A/N: Happy Ikarishipping day! Apparently! Go wild!

Chapter 56: Aftershock

Paul

The fire was burning its way up my legs; almost as painful as the flames filling my lungs while I tried to breathe through the heavy sheets of rain.

For many blissful years of ignorance, I'd safely assumed that I would never have a reason to run through a rainstorm. This past year, it had happened twice. If you'd asked me a year ago to take a wild guess as to why I'd be doing such an uncomfortable, tiring, idiotic thing such as this, my best guess probably would have been running from a murderer. If you'd given me a hundred guesses, I never would have come up with this scenario.

One text. No response. Just an address, and an abrupt Get here NOW highlighted in green. No context was given and then radio silence was all I received. I didn't keep count of the number of times Drew's voicemail had picked up. I was barley able to send back a response of omw before jumping on the first bus that stopped outside the school gates. The closest stop to the address was still a few blocks away from the corner Drew had specified. I just muttered, "Screw it," and bolted from the still moving bus before the back-door could even completely open.

And now here I was. Running through the rain. Like a crazy person.

The closer I got to the familiar address, the more I thought about how strange the whole situation seemed, even for Drew. The last I'd heard they were headed to some nightclub downtown, and now there was some emergency happening at the local fitness center? How on earth did those idiots possibly combine those two random locations into whatever this was about? If it was any comfort, that lessoned the chances that the emergency was one of life or death. But with nothing but Drew's text to go on, I couldn't take the chance that my worst fear wasn't coming to fruition tonight.

My idiot friends, the thought crossed my mind with chagrin and a warm undertone that hadn't been there before. It almost felt like relief, which would have been insane. What did having friends ever get me but multiple cases of running through the streets like a maniac trying to win a marathon? Clearly it got me something besides that if I was so hell-bent on making sure they were fine.

They'd better be fine. So I could kill them myself.

Under the alcove of the fitness center's roof stood a promising sight; Drew Hayden soaked to the bone. The fact that he was alone was worrying, but he appeared too nonchalant for that to have been cause for alarm. The splashing of my hurried steps caught his attention.

He visibly slumped with relief. "Finally! You're—"

"Shut. Up," I cut him off. "You'd better have a damn good reason for not answering your phone since you sent that Arceus-forsaken text."

Drew's eyes went wide. He pulled out his phone, reviewing the last message he'd sent and the torrent of missed calls undoubtedly staring him in the face. "Oh… shit, I didn't—"

I held up a hand. "You know what? Skip it. Why am I here?"

Drew motioned to the building like it was obvious. "We need to get in."

I didn't know if it was the exhaustion catching up with me, but my mind could not fit that statement together with the earlier implication of an emergency. It was like trying to shove a square peg into a round hole. The two things just didn't fit together.

"Wh— to the GYM!?" I yelled at him. "It's the middle of the night! And why is THAT an emergency!?"

Drew dragged one hand through his soaked bangs, growing increasingly more frustrated. "Look man, I promise I'll explain but only members can get in after hours and you're the only one here with access."

"Not good enough!" Drew was clearly not the only one growing more frustrated. "I seriously doubt it's a long enough story that you can't summarize."

"Is he here yet?"

I started at the new voice. Temporarily distracted, I turned around to the last person I expected to see come up behind me.

"Trouble—" the word broke in half and stuttered to a halt. "…some?"

Emerging from around the side of the building, Dawn dripped onto the pavement as the both of us did. But colour streaked every available inch of her skin and clothing, muddied together by the warm rain. Her hair, heavy with water and sticking to her neck was caked with multi-coloured chunks of paint.

And she was not the only one.

Shit.

"Get us inside and I'll explain everything."

For the first time in recorded history, I shut up and did what Drew told me.

The place was deserted. The now five of us stepped into the lobby still dripping all over the floor. The night-time attendant didn't even look up as the door clicked closed. Drew walked ahead of the group to the counter, fishing his wallet out of his pocket. The attendant finally looked up.

"What the—?" his gaze sailed right past Drew to the three girls repainting the floor with their excess runoff.

"How much?" Drew asked.

"Huh?" The young adult responded unintelligently. "Um, this is a gym man, it's not a—"

The paper Drew put down on the counter interrupted the guy. Four bills, all marked 50 each.

"Half now, half when we're done. That enough to buy an hour?"

Bewildered would be a kind way to describe his expression. The guy looked around helplessly, as though some camera crew was about to jump out and expose him for taking a bribe. Instead of finding an elaborate prank, his eyes found me and dawned in recognition .

"Hey," he motioned to the bank notes on the counter, "Is this legit or…?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'll vouch for 'em. Just let them in back and we'll be gone as soon as possible."

He looked between us, a long pause ticking away. If the three drenched teenage girls wasn't enough of a reason, he took another look down at the counter, weighing his options. He picked up the two bills Drew had slide across the desk.

"One hour, and if anyone asks; you were never here."

Drew sighed in relief. "Deal."

A knock on the glass door revealed one member of the missing bunch. Drew walked back over and opened the door from the inside to let Gary in. Hanging from his arms were several plastic bags filled to the brim.

"Okay, the nearest pharmacy had everything except clothes, but I figured clean was taking priority right now. Did you buy us some time?" Gary asked, out of breath.

"We've got an hour."

"Ladies," he handed each of them each a separate bag, "Shampoo, conditioner and soap for each of you."

"Wow. These are… surprisingly specific," May commented, inspecting the bottle she fished out of the bag.

"If there's one thing I know—" he ran a hand through his own wet spikes, "—it's hair care."

Gary lingered on Leaf's arm, but it looked like she barley registered that he was there. May and Dawn guided her towards the back where the women's locker room was as the young desk attendant disappeared to who-knows-where, taking his bribe as incentive for an unscheduled break.

With the tension of the disaster now loosened, I turned to the remaining two. They both looked as exhausted as I felt.

"Talk. Now."

And so came the unnecessarily long explanation of the night's events. They went back and forth while telling the story, Drew's version of events straight-forward while Gary interrupted with his own opinionated commentary. By the time it was over, the three of us were situated every which way on the abandoned front desk. Drew's feet kicked the air. Gary stretched his legs out from his spot on the floor. I stuck to leaning against the edge. Thirty minutes later and the sad ending to their tale turned the air in the room thicker than smoke.

I sighed. "Well, sounds like you all wasted time on a bad idea and it blew up in the worst possible way."

"And this is why you weren't invited, Mr. Sensitivity," Gary remarked sarcastically.

"Oh, I was invited, I was just the only one with the common sense not to go."

