Charmcaster and Ben have a little chat. A trip down memory lane of how Charmcaster got to where she was. And Ben realises he might have done a big oopsie.


Caroline didn't like surprises. Well, to be perfectly clear, she did like surprises. There were two types of surprises that existed in her mind: the ones where after a miserable day, your best girlfriend hugs you in her chic designer sweater, draws you a nice, warm bath, and both of you eat ice cream out of the tub watching romcoms; and turds.

When she'd found one Ben fucking Tennyson in that bathtub, a lot of the scattered pieces and hazy memories of last night's adventures led to one conclusion that had her scrunching her nose up in disgust at what that thought led to. Like seeing one soggy shit all over your doormat.

In the strangest case of denial and protest, he did not take his punishment like a man and let her step on his balls as retribution. He did, however, offer to buy breakfast to talk about their little situation and to get an explanation of how she ended up here of all places.

She asked him politely yet firmly to go fuck himself.

The hurt in his eyes did not quite quell the rage roiling in her beating heart, but her hate boner wasn't satisfied yet, and she allowed him the opportunity to try one more time, just to have that satisfaction of denying him.

"Look, if last night was so bad for you, let me repay you to make up for it." She perked up at that, a chance to humiliate and have Tennyson under her thumb. Oh, how glorious this would be.

"Within reason!" He added that last bit quickly. Damn, she was too transparent. Next time, she had to be better if she really wanted to draw out Tennyson's suffering.

So that's how it came to be that the two sat by the poolside in the early morning sun, her pulling off her tan and her aviators shielding people from seeing her very bloodshot eyes. Plus, the sun was being loud in its brightness.

"The last time I saw you, it was at the Most Delicious Game." Ben interrupted her musings, setting down the bag of ice from his shiny new black eye. "And then you disappeared. For months."

"Really, I hadn't noticed." Her blasé words would hopefully tell him to get the message.

"Well, I did." He didn't.

She perked a trimmed eyebrow at him as if what he said meant anything. Who gave a rat's ass about her being a psychotic, power-hungry villain and fucking off from the face of the earth? It was a win-win, really. Everyone had one less thing to worry about, and she got to drink all the tastiest fruity beverages that she wanted.

Speaking of. "Can ya girl get another Piña Colada?"

"What are we doing, Charmcaster?" Ben sighed, exasperated at the weirdness of the situation.

"One, don't call me Charmcaster. Two, I am multitasking by nursing a hangover with a Piña Colada that is not in my hand right now and getting this tan. Four, you are trying to figure out what my deal is, which is cute with the black eye; it suits you." Caroline shrugged, seeing that no one would oblige her order and gave up.

"Fine, Carol." He appeased.

"Caroline." She snapped back, and Ben's patience slipped by the second.

"Oh, come on!"

"Only friends call me Carol. And right now, you're lucky I'm entertaining this conversation after what you did last night." Was she being antagonistic on purpose? Yes. Was she watching how Ben squirmed and puffed his cheeks for her own entertainment? Also yes.

"We didn't do that last night!"

"Oh really, great! How about you jump in the pool? Maybe you'll finally get your dick wet."

"Can you just—" Ben seethed, taking deep breaths through his nose before calming himself.

"Use your words."

"Nothing happened." His left eye twitched from anger or annoyance, she didn't know, but it was getting more fun to mess with him.

"Sure, nothing happened."

"Believe what you want. I just wanna know how you ended up at a hotel resort."

"If you must know, Tennyson, Camilla is my best friend, and her connection with Eddie is what got me a little free trial of the executive suite."

"Taking good care of it too, by the looks of it." He sniped, and she bristled at that. What would he know? He had a pretty good life with family, friends and a shitty, messed up room that came with it because he was a teenage boy. Her? She had to survive, live from place to place with her dear old uncle and take what she could get. So what, if the room was a little messy, at least she could afford the luxury to have things again.

He snapped his fingers in her face.

