Author's Note: Hey, lovely people. To the few people reading this, I love you! I hope you're having a good holiday season. I've been struggling lately, between holiday stress and especially now since I'm sick and it's my birthday tomorrow. I had to reschedule my birthday tattoo :( But... I'll be 24! It's amazing how the time flies. I was 14 or 15 when I started writing fanfic.

Another thing, I'm greatly considering turning this story into my own piece of original fiction. That's basically what it is at this point, anyway. But this fandom stays stubbornly dear to my heart, so I hope you enjoy this chapter! Hopefully, one day, you can find it on the shelves :)

Julchen opened the door and stepped inside, taking a moment to survey her surroundings. She had never been to this bar before – it had only just recently opened, taking up the spot the old Blockbuster used to occupy. Immediately, she could tell she was underdressed. The bartenders were dressed in black, button down shirts with slacks, hair pasted into neat buns or elegant pompadours. Julchen looked down at her own outfit. She had just gotten off work, having traded close for a miserable lunch shift. Afterwards, she had simply shed her work shirt in the car to reveal the black tank top she had underneath. Her jeans were ripped, and she had no clue where the stains on her boots had come from.

"Jules! Over here!"

Carmen waved from a nearby table, Marianne seated across from her. Carmen was in the too-short cut-off jean shorts the two of them had been trying to convince her to let go of for years, paired with a hot pink t-shirt with a cartoon dinosaur on it. Marianne wore a shiny red cocktail dress. Figures. Nearly a decade and they never figured out how to dress like they were all going to the same place.

Julchen walked to the table and sat between them. "I thought you said we were going to a bar," she said to Marianne, eyeing the leatherbound menu in front of her.

"This is a bar," said Marianne. "A wine bar. They also serve small plates!"

Julchen swore she could feel her stomach begin to eat itself at the mere mention of small plates. "We couldn't have gone somewhere with buffalo wings?" she mumbled as she picked up the menu. She was faced with a huge list filled with words she didn't understand, all printed in the smallest text imaginable. "Um…"

"It's half-off bottles today," she Marianne. She reached across the table and pointed at one of the tiny lines. "I've heard marvelous things about this Zinfandel."

"I want a White Claw," said Carmen.

Julchen snorted. "I don't suppose they have Köstritzer Black?"

"You're free to ask," said Marianne flatly. "I'll order for the table."

A few minutes later, they ended up with what Marianne called a very drinkable Cabernet, which Julchen thought tasted exactly like every wine she had ever tried, but whatever, she would drink spiked cave water at this point. The three of them served themselves heavy pours. Julchen looked over the food section of the menu, eyeing the flatbreads and charcuterie boards, and for a second wondered if she could DoorDash a burger to this place. She really should have eaten at family meal, but the damn host triple sat her again.

Carmen picked up her glass and took a long drink. "God, it feels like it's been a million years since we've gotten together!"

"Far too long," agreed Marianne.

Julchen tried to remember the last time the three of them had hung out. It must have been on campus, probably before finals. So weeks, if not months ago. Ever since high school, time was just ricocheting by. All three of them were set to graduate next year and Julchen still felt like a freshman. She took a long drink to set that thought aside.

"So tell me, Carmen," said Marianne. "Are you still seeing that… lovely young lady?"

Carmen nodded cheerfully. "It'll be a year next month."

Julchen snorted behind the lip of her glass. "And how's that going?"

Carmen beamed. "Oh, wonderful!"

"The last time I met that girl, she threw a latte at a moving car because they ran a stop sign," said Marianne, shaking her head. "Honestly. I thought that driver was going to call the police!"

"Lovina has a strong moral compass! And she's very spirited!" Carmen spoke over the low buzz of conversation and music in the restaurant. A few diners turned to look at her.

"That's one word to describe her," said Marianne wearily. "Would you like a top-off, Jules?"

Julchen looked down at her glass and noticed it was nearly empty. She shrugged, tipping her glass towards Marianne. "Hey, at least Carmen has something steady going on. Even if the chick is completely batshit." Carmen glared at that, and Julchen flipped her hand at her. She looked pointedly to Marianne. "That's more than you can say."

"Oh, please. I'm willfully single, darling," said Marianne. "I'll have you know, I had three lovely dates just last week."

"Oh! Who's the lucky person?" asked Carmen, leaning in.

Marianne laughed. "Three different young men," she said. "None of them particularly impressed me, but it was fun while it lasted."

Julchen took a sip of wine. It created a warm feeling in her stomach, which burned pleasantly as she drank. "Meaning, you took them all home?"

"Naturally," said Marianne. Her smile faded, and she flipped her blonde hair from her eyes with a long, exasperated sigh. "I have to say, my romantic pursuits have been tragically lacking in femininity. Sometimes it feels impossible to find like-minded women."