Drew hiked his food onto the counter to rest his chin on his knee. "Come on, you know they didn't have a choice. If Misty hadn't gone on her own, they would have found a way to force her to."

"Knowing them, they probably would have dragged her there themselves if need be," Gary added.

I did well to suppress my flinch. Neither of them seemed to notice.

I switched topics. "So, what's the plan? And why is your sorry bunch two drummers short?"

"We only planned as far as, get the girls the hell out of there as fast as possible and, oh yeah Paul's gym is nearby let's go get cleaned up. Ash went after Misty when she bolted," Gary listed before falling back into the pervasive silence.

It seemed like none of us knew what happened next. What should happen next. I scowled down at the desk, needing to focus on something. The glint of metal keys caught my eye.

"Wow, lucky for us we got the laziest night-shift guy," I said, picking up the keyring. I held them out to Drew.

"What am I supposed to do with these?" he questioned, taking the keyring despite his confusion.

I nodded to the office door behind the counter we were loitering on. "Towels are probably in back. We need to be out in an hour, remember?"

"Why am I suddenly the towel boy?" Drew complained.

"Dude, Paul got us in here and I just ransacked a pharmacy. You paid some dude 200 bucks to take a smoke break, pull your weight," Gary chided through the hand running down his face.

Although looking mildly insulted, Drew swallowed his pride and chose not to argue. "Fine."

Gary picked himself up off the ground, groaning as he stretched out his creaking bones. "I'm gonna try Ash again, see if he picks up this time." I didn't stop him as he rounded a corner in search of some privacy to make his call.

And then it was down to one. Though loathed to admit it, I was more relieved than I should have been. Becoming the victim of a cruel prank wasn't a great thing to happen by any means, but in terms of emergencies it paled in comparison to the threats already made.

I was still alone when Dawn came out first, clothes somehow even more sopping-wet than before. But her hair was clean and her gaze determined as she walked straight past me on a warpath towards the exit.

Having no choice, I cursed and stepped into her path. "Not so fast. Where do you think you're going?"

"The three of us need something to wear. I did my best to wash this out," she gestured down at herself, but I was a smart man and so I did not follow that motion any lower given her state of dress. "But we don't have all night. I know where I can get clothes."

I stared at her with obvious disbelief. "It's after midnight, nowhere is open."

"I know a place willing to make an exception," she challenged.

"How far?"

"A couple blocks from here."

I pulled out my phone. "I'll go, just give me directions."

"Paul—" Dawn raised her voice, no doubt preparing to launch into debate mode.

"Troublesome," I interrupted before taking a deep breath, praying that this would come out as tactful. "You can't go out there like that."

"Give me one good reason!" It certainly seemed as though she thought I didn't have one.

Knowing she wouldn't budge unless the reason was spelled out for her, I braced myself. "Dawn, believe me when I say I mean no offense, but if I let a sixteen year old girl walk out into the dredges of Hearthome City in the dead of night in translucent clothing, then every horrible thing you ever accused me of being during first semester would immediately become justified."

Dawn wasn't oblivious, she must have looked at herself before storming out here. She knew what she looked like right now. Her blush spread down her neck to the tops of her shoulders. Crossing her arms over herself in a poor attempt at cover, her voice shook along with her whole body.

"I can't stay here." The intensity of her gaze was palpable. "If I have to sit still for one more second, I feel like I'll implode."

"I get it. But you won't make it one block without something bad happening."

"Then problem-solve for me, please," she demanded, an edge of desperation in her tone. "Because I'm not staying behind!"

I knew she was serious. The girl was a powder keg of emotions on a good day, and now she had no outlet for them. I thought for a moment, then actually remembered where we were right now.

"Follow me."

Heading back to the same hallway as the locker rooms, I didn't get very far into the men's room before I heard the following footsteps dramatically halt.

"Paul!" Dawn gasped in bewilderment, temporarily forgetting her rage. "I can't go in there!"

"Relax Troublesome, I didn't mean it that literally," I called back. "Wait there a second."

Walking automatically to the worn metal numbers, I spun in my combination and unlocked the metal locker. Grabbing the sparse contents, I was thankful to be somewhat prepared with a solution to this conundrum.

Joining Dawn back in the hallway, her brow quirked in confusion as I reappeared. I held out the bundle of fabric I'd retrieved while she narrowed her eyes back at me.

"I normally keep a clean change of clothes here," I explained. "They'll be big, but it's better than the alternative."

She looked between me and the clothes in my outstretched hand several times, eyes growing big.

"A-Are you sure? I mean, that's—" she hugged her arms tighter around herself.

"Compromise, Troublesome," I stated the ultimatum plainly. "If you won't wait for me to come back, then you can come along in this."

"Why do you say that like you could actually keep me here? I could always just follow you after you left."

I scoffed. "Like the other's would let that fly."

She glared without retort.

"What's the big deal? It's not like you've never worn my clothes before."

Once the words were out of my mouth, though not untrue, I cursed myself for not realizing the connotation beforehand. If she'd been red before, now she was burgundy. But before I could speak again, try to backtrack, she had already snatched the clothes out of my hand and scurried back across the hall to the women's changing room.

"I'll be quick!" she called out, not looking back as she disappeared.

I massaged my forehead. This was already a long night, and I got the feeling it wasn't anywhere close to being over.

True to her word, Dawn was back in minutes. She'd pulled her half-dry hair into a high Ponyta-tail and she was practically swimming in excess fabric. She'd rolled up the sweatpants to her calves and cinched the drawstring as tight as she could up to her waist. The sleeves of the t-shirt almost came down to her elbows and it looked like most of the extra length she tried to tuck into the waistband. She seemed incredibly fascinated by the floor tiles and her skin had not returned to it's normal colour.

It was an amusing thought that this wasn't the first time I'd seen her like this. So casual and undone. Somehow the sight was still oddly endearing.

"Can we go now?" she muttered towards the ground.

Thankfully, it had stopped raining.

We made our way down glistening streets, the asphalt reflecting a spectrum of colors from the neon signs of bars and clubs still open. It would have been a more peculiar sight had Dawn been walking down the street in baggy sweats in broad daylight, but the darkness helped camouflage us both. Just a couple of nobodies, strolling the streets after hours. The regular crowd of drunks and night-shift workers didn't once glance our way.

A splash of water echoed along the mostly empty street. Two men stumbled to the corner we were coming up to, trying to hail a cab. One was leaning on the other heavily, the bitter smell of rum wafting along the block. The look they gave as we passed them by was quick, but the second man's gaze lingered on Dawn, though she didn't even look up from the sidewalk to notice it.

