There was a strong wind when Lincoln got to the school, causing him to hold his head down low as he trudged onward. As an unfortunate result, twenty seconds later, he bumped into a student near the front wall of the school.

"Sorry," he said, looking up, but the student did not acknowledge Lincoln; his eyes were fixated forward. In fact, a sizable group of students were gathered around looking in the same direction, and Lincoln looked to see what they were all staring at.

The brick wall of the school was covered in graffiti. In various colors, crudely drawn penises and swear words defaced the front of the school. Lincoln looked to the ground and noticed around two dozen empty spray paint cans, lying abandoned on the concrete sidewalk.

One kid whistled. "If they ever find out who did this, they're toast."

"Can't they scan for fingerprints or something on the cans?" another asked.

"Not if they used gloves."

"Wow. Do you think it was the same girl who threw eggs at the building?"

Lincoln gritted his teeth at this but said nothing. Lucy had been accused and expelled for the egging of the school, but when he asked her about it that day, she denied responsibility, and he believed her.

Lucy, be honest, he asked her after he heard she was suspended. Did you do it?

No, she said simply.

I won't judge you if you did. Are you sure it wasn't you?

She gritted her teeth. No, Lincoln, I didn't egg the school. Angry, not at Lincoln but at the situation, she went into her room and slammed the door, ending any discussion on the subject.

There was apparently video evidence proving that it was her that committed the crime, but Lincoln didn't bring it up. Whatever video there was couldn't have proved her guilty, because in

his heart of hearts he knew she had nothing to do with the egging. He knew her too well to ever seriously believe that she did.

There was nothing else to see here, and just as Lincoln was about to leave the crowd of students, a crowd that was now getting bigger, he looked forward and saw Lucas Norman making his way down the school sidewalk from the other direction. Lucas saw the crowd of students, saw the wall covered in graffiti, but didn't come over to investigate; in fact, upon seeing the damage done to the school, Lucas looked away and quickly made his way into the building. Did he not care?

Lincoln didn't know all that much about Lucas (all the more reason that he found it considerably stupid that he found himself with feelings for the boy), but from what he could tell, Lucas was not shy, but at the same time, he was a pretty self-effacing person. In the morning before classes, he often sat alone with earbuds in listening to music and doing homework despite the fact he had several different groups of friends he could go off and talk to. He had his own world that he often retreated to whenever he felt like it, but when he came back to reality, he immediately merged back into the school's social structure and talked and laughed and was friends with a large group of various different people, all different personality types and from all different backgrounds; switching for him was effortless and he did so whenever he felt like it, and was in no way shy, the fact that he sometimes kept to himself notwithstanding.

But was seeing a wall covered in graffiti and not even stopping to take a second look at it acting surreptitiously, or willfully ignorant? It was as if Lucas had treated the defaced building as if it was an especially affectionate couple making out in the hallway - he saw it and quickly looked away before rushing somewhere else, wanting nothing to do with it.

Lincoln's train of thought ended when the first bell rang, and he, along with the rest of the crowd, began to turn and make their way into the school. First period would be starting in two minutes and the last way Lincoln wanted to start his morning would be getting marked late.

Throughout the day, there was unsurprisingly a great deal of chatter surrounding the most recent vandalism. There was, at this point, a very clear pattern of attacks upon the school, and it made for quite the mystery. Who was behind all of the attacks, and why? What was to be gained by repeatedly defacing the school?

"If you ask me," said Clyde at lunch, in between bites of broccoli, "there's no way it could be kids from our school. In fact, I'm pretty sure they're adults. I mean, what kid would be able to sneak out at night, do all that, get back to bed, and still wake up ready for school and everything?" He

took a sip of water from his water bottle. "No one from here, I bet. Every kid here who I think would want to vandalize the school doesn't have the gumption for such a big task. Everyone I know who might actually be able to pull it off would never dream of walking around without a hall pass, let alone any sort of complex criminal acts."

"I don't know," said Lincoln softly, resting his head on his arm. He moved his fork around in the syrup on his lunch tray aimlessly, feeling a little under the weather from all of the turmoil in his personal life as of late. "I think you're underestimating them. Some people, you just don't really know what they're capable of."

Clyde, Papa Wheelie, and the rest of their friends continued to talk at length about the vandals and who might be responsible, but Lincoln paid little attention.

Before long, the school bell rang and the school day was over. Lincoln's locker was on the second floor, so he began his walk on up. When he got there, he would grab his stuff, pack up, and begin his walk home.