"You mean, gay girls?" said Carmen with a short, dry laugh. "You're telling me! I met Lovina on a dating app. Before her, I could never ask a girl out without her looking at me like I was crazy. It's brutal out there!"

Marianne tipped her head patronizingly. "You did give that girl in your English Lit class a full bouquet of roses after one coffee date…"

Carmen threw up her hands in exasperation. "She flirted with me for weeks, I thought we were in love!"

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but she was probably just being friendly." Marianne lowered her lashes. The flickering light off the candle caught her blue eyes. "It can be nearly impossible to tell, I know."

"Dating apps are trash," said Julchen low. She reached for the bottle and topped off her glass.

Marianne continued, lifting her eyes again. "We've all been there." She shrugged, something between humor and resignation. "Falling for a straight girl, I mean."

Julchen was zoning out on the menu, swirling her wine in her hand, and trying to decide if garlic bread or fried brussels sprouts sounded more filling. A long, silent moment passed, and she looked up, only to find two sets of eyes staring a hole through her skull.

"What?" said Julchen finally.

"Nothing," said Marianne with a shrug. Julchen had a feeling it definitely was not nothing, but the restaurant was playing a song she recognized, and she was distracted by the urge to hum along. She reached for the bottle of wine only to find it empty, and Marianne continued to speak. "You're quiet, Julchen. It's not like you."

"Am I?" Julchen was tempted to say if maybe her friends would talk about something a little more interesting, she wouldn't be as quiet. Lately, it seemed like whenever they got together, all anyone ever wanted to talk about was dating. Seriously, did no one have anything else going on? It was boring. "Girls this, girls that…" she mumbled under her breath.

Marianne turned to her. "What was that?"

And maybe she had spoken a little louder than intended. Julchen tried to come up with a comeback, only to be relieved by their server approaching the table. She ordered the first dish she saw on the menu, some vegan chicken thing, and Marianne ordered another bottle of wine. Another few minutes passed, Carmen telling a story about something that had happened in class.

"It was such a disaster," said Carmen. "After that, we had zero time to practice. One of the girls didn't even show up to the presentation! We had to do a group lyrical piece on the emotional impacts of climate change with only two people!"

"A disaster," agreed Marianne, shaking her head. "Why didn't she show up?"

"Something ridiculous." Carmen swung her arm wildly in front of her, her face bright and flushed. "I mean, I suppose it was a car accident. But it wasn't like she died. I saw her at the vocal performance showcase at the end of the semester. She had a tiny wrist brace, that's it!"

"That reminds me of my second-year exhibition," said Marianne. "I knew a girl who didn't have her final designs in time, and her excuse was her dog messed on one of the dresses."

Carmen laughed, far too loudly. "The old dog ate my homework?"

"Is art school always this wild?" asked Julchen.

"No," said Marianne. "It's mostly a slog. Long nights, lots of coffee. I'm sure you can relate."

At least they had stories, thought Julchen a bit bitterly. Her college career was mainly dominated by a blur of essays, an occasional cram session before a midterm. "I had to do a group research project last semester," she said, reaching for the newly opened wine that had magically appeared on the table. "That kind of sucked, I guess."

"You know what that reminds me of?" said Carmen. Their server appeared and placed their orders on the table. Julchen eyed her dish. The fried vegan chik'n looked good, she guessed, but it was barely enough food for a toddler. "Remember those volunteer hours we had to do in high school? I think it was junior year?"

Julchen snorted. "Who remembers shit about high school?"

Marianne lent forward. "No, I think I do remember that. For that god-awful PE class."

"We raised money for the children's hospital!" Carmen tapped her lip thoughtfully, smearing some of the sparkly gloss on her finger. "I think we settled on…"

Marianne hummed an interjection. "A bake sale!"

Julchen stopped chewing, a sudden gulp of nausea ripping through her stomach. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she said. She picked up her glass and took a long drink.

Marianne waved her hand. "Of course you, do Jules. It was the three of us and that one girl you were so fond of," she said. "Madeline."

"Wasn't the whole thing a disaster?" asked Carmen.

Julchen took another long drink, though her stomach was starting to fight against it. She looked at her food and felt even worse at the thought of eating it. Not this, not again…

Marianne nodded. "Yes, though I can't for the life of me remember why. I think that was the last time I ever spoke to that girl."

"Oh yeah." Carmen looked at Julchen pointedly. "What ever happened to her, anyway?"

"Nothing! Oh my God, who the hell cares? I forgot she even existed!" A woman at the next table turned to shoot Julchen a look; she shot her one right back. She reached for the wine again and filled her glass, splashing a few drops on the white tablecloth.