"Why don't you use your magic?"

Suddenly, this conversation wasn't entertaining anymore.

"That's none of your business."

"It is. You're a villain. Who knows how many people you've tricked or charmed at this point. And my job is to stop people like you," Ben's eyebrows narrowed, looking at her with his lips pressed in a thin line. It was up to her if she took it as a threat or a promise, and she wasn't in a good mood for threats or promises. "Hell, maybe you charmed your grandma into liking you too."

She threw her drink in his face.

"We're done here." She scowled, setting the empty glass aside. Her footsteps pounded the pavement to get away from him.

"Carol, wait! I'm - I'm sorry!" She heard him calling behind her but wasn't interested in whatever he had to say. He made it very clear before. After all, she was a villain, but that didn't stop a stray tear from falling from her cheek.

Carolina was the woman's name who'd told Charmcaster to hop aboard the van in the desert. Despite the many air fresheners on the rear-view mirror, the van smelt like chicken feathers and moist eggs even with the air-conditioning going on full blast.

She wound down the window, hoping to air out the smell. Carolina laughed.

Carolina was a picture of country girl bubbliness. She wasn't your typical model attractive but had that look that made you think she was the sweet next-door neighbour type. But it was everything else about her that told a different story. Hair tied into a braid with a symbol etched into a bead at the end. Calloused hands that knew hard labour and did not shy from it and tan lines from constant work in the sun. Yet she smiled as if she had a secret that no one else knew.

"So what the heck were you doing out in the desert?" She asked.

"I did poorly in a show and got dropped." Charmcaster's dryness matched the desert air outside, and Carolina raised her brow.

"Out in the desert?"

"Yup." She said, popping the 'p'.

"No kidding? Show business must be ruthless nowadays." Carolina hummed to herself and looked at her outfit up and down. "So, what was your...uh...act?"

"Magic."

"Oh, like street magic?"

"...Something like that." Carolina sucked her teeth, feeling the acidness in Charmcaster's voice at her suggestion.

"Did you go by anything for your act?"

"Charmcaster."

"Ah, that's a nice name."

"Thanks, I picked it myself."

Charmcaster struggled to find what she could do in this situation. She saw no need to interact or talk with other people of this realm. All her life, it was always a scheme or a plot in her quest to overthrow her father's killer and reclaim her birthright of Legerdomain. Everything had been done to bring back her father, yet even that was ashes. The only people she talked to were the ones who kept getting in her way or manipulated her for their own ends. She burned any sense of normalcy with her uncle when she had turned the tables on him and used him for her own schemes. Deception, manipulation, and powerplays were her bread and butter. But the act didn't bring her joy or satisfaction. Where she had expected anger or rage at her betrayal, there was only hurt and disappointment in his eyes. Like the way, Father looked at her when she brought him back. And here she sat, stuck in a van relying on the help of a simple farmer, and the worst part was how she couldn't handle a basic conversation.

"I like your hair. I've never seen anyone with hair like yours." Caught flat-footed by Carolina's honest compliment, Charmcaster tugged and played with the strands of her hair.

"Oh...um, thank you. I got my father's hair, but it's a nightmare to brush."

"You're telling me. I got a sister-in-law who works with me, and she got hair that reaches all the way to her ankles. She refuses to cut her hair for some silly reason, and you can imagine the smell by the end of the day." Carolina scrunched her nose up, and Charmcaster giggled, trying to visualise it.

"Tell me she at least washes it."

"She better; otherwise, this whole van would smell a lot worse than it is."

The rest of the ride drifted off into comfortable conversation as the two traded compliments and stories, with Carolina carrying the bulk of the conversation.

They stopped at a motel for the night. In its heyday, it might have been a lively place in the 60s, but now, with all the bleached walls and faded signs, it's a shell of its former glory. The night clerk looked like he had been there for its grand opening as he mumbled in a thick accent to Carolina, who nodded at him.

