Hey guys! I know I haven't been updating for a while, and I'm so very sorry about that...writing can be difficult at times. I've made an ultimate decision about my story, and I really hope you will support it. Nope, I'm not cancelling it. I just think that it would be easier for me to write it in Riley's point of view rather than the third person. Tell me how you think about the change (do you hate it or do you love it?) and I'll either rewrite this chapter in the third person or continue writing in Riley's point of view.

Aside from the writing technicalities, I hope you all had an amazing holiday break whether you celebrate Christmas or not! We're all a great big family, and you guys have no idea how helpful and motivating your presence has been on me during my own hard time. Thanks for everything, and I hope you enjoy this next installment!

Xoxo,

Kadecca

Walking out from the building, I felt as if the world had somehow landed me back on my feet. My hiatus from all my other projects (of course I always had people working on them back at the office) had been busy, and I had been discouraged so many times. Looking at all the women and girls who had thanked me afterwards and talking to others who were as grounded as myself made every single second of working worth it.

Every single one of their stories inspired me to work harder. Successful women who had found their way out of their darkest moments could look back and tell their story, but there were still others without the resources and hope to escape. There were also many who had the resources but were too damn scared, no terrified, to even reach out for a little hope. The whole project wasn't only about allowing women to achieve the resources necessary. No, it was to show them that they didn't have to be embarrassed about their incidents and that those moments were not their fault. It was to bring them out of terror and poverty, and install the confidence and hope that could lead to happiness in life.

It is so very ironic that you're the one telling them how to feel when you can't even save yourself.

A hand tapped me in the back, and I spun around without as much as a flinch. Take that, the negative thoughts in my mind.

"Zay!" I tackled him, which didn't seem to nudge him even an inch. He was dressed in a suit and tie, apparel that was the opposite of his temperament, and a string of white tulips were in his hand. I grinned sheepishly at the stares around me, and red flushed up to my cheeks almost as quickly. The glares grew friendlier and even turned to small chuckles when Vanessa Babineaux appeared next to him.

I disattached from Zay slowly and gave a quick hug to Vanessa. She was the sole reason that Zay and I had gotten closer and, to make matters even better, she was the main coordinator for True Heart's domestic violence funding section. After a few months and the whole blow-up with the NFL's violence situation, multiple domestic violence charities contacted us. I hadn't had enough time to deal with everything but obviously didn't want to let go of the issue, which led me to call up Vanessa to become the first official employee of True Heart other than myself. "I couldn't miss your big announcement, especially since you've been shutting out the world for it the past few weeks."

"You know you're my favorite, Vanessa." I said, teasing her with a quirky smile. A few others had joined our little group, and chatters were exchanged about everything from our thoughts of the recent Syrian crisis to how our summer was going. Aside from being my amazing co-worker and a passionate feminist, Vanessa was also the owner of a small chain of clothing stores with high and low profile consumers alike. I honestly had no idea how she did it; I was already crumbling with so much work on True Hearts.

A silent alarm nudged in my dress pocket, an invention that remains the greatest to ever come in female attire, and I ushered quick goodbyes before grabbing Vanessa and Zay. The couple was still dating, but that didn't keep me from feeling like the ultimate third wheel around them.

"Thanks for coming, Nessa." Zay gave me a wounded pout, and I resisted the urge to "lightly" tap him on the face. "And I guess thanks for the lilies, Zay. You both have been a great help to me throughout everything. I really mean it."

My voice grew thick towards the end, and Vanessa captured me into another embrace. She knew what I meant, and although she wasn't the best friend who had been there for me since birth, I had no doubt that she loved me like her own sister.

As she pulled away and attached herself back to Zay, she held me hand comfortingly. "You know you've done more than enough for me, Riley. You know," she smiled and let out a small laugh, "with everything as you've so descriptively put it.

"Mr. Zay here and I both owe it to you so don't sweat it. Goodbye, Riley, and I'll see you later." As she and Zay walked away after a quick exchange, her arm raised in a quick wave and the coat sleeve slipped slightly.

Like a reminder from way above, the scar from two years ago fell into view before fading back into the cover of a thin maroon jacket.

We were one in the same, really.


"Congratulations!"

I blinked slowly as the door opened. A large chocolate cake that looked something like an oversized molten lava cake topped with glazed strawberries and vanilla crema was at center stage on the dining table, and a flurry of unexpected guests were on the couches and near the kitchen. My brain was already fried from thinking and trying to memorize my speech, and I wasn't exactly prepared to make intelligible thoughts out of this.

The room was awkwardly silent, waiting for my reaction. My friends always meant well in their own special ways, and I knew that a positive reaction was the one they were looking for. Plus, I did appreciate a good chocolate cake.

