Hello reader! It has now been 5 years since I first created this fic. And yes, I do think it's terribly showing of how bad my posting schedule is.

When I first began writing this I was a senior in high school. I had no idea what college was like, nor did I realize how chaotic my schedule would become because of it. Since then I have changed my major and began working full time and taking on a full time class load each semester. I can't tell you how many times I would begin writing a chapter only to take an entire month to reread and revise what I had previously written.

I decided long ago that if I was unsatisfied with what I wrote, I wouldn't release it. But that's also the perfectionist in me that prevented me from progressive further in the story.

Even with a busy schedule, I have worked on this when I can. So, all of this was just to say thank you. I still have more I want to write on this, so just be patient with me. Thank you for taking the time to read this little side project of mine. Enjoy!


POV: Bonnibel

Friday, May 4th

"Will you really be okay by yourself?" Marceline asked for what seemed like the millionth time. She was packed with a simple black suitcase and her upright bass, both in hand as I dragged her from our bedroom into the living room by her flannel sleeve.

"Yes," I huffed, pushing her toward the door. "I broke my wrist, not my common sense. I'm perfectly able to take care of myself."

Digging her heels deeper into our plush carpet flooring, she turned to show me a look of distaste. She cocked her head to one side, exposing her appetizingly tanned neck. "No need to get snippy, I'm just trying to make sure you're taken care of. Ya know, like a good girlfriend should."

I sighed, biting the edge of my lip in frustration. "And I think it's very sweet of you." I kissed her cheek before tugging on her arm. "Now move it. They'll leave you behind."

She stopped me once again, continuing this back and forth battle. "Will you at least have Rain stay with you for the weekend? It would make me feel better if-" Clasping my good hand over her mouth, I shushed Marceline who knitted her eyebrows in response. The beginnings of her usual frustrated glare formed from behind my hand. Yes, I knew this look all too well.

"It's not like I'm going to go wandering alone in the dead of night. Seriously, Marceline. All I do is work or study. The only prancing around I do is with you." Regardless of if I was able to work or not, it's not like I could get myself into much trouble-being wounded and all. Plus, I was still taking a medical leave from work. The only way I could possibly overextend myself with would be lab work, but even my professor had reduced the number of hours I was allowed to put in over the next several weeks.

Her eyebrows furrowed further as I freed her. "Don't push yourself too hard. And set an alarm to take your medicine. I can't call you every 6 hours to remind you-"

"Stop making me push you out the door. You're going to miss your ride." I left a peck on her lips and then gave her a final shove out onto the porch. "Call me when you get to the hotel."

"You know...you could always come with-"

I interrupted her with, "Bye, Marceline."

She left me with her famous combo, a flirty wink and a devilishly suggestive smirk. "Try not to miss me too much, princess."

"You wish."

I closed the door, making sure she couldn't storm back in with the brilliant idea of having me sit through 6 hours of driving and a weekend of jazz. Listening to Marceline was always nice. My lack of knowledge in the music department doesn't give me much validity, but even I could see how beautiful and elegant her techniques were. That being said, listening to constant jazz for two straight days would be the equivalent of being stuck in an elevator.

Regardless, Marceline was required to attend a jazz workshop and performance-unless she wanted some serious repercussions-like taking the class over again or even having her scholarship taken away. Yes, money wouldn't be an issue for too much longer, but the sound of moving back on campus was obviously less than ideal.

The dorm fees and mandatory meal plans were a pain in the ass as it was, the strict rules and guidelines only topped it off. We had the sweet taste of freedom and could no longer go back.

I plopped on the couch in my usual spot, taking my phone out with the intent to call Rain, only to procrastinate by scrolling through social media for an hour. Or two...


You know how I said something along the lines of, 'it's not like I could get into much trouble'? Well, somehow I was dragged into what Rain called a "get together". I should have known by her underlying tone that it would be another frat party. Even Marceline could have seen this one coming.

I can be a little too naive at times.

Unlike the Delta Chi party at the beginning of the previous semester, it wasn't nearly as packed. And the atmosphere didn't smell of weed and an abundance of freshman lust. Only booze and normal amounts of lust. Even from the front steps of the building, the music could be heard blaring from the other side-enough for a noise complaint.

Rain was already expecting the more than unsatisfied look I was shooting her way as we walked in. "Okay okay, I know what you're going to say," She began with an apologetic wince.

"And that is?"

"I know I lied," she started, "but come on, Bon! It's the Friday after finals week. We can let loose after a stressful, hellish week."

