Note from the Author: Okay, I got another chapter out. Again, not the greatest, but it didn't take as long to write as the last one, so I'm getting somewhere at least... salt in the snow: Yeah, I know Denny doesn't seem like the nicest person right now, but he's not a stereotypical villain. Not gonna spoil anything for you by telling you about it, but there's a reason behind everything he does.

Thanks for continuing to read!

Chapter Twenty Five

Fuel

I was on my way to Mirabelle's to pick up some animal medicine when I spotted Lanna standing over by the well in front of the shop. Now usually I would have just ignored her, but something caught my eye: she wasn't wearing that ugly green dress she usually wore. Instead she was wearing a long black dress with her hair tied up neatly instead of being left long. It struck me as even weirder when I realised that she wasn't wearing any make-up. She quietly sobbed to herself by the side of the well and I figured that maybe she was just crying about the whole Denny thing. Not wanting to get involved, I headed inside the shop and picked up the medicine I needed. It was just as I was leaving the shop a few minutes later that I suddenly saw what it was that Lanna was intending to do.

"What are you doing?!" I roared, dropping the medicine bottle in my hands and running over to stop her as she began letting herself topple over the edge of the well. Grabbing her by the waist, I grappled with her as she struggled with me.

"Let go of me! Let me die!" she shrieked like a banshee, squirming in my grip as I slowly managed to put her back on her feet. "I'm sick of my life! Just let me finish it!" I'd always thought she was pretty unhinged, but I hadn't realised that she was suicidal.

"How can you be sick of your life?!" I yelled. "You've barely even started it!"

"What would you know? What would you know about me and my life? You don't know anything about me!" she spat back as I forced her to stand upright. I could smell alcohol on her breath and it was clear from how she had trouble forming her words properly that she was very drunk.

"Well I know enough to know that killing yourself is the stupidest option you could have picked," I replied as I kept my grip on her arm firm so she didn't try throwing herself down the well again. "Suicide is a coward's way out, and you don't look like a coward to me."

Her lip began to tremble and I rolled my eyes heavenward when she burst out crying once more and collapsed against my chest. Her tears soaked through my shirt as she wailed and I limply put an arm around her in a half-hearted attempt to seem like I was trying to comfort her. What had I gotten myself into? I'd had no intention of becoming this girl's agony uncle. In fact, I'd always made a point to avoid her since she always liked calling me Vaughny and eyed me up like I was a piece of meat about to be seasoned, grilled and eaten for dinner. And yet there I was, trying to comfort her and dissuade her from committing suicide over some guy.

After her tears stopped and were reduced to a faint sniffle I cleared my throat loudly and asked, "So... are you okay now? No more suicide attempts?"

"Will you l-listen to me for a while?" she asked, ignoring my questions. "I don't particularly care if you judge me for what I'm about to say, but I ju-just want someone to hear it."

Listening to her drunkenly whine about her life was much easier than trying to stop her from committing suicide again, so I nodded and watched warily as she leant against the edge of the well to steady herself. She took a deep, quivering breath before saying, "Nothing seems to ever go right in my life." I snorted at this and she shot me a dirty look. "You don't believe me?" she slurred incredulously. "I was born as the white trash daughter of a junkie barmaid. My father used to be the pastor of the local church, but when he died of a heart attack my mom's attitude towards life took a nosedive and I was dragged along for the ride. For the first sixteen years of my life I learned to look after myself and not depend on anyone. Then I was scouted by a modelling agency one night at the bar my mom worked and she forced me to join. 'It's the only thing you're good for' she used to say to me."

"Where is she now?" I asked her.

"Who? My mom? Hell if I know. She's probably overdosed herself to death on all the money she claimed from me at the start of my career. After Bubble Pop was released, I paid a lawyer to help me legally separate from her so that I wouldn't have to deal with her asking me for money as I got more famous. I haven't spoken to her since."

"You don't miss her? Surely she must have done something right for you when you were growing up?"

