The version of the song that helped inspire this chapter is a cover by Chester See and Alex G.
"But baby there you go again, there you go again, making me love you
Yeah I stopped using my head, using my head, let it all go
Got you stuck on my body, on my body like a tattoo
And now I'm feeling stupid, feeling stupid coming back to you
So I cross my heart and I hope to die
That I'll only stay with you one more night
And I know I said it a million times
But I'll only stay with you one more night."-Maroon 5, "One More Night."
There are moments in life that you will forever remember. You'll know exactly where you were; what it smelled like, what you were wearing. Sometimes, they're world events and other times they're personal. This one just happened to be both.
He's at a gas station off a highway that he's sure has a name, but hasn't bothered to learn. Though, he, at least, knows that he's in California. In one hand, he holds a chilled Diet Coke and, with the other, he's going through the snacks on a shelf by the door.
He's planning to return to his hotel, where he'll eat the food that's not good for him and lay in a bed that makes him miss his own. He'll probably stare at his cell phone and the number that he equally wants to call and wants to delete from his phone's memory.
He remembers snagging a bag of chips from the shelf and turning to discover a magazine that shows Riley hanging on the arm of her fiancé. He snags it and places all of his purchases on the counter, waiting as the cashier rings him up.
"You don't strike me as the kind of person who's into gossip magazines," the young girl, commented, her eyes scanning over the counter.
"You'd be surprised," he offered, sliding his credit card. She gave him a look and he figured that he might as well elaborate, "I'm a photographer."
"You didn't take that picture?" she questioned, looking at him with a new awe. It's an intuitive leap, that he's not sure how she made, but she has an innocence that he hasn't seen on anyone in quite some time. It reminds him of a younger Riley.
"No, but I've taken her picture before," he revealed, wishing she would hand over his receipt, so that he could leave.
"You know Riley?" the girl asked, her mouth dropping open.
"You could say that," he shrugged, relieved, when she finally added the receipt to his bag and handed it over.
"Have a nice day," she offered, though he could tell from the look in her eyes that she wanted to continue the conversation.
He took his purchases to his rental car and shoved them into the passenger's seat, relieved to be getting out of the heat. He turns the key in the ignition, his face instantly being blasted with hot air and is just getting ready to pull out of his spot, when the radio comes on.
"And in breaking news, we've just learned that model and previous wife of actor Kyle Breckett, Maya Hart has been rushed to the hospital in critical condition. There hasn't been an official statement made, however, there are photographs of Maya being lifted into an ambulance. You can find those on our website and we'll be updating you on any developments, as we receive them."
He sits frozen in his seat as they move onto a new piece of news, but everything around him has seemed to have gone mute. He grabs his cell phone and dials the first favorite contact in his phone, waiting as it rings.
"If I'm not answering, I've probably lost my phone….again. Call my assistant and she'll be a lot better about getting back to you," Maya's voice suggested, before the beep pierced his ears that signaled he should leave a message.
He hung it up, his hands shaking, as he tried to decide who to call next.
He's not sure how long he sits there before his phone starts vibrating and he looks down, hoping that it's Maya calling him back to laugh about the latest thing the tabloids have gotten wrong. However, one look at the number and ice settles over his heart.
"How bad is it?"
"Ava was just called in to the hospital to go over Maya's living will," Auggie informed him, "I think you'd better get out here, as soon as you can."
"Savannah?" Josh asked, struggling to get his thoughts into a logical order.
"If anything happens to Maya, Riley takes over custody. She's the only one that's going to be able to get to Savannah. James called me a couple of minutes ago to let me know that she's taking a private jet and she'll be here in the next twelve hours," Auggie listed, the sound of a door slamming in the background.
"I'm going to head to the airport and I'll be there as soon as I can," Josh promised, hanging up the phone, before he peeled out of his parking space and onto the highway.
He's in the ice business. At least, that's how she would jokingly introduce him to her entourage of A-listers and herd of assistants. He'd never understood it, until she'd finally explained it to him.
There's something about taking a picture of a person. It's like capturing their essence for a moment in time and revealing a glimpse into who they really are, who they'll forever be to anyone who takes the time to study the photograph.
That's what had started him on this pathway. It was after his father had died from a massive stroke and he'd come home from the hospital, exhausted and devastated. His mother had closed herself in the room that she'd shared for decades with his father and he'd sat down at the table with a book of photographs and looked at the memories that captured his family whole. The future couldn't change those moments in the pictures, couldn't make the smiles turn to frowns, or weigh them down with the knowledge of what was to come.