The moment I switched to Dawn's other side and blocked their view of her, their eyes fell away. Neither of them said anything. They didn't call out or make a move to follow us. They just went back to their search of a taxi.

But that didn't stop me from walking squarely between Dawn and every other person we passed for the rest of the way.

My concerns were perfectly rational, given all the current factors. The time of night, the usual brand of people who were primarily out at this hour and Dawn's age and general attire (even after changing into something dry) made the chances of a dangerous encounter statistically high. None of my reasons were actually factors in my decision-making though, the logic behind it just made me feel better.

I hadn't received any more polaroids. It had already been two weeks since then.

That wasn't comforting. Ryu Shinji didn't do empty threats, he always made good on his word. And of everyone I'd associated with he'd only so far singled out Dawn. So no, I wasn't about to let her just walk off into the middle of the night and (in theory) right into his hands. At the moment, I was far too paranoid to take any chances. Whenever he decided to step out of the shadows, I knew I'd be there one way or another when that time came. The only question was when.

Dawn put her phone back into her drawstring bag, finishing a phone call I hadn't been paying even the slightest attention to.

"It's just on the next street," she informed me, albeit hesitantly.

"I'm curious, what store is willing to make an exception for you?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Long story short, I know the owner. She's practically family. That was her on the line, she knows we'll be there."

We turned off the main drag and onto a narrow herringbone street. The buildings were much smaller, the windows all dark. The only light came from the street-lamps. Dawn came to a stop in front of a red brick shop with an orange and black sign.

"Aaand it's closed, just like everything else," I observed aloud.

"Just a sec," Dawn assured me, walking towards the large shop windows despite the darkness behind them.

The girl put one foot against the wide window frame and used it as a step, lifting herself off the ground and gripping the brick to keep her steady. I was at a loss as to what she could be hoping to accomplish as she pointed to several bricks, counting under her breath. Dawn eventually settled on one and gripped it between the edges, shimmying the brick back and forth until it popped out of the wall and into her hand. I watched, perturbed and stunned, as she took a key out of the hole in the wall and set the brick back in place.

She jumped off the window frame and spun back around to face me, a look of accomplishment on her face.

I blinked at her. "Uh… I didn't realize our friendship had reached the B&E stage, but sure, alright."

Dawn's jaw dropped. "We are NOT—!" she huffed and sputtered. "I have PERMISSION! It's not trespassing if I have permission! And it's not breaking and entering if I have a key!"

"Whatever you say. What's next, partner?" —in crime was implied, but while not spoken out loud Dawn glared none-the-less at the insinuation. I couldn't help but smirk at her reaction.

"Come on," Dawn huffed, unlocking the front door and stepping inside the darkened building.

With only the dim light from the street-lamps outside shining through the front window, the inside of the clothing store had a subtle eeriness to it. The faceless silhouettes of mannequins felt like they could spring to life out of my peripheral. Dawn pulled out her phone to shine the light from it's screen around the darkened space.

"I think casual-wear is near the cash. I hope they haven't changed the layout around since the last time I was here." Dawn moved further into the store.

I followed close behind. "You're gonna look for something specific? Why not just grab something by the front and go?"

"Just because I know the store owner doesn't mean I can take whatever I want. This stuff is designer! Do you have any idea how much some of this stuff costs?"

"I'm guessing somewhere between 'too much' and 'better be made of gold'."

She laughed through the dark, somewhere between tired and amused. "You're not wrong."

"And the owner of an insanely overpriced clothing store just let you walk in here in the middle of the night because…?"

"Lila is like my godmother. But just because she was okay with me grabbing some clothes for an emergency," Dawn stressed. "Isn't an excuse to be careless. I already feel bad enough about asking for something this crazy, the least I can do is make the clothes I'm procuring on the affordable side so it's not as big a loss for her."

I turned towards the windows, scanning the empty street for good measure. "Just make it quick. Your fairy-godmother might be okay with this, but I'm pretty sure anyone spotting us from the street wouldn't buy that story so easily."

Coming to a stop, Dawn began searching between the displays. "Can you take out your phone? I could use a little more light."

I turned on the flashlight setting and directed the stronger beam to where Dawn was pointing.

"Okay, this should be fine." Dawn pocketed her phone and grabbed an assortment of garments from the section she'd been looking for. But just as she finished gathering up the pile of garments, her whole body stiffened. "Dammit, security tags."

"So what now?" I shone the light at her, her expression akin to gears turning.

"Well, unless we want to turn that B&E charge into a reality, I'll need to get these off. Or else we won't make it past the front door without the alarm going off."

Dawn looked around, the shadows more prominent on her face when her brow scrunched in worry. "There should be a device to remove them behind the register. Hold the light steady?"

As soon as the desk was sufficiently lit by my device, Dawn didn't hesitate the hop over it with relative grace. Until now, I wouldn't have guessed she had it in her.

"For someone so hesitant to commit robbery, you sure have a knack for this."

"Ha ha, you're hilarious," Dawn drawled with heavy sarcasm as she ducked down out of sight. "And awfully chatty tonight."

"If you would prefer silence, just say the word."

"No." Standing up from behind the counter looked like it took all her strength; like the exhaustion of the evening was finally hitting her. "Definitely not."

The device in her hand was hard to make out. It was bulky and plastic, and she seemed pretty lost herself on how to use it.

"Could you bring the light closer?" she requested.

I approached instead of responding. Leaning on the opposite side of the till, I held the light while she turned the device over in her hands, trying to understand it.

"Hey," she broke the silence, keeping her eyes trained on her task. "You were right."

"Usually am," I replied, no hesitance.

The air hissed between her teeth, a quiet laugh she tried to smother. "Careful. Your friend's arrogance might be rubbing off you."

"Bold of you to assume I wasn't this arrogant long before I met any of you."

"Why does that not surprise me?"

"Because you were always looking for reasons to criticize me, and that was one of your only accusations that held any water," I answered her honestly.

Watching her arrange the pile of clothing, it seemed weird to think of this moment as a return to normalcy. Standing in the middle of an empty store in the middle of the night while we hunted down spare clothes for our friend group wasn't a story one would describe as typical. Though maybe for our mis-matched group of friends, it could be. No, it was more so the banter that fell into a familiar, comforting pace.

"Are you going to let me elaborate?"

"Continue," I relented.

Dawn huffed, more so exasperated than actually annoyed. "You were right about coming along. I'm actually really glad you're here."

I couldn't help but be taken aback. Between the darkness and her focus directed squarely on the counter between us, she probably didn't notice.

"Holding a flashlight and making sure you don't get assaulted. Truly my most valuable skills," I tried to play it off.

