A/N

Warning: This chapter contains themes of alcoholism, dubious consent, and references to child abuse.

If there was anything today had shown, it was that Zuko had become a lesser man than he'd been before his banishment. He'd become a coward.

He'd been sitting here in this war meeting since a little after dawn, going along with the atrocities the high council of the Fire Lord was planning. To his side, his father and sister, also seated atop the suspended dais, were listening to the council and occasionally offering up an idea that was somehow even more inhumane than the last one. He had mostly stopped listening after his father had declared he'd be burning the entirety of the Earth Kingdom to the ground, as though the millions of lives they'd be taking were nothing more than statistics. Zuko simply couldn't stomach any more of it. And yet, he didn't speak up against the plans either, afraid that this meeting would end up with him in the Agni Kai Arena just like the last one. Coward.

As the meeting dragged out from morning till late into the night, he could feel his energy waning along with his firebending. And the metal armor on his shoulders felt a hundred times heavier than its actual weight, pressing down him like it was trying to sink him underground. He was relieved when the meeting was finally declared over, and politely declined the generals and noblemen that wanted a word with him, alleging he was tired and needed to excuse himself. And he was—it'd been a long day—but more than that, he needed some time to process everything he'd just witnessed.

His eyes were fixed on the floor and his lips were sloped downward in a scowl as he walked down the hallway, passing by Mai, who was leaning on the wall waiting for him.

"So, how did it go?" she asked, stepping in line with him.

"When I got to the meeting, everyone welcomed me," he said softly without slowing down or looking up. "My father had saved me a seat. He wanted me next to him. I was literally at his right hand."

"Zuko, that's wonderful! You must be happy."

He wished he was, but he knew he'd never quite achieve happiness. Moments of joy, maybe, but true happiness was an impossibility for him—too good to be true, always one step out of his reach. Yet he couldn't complain either. Cowards didn't deserve happiness.

The two teenagers stopped at the intersection of two hallways and stared up at the official painting of the Fire Lord looming over them, somehow appearing more daunting than in person.

"During the meeting, I was the perfect prince. The son my father wanted." Zuko looked down and closed his eyes. "But I wasn't me."

After a beat, he felt his girlfriend put a hand on the armor on his shoulder. "Come, let's go back to mine. This place is miserable."

A little more than 10 minutes and a quiet palanquin ride later, they were back at her house. Mai dismissed the servants that were waiting for orders in the middle of her living room, next to the table with bottles of sake and water and plates of beverages all laid out atop it. The servants bowed to their prince and lady, then noiselessly slipped out of the room. While they closed the door behind them, Mai strode over to the table in front of the couch that looked out on the Royal Palace, Zuko following some steps behind her.

"How was your day?" he asked as she poured herself a cup of water.

She gave a shrug of her shoulder and sipped her drink. "I think I visited every single shop in the city because Ty Lee just had to buy some clothes that're apparently all the rave now, and then I waited for you the rest of the day. So, yeah, it wasn't awfully fun."

"Sorry to hear that."

"Me too."

The prince walked over to his girlfriend and hugged her from behind. His hands found her hips.

"Come to bed with me," he whispered in her ear. He tried to put as much charm into his words as he could, even though he knew social interactions or charisma had never been his strong suits. But she used to like it when he spoke like this, and he himself seriously needed to let off some steam after that horrid meeting.

He felt her tense a little in his arms. She turned her head just enough that she could see him in her peripheral vision, and murmured, "Zuko, I'm not in the mood." Her tone wasn't harsh at all, but she was very clearly certain in her decision.

Zuko let his head fall to the crook of her neck.

"Please," he pleaded. Just saying that word, admitting to her that he needed her support, sickened him, but he felt like he had no other choice anymore—he needed her physical comfort, but he knew she wouldn't give it to him unless he asked her outright.

Mai set down her cup on the table, gently removed his hands from her hips, and turned around with a tight smile on her face. "Another night."

Zuko's frown deepened. "You've been saying that for weeks."

Her smile fell. "I'm tired, okay? Give me a break."

She stepped past him to sit down on the couch. With a heavy sigh, Zuko flopped down beside her. He tipped his neck back against the puffy cushions, studying the stone ceiling above briefly, then closed his eyes.