"This is Joshua Mathews, he's in ice," Maya offered, her smile catching him off-guard with its sincerity.
"Like the frozen water or your view of him?" the man on her arm, clarified, a dimple in his cheek sticking out as he looked at Maya, as though she were the center of his universe.
"Neither," she replied, "He freezes people in time. This is Kyle," Maya returned her attention to Josh.
"I don't live in a cave, Maya," Josh informed her and she let out a bell of laughter, "And I think people like me prefer the term photographer."
"Who do you take photographs for?" Kyle asked, politely, when it became clear that Maya wasn't going to step up.
"I freelance, mostly, but I'm hoping to open my own gallery," Josh revealed, feeling uncomfortable under the scrutiny.
"He did the collection of, 'Faces of the Future,' that was just on display at NYU," Maya added and Josh looked at her in surprise.
"I'm afraid I'm only in New York for the weekend and I'm a Californian native," Kyle apologized, the smile on his face becoming tense.
"It got national coverage. They're pictures of children that do an incredible job of capturing the innocence and the potential that everyone starts out with," Maya explained.
"I think I did hear something about that," Kyle offered, although Josh could easily see through the lie.
"Why don't you go and grab us something to drink? Josh is an old family friend and I just want to talk to him for a minute," Maya suggested and Kyle nodded tightly before disappearing into the crowd of people.
"I didn't know that you were going to be here," Josh started, as Maya linked her arm with his and pulled him out the nearest door and into a quiet corner.
"I feel like I should be pointing out the same thing. This isn't exactly your crowd," Maya reminded him.
"I did the profile on Alexa Greenwich for Fairest a couple of months ago. I guess I must have left an impression on Alexa," Josh explained, leaning against the wall.
"You do have a way with models," Maya snorted, though her eyes wouldn't meet his.
"What's going on with the guy?"
"You know who Kyle is," Maya chastised him, "And we have an agreement to keep each other company whenever we happen to find ourselves in the same place."
"He's looking at you like he might think your agreement is a little more serious," Josh informed her, as she stepped out of her shoes and flexed her foot.
"How long has it been since we last saw each other?" Maya changed the subject.
"Your last wedding," Josh offered, thinking back to the last time that he'd watched her walk down the aisle. He thought that maybe it would get easier seeing her pledge her life to someone else the second time, but it hadn't been.
"We lasted a whole six months," Maya sighed, settling against the wall next to him, "Riley didn't like him."
"I don't think anyone liked him. He spent more time on his hair, then you do," Josh snorted, thinking of the life-size Ken-doll that had splattered the tabloids through their courtship and divorce.
"Yeah, well, the price we pay for beauty," Maya offered.
"I used a pseudonym for that art collection," Josh pointed out, as Maya slowly wrapped a strand of hair around one finger.
"I'd recognize your work anywhere," she replied, "And I know how much you prefer being in the shadows."
"I've missed you," Josh informed her, wishing that she would look up at him.
Her eyes trailed passed him to the doorway, where Kyle was standing holding two drinks.
"It was nice to see you Mathews. You grew up handsome," Maya reached over to squeeze his hand, before walking away from him without a backwards glance.
He's been in the air for an hour, when he realizes he left his suitcase and thousands of dollars in camera equipment in his hotel room. He'd dropped everything for Maya Hart, yet again, and he can't help thinking that she'd better be around to appreciate it.
He swirls the cubes of ice at the bottom of his plastic cup and looks at the woman sound asleep next to him. Her hairs in a messy, red bun and she's wearing sweats and a t-shirt. There's something beautiful about the mascara that's smudged around her eyes and the scar just under her chin. He can't remember the last time he'd taken a photograph of someone normal, someone who was willing to let him embrace and portray their flaws.
He spends most of his time editing them away; change the lighting, reduce the size of their waist, alter their skin tone. No one's ever perfect, enough.
It's why he'd taken the job in California. It was taking pictures of food along the west coast and besides offering the tantalizing escape that he'd been looking for, it was, also, a chance to photograph something real.
The third wedding is Maya's biggest. It's held on a vineyard in California and Josh can't help thinking that air itself is heavy with the smell of rotting grapes. He's not in the wedding party and he's not entirely sure why he even came, except for the hand addressed request from Maya personally, that he be there.
"She didn't think you'd come," Riley offered, swirling the crimson liquid in the glass that she's holding, as she joins him at the edge of the deck.
