A/N: I'll be blunt today: I'm not sure how much more I have in me. I love this pair so much, and I love writing them like you wouldn't believe, and I'm so grateful for all the feedback and support and readership and everything. However, it's difficult. This isn't easy, even today proving a massive problem for me in terms of scheduling and getting an actual idea.

I think that I honestly would love to keep writing 1-2k every single day for the rest of time about these two adorable goons, but it's harder than that. I hate coming off like a whiny egotist here with all of this "oh, woe is me" nonsense but I knew from the onset that I'd need to have a healthy stable of requests/prompts before I could continue this. In my infinite wisdom, I decided to start burning through those rather rapidly out of some sort of obligation to make it clear that I use all of these awesome prompts.

Anyways, this is becoming overly long and probably worrisome. I'm not saying the end of the Daily is close at hand, but I'm not taking away options. I just want to make it clear how much of this is a labor of love to the fandom and to these characters (also it's a fun challenge, but shhh).

It's so stupid, and she doesn't even really like the song all that much, but she asks Andy to play it anyways. Then when he gets up on stage and announces the dedication, she gets a weird, almost queasy aching about it. Maybe it's because Ann is right next to her and at the same time it seems so stupid and awesome and a thousand other things, but maybe it's because Ann gives her a perplexed look and asks her something stupid. Either way April answers her blithely, too busy being simultaneously annoyed at her boyfriends and trying to figure out why Andy seemed so cool.

And why she cared at all was another mystery April would eventually have to unravel, but for now she would just be content with the idea of Ann being jealous of something she did. Then April wonders why that's a thought that she has at all – like some kind of reversal, as if April would ever be jealous of someone like Ann – but Andy's looking at her with thinly veiled intent as he sings.

"Just thinking of you," he croons without taking his eyes off of April, "and the way you look tonight."

And, for some reason, that odd rumbling is back and she guesses it's just hunger pains or something. So she has to go get something to eat or else she might just explode either from the spontaneous, uncontrollable smiling or the proximity to Ann.

April doesn't really get the idea behind birthday parties other than this one, the one where she can legally drink in a private establishment. All of it's such a dumb marketing scheme, and she's heard Ron's lectures so many times about this that she's gone to his way of thinking on the things, but there's something a little bit cooler about this one at least for a while. She thinks maybe it's literally only the alcohol. That definitely brought her spirits up, but she can't deny that she's worried when Andy doesn't show up for a bit. But that wears off with a few more shots, and then he gets there and it's kind of all right.

At least until she fucks it up. Well, it wasn't entirely her fault – obviously he started it so it's his fault – but some part, some sickeningly mature part, of April's brain is telling her it's dumb. Everything seems so stupid, all this weird jealously (a word that she hates the feel of so much she can barely think it anymore).

But she has to put up with it, because Andy's already given up and there's no reason to keep worrying about him.

Trying, that's the word she tries to work with. Maybe there was a lot more to be done to get Andy to realize his own feelings than she originally thought. But she doesn't like how the word feels on her, almost like it's expecting her to grow and adapt to him in a way that just doesn't suit April, and so she stops trying.

Then the emptiness hits her, like a blank weight that's got Andy's stupid face plastered all over it, and it's even more bewildering. She doesn't have anything to compare it to – literally nothing in her life has compared to this feeling – so April chalks it up to some stupid adult thing that shouldn't be happening to her. No, April was too good for this withering detachment.

She could totally keep herself from doing at all remotely concerning him. Which is why, naturally, she sleeps with basically any guy that looks at her and makes sure to tell Andy about every single one of them. Because, of course, she's above all of this and she just wants to shove his face in it.

Ron knows a lot about quite a bit of things, and April knows he's usually right when it comes to reading people too, but in this one scenario he's just being an idiot. He doesn't know anything, especially when it came to that crushing thought that maybe she didn't want to leave for Indianapolis just to make Andy sad or angry or whatever his reaction would be. Maybe, somewhere, thinking about that at all was a whole lot more painful than she'd like to let on – but she had to, it was basically the only way she could keep going without admitting that she hated that lonely feeling in her chest.

"Maybe moving to Indianapolis just to get back at Andy's a good idea," Ron shrugs slightly, looking down at his coffee mug before continuing. "What do I know?"

Then she gets that picture – one she keeps only to bring up every once and a while to either her sister or Andy – and that oppressive airiness feels stupid. All it takes is April asking her nicely, and basically giving in to whatever alcohol purchasing demands she has, and then Andy's back in City Hall asking her for more things to do.

She's already made up her mind about not going to Indianapolis, but part of her still has to make a show about it. There's something that's still in self-denial, like Andy's going to disappear in a puff of smoke if they get any sort of closure over this childish back-and-forth, so she scoffs at him and gives him a badly faked look of disbelief. Then he starts talking and when he mentions that he's willing to basically do whatever insanity she can think of just to maybe –possibly, with the tiniest chance of success – get her to stay back, and not even to rethink him just to stay in Pawnee, that illusion breaks so easily.

Even though she made her decision before going to see him, there might have been some bit of April that was worried where his head was in all of this. Weirdly, she's wondering how Andy will act as if she's expecting something of him more than whatever he's capable of.

Luckily for April, Andy's capable of a whole lot more than she's really ever thought possible.