By the time he arrived to the second floor, most students had already cleared out of the halls, having gone either outside getting on their busses and walking home or at any after school clubs or sports that they were involved with. Lincoln turned the corner that his locker was located on. He saw someone in front of it, though, and as he got closer he saw who it was.

Stella.

"Hey," she said as Lincoln approached.

"Hey yourself."

She moved out of way, allowing Lincoln access to his locker, and he bent down to access his locker.

"What's up?" he asked, rummaging for his things.

"I've been… thinking," she said, and stopped.

Lincoln thumbed through his combination lock, putting in the combination before opening the locker door. "Yeah?"

Stella Dinh and Lincoln had dated on and off throughout high school. The last time they had really been together was about four months ago. They had a lot of fun together, Lincoln remembered, and there was a time where he truly cared for her as much as he could care for anyone, but circumstances always seemed to pull them apart. One time it was because she had to move (but came back shortly after), another it was over some stupid misunderstanding about her pet rabbit… and, their most recent separation four months ago was because her grades slipped terribly. That one hurt the most, and Lincoln vowed after that to never surrender his heart to Stella again. He loved her too much, and losing her over and over again was something he could no longer abide, no matter how hard it was to keep apart from her. Luckily, they were at least able to remain good friends, though these days they didn't talk nearly as much as they had before.

"We should hang sometime," she said at last.

Lincoln smiled as he dug through his things. "Yeah, that sounds fun."

"Anytime this week work for you? I'm off work today and Friday, but I understand if today is too last minute." Stella worked a part time job at a local restaurant, so getting time off often proved difficult.

Lincoln had planned on going home today and reading comics to get his mind off of everything that was going on in his personal life, but he knew that he'd almost certainly just go back to thinking about Lucas. He also had to talk to Lana about how her talk with Lucy about sneaking out had gone last night, but that could wait.

"If neither days work, I guess we could—"

"Todays fine," Lincoln said, chuckling. "It's not like I lead the most exciting life or anything. You're not ruining any major plans."

"Great." Stella smiled.

A couple of hours later, the two were strolling casually around the Royal Woods town center.

"Up to anything interesting lately?" Stella asked.

A beat passed as Lincoln considered telling her about Lucas, but he ultimately decided against it. That would be quite the conversation to have, and he still wasn't ready. The revelation only recently came to him, and he wasn't ready to start blabbering on about it, even to as close of a friend as Stella. He knew, at this point, that his feelings were legitimate, but he had not yet contextualized them against anything but a random crush, and the whole situation was pretty silly if Lincoln was being honest with himself.

"Nothing too much," he said. "Me and Clyde have been working on this video project." They came to a lake, and Lincoln picked up a flat stone from the ground. "How about this morning, huh?" He threw the stone at the lake as they walked, trying to skip it. It skipped only once before falling beneath the surface of the water. "These vandalisms just keep getting worse, I wonder what's next?"

Stella shook her head. "Yeah, it's so… awful. I get that some people don't like school, but what does vandalizing it accomplish? That's just more work for the janitor, and more money out of everyone's taxes to repair."

"Yeah," Lincoln said simply in agreement.

Stella's kindness and goodwill towards others was one of her defining characteristics. It was, in fact, one of the reasons Lincoln had been so drawn to her in the past. No matter the situation, she always seemed to be trying her best to stay happy, and keep others positive, too.

"I just hope they find the culprits soon so this can stop already."

Lincoln and Stella had first been a proper couple two summers ago. It all really started when Lincoln, Stella, Clyde, Chloe, and Jordan had all planned to meet up for lunch and then go hiking to celebrate their first day off from school. That morning, however, Chloe and Jordan texted the group chat saying that they couldn't make it; Chloe's little sister was sick and she had to look after her, and Jordan sprained her ankle playing basketball the night before. When Lincoln got to the cafe, Clyde called him up and said his dads needed him at the last minute to help them with something and he'd have to hang out on a different day.

"Where's Clyde?" Stella had asked, walking up to Lincoln as he put his phone away in his pocket.

"Can't make it today," he explained. "His cats tore up his couch and his dads need help picking up a new one. Their lawyer is coming over this afternoon and they need the house looking good, or something. I couldn't really hear him at the end, his cats were going crazy and he started

chasing them around."