He didn't know why he'd even bothered to ask her, really. Of course she'd turn him down. They hadn't had any decent sex since the first days of their relationship. Why would she want to sleep with him now?

Their first couple of times had been awkward for the both of them—Zuko hadn't been able to stop blushing and hadn't dared to open his mouth until he was finished because he was too scared that the only sounds coming out of him would be squeaks and moans—but they'd had their fair share of fun nevertheless. Now, Mai rarely ever got wet enough for him to be with her without hurting her, and Zuko himself had begun having…complications.

But what really drove the final nail in the coffin, more than the unimaginable shame and embarrassment of not being able to stay hard, if he could get it up at all, was that no matter what he'd done, he'd never been able to get her off, not even in their best of days. He'd never gotten her to moan his name like he'd read in those romance scrolls he'd found in the palace library. He'd tried all the methods he'd read in those scrolls—with his mouth, fingers and whatnot—but all of his attempts had ended in vain.

There'd also been a few times where he'd seen her roll her eyes while he was doing his best to pleasure her, but he didn't want to think about those.

"Are you mad at me?"

His eyes slowly peeled open. "No," he replied, sitting upright in his seat, "I'm not."

And he really wasn't. How could he, when it was his fault he was as much a disappointment in bed as he was in every other aspect of his life.

He sighed once more, much more deeply than the previous one, then leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees, and stared at the palace across the street, at his home. But it wasn't his home—not really. This imposing palace that glowed like a beacon of power amidst the shadows of the night was his house, yes, but home was supposed to be where he found comfort, where he felt tranquil, where he was happy—yet ever since his arrival, he'd spent more time here, at Mai's house, than there.

Home had been beside his mother and uncle. Now, he had no home.

Zuko wiped his face with a guttural groan. He was far too sober to be pondering over these things. So, he reached over the table for the bottle of sake that stood behind the beverages—but just as he grabbed it, Mai snatched it out of his loose grip and hid it behind herself.

"What the—"

"Your drinking is getting out of control," she cut him off. "Someone needs to keep you in check."

Zuko's confusion morphed into a glower. He somehow managed to keep himself from yelling, but he couldn't stop himself from seething. "I have everything under control. Give it back."

"No," she said firmly. "Drinking this much can't be good for you."

"Mai, give me the damn bottle."

"You need to find better ways to cope with your problems, Zuko. Downing half a bottle of sake every day isn't the way."

Zuko felt his anger spike seemingly out of nowhere.

"Oh, it isn't the way?! You don't listen when I try to talk to you, and you turn me down when I try to have sex! What the fuck do you want me to do?!"

Mai seemed as impassive as always, but her narrowed eyes betrayed the annoyance that swam underneath her stoic features. "I do listen to you."

Zuko scoffed, shaking his head, then looked her in the eyes. "Telling me not to worry about my problems isn't exactly listening."

"Well, I'm sorry I can't be your therapist."

Zuko growled deep in his throat and jumped to his feet in frustration. "I don't want you to be my therapist! I just want you to be there for me when I need you!"

Mai glared at him from under her lashes, still sitting down. "I was there for you today. I didn't wait out there for Agni knows how long for nothing."

"Yeah, because I asked you to! That's the fucking problem!"

Mai stayed silent, crossing her arms and fixing her gaze straight ahead, while the Fire Prince paced back and forth in the room to calm himself, his hands fisted at his sides. The bottle of sake that had started this fight lied tucked between Mai and the back of the couch, entirely forgotten.

Then Zuko turned to her, breathing heavily through his nose. "Why would you even kiss me in the first place if you didn't care about me."

"Of course I care about you."

"How about you act like it, then! I mean… We've been dating for two months, Mai. Two fucking months, and we never once held hands!"

She sighed. "What do you want from me, Zuko? If you want a touchy-feely girlfriend, go date Ty Lee. I'm sure she'll be more than happy to babysit you all day."

Zuko stopped in his tracks. His fists clenched so tightly, his nails nearly tore into his skin. "What."

"Isn't that what you want? For someone to pat you on the back and call you a good boy for everything you do?" Mai shot up to her feet and got into his face, her anger finally coming forth. "Well, guess what, the world doesn't work that way. So grow up!"

Zuko felt his breath get stuck in his throat as if her words had literally knocked the wind out of him. Pain flared in his eyes for a split second, before they hardened into stone.