"It's not that," Dawn insisted. She was starting to figure the device out, slotting the plastic tag into the contraption, albeit a little clumsily. "Though you are very talented at both flashlight-holding and being a bodyguard."

"Thanks," the sarcasm wasn't genuine. It made her laugh all the same.

"Honestly though. If you weren't here right now, I probably would have curled into a ball and started crying by this point," she admitted.

I cleared my throat, somewhat awkwardly. "Well, sorry you had to miss out on that."

"Eh. There will plenty of time for that later."

With that confession, I noticed her hands were shaking. She'd barley managed to get one tag off. I reached out and wrapped my hand around hers, the one holding the device, to stop the trembling.

"Take over flashlight duty."

"You don't have to—"

"I got this. Just hold the light."

It took Dawn conscious effort to slow her breathing, but eventually the vibrating light slowed to a steady hold. I made quick work of the remaining security tags after having seen her manage the first one.

"Done," I announced, the last plastic tag unhooked from the final garment. "Our heist is officially a success."

Dawn groaned, defeated. "I give up. That's it! I'm done."

Trading me the pile of newly untagged clothes for my phone, she folded them haphazardly.

"…and thanks," she eventually added.

"You know," I leaned onto the counter so we were at eye-level. "If you'd just said you wanted to come all the way here so you could bawl your eyes out in private, I could have just like, waited outside for you."

Dawn hadn't had reason to look at me while focused on removing the security tags, but now she was free to give me the driest of looks. "I was not going to ask you to stand on a street corner while I had a mental breakdown."

I shrugged. "Well regardless, I was offering and you could have. Since you don't feel like you can do that with me here."

Leaning onto her elbows too, she narrowed her eyes at me. "You're awfully talkative tonight. It's very unlike you."

"You keep pointing it out."

"No, I'm not saying it's bad!" Dawn insisted, waving her hands back and forth in a motion of denial. "I just… maybe you don't realize it but… it's helping. I don't feel like I need to cry as long as we're talking like this. Talking to you makes me feel better."

I nodded, appreciating the honesty despite my inexperience with such a compliment. "Well, I suck at the whole comforting thing so…"

"Really? I think you're doing okay."

The light from my phone reflected in her eyes, turning them glossy. She didn't look like she was about to breakdown into tears, but she was so adamant that she'd be bawling by now if it weren't for my presence. She admitted it so easily too. Had Dawn always been so unashamed at whatever she was feeling? I'd seen her wear more emotions on her sleeve than anyone else I knew. Maybe that explained why she was so calm about the idea of breaking down. Like it wasn't a big deal, just another item on her to-do list.

It was one of the biggest things that set us apart.

I had spent most of my life thinking emotions were a waste of time. They didn't contribute to the makings of smart decisions, just reckless impulses. And what was there to respect about irrational people who caved to baser instincts instead of using common sense? It was all too easy to write them off for that alone. That could explain why I was so incredibly inept at handling emotions in general, be they someone else's or my own. I just didn't know what to do with them.

A couple weeks ago my trauma had hit me like a truck when that car had barley grazed Dawn by accident. She'd been the one to barley escape a potentially fatal encounter, but she'd handled that situation better than I ever could have.

I'd never been dissatisfied with the way I viewed the world. How I made decisions or lived my life. But it hadn't been too long ago that I'd completely disrespected a skill like the one Dawn clearly had over me. Just to freely feel whatever she was feeling. And somehow afterwards, to not fall apart over it.

Dawn grabbed a reusable canvas bag with the store's logo emblazoned on it from behind the counter and started packing up the clothes.

"Is that all you're taking?" I asked. "You didn't grab anything for yourself."

Holding her arms out wide, she spun on her heel. "I'm already wearing chique de Shinji. And I'd rather not take any more than I have to. Figured you wouldn't mind."

I waved it off. "By all means."

Dawn smiled her thanks as she hopped back over the counter, bag in tow. "So, I gotta ask. Earlier, you said 'the B & E stage' of friendship," Dawn air-quoted my own words back at me. "Does that mean you've done this before?"

We both had out phones out now, lighting up the space between us and casting frightening shadows on both our faces.

"Committed breaking and entering, or had a friend?"

It was Dawn's turn to shrug. "Both, I guess."

"I never really did friends—" I paused, rolling my eyes in the darkness. "Well, before anyway."

I didn't even have to shine the flashlight at her to know she was beaming.

"As for the other," I turned and began making my way back to the front of the store. "It only really counts as breaking and entering if you get caught."

"Wait, so you HAVE!?" Dawn's voice rose in pitch.

I looked at her over my shoulder. "What are you, a cop?"

She looked predictably horrified. "PAUL!"

I chuckled. "Relax. I mean, one time at my old job I had to go back for something I forgot after hours so I picked the lock, but that's as close as I've ever gotten."

Dawn physically deflated. "Jeez! Don't tease me like that! For all I knew, you could have actually had a checkered past!"

I crossed my arms as she fished out the store key from her pocket. "Sorry to ruin your fantasies of my previous life as a thug."

Dawn pointed her phone light directly at me, blinding me in the process. It felt like we were in some cop drama and she was the one interrogating me.

"So the tough guy act is all it is, huh? An act. Behind all that tall, dark and brooding is a straight-laced member of society."

"Well, I don't know about an act. But a criminal I am not. Never was, never will be," I assured her.

"How do you know how to pick locks then?"

My lips pressed tightly together. Shit, how did I explain that one away? On one hand, if I brushed her off I was sure she would drop it. Dawn had come a long way from pushing past personal boundaries just to get what she wanted. It was the logical move, the one that would maintain the safe distance between the present and my stubbornly surviving past.

But if I was being honest with myself (and I always was), I knew that wasn't fair. Nothing about any of this was fair, really. But maybe there was room for some leeway. As much as I wanted to hide it indefinitely, something told me she'd find out eventually whether I wanted to or not. They all would. Wouldn't it be better if they at least saw it coming?

"Don't freak out."

Dawn lowered her light and blinked in surprise. "Huh?"

"I was never a criminal," I repeated. "But I knew someone who was."

"Wait, seriously?" she blanched, unsure whether or not I was serious. "No joke, right?"

"No joke. I guess that's why I was never tempted. I saw first-hand how that life tears you apart."

"Were they—" Dawn reached her free arm across her body to tug at the strap of her bag. "—your friend?"

"Nope. I told you, I didn't do friends before you." I left the sentence there. I could have specified further, referring to everyone in our strange little group. But in the moment, it seemed irrelevant.