Stella giggled. "Huh," she said, looking up and counting on her fingers. "Jordan, Chloe, Clyde… I guess that leaves just us two, right?"

Lincoln nodded. "Yeah, sure looks that way."

The two elected to continue their plans despite the rest of the friend group not being there. Lincoln, at first, found himself a bit nervous to be with just Stella and no one else. The dynamic was a lot different than what it was like when the rest of their friends were around. Just them, they had more time to listen to one another, and give a greater focus on each other without dividing their attention up among any other friends. Lincoln's nerves were quickly beginning to evaporate, however, as he found talking to Stella on her own to be quite easy to do. The two clicked quite nicely, and found to have a lot more in common than they originally had assumed.

Lincoln told a joke. Whatever the joke was, he forgot, but what he didn't forget was Stella's reaction. Apparently, she had found it pretty funny, because she laughed pretty hard. What started as a giggle turned into a full on laugh, and in that moment, Lincoln noticed just how much he loved to hear her so amused.

He decided it then: There was no reason to be nervous around Stella Dinh.

Presently, Stella punched him lightly on the arm. "Look, it's your sister." She pointed in the direction behind which Lincoln was facing.

He turned to look, but saw nothing. Lincoln faced back to Stella, only to find her blowing a dandelion in her face.

"Gah!" he stumbled backward, taken by surprise, and Stella giggled.

"Why are you so jumpy?"

After that summer day where they hung out one on one for the first time, Lincoln and Stella started to call and text one another a lot more, much closer as friends. They talked about life, family… anything, really - talking to Stella was easy and Lincoln loved to do it. Anytime he had a problem or issue, she always seemed to have the right thing to say to make him feel better, and he, somehow, was able to do the same for her.

He began to learn more about her as a person. She was sweet, in a way that no other person Lincoln knew was. She would talk to old people sitting in the park who's eyes would light up as Stella showed an interest in their stories and life tales. She would feed the ducks at the pond, not for the fun of it, because she truly cared for those animals, making sure everyone got an equal amount of bread. When Mr. Berk's wife fell ill, Stella made a little care package for him, and

instructed Lincoln to place it on his desk for her so that the gift giver remained anonymous.

One day, they decided to play tennis at the tennis court. Lincoln and Clyde would face off against Stella and Jordan.

"Where's Clyde?" Stella had said as Lincoln walked onto the court.

"Couldn't come," he answered. What Lincoln didn't mention was that he had deliberty asked Clyde on a day he knew he'd be busy - of course, not revealing this one tiny detail to Stella was no fault of his, and did neither her nor him the slightest harm.

"Bummer. Jordan couldn't make it either today." The truth was that Stella had not even reached out to her asking to play tennis, but decided not to tell Lincoln because what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

They played tennis that day, got ice cream, and went on back to Stella's house when it started to get dark. There, they sat on her front porch as the sun went down over the distant Michigan mountainscape.

"I really hope he liked it," she was saying about the little care package she secretly made for Mr. Berk. "It has a notecard wishing him well and I got a lot of his students to sign it. If it cheers him up even just a little, then it was worth it."

"Are you running for saint?" Lincoln blurted.

It was a warm summer night, three days before school would start and their Junior year of high school would officially begin. In the distance, Lincoln remembered, those mountains looked so beautiful and at peace.

"Sorry," he said, regretting the words as soon as they had left his lips. "I didn't mean to sound mean."

Stella wasn't offended, thankfully. It took a lot to offend her, come to think of it. "Well, how did you mean to sound?" she asked.

Lincoln thought. "Amazed, I suppose."

"Amazed? At what?"

"...Well, I guess you spend a lot of time thinking about other people. Making them happy. Cheering them up. Just being so positive all the time. I don't understand."

Stella paused. "So?"

"I don't know, I guess. I'm not sure what I'm saying, to be honest."

"I think," Stella said, scooting closer, "You're telling me that I spend too much time thinking about other people.

"That's not it. It's not like you spend too much time doing it, it's just… you're different, is all."

In that moment, maybe it was the lighting, maybe it was the angle, but to Lincoln, Stella's eyes looked larger than ever. He felt like he could drown in them if he looked too deep into them.

"Do you like different?"

"...Yeah," Lincoln said, "I do like different."

At that, Stella's face lit up. "I know what the problem is," she said.

"What?"

"You're jealous." She giggled. "You're unhappy because I'm paying all this attention to other people and not enough to you."

"Right, sure, that's it."