"You think everyone has a happy childhood, don't you? Your parents gave you everything you wanted in exchange for you to stay quiet. But me? Do you have any fucking idea the things I've been through?" He took a step toward her and glared down at her. "Fuck you."

Mai snorted derisively, a little spitefully even. "I wish you could fuck me. Maybe I'd actually enjoy it for once."

Smoke rose from Zuko's fists. He was past the point of no return now, too enraged to weigh his words or the consequences they might have.

"Maybe if you didn't lay there like a sack of potatoes all night, I could. But that's all you ever do—you just lay there and sigh and whine and bitch about everything all day. You have no passion, no heart, no soul, no nothing. You are nothing. You're just a big blah!"

Mai simmered before him, but didn't respond. Instead, she simply glared back at him, her eyes cold and sharp like her daggers—his livid with pure, unrestrained rage. But if she was trying to seem intimidating, she was failing at it—her breathing was getting heavier and it looked like she was on the verge of tears.

Exhaling heavily, Mai closed her eyes and turned away. "I do have a heart," she said at last, quiet. "But now I see you don't deserve a place in it." She wrapped her arms around herself. "Get out of my house. We're done."

"Good," Zuko spat. "I didn't wanna see your face again anyway."

Her eyes snapped to his, and she snarled through gritted teeth, "Get. Out."

Zuko huffed in her face, then whipped around and stormed out of the room, his jaw clenched tight and nostrils almost flaring. The heat emanating from his body was so severe, if someone were to put a block of ice anywhere near him, he'd melt it in seconds. As he stomped toward the doors, they opened for him, hauled open by the servants on the other side. So they'd been listening in, those snoops. No doubt they'd be telling everyone and their mothers about everything they'd heard here tonight—and by tomorrow, the whole of Caldera City will have heard about it.

Great. Just fucking great.

Zuko bolted down the stairs and out the main door of the house. He was about to race down another flight of stairs outside when the voice of one of his servants stopped him.

"Will Your Highness be taking the palanqui—"

Before he could finish his sentence, Zuko let out an infuriated roar and punched a ball of fire at the palanquin. The carriage instantly went up in flames and the palanquin bearers gathered around it jumped back at the sudden attack.

"There!" Zuko yelled at the servant trembling in terror. "Have fun with your palanquin!"

He continued on to sprint down the stairs and toward the palace across the desolate street. When he arrived at the gates of the palace, the palace guards rushed to open the gigantic doors for him, more erratically than usual. Similarly, all the maids, servants and guards unfortunate enough to come across him within the walls of the palace immediately stepped aside and kept their heads low and mouths shut to spare themselves from the wrath of their crown prince fuming through the hallways.

The moment he arrived at his bed chambers, Zuko slammed the door behind him and made for the alcohol cabinet near his bed. Grabbing the closest bottle to him, he pressed the mouth of the ceramic bottle against his lips and downed a hefty amount of sake at once, then grimaced when the alcohol singed his throat. But he didn't mind the discomfort. This was the exact reason he'd taken a liking to drinking in the first place—to be distracted by the horrible taste and sensations it left on his tongue and throat, and keep his mother, uncle, the Water Tribe girl and all of the problems he'd been having with Mai out of his mind. So what if it tasted foul? Alcohol was the only thing in this world that eased his nerves, and Zuko was forever grateful for it.

So, he wiped the excess sake dripping from his chin with the back of his hand, chugged another big gulp, then rammed the bottle on the surface of the cabinet so hard, the ceramic shattered on impact. The liquid inside splashed all over his hand and robes, and the broken pieces of the ceramic splattered everywhere.

It took everything in Zuko not to burn down the palace at that very second.

He buried his head in his hands and folded in half to yell all the curses in his lexicon at the top of his lungs. Then he straightened and began marching up and down the vacant spaces of his room, panting with fury. Wanting to run his fingers through his hair, as he did when he felt distressed, he reached up to the base of his hair that was pulled into a top-knot, yanked out his headpiece, then hurled the delicate ornament to the floor with full strength, and tangled his fingers in his shaggy hair.

Never had some ceramic bottle depicted his life so perfectly. Zuko had always ruined everything he'd touched—his mother's life, his uncle's life, the Water Tribe girl's life, his own life, and now this bottle. It'd been a mistake to assume his relationship with Mai would turn out any different. Father had been right all those times he'd called Zuko incompetent and a failure—a waste of air and space, a disgrace to the royal bloodline, a living mistake.