"I was just asking…"

Julchen set her glass down only to knock over her long-forgotten water. It spilled out on the table, drippled through the rips in her jeans. She fumbled it back upright. "And who cares about a stupid bake sale? I mean, come on, it was years ago, just get over it!"

Carmen leant forward with a napkin, blotting. She picked up the ice cubes and placed them back in the glass. "Do you want a piece of bread?"

Marianne slid her own water glass forward. "Darling, have some of this."

Julchen thought she had forgotten about that day. Just like she thought she was over Madeline, or that she would never check her Twitter again, or she would delete all those embarrassing drafts of emails stashed away in password-protected folders in her notes app, where she came up with different ways to ask Madeline what went wrong and they just maybe be friends again? She finished her glass and regretted it immediately. The chair she was sitting on was vibrating.

"I think I need… to use the bathroom," said Julchen shakily. The table spun dangerously in a circle.

"I think we better go with you," said Carmen. "Marianne, do you have a hair tie?"

Julchen formed the beginnings of a protest, but it died in the back of her throat, pushed down with the sour of bile. She stood, and that was the last she remembered of that restaurant.

…

Julchen opened her eyes only to immediately shut them again, a sharp pain radiating from behind her temples. She brushed her hand over the space next to her. The sheets were silk, rather than the flannel ones on her own bed. She opened her eyes again, just barely. Everything in her vicinity was pink. She was in Marianne's room. About a second passed, and the previous night came flooding back in a torrent of shame. What had she said? Why had she drunk so much? And why was this somehow, definitely Madeline's fault?

"She's alive!" Carmen galivanted from out of nowhere, a flurry of synthetic fur and neons. She was wearing a unicorn onesie, the hood flopped over her outgrown pixie cut. It was beginning to curl out at the ends, almost like a mullet. "How are you feeling, princess?"

"Fantastic," Julchen groaned. She forced herself upward. "Where's Marianne?"

"Making breakfast." Carmen set a glass of water on the nightstand, and two white pills beside it. "Well, more like lunch, I guess."

Julchen squinted. "What time is it?"

"About one-thirty." Carmen sat next to her on the bed, crossing her legs like a grade schooler.

"Christ." Julchen took the pills with a large sip of water. She pulled the glass away, a few drops spilling down her chin and onto Marianne's duvet. She fought the urge to gag and said, "Lay it on me, Car. Did I make a total ass of myself?"

Carmen made what Julchen was sure she thought was a serious face, but ended up as more of a goofy grin. "It wasn't that bad…"

"I thought we were past the point of sparing feelings." She gave Carmen a light slap on the knee. "Come on, I let you have it after New Year's."

Carmen laughed. "What happened, again?"

"You tried to tip a drag queen," said Julchen. "Except she wasn't a drag queen, she was our Uber driver. And she didn't take it as a compliment."

"Dios mio, I forgot that one!" Carmen flopped over on her back. "In my defense, she was absolutely serving!"

"She was doing something; I'll give you that." Julchen sipped at her water. It was a slow process, but she was winning. "So, how bad was it?"

"In all honesty, it wasn't too bad. You threw up a couple times at the bar, we got you back here, and you rambled for a couple minutes and then passed out. It wasn't your proudest moment, but it definitely wasn't your worst." Carmen smirked. "Your worst was probably Halloween, freshman year. But who's counting?"

"God," said Julchen. This was just embarrassing. She knew her limits, she could drink any one of her uncles under the table, and it was a few little glasses of wine that did her in. Drinking on an empty stomach. It was a rookie mistake.

"Although, Jules, I did have one question."

Oh, no. "Shoot."

"Did something happen recently?" Carmen crossed her arms behind her head, staring blankly at the ceiling. "Maybe… with Madeline?"

Fucking Madeline. It was all her fault, Julchen was right. She needed this to stop coming up. It was as if everyone expected her to burst out into tears, loudly mourning a friend she hadn't spoken to since low-rise jeans were cool. "No. Why do you ask?"

"You seem a little preoccupied recently. Reserved, almost." Carmen sat up and looked Julchen in the eyes, a solemn expression on her face that didn't look right on it. "I can only remember one other time you've ever acted like this. It was the beginning of senior year."

Well, the timeline certainly scanned. Was it really that obvious? Julchen could only guess it was, as Carmen could probably go weeks without noticing the sky had changed color. "We don't speak anymore," said Julchen. That much was true. "I think it's just weird being home." And that wasn't exactly true.

Carmen pursed her lips, her hardened gaze a sharp contrast from the cross-eyed pink unicorn resting on her forehead. "Well, if you ever feel like talking about – "

"Oh, ladies!" Marianne's sing-song voice came floating from the kitchen. "Brunch is served!"