"So that fancy outfit of yours, is it cosplay or part of your act?" Carolina said, taking the key from the clerk as they walked to their motel room.

"If you must know, this outfit is crafted from the finest—" She stopped herself as Carolina looked at her expectantly, the key in the lock. She couldn't exactly say that her coat was threaded from the Kystallian Silkworms of Legerdomain nor that her bodysuit underneath it was a painstaking runic matrix weaved into the most mana-sensitive material she could get her hands on. So she settled for less. "Spandex. From Virginia."

"Spandex!?" Sounding impressed, Carolina chuckled as she opened the door to their temporary abode. "From Virginia too! Wow, that's some fancy material."

Charmcaster was crazy, but she wasn't stupid. She could tell when sarcasm was sarcasm.

"Har-har, laugh it up."

"I'm just kidding. Those are some nice threads but not my style and especially not out here."

Charmcaster didn't know what it was about their room that inspired the colour brown, but nausea and disgust slammed into her at the state of the room. It was drab, the wallpaper peeled and cracked in places and patches of dried stains that Charmcaster did not want to know the origins of. The stench of dust, mould and cheap one-night stands permeated the room.

"WHOO!" Carolina dived on top of one of the beds. "Oh, finally, a nice bed to lie in."

"You can't be serious." A mortified Charmcaster whispered.

"Come on, it's only one night. It's either this or the van, and I know I like my van, but this cutie patootie needs her R&R."

Charmcaster's face went from cringing to crestfallen as she resigned herself to her likely Hepatitis-ridden bed.

"What's this for?"

"Well, I imagine that outfit must be very hot for you, so something cooler and more fashionable."

She sighed, looking at the cheap clothes in her hand, but it was much better than what she had on as it was essentially useless without her Magic constantly powering them. How did she go from the ruler of a dimension made of Magic to a poor pauper? She would never know. No, she did. She was aware of it, but that was a reminder she didn't need right now. So she slept in the hand-me-down pyjamas in a squeaky motel bed with a bubbly farm girl, and she thought she'd hate it all. She did hate some things, but the other parts weren't so bad. It was… nice.

Carolina shook her awake, big, green eyes staring at her with concern.

"W-what?" Charmcaster muttered; her body heaved and seized as she sucked in the musty air.

"Jesus, girl, you scared the heck out of me, you okay?" Charmcaster tried to protest that she was fine, but Carolina gingerly grasped her hands and looked at her bloody fingernails. Charmcaster averted her gaze in shame. She was weak. She had shown weakness in front of this stranger.

"Poor girl, let me get the first-aid kit in the van; that looks nasty." Charmcaster nodded, staring at her blood-soaked hands. Her eyebrows drew together, the thundering in her chest subsiding to a sombre calm.

Carolina zipped through the door with the kit as she began dressing the wound.

"Why?" Charmcaster stammered as Carolina focused on her hands.

"Why what?" She answered, pressing the bandage over Charmcaster's palm and over the back of her hand.

"Why are you helping me?"

Carolina paused, tilting her head up as she gazed into Charmcaster's eyes, her brows furrowing with lips pursed. "Because you were screaming something awful in your sleep."

"Oh."

Her nightmares had followed her from the desert. She'd thought time and distance would give her space and respite, yet they always came like clockwork. They always came.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Carolina whispered to her as she finished with the bandages. Charmcaster withdrew her hands, bobbing her head left and right, not meeting her eyes. Everything was still alien, from the motel to the mundane and Carolina's kindness. She wasn't ready to spill her heart out yet.

"I see." Carolina nodded, rising from the bed. A bandaged hand clasped her hand.

"Thank you," Charmcaster mumbled, and a reassuring squeeze from Carolina was all that was needed.

The early morning had been a silent affair for both of them after her episode. Charmcaster refused to talk about it, and Carolina respected her space. She stripped herself of her nightwear, carefully folding them and wrapping them back in the bag that Carolina had given her. Her fingers brushed against the old fabric and the power it evoked before stuffing that feeling inside her again. No, she didn't have that power anymore. She studied the new clothes hanging precariously atop the bathroom sink and sighed.

