Chapter LXVI

A broken and bleeding heart.

Dozens of figures by the waterfall fronting the castle.

Five letters carved into the grave on the left. Seven letters carved on the stone on the right.

Barry.

Novemba.

Nova stood there, looking at the letters Riley had cut into the stone, at the pink gracideas lining it. Barry's body lay beneath the ground, wrapped in a beautiful white suit taken from Volkner's wardrobe. All had been silent as Nova laid her best friend into the ground, kissed his head, cold as the heart in her chest. Staring at that sweet, smiling face forever stilled, those eyes forever closed, that breath forever stolen.

Trying to convince herself she would keep breathing.

She'd been the only one to close the tomb door close. Felt it slam on all the futures she'd seen herself in – with Barry always by her side. All the happy endings she thought they would have. Together.

Then, she rested her forehead against the unyielding rock. Felt like she was exhaling her last bit of hope.

Nothing remained.

Nothing.

She turned, to where legionaries and royals and Joy, Rowan, Vernia and Barry's adoptive mother stood. The pity in their eyes almost broke her, and she quickly looked away.

Sorrow in all their stares. Pain at seeing her pain.

And finally, she looked at Riley, standing as still as the grave rock. Thinking way back to their conversation – way back in Pastoria, what felt far too long ago.

"All that matters is that we remember them, and we let ourselves love other folk."

But with all the hurt in her heart, how could she even think of that? Of leaving him behind? Or growing and seeing wrinkles on her hand and whites in her hair, while Barry lay there, rotting in the ground?

Nova hung her head. Face in her hands. Wondering what came next.

And then came the agony.

Fire burning in her eyes as she cried again and again, loudly and freely, not caring about Volkner or her mother or even bloody Fantina. Pain crawling beneath her skin. She gasped and clutched her chest, falling to her knees, all of the hurt rolling and clawing and biting in her stomach.

The earth beneath her crumbling away and dragging her down. The taste of rot on her tongue. The crushing weight on her chest. The feeling that she was drowning in the stink of blood and iron.

Like the whole world was screaming at her so loudly that her ears would burst.

A voice shone through, cutting through the pain.

"Nova!"

Fire in her heart. Pain shredding through her guts. Everything going dark.

"Nova!"

Riley.

She opened her eyes. Gasping and filmed in sweat.

The Knight on High was crouched beside her, arms wrapped about her, holding her still. Everyone else was wide-eyed, pale, staring at her. In fear. Worry.

"Oh, Arceus," Nova whispered, choking on her own thin voice.

"It's alright," he was saying. "It's…"

"No. It's not."

She tried to catch her breath, still her struggling heart. He frowned.

"Nova?"

Nova knelt on the gravestone, heaving, hair plastered to the tears on her skin. She pressed her knuckles to her temples, her skull close to splitting, dark pain in her ribs.

Her heart still thundering. Her belly full of cold dread.

"I'm right here," Riley was breathing out. "I'm…"

She looked down, shaking her head.

She couldn't see it, but she knew what she would see.

Pity.

And she didn't want it.

"I don't need you," she said softly. When she felt him flinch back, she added, "I need to be alone."

Then, she was standing, rising ever so slowly.

Because, truth was, she didn't want to be alone.

But there was someone else she wanted to see.

For a long time, Nova just ran.

Even when her body told her she had nothing left in her stomach and lungs and legs, she just kept demanding that she move forwards, using reserve within reserve of whatever bank of strength she had left.

Sometimes, she'd rest for a minute. Then she'd run again, her legs weaker each time, her heart tighter.

All the way from Sunnyshore, where Bailey had flown her, to Veilstone. Veilstone to Celestic. Celestic to Mount Coronet, deep into the jaws of rocks where the stones shone gold and the puddles of water flinched from her boots.

Up the marble stairs, the giant backbone that rose to Spear Pillar, curving and shining.

Bailey had beaten her there, with Tric on his back. They were squawking and hissing at the blue Pokémon that towered over them, ignoring his red-eyed glare as they babbled away and snarled.

But she had her own words for him. And with Darkrai sucking away that fear, she strode over to Dialga.

"...NOVEMBER…"

"You selfish arsehole!"

Finally, for the first time in days, she heard Darkrai sigh.

"…real smooth way to speak to the controller of time…"

But Nova didn't stop. She walked right up to the Dialga, the master of bloody time, and shoved her finger at its face.