"Sorry," Dawn looked away, blue bangs covering her eyes. "That must have been hard, knowing someone like that."

It still is.

I proceeded out the door, calling behind me, "Let's go."

"R-right."

Back on the sidewalk, under the empty black sky and the city still smelling of rain, Dawn locked the door and then promptly slipped the key back into it's hiding place.

"Hey," Dawn spoke up, jumping down from the window edge. "Before we head back, and everything else has to take priority again. I just want to say… I'm glad you're here with us now."

And not where you were. Not with some criminal in your life. The words remained unsaid, but I still heard them.

"You might not feel that way by the time the next concert rolls around," I switched topics, wanting nothing more than to leave this one behind.

"Nope," Dawn spun around and started walking backwards up the street. "Having a tough rival just makes me want to work that much harder! So I'm still glad! And that's why you guys have to give it your best too!"

I followed after her. "Right."

Just let it stay like this. Let some school competition be the biggest thing she has to worry about. Let this all last as long as it can.

And if it can't, I prayed, let it just be me who gets hurt this time.

Misty

The next day

As my mind swam through a sea of sleep, the only thing I knew for certain was that wherever I was, it was warm.

I wished more than anything that I never had to wake up. All I wanted was to keep sinking into the comfortable bliss of unconsciousness and never come up again. My hand curled tighter around its heat source, like a tiny sun in the palm of my hand, as though clinging to it would keep me there in that peaceful space between sleeping and waking a little longer. Feeble as it was, my fingers gripped tightly to the warm, rough texture of…

Skin?

The alarmed lurch of my heart forced my eyes open. Although in my half-awake state of mind, from the looks of things I seemed to be in some sort of hurricane-disaster zone. Discarded clothing covered every single piece of furniture in the room, except thankfully the bed I was currently using. The walls were a familiar pale blue I knew from the boy's dorms on the lower floors. Well, of all the places I could have woken up after the hellish night before, there were certainly worse options.

When movement stirred against my abdomen, my stomach somersaulted in shock. I lifted up the baby-blue quilt and spied a fuzzy yellow creature curled in as close as he could get to my midriff. Or maybe it was more accurate to say I was curled around him with how snuggly he fit into place.

"Pikachu…" Guilt gnawed at my insides. He was always so good at picking up on other people's feelings. I hated to think that he'd had to suffer through mine.

His presence definitively solved the mystery of where I found myself. But if he was here and I was taking up the bed, then where had Pikachu's trainer gone? I supposed he could have camped out on the couch like when he got locked in my dorm during the thunderstorm, but—

I'd yet to let go of the warmth in my hand. Even with the brain-fog of just waking up, my sleep-addled self was still capable of following the evidence to its natural conclusion. A rush of denial and a harsh contrast of joy had to be forcefully smothered down as I plucked up my courage and looked over the edge of the bed.

Ash still slept exactly like he used to when we were kids. Mouth half-open, unruly hair, soft snoring, and limbs all stretched out in every direction. Nothing had changed about his sleeping habits, with the exception of one difference. The hand he had currently entwined with mine was folded in, pressed against his chest like he was anchoring me. I could feel his heart through the backs of my fingers; a beat I could follow along to forever.

The night before rose back up along with a dry lump in my throat, and all over again I wished I'd never woken up. I needed to go. Arceus, if it wasn't bad enough I'd have to face the fallout the moment I stepped back into my dorm room, how could I ever face Ash again after what had happened?

Some emotions I could handle just fine. Happiness? Easy. Stress? No problem. Anger? Anytime, anywhere. But I didn't do sad. It was the most volatile and unpredictable feeling that I couldn't at any cost let out. It was a weakness. Vulnerability was blood in the damn water. I had to keep it locked up lest it get exploited and my life made worse.

And I'd shown it to my best friend. I couldn't get away fast enough, and so my heart had cracked open on the pavement and spilled every horrible, pathetic failing at his feet. Remembering it made me want nothing more than to run away and hide.

Which is precisely what I planned to do as I went to pull my hand back, only to find that it wouldn't come free. I peered back down over the edge of the mattress with the intent to try again, and found Ash staring back up at me, very much awake.

And now I was trapped all over again.

Maybe I could chalk it up to all the years of friendship between us. But his gaze said everything I'd be mortified to hear out loud. Ash knew it too because he didn't say a word. He just stared up at me with a mix of, 'You're not going anywhere,' and 'I'd ask if you're okay, but I already know you're not'.

My face dropped back down to his pillow so I didn't have to look at him anymore. He'd already seen me break down crying, I didn't want him to witness my flush of shame too.

"Morning," he called from the floor, squeezing my hand in assurance. I noticed he didn't bother with the 'good', as we both knew it was anything but.

"It sure is," I replied, my voice tired in more ways than one.

"How you feeling?"

I grumbled back, "Like I wanna sleep some more and pretend last night was a horrible nightmare."

"You never sleep in," he pointed out.

"Maybe I'm changing my ways. My early-bird days are over in favor of wasting away hiding from the sun."

"Well, at least you won't get to judge me anymore," Ash chuckled humorlessly. "Is that really what you want to do though?"

I let several seconds of silence tick by, deliberating. "No. I just need a few more minutes of feeling sorry for myself."

"Fair enough."

His thumb moved in circles against the back of my hand. I let myself be soothed by the motion, my pride too damaged to even attempt a show of strength. I could at least admit to myself that the only thing I wanted right now was to be comforted.

"Do they hate me?" I couldn't stop myself from asking.

"Huh?" Ash's thumb stilled at the sudden question. "Who?"

"The girls," I clarified, not giving him a hard time about the obvious answer. It was morning and he had just woken up. I could excuse the obliviousness just this once.

"Why would you think they would?" Ash questioned back, a little alarm present in his voice.

"I wouldn't blame them," I confessed, though it felt like my ribs were breaking with every word. "They were only there because of me, and then I left them as soon as things went south."

Arceus, that sounded so much worse out loud.

"No, of course they don't hate you," Ash answered with finality. "Last night wasn't your fault."

I scoffed, but Ash didn't pause to entertain any sort of argument.

"You were put on the spot! And lured into a trap you had no way of knowing about! The girls understand that and the only ones they blame are your sisters."

"Then why do I still feel so guilty?" I asked, not really wanting an answer.

"Mist." Ash sat up, no longer allowing me the cover to avoid his gaze.

I shut my eyes and curled further inward. Damn it, this couldn't be happening again, but—

Sixteen years of hurt hadn't prepared me for something like this. I couldn't blame my sisters without blaming myself, because no matter how I spun it I knew them too well. I saw the trap they had set coming from a mile away and walked right into it, leading my unaware friends to utter humiliation because my pride wouldn't allow for a surrender. I was responsible for this just as much as they were, and nothing would convince me otherwise.