His armor began weighing down on him even more than it had during and after the war meeting, hampering at the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Suddenly, Zuko felt constricted, stuck in a cage without air, unable to breathe. He clawed at the collar of his armor when it wasn't even touching his throat. It was the armor itself that strangled him, the regalia of his nation he was supposed to be carrying with pride. He tried to work the straps of the armor tied below his armpits, struggling for air and trying to undo the knots with hassled jabs, but ended up just burning the straps in the end. He hoisted the metal piece above his head and flung it at his bed, then wobbled over to the bed himself, heaving.

He collapsed onto the mattress beside his armor, and he just lied there, staring up at the canopy above, while his breathing and heart rate returned to normal. Closing his eyes, he gulped and let out a deep breath—a breath laden with frustration and guilt and shame and countless other emotions he couldn't even name.

Regret filled the void in his heart left by receding anger. He replayed his fight with Mai behind his closed eyelids and winced at every word that had come out of his mouth. He'd been too harsh with her, calling her heartless and all, just because she hadn't let him drink.

He'd ruined everything again. He'd driven off one of the only people that had held him dear. Again.

Zuko lost track of time as he laid there mulling over everything that had gone wrong with Mai, round and round in his mind. Despite the late hour of the night, he was wide awake, and before he knew it, the warmth of the sun had started trickling in his veins. Shortly after, the shimmering light of the dawning sun poured into his room through the windows by his bed, and he was left without sleep once more.

-o-

In the days following his break up, it had become increasingly difficult to tell the Fire Prince apart from a specter with blood-shot eyes and a deathly pale face that roamed the halls of the palace. He wouldn't speak unless he absolutely had to, wouldn't look anyone in the eye, wouldn't eat more than a couple bites out of his food, and he never wouldn't have gotten out of his bed every morning if it weren't for the servants banging on his doors.

And though suffering in the loneliness he'd only felt once before after separating from his uncle in the Earth Kingdom didn't get easier with time, the first morning after the break up had been the hardest by far, if only for Azula and her theatrics. She'd wormed why Mai and Ty Lee had refused to show up for breakfast out of him—though he was sure she already knew why—then, when he'd begrudgingly confessed, she'd mocked him for it relentlessly. But after a few tries, she'd given up—nobody enjoyed teasing someone that was completely unresponsive to their jibes and simply continued to play with their food in silence rather than blowing up like they typically would.

Yet, remarkably, Zuko still hadn't deterred from his daily routine of having breakfast with his sister, enduring a full day of private lessons on politics, military strategy, history, economics, and law taught by cranky old men, then locking himself up in his bedchambers to sulk all night and drink himself to sleep—just to wake up to a horrific hangover and repeat everything all over again. He'd get his much-needed sleep during the couple of hours reserved for his daily firebending training and lunch.

Now, it was almost dusk, and he was walking back to his chambers from his last lesson of the day. The guards standing by the feet of the door to his bedroom bowed to him, but he bypassed them and locked the door behind himself without paying attention. Once he was in, he nearly shred his robes apart until he was left in his nightshirt and pants that he wore underneath his daily clothes. Normally, he would've taken off his shirt as well, but there were too many people in the palace that could barge into his room, even if he'd locked the door. Too many scars from childhood smeared his skin—he'd rather nobody saw them.

He picked up a bottle from the alcohol cabinet on his way to his bed, took a gulp from his drink, and he sat on the edge of the mattress—his back propped up against the bedpost, head tilted back, eyes closed, and one leg stretched over the bed, the other dangling freely from the side. By the time the sun had set and the moon was riding high in the sky, the bottle in his hand was half empty, and he could feel drunkenness setting in.

Zuko was still sitting in the same position on his bed, brooding over Mai and how much he must've broken her heart, when someone knocked on his door. He ignored it, hoping whoever it was would assume he was sleeping and go away. Exactly 30 seconds later, another knock came.

Heaving a sigh, he opened his eyes.

"What?" he asked, raising his voice to be heard from across the room.

From behind the door came the gruff voice of one of his guards, "Forgive me for the interruption, sir, but Princess Azula has sent Your Highness a gift."

Zuko's brows creased. "Why?"