"I can't drink with pain meds."

"Then take extra pain meds?" I threw my arms over my chest in a huff. "No, sorry. Bad idea." She corrected herself.

Since the day I met her, I saw upfront how ambitious and outgoing Rain was. I saw her drive and her kindness. Albeit by force, she adopted me into her friend group. Her intentions always came from a place of love and inclusion. She would be the first to notice when you walk in the room, the first to lend a helpful hand, or a shoulder to cry on. She was an ideal friend.

Her biggest flaw was how forefront her id was. It was as if her body and brain rejected the concept of impulse control entirely, especially when it came to partying.

"I didn't sign up for this." I reminded her.

"I know. That's why I invited Jake." I gaped at her, knowing full well that she would leave me in the midst of the lustful atmosphere. "And Finn!" She yelled as I hit her harder.

"You invited an underaged boy to a party?"

"He drank on New Years-"

"That doesn't make it okay!"

Rain caught my arm when I attempted to hit her again. "You're so violent on meds. You're like a little puppy tearing up a pair of new shoes." I pouted at her comment and tore my hands away. The pain meds really weren't that strong...probably.

"I'll have Finn walk me home. We'll just hang out there until you decide to join us."

"Are you going home already?" A slurred, yet familiar voice shouted above the music. I didn't have to turn to know exactly who was behind me. I heavy arm swung itself around my neck and drug me half a foot toward the ground. The oh so wonderful Lillian Price was exactly that much shorter. And just as I had remembered, Lillian continued to wear an abhorrent amount of lipstick onto her large pulp lips. "You never change, do you?" She practically cackled.

I could distinctly locate the sharp smell of rum seeping off her cherry red lips.

"I can't drink with a broken arm." I repeated, shooting a glance at my much taller friend who was currently attempting to back away and leave. "I'm just here to pick up Finn."

"Jake's brother?" She questioned with, what seemed like, the stupidest expression she could muster up. I gave a nod. "Oh, I know where he is." Lillian's arm continued to weigh me down as she threw an arm in the opposite direction toward the back gate of the house. With the utmost finesse she drolled on, "He's been bummin' me out alllll night. This is the place to get un-sad. Like...drink a lil'-ya knah?"

Her dumbfounded expression and lack of words fumbling out of her mouth told me she was waiting for a response.

"Yeah, sure. In the backyard, right?"

"That's what I said!" She practically squealed.

Attempting not to wince at her yelling directly into my ear, I thanked her with, "I appreciate it," and pulled myself out of her grip.

She clocked her tongue, gave a wink, and stumbled in with Rain-who was now avoiding my eye contact. I made a mental note to scold her and demand her homemade crepes as her way of vindicating this situation.

Then it was just me in the front yard. I had to admit, it left me with a very empty feeling realizing I couldn't ask Marceline to save me or walk me home as I had the previous semester. Even if she were moping and making fun at my expense, as per usual, I still wanted her here.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and typed out a phrase, knowing full well the possible ego trip it may give Marceline as I sent: 'I miss you'

I waited a moment to see the '...' message bubble appear, but to no avail.

Sighing, I made my way toward the direction of the gate Lillian had pointed to earlier. My footfalls were silent on the soft grass, not that I would be able to hear the beauty of such an action, as the backyard was full of chatter. Opening the gate revealed many strangers. One group in particular laughing obnoxiously and drunkenly, I might add. One couple talked amongst themselves near the porch and there, two inches from my right, was Finn.

He looked up at me, questioningly. "Uh, hey." He greeted.

"Hey," I greeted back, with a wave of my hand. "Why don't we hang out at my place?" Finn continued to give me a questioning look. "I don't think it's appropriate for an underaged boy to indulge in these sorts of activities, even if you turned eighteen. Your brain isn't technically fully developed until..." I cut myself off, not really in the mood to explain my reasoning. "I'll order us take out food and we can watch whatever you like."

"You sure?"

"Of course," I extended a hand toward him. He gladly took it, though he didn't need any help up. When he was close enough now to see in detail, I began noticing the solemn expression Lillian elegantly explained previously. Dark circles and puffy swollen eyes gave away his grief. "Are you okay?"

"Bad break up," was his simple answer. "And I really don't want to hear the million fish in the sea line." He laughed at himself, seemingly forced.

"I wouldn't use such cliche lines on you anyways." I teased with a smile. From what I could tell, it eased his glum tone. "We don't have to talk about the breakup if you don't want to."