"You selfish little bastard!"

"…i wouldn't call him little…"

"You shut up, too."

That did it. Her shadow settled back into a still pool beneath her feet.

Dialga only blinked.

"…NOVEMBER…"

"Why?" she cut in. "Why didn't you tell me this would happen? Why didn't you do something?"

"…DO WHAT?..."

"Stop time. Stop him from getting hurt." She gestured down at her feet, adding, "You did it for Darkrai. Why couldn't you do it for my best friend, too? Why just yours?"

"…DARKRAI IS NOT ALIVE. NOT REALLY…"

Nova gritted her teeth, her throat caught in a lock, her hands shaking. "But he's here. He's here."

"…WOULD YOU RATHER HE NOT BE HERE?..."

"Of course not," she snapped. "I love Darkrai. But I want… I want Barry here, too."

She knew she sounded like a child, especially with the way her voice wobbled, the way her face crumpled. But she didn't dare back off, even as Dialga sighed and leaned close.

"…HE IS HERE. JUST LOOK…"

He gestured over to the blue sphere, clear as meltwater glass, shining on a small altar to the side. It was a wonder she hadn't seen it; it was shining like an ocean against the sun, swimming with currents, bathing Spear Pillar with blue.

She didn't know what made her touch it – didn't understand why the teal rings along the surface danced as she approached.

But when she did, the light enveloped Spear Pillar. Swooping arcs of sapphire, a spring sky falling onto the marble. Perfect raindrops of light on their skin.

And she saw him.

Barry.

He was standing still, Cyrus walking past him, their bodies not made of flesh and blood, but a mystic blue light.

"The mind both young and old knows what is right from wrong," Cyrus was saying. "That is what makes them wise…"

Nova felt her heart stop.

She had seen this – in Veilstone, when she had pretended to kill the legionaries.

She was seeing the past.

She was seeing—

Barry, sitting in a cell, chains along his wrist.

"What's the colour you used to tell me about? The one that was like burnt bread? Despair?"

Her own voice answering – not from her throat, but from another ball of light shaped like her. "Black."

"Is that the colour of yer heart?"

"What?"

Then, his smile. As he saw right through her, without needing to see at all. The only one to trust and believe her through the bloodbath.

Barry.

Barry, laughing at Nova and Joy as they argued over what clothes to wear to Byron's gala.

"Barry once gave himself a haircut years ago. I wouldn't stop laughing, and he didn't even give a shit."

"I can't see it," Barry was saying, shrugging. "So it don't be bothering me."

Him joking about marrying Vernia, her own mother. Her slapping him. Joy sighing at them both.

Barry.

Riding on his Empoleon's back, through the desert, no Darkrai in his shadow but still having the damned courage to glide through the sand tentacles and haul Bertha into his arms. All of them running away, Hippowdon just on their tails, the ground quaking. Him banging onto Bertha's Golem with metal sticks.

"Barry, shut that racket up!"

"It scares off the Hippowdon!"

Barry at the tavern later, holding Nova's hand, empty glasses of ale by his side.

"One last battle," he had said. "Please. For the glory."

A sigh from the blue light that had been Nova.

"For the glory."

Barry.

Him and her, walking into the rain for the first time. Him yelling for her over it, laughing, jumping in puddles, dancing. Asking her what rain looked like. Listening to her with the softest of smiles as she rattled on.

"It's like the first time you hear a baby's laugh. It feels like wearing armour and having that one spot near your eyes that isn't covered. And it tastes like tea with no cream."

His smile as she spoke. She had always loved his smile, the way his whole face lit up with it.

But she had never seen how caring it was. How it would settle on where her voice was coming from, a little lopsided, but always warm.

Barry.

Her fight with him before they made it up to the castle. The way he had held the blade over her heart, his face pale when she yielded. The way he had sobbed when he realised how she had tricked him.

Barry.

The night at the tavern, where he spoke about all his lovers. Riley telling them about his love gone wrong with Candice. Barry slamming his hands on the table.

"You must have been one hell of a bad lover, then."

"Aye. Though, I did last more than thirty seconds."

"Oh, aye, getting a lil' cocky now, aren't we?"

And despite herself, Nova was laughing. Crying, but laughing.

His face, the drunken slurs as he spoke, the way he had spat out his drink when Nova reached across the table to punch him.

Barry.

The way he had leapt to his feet when Riley had first decided to be his patron. His first words as a gladiator.