"I do not know, sir."

Sighing once more, the prince squeezed the bridge of his nose. "Fine. Just… leave it by the door." He knew his guards had the keys to all of his chambers in case of an emergency.

As the door opened, he closed his eyes again. But then they shot open when he heard a pair of footsteps enter his room and the door close behind it, before the footsteps exited first. And he hadn't heard anything being placed on the floor either.

Zuko whipped his head to see a slender young woman standing before the door, her head bowed low and hands clasped before her. But he'd moved too abruptly for the alcohol in his bloodstream, and had to wait a moment or two for his dizziness to pass before he blurted out, "Who're you?"

Subtlety had never been his thing, and frankly, he didn't care. Azula had sent this woman—the same Azula who had, on multiple occasions, tried to murder him. Breaking up with her best friend could've very well been another reason for her to want him dead. Though, this woman didn't seem to be carrying any weapons on her—the scarlet robe she wore hung too tightly to her curves and left too little to the imagination to sport a hiding place for even the smallest of knives.

"I am Shila of House Yao, Your Highness," the woman said and curtsied. "I am a humble concubine in your esteemed harem."

Zuko looked her up and down. Of course he was aware he had a harem, but this was the first time he'd actually seen someone from it. He'd been too obsessed with politics to pay attention to girls when he'd been given his harem on his 13th birthday as palace tradition demanded—but throughout his banishment, he'd heard many rumors of the unearthly beauty of the girls in the Royal Harem, that they were some of the most breath-taking women in the world. For once, rumors turned out to be true.

Zuko quickly shook himself out of these thoughts. He'd just broken up with Mai not even a week ago—he couldn't be ogling at other women, especially not this particular one that could've been an assassin.

"What're you doing here?" he demanded, sitting up straight and putting more authority into his voice.

"Princess Azula has asked me to extend her condolences for your relationship with Lady Mai, Your Highness. Her Highness said she was deeply saddened to see you in so much despair."

Yeah, Zuko was sure his adoring little sister would be sad to see him like this.

"Give her my thanks," he said, eyeing the woman carefully—well, as carefully as he could while it felt like the world spun and his head spun with it, anyway.

There were two ways this could go—the woman could either leave like he'd ordered, or she could stay and prove her true intentions as Azula's not-so-invisible hand. At least she was all the way across his bedroom—Zuko would be able to see any attack coming from a mile away, and hopefully defend himself in his intoxicated state. For a moment, it seemed like she was going to take the latter route, as she defied his direct order and lingered in her place, her head still bowed respectively. But then, defying all palace protocol, she lifted her head and looked him right in the eyes, so unlike the submissive maiden she'd been a second ago and headstrong.

"Her Highness has also asked me to comfort you. Your Highness," she added as if it were an afterthought.

This, Zuko hadn't been expecting. Though he should've seen it coming—she was from his harem, after all. But this could be a ploy for her to get close enough to strangle him too.

He opened his mouth to dismiss her, but the words died on his tongue the moment her lean fingers came up to the sash wrapped around her waist and pulled one end of it. Her crimson robe slipped open, offering him a glimpse of the porcelain skin that laid underneath, then she slid the silky fabric from her shoulders and let it flutter to the floor in a pile of ruby-red at her feet, leaving her completely exposed before his eyes.

Zuko's mouth turned dry and he felt his head partially clear up at the sight.

His hormones instantly kicked in and his heart began thumping in his chest, the possibility that this woman might have been here to assassinate him thrown out the window. He drank in her nude figure for a long second, gaping like an idiot, before coming back to his senses. He cleared his throat and turned his head away to stare at his bedsheets.

"I have a girlfriend," he rasped out. His voice was hoarser than usual.

"Do you?"

"Excuse me?!" Zuko snapped his eyes to her, remembering one second too late that she was very much naked, and he immediately looked away again. He felt blood rush to his cheeks and down his neck, as well as to his other, more southern parts. And he was having no trouble with it either, despite all the issues he'd had with it during his time with Mai.

The woman's quiet footsteps sounded from the other side of his room as she stepped out of the pile of her robe around her ankles and began a leisurely walk toward him, taking her time. "I asked if you really have a girlfriend, or do you just like to think that you have one. What do you think you'd be doing right now if you did have a girlfriend, anyway? Let me answer that for you—fighting, as you always do."