"Thanks, p-bubs."

Thanks to Marceline, our 'new' residents was only a fifteen minute walk from campus. Down the strip, after passing my workplace, turn left into the neighborhood and a block down was our two bedroom home.

"Have you been here before?" I asked after unlocking the front door.

"I haven't."

I felt bad for not giving enough attention to him in previous encounters. He was part of our friend group after all. "Ah, I'm sorry. I should have invited you over sooner." Though, in my defense, the only people who came over regularly are Keila and Rain. And even then, it was only once or twice during the week. "It's not anything big, but it was better than having noisy apartment neighbors."

"Yeah, Marceline picked a good place."

It suddenly felt awkward. The normally warm atmosphere of the home felt stale and still.

"Well, sit down and feel free to find us something to watch. I'll order a pizza."

"Cool with me."

We ended up watching the old scream movie. In comparison to the CGI and other effects we have now, it seemed cheesy enough to laugh at. I even caught Finn laughing to himself a few times at the predictable jumpscares.

I checked my phone between scenes. Seems the only messages I was getting were from social media platforms letting me know someone liked a post. Nothing from Marceline. I slid my phone back in my pocket, praying I would get a response soon.

The movie ended at 12:03 PM. Still no messages from Marceline. Still nothing from Rain or Jake.

I suddenly remembered Marceline's pack of cigarettes in the kitchen junk drawer. Usually I wouldn't indulge myself, but I felt more anxious than I was anticipating. My stomach felt upset and I began fidgeting with my fingers, the hem of my shirt, my lips, my hair.

Finn beat me to the punch. "Mind if I go out for a smoke?"

"I didn't know you smoked."

"I don't." He admitted.

I decided not to question him further and indulged him instead. "I'll join you."

Unlike Ohio's somewhat humid atmosphere, the California night was dry and airy. The dark sky was still starless, even on a clear night like tonight. I pouted and took out a cigarette from the half-empty box, lighting it while in between my lips. After a few tries, it lit.

Marceline wasn't one to smoke often, but did in times of stressful situations. By now the whole world knew just how harmful the effects were, so I felt no need to remind her of them. I instead chose to sit with her and take in the second hand smoke, as if sharing her pain with her.

Up until now, I had no desire to do so. Yet I found myself taking a small puff of nicotine. Dry. As if clenching and rejecting it, my throat constricted and hitched itself. I couldn't hide the dry cough that came next.

Finn laughed as I put it out, stifling my continuous cough as I did so. I didn't know how Marceline could stomach it.

"Do you think I've changed?" Finn suddenly asked from beside me. What a heavy question to start with.

I couldn't say I was the most adept in emotional intelligence all the time, but being majored in epidemiology, I thought it smart to minor in both sociology and biology. Sociology told me enough about group mentality and human nature that I was confident enough to psychologically evaluate others in times of need.

For starters, he was much less energetic. Despite going through the depressive phase of a breakup, his dark circles were deep and his eyes wandered even when looking me in the eyes. His shoulders were tense, hair unkept, his gaze solemn, expression vacant.

Ah, I thought. He's depressed. Could I even point that out to him?

"People change, but you're still you."

"Is that bad?" He asked. "To change?"

"Change is part of life." I gave another sharp cough, muttering an apology for ruining the seriousness. "You'll continue to grow and change over the years. It's nothing to be afraid or ashamed of. What matters most is what you decide to do about the changes. Will it build you up or tear you down? And that's an answer you decide for yourself."

"I feel torn down."

"Do you want to stay torn down?"

"No, dude."

"Then don't let it. Grow from it."

"How?"

"Think through your mistakes. Ask yourself, how do I want to learn from this? Will you guard your heart from others or allow the experience to show you what you want in the next relationship?"

"You make it sound so simple."

"It's not always simple, but I think people make it more complicated than it needs to be sometimes." He gave a nod and took a small drag from the cigarette between his fingers. "What's most important is to lean on others when things become too much." He eyed me, questioningly. "If you begin having suicidal thoughts, please tell us."

"Oh...I..." He sighed and hid his face in his hand. "It's not even that bad." He wiped at his eyes angrily. "I just feel lost."

"And that's okay. But you have friends, like me, who support you and want to guide you on a path that makes you happiest. We can't help you if you don't tell us you're lost." A few tears trickled down his cheek, falling onto the back porch rails. "Want a hug?"