"I love it." I said, almost as if it was a question. I walked into the room like a princess, with everyone watching my steps and Isadora practically yanking my coat off me and into the coat closet.


Maya punched me lightly on the shoulder, which basically represented our whole relationship. "And then this little girl, this rainbow, decided to drop all of the luggage back into the streets because her wobbly arms couldn't handle it. So, that's what we had no luggage in San Francisco."

I rolled my eyes. It had been one time, one mess up that had stunted years of provoking on Maya's part. No one told me that Maya's two luggages were right on the maximum scale. Her house didn't even have enough things to fill up the luggage, so how was I supposed to know it was the weight of mountains?

My phone beeped for the millionth time but I shoved it back in my pocket. This time was for the beautiful friends and family I had, because I surely considered most of them my family and it wasn't just because of legal ties, and I wasn't going to let my work get caught up in it.

"Did I tell you about that other time when this girl accidently broke into someone's car when we visited Honduras in her one person blog days? Oh my-"

Beep.

"-that was a sight to see ladies and gentlemen-"

Beep.

"honestly, she was just an innocent blob who needed-"

Beep.

"oh my god, Riley can you just pick up your phone, please?"

Beep.

I sighed, and picked up my phone. My hands felt as if they were going in slow motion for whatever reason, and I clicked on the message button.

My heart stopped.

I couldn't feel my hands.

My vision blurred.

Everything was a blur from when I sprinted off the couch to when I slammed my door closed.

I scanned the room rabidly, before shoving my hands to the frame of the door and fumbling with the metal before sliding the golden, barred lock across it. I nearly threw myself across the room to my open curtains and shoved them together, the only light coming from the small lamp by my bed.

One more.

"P-L-U-T-O." I said, waiting for the voice command to click in. The door clicked once more, and I slumped down against the corner wall. My room was bare for a purpose, and I could see every corner of it from here.

My hands were shaking and I could hardly breath. Every breath was painful and burned my chest and throat as it quivered through me. I crumpled into myself, huddling in a small ball as I squeezed my eyes, the hot water sending needles through me with every mark and scar it traced.

I could hear someone knock on the door frantically, but the shouts inside drowned them out. Maybe it was just a text, maybe it was something much, much safer than the worst outcome, but there was the chance…

What was I kidding? I knew I wouldn't be able to hide forever from him, and I had forsaken privacy when I decided to become a feminist figure with True Heart. I couldn't have been expecting him to give up, and it was silly to even think of that. Of course he wouldn't. He was obsessed, and I was too weak to show any defiance.

It's all your fault.

All of this was just so ironic. I spent my whole life dedicating myself to helping young women, but the moments I was in the situation...I couldn't do a single thing.

You don't deserve it. They're different. You were just too weak.

My breaths kept shallowing, and black spots danced across my vision as I struggled to maintain structure. I could feel my body swaying with dizziness, and I couldn't feel my hands and legs. My body felt as if it were tearing itself with every huff and puff, and they etched burned scars across my throat and lungs as I gasped. Anyone could recognize it. Panic attack.

I could stop it, I knew I could. I had done it so many times before, and I hadn't needed anyone. Of course I could do this; I had had panic attacks a few times every single month back in University. No one had known of them, and I had been able to stop them every time.

But each time I tried to hold my breath, I could feel a part of me fall apart even more, adding to the fire. It was as if I had double vision, with my eyes seeing the darkness of the wood room and my mind entrenched in a reality of what was very much hell. My hands and body felt two different things as if I belonged to two bodies, one huddled in the corner of paranoid hallucinations and the other feeling terror shoot through my veins and freeze every crevice of my known body. I could feel the ephemeral pain prick me on so many places, each once at a time so I could feel the maximum ratio of dread and hurt.

I could hear the drop of glass, and could feel a splinter impale itself in my leg, blood leaking everywhere. The voices were everywhere, shadows that were waiting. The pain pierced through me and I could feel it dig deeper as pressure pressed it further into me and all I could think was-

A hand grasped my shoulders, and I shuddered. I had nowhere to crawl to, and the bright day of Chicago held nowhere for me to hide or escape to. They were going to-

"Shhhh, Riley, look at me. Look at me, please." Another warm hand landed on my shoulder, and the spots across my vision grew larger. For a second, my eyes focused on the person in front of me, shifting myself from my dark reality to whatever the hell this was.

Blonde curls darkened by the night and a strained smile that echoed the day. Eyes that radiated the sun and my own desperate hate. A face so young and vulnerable with so much love and so much concern etched on every tired, rare wrinkle. Beauty that was so untarnished, a heart so whole.

I was hallucinating again, I knew it. It was the same as all the years before when I imagined his face, his soothing voice and the comfort of warm arms. I was hallucinating him, imagining him being there for me in my darkest moments.