"Piss and blood, wait until I tell me mum!"

Barry watching The Nigh is Twigh, done by the pirates, screaming the loudest as Wake ran his lines.

Barry holding tightly onto Joy as they danced in Byron's mansion.

Barry meeting Darkrai for the first time, his jaw dropped as the Pokémon of nightmares showed him the world without him ever having to see it himself.

Barry flying with her Staravia hoisting him up with a piece of rope. The way he squealed as the wind slapped his face.

Barry holding her hand, just as they were about to walk into the arena and battle Flint.

"It's been the best few months of my life," she had told him.

He had closed his eyes and squeezed her hand.

"Mine too."

Barry, all around her, blue light shrouding him, laughing and dancing and crying and sparring.

The mind both young and old.

Gone.

And yet, she was laughing with him. Her head spinning as each memory twirled around her, sniffling and crying and clawing her own arms. Shaking her head exasperatedly, holding her breath as she watched him battle the battles she knew he had won, feeling a part of her heart drop lower and lower every time she caught his smile on her.

She stayed like that for hours, perhaps. Even as Dialga spoke to her.

"…TIME IS A CRUEL THING, NOVEMBER. IT'S NOT KIND TO ANYONE. ESPECIALLY ME…"

Barry and her, laying together in the castle.

"Look at me, Barry!" Nova was snapping. "I'm a wretch."

Barry, silent, not with anger. But staring thoughtfully towards her, a smile on his face – one that was haunting with how sly it was.

"I'm looking," he was telling her. "I can't see. But I'm looking."

"And what do you see?"

Dialga's voice, cutting through it. "…I HAVE TO SIT HERE AND WATCH IT HAPPEN. I SEE A BABY BE BORN, BUT I SEE THE MOTHER DIE AS SHE GIVES BIRTH. AND WATCH AS EVERYONE MUST MOVE ON…"

Barry standing, reaching over to find her face. Her, letting him place his hand on her cheek, letting it linger there.

"I see someone whose been wanting to change Sinnoh for a lot longer than Riley himself."

"…BUT YOU'RE NEVER ALONE. YOU, ESPECIALLY…"

And, finally, with Dialga and Darkrai and Infernape and Staraptor watching her, Nova released the Adamant Orb. Watched as every blue memory of Barry disintegrated into sparks of blue along the ground.

"I feel alone," she said softly.

Dialga leaned forwards, placing his large head only inches away from hers.

"…I KNOW…"

Of all Nova's Pokémon, Tatiana was admittedly the one who hadn't been too distraught over Flint's battle – she hadn't met Barry until Canalave, and even then, she had spent more time growing up around Nova alone.

So she had taken it upon herself to approach Barry's Empoleon. Maybe try to cheer her up a bit.

Once she got there, standing by the Empoleon, who had remained a statue by her old gladiator's grave, she realised she was blanking.

She offered a small growl.

Nothing.

She waved her claws around, spat a little purple ember by the Empoleon's feet. Rhys had always loved to fight when he was down.

But the Empoleon didn't even raise her eyes towards Tatiana. Still as the stone behind her.

Tatiana did everything – sang a little tune. Danced a circle around the Empoleon. Considered pushing her into the waterfall for a ride.

But then she heard Rhys snarl, whirled around. The Luxray was glaring at her, shaking his head. Then, he was strolling over to the Empoleon.

Tatiana snorted. What could Rhys possibly do that would make the Empoleon move—

And she stared as Rhys just stood beside the Empoleon. Also going still. Not moving, his breaths slow and steady.

Just standing there.

Seconds passed. Then minutes.

And finally, the Empoleon leaned on Rhys for support, making small whimpering sounds.

Then, as Rhys and Tatiana exchanged glances, the Garchomp finally understood.

She moved over to the Empoleon's side. Stood there.

And together, they just stared as the sun dipped into the ground.

Later that night, Nova found herself walking out of Spear Pillar. Her shoulders less slumped, her face not as pale. Infernape by her side, Staraptor just over her head.

She walked, this time. And people who saw her immediately recognised her, parting as she made her way through them.

Down to Hearthome.

A little boy stopped her along the way, his mother hissing at him to leave the poor gladiator alone. But he only reached out for her sleeve, his voice so small.

"Was it scary?" he asked.

"Sorry?" was all Nova could say through her scratched, raw voice.