She scooted closer to him on the porch.

"You just want me all to yourself, Link… don't you?"

"W-What are you doing?"

"Well," she cooed, "I'm giving you some attention."

"What do you mean?" Lincoln heard himself say.

"You're really dumb," she whispered into his ear.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

And then the last remaining space between their lips was gone and Lincoln, as he had feared, found himself falling right into her eyes, right there on her porch.

And Lincoln could tell you, that was no saint kissing him.

Back in the present, Lincoln stole a look at Stella as the two walked along the edge of the lake. He remembered, not for the first time, his history with her, but reminded himself of the promise he made after their last separation: He would never again allow himself to date Stella Dinh. That wasn't to say that he regretted his time with her - in fact, it was quite the opposite - but the pain he felt each time he lost her grew greater and greater than it had been the previous time before.

He had loved Stella too much, and gave his heart to her too many times. They had a mutual understanding that they were off limits to date. Things just never seemed to work out, and each time it didn't, it felt like Lincoln's heart was literally being torn out from his chest, thrown on the ground, and trampled upon. He couldn't let it happen one more time, it simply would be too much. Besides, they still made really good friends, so he was content at the very least with that. Going back in a relationship with Stella could also jeopardize that friendship, and, so, friends they remained, and nothing more. It was hard at first, and quite a bit of an adjustment, but they eventually got used to it and things had been going quite well.

"Look Lincoln," Stella said, "I think I see Luna."

"Yeah, like you're fooling me with that again."

"No, really!"

"Sure, Stella, I—"

She grabbed his shoulders, and forcefully turned him around. Lincoln looked ahead and squinted, seeing a figure ahead of them walking down the sidewalk. Sure enough, it actually was Luna, he realized after examining them.

What was she doing in town?

Luna Loud's hands were already shaking before her sister even arrived to the cafe. She looked

out of the building's windows. The skies were overcast, the day was bleak. Fitting, she thought, and lit a cigarette.

She continued to stare outside and eventually a boy, blonde, cute, strolled by. He reminded Luna a little of Lincoln. How old was he now? He was early on into his Junior year right now, so probably sixteen. Then again, he had a summer birthday and started school late, so he was equally likely to be seventeen. She felt bad for a moment that she didn't know her own brother's age, but then again, keeping up with ten different sibling's birthdays could prove to be a difficult task, so she couldn't fault herself too hard for it.

The boy in the cafe went out of sight but seconds later came through the double doors of the cafe and walked up to the counter. The girl at the counter asked him something, probably about his order, and he answered and they both laughed. Luna frowned. She wished that she could interact like that whenever a cute boy or girl said something to her. Usually, though, she was either too drunk or high or stoned to have a real conversation with anyone. She grabbed her coffee and shakily raised it to her lips. Probably why I'm single, she thought, and then checked her watch. Anytime now.

She looked back outside and it began to rain, rivulets of water making their way down the window in lazy streams. The water reminded her of her childhood; how she and her siblings would play with the hose in the backyard, set up an inflatable waterslide in the front yard, chase each other around on the grass with squirt guns. She missed her siblings, missed the connections she had with them. Missed the summer days. Water, sun, cold drinks, going to the beach, cookouts with music and hamburgers and backyard football, Double Rainbow ice cream, getting cool in front of the refrigerator. Missed the winter days. Hot chocolate, throwing snowballs, warming up under blankets, feeling so, so cozy in the Loud house when it was cold outside but warm indoors, the fire roaring in the living room and everyone gathered around it, gathered around until the late hours of the night just talking, just enjoying one another's company. It all came and went so fast, it seemed. Now, she was grown up and fending for herself… and it was a lot harder than she thought it would be.

She jumped a little when she heard the chair pull out from the other end of the table. Luna looked over at Royal Woods city councilwoman Luan Loud. "Hey," she said, putting down her purse. Luan put a styrofoam cup of coffee on the table. "What's up?"

"When did you order that?"

"Just now. You didn't notice? I was in line for a good five minutes."

"...No, I guess not." Luna looked over at the counter; while empty before, there was a good line there now, and customers chartered as they waited to order their beverages. Was she really that out of it right now? How much time has she spent looking out the window? How could she not have noticed the noise gradually increasing in the building?

"What have you been up to?" Luan asked. Luna looked back at her. She was stirring her coffee. "I haven't spoke to you in… six or seven months. Did you ever get to finish that album?"