My head tore into another world again leaving me kicking and screaming to get back to that hallucination. I flailed my arms around without feeling the stinging of it as my forearms hit the walls around me, looking around frantically and screaming. I didn't want to go back, I couldn't go back.

I could see the dancing shadows across my bedroom again, could feel the black and blue materializing over my body and the feel of stitches and razors. I could feel arms around me, trying to hold me down. Every grip made me feel dizzier and dizzier, and it was a miracle that I hadn't passed out already. Oh god, I wanted to pass out. I didn't want to get caught.

"Riley!"

Stairs. Glass. Blood. Pain.

My head seized once more and I let out a scream of pure agony. I didn't have enough breath to move, and I didn't have enough energy to fight exhaustion. I just wanted it to be over, for everything to just end.

Stairs. Glass. Blood. Pain.

Suddenly, I felt a warmth on my lips. P.

The simply touch grew into pressure, and my eyes widened. I saw him, eyes closed and pulling me closer. L.

I responded, tugging at his lips feverishly. I wanted more and more of him, wanted to believe that this was real U.

He pulled back slowly, as if not to break me, and I kept my eyes closed. I couldn't bare it if none of this was real. T.

His hand stayed solid, grasping at the back of my head. O.

I opened my eyes and looked around before crumbling back to my corner. The blonde hair was nowhere to be seen, and those eyes that could change from the soothing of honey to the green of comfort weren't there to illuminate the room.

I laughed an agonizing, heart-wrenching sound. It was almost funny how I kept wishing, how I kept dreaming, even though each time I woke up from my panic attack resulted in empty darkness. No human touch, no human reassurance, no comfort. I was in one of the most populated places in the world and I had a blog that millions followed thoroughly but that didn't matter.

In the end, I was always alone and no person arriving here could ever change that.


Everyone was cautious around me the morning after and I could almost feel all of the stares on me. I had learned to know Farkle's feelings by his food long ago, and the crepes on my plate were currently a reminder that I had scared him yesterday with my abrupt disappearance. To be fair, I had only went into my room. Plus, it wasn't like I was going to tell him something like, "Hey Farkle, I had a panic attack in my room yesterday night because of a text. Oh, and did I tell you that I've had a lot of these and I've just been trying to hide it? And the story gets even better when I tell you how I got rid of it. I hallucinated the guy that was only a few feet away from me kissing me! How was your night?"

But still, I loved Farkle and I knew he meant the best. I truly couldn't be mad at him for anything really.

Maya was up early for the first time in years and was already situated in the seat next to me leaving the seat across from me to Lucas. Again, I felt the awkwardness of the situation bombard me. I could still feel the pressure on my lips, the butterflies and the genuine feeling of hope. As I tried to avoid eye contact with him, I could feel his eyes pierce into the emptiness of my face. Needless to say, my cheeks felt like a flowing magma waterfall.

"Morning, Riley. How'd you sleep?"

"Do you want the fruit or the chocolate sauce, Riley?"

"Hey, Riley, did you like the chocolate cake from yesterday?"

I graciously accepted whatever they decided to dump on my platter and answered politely to the other questions. I had even allowed Josh to pour plum syrup on my crepes, one of the top ten things on the list of things I hated. Josh had looked so sincere when he did so, however, and I couldn't turn my uncle's face down like that when he genuinely was concerned.

I'm so lucky.

I was thankful, but I really did have to leave. Farkle was already suspicious and I didn't need him thinking that something was seriously wrong. The guy had grown taller and although he was the same sweetheart, he would act on whatever he believed was right, something I might not believe the same in. Farkle had pressured me to do different things many times post-University situation, but I hadn't done any of them for many reasons. If he thought that there was even a chance that I could be threatened in any which way, Farkle would act.

After shoving all my food down my mouth, I rushed over to the kitchen with my plates and dumped them in the sink. When I turned around to go back to the dining room, my route to the door was blocked by another problem. Lucas.

I tried my best not to make eye contact with him once more, but the result ended in a really awkward stare with the suddenly interesting refrigerator and the magnets. The door closed slowly, but the tension grew faster with every second that passed.

"Why can't you look at me?" His voice was low and provoking, and he edged closer to me until it was really, really, hard to look at something other than either his chest or his face, neither of which I particularly wanted to look at of course. Obviously. That'd be stupid, right?

I tried to back away, but the kitchen counter knocked into me and I was left trapped. His presence was intoxicating but, for whatever reason, I wasn't scared. I felt safe and oddly comfortable at the same time that I felt sweaty and nervous.

"Why can't you look at me?" Lucas repeated. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the edge of his lip quirking into a smirk. I wish I could say that I didn't give in, that I was strong enough to resist childish competition, but I wasn't and he knew that.