He blinked with his big, black eyes. "Was it scary? Watching him…?" He trailed off, as if he couldn't say the words himself.

So Nova said it for him.

"Die?"

As she said it, it was like another rock had dropped into her stomach.

Like it was real.

The boy nodded. "Aye."

"Aye," Nova answered. She crouched down for him, watching him intently. His grubby little face. His calloused hands. The hopes and dreams and curiosity in his eyes. "I'm still scared."

"Really? But it's all over, aye?"

She smiled, shaking her head.

"No. I don't think it is."

Days of walking. Down the marshes. Where he had first met Novemba, his Ponyta.

Then to Pastoria.

She nearly stopped and turned back as she reached Wake's home, the large wooden doors looking almost unyielding before her.

But she knocked, and when a maid came to answer the door, she swallowed back the pain in her throat.

"I've come to see Wake. Is he—"

She stopped when she heard the crying. It was different to the crying she had heard over the past few days – it was small and thin, confused and…

A baby.

"I'm sorry, miss," the maid was saying. "He's a little bit busy—"

But Nova shoved past her, ignoring the maid's yelps as she let herself into the Backlot mansion. Twisting through the hallways, her heart racing, her eyes already wet—

And she burst into Lady Spiral's room.

There the woman was, lying on a bed, her cheeks rosy and a warm smile on her face as she cradled a small baby to her chest. Wake was only a step away, watching both of them with the biggest grin on his face, his hand on his heart, tears in his eyes.

So much love. Raw love.

So much of it, even without Barry. It almost made her mad – how could people look like that? So happy, when someone so dear to them was no longer with them? When the boy who had been most excited for the baby would never get to touch its hair, its soft face?

"November?"

Spiral's voice, snapping Nova out of it. They were all staring at her. She stepped back.

"I'm sorry…" she managed to say. "I don't know what I…"

"Come in," Wake quickly said. Then, lowering his voice, he added, "We heard the news. We're sorry."

Spiral nodded, lowering her eyes to the baby in her hands. "She was born on the same day."

Nova didn't know what to say. Whether to smile or cry. To leave or stay.

So, she just dumbly asked, "It's a girl?"

"Aye," Lady Spiral said.

"Have ye… named her yet?"

Wake strode over to her, clamping her shoulder with his big hand. "Nay. We were hoping you'd help us."

That was too much for Nova. She couldn't even look at the baby – not without wanting to sink to her knees and cradle it and cry.

But as she turned on her heel to leave the couple be, shaking her head, she paused.

"August."

Wake and Spiral glanced over at her, brows arched. "August?"

Nova nodded. And when the tears fell, she didn't try to leave. She turned towards them, smiling.

"Gussy for short."

More days of walking. East from Pastoria, to Sunnyshore. Where they had found their last legionary crystal.

It was strange pushing her way into Volkner's home, where so many maids and men dusting paintings paused to stare at her. Freezing, as if the air around her had a charge, a static, that made them still.

She moved into Volkner's room, gently shoving the golden doors open. He lay there, on his bed, Joy hovering near him as she slathered ointments over his wounds and wrapped them with thick bandages.

Joy looked like a ghost, with dark rings beneath her eyes, her usually deft and fluid hands nothing but robotic and stoic. But Nova focused on the legionary for a second, even bowing her head slightly.

"I wanted to say thank you," she quickly said. "For making sure he won that race."

Both Volkner and Joy froze. The girl's hands trembling. The man looking at her, blue eyes shining, his mouth left hanging slightly. Then, he nodded.

"When I saw you both in Twinleaf," he said softly, "I never once thought all of us would end up as we are now."

He glanced out the window, to where the castle stood, just an ocean away. It wasn't much from this far – just a few grey towers, and a tint of pink by the statues. The gracidea flowers, Nova realised; the ones they had showered over Barry's tomb.

Nova turned towards Joy, who was already buttoning her bag shut.

It was tense between them. Neither knew what to say – how to say it. The last time someone they had both loved had gone, they hadn't held each other; they had loathed each other. Both of them blaming Nova.

The gladiator couldn't help but feel as if it was all the same again.

Her fault.

Her f—

"I don't want to do nothing and grow old and feel like I've wasted all these years."

That's what he had told her.

He had wanted to fight.

And he had died with a smile on his face.

"For the glory."

Nova lifted her gaze.

"Joy."