Carolina drummed her fingers on the dashboard with no particular beat in mind. She yawned into her hand before she sipped her cup of stale coffee and gagged. She tossed the contents out the window. The caffeine did nothing to wake her, but the taste certainly did. The door groaned, and the van wobbled with the weight of the new passenger as she tossed her bag into the back seat.

Carolina whistled. Charmcaster's stark white hair had been tied up into a messy ponytail, the one size too big plaid shirt hanging loosely on one side from her shoulder, the faded blue jeans fitting nicely with the mid-calf leather boots.

"Nice outfit; whoever gave that to you must have great taste." She didn't laugh at the joke, but it got a smile out of her. If they were to stand side by side, it was almost like they were siblings sans the hair colour. She felt normal.

And she needed that.

Thankfully, the rest of the trip to Cancun had been more lighthearted. Carolina had been an affable person to talk to and cast her mind away from everything else about her life.

They'd soon arrived at the sunny destination, the beat-up little van chugging its way there, and Carolina whooped, cheering at her old gal for making it in one piece.

"Ah, knew you could do it." She slapped the dashboard with glee.

"Thanks for driving me all the way here." Charmcaster bowed her head, fidgeting in her seat as their short time together had ended. And Charmcaster didn't like that. She'd miss her. She'd miss the smell of moist eggs and faded air fresheners, Carolina's bubbly yet easygoing personality and their talks. She'd miss those little gestures of comfort and camaraderie.

Carolina leaned over, enveloping her in a hug.

Charmcaster froze, eyes wide, as her arms hung limply by her side before she returned the hug.

"It's no problem, and besides, I got to have a little company on this trip of mine," Carolina whispered, rubbing gentle circles on her back, and Charmcaster's eyes got misty as she trembled.

"I don't know how to repay you."

"Just do me a favour and pay it forward."

Caroline's mouth hung open. A request that was so unfathomably simple yet so alien to hear. It was such a foolish notion. There were always deals where people would backstab each other or come out with mutual benefits, but this woman was… trusting her on blind faith to do the same for someone else.

"I'll try." She promised.

"That's all I ask." Charmcaster got out of the van, bag slung over her shoulder, as Carolina smiled at her.

"Goodbye, Carolina."

"Hey, no goodbyes! Just a see you later from you, ya hear? Party hard for me!" Carolina laughed, her van roaring to life as it chugged out of sight.

"See you later…Carolina." Charmcaster smiled, waving at the woman as she stood in the heart of hospitality with no goal or direction in mind except maybe to take up her advice.

"I do like parties."

Charmcaster wandered through the city, unsure where she could go about finding a place to sleep, let alone go to a party. She rubbed her temple, fanning herself from the heat. An adolescent boy plodded along the footpath before tripping his own feet and crashing into her.

"Hey!" Charmcaster cried out as the boy pressed down on her to get back up. He held his hands up in surrender.

"Sorry, señorita!" He apologised, waving at her before he strolled away. Charmcaster mumbled about inconsiderate kids before looking at her open bag to see her money gone.

"Hey! Get back here!" She tossed her bag to an elderly man in a red floral Hawaiian shirt and a bucket hat. "Hold this for me."

She sprinted after the little thief, darting across roads, dodging cars and racing through alleyways; her annoyance at being robbed fueled her. However, tenacity and rage could only do so much in the concrete jungle she was in, where every sign was foreign to her, and the labyrinthine roads served to entrap her in its maze.

It was a miracle that she still had the boy in her sights as he scurried atop a chain fence onto the other side, sprinting for a little hole in the wall at the end. She pumped her legs, stomping the ground as she cleared the fence in one leap. She stumbled over herself, crashing against a wall, amazed at where all this strength was coming from before taking off after him.