"I don't know why I'm here," Josh returned, his hands turning white against the railing that he's gripping like it's the only thing tethering him to earth, "But she knew that I would be. It's the game she plays. See how far she can push me before I'll walk away. She did the same thing with her last two husbands and both of them eventually did."
"Maybe, she wants you to stop her," Riley suggested, slipping out of her shoes, and settling into her natural height. She takes another sip of the liquid in her glass and he wonders if her lips are stained red from lipstick or from what she's been drinking.
"Where's Lucas?" Josh changed the subject. In his experience where Riley was, Lucas was always several steps away. Though, he can't see the Texan anywhere near them, tonight.
"Washington," Riley replied, "He pointed out that he's been to Maya's last two weddings and this one probably won't be any different."
"That's pessimistic," was all Josh could muster, as he took in the dead look that had settled into his niece's eyes.
"He's going through a phase," Riley informed him, finishing off the rest of her glass in a single gulp, "You ever feel like you're channeling so much of your own happiness into someone else, that there's nothing left for yourself, in the end?"
"Is that how you feel?" Josh asked, surprised by the revelation.
"I don't feel, anything," Riley replied, before slipping her feet back into her shoes and shrugging her shoulders. He watches the muscles in her face contort, until there's no sign of the deeply planted exhaustion that she'd shown him a minute before and all that's left is the girl that's always been there.
"Riles, you're supposed to be acting as my buffer," Maya announced and Josh watched as Riley forced a smile that looked, so real, it even reached her eyes. He might have believed he'd dreamed up their entire conversation, except for the way it takes her just a second too long to get her lips into the right position.
"Sorry, Josh and I were just catching up," Riley explained, setting her empty glass on a table behind her.
"Hi," Maya greeted him, all of her previous confidence and bravado fading away, until it's the Maya that he's always known.
"You look gorgeous," he offered and her lips twitched at his word choice.
"I'm glad you're here," she admitted, "It wouldn't feel real without the both of you."
He wants to point out that every one of her weddings have felt painfully real, but he knows that any outward expression of his feelings for her, will have her retreating back into her façade and he'll be left with nothing to hold onto.
"I'm going to go get a drink," Riley announces, leaving her glass, as she makes her way back into the rehearsal dinner that's happening inside.
"Why are we doing this, Maya? The last time we talked you told me that your relationship with Kyle was nothing and, now, you're marrying him?" Josh sighed, unable to keep his feelings to himself any longer.
"Riley's living in Washington, she's a senator's wife. When she talks, people care about what she says. They care about what she's wearing, too, but she's a complete person. I didn't finish college, Josh, I dropped out when I got pregnant with Savannah and I turned to modeling. I'm a frozen picture on a magazine cover; I'm my hair, who I'm wearing, who I'm seeing. And if people don't find me relevant, then I have nothing to fall back on. So, I'm marrying a movie star, who will love me until he doesn't, and then we'll both go our separate ways. I'm making sure that my name means something and hoping that, someday, Savannah will be a million times better than I ever have been."
"You're more than any of those superficial things. You could walk away from all of this and remake yourself and I know that you'd land on your feet. You don't need this," Josh assured her, reaching out to grab her hand.
"But I don't know how to live without it," Maya admitted, squeezing his hand before she pulled away, "I came from nothing and I won't go back."
He comes back to the present, with the jostling of the plane landing. He can hear the flight attendant talking over the intercom, though he can't process the words of what she's saying, and then he's filing his way out with the other passengers.
Maya's face is splattered on televisions all over the airport terminal and he forces himself not to stop and watch.
He turns on his phone, as he's leaving the terminal. Not entirely surprised to find that he has dozens of missed calls.
"Hey, Uncle Josh, it's Auggie. The crowd around the hospital has gotten bad and they're not letting anyone in or out, until the police can secure a perimeter. Meet me at the loft, Ava's giving us updates," Josh listened to the message, as he made his way into a cab and listed the address for where Auggie and Ava were currently living.
"Josh, it's Nicki. I know your emotions are probably running a bit high at the moment, but, when you're ready, I'd like to pull you in for an interview. I'm sure you'd like, at least, one press agency to be getting the story right," Josh deleted the message before it could continue, noting the time that the call had been made. The vultures had given him an entire hour to grieve before they'd descended, looking to capitalize on his pain.
He dialed the hotel where he'd been staying in California and waited as the phone rang, watching the buildings pass by outside of his window. He'd grown up in Philadelphia and, despite, going to school in New York had never really thought of the place as home.