I'd never felt so raw.

"I hate them." The voice sounded too small in my ears to possibly be mine, but it couldn't be anyone else's. I'd never said it out loud before. It always went without saying.

The grip on my hand tightened.

"I hate them," the words came again, accompanied by several tears traitorously slipping out and the unbearable sting of shame. "How screwed up is that?"

"Misty…"

I sat up and turned away, but he wouldn't let me go too far. With only the heel of one hand pressed against my eye, I held myself together as best I could.

"I just—" the breath I took was shaky at best, hysterical at worst, "I'm so tired of pretending this is normal. None of this is normal! The only thing Dawn, May and Leaf ever did was stand up for me! And that's the only reason my sisters set this up. They didn't deserve that! They're being punished just for being my friends! And now… I'm gonna lose them. I'm gonna lose everything."

"Okay. Few minutes is up."

Ash pulled sharply on the hand he still held captive and forced me to look at him.

"Listen to me. You haven't lost anything. I know that's not gonna make you feel better right now, but it's true. It doesn't matter what they do, they don't get to decide whether you win or lose at the Platinum concert. You can't let them sike you out now!"

He looked back at me with such blind certainty. I wanted so badly to believe his pep talk was all I needed to make my comeback. Why couldn't the world be as simple as he made it sound?

Unable to run or hide from him, I closed my eyes against him instead. The most unfair consequence of all was that along with everything else, I was going to lose him too.

Ash…" I voiced, the admission trembling out of my throat. "I don't know what I'm going to do without you."

His groan was loud and it lasted longer than I'd thought possible, sounding absolutely frustrated. It was so strong, even Pikachu whined from his dozing, moving to wake up just to see what all the racket was about. His motivational speech was good, don't get me wrong. But it seemed Ash was still focused on the defeatism I couldn't shake.

I braved a look at him. His head was hung low towards the bed before it whipped up again to face me again.

"Ten seconds," Ash locked his determined gaze on mine.

"Wh… What?" I just tilted my head in confusion.

The look on his face was stubborn, like nothing in the world could keep him from whatever it was he seemed so determined to do. "I'm about to do something and it might be a very bad idea. So if you wanna slap me afterwards, I'll give you ten seconds. Fair warning."

Before I could question what that meant, or even get a word in edgewise, he surged forward. And then I couldn't speak even if I wanted to.

With eyes wide open, the face of my best friend blurred in front of me until he became unrecognizable. Something hard knocked against my teeth, sending a painful reverberation through my upper jaw, but otherwise his mouth was still where it slat against mine, his dry, chapped lips unmoving. His breath tasted stale, and he still smelled like the bitter stink of the nightclub mixed with alleyway grit and last night's rainwater. It was a rushed, impulsive mess and it was so completely, utterly on brand for Ash Ketchum that it actually made me smile. It was so close to what I could picture as reality, it almost made me believe it was real.

When he finally pulled back, maybe seconds later, maybe hours— time was irrelevant anyway, I kept staring blankly ahead, not-yet registering that the moment had ended. Ten seconds must have ticked by in the time I sat there staring at him.

"Huh," I eventually said.

Ash practically choked on his shock. "THAT'S your response!?"

"It's just… I was really sure I was awake," I kept talking, babbling now to what I was pretty sure was a dream. "I guess I was more tired than I thought."

"Is it really that hard to believe?" Ash asked with clear hesitance, as though he didn't really want the answer to that question.

"That you would kiss me, on your own, and actually return the stupid crush on you I've been burying since I was twelve?" I crocked one eyebrow at the fantasy version of my best friend. "Yeah, I gave up on that for my own sanity a few years ago. I mean, it's not like this is the first time I've had this dream since then, it is a pretty nice fantasy to revisit once in a while."

"Re…really?" Dream-Ash actually sounded hopeful.

"Well yeah, it's a nice dream," I reminisced, more to myself than anything. "And I guess it's not surprising after what I put Ash through last night. He's too good for his own good. Just when I think I've got everything nice and platonic he does stuff like this, and I'm right back here."

"Misty—"

"I mean, it's so cliche, right?" I asked myself, not looking to have Ash himself, albeit an imaginary one, agree with me on how pathetic it was. "Childhood friends falling in love. I guess it worked out for Leaf and Gary but, that stuff is once in a generation. I know better than to get my hopes up."

"Why?"

I looked back at him at last, not expecting him to contribute to the conversation. He looked genuinely curious, and a little….sad? No, that wasn't quite right.

"I never get anything I want," I replied. He was just a part of my cognition, he should know this already. "I don't get a normal, loving family. I don't get to follow my dream. I don't get to tell you I've loved you almost as long as I've known you. But at least I get to be your best friend."

I reached up, fingertips ghosting against his cheek. "And at least I get to dream."

He looked like he wanted to say something more, and he almost got the words out before I swallowed them.

I didn't want to listen. I just wanted this dream to last a little longer, and I wanted more than the perfectly inexperienced kiss that almost tasted real. I wanted to fumble, and learn and pretend that this could happen when I woke up for the second time. I wanted to imagine that I could tell him exactly what last night had meant to me, curled up in his arms in the rain, and that he could date a dozen girls in a dozen regions or never date even one person for the rest of his life and a piece of my heart would always belong to him. I would tell him he could have my whole heart if he asked me for it.

"Mist," he breathed as he broke away. I chased after him again and again but he kept breaking off, trying to say something I wasn't interested in hearing.

The hand holding mine this whole time finally let go. The next moment, it was pinching the skin of my forearm.

"Ow!" I yelped and finally pulled back. "What was that for!?"

"Mist!" he laughed, boyish excitement in the face of my offended temper. "I'm not a dream! And I'd really like you to know that before we continue, if you don't mind."

"What are you—?" I stopped, the sore spot still subsiding. Sharp pain was the classic way to wake yourself up when you realized you were dreaming but we were still…

No. Wait. That's not— slow down. That couldn't be. I'd convinced myself of the impossibility a long time ago, I'd fully accepted that. But now, he couldn't just… could he? This couldn't be. Could it?

But he was smiling. And he had that smug 'I just beat you' look in his eye. And it was getting progressively harder to come up with ways that this could still all be happening in my head.

How had I gone from being so miserable to this in five minutes, tops? Was it even possible for moods to skyrocket that fast?

I hid my face in my hands instinctively. The heat I could already feel against my fingers just made me flush even harder.