The boy glanced behind him, eyes wide, before diving for the small hole, Caroline's fingers grazing his pant leg. She slapped the ground in frustration.

"Sorry, scary señorita, but I really need this." The boy waved as he ran off.

"Little shit!"

She dusted her hands off and sighed. So much for the money that Carolina gave her.

She turned around and found that chasing after a boy who had her money was probably not the best idea in an unknown city. And she left her bag with the old man.

Great.

The old man with her bag came half-running, half jogging up to the fence, chest heaving and wheezing as he reached her. Maybe someone was looking out for her.

"Kids, these days, are always in a rush to get to somewhere." The old man panted, hand on his knee as he slipped the bag off.

"Sorry for making you run out here," Caroline said, apologising to him as she realised that there was no way for him to get over.

"Ah, a little cardio never hurt this old-timer," He waved his hand over the chain fence, and it vanished as if it never existed. Caroline blinked once, then twice. He just did Magic. He performed real Magic in front of her. "Now, you have been tricky to pin down, but nothing a geezer like me can't do."

"Who are you?"

"Would you like to see a real magic trick?" The old man pulled out a deck of cards with a toothy smile, holding it up to her. "Pick a card, any card!

Tacky clothes, a little wispy beard and a penchant for cheap tricks, this man terrified her because she knew that standing before her was the greatest sorcerer that ever lived. "You're Bezel!"

"Indeed I am, little lady, and you surprise me," Shuffling his little deck of cards before he flicked one from her deck, he showed an ace of spades. "I'm a real ace when it comes to intuition and finding people who don't want to be found. So I am here at the request of one Gwendolyn Tennyson to find you."

Fear lanced through her heart, her palms sweating as the hairs on her neck raised themselves. But that would be all for nought before this man. Yet, she had to try. She was never going back in that bag.

"But, that's no fun at all, is it? The direct way, bah! How about we look at what our little scamp ran off to?" he slapped his hands together, and a mirror portal appeared before them, showing the thief she was chasing standing in a garage before a tattooed man in a stained singlet.

"I got you money, sir." The boy handed over the notes to the man who snatched them. He began counting the bills before frowning.

"Oh, Pablo, why are you so out of breath? Why did you come back with two hundred?" The man growled, clapping a hand on the boy's shoulder, who flinched. "And why the fuck do I hear sirens?"

"A scary lady was chasing me, and she—," He started.

"I don't care, Pablo, if scary ladies or fucking aliens from outer space come after you, when I say come back to me without any heat and bring me five hundred," He slapped the boy across the cheek, knocking him down to the ground.

Caroline's breath caught in her throat as she raised her hands up to the portal. This was all too familiar for her as her body shook. "No."

Bezel observed her from the side, and she knew he was watching, but she didn't care. A poor kid was going through what no one child should.

The man crouched to where Pablo was lying. "You fucking come back with no heat and five hundred."

"I'm sorry, tío!" The boy whimpered, bringing his hands up to defend himself.

"No, I'm sorry that your whore of a mother never taught you how to count properly." The man sighed, grabbing a fist full of his hair and dragging the screaming boy up. "I will have to teach you again. Maybe this time you'll learn."

Caroline slammed her fists against the mirror portal. "No, no, no! Let me through!"

"Are you sure about that? He did steal your money, after all. Left you with nothing in a place you don't know." Bezel shrugged. "If you leave now, I'll give you a head start to run away and maybe try to catch you; I probably won't try. Or you can help the boy, and Gwendolyn will most certainly know where you are."

Caroline bit her lip, her hands pushing away from the mirror as she watched the scene before her. Before her, she had a chance to flee from this place, to hide elsewhere and try somewhere else, or she could leave the poor boy to his fate.

The man pushed Pablo up to a wall, raising him as he cocked his fist back. "So you came here with two hundred when you're supposed to be here with five. Now, let's start subtracting."