If he was being honest with himself, he'd stayed because the one time he'd ever contemplated leaving, Lucas and Riley had bought a house in Texas and he'd known that without Riley, Maya would need someone to pull her out of trouble.
She's never had any regard for time, which is why Josh isn't surprised to have his phone start vibrating on the desk beside him, as he reduces the size of an actress's calves on the photo in front of him.
"Maya," he answers, not having to look at the number to know that it's her.
"I messed up, Josh," she sighed, her voice cracking, despite the strength that she's trying to portray, "You were right, you're always right."
"What's going on?" he asked, picture forgotten, and coat half-on.
"We've been fighting, about stupid things. I thought that he'd live in California and I'd live here, but he's been spending more and more time in the city and claiming that I'm cheating on him. He barely lets me out of his sight."
"What did he do, Maya?" Josh's voice went cold.
"We were fighting and he was so angry and he hit me," Maya's voice sounded shocked and a sob came over the line, "He left, but I don't know if he's coming back."
"I want you to get out of the house. Don't pack anything, just get out. I'll meet you at Topanga's," Josh suggested, already trying to find a middle place between their two locations. The fact that his sister-in-law's bakery would make Maya feel safe, was just an added benefit.
"I'll be there," Maya promised and he heard the sound of a door closing in the background.
"Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?" Josh questioned, wanting it more for himself, then for her.
He heard the sound of shuffling in the background and Maya's breathing, suddenly, became loud through the speaker, "I have to go, but I'll be there."
The call disconnected and Josh felt his heart stop beating in his chest. He grabbed his camera off the desk, and shoved it into his coat pocket, before heading straight for the door.
He wanted to go to Maya's apartment, but he knew that he had a limited amount of time where Maya would be in shock enough that he could persuade her to go the hospital. And, if he wasn't there when she got the bakery that window would close. So, he kept a brisk pace and hoped that he was making the right decision.
He lets himself in with a key and immediately starts turning on lights, checking his phone for the time every few seconds. He knows that it will take Maya, at least, fifteen minutes to get there, but he can't help worrying that he's made the wrong decision, anyway.
"Josh?" he spins around, relieved to see the blonde standing at the front door. Her head is bowed and she's wearing two different shoes, but it's the single most beautiful sight that he's ever seen.
He instantly crosses the distance and pulls her into his arms, her own, winding around his neck and her head burying itself in his shoulder.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, tears soaking through his t-shirt, as he holds her together.
"Why didn't you tell me this was going on?" Josh questioned, unwilling to let go of her.
"After everything that I've put you through?" Maya returned, pulling away, though she kept her chin angled down.
"Let me see," he whispered, his hand going to her chin and tilting it up.
She didn't fight him and he gasped as he took in the bruising around her eye and jaw.
"It looks worse than it feels," she assured him, wrapping her arms around herself and revealing fingerprints that lined her arms.
"What did he do to you?"
"He hit me once, grabbed me when I tried to get away from him and I fell and hit my head on the coffee table," Maya admitted, refusing to meet his gaze, "I think that I might have blacked out for a minute because he was gone when I woke up.
"And when you hung up on me?" he pressed, trying to hold in his own anger.
"He was in the lobby of the building, I turned around and went through a backdoor before he could see me," Maya explained, running a hand through her hair.
"We need to get you to a hospital," Josh insisted, struggling to get his thoughts into anything of a logical order.
"No, if I go to the hospital, they'll make me file a police report and it will be all over the news tomorrow morning," Maya protested.
"It should be, everyone should know who he is," Josh argued, having to turn away from her as he battled the turmoil that was churning inside of him.
"But they won't, Josh. They'll see what they want to see: A beloved actor, who's involved in more charities than I can name and who talks about how happy we are together in every interview that he gives. Some people might believe me, but others will think that I'm looking for attention or more money out of our divorce. I'm not going to put myself on trial, with a jury of people who understand only what we've shown them. It's better to solve this quickly and quietly."
"And just let him do it to the next girl that comes along?" Josh pointed out, wondering what had happened to the girl who used to fight for everything.
"I was wrong. I married him for all of the wrong reasons, I chased this life, which hasn't made me happy. I ignored you and pushed you away, when you're one of the only three people in this world who I have left. I can't remember the last time that I picked up a paintbrush and did the one thing that's ever made me feel alive. I'm ready to leave it, but if I'm going to fade out of the limelight, I need to do this my way," she insisted, her eyes finally meeting his, as they pleaded with him to understand.