I whipped my head around and glared at him. I immediately regretted the decision the moment that I saw the green in them, the same one that had glowed in my bedroom yesterday. "I can, see? Now are you going to stand there for the rest of the day or can I get out to go to work? You know, the thing that most regular people go to?"

"You still have a year of schooling to do if you followed the regular bachelor degree cycle and in a school like Chicago, it wouldn't be surprising if it took you longer." Lucas said. His voice was edgy and flat at the same time, and with every word I could feel his breath creep closer. I needed to get out now before I did something I regretted.

I poked my finger in his chest and pressed him back. "I graduated early."

"If you're so smart, you'll tell me what happened yesterday night." He leaned back proudly, clearly unfazed and genuinely unsurprised.

I was touched at his concern, concern I knew was still present in our relationship. I truly did appreciate the caring nature he had, and I could never hold that against him. I had a long list of things I held a grudge for, and the way he cared for his friends was never one. It was the reason I fell in love with him.

"I had a stomach ache."

He rolled his eyes. "Bull."

I sighed. "There really isn't anything I can tell you that you'll believe, so what exactly do you want to hear?"

"What happened?"

He moved even closer, a feat I didn't even know was possible, until his elbows were on the counter next to me. I could feel the heat radiating off him, heat that was reflected through the flush of my cheeks. I was uncomfortable in this, but I didn't feel unsafe, a mystery that I couldn't seem to solve.

I really wanted to say something, to let him know the truth. I had never been able to hide my true feelings from him, and he had always been able to read me better than anyone excluding Maya. Oh god, I wanted to say something so badly.

But I couldn't.

"You looked so scared, Riley, and I don't understand that." His voice was shallow, and the intensity of his stare made me shy away from his gaze. A small chuckle escaped his lips, a sound so hollow that it was almost heartbreaking. "Did you really think there was anything you could do to keep me from helping you?"

Did you really think there was anything you could put in this window to keep me from helping you?

I shook my head, barely able to gain composition. When I spoke, my voice cracked and was too high for my liking. "You don't get to do that to me."

I pushed against him, lightly struggling to move out of his grasp. He didn't budge a touch, and I could feel those weak, petty tears of frustration and humiliation hit me head on. My light touches became harder and, in a few seconds, they became hits against his chest that hurt my knuckles.

"You don't get to be gone for so many years and think that you know me!" A stream of tears fell down my cheek in the same way it had yesterday. He didn't have a right to any of my personal life after all these years when I was struggling, years he wasn't there for me in. "Because you don't know me so get the hell out of my way!"

Lucas still didn't move, and I slid down the cabinet surface just as I had done to my wall yesterday night. The situation was everything I didn't want it to be. Lucas saw me weak and vulnerable. Maybe it was okay yesterday because I really, really needed to get of my panic attack, but the second I was actually in the situation with him, I hated it. I hated that I was so weak to melt down like this. I hated that it was all his fault that I was like this.

He dropped down with me, and I couldn't ignore the darkness of his eyes anymore. I looked through the blur of my eyes and the choked sobs that distorted my vision. "You don't have the right to come in here and be like this."

His eyebrows were scrunched together in the concerned, adorable way I had loved years ago. "I know, but I'm here now."

The air was tense, and I was silent for a few seconds. My tears had calmed, and my temptations had became overwhelming. I just wanted to erase the years adding up to this one, to erase all the pain and the anger. All the blame.

"It's too late." I whispered, my movements slow. "Too much has happened for us to ever be the way we were."

"We don't have to be the people we used to be," he said. When he spoke, it was hard not to follow. His passion, his devotion, was admirable. "We can be different, and I swear to you that we will work through it."

"I can't do that." I shook my head, my words so quiet I could barely hear them. "I can't let myself get hurt again."

He grasped my hands and brought them forward, and I could feel my will chipping away. The anger had left me, and the lack of sleep from yesterday was ultimately catching up to me. "I can protect you."

A chuckle escaped my lips before I could stop it.

"Then tell me, who will protect me from you?"

Silence prevailed, and I slowly separated my hands from his. I smiled tightly, and I rose from my spot on the ground. As I was walking out of the kitchen, I heard Lucas speak once more.

"I don't care if we're just friends or if we just know each other but if something is going on with you, I deserve to know. You were the one who wouldn't answer any of my calls and the one time you called me in university, that one Thursday of sophomore year, I was in a math final. So, I'm begging you, Riley, please tell me what's happening because I've always wanted to know. You just never wanted to respond."

"Trust me," I said softly, "I always wanted to."


That's it, folks! Two emotional, angsty scenes for you all, and it's only going to get more intense down the line. I'll start to move faster, but I really wanted to allow my readers to have a glimpse as to what really happened in University which, of course, will be an important part of the story! And for all those who like or hate Seth, he's already here if you know what I mean.

Hope you enjoyed it!

Xoxo,

Kadecca