Pablo shut his eyes, bracing himself for the pain. When none came, he opened his eyes to see Caroline standing behind his uncle.

"How about I count? One." Caroline's eyes blazed with unrestrained fury as she buried her fist in the man's jaw. He tumbled, crashing into a crate.

Never in her life had Caroline punched anyone, so she was unprepared for her knuckles to bloom and sprout with pain.

"Fuck, that hurt!" Caroline hissed, cradling her hand as the man got up, rubbed his jaw and grabbed a socket wrench lying nearby.

"Is this the little puta you were talking about, Pablo? You didn't tell me she was a fighter too." The man spat a glob of blood to the side, his teeth stained red. He rushed forward, his arm slicing through the air with his wrench. Yet, he moved remarkably slow in her eyes as she weaved out of the way, landing a jab into the same part of his jaw.

"Two." The man growled, wildly swinging his wrench at her.

Pablo watched as Caroline ducked, weaved and bobbed out of his attacks. His uncle's attacks were hitting nothing but steel beams and air.

"Three," Caroline called out, a devastating right hook to the other side of the man's jaw, breaking it and knocking him out.

The man slumped in a boneless, pained heap as Caroline's hands shook from the rush of pain and adrenaline that coursed through her.

"Hey Pablo, right?" She called out as she picked up her stolen money, and Pablo flinched at her tone. "I'm not gonna hurt you. Come here."

Pablo shuffled over to her, keeping his head down as she stood over him.

"Open up your hand." Pablo did as he was told and felt the raised bumps and ridges of American money in his hand. "Take this money and go somewhere safe, okay?"

"What about you?"

"Don't worry about me, kid. I'll find someplace else." She said, turning away from him.

"Señorita, if you have no place to stay, find the bar called Abuela's; I'll make sure they'll take care of you if you do come." Pablo stared at his unconscious uncle, kicking him in the leg.

"Thanks, but I don't think I'll see this bar of yours."

"Why's that, señorita?" He looked up to find that the garage was empty.

"Well, well, well, so you chose to help the boy instead of helping yourself," Bezel said, a drink in one hand with a ridiculous swirly straw in it as he tapped his fingers on the wooden bar top.

On Caroline's side of the table, a fruity drink with a lovely umbrella sat untouched as she crossed her arms over herself. She'd made her choice. And if she at least did one good thing in her life, without any reward, it would be saving that kid's life.

"Let's not stand on ceremony here, Bezel. Let Gwendolyn know where I am already and get this over with." She said, bitterness in her voice.

"Already did." Bezel said easily. "I told her that 'Charmcaster has not left this mortal realm nor has she gone back to Legerdomain', and that's that."

Caroline's heartbeat dropped, then jumped hearing that. Indeed, he couldn't've just lied to her?

"You lied."

"Now, little Miss Caroline, I did no such thing. I simply said that you weren't dead or that you've left this dimension. All perfectly valid explanations on where you aren't. You understand what this means, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Now, I'm sure you've noticed Gwendolyn put a sealing rune on your person, am I correct?"

"Yes." Caroline bit out at the reminder. "Can you remove it?"

"I could, but I'm giving both you and her the same deal. I will not directly help you at all. Besides, I haven't forgotten how you trapped me as your totem nor how you were so easily fooled by a little sleight of hand."

Caroline huffed; this was so unfair. Her defeated by fucking street magic of all things!? He was rubbing her most humiliating defeat in her face.

"I'm sure this is very amusing for you, Bezel."

"Oh, it's not amusing, it's quite hilarious, but we'll save that for another time," Bezel sipped from his drink, the ice clinking together as his eyes hardened. "I'm sure you've noticed that your body is much stronger than before. Keeping pace with an agile boy despite having no physical training whatsoever, leaping across tall chain fences or moving faster than you thought possible.

"Now, isn't that fascinating? You can't use Magic externally; well, you can, but it's like pushing a boulder up a hill. Certainly not impossible but very taxing as you've no doubt felt. Magic circulating internally inside of you is a different story. Makes you feel like a superhuman."