Zuko ground his teeth, yet he still couldn't bring himself to look at her, too scared that he might do something he'd regret in the morning if he did.

"How dare you speak to me like this. I'm your prince!" Although his tone held the power his title demanded, the blush on his cheeks automatically undermined his authority, and the fact that he couldn't look at her didn't help.

"You are…" the woman said, almost at the stairs that led up to his bed now. "But I've heard many things about you, and none of them paint you as the type that would punish someone for misspeaking. You didn't punish Mai for breaking up with you. You won't hurt me either. It's not who you are."

Zuko's hands formed fists where he'd placed them on his sheets, bunching the material in his grip. She was right, he never would hurt her, but he didn't like it when people boasted about being letter-perfect—it reminded him too much of his sister.

"You know nothing about me," he grumbled. "And stay out of my private life. It's none of your business."

"Oh, but I'm afraid it is. Because, you see," she began walking up the stairs, "my father didn't gift me to your harem just so you can be with other women. You're mine, and I'm yours. That's our fate. Agni brought us here together to fulfill our destinies."

Despite his better judgment, Zuko glanced up at her. The moment his eyes left the spot on his crimson sheets they'd sought refuge in, they locked on the smooth, round breasts that bounced with each stair their owner climbed. He swallowed thickly. His eyes remained on her, taking her in in all her glory before he tore them away to look up at her face. Her sneer was shining through the curtains her chestnut hair had draped over her face, clearly aware of the rousing effect she had on him.

She trod over to him, now on the same plane as his bed—and with her every step, Zuko inched closer to her, pushing himself off of the bedpost and planted his feet on the ground to face her fully. His breath hitched when she finally reached him.

"Don't worry, I don't bite," she said, putting her hands on his shoulders and settling her knees on his either side to straddle him. "Unless you want me to, of course."

With her sitting right on top of his now-tended pants and her breasts brushing against his shirt, Zuko was a hair's breadth away from losing control, his fingers clawing at the sheets. One part of him that wanted to reach for her, to enact on his fantasies, but the other, reasoning part of his mind evoked images of Mai, reminded him of how much more he'd be breaking her heart if he got together with someone else after only a couple of days. But the logical side of his mind shut off when the woman—Shila, if he remembered correctly—inclined her head and planted an open-mouthed kiss on the base of his neck.

"Let her go, Zuko," she whispered into his skin. She licked up the column of his neck, and it was all Zuko could do to not melt into a puddle of pleasure right then and there. Then she played with the soft part of his unscarred ear with her tongue, and breathed in his ear, "Let yourself go."

Zuko tried to fight off his desires. He really did. But he was a teenage boy in the prime of his adolescence, and there was a beautiful, naked woman sitting on his lap, licking him, that wanted him to touch her. How could he refuse? In the blink of an eye, his hands flew up to grab her waist, then he spun her around so that he was on top of her, and slammed her onto the bed. Shila gasped at the sudden show of force, but didn't get to react any more before Zuko crashed his lips to hers, fervent and hungry.

He did just as she'd asked—he let his pent-up aggression and guilt tear through him, channeling it all into her, wave after wave until he'd collapsed onto the bed beside her in late hours of the night, spent. Whether he regretted this or not, he didn't know yet—he only knew that he'd slept just a little bit better than the previous night, and that was something he could always appreciate.

A/N

Welp, not only have we gone 8 chapters without Zutara, now I go and give Zuko another romantic interest. But don't worry, the Zutara parts are coming very soon :]

I'm aware that the pacing is really slow. I don't mean it to be, obviously, and I try to keep this set-up stuff short, but I always end up writing so much more than I originally intended. The thing is, the Zuko/Shila stuff is necessary for the story to move forward. Plus, the plot's gotta plot, ya know? I hope you'll forgive me once you see the full scope of how she and their 'romance' ties into the story, and I hope you'll keep reading :)

Re Mai, I tried my best not to antagonize her because, even though I don't particularly like her and Zuko as a couple, I do like her as a character, and I wanted to do her justice. And, yes, both she and Zuko were too harsh during their argument, but so are most people when they're angry.

The next update probably won't come until the second week of June cuz I have my finals coming up and I don't wanna fail them lol

Thank you for reading, and here's to hoping you still don't hate me. Cya!