"I don't think she ever loved me properly. After dad died, she stopped pretending since she didn't need to keep up an appearance in front of him anymore," she replied bitterly. She wiped away some tears that had started forming in her eyes again. "When I was scouted by the agency she didn't even congratulate me. She said 'finally, you've become useful'. Useful. That's all she cared about. I don't even know how my dad fell in love with a woman like her. From what I know of him from our neighbours, he was a good man. A man of the church. He would have hated it if he'd been alive to see me go into showbiz. I hated it too, at first. But I figured it was better to be told what to do by all those suits than sit at home watching my mum drink and snort herself to death. I tried to cling to my morals as my modelling career turned to singing, but my first single flopped and they were considering dropping me completely."

She paused for a moment and rubbed her eyes. As she spoke I could hear that she was beginning to sober and I allowed myself to relax a little, since I'd been worried she would try throwing herself down the well again.

"The only time things ever went well for me is when I cast aside my morals and my dignity and agreed to do that stupid music video. That's the only time. I didn't want to do it – but my manager pressured me and I relented. And I became a success because of it. The hours of gruelling dance training, choreography classes and live show promotions turned me into a sex icon. 'Chin up darling!' my choreographer would say. 'Chin up, bum and breasts out! Seduce the world!' And that's what I did. I became a one hit wonder and the success after that... well, I felt like my life was finally coming together. When it came to releasing other songs from my album, I refused to film overtly sexual videos. One was enough, I used to think to myself. My fans will love me for my music now that I have their attention. But oh how wrong I was... They all bombed. After the initial media mania over my video subsided and other young starlets started putting out videos similar to mine, my fame died with my record sales. My manager kept trying to get me to make another video, but I just didn't see the point anymore. And that's why I quit. I moved out here to avoid it all and when I got here I found Denny; this handsome, perfect and seemingly wonderful guy that I totally adored. Okay, so maybe he smelled like fish all the time, but I didn't care. I know it may seem delusional, but I wanted to start a new life here with him. He just seemed so normal and grounded and seemed so... real. And he seemed to like me back. I really fell in love with him... But then he met that fucking bitch."

"Hey now, don't talk about her like that," I interjected sharply, knowing that she was talking about Chelsea before she'd even uttered her name.

"It's all her fault," Lanna continued, ignoring me. "The minute he met her he started finding excuses to avoid me and go see her. He'd ask me questions about her even though I didn't even know her. He would always stare at her whenever he got the chance and then he dumped me. He dumped me in the cruellest way possible. And in front of Julia as well, who I know hates me. They all hate me... the girls on these islands... They remember my video and think I'm a slut. I mean, I don't blame them. Why do you think I wear that stupid dress? I've been trying to change how they saw me, but it didn't work. Nothing worked. I'm hated. I thought I could bear it if I could just have Denny, but now that he doesn't want me anymore... I just don't think I can carry on. I have no home to go back to and no friends to call. I have nothing."

"I still don't think you have enough reason to kill yourself. You're only... what? Twenty one?" I guessed.

"I'm nineteen," she replied.

"See, you're young. You've got another seventy odd years left in you at least. Don't waste them just because some guy dumped you," I told her. "Get some perspective girl."

"I wasn't doing it just because Denny dumped me. I'm just tired of living my life. It's just shit after shit with no end in sight," she mumbled back.

"Life's obstacles are character building."

"What would you know about it? You look like you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth," she hissed at me viciously, shifting away from me in irritation.

"I wasn't actually," I told her. I didn't want to elaborate, but I could tell from the way she was looking at me that I would have to. "My father was a philanderer and my mother left us when I was a baby. I'm not saying that I was poor or anything, but I grew up with a missing parent as well."

"Now it makes sense," she said as if she'd just solved some great mystery.

"What does?"

"Why you seem to hate women," she told me, the faint vestiges of a smile tugging at her mouth. "I bet you have abandonment issues."

"I don't," I grumbled. "Anyway, we're talking about you here. Not me."

"Regardless, I don't think you can compare our situations. You haven't had your heartbroken, so you wouldn't know what it's like."

