Memory

Cal, I'm scared.
Everything could go wrong,
And everyone can see us.
All we can do is pretend it's not happening,
And hope no one notices.

Callie puts one last make-up brush in the backpack and zips it closed. That's the last of it; all her pillows are in storage until she and Mar get a bigger apartment or somewhere to put them, all the sweatshirts and hats and umbrellas that took up residence here over the years have been brought home. All that's left of her and Mar's time as hosts are the contents of their backpacks (Mar's a little fuller than Callie's), the farewell balloons, and any last gifts from their coworkers.

"You ready?" Mar asks.

Callie swallows the lump in her throat. "Yeah," she says, straightening up. "I can't believe that's everything."

"It's not," Mar says, shoving a pillow the size of Callie's palm into her hands. "Maybe you could see that if you'd take off those shades."

Callie forgot she was wearing them. She takes the pillow and puts it, and her shades, into the backpack, then straightens.

Mar rolls her eyes and grabs a pair of shades off Callie's face. The light makes her flinch and cover her eyes. A headache builds behind her temples as she pulls her hands away at last. Didn't she just take those...?

"I didn't think you'd be the first to cry," Mar teases, putting the sunglasses in Callie's backpack. She wraps one arm around Callie in a hug. "I'm gonna miss this place."

Callie hugs Mar back. She must have just... just intended to take the shades off, but didn't. She can be forgetful like that. Yeah. "Me, too." She wipes her eyes and pulls away. "We've been here for forever."

"And in a week, nothing will be," Marie says. "They're moving to Deca Tower and this'll just be—"

"Maybe it'll be remade into a store?" Callie can't stop her streaming eyes; she digs in her purse for some pain pills. "And we can shop here, and get changed in our old dressing room."

Mar chuckles. "Maybe. Let's go. It's time to announce the stages."

For the last time, they stand there. Blackbelly and Moray, two of their favorites; Callie played them both this week, trying to work off some nerves, along with the reef and muscleforge. They play off each other, giving advice, but when they're finished discussing the ranked modes, the teleprompter clicks over to SAY GOODBYE, and the two look at each other.

"Well, this is it," says Callie.

Mar shakes her head. "We have so many memories here..."

"Remember that first squidmas splatfest, when I decided to give you all your presents instead of doing our closing?"

Mar chuckles, though her eyes are watery. "Remember when you kept getting lost trying to find our dressing room?"

Callie stomps her foot. "Oh, come on! That was only, like, five times!"

They both laugh, but Callie's breath hitches, and a tear escapes. She wipes it. "Anyway," she says, looking back at the camera. "Inkopolis... this is the last time we, the Squid Sisters, will be doing the news for you."

"And it's been an honor doing it for all these years," Mar adds. "Thank you."

They both bow. "We'll see you again soon, Inkopolis," Callie says, forcing a smile. "But this is Callie..."

"And Marie."

Marie. Marie, Marie, Marie.

Together, Callie and Marie say, "And all of you remember: Stay Fresh!"

The camera clicks off after they pose, and they relax. Callie lets out a breath and turns to Marie once more. "Do I have to give back my key?" she whispers. "It just feels so... final."

Marie glances around, but everyone else left the room already. "I'm keeping mine, unless they ask for it," she says. "The next people to own the building will change the locks, anyway."

Callie nods, wiping her eyes. Their backpacks are by the door; she goes to hers and puts her shades on again, to hide it. "I'll stop at the storage place to drop off my stuff," she says.

Marie nods. "I'll swing by the radio station. They're talking about giving me my own show, a study hour full of fun facts and procrastination. I'll head out first."

Callie gives her a hug, then steps away. When Marie opens the door, the director is standing by it. "Before you leave, Mary, I'll need your key," he says.

Oh, squit, it is Mary. How is Callie—

Mary fixes him with a blank look. "I lost it."

"You... lost it?" He stares at her. "Mary, this isn't a—"

"Callie and I both," Mary says, nodding. "We had to get that new intern, what's his name, to let us in this morning." She sweeps past him, into the hall.

Their director looks at Callie. She bites back a laugh and shrugs. Same old Mary.

Mary. It is Mary. She misheard earlier. Because Mary would absolutely correct anyone who called her by the wrong name.

But she still waits, and turns on the studio TV, and rewatches the last broadcast they ever did on Inkopolis News.

"But this is Callie..."
"And Mary."
"And all of you remember: Stay Fresh!"

She misheard it. That's all. It's a good thing no one noticed; they rarely call each other by name, just nicknames, and cod would she be in for teasing if—Callie's breath catches in her throat, and she takes a deep breath. Releases it. Another.

She's fine. They have a concert in a week and Mary has her radio show and interviews with three different music magazines and Callie has a lot of filming to do for Fortunate Betrayal and then auditions for Legally Squid, all before mid-June. It's stress. She'll get over this.

She will.

She has to.