Julchen managed to pry herself out of Marianne's bed, her pounding head having subsided to a dull ache. The smell of coffee and bacon filled the white marble kitchen. Marianne had her hair tied up in a bun, a few blonde curls framing her face. A silky floral bathrobe hung off one of her shoulders. She hummed a tune, something soft and jazzy, as she filled three glasses with orange juice out a glass pitcher and set a plate of toast on the center of the table. There were three plates set immaculately, each with bacon, cut fruit, and what looked to be an omelette.

"Jesus, Marianne, overboard much?" said Julchen as she sat down. Her stomach twisted at the sight of food, even though she knew how good Marianne's cooking was. She picked up a piece of toast and nibbled the corner.

Marianne batted her eyelashes, the picture of feigned humility. "Oh, please, I whipped this up in no time at all." She sat beside them, clutching a mug shaped like Hello Kitty's face, and eyed Julchen's plate. "Start with the bacon. The grease will settle your stomach."

As if she'd never dealt with a hangover before… Julchen begrudgingly did what she was told. Infuriatingly, it worked.

Carmen, having already finished her bacon, cut eagerly into the omelette. "I love staying here. It's like a bed and breakfast."

Julchen, feeling slightly less like death, started on her omelette. It was spinach, eggplant, and goat cheese, and looked like it belonged on the cover of a magazine. Marianne was nothing if not completely over the top. "Seriously. When can I expect my in-room massage?"

"If only!" Marianne laughed and swirled her glass of orange juice. A brief blank expression passed over her eyes, and then she looked up with a smile. "You know what?"

"Chicken butt?" said Carmen, almost impulsively. Julchen flicked her napkin at her.

Marianne ignored them. "Last night was so nice. I forgot how lovely it is to all be together."

"Even with Jules puking up merlot and vegan food?"

Julchen felt her cheeks flush, and she dealt with it by kicking Carmen under the table. "We're eating, dude!"

Marianne sighed, smiling wistfully. She was looking out the bay window beside the table. "I've been thinking about something recently."

Julchen scrunched her eyebrows. "Are you dying?"

"Out with it!" exclaimed Carmen.

"No patience, either of you." Marianne set her glass down and brought her red-manicured hands together. "Ladies, we've all been so busy with work and school. I think it would be beneficial for all of us to get out of the humdrum for a while."

Julchen looked at Carmen. "She's dying."

Carmen nodded. "Definitely dying."

Marianne groaned dramatically. "You two are absolutely impossible! I'm proposing we take a trip!"

Carmen's eyes widened. "Oooh."

Julchen's car needed to be realigned, and her check engine light had been on for the past month. Not to mention her books for the upcoming semester, and the security deposit on the apartment the three of them were getting, and rent when she moved… She looked at Marianne with a wry smirk. "A trip? With what money?"

Marianne settled back into her chair. "All expenses paid."

"Yay for Mari's rich parents!" cried Carmen, shooting her fists in the air. "Where are we going?"

Well, who was Julchen to argue with "free?" "I've always wanted to go to the Bahamas," she said.

Marianne rolled her eyes. "Please. As much as I would love a tropical getaway, I was thinking something a bit more… quaint. A chance to disconnect from it all." Marianne pulled out her phone and opened a web page she must have already had ready. "Something like this."

It was a photo of a cabin that was bigger than Julchen's house, with wooden walls and floors, a brick fireplace, and huge, paneled windows overlooking the mountains. "Holy shit," said Julchen.

"Isn't it marvelous? There's a hot tub, an outdoor shower, and a theater room!"

"Wow!" said Carmen. "Where is it?"

"Just a couple states over. I figured we could drive, really embrace the rustic nature of it." Marianne took her phone back and flipped to Google Maps. "It's just a tad under a ten-hour drive."

Yeesh. Well, the further away, the better, Julchen supposed. "As long as we take your car. Mine would literally disintegrate. And I don't trust Carmen's."

Carmen looked offended. "Hey, Gustavo has his quirks, but he runs just fine!"

Julchen sighed. "Car, it shakes when you take it over 60."

"That's why I don't take him over 60!"

Marianne shook her head. "The Audi would be too cramped. I'll rent an SUV."

Julchen snorted. "Rich people."

"So, it's settled." Marianne locked her phone and placed it on the table. "The first week in July will be spent in paradise! Put your time-off requests in now."

Chun-Yan was usually pretty good about vacation time, thankfully. It was a week of money she was missing out on, but Julchen was fairly certain she would end up in an asylum otherwise. A break from this town sounded like exactly what she needed. A few days off work, some time away from Madeline's house staring at her as if it were alive. It was the kind of reset that would put this craziness behind her for good.

To be continued...