"You," my voice was muffled. "You just ki-k-k-k-ki-kiss-KISSED… me."

"Yup," he grinned that maddening, victorious grin. "On purpose."

"And this is real?"

"Yes."

"I'm awake?"

"Yes."

"Am I hallucinating?"

"Ye— wait," he fumbled for a moment. "No."

So… Ash had kissed me. Ash kissed me, and then I admitted in my dream-state delirium that I'd been in love with him for years. And then I kissed him. And he'd reciprocated. And this was real?

"Why?" I couldn't help but ask.

His smile was a little softer now, a little more breakable. "Because you're my best friend too. And I don't ever want us to stop being best friends. And the thought of you dating anyone else made me feel like I was going crazy until I thought, hey, if dating is pretty much just being in love with your best friend then… I want that."

My voice was barely a whisper. "You do?"

"Yeah," he said it so simply. "I want to be with you. The same way Drew is with May and Leaf is with Gary. I want that with you. I don't think there's anyone else I could ever want that with. Just you."

He wanted… me?

If not for the pain in my arm and the furious rhythm in my chest, I would still be convinced this wasn't real. It was too good to be true, a fantasy beyond any reasonable probability. I'd woken up wondering how much worse things could get when they were already this bad.

If someone had told me they were about to get better, I wouldn't have believed them.

Ash picked up Pikachu from where he was still curled up and plunked him in my lap. He took one of my hands and placed it on top of the electrically charged fur, warm and tingling against my skin. This felt real. His hand felt real. When he smiled at me, the jerk of my heart against my ribcage felt real too.

"You have plenty of people who care about you right here. You have the girls, and me, and all the others too. No one's given up on you. So don't you dare give up on yourself."

Something about the way he said it, it felt like being struck by lightning. He was right of course, the moment the words were out of his mouth I knew it was true. But he probably didn't even realize what revelation he'd caused.

This was exactly what they wanted. My sisters wanted me to give up. And for a moment, I'd actually considered it.

No. This wasn't over, I couldn't let it be. No more pity party. I didn't make it this far for my own dream and finally get a chance with the boy I loved to throw in the towel now. I had to get back up and get back to work.

This was nothing new, I realized. The terrible night and the impossible morning, the bad and the good. It was the same cycle of hardship that led me to him, and the space he gave me to pick myself back up and face the hardship all over again. This was normal for us. That's how I knew it had to be real.

Ash Ketchum, what would I do without you? If I have it my way, I'll never find out.

I kissed him again, quick and light, for barley a second.

"What was that for?" Ash laughed, his smile in my hands.

I matched his expression back. "Courage."

I plopped Pikachu onto his shoulder and threw off the blanket. No more time to lose, it was time to really get serious. Striding out of Ash's bedroom and into the living space, I came to a halt just outside his door and stared into the living room, Ash right behind me. I certainly hadn't expected to find a flattened head of usually-spiky hair asleep on the couch.

"Dude," Ash moved around me and nudged Gary's foot, propped up on the armrest of the couch.

Before Gary could fully come to, a loud ruckus erupted from the other dorm room where Gary should have been sleeping.

"MISTY!" Leaf burst out of Gary's room and that certainly woke him up. The three of us whipped around to look at her, messy hair pulled back and wearing clothes I'd never seen before. Was that an embroidered track suit? Who embroidered workout clothes?

"Yes?" I asked hesitantly.

Leaf was over to us in an instant. "How are you? What do you need?"

"Whoa, I think I should be the one asking you that," patting her shoulder, trying to calm her down. Out of all of us, I was most worried about how Leaf would have reacted to last night's fiasco. But she waved off my concern like a pesky bug-type.

"I'm fine, Gary was there," she gestured to him. He gave a lazy wave in response. "The worst of it's over."

"I wish I could agree," I crossed my arms. At the very least, the Sensational Sisters wouldn't have the time to pull any more stunts like this one. Every moment from here on out would be concert prep. Whatever they tried to bait me with, I wouldn't get distracted anymore. I promised myself.

"What do you wanna do now?" Leaf asked, pulling me back to the moment.

I returned her determined look with one of my own. "I want to get back to work. There's nothing else we can do but give the best damn performance ever."

She looked relieved to hear me say that. "You got it."

Coming to our side, Ash stretched his arms over and behind his head. "I wish there was something we could do to help."

"That's a little hard when we're competing against them," Gary yawned his reply.

"You guys have done enough." Planting my hands on my hips, I nodded my thanks at both of them. "If we don't come in first, it won't be your fault or anything. It's all on us."

It was all or nothing now. Revitalized and with renewed motivation, I had to push past any lingering regret. I couldn't give up anymore. I wouldn't.

"Well…" Gary regained our attention, propping himself up on his elbows and looking pointedly at the three of us. "Actually, I can think of one thing."

Dawn

I had to get a grip.

I repeated those words like a mantra over and over in my head, my hands digging through the mountain of fabric options laid out before me. However, every time I got elbow deep into the same wrong choices my focus would start to drift into a fog. All the colours and patterns blended together, none of them the one I was looking for because I wasn't really looking anymore. My hands were moving on autopilot while my mind floated away.

It's not like you've never worn my clothes before.

What's next, partner?

I told you, I didn't do friends before you.

I wanted to take the deepest breath I'd ever taken in my life, face-plant into the heap of material before me, and scream my lungs out. But I was in public, so that was an impulse I would have to repress.

I drew my hands back and groaned in frustration, abandoning the fruitless search. Walking away from the table, I weaved through the rest of the store haphazardly, not paying attention to where I was going. Dress-makers mannequins and wall-displays showcasing every colour of the rainbow passed me by as I wandered around, aimless. I couldn't leave without picking something, and the more time I wasted here the less I would have to actually start my project when I finally made it back the dorms, but at this rate I was gonna be here until closing unless I could get my head on straight.

This was too important to mess up, and yet I was so wound up I couldn't even focus enough to absorb all the options in order to make up my mind. Misty's concert outfit had been effectively ruined by the Paint-Festival war-crime the other night, and there wasn't much time left until the concert that would decide our fate to add deciding on a replacement outfit to the list of priorities. The other girls were already doing everything in their power to perfect the performance. We'd decided on the song, thankfully the one I'd already memorized, so the debut of my guitar skills was one trick we had up our sleeves. But presentation was just as important, so that was left up to me as my personal specialty.

I was already planning to make all of our outfits for the Showcase anyway. Misty's new outfit would just have to be broken out a little early. The design had long since been finished, all I had to do was pick the fabric and put it all together. Which as it turned out was easier said than done.