Luna began to reach for her coffee but stopped herself when she realized that she didn't want Luan to see her hands shaking. "The album. Uh, no, I don't think so."

Luan raised an eyebrow at her from across the table and Luna wondered if she said something wrong. "Are you still enjoying being on the city council?" she asked quickly.

"It's going well. I won reelection pretty easily last time, so I'm not too worried about keeping my seat. In fact…" Outside, the sun began to break through the overcast, and illuminating light came through the window onto Luan's face. Luna noticed how young she looked for her age, how happy she was. "...I'm pretty sure that I want to eventually run to be the next mayor or Royal Woods."

Luna repeated her sister's words in her head to make sure she was processing them right. Mayor?

"Luan, that's great!" she said. "How long have you wanted this?"

"For quite awhile," answered Luan. "I'd have told you sooner… but…"

Silence. Luna shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"I know," she said lowly. "I'm… I'm sorry for not calling you in so long. It's why I agreed to meet you here. Luan, look, I've been busy. Life gets in the way, and well…"

"Life, huh? You certainly haven't been working on your album, so what have you been up to the past few months?"

Luna thought. Drugs… house parties… the occasional concert (most of which she snuck in)... an entire twenty days total in prison…

She sunk lower in her chair. As if on cue, clouds once again swallowed up the sun, and the room grew just a bit darker. The past few years of Luna's life had been her worst. When she was fifteen, making music was fun. She had created a few albums, the first one named Cannibal Hills, and the second one, with a more tame title, titled Reaching High. Luna was proud of these. She made no money on them, and the few free downloads they had gotten online had certainly brought her no fame. It didn't matter, though, because the enjoyment that she had making them and the raw passion that went into their creation brought Luna more joy than any monetary reward or noteiterty within the music community could have ever given her.

Her days of carefree music making were long over, though, and now she was an adult, and an unemployed one.

She clung to the nebulous hope that she would one day make it big, and never worried about building herself a career. Every job she had was a temporary necessity, a quick pit stop on the road to stardom. Barista, waitresses, cleaning toilets at Wendy's. She carried out her tasks and collected her check at the end of week, and that was that. She never thought long term, never really applied herself because why would she? In six months or a year, she'd be flying around the world and hobnobbing with Kanye, Miley, and Taylor Swift. Yep, any minute now.

She went through her life with her head in the clouds, never thinking about the present but always the future. Stars blurred her vision, blinded her, and somewhere along the way, her feet got tangled and she fell hard. She didn't mean to, God, she didn't, but it happened, and in her more sober moments, like now, she searched her memory banks with a fine tooth comb in an effort to find out where exactly she went off the rails. Which came first, the loss of passion or the first hints of addiction? Did she start using to soften the blow of realizing she would never make it, or did she stop caring to because she was using?

Luna wasn't quite sure, and thinking about it gave her a headache. For the past three months, she'd been dragging through life like a shuffling corpse in an old Romero movie, dead yet somehow alive. She was high when she could afford it, and that blunted the edge; when she wasn't high, however, the realization that she ruined her life started coming back to her, and that was worse than the withdrawals. Every family seems to have that one kid who just can't get their feet under them, the runt, the weakling, the little birdy who just can't fly like the others, and in the Loud family, it was her. Her sisters were successful - just look at Luan - and she was a failure. No one else needed to ask Mom and Dad for money. No one else knew the shame of asking for handouts from strangers. No one else had to crash on their friends' couches because they couldn't support themselves.

Sometimes it was easy to hate her sisters. Sometimes, she looked at them and their perfect little lives, and it ate her up inside. She wished she was like them, she wished she could have a good job, a good partner, and a good head on her shoulders...but someone had to be the black sheep, and the universe decided it was her.

It would probably always be this way, she reflected.

She might as well hang herself, what point was there in going on?

Luan's voice brought her out of her reprieve. "...Luna?"

"Huh?" Luna asked. The low din of voices roared in her ears like pounding surf and her temples throbbed with a coming tension headache. Warm, slimy sweat trickled down her forehead but she was cold. Her hands were jittering and her stomach rolled sickly.

Luan took a deep, resolute breath through her nose and said, "Are you still taking drugs, Luna?"

Luna's heart dropped, and sitting up straight as if to communicate just how well she was, she shook her head vehemently. "Nah, nah, I-I don't mess with that stuff anymore. I just...I started a new job and I'm helping Tabby with her daughter a lot, so, yeah, you know, things get away from me. Plus, I am working on the album. I had to do a lot of rewrites. Not happy with the old stuff. Gotta constantly work, you know? Improve and, uh, yeah, all that."