I took my hat off and looked up at the sky. "You couldn't be more wrong about that."

Intrigued, she stared up at me. "Oh?"

"I've had my heart broken before. I was engaged, but she called it off because I wasn't 'suitable' for her. She has 'daddy' issues." I'm not sure why I decided to divulge that to her. Usually I didn't like talking about myself to strangers, especially not ones that I found as annoying as I found her, but she seemed to need someone to identify with and I was probably as close as she was going to get at that moment.

"Love sucks," was all she said in response, but I could tell that she was feeling a little better. Misery does love company after all.

"As for your situation with Denny, I wouldn't blame Chelsea too much," I said.

Lanna scoffed. "Why wouldn't I? She must have been doing something to lure him away from me."

"On the contrary. She's been very reluctant," I told her.

"Is that why I saw her going to Denny's house last night?" she asked me scathingly. "When she came out she looked like she was seriously reconsidering going back there and staying the night."

"But she didn't," I pointed out.

I had trouble trying not to sound too proud of the fact that Chelsea hadn't stayed the night. When I'd turned up at her farm early that morning, I was glad to find that the little farmer was awake and already at work. I didn't ask her how the date went; I didn't want to know. All I wanted to know was that she wasn't rushing headlong into a relationship with the fisherman and she was taking her time. While the part of me that wanted her for myself was relieved for my own selfish reasons, I was mostly glad for her sake. I understood that she was still trying to get over Mark, and that rebounding on someone wasn't the best way to deal with it.

"I don't care whether she did or she didn't," Lanna hissed. "She's probably just holding out because she thinks it'll keep him hooked for longer. That's how girls like her operate."

I suppressed the urge to yell at Lanna for assuming Chelsea was a whore and instead said, "We should get you home. You must be freezing out here in that dress."

"Yeah, you're right," Lanna said, rubbing the sides of her arms. "I didn't realise it till now."

I led her across the islands, ignoring the looks of the locals who were staring at us and when we reached the door to her house I turned to her and asked, "You're not gonna try killing yourself again, are you?"

"No," she replied tiredly. "I've sobered up a little. Not exactly sure what I was thinking."

"You should stop drinking," I told her sternly.

"I know... It's just all I seem to want to do right now. I keep thinking that it'll make it easier for me to forget it all but it never does."

"And that's why I don't drink."

"Yeah, well, you're a bit straight laced," she replied bitingly.

"It's better to be straight laced than to get drunk and try to throw myself down a well," I retorted.

"Yeah, I know," she replied as she pushed open her door. I was just about to turn and leave, but I stopped when she called after me. "Thanks," she said with a very small smile. "For stopping me just now, and for listening."

"Just don't do it again," I told her sternly.

After she went inside and I headed back down the road towards the bridge, I pulled my iPhone out of my pocket and hit Julia's speed dial number. It rang only twice before she picked it up.

"Sup cuz?" she greeted me with a faux-gangster voice. "Rare for you to be calling me up. And weren't you downstairs not too long ago?"

"I was, but then I got a bit sidetracked by that little pop-star trying to throw herself down the Couples' well outside your shop."

"What?!" Julia shouted down the phone. "She did what?!"

"Yeah, you heard me. She tried to kill herself. So do me a favour, go round to her house later today and just make sure she's alright. She seems to be under the impression that you hate her," I told her.

"Well, I kinda do... but not enough to want her to top herself," she confessed, sounding worried. "Was she doing it because of Denny? I didn't realise she'd become so emotionally attached to him. I thought the two of them were just screwing around."

"See? This is what happens when you interfere and force two people together – you lose sight of the other people involved."

"Oh no," Julia said warningly. "Don't try and blame this on me. I didn't know she was mentally unstable in that way."

"Yeah, well, now you do. So go over there and talk to her later," I said before hanging up.

As I passed the local library I was reminded that I hadn't been to see Sabrina in over three weeks. I'd avoided going to Sprout Island as much as possible in an attempt to avoid her and I can't say that I felt particularly guilty about it. I knew that Sabrina had been desperately trying to find me, since Carol kept notifying me that Sabrina was always asking after me at the hotel, but I didn't care . Things were different now. I wasn't going to indulge in her behaviour anymore.