He knew that she was offering him the one thing that he couldn't say no to and it made him feel physically sick that he was going to agree to it. That he would grasp onto any chance to get her out of this life, even if it came at the cost of doing what he knew to be right.
"I won't make you go to the hospital, but I need you to meet me halfway," Josh sighed, rubbing his forehead.
"What do you want?"
"You let me take pictures of your injuries, in case you change your mind later," Josh started, "And there's a nurse in my building who I'd like to have look at your head."
"Okay," she gave in and he could see the defeat and tiredness in her expression.
"You're going to have to take off your jacket," he said, as he pulled his camera out of his pocket.
She slowly shrugged the jacket from her shoulders and let it fall to the ground, revealing that the bruising was worse then what he'd seen it as. He has to bite down on his tongue to keep himself from reacting.
He adjusts the settings to make sure that he captures her injuries in a way that leaves nothing to guess-work and starts snapping photos of her arms. Slowly, making his way up to her face.
"We'll want to do this again in the morning, they'll look worse," Josh offered, making sure that the time stamp on the pictures is correct, before he shuts it off.
"How did we get here?" she asked, looking around the room, "Our lives were never supposed to be like this."
Josh managed to convince the hotel to send his belongings on to him throughout the remainder of the cab ride; Spending most of the conversation, explaining how delicate his equipment is and how it needs to be packed before they overnight it to his apartment.
It's the last thing that he cares about, at the moment, but it provides a good distraction.
"How was your flight?" Auggie questioned, as he pulled the front door open and Josh realizes that he can't remember if he paid the cab driver or not.
"Long," Josh replied, leaving his shoes at the door and following Auggie further inside, "What have you heard?"
"The maid service found her in a hotel this morning and couldn't wake her. There was alcohol and drugs everywhere, but she was still breathing when the ambulance arrived. They ran a toxicology screen to determine what was causing the overdose, but, even knowing, it doesn't look good," Auggie revealed, sinking down on the couch and gesturing for Josh to take a seat.
"So, what do they do next?" Josh questioned, struggling to keep his feelings from bubbling to the surface.
"Maya's an organ donor," Auggie revealed, putting his head in his hands, "They're in the process of running tests to determine if she's braindead. They can't use her kidneys or her liver, but her heart appears to still be intact."
"Of course," Josh laughed, knowing that it was entirely inappropriate, but unable to stop himself.
"She might still pull through this; she's still breathing, her hearts beating. She's Maya, Josh, she doesn't just give up and if anyone should get a miracle, it's Maya," Auggie pulled him back into reality.
"You need to stop doing this to yourself," Riley informed him, the minute he had pulled the front door open. The last time that he had checked, Riley was in Washington, which doesn't account for how she ended up here.
"Doing what?"
"You saved Maya from her miserable marriage and after everything was said and done, she went back to her modeling career, which wasn't what she promised you. Now, you're depressed and I heard from your neighbor that you haven't left your house in a week," Riley informed him, stepping under his arm and into his home.
"What are you doing here?" Josh questioned, watching as she immediately started grabbing takeout containers from his kitchen table and taking them into the kitchen to throw away.
"I've spent the last week camped out on Maya's couch and I can't spend another one," Riley revealed, leaning against his kitchen counter, as she spoke the words, "I figured that misery loves company."
"Maya told you that I was miserable?" he asked, trying to keep up with her.
"She didn't have to, I know what it's like to love someone who can't keep their promises," Riley offered, turning around.
"Did you leave Lucas?" Josh questioned, the shock of the idea, enough to pull him out of his own problems.
"No, I'm just, taking a break," she replied, turning her back to him, as she started scrubbing the sink with a washcloth that he'd left over the faucet.
"Riley," he stepped forward, his hands reaching out to comfort her.
"Don't, please," she whispered, pulling away from him, "If you touch me I'm going to breakdown and I don't want to breakdown right now, I just want to clean."
"Okay," he agreed, letting his hands drop to his sides.
"I know that you think that Maya's just going to fall back into all of the patterns that she's been through before, but something about this divorce has changed her," Riley informed him.
"It hasn't, Riles. She still can't give up all of the bright lights and the shiny distractions," he disagreed, sinking down onto the tiles at her feet.
"Maybe not all at once, but she's changing."
"How can you tell?" Josh asked, leaning his head against the cabinets behind him.
"Because she's painting again."
There are moments in life that you will forever remember. You'll know exactly where you were; what it smelled like, what you were wearing. Sometimes, they're world events and other times they're personal. This one just happened to be both.