The pink-haired girl froze, her voice softer than her breaths as she said, "Aye?"

"Can you hold…" Nova trailed off as Joy looked at her. Shattered green eyes. Glassy. Hurting. And, with her arms outstretched, she tried again, saying, "Can I hold you for a moment?"

Instantly, Joy was in her arms. It was an embrace stronger than anything Nova had felt – as if holding her wasn't quite enough, and she just had to press everything she had into the girl before her.

And, despite the way Joy sobbed into her shoulder, Nova couldn't help it.

She felt alive. Protected. Safe. Loved.

No one would ever be Barry – her Barry. No one would ever laugh in the rain the way he did, or love the way he did.

But there were still others who loved her.

There always would be.

A week of staring at the ocean, silently. Then, more days of travelling; this time, waiting for Owl to come to Sunnyshore and help her swim across.

North from the beaches. Into the castle.

They had offered her a new room, away from the one she had shared with Barry. She hadn't answered them at the time, hadn't even been able to speak or look Lucian in the eye.

Now, though, she padded her way through the halls, fingers tracing the walls until she heard it – more crying. So different to the thin squeals of the baby, completely different from her own howls and Joy's whimpers. It was quieter, more muffled, and—

Riley.

I don't need you. That's what she had told him when he had reached for her.

But standing there, leaning against the door, the stones heavy in her stomach, she cursed.

She had thought he was reaching out to comfort her. Not once had she considered that he was reaching out for her to comfort him.

She knocked briefly at the door.

"Riley?"

The crying stopped for a second. And when she opened the door, she found him on the floor, leaning against the wall, his knees huddled to his chest as he burrowed his head and wept.

Nova didn't say anything. She just moved to his side, sinking down to the floor, their arms brushing. Backs against the wall, a hand reaching out for the other.

When Riley felt her hand gently lay on his own, he finally took a broken breath.

"When you both got hit by the fire…" he whispered, turning her gaze onto his. "I thought I lost both of you. And I don't know what I would have done. Without both of you."

Nova hadn't even thought of that. Had forgotten all about the ache in her shoulder, the wound that had bled through all night after the fight.

Still, she lay her head on his shoulder.

"I'm here," she told him. "I'm here."

"If I hadn't sponsored him…"

"Riley."

"I'm sorry."

Nova shook her head, pushing herself of the wall. Instead, she moved to face him, tangling her hands in his hair and forcing him to look up. Look at her with his red-rimmed eyes.

"You are the best thing that's happened to us," she said, ignoring the way her own voice shook, the way she almost sounded hysterical. "To me and Barry."

"If I hadn't been so worried about my Clefable, if I just fucking exposed them myself without dragging you into this—"

"They would have assassinated all three of us. You, me, and Barry. Quietly, while we slept. None of us would get to say goodbye."

Riley's eyes stayed on her as her hands slipped down to his cheeks, holding him there.

"I wish I had gotten to say goodbye," he said. "I wish I could tell him that he was my best friend."

Nova nodded slowly.

She had wished that, too. So many times in the past two weeks of roaming across Sinnoh. She had been right there, the only one to hold him through his last breaths, and she hadn't been able to say a word. She had been a coward. Too shocked to even tell him how much she loved him.

But…

"He already knew," she said. "And it wasn't goodbye. I feel him. Don't you?"

"Nova…"

"We're the will of steel, the heart of gold, and the mind both young and old." She gave him a wry, thin, strangled smile. "I don't even think fucking death can separate us."

That made him smile, finally. He leaned into her chest, and she held him to her heart, both of them bathing in the silence.

At some point, he fell asleep in her arms, and she managed to haul him onto the bed. But as she turned to leave and push the door open, she found another face staring at her.

Purple hair. Thick glasses. A slight frown as he looked at the paper in his hands.

Lucian.

"November," the royal said. "My condolences."

Nova nearly scowled. "What do you want?"

"We're a bit confused, that's all. We understand you won't be continuing with the Elite Trial, so if you could sign this to say you are finished—"

"Who told you that?"

He arched his brow. "Well, with Barry…"

"I'm alive," she snapped. "Why can't I do it on my own?"

She didn't know why she was saying it – this hadn't been her dream. She didn't care about fighting Queen Cynthia, nor did she want to look at these royals a second longer. Even if the thought of them constantly lying to the people of Sinnoh, letting places like Twinleaf fester and rot, made her stomach twist.