He kept averting his eyes, all the while giving a small nod.

I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed him tightly. As my mother always told me, 'it's not a hug if your arms don't hurt after'. He emitted a small grunt before hugging me back with an equal amount of force.

"Ooo," a familiar voice teased. "I'm telling Marceline." I looked from behind me to find Jake and Rain from the porch door, both with wide smiles plastered onto their features.

"Oh whatever," I rolled my eyes. I attempted to distract the two as Finn collected himself. "What took you so long?"

"We took Lillian home." Jake sighed, unhappy. "She threw up everywhere. It was so gross." He gagged at the thought and covered his face, as if hiding from the memory.

"Mind if we crash here for the night?"

"I don't have much in regards to beds," I thought aloud. "but feel free to make yourself at home."

Finn finally turned on his heels to face us. "All I need is a pillow. My bed is practically rock hard anyways so the floor is ideal. Good practice for sleeping outdoors too." Maybe it was the light seeping from the house and reflecting into his eyes, but to me, it was like the light was coming from within his pupils.


"Speak of the devil."

"Talking shit?" Her muffled voice sounded so thin on the other side of the phone.

"Always."

From the noise in the background, I could only conclude she was outside. Possibly at the hotel on a balcony. I imagined the way her ebony hair would flow from the wind, how her oversized pj shirt could easily fit me in, allowing me to share her warmth.

I, on the other hand, had raided her clothes and pulled an old rock shirt from the back of our closet. Her scent clung to it, so I wore that and plush pj shorts. I pulled the shirt fabric over my nose and took a soft whiff.

"Sorry I didn't reply. I ended up falling asleep." That sounded like her. Unlike me, she could sleep anywhere in under ten seconds flat. Once her eyes were closed she was out like a light and almost nothing could wake her up. Not that you'd want to with how grumpy she would be afterward.

"I guess I can forgive you this once."

"So, you 'miss me' huh?" I could practically feel her smirking.

"Ew, no way. I was only giving you an ego boost."

"If you wanted to give me an ego boost all you have to say is that I'm punk."

"But lying is wrong. You're clearly a hipster."

"You're such an asshole."

"I mean I could always hang up."

"You wouldn't. You miss me after all." She was only making me want to retract my previous statement.

"Wanna bet?"

"Okay, okay. I'll play nice."

"Good girl."

"Did you set an alarm for your meds?"

"I..." So that's why I was feeling anxious and moody earlier. I hadn't regulated my pain levels. "I'll do that after this call. How was the ride there?"

"The ride here was fine. Keila kept me company for about thirty minutes before falling asleep."

"I'd fall asleep if I had to talk to you for that long too."

"Obviously not since you moved in with me so easily."

"I figured I might get a worse roommate than you and took my chances."

"As if." Marceline's chuckle on the other end of the line lack it's usual warmth. I wished she could hear it in person, but wouldn't let her know that. The last thing I would want is for her to feel bad and drive six hours by herself.

"Our bickering probably sounds bad from an outside perspective."

"It sounds bad regardless of the perspective."

I couldn't begin to recall the number of times we would bicker in public and attract stares from others around us. We really sucked at containing ourselves from going all out and calling each other God awful names.

"I wish I could watch you play."

"I think Keila's mom is coming to record our set. I can send it to you, if you want."

"Please. Make sure to smile at the camera for me."

"I'll flip off the camera just for you, sweetheart."

"How sweet." I rolled my eyes, not that she would know. Maybe she could feel in through the phone. "How many points would they take off for unprofessionalism?"

"Jazz professionals are usually rough around the edges, so they probably wouldn't care. They might even add on points."

"Don't risk it. I'd hate to move back on campus because you lost your scholarship."

"Aw, you'd join me?"

"No. If you take the risk of flipping me off, I take the risk to find a nicer roommate."

"Ouch, you wound me even from this distance."

"So dramatic." I rolled my eyes again. I forgot how disconnecting it felt to talk to people through the phone. "Go get some sleep, please."

"Yes ma'am." I imagined her sarcastically saluting me.

"Goodnight."

I began to end the call when I heard, "I love you."

This wasn't the first time I had heard her say this. But over the phone, it sounded different. Almost as if it were solidifying our already domesticated relationship.

"I love you too." I didn't mean to speak in such a hushed tone, but it came out that way. I was now very aware of how warm and tough my cheeks felt as I began to blush.

"Goodnight, princess."

I couldn't hold back a small smile. "Goodnight, Marcy."