He was sitting on the couch with Auggie when they receive the news. Auggie had popped in a DVD that neither of them were watching and night had fallen outside, although they'd pulled the curtains hours ago.
Riley's plane is supposed to be landing soon and all he can think about, is getting Riley and Savannah to Maya because if anyone can get her to wake up, to remind her what she should fight for, it's them. And no mob of press and paparazzi are ever going to stop Riley from seeing her best friend.
Auggie's phone starts ringing and they both look at it, hesitating a second, before Auggie picks it up and answers. He strains his ears to hear the other end of the call, but he can't her anything and Auggie's answers are too short to determine what's going on.
Finally, he ends the call, the phone falling from his hands and into his lap.
"What did they say?" Josh questioned, somehow, already knowing the answer.
"We need to get to the hospital. The police have agreed to escort us inside," Auggie explained, standing up and retrieving his phone.
"Why? What's changed?" Josh needed Auggie to say the words.
"They're pulling her into surgery in an hour and this is our last chance to say goodbye."
He's been trained to see the flaws in people; to look at them and pick them apart, until they're pieces of what they used to be. He's made his career on selling something that no one can ever measure up to, but will never stop trying to achieve, anyway. He lies to himself and says that if he weren't doing it, someone else would be, but that only pushes away the guilt for so long.
He watches Maya surveying herself in the mirror, a frown pulling at her face, as she sucks in her stomach and traces her index finger over the wrinkles that are starting to appear around her mouth and eyes. And, he can't help feeling like he's one of the monsters that convinced her to look at herself with criticism and judgement. How many other people that he loves are looking in their mirrors and doing the exact same thing?
Her eyes meet his through the reflection and she purses her lips, "I'm fighting a losing battle with time."
"You're gorgeous," Josh disagreed, his hands running over the lens on the camera that he had just secured.
"I never thought I was going to grow old," Maya admitted, dropping her hands and crossing the studio to where he was sitting, "I mean, everyone does, but I just never thought it applied to me."
"Maya, you're in your early thirties," Josh reminded her, noting the darkness that lingered in the back of her eyes.
He'd meant to make her feel better with the statement, but her frown, only becomes more pronounced, as her eyes drop to the floor. The silence stretches heavy between the two of them.
"How do you want me, Mathews?" Maya forced a smile, moving in front of the backdrop that he'd set up in the center of the room.
It's a loaded question. He's spent years chasing her, accepting every piece of her that she would let him have and forgiving her for every time that she pushes him, away. He'd thought they'd had a future together, once, when she'd agreed to leave this world, only to return to it as soon as the dust settled. But, it's moments like this when he realizes that she's entirely with him, her presence filling the entire room. And a second of having her with him, almost makes up for a lifetime of being without.
"Exactly the way you are," he admits and her smile goes from forced to genuine, as she looks at him with warmth and what he could almost trick himself into believing is love.
"Promise?" Maya asked, spinning under the lights, as he immortalizes the beauty of the moment in film.
"Cross my heart," he returned
He's been trained to pick out the flaws in every person that sits in front of his lens and he knows that Maya has them, but, the problem has always been, that he can never really see them in her. He's never been able to pick Maya apart because, to him, she's perfect.
Her heart beats a steady rhythm from the machine beside her, as he enters the room. Auggie had tried pleading with the doctors for more time, until Savannah and Riley got there, but it was a lost cause. Farkle had been the first to enter the room and talk to her, followed by her mother and Shawn, and, now, he was getting a moment, but he's not entirely sure what to say.
His hand reaches out to grab hers, his thumb slowly stroking the side of her hand, as he looks at her one more time.
A series of moments of them together run through his mind and he closes his eyes, as he remembers the way she feels in his arms, her lips pressed against his. He tries to remember her laugh and the look in her eyes whenever they would meet his across a crowded room.
"We'll always have Paris," he whispered, his voice cracking, as suppressed tears burned the back of his eyes.
He's not sure why the words rise to his mind, but her voice echoes in his head, clear and sweet, "I'm playing the long game."
I got an overwhelming response to the first chapter, so I've decided to continue. This is one of those stories that won't entirely make sense, until we've gotten to the end and everything has been revealed, so stick with me and feel free to ask questions(And make predictions, because I love seeing what people pick up on), although I'm going to try not to give anything away.
Thanks for reading and I would love it if you would review!
Next Time on Infamy: In an attempt to make sense of Maya's death, Riley goes on a search for the events leading up to it.