How could Caroline forget that this was the lowest of the low she had ever been, perhaps worse than Juvenile hall. But the rush she felt when she pulled all those things off before. That smidgen of power was enough to feel like she was back in control again. Caroline thought back to all those moments before, and though she couldn't manipulate and bend reality to her whims, she was fitter, stronger.

"Curious little thing, isn't it? Magic. No rules, no boundaries on what it can do. Yet, there are a few exceptions that Magic will take a stance to. Like names and identities, isn't that right, Hope?"

Caroline's heart hammered in her chest again, a bead of sweat dripping down her face as every nerve in her body pricked and tingled. The temperature in that room plummeted as if the sun and wind had no place there and there was only them.

"H-How do you know?"

Bezel smiled a dangerous smile that belied the true nature of the man who came off as a silly sorcerer who had a penchant for the mundane. This man was touted as the Father of Magic, who created the Charms of Bezel that made an ordinary girl a god. Someone who could've obliterated an upstart like her at any moment he wished. When she'd first summoned him by channelling the powers of other great sorcerers to her and invoking his name, she'd thought herself powerful; That she'd be a match for him when he came twirling in that library.

After all, names have power.

But no, he was humouring her. Sure, every magic-user worth their salt knew Bezel's name, but they couldn't do much when his mastery over Magic made the point moot. Bezel was the exception among exceptions.

She was not. And the fact that he wielded her name terrified her to no end.

"A magician never reveals his secrets." He said simply, his tone conveying that he would say no more on it and that she best ask no more of it. "Right now, you haven't even thought of yourself as Charmcaster. You're sticking to this new identity you've crafted for yourself. It's fledgling and new, but you've made a significant choice in anchoring that identity today. By choosing to do something selfless."

"I'm just taking advice from a friend, nothing more."

"Yet you still chose to listen to it." Bezel finished the rest of his drink, standing up from the table. He tossed a little token her way, and she caught it in her hand.

"A little new charm I've cooked up, the Charm of Illusion. Imagine your new appearance and wa-lah, that's what you will look like until you decide to reveal yourself."

"Now, I'll take my leave, lots to do and see. There's a magic convention that I don't want to miss out on."

"And what about me?"

"Well, that's something you'll have to figure out for yourself, isn't it?" Bezel waved goodbye, leaving through the door before he stopped. "Try the Piña Colada."

"Piña Colada?"

By then, Bezel had disappeared, and Caroline took a tentative sip from the drink. The drink was cold, and fruity, and she could taste coconut and pineapple. It was good. It was excellent.

"This is delicious!"

Pablo sipped on his juice, the fan in Abuela's spinning lazily as Sofia fussed over him, dabbing an alcohol-soaked cotton on his cheek. He hissed as Abuelita muttered curses underneath her breath at sorry, no-good uncles. Thankfully, Pablo wouldn't have to go back to his uncle anymore. He liked being at Abuela's. It was nice, much better than his old home. It didn't stink of stale cigarettes and mouldy wallpaper. Now, it reeked of fresh cigarettes and paella.

The wooden doors squeaked as they swung open, and all eyes in the bar turned to the newcomer.

She was white. Pale-white skin, blonde hair with strands of it held back by a pair of aviators. Her shoulders and belly were bare, except she wore a white cotton top tied at the bottom and Blue denim shorts with a shiny belt. In her hand was a small leather bag that she set down on the bar table. She looked like one of the American celebrities like Jennifer Nocturne or Jennifer Lawrence. Maybe she was a Jennifer too.

"Ah, a customer. Please, sientate, sientate!" Abuelita rushed over to her, pushing her to sit down on the chairs.

"Welcome to my humble establishment. I'm Sofia, but everyone calls me Abuelita." Abuelita shook the American's hand enthusiastically. "What would you like to drink, darling?"