I clearly remember the first time I met Sabrina. It had been on the first day she'd arrived. Not wanting her in the way whilst the movers unpacked, her father had shooed her out of the house and she'd been left to explore the quiet streets of Sprout Island on her own. I had just been leaving the hotel when I saw her wandering down the street and I was struck dumb by how beautiful she was. Big beautiful eyes, pale skin that seemed to glow in the sunlight and long black hair that was left long and untouched by a stylist's scissors. To me she epitomised purity. I noticed that something fell out of her pocket and hurried to give it back to her.

"You dropped this," I told her as I held the small amethyst pendent out to her. "Is this pendent yours?"

"Oh! Y-Yes, it is!" she exclaimed, though made no move towards me to reclaim it. She seemed frightened of me almost.

"If it's important to you, you ought to keep it safe," I said as I took a step towards her to give it back to her. That's when I noticed that a couple of the links in the chain were bent and the clasp was completely broken. "The chains broken."

"Y-Yes, it's been like that for a while now," she replied sadly.

"You're not going to fix it?" I asked her, moving closer still. Her eyes came up to meet mine and I felt my heart skip.

"Well... I can't fix it, exactly... Father doesn't know I have this pendant. So I can't ask for his help to fix it. I usually just keep it in my pocket anyway. It's usually safe there," she said.

"But you just dropped it," I told her with raised eyebrows as she finally reached out to take the pendant from my hands. I found it a little strange that she couldn't go to someone else to have the necklace fixed but made no comment about it.

"Yes...Thank you for picking it up and returning it to me," she replied, her cheeks colouring as she looked away shyly.

"Do you want me to fix it for you?" I asked her, motioning to the necklace as she examined it to make sure it wasn't damaged any further.

She looked startled. "You'd do that for me?"

"It's no problem," I told her, taking the necklace back from her quicker than she anticipated. She jumped slightly and looked panicked as I brought the chain up to my eye level so I could examine the pendant closely.

"N-No! It's okay! You've done more than enough!" she exclaimed nervously, reaching out to try and take it back. I dodged her and continued to work on the clasp as she kept trying to grab it. It took a while, since she kept making me move and lose my grip, but I eventually managed to tighten the small links and repair the clasp well enough for it to be wearable again.

"There, just like new," I said as I took her hand and dropped the necklace into her outstretched palm. Her skin was warm and soft and I knew I was probably blushing.

"Th-That was fast," she said, looking at the necklace with growing delight as she realised that it really was fixed.

"Just take better care of it from now on so it doesn't break again," I told her with a nod, releasing her hand.

She pulled her hand up to her chest as she said, "This pendant belonged to my mother. This is my only keepsake of her."

I opened my mouth before thinking. "She kick the bucket?"

Looking annoyed, Sabrina wrinkled her nose and replied, "My dad says she did, but I'm not too sure."

"Sorry," I said, cringing at my insensitivity. "Didn't mean to pry or anything."

Her expression softened and she smiled gently, her whole face lighting up as she did. "No, it's okay. You helped immensely. Thank you."

Feeling shy but still wanting to know her name, I outstretched my hand to her and introduced myself, "Vaughn."

"Nice to meet you Vaughn, I'm Sabrina," she replied politely, taking my hand in hers and shaking it gently. I shook it back, though I was slightly scared of squeezing too hard – I was afraid I might scare her off by being too rough with her.

"Anyway, I better get going. See ya," I said nervously, before striding off to Verdure again with my cheeks burning.

As I bought another bottle of medicine to replace the one I had dropped earlier, I pondered to myself why Sabrina had changed so much from when I first met her. What if she hadn't changed at all? What if she'd always been that way but I'd merely been blinded to it? I went through my memories of her in my head all the way back to Chelsea's farm, but when I spotted the little farmer all thoughts of Sabrina vanished.