"Do you want to do it on your own?" Lucian asked.

A spiteful, bitter edge of her heart said yes. She wanted to do it, just to see Lucian pale and shudder in fear. Besides, it was what Barry would have wanted, nay?

Nay.

He wanted her to do what she wanted.

And what did she want?

What did she want?

Nova snatched the paper from Lucian's hand. Made a show of reading it, when really, it was just a scribble of ink on yellowed paper to her. Then, she snorted.

"I'm not signing this."

Lucian frowned, leaning close, his voice as cold as ice.

"Are you doing it for revenge?" he hissed. "For your friend? Trying to be noble, November?"

Nova scowled right back, resisting the urge to grab him by his pretty throat and shove him out of the room.

Instead, she tilted her head coolly.

"No. I'm doing it for me."

Lucian stepped back slightly, mouth agape.

"I'm doing it for what I want," Nova hissed, stepping closer. "And you know what I want?"

The royal was speechless as her voice hardened, his hand moving for the blade on his belt. Nova saw his fingers curl around the hilt, and she shook her head, jabbing her own finger at his chest.

"I want a Sinnoh not led by people like you. People who wanted us to die, but walk into the room to wish their condolences or whatever the fuck that means."

"You're a murderer, too," Lucian shot back. "Don't act all high and mighty. I've seen you kill."

But he was moving backwards, like he couldn't bear to be too close.

"Aye, I'm a murderer," Nova admitted. "But you know what makes us different?"

"What?"

"I do the dirty work for myself," she spat. "No one does it for me."

Lucian laughed coldly, at the grief in her face, the ice cold determination in her eyes. "Oh, so you do the killing. That makes you so much better."

But Nova only nodded, taking another step, backing him into the wall of the hall.

"Aye, I do," she said. "I don't cower and pretend I didn't mean to do it. I bloody own it. So when I say sorry, I mean it. And when I say I want to change, I mean that."

She saw his blade move for her before he even decided where he would aim. And with a quick clasp of his wrist, she twisted his arm, wrenching the dagger away with her other arm.

And now, with his blade in her hand, so close to his throat, Lucian began to truly sweat.

Because everyone had seen her grow from Twinleaf to here – everyone knew exactly what her rage and love and spite could do. How much it could destroy.

"If you kill me," he managed to hiss, "I will—"

And Nova brought the dagger down.

Not into him. Not into his heart of face or bollocks.

But into the paper he had given her. Pinning it into the wall, and sliding it through the paper until it was two fragments on the ground.

"I'm not signing it," she said again. "I can't write or read, anyways."

Lucian felt his heart pounding in his chest. "You're going to regret this."

"Not anymore than I would regret seeing people like you rule over Sinnoh."

Then, she let his blade clatter on the floor, and turned back to Riley's room. Slammed the door behind her.

The Knight on High was sitting up on the bed, staring at her with wide eyes.

Nova felt her own heart pounding madly, breathing hard as she leaned against the door.

"What in the shitting shadows have I gotten myself into?"

Thank you to the brave souls you survived past the last chapter. I know it was a lot – it was actually really hard for me to sit down and write this, knowing that, as a writer, I would never get the opportunity again to create dialogue for Barry, to give him more quirky stories and to see him grow more. It was actually really hard for me, strangely enough!

For anyone still struggling, I highly recommend you read Plegian Gengar's review in the review section – it's been really insightful and helpful, I think.

This chapter was more or less to honour Barry. I did it partly for reader and writer here; I'm not sure exactly what y'all wanted to see, but as the writer, I wanted to say one last goodbye to him before I moved on, and going back on some of the memories and reading back old chapters really hit me hard as I did that.

It's strange being a writer, and knowing how close this is coming to an end. Even though these characters are based off the fictional characters from the Pokémon franchise, I find myself wanting to say thank you – thank you to Barry, for teaching me about what it means to be a light throughout times of despair, even though I was the one creating and shaping and writing you. Thank you to even Bebe, for reminding me of how powerful and how fragile friendship and life can be. And, of course, no surprise, my biggest thank you will end up going to November.

But her story isn't over just yet. So we will wait.

And more than anything, and this isn't so weird, I want to say thank you to anyone reading this. For sharing this love with me and watching and helping me grow as a writer.

ALSO DOES ANYONE HERE FOLLOW EUROVISION? HOW AMAZING WAS SWITZERLAND'S ENTRY?