"I'm getting really fond of this new drink I had." She snapped her fingers a couple of times, trying to jog her memory. "Piña Colada?"

"Ooh, like the song!"

"Like the song."

Pablo stared at the American woman; an odd sense of familiarity washed over him as he squinted at her.

"If a breeze comes through, your eyes will stay like that forever, you know?" Pablo jumped in his seat, the woman's back still towards him.

"How'd you know I was staring at you?"

A sharp exhale from her nose before she giggled. "Magic."

"I'm Pablo, señorita."

"Caroline." She looked around the bar for a moment before her eyes flashed orchid. "But friends call me Carol."

And then his smile faded, and Carol was again rushing away from Ben Tennyson in tears.

"You fucked up."

Ben nursed the bag of ice over his eye and ignored the stinging indictment against his character, which he really had no defence against. The sledgehammers battered a symphony inside his skull lessened as he forced himself from the sofa to squint at Eddie, prim and proper in that four-piece suit.

"First, yes; second, why aren't you hungover?" He rubbed the side of his head to stop the throbbing that was building into a migraine.

Eddie brought a cup of coffee to his lips, taking a slow sip before putting it back down on his saucer. "Experience, I know how to have fun, but not too much fun that I need a day to recover."

"Yeah, well, I gotta figure out what her deal is and make sure that she's not planning anything nefarious."

"How about being diplomatic?"

"Trust me, if you knew who Caroline really was, diplomatic is the furthest thing you can get with her. She's a shoot first and never ask questions type."

"You don't know that."

"Trust me, I do."

"No, you don't. You two might have history with each other. And from your phrasing, I'm betting she was probably a bad guy you fought." Eddie rubbed the bridge of his nose before taking a sip from his cup. "But that doesn't excuse your behaviour towards her."

"But she's a bad guy, girl, ow!" Ben shouted and flinched, the ringing in his ears too loud for his liking.

"Maybe she is, but that's not an excuse to hurt her feelings."

"Eddie—"He raised his hand up to stop Ben from continuing, drinking the rest of his coffee before he set it back down again. The open breeze shuffled in to cool the rising tension in Ben as Eddie leaned forward.

"Let's say, hypothetically, that you two didn't know who the other actually was before this morning. Could you honestly say that you two didn't have fun last night?"

Ben bit his lip as he tossed the ice bag on the tabletop, half-melted and leaning over the edge. His expression shifted from pained to resigned as he thought about his answer. Barring this morning, everything had been great; it was the most fun he had going on a date since… oh wow, this was the best date he's ever been on.

"No." He admitted.

"At any point, did she do anything that gave you cause for concern?"

"No."

"Was she a normal person you'd love to hang out with or go on more dates after yesterday?"

"That could've been all a ploy to get my guard down."

"She literally didn't know who you were until this morning. Now stop dodging and answer."

"I guess, maybe… probably… I wouldn't mind dating Caroline." Ben noted the sharp, bitter taste on his tongue came not from the hard liquor that had stewed and sloshed in his mouth overnight, nor was it from his barely touched coffee cup but from the truth.

"Glad we got that out of the way. So she's a normal girl who you just acknowledged you wouldn't mind dating, and you basically said some very nasty things that insulted her character and her relationships."

"Yes."

The two stared at each other. The bag of melted ice fell to the floor.

SCHOOP!

"Dude…"

"Fine! Fine! I was a jerk, and I shouldn't have said any of that!"

"I'm not Caroline, am I?"

"Right, she stormed off. I need to go find her."

"Wait! Before you go, Ben, I need to talk to you about a certain problem I'm having."

"If it persists more than three hours, contact your local—"

"An alien problem."

"I'm listening."


I'd like to thank the many inspiring people in the Snippets Uncensored discord, namely Chaosdrifting, sunshowersy, SnivyAlchemist, ktbl, and delicatefade. You've been helpful in helping me improve as an author and I would not be here without your help and guidance. May you be blessed with many dog kisses.