She realized she was rambling and cut herself off. She picked up her coffee and the glass trembled in her hands, a little of the contents sloshing over the rim. She lifted it to her lips and took a drink, then sat it down again. Luan watched her with something like concern, then pursed her lips in thought. "You don't look well," she said, "what's the matter?"

"Nothing," Luna said quickly, "just a little sick. That's all." She forced a laugh. "I told you, I've been busy and it's starting to catch up to me. What about you? You busy a lot?" She desperately hoped Luan would take the bait and change the subject, but when she did, something dark and biter stirred in the pit of Luna's stomach.

That was easy.

Too easy.

It was almost like Luan wanted to change the subject just as badly as she did. If she really cared, she would have pressed harder, forced her to open up and tell the truth the way Mom did.

This wasn't Luan's problem, she admonished herself. She had her own life and her own worries; she couldn't sit there and worry over her fuck up older sister. It wasn't fair to expect that, it wasn't even fair to expect Mom and Dad to do it. She was a grown woman and grown women should be able to take care of themselves. Lori did it, even Leni did it, but not her. She was the charity case and resident loser of the family, and why? That was the question that plagued her every sober thought. Why was she like this? Oh, she could blame the drugs and she often did, but there was something deeper than that, something more. They say addiction is a disease, and while they're not wrong, they're not entirely right either. Most times, addiction is a symptom of something else. People who use typically use for a reason.

What was her reason?

There had to be one, right? All of...this...couldn't have been a cruel twist of fate. Things, big things, don't just happen, just like life itself didn't happen. There was meaning to these events.

Weren't there?

After an hour of small talk, Luan got a text from someone and had to leave. Luna secretly wondered if her sister was faking so she could scurry away, but Luan wouldn't do that. Bailing when the going got tough was something Luna would do, and Luan was a far, far better person than Luna could ever hope to be.

"It was really good seeing you," Luan said with an elfin grin that never failed to make her look five years younger. "We need to do this more often."

Luna, arms folded over her chest for warmth, ran her hands anxiously up and down her arms. She felt sicker than she did when she sat down; her stomach opened and closed like a flexing fist and blood crashed in her temples. "Yeah, it was awesome to see you," she said. What little shame and self-respect she had left bubbled up from her nauseous, burning stomach, and she shoved it reluctantly back down again. Darted her eyes to the table in disgrace, she said, "I was wondering, could, I uh, borrow some money?"

Maybe it was her own guilty conscience, but the atmosphere between them darkened just as surely as the sun in the clouds. "How much?" Luan asked. To Luna, her voice was cold and flat, strained even.

She was tempted to ask for fifty so she could buy something to eat, but she only needed twenty.

"Just twenty," she said.

Luan picked up her purse, sat it in her lap, and rummaged through for her pocket book. Luna stared into her coffee, feeling strangely exposed and vulnerable, and only looked up when she heard the rustle of bills. Luan held out two tens, and Luna took them without meeting her eyes.

"Thank you," she muttered.

"I gotta go," Luan said and slid out of her seat, "like I said, this was really nice, we need to do it again."

"Yeah," Luna said, "yeah, we do."

"You need to keep in touch, though," Luan said as she shouldered her purse.

"I will," Luna said, "I promise."

She watched Luan walk out, the sound of her heels clicking on the floor like hoofbeats of doom, and sighed in relief when she was gone. That was harder than she thought it would be, and she hoped she never had to do it again.

Something told her, however, that she probably would.

That thought right there, and the sinking feeling that accompanied it - a feeling of despair and failure - galvanized Luna. She was done, she decided, of being such a loser. She couldn't flip a switch and change everything wrong about her life, she realized, but at the very least, she needed to start getting out of this rut. It was unhealthy, living like this, and nothing good would ever come out of it, she realized.

But how?

It was easier said than done. She'd probably just have to start by moving back home… it wasn't glamorous, but it was a whole lot better than constantly couch surfing. She'd get gainful employment, establish a steady income, and do music on the side - just as a hobby, if at all. Luna learned that hard way that she couldn't bank her whole life plan on making it big. She needed stability, something more reliable. Music needed to be secondary.

Her path forward decided, she got up and left the café.

Next stop, she thought… Royal Woods.