wonder how the King of Seelie could have fallen for her and had her bearing his child.
The effects of his previous affection was evident in her design choices, atleast to El. Her choosing to build a home on hallowed ground and the switch of medium from wood and fiber to iron and other alloys wasn't brought by a religious re-awakening as people suspected. It would be unknown to the rest of the world that her greatest design so far is re-building her life in such a way that protected her daughter in the only way that she thought she could.
The door to her mother's office was ajar so El stepped in. Terry was primly seated in a vintage upholstered wrought iron chair by her window, staring blankly ahead. With her slender build and fair amber hair, she looked like a bird trapped in her own iron cage. El must made a sound because the woman turned to her with a sweet smile.
"It's a good thing you decided to visit. I was starting to think that you've forgotten me. Come sit with me," Terry said, gesturing to the seat opposite hers.
"Mama, I did tell you that Martin called for me last weekend. Plus, first week of classes had me surprisingly busy," explained El as soon as she was seated.
Terry offered her some tea but El declined, wrinkling her noise in distaste. Tea was always served in Seelie and so she preferred coffee over it.
"What did he want from you this time? Couldn't he ask for your sister to deal with it?" the older woman asked between sips.
"Apparently not," she grumbled.
"There's more to the story?"
"It's because of something he forced me to do. I wish I could pin the entire blame on him so that I could decline...but no matter how I look at it, I'm still responsible."
"Honey, I know that you keep things for me so I could be safe from it. And I know I said that I only want to know what I strictly need to. But I'm always here to listen. Especially when it gets bad."
"I'm scared, Mama," she whispered, eyes downcast.
"How bad is it?" Terry ventured.
"If...if it doesn't get resolved, it may start a war or worse," was the reply that left El's trembling lips.
"Christ. I'm going to strangle that son of a bitch! He's putting that much weight on your shoulders? Honey, is there's anything I can do to help?"
"Honestly? I'm just trying to keep my mind off it for now."
"Right. Got it. So how's Pratt? Did they give you special treatment?"
"Why does it sound like you want them to?" El asks, raising an eyebrow.
"Please allow me to have this. I think I'm having my mid-life crisis."
"You are so dramatic."
"Now you know where you got it from."
El's phone goes off, interrupting their light banter. She receives text from someone she didn't expect. It was a nice surprise that would certainly amuse her mom.
"My old man is going to kill me if he finds out about this." Steve whines as he lags behind.
They were scaling the Red Hook Grain Terminal so Jon can take a couple of pictures. Lots of photographers have already done this in the past so it's more like a little outing for the three than a serious shoot.
"There are worse things than trespassing." Nancy says with gritted teeth as she nearly slips and takes a fall.
"Nancy, please. We are not trespassers. We're urban explorers!" Jon exclaims in faux indignation with eyes trained on his girlfriend's slight frame. He's not about to admit it but he's already regretting taking them here. He's super close to getting a heart attack. If either of his lovers get so much as a scrape, he's taking them home.
"Like modern versions of Christopher Columbus or Ferdinand Magellan?" Steve asks, looking proud of himself that he still knew a bit about world history.
"Ew. They were colonizers and most likely slave traders. We're more like Amelia Earheart." Nancy rolls her eyes at the pout that appears on Steve's face.
"Except we're not going to get lost, right?" Steve whispers, unsure if he wants to know the answer.
"It's good to get lost once in a while," Jon replies with a not so reassuring smile.
"No thanks. I'm good. Since when have you been doing this anyway? I barely get to see your bad boy side. I think I may be swooning right now," Steve jokes. They were definitely high enough that falling off this ramp they were on would break their necks.
"Invite us over to your place tonight and maybe you'll get to see more of him," Jon answers with a smirk.
"Boys, now is not the time and place to be getting all hot and heavy. Can it wait till I have free hands so I can fan myself atleast?" Nancy joins in.
"Oh, I can think of a couple of better uses for those hands," Jon says, chuckling.
"Damn, Jon. Give papa a bite," Steve said in an equally husky voice and got the other two laughing.
Nancy started planning her life at seven years old. Striving hard to reach it, it had seemed foolproof and well within her reach. She had wanted to be a doctor. It was Harvard Med or nothing. If she had dreamt of New York, it was only in the hopes of residency at Mount Sinai or John Hopkins. If the old Nancy could see her now, she would be shocked and maybe even appalled. Although she had never considered herself square, she was certainly not this liberal. The neat little townhouse with six to seven figure salary was just a fancier version of their quiet home at the cul de sac.
She guiltily thinks that her parents' divorce was a blessing in disguise. The intensity of her mother's dissatisfaction and her defeated countenance awakened something inside of Nancy. She was forced to rethink life. She began to ponder on the important difference between companionship and passion, to pit stability and excitement against each other. It was in this line of thinking that she had made her decision with Jonathan and Steve. Where other people were forced to choose between disappointments, she was fortunate to get a third option. Luck and imagination drove her to where she was now.
The pungent smell snapped her out of her reverie. She didn't want to go further. The smell brought her back to the time she discovered their poor dog one morning with a litter of dead puppies at her feet. It brought her back to that time she accidentally saw her Aunt Marcy taking off a bandage on her festering leg.
"Nance, what is it?" she could hear Jonathan's voice but it sounded far away. Her brain told her to stay in place but her feet dragged her forward. Each step she took felt heavier than the last. Her pace was picking up speed along with her heartbeat. Just as she was about to jump off a ledge to get to other one adjacent to it, a pair of hands yanked her back.
Enclosed in Steve's arms, she could feel herself snapping out of it. When she finally takes a peek from where her head is buried on her boyfriend's chest, she witnesses the oddest look on Jonathan's face as he lowers the camera he had pointed to the direction where she felt herself being pulled into.
Jon looks at the photo he just took and informs the other two that it is time to go home.