That boy. That stubborn, no-nonsense, silver-tongued, endlessly dedicated boy was going to kill me. How could he say stuff like that with such a straight face, but still so genuinely!? How did he keep finding his way into my thoughts when I had important things to do today!? It wasn't fair. It wasn't my fault! I was determined to spend the whole day being productive and he was ruining it before I even got the chance to really get going. And he wasn't even physically here!

Arceus, if this really was love I wanted a refund.

And that, right there, was the Donphan in the room; the one train of thought that kept circling around back to the station in my head. Well, when I wasn't trying to hold everything together for my friend's ongoing crisis that is.

It was almost easy to talk myself out of it when I was alone. The first time I'd even thought the word 'love' was following a very emotionally taxing evening. I could easily write it off as the result of a whirlwind of cleared-up communication and genuine connections being made. It didn't have to mean anything more. Teenagers were dramatic all the time, right? They got crushes, became infatuated and got caught up in the excitement before it ran its course and it ended. That's how it was with Kenny (albeit a lot more awkward).

I was only sixteen. I was too young to be in love. Right?

But every ounce of logic I possessed, every rational voice that led me to that explanation, abandoned me whenever Paul walked into the room. It didn't matter if we were talking or teasing or even if we didn't speak to each other at all. No other word really compared to describe the feeling that always welled up in my chest. His dedicated focus, his dry sense of humor… even the distance he put himself at with everyone else had somehow become endearing too. His independence was something I admired and related to, but it also drew me in. Made me wonder who's sake it was really for. From the few times Paul actually let me get a little close, I couldn't help but think it wasn't a habit solely for himself.

Every moment of quiet reprieve felt like a precious treasure. Every word of praise a small victory. Every glimpse of vulnerability, a touching show of trust.

He made me so happy and he had no idea he was even doing it.

I was unceremoniously reminded of first semester, at the beginning of the year. Once again, Paul was at the crux of my performance dilemma, however unintentionally. Somehow, I'd wound up in the exact same place only for very different reasons.

Oh the irony.

I gripped my phone in one hand and checked the time. Half an hour lost and I had almost finished an entire lap around the fabric store. As I was putting the device back in my purse, determined to actually try and focus again, before my eyes caught like a water-type on a fishing line and I froze in place.

On the top shelf to my right, more than halfway across the store was a bolt of fabric that I swore the moment my eyes landed on it, a choir began singing in the background. Not taking my eyes off of it, my feet started making their way towards it like I was possessed. Thanking Arceus for his divine intervention amidst my love-sick turmoil, the resulting tunnel vision was an unfortunate consequence for all the people in my way. I made it not ten steps away from the display when I crashed into a poor, unsuspecting customer unknowingly cutting across my path.

"Oh, gosh! I'm so sorry!" I apologized profusely. The guy I'd bumped into thankfully hadn't fallen over from my running into him, and I'd also been able to hang onto my possessions without dropping them all over the floor.

He was older than me but on the young side, maybe mid-twenties. As he straightened himself up, I relaxed when he looked back at me without a hint of annoyance, no matter how justified it would have been.

"No, please it was my fault. I didn't see you," he smiled charmingly, brushing the wrinkles out of his coat.

"Are you both okay?"

We both turned to the new voice, a youngish employee with bright blonde hair and big square glasses with her hands raised as if to offer help.

"Yup! Not a scratch," I answered quickly, flushing with embarrassment from drawing so much attention. "I just meant to get a closer look at that bolt up there."

Pointing to the shiny material, the girl's eyes grew reassured and she smiled brightly. "Of course! I'll go get the ladder to get it down for you."

"Oh, no need," the man I'd walked into was still standing beside us. Turning to me, he asked, "Which one was it?"

As he walked over to the shelf ahead of us, the store employee and I followed after. "You don't mind?" I raised the question, not wanting to put him out.

"Not at all," he shook my concern off politely. "I owe you for bumping into you."

Pointing out the red gradient to him, he reached it down for me quick and easily.

"Wow, what an eye you've got!" the attendant complimented as she took the roll from his arms. "That's a beautiful one."

I hadn't originally planned for Misty's dress to be this colour. The bright scarlet was striking with a subtle sparkle to it, but halfway down the piece faded into a wine red that was almost purple. With her ginger hair and the right pair of shoes, I could see the look coming together so clearly in my head it was like a vision.

I beamed with excitement. "I know, right? It hit me like a ray of light and I couldn't take my eyes off of it." Turning back to the helpful man, I bowed me head respectfully. "Sorry again, and thank you so much for your help!"

"Think nothing of it," he replied kindly. "Take care now, both of you."

"Please visit again!" the employee called after him as he made his way towards the door. "If you're ready Miss, I can help you over at the cutting table."

Once it was all laid out to be measured and cut, the fabric was even prettier than it had been wrapped up. A warm but striking gradient that with any luck, would be just what we needed to set us apart from the rest. Satisfied and beyond relieved with my choice, the girl was very helpful to wrap up my purchase and cash me out.

I headed back to the dorm as a girl on a mission. Nothing was going to stop me from spending the rest of the day sewing this together, thoughts of Paul pestering me or not. I knew once I got down to work, I would be able to concentrate until it was done. I could sort out all my feelings later. I suspected they weren't going anywhere anytime soon anyway.

Nothing was going to distract me for the rest of the day. I promised myself.

It wasn't until I had closed my bedroom door and started to prepare all my sewing tools to begin that I noticed. Tearing through my bags confirmed it for sure, and the horrible shock sucked all the motivation right out of me.

My phone was missing.

A/N: Heeeeeeeeeey... so, on one hand I feel like I should apologize for the update being as delayed as it was. That wasn't my plan, certainly. But in my defense, we were (and still are, in some places) kind of surviving a once-in-a-lifetime global pandemic that's killed millions of people for the past year or so. I wasn't exempt from the hardships that everyone went through as a result of that, and believe it or not, quarantine wasn't as conducive to productivity as one might assume given, ya' know, the collective trauma we all had to experience.

I don't blame anyone if they're mad, or frustrated or annoyed, that this story isn't done yet. I didn't plan to be writing it this long. But over the past 8 years I also didn't plan on suffering a mental health crisis, getting a full-time job, leaving said job to go back to school, or a global pandemic. Life happens and you can't control it. But no matter what it throws at me next, I'm still writing. I still have every intention of finishing this story because I genuinely want to finish it, for myself and for anyone out there who still wants to see how it ends. Whether hundreds of people stick around to read it, or a handful of people, or only one person, or nobody at all, the story will have an ending. So please don't worry.

That's all I wanted to say. Thanks and as always, stay lovely readers!